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Chapter Text

Daichi wasn’t sure what to make of it when Hajime was summoned down to the big house right after the family arrived. Sure, the Sugawaras liked to meet the new workers that showed up while they were in town, but they usually waited until they unpacked – and they never singled out one person from the group.

Daichi shaded his eyes with a hand and watched the dark figure skate down the slopes of the tea fields that cupped the big house, sweat dripping in his eyes. He wiped his brow with an old rag tucked into his sash, dirt in the creases of his face. The worker next to him snorted and asked, “Jealous?” Daichi balled up the rag and threw it at Asahi’s face, biting back a grin. Asahi stepped away so it fluttered into the black dirt. Daichi glared at him until Asahi sighed and bent down, careful of the leaf-full basket strapped to his back, and picked it up, handing it back while hiding any rolling eyes behind a hand. He squinted down at the kicked anthill of the big house. “Looks like they’ve got company.”

The workers in earshot looked up and closer at the chaos, sorting colors and insignias on display into ‘Sugawara’ and ‘Other’. Two rows downhill, someone groaned at the teal-and-white teardrop.

“Not those guys!” they moaned, falling on a tea bush in their distress. “I ain’t gonna go to the North Pole and you can’t make me!”

The taller, balder guy next to the complainer laughed and slapped the basket on his back, leaves rustling. “Aw, come on, Yuu, it’s fun! You, me, the open road-”

“Cold, gross, snowy mountains, angry army types, cold, no girls!” Yuu lifted himself from the bush so he could drape himself over his partner, loud sobs wracking his slight frame. “Ryuu, why?”

Ryuu shushed him, cradling his rat’s-nest hair to his chest. “It’ll be okay, man – maybe Kiyoko came down with them!” Yuu bounced back up, chattering in Ryuu’s face as Daichi and Asahi exchanged a glance and got back to work.

As the sun sank on another endless day, Daichi finished off his basket and trudged uphill to the overseer’s stand, a wooden chair lifted over the highest point on the hillside. He rapped his knuckles on a support. “Ready to bring it in, Dad?”

His father on the stand looked to the dropping sun and nodded. “You take the north, I’ll handle the south.” Daichi nodded and marched along the top of the hill to the northern half of the property, calling in the workers for the night, storing the day’s harvest in the barns to be processed the next day.

The sun had truly set by the time the harvest was packed against the approaching storm and Daichi could slide down the neat green rows to home, cheating a little by earthbending a sled until his momentum evened out at the foot of the hill. The big house was at the center of the half-valley cup, but home to him was set to the side at the edge of the line of trees that separated the Sugawaras’ property from their neighbors – a circle of old cabins where the permanent staff lived. Since his dad was the foreman, the two of them had a house to themselves at the center of the clump, but it was a rare night when they didn’t have visitors sitting on their porch for a nightcap and some conversation.

Tonight was no exception, although there was a new face among the weathered veterans of the tea fields and the house servants. The oldest son of the Sugawaras had his bare feet tucked under him where he sat on Daichi’s porch step, sipping sake out of the nice cup as he talked business with Daichi’s dad. Daichi smiled, a new warmth trickling down his sweaty spine.

He snuck up in Suga’s blind spot and plopped down hard on the planks next to him, making Suga jump and whip around. Suga beamed, that sunburst only he possessed, and set his sake on the wood behind him to hug Daichi around the neck.

“Stars, it’s good to see you!” he said to Daichi’s temple. Daichi chuckled and patted his back, trying to keep his stained and sweaty skin away from Suga’s nice clothes. Suga held him out at arm’s length, fingers gripping his bare upper arms. “I swear, every time I come back you’ve gotten broader.”

Daichi shrugged, holding Suga’s elbows in return. “It’s unavoidable.” They smiled at each other. “I’m glad you’re back, Suga.”

“Suga!” Yuu screamed from across the yard. Suga and Daichi dropped each other, sliding away as the kids their age, now almost grown, ran up to yell in Suga’s face about the happenings during the months of his absence while Daichi recovered from their close encounter. Suga laughed, overwhelmed; Daichi caught his father’s eye as he slipped back inside. His dad winked and mouthed, ‘I’ll leave you to it.’

Eventually, everyone stopped talking over each other and piled around Suga, not bothering with cups as they passed the sake bottle around the circle. “So, Suga,” Ryuu said, arms crossed on Yuu’s head and chin resting on his crossed wrists, “a little birdie told me you called the new guy up for a chat. What’s up with that?”

Suga sighed and scratched the back of his head. “It’s… complicated.” He shrugged. “But he’s Tooru’s problem, not mine.”

“Tooru? Like… Oikawa Tooru?” Ryuu and Yuu narrowed their eyes in unison, and Daichi had to cover his mouth with his hand to keep his amusement in check. “He’s here?”

Suga didn’t bother containing his own laughter, bubbling out of him like hot water. “Oh, calm down, he’s not that bad.”

Yuu huffed, crossing his arms and leaning back on Ryuu, propping his dirty feet in Suga’s lap. “Says you, you don’t care when he takes the only pretty girls in the whole damned backwater town in the middle of nowhere.” He moaned and knocked his head on Ryuu’s chest. “I don’t wanna go,” he moaned. Suga patted his ankle, face impassive even when dried mud flaked off onto his white linen tunic.

“You know Papa won’t send the shipment without an earthbender escort, despite the Oikawas,” Suga said in consolation. “And you’re the best one we’ve got.”

Yuu pulled a face that made Chikara chuckle from his perch on the porch railing. “What about the new guy? He’s an earthbender, right?”

Suga scratched the back of his neck under his ponytail, which was grayer each time they met. “Well, I could mention it to Papa, but I’ve got a feeling he won’t be under our employ much longer.” Daichi frowned, but Suga shrugged it off. “Besides, Papa trusts you, as strange as that may seem.”

The conversation turned to news from the Inner Rings as rain started to drizzle down in the yard. Daichi sat back to listen, his trailing fingers digging deep furrows in the packed earth two feet below his hands in the deep shade of the lantern light.

Daichi woke up just before the late spring dawn, taking his morning tea out on the porch for a few quiet minutes before another long day under the clearing sky. The yard smelled of damp earth and dew; he breathed it in, leaning on the porch railing and looking out over the rolling stripes of green that he knew like the grooves of his fingertips.

A heavy body swung down from the roof to sit on the banister by Daichi’s elbow, wood barely shaking with his weight. Daichi sipped his tea. “You’re going to break something like that one day,” he said to the newcomer, voice scratchy with sleep.

Hajime shrugged. “Probably.” He jerked his chin at Daichi’s cup. “You got any more of that?” Daichi poked a thumb over his shoulder at the pot and extra cups waiting on a barrel that served as the porch table. Hajime hopped to his feet and poured himself some before resuming his seat on the railing, joining Daichi in watching the sun rise over the hills. Hajime frowned down at his cup, steam in his face. “I keep expecting that if I work here long enough I’ll get tired of this.” He tested the temperature and sighed. “Nope.”

Daichi chuckled. “It helps to drink in moderation.” He drank. “What happened in the big house yesterday? Suga only said it was his friend’s problem.”

Hajime set his tea on his knee, frowning at his dangling toes. Daichi poured himself more tea while he waited. Even though he had only known Hajime for a few months, they were similar people. Daichi could give him time to think.

“I… knew Tooru, when I was in the city,” Hajime said at last. “I’ve left that life behind me now, but Tooru has a way of getting under your skin.” He knocked back his cooling tea. “I’ll be going with him now, so I guess this is my resignation notice.”

Daichi tilted his head at him. “So you’re taking Yuu’s spot after all?”

Hajime frowned. “What’s that mean?”

“Oh – whenever the Oikawas’ trade caravan comes around, the Sugawaras send a shipment with them. Two of us usually go with it, for the master’s peace of mind.” He traced the uneven patterns drawn into his handthrown cup. “For a few years now it’s been Ryuu and Yuu, since they’re the best fighters we’ve got.” He smiled at his hands. “And also to wear them out for a while.” He swirled the dredges. “But Yuu hates it. He’d probably cut off his own arm to get out of it, but Ryuu’s not a bender and Mr. Sugawara won’t send it without one.”

Hajime narrowed his eyes. “And you won’t go because…”

“They never ask.” The convex horizon was a bright orange. “I don’t think it’s ever occurred to anyone that I could leave the estate.”

Hajime tilted his chin up. “But it has to you.”

Daichi shrugged, shoulder hunched up against Hajime’s heavy stare. “I wouldn’t mind seeing more of the world beyond the farm over. But I’m needed here.”

Hajime snorted. “Not that badly.”

Daichi picked at a splinter in the banister. “I’ve also never used my earthbending to hurt anyone, or do anything but plant.”

“That’s something easily fixed.” Daichi glanced up in time to catch Hajime’s bitter smile. “I’m not taking Yuu’s spot,” he said. “I’m joining Tooru’s detail, because that idiot needs as much protection as he can get.” He drained his tea and hopped off the railing to put his cup on the barrel-table. “But you should remind them that you’re an earthbender, too.” He moved the hat hanging by a ribbon from his neck to the top of his head as he headed out. He paused on the porch steps, looking back at Daichi. “If you don’t, I’ll make Tooru ask for you.”

Daichi chuckled. “Blackmailing me into getting out more?”

Hajime grinned, the first time Daichi had seen his teeth with his smile. “Now you’re getting it.” He flicked a salute at him and jumped the last two steps down, wandering off towards the fields and the big house.

The rest of the estate was stirring now that the sun was over the hills. Daichi finished his tea, waving as people passed in the opposite direction of Hajime towards the bathhouse, then took the pot and cups back inside. His dad was eating last night’s rice for breakfast at their kitchen table, as old and worn as the house. He looked up at Daichi’s entry and smiled. Daichi chewed on his thoughts as he joined him at the table, taking the offered bowl and eating without feeling.

His dad reached over and poked his temple with the butt of his chopsticks. “What’s on your mind, daidai?”

Daichi shrugged, staring out their open shutters at the rectangle of field and sky, their own kind of wall art that looked different each day. But not different enough. “What if I offered to take Yuu’s place with the northern shipment?”

His dad was quiet for a while, humming as he ate his rice. Daichi picked at his own, gut churning. What a silly spur-of-the-moment question, he was needed here, and who’s to say he wouldn’t turn tail and run home the second they were out of sight? He should let Yuu go and stay here, where he knew what was expected-

His dad cleared his throat. “I’d say I’m gonna miss you.”

Daichi raised an eyebrow, swirling thoughts disintegrating like flour in dough. “That’s it? No ‘maybe next time’, no ‘not ever in your life’, nothing?”

His dad sighed, stretching back, lacing his thick fingers together behind his head in his loose hair. “Son, take it from someone who’s lived here forever,” he said with a lilting smile. “It’s high time you got out.”

“But- the harvest-”

“Will be brought in just fine without you,” his dad interrupted. He snorted with a grin lighting up his beard. “Actually, with Yuu sticking around, it might come in faster.” Daichi’s stomach twisted as he forced a smile. His dad’s eyes softened. “No one’s gonna replace you, son. But the farm will be here when you get back.” He cleaned his bowl and stood, clapping a big hand to Daichi’s shoulder. “As long as you come back at the end, it’s your life. Live it like you want.” Daichi smiled up at him and scarfed his breakfast down for another day’s work, but this time with the promise of adventure under his tongue.

Yuu was ecstatic when Daichi approached him about relieving him of his travelling duties, dragging him off in the middle of the day to corner the Sugawaras’ steward for the shift change. The harassed Mr. Takeda didn’t care beyond jotting it down on his everpresent notepad, but he was the exception to the norm. Their fellow staff varied in their shock – Daichi had never shown vision beyond the plantation, as much a fixture of it as his dad and the big house, and he bent so rarely and mundanely they had almost forgotten he was an earthbender at all. Ryuu accepted him with open arms, although that may have been so he could cry on his shoulder about Yuu abandoning him in his time of need.

As the sun set, Daichi skated down the hill of the fields to the big house. He skirted the fancy windows and clean swept porch to the side veranda, sunbaked orange tiles with mystery pawprints imprinted on them curving out from the kitchen doors. Daichi laid back on the border, looking up at the fluffy yellow clouds as the tiles warmed his back, and waited for Suga to find him.

It took a while, long enough for the sun to touch their neighbor’s land, but the door creaked open behind him at last. Sock-shoes padded across the patio to rest beside him, that second layer of warmth from the night before returning. Cloth shifted as his visitor knelt.

“Hey, Daichi.” Suga’s voice cracked on his low tone. Daichi’s head flopped to the side to smile up at him. Suga smiled back. “How’ve you been?”

Daichi shrugged and sat up, propping himself up with his hands. “Usual.” A pause. “Town treat you well?”

Suga hummed, drumming his fingers on his knees. “As well as always. It’s nice to come home, though.” He reached up to pull his ponytail tighter, brushing loose curls back from his face. “There’s no one quite like Yuu there.”

Daichi chuckled. “I’d hope not, for the sanity of Ba Sing Se. One Noya’s enough.” Suga laughed and knocked his shoulder into Daichi’s, always harder than expected.

Suga sighed and shifted his legs from folded under him to the side, leaning sideways so Daichi could just feel his body heat through their tunics, their supporting hands a breadth apart. “I’m gonna miss him while he’s gone north, though.”

“But he’s not going,” Daichi said. “I am.”

Suga whipped to him, hand flashing out to strangle his wrist. “What?” he hissed, eyes wide.

“Yuu wanted to back out, and I’m an earthbender, too.” Daichi stared him down as Suga’s fingers convulsed around his pulse.

“But… I just got here,” he said in a tiny voice. “You’re… you’re not supposed to leave!”

“Your dad already cleared it, and so did the Oikawa captain.” He looked away from Suga’s shining eyes. “We head out in three days.”

“No.” Suga shoved to his feet, pacing in a tight circle. “No, I’ll talk to Papa, he’ll-” Suga fell to his knees again at Daichi’s side and grabbed Daichi’s arm just above his elbow. “You’ve never left before! Why would you-” He shook Daichi’s arm. “It’s dangerous out there!”

Daichi chuckled, laying his hand over Suga’s on his bicep (it swamped it). “Careful, or people might think you care.”

Suga punched his stomach, mouth twisting as he fought a smile. “Shut up, you clobberhead.” Daichi grunted with the punch, folding in, temple brushing Suga’s silk shoulder. Suga latched his punching arm around Daichi’s head, vicious in his clinging affection. “Do you have to?” he whispered, breath ghosting down Daichi’s neck. Daichi patted the hand under his.

“You’ll be okay without me,” he murmured. Suga huffed.

“I’m not the one I’m worried about.” He let Daichi’s head go, hand sliding down Daichi’s neck, back, to fall in his own lap. Daichi scooted away to give them space, the back of his neck burning. “I don’t want you to go,” Suga admitted, head down.

Daichi chuckled and released Suga’s hand to lean away, away from Suga’s magnetic field. “I think Hajime would hogtie me and hide in me a cart if I didn’t go willingly.”

Suga frowned. “Hajime – you mean Iwaizumi?”

“Who?” Suga’s jaw worked. He jerked his thumb back at the house.

“Uh – Tooru’s guy, I never knew his first name.”

“Well, we never knew his last.” Daichi grinned. “He showed up a few months ago with some migrants and just never left.”

Suga laughed, shaking his head so more curls came out of his topknot. “Together we make a full name, then.” Daichi laughed along, the easy humor Daichi forgot he had in him whenever Suga wasn’t around.

He flopped back on the tiles, arms flinging out to catch the last rays of sun. “I am gonna miss you,” Daichi admitted to the clouds. Suga hummed, falling back beside him, head on Daichi’s arm. He bit his lip and didn’t move. “I’m sorry to leave right when you got here.”

Suga reached up and flipped his ponytail out to splay on the tiles, resting his bared neck on the tender skin of the inside of Daichi’s forearm. “Let’s make the most of these last days, then, yeah?”

Daichi’s dad cut him loose for his last three days at home. He spent the mornings in the stifling heat of the processing barns, but after lunch, Daichi would slip away, to pack, to complete odd chores he had never had the time to do before, and to drag Suga out of the house on walks around the estate.

Unlike some of their neighbors, the Sugawaras were hands-on proprietors, not just interested in the success of their crop but in how it was worked and the well-being of the people in their fields. Suga himself had always been inquisitive to a fault, back to when they were small and he snuck out of the big house to catch fireflies with the kids his age, getting dirt all over his white lawn pajamas. As they grew and the other children started to work with their parents, Suga was careful to stay close and involved for the future day when he would take ownership from his own. Suga waved to every other person they passed on their circuit, pausing to ask about their family or their bad knee or their pet sparrowkeet. Daichi kept him from embarrassing himself or getting his feet wet, talking about the weather and how to tell good dirt from bad while avoiding any discussion of his impending departure. They would end the day parting ways by the orange kitchen patio, Suga to join his family for dinner, Daichi to retreat to the comfort of the staff cabins until Suga could break away from country society to sneak down and catch fireflies.

The last evening before Daichi and the caravan set off for the North Pole, a new face joined Suga on his after-dinner venture to the staff cabins. He was in a stablehand’s uniform without additional embellishments, but even so, he stood out, a few inches taller than even Asahi, hair unusually cut, smile gold. The girls in the yard turned to watch him go, tittering behind their hands, but Tooru was oblivious. He listened to Suga, head bowed, as Suga led him to the Sawamura porch, hands talking with him. Ryuu and Yuu growled from beside Daichi. He smacked their heads to make them shut up and got offended looks for his troubles.

Daichi stood as they neared, smiling to himself at how senseless they were to the way the bystanders parted to their passage – or how accustomed. He crossed his arms; the movement drew Suga’s eye, and he lit up like he hadn’t been spending every waking moment of the last few days with him. “Daichi!” He waved at the porch crowd. “And everyone else!”

“You heard that, Ryuu? We’re ‘everyone else’ now!” Yuu laughed as Suga scowled before striding over to cuff Yuu’s ear. “Hey!”

“Want me to call you ‘you idiots’, then? It’s more accurate.” Daichi laughed as they bickered.

Tooru paused next to him, hands on his hips, waiting until Daichi glanced over to smile. “So you’re the farmhand Koushi talks about so much, huh?” Suga spun at his name, pale cheeks dusted pink in the lantern light, but Tooru ignored him and held out his hand to Daichi. “You’re bigger than the last time we met,” he said as they shook. His hand was lily-soft against Daichi’s callouses. Daichi grinned up at him.

“And you’re taller,” Daichi shot back, trying to connect this self-possessed man with the knobby kid Suga had brought to visit when they were young. Tooru grinned, eyes squinting shut, and there he was.

“Glad to know you’re not boring,” Tooru said with a laugh, bending down to pick up a loose stone at his feet and heft it in his hand. “When Koushi said Nishinoya over there was being replaced, I was worried I’d have no distractions on this trip.”

“Well, Ryuu’s still coming, so you won’t be totally without entertainment.” Tooru grinned again, then stuck his tongue out through his teeth and sidearmed the rock into the darkness over the Sawamura’s roof like he was skipping it across a pond. Daichi turned to look, confused, and just heard a grunt where it struck.

“Get down from there, Iwa-chan, you’re giving me a headache,” Tooru called, fists on his hips. Silence from the rooftop, then Hajime dropped down from the eaves, meadow vole-quiet. Ryuu and Yuu jumped into each other’s arms at his appearance, but Hajime paid them no heed, glaring fire at Tooru.

“Asshole,” he growled, opening his closed fist to release the ground dust of Tooru’s stone.

Tooru stuck his tongue out at him, winking at Daichi. “You’ll have to watch this one,” he said with a hair flip as Hajime stomped over. “For an earthbender, he really likes high places.”

Hajime grabbed the front of Tooru’s tunic and yanked him down to snarl in his face. “If I hadn’t just sworn to protect you I’d kill you right now.”

Tooru smiled and patted the top of Hajime’s head, extracting Hajime’s fingers from his clothes. “Ah, but you did, so I guess you’re stuck.” Hajime tossed him aside and marched to a shadowed corner of the porch to claim as his own. Tooru beamed at his audience. “Isn’t he just the sweetest?” A tiny rock flew over to peg Tooru in the forehead. “Ow!” He pouted at Hajime as the porch laughed at him.

Ryuu set a clinging Yuu aside to lean forward on his spread knees. “So, jerk, is your old man leading the processional this time, or is it your sister again? Who’s got your leash?”

Tooru smiled, eyelids lowered, the kind of face that could talk you into jumping off a cliff to see if you could fly. “Papa’s trying a new route to the South Pole, and my sister’s third kid is due any day now,” he explained, “so I convinced them to let me go alone. Well, alone of us.”

“Ryuu.” Yuu grabbed Ryuu’s face and yanked it so he could stare into his eyes, a breath apart. “I love you, man, but I am so glad not to be on this trip.” Ryuu shoved him away, cursing him for leaving him to his Oikawa-ridden fate, skin flush-blotchy. Tooru glanced at Daichi and rolled his eyes before joining Hajime in his corner, perching on the edge of the porch as they talked in low voices.

Daichi went back to his spot on the steps. Suga had taken a seat a level up, feet where Daichi was supposed to be. Suga grinned when Daichi frowned at them, and tucked them aside just to prop them in Daichi’s lap when he sat down. Daichi huffed, but laid his hand on Suga’s ankle, tracing the ball of his joint idly as Suga kept up his conversation with Chikara about big house gossip, twisting his fingers in the short hairs at the back of Daichi’s neck. Daichi closed his eyes and tried to pull this last porch night into his chest to hold for the next three months.

The caravan left just after dawn. Daichi said a quiet goodbye to his dad in their kitchen, then slung his bag over his shoulder and fell into step beside a bleary Ryuu along the beaten path from the staff quarters to the big house. The reassembled caravan waited in the teardrop parkway curved in front of the wide marble steps and ornate buttresses of the big house, guards and attendants swarming around it like smoke-drowsy butterfly-bees. Most of the dozen carts and wagons were driven by the Oikawa employ, the reason why their fellow merchants hired them for the long haul across the world to the distant Water Tribes. The Sugawaras were allowed to be difficult because of the families’ close relationship – Suga had once told Daichi that when their mothers were pregnant together, they had fantasized about their future children’s marriage.

Those dreams had been left in the cradle, of course, but when Daichi looked for the designated Oikawa family member for this excursion, he found Suga standing by him and his buffalo-yak, dressing gown held tight around his chest, hair only barely held up with an old ribbon. Daichi tossed his bag in their cart and left Ryuu to bully the servants packing the shipment against rain and wear to join them at the head of the train, avoiding lightly-armored guards and drivers on the way.

"I've never seen you up this early,” he commented as he got close enough to be heard. Suga turned from Tooru at his voice. “Come to sigh after our dust?”

Suga smiled at him, weak and sleepy, answer interrupted by a yawn. Tooru winked over his head. “If I couldn’t sleep in, then neither could he.”

Suga snarled through his yawn. “Bastard, you’re a morning person anyway, that’s not fair.” He rubbed at his face. “’Sides, Mama sure wasn’t gonna come out and hold your stirrup at this hour.” He tried to shake the sleep from his head but only succeeded in shaking his hair down, ribbon wafting away. “Oh, blast it.”

Daichi caught the ribbon before it could hit the dust and stepped behind Suga. He pulled his fingers a few times through Suga’s thick waves, the last few inches still the soft brown of his childhood, to get the worst of the tangles out. “Ryuu should have everything in order on our end soon,” he reported as he wove a fishtail braid into Suga’s hair, fingers quick from years of doing his dad’s in the mornings. Suga held still, shoulders tense. “Why do you have so much hair?” he asked, chuckling as he got close enough to the end to tie it off with the ribbon.

“He doesn’t want to lose the last sign of his youth,” Tooru said, singsong, petting the wet nose of his buffalo-yak. Suga slapped his arm.

“At least I don’t cause a ruckus every time I walk into a room,” he snapped, hopping on his toes to ruffle Tooru’s hair, too short to tie back. Tooru made a face as a guard walked up – father-aged, the gold borders around the teardrop insignias on his armor indicating him as the captain of the guards.

“We’re ready to move out when you are, sir,” he told Tooru, whose face turned to a pout.

“Stop calling me sir, Mr. Nobu, it’s weird.” Tooru flicked a hard between the captain and Daichi. “Oh, this is the guy taking Nishinoya’s place.”

The captain’s eyes narrowed as he bowed to Daichi, laugh lines tucked away in his face. Daichi hurried to respond in kind. “We met earlier,” the captain said, voice a rumble. “We’ll have plenty of time to chit-chat on the road.” He glared at Tooru on the last few words. Tooru sighed, shoulders dropping with his exaggerated eyeroll.

“Fine. Let’s go, let’s go.” The captain nodded, turning and barking orders at his guards as he strode away. Tooru slung the arm not holding his reins around Suga’s neck, face pressed to his hair. He murmured something Daichi couldn’t hear; Suga shoved him away, face burning. Tooru laughed as he swung up in his saddle, making it look easy, clicking his tongue at his mount as he rode to give the caravan a last glance.

Suga turned to Daichi, still hovering – he knew he should go back to the cart now, should’ve gone when the captain gave the go-forward. Suga threw his arms around his neck, burying his face there. Daichi’s hands flew up, unsure – three to six months. He squeezed Suga back, hard enough to crack, breathing in his black tea and ginger, sharp this close to his bed.

“Get back soon, okay?” Suga ordered his shoulder. Daichi nodded, letting him go and stepping back, hands slipping away.

“Don’t miss me too much.” Suga nodded, twining his braid around his wrist. Daichi bit his lip and spun on his heel, marching to the cart where Ryuu had some poor kid by the collar, teeth bared. He sighed – it was going to be a long trip.

They drove out as the sun crested the hilltop behind the house. Daichi looked back once to see Suga watching from the porch steps, swishing the end of his braid against his palm. He didn’t look back again.

Chapter Text

They passed Daichi’s farthest point before the villagers put out the chicken-pigs. Ryuu was still a half-asleep grump, so Daichi took the reins and watched as increasingly unfamiliar hills rolled by. The caravan clattered through the countryside in an incomplete silence, punctuated by laughter at a faraway joke or a song that Daichi only heard half the words of. A few of the armored guards dropped greetings to Ryuu as they rode up and down the column, but proper introductions would have to wait until a full halt. For now, Daichi enjoyed the view, the rumbling of the cart underneath him shaking the hours by.

They got to the first inn of the trip before sundown, a sprawling butterfly-bee nest in an otherwise desolate bend in the road. It was larger than the Sugawara manor and more active than the big house had ever been in Daichi’s memory – and this was normal. Ryuu’s bark at a stablehand jerked Daichi out of his gawking. He jumped from the cart seat, sore in entirely new places, and dragged Ryuu off the poor guy so he could do his job. Most of the teal-and-white clan followed suit, unloading their personals as the caravan was disassembled for the night and the animals put away. Daichi helped lead his ostrich-horses away, nerves singing as the stablehands made small talk about the road conditions and the supper menu. He smiled back and answered what he could, but only relaxed when they pointed him in the direction of the curry brushes. Peng and Yu, the two mares, still smelled like the Sugawara barn; he buried his face in Peng’s feathers and breathed deep.

“Long day?” Daichi turned to find Tooru (was he Oikawa now that he was the only representative of his family?), hay in his hair and sleeves pushed up, leaning over the stall door and brush dangling from his fingers. He smiled at Daichi. Daichi tried to smile back.

“It’s a bit much, I guess.”

Tooru chuckled. “You’ll get used to it before you know it.” He winked. “Don’t worry, I promised Koushi I’d keep an eye on you.”

Daichi grinned. “Funny, he made me promise the same thing.”

Tooru laughed, shaking his hair back so some of the hay fluttered out. “Guess he doesn’t trust either of us alone, huh?” He slapped the wood with the brush and hopped down – he must have been standing on one of the cross-braces on the door. “Hurry and finish up, you’ll feel better once you eat.” Daichi flapped a hand in response. Peng shoved her muzzle against his back hard enough to shift his balance forward. Tooru laughed at his yelp from the other side before the flipped-up ends of his hair bounced off, yelling at the inn stablehands to get away from his buffalo-yak’s stall, she bites. Daichi rolled his eyes and turned back to Peng.

The inn’s dining room took up half of its ground floor, enormous, stifling, and packed to the brim. The entire Sugawara staff could fit in here with room to spare. Daichi inched through the crowd to the first table of Oikawa teal he found and squeezed on the end of a bench. The guard next to his perch gave him a wave and a smile.

“Hi! You’re the new Sugawara guy, right?” he yelled over the din of the crowd. Daichi nodded back. “Taking Noya’s place?” Another nod. The guard (young and soft, for a guard) clapped his shoulder. “Don’t worry, we won’t hold it against you.”

Daichi chuckled. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did.” He reached across the table for the water pitcher and a cup from the stack, but the guard beat him to it, pulling out a glob of water from the pitcher to a waiting cup with a simple wrist flick. Daichi gaped; the guard laughed. Daichi slammed his mouth shut and gulped his bent water, face burning.

“Shigeru! Stop hazing the new guy!” Another guard, curly black hair escaping from a topknot, grinned from across the table. “That’s my job.”

“I’m not hazing anyone!” Shigeru snapped back, half-ponytail swinging with his flash of anger. “He’s just never seen a waterbender before!”

A different guard (there were too many of these guys) with sandy hair smiled, a sick curl that made Daichi sit straighter. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

“Hey, knock it off!” the little bald one down the way called, throwing a piece of bread at the smirker. “We want him to like us!”

The other three started squabbling while Daichi watched from behind his cup and Shigeru bent him a bowl of soup from the tureen in the middle of the table and passed the bread plate. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to them before we’re stuck in the mountains together,” he said with an easy smile. Daichi had never seen real blue eyes before. “You’ll miss all the other company then.”

Daichi half-smiled, dipping his bread in his pea soup. “We’ll see about that.” He glanced around the room as he chewed. Someone had shoved aside a few of the mismatched tables to make a dance floor, a trio of musicians propped up in a corner nearby. It was mostly locals dancing, but their homespun fabrics mixed with traveller’s dust until the only one Daichi could tell apart was Tooru. He had found the prettiest girl in the room and was twirling her around like a professional, glowing in his forest green and white and rich smile. “This is almost another world,” he muttered.

“You’ll see a bunch of worlds by the time we get home,” Shigeru said, jerking Daichi back to his tablemates. Shigeru grinned around his spoon. “It’s a big earth, after all.”

Shigeru and Daichi made easy, light conversation for a while. Tooru was right – food did make him feel better. He was almost out of his shell when Ryuu snuck up behind him and slung an arm around his neck, glaring over his head at the table.

“Hope y’all ain’t bein’ unkind to my bossman here,” he growled as Daichi rolled his eyes. “Or we gonna have words at morning drill.”

The two big earthbenders (Daichi would worry about names later) made faces at Ryuu. “Put a rock in it, tough guy, we haven’t hurt him yet,” Curly-hair said. He raised an eyebrow at Daichi. “”Don’t you have a leash for him?”

“He just chews through it.” Sandy-hair choked on his water. The little bald earthbender clapped him on the back until he stopped coughing. Ryuu rubbed a fist into Daichi’s scalp.

“Wise guy.” He let Daichi go and came around to the side of the table, perching on the edge by Daichi’s elbow. “I was just comin’ over to say that I’m heading up to the room, since this’ll be one of our last actual beds for a while. Wanna go?”

“Oh – yeah, that sounds good.” He finished off his water and waved at the table. “Nice meeting everyone.”

Shigeru flapped a hand. “Don’t worry, you’ll regret that in a month.” The other guards laughed as Daichi slipped away, clinging to Ryuu’s tunic just a little as he shoved through the crowd, dodging drunks and dancers and diners. Daichi’s eyes caught on more Oikawa teal; Tooru was sitting down now, girl gone, wedged between a stranger and Hajime as they ate and talked, heads bowed low. Daichi looked away and followed Ryuu up the back staircase.

The next morning, Ryuu kicked Daichi awake for his first morning drill, conducted in a back courtyard and led by the captain.

“I’m going to assume you know nothing and work up from there,” the captain told Daichi as the other guards – earth, water, and nonbender alike – gathered like fallen leaves in an eddy. “It’s easier that way.”

“Yessir.” The captain’s mouth twitched. He snapped and gestured at one of the milling guards – Curly-hair from last night – to come over. “Just try to keep up for the first few days,” he said, “and ask Matsukawa if you have any questions.” Matsukawa bowed at Daichi, a lilt to his brow. Daichi jerked a bow back. “I expect everyone to pull their own weight when we get to the mountains. This is just the calm before the storm.” Another bow that Daichi was a beat late to return, and the captain marched off to startle a younger guard – a waterbender, by his skin and hair – out of his standing snooze. Matsukawa’s eyes narrowed, smile tugging.

“You ever hit anyone before, bossman?”

Great. He would never be free of that name now. He frowned, nose wrinkling. “Only Ryuu and Yuu when they were being idiots.”

Matsukawa grinned, teeth glinting in the weak dawn light. “We’re going to change that.”

Over the next few days of sore muscles, too many people, ostrich-horse sweat, patchwork farmland, and too many people, Daichi picked up on a few things – like names. He still spent most of their shared mealtimes in observational silence, watching how the pieces clinked together, but he wasn’t cast out for it. Hajime or Tooru joined him most of the time, but Hajime was quiet to begin with, and Tooru could make idle prattle with furniture, so they didn’t make Daichi talk much. Ryuu made sure he wasn’t lost in the shuffle, always saving a seat or a bed for him in the arrangements. He would have to talk to his dad about a raise when they got back.

Morning drills were almost as strange as the wheat fields and tiered rice paddies. Daichi had no problem waking up before dawn, but combat training was a whole other animal from a quiet breakfast with his dad. When they made him spar on the third day, Matsukawa (or Issei, as he insisted Daichi call him) dumped him on his ass in fifteen seconds flat. They had a good laugh, then Issei helped him to his feet and walked him through exactly how he did that.

Drill used muscles Daichi didn’t even know he had. Two days after his first drill, every part of him ached, pain stabbing with every jerk of the bumpy cart ride. This was ridiculous – and they hadn’t even done any earthbending yet, for the sake of preserving their practice grounds. His knuckles kept splitting back open when he adjusted his hold on the reins or passed around the waterskin at the noon break – like they just did. He cursed and sucked at the blood.

“Are you bleeding?” He looked up at the voice to find Shigeru, head cocked and blue eyes really blue in the sunlight. Daichi held up his hands for display, and Shigeru winced, perching on the edge of the rock Daichi was sitting on. “I guess you’ve never had to make callouses on the backs of your hands, huh?” He gestured for Daichi to give him a hand; Daichi acquiesced, holding his right hand out, blood trickling down a knuckle. Shigeru wiped it away as he pulled a twist of water from the skin tied around his waist, glowing as he wrapped it around his hand. “I won’t totally fix it, since you need to build it up,” he said as he waved his water-glove over Daichi’s split skin, “but we can at least stop the bleeding so it doesn’t stain your clothes.”

Daichi shivered – that water was cold. “You can do that?”

“Sure.” He finished sealing the cuts and took Daichi’s other hand from his lap. “Men don’t usually learn this at home, but my mom is one of the Northern Water Tribe’s chief healers, so I just picked it up as I grew.” He flipped his hangs from his eyes with a grin. “Most of the Seijoh boys have been my patients some time or another.”

Daichi frowned. “Seijoh?”

Shigeru blinked, then laughed. “Oh – it’s our barracks name back in Ba Sing Se, when we’re not on a detail. It tends to stick when we’re on the road.” He tucked the water away and sat back. “There.”

Daichi flexed his hands – he had thin pink scars striped across his knuckles where his open wounds had been. “Thanks.”

“Better than you getting them infected before we get out of the wall.” Shigeru stood and stretched, fingers laced over his head. “It’d be nice to get home and back without having to do an amputation.” Daichi jerked at that, but Shigeru shook the topic off like a chill. He glanced around the loose circle the caravan had formed in a pasture by the road, then leant in to whisper, “Can I ask you something?”

Daichi raised an eyebrow. “Sure?”

He pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “What’s up with the new guy?”

Daichi followed Shigeru’s gesture – Hajime had his back turned, hands on his hips as he scolded Tooru to get down from his unsteady perch on the split log fence barring the road from the cornfield beyond before he hurt himself. “Who, Hajime?” Shigeru nodded. “What about him?”

“What’s his game? I’ve never seen Oikawa latch on to someone like this.” His hands gestured vaguely, face screwing up as he hunted down words. “It’s… weird.” Daichi chuckled, rubbing his jaw. Shigeru let out a distressed whine. “Look, we’ve all known Oikawa for years, and then this guy walks up like the Avatar himself and sticks to his side like a pricker-burr!” He huffed and crossed his arms. “I don’t like it.”

Daichi massaged the tendon at his neck. “Well, Hajime’s a hard nut to crack,” he admitted, “but I don’t think you’ve got much to worry about.”

Shigeru frowned and hummed, toe tapping in the scrappy grass. Behind him, Hajime grabbed Tooru by his calves and slung him over his shoulder. Tooru squawked; the people paying attention burst into laughter, drawing the eyes of everyone else. Tooru beat at Hajime’s back, but he ignored the pounding and walked him over to Issei and the other big earthbender guard, Takahiro, who were helpless with laughter. “Special delivery,” he said as he dropped Tooru in their laps, fighting a smile. Tooru flailed to right himself and fight Hajime, but the other two held him down, tears leaking, shoulders shaking. Daichi wiped at his own face – his stomach hurt. Shigeru crossed his arms, head to the side, contemplating.

It took five days on the road to get from the Sugawara plantation to the Outer Wall gate. Whenever they weren’t moving, eating, or sleeping, they were drilling, preparation for whatever the distant mountains would throw at them. Daichi didn’t just learn how to throw a punch, but also how to change a wagon wheel, string a bow, and sing in three-part harmony. The Seijoh gang latched onto him and Ryuu – well, more like Ryuu slid into their fold like another sheep-goat, his sandpaper temper laughed off by the easygoing older guards. Daichi still felt more goat than sheep, but each day got easier.

They saw the wall a good half-day before they got to it, a tan runner on the eggshell horizon. Daichi’s eye kept catching on it as he listened to Ryuu and Shinji, who had joined them on the cart to give his ostrich-horse a break, yell about desserts. As they got closer and the wall grew from a thin stripe to a sunblock, the caravan settled down, attention snatched.

“We see this all the time,” Shinji said in the silence, “but you never really get used to it.” Daichi could only nod.

They halted earlier than normal, bunking down in one of the many giant inns littering the town that hugged the gate. The rest of the day would be wasted on the wall guards’ inspection of the caravan goods before they passed through the gate in the morning. Ryuu and Daichi stuck around long enough to make sure their shipment wasn’t completely pulled apart, then left the rest for Tooru and his employ to oversee. Ryuu led the way into the town, which was more of a sprawling marketplace than anything else. Daichi’s senses couldn’t get enough, the colors, the scents, the haggling, the people – the varieties of people. Ryuu kept him in check until they ducked under the eaves of a food stall selling something that smelled like cinnamon and looked nothing like any food Daichi had ever seen before. Ryuu bought some and gave a stick of it to Daichi, gobbling down his own. It crunched, which Daichi didn’t expect, a sugar explosion on his tongue.

“So, bossman.” Daichi tilted his head at Ryuu. “How you like this so far?”

Daichi shrugged. “It’s a little sweet for me, but it’s not bad.”

Ryuu made a face, then laughed. “No, I mean the trip!”

“Oh. Oh!” Daichi shrugged again, licking the sugar from his fingers. “It’s fun. It hurts. I’ve got dust everywhere.” Ryuu laughed again, a guffaw that sprayed bits of pastry on the dirt. Daichi smiled. “I’m glad I came.”

“Good.” Ryuu wiped his mouth on his shoulder. “’Cause once we get outside that wall, it gets a lot harder to turn tail and get home.” He dusted his hands off on his pants. “And there’s some things you gotta get and some things you gotta know before we get out in the open. Shoes, for one.”

Daichi looked down at his calloused, dirty feet. “I’ve never worn shoes in my life.”

Ryuu laughed, head thrown back. “Yeah, but you’ve never been where it freezes, either!” Daichi jerked, but Ryuu missed it. “A’ight, we’ll get you some decent shoes and a jacket, then we’ll sit down and talk about the war.”

Daichi blinked. “War?”

Daichi’s head was still spinning from Ryuu’s debriefing as he harnessed Peng and Yu the next morning. Sure, he knew there was some conflict going on outside the wall, something with the firebenders, but he never cared much for news that didn’t affect the harvest. To think it had been going on for generations, world-encompassing, that they might encounter more than wild animals and bandits in the wilds but honest troops, was way too much to take in over dinner in another crowded inn. He had stumbled through morning drill, muscles screaming almost as loud as his head, then took Ryuu’s usual morning spot in the stables to clear his head. The ostrich-horses didn’t smell like the Sugawaras anymore, but their feathers between his fingers still anchored him and calmed his heart down.

“And what do you think you’re doing?”

Daichi poked his head out of the slid-open stall door, raising an eyebrow at Shigeru’s tone. He wasn’t talking to him, though, but standing in front of a stall a few down, hands on his hips and glaring inside. Curved horns arched just above the wall – it was Tooru’s buffalo-yak’s stall, but that wasn’t how Shigeru talked to his boss. Daichi couldn’t hear the response from inside, but he could see Shigeru’s foot tapping. “Well, you can do nothing away from my master’s buffalo-yak.” He pointed at the stable door. “Get, before I call the innkeeper.” Daichi pressed a hand to his mouth to hold in a laugh, but the person that slithered out of the stall wasn’t the littlest stableboy he expected, but a rough, scarred man with wiry curls and a wicked eyepatch. He snarled at Shigeru, but Shigeru didn’t flinch, still glaring at him like a misbehaving puppy. “If I catch you around here again I’ll do worse than scold you,” he snapped. “You’re lucky to be getting out of there with all your fingers as it is.”

Huh… Daichi frowned. He was right. The deceivingly-named Happy had a temper quicker than Ryuu’s and teeth to match, disagreeable with human and animal alike. Tooru didn’t just groom her because he loved her, but because he was the only human she could stand to be around long enough. How long had this guy been in there? But the scarred-up skulker just hunched his shoulders and left the stable, Shigeru watching him out the whole way. Daichi hummed, but went back to Yu’s harnessing without comment.

The caravan joined the line of travelers waiting to pass through the gates at daybreak. Now that Daichi was looking for it, he could see the weapons poking out of the tinker carts and the fancy merchants wrapped in security. Like the Oikawas. The wall guards were stationed at the mouth of the tunnel through the wall, a last overview even after the thorough inspection that all who wished to cross received. Daichi watched them as the progress inched forward – their faces and hair were mostly obscured by the helmets of the Earth Kingdom military, but he would swear the one on the right didn’t have any eyebrows.

Daichi looked up at the wall as they crawled closer. This exit was on the west side of Ba Sing Se, so the morning sun hit Daichi’s back and the stone of the wall, glowing gold in the light. The market town had encroached on the wall as much as the ground, houses sprouting along the granite like ivy, ladders and stairs connecting ramshackle structures. People buzzed along them, the cacophonic hum of the start of a busy day. Daichi watched a father say goodbye to his family with a smile. The little girl cried as she hugged his legs, the mother laughing behind her hand – huh?

He yanked his attention down to earth as the commotion ahead took a different tone. The head of the Oikawa line had just reached the mouth of the tunnel, but there was yelling and one of the guards had dismounted and something wasn’t right. Daichi and Ryuu exchanged a glance. “What you think that is?” Ryuu asked.

“No idea.” Daichi handed over the reins and stood on the bench, shading his eyes as he peered closer. He found the dismounted guard’s tasseled helmet at Tooru’s mounted knee, holding someone’s arm with an iron grip as he, Tooru, the captain, and – Shigeru? What was he doing on his feet? The man in the guard’s grip squirmed – Daichi saw a flash of a tan leather eyepatch under close-cropped black curls. He snarled something as Shigeru ranted at Tooru, the captain observing. Tooru’s back was to Daichi, but he could see the hard lines of the captain’s frown.

“What’s the holdup?” Ryuu asked at Daichi’s feet, echoing the grumblings of the people stuck behind them.

“There’s some guy up there that’s not with us. I saw him in the stables this morning.” Tooru’s Happy turned to nudge the stranger’s face with her muzzle. Even from here he could see Shigeru’s jaw drop. “Happy likes him.”

“What?” Ryuu slung the reins around a knot in the wood and joined him. “Happy doesn’t like anyone!”

True, but there Happy was, being scratched under the chin by the stranger with his free hand to varying levels of shock from the educated onlookers. The stranger’s face eased, not quite a smile; Daichi watched Tooru stare, face impassive but eyes alight, as he worked his fingers under her halter to scratch her cheeks. Tooru turned his blinding grin on the wall guard and his captain. They talked for a moment, Shigeru blowing up like a puffer while the stranger pet Happy like she was an excitable sheepdog instead of a furry angerball with horns.

“Well slap me sideways and call me a dragon,” Ryuu marveled, dropping back down to the bench. “Seems we got ourselves another new guy.”

Daichi squinted down at him. “How can you tell?”

“I read lips.” He winked up at Daichi. “You and Suga can really sap it up, bossman.”

Daichi’s nostrils flared, but he dropped it in favor of asking, “And how did you learn that?”

“You never know what you’ll learn, travelling with this crowd.” He stretched out, propping his feet on the lip of the cart. “I can teach you if you want, too. Something to do.”

Daichi lowered himself back down to sit. “Really?”

“Sure.” Ryuu raised a thin eyebrow at him. “Look, I know you’re used to taking care of us, but out here you don’t know a hammer from a hangnail.” Daichi snorted, and Ryuu grinned. “So I guess I get to be the bossman for a while.”

“I am not calling you that.”

Up ahead, the grumblings of a halted train turned to the creaks of movement, and Ryuu picked up the reins again. “Whatever you say, bossman.” Daichi grunted. The cart jerked as they resumed filing into the torchlit tunnel, too deep for even the low-angled sunlight to reach through. “It’s gonna be fun, hearing that story from up front,” Ryuu commented, head craned for a last look at this side of the wall. Daichi hummed and sat back, crossing his arms as the tunnel swallowed them.

Chapter Text

The hours after the wall crossing were tense along the Oikawa line, a combination of being outside the walls’ protection, the half-baked claustrophobia from the wall itself, and the unknown presence of the trespasser. The trespasser in question didn’t leave Tooru’s side, keeping pace at Happy’s halter as Tooru chattered and everyone else stared. Word trickled back as the shadow the wall cast on the countryside shrank – he didn’t talk, he was covered in scars, he smelled like he bathed in the stable trough, he growled like he drank from it. Daichi was hard-pressed to tell if the talk was about him or about Happy.

The road hugged the outside of the wall, north-south, with tributaries splitting off into the wide open terrain that Daichi couldn’t quite comprehend to the west. Their lunch break was at their departure point into the wilds, a common rest stop with beaten earth at both corners. The stranger hid in the animal fold, fur and feathers shielding him from prying human eyes. The humans in question clustered around their leaders – the captain, Tooru, and his Hajime-shadow that clung tighter each day. Tooru smiled at his crew in his role of benevolent dictator. “Have a good morning, everyone?”

“Cut the crap,” Shigeru snapped, stomping up. Daichi raised an eyebrow, but no one else seemed shocked at his outburst. “What the hell did you just let in?”

“His name is Ken, and he’s mostly harmless, Shigeru.” Tooru flapped a hand. “He’s just a lost soul who needs a little guidance.”

“What, so you’re going to hire every stray we run across here to the Spirit World?” Shigeru was hysterical now, hands waving, face red. The other guards stepped back – Daichi and Ryuu were already at the back of the group. “He’s not stable! For all we know he’s going to run off, or knife us in the night, or lead the Fire Nation right to us!” Shigeru crossed his arms, foot tapping. “And you’re just going to let him come?”

Others chimed in to Shigeru’s rant – didn’t he know what a Seijoh guard had to go through to get here? Why would you hire someone we don’t know, or don’t know what they can do? Hajime was one thing, since he came endorsed by the Sugawaras, but this stranger was a complete unknown. No one had ever been acquired on the road before, so why was he special? All valid complaints to Daichi’s mind, but this wasn’t his fight. He and Ryuu stepped away to let internal affairs handle it. Tooru watched the whole thing with a steady, false smile, hands on his hips. Hajime at his shoulder was less impassive, but Tooru stopped him with a backhand to the chest before he could take a step. Then he held that hand up for silence; the chatter buzzed down.

“I understand your concerns,” he said, as pleasant as a spring day, “but that doesn’t change my decision.” His fingers curled into a fist at the muttering outburst, and it fell silent again. “However, I will agree to put him on a probationary arrangement, so to speak. Give him a few weeks, and if he’s not up to Seijoh standards, we’ll leave him with a nice town to find a new job.” He smiled over the populace. “Is that agreeable?” There were more mutterings, some shrugging – Shigeru puffed up – but no actual dissent. He sighed and lowered his hand. “I guess that will have to do.” The crew was about to disperse, but then- “Oh, and Yahaba?”

He stepped in to bump toes with Shigeru, shedding friendly Tooru and melting right into a new, daunting, intimidating cloak – Daichi had no idea how he did it, but the air changed around him as he loomed over Shigeru, his smile a slice now. A rule the world, bow before me, Oikawa smile. “Don’t ever challenge my authority in public again,” he said, voice quiet and an octave lower, but they all heard it anyway. Shigeru’s throat worked in a swallow, and he nodded, eyes wide. He beamed, and Tooru was back, clapping him on the shoulder as he stepped away. “Oh, Iwa-chan! Go check on the newest recruit, please?”

Hajime ducked a nod – Daichi swore there was a smile – and stole off to the animal herd as the crew dispersed for real, off to find lunch and a seat. Ryuu sagged next to Daichi, a sigh leaking out.

“Man, I’m glad you don’t know how to do that, bossman.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep for a week.”

Daichi glanced back at Tooru, talking with Irihata – who hadn’t said a word during the whole thing, even though he was the captain and the oldest, most experienced one here. He had the same not-smile on that Hajime had failed to hide as he nodded at Tooru, hands behind his back.

He couldn’t do it now, but maybe he could learn.

As the afternoon faded into evening, the wall shrank in fractions behind them, and the tense morning mood faded back to normal. Ken kept sticking to Happy’s side like a prickerburr, and Happy kept letting him. Ryuu took up teaching Daichi how to read lips, since there was no time like the present. Tooru was a good target, visible in his bright colors and expressive face and constant conversation. When he gave up on trying to make Ken talk, he turned to his shadow. As Daichi watched and Ryuu taught, Hajime opened up to this unlikely assault, smiling and laughing with Tooru’s animated stories. Ryuu didn’t know Hajime well enough to be freaked out, since Daichi was the only one at the Sugawaras Hajime said a full sentence to, and he was too embedded in his teaching role to pay attention to the conversation they were translating. But Daichi knew Hajime like he knew himself, and he knew the only thing that loosened him up that much was Koushi.

He was a rather bad student that day. He didn’t want to find out how much they sapped it up.

They saw the inn they were slated to stop at five miles before they got to it – plains were weird. Hajime fell back from the head of the train, directing his ostrich-horse like his first ride hadn’t planted him in the mud, and waited by the road for Daichi and Ryuu to pull alongside. He clucked his mount into step beside them; their lip-reading lessons meant they knew what he was going to ask. Ryuu grinned – he was going to make him say it anyway. “What’s up, spiky?”

Hajime grunted, wild hair even wilder after a week on the road. “We’re putting the new guy in your room for the night.” Daichi pretended to be surprised. “Everyone else might kill him if he sleeps in their presence, and I trust y’all to at least be civil.” He arched an eyebrow at Ryuu’s pointed grin. “Well, by comparison, at least.”

Daichi nodded as Ryuu shrugged as flippantly as he could, failing to copy Tooru’s aloof tone as he said, “As long as he gets a real bath first, I think we can do business.”

Hajime nodded. “I’ll make sure of it.” He galloped back up the three wagons of the line between them and the head to deliver the news. Ryuu stretched out, propping his feet up.

“Gonna be a fun night, bossman,” he yawned, flipping his straw sunhat down over his face. Daichi twisted the reins around his wrist.

Daichi spent most of dinner listening to Shigeru whine about the new recruit, who was nowhere to be seen – hopefully in a real bath, if he was to sleep in the same room as Daichi’s nose that night. Daichi hummed along and let Shigeru vent, mostly watching Hajime and Tooru across the inn. They were sitting beside each other on the bench, facing opposite directions in two different conversations. Just two people in a crowded room – but, when Tooru turned to ask Hajime something, he flipped the bottlebrush end of Hajime’s braid against his chin with a cheeky grin. Instead of slapping him away, Hajime caught his hand, looking over his shoulder, mouth hidden behind their fingers.

Daichi decided to leave them be and put his attention on his food and Shigeru’s bitching, continuing on despite his wandering focus. “I mean, where are they even gonna put him? In the stables? Of course, that’s where he belongs-”

“Oh,” Daichi interrupted, mouth full. “He’s with us tonight.” Shigeru’s mouth swung open. Daichi swallowed his food and the laugh bubbling up. “Something about trusting us not to kill him.” Shigeru sat in stunned silence while Daichi cleaned off his plate in record time and thumped him on the shoulder. “Night, Shigeru.” He drew breath to dive back into his rant with a second wind, but Daichi ran away – there was only so much whining he could hear with a straight face, and he didn’t know any of the Seijoh crew well enough yet to know how they would take a slap to the head.

Ryuu was still having fun with the other guards in the corner by the fireplace, so Daichi went up to their room alone, humming along to the musicians plinking away from the other corner. The music faded as he climbed the stairs to the long hallway of the floor Seijoh had taken over. Daichi paused at the room they were given – turned the knob, gave it a second, then went in.

The new kid – Ken – spun to the door, hand over his face, bared eye wide. A cornered animal. Daichi held his hands up, still on the threshold. “Whoa there.” Daichi took two steps to the side so the door could close, Ken’s eye following. He was wearing the underarmor of the Seijoh guard uniform, a brown shirt and brown pants, baggy at the knees and wrinkled shirttail untucked. Daichi smiled, hands still up. “Feel better?” Ken huffed, turning his back on Daichi to fumble with something on the bed – that wicked eyepatch of his. Daichi stepped forward. “Want some help with that?” Ken snarled – he would have to keep this guy away from Ryuu before they picked up each other’s bad habits – and did the two clasps up himself. He spun back to Daichi, who lowered his hands to his sides and walked across the room like normal to his pack. “You get something to eat?” Daichi asked. “I can go bring something up if the crowd there’s too much for you.”

Ken grunted with a sharp shrug. Daichi dug around for his toothbrush, chewing on his tongue. The air around this guy felt a lot like Hajime when he first came to the farm, but worse, tension pulling the knots in his aura too tight to undo with just a few tugs. It would be an ordeal, getting this guy to loosen up, but it was hard to go wrong with food. Daichi kept travel snacks in his bag, so now he fished out a granola bar and tossed it onto the bed a few feet from Ken, who jumped like it bit him. He watched Daichi sling a towel and a change of clothes around his neck, rooted to his spot. Daichi flicked a salute with his toothbrush. “Going to the bathhouse, back in a few.” Ken grunted his acknowledgement – that was the best Daichi was gonna get, apparently. He sighed and left, glancing back over his shoulder at the door and caught Ken poking at the granola bar. He smiled and stepped into the hall.

Daichi managed to keep Ryuu from picking a fight in the tiny room, mostly because Ken faked sleep and Ryuu was worn out from drinking too hard downstairs and passed out as soon as he hit the mattress. Daichi was restless, though, trying not to toss and turn as Ryuu snored next to him and the inn sank into sleep. He was tired, but his head wouldn’t settle. He buried his face in the cheap pillow and groaned.

Floorboards creaked behind his turned back; he froze. Another creak, another. Headed to the window. Daichi frowned – did Ken want air, or-

The shutters opened, moonlight spilling on the wall over Daichi. He watched a shadow hop onto the sill, crouching there. Before Daichi could figure out if he was supposed to stop him or not, a new shadow materialized in the rectangle from outside. “Going somewhere?” Hajime’s voice growled. Ken fell back into the room, landing with a dull thump on the floor. Ryuu snorted in his sleep. The Hajime-shadow swung in, his landing soundless. “Look, kid,” he mumbled, “I don’t care where you’re from or where you wanna go. You’ll get there. But you’re not as sneaky as you think.” Another grunt – sharp and whining. “Yeah, you’ve got at least two broken ribs, and that eye is right on the edge of infection, and I know when a nose ain’t get set right. I bet if we set a healer on you they’d be shocked you’re still standing.” Daichi raised his eyebrows at the empty light square. “We’ve got one on staff, y’know. If you play nice, we can fix you up before you fuck off for good.” A few moments of silence except for clothes shifting. “I bet if you ask, Tooru would let you take care of Happy.”

“I wouldn’t know how,” Ken said, deep voice scratchy from disuse.

“That’s what learning is for.” He stood – his head popping into moonlit frame – and helped Ken to his feet. “Do we have a deal?”

A long beat. “How did you know?”

“Maybe one day I’ll tell you.” He hopped back into the window. “Night, Daichi.” Daichi jerked to sit up, but Hajime was gone as silently as he arrived. Daichi rubbed at his face to hide that he was checking on Ken, standing in the middle of the room, staring at the window. His blind side was to Daichi, so when Daichi made deliberate noise, he nearly jumped out of his eyepatch. Daichi gave a weak smile; Ken’s face screwed up, and he threw himself back into bed, boots still on. Daichi snorted and laid back down, going to sleep with the crickets chirping through the open window.

The next day at drill, Daichi saw Hajime approach Shigeru and tap him on the shoulder. He hid a smile behind his hand and nudged Issei’s outstretched foot with his as they loosened up together. “Watch this,” he said, waving a hand at the coming storm. Issei raised a heavy brow and turned as Hajime talked – Daichi caught ‘help’ and ‘hurt’ – and Shigeru’s face screwed up like a persimmon. His screeched “What?” echoed all around the back courtyard. Issei snickered as Shigeru puffed and stomped, Hajime waiting with his arms crossed for him to blow out. Daichi grinned and reached for his toes.

“What do you supposed that’s about?” Issei pondered, trailing off into a hum, twisting with his arm braced on his opposite bent knee. Daichi shrugged.

“New kid’s all banged up,” he said, “and someone’s gotta fix him.”

Issei slow-blinked a few times before a smile spread. “Oh, this is gonna be good.” He bent back to find Takahiro with a few other guards a few yards away. “Hey, Taka! Over here!” Takahiro spun at the summons, then excused himself and bounded over, sitting down and making it a triangle. “Guess what?”

Daichi finished stretching as they gossiped, cackling at Shigeru’s poor, woebegone plight. Shigeru wasn’t exactly disliked by his coworkers, but he had a tendency to ride on his high ostrich-horse, and Seijoh never missed a chance to knock him off it. Irihata whistled them to order, unconcerned with Shigeru’s continued blustering. Hajime shrugged and joined the lineup as Daichi got to his feet with the rest. It would be a treat to be a fly on that wall.

“I need you to babysit Yahaba and the new guy,” Tooru told Daichi over lunch. Daichi paused mid-chew and stared at Tooru’s appearance on the rock next to him.

“Good mornin’ to you, too.” He swallowed. “And, do what?”

Tooru made a face around the mouth of his waterskin. “Yahaba is being a little diva about the whole affair, and Ken is- recalcitrant about accepting help from me.”

Daichi raised an eyebrow with a frown. “Recalcitrant?”

Tooru blinked at him, then rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish grin. “Oh, sorry, farmhand – you’re so quick, sometimes I forget-” He broke off, eyes piercing, jaw working. “Can you read?”

The sudden question shocked Daichi into the truth. “Sure, but I don’t make a practice of it.” He tilted his head. “What, did you think the Sugawaras didn’t educate us?”

Tooru waved a hand. “You learn not to assume things.” He took another swallow before elaborating, “Recalcitrant means reluctant. I think I might have to get Hajime to tie him down to fix his ribs, much less that eye or anything else he might have going on.” He swirled the half-full skin around, water sloshing. Daichi shoved the last of his sandwich in his mouth. “But Yahaba listens to you, for whatever reason, and you’re a calming presence. Ken seems a hair less tense this morning.” That was true – he was only sitting by himself next to the herd instead of invisible in it, eating with the single-minded intensity that he seemed to do everything with. Tooru shrugged. “I won’t ask you to be their mom, but it would ease my mind if you made sure Yahaba didn’t make his injuries worse instead of better.” He held the waterskin out to Daichi with his jumping-off-cliffs smile. “What do you say?”

Daichi considered the offering, then took the skin and pulled a long draw. “This is a slippery slope, ain’t it.”

Tooru laughed, pounding him on the back. “Of course not! I’m not your boss, after all!” Daichi covered his cough with the back of his hand and wrinkled his nose at Tooru’s charmer grin. Tooru popped to his feet. “I’ll send for you tonight after dinner, mkay?” He flitted off to continue his rounds around the crew, talking to everyone with his perennial bright face and sharp laugh. Daichi sighed.

“I want you to know I’m only doing this because I’ll be fired if I don’t,” Shigeru snapped at Ken that evening. Tooru had talked the innkeeper into lending them a closet and a cot to service as a first-aid station. Daichi leant back on the door, arms crossed, as Shigeru and Ken squared off, Shigeru red and livid, Ken’s hackles raised. Ken’s lip curled – so the sentiment was returned. Shigeru huffed – exhaled. “Whatever.” He pointed at the cot. “Just– lie down.” Ken didn’t move at first, but when Daichi made to push off the door, he stomped over and threw himself down, glaring at the ceiling, arms stiff at his sides. Shigeru took the stool by his side, just as stiff, and waved his water out of the skin on his back. “You wanna tell me what hurts, or do I have to do this the hard way?” Ken grunted; Shigeru sneered back. “Such a baby.” The water coated his hands in the familiar liquid gloves, glowing as he waved them over Ken, work making some of his temper bleed away. His back was to Daichi, but he could hear the hitches and hisses from eyepatch to ankles.

When he finished his diagnostic scan, he tucked his water away, sucked in a breath, then sprang to his feet, fists at his side. He glared down at Ken, vibrating, as Ken glared right back, jaw set. Shigeru spun, screwed-up face blotchy. “Let me out,” he growled.

Daichi frowned. “Shigeru-”

“No. Let me out.” Daichi pursed his lips, but opened the door, releasing Shigeru to the hall, stepping out after and closing it behind them. Shigeru paced in the tight space, tearing his hair right out of its ponytail. “Daichi, that – thing, he shouldn’t even be walking right now!” he hissed. “I’ve seen corpses in better condition than that!” He flipped on Daichi – the intensity in his face wasn’t anger anymore, but distress – wide-eyed, nostrils-flared alarm. “I don’t even know where to start! What would possess someone to be this much of an idiot?”

Daichi hummed. “That bad, huh?”

“That bad?” He counted out on shaking fingers. “Three broken ribs, torn ligaments everywhere, a ruptured disc, broken nose, missing tooth, sprained knee and elbow and wrist, infection all over the place, hairline fracture in his shin, strained hamstring-” He sucked in a breath through his nose. “And that eye!” He gritted his teeth. “He’s got a fever, he probably needs a blood transfusion and about five splints and to not move for at least two weeks!” He threw his hand at the closed door. “And here he is, acting like everything is peachy-keen, trying to be friends with Happy!”

Daichi watched his shoulders heave as he drew strength for his second wind. “Well, can you fix him?”

“Fix him?” Shigeru shook his head hard enough that his hair tie popped off of the strands it was still clutching, pinging on the wall. “I’ll be lucky if he makes it to the Green River alive!”

Daichi bent and picked up the tie, handing it over. “Sounds to me like you better get started.”

Shigeru gaped, then set his jaw and nodded once, snatching the hair tie and throwing his ponytail back up, marching back in and snapping orders at Ken, who had sat up on the cot while they were gone. Daichi stayed long enough for him to get shoved back down and lectured at, but Shigeru trickled off into silence as he became absorbed in the healing, forehead a mass of wrinkles, hair sticking to his face. Ken watched, rough face impassive and unreadable. Daichi slipped out as they argued about taking off the eyepatch to report to Tooru, humming with the distant music. The Green River was two weeks away, according to Ryuu. Maybe by then these two would have sorted out their differences.

Chapter Text

The Green River, like many of the natural landmarks Daichi had passed in the last two weeks, was misleadingly named. What water he could see at the bottom of the canyon it carved through the Skypeak Mountains foothills was a dark grey, flecked with white where it foamed around distant rocks, the rapids a dull roar against the wind and birdsong. They had been following the river cliffs south for a day now, breaking their steady northwest trend since leaving the wall. The southern crossing was closer by several days’ travel and more trafficked than the north, but it came with its own set of drawbacks.

Wakunan South Bridge was more of a town, three times as large as the human cluster at the wall crossing, buildings sprouting out of either end. The bridge itself was wide and granite enough to have its own multitiered roofs lining its fancy railings, the arches below a bending feat that made Daichi whistle when he could see enough to admire. Ryuu made a grand gesture towards it. “Take a good look at your last breath of civilization!”

Issei snorted as he rode by them. “If you say so.”

Ryuu leant into Daichi’s side, stage-whispering, “If you can’t tell, Seijoh hates this town.”

Daichi, who had listened to muttered grumbles since they turned south, grinned. “Really? I had no idea.”

Issei sneered and bent a pebble from the road up to tap Daichi’s shoulder. “Piss off, bossman.” He continued past to whine with Takahiro as Ryuu cackled at him.

“What’s the beef, anyway?” Daichi asked, hefting the pebble in his hand before tossing it back to the gravel. Ryuu shrugged.

“Some family thing, I don’t know and I don’t care. All’s I know is we always get an extra day or so to look at real girls before that-” he waved at the mountains to the right – “and all’s we got is Yahaba.” A water whip cracked out to snap the back of Ryuu’s neck. He yelped, and Daichi snickered. Ryuu made a face back at a smug Shigeru. “Keep it up, city boy, and I’ll break that pretty face of yours.”

Shigeru fluttered his eyelashes, ostrich-horse sidling under him. “You think I’m pretty, Tanaka?” Ryuu made a funny grumbling noise, and Daichi threw his head back with his laugh. Shigeru wrinkled his nose with his grin.

The view of the bridge was hidden behind the next bend in the road. As they marched closer, the residential houses set back from the shoulders crept up and closer together until there was hardly any border space, then none at all. Traffic picked up as the walls grew in; the caravan had to break into segments to get through, following the wide avenue to its convergence at the bridge. Ryuu took over driving so Daichi could watch everything without running them into one of the surplus of colorful shops, wagons, food stalls, or people on the way. Flowers spilled out of balconies, people of all shapes and origins shouted at each other with a smile, travelers like them banging and clanging through the many uneven intersections, a complicated dance performed under a crisp blue sky and the watchful eyes of a big house on the peak of the canyon by the bridge. Daichi’s eyes couldn’t open wide enough to take it all in – and they called this a town? Spirits, he never wanted to see what a city was like.

The watchful manor house was their endpoint for the day, towering over a retaining yard as big as a tea field. The pieces of the caravan reconnected there, milling about as the ostrich-horses stamped in the dirt. Tooru and Irihata were already gone when Daichi’s clump caught up, whisked away to find out how much the family who owned the bridge, the Nakashimas, would squeeze out of them this pass through their privately-owned, Earth Kingdom-sanctioned checkpoint. A few dusty faces in dusty browns kept an eye on them from a distance, trying and failing to be nonchalant around their stump of a card table. Some of the Seijoh guards glared back, but most turned away as they grumbled to each other and the drivers (the previous generation of Seijoh guards who were on the verge of retiring from the mercenary business). Ryuu watched it all with the unbridled glee of a good fight; Daichi rubbed his face and tried to be small and invisible.

It wasn’t long before Tooru and his captain emerged from a back door into the yard, but Daichi sighed in relief all the same. The two were talking over each other, both irritable, although Irihata did a better job hiding it. Tooru threw himself in Happy’s saddle and rode off in a huff; after a few words with Irihata, Hajime followed. Irihata turned to his crew and barked for the moveout. The caravan creaked out of the yard of glaring eyes and took a few turns away from the river to the largest inn yet, where Tooru was wrangling Happy while Hajime scolded him. Irihata signaled for a full stop, but the guards and drivers were already unloading (Ken butterfly-beelining to Happy’s temperamental side). Daichi was a beat behind, taking his and Ryuu’s bags in for his turn with the room and gear while Ryuu put the cart at the end of the line leading to an empty corner.

As Daichi watched, the nobleman’s carriage at the front of the line was unhitched from five fancy animals Daichi had never seen before. Then, four earthbenders working in tandem sunk the carriage into the ground, swallowing it and sending it sideways, earth rumbling. Daichi clapped his hanging jaw shut, digging his toes into the dirt. Now that he was paying attention with his feet on the ground, he could feel the rows of wood and metal a few feet under and several hundred yards out in all directions. “Well that’s one way to save on space,” he muttered, shaking the dust from his feet and following Seijoh into the inn.

Compared to the trends of the trip, this was an early evening halt. Once all the personal effects were settled and Tooru was done haggling with the proprietor, the band split up into its layers of social circles. Some stayed behind to rest or enjoy their host inn’s lively atmosphere, but the younger ones put on plainsclothes and went out to savor the last bites of urban culture and urban women. Ryuu refused to let Daichi stay in bed, shoving him into his spare tunic while salivating over the food in this town as they waited on the group to gather. Unsurprisingly, Issei and Takahiro were the ringleaders of the expedition; surprisingly, Hajime and Tooru showed up just before departure, Tooru still grumpy, Hajime as unreadable as always. No one commented on them arriving together, although Takahiro looked on the verge of dropping one when Issei kicked him. They exchanged a heavy look, but Takahiro shrugged and collected the youngest two guards, dragging them out of the inn to the street exit.

Daichi hung to the back of the group, smiling as Ryuu bounced ahead with the more boisterous guards. Hajime kept pace with him, Tooru on his other side, huffing and puffing. Hajime cut his eyes at Daichi, smile hidden in a dimple. Daichi grinned back just as Tooru let out a long, attention-seeking whine that lasted all the way to the door of the first designated stop of the night.

“Is something wrong?” Daichi asked over the first round. The eating-house (a new concept for ‘we have an inn and a bar and a grocery in the same building’ Daichi) was packed, so their big group had been split into smaller tables, the three of them shoved in a corner in the back. Hajime rolled his eyes where Tooru couldn’t see. Tooru slammed his hand down on the table, utensils rattling.

“Yes!” He chugged his drink and banged it back down, some of the beer sloshing over the edge. “Mr. Nakashima is such a slimy old bastard, with his-” Tooru sat up straighter, crossing his arms and cocking his head to one side, putting on a fake smile, lowering his voice an octave as he said, “Oh, I would love to talk business, but my son would be so glad to catch up with you, Tooru, think you could stick around for lunch tomorrow? Also I breed evil and worship the Fire Lord.” He flopped down to plant his face on the table, moaning. “I hate this stupid place.”

Daichi tapped his mug, trying not to laugh at Tooru’s despondent hair. Hajime had his fist pressed over his mouth, a smile in his eyes. “I may just be a poor, uneducated farmhand,” Daichi drawled – Hajime bit down on the flesh of his palm – “but I don’t see what’s so bad about that.”

“Because the Nakashimas are the worst!” Tooru cried loud enough for their neighbors to give them dirty looks, popping back up as Daichi and Hajime schooled their faces back to stoic. “Takeru is the sleaziest son of an eel-hound to share my nephew’s name, and the fact that they want me to stick around to talk to him?” He slurped his drink, nose wrinkling. “That’s awful news for the future.” Daichi tilted his head with a quirked eyebrow. Tooru sighed, some of his righteous anger bleeding out. “So, besides the Nakashimas being evil, there’s another reason I – and every other sane person – hate them.” A server came up to their table and dropped off a platter of assorted dumplings on a lettuce bed. Tooru flashed him a smile, then picked up one by the ends of his gloves and tossed it in his mouth. He blew on it in there, tongue out, then swallowed with a big gulp, fanning his open mouth, panting. Daichi snorted and decided to let them cool before trying them himself. Tooru pressed on, “I hate them because they’re rotten, blackmailing, extorting, monkey-breeding fences.”

Daichi blinked at him. “How can people be fences?”

Tooru made an ‘Mm!’ noise behind his mug, swallowing with a cough. “A fence is a middleman between a thief and a buyer or a smuggler,” he explained. “Sure, the Nakashimas are rich because they own the bridge, but they’re filthy stinking rich because they use their leverage to make innocents like myself do their dirty work.” He wrinkled his nose into his mug. “Ugh, empty.” He looked around for their server, but he was buried in the people milling about, so he shrugged and stole Hajime’s instead. “And it’s even worse because they let the kids do it so the adults can keep their noses clean, blame it on a rebel phase. Snake-weasels.” Hajime snatched his mug back from Tooru’s seeking mouth. Daichi slid his own out of Tooru’s long-armed reach. Tooru pouted, but Hajime didn’t flinch. Tooru’s nostrils flared. “Anyway, you best believe that tomorrow’s ‘catch up lunch’ will be Takeru shoving some illegal nonsense down my throat and expecting me to smile and swallow.” He threw another dumpling in his mouth. “Well, he’sh gonna ‘ave another t’ink comin’.”

Hajime tapped the arm of their passing server. “Can we get another round, please?”

Morning drill the next day hurt for everyone. Daichi knew his motions were sloppy and unfocused, but then again, his neighbors weren’t too far off. Even the ones who hadn’t gone out were bleary in the morning light – the only ones who seemed normal were Hajime, who never drank more than one, Shigeru and his pet patient, Ken (who was mostly recovered, but don’t tell Shigeru that), and Irihata, as unphased as ever. He ordered them through the motions, his baritone barks grating on Daichi’s aching head, each spin sloshing the nausea in his belly. Irihata pretended to be oblivious to everyone’s hangovers, but Daichi swore he saw a smile when one of the youngest guards missed a punch and fell face-first into the dirt.

He did take pity on them enough to end before individual sparring and released them to breakfast and a day off while he and Tooru dealt with whatever ‘illegal nonsense’ the Nakashimas had in store. Once the worst of their hangovers were past, Ryuu took Daichi to a well-kempt sidewalk along the side of the bridge with a view down the canyon. They sat on the edge and passed the hours talking about what Daichi forgot last night, stories from previous bad decisions on the road between Ba Sing Se and the North Pole, and other new geological formations as the sun rose to sparkle on the water below. People passed by them on business and pleasure – like the water, they bubbled and sparkled, but Daichi could always feel the threat in their smiles, warning against getting too close. It was a guarded city, but with as many foreigners as they got passing through, Daichi couldn’t blame them for being on their toes. Wakunan South really wasn’t that bad.

They had just grabbed some lunch and were headed back to the mainland when they saw a familiar stormcloud marching up the other side of the street. “Uh-oh,” Ryuu growled as Tooru’s hair bobbed in the wind, “here comes trouble.”

Daichi hummed. “He said he had a lunch date with a Nakashima son today.”

“Shit, really?” Ryuu winced, then crossed the road to intercept, jumping up to hook Tooru in a headlock and ruffle his hair – hopped away with a yelp, rubbing his side. “The hell?”

Tooru blinked – recognized Ryuu and Daichi. He smiled, but it barely dented his expression, white still lining his mouth. “Sorry, Tanaka, I didn’t see it was you.”

Ryuu grimaced. “Well, I learned my lesson about sneaking up on you, earth and fire.” They stepped to the side and out of the flow of the sidewalk traffic, Ryuu’s eyes narrowing as he examined Tooru’s drawn face. “You look like shit.”

Tooru shrugged and leant on the building next to them, massaging his temple, eyes closed. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Ryuu and Daichi exchanged a glance, Ryuu’s eyebrows drawn together over a sharp frown. Daichi propped himself on the windowsill by Tooru, Ryuu flanking his other side. “Did you eat anything before you huffed off?” Daichi asked. Tooru shrugged, eyes still closed.

“Not hungry.” His nose wrinkled. “Lost my fucking appetite.”

Ryuu bent over so he could gape at Daichi and mouth, ‘Fucker said what?’ Daichi pulled a face in response. Ryuu grinned and tapped Tooru’s arm with his fist. “Y’know, I’m pretty sure that place we’re crashing at has some fightin’ rooms next to the pool in the back.”

Tooru’s eyes popped open. “You’d let me beat you up?”

Ryuu’s grin grew. “Since me and the bossman here are the only ones on the trip who’ll fight you back without bein’ terrified you’ll fire them, hell yeah.” He tapped Tooru with both fists, a one-two touch. “And who said I’d just let you beat me up, hah?”

Tooru’s smile was weak and lopsided, but it reached his eyes at last. “I would never suspect you of going easy on anyone, Tanaka.”

“Hah!” Ryuu slung an arm around Tooru’s neck (carefully this time), hauling him down to his level and down the street. “Man, how long you known me? You can call me Ryuu already, shithead.”

Tooru laughed and let himself be led. “Only if you stop calling me ‘shithead’.”

Ryuu cackled. “No way, that’s a classic!”

Daichi trailed behind as Ryuu aggressively made Tooru feel better all the way back to the inn and down a back hall. An open door revealed a padded box of a room, windowless and battered, lit by a glowing rock embedded in the ceiling. Daichi closed the door behind them as they fell to stretching, Ryuu still chattering at a warming Tooru. When Tooru was like this, rough and smiling and close to being a normal person, Daichi almost understood what so many people saw in him.

The other two squared off, Ryuu grinning, Tooru focused, an unsteady calm. Daichi slid back to the cavity of the door to watch. Ryuu held up a hand and curled it towards himself. “Bring it on, city boy.”

Daichi’s untrained eyes couldn’t see the individual steps of their dance. One minute, they were circling each other, hands up, knees bent. The next, Tooru had done some fancy spin-step in, hooking Ryuu’s leg with his foot and knocking him on his back, knees pinning down his arms, thumb at his throat. Ryuu’s open-mouthed shock broke with a wheeze and a caw, followed by a hip twist that threw a smirking Tooru to the near wall with a whoosh of breath. Ryuu arched up and laughed, the wild one normally only heard when Yuu was around, fists in the air. “Oh, now we got us a rumble!” He sprang to his feet, shucking his tunic and tossing it in a corner. “Come at me again, shithead, let’s go!”

Tooru blinked at him from his sprawl on the mats. The fire that was always simmering just under his surface burst into new flame as his eyes widened, teeth showing. He flipped to his feet and followed Ryuu’s shirtless suit (although he had the decency to have an undershirt beneath) and resumed his stance. “I hope you don’t regret that, farmhand.” Ryuu cawed again and jumped in.

Three days pounded by in sweat and bruises and drunken late nights. Morning drill went on as usual, but Ryuu would sniff out Tooru afterwards and dig him out from whatever pitiful pit he had crawled into so they could maul each other until they were gross and happy. Daichi was the first punching bag picked when Ryuu needed to watch Tooru’s form or demonstrate a hold – Daichi stopped marveling at the feeling of flying and just learned how to fall right. Ryuu, of course, was a social animal, so the first familiar voice that wandered past the door was hooked in and plopped in the ring. Some of Seijoh was wary about fighting him – the younger guards because they didn’t want to hurt a boss that had never shown any interest in martial arts before, the older drivers because they still saw a kid between Tooru’s broad shoulders. (Hajime, Daichi noticed, refused to pair up with Tooru, but watched him spar with a peculiar longing Daichi never had a chance to ask about.) When Takahiro pinned Tooru face-first to the mats, though, and Tooru’s response was to laugh and kick his knee out, they stopped jumping at every touch and made teaching him (while keeping it a secret from the protective Irihata) the pet project to occupy time on their forced vacation.

At night, they kept up the pattern of going out, always hitting new places with a different teamup each time. Daichi drank or ate what was put in front of him and followed along, letting a few strangers of all genders drag him onto the dance floor when he was tipsy enough that he didn’t turn red when he stepped on their toes. One bad, bad night, he even let Tooru spin him around for a song, although he only knew that because of the teasing both of them got in the morning. It wasn’t more fun than one of the staff parties he had grown up on, country dances in the dust between houses and Ryuu’s sister’s homemade sake running through his veins, but it was different, and that was enough for now.

On the fourth day, Daichi saw the fidget in Tooru’s fingers that refused to settle, and with a glance and a nudge at Ryuu, extracted him from Seijoh’s hold to take Tooru for a walk. They whined for a bit, but before they had left the hallway they could heard the hollers as the sheep-dogs fell on each other, their one room having grown to three.

Daichi and Tooru meandered down the market avenue of the bridge, stopping at shiny things and chatting about the weather. The last few days meant that it didn’t surprise Daichi when Tooru ducked into a weapons stall, running long fingers over metal cut from all corners of the world. Daichi couldn’t say any of them appealed to him, but it was nice to get out of the sun and the noise for a moment.

Daichi leant on a shelf of swords Tooru was lingering over, crossing his arms. “You ever gonna tell me what’s got your goat-pig?” he asked.

Tooru tilted his head at him, smile twinkling. “And you say you don’t understand my vocabulary.”

Daichi chuckled out of manners, drumming his fingers on his bicep. “My way’s more fun, though.” He flipped the tassel hanging from a sword at his elbow. “You’ve been acting like a platypus-bear with a burr under its tail since that lunch with the Nakashima boy.”

Tooru’s smile froze. “Oh- that? That’s nothing, I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you!” He laughed, hollow and vapid, and grabbed the sheathed sword he had been coveting for a solid two minutes. “Think anyone back at our puppy pile can teach me how to use this?”

“Uh- probably?” Tooru beamed as fake as he knew how and bounced past Daichi to haggle with the shop attendant. Daichi frowned at his back, chewing on his cheek.

That night, in the quiet time between dinner and hitting the town, Tooru caught Daichi in the hallway and waved him into his room. Curious, Daichi obeyed, sitting in the offered chair while Tooru closed the door and sat at a little desk, littered with paper, brushes, and inkwells. He smiled. “I’m using our downtime here to catch up on my correspondence before it’s two weeks to a letter carrier.” He fished a scroll out, ricepaper crumpling. “This is going to Koushi, actually – you could add something on the end if you want!”

Daichi blinked at the close lines of characters flowing down the page. “I’ve never written a letter in my life.”

Tooru waved him off. “Oh, I can walk you through that – it’s only fair.” He beamed at Daichi, who pursed his lips under narrowed eyes. He sighed. “Okay, fine, there’s another reason I asked for you.” He rubbed his temple with the heel of his hand, staring at his cluttered desk. “I have a favor to ask.” Daichi nodded and waited. Tooru drew swirls with a watered-down brush on a piece of blotpaper. “There’s a dinner party at the Nakashimas tomorrow night – the youngest of the evil brood is turning eight.” He wrinkled his nose. “Demon child.” He cleared his throat and sat back, staring Daichi down. “I’d like you to come with me as my escort.”

Daichi blinked. “Excuse me? Me?” Tooru nodded. “But-” He flapped his hand back at the door. “You’ve got two dozen people out there who – the captain, or Hajime-” The skin around Tooru’s eyes tightened at Hajime’s name, but he didn’t say anything. Daichi scrubbed a hand over his hair. “Why me? I don’t know anything.”

“Exactly that.” Tooru leant forward, braced on his forearms, gesturing with his brush. “Everyone in Seijoh has bad blood in Wakunan of some kind or another – even your Ryuu, although his is more with the local girls. You’re the only true outsider. The situation they’re putting me in is… sticky, and I need your perspective on this.”

Daichi swished the thought around. “And what’s wrong with the captain or Hajime?”

“Mr. Nobu has his own invitation.” Tooru scowled at Daichi’s shoulder. “And Hajime – refused.” Daichi raised an eyebrow, but Tooru ruined his brush with a smash on the blotpaper and looked away without further explanation, a tight smile on his face. “So, I hope you don’t mind being my second choice.”

Daichi examined Tooru’s face for a long moment. Tooru watched him back, steady and humorless, patient. A clock ticked on the mantel. “A dinner party?” he asked at last. Tooru’s eyes crinkled.

“Don’t worry, it’s a mixed society, they’ve had much worse manners than yours grace their table.” Daichi huffed and sat back in his spindly chair. Tooru glanced him over. “And I’ll get you something decent to wear tomorrow.”

Daichi glanced down at his dusty, stained, old tunic, and knew his other one wasn’t much better. Oh. “That would be nice.” He crossed his arms, leveling his best foreman look at Tooru. “If I do this, I want to go in knowing at least a few things.” Tooru opened a hand. “What do the Nakashimas want from you so bad?”

Tooru sighed and flipped the ruined brush over to clean his nails with the pointed end. “Normally, their fee for a bridge crossing is inanimate. Some stolen art, perhaps, or illegal weapons, the like – my sister moved drugs for them once.” He switched to the other hand. “But they crossed a line this time, and unless we come up with an alternative solution, I’ll be forced to turn them down and waste time backtracking north and have to use Wakunan North for all future expeditions.”

Daichi whistled. “That bad, huh?”

Tooru nodded, a terse jerk. He exhaled through his nose. “They have a prisoner. A civilian. A minor. A firebender.” Both of Daichi’s eyebrows shot up as Tooru’s sharp eyes fixed on him. “And they want me to kill him.”

Chapter Text

“I feel like a poodle-monkey.”

“Well you look just fine, you big baby.” Tooru straightened Daichi’s too-high collar, laughter pooling in his brown eyes. He was dressed up, too, in something with a lot of white and gold that Daichi would stain or tear in the first few seconds of wearing it if they had forced him into it. Tooru wore it with natural ease – maybe this was his usual state instead of the dusty riding clothes Daichi had become accustomed to.

At least he had the decency to give Daichi something in muted Sugawara colors, something he could move in, but the long tight sleeves of the coat felt claustrophobic, and he would never like shoes. He wriggled his toes in their confines while Tooru fretted over him a little more, dropping hints and tricks with every seam adjustment until Daichi slapped him away. “Enough! You keep makin’ a fuss about me and I’m out.”

Tooru sighed and stood back, looking him over. “You clean up nice, Sawamura. I’ll have to tease Koushi about that.” Daichi’s ears flamed – Tooru checked the mantel clock. “Oh, we actually have a few minutes, you can tell him yourself!” He pushed Daichi over to his cluttered writing desk, sitting him down and unfurling his letter to Suga. Tooru got a brush ready and gave it to Daichi, who held it by the tips of his fingers, jaw clenched. Tooru snorted. “You’re not going to break it.” He slid up behind Daichi to adjust his grip, new callouses and newer blisters contrasting with the silk glide of his weird half-gloves covering three fingers. “Like that,” he said, breath misting over Daichi’s jaw. He unrolled Suga’s curling letter and weighed it down on the corners with mismatched inkwells, exposing a leftover blank space at the bottom – maybe a handspan. “Sorry I didn’t leave you much room.”

“That’s okay – I’m not sure what to say.”

“Whatever you want.” He patted Daichi’s shoulder. “It’s Koushi – he’ll be thrilled just to see your name.” Daichi huffed. “If it makes you feel better, I won’t read it when you’re done,” he said with a wink. “Let me know if you need any help.” He left him to it, expensive fabrics rustling as he finished getting himself ready. Daichi frowned at the paper, ignoring the closeknit characters Tooru wrote, and tried to figure out what he wanted to say.

Suga-

Tooru made me do this. Well, not that I don’t want to talk to you, but writing isn’t my best face. It’s been a good trip so far – I’m learning a lot from everyone. Tell your dad Ryuu needs a raise. Right now I’m all dressed up for a dinner party – can you believe that? It feels weird, like Saeko’s sake in a fancy gold cup, but I’m scared I’ll have to get used to it. Tell everyone I miss them, if you can. And I miss you.

Bye,

Daichi

Instead of going to the back door retaining yard like when they arrived in Wakunan South, the rented carriage joined the line to the grand windows of the front of the house, a cake of gilded rooftops and tall windows covered with something almost transparent that winked in the torchlight. Daichi and Tooru melted into the processional up the wide stairs, a formally-dressed Irihata right behind them with a gift tucked under his arm. Like Tooru promised, there were all levels of society here, from fancy people in local fashions to rough riders who hadn’t even brushed the mud from their boots. Daichi tried not to stare and focused on not tripping on the silver-veined marble of the threshold.

The receiving line slowed inside, giving Daichi a chance to gawk at a crystal chandelier and two-story murals that Tooru called ‘frescoes’ when Daichi asked before dismissing them with a huff and a muttered ‘tacky’ behind his fan. Irihata cut his eyes at Tooru, who bowed his head in false submission. Daichi grinned.

The line ended at a well-dressed couple in their forties, the man with a close shave and worry lines, the woman with a tight bun and a stance like she had six children and wasn’t afraid to use them. Between them was the supposed reason for this affair, a dolled-up boy who only smiled when his mother flicked his shoulder or when a guest handed over an especially interestingly-shaped package. Daichi glanced around with a new eye – there were no other kids in view, the next youngest probably being Tooru and Daichi’s age. He bit down on his frown.

Their turn to greet the hosts came up. Daichi bowed like he had been instructed, smiling at the parents – trying not to laugh when the boy yawned. The mother slapped his shoulder, and he made a face. Tooru plastered on his fake smile. “Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Nakashima,” Tooru drawled in his ‘look how silly and unthreatening I am’ voice. “And happy birthday, Ren!” The kid, Ren, blinked at him, unimpressed. The parents bowed back, smiles just as fake as Tooru’s. “You already know Captain Irihata from my guard,” he said with a wave at Irihata, who bowed at his name. “But may I introduce Daichi Sawamura, the Sugawara representative travelling with me to the Northern Water Tribes?”

Another bow – Daichi was going to get dizzy from it. Mr. Nakashima crossed his arms and cocked his head to one side. “I feel like I’ve heard that name before. Farmers, right?”

Somehow the way he said ‘farmers’ was different than when Tooru called him ‘farmhand’. He just nodded. “Tea, sir.”

“Ah. A respectable business.” He inclined his head at Tooru with a smirk. “My other children are mingling, but I know Takeru is looking forward to catching up with you.” Tooru’s fake smile fell away.

“Of course.” He whisked off into the milling crowd, Irihata a step behind as he handed off the gift to a servant. Daichi mouthed ‘happy birthday’ at the kid, who smiled back. Daichi winked, and he saw enough teeth to notice the two missing near the back before he had to hurry to follow Tooru or mess up the flow of the line.

To his credit, Tooru only huffed and puffed until the first person stopped him to say hello. Irihata had his own, older acquaintances to talk to, so Daichi stuck to Tooru’s side, letting him stave off any awkward encounters with the logistics of introducing him around the fascination of a new face. Most people at Tooru’s level of society knew each other or knew of each other, so an unknown family name was a novelty, even if he was just a farmhand.

Daichi was trying to explain where in the Outer Ring the Sugawara farm was to a strangely curious clutch of teenaged girls when a new arrival came up and clapped Tooru’s arm. “Leave some for the rest of us, huh, heartbreaker?”

Tooru peeled off the hand with a hard smile. “Only if they want me to.” The girls giggled as Daichi scrubbed a hand over his hair (thankfully, too short to do anything with). “Daichi, may I introduce Takeru Nakashima?” Frown lines dug into Takeru’s wide forehead, but he returned Daichi’s hasty bow as the girls watched the exchange from behind their fans.

“You’re the tea farmer, right?” Takeru asked. Daichi blinked and nodded. Takeru registered the surprise and smiled without quite smoothing out his forehead. “Word travels fast around here, haven’t you learned?”

Daichi laughed. “Well I have now.” He smiled – he wasn’t used to looking down at other men anymore. “Nice to finally meet you.”

Takeru flapped a hand. “Oh, I’m nothing special, don’t mind me.” He cut sharp eyes at an edging-away Tooru. “Got a minute, Oikawa?”

Tooru grinned like his teeth hurt. “For you? Never.”

Takeru’s lip curled. “Sometime tonight-”

“Come now, let’s not discuss your dirty laundry in front of the ladies,” Tooru said, gesturing at the girls without looking at them. “There’s no reason to blister their ears with talk of murder.”

Takeru stepped closer, hissing, “I told you, it’s not murder, it’s garbage disposal-” He grabbed Tooru’s arm. Tooru raised an unimpressed brow and flexed until Takeru let go, glaring down the full head difference between their heights.

“People aren’t trash,” Tooru snapped, eyes hard, mouth drawn. The tension strung out between the two of them; the girls started to look at each other and Daichi for help. Daichi opened his mouth to say something probably stupid-

A bell rang from the big doors across the room – a dinner bell. Daichi let out a whoosh of breath and grabbed Tooru by the elbow to drag him over, leaving Takeru to deal with the girls.

“Now that’s not very polite of you,” Tooru murmured as they hid in the funnel into the dining room.

“If that’s what y’all call manners, then I’ll stay an uncultured country bumpkin, thank you very much,” he growled. “How does Hajime deal with you all the time?”

Tooru chuckled. “A lot like this, actually.”

Irihata found them in the press of people, and they claimed three empty seats on one arm of a gigantic two-pronged dining table connected with a shorter table at one end. The short, wiry-haired family members took the middle leaf, the kid at the place of honor between his parents. Daichi watched him fiddle with a napkin for a moment, then looked down at his own place setting, laid with more utensils than he and his dad had in their entire house. “Uh.”

“Just go from the outside in,” Tooru mumbled from his right elbow, calmer now that he could put on his teacher hat again. “And if you don’t know, copy me, ask me, or ignore it.”

Daichi nodded. “I can handle that.” Irihata snorted from his left.

He had heard of multiple-course meals, mostly from complaining house servants and Ryuu and Yuu’s daydreaming, but they were more daunting than he anticipated – and they lasted forever. Course after course was shuffled in by servants clothed in that dusty brown, laden trays served from the inside of the tables, the food itself the entertainment when the dancers and jugglers broke away. The rounds of food may have been many (and really good), but they came in tiny bites that never made Daichi full. He was eating constantly, but he was starving.

When he wasn’t focused on making sure he didn’t embarrass himself with the fancy food or fancy customs, he was keeping an eye on Tooru, who was making idle prattle about the road conditions to his other neighbor, a weary-looking older woman, and her husband beside her. If Daichi wasn’t on edge about everything else, he would have laughed more at having finally found a woman Tooru didn’t flirt with or who didn’t flirt back. Still, he could see the tension buried in Tooru’s well-dressed shoulders and the sharp looks shot between him and the family table. Cushioned between the buffer of friendly neighbors holding other conversations, all Daichi could do was watch, eat, and wait for this stuffy affair to let out so he could get out of these itchy clothes.

Finally, finally, the party moved further into the house to a room with pretty furniture and two-story windows looking out over the canyon. The few stars visible through the cloud cover sparkled through the thin windows of the same transparent material as the front of the house. Daichi wandered over to them see how they were made while Tooru was besieged by more flowery-smelling girls than Daichi could count. He laid a hand on a corner of the window – it was rock, but cut so thin he could see through it to a wide veranda, empty at the moment – the breeze blowing through thrown-open doors smelled like rain. He had found his hiding spot until it was time to leave. Irihata could keep Tooru from getting into a fistfight with a Nakashima for a while.

The servants from dinner floated around with tea, wine, and bite-sized desserts; Daichi snatched a few pastries to bring back for Ryuu, sticking them in his pocket with his beltknife and kerchief as he meandered through people he didn’t know to a veranda door. He smiled when smiled at, but shuffled on until he could duck into the night and breathe again.

The veranda stuck out over the canyon’s edge, a graceful tile construction with flowers and vines trailing up the iron railing from below. He unclasped his suffocating collar and leant on the edge, staring down the dark river. He closed his eyes and turned his face into the wind, the pleasant noise of the party fading in its force. At least it was a nice night out.

Something sniffed behind him. He cracked an eye and looked over his shoulder to see a small dark blue bundle sitting in a dark corner, out of view from the house, knees pulled to their chest. “You okay there?” he called. The bundle jerked at his voice, but didn’t move. Daichi sighed and crossed the veranda to crouch on front of them, recognizing the haircut as it came into view. “What’s up, Ren?”

The birthday boy sniffed again, wiping his face on his sleeve. “My birthday stinks.” He planted his pout on his knees, glaring at Daichi’s shoulder. “Mama wouldn’t let me invite any of my friends, so all I got’s these stuffy old people and junk.” He hugged his legs tighter. “I thought maybe I could have a day the way I want.” He buried his face in his knees. “I hate being the youngest.”

Daichi sighed and sat next to him on the wall, stretching his legs out. “Well, I’m the only kid, so I’m not sure I totally get it, but if it makes you feel better, I hate this party, too.” Ren didn’t say anything in response, so Daichi let it sit, knocking his shoes together and analyzing the landscaping. “Sorry I didn’t bring you a present,” he said after a minute of silence. “I didn’t know I was coming until yesterday.”

Ren shrugged. “S’okay.”

Daichi hummed, looking over one of the thicker trees bending in the wind. “Still, I feel bad.” He got to his feet, stretching his arms over his head. “How ‘bout I make you something?”

Ren frowned up at him. “Now?”

“Sure.” He went over to the lime tree he was eyeing, pulling out his knife and sawing off a stump of a trimmed branch the gardeners had missed, feeling out the grains and edges as he walked back to his spot by Ren, who had unfolded, curious. “What’s your favorite animal?”

“Dog-foxes.” Daichi hummed and started to whittle at his wood chunk, angling so Ren could watch without making it obvious. “What’re you doing?”

“It’s called whittling. My dad’s real good at it.” He followed the line of the grain to make a fox-dog’s back, digging out the dip of its neck. “You chip away at something to find the shape hiding underneath.”

Ren tucked his legs under him, craning for a better look. “And you don’t cut yourself?”

“Well, sometimes I do, but if you’re careful it’s not that bad.”

Ren frowned. “Mama said knives hurt.”

“Anything can. It all depends on how you use it.” He spun the wood over to work on the legs. “Does your mama keep you from ‘em?”

Ren nodded, a few curls that had sprung from their topknot bouncing. “Uh-huh. She says they’re too dangerous.”

Daichi hummed. “Well she’s not wrong.” He found the ears, digging the snout out. It was half-formed, only his experience telling him what it would look like when he was done. The shape of the top was finished, but the bottom still had to be blocked out before details could be etched in. He held the wood and the knife out to Ren. “Wanna try?”

Ren’s face contorted, emotions highlighted by the inside light source. Thunder rumbled down the canyon. “You’d let me?”

“Sure. That way it’s really yours.” Ren still had a furrow on his wide forehead, hands slow to reach. He snapped them back.

“I forgot – who are you?” he asked. Daichi chuckled.

“My name’s Daichi. I’m a farmhand.” Ren nodded with a hmph and took wood and knife, holding the half-baked animal up to the light. Daichi slid in a little closer. “May I?” he asked, gesturing to the hand holding the knife. Ren nodded, allowing Daichi to adjust his grip. “I’m sorry it’s too big for you,” he said, “but we’ll have to make do.” He turned the dog-fox over. “Now, always cut away from you – belly-cuts are hard to fix.” Ren giggled. “We’re going to cut out the parts we don’t need for the tail – see?” He traced an outline with the tip of the knife, hand still over Ren’s. “Start small and slow, okay?” Ren nodded, tongue sticking out from a little smile as he dug the knife in the wood, shavings falling into his linen lap.

The kid was frustrated at first when it turned out to be harder than he anticipated, but Daichi coached him through it. If the tail came out a bit rougher than if he or his dad had done it, well, that didn’t really matter to either of them. By the time they were working on the feet, Ren was smiling and laughing like any new eight-year-old should be at his birthday party. Daichi smiled as he worked.

The first fat raindrop that hit Ren’s hand startled him in the middle of a cut. The knife slipped, slicing into the side of his thumb. He gasped, dropping the knife but keeping the dog-fox, watching blood well up. Daichi hissed and dug for his pocket kerchief, dirty and frayed, folding it up and pressing it to the cut. “There, you’re okay,” he said, gripping Ren’s thumb tight. “Pressure helps slow the bleeding.” More rain pattered down as Ren’s gasps smoothed out – more shock than actual pain. “Does it hurt a lot?”

Ren frowned at his hand. “I- well, yeah, but- not too much.” He wrinkled his nose. “I guess Mama was exaggerating.”

Daichi chuckled. “That’s kind of her job.” Daichi wiped his knife on his pants leg (luckily, a dark fabric) and fumbled it back in its sheath with one hand. “I guess that’s a sign to go back in, huh?” Daichi asked. “I bet your parents are missing you.”

Ren huffed. “No one ever misses me unless I’m in trouble.” He wrinkled his nose at his hand – red had started to show through the off-white. “Mr. Daichi, you’re good at fixing people, right?”

Daichi tilted his head. “Probably. Depends on the people.” He frowned. “Is something wrong?”

Ren hesitated – nodded. “I have a – friend, who really needs fixing. But I don’t think any other grown-up will help me help him.” He turned big eyes and babyfat cheeks to Daichi, raindrops rolling off them. “Will you?”

Daichi adjusted his grip on Ren’s hand. “I can try, but I can’t promise I can.” Ren worked his jaw, then tucked the dog-fox away and took his hand out of Daichi’s, clamping his uninjured hand over the cut, standing up. Daichi followed suit, legs whining. “I hope this friend of yours is out of the rain,” he said as lightly as he could.

Ren shrugged and pointed straight down with his clasped hands. “Sort of. He’s down there.” He ran to a side door before Daichi could respond, hands clasped in front of him. Daichi jogged after, keeping pace as Ren navigated the maze of the mansion, party noise long gone, down a tucked-away, poorly-lit staircase to a dirt wall dead end.

“He’s through here,” Ren panted, digging his elbow into the dirt. “Papa and Tak and Chiyo and everybody else don’t think I know about this place, but usually it’s empty, and it’s the best place to hide where they can’t pick on me.” He started to earthbend through, shove by shove, form hindered by his hands. “I was down here when they threw Tadashi in a few weeks ago, and I really want to help him, but I’ll get in so much trouble if I just let him out, and he’s really really nice, even for a firebender, and I bring him food and stuff when I can but he needs a lot more help than that-”

Daichi put a hand on a babbling Ren’s shoulder. “Shh, I don’t want someone to hear us.” Ren’s eyes shone in the distant torchlight, but Daichi just stepped forward from stone to earth – muffled a curse, kicked off his shoes and thrust them in his shirt, digging his bare toes in. The dirt opened up just a few steps through to a long empty space extending in both directions, other empty boxes formed along it in the same style as this entrance. He bent it aside – Ren had already run up to grab the nearest lantern. Daichi took it from him and stepped through, bending it shut behind Ren. “You said his name was Tadashi?” he whispered. Ren nodded as he led the way to the right. “Is he the firebender everyone’s in a ruckus about?”

“I think so. They don’t tell me nothin’, but they never notice when I’m listening.” He shrugged. “Tadashi hasn’t firebent at all, even when I asked him to show me, but he doesn’t say he’s not.” He stopped at a box. “He’s in real bad shape, Mr. Daichi.”

Daichi nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Ren took the kerchief off his thumb – the bleeding had slowed enough that he just had to lick it every now and then – and shoved it through his sash, bending a slot open at his height. Cold wind burst through, but he held firm. “Tadashi? It’s me, Ren.”

“What’re you doing here?” a thin, raspy voice wheezed through after a moment. “It’s late.”

“I know, but I brought someone I think who can help you.”

“What?” the voice said, farther away. “No- no, Ren-”

“It’s okay,” Daichi said, bending down to Ren’s opening. “Ren told me, and I don’t want to hurt you. Swear on my mama’s grave.”

A long, long silence, with just the wind blowing through the black square. “Okay.” Ren and Daichi exchanged a glance, then stepped back so Daichi could bend the door open. The wind hit them full force, pounding at Daichi much harder than on the veranda, drops of water pinging on his raised hands. He frowned and shoved through it, entering the cell – because that’s what this was. A secret prison.

The only light came from a long, rectangular opening along the bottom of the far wall, only a few steps away. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could make out a lip over the edge and the sparkling darkness beyond – moonlight reflecting off the water. The prison opened into the canyon. Daichi spared a moment to wonder at what creative, twisted mind dreamed this one up, then turned to the far corner, where Ren already was.

If Daichi had thought Ren was a pathetic bundle on the veranda earlier. This scrap of humanity was a knot of rags and matted hair, bare feet and hands chapped, face hidden behind it all. Ren knelt a few feet in front of him, talking, but the wind snatched his words away. Daichi crossed to kneel next to him and didn’t miss how the rags cowered away from him.

“-and he’s really nice, and not a stuffy grown-up at all, and he taught me how to whittle! See!” Ren held up the almost-done dog-fox for the rags to inspect. Tadashi raised a shaking hand to tuck some hair aside, one eye visible for a moment before it fell back. “He said he can help you! Well, he said he’ll try.” Ren looked at Daichi, smile big and white on his face. Daichi clenched his fists on his knees.

“Hi, Tadashi. I’m Daichi.” He gave a little bow; after a second, the hair ducked in a nod. Daichi’s blood had been running cold since Ren had said the word ‘firebender’, but as he inspected the filthy kid in front of him, none of the ire he was supposed to feel was coming forward, only sick pity and shaking anger at whoever had done this to him. He ground his teeth, undone collar flapping against his jaw in the wind. He dug out the wrapped pastries he had been saving for Ryuu, holding them out. “You hungry?”

A wheeze that might have been a laugh broke off into a hacking, wet cough. “Yeah,” the raspy voice said when he recovered. Daichi held out the desserts on open palms, letting Tadashi take them with quivering hands. Daichi’s throat closed up as they disappeared behind the hair, the rags curling around the food, full-body shivers wracking his (most definitely underfed) frame. Daichi ripped open his coat and shrugged it off, holding it out for Tadashi to take. He considered it, one eye glittering. “I’ll get it dirty,” he breathed.

“I don’t give a fuck.” He cut his eyes at Ren. “Don’t tell your mama where you heard that.” Tadashi laugh-coughed again and took the fancy coat, fumbling to put it around him. Daichi fixed it for him around his shoulders – stopped. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to touch you without your permission.”

Both of Tadashi’s eyes peered at him this time, set in a dirt-scarred, stinking face. The colors were muted in the dim light, but Daichi thought he saw old blood caked on his cheek. Tadashi smiled. “It’s okay. I’ve had worse.”

Something was boiling in Daichi’s chest as he sat back, hands shaking for different reasons than Tadashi’s. Ren waited next to him, curious but patient. Tadashi wiped his mouth of pastry flecks, hiccupping. The boil simmered – they had been lounging for days, letting the nice-looking people go back and forth about politics and blackmail, drinking until they woke up with headaches, laughing, while all the while, this kid had been stuck here with only an even more stuck kid as company, probably fed and watered once a day like an animal, or a houseplant, elements battering him for – Ren said for weeks. While they hosted fancy dinner parties a few stories above.

“I’m going to kill him.” Tadashi jerked back as Ren gasped – he blinked at his surroundings. “Oh, no, not you, someone else. Multiple someones.” He shoved to his feet, staring down at Tadashi, who kept his head bowed behind his curled-up knees. “I’m sorry to leave you,” he said, “but I have to go beat some humanity into a few people. I’ll be back to get you out one way or another.” Tadashi just shuddered – well, in his situation, Daichi probably wouldn’t believe him either. He looked at Ren, his round face confused. “Ren, let’s go find your brother.” He lit up, dashing out the cell door, which Daichi didn’t bend closed as he stormed after him, something hot and red and unfamiliar steaming under his skin. Ren raced him through the mansion halls, ecstatic and hyper, but Daichi just couldn’t match his mood. The new red thing only got hotter as it grew.

He collected himself enough that he didn’t burst into the dessert room and cause even more of a scene than he was about to. They slipped in another side door – this house was full of them – and looked around for Tooru, Takeru, or Irihata. All three were missing, which was easier to tell now that over half of the crowd had gone home. Ren ran over to a servant and tugged on her sleeve. “Miss Lia, do you know where Tak is?”

She blinked down at him, freckles stark on her cheeks. “Master Ren? But the mistress said you were abed hours ago-” Her eyes flicked to Daichi – away. “He’s been holed up in his study for quite some time,” she answered, piling more dirty dishes on her tray. “That boy’s always-”

“Thanks!” Ren interrupted with the grace of an eight-year-old, running back the way they came. Normally Daichi would apologize, throw a joke her way, but this wasn’t normal. He left the confused maid behind and followed on Ren’s heels, longer legs keeping up with Ren’s mad dash.

They went upstairs this time, through lavish furnishings and artwork bigger than a bed. The labyrinth ended at a dark wood door, raised voices calling through the thick oak. Daichi paused with his hand on the knob and looked down at an eager Ren. “I’m about to use a lot of very bad words,” he murmured, “so don’t tell your mama where you heard ‘em, either.” Ren mimed sealing his mouth shut and throwing away the key. Daichi set his jaw and threw the door open so hard it bounced back from the wall.

Tooru and Takeru shot up in unison, squared off across a table from each other. Irihata was planted on the side facing the door between them, normally impassive face tomato red. Tooru scowled at Daichi. “Where have you been? I’ve been trying to shed this slimepool for an hour – where’s your coat? No, we’re not taking the deal, Takeru can-”

Daichi slammed his hands down on the table. “Shut it.” Tooru’s gaping mouth slapped closed as Daichi glowered alternately at Tooru and Takeru, both in high color and ruffled distress. “Let me ask you something,” he said, tone low. “In all your fussing and fighting, did either of you bother to learn his name?” Silence – appalled from Takeru, shocked from Tooru, considerate from Irihata – met his question. “I didn’t think so.” He rounded on Tooru. “Did you know that while you’ve been suffering this internal crisis of yours that they’ve got a kid in an open-faced cell in their cliffside basement?” Tooru’s nose wrinkled. Takeru’s eyes widened – finally registered his brother hiding behind Daichi. Daichi pinned Takeru down with his scowl before he could snap at him. “And did you know that, apparently, the only person in this flea-infested house who gives a damn about anyone but himself is an eight-year-old?” Takeru’s nostrils flared, but Daichi wasn’t done. “I guess I’m grateful y’all neglect him, if y’all were raised to treat anyone like that boy down there has been treated. It makes me sick.”

Takeru frowned. “Now wait just a minute-”

“No.” Irihata’s heavy eyebrows shot up at Daichi’s cold cutoff. “I will not wait any more minutes to get Tadashi out of your greedy reach.” His fist curled on the table. “If you don’t let me take him out of there now, so help me, I’ll dig him out of there myself before sunrise.”

Another heavy silence hung over them as Daichi glared around the room. Ren still clutched his shirt, but he was scowling at his brother, too, hovering at Daichi’s elbow. Tooru looked like snail-centipedes had crawled into his pants, uncomfortable and wriggling, lip bitten. Takeru was a livid red, reared back, knuckles white at his sides. Irihata’s eyes narrowed, a hand stroking his chin.

“Nakashima.” Both Takeru and Ren looked to Irihata. “You just want the firebender gone, right?”

Takeru’s face contorted through several negative emotions before settling in a pout and an “I guess.” He opened his mouth for more useless opinions, but one glance at Daichi’s face snapped it closed.

Irihata kept stroking his chin, staring blankly at the grain of the table. “I think we could suffer another mouth to feed, for a while,” he drawled, then met Daichi’s eyes. “If you’re willing to take responsibility for the boy-”

“I am,” he answered. Ren squeaked so only he heard.

Irihata nodded. “Then, by your leave, Oikawa, I believe we could escort him to a safer location for all involved.” He cut his eyes at Takeru. “Without stranding him in the wilds.”

Takeru pursed his lips with a low growl. Ren stomped over and kicked his brother in the shin. He yelped and jumped away, but Ren held his ground, arms crossed and jaw clenched. “Stop being such a butthead and be nice for once instead of just bossy.” He put his nose in the air. “You can say it was my birthday present, since you forgot a real one.”

Takeru gasped, then flashed shocked eyes to Daichi. “What did you do to him?”

“I listened to him,” Daichi snapped. “Try it sometime.” He looked to Tooru, who was drumming his nails on the table, gaze unfocused as he thought. “Well?”

Tooru flipped his hair from his eyes. “I’d like to meet him first and see if he’s as harmless as you say.” Daichi jerked his head in a nod. “But as long as murder is off the table…” He trailed off, staring Takeru down, who grimaced and looked away.

“Just – make sure you’re not seen. I don’t want it getting out that I just let a firebender go,” he spat out.

Daichi could think of a lot of words to respond to that with, but he had already said his piece. He stood straight, nodding at Ren, then Tooru. “Let’s go.”

The rag bundle of Tadashi was right where they left him despite the open door. Tooru’s face and thoughts were lost in the moonlight, but Daichi didn’t care as he knelt in his previous spot. “Tadashi?” The rags jerked. “This is Tooru,” he said, pointing over his shoulder. “We’re here to get you out of here.”

Tadashi brushed some hair away to look at him, at Tooru behind him. “Not a joke?” he rasped. Daichi shook his head and held out his hands.

“Can you walk?” he asked as Tadashi put his frozen fingers in Daichi’s and let him get pulled to his feet, knees wobbling. Tadashi licked cracked, bleeding lips.

“I- I’m not sure.”

Daichi tilted his head. “Then- may I?” Tadashi nodded, a slow shift of his hair. Daichi scooped him up – he was taller than Daichi, but it was all skin and bones. His blood started boiling all over again. He turned on a round-eyed Tooru, who stepped aside without a word to let them pass, mindful of the sheer drop a few feet away.

Irihata waited at the top of the basement stairs with a fidgeting Ren. The captain’s eyes widened at Tadashi’s appearance, but Ren bounded down a few steps to meet them.

“Wow, you look even worse in real light!” Tooru frowned, but Tadashi wheezed in his unhealthy laugh.

“Thanks, Ren. Appreciate it.” Ren chattered at him as he led them through the barren halls to a back door that let out into a dark alley. Tadashi responded in his quiet but amused gasp, the other adults trying not to show their distress in front of the child. His thin body shivered constantly in Daichi’s arms, hissing with every step, using his whispered conversation to try and cover it up as Daichi’s stomach twisted.

When Ren opened the door to let them out into the rain, gentler for the moment, Daichi paused at the edge of the light from the house. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Ren,” he said while Tooru tapped his toes in the dark. “It was real sweet of you.”

Ren smiled, fiddling with the doorknob. “It was nothin’.” He bit his lip, then dashed forward and pressed something into Tadashi’s dangling hand – the whittled dog-fox. “Don’t forget about me, ‘kay?”

Tadashi sighed, fingers closing around the wood. “I don’t see how I could.” He ruffled Ren’s curly topknot with a weak hand before the kid ducked away, giggling. “Watch yourself, pipsqueak.” Ren smiled and nodded, then ran back in the house, the click of the lock leaving them in the dark.

Chapter Text

Hajime was waiting for them at the mouth of the alley. After a flurry of heated whispers, Irihata and Tooru went to make a public arrival back at the inn while Hajime led Daichi and his charge through the shadows to sneak over the inn’s garden wall. Daichi was too used to Hajime’s convenient presence to question his appearance and merely tucked his coat tighter around Tadashi.

Their way took longer than Tooru’s. Their leaders weren’t around when Hajime ghosted through a back staircase up to their floor, but when they got to Daichi and Ryuu’s room, a platter of simple, unthreatening food was waiting, along with a bathtub steaming behind a screen on the hearth. Hajime left them (Daichi never heard him go), and Daichi set Tadashi down in a chair by the fire, gently.

“Okay, what do you want first?” he asked, rubbing down Tadashi’s still-frozen forearms. “Water, food, or bath?”

Tadashi coughed. “Yes?” Daichi snorted – at least they hadn’t beat the humor out of him. He went over to the food and poured them both some water from the pitcher waiting. He gave Tadashi a cup and pulled up a footrest to sit on, bracing on his knees to wait. Tadashi drank in little sips – pacing himself. Like he had been here before. Daichi drained his own cup and set it on the table by Tadashi’s armchair, the sound making him flinch.

“Sorry,” Daichi mumbled, shattering the fire-crackled silence. Tadashi shook his head. Daichi cleared his throat. “Do you have any questions for me, or would you rather wait until later?”

Tadashi turned the cup around in his hands – empty. Daichi got up to bring the pitcher over as well as the food – some bread, a cup of juk, a bowl of apples. Daichi took an apple and held it with his teeth, setting the tray on the side table to let Tadashi feed himself as he refilled their water. Tadashi tore off a heel from the bread, skinny wrists shaking. “Ren said your name was Daichi?” Daichi nodded, swallowing his apple bite.

“Daichi Sawamura, in full. Don’t worry, I’m not special, I was just in the right place at the right time.” He jerked his chin at the door. “Tooru, the other one you met, is leading a merchant caravan to the North Pole. The older guy was Captain Irihata, head of the caravan guards. You’ll meet everyone else later, I’m sure.” Tadashi’s hair nodded as he tore off more bread. “I’m just hitching along for fun.” He smiled. Tadashi’s visible eye narrowed, then lowered to stare at his hands in his lap.

“Why?”

Daichi frowned, eating half of his apple before answering, “Because if I left you there I never would be able to live with myself.” He waited until Tadashi looked up again to add, “No one deserves to be treated like that.”

Tadashi bit his lip. “Even a firebender?”

“Even the Fire Lord.” He smiled again and stood, tossing his apple core in the fire. “I’m gonna track down some clothes that might fit you,” he said, wiping his hands on his nice pants. “You should get in the bath before the water’s cold.”

Tadashi grinned, the first time Daichi had seen his yellow teeth. “I don’t really have to worry about that.”

Daichi blinked, then laughed. “I guess there are some perks, huh?” Tadashi chuckled with only a little cough. Daichi ducked out to see if one of the younger guards was awake and around to steal clothes from.

No one answered when he knocked his way down the hall, the cause evident when he ran into the returning prowlers coming up the stairs in their bubble of tipsy noise. Ryuu was the loudest- oh, damn, Ryuu.

Ryuu saw him a few seconds after the panic set in and beamed, clapping his arm. “Bossman! Back already from the fancy party? You bring me anything?”

“Uh. Sort of.” He fell into step back upstairs with them and caught the eye of one of the kid waterbenders, who was usually the last one standing on nights like this. “Akira, do you have an extra set of clothes I could steal?” he asked, low enough that it wasn’t broadcasted to the group. “I’ll see they get back to you.”

Akira raised one eyebrow at him, but was a gracious person and didn’t ask why. “Sure, I guess.”

“Wonderful. Just drop them by my room when you can.” He clapped Akira on the back and hurried to intercept Ryuu before he could get to their room-

Too late. Ryuu froze in the open door, his sudden silence drawing the eyes of the group. “Daichi-”

Daichi shoved him in and slammed the door behind them as Tadashi drew back in the chair, that same defensive position from the cell below. Ryuu kept staring, the clinging drunkenness not helping his mental processes. “What the hell is that.”

“It’s a person. His name is Tadashi.”

Ryuu gaped, this hissed, “I asked you to bring me back a pastry, not a person!”

“Beggers can’t be choosers, Ryuu.” He stepped in to whisper, “I’ll tell you the full thing later, but he’s been through a lot, so be gentle, okay?”

Ryuu grinned. “Aw, Dai, when am I anything but?” He strode across the room to plant in front of Tadashi, pushing his hair away so he could see the face underneath. “Aw, you’re a cute little thing – hell, you reek, though!” Tadashi’s mouth twitched, but Ryuu held up a matted clump of hair, nose wrinkling. “Ugh, what happened to this? First thing to go, dude.”

Tadashi licked his lips. “I’m not shaving my head,” he rasped out.

Ryuu threw his head back and laughed, hands on his hips. “C’mon, it ain’t that bad!” They went back and forth about hair as Ryuu got Tadashi to his feet and behind the bath screen, water splashing as Ryuu went to hunt for a knife. A knock tapped at the door behind Daichi – Akira was there, folded plainsclothes in a pile under curious blue eyes. Daichi gave him his best smile.

“Tell everyone I’ll explain later, okay? Or ask Tooru, if they want.” Akira pursed his lips, but just nodded and left, leaving them to their new charge.

Ryuu and Daichi woke up at dawn for drill, sneaking around a snoring but clean Tadashi. His hair was now tangle-free and ear-length, splayed on the pillow of the bed Ryuu had put him on while he took the spare futon. He had rolled with Tadashi’s presence without too many questions in his tipsy midnight good mood, but a slightly-hungover morning Ryuu kept looking to Daichi for silent answers.

When they were dressed, they stepped out in the hallway, pausing with heads bent together as Ryuu gave his best ‘what the hell?’ look. Daichi floundered for an entry point into the story. “Well- See, the Nakashimas – well, Tooru told me-” He sighed. “The Nakashimas were going to make Tooru kill the kid as payment for the bridge crossing.” Ryuu jerked back, and Daichi added on, “Well, not like stab him in front of witnesses, but take him with us and leave him in the middle of nowhere to die.” Daichi scratched his head. “Something about it being illegal to execute a minor, and too many people knowing he was in their custody, or something.”

Ryuu’s face contorted much like Daichi’s had when Tooru had laid it out before. “That little runt? Why?”

Daichi glanced down the hallway – still empty – and leant in closer to mumble, “He’s a firebender.”

Ryuu started again, eyes wide. “No shit?” Daichi nodded. Ryuu put his hands on his hips and snorted. “Well then!”

Daichi gestured for Ryuu to keep it down. “Anyway, I- convinced them to let him go with me in exchange for taking him with us like a normal kid instead of a prisoner.”

Ryuu blinked, then grinned. “Did you go bossman-mode on them?” he drawled. Daichi looked away, and Ryuu barked a laugh. “Aw, I can’t believe I missed that!” They started walking to the stairs. “Well, he seems like a good kid, so I’ll let it slide,” he said with a shrug. “Probably wouldn’t tell the others, though, at least not at first. They’ve got more beef with the fire boys than me.” Daichi nodded. “But we’ll need to get Yahaba up there after drill,” he added, hopping down the stairs. “That boy’s sick as a rabbit-dog.”

Daichi winced. “Good idea.” He tilted his head at Ryuu’s profile. “You’re not mad I brought home a mystery firebender?”

Ryuu swished it around as they ducked through the quiet inn to their drill courtyard. “It’s hard to be when the kid’s so cute,” he admitted, then smiled at Daichi as he held the door open for him. “But don’t make a habit of it, ‘kay?” Daichi laughed and went outside.

It was a simple matter to corner Shigeru after drill – Daichi didn’t miss the relief in Ken’s hassled one eye as Daichi dragged him off to a new patient to fuss over. Once he had blown himself out over Tadashi’s condition (terrible) and set to work while a yawning Tadashi watched, Daichi slipped out of the room. Tadashi needed unborrowed clothes and shoes, and something told Daichi they weren’t going to have much time left to kill in Wakunan South.

When he got back from his errand running, the yard was bustling with Seijoh reassembling itself under dusty brown scrutiny. Daichi ran inside, dancing around guards and drivers and normal inn patrons, almost running into Irihata at the door. The captain apologized, then double-took and grabbed Daichi’s elbow, pulling him out of the line of traffic.

“How is he?” he rumbled.

Daichi shrugged. “I’m about to find out.”

Irihata nodded. “Stay up there until we’re ready to leave – I’ll send someone for you.” He flicked his eyes at the courtyard. “I’d rather give them as little time as possible to stir up trouble.” Daichi nodded, and they parted ways to their own business.

Shigeru looked about ready to pop when Daichi burst in, grumbling to himself as he ground up some bitter-smelling herbs to a paste in his travel mortar. Tadashi was still on the bed, Shigeru’s glare tying him down. They both snapped to when the door opened, Shigeru’s jaw set, Tadashi’s eyes pleading. Daichi tried not to laugh and told Shigeru, “Everyone’s packing up to leave.”

Shigeru threw his hands in the air, pestle clinking. “I’m about done with y’all throwing sick strays at me and making me keep them alive on the road!” he yelled. “First Ken, now this? Is everyone here crazy but me?”

Daichi bit his cheek. “You got Ken up and running just fine, and you’ll do the same with Tadashi, no matter how much you whine.” Shigeru’s nostrils flared, but he thumped his mortar down at Tadashi’s elbow without more whining.

“Put this on your cuts,” he snapped at his new patient. “I’ll reapply it when we stop at whatever rotten spit of land we call a camp tonight.” He curled his lip at Daichi as he breezed past to the door. Tadashi pushed up to his elbows, wide eyes watching his exit.

“He’s a bit… much.”

Daichi chuckled. “Yeah, but he knows what he’s doing.” He tossed the new clothes on his covered lap and started throwing things back in his bag – Ryuu’s stuff was already gone. “Need any help?” he asked with a vague gesture at the items scattered about his sickbed. Tadashi made a little dissenting noise as he started to apply the balm as ordered. Daichi smiled and went to track down his toothbrush.

Hajime was the one sent to fetch them a quarter hour later. With his usual quiet feet, he led them out a different back door than their entrance the night before, moving slow enough that Tadashi’s atrophied muscles could keep up. (Daichi had offered to carry him again, but he had refused with a stubborn swing of his shorn hair.) At least Hajime didn’t make them climb over the garden wall this time.

“Why can’t we just go through the front door like normal people?” Daichi asked, half-joking. Hajime shot him a strange look, then turned away with a shrug as he held the gate open for them.

“There are some of the Nakashima guards making sure we clean up as we leave in the yard,” he explained. “We just want to do preventative damage control so they don’t tear the kid up.”

“That would be unpleasant,” Tadashi mumbled as he hobbled through to the back alley. Hajime’s eyes flicked to him, mouth twitching. He smiled at Daichi behind Tadashi’s back, then led the way past the service entrance to the main road.

They shadowed the caravan through the sidewalk crowd, Tadashi clutching Daichi’s elbow, shrinking behind him from all the people. The bath and haircut had shaped a new creature from the wild clay lump Daichi had dug out of that cell, but a new outside didn’t make a new inside. Daichi patted the fingers strangling his wrist and smiled. Tadashi smiled back, a little curve, but enough to morph his skinny face into something new. This kid needed to be fed.

Hajime waited until the Oikawa train had to halt for some pedestrians, then slid between the ostrich-horse ranks to the Sugawara wagon. Ryuu jumped at their materialization, but helped Tadashi onto the bench without question – briefed before they left – and nodded at Daichi as he hopped up behind. Tadashi got sandwiched between them, arms crossed and knees curled in. Ryuu fluffed his hair. “Lighten up, little man! We ain’t got nothin’ to worry about, it’s a nice day and we’re getting outta here!”

Tadashi squinted at him, hand over his eyes. “It’s just so… bright, out here.”

Ryuu laughed, then took off his eternal straw sunhat and smushed it on Tadashi’s head. “Well, that’s an easy fix.” He draped an arm around Tadashi’s shoulders, yanking him in close and ignoring Daichi’s sour look. “We gonna have a good time, you, me, the bossman, and the open road!” Tadashi’s shoulders hunched up as he pulled the sides of the hat down, but not before Daichi caught the tiny grin underneath. The caravan rumbled into motion again; Daichi took the reins off their knot and flicked the ostrich-horses into action.

The day passed, the road a little bumpier on this side of the river, winding through late spring woods along tributaries and foothill rapids, only the occasional carriage passing by for company. The breeze carried the scent of broken leaves and new earth through Daichi’s hair, ruffling the collar of the shirt Tooru had insisted he keep and lifting the brim of Tadashi’s borrowed hat. Ryuu’s unbroken chatter harmonized with the in-and-out water babbling, occasionally marred by a waterbender twisting it apart to nudge a lodged branch free or catch a fish for their future dinner, kept in a pot in the supply wagon. The simple weather and harmless talk eased Tadashi into comfort, enough that he unfurled from his characteristic fetal position and started to chatter back at Ryuu.

The roving guards did their usual pauses to talk through the day, natural interest at their newest companion to the north prompting them to question, but they didn’t pry. Daichi overheard some of the drivers gossip at lunch about travelers past who had borrowed the safety of Seijoh’s numbers on the way through the wilder parts of the kingdom. Unlike Hajime or Ken, Tadashi wasn’t someone imposing on their careful ranks, just a skinny kid with a surprisingly charming smile and a wit growing quicker with each hour in the fresh air and sunlight. After Ryuu told him to say he was hitching a ride and nothing more, they passed by without suspicion. Shigeru didn’t quite believe his injuries were from a fall down the stairs, but then again, stranger distrust was his natural state, so it was easy to brush him off with a laugh.

Daichi’s first shiver in the twilight chill heralded the stop for camp at a beaten earth pulloff looking out over a bend in the current stream, not quite a river. Seijoh spun into action, circling the wagons for a camp perimeter while benders pulled up water and earth for supplies and extra fortification. Daichi and Tadashi stood in the eye of the whirlwind, unsure of where they fit into this intricate dance, Tadashi clutching his elbow again. Ryuu was busy arguing with Shinji about who would get the tent spot closest to the worn firepit as they unloaded the dozen four-person tents from the supply wagon. Daichi was about to help when Tooru caught his eye across the camp and nodded at a break in the wagons and the quiet trees beyond. Daichi guided Tadashi through the milling caravan as Tooru called out a few pleasant orders and melted away – Daichi didn't see him leave at all. Apparently he was taking lessons from Hajime.

The noise fell away as they ducked behind the wagons and a layer into the undergrowth, Tadashi’s fingers digging hard enough into Daichi’s arm to make him wince. “You got a good grip there,” he murmured, and Tadashi jerked away.

“Sorry! Sorry.” Daichi grinned and flipped the hat brim up so he could see Tadashi’s sunken eyes and bit lip.

“What’re you so scared for? You really think I’ll let anything happen to you now?” Tadashi looked down at him – when he actually stood up straight, he was a good two inches taller than Daichi. His mouth quirked in a smile.

“Okay!” Tooru’s chipper tone threw Tadashi back to the present, eyes rabbit-weasel wide. Tooru’s clasped hands opened up, a gesture of peace as he held Tadashi’s gaze. Tadashi gulped. “Now that that unpleasantness is behind us.” He sat down on a lichen-covered rock and gestured for Tadashi to take a seat on a stump next to him. He complied, perching on the very edge, tensed to run. Daichi leant back on a tree trunk, crossing his arms. Leaves shook above; he glanced up to find Hajime sitting on a branch, half obscured by foliage, feet dangling. He winked at Daichi and held a finger to his lips, dappled sunset light spotting over his skin. “Time to get real introductions out there. I’m Tooru Oikawa, but you can call me whatever you want. And you’re Tadashi…”

Tadashi coughed – hacked. “Yamaguchi,” he choked out when it wore itself out. “It’s Tadashi Yamaguchi.”

“Okay. Yamaguchi.” Tooru braced his hands on his knees. “Let’s get a few things straight, Yamaguchi. I’m not your captor, and I'm not your jailor. You’re free to come and go as you please.” Tadashi tilted his head up from where it was tucked to his chest. “That you’re a firebender, well, that’s unfortunate, but you have a good Earth Kingdom name, and you don’t smell like a spy.”

Tadashi shook his head. “I’ve never stepped foot in the Fire Nation in my life,” he mumbled. “Never even met another firebender before.” Curious hunger blazed in Tooru’s eyes, but he kept his mouth shut. Tadashi continued, “I guess I’m just… homeless.” He took the hat off and hung it off a bony knee, picking at a fraying edge. “Only ever had Ma, but she’s gone now.” He swallowed. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to get a lot farther away from that place before you kick me out.”

“I have no intentions of kicking you out, Yamaguchi,” Tooru assured him, tone low. Tadashi’s mouth twitched. Tooru sighed and sat back, stretching his arms over his head. “If you stay too long, though, you’ll have to work to earn your keep.” He grinned. “Everyone works out here.” Tadashi blinked, then nodded. “As for your bending status.” Tadashi hissed in a breath as Tooru stood up in stiff stages. “That’s up to you to decide what you want to tell my boys or what you don’t.” He shot a look at Daichi. “I assume Tanaka knows?” Daichi nodded. “Good. With the three of us-” He gestured to the overhead Hajime at the ‘three’, making Daichi grin and Tadashi squeak when he finally saw him up there- “Mr. Nobu, and the hothead, that’s everyone that needs to know." He shrugged – rolled his shoulders back with a grimace. “Why does riding all day still make me so sore?” He pulled an arm across his chest. “Well, none of us are the kind to spill someone else’s secret, even Tanaka, so you’re in the clear there.” Tadashi jerked to his feet. Tooru smiled at him as he switched arms. “Now, go on, I’m sure Yahaba is frantic to fix you.” Tadashi hiccupped on his laugh, then glanced at Daichi, who nodded. He limped off, not quite a run, but at least he could move on his own. Daichi hung back with Tooru, watching him go.

“You gonna yell at me for dragging a firebender to your party?” Daichi asked when he was out of sight. Tooru sighed.

“No, no, you did the right thing, even if your methods were a little – irregular.” Tooru flashed a grin at him before bending over and planting his hands flat on the ground, continuing his stretches. “How’d you get that demon Nakashima child to like you, anyway?”

Daichi shrugged. “Kids are all the same. Just treat them like an adult and they’ll love you forever.”

Tooru swung back up, frowning at Daichi, face pink. “Really? That’s it?”

Daichi opened a hand. “That’s been my experience, at least.” Tooru huffed. Daichi shoved off the tree and waved at Hajime, his heels swinging from the branch as he tried not to laugh, then clapped Tooru on the shoulder. “It’s a wonder the Sugawaras like you at all!” Tooru gaped at him as Hajime snickered overhead. Daichi left them, Hajime thumping down to poke more fun at Tooru’s expense, their bickering fading under the deluge of camp noise.

Daichi found Tadashi and Ryuu around one of the three long-established firepits in the communal campsite, Ryuu squabbling with Shinji and Shigeru over a spitting pile of green wood. Daichi sat down next to Tadashi on one of the flat rocks around the firepit, stretching his legs out and propping back on his hands. “What’re they whining about now?” he asked.

Tadashi shrugged. “Can’t light the fire, wood’s too wet. Guess it rained here this morning.” His exposed wounds were covered in the same green paste as that morning, his hair pulled back from a slice of a scab on his temple with one of Shigeru’s hair ties. He hid a smile behind his drawn-up knees, watching the friendly argument with narrowed eyes. Daichi knocked his dirty feet together, biding his time to see if they would sort it out before he had to step in. After a minute of circling talk, Tadashi huffed. “Oh, honestly,” he mumbled into his knees. Before Daichi could tell him it was a terrible idea, he opened a hand, a line of sparks shooting out to the cotton tinder under the stacked wood. It flared up, just barely, like an idle wind had kicked it to life. Ryuu spun at the crackle and crowed, fists in the air. Daichi’s shoulders tensed, stomach washing cold, but Tadashi had bent in the blind spot of his body to the others, so maybe…

Shinji stared in confusion at the fire (he had been trying to get Shigeru to try and bend the water out of the wood), but Ryuu’s ecstatic revelry distracted him from figuring out the source. Shigeru was miffed, but he was always miffed. Tadashi exhaled, then caught Daichi’s glare and hunched up, burying his face in his knees, mumbling, “Oh, bullfrogs.”

Chapter Text

“Tadashi!”

“Sorry. Sorry!”

Daichi sighed and rubbed his temples, glaring down into the boiling pot that had just been lukewarm. A week had slipped by like this, meandering through the woods, plodding travel broken by minor events – a few villages, petty squabbles, Ken and Shigeru adopting an injured flying squirrel they found on the side of the road. Tooru and Hajime were also getting handsier with each day, and without the buffer of others on the road and inn walls, the Seijoh guards were starting to notice what Daichi already knew – that Tooru’s favorite seat was next to Hajime by the night’s fire, talking low and sliding closer than the already cramped quarters required, and that Hajime only really laughed when Tooru was around. Daichi didn’t add his thoughts to that fireside gossip, privately grateful for the distraction from his bigger problem.

Tadashi’s shoulders hunched in, flinching away from Daichi even though he knew Daichi wouldn’t hit him. Not that he hadn’t been tempted. A few days’ travel had taught Daichi that Tadashi wasn’t unlucky to have been caught firebending back in Wakunan South, he was lucky that was the first time. He had no self-control when it came to using his bending – not in giant fireballs or explosions, but in useful, domestic ways, like reheating a cold lunch or boiling the teawater in the morning while the rest of the camp was busy with drill. He sipped his steaming tea, avoiding Daichi’s glare, and slid over to Ryuu’s side to help pack up their tent and gear.

Daichi sighed and poured himself a cup, too, rolling his head around to stretch his stiff neck. The loss of inn living meant an addition to dawn drill – actual bending. He knew the fighting forms now after almost a month of instruction, but it hurt so much more to use them as intended. A cold, wet hand cupped his neck, the soreness ebbing away. He smiled at Shigeru beside him. “Thanks.”

Shigeru grinned. “It was hurting me, watching you walk around like an old man with bad knees.” He dropped his hand, water spinning back into the skin at his hip. His hair was still wet from the waterbenders’ own bending drill, usual curly bounce weighed down over his blue eyes. “You’ll get over it.”

“I hope so. It’s not fun to hurt all the time.” Shigeru giggled, flipping his hair from his eyes and flinging water drops across the half-disassembled camp. Daichi drained his tea and handed the cup over for Shigeru to clean and use himself.

“Well, you know who to come to for pain relief,” Shigeru joked, bending tea from the pot into the cup before taking it from Daichi, fingers brushing. “At least we might get an actual bath later instead of a scrub-down in a muddy creek.” At Daichi’s arched brow, he explained, “There’s a real town tonight. Amemaru’s built on a hot springs, so they might actually have enough water in this drought for us all.”

Daichi blinked. “Drought?” He looked around at the trees, feet digging into the dirt. He had noticed the undergrowth thinning out as they got further from the Green River, but with the waterbenders keeping their drinking and cooking water refreshed, the dry crackle overhead and the parched earth underfoot had escaped his attention. “Ah.”

“Yep.” Shigeru bent the leftover water out of his hair and into his bending pouch. “It’s been dry in this area for a year or two now.” He smirked. “Me and the two troublemakers are very popular around here.” The ‘troublemakers’, Yuutarou and Akira, were currently rehitching ostrich-horses to a wagon under Hajime’s steady eye and occasional hand when one of the animals tried to bite Yuutarou’s puff of a ponytail. “The old farts, too, I guess,” he said with a flap of a hand towards two of the four waterbending drivers packing up last night’s stew for later. One of them heard that and made a rude gesture at him with a grin, which Shigeru responded to in kind before continuing, “We may have to refresh a few aquifers along the way, but we get treated well in exchange.”

Daichi hummed. “I’m sure they’re grateful for the help.” Shigeru shrugged, hair tie in his teeth as he pulled the longest parts of his hair back into a tail. “Want some help with that?” he asked, nodding at Shigeru’s hands. Shigeru blinked, tie falling from his mouth. Daichi picked it up and slid behind Shigeru, tugging his hair (not quite as soft as Suga’s a month ago) into a tail and tying it off, Shigeru’s shoulders tight. He was right around Daichi’s height, so he had to rise on his toes a little to see the top of his head. “Well, I’m looking forward to it,” he said with a laugh, trying to ignore Shigeru’s sudden tension. “I like watching you waterbenders in action, it’s still all new to me.”

“Oh?”

Daichi hummed as he stepped away. “It’s very different than earth. It’s… prettier.”

Shigeru smiled over his shoulder. “Normally I’d drown somebody for calling me pretty, but I’ll make an exception this time.”

“Hey bossman!” Issei yelled across the campsite. “Wanna do my hair, too?”

“Oh fuck off, you overgrown cucumber!” Shigeru snapped back, face pink.

Daichi laughed. “Maybe I could get it to actually stay up all day!” Issei, whose slick hair was in its usual topknot already, but only technically, brushed some dangling curls from his eyes as he sneered at Daichi. Shigeru ran away, reappearing next to Ken across camp to bully him into giving their animal charge to Tadashi to hold for the day. (They still hadn’t figured out yet why the towels that were the animal’s nest stayed warm when he held them.) Daichi shrugged it off and packed away the tea kettle, burying the embers in the dry ground with an ankle twist.

Unlike the last few days, Daichi took a break from cooing over the flying squirrel (either Juniper or Comet, depending on which one of his two caretakers you asked) to walk beside the wagon and observe his surroundings. The flora was drier than it should have been at this time of year, although it wasn’t quite dead autumn brown. It was a drought, but it wasn’t crippling, just a hindrance, the occasional streams barely trickling but not mudlines. The air didn’t smell of damp earth like closer to the Green River, but crackled with dry heat and the hanging black storm behind the mountains ahead, visible through the thinning trees.

It was still rumbling when they got to the promised 'real town' before sunset. Amemaru was a walled village, earth and wood stockades twenty feet tall behind a dry gulf that might be a moat in wetter times. The Oikawa name was known to the guards at the gate, even if Tooru was a new face. They did know Irihata, though, as well as the general look of a waterbender, so they were admitted in with a warmer welcome than the walls promised. The leaders siphoned off to talk to the headman while the grunts of the caravan were guided around town by happy faces. They packed the wagons in various stables around town, as there wasn’t a place that had enough room for all dozen, the unofficial tour ending at the famous bathhouse. It was made of much-loved granite and painted screens, locals and visitors wandering the steamy hallways in various states of undress, sometimes green or brown salves spread over their faces. The rotten egg smell that drifted over the whole town originated here, but Daichi found that once he got accustomed to it, it was tolerable and vaguely pleasant.

They were shown to the men’s changing room (the waterbenders given an extra towel) and allowed use of any unoccupied room in the bathhouse. Tomorrow, the waterbenders would pay their fee for the service, but until then, they got to relax. Even fidgety Tadashi was at ease in the humid, tall-ceilinged hallways.

They divided into little groups of their own accord as they changed from their gross travel clothes to the plush, towel-like robes provided by the bathhouse. A friendly attendant bore away the stinking heap of uniforms to be washed while they enjoyed themselves, the Sugawara gold and mahogany needles in the Oikawa teal and teak haystack.

Daichi couldn’t stop marveling at the building itself, the delicate carvings worn down by age, the melding of five different kinds of stone into naturally colored patterns, the pipes running under the floor to keep the tiles heated. He drifted out of the changing room and down the hall, lost in the rock makeup, shuffling his feet so they left the ground as little as possible, running a hand along the wall for an extra analysis point. The background noise faded away-

And he was alone, almost naked, in an unfamiliar town and place. Shit.

Daichi had no idea how long he wandered through the maze of the bathhouse. He passed others in the hallway, but he didn’t want to bother anyone for directions – it couldn’t be that big. It had seemed so simple when they were shown around, but now each pretty corridor looked the same as the last. Had he gone up any stairs before? Whatever, he was going down them now. His bending worked well and good for seeing what the earth was made of or if there were large foreign objects underfoot, but he couldn’t see with it, especially not with so much complex machinery running under the surface.

The stairs let out into an open courtyard sunken into the ground. This seemed to be the center of the bathhouse, a multi-tiered pool steaming with that rotten egg smell taking up most of the area. It was sectioned off into different-sized bites, water flowing from ledge to ledge, people of all ages relaxing, talking, and splashing around in the evening sun. Daichi found an empty, visible section at the edge of the main pool to perch on, dipping his feet in the warm water. This seemed like a good enough spot to wait for faces he knew to find him. He wasn’t really sure how he felt about being naked in front of so many strangers, anyway, especially when most of them still had a few important scraps of clothes on.

He was happy to people watch for a while. There was a pool of elderly women at the top of the tiers, hair wrapped in towels, splashing water on the teenagers below and cackling. The teenagers retaliated by lobbing up the sea sponges provided for scrubbing, artillery that blasted the old ladies right back. A couple with young kids struggled to keep all three in sight, a few other families fighting the same battle along the borders, observed by middle-aged men with enough indignity to be topless in the sun. Ladies with mud on their exposed skin baked in lounge chairs on the deck; guys Daichi’s rough age dared each other to dive in. Daichi sat back on his hands, smiling. He never would have guessed back on his farm that there were so many people in this world, that they all had different faces and hands and pasts, but so many of the same concerns.

Someone floated over to his side. “Not gonna get in?”

Daichi looked down at the stranger. He was older than Daichi, but not too much, with strange light-colored hair over a face and upper body licked by red scars of varying size and age. Daichi tried not to stare at them but only had narrowed brown eyes to escape to. “It’s not that bad,” the stranger said.

“Uh.” Daichi rubbed his neck, looking at his knees. “No, I just – well, to be honest, I’m not a great swimmer, and-” He huffed. “I’m just waiting on my- group, to find me.”

“Ah.” The stranger propped his forearms on the textured rock next to Daichi, laying his head on them while his feet kicked out behind him. “First time here?”

Daichi grinned. “Yeah, we just got here maybe an hour or two ago.” The stranger smiled, and this was getting awkward. Daichi ducked his head in a quick nod. “Hi, I’m Daichi.”

The stranger laughed. “Hi, I’m Akiteru, and it’s nice to meet you.” He shoved out of the water – thankfully he was wearing something – and sat on the edge by Daichi. “So, what brings you to Amemaru?”

“Just passing through.” Daichi tightened the robe over his chest. “My group’s on a trade run to the North Pole from Ba Sing Se.”

“No way! I’ve always wanted to see the North Pole.” Akiteru sat back on his hands and marveled at the puffs of cloud in the eggshell blue sky. “I bet it’s cold there,” he whispered.

Daichi didn’t think that was for him, but he tried to answer anyway. “That’s what I’ve heard.” Akiteru shook out the odd moment and smiled at Daichi again, a scar that disrupted his hairline shifting. Where did he get those? “Sorry – do you live here?” Good job, Daichi, great way to ask that. But Akiteru just laughed, head thrown back.

“No, my brother and I are just passing through, too, although we’ve been here a few weeks now.” He traced a scar on his forearm. “We’re – wandering firefighters, I guess. Or whatever’s needed where we are at the moment.” He held up his arm with a twist of his mouth, not quite a grin. “That’s where the scars are from.”

“Oh. Thanks for not making me ask.” Akiteru laughed again, shoulders shaking. Daichi chuckled along. “Do they hurt?”

Akiteru shrugged, still laughing. “More tight than anything.” He sighed, smile on. “The hot springs help.”

“I can see that.” Akiteru raised an eyebrow at him. Daichi looked away to one of the families, ears hot as he backtracked, “I-I mean, I can see how this would help with – things like that-” Daichi clamped his mouth shut, kicking his heels hard against the edge of the pool.

Akiteru didn’t laugh at him this time, bless him, just hummed, feet swinging underwater and sending ripples out, looking around the courtyard. “Isn’t it interesting,” he said, tone light, “how we can bring all the elements together like this to make something beneficial to everyone?”

Daichi looked around at the steam rolling off the heated water, the granite and marble – huh. “Guess I hadn’t thought about it like that.” Multi-element morning drill passed by in his head, and he smiled. “But it works.” He dug his fingers in the tile. “I really want to know how.”

Akiteru lit up. “Oh! I’ve been helping them with the infrastructure of this place while we’re here and it’s super neat!” He hopped into a lecture about the plumbing, and while some of the details flew over Daichi’s head, he paid enough attention to grasp the big picture and ask questions of his own.

They were just getting into where hot springs came from when a familiar ruckus sounded from the stairs behind them. Daichi looked over his shoulder to see who Ryuu’s poor target was this time. Tadashi was trailing behind him, as usual, but the new person Ryuu had in his spider-monkey grip was a scrawny teenager with the same weird hair and fire scars as Akiteru. Akiteru followed his eyes – scowled.

“Ryuu!”

“Kei!”

Daichi raised a surprised eyebrow at Akiteru, who winked. Daichi sighed. “Ryuu, let the poor kid go.”

Ryuu pulled a face behind the kid’s yellow hair. “But bossman, he was being a real wise guy!” Daichi raised his eyebrows higher. Ryuu released his prey and backed off with a huff, crossing his arms over his chest. The kid himself yanked away and stomped up to Akiteru, scowl set off by old scars that ran all over his face.

“I want to leave,” he growled. Akiteru laughed, getting to his feet.

“You’re such a sourpuss, Kei. How are you ever gonna make any friends?” Kei’s face screwed up, but Daichi waved it off.

“Don’t worry, that’s a normal reaction to Ryuu.”

“Hey!”

“Oh, are you saying I’m wrong?” he yelled at the offended tone. Tadashi snickered behind his hand. Kei shot him a sidelong look, eyes narrowing. Ryuu stuck his tongue out at Daichi as he wrestled Tadashi into a headlock.

“I thought you were on my side,” he growled in his ear. Tadashi batted him away, face a blotchy red, but Ryuu just ruffled his hair and shoved him away. Daichi grinned as Tadashi straightened his clothes out – ah. Clothes. Ryuu raised an eyebrow at him. “Yo, where you been at, bossman?”

“Getting lost.” He jerked a thumb at Akiteru. “Then he found me.” Akiteru waved.

Ryuu scanned over him – over Kei next to him. He scowled. “Wise guy, this is your brother? I thought he was gonna be some smarmy smartass, too!”

Kei huffed, but Akiteru just shrugged with a smile. “Oh, he’s not a real smartass, just bad with people.”

Ryuu grunted. “Well, you ain’t wrong about that last part.” He looked to Daichi, business face falling back on. “Yo, Seijoh already left to set up camp outside the wall, you ready to join ‘em?”

“Sure, sure.” Daichi could get a real bath tomorrow, he guessed. He flicked a farewell at Akiteru. “Nice meetin’ y’all.”

Akiteru smiled even as Kei tugged on his arm in the opposite direction of their exit. “Nice meeting you too, Daichi – I’m coming, Kei, hold your ostrich-horses!” Akiteru jabbed at his younger (but not littler) brother as they parted ways. Ryuu was still going on about the ‘smartass’ things said to him in disrespect.

Daichi looked to Tadashi for the truth as they went up the stairs back into the bathhouse proper. Tadashi shrugged. “He was fine until Ryuu started badger-frogging him.”

“Ah.” Daichi bit back his smile as Ryuu jumped the stairs two at a time, yelling at them to pick it up already.

Tooru, Irihata, and the four older waterbenders stayed in the town’s walls for the night, as courtesy to the leaders and to the waterbenders who were so well loved in this part of the world. Hajime, to Daichi’s surprise, came with the rest of Seijoh to the campsite just at the edge of the cleared forest around the walls, face impassive to most but pleasant to Daichi as he directed the younger guards with soft words and steady touches. Daichi was also surprised at the lack of bitterness between the favored waterbenders and their companions, but when he asked Issei about it while they put up a tent together, Issei just shrugged.

“Supply and demand, bossman.” He tied off a support rope to a stake. “You’ll see later when we get to the North Pole, earthbenders are like royalty up there.” He stomped the stake into the ground with his heel. “They’re needed right now, and we’re not.” He winked. “Besides, it’s a better view outside.”

Daichi hummed, looking up at the line of mountains, the black clouds beyond underlit by the sunset into something awful and terrible, but breathtaking. “You’re not wrong about that.” Issei snorted, but Daichi didn’t register it, frowning at the blurred spots between clouds and green mountains where it was storming, lightning flickering but too far away to hear the thunder. “You sure that ain’t gonna get down here?”

Issei followed his eyes, then shook his head. “Storms like that die on their way up the mountains from the west and dry up before they can get over. We should be okay without putting the rain tarps up.” He straightened a wrinkle in canvas as he circled around the tent to slap Daichi’s shoulder. “Scared of a little thunder?”

Daichi snapped a hand out to jab him in the side, stepping out of reach as Issei wheezed (Takahiro cackling from the tent next to them). “I just don’t like the sound of sleeping in the mud, s’all.” He glared at the cloud wall for a little longer, then turned to put it behind him and focus on making sure Tadashi didn’t try to light the cookfire again.

Daichi didn’t know what time it was when commotion outside broke apart his nonsense dreams about swimming in tea fields and gray hair. He blinked awake, rubbing sleep and lingering ginger impressions from his eyes, as he struggled to focus on the sounds – voices. Ryuu on the other side of Tadashi was doing the same; Tadashi, like usual, slept on like a dead person, hugging his pillow. Ryuu kicked at him to wake up even as he and Daichi blinked at each other blankly- wait. Was that smell…

Daichi had never woken up so fast in his life, tumbling out of the tent flap, Ryuu almost on top of him. The stars were out, but the horizon was orange – it couldn’t be dawn already. Since when was dawn in the northwest?

They shoved to their feet, Ryuu with a hand on Daichi’s arm as they looked to the curve of orange. Flickering orange. That smelled like a bonfire. “Shit dumplings,” Ryuu whispered.

“Tanaka! Daichi!” They whipped at their names – Hajime was wrestling with two of the six terrified ostrich-horses that hadn’t fit in the town’s stables, Ken hanging from another one’s bridle. His ratty braid was backlit by the glowing forest, in the same state of mismatched undress as the rest of Seijoh, frantic and panicking. “Get Yamaguchi, we need him now!”

“What is it?” Daichi yelled even when he knew the answer.

“Fire!

Chapter Text

Illustration by Myra/queenoftheantz

Ryuu ducked back inside the tent to wake Tadashi up while Daichi ran to help Hajime with the ostrich-horses, gathering his two’s reins up. His presence calmed them enough for them to stop flapping their useless wings, Peng forcing her head under Daichi’s arm while Yu curled into his neck. Daichi looked through her feathers at the advancing cloud of smoke blocking out the stars, underlit like the mountain’s afternoon thunderstorm. The smell was more astringent out of the tent, sharper, bitter, different than normal bonfire smoke from a harvest festival. It smelled like danger. He looked to Hajime, who was glaring submission into his charges. “What do we do?” he asked – yelled. It was loud out here.

Hajime looked up at him, sweaty hair stuck to his face, eyes glinting in the flashes of firelight. “Keep people safe, however we can.” He jerked his head at one of the two wagons that carried camp supplies. “Start by hitching up.” Daichi gulped, but nodded, dragging Peng and Yu to the nearest cart. Two of the drivers helped him lash them on, not even bothering with bridles before leading them towards the Amemaru gates. The guards on the wall had seen the fire and opened them for the outside campers to retreat into to wait it out, but Daichi’s head was over the shock and wouldn’t stop ticking. It was days to the edge of the drought-ridden area, and who knew how long the fire had been burning. Something had to be done tonight.

Daichi walked with the cart and ostrich-horses back to the gates, where silent onlookers peered through the cracks, dressed in pajamas and robes. As they shoved through the standing crowd to a safer distance, a commotion at the back broke the vigil.

“Let me through!” a voice too nice to be yelling like that called out. Heads and shoulders shoved aside until Akiteru, clothed and breathless, broke through to the empty berth surrounding the spooked animals. His head swung round – double-took on Daichi. “You!” He ducked under Peng’s head to grip Daichi’s arm. “What’s going on out there?”

“Wildfire, kid,” the driver on the cart said, hopping down from the seat and striding over. “Looks like it, anyway.” He gestured at where the line of mountains was in the daylight. “Came down from that there storm in the mountains today.”

Akiteru winced. “Of course it did.” He dug in his pocket and pulled out two tubes of heavy cloth, sliding them up his arms as he tripped over his tongue to rattle out, “Okay, I’m gonna need as many earthbenders as we can muster, the calmest mounts you have, and – Kei-” He glanced around, eyes lighting up when he saw his tall little brother hovering at a distance, like a cat-owl that didn’t want you to know it was following. “Kei! Got the-” The brother hoisted a canvas bag as beat-up and burnt as the brothers. Akiteru snapped the band of his last sleeve-glove thing around a bicep. “Great! Let’s go!”

Daichi frowned, catching him by the elbow as he tried to trot away. “Wait. What?”

Akiteru smiled at him. “Did you think I was kidding about that firefighter thing? There’s a reason we’re in this arm of the forest.” He bounced on his toes, dislodging Daichi’s loose grip. “C’mon, we gotta move fast if we wanna keep this contained!”

Daichi blinked at him as he jogged towards the gate, brother on his heels – blinked at the driver, who nodded. “Go, I’ll put the beasts up and join y’all in a tic.” Daichi set his jaw and ran after them, weaving around the rubberneckers and joined the people who had heard Akiteru’s call to arms and were ready to answer.

Daichi caught up with Akiteru and Kei just as they paused halfway between the wall and the treeline. “What about water?” Daichi asked between pants. Akiteru frowned, surveying the horizon.

“Won’t be enough,” he answered without looking. “It’s too big – any buckets we threw on would just make it worse.”

“We’ve got waterbenders.” Akiteru froze and stared at him. Daichi gestured at the retreating clump of Seijoh, camp all but gone now. “Three out here, a few more inside.”

Akiteru threw back his head and crowed to the smoke clouds. Kei’s lip wrinkled. “Stop that.” Akiteru just laughed and shook both their shoulders hard enough to scramble Daichi’s brain.

“Oh, we got this! Get’em over here!”

Daichi shook his head out, then stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled. The sound carried over the entire clearing around the town, but Ryuu and Hajime were the first ones to jerk at it, their silhouettes taking form as they ran over, Hajime dragging the last ostrich-horse and Ryuu dragging Tadashi. “What’s up, boss?”

Daichi jerked a thumb at Akiteru. “This is Akiteru. He knows what to do. Listen to him.”

Hajime snorted, but Ryuu didn’t question, Tadashi’s head still tucked under his arm. Akiteru rubbed his hands together. “He said you’ve got waterbenders?”

They all nodded. “But it ain’t like they can do much without a water source,” Ryuu pointed out. “And what about the rest of us?”

“Earthbenders need to work on making a trench,” Akiteru said, pitching his voice so it carried over the assembling crowd of Seijoh and townsfolk. “At least ten feet wide, no trees! Contains it first, put it out later!” People split off, grouping together and running towards the approaching fire. “Where are your waterbenders?” he asked in a more reasonable voice.

“Right here,” Hajime growled, yanking Yuutarou from behind the ostrich-horse by the wrist. Yuutarou yelped, but didn’t pull away, Akira following. “But Tanaka’s right, they can’t do much without a source.”

“If the bathhouse was closer, that would work,” Akira said, “but it’s not, and there’s not enough of us to shepherd it along.” They dove into logistics, but Daichi stepped back to think with a frown. That hot springs had to come from somewhere....

He knelt down – his calloused feet weren’t going to cut it this time. He buried his hands to the elbow in the dry dirt, closing his eyes as he reached.

Years of human waste, old tree roots, layers of clay and rock that told the story of the land as well as any great-grandparent surged to meet him, soil compositions flooding his senses. He pushed them aside, searching for the rustle and hum of buried water. It was deep – deeper than he expected – but fifty yards to the west, it was there, a spring that led to the mountains. He stood back up, shaking the dirt off his arms, and went to it, each step pinging it like echolocation.

He stopped directly over it just as someone called out, “Boss?” He held out a hand behind him, then frowned at the ground below. There were some layers of shale between him and the springs, but he had been moving rocks out of the way of crops since he could stand. This was just like that, on a little bit wider scale.

Heavy breathing panted behind him. “What on earth are you doing, Daichi?” Shigeru asked.

“Getting you some water. You might want to stand back.”

“What?”

But Daichi ignored him again, turning to face the line of the stream towards the woods. The fire itself still wasn’t in sight, but the smoke was thickening, the glow stronger. He ground his teeth and took his stance and a deep breath. He stomped his foot with all his power, driving it down. A well-sized hole sank in front of him, down to the first layer of shale. A clench of his fist turned it to dust – another stomp – another clench – and he was through, rotten-egg steam billowing up. He coughed and stepped back, waving a hand in front of his face. “Got your water.”

Shigeru stared at him, slack-jawed. “How’d you know that was down there?”

“Bending.” His eyebrows furrowed. “It’s not that weird?” Hajime landed with a dull thump a few feet away. Daichi looked up – Akiteru was on top of a pillar that had Hajime’s name on it, taller than the trees or the town walls, surveying the fire and calling down directions to the growing group of volunteer firefighters. Hajime jerked his head at the well. “Smart move, bossman.” Daichi’s nose wrinkling had little to do with the sulfur, but Hajime didn’t even crack a grin. Instead, he cracked the hole wider, making a fissure that ran towards the woods with a line of steam as a tail. “Think y’all can use that?” he asked Shigeru, snapping him out of his shock. Shigeru shook his head with a sigh.

“Just when I thought I knew everything you rockheads could do,” he sighed, pivoting on his toes and twisting his arms. Water streamed out of the hole, steam condensing with his cold touch. He made a wall of ice by the trees, adding to it with each spin of his arms. “Hey! Troublemakers!”

Akira and Yuutarou ran to help, building up a standing water reserve aboveground, the flow of it eroding Hajime’s fissure wider. Akiteru peered over the edge of his viewpoint and laughed, sound carrying over the yelling and distant crackling, before calling down, “Great! Can you bring one of them up here so we can use it?”

Hajime and Daichi exchanged a look, and Daichi grinned. “I’m bad with heights.” Hajime rolled his eyes with a tiny smile, then threw Shigeru over his shoulder without warning and jumped up, the earth giving him a lift as Shigeru’s shriek followed them. Daichi watched them go, but the work wasn’t done yet. He ran to the last group of unoccupied people, nonbenders milling about trying to see what to do. Ryuu and Tadashi were there, identified by the clinging yellow head a head above the rest. Ryuu punched his shoulder when he found them. “Good job there, boss!”

“Thanks.” He wiped sweat off his eyebrows. “What’s next?”

“Scout the perimeter,” Kei said, looking out at the woods. “See how far it’s spread, how fast it’s moving.” He frowned up as the ice reserve melted and floated up, Shigeru’s flickering silhouette bending with it on top of the makeshift watchtower. “Hmph.”

Ryuu snorted. “Not a fan of waterbenders?”

“Not enough,” he snapped. Hajime jumped down from the tower again, ground caving under his landing, to meet the party coming out of the gate. “Even a natural downpour could only do so much.”

“There are a few more in town that are probably on their way,” Daichi said, “and we have plenty of earthbenders, between us and the locals.”

Kei lip curled. “I hate working with locals.”

Ryuu cawed and slapped his shoulder. “You just never stop being a pain in the ass, huh?”

Tadashi cleared his throat and stepped between them before a fight could break out. “Well, uh, for what it’s worth, I’m not very good at it, but…” He glanced around, then shielded his upturned hand with the other so a flame could shoot up and snuff out. Ryuu barked out a sharp “Hey!” while Daichi winced, but Kei’s eyes went wide in his scarred face, a strange mix of emotions twisting up his mouth. Tadashi’s shoulders curled in, lip in his teeth as he stared at his feet.

“You. Come with me.” He marched over to his brother’s pedestal, not looking to see if Tadashi would follow. He did, after glancing at Ryuu and Daichi for the okay. Kei snapped at Hajime, who was talking with the newly-armed members of their crew from inside the wall. Hajime raised an eyebrow at him (Tooru surged forward, teeth bared, but Hajime stopped him with a blind hand on his chest). But he shrugged and raised his hands, their thrust down lowering the pillar and its two toppers back into the ground. Shigeru toppled back onto his ass with the sudden movement, but Akiteru kept his footing as his brother snagged his arm and snapped in his ear. Akiteru lit up and scooped Tadashi in a hug that lifted his toes off the ground, his laughter echoing all the way to Daichi and Ryuu.

“Huh.” Ryuu rubbed his chin. “Didn’t expect that.”

“Honestly? I’m not that surprised.” Akiteru put Tadashi down so he could bow at his new waterbenders, lips moving too fast to read. “C’mon,” Daichi sighed, heading over, “Let’s get to work.”

Forest firefighting was nothing like when the neighbor’s barn caught fire from a stray torch a few years back. The focus wasn’t on putting the flames out, but keeping it from spreading, hemming it in like a wild animal and cutting off its exit points. It was hard, dirty work, everyone who could bend a rock or lift a shovel given a task by Akiteru or one of the other leaders that sprung up in the night. For Daichi, the surprise wasn’t how different it was from the barn fire, but how similar the bending was to the furrows he carved every day back at the plantation, just increased in size and scope. He found a few more underground water tables to dig up, where either a waterbender could use it as supply or the trench brigade could divert it to flow through the forest along the barricade line Akiteru drew on charcoal maps from his vantage point.

Daichi was reviewing one of those maps, downing half a waterskin drawn from his latest uncovering, and squinting in the sunlight, when it hit him. Sunlight. He blinked up at his current coworkers – Issei, Yuutarou, and two townspeople. “When did it get to be daytime?”

Issei huffed a laugh, flipping damp hair from his eyes. “Perceptive as always, bossman. Sun rose a while ago.”

“Huh.” He polished off the waterskin as he took stock of his surroundings. There were far enough away from the fire here that they could only smell it, the smoke clouds not covering the sun. The trees were thin here, undergrowth sparse enough that he could make out another group to the northwest. He handed the skin back to Yuutarou for refilling; one look at his wilting ponytail cemented Daichi’s plan. “How about we finish connecting with the guys over there, then head back to Amemaru?” He grinned at the groans and sighs that answered him. “C’mon, the sooner we get over there, the sooner we can eat real food.” Issei smiled at him behind Yuutarou’s slumped shoulders, eyes slits. Daichi smiled back.

The other group, which included Takahiro, joined them on the trek back through the woods, the locals leading the way as they followed their new ravines, bolstering them up as they went. Everyone was gross, sweaty, and covered in dirt and soot, but they joked and laughed the whole way. The fire might still burning, but the danger to their livelihoods was averted and the leftover adrenaline made the relief that much more intense.

The clearing around the town had transformed from the brief human collective of midnight to something like a base camp while they were gone. The town had organized itself into teams much like the ones Daichi had joined and formed through the night and, now, the morning, supply cribs handing out tools in a hodgepodge of collected shovels and saws. The locals split off with rough displays of affection for Daichi and the three Seijoh crew members, joining friends and family as they were seen. They gravitated towards the smell of rice and cabbage to a tent set up almost against the wall, doling out breakfast on picnic tables. Daichi looked around for familiar faces while they stood in line – a group of their drivers and guards had claimed the far corner. Ryuu’s crow call of a laugh was audible even when his bald head was hidden. Daichi accepted the bowl from an elderly lady that looked just as tired and ragged as he felt with a smile before drifting over.

“Hey boss! Mornin’!”

Daichi smiled as the greeting and the nickname was passed around the table, shaking his head. “I ain’t y’alls’s boss,” he said, beating the dead ostrich-horse. He squeezed himself between Ryuu and Hajime, thumping Ryuu over the head on his way. Hajime chuckled, a warm roll in his chest.

“You were bein’ pretty bossy for someone who ain’t a boss,” Takahiro quipped from across the table with a wink. Daichi made a face at him. Issei let out a rare laugh as Takahiro pouted and elbowed him in the gut. Daichi chewed and checked the status of the crew as conversation broke back into its smaller, not-him-focused pockets. Everyone looked like him, sweaty and tired but alive and unmarred. The only ones missing were some of the waterbenders, still at work, and Tooru, who Daichi had seen plotting with a group of locals at least twice his age over a fancier version of Daichi’s charcoal map. Even the captain was here, eating quietly at the far end. Everyone was accounted for, except…

Daichi swallowed and leant into Ryuu’s side. “Where’s Tadashi?”

Ryuu blinked at him. “Shit, I thought he was with you.” Daichi shook his head, Ryuu winced. “Then-”

“The brothers took him,” Hajime offered from Daichi’s other side, eating without looking at them. “Turns out they’re f-” He set his jaw. “Well, same as him.”

“Those two?” Ryuu pulled a dramatic sneer. “The wiseass?”

Hajime nodded, cheeks full. “S’soon ‘s he told ‘em-” He swallowed. “The older one kidnapped him and ran off.” He cut his eyes at Daichi. “Should I go on retrieval duty?”

Daichi frowned. “Akiteru seems nice, but he also seems like he’ll keep going until he drops, and the kid’s stamina is probably a little less than his.” Hajime nodded and shoved the last of his rice in his mouth, leaving without another word or anyone besides them noticing. Ryuu hummed.

“Never met a firebender before in my life,” he said to himself, “and now I’ve met three.”

Daichi chuckled, still leaning on Ryuu’s side. “I thought you promised me this trip would be boring?”

Ryuu grinned, teeth flashing in a dirty face. “You’re a bad man, Daichi. Now get off me, it’s too hot for that.”

“Hey, bossman,” Issei said from across the table. Daichi raised his eyebrows at him. “Been meaning to ask you. How’d you know that water’s underground? Got a divining rod between those thighs a’yours?”

Daichi and Takahiro choked on their food. Ryuu threw his head back and howled, pounding on the table. Issei just smirked and cleaned his teeth with a chopstick. Ryuu slapped Daichi on the back a few times for good measure, rice going down the right pipe as Takahiro struggled on the other side. “No-” He choked more, chugging on his water. “No, I could see it. Bending thing.” He frowned, clearing his throat of the last of the blockage. “Why, can’t you?” The smirk fell from Issei’s face – even Takahiro was scowling at him. Daichi’s brows furrowed. “Like, soil composition, underground obstacles, sinkholes…” He trailed off as they kept looking at him like he was talking some spirit language. “Every bender I know can do it.”

“Well it’s news to me.” Takahiro turned on Issei. “What about you? Ever heard of seeing underground?”

Issei swished some water in his mouth. “Nope.” He slammed his cup down and pointed at Daichi. “But the minute we get a chance, I want you to teach me.”

Takahiro waved. “Over here, too. Sounds interesting.”

Daichi tried not to stare. “Well, uh, okay, if you think it’s worth it.” Issei made a grand gesture at the entire operation. “Look, it’s not that weird! Everyone-”

“Yuu can’t do it,” Ryuu cut him off, his mouth full. “A’ways sayin’ you were be’er a’ tha’ kinda bendin’ ‘an him. ‘etail schtuff.”

Daichi opened his mouth – closed it. “Well. Most everyone. I’m not the only one, at least.” Ryuu grinned at him, cabbage in his teeth. Daichi sighed. “But, sure, I’ll teach you, when we’re done here.” The conversation shifted to the fire efforts, participants ebbing and flowing as the table changed occupants. The meager few hours of sleep last night were starting to take effect on Daichi, but he was still too keyed up to ask about a nap. He poured some tea into his empty water cup from the pot dropped at their table and listened in, content to be a pair of ears for a bit.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder from behind. He looked over it at Hajime hovering behind him, hair in something resembling order now. He jerked his chin at the food line. “Found him.”

Ryuu jumped at his voice with a yelp. “Warn a man next time!” He glowered at Hajime, whose eyes barely narrowed. “Can you move without sneaking around?”

“Next time I’ll wear a bell, just for you.” Daichi bit his tongue as Ryuu sneered and went back to yelling with Shinji, something about food. Hajime laid a loose fist on Daichi’s shoulder and bent down to mumble, “I think he wants to talk to you.”

“Oh?” The poor kid was yawning every other second, asleep where he stood, only the prodding of the person behind him keeping him moving. “Then I better catch him before he faints,” he said, climbing out from the bench. Hajime nodded, melting away to go float at Tooru’s shoulder, probably. Daichi took his dirty bowl and cup with him to the dropoff in the corner, weaving back down the line to literally catch Tadashi as he wobbled. “Whoa there.”

Tadashi blinked at him, then smiled. “Heya, bossman.” He had long ago picked up Ryuu’s unfortunate nickname. “Good night?”

Daichi chuckled and set him right on his feet. “Looks like it was better than yours.”

“No, it was fun! The Tsukkis are great, I learned a lot-” The last word broke in a yawn. Daichi accepted Tadashi’s food from the same lady as before, although this time she smiled back.

He guided Tadashi to an unoccupied table end and sat him down, putting the food in front of him, the scent as good as any smelling salts for waking him up. Tadashi dug in; Daichi sat backwards on the bench, leaning on the table. “The Tsukkis?”

Tadashi nodded. “That’s Kei and Akiteru’s family name – well, Tsukishima, but that’s too much. Akiteru is super nice, and knows a lot, and Kei’s quiet, I guess, but he’s funny.” He paused shoveling food in between sentences, swallowing big. “Don’t be mad.”

Daichi tilted his head. “Why would I be mad?”

Tadashi swirled his bowl up with his chopsticks. “Because Akiteru offered to let me join them on their fire-hunting thing and I wanna go with them.” He looked away from Daichi, at anything that wasn’t him. “They’re real firebenders, Daichi. They aren’t bad, and they can teach me, keep me from messing up all the time.” He clutched his elbows, drawing a knee to his chest and curling in. “I like you, and Ryuu, and everybody else, but we know it’s just a matter of time before I screw up and y’all hafta kick me out, so I want to do something first. For once.” He rubbed his arms, hugging his leg tight. Something peculiar welled up in Daichi’s chest, but Tadashi kept going. “I wanna stop running. I wanna learn what to do with my bending that won’t get me in trouble.” He buried his face in his knee. “I wanna be useful.”

They were quiet for a minute, long enough that Tadashi’s breathing evened. Daichi considered the kid next to him, scarred and skinny, but still pushing, still trying to figure out his place despite so many people casting him aside. He was proud of him.

He cleared his throat, and Tadashi jerked – half-asleep. Daichi smiled when one eye appeared. “Well, I’m gonna miss you.” The one eye blinked. Daichi patted his shoulder and stood. “It’s your life, kid, and I ain’t your jailer. I’m happy for you.” Tadashi beamed, face lighting up, and set into his food again. Daichi wandered off to find Hajime and Tooru, tell them of the updates to the crew roster, and see what he could do to help. He couldn’t let the kid upstage him, after all.

Chapter Text

They spent another two days in Amemaru with the fire relief effort, lending their skills to a grateful populace. It was dirty work, but it was as rewarding as harvest labor. They only left when Tooru almost broke down over how far behind schedule they had gotten. True to his word, Tadashi stayed with the Tsukishima brothers, although Daichi had to pretend not to see the tear when they said goodbye on the dawn of the third day. He also made sure to give Akiteru a summation of Tadashi’s story before he left, so at least someone could help the kid heal.

After the excitement of the fire, the following travel days going deeper into the mountains were hard in a boring way. Tooru was hellbent on making up for lost time, both at Amemaru and at Wakunan South, so they were moving whenever there was light, no matter the tricky weather or road conditions. The drought-stricken forest morphed from oak and chestnut and brambles at the foot into evergreen, a sharp scent Daichi learned was juniper floating on the muggy breeze. Daichi had never seen conifers before, and their dark green needles and pointed silhouettes were just as fascinating as the limestone and granite cliffs sprouting along the road. The views were spectacular, but he could feel the treachery waiting underfoot, scars of rockslides above and below showing past evidence of betrayal. The path up here curved with the flow of the geography, narrowing to a single wagon’s width one mile and wide enough for three the next. A few times they had to scatter their camps along several stops because of size, the only communication between the camps messages tied to the leg of Ken and Shigeru’s healed flying squirrel, now the caravan pet despite no one agreeing on a name.

Spring slipped into early summer without Daichi noticing, but at this elevation, it still felt as cool and crisp as a Ba Sing Se late winter, the sun bright but not hot, pleasant compared to the thick humidity he was used to. Daichi spent as much time admiring the scenery as he did getting to know the people of the caravan, guard and driver alike. The threat from the valleys that they would be stuck together in the mountains was proving true, but there were enough of them to keep him from getting too irritated with any one person. It had taken almost two months, but he was finally comfortable in his skin again.

It was at least a week since Amemaru – Daichi had lost track of the days with no town as a breaker – when they woke up to a downpour, heavy and unrelenting. Tooru made them pack up and move out anyway, but they had barely been slow going for an hour where Irihata convinced (and Hajime bullied) him to change his mind. They found some caves framed by trees as big around as Daichi’s house, and after the earthbenders made them a little roomier, they camped down to wait it out. The waterbenders helped pull the excess rain off the goods and their clothes and hair, but they couldn’t do anything about the lingering damp chill. The flying squirrel flitted between clumps of people around ramshackle fires, chittering for snack scraps.

Ryuu threw himself down at Daichi’s feet while he fed their fire, groaning as he sprawled spread-eagle and draped his hat over his face. Daichi pushed a few stones deeper into the ground under Ryuu’s back so they didn’t dig into his muscles, hiding a smile as his groan lasted two octaves and a full minute. Issei and Takahiro took the other side of their little stick fire in a similar manner, and Daichi did the same favor for them, clenching his fingers to bend the earth around them a little drier and softer, a long-standing habit.

Takahiro sighed and stretched out his long legs over Issei’s lap as Daichi sat down. “Well, at least it’s dry in here.” He sat back on his hands and dug his fingers in the dirt, as giving as mud without the stick. He frowned. “And soft.”

Daichi winced, then raised a hand. “Sorry, that’d be my fault.” He spread his fingers out so the ground firmed up again. Takahiro yelped as his fingers were trapped. “It’s a habit, I guess.”   

Takahiro raised an eyebrow at him as he loosened up the ground again so he could pull his fingers out. “This more of your weird farmhand bending?” Daichi opened a hand.

“Speaking of.” Issei shrugged out of his uniform armor, prompting Takahiro to do the same and set them aside for a backrest. “You never did teach us that seeing underground thing.”

“Oh, guess I didn’t.” They stared at him. “What, now?”

“You see anything better to do?”

Daichi looked around – Ryuu’s chest rose and fell in a napping pattern behind him, hat brim fluttering. Everyone else was either following his lead or having quiet conversations of their own under the blanket of rainfall noise. “Guess you’re right.” He scratched his head. “Been a while since I learned myself, though. Might not be the best teacher.”

“Try me.” Issei winked across the weak fire, one side of his face lit flickering orange, the other washed-out blue. Daichi frowned and looked away.

“So…” He crossed his legs and planted his hands in front of him, frowning at the ground between his spread fingers. “Y’all know there are different kinds of rock, yeah?” Mild assenting grunts answered him. “Well, when you pay attention to them, they all feel different… they sound different. You listen long enough, you can figure out the differences.” He wriggled his fingers down into the dirt. “Like, here, this is mostly shale starting a foot down under the topsoil. These whole mountains are hard rock, not the black loam back home. The forest between the Green River and the foothills was a lot of red clay.” He glanced up – his new students has copied his movements, Takahiro with his tongue in his teeth as he frowned at the dirt. Issei was staring right at him, hooded eyes dark in the weak light. He grinned, a slow spread, and something barreled into Daichi like a wild saber-toothed moose lion. Was Issei… flirting with him? Issei winked again – he was. Had he flirted with Daichi before? How long? Daichi coughed and yanked away, hunching over like a startled Tadashi. Issei chuckled across the way, and Daichi’s stomach clenched. “You feeling anything?” he asked, and that was a wrong, wrong, wrong thing to say.

“Maybe,” Takahiro drawled, blessedly cutting off any innuendo Issei could pull out. “Does it get, like… smoother? Where you said the shale starts?”

“That’s a way to put it.” He squeezed his eyes shut, face burning. “Shale’s – brittle, I guess, so it sort of hums, like it’s moving. Topsoil hums loudest, since it’s so loose, so a lot of times it drowns out the stuff underneath unless you’re paying attention.”

“Yeah, I can see – hear, that.” Takahiro tugged his wristguards off and pushed his sleeves up so he could get in deeper. “What’re all those little pings in it?”

“Smaller rocks. Debris. Tree roots. Anomalies, basically.” Daichi blinked his eyes open, face hurting from holding the squint. Issei is still staring, like a cat-lemur with something to prove, and how did Daichi never notice this before?

“I’m not sure if I get it,” Issei said in his low, raspy voice, scooting around the fire towards Daichi with a predatory smirk. “Maybe you could give me a hand?”

Daichi leant away from his approach, tongue fat in his mouth, heart a bird’s wings in his ribcage, belly rolling. “Uh- well, that’s not- not really how it works?”

Issei waggled his eyebrows – flinched when a rock hit his temple. He scowled at Takahiro, and Takahiro scowled right back, color high under his freckles. “Down, boy. You’re making the bossman uncomfortable.” Takahiro smiled at Daichi, none of the confusing other layers Issei projected. “Can’t take him anywhere.”

Issei’s eyes narrowed at Takahiro, but he sighed and stood, long body unfolding in stages. “Fine, I can tell when I’m not appreciated.” He flicked a salute and another damned wink at Daichi. “Another time, handsome.” Daichi recoiled, and Takahiro snorted, kicking out at Issei’s shin as he passed to find someone else to bother. Or flirt with. Daichi pitched forward to bang his face in the dirt in front of his hands and groaned. Takahiro sighed.

“Join the club, boss.” Daichi groaned again before sitting back up. Takahiro shrugged and rearranged his legs without removing his hands. “Now keep talking, I think I was almost getting it.”

“Ryuu?” Daichi whispered that night in their tent. Ryuu grumbled, half-asleep back to Daichi, who stared at the peak of their tent, the shadows of idle raindrops sliding down the sides. “I think Issei’s been flirting with me,” he said and made it real.

Ryuu rolled over in his sleeping bag to face him, but Daichi didn’t look away from the tent tarp. “No shit?” Daichi bit his tongue. “You just figured that out?”

Daichi frowned. “Hey. I’m new at this.” Ryuu laughed, a sleepy chuckle. Daichi flipped on his stomach, clutching his tiny camp pillow and scowling at the darkness. “I’m serious! I’ve never been flirted with before!” That just made Ryuu laugh harder, cloth rustling on his side of the tent.

“Okay, Dai, I guess imma hafta tell ya somethin’ I thought you knew.” He pushed up to his elbows, silhouette morphing against the moonlight that filtered through the canvas. “You’re, like, really, really good-lookin’.”

Daichi frowned. “Huh?”

Ryuu groaned. “Oh man.” He sighed, long and whistling, collapsing back down flat. “Dai, why’d you think girls let you talk at them ‘bout stuff they don’t care ’bout, or giggle too much ‘round ya? Lemme tell ya, it ain’t ‘cause they took up a sudden interest in agriculture. It’s ‘cause you got that face.”

“Uh…” ‘That face’ was currently on fire, but okay. “Okay?”

“All this time, I thought you just… do you know what flirting looks like?”

“Sure I do,” Daichi snapped back. “But no one flirts with me.”

“Honey, literally everyone flirts with you.” Daichi let out a little choked whimper, but Ryuu ignored it. “Of course, Mattie boy flirts with anything with a pulse, so I guess I see not being able to see the difference there. He’s just that kinda guy.”

Daichi planted his face in his pillow and tried not to scream. When he could keep his voice from wobbling, he popped up and asked, “Does he flirt with you?”

Ryuu made a dismissive sound, hand flopping. “Eh, ship sailed on that one a while ago. We just don’t fit all that well.” He sighed. “He’s a great kisser, though.”

Daichi slapped his hands to his face and moaned, “Ryuu.”

“What? He is!” Daichi couldn’t help laughing, late night crazies making everything hit harder than usual. Ryuu laughed along and said, “Seriously, if y’all get a chance, don’t pass it along, it’ll be fun, an’ he ain’t one to hold a grudge.”

Daichi let out a breath, scratching his scalp. “Anything else I need to know, Mr. Romance?”

“Actually, yeah.” Daichi turned to face him, shadow to shadow. “Y’all may’ve noticed that the Seijoh kids got a lot a’rules ‘bout them,” he said. Daichi nodded, then hummed so Ryuu could tell. “Well, most’a them is shit we don’t give a shit about, but they got a set we do. They don’t allow canoodlin’ in the ranks.”

Daichi swished his mouth. “I can see how that would be a problem.”

Ryuu hummed. “Yeah, but what it means is that, all these buck-colts caught together for long stretches of a time with no way out? It’s a little sticky sometimes.” Again, not a surprise. “An’ since the two a’us, and whoever else is travellin’ our way at the time, we don’t fall into that rule…” He trailed off, hands twirling in the air before they fell back to his sides. “Well, me’n Yuu already ran that gauntlet.” Daichi blinked – oh. “So, don’t get too surprised if you get more’n Matt flirtin’ with ya, a’ight? They’re pretty chill if you turn ‘em down easy, though.”

“Oh.” He gulped, and Ryuu propped up on a hand.

“Would you let ‘em down easy? I mean, I know you ain’t never noticed when people be flirtin’ with you, but… does Matt’s flirtin’ bother you?”

“Well…” He laced his fingers together behind his head, pressing down. “No? I mean, he’s…”

“Hotter’n a summer day?” Daichi huffed. “Just didn’t know if you were into that. Y’know, dudes. Both. Whatever.”

Daichi shrugged. “Isn’t everyone?”

“No, not really.” Ryuu yawned. “You’re a rare thing, bossman.”

“So are you, then.”

Ryuu grunted. “Took me’n Noya a while to get ourselves there, trust me. You ain’t got no problems. Rare thing.”

They were quiet for a while, the night sounds closing in. It would take Daichi more than a midnight heart-to-heart to handle all of this new information, but… “Uh, so, one more question.” Ryuu grumbled without forming words. “Has anyone else here… been flirting with me? Well, enough that I should know?”

“Shigeru Yahaba wants to live in your pants,” he growled. “Now go to sleep.”

Daichi really tried not to show it, but he spent the next few days on edge. Every glancing smile or friendly gesture was now coded as subtle flirting; everyone who took a seat next to him was a potential person to try and make a move. The only safe people were Ryuu, bless him, the adult drivers he knew were in happy, committed relationships, and Tooru and Hajime for the same reason. (Although, sometimes, even the last two made him cough and leave a perfectly civil conversation with a bad excuse.) Ryuu didn’t comment if he noticed any unusual behavior, to which Daichi thanked him mentally every night, but he had a feeling it wasn’t unrecognized by everyone else. He just sucked it up and hoped he would get over it.

Two days after learning too much about himself, they found the first town they had seen since entering the mountains. Well, calling it a ‘town’ was generous, since it was barely more than a trading post tucked along the bank of an icemelt lake in a long valley, but it was enough for a general sigh to hover over the caravan at its sighting and Tooru and Irihata to call a day’s liberty. As the pattern dictated, they swarmed the largest local inn in a benevolent takeover, then the young people ran to see what town there was to paint red while the adults sat back and painted it red a staircase away from bed.

Given Daichi’s latest mood, he tried to stay back with them, but Ryuu and Tooru didn’t give him a choice, teaming up to make him come along. Daichi tried to look to Hajime for an escape route, but his normal partner in suffering just grinned and hooked an arm around his neck to murmur, “Humor them.” Daichi pulled away from the press of his body to hide his red face in a crowd reaction.

There wasn’t much choice of entertainment in this village. Their noses and ears led them to the only promise of people in the one-road town, light and laughter spilling out onto the twilit street from an awning drawn over a rocky strip of lawn. They were greeted with raucous cheers when they stepped into sight – not a town that shunned outsiders. Happy red faces under woven ivy and holly wreaths shoved food and drink at them as they were brought into the party fold. They were celebrating the last of the ice melting from their lake, which was something to celebrate around here. The venue was the other inn in town, barely more than a large house with a backyard that fed into the gravel bank of the lake. All of the ground floor doors were thrown open, guests wandering in and out with their loud northern accents and woodworking hands. The party may be hundreds of miles away from the Sugawara plantation for a reason that would never cross his family’s mind, but Daichi hadn’t felt this at home since crossing the wall.

Curious locals broke up the Seijoh crew to dress them for the occasion and quiz them about their travels and the outside world. Daichi found himself perched on an open windowsill facing the lake, his new ivy-and-holly wreath slipping over his ears, watching the last rays of sunlight fade over the mountains. The punch everyone was drinking was thick and sweet, a deep red color from a fruit he couldn’t place, and nice enough that he could sip it without thought. Ryuu’s words were still heavy on his mind, and the first glass or two sunk them in deeper as he watched the people twist by on either side of his view. The Seijoh crew were nice, and he liked travelling with them, but no one he was learning paid him special attention made him feel anything beyond flustered over it. No one made him want to wrap up in them forever, like he wanted to spend three days just talking to them, field mud between their toes, and find gray hairs on his clothes a week later. Each sip of the punch made that line of thought drift further away, though, and when the first local girl with heavy dark hair came to refill his glass, he asked for her name and let her ask for his. Since these were strangers he wouldn’t see again, he didn’t feel as odd when she slapped his knee with her laugh at a joke she made. He blinked at it, at the warm spot it made, and smiled. She smiled back, freckles stark against her flush, and drew her hand away with an apology only to push the wreath straighter on his head.

He didn’t mean to drink more than a glass or two of the punch. He really didn’t. But someone kept refilling his cup before it was empty, and he drank without thought as he talked, local faces blurring together as the sun set and the light changed to flickering lanterns and a bonfire on the beach. A few from Seijoh checked in on him, but it was nicest to talk to the new faces, learn new personal histories. He got lost in it, the headiness of the punch letting time slip like sand.

At a point in the night, one of the pieces of the icemelt celebration Daichi was learning about was called into session – a group dip in the lake. It was still cold, if not freezing, but Daichi was caught up enough that when the girl he was talking to (a different one than before) dragged him off the sill, he let her do it. It wasn’t until his two feet thumped down on a ground that tilted that he blinked into his dredged cup and said, “I think I’m a little drunk.”

She laughed. “A’course, silly, it’s a party! That’s the point!” She swung their joined hands between them. “It’s not so cold that way, neither.”

He blinked at her a few times, trying to shake the stars out. She had big, tea-brown eyes, lighter hair than normal that curled around her face, and a mole on her right cheek. He reached out and brushed a thumb under her other eye. “Your mole’s on the wrong side.”

She giggled and batted his hand away. “Stop that, you goof. It’s right where it’s meant to be.” She pulled him again, and his fat feet stumbled. He fell into her, but she was stout enough to catch him with just a little staggering. “Aw, you city boys can’t hold your liquor, huh?”

“Ain’t a city boy.” His face was pressed into her neck, and he inhaled. “You smell different, Suga.”

“Aw, sugar, you smell just fine.”

She fought with him down the grass towards the large glitter pile of the lake, her laugh contagious, embedding in his swimming head, until a large hand caught his arm. “And just where you think you’re goin’, bossman?”

He hiccupped and blinked as Issei’s long nose came into focus, curls breaking up the outlines of his sharp cheekbones in the moonlight. “You do somethin’ to your hair?” he said – slurred.

The girl’s laugh vibrated through him. “Aw, we was just goin’ for a lil’ dip, jus’ some fun!”

Issei’s hand gripped his arm tighter. “That’s nice, but my friend here is a soft valley farmhand who’s not so used to your cold. He might go into shock, and I need to get him home in one piece.” He smiled. “Mind if I take him off your hands, beautiful?”

“Well, when you put it so kindly.” She kissed Daichi’s cheek, a hot wet spot, and pushed him off her into Issei’s care. “Be good to him, now!”

“I’ll do my best.” She skipped off to join her friends already in the lake. He watched her go, the flutter of her tunic when she tossed it aside, then looked down at the cup still in his hand. He tipped it back for the last few drops, but Issei took it away, worming an arm around his waist and leading him back to the house. “Let’s get you back to the inn, boss.”

Daichi frowned, returning the waist-hold gesture for balance. “M’not that drunk.”

“Oh yes you are.” He raised a hand to get someone’s attention across the yard. “Yo! Takin’ the bossman back!” A chorus of voices acknowledged him. Daichi waved at some of his new friends as they wove through the crowd, but Issei kept them moving through to the road, noise and light fading away. He knocked his head into Issei’s shoulder, the perfect height for it. “Have a fun night?” Issei asked, voice a raspy rumble. Daichi hummed, focusing on moving one foot in front of the other.

“Y’don’t hafta take me back, y’know,” he said. “Don’ wanna ruin yours.”

“That’s nice of you, but I don’t mind. I never drink much at parties­, anyway.” He bumped his hip into Daichi’s, hitting just above it. “Plus, you’re just as good company as anything back there.”

Daichi scowled at the dirt road under his feet. “Is that a flirting thing again? Are you flirting?”

If Issei was a less graceful person he would have tripped. As it was, he barked a laugh and gripped Daichi tighter. “It is if you want it to be.”

They stumbled a few steps to the side – coarse grass between Daichi’s toes. He swung around and in, harder than he meant, and slammed into Issei’s chest hard enough to force the air out of Issei’s lungs. Daichi used two fingers to poke under Issei’s chin in the soft cavity behind his jaw. Issei stared down at him, hands resting at Daichi’s waist and shoulder. “What if I said yes?” Daichi swallowed on a dry mouth. “What if I did want it to be?”

Issei raised a thick eyebrow. “I’d say you’re a little drunk to be making those decisions.”

Daichi growled. Even though he had decided that he had no interest in any of the caravan romantically, and that was fine, he couldn’t get the thing Ryuu said about Issei being a good kisser out of his head. His hand slid around to cup the side of Issei’s face, thumb pressed to the joint of his jaw. Issei remained immobile, watching Daichi watch him. “Is this a bad idea?” Daichi asked. Issei grinned, his slow cat-canary smile.

“Only if you want it to be.”

Daichi pulled on one of Issei’s slick curls hanging down over his ear, twisted his finger in it. Issei purred, vibrations shooting right through Daichi. He yanked Issei’s head down as he surged up, clashing harder than he meant. Issei chuckled and held his face back, not all the way but enough that their teeth didn’t clack and their noses didn’t bump, tilting Daichi’s head and slotting their mouths together.

Daichi clung to his neck as Issei walked him backwards a few steps to slam him up against something hard and sticky – a pine tree. Daichi gasped, and Issei licked into his open mouth, rolling his thumbs into Daichi’s temples to keep his jaw open and make his head keep spinning. This was different than the migrant worker’s daughter cornering him behind the barn for midwinter luck – this was six inches taller than him and a tongue in his mouth, hard muscle and a long thigh between his. He groaned and snagged his hands in Issei’s hair – he had done something different with it, a ponytail at the nape of his neck instead of the usual banded topknot. Daichi twisted his fingers in the tie and slipped it off, sliding it on his own arm so he could bury his hands in it up to the wrist. Issei did his purring thing again and pressed closer just as Daichi arched up, points of contact long stripes of wildfire without the acrid stench.

Daichi broke away to breathe, head knocking on rough bark, sap getting in his hair. Issei chuckled and mouthed down the line of his jaw to his neck, nothing hard enough to be called a kiss. Daichi sucked in a breath and let it out with a whispered, “Ryuu was right.” Issei hummed, lilting up in a nonverbal question. Daichi shook his head – mistake. He groaned for a different reason than the arch of Issei’s nose sliding up behind his ear, and Issei laughed, breath dusting down Daichi’s collarbone so he shivered.

“Okay, you’re done.” Daichi tried to keep him close, but a sober Issei was more powerful than a drunk him. Issei stood straight, reaching behind his head to untangle Daichi’s fingers from his hair. “C’mon, let’s get some water in you and get you to bed.” Daichi frowned at him, but Issei stepped away, leading him by the wrists to the road. The ends of his loose hair caught in the breeze, distracting Daichi with their idle lifts and twirls so he followed Issei’s lead without fighting. Once they were on the road again, Issei let go of his wrists to guide him with a hand on his back, bending in to murmur, “If you remember this tomorrow, we’ll talk then.”

Daichi huffed, then hiccupped, breath foul in the back of his throat. Issei chuckled.

The day’s liberty also meant a respite from morning drill, so Daichi woke up naturally with an earthquake headache and a peasant uprising in his stomach. He buried his face in the inn pillow as he struggled to think past the hangover pain to something, anything else. Flashes of last night’s party flickered through like firelight: happy faces, holly and ivy, shadows of evergreen on cold water, the color of that damned punch, a warm hand on his back – pine sap in his hair –

He stiffened, fingers curling in the cheap cotton sheet as waves of lots of temperatures crashed over him. Shit. He sure had done… that. He snarled his hands in the shaggy (sticky) hair on the back of his head and groaned.

He didn’t know how long it was before his body started to like him enough that he could sit up and scowl at the water glass set on the windowsill by his bed. He didn’t want to know if it was Ryuu’s doing or. Someone else’s. He just drained it, then fumbled through the door and down the complicated network of staircases that kept this ramshackle inn together to find a refill.

Like every house Daichi had been in before this trip, the kitchen was the center of the action. A few of the Seijoh drivers were sitting around the table there, sipping tea and talking with the middle-aged proprietor – so maybe it wasn’t that late. They laughed at his bleary-eyed grumblings as the innkeeper poured out some tomato-based hangover cure. He hated tomatoes, but he drank like he was ordered, holding his nose as he chugged it, then pushed the glass away with a grimace. The drivers laughed harder, an uproar that pressed on his pounding temples. The innkeeper took pity on him and silenced them with a Mother look strict enough to stop them mid-chuckle. She replaced the concoction with regular tea and patted his shoulder.

He smiled at her in thanks, then made eye contact with the driver across the table from him. “Where’s the rest of us?” he asked. The driver jerked a thumb at the open garden door.

“Most’a them are out there, bein’ idiots.” Another driver snorted. “Our darling leader is out bein’ a flea-mongerin’ merchant with what stands for a town here – no offense.” The innkeeper waved him off with her spatula. “And we’re in here, bein’ smart, well-fed idiots.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that first part,” the innkeeper said as she flipped one of the pancakes on her stove onto the plate by it. Daichi had never seen anyone who could man three skillets at once without burning anything. “But no one leaves my Marmot-Goat sayin’ I ain’t gonna feed ‘em.” They raised their glasses at that and cheered in raucous harmony.

Daichi let her shove pancakes in his face until the nausea went away, then excused himself to check on the idiots loitering in her herb garden. For a small, newer village, she had a big garden, expansive enough that they could spread out into little groups for their own leisure activities – cards, weapon repair and maintenance, naps, and the like. Some of the more energetic ones sparred in the beaten earth paths between the herbs, observed and goaded on by their friends. Ken was getting his ass handed to him by Shigeru, which Daichi knew they wouldn’t hear the end of unless someone cut off Shigeru’s tongue. Shigeru’s troublemakers were the referees, although Yuutarou seemed a little more into it than Akira, who was napping in the shade of a juniper bush, the nameless pet squirrel curled up on his stomach. Ryuu and Shinji were poking fun at Takahiro while Hajime watched from a perch on top of the tied-log fence, smile apparent only in the dimple in his cheek. Takahiro himself was getting a haircut, wet hair in his closed eyes as Issei crouched in front of his stump-seat with a knife, evening out his bangs. Ryuu saw Daichi over Takahiro’s bowed head and cried out, “Ey! Look what the opossum-cat dragged out!”

“Yeah, yeah, stuff it, you overgrown lizard.” Ryuu stuck out his tongue as Shinji laughed, kicking Ryuu in the side with a snort. Daichi grinned and joined them, definitely not looking at Issei, even though his presence was like a new magnetic north. “Thought your hair was short enough already, Taka. Didn’t you just get a trim last week?”

Shinji grinned. “He’s just jealous he can’t pull off… the Look.” He rubbed a hand over his shaved head as Ryuu did the same with dramatic pouts, a practiced movement that still made Daichi laugh and Hajime chuckle. Takahiro hmphed and crossed his arms. Issei slapped his wrist.

“Stay still, Taka, unless you want a scar to go with those freckles.” He pulled the hair that fell in front of Takahiro’s ears down to check the length, face turned away from Daichi’s sneaked looks. He had stuck a few sticks through his hair to make a haphazard bun in the back today, his usual look when they weren’t on duty. The hair tie still on Daichi’s wrist burned; he laid a hand over it to hide it. “Sleep well, bossman?” Issei asked, shooting a look over his shoulder. Daichi blinked, then scowled. Issei smirked and turned back to his current occupation. “I could do you next if you want. You’re getting a little wild.”

Daichi’s scowl deepened, but Ryuu said before he could snap back, “He ain’t wrong, y’know.” He laid out on his side to scrub a hand over Daichi’s hair before he was batted away (before he could feel the still-sticky back). “You’ve let yourself go, boss.”

Daichi opened his mouth to agree – caught the corner of a sly grin with a tongue poking out – closed it with a gulp. “That’s okay. I- I kinda like how it’s growing out.” The corner of Issei’s eye crinkled.

“I’ll take that offer.” Hajime hopped down from the fence as everyone looked back at him, even Takahiro cracking an eye. Hajime yanked on his braid hard enough to pull back the skin of his high forehead. “Get this thing off me.”

Issei smiled, a rare one with teeth and no slinky overtones. “With pleasure.”

Chapter Text

“This place sucks,” Issei whispered a few weeks later in a dive bar dug into a mountain. “Let’s get out of here.”

Daichi cut his eyes at him. Issei propped his chin on Daichi’s shoulder, scooting up next to him on the bench. “Why, is there something better you had in mind?” Daichi asked as flat as he could. Issei waggled his eyebrows. Daichi planted a hand on his face and shoved him away. “Jackass.”

“Just tryin’ to keep things interesting.” He moved back to a respectable distance, looking out from their corner table at the mixed clientele. Some of the caravan had come with them, but after several weeks of hard roads, tall, paranoia-inducing canyons, rough weather, and rough people, more than half of them crashed as soon as the night’s camp was set. Daichi was too keyed up for sleep; that, coupled with the look Issei shot him across the camp, was enough to get him to leave Ryuu behind and stump down the animal path to the hole in the mountainside they had passed just before sunset. That town back on the lake had been the last bastion of friendliness before the wilds set in, and Daichi missed it with every dirty day. Morning drill lost its happy competition, tempers flaring at any lightning strike. Tooru had joined in, too, despite Irihata’s sniffing disapproval, with Shinji and Issei handing over swordsmanship training that he swallowed in gulps, his grip growing surer with each lesson. Daichi himself was starting to notice his own improvement, although not nearly as dramatic or flashy as Tooru’s. It wasn’t easy work, but there was the crew, and Ryuu, and Issei to keep things interesting. And Issei was keeping things very interesting.

The Issei in question snapped the hair tie still on Daichi’s wrist. “Something on your mind, bossman?”

“Nah.” He drained his beer (as terrible as the bar) and slid out from the end. “Want another?”

Issei shook his head and copied his actions. “We should actually head out,” he said, swinging some loose hair out of his face. “We can take our time on the way back,” he said with a wink. Daichi set his jaw and spun away, grabbing Issei’s mug and his to bring them back to the bar, Issei’s low chuckles following.

He handed the empty mugs and some coins over to the barkeep to close out, running a hand through his hair with a sigh as he waited for the change.

“Rough night, beautiful?”

It took him a second, but he was getting better at recognizing when he was being flirted with. He blinked at the stranger who had materialized at his side – rough, dirty, a skinny braid at the base of his neck and beaten gold loops hanging from his earlobes. He winked. “I could make it rougher.” Daichi coughed and shook his head with a negative swipe of his hand. The stranger had a gaunt face, obviously underfed, but he had eyelashes almost as long as Ryuu’s and something that flashed like metal in his mouth when he asked, “You sure? I’m known for giving a good ride.”

Daichi couldn’t help it – he laughed, forehead knocking on the bartop. “Really? That line ever get you anywhere?”

He peeked out one side to catch the stranger’s stunned stare, then his uneasy recovery. “Believe it or not.” He tilted his chin up, sly grin back on. “You here with anybody?”

“A few.” The barkeep came back with his change – three coins short. He frowned. “Hey-”

The stranger covered Daichi’s hand with his. “I got this.” He scowled at the retreating barkeep’s rounded shoulders. “Hey, old fart! You wanna knife in your shoulder or you wanna give the man what he’s due?”

Daichi clenched his jaw as the barkeep stuttered and counted out the right change. “My hero.” He took the dirty coins fished out of the barkeep’s apron and pocketed them, then pushed off the bar to leave. The stranger caught his arm, scarred-up hand scraping the skin of his elbow. Daichi looked down at it, then up at the stranger, eyebrows raised. “Can I help you?”

“I basically just bought you a drink,” he murmured, leaning in so he could be heard. “Don’t I at least get a name?”

Daichi bent one of his fingers back until he winced and let go. “You’ll have to ask a little more nicely.”

“Yo, bossman!” Issei called from the door. “You coming?”

“On my way,” Daichi called back, not breaking eye contact with the stranger until dark eyes frowned and looked to the side, lip curling. Daichi turned away and walked out after Issei.

To his credit, Issei had the mercy to wait until they were out of sight to slide an arm around his shoulders and ask, “What was that about?”

Daichi shrugged. “Nothing.” Issei was a warm weight against him, and it was hard not to lean into it. “I thought you said we were gonna take our time heading back?”

Daichi couldn’t see it in the weak new moonlight, but he could feel Issei’s slow grin. “Are you actually propositioning me? What’s gotten into you?”

“If you make me say it I’m walking straight to camp.” Issei barked a laugh and shook Daichi by the shoulders. Daichi ducked out of his loose hold and clambered up the boulders that lined the animal trail until he found a two-person sized dip behind a few. “Well?” he asked, not looking back, all the skin above his shoulders on fire. Issei chuckled and followed.

It was barely after sunrise when they set out the next morning, Daichi still yawning even after drill. Ryuu cackled on the wagon bench next to him. “You’ve been having a little too much nighttime fun lately, Dai!” he crowed, falling on him and scrubbing his head. Daichi caved under his pressure and took the rubbing, hiding the tail of his yawn in his elbow. Ryuu pressed their cheeks together, directing their eyes at Issei’s mounted back ahead of them. “So has the skinny slimeball these days.”

Daichi writhed and bucked him off. “Stop calling him that.”

“I’ll call him that as long as he’s regularly eating your face.” He grabbed said face and squeezed his cheeks so his mouth pursed, crooning, “Because no one can deserve you!”

“Ge’off!” He flailed and caught Ryuu in the stomach with his elbow. Ryuu grunted and let his face go, wheezing with his laugh.

“A’ight, a’ight.” He sat back, feet up on the ledge and arms spread along the back, tapping at Daichi’s neck. “It’s true, though. You’re a rare thing.” Daichi grinned, and Ryuu scratched his fingers in the three-inch scruff on the back of his head. “Might wanna take those teeth in, though.” He tugged. “You keep markin’ the smileball up like that and no one’ll be able to pretend to ignore it.” Daichi blinked at Issei’s back – at the dim square bruises over the high collar of the Oikawa armor. “Somewhere, deep inside me, I’m happy you’re finally getting’ some,” he added, “but try not to rub it in so much, a’ight?”

Daichi stared at the passing cliffs for a minute, then swung off the wagon to thump down on the ground. “I’m walking away from this.”

Ryuu howled with laughter and kicked out at him, several feet too far away. “Aw, don’t be like that!” Daichi just stomped up the caravan on the opposite side from Issei, weaving past plodding wagons and closeknit guards until he couldn’t hear Ryuu anymore, letting the post-dawn stillness settle over him.

“Oh? Needed to stretch your legs already, Sawamura?” Daichi looked over and up as Tooru sidled up beside him, a Happy-bite distance away. “Gonna be a long day if you think like that.”

Daichi grinned. “Maybe I just wanted to see your pretty face, Oikawa.”

Tooru tossed his head, wild waves tousling as dramatic as Happy’s horns and forelock. “Well it is only natural.” Daichi laughed, and Tooru smiled, that almost-normal eye crinkle that would stop the hearts of lesser creatures. “How you been? Feels like we haven’t talked in ages.”

“Aw, did you miss me?” Tooru’s nose wrinkled as he stuck it in the air, although the smile didn’t leave his eyes. Daichi laughed, head thrown back, and shoved Tooru’s calf, dancing back out of Happy’s range before she could take out her teeth. Tooru waved his foot in his stirrup, not quite a kick, and stuck his tongue out. Daichi chuckled. “You’re such a baby.” Tooru pouted.

“Well at least I’m not still teething,” he shot back. Daichi groaned and slapped a hand to his face, earth pounding up his legs the only thing keeping him from tripping.

“Is it really that obvious?”

“Yes.” Daichi scowled at him through his fingers. Tooru winked. “But it’s fun to watch.”

“Yeah, well, you’re one to talk.” Tooru blinked, face falling flat. “I saw Hajime’s shoulder this morning, after all.” He grinned, but instead of Tooru firing back like he usually did, he turned a bright red, eyes blowing wide. Daichi frowned. “What, really?”

“I-” Tooru clammed up and turned away. “How long?”

“What, how long have I known?” Tooru squeaked, knees tightening enough that Happy snorted and stomped. He squeaked again for a new reason and caught her reins again to keep her restrained. Daichi chuckled and glanced down the winding road, both with his eyes and with his feet. “I can’t believe y’all-” He squinted at the bend in the road, skin prickling. “Huh.”

“Daichi, come on-”

“No, wait.” He stopped, frowning into space as he sank his feet in to the ankle. “Something’s not right.”

Tooru clicked Happy to a halt, moving to the side as the caravan’s slower pace rumbled by. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” He knelt, closing his eyes and sticking a hand in for a better look. “It feels… I think the road up ahead’s been tampered with.” He pointed at the bend fifty yards away. “The ground underneath’s loose up there, and with nice, straight edges, only under the road. Someone did that on purpose.” He looked up at Tooru, early morning shadows stark on Tooru’s bronzed face. They shifted as Tooru set his jaw, then nudged Happy around with his knees and held up his fist for the halt, answered in jerky waves and mutters down the line.

Irihata trotted up from the rear, Hajime only a few steps behind on foot to take position between Daichi and Tooru. Irihata pursed his lips, the high forehead of his receding hairline showing his frown more than his face. “Sir?”

“There’s a trap in the road ahead,” Tooru said, shoulders back, no longer the child Daichi had called him a minute before. “Apparently the ruffians around here got smart.” He cut his eyes at Hajime, who nodded and left without an order, hopping up the cliffs without a sound. Daichi watched him disappear over the top, then around at the surroundings with new eyes.

They were at the bottom of another of this area’s endless ravines, maybe three stories tall at the highest of its misaligned points, orange and dust weak in the morning light. The ravine opened up right where the trap was, but that was invisible to the eye. Daichi stood and clapped the dirt off his hands. This wasn’t the first cautious halt the caravan had called, nor was it the first time Tooru had unstrapped his sword’s sheath from his saddle to sling it across his back as he barked orders (nor the first time Irihata’s nose had wrinkled at that action). Still, the air when the latent tension in the Oikawa line switched to an immediate threat made Daichi’s breath catch every time.

“We can’t stay still for long,” Tooru murmured to Irihata so his voice didn’t carry through the ravine’s tricky corners. “They’ll know we’re onto them.” He looked to Daichi, silky eyes hard as marble. “Daichi. Can you fix the trap without them noticing?”

He frowned. “Depends on how much attention they’re paying to it. Earth isn’t really quiet.”

Tooru hummed. “We can assume they’re paying plenty of attention to it, I believe.” Tooru drummed his fingers on the buckle of his sword’s bandolier, tiny metallic clings, dark leather on a bright green somehow unfaded by road dirt. Stop. “Wait, if-”

An arrow whizzed down and thunked into the meat of Happy’s shoulder. She screamed, rearing back on her hindquarters, pawing at the air – Tooru clung to her, barely, teeth gritted, as the caravan saw the arrow and swung into action. More homemade arrows rained down on an earthbent awning, casting the caravan into deep shadow. Holes cracked open in it – obviously the attackers had earthbenders – the columns of light flickered as they dropped in, howling, badger-fox-calling, high-pitched yips echoing so they couldn’t be placed or counted. A flash of a hoof warned Daichi just in time for him to dive away from Happy’s flailing, Tooru still struggling for control. Daichi pushed to his hands and looked around, around, but there was too much going on, too many feet and fights and noise. He scrambled to put his back to a wall, fingers digging into the rough sandstone for comfort as he tried to take it all in, figure out where he fit. Feathers and wheels plunged and swirled, foreign silhouettes mixing with familiar, a ragtag mix of dirty clothes, dirty hair, and dirty weapons. Projectiles hissed through the air, animal and human screams clashing. The hasty ceiling was crumbling, debris as dangerous as arrows. He could fix that.

He bent the half-gone covering back into the wall with a clench of his fingers in the rock, earth thrumming in his bones calming him as good as any tea. He took a breath, then re-evaluated the new battlefield. Two attackers had Akira cornered; he sunk them into the ground to the knee, then caught their hands when they fell on them. Ken was shielding Shigeru as he treated a driver with a head wound, blood dripping – Ken’s teeth were bared, dripping blood himself, a wavy knife sticking out of his forearm. Daichi drew the three guys on him back with a shift of the earth under their feet, giving Ken room to breathe and Shinji room to swing in with a shout and a boulder. Ryuu had a guy pinned with his knees on their wrists, snarling in their skinny face. Daichi wrapped the poor soul up to the neck, kicking Ryuu off, who spun to his feet, wild-eyed, but didn’t see Daichi before Issei and Takahiro cut off the line of sight, back to back, working in their twin-like tandem to drag the attackers off the carts and away from the trade goods. The drivers were still mostly wagon-mounted, doing their job and keeping sticky fingers away. Oh- bandits. That’s what this was.

Tooru’s sword and Happy’s horns curved above it all, her legs trembling, whites of her eyes showing. What the bandits couldn’t have known was her moose-lion temper, or that such an injury, after the initial shock, would kick it up to wildfire. Red caked her muzzle and her horns, Tooru white-faced as they whirled on another attacker, as pretty as any war ballad for a shining second.

A tiny feather shot down and stabbed Tooru in the neck. He bared his teeth, wincing as he yanked it out, but Daichi could already see him wavering in his saddle. He stepped forward to catch him, but a body dropped between them, with a dirty braid, gold loops in his ears, and a slice of a smile over a long knife in one hand and another feather in the other. “Rough day, beautiful?”

Daichi’s brain wasn’t quick enough, but his now well-drilled body was. His feet set in their stance as the stranger from the bar advanced, knife first. His arm knocked it away, following the flow of it to spin on one foot and back kick with the other, catching above the stranger’s knee. His leg caved, but he rolled into it and onto the other knee, flashing around to stick the feather in Daichi’s thigh. He hissed – there was a needle on the end, a sharp point that radiated an ache. Daichi yanked it out and tossed it aside, but the stranger just grinned up at him. “Told you I could make it rougher.”

The world swam around him, shouts and rumbles messing with his vision. He shook his head – ow. “What…” He reached back for the cliff for balance – reached the wrong way. He toppled over, head hitting hard, black closing in. The last things he saw were a flying stone hand crash into the wall just under the bright green spot of Tooru’s tunic as it was hoisted up the cliff, the glint of mud in yellow teeth –

Black.

Chapter Text

Daichi came to feeling like he had been hit over the head and dragged two miles through the dirt, aching and dirty and covered in scratches. He groaned, squinting against the pulse in his sore jaw and the headache pounding at his temples. The thing behind him – the thing he was tied to, forearms wrenched behind his back and sitting up – shifted. “Dai? Daichi, you okay?”

He groaned again, head falling all the way back onto a shoulder. “Toh?”

His support exhaled, sagging under him. “You’re alive. I mean, I knew you were alive, you were still breathing, but-”

“Toh.” He winced. “Shu’up.”

“Oh? Is our other guest awake at last?” Someone crouched beside him and grabbed his chin, turning it to face them. He cracked an eye – it was dim, wherever they were, but not enough to keep his headache away or hide the identity of his captor. “Mornin’, bossman.” He groaned and closed his eyes again. The stranger from the bar laughed. “Now is that any way to greet your host?”

“Terushima.” The hand let go of Daichi’s jaw. “Stop your creepy flirting and get over here.” He sighed and pushed to his feet, walking away to where voices Daichi’s scrambled head could hear but not understand squabbled.

Daichi adjusted his seat, running through his limbs to catalog for injuries. There was something loose in his mouth; he explored the shape with his tongue and jumped at the empty hole where a lower canine tooth had been. He spit it out to the side, iron on his lips, but he could deal with that later. Except for that, a headache, and a few bruises, he was fine, but he was tied at his crossed wrists with Tooru’s, ankles bound in front. They hadn’t trapped his fingers, though, so the least he could do was make their temporary prison comfortable. He pushed some pebbles down and softened the earth; Tooru sighed. “Nice to see you’re still here, Dai.”

“Habit.” They shifted a little so they could support each other’s shoulders, Tooru’s hair tickling his neck and ear. “What happened?”

“We got careless,” Tooru mumbled, turning his head enough that his temple rested on the back of Daichi’s. “Stupid, to keep thinking our size would keep shit like this away. There are always idiots, and even idiots can get lucky.”

“Not so sure it was luck.” He tried to think past the mallet banging the bell of his skull. “Why take us? Why take us?”

“Ransom, most likely. People like this always think people like us have a gold mine hanging around their waists.” His fingers scrabbled against the back of Daichi’s hands until he turned them so he could hide his fists inside Daichi’s. “S’not always true.”

“Oh.” He swallowed. “So what now?”

“We watch them lick their asses until they figure out how to contact the caravan, someone rescues us, or they kill us,” he said. “Unless you’ve got an escape plan in that shaggy head of yours.”

“You’re one to talk about shaggy heads.” Something in the way Tooru’s voice refused to tremble was nagging at him. He stuck a thumb in the circle of Tooru’s fist to pry it open only for Tooru to knit their fingers together in a watertight weave. “This has happened before,” he said.

Tooru nodded. “Granted, it’s been a while,” he said with a too-light hum. “They were more… hard, than these shits, though. And I was a lot younger.”

Daichi’s comforting thumb dipped into the jarring hole where Tooru’s little finger was supposed to be. “Is that…” Tooru nodded. “Oh.” Daichi gulped, but laced the fingers of their other hands together as well. “I got you.” Tooru sighed, trailing into a hiss. “Are you hurt?”

Tooru laughed, a dry crackle. “A little.” He hissed louder, shifting behind Daichi. “Happy banged me against the wall,” he said. “My knee looks like a watermelon.” Daichi squeezed his hands, but he shook his head. “I’ll get through it. At least it’s still there.” He laid back on Daichi’s shoulder, enough so Daichi could feel breath rustle his hair. “How about you?”

“Think I spit out a tooth,” he admitted. “And why is it so bright here?”

“We’re in a cave, sweetheart.” Tooru sighed. “You’ve probably got a concussion.”

Daichi groaned. “One day, I’m buying a dictionary so I can hit you with it.”

“Oh, stop it, a concussion’s normal talk. Means your brain hit the inside of your head.”

“Ouch.”

“You should be okay for now, as long as they don’t knock us out again.” Tooru lifted his head from Daichi’s shoulder to watch their captors argue across the cave. “Honestly, they’re just kids,” he whispered. “Where’s their fucking mom?” Daichi huffed, and Tooru scratched the back of his hand with a nail. “Shove it.”

Daichi grinned as much as his sore mouth would let him. “Oh, how the pot calls the kettle black.”

“You’re like, what, six months older than me? Maybe?”

“But I don’t act like I’m not my age.”

Tooru laughed. “Dear, dear. You act like everyone’s dad.”

Daichi opened his mouth – closed it. “Some people need a dad.”

“I never said it was a bad thing.”

“Neither did I. About you.” He squeezed their hands for a second. “You’re good at your job. It’s…” His chin hit his chest. “It’s nice to see.”

“Aww.” Tooru’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Are you proud of me, Dad?”

“Stop that.” Daichi knocked their heads together and gritted his remaining teeth through the clang. “I’m never complimenting you again.”

“That’s boring. You know if I don’t get a constant stream of positive attention I melt.”

“Then you probably picked the wrong boyfriend.” Tooru stiffened behind him, but this time he was ready for it. “That is what Hajime is, right?”

Tooru sighed, long and whistling. “I guess that’s a word for it,” he whispered. He sighed again and slumped back on Daichi, hair in his face, fingers twitching. “I love him,” he breathed.

“I know.” Tooru turned his face away, shell of his ear pressing its ridges into Daichi’s shoulder. “It’s cute.” They fell still and silent, the persistent background noise of the bandit’s arguing taking shape. “What do they want with us, anyway?”

“No fucking clue.” Tooru paused to listen. “They don’t seem to be the most organized of criminals.”

“So I’ve noticed.”

“Their leader seems to know you, though.”

Daichi shrugged at the implied question with his unoccupied shoulder. “He tried to hit on me in that dive last night. Not very good at it.” He pulled at their restraints. “Guess I made an impression. Seemed a little hung up on learning my name, though.”

Tooru hummed. “I can play along with that.” Tooru rolled his head on Daichi’s shoulder, forehead pressing against the side of his neck. “So my farmhand has made another conquest.”

Daichi snorted. “Issei is hardly a conquest.”

“I’m not talking about Mattsun.” Before he could ask, Tooru squirmed to sit up straight behind him. “Hup. Incoming.”

Footsteps crunched across gravel, more than one set, and stopped around them. Daichi squinted an eye open. “Hey there. Y’all figure out your shit?”

“Now, dear, don’t give them too much credit.” Tooru sighed like his favorite tea had just ran out. “After all, there is a lot of shit in this place.”

A crack – Tooru’s head jerked to the side. Someone had slapped him. “Shut up,” a too-young voice snapped. Daichi felt something boil in him, an ugly simmer he could almost place. “Can’t we gag ‘em already?”

“No, we need them to talk.” Terushima crouched beside Daichi again, a finger on his cheek turning him so they made slits of eye contact. “Who are you?”

Daichi swallowed blood so he could muster enough spit to click his tongue. “Still not asking nicely.”

A long, sharp line pressed underneath his chin – he hadn’t even seen Terushima draw his knife. Daichi barely blinked as he bared his dirty teeth. “That joke’s gotten old,” he growled.

“Unlike you. You’re what, nineteen? What’re you doing snatching people off the road?”

He sneered, not quite his slice smile. “Not every can be so fortunate as to be born into luxury.”

Daichi raised an eyebrow. “Well, I’m just a farmhand. I work for a living.”

Terushima’s smile fell off to a hard stare. “Aren’t you in charge, bossman?” Daichi blinked, then groaned, falling back on Tooru. “Well? Aren’t you?”

“Toh- dear, when we get out of here, I’m killing Ryuu,” he moaned, “and his stupid nickname.”

“Aww, I think it’s cute.”

“It got me kidnapped, sweetheart.” He scowled at Terushima. “Can you get that thing out of my face? It’s a little uncomfortable.”

Terushima’s eyes narrowed, but he drew his knife away from Daichi’s neck to scratch his scalp with the butt of it. “So that’s it? You’re just sleeping with the boss?”

“Is that what we’re doing?” Tooru asked. “Why didn’t you tell me, D- dear? I would’ve untied my feet.”

Terushima scoffed and stood, kicking the dirt. “Great. Well at least this one-” He kicked Tooru’s bad knee, making him cry out and double over, almost dragging Daichi with him- “might prove useful. No farmhand dresses like that.” He dragged Tooru back by the hair to another strangled hiss. “Let’s see just how much you’re worth to your men,” he growled.

“Good luck,” Tooru gasped. “Hope you like being paid in pottery.” Tooru’s fingers clenched over Daichi’s. “Unless you’ve got a bank hidden in that mountain over there, that’s the most expensive thing we’ve got.” The hand let go of Tooru’s hair, but he kept his back and shoulders straight even as his hands trembled. “Trust me. Your little gang of urchins would break it all before you could find anyone who cares.” He hummed, that patronizing triplet that usually meant someone was about to hit him. “You didn’t really think this through, did you?”

“Dear, be nice,” Daichi said before he could get slapped again. “After all, they’re still children.” He opened his eyes completely, headache still pounding but the adrenaline pushing it aside. They really were just children; this Terushima fellow was the tallest and the oldest, the rest ranging from surly teenager to barely above Ren Takashima’s age. They all look ragged, some bleeding through dirty bandages wrapped around limbs and joints, stubborn tilts to the head and white knuckles. “There has to be something y’all can do besides harass people in the middle of the mountains,” he said, making eye contact around the standing crowd. “Don’t you-” He frowned. “No, probably not.”

“Go ahead,” one of the younger, angrier ones snapped, earthbending Daichi’s feet enclosed to the knee. “Say it. Ask where our parents are.”

“No need,” Daichi said, turning the bent earth to sand with his fingers and toes, fighting a smile at the wide-eyed murmuring. “Parents would have taught y’all manners.” Tooru snorted behind him. “I’ve met plenty of orphans who made their way in the world without hurting others. That’s just an excuse you use to help you sleep at night.”

The little angry one bristled, fists down at his sides. “Teru, can we kill them already?” he gritted out, face red.

“You aren’t going to kill me,” Daichi said before Terushima could answer. “Maybe you could’ve, back where you ambushed us – that was quite clever, by the way.” One of the others scoffed and blushed while two high-fived. “But not now. You’ve talked to us. The heat of that moment’s gone.” He forced a smile. “So, if you let us go now, I may be able to convince the rest of our party not to track you down and kill you. Because they won’t care that you’re kids. Not after I tell them you slapped their boss around.” The one who had done the Tooru-slapping took a step to hide behind his neighbor. “They ain’t gonna take kindly to that.” He looked between each set of suspicious eyes as they woke up to their situation, his speech drilling in. “If you let us go, I can conveniently forget where this cave is, even if they want to know.”

“But dear,” Tooru whined, “they pulled my hair.”

“You need a haircut anyway.” Daichi cut his eyes at Terushima, face tight as he tugged on his earloop. “You wait much longer and you’re gonna have your choice made for you.”

Terushima hmphed and flicked his earloop. “You’re probably right about that.” He tapped the blunt side of his knife against his cheek, jaw working. “You’re a piece a’work, bossman.”

“What’s that suppos-“

“Yuuji Terushima!” Terushima’s eyes widened to white saucers as everyone froze, the echoes of the shriek catching in the recesses of the cave. “What have you done?”

Terushima turned to the mouth of the cave, shoulders hunching in with his grin. “Why, Hana! I didn’t expect you back-”

Something flew across the twenty feet between the silhouette and Terushima’s face to knock him two steps back, the object dropping at Daichi’s side – a shoe. The owner of the shoe stomped unevenly across the cave to slap Terushima across the other cheek with all her might, round face a livid red, drawn to her full five foot height. He gasped and clutched it, lip curling at her. She just grabbed the strap of his one shoulderguard and hauled him down so she could spit “Four days!” in his face. “Four days I leave you in charge to go on a supply run, and what is this? Blood everywhere, every other one of y’all cut up, those are not our packs at the door-” She glared down at Tooru and Daichi, and he knew that look. Yui, one of the kitchen maids who was in charge of the Sugawara children, got that shine in her eye when all four were screaming for something different at the end of a long day. “Why do you do this to me, Yuuji?” she moaned, shaking him so hard his teeth rattled. She shoved him away with a growl of distaste, tossing her overloaded pack at another body before snatching her castoff shoe from the ground. Every bandit-boy winced as she waved it around. “And you boys! I’m so disappointed!” She stuck it in a skinny face. “Rin! I thought you knew better than to believe Yuuji’s highwayman fantasies!”

He paled, but Terushima pushed to his elbows where he was still sprawled on the ground, frowning. “Hana, we have to provide for our own, or-”

She stomped, and Terushima flew to his feet, propelled by a blunt stalagmite, so she could slap him again with her shoe. “Don’t you dare give me that.” She sniffed, and Terushima grimaced, cheeks red.

“Don’t- Hana, don’t cry-”

“I’m not crying!” She hopped on one foot to put her shoe back on; Terushima held her shoulder steady. “You just piss me off!” When her shoe was on her foot again, she batted his hand away and swiped at her eyes. “I work my ass off to keep everyone fed like we don’t live in a cave, and I turn my back for a second-” She sniffed again.

One of the smaller ones came up and hugged her, hiding his face in her shoulder. “We’re sorry, Hana.”

“Hey! What about us?” They looked down at Tooru. “We’re the ones robbed and tied up on the ground!” Daichi ducked his head so they wouldn’t see him smile. The hugger scowled at Tooru, but Hana sighed and fell to her knees at Tooru’s feet to untie them. Daichi worked his aching fingers loose in the shadow between their backs.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she said, low and cracking. “I need to learn to control them more.”

 “It’s not your fault,” he answered. “It’s a lot of boys for one lady, even one as capable as you.” Daichi rolled his eyes – jumped at a touch at his own feet. Terushima – Yuuji – whatever, was untying him, attention focused on the knots, hair in his eyes. Daichi didn’t have time to think of a joke for that before he was done, Hana already working on their arms as Tooru kept flirting with her. The bandit boys stepped back as they stood, most of them scampering to the shadows. Daichi helped Tooru up without asking if he needed it, slinging Tooru’s arm over his shoulders and sliding his own around Tooru’s waist to take the weight off the bad knee. Hana steadied his other side, but Tooru got his good leg under him with a smile. “No need, darling. I’ve got all my support on staff.” She backed away, hair bobbing in a bow.

Daichi waited until the stranger from the bar looked up at him, hard eyes and mud on his face. He jerked his chin up. “Dear, stop flirting, it’s time to get out of here.”

“Aww, but I was just starting to have fun again!”

“Don’t get yourself involved in other people’s affairs, and stop sticking your foot in your mouth.”

“Wait, we’re just gonna let them go­-” the small, angry one spat, but a circle-eyed glare from Hana stopped him.

“Yes,” she hissed. “I’ll deal with you later.” He yelped and scuttled behind Terushima, for all the good it did. She led them to the cave mouth, mid-afternoon heat wafting over them, boys parting like a river before Yuutarou.

“I can’t apologize enough for what they’ve done,” she mumbled through her angry sniffling. “If I could-” She huffed. “Ara! Get the stuff you took from them! All of it!”

Tooru and Daichi paused as the boys whined and dragged their heels to a few bags slumped to the side with the Oikawa teardrop on them. It looked like all they had managed to grab were some half-empty rations and an armful of rabbit-deer pelts. Tooru’s breath puffed on Daichi’s neck. “Oh, just keep it,” he sighed. Hana tried to protest, but Tooru waved it off, regal as a prince even when he could barely stand. “No, no. We couldn’t carry it anyway.”

She put up a front of fighting him, but gave in when they got outside and out of earshot of everyone but Terushima, hovering just at the shadowline. Daichi grinned at her as they limped along. “Looks like you got your work cut out for you.”

She tried to smile, tucking some brown hair behind her ear. “I used to have help,” she admitted. “But… life’s not easy, out here.”

“It’s not easy anywhere.” He paused to adjust his arm around Tooru’s waist. “Just different.” Her smile reached her eyes this time. He nodded. “You take care now, ma’am.” Dimples dug into her cheeks for a second before her face fell into a hard glare, spinning on her heel and grabbing Terushima’s ear as she passed, dragging him in, human noise from the cave ringing out as chaotic as the ambush. “We better get outta here, before they change their minds again,” Daichi murmured. Tooru nodded, but didn’t make a move to leave. Daichi frowned at the side of his face. “Need me to carry you?”

“Maybe.” He groaned and adjusted his stance. “But not until we’re out of sight. I have my dignity, after all.”

“Right.” He hitched Tooru up with a dual hiss. “Our dignity.”

They made it across the cleared semicircle around the cave mouth, struggling down the scrub and boulders that made up the hillside towards the meandering ravine bottom, not quite a valley. As soon as they couldn’t see the dark hole anymore, Tooru cried out and sank onto the nearest rock, clutching his right knee. Daichi sank with him, down to his knees, and used the belt knife the careless bandits hadn’t taken from him to slice off Tooru’s pants leg above the knee, tossing the cloth aside. Even to his untrained eye, this looked bad, blue and purple bruises around new and opened scabs from the fight between rock and buffalo-yak that his leg lost. It was swollen enough that Daichi was shocked he could even bend it. He could hear Shigeru’s screeching already. “You need ice, and a fuck lot of it,” Daichi said, brushing careful fingertips over skin. Even that was too much for Tooru, who gripped his leg above the swelling, curling over it, saltwater dripping onto Daichi’s wrists. “Screw your dignity,” he hissed. “We have to-”

Tooru whipped up to look at the sky – at a silhouette on top of a sunblock boulder. “Hajime,” he breathed. Something clattered down the slope of the boulder to catch at Daichi’s feet – little stone tiles that formed a handprint – just before Hajime slid down after them, storming up the three strides it took to halt a step in front of Tooru, an invisible shield keeping the copper fire in his eyes from burning him up. Tooru smiled at him, mud in his teeth. “Hi.”

Hajime sucked in a breath, not blinking even as his eyes began to water. “Who did this,” he growled, voice barely human.

“That’s so sweet of you- to ask,” Tooru gasped through gritted teeth. “But unless- you’re going to beat up Happy – or a rock-” He clenched up. “Dai! Stop!”

“Well stop fidgeting.” Daichi dabbed more at the leaking blood from an opened scab, flicking sweat out of his eyes. “C’mon, Haj, we gotta- oh.” Hajime’s dark face was screwed up, red and lined, mouth open as he struggled to breathe. Daichi swallowed, shoulders as tense as Hajime’s white knuckles. “Hey…”

“I shouldn’t…” Hajime gulped. “I left you. I’m supposed to-”

“It’s okay,” Daichi said, shifting to a one-knee crouch, ready to respond to any wild animal movements. “We’re okay.”

“But you could’ve not been!” he shouted, still not looking away from Tooru’s wide cinnamon eyes. “You-”

“You’re always so dramatic about me bleeding,” Tooru sighed, pushing on Daichi’s shoulder to stand on his good leg. “It’s not a good look on you.” He hopped on his good foot to face Hajime with a pained smile, tight around his eyes. “I appreciate you following me around, though.”

Hajime remained rooted to his spot, a breath away from Tooru, silent communication heating up this cavity more than the sun ever could. Daichi was frozen, watching, the two of them numb to their audience as Hajime lifted a trembling hand to trace the red mark on Tooru’s cheekbone. “That wasn’t Happy,” he whispered, lips barely moving. Tooru covered the hand with his, turning to press his mouth to his fingers.

“No,” he admitted to Hajime’s palm. “But it’s okay. I can handle it.”

“But you shouldn’t have to,” Hajime hissed, other hand still in a fist at his side. “I should-”

“I’m not that kid in the alley anymore, Iwa-chan,” Tooru said, lowering their joined hands to chest height. “You don’t have to save me now. I don’t need a knight.”

“But it’s what you deserve,” he said. “Don’t you see that?”

Tooru blinked, then laughed, cupping Hajime’s face to kiss him, one hand still clutching his, sweat and tears mingling. He smacked away after just a second, grinning at Hajime’s dead shock. “You’re too good for me, Hajime.” He beamed down at Daichi, still on one knee on the ground, making him jump. “Dear! Carry me?”

“Dear?”

Daichi sighed. “It’s a long- well, it’s not, but it’s annoying story.” Hajime huffed, keeping a hand on a part of Tooru as he hopped back to his rock to tie the cut-off strip of his ruined pants halfway up his thigh to cut off the swelling. A stray breeze blew down some of the bandits’ chatter from above. Hajime turned his face into it; Daichi grabbed his arm before he could move. Hajime fixed those wild eyes on him, but he held his ground, jaw set. “Don’t.” Hajime’s pupils shrank, but the resistance against Daichi’s grip relaxed, and he moved to help Tooru up instead, only softening when Tooru smiled at him.

“How did you find us, anyway?” he asked, only gasping a little.

“Followed the girl,” Hajime growled as Daichi knelt down so Tooru could climb on his back. “No way a lone woman in these parts wasn’t in on it.”

“You’re so smart, Iwa-chan!” Daichi snorted as hands slapped down on his shoulders. “Hold still, dear.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, let’s get the hell out of here already.” He searched for a hold on Tooru’s leg that didn’t make him hiss and stood, Hajime at the rear as Tooru’s chatter followed them down the hill and westward.

Chapter Text

Lucky for them, Hajime hadn’t been drugged and unconscious on his countryside exploration, so was able to lead the way back to the road without getting lost. He and Daichi switched Tooru-carrying duty after a (very short) while, giving Daichi a break from the headache of Tooru’s chatter and letting them have their moment. He fell a little behind as they picked through the rocks to give them their privacy, heads close together, breeze playing tricks with the sound so he heard snippets of their conversation – just enough to make him smile.

Once the muttering quieted to just birdsong and the wind whistling through the sagebrush, Daichi jumped down from a boulder and landed with an earthbent thud at their side. They blinked over at him, Tooru’s eyes owl-eagle wide, as he fell into step with them and stuck his hands in his pockets. “So.” He wiped some sweat from his eyes. “I’ve never brought this up before ‘cause I was always taught not to carp on the way other people clean.” He raised an eyebrow at their confused skepticism. “But were y’all ever gonna tell us about this?” He gestured at them, Tooru wrapped around Hajime like a koala-sloth, cheeks pressed together. Hajime jerked his away, face going pink from more than the high sun. Tooru smiled and patted his spiky head.

“Thank you, dear. I’ve been trying to talk him around for ages.” He sighed, lacing his fingers together over Hajime’s chest. “He’s just being silly about it.”

“We would have said something,” Hajime growled, gruff turned up high. “Sometime. Maybe. Never.” He shot Daichi a look. “You knew?”

Daichi shrugged. “I figured it out, oh, around the wall crossing.” They both started, and he grinned. “Guess I just know y’all too well. The rest a’them took a little longer, but they know something’s up.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Not sayin’ y’all need to make some grand marriage speech or anything, but it’d be nice to not have to dance around it anymore.”

Hajime turned from pink to red, Tooru’s fingers still idly scratching his scalp as they plodded along. “I don’t want anyone to think I’m going for favors or some shit,” he grumbled.

Tooru rolled his eyes even as he tucked a kiss on Hajime’s cheek. “You see what I have to put up with?” Hajime sneered and bumped their heads together hard enough to make Tooru whine. Daichi laughed.

“Well, I don’t think anyone’s gonna think that about you, Haj.” He stared them down until they both looked away, then heaved a sigh. “I’ll roll with whatever you’re comfortable with, I guess.”

“Okay, dad.” Daichi flicked his wrist so a rock flew over and pinged Tooru in the forehead. “Ow!”

Hajime grunted. “Stop fighting, or I’ll drop you.”

Tooru gasped. “You would not!” Daichi chuckled as they bickered about nothing. He wasn’t worried that they hadn’t given him an actual answer. The bug was in their heads now, and he knew them too well. They could figure it out on their own.

They stumbled onto the road not long after that, just past the churned ambush site. It was empty now but for the debris of a fight and mixed-up tracks, but the trail of the caravan led on. They followed the signs through the twists of another rising canyon, falling silent as the sounds of a crew in chaos echoed around.

“Let me down,” Tooru said when they were almost in sight. Daichi could see Hajime start to protest, so he moved to spot before he opened his mouth, helping support Tooru between them as he got his good leg under him, mouth white and eyes tight. “Okay,” he whispered, and they limped the last few steps past the last rock into view, his head high and dignified.

Daichi had a momentary impression of a hasty camp tucked into a pulloff with half-unpacked wagons before a familiar voice screamed, “DAICHI!” He braced himself a second before its owner barreled into him, dislodging him from Tooru so he could lift Daichi in a hug. “You’re okay! I mean I think you’re okay, are you okay? What happened? Do I need to kill people?” He swung Daichi around a little before plopping him back down to inspect his joints, lifting an arm to scour it for an injury. He slapped his hands to Daichi’s cheeks and stared him down, concern worrying his forehead up to his buzzed hairline. Daichi smiled, and he gasped. “Daichi! Your mouth!”

“Not so loud, Ryuu. I just got a tooth knocked out.”

“A tooth?” Ryuu gasped and pried open Daichi’s jaw to see for himself. “Dai, those don’t grow back!” Daichi shrugged. Ryuu searched his face a moment more, fingernails digging behind Daichi’s ears, before he yanked his head down to smack a kiss on his forehead, more sound than touch. “I’m so happy you’re okay,” he mumbled.

Daichi wiped the spit off his forehead with the back of his hand, but kept smiling. “Yeah. You too, Ryuu.” He still had an arm slung over Ryuu’s shoulders from when he had gotten spun around. He squeezed it in a neck-hug, their foreheads knocking for a second. “Thanks for worrying about me.”

“You kiddin’? Suga would’ve killed me if you got hurt.” He swung around to lean into Daichi’s side and observe as some of the caravan – mostly the drivers, as the guards were either MIA or in bandages – ran up to yell over their boss and his prop. “I see you have company.”

Daichi shrugged, rubbing Ryuu’s head. “Just some stragglers I picked up on the road.”

“Thought you promised to stop doing that, boss.”

Daichi laughed, the bottled-up emotions of the day pouring out of him in gold relief. “Well, hopefully, these two won’t need us to feed them.” Irihata pushed past the gaggle of concerned adults to grip Tooru’s shoulder. “Although we’ll have to wait and see about that one.”

“Sir,” Irihata’s low tone rumbled. “Are you all right?”

Tooru smiled, and Daichi felt compelled to make sure there were no cliffs to jump off of (there were). “I’m pretty okay, Mr. Nobu. See?” He splayed his nine fingers out, clutching Hajime tighter in the process. “I’m all here.” He wrinkled his nose. “And I told you to stop calling me sir.”

Irihata searched his face, then sighed, shoulders slumping. “Right.” His hand slid off Tooru’s shoulder to hang at his side and turned his dark eyes to Hajime. “Iwaizumi-”

“What were you thinking?” one of the drivers interrupted, uncharacteristic of the well-trained Seijoh crew. “You could have gotten yourself killed, running off on your own like that!”

“Just because you can sneak around don’t give you a right to sneak around on us,” another driver snapped. Hajime blinked at them. “You just added another body to our hunt.”

“This ain’t our first road snatchin’,” the first to interrupt said, hands on his hips like a scolding parent. “If you hadn’t let your heart run away with your head, we could’ve helped you out instead of worryin’ our heads off.”

The drivers rose in a general outcry about their safety and stupidity as Hajime and Tooru watched, Tooru’s fingers still in Hajime’s hair. He whispered something to Hajime that Daichi couldn’t hear over the din, hopping for balance as it wavered on his one foot.

Irihata held up a hand for silence. It was obeyed, albeit piecemeal, as he pushed his momentary lapse in professionalism aside and squared his shoulders. “As I was saying. Despite your unruly methods, Iwaizumi, you did rescue our missing people without harm, so. Thank you.”

“Oh, but I didn’t rescue them,” Hajime said. “They got themselves out. I just guided them home.”

Focused stares bore down on Tooru and Daichi, making his skin flush and crawl. Before anyone could ask, Tooru heaved a trademark dramatic sigh and lounged harder on Hajime. “We can tell boring stories about bandit caves later,” he whined. “Will anyone tell me what the damages are or am I gonna have to pull the wagons apart myself?” Despite his flippant tone, his eyes were hard, teeth bared in his smile. They snapped to like they were slapped, jumping back to their previous occupations while Irihata and a few who still had worry lines between their eyebrows led the way towards the circle of the caravan.

Daichi and Ryuu kept their distance, Ryuu still clinging to Daichi (even when Daichi tried to get away). Ryuu made his own, less formal, curse-embellished report as they did their three-legged walk over to a shady spot to sit in. The bandit children had vanished soon after Tooru and Daichi went missing, leaving a lot of surface damage but not much that couldn’t be fixed with a few patch jobs. Someone pressed a waterskin into his hands; he drank blindly as he took it in, the repairs already done or being done, Shigeru’s makeshift infirmary where he was fussing over four people at once, Tooru bleating over Happy’s marred coat where they had to shave it down to close up her cuts, her own fluttery snorts into a smiling Ken’s lap. The world had not fallen because of a few rowdy teenagers and a dirty stranger. He smiled as he drained the last drops, throat still dry – he was more dehydrated than he thought. He moved to get up, but Ryuu caught his elbow. “And where do you think you’re going, huh?”

Daichi raised his eyebrows at Ryuu’s exaggerated sneer. “To get more water?”

Ryuu yanked him back down on their rock and stood up himself, snatching the empty waterskin. “You ain’t gettin’ up until Yahaba’s got a minute to check you out,” he snapped. “I ain’t believe for a second you got outta there without a scratch, especially not if you lost a fucking tooth.” He pointed at Daichi. “Sit.” He sat. “Stay.” He stayed. Ryuu gestured between their eyes with two fingers, glaring as he stumped to the water barrel. Daichi smiled once his back was turned, scratching his sweaty scalp.

Rocks slid behind him. Everyone jumped, but the familiar whistle of Seijoh’s scouts calmed them just as quick. The rest of the guards were back from their search, skidding down the cliffside with earthbending, the two waterbenders clinging to Shinji and Takahiro. Issei was in the lead, hair its usual mess and dust on his armor as he hopped the last few feet to a stop, nodding to acknowledge Tooru and Hajime’s presence. “Good. Y’all are back.” He glanced over at Daichi and lifted his chin. “Hey.”

Daichi curled his fingers in a wave. “Hey.”

“Bossman!” Takahiro jumped down behind Daichi, shaking him by his shoulders hard enough to make his teeth (minus one) rattle. “Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes!” The other guards crowded around for a head pat or a back slap until Ryuu stormed back to scatter them like sparrow-crows. Daichi smiled and laughed with them, reassuring them that he was fine and there was no need to worry about him, thanks for looking, but inside, something sharp had started to gnaw. Issei had breezed by to report to a waiting Irihata after that ‘hey’, back straight, no worry lines on his forehead. Daichi didn’t think that he expected them, that he expected something. Sure, they may not know each other as well as him and Ryuu, or Hajime and Tooru, but they were still something. Even if Daichi hadn’t thought about him at all during the stressful, life-threatening events of the day. They had never pretended to be anything serious, never acted like this… whatever this was, that it was going anywhere important. So why did he care?

Ryuu threw the full waterskin back at him, squeezing his shoulder harder than needed as he sat back down. He scooted so their thighs touched, goading him into drinking more with worry lines pressed between his thin eyebrows. Daichi drank, watching the people move around them, burying himself in his thoughts. Let them think it was shock, even if Tooru was acting like nothing had happened and his Hajime-crutch was a normal part of his movements. Hell, he might actually be in shock. Who knew? He just drank, let Ryuu pull his fingers through the snarls in his hair, and stared at the back of Issei’s thin, wide shoulders.

They managed to pull it together to move down the road to dip back below the treeline before dark. The biggest struggle was Happy, who was right on the border of injured and inconvenienced where an owner who loved her less would put her down and move on. Tooru had had her since he was little, though, and Ken would bite off his own arm before willingly harming an animal, so they shuffled some of the goods around and coaxed her into a wagon with sugar cubes and a few earthbending shoves. Tooru sat with her, still the doting parent, and Shigeru sat with him, trying to pull his shattered knee back together, too strung out to even fly into one of his frenzies about it. Daichi wanted to lend a hand, but it felt crowded, or private, like he was a cow-pig in the sheep-goat herd again. One of the other guards had stopped his jaw’s bleeding through normal methods of gauze and pressure, the cloth clamped in his gums, although the raw empty spot still throbbed. But Tooru was their priority, and maybe he finally understood that.

When they re-camped in the trees, they set a perimeter guard out for the first time in a week or so – they had gotten a little sloppy in the quiet solitude of the mountains. Although that was a duty that Seijoh took on themselves, Ryuu volunteered for first watch. He threatened Daichi with pain of an asskicking if he got up before his return, but even he couldn’t hover too much when Irihata sat on Daichi’s rock and waved him off. The guard captain, unarmored and smiling, handed Daichi a bowl of fish stew before digging into his own.

Daichi liked Irihata. He didn’t make unreasonable demands of his crew, was easy to approach with concerns, and had a sense of when people could sort out their own messes and when to step in and knock heads. Still, he couldn’t say he knew the man all that well, or that they were close enough for Irihata to join him for camp dinner without a reason. They slurped their stew in silence while Daichi waited, avoiding his open sore with his food as much as he could.

“Tooru hates this story,” Irihata said when they were on dregs. “But we’re not too far away from where he was born.” Daichi tilted his head as Irihata swirled his bowl around, watching the contents swish. “I told the lady she shouldn’t be travelling, but she was always stubborn to a fault.” He smiled into his bowl. “I’m still surprised I was able to sway her daughter to stay behind, but she’s a little farther along than the lady was.” He sighed. “He was an early birth, such a tiny scrap of a thing. I guess he’s right, that that’s all I’ll ever be able to see him as.” The pet flying fox-squirrel swooped over to land on his arm and sniff at his bowl. Although they usually shooed it away from people food, Irihata let it dig its tiny hands in and pull out a potato chunk as he scratched it behind its tufted ears with a thick finger. “I try not to worry, I know he doesn’t like it. But… I was there the last time this happened to him.” His fingers flexed, the little left one tapping on the rim of the bowl. “So. Thank you, for keeping him safe.”

“Well, you’re welcome, but you don’t need to thank me.” Irihata looked up, and Daichi smiled. “He kept me safe just as much as I did him. He’s not a newborn anymore.” He stretched his legs out, feeling the burn in his calves. “Tooru can take care of himself.” The fox-squirrel dug more in Irihata’s bowl, broth drops flying around. Daichi chuckled. “You don’t need to worry.”

“Just because I don’t need to doesn’t mean I won’t.” Daichi chuckled, and Irihata’s eyes narrowed with his wrinkles’ smile. “Did he really talk his way out of it?”

Daichi sighed. “Well, it was more good timing than anything,” he admitted. “But we would have eventually.”

Irihata hummed, scratching his chin. “Anything else you have to add on to Tooru’s… story?” Tooru himself had reenacted their capture and release earlier, Shigeru as the unfortunate recipient of the shoe to the face. Daichi grinned.

“Oh, well, he hit the main points.” The snap of Tooru’s head to the side, the jerk against his shoulders and bound wrists. “That’s all that really needs retelling.” He stood and held out his hand for Irihata’s bowl. “I’ll take that and wash up, if you want.”

Irihata smiled and handed it over, the fox-squirrel trading forearms to dig its tiny claws into his skin. “Have it your way. Bossman.” Daichi snorted hard enough to feel his throat tighten, and Irihata guffawed, slapping his knee, chest heaving. Daichi wrinkled his nose at him and left him to his cackling, taking their still-being-scavenged food bowls to the fire with the washpot over it, dumping out the contents into the fire. The little shit shrieked at him, but he just shook it away to bother someone else. He watched it fly around the quiet dark camp, drivers talking in low voices or licking their wounds. Tooru’s story recounting was done, so now the only people circling him at his repose against Happy’s fluffy side were Shigeru, still fussing over his knee through its ice enclosure, Ken still fussing over Happy, and Hajime. He wasn’t exactly curled into Tooru’s side like a child who missed their mother, but the arm Tooru had him captured with and the fingers in his hair didn’t leave much room for question, even as he kept up a civil conversation with Shigeru about the knee. Daichi smiled as he rinsed out his bowl.

“Cute, huh.” His back muscles tensed as Issei stopped beside him to dry and stack the travelware in its box. “Something happen out there to them?”

Daichi shrugged, jaw clenched. “Just some sense.” They washed and dried in silence for a minute, Daichi as tense as a lutestring, but this wasn’t the kind of guy he was. He sighed and rubbed at his face with a wet hand. “Look, we need to talk.”

Issei’s hands stopped. “That’s never a good thing to hear.” Daichi grunted and gave up on the dishes, retreating to his secluded rock, Issei trailing behind and seating himself next to Daichi’s hunch. “Prison changed you,” he jibed, and Daichi almost laughed. Instead, he just sighed and stared at his dirty toes, worrying his raw spot with his tongue. “You know, to have a talk, you need to-”

“This isn’t going anywhere.” He looked up in time to catch Issei’s eyes widening as his mouth snapped closed. “Not- not that. I mean us.”

Issei blinked. “There’s an ‘us’?” He frowned, tilting his head. “I wasn’t aware you wanted there to be an ‘us’.”

Daichi huffed. “Yeah. I wasn’t either. But I just…” He stared at a fire across the camp, flames leaving trails in his eyes – a wet kiss on his forehead, a hand scratching through coarse hair, nine fingers curled into his palms. He spun the hairband on his wrist round and round. “I guess I realized that that’s kind of what I want. To be in an ‘us’.”

Issei went quiet for a long while, long enough for the flickers of sensory memories to dull out into just sense, the bug hums, cracking tinder, low talk, animal shuffling. Tooru’s laugh on the wavering breeze. Issei sighed, jerking Daichi out of his daze. “Well. I can’t really help you with that one.” He clapped Daichi’s shoulder as he stood, long legs unfolding from their bend. “Let me know if you ever change your mind. It’s been fun.”

Daichi peered up at him, his pale face orange and black in the fire and night. “Just like that?” Issei’s face tightened into a smirk that wasn’t directed at him.

“If I’m reading this correctly, you’re the one breaking up with me.” Issei shrugged, hand falling away – breaking up? Was that what this was? “I can’t really afford to worry about anyone more than who I’ve got right now.” His heavy eyes narrowed. “I do have five siblings to feed, after all.”

“Five?” Daichi worried his empty socket. “I didn’t know you had any.”

“Guess there’s a lot you don’t know about me.” He flicked out two fingers from his forehead in a quick salute. “See you later, bossman.” Daichi watched him meander back to Takahiro’s side, who looked up from his conversation with a driver to grin at him and pat the dirt next to him. He looked away, at his laced fingers between his knees, tongue worrying, worrying, worrying.

Chapter Text

Business started back as usual in the morning, even if more than a few people were banned from drill by a hollow-faced Shigeru. It took Daichi and Tooru teaming up to make him take his own advice, pouting and fussing as he rolled up his tent. Before long, they were packed up and on the road west, Happy still in the cart and Tooru still with her. His knee wouldn’t be able to support weight for at least a week, according to Shigeru’s rants, although the buffalo-yak was supposed to be on her feet the next day. There were a few moans as they started moving, but it was a quiet morning overall, everyone on alert for another attack, weapons at the ready. Ryuu slid into Daichi’s side as he sharpened his belt knife, which was almost a short sword. Daichi glanced over at his concentra­­­ted scowl. “Yes?”

“Noticed you ain’t try to sneak off with the skinny slimeball last night.” Shink, shink, shink. “Takin’ a break?” Daichi sighed, head hanging down. The shinking stopped. “More than a break?”

Daichi waved a hand, rein end flopping around. “I guess I sorta- dumped him.” Ryuu snorted. “I didn’t mean to! We just – well, I guess we wanted different things.”

Ryuu grinned and slapped the flat of his knife against his thigh. “Honey, only you could apologize for accidentally breaking up with a dude and sound like you mean it.” Daichi scowled, but Ryuu sheathed his knife and slung his arm around his shoulders. “He ain’t no good for you, anyhow.”

“So you’ve said.” Daichi bit his cheek on a surge of warmth in his chest and rubbed Ryuu’s head. “Thanks.”

Ryuu raised a thin eyebrow. “Huh?”

“Just… Thank you. For being here.” He let his hand fall down to the back of their bench. “It means a lot.”

Ryuu half-laughed, confusion wrinkling his forehead. “Think you hit your head a little harder than you thought there, bossman. Where else would I be?” Daichi shook his head and looked away, warmth still living in his chest. “Anyhoo, now that the skinny slimeball is out of your life, it’s time to see which one’s gonna be the next one to make a move on you. My money’s on Yahaba, but who knows? Anything can happen.” He launched into one of his chatterbox speeches, meandering through topics like the road through the countryside. Daichi sat back and let him as the warmth in his chest glowed steady.

The caravan picked back up its paces, the ambush an unpleasant hiccup. Happy ended up taking another day in the cart, but no one wanted to try and force her in a third time – not even Tooru. He was still banned from putting weight on his knee, so, as Daichi suspected would happen, he propped it up on Daichi’s lap and bickered with Ryuu instead. He had taken to wearing his stashed-away old stablehand’s uniform instead of the flashy riding clothes from the rest of the trip, saying that these were looser around his swollen knee, but Daichi knew better. He could see the comment about no farmhand dressing like that flashing in his eyes. Of course, Tooru had to do a lot more than wear some drab clothes to fit in amongst the common populace, but Daichi wasn’t going to be the one to break that to him.

Despite the bickering and the multiple people that couldn’t stop hovering over him, Tooru was good company, easy to talk to and not talk to as desired. He wouldn’t stop calling Daichi ‘dear’ when he wanted something, but, well, nobody’s perfect, and it was better than ‘bossman’.

The terrain was rocky and treacherous still, spires of teetering sandstone and gnarled trees holding together landslide scars above and below. They were heading more north than west now, running from summer temperatures to areas where the snowbanks in the shades of distant mountain crags never melted, but glistened white and black against a vivid blue sky. They had stopped seeing other humans on this wild road weeks ago, so it wasn’t uncommon to disturb a herd of marmot-goats on a cliff, or hear the distant bellows of a saber-toothed moose lion echo down a valley. Once, Daichi swore he saw a lynx-bear watching them from the top of a gravel and moss ridge – but it could have been a trick of the light, or a weird rock, and it wasn’t like he had ever seen one before. So he kept that one to himself.

He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to avoid Issei – that’s what happened to all the mangled relationships back at the farm, but it was harder to find a barn to duck behind here. Besides, Daichi didn’t really feel all that different about him – he still liked the way he could shock a laugh out of him, and the silky texture of his hair, and the way he could never tell if he had told a joke or not until Takahiro snickered. Ryuu had said that he wasn’t the type to hold a grudge about this, but it took a few days to work up the nerve to test it out.

One foggy morning, he plopped down across from Issei as they stretched before drill. Issei looked up his knees and blinked. “Mornin’, bossman.”

“Your siblings,” Daichi blurted out before he could rethink it. “How old are they?”

Issei blinked a few more times, touch of a smile falling away as he sat up straighter. “One older, four younger, from twenty-three to fourteen.” He cocks his head. “Why do you ask?”

Daichi huffed and pulled an arm across his chest to stretch the shoulder. “Well, you said I don’t know you that well, so. Only one way to fix that.” Issei’s eyes narrowed, lips parted. “Unless you don’t want to?” Issei smiled, that rare one without ulterior motive. “Before you ask, I’m an only child,” he said, switching arms. “Mama died when I was a toddler, so it’s always just been me’n my dad.”

“Really? You’ve always had an oldest kid vibe to me.”

Daichi shrugged, rolled his head on his neck. “Well, not biologically, maybe, but you’ve met Ryuu and Yuu. They’re just the tip of it.” He pulled his fingers back to stretch the wrist. “They’re just as good as kid brothers.” Issei barked an ugly laugh, and Daichi grinned. “So, siblings. What’re their names?” Issei raised an eyebrow as he reached for his toes. “Yes, I do actually wanna know.” Issei chuckled.

“Oldest sister is Chiyo.” He pulled his heels into a butterfly-stretch, long legs bouncing. “Then it’s me, then Ayano, Azusa, Keiko, and Takaya.”

“So that’s, what, four sisters and two brothers? A little uneven.” Issei snorted, but before he could explain, Irihata whistled them into formation. Daichi waved it off as they got to their feet. “It’s okay. We’ll talk later about what they’re like.” He set up in line by Ryuu, turning his back on Issei’s uneven grin as he twisted the hair at the back of his head into a stub of a horsetail with his stolen hairband.

It took over a week for the bags under Shigeru’s eyes to fade away. Of course he wouldn’t accept any help taking care of his influx of patients (a virtue and a frustration), but, one by one, the injured recovered, until he only had Tooru’s busted knee to fuss over. That was far on its way to being healed as well – well, as good as it would ever be. Shigeru wanted to get his mother to look closer at it when they got to the North Pole, which everyone but Tooru agreed was a smart idea. Still, Shigeru cleared him to walk again when he needed to, although he kept his eagle-hawk eye on him and forbade him from riding or drill, entrusting him to Daichi’s care until they reached the port town that would take them to the North Pole. Ryuu hopped on and off the wagon as his tolerance for Tooru’s chatter fluctuated, but Daichi stayed, an iced knee over his, and talked. Daichi knew that Tooru could small talk with a rock, but he was just as much fun to spend hours talking to as Hajime was to spend hours not talking to.

They stopped a little early one night because of an established campsite by a natural spring, cold as snow, grooves in the dirt layered down for ages. This campsite was as old as the first humans to venture into these mountains, but right now, it was home for two dozen ostrich-horses, a fussy buffalo-yak, and their handlers under an afternoon sky of cornflower and cream.

The sky shifted to cerulean and peach as they set up camp and settled down for an easy evening. Some of the guards practiced hand-to-hand while the waterbenders replenished their stores from the pool around the spring. Instead of having multiple smaller fires, this site was designed for one central pit, complete with metal grate and stone wall around old charcoal. The spring’s influence provided plenty of firewood for the first time in a while, so by the time the western mountains were a silhouette against a blood orange sunset with wisps of yellow cloud dashed like paint, they had a real bonfire going, potatoes in the embers while some of the drivers vanished to find some meat to roast. On early nights like this, it was always music night, battered family instruments and singing voices coming out as the light faded and the fire grew. These kinds of get-togethers were different from the elegant Nakashima dinner party, and yet again from the Sugawara staff throwdowns. This was a relaxant, someone’s saddlebag-brewed liquor circling around as they listened to something besides the bugs and the wind, something human to fill this natural void. Society rules didn’t matter so much with no one watching, so when someone wanted to dance, they picked up the nearest hand to spin around the fire, no matter how wide. More often than not, they were as much practice bouts as morning drill, testing strength and willpower with bared teeth. Daichi preferred to stay out of that dick-measuring contest and watch it all slide by with a cup in his hand, but he usually had company on the sidelines as well.

Tonight, Hajime pulled up a rock by his side to not-talk as feet spun in and out of the firelight. He tugged on Daichi’s puff of a ponytail. “Getting a little shaggy there.”

Daichi grinned. “And you’re one to talk?” He swiped a hand at Hajime’s bedhead-wild spikes, but he ducked away, laughing. Daichi sat back on one hand, the other twirling around his ponytail. “I dunno, I kinda like it.”

“We’ll see how long you go before it drives you crazy.” He mirrored Daichi’s actions, sitting back on his hands and watching the fire and the dancers, kicking his heels to the music. Issei spun by, twirled by a breathless Shinji, weak with laughter. “You have a very interesting way of ending relationships,” Hajime commented, voice low enough to rumble. Daichi shrugged.

“Just because we stop sneaking off together doesn’t mean I don’t like him anymore. He’s an interesting guy.” He took a swig from his alcohol cup – offered it to Hajime, who took it. “Can’t say I regret it.”

Hajime raised an eyebrow over the cup rim before handing it back. “Sneaking off not your style?”

Daichi swirled what was left around, then downed it. “Guess I just prefer a good conversation over a good lay.” Hajime snorted, grinning wide enough for the shadow of his dimple to dig in. Daichi smiled back, light buzz playing with the light on Hajime’s face and the trees beyond. He knocked their shoulders together. “Don’t you agree?”

Before he could answer, Tooru limped around the circle to fall in the half-a-human space between them, making them scoot to give him room. He had a high flush on his tanned cheeks and a glaze in his eyes as he slung his arms around both their necks with a hiccup. “My long-lost twins are having fun together without me!”

Hajime sighed while Daichi rolled his eyes. “Just because our hair was the same for a while doesn’t mean we’re secretly related,” Daichi explained for the twentieth time as he unlooped Tooru’s arm. “And you’re drunk.”

Tooru pouted as his freed arm latched around Hajime instead, good leg thrown over his lap. He didn’t have Shigeru’s ice pack on right now, but the rolled-up leg of his pants still showed some amount of swelling and reddish patches where it had sat. “And you, sir, are rude and disrespectful.” He burrowed into Hajime’s neck, the arch of his back forcing Daichi away. “Dance with me,” he begged into Hajime’s cheek. “Come on.”

“You’re so needy.” Hajime smoothed Tooru’s hair back from the band he had taken to wearing to keep it out of his face. “You can barely stand, love.”

“But I’m tired of barely standing,” he whined. “I wanna dance.” Hajime looked over cinnamon fluff to Daichi, eyes pleading. Daichi grinned and shrugged. “If you don’t, I’ll find someone who will.”

Hajime sighed. “Will you shut up if I do?” Tooru perked up and threw his leg off Hajime’s lap, but didn’t let go of Hajime’s neck as he stood, arm around Tooru’s waist for balance. The music wasn’t really meant for slow, romantic swaying, but Tooru led them into that anyway, smile on and eyes closed, humming his own tipsy tune. Hajime played along, as much support as partner, most of his face hidden in Tooru’s shoulder. He reached up and pulled one of Tooru’s strangling arms off his neck so he could hide their laced fingers between them.

They were clueless to their surroundings, but their surroundings weren’t clueless to them. Slowly, the musicians eased off their pace, horn and strings fading from a quick tempo jig to something slow, almost melancholy. The brother drivers who had the best voices in the caravan traded melody and harmony, the words a folk song as old as the campsite, about old true loves and sailing away with them. A few of the others still danced, but most of the caravan stepped aside to breathe, drink, and let them have their moment. Daichi tapped his empty cup on the rock to the beat, watching them sway with a smile.

“Need a refill?” Daichi looked up at Shigeru’s soft question, liquor ball hovering in front of his hands. Daichi held out his cup, and Shigeru spun off a finger to plop into it. He took some for himself and handed the ball off to a passing waterbender driver (well, more like shoved it off with a rude exchange, but the man took it) and sat in Hajime’s empty seat. “Feeling all right?”

“Sure.” He sipped his new drink. “Why wouldn’t I be?” Shigeru gave him a strange look. “What?”

“Just – you’ve been pretty quiet lately, I guess.” He took a bite out of his bubble, swishing it around his mouth. “You homesick or something?”

Daichi blinked. “Actually – no.” He stared down into his cup – this alcohol was more clear than amber, tasteless and strong. “Haven’t had time to be that.” He threw back a mouthful and banged the cup down between his knees, leaning on them and staring into the fire. “I guess that’s weird, huh? First time leaving home and I haven’t been homesick since the first day.”

Shigeru sighed and stretched out his legs, crossing his ankles in front of them. “It’s not that weird. It’s been a rough trip.”

“Has it?” He massaged one hand with the other, fingers dancing. “I don’t have much to compare to.”

“Normally it’s not nearly this eventful, with wildfires and bandits and all.” He shrugged and dropped the last of his bubble in his mouth. “You’ll see on the way back.”

Daichi smiled. “Maybe.” He tried to think of home – the circle of rickety houses, the hillside of tea fields, the stature of the big house – but it kept fading into faces, his dad’s, Suga’s, the other kids their age, Ryuu’s across the fire. Maybe he missed them, but as he looked around the camp at the other tiny conversations, the ragtag band, the circle of rickety wagons and animals, Hajime and Tooru still swaying in place in the middle – this was a kind of home, too. “Either way, we’ll get through it.”

Shigeru groaned. “You have an overly optimistic outlook on life,” he sighed, head falling back to stare at the stars. Daichi grinned and shrugged, thumb rolling into the ball of his palm. He looked down – he had been rubbing a particular spot between the knuckles of his pointer and middle fingers. Suga had a mole there, had since they were small. He shook it out and picked his cup up again.

The song ended in a long instrumental solo; no one wanted to be the one to upset the moment. But a log in the fire popped, making Hajime jump and look around at his audience, who didn’t look away fast enough. His face burned red, and he drew back from Tooru, although not far enough to make him fall. Tooru blinked a few times, like he had been startled out of a nap. Hajime led him away to the edge of the firelight, and the spell was broken. They picked back up into a faster number, and pair by pair, people started to dance again. Even Ken got yanked out of his corner by Shinji (by far the best dancer in the guards), his one eye wide. Daichi caught the scowl between Shigeru’s eyebrows at that before he smiled his widest and asked, “What d’ya say, wanna join ‘em?”

Daichi bit his tongue at Shigeru’s round blue eyes, almost honey in the weak orange light, the way his hair curled around his face and the empty spot on his outstretched hand where there was supposed to be a brown spot. He smiled. “Sorry, but I’m beat, I’d probably fall asleep out there.” He rolled his thumb into his hand. “Maybe another time.”

Shigeru’s face fell, eyes narrowing. He flicked Daichi’s forearm with a fingernail. “Imma hold you to that.” He stood and flounced off to drag Akira to his feet without the courtesy of a question, glaring at the world. Daichi sighed, bowing his head to watch his thumb rub at a phantom mole on the back of his hand. He huffed, drained his cup, and left to crawl into bed.

A few days later, they rounded an innocuous bend in the road and found the ocean.

“Oh,” Daichi breathed, dropping off in the middle of his sentence to stare at the glittering expanse. “Well.”

“Yeah.” Ryuu inhaled the salt air beside him. “Welcome to hell.”

Chapter Text

Daichi waited until he closed the inn room door behind him and Ryuu to say, “This place is a dump.”

Ryuu barked a laugh. “Right? It’s just the worst.” He collapsed on the rickety bed, dust puffing up. “But we ain’t ever here for long, so it’s a’ight.”

Daichi pursed his mouth at their surroundings – threadbare sheets, torn and dirty ricepaper on the tiny window, warped wood barely blocking the view of the adjacent rooms. “I think I’d rather be sleeping in the tent.” Ryuu barked again. Daichi dropped their gear bags in the corner and flopped down next to Ryuu, feet hanging off the edge. “A’course, it’s not like the town’s much better,” he mumbled, eyes closing. The bed was lumpy and smelled odd, but it was still a bed.

“One a’the old farts told me years ago that it wasn’t always this gross,” Ryuu yawned. “But ever since the Fire Nation all but shut down sea trade, well, port towns like this went to shit.” He rolled on his side and wriggled up next to Daichi. “Naptime,” he said with another yawn into Daichi’s bicep. “All in favor, say ‘ah’.”

Daichi chuckled. “You go ahead. If I sleep now, I won’t be able to later.” He forced himself up, dislodging a growling Ryuu. “I’ll just go make sure no one picks a fight with a local before we can get out of here.” Ryuu waved him off, already resettling himself on the bed to clutch a pillow instead of Daichi’s arm.

Some of the crew had already started to congregate downstairs when Daichi got there, hounding a dead-eyed waitress for an early dinner. They asked politely when Daichi gave Takahiro a head-slap as he sat with them, settling from ‘rowdy mercenaries’ to ‘disorderly teenagers’. Takahiro grinned at him. “Afternoon, boss.”

“Stuff it.” Takahiro snickered. “I take it this is a warmup for a night out?”

“You crazy? In this town?” Takahiro’s nose wrinkled, lip curling. “There’s no reason to get stabbed for some shitty beer.”

Daichi shrugged. “So what do y’all do here, then?”

“Our jobs.” The waitress finally brought the table a pitcher of water and a stack of mismatched cups, barely batting an eye when Akira bent it out and passed it around. “Oikawa’s down at the docks right now, finding us a boat or two,” Takahiro said as he wiped off the rim of the cup with his sleeve before drinking. “We’ll load up tomorrow, put the beasts of burden in storage, and ship out with the tide.”

Daichi weighed his options as he drained his own water, then said to hell with it and thumped his cup down. “What’s a tide?”

Takahiro blinked at him – frowned. “Kunimi!” he snapped. Akira looked up from where he was inspecting the grain of the table. “The bossman here needs an ocean lesson!” Akira sat up straight and tucked some hair behind his ear. Takahiro nudged Daichi’s side with his elbow. “The kid here was practically born in a boat,” he explained. “He’ll tell ya way better than us lowly rockheads ever could.” Akira stuck his tongue out at Takahiro, who thumbed his nose in return. Daichi shoved Takahiro’s face away with a squawk under his palm.

“Don’t listen to him. Yes, Akira, I’d love to learn from you about the ocean.” He smiled as encouraging as he knew how. Akira slid down the bench to the empty spot across from Daichi, dragging what was left of the water pitcher behind his fingers, making a thin ice trough and filling it with the remaining water (stealing what was left of Takahiro’s to top it off).

“Okay, so, this is the ocean, let’s say. If I’m the moon…”

What started as an informal lesson on the tides developed into a neverending lecture on ice, water, the cold, and Water Tribe customs. Every waterbender in Seijoh was his teacher, rotating out as their area of expertise rolled up. Akira knew the most about the ocean and how to navigate it, but Yuutarou was born and raised in the fancier part of the Northern Water Tribe, so he could tell Daichi what kind of welcome to expect when they got there and how they would be spending their free time. Two of the drivers were arctic hunters in a past life, and they described a hostile tundra where grass only grew a few weeks a year, the animals living there tough and wily but delicious to eat. Shigeru had grown up around more women than men, so he told Daichi what not to do if one of them interested him (and more than just Daichi listened to that lecture).

Soon, there wasn’t a formal handoff from teacher to teacher, just a crowd of homesick waterbenders eager to talk about their culture now that they were so close, using the table water to gesture and sculpt their world in miniature. Daichi let them, posing as the main audience as other Earth Kingdom natives flickered in and out, Issei and Takahiro and a refreshed Ryuu and Shinji and Hajime and Tooru, who was as much teacher as student himself.

They stayed talking long after the seedy other guests had gone from the dining room and the waitress’s dead eye had shifted to a stink eye. Daichi had to fake a yawn that turned into a real one for the others to realize the time and head upstairs, although the broken-up chatter promised to persist until dawn. As was becoming their habit, Daichi fell in step next to Tooru, as bedraggled-looking as the rest of them with a bag slung over his shoulder. They exchanged a smile. “Doin’ all right, city boy?” Daichi asked.

“Just fine, farmhand.” He counted off on his fingers as he rattled off, “Got water transport, found a stable for the land transport, got the volunteers to stay behind and guard it, got Happy’s tranquilizers so she won’t sink the blessed ship, traded out for enough Water Tribe money to feed you lot, found my extra sheets-” He blinked. “Uh.”

Daichi raised an eyebrow as they waited their turn to squeeze up the rickety stairs. “Thought of everything, huh?” Tooru laughed, scratching behind his ear and looking away, adjusting the bag on his shoulder. Daichi jerked his chin at it. “Those them?”

Tooru coughed. “Ah, no. Just the mail.” He winked, face still a little red. “I’ll let you know if Koushi sent you anything.”

“Hah hah.” Daichi gestured for Tooru to go up in front of him. “You’re subtle.”

“My greatest asset.” Tooru took the stairs two at a time and spun at the top, bag thumping the wall. “Sweet dreams, dear!”

“Asshole,” Daichi muttered before yelling up, “Enjoy your sheets!” Tooru held out a rude gesture behind him before he vanished down the hall. Daichi shook his head and followed at his own pace.

Ryuu was already inside, face-down on the dirty bed, moaning and groaning. Daichi pushed him around until he could fit too, both of them agreeing not to see what lay underneath the top layer. It was already dark inside, the one candle provided never lit. Ryuu curled around Daichi when he laid down himself. “Hey,” he muttered, hiding in Daichi’s hair.

“Hey.” Daichi tugged out his hairband so there was more to hide in. “You okay?” Ryuu shrugged. “Nap ruin your sleep?”

“Nah.” He threw an arm across Daichi’s chest to yank him closer. “Just… feeling the distance, I guess.”

“Ah.” Daichi squirmed so he could rub Ryuu’s scruffy head. “Well it’s a pretty big distance.”

Ryuu grunted. “You’ve been doin’ so good with it, though, even though it’s your first time out.” He buried his face in the pillow. “I miss Yuu,” he admitted to it. Daichi let that sit, slowing his hand and curling his fingers from the calloused pads to his more sensitive fingertips. Ryuu sighed. “Not sayin’ I ain’t havin’ a good time, or that you’re not great,” he mumbled. “But I’ve never spent this much time without him, y’know?” His fingers curled against Daichi’s ribs. “I’ve tried not to talk about it. It’s my problem.” Curled into a fist. “But I didn’t expect it to hit this hard.”

“There’s no reason you have to hide that,” Daichi said. “Did you really think I wouldn’t listen?” He pressed his temple to Ryuu’s ear. “I miss them all, too.” Ryuu clung harder. “Don’t be afraid to talk,” he muttered. “That’s what I’m here for.”

Ryuu didn’t respond verbally, but he did burrow closer and pat Daichi’s side with his fist. Daichi smiled and ignored the sniffle hidden in the pillow.

As promised, they spent the entirety of the next day unpacking the wagons into three boats, each a different size and cut, but all with pulled-leather bottoms and bright blue sails. The sailors themselves had the dark skin and blue eyes that Daichi had forgotten weren’t just a trademark of his waterbenders, but their entire race. Tooru was everywhere, hair wild and smile wide, bossing everyone around and laughing loud enough to carry over the whole dock. It was an infection that spread beyond the sphere of Seijoh, the cold sun and dirty harbor seeming a little brighter under his onslaught of cheer.

They said goodbye to those staying behind (including the ostrich-horses) and cast off around mid-afternoon. Watching the world fall away behind them was mildly terrifying, but the distraction of the ocean – all of its elements, the smell, the taste, the brush of the wind and the blinding seafoam – kept him busy enough to push it away. It was as much fun to match last night’s lesson to the reality as it was to experience the reality himself.

It was a four day and night fast sail to the Northern Water Tribe, with help from the waterbenders, both sailor and guard. Once they were out on open water, the sailors took a wedge formation with the biggest of the tiny fleet at the point, the others falling alongside.

The drivers and guards had split up among the boats, but as Daichi and Ryuu weren’t guards, they were lumped into the lead boat with Tooru, Irihata, Hajime, a few of the older drivers, and a sedated Happy. (The last thing they needed was an unhappy buffalo-yak on the rampage.) Daichi stayed at the seat he had been planted at during the endeavor of departure, but once things settled down, he got to his shaky feet and wobbled from the rear of the boat to the front, swaying with every lean of the ship.

Tooru was belowdeck, talking over details with the captain, but Hajime was still on top, leaning on the railing and looking out over the water. Daichi joined him, more falling into the ship’s side than anything. Hajime looked over at his heavy arrival and caught his arm before he could go overboard. “Whoa there.” He held on until Daichi got his feet under him. “Having problems?”

“First time on a boat.” He smiled, and Hajime let go. “At least I’m not nauseous yet,” he said, gesturing to where Ryuu was clutching the railing for a different reason. “You make it look so easy, even though I know you’re in the same place as me.” He tapped Hajime’s arm with a fist. “What’s your secret?”

Hajime looked away and back over the water, ears a bright red. “Tooru taught me.” He bent his fingers back, one by one. “A long, long time ago.” He smiled, tiny and hidden.

Daichi bit his tongue on a grin. “You enjoy Tooru’s extra sheets last night, then?”

“Yeah, they-” He glared at Daichi. “How did you…”

“He let something slip.” Hajime’s entire face down to his neck turned strawberry red. Daichi laughed, head thrown back. Hajime punched his arm. “Sorry – you’re just so easy to mess with!” Hajime’s face twisted as he tried to keep his scowl on, but it was too much. He burst into snickers, leaning hard on the railing, feet off the deck. Daichi pounded his back. “I won’t tell,” he wheezed between laughs. “I know y’all value your secrets.”

“You’re a bad man, Daichi.” He wiped his eyes. “But, thanks.”

“Sure.” They calmed down and went back to staring over the water, blue and white flashing by under a pale blue sky. “It’s really – spectacular,” he muttered, words mostly caught by the wind. But Hajime nodded anyway.

They stayed at the railing for a while, staring over the ocean and not-talking. Daichi wanted to offer help to the sailors, but nothing they were doing looked like something an earthbending farmhand could pick up fast. If Akira was in his element, swinging around the sails and skating between the boats on an ice sheet as Seijoh’s messenger, Daichi was firmly out of it. One of the things he had learned on this trip was that wasn’t always such a bad place to be. It was odd to walk on a surface he couldn’t tell the make of, but, well, he had to get used to it at some point. Maybe it was time to break in those boots in he had bought back at the wall.

They heard Tooru before they saw him, bright laughter echoing coming up the ladder from below. Hajime kept his attention firmly on the ocean, but his white knuckles and high color gave him away. Daichi hid a smile as Tooru’s boots clacked against the wood towards them.

“There you are!” He fell with a lean of the boat to crash into Hajime’s back, arms braced on either side of the railing, face in his neck. Hajime shoved him off with an elbow to the gut. Tooru pouted and hid on the other side of Daichi from the ‘rude’ Hajime. “No respect at all,” he sighed.

Daichi shrugged. “Didn’t know you deserved any.” Tooru gasped as Hajime snorted on a laugh.

“Fine!” Tooru cried, nose in the air. “Then I guess you don’t deserve this!” He pulled out a curled piece of misshapen paper from an inside pocket, folded in half and sealed with a rising sun over a field in wax. “Koushi stuck it in his letter to me,” he explained in his haughtiest drawl, “and like a polite human being I hadn’t opened it, but-”

Daichi snatched it from him while his eyes were closed. Tooru cracked an eye with his smirk. “Why do any of us put up with you?” Daichi asked as he stuck the letter in his pocket before it could blow away.

“Good question,” Hajime growled behind him. Tooru ignored it if he heard it and beamed.

“Because I’m charming and rich, I’m sure.” Akira skated by a few feet below them, as graceful as a dolphin-seal, wind keeping the hair out of his face for the first time since Daichi had met him. Tooru snapped his fingers. “Oh, if you can ever catch him, can you tell Kunimi to bring Matsukawa over here later? I need him.” He tucked some wayward hair under his hairband. “It’s high time for this to go.”

Daichi rolled his eyes. “And you couldn’t have done it back when we were on solid ground?” Tooru beamed, as oblivious as he was devious. Daichi sighed and pushed off the railing. “Have it your way. I’m gonna go check on Ryuu.” He stumbled down the planks, giving Tooru space to slide into Hajime’s side and lean closer.

That night, when everyone was asleep but the nightwatch sailors above, Daichi opened the seal on Suga’s letter and read by the moonlight shining through a crack on the floorboards above that flickered over his hands as his hammock swayed with the waves.

Daichi-

Stars, it’s good to hear from you! We’re missing you quite terribly here. I guess no one really knew all the little things that you took care of until you didn’t anymore. Of course we miss you and not just your chores! Even Yuu is quieter than normal, which is saying something. Your dad sends his love.

As for the harvest, it’s looking just fine. We’ve started work on adding on another end to the processing barn! You know how crowded it got in there at peak time. Papa doesn’t think we need it, but I talked him around.

So, how are you? I hope Tooru’s boys aren’t treating you too unkindly – he promised they wouldn’t. Have you had to fight anyone? Seen any Fire Nation yet? Oh, please come back to us in one piece!

About the necklace… thing. Saeko said it was good luck to carry something from home with you when you leave for the first time. She actually got pretty upset when she learned I hadn’t given anything to you before you left – you know her. So she taught me how to make these, since she made Ryuu one years ago on his first trip. You can wear it or not, it’s up to you, but at least I can tell her I sent it!

Come back soon!

Kou. Suga.

PS – I miss you, too.

Daichi held up the string of woven hemp to the light, yellow and brown beads embedded at uneven angles, pattern a little lopsided. He tied it around his neck, stuck the letter in a side pocket of his gear bag, and rolled over in his hammock (as it would let him) to try to sleep.

Chapter Text

It took them the prescribed four days to sail across the ocean, watching stray chunks of ice grow into dangerous blue icebergs, pushed aside by the waterbenders and the tide. After the initial adjustment to the constant sway of the ship, Daichi found he liked sailing, although he spent as much time rubbing down Ryuu’s seasick back at the railing as he did admiring the view. The local sailors warmed up to him enough to give him a fresher picture of what to expect when he got to the North Pole – the food, the costumes, what a glacier was. It still sounded alien to him, but then again, mountains had seemed alien to him a few months ago. He could adjust.

They were met on the fourth day by a welcoming committee of waterbenders piloting low barges, gliding in to meet them from the misty white line along the northwestern horizon just a little too thick to be seafoam. Their rented ships and crew were known to the waterbenders, so the three ships were ushered past the cleared water towards the blue dip in the white wall, just as impressive as the manmade one in Ba Sing Se with a different color scheme. Like at Ba Sing Se, there was no visible door, but twelve-foot-thick ice, opened by benders on the top of the wall and in the barges working together. Daichi was frozen at the bow of the ship at the display, trying not to blink so he didn’t miss a drop. The wall was shut behind their tiny fleet once they were inside, then the ocean raised to the ice dock halfway up the wall, the city dropping into view. It was an eyecatching display of stylized reliefs, a right-angle maze of canals, tiers upon tiers of nothing but water in all its forms.

Daichi only had a few seconds to marvel before the jostle and noise of the unloading process kicked his breath back into him. He joined the barely-organized chaos of sailors, guards, and the few drivers who hadn’t stayed behind on the mainland, snapping jokes with old and new friends, shoes squeaking on the ice of the dock.

Locals stopped to watching the proceedings, bundled up to the chin even though it was dead summer back home. Daichi watched them back out of the corner of his eye, a gaggle of dark faces and blue eyes between white fur accents arranged along a white staircase that connected the docks to the city. A middle-aged man with several shadows appeared at the top and waved down at them with a loud cry. The people parted as he skidded down the steps, crying, “Nobuteru!”

Daichi blinked; Irihata grinned and met him at the base of the stairs to clasp forearms. “Chief, it’s good to see you again.” Irihata (whose first name was more than ‘Mr. Nobu’, apparently) stepped open to glance at the paused crew behind him. “I’m sure you remember the boys,” he said with a wave at them.

“Oh, sure, sure!” He hopped on his toes, eyes flicking around the newcomers. “But where’s Li?”

“Ah.” Irihata caught Tooru’s eye and gestured him forward with his chin. “New blood, Kusorak.” The chief blinked as Tooru stopped in front of him, feet set and arm extended, Hajime his own shadow at his left shoulder. He beamed and took it, looking Tooru up and down.

“Well, haven’t you grown up! It’s been a month’a news since I’ve seen your face!” Tooru smiled, white around his eyes. “Finally coming in your own, huh?”

“Yessir.” They let go, Tooru falling back to parade rest, no sign of a bad knee in his straight back. The chief propped his hands on his hips and turned that sunbeam smile on the standing crowd.

“Well! It sure is good to see some new faces around here, and I’m lookin’ forward to meeting everyone better tonight, once y’all’ve cleaned up and settled in!” He traded another grin and shoulder clasp with Irihata. “I’m sure Allaq will take some good care a’ y’all!” The shadow at his right side, a younger man with a scarred face and pulled-back dreads, raised a hand at his name. The other shadow tapped the chief’s arm, and he sighed with an exaggerated roll of his head. “Oh, fine, I know, I’ll be right there.” He winked at Tooru. “I just stopped by on my way to another meeting I’m late to, but it was so good to see you!” He waved at them again before following his antsy assistant’s lead back up the stairs.

His departure broke their audience’s silent vigil. The two crowds merged, old friends yelling greetings over heads, Irihata and the Allaq fellow directing others to store the goods out of the elements, families reuniting. Ryuu found Daichi as he watched three large men with Yuutarou’s nose tackle him into a snowbank, his squeak muffled under the laughter of the polar bear-dog pile. Daichi laughed, Ryuu slapping Daichi’s shoulder as he howled. He wiped his eyes and calmed down to say, “Our end’s all tied up here, boss,” he said, “the boys got it covered. You wanna roll out?”

Daichi tilted his head. “Where to?” Ryuu flapped a hand at the stairs and the city beyond. Daichi gestured for him to lead, and they wove through the crowd to the edge, Ryuu hopping along like he wasn’t slipping with every icy step like Daichi. “How do you do that?” he asked when they were out of the people. Ryuu stopped halfway up the steps and spun to watch Daichi stumble – laughed. He held up a foot so Daichi could see the hard pebbled bottom of the boots he had been wearing since the icemelt town.

“They make ‘em special like this. We can get you some so you stop looking like an ostrich-horse colt learning to walk. No one makes outerwear like these turtle-seals up here.” He hopped back down to keep pace with Daichi and give him an extra support to fall on, grinning. “You look like a turtle-seal out of water yourself, man. What happened to Mr. Rock Steady?”

“Suck it, Ryuu.” Ryuu barked a laugh. They reached the top of the stairs; Ryuu offered his arm with only a little humor in his wink. Daichi grumbled and took it as they followed the path of the wide central avenue into the city, a white sidewalk along a flowing canal that he had no idea how it wasn’t frozen itself. “So, where are we going?” he asked when he could think beyond his feet.

“First off, new shoes for the turtle-seal, because being your crutch ain’t gonna be funny forever.” Daichi huffed. “Then it’s all fair game. They always throw a party for us the first night, but we’re free to see the sights as we want while they do their negotiatin’. And there’s always a sight to see.” Ryuu winked and saluted at some girls sitting on the edge of a bridge above, who giggled and waved. “And you’re an earthbender, so that’s a double plus!”

Daichi scowled. “There can’t be any real earth around for miles.”

“Maybe, but you can make a fortune fixing pottery in this town.” He shook Daichi’s arm. “C’mon, relax! This place is awesome!”

“If you say so.” He looked up at the four-story buildings above, carvings of fish and wildlife engraved around open windowframes. “It is stunning.”

“Trust me, the look is nothing. The dudes here know how to go. Tonight’s shindig is all formal and fancy food and all that, but every other night will be a lot more drinking and a lot less speeches.”

Daichi hummed. “Sounds like a good way to waste a month, I guess.” They took another staircase up a tier in silence, Ryuu waving and Daichi nodding at staring passersby. “So where do we sleep? Do we sleep?”

Ryuu chuckled. “’Do we’ is up to you, but they put us up nice. The Oikawas have a house up here – Kindaichi’s family keeps it up when they’re out.” He flapped his free hand. “Some old favor some chief did for Oikawa’s great-grandfather or whatever. What matters is that it’s nice. No more inn bedbugs for us. All the locals stay with their families, so there’s plenty of room for us foreigners to spread out.” Ryuu glanced over at him, eyes smiling. “You’ll feel better once we get some food in you and you can walk again.”

Daichi huffed. “I’ll feel better when I don’t have to wear shoes at all.” He wiggled his toes in their unnecessary confines. “No wonder the waterbenders were so grouchy back in the mountains. Next time I’m staying on the mainland with Ken.”

“Uh-huh.” They went up another staircase, then crossed the delicate ice bridge to the other side. “I’m pretty sure there’s still a guy who makes shoes down this way. Let’s start small and work up to abandonment.” Daichi wrinkled his nose, and Ryuu tugged on his ponytail, laughing.

The night’s party was just as fancy and stilted as promised, with multiple courses of salty food and a speech by a local official between each one. Daichi did learn something of the social structure by watching the proceedings, but he had no one to whisper commentary to. All of Seijoh was spread out along the long, low tables between the locals, kneeling on thick furs as they were grilled for news of the outside world. Daichi got placed in the middle of a group of hunters a few years older than him that thought farming was a cute, made-up story about a foreign way of life, so he just hummed and nodded along until dessert ended and dancing started. The hunters filtered off to find their wives, joining the loose circles around the sunken roasting pit that still smelled of bull turtle-seal. The first dance was a group one, the inner circle women and the outer men, weaving together and breaking apart like the seaweed at their gates, flutes and drums from behind the waterfall above them keeping time.

Daichi watched the dance from his raised seat, sipping on their weird tea as the patterns swirled in his tired eyes. Some of the caravan troupe was in the circle, their teals and pale faces stark against purples and dark, Tooru a bright flicker at the center, but not everyone joined the dance. Hajime observed from an empty table like him on the other side, hood pulled up so only his frown was visible. Daichi smiled, refilled his tea from the pot on the table, and meandered around the back of the tables towards him. His feet were still unhappy in his newer shoes, but at least he didn’t fall on his face as he passed the table with the chief and his family, his two teenaged daughters bickering around his unfailing smile.

Hajime looked up at the crunch of ice and didn’t quite smile at him. Daichi nodded as he sat down beside him, folding his feet to the side. “Doin’ all right?” he asked. Hajime shrugged, looking out over the dance floor.

“Remind me to steal some a’y’all’s tea before we sell it,” Hajime muttered, shoving his cold cup away. Daichi laughed.

“I’ll see what I can do.” He followed suit, pushing his cup past plates of crumbs and sitting back on the furs. It was late, but it was also summer. This far north, the sun never really set around the solstice, the extended twilight of white midnight hanging over them. It was just enough light to make firelight useless, but not enough to be helpful in seeing. Daichi looked out over the buildings laid out below. The party was on the open parade grounds in front of the palace that crowned the city, the rest of the town radiating out from their vantage point, soft blues and shine shot through with dark blue and glitter of the canals. The walls of the glacier were the sentinels around them, looming and always visible. This high up, they could see past the front wall as well over the ocean, washed-out ink dotted with whitecaps that flowed into the weak arctic sky, colorless and cloudless. “There’s no way this place is on the same earth as home,” he breathed.

“It might not be.” Hajime stretched and yawned. “Looks like they’ll be at it a while,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “Wanna run away and go to bed? I’m done with this.”

Daichi grinned. “Won’t Tooru have something to say about that?” Hajime punched his arm, and Daichi laughed. “Okay, okay, teach me your sneaky ways, O Silent One.” Hajime snorted, shaking his head as he got to his feet, hood falling back to show his dimple as he helped Daichi up.

“You must’ve had too much ice wine, boss.” Daichi didn’t bother to say he hadn’t touched the carafe of it as Hajime led the way along the side of the party, staying in the shadow of the wall. “C’mon, it’s time for you to meet the Oikawa house. And I thought their Ba Sing Se one was wild.”

Daichi tilted his head at Hajime’s back. “I didn’t know you had even been to the Oikawa house there.” Hajime stumbled; Daichi caught his elbow. “You okay?”

“Fine, just – ice.” He grunted. “Nah, just heard stories. But I’ve got a vivid imagination.” He threw his hood back up and led them out of the party undetected. Daichi sighed and let it go.

Daichi woke up in the morning slow and disoriented. His bed was too soft after months of hard ground – it had taken him ages to fall asleep at all – and the status of the sky outside gave him no clues as to the time. Ryuu wasn’t in the bed or even in the room, which should have been a relief after two months of his noisy sleep habits but it just made it too quiet, only the wind at the window for company.

He floundered in his slippery fur bed to sit up and look around. The room had a lot of nice, expensive things – mostly things Daichi would never use or didn’t know how to use. He and his filthy gear bag slumped on a fancy chair stood out like grass on the tundra. He rubbed at his face and yawned, throwing back the fur-blanket and fishing in its folds for his shoes so he didn’t faceplant on his way to the bathroom.

He was somewhat awake and put together by the time he followed his nose downstairs to the kitchen. His body hadn’t woken up too late, judging by the blank stares on the few faces he found there – that, or the party ran far later than he expected. Issei shoved a teapot down the old hardwood table at him when he sat down. Daichi nodded and found his own cup, staring at the plates of what was probably food in the middle of the table. The sharp look of the older woman by the hearth fire prompted him to chance it, so he took one of the salted meat strips to chew on. “No drill today?” he asked the room through it.

“Fuck off, bossman.” Daichi stopped chewing (there was so much fat on this meat) as Takahiro smashed his face into the tabletop, just missing the thrown soup spoon from the fire’s direction. “How’re you not hungover?” he moaned into the table.

“Didn’t drink enough,” he said with a shrug, finally working the jerky into submission and swallowing. “Where’s everybody else?” he asked, tearing off a smaller piece.

“Probably in bed, where I should be,” Takahiro groaned. Daichi patted his back and smiled at the two guys with Yuutarou’s nose across the table. The bearded one winked over his bowl. “What even happened last night?”

“Aw, baby, don’t tell me you forgot.” Issei tugged on Takahiro’s hair with a smirk at the rest of the table. “I thought we had something special-” Takahiro elbowed him in the gut, and he moaned more than the hit was worth. Beard chuckled; his brother sneered.

“Bite me, Issei,” Takahiro told the table, ears as red as his hair. Issei gave his head one last pat before backing off, eyes squints.

“Sounds like you’ve got your work cut out for you, Matsukawa,” Beard said, putting his bowl down and standing up. He came around the table to extend an arm to Daichi. “Don’t think we get a chance to really meet yesterday. I’m Kio, Yuutarou’s brother.”

Daichi clasped forearms like he learned on the boat ride up. “I figured out the brother thing,” he said, running a finger down the bridge of his nose. Kio’s blue eyes crinkled. “I’m Daichi. Sawamura. I took Yu- Nishinoya’s place, if you remember him.”

Kio laughed and propped his hands on his hips. “Now how would anyone forget that bastard?” Daichi grinned. Kio jerked his head at the door. “Well, I should probably get on, people to defend and all.” He flicked a salute at the men at the table, spun his squawking mother around with a smacking kiss on the cheek, then ducked out the kitchen door. Issei sighed on the other side of Takahiro, and Daichi was very familiar with that particular sigh. The brother growled behind his food until his mother slapped his head with her ladle; Daichi slurped his tea, then cleared his throat.

“So, you must be Iglauk, then?” he asked, powering through the thick air with a smile at the leftover brother. “Yuutarou talks about you a lot.”

His hard face softened, although not much. “It’s Igaluk, although not a bad try for a southerner.” He flipped stringy hair from his eyes. “Yuu talks about me?”

“All of you, really. He missed y’all.” Igaluk smiled – badly. “Where is he, anyway?”

“Probably getting coddled upstairs by Keru’s wife.” He dumped the last of his food in his mouth, and said as he chewed, “I sho’ prob’-” Whack. He swallowed. “I should probably head on out, too, gotta market stand to tend.” His chair scraped the ice floor as he stood, but he paused when Daichi raised a hand. “Yeah?”

“Can I tag along? I think most of my guys are gonna be useless today.” He gestured at Takahiro, now snoring into the table, and Issei, draped over Takahiro’s prone back with his face buried in Takahiro’s shirt. “And I’ll be useless trying to navigate your city alone.”

Igaluk’s face twitched again, but stopped when his mother lifted her ladle. “A’ight, but don’t get in the way, and I ain’t helping you if you fall behind.” Daichi shrugged his acceptance and went to dig his parka out from the line of them by the front door.

The market was near the dock they had come in on the day before, spread out in the alleys and along the smaller docks that framed the main one. Even with a guide, Daichi did almost get lost a few times as he stopped to stare at the architecture. Although Igaluk kept threatening to leave him, he also kept backtracking to grab his sleeve and yank him on.

Daichi knew from Yuutarou’s stories that the youngest of his three older brothers hopped around jobs and friend groups a lot, never settling down in one place for long. The bearded one from breakfast was the next oldest and the best warrior in the tribe (if his idolizing baby brother was to be believed), while the one he hadn’t met yet was the eldest and set to inherit their parents’ stewardship of the Oikawa house with his young family. It was both odd and nice to connect scattered anecdotes to faces – to know he was being carted around town by someone who once tried to bring an iguana-seal home as a pet. He hid a smile from Igaluk’s scowl behind the fur of his parka collar.

Daichi smelled Igaluk’s workplace before he saw it, the sharp herbal scent he had come to associate with Shigeru’s gear wafting down the alley. It was tucked into a nook between two storefronts, precious old wood tables catching flakes from the drying plants hanging upside-down overhead. Igaluk ducked behind the booth – yelped. “Ow!”

“You are late,” a cracked old voice snapped. “Late gets hit.”

“M’not that late,” he growled. Daichi ducked into the shadows of the front of the stall, eyes adjusting to the dim light.

Behind the rear table, Igaluk was sulking and rubbing his head while a woman half his size and four times his age smacked his shoulder with her cane. He yelped again and jumped away. She waggled her cane in his nose. “Useless boy! I don’t know why I hired-”

Daichi cleared his throat and stepped forward into her rheumy range. “Sorry, ma’am, that’s my fault.” He held up a hand. “I’m new here, and Igaluk was kind enough to show me around on his way here this morning.” She scowled at him, wrinkled face drooping with it. He bowed. “I’m Daichi Sawamura.”

“Hmph.” Her red nose wrinkled. “You are with those Oikawas, then?” He nodded.

“Yes, ma’am, but I’m new with them. This is my first time up here – my first time away from home, actually.” He smiled his best at her. “I apologize for keeping your help from you.”

She narrowed her eyes and considered him for a long moment before thumping her cane on the ground. “Don’t do it again, boy.” He nodded in concession as she barked orders at a stunned Igaluk, who snapped out of it and hopped to obey. Daichi looked around for a minute or so, but he could read an atmosphere. He moved to the outside front of the stall to consider the wares on display for passersby. He brushed a mitten over a crack in an urn – took it off to touch with bare fingers. It wasn’t earth, not really, but it was enough to each the ache he didn’t know he could have when he closed up the fissure.

Someone gasped a few yards to his right. He looked to it and found a teenaged girl buried to her almond eyes in furs, a half-filled basket clutched to her chest. He smiled. “Hey there,” he said.

The rest of her face lifted out of its fur hiding spot. “That was…” She blinked the wonder away. “Was that earthbending? I always thought it was…” She gestured with one hand. “Bigger.”

“It’s multipurpose.” He put his mitten back on. “I felt the same way when I first saw one a’y’all waterbend.” Her eyes crinkled, freckles hiding in the folds. He stepped to the side and out of the middle of the alley. “I’m sorry, was I in your way?”

She shrugged. “Not particularly.”

“Princess Malina!” Igaluk crashed out from the crack behind the stall, herbs in his hair. “You’re early!”

Princess? Daichi raised his eyebrows, but she just nodded, humor still not making its way to her mouth. “I got a quick start today,” she said, lifting to her toes to pick a sprig of rosemary out of his hair. He shook the rest of them out, face flushed, and she pressed a knuckle to her mouth. The resonant croak of his boss crashed him back to the real world, and Daichi bit his cheek against a laugh as he scrambled back to his post, shedding apologies. The princess glided around Daichi to the customer front, twirling the rosemary before dropping it in her basket. She chatted with the shopkeeper as Igaluk wrapped up a large herb bundle in twine, her quiet voice low enough that Daichi only caught an occasional word as he fixed more pottery and dodged more walkers.

“And tell that witch Pipaluk Yahaba to pick up her own herbs sometime!” the old lady snapped as a parting shot. Daichi perked up as the princess came back out into the open.

“Yahaba?” he asked, and she paused. “Like Shigeru Yahaba?”

She turned and evaluated him with a sharper eye. “Oh. Of course.” She hitched her basket on her hip. “Shigeru is her son. I’m her apprentice.” She frowned with just a wrinkle of her nose. “Healer’s apprentice and princess may not seem like equal positions, but I think they’re just as important.”

Daichi opened a hand. “Since you’re the first one I’ve met of both, I think you have the better opinion on that.” He smiled to her surprised blink. “But anyone who puts up with a Yahaba daily has to be some kind of royalty.” She looked down and to the side to hide a smile. Daichi could feel the heat of Igaluk’s glare skewering him from the dark confines of the stall, but he would make his explanations later. For now, he fell into step beside the princess as she continued on her market stroll. “So, how does ‘princess’ work here, anyway? I mean, I know they introduced you and your- sister?” She nodded. “Well, they introduced y’all like that at the party last night, but there doesn’t seem to be a king, or a court, or anything I’ve been told goes with princesses.”

She stared into her basket. “I’m the chief’s daughter, and as such I have specific obligations.” She tucked some hair back into one of the heavy braids that framed her face like a coronet. “We had another word for it, once, but it was lost in the common tongue. So now it’s just princess.”

“Sounds complicated,” Daichi said with a chuckle. “Would people get mad if I called you just Malina?” She shot him a look with that same eye-only smile. “Either way, I’m Daichi. Nice to meet you.” She bobbed in a dipping step that passed as a curtsy without slowing her pace. He looked around at their current market location. “So what’s a princess doing in the dock market?”

“Replenishing the infirmary stockroom. Someone has to do it, and part of my agreement with Madame Yahaba is that she doesn’t treat me different for being a princess.”

He didn’t ask whose end of the bargain that was. “Of course.” The conversation lagged into an easy silence. Daichi kept pace beside her, keeping an arm’s length of distance and his hands clasped behind his back. At the next cross-street that didn’t involve vaulting a canal, she made to go right, so he stopped and bowed what he hoped was a bow for a princess. (Tooru kept trying to teach him the differences in rank, but it kept breezing out of his head when he needed it.) “It was nice to meet you, princess,” he said, keeping on straight.

“Wait.” He paused mid-step. She rocked on her feet, basket swaying. “I’d like to learn more about earthbending. Sometime.”

He smiled. “I’m sure Shigeru will invite me over to meet his mom pretty soon. We can talk about it then, when we have more time.” He waved. “I’ll see you then?” She cursty-bobbed, then spun on her heel and continued on her way, long skirt fluttering where it escaped from the end of her coat. Princesses who bought groceries. This town was weird.

Daichi wandered for a while after that, lost and okay with it. He was obviously a foreigner, and in this small town culture even more cut off than any remote mountain village, it didn’t take long for people to approach him with blunt questions. He had purposefully left the purse of his and Ryuu’s allotted spending money from the Sugawaras at the house, but Ryuu had been right about his bending being profitable. A leaking jug got him a free cup of their strong tea; a thin-bottomed ceramic baking pan got him three buns full of some type of seal meat; a shattered ornamental figurine got him a bear-walrus tusk inlaid with storytelling carvings to take home to his dad. Someone people were hesitant to talk much with an outsider, but most were starving for a new face and thirsting for chatter about something other than the weather. By now he was used to being the newcomer in town, but the stark visual difference between the dark-skinned Water Tribe natives and his central Earth Kingdom pale skin was new. It was fun, being a novelty, and everyone was willing to explain basic principles of their culture when he asked with only curiosity.

He had gotten back to the heart of the market, only a stone’s throw from the dock he had shipped into, when familiar colors flashed through the uniform crowd. “Dear!” Daichi sighed and braced himself as Tooru threw himself at him, slinging around Daichi’s neck. “I didn’t expect to see you around here today!”

“I think I was the only person in that house without a hangover. I had to get out before I got thrown up on.” He looked around. “Where’s Hajime?”

“Oh, probably hiding in a polar bear-dog den from the wind. Poor lad can’t handle a little snow.” Daichi smiled and peeled Tooru off of him so he could breathe again. Tooru let him, bouncing back to a respectable amount of personal space. “So-”

“Oikawa!” The smile on his face froze. Another teenager, this one a boy with long silky hair and slightly lighter skin than the usual Water Tribe member, ran up to make their conversation a triangle. “We weren’t done yet!”

“We’re done when I say we’re done, Tobio-chan,” Tooru snapped back with as much sugar as Daichi had ever heard him muster. “Don’t you have a seal to scrub somewhere?” Tobio shook his head, ponytail swinging, and Tooru heaved a dramatic sigh. “Dear, this is Tobio Kageyama. Tobio, Daichi,” he introduced them in a flat tone, staring at the clouds as his hand flopped about. Tobio grabbed Daichi’s forearm with an octopus-squid grip under a heavy, intense gaze. Daichi returned the gesture, eyes flicking to Tooru. Tooru glared back.

“Hello,” Tobio said, barely blinking. “My family handles external trading for the tribe. We’d love to do business with you.”

Daichi slapped Tooru’s arm down before he could hide his face in his hands. “Ah, no, I’m just a tagalong, no external trading here.” Tobio just blinked at him, still gripping Daichi’s arm. “It’s nice to meet you anyway,” he said. Tobio released him at that, and Daichi tried not to rub at the fingermarks probably bruised into his forearm. Daichi glanced at Tooru. “I thought the plan was not to do any dealing until tomorrow?”

“I’m not!” Tooru cried over Tobio’s open mouth. “I just had an unfortunate parasite while I was inspecting the competition!” He sliced a smile at Tobio, who didn’t notice that it was supposed to hurt him. He just frowned, thought lines furrowing behind his bangs.

“Oikawa, I told you, I already know this market, we can get a head start-”

“Blah, blah, what an ungrateful little chatterbox you’ve become!” He flicked Tobio’s forehead, who jerked back with a startled blink. “No idea when you should listen to your elders!”

Daichi pinched his nose as they bickered like five-year-olds, watching the skin around Tooru’s eyes tighten and Tobio’s temples turn pink, words tangling his tongue up. He sighed and plopped a heavy hand on Tooru’s shoulder, smiling at Tobio. “I’m sorry, I have to kidnap Tooru for a bit,” he said, trying to keep his tone even. “I’m sure we’ll catch up another time.” Tobio ground his teeth, lips pressed thin, but Daichi dragged Tooru away before he could find his voice again, Tooru making faces behind Daichi’s back. He kicked him and hissed, “You could have warned me there was another Takeru up here.”

Tooru huffed. “What, and deprive you of dad-ing me?” Daichi shook his arm before shoving him away. “Tobio-chan’s just a little sniveler,” he pouted, nose in the air.

“He’s not the only one,” Daichi muttered. Tooru gasped, but Daichi ignored it. “Do I need to track Ryuu down so he can beat you up again?”

Tooru exhaled, long and loud. “Maybe later.” He locked arms with Daichi as they left the market at a sedated pace, his feathers un-ruffling one at a time until they were on a residential street that was silent except for Tooru’s hum. “Tobio always makes me a little- irritated,” he apologized without the word ‘sorry’. Daichi snorted.

“Immature, more like.”

“Rude,” he bit, but it didn’t have any teeth in it. His shoulders relaxed as he looked up at the crystal sky. “Let’s just walk,” he sighed. Daichi patted the hand on his elbow.

Chapter Text

Seijoh got to spend that first day in the Northern Water Tribe being lazy and hungover, but the next morning, Irihata dumped them all out of bed before what-should-be-dawn to troop over to the armory to tailgate off the local drill – even Daichi and Ryuu. The cold walk over didn’t wake Daichi up or brace him for the day, but just made him more tired and irritable that he had been dragged from his bed to punch people he didn’t know. The friendly greetings and quick catch-ups some of the older guards and drivers exchanged with the locals suggested that this hellish adventure was normal for the caravan – but did it have to be so far away from the Oikawa house?

The armory was a network of caves carved into the side of the glacier itself, a badger-mole’s maze that glowed blue in the torchlight. It echoed down the uneven halls, which made the grunts and yells of drill seem bigger than a few dozen tired men going through the motions. Allaq directed the drills, Irihata at his side to glare the Seijoh boys into submission. He yelled and snapped more than Irihata, but Daichi could already feel the burn of muscles he didn’t know he had being stretched with the different routines. The local warriors were friendly enough, but there was an underlying professional rivalry tension that caused a few more bruises and lumps than necessary.

After two months of on-the-job training, Daichi could hold his own in a fight, but it wasn’t in his blood or his nature. He did everything but sigh in relief when Allaq called the halt and released his men to their duties. Irihata gave a little speech about behaving themselves and making good choices to his boys, then let them loose with a final “see you at dinner”. Daichi followed them back out of the glacier so he didn’t get lost in the maze, but once they were back in the open, he split off from the group, hoping to take another people-meeting walk. Issei noticed him hanging back, though, and hung back with him. “You okay, boss?”

Daichi shrugged. “Just needed to clear my head.” He glanced back at the hole in the ice. “It’s – loud in there.”

“Yeah.” Issei kicked a patch of dirty snow in a corner, scattering it down the thin ledge running along the glacier and around the city at top-tier level, invisible from below. The rest of Seijoh blew to the four corners as they stayed up there and watched, friend groups splitting off to their respective interests. Daichi’s eye caught on the bright line of sunlight glinting off the top of the seawall. “You know,” Issei said, “the fortress isn’t a bad place to clear your head, if you know the right way to get up there.”

Daichi smiled. “And I’m sure you do?” Issei winked and gestured Daichi on.

‘The right way’ took them along that high ledge, which Daichi’s distaste for heights found very distasteful, and along an outer staircase to a dip where the wall and glacier joined. It had become a break area of sorts for the wall lookouts, with discarded dice, old bones, and a lost hat littering the person-deep inlay. Some waterbender had carved a few windows to the outside in the thinner walls here, size ranging from a peephole to a windowseat. Issei swung onto one, straddling the ledge with one foot dangling over stories-away open water. Daichi sat on the floor like a sane person at the other side of the window, propping his chin on his crossed arms and looking out at the view without visible reminders of the drop below.

It had taken some poking and prying on boring stretches of mountain road on Daichi’s part, but he had succeeded in cracked the code of Issei’s head. He still didn’t know everything – his parents were off-limits beyond the fact that they were dead, as was much of his life before he found refuge in Ba Sing Se with his siblings at age nine. However, Daichi now knew about those siblings, their names, interests, jobs, what Issei and his oldest sister had gone through to provide for the four younger, that Takahiro was more than a work friend, but a family one. In return, Daichi talked about his dad, how they had handled his mother’s early death, his cousins-or-closer roots at the Sugawaras. Once Daichi pushed past the sly looks and smooth pickup lines, Issei Matsukawa was just as confused and damaged as the rest of them. Daichi wasn’t curious anymore if his mouth tasted different with secrets shared between them. He felt they were better off not knowing.

Issei was also practiced in the art of not-talking. They sat together at the window over the ocean, faces turned into the cold salt breeze, long enough for two sets of wall guards to come and go on their breaks, before Issei sighed. “It’s always so quiet up here.” Daichi nodded, and Issei leant back on the side of the window, still staring out at the waves. “Taka never likes that. A city is supposed to be loud and busy and packed like spider-rats to count as a city to him.” He closed his eyes. “But I’ve never minded.” Daichi nodded again, but Issei didn’t see it, lost in his own head. “There’s a lot of things Taka grumbles about on this trip,” he continued. “Sometimes I wonder why he even comes at all.” He smiled, facing into the wind. “But I’m glad he does.”

“It’s probably to watch out for you.” Issei cracked an eye, but Daichi just shrugged and looked back out at the ocean. Issei sighed, head knocking back on the ice, and their brief conversation lapsed back into silence.

Daichi and Issei split ways once their stomachs started to growl louder than the wind. Daichi headed back down to the dockmarket to see if he could fix a dinner set or a vase for a free breakfast. When he got to it, it was already crowded – even more than it was yesterday – and buzzing with the prospect of new material. He frowned and pushed through to the center of the noise and found Tooru, coat hanging open and hair tousled, talking to five people at once amidst nice displays of objects Daichi was used to seeing wrapped up in the back of rickety wagons. The flea-mongering merchanting had begun. Daichi shook his head and turned to leave him to it, but Tooru glanced up and saw him before he could escape. He beamed and waved Daichi over, putting the attention of his entourage on Daichi as well. Daichi sighed and obeyed, dancing around boxes and barrels to his side. “Yes?” he asked, arms crossed.

“How good of you to join us, dear,” he crooned, and Daichi tried to keep his grimace off his face. Tooru turned his beam on the group of older men waiting on him. “Men, this is Daichi Sawamura, the representative from the Sugawara estate here to help me!” Daichi’s eyes widened, but Tooru clapped his shoulder before he could run. “If you have any tea questions, talk to him, not to me!” A few hungry sets of eyes honed in, and a cold rush spun through him.

He tugged on a fur tail hanging off Tooru’s coat, leaning over to hiss out of the corner of his mouth, “You’re dead to me.”

“Oh, just ramble about the farm for a while and buy me some time until the cavalry arrives,” Tooru hissed back. “Just don’t agree to a sale until I can teach you about the conversion rates.” He shoved Daichi away and into the waiting arm of a tall and skinny trader with a long horsetail down his back.

The man pumped his forearm, a wide smile morphing his long face and throwing Daichi into memories of Tadashi. “Welcome, welcome! It’s always so wonderful to meet someone who cares about tea as much as my clients do!” Daichi blinked and nodded, head still caught up on what a ‘conversion rate’ was. “So, do you have that delectable rose white blend from last year?”

Daichi shook his head to try and clear it. “Ah, well, I’m not sure what we brought last year, but there is a rosehip tea…” He spun around, eyes flicking through the array of goods for the gold sun on a brown field – there. “My stuff’s over there – ah, follow me?” The man clapped his hands together and stuck to Daichi’s heels as he climbed through the merchandise to his boxes.

When Daichi stood straight from digging through a box for the tea in question, there were three other faces beside the older Tadashi-like fellow, waiting for him to speak. To sell. Well, he may have never been the front of the business before, but he knew the back like his blood ran with it. He cleared his throat. “This is the one you’re looking for, but if you like that, this pomegranate one here is made pretty similar and gives the same effect…”

Hours later, the flood of potential customers, curious windowshoppers, and endless questions were told to come back tomorrow to begin the real bargaining. Daichi helped Tooru and his assistants – a mix of Seijoh and a few locals – pack up the displays against sticky fingers and place it under blanketed guard for the night before heading their own ways home.

Four of them went back to the Oikawa house directly – Daichi, Tooru, Hajime, and Irihata. Tooru and Hajime fell back, Tooru doing everything he could not to limp after a busy day on his feet but insisting that they didn’t need to slow down on his behalf. Daichi and Irihata ended up together at the front, Irihata’s hands clasped behind his back as their steps aligned. “Nice work today,” he said.

Daichi blinked. “Me?” Irihata nodded. “Work? But I just talked about the farm like Tooru asked. I didn’t do anything.”

“You did business.” Irihata fixed him with a firm but smiling eye. “To you, you may have just been talking shop, but to them, to these people, you’re a window into a world they’ll never get to experience. When there’s a story involved, it’s easier to sell the product.” Daichi frowned, and Irihata grinned. “You’re a natural salesman, Sawamura.” He laughed at the face Daichi pulled. “Oh, it’s not as much of a curse as the boys would have you think,” he said through his chuckles. “In this job, you have to cover both captain and merchant, after all. I’ve crossed that fence my fair share of times.” He waved a hand in the direction of behind them. “The family, they’re the face of it, and they’re the final word for sure, but no one person could handle all that we do in the time that we have without some help, despite how Tooru might overexert himself to try.” He smiled. “He’s a lot like his father like that.”

“Really?”

Irihata hummed. “I’ve never met a man, or a family, so hard-working. They push themselves twice as hard they ask their staff to – it’s why they’re so devoted.” He let Daichi go in front as they single-filed past a group of middle-aged couples out for a stroll, then picked up the conversation on the other side. “It’s not so common to have such low turnover in a group of mercenaries, especially such a mixed bag as this.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” Daichi shrugged with a tilted grin. “Guess I don’t have much frame of reference.”

“You’ll get it.” They were in sight of the Oikawa house now, the teardrop family emblem woven into the window carvings and over the door. Irihata clapped Daichi’s shoulder. “You should help Tooru out tomorrow, too. It’ll be good for you.”

“If you say so, sir.” Irihata laughed and held the round front door open for him to pass inside.

Even though everyone had spent the day roaming the city on their own terms and schedules, they managed to all converge on the Oikawa house at dinnertime, even the locals staying with their families in their own homes. Instead, they brought them along, the women helping Mrs. Kindaichi in the kitchen with a lot of laughing and clanging. The men clumped together throughout the ground floor of the house, feet up and ice wine poured. After a day of talking, Daichi’s throat was dry and sore, so he sat on a couch in the corner and watched everyone, how they interacted, the parents and siblings of well-known faces putting context for where his friends came from.

The last one of the group to reappear was Ryuu, gusting in seconds before Shigeru’s mother and her tight bun rang the supper chimes. There wasn’t enough room for everyone at the battered table in the kitchen or the fancy table in the dining room combined, so some of the younger folk found perches on counters or stools. Daichi and the two youngest of the Kindaichi brothers dragged the couch over to the kitchen door so they could listen to the talk, even if they would have to yell to participate.

Daichi waved at Ryuu when he had his plate and was looking around for a seat, scooting over to give him just enough space between him and Yuutarou. Ryuu’s mouth quirked, and he danced around legs to fall into the cushion, making the three already sitting clutch their food before it could spill. He stretched out, groaning, as the two brothers glared at him then went back to their conversation. “Man, it’s been a long day.” He used his knife to spear a hunk of salted fish and tear a bite out of it, kicking his feet up on the wall by the door frame they were shoved against.

Daichi did the same and laughed. “Oh yeah? What’d you get into?”

Ryuu opened his mouth – closed it. Chewed and swallowed with a big gulp. “Oh, y’know, this and that.” He cut his eyes at Daichi. “I noticed you’n the slinky slimeball sneakin’ off after drill.” He waggled his eyebrows and took another bite. Daichi shoved his shoulder.

“It’s not like that anymore, you know that.” He twisted the strings of the weird salty vegetable he hadn’t gotten used to yet into a tight ball with his chopsticks. “Actually, Tooru conscripted me into helping with his market trading.” He pulled one of the long boiled leaves out of the pile and slurped it down with a grimace. “And I think I’m going back tomorrow.”

“No shit, huh?” Daichi shrugged. “Movin’ up in the world.”

Daichi’s swirling chopsticks stilled. He stared hard at Ryuu’s profile, his thin eyebrows furrowed and teeth flashing with every chew. “You could probably come along too, if you want,” he said, watching Ryuu’s glower for a flicker. “I wouldn’t mind the help fielding the questions about what kind of plant tea grows on.”

Ryuu gestured with his knife wild enough that Yuutarou jumped away from it. “Oh, you’ve always had a better head for that, I doubt I’d be much help. I can find other things to do.” Daichi scowled.

“Wait,” Igaluk said from Yuutarou’s other side, sitting up fast enough to jostle the couch. “If you’re trading with Oikawa, that means you’ve gotta deal with Kageyama.” Yuutarou hissed, lip wrinkling.

Daichi huffed and talked around Ryuu’s bad mood, “Mr. Kageyama? Well, I saw him talking to Tooru some, but I haven’t been able-”

“No, not the senior, his son,” Yuutarou spat.

Igaluk pushed up on the back of the couch to glare over the two heads between him and Daichi. “The bitch.”

That woke Ryuu out of his funk enough to join Daichi in staring as the normally eager-to-please Yuutarou’s face twisted and red to match his irritable brother’s. “Excuse me?”

“He’s such a – such a bastard,” Igaluk growled, gripping the couch material with shaky white knuckles.

“He’s got no sense, always gotta be right all the time,” Yuutarou snarled, hands choking empty air. “Thinks his form’s fucking perfect even if he ain’t a bender just because Ukai’s his damn uncle and yells about every tiny fucking thing-”

“And he’s engaged to the princess,” Igaluk muttered over his continued growling. Yuutarou jerked a thumb back at his brother with an indignant eyebrow raise.

Daichi blinked as Ryuu jerked. “What?” they said together.

“Bastard don’t even know how good he got it,” Igaluk growled, tipping back the last of his wine cup before shoving to his feet to take his plate to the kitchen. Yuutarou was still mumbling and grumbling about some strict, precocious, unrelenting gifted child they didn’t know. Ryuu recovered from his initial shock and started to egg him out of mumblings into as closing to yelling as he could get, doing what he was good at and riling people up. Daichi ate in silence and listened, shoulder pressed into Ryuu’s back as he gave the odd Water Tribe food a third try. Their wide variety of salted meats was growing on him, but he would probably never understand the appeal of sea prunes.

Daichi planned to corner Ryuu about his weird mood when dinner started to wind down when everyone went off to their respective night activities, but before he could drag Ryuu from entertaining Yuutarou’s bitching, Tooru sat on the arm of the sofa. He draped over Daichi, who sighed and bore it with a, “Yes, dear?”

“Oh, I so love how you know when I want something.” Daichi flicked his nose, and Tooru jerked back with a little offended squeak. “That hurt!”

“Your ego can take it,” Daichi growled.

Tooru stuck his tongue out at him. “Well, I was going to offer you a crash course in Water Tribe economics, but if you’re going to be rude about it, I don’t see the point.”

Daichi sighed, rubbing at his face. “No, I probably need that.” He cut his eyes at a smirking Tooru. “I distinctly remember saying something about a slippery slope a long time ago.”

Tooru laughed, tugging on his ponytail. “Oh, lighten up, you’ll live, and it’s fun.” He snorted at the face Daichi pulled. “I’ll meet you upstairs when you’re done, ‘kay?” he asked before flouncing away without waiting for an answer. Daichi grumbled.

“You should probably go,” Ryuu said over his shoulder. “Not good form to leave your host waiting.”

“Since when do you care about good form?” Ryuu shrugged, and Daichi stood, watching him adjust to the new space. He waited until Ryuu looked at him to say, “We’ll talk later, okay?” Ryuu just shrugged again; Daichi frowned, but there were too many people around to pick a fight right now. He would talk to him later, once things settled down.

Tooru’s ‘economics crash course’ evolved into an engaging lesson on the brief history of international trade, the isolationism of the Northern Water Tribe, the shells that they used as money, and why the Oikawas were the only ones who made the long journey from Ba Sing Se to the North Pole in the first place. It was a lot to take in, but Tooru was a good teacher, especially once Irihata came in to assist and give his experience as context and Hajime as another student to ask questions. Between the three of them, Daichi kept from being overwhelmed, although just barely.

It was much later than it had a right to be when Irihata threw in the towel and called it a night. The chatter lagged with his exit, the long day hitting Daichi like a boulder. The Water Tribe didn’t believe in chairs, only piles of fur and rug-covered straw layered with thin cushions. It was good for talking and low-table living, but not great for sitting up and staying awake. What had started as a dignified kneel was now a stomach sprawl on something wrist-deep and white. Hajime was using the dip of his back as a headrest, his feet propped up in Tooru’s lap as Tooru traced nonsense symbols in the bare skin between his rolled-up pants leg and his thick wool sock, staring blankly at the wall. Daichi watched his hand move with the same blank detachment, rumbles of the town outside and crackles of the fire in the old brick chimney the only noise. He sighed and closed his eyes, hiding them behind the crossed forearms pillowing his cheek.

“Question,” Hajime’s voice said, rumbling through Daichi’s spine to his stomach. Tooru hummed with a lilt. “Why do you hate the Kageyama kid so much?” Daichi cracked an eye to see Tooru’s hand still. “I mean, I get that they do what you do but the other way around, so it’s like a rivalry thing or whatever, but you’re a little snot to the kid. What did he ever do to you?”

Tooru was silent long enough to make Hajime lift his head and Daichi open both his eyes. Tooru’s profile was unreadable in the three light sources of oil lamp, fire, and moon, thumb rolling around the ball of Hajime’s ankle. Finally, he said, voice rough, “I’ve never told anyone this story.” Hajime pushed up to his elbows. “Maybe I was holding a secret over his head, or future blackmail, or being a ‘little snot’, as you so eloquently put it.” He pressed two fingers into the tendon on the top of Hajime’s foot. “But, really, it’s not my story to tell. And I respect Tobio-chan’s mother too much to spread it.” He sighed and laid back spread-eagle to stare at the ceiling.

“When I was about six,” he began, “Mama brought me on my first caravan trip since I was born. I don’t remember much about the trip now, just a lot of dust and wagons and the trees looking a lot bigger. But I remember getting here and meeting the Kageyamas, being told to play with their son and be nice. Back then, Mr. Kageyama still dared to run the Fire Nation gauntlet for his water-run trip to Ba Sing Se, so it was just the moms doing the business, who anyone with sense would tell you were the best parts of both families.” His mouth tightened in a smile. “Mama and Mrs. Kageyama are probably the only two members of either family that actually like each other.” The smile fell.

“Well, either way, they put me in charge of Tobio with his uncle as the babysitter when they went off to market one day. Tobio was four then, and no way was a six-year-old playing with a four-year-old.” He laced his fingers together over his stomach. “Tobio was already a weird kid, and it didn’t help that he took a while to catch on to words. He’s not dumb, no matter how bad he is with people, but it’s like – like he had to learn how to learn how to speak. There was an extra step somewhere.” He shrugged. “Well, anyway. I was six, and I didn’t want to play with some weird quiet loner kid just because my mama told me to, and his uncle was barely over teenager and didn’t want to be babysitting two rich brats.” He paused, fingers drumming on the back of the other hand, swishing the words around. Daichi shifted to face him a little more, burying his hands deeper in the fur below.

“Honestly, I don’t remember what we were fighting about,” he said after a while, voice cracking. He cleared his throat. “Who knows? I just have a bright memory of turning my back on him and my hair catching fire.”

“Shit,” Hajime breathed.

“Of course I screamed, and his uncle came running and drenched me and there was a lot of yelling and crying and blaming.” He flapped a hand around. “Oh, they tried to tell me he used a candle or something, but I knew better. There weren’t any candles at his height, and he’s not that smart.” His flapping hand fell to the side. “I knew he was a firebender.”

Daichi frowned. “How?”

Tooru shrugged. “Oh, they never told me, and I only ever asked Mama, who’s really good at avoiding a question she doesn’t want to answer.”

Hajime grunted. “But you know.”

Tooru smiled without humor, rolling his head to look at Hajime. “You know me too well, honey.” His eyes flicked to Daichi, back to Hajime. “Mrs. and Mr. Kageyama hate each other, everyone knows that around here. They’ve always hated each other – so much so that she tried to leave before the marriage could happen, but her little brother found her and dragged her back home from spirits-know-where.” He shrugged. “People don’t think a kid knows what it means when they talk about how close a birth was, and they don’t, but they remember for when they do.” He rolled back to stare at the ceiling. “I pieced it together from there.”

“And you’ve kept this a secret since then?” Daichi asked. “You?”

Tooru’s nose wrinkled. “I have my moments, dear.” Daichi huffed and got a mouth full of fur for his trouble. Tooru shrugged. “Most of the people in my life back home don’t know them well enough to care about gossip, and Mama was able to disguise my little-kid slipups as me being that little snot.” He sighed, a whiff of dramatics. “Pretty soon, Tobio-chan was making himself unlikable even without people knowing that tidbit, and I had learned he wouldn’t just get bullied a little bit if they did – he’d be kicked out, or killed. I decided to let him dig his own grave.”

“You’re such a weird little bitch.” Tooru squeaked. Hajime sat up all the way, crossing his legs and rubbing at his eye. “So, we’ve got another firebender,” he grumbled. Tooru nodded. Hajime sighed and flopped back onto Daichi, half-knocking the breath out of him. “Great.”

Daichi groaned and slid out from under Hajime, rolling to his back and climbing to his feet. “Well, that’s a good enough story to go to sleep on, I think,” he said through a yawn.

“You’re right.” Hajime stretched and stood, tapping Tooru’s hip with a foot. “Night.”

Tooru smiled, staying stretched out on the ground. “Night.” They did their married-couple silent communication thing as Daichi puttered around, straightening the furs he had messed up in the evening. Hajime spun away and stomped out to the hall, batting the door-rug aside. Daichi shook his head and followed, but a rustle behind made him pause in the door and look back at Tooru, sitting up, hands loose in his lap. “I don’t need to tell you not to repeat that to anyone,” Tooru told his feet. Daichi smiled.

 “Then I don’t need to tell you that I won’t.” Tooru looked up. “It’s not my story to tell.” He smiled and ducked out. Hajime was hovering just in the shadows down the hall, hidden enough that Daichi could pretend to ignore him, but Daichi didn’t feel like doing that. He sighed and approached Hajime’s hiding spot, leaning in to murmur, “I know you’re just going back in there.” Hajime’s eyes flashed in the dark. Daichi held them with his own. “How many times do I have to tell you not to worry about fronts with me?”

Hajime blinked – swallowed. Clasped the back of Daichi’s neck with a wide hand to drag him down to knock foreheads. Rushed past him back into Tooru’s room, rug batted aside. Daichi sighed and left them to it.

Chapter Text

The next few days whizzed past Daichi without even the grace to let him breathe. Tooru kept him hopping too fast to feel the cold, that aforementioned slippery slope rolling not only the Sugawara tea sales but all of the grown goods into his arms to explain and market. Luckily, Tooru and Irihata didn’t trust him with the final sale for anything large, so he could hand off the real work to them, but he still felt a twist in his gut whenever someone asked a question he only sort of knew the answer to. The evening lessons continued in Tooru’s front room on the top floor of the house, other guards and drivers sometimes stopping by to listen and learn. Yuutarou’s dad and his oldest brother, Keru, proved to be invaluable resources on the current market climate and demand, their steady smiles and broad hands laying out the generations of fashions, trends, and politics that had led them to the current point in time. Between stuffing his head at night and talking it off in the day, Daichi barely had space to notice that he was getting used to an empty bed again, or that Ryuu never showed up to the after-dinner talks, but instead slipping off to who knew where. He kept meaning to corner him and ask about it, but the North Pole was pulling them in two different directions. Maybe a little space wasn’t a bad thing, after so long of being attached at the hip on the road.

It took Tooru a week to sell everything they brought, their slice of the dockmarket dwindling each day as pottery, building materials, metals, art, and dried fruit was purchased in bushels by a hungry population. Daichi’s tea was gone by the third day, but his daisy-chained duties kept him running to the end, packing up shriveled oranges and doling out cinnamon from a bucket into household-friendly jars while he gave recipes to wide-eyed housewives amazed that he cooked at all. He learned that when he told them why, that it had been just him and his dad in the house since his mother died before he really remembered her, they would often pat his arm and press an extra shell-coin into his hand. He had no idea how to feel about that one.

He was fielding the latest sympathetic mother while measuring her dried basil when the chief and his usual entourage made their daily rounds through the market, as regular as the tide. He smiled and waved at Daichi and his customer, who waved back. He still hadn’t learned Daichi’s name, but he was always happy to hear and happy to be around, so Daichi didn’t mind much. Besides, it wasn’t like he had a reason to remember some offhand visitor’s name and face.

The chief stopped to chat with Tooru, who was besieged by Tobio on one side and his short and stout father on the other, so gladly took the excuse to step away. Daichi stole glances as he wrapped up his customer’s spices and handed them over. She caught the direction of his gaze and pursed her mouth, lines to her upper lip digging deep. “You boys look younger and younger every year.” She shuffled things around in her market basket to make room for Daichi’s spices as she asked, “So how is the newest Oikawa holding out? I didn’t think his parents would leave him alone for at least another decade.”

Daichi smiled. “He’s doing fine. I don’t think he’s too young at all.”

“Of course you wouldn’t think that,” she said, patting his forearm. “You can’t even imagine what it’s like to be over thirty.” He grinned and shrugged. She glanced around with narrow eyes and gripped his wrist, leaning in. “I heard he takes one of the guards to bed each night,” she hissed. “Is that true?”

Daichi’s blood ran cold, shoulders tense and breath caught, but the only thing he could do was blink and ask, “Where did you hear that?”

“This city is a sieve for gossip, boy, if you know how to shake it.” She stared hard into his eyes, hers watery blue bright in the sunshine. He looked away, stomach knotting like one of the fancy sail knots he learned on the boat ride up. She let his wrist go and stood back straight, taking the discarded paper-wrapped package and tucking it into her basket. “Well, if you ask me, they need to find that boy a nice girl who’ll put a stop to that sort of nonsense.” She counted out her shell-coins as Daichi fumbled with words, with actions, with trying to figure out what that tone of voice meant, but he couldn’t piece anything together before she finished counting. She dropped them into his hands and stuck her embroidered seal bladder purse back into her basket. She smiled at him, not reaching her eyes. “Have a nice day,” she said with one of the Water Tribe curtsy-bobs. He jerked his head in a nod at her turned back a few beats too late, head spinning.

He planted his hands on the board laid over some crates that served him as a counter and stared down at his knuckles. What was that? Back home, people didn’t care-

No. That wasn’t true. Boys still stared at the girls, while the girls still had eyes only for the boys. Sure, everyone knew that Suga was different, but he was allowed that as the heir and future master. It was preferable over some of the neighbor’s more… ham-handed approaches to management. Still, there was often chatter about what kind of girl it would take to bear it, what the future of the Sugawara family would look like. The staff was small enough that they couldn’t be picky about who the teenagers experimented with, but after so many generations of living and serving on the same land, most of them were cousins in some way, so they often looked to the migrants for new pretty faces. Even Seijoh, as lax and wild as they got in the mountains, cleaned up their act where there were girls to whistle after instead of each other. Of course. Hajime and Tooru hadn’t just been hiding because they were worried what the crew would think about rank crossing. This was bigger than a muttered comment in a dockmarket, but. “Nobody asked you,” he said under his breath, lips barely moving.

A hand slammed down on the board between his fingers. He jumped and whipped his head up to find Tooru’s smiling eyes two feet away. “Space out a bit there, dear?” His stomach twisted more, but he just swallowed the lump in his throat down and smiled. Tooru frowned. “Something wrong?”

He shook his head. “No, no, I’m fine.” He ran a hand over his hair, tightened his ponytail. “What did the chief have to say?” he asked to get those sharp eyes to stop dissecting him. Tooru sighed.

“Oh, just inviting us to have dinner at his place tonight, to ‘celebrate a job well done’ and squeeze some extra tariffs out of us in the process,” he said, waving a hand in the air. He hopped up to perch on one of the crates supporting Daichi’s board-counter, balancing on two sides of the crate with the corner between his spread knees. “He said I could bring whoever I want from the group,” he continued, “so go ahead and spread the word. It’s dinner at the chief’s house tonight.”

Daichi’s mouth tugged up on one side. “Will do.” Tooru fished under his seat in the crate and pulled out a banana leaf wrapped around dried apricot slices, popping one in his mouth before offering it to Daichi. He took two, chewing on one while he flipped the other one over and under his knuckles, a coin trick Takahiro had taught him.

“You’ve got something on your mind.” Daichi looked up from the apricot slice. Tooru’s level eyes watched him, unreadable and neutral, smile only a trace. “Spit it out.”

Daichi swallowed instead, then tossed the apricot in his mouth to buy himself a minute to string words that made sense together. Tooru waited, heels swinging as he ate his snack. Daichi sighed. “What’s Suga like? In Ba Sing Se?” was what came out. Tooru’s legs slowed their swing. “Sorry, that’s out of nowhere, but – I just…” He leant on his counter, combing an eyebrow with a fingernail. “We only ever saw him as the owner’s son, or the future owner. But I guess… I’m learning everyone has different hats. Different ways you think and act in different places.” He sighed again, head hanging. “Don’t – just forget I asked,” he mumbled.

Tooru pretended not to hear that. “He’s a good friend, first,” he said, chewing the words with an apricot. “He’s friendly, well-liked – everyone our age goes to him when they have a question, or dilemma, or just want to talk. He’s easy to talk to.” He banged a heel on wood. “Sure, he can be a little consumed by the society, I guess, but we all have our moments where we spend too long in the Upper Rings without getting checked.” He offered the banana leaf to Daichi again, who took three this time. “He would never say it out loud, but I could tell he liked being out with y’all on the tea farm more than he ever liked the city.” He huffed. “Always more of a country boy.” Daichi lifted his head, but Tooru was looking away, over at a dock with a waterbending barge being packed for a hunting trip. “He talked about you guys a lot,” he said, tone as distant as his focus. “Little anecdotes, stories that made him laugh. He thought of y’all more as family than staff.” He looked back at Daichi. “I always through he had something of a crush on you,” he commented, not asking but definitely leading. Daichi scratched the back of his neck, traced the grooves of his board.

“Yeah,” he said – cleared the rasp out of his throat. “We grew up together. I miss talking to him when he’s not there. He makes me laugh, y’know?” He heaved a sigh, half-chewed apricot heavy in his cheek. He swallowed the lump down. “But there was always… something. Something in the way.” His hands gestured uselessly. “It was never the right time, the right story, he was a Sugawara and I’m just a Sawamura.” He rubbed his nose. “Seems silly now.”

“I understand.” Daichi cut his eyes at him, and Tooru’s eyes crinkled. “It’s easy to get hung up on silly things.”

Daichi exhaled, tension between his shoulders bleeding out. “You’re right.” He scrubbed at his hair – yanked the tie off to redo it. “It’s just – people.”

“People suck.” Tooru shoved the banana leaf in his hands when they were out of his hair. “C’mon, let’s finish up here so I can go groom Happy until dinner so she’ll bite anyone who tries to talk to me.” Daichi laughed at that, shaking the last few apricot pieces into his mouth straight from their leaf container. Tooru hopped down, stretching with a yawn. “I wouldn’t worry much about Suga for now,” he said through it, then shook his hair out. “If I’ve learned one thing about you, Sawamura, it’s that you’ll find a way to solve the problem that I could never predict.” Daichi blinked and opened his mouth to try and respond to that, but Tooru just beamed and bounced away, landing with a hop behind Hajime loud enough to startle him. Tooru laughed as Hajime snapped at him, patting his head. Daichi chewed with a frown. Should he tell them to back off, at least in public? He didn’t think they needed to, but if they were worried about image, if Tooru didn’t want this as his reputation from his first trip…

Hajime, still snarling, yanked Tooru’s coat straight on his shoulders, sliding the fur hood back to where it was supposed to be instead of on his shoulder. Tooru laughed and said something with the word ‘mom’ in it. Hajime cuffed his ear; Tooru yelped and danced away. Daichi shook his head and turned away to leave them be – he had an empty banana leaf in his hands. Tooru had left him with the trash. He scowled and balled it up, throwing it at the back of Tooru’s head, who just laughed.

To Daichi’s surprise, only about half of the caravan answered the call of the chief’s dinner table. Most of them elected to stay home with their families or go out with the local warriors for another night on the town. Daichi was able to drag Ryuu along despite his whining that he wanted to sleep early, citing that he was tired of sneaking food for him from nice places as motivation.

This nice place was the cake-layered palace focal point of the arc of the city, the ice walls old and worn as smooth as the glacier it was carved from. He had admired it from below for a week, but now he and a dozen of Seijoh climbed the final staircase to the top as the sun dipped to graze the ice behind it. Unlike the previous fancy houses Tooru had dragged Daichi into, this one was lacking in wide, open rooms and expensive floor-to-ceiling windows. It tended more towards the houses below it, small gathering spaces and parlor rooms, some with round wood doors, others with fur-rug ones, a few gated in ice only discernable by the blank spot on the wall. Two happy servants led them up more stairs to the fourth floor as they chattered about the furniture. Daichi didn’t really care which Earth King the vase in the corner had been a present from, but lucky for him, the tour was brief and ended in a banquet hall that took up the whole floor, open-aired on the side overlooking the city. Some people already waited there – the chief and his family, his shadows, faces Daichi didn’t know mixed in with ones he recognized from his trading, including Tobio and his mismatched parents.

The chief stepped forward as they crowded up the stairs and threw his arms wide. “Welcome, welcome! I’m so glad so many of y’all could make it!” He stood open so he could address both groups at once. “If y’all are ready, we can go ahead and sit ‘n eat – I’ll talk more later, y’all know me!” A few laughs came from the people who did. They drifted to the scattered low tables around the room, each with spectacular views of glittering ice and ocean, the different people groups comingling as directed and striking up stilted conversations. Daichi tried to catch the eye of the princess he had met in the market – Malina was the younger, he had learned through the grapevine – but she was turned away, listening to some older women chat. He would find a chance to say hello later. For now, he tailed Ryuu to a table on the other side of the room with a mix of men of both Seijoh and Water Tribe, sitting between him and a guy he had talked to on the docks a few times that week. He was friendly in a callous way, so it was easy to strike up an argument about woodworking technique differences between the nations and let the rest of them keep it going.

The food was similar to all the other meals they had been served in the North Pole, just arranged in a prettier fashion. He ate it with the usual perseverance as the locals praised the quality of the chief’s table, trading looks with Ryuu as they tried not to add their comments to that discussion, instead muttering jokes about Tooru’s red face across the room where he sat alone with the entire Kageyama family.

After the last plate was cleared away, the chief stood at his center table and held a hand up until all was quiet except for the wind. He beamed around, slapping his hands to his sides. “Well, I hope everyone had enough to eat!” A general murmur of approval. “I just wanted to talk a minute to thank each an’ every one a’ y’all for working so hard for the tribe, and bringing us all together in the process.” He gestured at the table with Tooru and the Kageyamas. “I especially wanna recognize the Oikawa and Kageyama families, who always do such a fantastic job spearheading the trade every year!” Tooru opened a hand with a smile at the smattering of table-pounding applause, a local style Ryuu appreciated. Tobio and his mother ducked their heads in small bows while his father raised a mug with a grin. “I’d hope for nothing less from my future in-laws,” he added with a wink as the applause staggered to an end. Most of the room laughed and pounded at that, Tobio’s father slapping his stiff son’s shoulder, but Daichi didn’t miss how the younger princess hid behind her draped hair or how her older sister’s nostrils flared. The chief, standing between them and trying to make eye contact with each table, missing it entirely, instead clapping and rubbing his hands together. “Tea and dessert will be around for anyone who wants it. Thanks again for stopping by!”

The party broke as people got up to leave, talk to their friends at other tables, or accept cups of tea that smelled like home from the happy servants who had been attending them all evening. Daichi pushed to his feet and tapped Ryuu’s shoulder as he listened to his other side neighbor talk. “I’m getting tea. You want some?”

Ryuu shrugged. “Nah, I’m-” He froze, sniffing the air. “Oh.” Daichi laughed and rubbed his stubbly head.

“I’ll be back in a bit.” Ryuu nodded, turning back to listen to the rest of his waiting neighbor’s story about quail-goose hunting. Daichi wandered away, waving and greeting those who waved or greeted him, letting his nose guide him to the trays of the proper tea.

There was one with cups still left on it at the chief’s table, vacated now but for the sister-princesses. He smiled and went over, kneeling across the table from them and reaching for the teapot with a smile at their startled blinks. “Good evening, ladies,” he said, pouring two cups out and setting one aside for Ryuu. “How we doing?”

“You know this guy?” the older one snapped at her sister, who shrugged, not meeting his eyes. He tried to hold back his frown.

“Not well. We just bumped into each other at the market a few days ago, but we had a nice conversation.” He put the teapot back and sipped from one of his cups, nodding at the elder. “I’m Daichi, with the Oikawa caravan. It’s nice to meet you.” She just huffed, nostrils flaring again.

Her sister flicked her on the ear, and she flinched away with a hiss and a glare. “Be nice, Kana.” His princess bowed, hair trailing across the table. “Don’t mind Kanoka, she’s just grumpy since she missed her naptime.” Kanoka gasped and tugged on one of the heavy pigtails that hung from Malina’s updo. Daichi hid a smile behind his cup as they started bickering like every set of sisters he had ever known, royalty or not.

He waited until there was a break in the squabble before putting his half-empty cup down and clearing his throat. “So, I’m sorry if this is rude around here, but I think I missed a bit of the news somewhere.” He gave them his best Oikawa-charmer smile. “Which one of you is the lucky fiancé?” Both their mouths clamped shut, Kanoka turning red while Malina paled. His smile fell. “Oh. Oh, I’m sorry.”

Malina shook her head. “No, no.” She put on a smile, the biggest one he had seen on her face so far. “I am.”

He looked between the red-and-white sisters. “Tobio’s not that bad of a kid,” he ventured, brow furrowing. Kanoka opened her mouth to say something to that, but a look from her sister silenced it to a snort. He bit his lip as he refilled his tea and theirs before standing, cup in each hand. He bowed and whispered over the table, “Sorry about that.” Kanoka’s glare didn’t soften, but Malina’s smile shrank to a real one. He smiled back and stood straight. “Nice to see you again, princess.”

He left them to their sister-talk, ignoring curious or suspicious eyes until he was back to his and Ryuu’s now-empty table. Even Ryuu’s chatty neighbor had left, giving him room to sprawl, his crossed ankles on Daichi’s cushion. He knelt behind them and handed Ryuu his cup, who waggled his eyebrows as he took it. “You were lookin’ awful friendly over there,” Ryuu teased even as he closed his eyes and breathed in the steam. Daichi shrugged as he did the same.

“I ran into the little princess in the market right after we got here,” he explained. “Just checking in on her.”

“You’re such a dad.” Ryuu sipped his tea with a tiny ah and a smile. “Fuck, I miss home.” He groaned and sat up straight, folding his legs under him and facing Daichi, frown digging into his forehead. “Hey, how come you ain’t tell me that you met a princess?”

“When?” He raised an eyebrow. “We’ve barely seen each other for ten minutes total since we got here.” Ryuu winced, and Daichi opened a hand. “It’s both our faults. We just got busy, it’s fine.” He smiled. “We could catch up on each other’s goings-ons now, if you want.”

Ryuu rubbed his head, hissing through his teeth. “I would, but…” He frowned and looked around – yanked his attention away from the royal table, where Kanoka was glaring at Daichi over her sister’s head. “Not here?”

Daichi sucked his cheek between his teeth and bit down. “Oh?” Ryuu nodded. Daichi sighed and drained his tea, groaning as he unfolded to his feet. “This better be good.”

Ryuu grunted as he copied Daichi’s actions and led the way to the stairs. “You’re gonna wish it wasn’t.”

Chapter Text

Instead of going to one of their bedrooms in the Oikawa house, Ryuu took Daichi up a back servant’s stair to a trapdoor in the ceiling (Daichi had long gotten over his fascination with hinges on ice) that led to the roof. “Kio showed me and Yuu this last time we were up here,” Ryuu said as he helped Daichi up and out and stuck his scarf in the door to keep it open. “It’s really the only place you can get any privacy in this town.”

Daichi sat next to him on the sloped roof between the brick chimney and a dormer window, tucking his coat under and clutching his knees to his chest. This side of the house sloped towards the south glacier wall, but it was simple to put a cheek on his knee and look east to the ocean. It was picturesque, but he was starting to miss the color green. “It’s weird,” Daichi said to the faint stars, “I didn’t realize how much not living on earth could change me.”

“Well I don’t have the magic hanky-panky excuse, but yeah, I’m always different up here.” Ryuu agreed, shoulder pressed to Daichi’s. “Last year me ‘n’ Yuu tore up the town every day like weasel-wolverines in a cornfield. This time…” He sighed. “I think I got myself in trouble, Dai.” Daichi flipped cheeks to face him, watching the weak sun and moon highlight his sharp features, still for a rare moment. The split mitten covering Ryuu’s knee twitched. “Princesses,” he sighed. Daichi raised an eyebrow.

“Which one? Both?”

Ryuu tugged his knit cap down over his ears and eyebrows, scowling at the horizon. “On my first trip here, back when Saeko and Shimada still came along, I ran into some scrawny girl sneaking a windsurfer inside behind a fisher scuttle and helped her hide it. We started talking, she offered to teach me how to use it, and next thing I knew I was sneaking out on the ocean with her every day.” He sighed. “I didn’t learn Kana was a princess until we were almost gone. She was a duck-stork back then, all knees and elbows. That ain’t how princesses are supposed to look. They ain’t supposed to be taller than me, yeah?” The slight smile faded. “Anyway. I never told no one, at first ‘cause she asked me not to, and later because who would believe me? And I ain’t wanna ruin her life for just a minute of bragging rights.” He scowled. “We didn’t have a chance to talk about it before the Oikawas rolled out, and when we got back to the mainland all the stuff up here seemed…” His hand twisted in the air, threw something away. “Distant.” Daichi nodded. The hand fell to the roof ice. “Next trip up, Yuu came, and the two of us found enough shit to tear up without getting princesses involved, and we just sort of pretended that summer didn’t happen.” He inhaled, held it, then let it out in a whoosh. “Until.”

“Until?”

“I caught her spying on morning drill – oh, the first day we had it up here this time.” He adjusted his seat to lean back on his hands, stretching his legs out down the roof’s slope. “I didn’t recognize her at first – she ain’t used to have that short hair and – well. Puberty did her a good turn.” He coughed, blush stark between his coat collar and hat. Daichi snorted, and Ryuu drummed his heels on the roof. “Anyway! She sure as hell remembered me, and basically blackmailed me into doing her bidding, which this time ‘round is teachin’ her how to punch somebody without breaking her hand.”

“So it wasn’t some checking out the boys thing?” Daichi asked.

Ryuu shook his head. “Nah, she don’t give a shit about dudes, but girls ain’t allowed to learn martial arts up here, bending or normal-wise, and she wants to punch everyone who’s trying to ruin her sister’s life in the face.” He huffed. “I’m the alternative.”

Daichi smiled. “I noticed that she seems to share your temper.”

“She really don’t.” He scratched his nose with the palm of his glove. “When I met her first, she was – wild, but she wasn’t angry. It’s the sister-marriage thing that’s eatin’ at her and makin’ her snippier than Saeko with a hangover.”

Daichi drummed his fingers on his knee, mittens masking the motion. “So why are you in trouble for it?”

Ryuu shot him a look. “Girls don’t learn shit up here, not like that,” he said, “and especially not if they’re something like a princess. Ain’t you noticed that?”

Daichi frowned. “I have gotten the impression that all the frowned-upon things back home are – bigger here, or at least people care more.”

Ryuu grunted. “Yeah, that’s a way to put it.” He sat straight so he could talk with his hands. “Guys do this stuff, girls do that stuff, and if you wanna do something else you might as well go live on an iceberg ‘cause that’s about as cold as your life’s gonna be.” He slapped a hand to his knee. “Back home, you ain’t like someone, you move to the next farm, or you grin and bear it until they do. But there ain’t no ‘next farm’ up here. You piss someone off, you’ll be bitching about them until one a’y’all apologizes or dies.” Ryuu snorted. “Sure, it’s pretty, and if you like it here then it’s great, but there’s no way out. It hurts to watch people get stuck up here. We’re the lucky ones.”

“Oh.” They fell silent for a second. Daichi leaned into Ryuu’s side with a sigh. “I’m glad you told me this.”

“Yeah.” Ryuu pressed back with his shoulder. “Sorry I’ve been weird about it.”

“Apology accepted.” Daichi sighed and shifted so his lean didn’t break his neck. “I’ve been weird too, about this whole trading-merchant thing Tooru’s dragged me into. I didn’t intend to keep you out or anyth-”

Ryuu shoved his face with his free hand. “Stuff it, boss. It’s fine, it ain’t like I like numbers anyway.” Daichi batted his hand away with a chuckle. “Okay, I admit was pissed at first, since they ain’t never even asked the rest of us to sell the shit, but a’course, it’s always been one of the other Oikawas. This little shit’s different.” He glanced at Daichi. “You’re different.”

“Thank you?” Ryuu grinned. “Well, next time, you can help me out instead of gettin’ yourself into trouble.” Ryuu laughed, slinging an arm around Daichi’s shoulders and shaking him. “You plannin’ on doing anything about that trouble?” Daichi asked through his laughter. Ryuu sighed.

“Always gotta bring it back down, huh?” He heaved a sigh, flopping over Daichi. “I dunno, Dai,” he said. “I really don’t know.” Daichi patted his back and watched the sun rise again.

Daichi slept badly that night and woke up with a headache. Tooru and his crew were taking a few easy days before refilling their carts with Water Tribe goods for the return trip, so he couldn’t even distract himself from the pressure at his temples with flea-mongering. Lazing around the Oikawa house wasn’t going to cut it today, so he made his excuses and slipped away after drill to wander, but even that wasn’t helping. The glacier walls felt closer and taller than usual; he wanted out. But first he needed to find Shigeru and get him to work his magic on this headache.

He sighed and massaged his temple, taking another random turn through the ice streets. This place was beautiful, but it was a static beauty. When had he gotten used to a different view every day? He had spent over twenty years stuck on the same property, and now when he stayed put for longer than a week he got antsy to leave. Would it be this bad when he got back home?

That unpleasant train of thought was cut off by someone calling his name. He stopped and looked around – heard it again from above. He looked up at the bridge he was passing by at a tall, skinny silhouette against the white sky. The silhouette ran towards the stairs, so Daichi waited until they ran down them and skidded to a stop in front of Daichi, ponytails swinging. Daichi smiled. “Good morning, Tobio.” Tobio jerked a bow, then stuck out his forearm. Daichi laughed and took it, but said, “Y’know, you don’t have to act like we’ve never met every time we run into each other.”

Tobio blinked. “This is how I always greet business partners.”

Daichi sighed and released Tobio’s arm. “I’m not a business partner, I’m just a farmhand. Just Daichi.” Tobio frowned, but Daichi shrugged it again. “What’s up?”

“I was just – out.” Tobio clammed up, looking away with a light flush high on his temples. Ah. Fight at home. Daichi didn’t need Tooru’s hair story to know that the three Kageyamas were a complicated family – he had the entire Northern Water Tribe to tell him that every day, as well as his eyewitness to daily disagreements between Tobio, his father, and his mother in all combinations as proof.

Daichi put on a smile. “I needed to get out, too. It’s easy to get cramped up here.” Tobio looked up through his bangs, dark eyes flashing orange in the high sun. Daichi patted his arm. “Walk with me?” Tobio’s mouth twitched, and he nodded. They fell into step, meandering away from the glacier wall with the armory and towards the one with the stables and the infirmary. Tobio was tense, hands clasped behind his back and posture too straight. Daichi held in another sigh.

“Were you trying to go somewhere?” Tobio asked too loudly. He cleared his throat and said in a more reasonable voice, “I mean, I could help you get there, if you were.”

Daichi grinned. “Well, I have been meaning to stop in and both Shigeru, I haven’t seen much of him since we got up here. I never thought you could miss fussing, but it has its charms.”

Tobio frowned. “Yahaba? You want to talk to him?” Daichi snorted, pressing a knuckle to his mouth. Tobio frowned harder. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing.” He collected himself and smiled. “If nothing else, he can get rid of this headache that’s been nagging me all morning.”

Tobio’s nose wrinkled. “Isn’t that more of a Mrs. Yahaba job?”

Daichi shrugged. “Shigeru’s just the one I know, s’all. Besides, he’s fixed my head a bunch of times on the road, it don’t take more than a blink.” The frown was stuck on Tobio’s face like he had a slice of lemon stuck in his teeth. “What’s so odd about that? He’s a healer.”

“Not a real one. His mom just taught him a few tricks and keeps him around ‘cause she didn’t get a girl. He couldn’t fix anybody by himself.”

Daichi’s headache was getting worse. “We are talking about the same Shigeru Yahaba, right?”

Tobio raised his eyebrows at him. “Of course, there’s only one in the North Pole.”

Daichi rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand. “What?” Tobio snapped, slowing his walk to match Daichi’s pace he didn’t realize had eased. Daichi ran his fingers through his bangs.

“I think things are different where I’m from,” he said, then groaned. “Of course, we don’t have your glowing water, but healers in the Earth Kingdom are whoever wants to spend their life learning about plants, no matter who they are.”

“Oh.” Tobio’s cheeks turned pink. “Well, uh, here, girl benders learn to heal, and boys learn to fight or work with it. That’s just how it is.”

No wonder Saeko gave up her spot to Yuu when he was still so young. Daichi didn’t say what she had probably said to that knowledge and instead just replied, “That’s interesting.” He looked around at their surroundings. Shigeru had said that he and his mother lived in the infirmary along the opposite glacier wall from the armory, and they were only two canals away from it now. “What about if you’re not a bender?” he asked.

Tobio shrugged. “You find stuff.”

Daichi chuckled. “I’m sure.” He closed his eyes in a long blink, jaw clenching against a surge in his headache. “Some of the boys said you still come to bending training anyway,” he commented, tone as light as his ground teeth could manage.

“Of course. My mother’s family has been waterbending masters as long as Ukai has been a name. My uncle is the current teaching master, and I help him observe at times.”

Daichi’s mouth twitched as Akira and Yuutarou yelled in his head about the angry kid who critiqued their forms and stances without being able to move a drop of water. Well, that last part made sense now. “Well, if you ever need a change of pace, I could give you an earthbending overview, if you want.”

Tobio’s eyes widened as he grabbed at Daichi’s elbow and missed. “You’re an earthbender?”

Daichi laughed and patted his arm. “Sure, sure. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned traveling with this lot, it’s that you can never hurt from learning a new technique, even if it’s not what you’re used to.” Tobio nodded, eyes still wide.

“You would really show me earthbending? I’ve never seen it before.”

Daichi smiled. “Well there ain’t much by way of real earthbending I can do in this ice town, but I can at least show you the stances. They’re a little different than the waterbending ones you’re used to.” A smile tugged at Tobio’s face in an odd way, like it was told what a smile was but never shown. Daichi grinned. “In exchange for telling me which house is the Yahabas’?” Tobio nodded in the same ferocious manner and led the way towards the gate and closer to the wall, shooting questions faster than Daichi could answer them, practically bouncing down the street and into the canal. Daichi tried to reply to them as best he could, Tobio’s interests ranging from earthbending to dirt to insects to farms to seasons to flowers bigger than a thumbnail. Daichi had to keep an eye out for the knotted purple string that hung from Shigeru’s gear that was the symbol of a Water Tribe healer, almost passing the door when he got too deep into his talk about color-changing leaves. He backtracked and hopped up the three steps, Tobio on his heels and chattering, and pulled on the cord that rang bells farther into the glacier than the front of the building showed. It was nice that the kid was comfortable enough to talk to him now, but it wasn’t doing any good things for his headache. He put on a smile and toughed it out the two minutes it took for the door to open and someone to cut Tobio off with a “Can I help…”

Both Tobio and princess trailed off as they made eye contact. She didn’t look much like a princess right now, her hair bound up with several ribbons and a large sash, sweat trickling down her cheeks, but Tobio turned red anyway and took a step back, heel hanging off the edge of the step. He jerked a bow, which she returned with a curtsy-bob. “Princess,” he squeaked, voice cracking. Daichi bit his lips together as she tucked an errant hair back under its wrap.

“Kageyama.” His jaw clenched. “Is there something you needed?” she asked, still holding onto the door with both hands. He shook his head, the braided ends of his front ponytails swinging around and behind his shoulders.

“No- no, thank you. I was just-” He flapped a hand at Daichi, unseen by her until just then. Her eyes widened, and she ducked her face to hide a smile. “I should go,” Tobio announced. He snapped his heels together and bowed again, back to his too-straight posture from earlier. “Goodbye, princess, Mr. Sawamura,” he barked before turning and not-quite-sprinting down the front steps and around the nearest corner.

Daichi watched him go with a sigh, mumbling, “And he was just loosening up, too.” He turned back to the waiting princess, who was still clutching the door and watching him.

“Did you need something, Mr. Sawamura?” she asked, and he winced.

“Please, Daichi is fine. Mr. Sawamura is my dad.” Her eyes crinkled. “I was actually stopping in to bother Shigeru, I’ve got a nasty headache and-”

Her face tightened, not quite a scowl. “A headache? I can fix that.”

She stepped back to let him in the door, pulling some water off the ice walls to cover her hands and setting it to glow. He bent a little so she could reach his temples, but the familiar hum of the water wasn’t accompanied by Shigeru’s cold touch and only eased the headache, not eliminating. She stepped back with a satisfied twist to her mouth, and he couldn’t bear to take that away. He smiled and said, “That’s much better, thank you.” He saw teeth with her smile for the first time, a small flash of white. He shifted on his feet. “Ah – not that I don’t appreciate your help – but Shigeru is a friend, too, and I haven’t seen him in a while. Mind if I still catch up with him?” The teeth went away, but her eyes stayed happy as she nodded and threw the water back on the wall.

“Of course. We’ve been in the stillroom all morning, but I’m sure the mistress wouldn’t mind letting him out for a minute.” She led him further into the house, away from the glow of natural light through ice to the glow of their unmelting lanterns. The infirmary was cut into the glacier like the armory, turning from a normal living and receiving area into a long hallway with evenly spaced doors, some open to let long rows of cots air out, others sealed with condensation on their wood doors, and a few dark holes with glowing water embedded into the cracks in the ice around the ponds in the middle. She stopped at a wood door cracked just enough for bitter steam to billow out into the hallway and dissipate. “Mistress?” she called in the door, room beyond obscured by the steam. “Shigeru has a visitor.”

“Oh really? Well I’ll be the judge of that,” the sharp voice he had come to associate with the dinner bell answered. The door opened wider so she could poke her head out, bun tight as ever, and squint at Daichi. He waved, and her face opened from its wrinkled scowl into pale-eyed delight. “Oh, girl, you could’ve said it was one of his kind! That’s fine!” She barked over her shoulder, “Boy! Get over here!”

“Coming, Ma!” The princess slipped under Mrs. Yahaba’s arm with a smile and a wave back at Daichi before vanishing into the steam. Shigeru popped up in her place, looking just as bedraggled as the two women. He blinked, annoyed scowl blanking out. “Daichi?”

Daichi curled his fingers. “Hey.”

Shigeru looked to his mother, who nodded and let him out before closing the door on them and the herb-heavy steam, tucking some wet and wavy hair behind his ear. “What’re you doing here?” he asked, pulling his tunic straight and brushing dried leaves from his front. Daichi shrugged.

“Just stopping by. Haven’t seen much of you since we got here.” He winked. “Wanted to make sure you were doing okay without Ken to pester into eating his greens.”

Shigeru crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “Hah hah, you’re hilarious, Sawamura.” Daichi winced as the headache’s pressure rose, and he narrowed his eyes. “Headache?”

Daichi huffed. “How’d you guess?” Shigeru rolled his eyes again, but this time with a smile. He directed Daichi to one of the cot rooms, sitting him down on one as he pulled water from the dripping ceiling. “Close your eyes,” he said, voice falling an octave. Daichi obeyed the familiar working tone, sighing as the ice-cold water soothed the pounding tension all the way down to just a bad memory. “Thank you.” The water withdrew. “The princess tried, but she doesn’t have quite your touch.”

Shigeru hummed. “Well, she’s still learning. She’ll get better, eventually.” Daichi opened his eyes as Shigeru fell on the cot facing him, stretching stiff shoulder muscles and groaning. “She’s a princess, after all. It comes naturally to them.”

“Does it?” Daichi asked. “I don’t know much about princesses, but that doesn’t seem to me to be a required trait.”

Shigeru’s eyes flicked up. “I would hope it would,” he answered, “since she might end up being Ma’s successor, if the way Ma goes on about her is any sign.”

Daichi’s eyebrows rose. “But you’re her only child. Wouldn’t you at least get a say in whether you wanted this?”

Shigeru blinked a few times, several emotions flitting over his face too fast for Daichi to label as his hands kept fussing with his appearance. In the end, he gave up on looking presentable and just shook his head. “Only a woman can be the chief healer,” he said, “just like how a man has to be chief. That’s the way it is up here.”

Daichi drummed his fingers on the cot between his knees. “That doesn’t seem fair,” he said when the silence dragged on too long. “You’re the best damn healer I’ve ever met. They’d be crazy not to let you do your work.”

Shigeru flushed a blotchy dark red and cleared his throat, fist covering his mouth. “That’s – nice of you, Dai,” he coughed. He inhaled – exhaled. “But I’ve accepted it.”

Daichi snorted. “I’ve never seen you take anything lying down.” Shigeru tucked away another smile. “Even when you should’ve,” Daichi teased, and Shigeru barked a weak laugh.

“Yeah, well. That’s out there,” he said, waving in the general direction of ‘out’. He heaved a sigh and tore the wool headband keeping his hair back down around his neck, sweaty hair sticking out in curly directions. “Ma gets it,” he admitted to his feet, elbows on his knees and fingers laced together. “But her hands are tied. This isn’t actually a hereditary post.” He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together. “Did I ever tell you Ma kicked my dad out?” Daichi blinked and shook his head. “I was about four, so I don’t really remember it, or him. I just-” His hand flitted around his ear. “He had a really nice beard. That’s all I noticed, I guess. Ma says he was a bastard, though, and liked to hit her, so she put him out like a cat-owl. That went over well.”

Daichi snorted. “I can imagine.”

Shigeru’s mouth twinged. “Well, she snapped at anyone who tried to get her to take him back, and if you think Happy can bite-” Daichi laughed, and Shigeru tried. “Well, he joined the wall guard, Ma holed up here for a few years with me, and he died a few years later in an open water Fire Nation skirmish.” The rubbing paused before it kicked back up twice as hard. “She’s had that rebel label on her back since then, and she’s sensitive about it even if she won’t admit it.” He shrugged, biting on a nail already bitten to the bed. “No one around here likes it when men heal – it’s like cooking, or babysitting. Sure, I learned to fight with the rest of them, but…” He sighed, running fingers through his hair, head bowed. “They’re not opposite things. Not to me. Just different.” He shot up straight, leaning back to stare at the ceiling. “Sorry, you didn’t ask for me to dump all my trash on your head,” he said, eyes closing with a grimace. “You’re just too damn easy to talk to.”

“I get that a lot. And it’s okay.” Shigeru cracked an eye, chin hitting his chest. “And I guess it says a lot about you, and why you left with the Oikawas,” he said, not quite a question. Shigeru’s smile pulled at one corner.

“Oh, some of the old farts gave me grief at the beginning,” he sighed, stretching again. “But they got used to it, and you rockheads couldn’t care less about who fixes you up when you break a rib as long as it gets fixed.” He smiled, hands laced over his head. “Sure, I’ll never have Ma’s job, but the world’s bigger than the North Pole, and that’s fine with me.” He hopped to his feet, rolling his headband back up to his forehead. “I shouldn’t probably get back in there before she starts yelling for me,” he groaned. Daichi stood as well.

“Sure, of course. Thanks for fixing my head.” Shigeru flashed a grin and a dismissive wave at him. Daichi shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Actually, do you think I could join y’all? I really need something to do with my hands today.”

Shigeru tilted his head at him, foot tapping with his considerate hum. “Well, there’s nothing you could fuck up, I guess. Let’s see what Ma says.” He jerked his chin at Daichi’s coat. “You’ll want to leave that here, it’s hot in there.” Daichi shucked it off as Shigeru went back down the hall, already calling the question to his mother before he opened the door. Daichi left his coat on the cot and followed the yelling, shoving his sleeves up to his elbows as he went.

Chapter Text

Working in the stillroom was hard, sweaty work, but it was exactly what Daichi needed. It didn’t take long for Shigeru’s mother to warm up to him, and he actually got the princess to smile a few times. He spent the rest of the day there, hair sticking to his face and arms sore from stirring, but the two Yahabas dragged him back to the Oikawa house for the usual crew supper in the evening, the princess parting ways back to her own home with a last, tucked-away smile.

Daichi slept well and woke up on time for drill, whistling when they escaped the armory iceberg afterwards. It was officially Midsummer Day, the longest day of the year, but clouds obscured the white sun for the first time since Daichi’s arrival, casting everything in gray and slate blue instead of the usual white and crystal. Ryuu had already scampered off to what was probably another ill-advised adventure with the older princess; Daichi was considering going to beg the Yahabas for work again when he saw a familiar glint of a dark ponytail just past the first building at the bottom of the iceberg trail. He waved off a few calls from Seijoh and the wall warriors and waited until they gave up on him and turned away to approach Tobio with a grin.

“You’re gonna have to try harder to sneak up on me,” he said. Tobio jumped clear off the ice. “I got trained by a professional.”

Tobio blinked away the surprise to that head-tilt that promised toddler amounts of questions. “Who? Is it someone here? Can they teach me, too?”

Daichi bit his cheek. “If I told you, it would ruin the lesson.” It took Tobio a few blinks to get that, but Daichi got to watch realization dawn like the first real sunrise of the summer, grunting with his heavy nod. Daichi clapped his arm. “Now what’re you doin’ skulkin’ outside drill? You know you could always come in.”

Tobio gave the hole in the wall a dark look. “I really can’t.” He didn’t explain, just turned the dark look to Daichi, who dug his heels in and refused to give ground. “Actually, I was looking for you, Mr. Sawamura.”

“Please stop calling me that.” Tobio jerked back a little. Daichi smiled and softened his voice to add, “Just Daichi is fine.”

Tobio frowned, but nodded. “Okay. Daichi.”

Daichi grinned. “Not so hard, huh?” He stuck his hands in his pockets. “So, what’s up this fine mornin’?”

Tobio cleared his throat and jerked a too-formal bow, torso parallel to the ice. “Please teach me earthbending, Mr. Sa- Daichi!” Daichi bit his lip as Tobio froze like that, face down so he could only see the red tips of his ears. He couldn’t help it – he laughed, head thrown back, arms clutched around his middle, cold air slicing at his throat. He knew Tobio was a step from crying, but this kid was just too much. “Daichi?”

“Sor-” He sucked in a breath. “Sorry, kid, but wow!” He yanked Tobio straight by the shoulder to ruffle his bangs. “You don’t know how to chill out, do you?” Tobio straightened his bangs out with a pout, face blotchy. Daichi backed off, giving him his space again. “Well, like I told you yesterday, there’s only so far we can go without actual earth to bend, but if you wanna learn the basic forms and stuff, I’d be happy to guide you.” He glanced around so Tobio could get his face in order without an audience. “But if you don’t like the armory, where-”

“I have a place.” Tobio spun on his heel, tail of his ponytail almost hitting Daichi in the face, and marched off, following the line of the walls further inland. Daichi scrambled to follow and keep up, trotting by his long-legged stride, still grinning.

“Now? Not even gonna let me eat breakfast first?” Tobio skidded to a halt, and Daichi almost slipped on ice to do the same. “It’s fine,” he assured Tobio’s wide-eyed panic, “I’ll eat later, I’m not that hungry now.”

Tobio’s shoulders sagged. “Please stop making jokes, Mr. Daichi,” he sighed. “I’m bad at them.”

Daichi chuckled. “Okay, I’ll try, if you slow down.” Tobio nodded, and they started walking again at a pace that could be called ‘walking’. “So, where’s this place of yours?” Daichi asked. Tobio pointed up at the wall, and a cold rush shuddered over Daichi. “Oh.”

One mildly terrifying climb later, Tobio and Daichi were on a hidden but wide ledge halfway up the glacier, invisible from below like so many of the little trails above the city. It was swept bare and dug more in than jutting out, an outcropping that couldn’t quite be called a cave hanging over the back third. “My uncle and I train up here,” was all Tobio offered for explanation, rolling up his sleeves and looking out over the city and the ocean. Daichi glanced around and found scorch marks on the ice, but only because he was looking for them. Tobio swung around to face him, and he jerked away from his staring. “So. Where do we start?”

Daichi paced around so his back wasn’t to open air as he scratched his head. “Well. Hmm. How much do you know about earthbending?”

Tobio shook his head. “Not enough. Just that it moves the ground, when the ground isn’t ice.”

Daichi chuckled. “You’ll find ground usually isn’t ice. But, okay. Theory later.” He looks at his hands. “Earth is more… grounded,” he began. “You water guys move like it, all smooth as butter but dangerous underneath. Earth doesn’t hide.” He got into his stance, and Tobio copied him, fists at his sides. Daichi glanced over it – he was still learning himself, of course, but his form looked flawless for a first time. “Good.” Tobio perked up. “Instead of…” Daichi waved his arms around, and Tobio almost laughed. “You just. Punch.” Punch. “It’s simple to get, but difficult to master. Plus, you’ve gotta have the right head for it.” He flowed through one of the first pattern dances he had been taught in an Outer Ring inn courtyard as he talked, always one foot on the ground. After weeks of cockfighting with the locals, back to basics with an open-minded student felt like coming home. “Of course, you probably wanna learn how to use it to fight, but for most of my life, I’ve just been a farmhand. I use it to plant and grow things.” He finished the dance with a bow of habit, which Tobio was quick to return.

“I’d like to learn that, too – all of it.” He got into his stance – made sure Daichi was watching. Daichi nodded, and he started repeating the motions, slower, but in perfect order and form. “I think how deep water runs here is fascinating,” he said, “but I wanna go out. See how the other places do it their way. See what we can bring back here to make the Water Tribe really grow.” He winced as his foot slipped.

“Keep going,” Daichi urged.

“I know I’m – not a waterbender,” he continued, brow furrowed through three quick steps in the dance, “but I can still build. Father’s spent too long not going out. I want to restart that.” Stomp stomp. “I’ve got lots of ideas, if anyone would listen.”

There was Daichi’s opening. “Ever tried telling the princess them?” Tobio wobbled between stances.

“What? No! Why? When?” His pace sped up, movements turning sloppy. “We never talk much, and she wouldn’t be interested in stuff outside the walls. She’s a princess.” He finished the dance with a quick bow and jumped into it again before Daichi could ask.

“Really? Do you know that, or just assume it?” His face was that blotchy red again. “I think that, if she’s gonna be your wife, you might try exploring each other’s interests to see what y’all have in common. You never know what it could be.”

“Yeah right.” Punch, step, punch. “No one listens to me like that. Why should she be any different? It’s not like we like each other-” He finished again and started over, but Daichi stepped in and grabbed his arm in the first motion. Tobio snarled in his face. “Let me go.”

“Stop. Sit. Breathe.” He shoved Tobio to the ice and sat across from him, keeping eye contact and holding Tobio down by the knees. “There’s no reason to get worked up,” he said in an even tone. “Just breathe for me.” Tobio glared, then sucked in a few rapid breaths. Daichi waited until they slowed down to take his hands away and grip his own knees. “I know I’m new here, and I don’t know much about how your culture works,” he explained to clenched-shut eyes. “I don’t know much about a lot of things, actually – only two. Plants, and people.” An eye cracked. “I’m not saying y’all are a perfect match or anything like that,” he said, “but I know you’ll never be able to figure it out if you run away whenever you see each other.” Tobio peered at him through dark hair and narrowed eyes. Daichi smiled. “You’ll be shocked what good a little healthy communication can do.”

Tobio cocked his head. “Why are you trying to help me?”

Daichi snorted. “Because I like her, and I like you, and I don’t like seeing unhappy kids when I can do something about it.” He slapped his knees and stood, Tobio copying him. “Just think about it, okay?”

Tobio nodded, then got back in his earthbending stance. Daichi shook his head, and Tobio frowned. “What?”

“You’re done for the day, boy. C’mon, let’s get down from here.” Tobio’s face twisted, but Daichi fixed him with a hard look. “Don’t think I haven’t figured out that you’re a serial overworker. I’m friends with Tooru, I know the signs.” He made shooing motions to herd Tobio towards the path back down. “I’ll teach you more later, as much as you’ll actually need me,” he said. “Now come on, I’m hungry, and it’s past breakfast time.” Tobio went with a pout. Daichi saved his smiles for when his back was turned.

There was a party that night for the whole town at the palace to celebrate midsummer. Seijoh had a small pre-party at the Oikawa house for Hajime’s birthday at Tooru’s (screeching) insistence before trickling over in clumps. It was much like their welcoming party from a few weeks ago, with the waterbending performances and the raised table platforms around the center firepit, only this time with some people running around in carved wooden masks and sneaking up on others from behind stacked ice totems of stylized spirit faces that framed the party scene.

Daichi’s Seijoh clump sat at a table where some of the local warriors had already camped, chatting about the upcoming food, the local midsummer traditions, and the girls flitting around the other side of the fire. A few other locals paused to say hi to Daichi as they passed – little comments about the decorations or the white midnight or even a few requests for a dance later. It was frequent enough that several of his neighbors noticed and gave him weird looks. “What?” he asked.

“You’ve made a lot of friends,” one of them said with a beard stroke. “Very fast.” Daichi shrugged.

“I’ve been trading with Tooru in the market our whole stay, people try to be nice to you to get a better deal.” He grinned. “Not that I fall for that.” The local opened his mouth to add on to that, but the drums at the head table pounded, and everyone fell silent as they rand the festival into order.

The chief, small from this angle, stood, smile still blinding. “Friends! Let’s eat, drink, and gives thanks for the continued blessing of the sun!” A small cheer, then the familiar servants with the steaming food platters poured out of the palace wings, and the potential examination of Daichi’s ability to make friends was buried in dried seal-pork.

 The food was exactly the same amount of good as usual, but there was plenty of it, so there were leftovers even at their table of active working men. There were plays about the spirits performed between the courses by the masked actors, myths and fairytales as old as the glacier and as familiar to these people as its grooves. Each story had a different narrator, mostly dignitaries from the guilds and industries of the Northern Water Tribe. One story about the brother and sister of the moon and sun, chasing each other but never catching, was told by the younger princess, sitting by the fire and using her hands to make flickering shadows on the glacier wall. The acoustics of the glacier and the dead silence of her audience allowed her small voice and the swish and thump of the actors’ feet to be the only sound for several blessed minutes.

After food and stories came the dancing. Daichi and most of his table were swept away by local girls at the first beat of the opening song, giggling and conspiring with cloth flowers braided into their hair. Unlike his first night here, he had no shortage of partners this time, swinging him through old steps he didn’t know and laughing when he stumbled before guiding him right. He had never been the best or most in-demand dancer back at home – that was either Ryuu or Chikara – so the attention should have been offputting, but every hand was accompanied by a face, a name, and a personality he could talk to, so he never had a chance to be overwhelmed. He was having fun.

He took a breather for some water and to give his feet a song’s break, falling backwards onto a cushion at an abandoned table. He poured a cup from the pitcher in the middle, sipping it and watching the dancers until his view was obscured by a skirt. He looked up to find the elder princess at the top of it, eyes burning and frown deep. Ah. He patted the cushion next to him, but she just crossed her arms.

“I hear too many different stories about you, Daichi Sawamura,” she snapped. “My sister says you listen to her, my girlfriends say you’re polite and well-spoken, my father’s ministers say you trade like you were born here, and Ry-” she glanced around and plopped down on the cushion Daichi hadn’t offered to hiss, “and Ryuu says you’re his best friend.”

Daichi stared at her. “I had no idea so many people around here said so many nice things about me.” She snarled.

“That’s just it! No one is that nice!” She pounded his shoulder. “You gotta be faking it. You can’t be real.”

He coughed and rubbed his shoulder, face and ears burning. “Ah, well, hate to disappoint you, princess, but I don’t know if I even know how to fake it.” She groaned and buried her face in her hands. He refilled his water cup and asked, “You want some water?” She nodded, and he left the other cup on the table between them. “If it’s any comfort, I didn’t set out to make myself popular here,” he said as she blindly fumbled to take it. “It just happened.”

“That’s even worse,” she moaned. Daichi grinned. She cut her eyes at him from around her fingers. “Ryuu said he told you about…” Daichi nodded. “And? You gonna do anything about it?”

Daichi shrugged. “Not my place. Besides, Ryuu’s sister would kill me when I got back home if I tried to stop y’all. She’s big on that kind of education.”

A hint of her sister’s smile played at her eyes. “Funny. That’s about the same thing Ryuu said.”

“The fear of Saeko is stricken into the hearts of many.” She grinned, showing more teeth than her sister ever did, and clinked their horn cups together before draining hers.

“Dammit, now I like you.” Daichi choked on an unexpected laugh as she dug around in her skirt pockets to pull out a flask, taking a swig before shoving it in his face. “Here. Try some.” He did as ordered, nose burning as it went down. She laughed at his face and stole it back.

They split the flask as they caught up on her training and his impressions of the city and its people. Unlike her sister, she wasn’t quietly devoted to them; she saw the flaws in their culture and loved them all the fiercer for it. It wasn’t hard for him to see how Ryuu would get swept up by her force of personality. He had a good conversation with her, and the presence of a princess kept the other girls from pestering him for a dance on his sore feet.

That trick didn’t work for everyone, though. Daichi had a nice warmth running through him from whatever was in the flask when someone crashed into his other side and strangled his waist, head in his lap. “Hide me, dear,” Tooru whined. Daichi lowered his raised arms with a sigh.

“Who did you piss off this time?” he asked, patting his head while rolling his eyes at the princess, who grinned. Tooru hmphed into his stomach.

“Absolutely no one! Mr. Kageyama just won’t leave me alone!” He shoved Daichi around so he could prop his chin on Daichi’s shoulder. “And I had almost talked Iwa-chan into dancing with me, too!”

“I think you’ve got a long way to go in that fight.” Tooru scowled in his face.

“I’m gonna make him dance with me in public before we leave here, mark my words!” Daichi just patted his hair. Tooru’s scowl lifted to a beam, drunk eyes shining in the white midnight. “I know! You come dance with me, then he’ll get so jealous he’ll have to cut in and I’ll win!”

“The day Hajime is jealous of me is the day spirits walk the earth again, dear heart.” He winked at a startled and suspicious princess. “How about a dance with royalty?” Tooru blinked and finally registered the princess on the other side of Daichi. He lit up, and her eyes blew wide.

“Brilliant! You’re so smart, sweetie!” He planted a sloppy wet kiss on Daichi’s cheek. Daichi winced and wiped the wet spot with the back of his hand as Tooru crawled across his lap to take the princess’s hand. She arched away, teeth bared. “Princess, dance with me so I can make my boyfriend jealous?” he asked, rubbing his cheek into her palm. She raised her eyebrows.

 “Is he always like this?” she hissed at Daichi, who shrugged and hauled him away bodily.

“Only when he’s drunk. And upset. And sometimes just when he feels like it.” He grunted as Tooru flopped over him. “Dear, you’re too heavy for this,” he mumbled. Tooru whined in his ear, octopus-squid arms winding around Daichi’s ribs. Daichi smiled at the princess. “I think it’s time to take him home,” he said. “It was nice to talk to you, princess.” He bowed under Tooru’s drunk weight, then fought to his knees, then his feet.

She watched from her seat as Tooru moaned protests and clung on like the toddler he was. “It was nice to talk to you, too. Surprisingly.” Tooru stuck his cold nose in the crook of Daichi’s neck, making him jump. She snorted. “Need a hand with that?”

“Nah, I got this. It’s kind of like wrestling noodles – slippery, but harmless.” He wrangled Tooru around to drape more gracefully across his shoulders as she laughed. He turned to head out, but didn’t get farther than the next table before someone cut off their escape. “Kageyama, sir,” Daichi said with a blink and a nod. Tooru moaned into Daichi’s fur hood lining as Mr. Kageyama braced himself in their way, feet planted in bent ice and arms crossed. Daichi raised his eyebrows. “Can I help you?”

“I had unfinished business with Oikawa, and he won’t slip away from me again. Sit him down so I can talk to him.” Tooru hissed in Daichi’s ear, and Daichi hitched him up better in his hold, smiling his best at Mr. Kageyama.

“I’m sorry, sir, but to be frank, Tooru’s not in a position to be making much of anything like a decision you could want from him, so-”

“Don’t be daft, boy. It’s not like it matters at your age. He just needs to see reason.” He reached out for Tooru’s arm, but Daichi stepped back from his range. His mottled nose purpled. “You-”

“Hey.” The princess stepped up to flank Daichi and Tooru – she was actually taller than Daichi, which meant she towered over Mr. Kageyama. “Go be a slimeball somewhere else, sir.”

His eyes narrowed, jaw working. “This has nothing to do with you, girl, it’s business. Let us do the heavy lifting, go dance off somewhere like you always do.”

Ice crunched as her feet shifted into stance, although her upper body stayed forward and composed and why did he have a drunk, over-six-foot man lying on top of him? “I can’t believe my sister is being forced to marry into your family,” she growled. He scoffed.

“Forced? She’s just as willing a participant as my son, or as this child is in his family business,” he snapped, gesturing at Tooru. “We all have to buy in, girlie, and if you won’t then she’ll have to do.” He fixed blue eyes in a ruddy face on Daichi. “Sit him down so I can have a nice chat-”

The princess reared back and punched him in the face with a guttural scream. He stumbled back, but she spun right into a back kick just above his knee, then a roundhouse against his popped-open jaw. He went down, coughing onto the ice, as she towered over him, fists white-knuckled at her sides and shoulders heaving. Daichi remembered to breathe – looked towards the dance floor below. A third of them had frozen to watch, the arc expanding as their pause threw off the other dancers, shocked silence falling like snow.

She waited until Mr. Kageyama looked at her, then spat in the ice by his head. “Don’t you ever talk about my sister like that again,” she snarled, dangerous and low, then marched off towards the city, crowds parting before her and whispers in her wake. Daichi and Tooru were rooted, Daichi’s brain stuck until her back disappeared and it kicked into overdrive- get out get out get out-

Mr. Kageyama wiped a trail of blood from his lip. Tooru pumped a fist in the air with a too-victorious laugh, eyes and smile wide and terrifying. Daichi dragged him away as he devolved into hysterics in Daichi’s hood, shushing him and avoiding eye contact and shouted questions.

Chapter Text

“He left!” Someone threw themselves over Daichi’s bed, knocking the wind out of him and shocking him out of his lazy nap. He grunted and batted at the body, but it just ignored his flailing and kept whining. “Kageyama just up and ran outta town and who knows when he’ll be back! This is the worst!”

Daichi rolled over, a struggle with a person on his back, and rubbed at his face as the world reassembled around him. “Why’s that a bad thing?” he yawned. Frowned. “Where did he go?”

“His brother took him on a ‘hunting trip’.” A snort that ruffled the loose hair over Daichi’s neck. “The only thing they’ll be hunting is his overblown temper.”

Daichi sat up at last. Tooru rolled to the side to sit cross-legged on the foot of his fur-bed, clutching his ankles and glaring at Daichi. He yawned again and asked, “This couldn’t wait until I woke up without someone falling on me?” Tooru raised an eyebrow with his pout, and Daichi waved it off. “What’s so bad ‘bout him fuckin’ off?” he mumbled, pulling his clothes straight. “He’s just been raisin’ the depths for, like, three days now.”

“I know!” Tooru threw his hands in the air. “But now I gotta wait until he cools his head down to finish buying all my shit so we can leave! Ugh!” He threw himself across the bed again, but this time only crushing Daichi’s feet. He yanked them out under Tooru’s ribs to kick at them.

“Still don’t get why you had to wake me up for this.” He frowned at Tooru’s one visible eye. “That was a good nap.”

Tooru sneered. “Because Mr. Nobu is still caught up with the stupid marriage contract renegotiations and Hajime is out being a man with the boys.” He clutched Daichi’s leg through the fur. “And if anyone’s got a way out of this for me, it’s you.”

Daichi ignored the twist in his chest at the latter comment and raised his eyebrows at the former. “Forever the third choice, huh?” Tooru pounded his fist into Daichi’s ankle. He winced.

“You know what I mean.” He rolled on his side to face Daichi, hair falling away from his bottom-lip pout and puppy-bunny eyes. “Fix it,” he whined, shaking Daichi’s leg.

Daichi swallowed on the old taste in his mouth, trying to pull his thoughts together. Ever since the older princess had decked Mr. Kageyama at the midsummer festival and vanished on her waveskimmer across the ocean, he had been causing a ruckus that disrupted the whole town’s flow. He had demanded she apologize, but when she was nowhere to be found, changed that demand to cancel his son’s upcoming marriage for the slight between the families. The chief hadn’t been happy with that, as to break the engagement now would be to admit that his daughter had committed a slight against the Kageyamas, so the two parties had been locked in a stalemate in the palace antechambers for days. The street opinion was that he had it coming, but street opinion didn’t matter over a royal marriage contract. Meanwhile, Tooru had been stuck tearing his hair out that his carefully-laid schedule was disintegrating under the continued distracted fury of the Kageyamas, who held the final word in external trade in the Northern Water Tribe. And Daichi had been stuck listening to it (when Ryuu wasn’t sighing over his vanished princess). He should have dumped Tooru in a canal to freeze instead of dragging his drunk crying ass home after the festival. Instead, he stretched, bones in his back popping. Tooru’s nose wrinkled. “Gross.”

“Whatever.” He scratched his scalp, frowning at his lap. “Well, aren’t there other Kageyamas around? Couldn’t you get one of them to do it instead?”

Tooru frowned at the wall. “Ms. Navarana hasn’t traded with us in over a decade… but I think that was more to get distance between her and that sheetstain of a husband she’s got.” No arguments there. “She would probably enjoy going behind his back to show him up…” He trailed off into silence, eyes wide and working. Daichi waited, still blinking sleep from his eyes. After a minute, Tooru slapped his knees and nodded with a little ‘hmph’. “All right. I’ll send someone to slip a message to her about it, see if we can stop by and chat. At least she’s reasonable.”

Daichi nodded – stopped. “We?”

Tooru cut his eyes at him with a cliff-diving grin. “If you think I’m handling your idea by myself, you’ve got another think comin’.”

Daichi flopped back on the bed with a long moan. “Why did I ever teach you that phrase,” he groaned. Tooru barked a laugh at his feet, and he moaned again. “Fine.”

“Aw, I knew I could count on you!” He hopped off the bed and ran out of Daichi’s room to find someone who wouldn’t spit on the Kageyama doorstep to deliver his request, leaving Daichi to a wide-awake head and an empty bed.

After some back door back and forth between the families’ staffs, Daichi and Tooru went to the Kageyama house for a very late tea after the negotiations ceased for the day. Daichi had tried to get someone else to come along and either keep Tooru in line or save him from death by drama queen, but Hajime just laughed at him, and Ryuu was still moping around on the roof and being just as dramatic as Tooru. Irihata would meet them at the house as Mrs. Kageyama’s escort, since he was being tapped as a respected middle ground in the emotional debate. Daichi could sympathize, having played the role for a hot second the first day of the proceedings as he recounted the brief story of the altercation to the feuding parties. He had been glad to get out of sight of their red crosshairs and back to hiding either in the Oikawa house or taking the little princess’s place in the Yahaba storerooms, as she wasn’t allowed out until it was decided if she was engaged or not. (He didn’t think that was fair, but he didn’t particularly want to pick a fight with this culture anymore.) The main impression he had gotten from that closed-door experience was a distinct lack of the only two people who mattered.

The Kageyama house didn’t look all that different from the Oikawas, or any other city house in the North Pole. No one was nearby on the street, so Tooru went up to the front door and tugged on the doorbell pull, Daichi behind him. It didn’t take long for the door to open, a man with short dreads held back from his face with a headband answering. He had the same sharp eyes as Tobio, but a clear blue instead of a dark brown. He nodded at Tooru. “Oikawa.”

Tooru nodded back. “Ukai.” Ukai stepped aside to let them in, and Tooru gestured Daichi forward. He struggled not to roll his eyes and let Tooru put on his airs, leading the way into the foyer. Tooru gave Ukai a blinding beam as the door swung shut behind him. “Well! Thanks for seeing us on such short notice!”

Ukai shrugged, hands in his pockets. “Better than anything else going on tonight.” He jerked his head to gesture deeper into the house. “C’mon, Nava’s in the back den.” He set off into the house, not checking if they came along. Daichi and Tooru exchanged a glance and followed.

Mrs. Kageyama’s back den was a different world than the rest of the ice house, or the rest of the Northern Water Tribe. She had decorated it with screens and hanging from all over the Earth Kingdom, ricepaper and rich earth tones on the walls and floors, pillows stuffed with duck-goose down in every shade Daichi had seen scattered across low sofas and chairs backed with whalebone. Daichi blinked at the color onslaught – he was smiling. Mrs. Kageyama was perched on a center sofa, skirts spread around her and ramrod posture a little more relaxed as she looked up from Irihata to them with those same sharp eyes, accentuated by charcoal lines and crows’ feet at the corners. She didn’t quite smile – Daichi had yet to see her do it – but something in her air changed. She bowed at the waist, teacup clinking in its saucer when she set it down. Tooru returned the gesture, Daichi always a heartbeat late. Irihata smiled at them from his seat across from her.

“Come in, sit,” she said, gesturing at the seating cluttered around the low middle table. Tooru perched next to Irihata, nostrils flaring, but Daichi plopped down in a chair at her left hand, still looking around at the foreign clutter of the room.

“I haven’t seen this much color since we got here,” he mused out loud. “You sure have a way with decorating, Mrs. Kageyama.”

She still didn’t smile, but gave a low, throaty chuckle as she poured them tea. “Thank you, Sawamura. Please, call me Navarana.”

He grinned as he accepted the tea. “Then call me Daichi, ma’am.”

“A-hem.” Tooru glared at him, and he slid back in his chair, clutching his tea. Tooru composed himself to smile at Mrs. Kageyama. “Ms. Navarana, you look lovely today.”

She flicked her eyes up at him from the teapot. Whenever Daichi had seen her in public with her husband and son, she had seemed… tired, and hard, but here in her own space, there was a soft almost-humor hidden in the lines of her face. “Please don’t dance with me, Tooru,” she said, voice quiet and low. “I’ve had far enough of that.”

Tooru whooshed out a sigh, collapsing on himself and reaching for his tea with new life in his bright eyes. “Okay, so here’s the deal,” he said, dropping his fake fashion drawl for his snappy business tone. “I’m ready to get out of here. My whole team is. But your little lovefest is keeping me from refilling my wagon, and I’m tired of waiting for your husband to get his ass out of his face so I can do that.” He leant forward, elbows on his knees, cup spinning in his fingers. “You’ve traded with my mother on the family’s behalf before. Could I ask you to do it again?”

She watched his face through his rapidfire speech, features impassive (although the same couldn’t be said of her brother at her shoulder). When he finished, she tilted her head and held eye contact, fire cracking in the hearth the only sound. After a long silence, her crows’ feet deepened. “You have her eyes, you know,” she said, mouth almost twitching up.

He pulled a face. “Hers are green,” he retorted. She shook her head.

“I don’t mean the color.” She spread her skirts flat across her lap. “I will take his place for you, on one condition,” she said. Tooru’s fists curled on his knees. She looked up from her lap at him, shoulders dropping with a weight. “Take my son with you when you leave.”

Tooru squeaked. Daichi resisted the urge to kick him only because he was too far away to do it without behind awkward. Both Irihata and Ukai started, Ukai letting out a strangled choke like she had punched him. She didn’t look away from a lemon-faced Tooru. “I know you two don’t get along,” she said, hands folded on her lap. They shook with the force of her grip. “I don’t try to pretend like he’s – the most social animal.” She blinked a few times in quick succession. “But it was my obeisance that got him trapped in this… lovefest, as you call it.” He would have to ask Tooru what ‘obeisance’ meant later. The knuckles of her top hand turned white. “I want him to have his freedom.” Ukai laid a hand on her shoulder. She glanced up at him, covering his fingers with hers. Irihata rubbed his chin.

“It’s not a bad idea,” he drawled, drawing the attention of the room. “It would be good exposure for him, and might provide enough distance.” He cut his eyes at a red-faced Tooru. “And make him learn diplomacy.”

“Rude, Mr. Nobu.” Daichi frowned at Tooru, and he sighed. “Oh, I see your objective point,” he groaned. “But do I have to?”

“Yes.” Irihata scowled at him, but Tooru just sipped his tea with a sigh. Daichi looked between the two settled sides in the breath of silence.

“Ma’am, what does Tobio think about this?” She tilted her head, and he clarified, “You have asked him, right?” She jerked back as if he had slapped her, and his skin washed cold. “Oh, I mean, not to be rude, but-” He slurped his tea, then cleared his throat, face hot. “If you really want to give him his freedom you’ll give him the choice.” He flashed a smile. “Of course, from what I know about Tobio, he’ll take it, but in his shoes, I would like to be asked.”

Her eyebrows furrowed under her heavy bangs. “I didn’t know you knew my son, Sawamura.”

He shrugged. “We’ve crossed paths a few times. He’s a good kid.”

Ukai glared at him from behind his sister, but she just nodded. “Thank you.” She glanced back at her scowling brother. “See if Tobio’s awake, please, Kei?”

Daichi frowned at Tooru’s full-body twitch before he stood, clapping his hands together. “I think that’s my cue to leave!” Irihata and Daichi sighed in unison. He bowed at Mrs. Kageyama, palms flat on his thighs. “Thank you for the tea and the time, Ms. Navarana!” he chirped, tone shiny and fake again. “I’m sure whatever decision your family decides on will be agreeable with mine!” She inclined her head. Daichi and Irihata stood as well, Daichi draining the last of his tea as Ukai headed to the door ahead of Tooru’s speed walk. Mrs. Kageyama didn’t stand with them, just watched them go, drawing the silk of a pillow tassel between her fingers. Irihata bowed to her with a mumbled farewell and a promise to escort her to the palace in the morning before trying to catch Tooru’s shirttail and slow down his fleeing escape to a normal pace. Ukai caught his elbow in the hallway, their lowered voices fading down the hall.

Daichi went out last, but paused in the door and turned. “Ma’am?” She looked up, and he smiled. “This is just a thought, and I’m sorry if I’m stepping out of place, but… he really is a good kid, and so is the princess.” She blinked, hands stilling. “I reckon they might have some thoughts on their futures.”

She pursed her lips. “Thank you for teaching me how to parent my child.” He grimaced, but she put a knuckle over the ghost of a smile. She said behind it, “Consider the lesson learned.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean – I just want what’s good for them.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder down the hall. “And I’m sorry about him, and about putting you out like this.”

Her hand slipped down to tug at the engagement necklace at her throat. “Tooru has been precocious for a long time, it’s nothing new. And I’ve been cleaning up after my husband for far longer.” She poured herself some more tea, long dark hair slipping to obscure her face. “Good night, Daichi.”

He jerked a bow, ears hot. “Good night, Navarana.” He spun on his heel and marched down the hall, ice blue overtaking his vision again.

The day after next, Daichi sat with Tooru and Irihata at a corner of the dockmarket, chatting about the weather and watching the clouds flutter across a crystal sky, breath condensing between them. The false-dawn city moved around them in early morning stupor, stretching out like Daichi loosening his drill-stiff muscles. Irihata was asking (or nagging, according to Tooru’s face) about how Tooru’s sessions with Mrs. Yahaba for his knee were progressing when the crowd parted for the two Kageyamas and Ukai, each a hand taller than most and radiating silence. Tobio had a ring of white around his bitten lips, eyes wide and bright, hands trembling. Daichi grinned and waved at them, drawing Tooru and Irihata’s attention from their parent-child debate. Mrs. Kageyama stopped in front of them and spread her hands.

“Gentlemen.” Her eyes narrowed. “Let’s get to work.”

Chapter Text

Mrs. Kageyama was just as capable and reasonable as Tooru promised her to be, quiet but quick to call out a bad deal or a better product down the block on their market tour. The tradespeople respected her more than her husband, not bothering with the circling backhanded smalltalk Daichi had seen them waste Mr. Kageyama’s time with and cutting to the point without even a sharp Mother look. Tobio was hot on her heels the whole time, testing ideas and theories that the four real adults kept Tooru from trampling over. It was a pleasant few days as the two Kageyamas and Ukai opened up without the weight of Mr. Kageyama looming, letting Daichi meet them past the first impression as Tobio and his chaperone/uncle asked about the Earth Kingdom in the spaces between haggling. It was refreshing to be reminded that even in this town where it only took a few days to learn everyone’s names, there was always someone he could get to know better, like the hidden-from-below paths etched along the glacier walls.

It was simple business after Mrs. Kageyama’s involvement to acquire enough Water Tribe wares and novelties to bring back to the warm and dry world across the world. She also took the reins on the marriage negotiations upstairs with brisk efficiency, stepping out of her silent corner to shape her son’s future with a precise grace Daichi normally only saw in Tooru’s sword lessons. Daichi didn’t ask the family directly, but his market friends were happy to tell him all about the unconventional deal she had brokered with a roomful of stunned men in conspiratory whispers. The little princess now had the freedom to find her own husband for a while, but if she was still unwed when Tobio returned from his world tour, they would reinstate the engagement on new terms. The princess also apologized on behalf of her sister, which Mrs. Kageyama accepted on behalf of her husband, on the condition that she not be criminalized for her actions when she returned. If she returned. Half of the wall guards and fishermen were out looking for her, but years of disappearing acts had made her experienced in ocean evasion and living off the water for days at a time. No one seemed worried for her survival, but more about what her family would do when she crawled her way home.

Daichi fell into his middleman role between Tobio and Tooru each day, distracting Tooru with business talk or dragging Tobio a few steps back to bleed off excess words so Tooru could cool down and un-puff his cheeks. It was fun to juggle, in a headachy way, but it was also exhausting. He was happy to leave Tooru in Irihata and Hajime’s care each evening and crash on his too-big fur bed, knocked out before the house quieted.

A few nights into this pattern, he woke up in stages to body heat and sniffling at his back. He groaned and squinted over his shoulder at a bare scalp, the face pressed between his shoulderblades. “Ryuu?” he grunted. Ryuu’s arms cinched tighter around his waist. “Ryuu, wha’s’it?”

“Sorry, ain’t mean to wake ya up, Dai.” He wiped his face on Daichi’s undershirt – damp already. “Just needed a hug.”

Daichi hummed, turning in Ryuu’s hold and throwing an arm over him. “Tell me,” he yawned, rubbing his numb face into the rough homespun of the (shared) pillow. Ryuu kept his head bowed, fists curled on his spine. “Wassup,” Daichi mumbled, body and mind fighting to wake up.

Ryuu sighed. “Kana came back.” Daichi frowned, eyes still clamped shut. “She found me on the roof.” His skin did feel lukewarm where they touched, where his forehead pressed against Daichi’s neck.

“A’ight?” Daichi yawned again, scratching over the stubble of Ryuu’s hairline. “She got somethin’ to say?”

“A lot. Guess a week of solitary makes you chatty.” Daichi hummed. “Lots of ranting and bitching and yelling and not much in way of apologizing. Is that too much to ask? ‘I’m sorry I took advantage of you ‘n yours and left after fucking shit up for everyone I care ‘bout’?”

“’Parently.” Daichi squinted at the wall across the room – it was the one hour of actual nighttime in the middle that had started growing after midsummer’s passing, casting his room in navy and black. “Wait. She came back? Now?”

“Yeah.” Ryuu sighed, breath gusting down between their bodies. “Dai. She asked me to run away with her.”

Daichi blinked at the wall. “Well I guess that you didn’t.”

“Fuck no.” He clutched Daichi tighter. “Well, sure, it’s tempting, run the world with no rules, but…” He grunted. “I couldn’t do that to myself.” He tapped Daichi’s back with his fist, not quite forceful enough for a punch. “Shit, you see how she did her sister? She got all huffy an’ high’n’mighty ‘bout that marriage and then fucked it up ‘cause she ain’t able to keep her cool for like, two seconds!” He sucked in a few shaky breaths, fingers twitching against Daichi’s back, face hard-pressed into Daichi’s collarbone so he could feel it scrunch up. “I look at her, and all I see is an avalanche,” he muttered, barely above a whisper. “So I bailed before she could bury me.”

Daichi swallowed on a stale mouth, fingers spread wide over Ryuu’s neck and scalp, white nerves banishing lingering dreams. “Oh.”

“I mean, that’s how she did family,” Ryuu tacked on. “What’d she do to me, a friend?” He bit out the last word with more venom than Daichi had heard from his voice in months, a growl rumbling through his chest. Oh. “She’d leave me high’n’dry at the first sight a’trouble and I’d be stuck at wherever trouble lived.” He sniffed. “I’m glad she left,” he whispered. “Gave me time to clear my head.”

Daichi let him sniff in silence for a minute longer, last sleepers leaving his eyes, Ryuu’s coat warm against him now. He propped up on his free elbow, other hand still cupping Ryuu’s neck. He stroked his thumb along the soft skin behind Ryuu’s red ear, his face still. “I’m glad, too,” he murmured, watching his thumb roll. “I’d miss you if you went on a lawless rampage without me.” A smile twitched, and Daichi’s chest flushed with a heady warmth. “Let’s be lawless tomorrow, then,” he said, “Just the two of us. Do the town up right before we bust outta here.” Ryuu cracked an eye, and Daichi grinned. “I know you, there’s gotta be something risky you’ve wanted to do before we left.”

White teeth flashed. “Maybe one or two things.” He yanked Daichi down to cuddle into his chest again. “But in the mornin’.” Daichi nodded and hummed an old dancing song, stroking Ryuu’s back as his breathing evened and the kicked-apart dreams drifted back together.

It took some serious begging and more than a little bribery to convince Hajime to take his place as Tooru-babysitter the next day, but it was worth the last of his hidden home-tea stash for the smile Ryuu gave to the open blue sky the next morning. “I think I’m finally getting used to their cold shit,” he sighed, tipping his head back all the way and closing his eyes. “Just in time to fuck back to summer!” He crowed a laugh, loud and wild. Daichi snatched his elbow so he wouldn’t wobble sideways into the canal, chuckling as he yanked him back to safe ice.

“I’ll be ready to get out of this chunk of ice and out of these shoes, myself.” Ryuu laughed and walked normal again, swinging Daichi’s hand until he let go of his coat. Daichi shoved his red hands in his pockets. “So, what’s the risky surprise you’re leading me to?”

Ryuu grinned. “I’ve wanted to get one of these every time I come up here, but I always wimp out until it’s too late.” He beamed at Daichi. “But if you’re around to kick my ass about it, then I know I’ll get it done!” Daichi raised an eyebrow, and Ryuu tugged his knit cap down his forehead, clearing his throat. “I wanna get one a’those tattoos all the wall guards got,” he said, running two fingers in a circle around his bicep. “Right here, the good ol’ sun, in the local style. It’s gonna hurt like no tomorrow, I know, but it’d look sweet.” He grinned at Daichi, one shoulder up. “It ain’t too silly, ain’t it, boss?”

Daichi smiled without teeth, eyes narrowing. “The opposite. I like it.” And maybe some of Ryuu’s reckless was rubbing off, but Daichi felt it down to his gut when he added, “Actually, if you don’t mind, I might copy you.”

Ryuu blinked, then beamed. “Shit, man, that’d be kickass!” He bumped Daichi with his shoulder hard enough to knock him a few steps sideways and slap the building wall for balance. “Let’s do it! Before I can chicken-pig out again!”

Daichi laughed, stomach hurting. “All right, lead the way!”

The tattooist their warrior friends directed them to was a happy older man Daichi had met at the Yahabas a few times when he picked up medicines who bred polar fox-dogs. They talked about mutual acquaintances and the new litter while Ryuu strangled Daichi’s fingers and hid his whimpers in the tattooist’s much-maligned pillow, the tattooist’s steady hands sewing in ink without regard to Ryuu’s pain. One of the litter climbed into Daichi’s lap despite barked orders to go back to the kennel, three months old and already able to tuck under his chin. He scratched her ruff with his unbroken hand as they compared training these fluffballs to the sheep-dogs back at home and found only minor changes. The tattoo process took several hours, so the conversation meandered away from dogs after a time and, as usually happened up here, towards the latest drama of the royal family. There was a new tax on firewood that wasn’t sitting well with anyone, and the chief’s grandmother said another bawdy thing last night at dinner that caused half the party to skip dessert and run home.

Daichi was still laughing about that into the puppy’s exploring nose when the tattooist bent down to perfect the tip of a rising sun’s spoke and said, “And I heard through the waterfall that the first princess slithered her way home after that.” Ryuu yelped with a jerk, and the tattooist slapped his bare head with a light backhand. “Quit squirming if you don’t want me to mess up, boy!”

Daichi squeezed the sweaty palm against his, adjusting his legs under the lap of fuzzy fox-dog. “Oh really? And you’ve held that one out on me this long, Issike?”

Issike grinned and winked, laugh lines making the streaks tattooed down his face zigzag. “You young people don’t know the concept of delayed gratification!” His hands kept working, and Ryuu kept squirming everywhere but that arm. “Well, it’s still just back door whispers, but the story goes she came back in the middle of the night and got caught sneaking back out by the guards.” He shook his head. “Gonna take forever to catch up on all the fish that ain’t get net in while they was out lookin’ for her, and the moon don’t know what her papa’ll do to her.” He hummed, leaning in so his nose almost brushed Ryuu’s skin as he pulled one drop of ink through for the sunbeam point. “Sure, her blessed sister may keep her from the fortress, but ain’t no spitshake gonna keep that girl from a whoopin’ – at least, not if she was my daughter.” He huffed. “Long time comin’, you ask me. Child’s had free rein for far too long. Gone to her head.”

Daichi nodded along, keeping an eye on Ryuu’s red ears and shallow breaths as he scratched behind the puppy’s ears. “Mmm, maybe.”

Issike sat back from his work with a heavy sigh, slapping his crossed knees. “Well! This bit’s gotta set for a while now. You boys’ll have to come back tomorrow for another coat.” He grinned. “It hurts more the second day.”

Ryuu groaned into the tattered pillow, not moving, skin around the fresh dark tattoo swollen and red, dried blood caking on the edges. The puppy whined. Daichi sucked in a breath and held it, bracing his shoulders as he extracted his hand from Ryuu’s grip to lift the puppy off his numb legs. “Okay, then.” He fixed a still-grinning Issike with the hardest look he could manage. “My turn.”

Fuck, that hurt.

His right arm still ached three days later, wrapped in bandages under his coat as they packed up the boats to sail back to the mainland. He caught Ryuu wincing whenever someone bumped his left, snapping at them more than the bump was worth, but Daichi just glared at him from across the docks until he settled back to an unhappy grumble. Half of the tribe had gathered to see them off, many of them family of the Seijoh waterbenders, helping them stow and secure their hard work for the long journey and tucking parting gifts, good luck charms, and fond touches in the creases. All of the Kindaichis were there – except for Igaluk, who couldn’t bribe his crabby boss into even a morning off work – down to the eldest’s five-year-old son. He mostly rolled around in the snow with Snowflake, the fox-dog puppy that Daichi just couldn’t leave behind, bought from Issike with an entire household’s worth of dinnerware repaired and a promise to train her right on the road back, happy giggles and yips mixing as Akira bent snow to make interactive slides and pens.

Daichi paused at a lull in the packing to look back on the city, glittering in the glancing sun like a snowmelt lake hidden in the mountains. It may not be his home, and there may have been too much small town drama and heights for Daichi’s tastes, but he was still going to miss this place.

A familiar hairstyle wove through the dock crowd. He smiled, ducking through to catch it. “Princess!” he called when he didn’t have to yell. She paused, full basket propped on her hip, and turned to face him. “Glad I caught you before we left!”

Her eyes crinkled, head cocking as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. “Oh?”

He grinned, stopping a few feet in front of her. “Well, it would be odd not to say goodbye after all that stillroom time together.” Her nose wrinkled, and his grin waned to a smile. “How you’n your sister doing?”

She bit her lip. “We’re managing. Papa’s new guard on her makes her scream, but she’ll live.” She worked at a flake of loose skin on her lip with her teeth. “I never got the chance to thank you,” she said, voice low and soft. She bit off the skin and wiped it off with a glove. “I know what you did, for us.”

He blinked. “Oh.” He waved it off. “I just put the bug in Ms. Navarana’s ear. She did all the work. Thank her, not me.”

“I have.” She smiled, the dried rosemary twig behind her ear slipping forward. “But all the same.”

He chuckled. “You’re welcome, then.” He jerked a thumb back at the dock. “I should get back to work.”

She curtsey-bowed. “You should, Sawamura.” She tucked the rosemary firmer behind her ear. “I’ll see you next summer, then.”

He nodded as she walked away – wait. He wasn’t coming back next summer? But she was too far away to correct, skirts catching up ice shavings. He frowned at the ice-

Ryuu snapped at something, carrying all the way over the crowded dock. Daichi sighed and turned his back on the North Pole.

Chapter Text

It was several long, cold days of babysitting Tooru and keeping Tobio on any of the other boats to get back to the Earth Kingdom, but it was worth it to watch the brown line grow on the horizon in the afternoon of the fourth day. They docked around sunset and fell into offloading, landside dockhands jumping to help. Most of the merchant cargo would stay on the boats overnight until they could secure wagons in the morning, but there was still all the people and their gear, as well as the local trading the sailors had shoved into the cracks.

Daichi took his bag and his leashed puppy to the first spot of dirt he could find, a pebbly beach between the ramshackle docks. It wasn’t much, but it was land, and he fell on it with a sigh, drinking in the language he had missed hearing so much. He was never setting foot on a boat again. His arm tugged around as Snowflake did her business, then bounced back to him, big puppy paws thumping on his chest and punching the air out of him. He wheezed and scratched her ears blindly, eyes closed so he could listen better.

“You’re gonna catch a cold down there,” Tooru’s voice sing-songed from overhead. “Or something worse.”

Daichi grimaced and scrubbed his hands deeper into Snowflake’s ruff. “Go away,” he moaned, but it didn’t carry over the little lappings of the waves. Snowflake settled across his chest, fox-dog breath misting in his face. “Good girl,” he mumbled, scratching under her collar. Her thumping tail scattered pebbles over his legs.

“Dear,” Tooru whined, “You can consummate your love with the earth later.” Daichi frowned and cracked an eye. Tooru’s silhouette was hard to make out against the orange sky, but something in his tone made Daichi push Snowflake off and stand, slapping clinging pebbles off his back and crawling back up the short but steep bank, leash threatening to trip him up. Tooru waited at the top, arms crossed and toes tapping, eyes scanning the dilapidated town that ran from the dock up the valley to the rocky mountains cupping the harbor.

“Something wrong?” he mumbled. Snowflake tugged on his wrist, so he clicked his tongue at her in the only command she knew so far. She grumbled, but sat at his feet, ears twitching around for the jerky treat he fed her from his pocket.

“Not sure,” Tooru mumbled back, not taking his eyes off the skyline. “Something’s… different, but I don’t know if it’s wrong yet.” He flicked his fingers at the busy dock behind them. “They seem happier than a month ago, and they haven’t once looked at me for a coin. And normally the left-behinds have shown up by now.” He sighed. “Iwa-chan’s investigating that part, but I wanted your expert opinion on if I’m just sea-paranoid or if my gut’s right.”

Daichi rolled his eyes, but took a breath and evaluated the docks and the sloped town. It seemed… emptier, like a holiday Daichi didn’t know about, the dirty market framing the harbor running at half-steam. The harbor itself was as full as a month ago, but only a few of the ships had activity on them. “No, you’re right, something’s up.” He handed off Snowflake’s leash to Tooru and jogged to the nearest local to tap them on the shoulder. “Hey.” They smiled at him with a question, and he smiled back. “Where is everybody?”

The local put the crate he was carting down to point at the mountains. “Rebuilding! We had ourselves a monster earthquake ‘bout a week ago, and pretty much every hand’s can be spared is out there fixing the road up.” Snowflake made a flying leap into his face with a yip, tail wagging her whole body around as she scrambled to lick as much of his face as possible, dragging Tooru behind her. He grinned and scratched her ears. “And who’s this beauty?”

“A wild animal,” Tooru snapped, breathless as he shook her leash off his wrist. Daichi caught it as Tooru scowled at the local, who was rubbing rough hands over her white fur with a toothy smile. “What’s this about rebuilding?”

The local didn’t look up from the begging Snowflake as he answered, “Earthquake destroyed the road, no idea even how far into the mountains. That’s why everyone’s pitching in. Most of our business comes down that road, y’know!” Tooru smiled, white around his mouth. “Pretty impassable now, unless you’re a marmot-goat.” He beamed up at them. “Hey, if y’en’s gonna be around for a spell, maybe you an’ yours can lend a hand, too!”

Tooru’s smile sharpened. “Oh, I’m sure we will.” He stomped down the dock to snap at Irihata, who paused in his oversight to listen as the boards settled under Daichi. He smiled at the confused local in apology.

“Don’t mind him, it’s just – been a long trip.” the local shrugged, still submitting to Snowflake’s aggressive attention-seeking. She was trying to eat his hair now, and that wasn’t polite. He clicked his tongue – again. “Heel,” he snapped, tugging on the leash. The local just laughed.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, I’ve been helping out at the animal farm on my days off, so’s I’m used to it by now.” He stood before Daichi could ask what the animal farm was, hefting the crate back up. “Tell your friend good luck, but we sure wouldn’t mind the help!” He shrugged a shoulder in a hands-full wave and trotted off, Snowflake whining as he went. Daichi sighed and rubbed his temple with his palm, feeling the headache forming already.

As Daichi predicted, Tooru screeched well into the night, but there was nothing they could really do about it. The mountain road was the only land route wide enough to accommodate the caravan’s size, and all water routes were infested with icebergs or Fire Navy patrols as risky to run as icebergs. Most of the water traders in port were local fishers or Water Tribe skimmers who ran along the top of the continent, and they couldn’t be paid to take a crew and cargo the size of the Oikawa entourage farther inland than the intracoastal waterway. The only thing they could do was assist with clearing the road and hope to break through the rubble before all of Tooru’s hair was pulled out. Complaining about it wouldn’t make the earthquake un-happen, but that didn’t mean Tooru didn’t try.

The town woke at dawn to filter into the mountains and join those that camped at the furthest point of the new road. Even this early, the odd levels of cheer they noticed yesterday persisted, the downtrodden villagers joking and laughing with each other and their help. Apparently, a natural disaster was what it took to bring people together. The marching crowd was more hodgepodge than Daichi had seen in a while – the month living in the uniform colors of the Water Tribe had spoiled him. It was a nice change of pace to walk on a brand new road with brand new faces in the clean morning air. He even took Snowflake off her leash so she could trot between feet and let out some energy. There were plenty of other animals in the troop – even some odder ones that came from that animal farm that had adopted Ken while they were gone. Snowflake was always easy to find, a knee-high white streak in a moving forest of greens and browns. He smiled as she bounced and barked for attention from a grumpy Ryuu getting heckled with questions by a too-awake Tobio.

“She yours?” someone asked at his side. Daichi glanced over and up at a wild black ponytail and almond eyes dark with humor. The stranger gestured in Snowflake’s direction, long fingers curling. Daichi grinned.

“Not biologically.” The stranger snorted on an ugly laugh, and Daichi’s grin grew. “Although some people wouldn’t be surprised.” A harder, uglier laugh.

“That’s- that’s good.” The stranger wheezed as he recovered, tugging his mane of a ponytail tighter. “So – you came in with that water crowd last night, then?”

Daichi shrugged. “I guess you could call it that.” He huffed. “I forgot there are no secrets in a small town.”

The stranger smiled, still trying to be smooth. “I make it my business to know the comings and goings of wherever I am.” Snowflake bounded back to Daichi, tongue out and smiling. Daichi rubbed her head, pausing their march and bending a little to reach, as the stranger crouched and held out his hand for her to sniff. She didn’t bother with that, licking his fingers before he could yank them away with a grimace and a tunic wipe. Daichi laughed at him, grabbing Snowflake by her collar and tucking her under his arm, puppy paws flailing. “Hush,” he told her. She settled, but still strained to inspect the stranger. He supported her with a splayed hand under her chest and said, “This is Snowflake.”

The stranger scratched behind her ears, angling his arm to keep it from licking reach. “Hi Snowflake,” he crooned. “I’m Kuroo.” She tried to teethe on his arm anyway, struggling in Daichi’s arms. He put her down and clicked her to heel, feeding her a treat when she did. Ponytail clapped. “Nice, for a child.”

“It’s a work in progress.” They stepped back in the flow of traffic, Snowflake trotting at Daichi’s side, eyes on his treat pocket. “You been here long?” Daichi asked when the new guy kept up. He shrugged.

“A little bit. Not really in a hurry to leave.” He grinned, teeth flashing through lopsided bangs. “Hard to find clients with the road cut off like this.”

“That seems to be the common thread.” The rumbles of earth moving and voices yelling started to echo down the ravines over the murmurings of the road crew. Probably time to find his people and figure out where he belonged. He flashed a last smile at his walking partner. “Well, it was nice to meet you.”

Kuroo winked. “You too, Mr. Dog Whisperer.”

Daichi laughed. “Just ‘Dog’ is fine.” He flicked a salute from his forehead and jogged up to the teal, leaving him to connect with his own people.

The road work progressed like the walk of Ken’s new otter-sloth backpack – slow, but steady and happy about it. It wasn’t fast enough for an antsy Tooru, of course, who was testier by the meal and only approachable by Hajime. Even the rest of Seijoh was restless, too used to moving to feel comfortable stopping now.

Daichi understood their frustrations, but it was a different kind of bitter for him. The work itself reminded him of home, both welcome and aching, the closest thing he had gotten to homesick in a while. He would have retreated into his head for a few days if the ponytail Kuroo guy didn’t keep seeking him out – along the ever-growing walk to and from town, at mealtimes, when he was working on Snowflake’s training. Daichi liked talking to him, partly because he had a good (if awful) laugh and sharp commentary on their fellow workers, but mostly because it ticked off everyone else. Watching Shigeru puff up or Ryuu bare his teeth every time he came around were the only spots of humor in an otherwise grueling chain of days.

It took almost a week for the fervor of a new project to die down with the locals. Clump by clump, they started to return to their usual lives, while more of the people who were working the road camped alongside it instead of making the daily trek from the harbor. Daichi knew it was only a day or two until Tooru packed everyone up, beds be damned, and kept pace behind construction until they could weasel through. Time to get his kitchen cooking and alcohol fix while he could.

Most of Seijoh went straight to crash after a quiet, tired dinner in the inn’s dining room, but tonight, Daichi stayed downstairs, sipping on a deep dark beer by the fire, Snowflake asleep in the chair across the hearth. Irihata, Ukai, and Shinji were the only teal ones still around, Irihata because he liked crowd noise while calculating supplies, Ukai because he was getting drunk under the bar by a happy grandpa, and Shinji because Snowflake had fallen asleep on top of him. A few scattered faces held conversations around the room, most familiar from road work if not friendly.

Ponytail guy was at the far end of the bar, abandoned by his group like Daichi, half-asleep but not gone yet. His back was to Daichi, a nice back with broad shoulders outlined by his tunic and highlighted by the flickering lanterns. Daichi had no idea he had a thing for backs before this guy. Beer ran through him like bitter clouds, fogging his eyes until the earths of his tunic turned into abstract shapes.

“Hey.” Daichi blinked, looked across the hearth at Shinji. He was smiling, dark circles around his eyes, as he pulled one of Snowflake’s downy ears through his fingers. “You’ve been staring at that guy for, like, ten minutes.”

“Oh. Sorry.” He adjusted his seat – he had slid too far down while he was zoning out. “Didn’t even notice.”

Shinji snorted. “Sure you didn’t.” Daichi’s mouth twitched. Shinji sighed, scratching his stubbly head. “Look, I know everyone else thinks you’re dumb for entertaining his bad pickup lines,” he said, “and I know Ryuu would drag me into the ocean if he knew I was telling you this, but…” He held Snowflake’s ear up to a point, looking at it instead of Daichi. “If you wanna go for it. You should.” He smiled at his lap without seeing Snowflake. “The one benefit of moving around so much with this job is a – not lack, but – a loosening of consequences.” He grinned. “Plus, he’s hot, and I don’t even like dudes.”

Daichi grinned behind his mug, face hot. It was almost empty. “You think?” Shinji raised his eyebrows, forehead furrowing all the way past his shaded hairline.

“That guy couldn’t stop hitting on you if would prevent another earthquake, boss.” Daichi snorted, foam puffing up from the last inch of his beer. He shrugged with a wink. “And anyway if you get turned down, it ain’t like there are any witnesses.”

Daichi thought about it for the rest of his beer, but he was already four of these into the night and really wanted to know what that spine felt like. He banged his empty mug down on his knee. “Okay.” He waved a hand at Snowflake. “You don’t mind?”

Shinji shook his head. “She’s a good girl. I’ll show her a nice time.” He winked. “Go get ‘em.” Daichi sucked in a breath, then nodded once and marched to the bar.

He plopped his mug down on the bar first, followed by his butt on the stool next to Ponytail. Kuroo jumped – he had fallen asleep – and blinked over at Daichi. Grinned like a teahill sunrise. “Why, Mr. Dog, what a pleasure.”

“Cut the crap and buy me a drink.” Kuroo blinked a few times, jaw slack. Daichi leaned in, chin on Kuroo’s shoulder, a move that always worked for Issei on his current target. “Unless you don’t wanna?”

Kuroo’s breath whistled through his nose. This close, Daichi could almost tell between the black of pupil and the dark brown of iris. They had little flecks of gold in them, catching the light in Daichi’s drunk eyes to dance like fire. “I would love to.” Daichi smiled.

Daichi woke up the next morning with a splitting headache and someone warm and long and rather naked pressed to his bare back. He rubbed at his gross face – Ryuu hadn’t slept topless in months, it was too cold, so what -

Oh. Oh right.

A dry mouth pressed to the back of his neck. “Mornin’, sunshine.” Daichi groaned and smashed his face into the pillow. A low chuckle rumbled from the other chest through his. “Do this often?”

“Not really,” Daichi gritted through the foul taste in his teeth. “It’s a new thing I’m trying.” Cold fingers and a long arm snaked around his waist, cinching him close as the mouth opened, a free hand pushing Daichi’s hair aside. “Stop that.”

“Not a morning person, puppy?” Daichi elbowed him in the gut hard (harder than he meant). Kuroo grunted, curling around him harder. “Okay, no sunrise sex,” he wheezed. Daichi huffed, not quite alive enough to laugh. It was really hard to ignore the strip of wood against his lower back, even when he felt like he had been dragged across the ocean floor last night. Well, according to the salt caked on his skin, that might have happened. “I’d love to offer you room service breakfast,” he mumbled into Daichi’s shoulder, still a little breathless, “but this place isn’t quite that amenable.”

Daichi ignored the word he didn’t know and mustered up the willpower to turn in Kuroo’s hold to look at him through bleary eyes. His coarse hair was an unbelievable mess, sticking in every possible direction but down, purple bags under his eyes and a muscle in his jaw twitching with its clench. He ran a hand through the wild mass – Kuroo’s eyes fluttered. “If we tried for another round, one of us would puke, and this would always be that time we got puked on during sex.” Kuroo snorted with that ugly laugh of his, lacing his fingers behind Daichi’s back and throwing a leg over his. Daichi grinned, temples throbbing. “I’d rather not have that impression.”

Kuroo hummed, laughter still around his eyes, and pecked Daichi’s nose. His heart stuttered. “Fair eno-”

Daichi grabbed his face and kissed him hard, bones clacking and cracking. Unlike Issei, who always pulled back to take it slow, Kuroo surged into it, half-pinning Daichi to the bed as he tried to eat Daichi’s face. He never really understood that idiom until last night. The sheer enthusiasm hooked Daichi more than any smooth line from the past week, though, arm and a leg wrapped around the encroaching body. He still had a headache, they both tasted like shit, Kuroo needed a shampoo and a shave, and it was nice.

But the sun was rising. Daichi grabbed handfuls of hair and pulled Kuroo off, bottom lip pulled between retreating teeth. “I have to go,” he mumbled. “It’s only a matter of time until my guys start breaking down doors looking for me.”

“That’s precious. My guys would leave my ass in a heartbeat.” Daichi chuckled and shoved him to the side so he could sit up and look around. His clothes were mostly thrown around by the door, but his underwear was at their feet. He forced himself to get up and get himself into it, ignoring the backburn of Kuroo’s stare as he hopped into his pants.

Kuroo whistled. Daichi threw a boot in his direction behind his back. “Can it, lowlife.” Kuroo ugly-laughed, and Daichi hid his smile with his turned back. He tugged on his undershirt and shrugged on his tunic – where the fuck was his belt –

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you wanted to get out of here.”

“I do.” He smiled at a still-lounging Kuroo, forehead furrows visible through the breaks in his hair. “It’s nothing against you,” he said. “I’ve just got a hunch that my crew is gonna move out for real soon, and I don’t want to get taken by surprise.”

“I find it hard to believe you can be surprised.” But Kuroo sat up, stretching with a yawn, and Daichi did not look at how the sheets pooled in his lap. “You’re probably right, though,” he said through the tail of his yawn. “Wind’s changing. I can smell it.” His mouth quirked. “We’re not too long for this place ourselves. Gotta keep moving.”

Daichi chewed his cheek as Kuroo fished his own underwear from the rumpled bedsheets, squirming into them as he slithered to his feet. Daichi scratched his head – saw the flash of his belt tucked between the mattress and the bedframe. He dug it out and tied it on – oh, his hairtie was on Kuroo’s wrist. And Kuroo’s was on his. He took it off and held it out, face hot. Kuroo blinked at it for a bit, then let out a little ah. They traded, teal for maroon, hands brushing. Daichi swallowed.

“I’m not really– practiced, at this whole short-term one-night-stand thing,” he tried, rubbing the back of his neck. Kuroo waited, that half-a-head height difference Daichi was finding he liked looming over him. “So.” He cleared his throat and stuck out his hand. “It was nice to meet you.”

Kuroo stared at it. Rubbed at his temple with two fingers. Huffed and shook it, full forearm Water Tribe style. “You’re something else, puppy.”

Daichi shrugged. “That’s what people keep telling me.” They let go. “Take care of yourself.”

Kuroo sighed with his whole body and clapped Daichi on the shoulder. “You too.” Daichi flashed a final smile and slipped out the door, running fingers through his hair as he went.

Kuroo’s room was on the opposite half of the two-prong inn from the Seijoh block of rooms, separated by a ragged courtyard. Daichi slipped down the stairs to cut through the courtyard as he fought his hair into something he could tie back. He probably looked a right mess, so hopefully he didn’t run into anyone before–

He shoved open the courtyard door with a shoulder and walked straight into an all-Seijoh staff meeting. He froze, the creak of the door drawing everyone’s attention to him. “Uh.”

“Daichi Sawamura!” Tooru’s smile stabbed him from over three dozen heads and fifty feet of cobblestone. “How kind of you to join us!” Daichi, hands still caught in his hairtie, glanced around at a sea of amused or disgusted faces. Shinji in the middle winced and shrugged. Daichi ground his teeth. “Ah, your hand’s up,” Tooru continued in his honey-vinegar voice, “How wonderful of you to volunteer.”

Daichi sighed, hands falling from his hair. “What am I volunteering for this time?” he asked, pitching his voice over the heads between them.

“Nope! You lost the privilege to know by being late!” Daichi showed him the back of his hand, and the group chuckled – even Irihata at Tooru’s shoulder. Tooru pouted. “Take a seat, dear.” Daichi rolled his eyes and picked his way through legs to Ryuu and Shinji, who had Snowflake held down between them.

“I trusted you,” he whispered to Shinji, who shrugged again and let the puppy attack her person.

“Never said I’d keep it a secret.”

“How could you,” Ryuu hissed, punching Daichi’s leg, teeth gritted. “The worst human being in the worst town?” Daichi opened a hand. Ryuu groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Never should have told you that you were hot,” he moaned behind his palms. Shinji snickered.

Diachi didn’t respond to that, but scooted around to face Tooru’s stone bench stage and slot between them. Snowflake rolled away until he settled and she could climb back into her favorite lap. “So what have I lost the privilege to know?” he murmured behind her ears as Tooru kept talking and shooting him dirty looks.

“We’re splitting up,” Shinji whispered, leaning closer. “They found a boat that’ll take the cargo, but it’s not big enough for everyone and the animals. We’re drafting who goes where now.”

“Oh.” He watched Ken get shoved around by some of the drivers – the same group that had stayed with him on land – as they all raised their hands to stay with the road work and the animals. “So which did I volunteer for, then?”

“The boat.” Shinji hid his grin behind his hand. “I think Oikawa has separation anxiety issues.”

“I am not his dad.” Shinji and Ryuu exchanged a melodramatic look around Snowflake. He flicked both of them in the ar. “Shut it.”

The chatter broke up when Shigeru’s hand went up across the courtyard, face set. “I am not letting that wild animal kill himself again when I can do something about it.” Ken growled, but Shigeru bared his teeth and glared right back. Shinji sighed.

“I’ll make sure they don’t kill each other,” he said, hand up and head down.

Tooru opened a hand. “Thank you for your sacrifice, Watacchi.”

One by one, everyone sounded off their choice. Most of the drivers elected to stay on land with Shinji, Shigeru, and Ken, to finish the road work and guide the string of ostrich-horses and Happy through the mountains. Hajime and Ryuu were coming with Tooru and Daichi, along with the two Ukais, Issei, Takahiro, Akira, and Yuutarou, to protect the cargo on the questionable water route and then cart it the last bit inland from the mouth of the Green River in Chameleon Bay to the meeting point at Wakunan South. To the surprise of everyone (including Tooru), Irihata announced he would lead the land crew and leave Tooru in charge of the cargo and its guards. Daichi didn’t miss the flash in Tooru’s rounded eyes at Irihata’s shoulder clap before he collected himself back into his benevolent dictator front and went back to business.

“We’ve got the day to pack up the ship and say goodbye,” he wrapped up with a clap. “We all leave tomorrow at dawn.” He cut his eyes at Daichi. “No tardiness.” Daichi just raised an eyebrow over Snowflake’s kisses, and Tooru wrinkled his nose back.

Everyone stood to leave, but Hajime and Irihata were both still staring at Tooru, so Daichi stayed put until he called out, “Oh! And one more thing!” The mutters died, and he flashed his cliff-jumping grin. “The ship’s Fire Nation.” A blink, then an uproar, everyone yelling back at a placid Tooru flanked by a weary Irihata and an exhausted Hajime. Daichi buried his headache in Snowflake’s ruff and moaned.

No one liked it, but Tooru had made his decision to commission the Fire Nation envoy and that was that. Daichi pieced the story together through the morning of packing and everyone coming to him to bitch about it. The grandpa Ukai had been drinking with the night before was the captain of the Nekoma, a locally famous Fire Navy ship gone pirate some years back. The grandpa himself was an old friend of Ukai’s grandpa from before the war, drinking together when ports coincided until the Fire Nation attacked and the Water Tribe withdrew into isolation. Grandpa recognized the Ukai face and, in the course of catching up, learned about their predicament and offered his ship’s services. The bartender vouched for the Nekoma to Irihata and Tooru, and that was enough to get the ball rolling.

After the initial shock, it made sense. The River Tranquil was the unsteady border between the two powers, and since the Earth Kingdom’s navy wasn’t its strongest asset, a Fire Navy vessel would have an easier time running the gauntlet. Still, Daichi knew that no one on the Oikawa staff would be happy about it until they died. Tobio was the only one who seemed excited, vibrating as he shot rapidfire questions at his uncle, at Tooru, at Irihata, at anyone who stood still long enough to listen. It was kind of cute, but it was a little tedious when Daichi still had his hangover headache.

They carted the first load of cargo to the designated dock to meet Nekoma’s runner crew after a tense lunch. Daichi was forced along by a still huffy Tooru, who hadn’t let him out of sight all day. Ryuu tagged along for similar reasons. That was also getting old – at least he could have gotten a headache fix from a Shigeru tail. Oh well. They would forget about it once they got on the road. Or the water. Fuck, boats again.

A few sailors indistinguishable from the rest of the harbor puttered around the skiff at the meeting moor, as beat-up and wooden as the dock. All of the faces had been scenery on the road crew as well, which was a good sign. Daichi ticked them off as they drove to the edge of the pier and maneuvered the two rented carts into ideal unloading position. There was the quiet guy with the loud monkey-macaw, the easygoing version of Ryuu, the moody version of Ryuu, the grandpa from last night, the tall girl with the huge puff of a bun, and-

Daichi froze where stone met wood, skin washing as a giant paintbrush of a ponytail swung down from the deck to the dock, smirking at Tooru in the lead of the Oikawa representatives. “Good afternoon sir-” He got to Daichi in the lineup and the greeting trailed into a long errr. “Puppy?”

“Puppy?” Multiple voices on both sides screamed. Heat flushed through all of Daichi’s limbs and his face and his chest and his everything, throat closing up as Kuroo turned a similar hot red. Tooru was screeching, Ryuu was howling – someone on deck threw a bucket at Kuroo’s head and missed – but Daichi and Kuroo were stuck in the shit. Daichi swallowed.

“Oh.”

Chapter Text

It was a tense departure the next morning. After a final dawn drill and a farewell breakfast, the two halves of Seijoh split, land crew headed to the mountains, water to the docks. Daichi kept his head down as they boarded the nondescript runner, neck burning as everyone but Kuroo stared at him or the ponytail.

The beat-up fisher was just the ferry between the pier and the actual Nekoma, moored in a pocket of the harbor out of sight of the unsuspecting Earth Kingdom traders. The curved dark metal of the helm tapering to a sharp point three stories overhead took Daichi’s breath away, more fortress than any ship he had ever seen. It drew the eye as they sailed around it to the back, the top of a watchtower just visible above the high sides. What was this thing like on the inside?

There was a waterline door in the back – the stern – that creaked down on heavy chains. Two of the ship’s crew leaped from the fisher to the ankle-deep water to haul it in with waiting hooks on more chains, water sluicing off the sides as it was dragged inside by methods unseen. The waterbenders gave it a final push up, and the door cranked shut on the sunlight.

The belly of the beast was claustrophobic and red-lanterned, crowded with the assorted clutter of a catch-all storage room. Snowflake jumped out before anyone else to investigate her new environment. Daichi let her go – it wasn’t like she could run away – and followed suit, gear bag slung over his shoulder. Kuroo paused on the rail to give some orders to the crew exiting around him, inaudible from Daichi’s distance. When everyone was off the fisher, he kicked the side of the boat with a bass thump and held up a hand for (grudging) silence. He smiled, that smirk that never worked on Daichi, and slapped fist to palm.

“Okay! Welcome aboard the Nekoma, honored guests!” He spread his hands wide. “The ship is your oyster. Feel free to be idle or make yourself useful as we need.” He patted the shoulder of the little Tadashi copy hovering at his side. “Shibayama and Fukunaga will show you to the guest cabins.” The monkey-macaw squawked from the other side of the boat. A final smirk. “If you need anything, feel free to stop any one of us and ask.” He jumped down to the metal deck, heralding the return of the murmurs and movements.

Daichi looked for Ryuu to partner up with and keep him out of the trouble he could smell on the wind. He was already giving moody-Ryuu the stinkeye. Daichi sighed and wove past Issei and Takahiro, who were also trying to be intimidating, and knocked them on the heads to quit it before snatching the back of Ryuu’s belt and yanking him back. “Be good,” he hissed in his ear. “Got enough to worry about without you picking a fight.”

“Boss, this is a ship of wise guys,” Ryuu hissed back. “You know I can’t stand that type!”

“Please, spirits above and below, just give me a day,” he groaned, knocking his forehead on Ryuu’s shoulder. “Is that too much to ask.”

“Can’t make any promises about their behavior.” Daichi slapped down the forming rude gesture blind. “Boss!”

“Oh, dear!” Tooru’s piercing wail called. “Come here, I need you!”

“I need a nap,” Daichi muttered, but he shrugged off his bag and handed it to Ryuu. “If you start trouble I’m telling Suga,” he warned. Ryuu accepted the gear bag with a salute and wide eyes. Daichi sighed and followed the sound of the squealing pig-monkey.

Tooru was squared off with Kuroo back by the boat, even heights not allowing for either’s usual looming tactic – although they still tried. It would be funny, if Daichi didn’t really need a nap. Hajime, Ukai, and Tobio talked with Nekomata to the side in calm voices, but Daichi wasn’t worried about them behaving. Without looking at Kuroo, Daichi stomped over and grabbed Tooru’s arm, back to his opponent, and snapped, “Stop being a child.”

“Aw, is the puppy the trainer now?” Daichi shot Kuroo a look over his shoulder, and Kuroo took a step back. “Uh-” He cleared his throat. “Well, I was just trying to tell Oikawa here that he should wait to get settled in before we go through the travel details-”

“And I was telling him that I would like to learn where this burnt-out rustbucket of a ship was taking us as soon as possible, thank you very much.” He cut a smile over Daichi’s head. Daichi pinched his side. Tooru yelped and pouted at Daichi, who sighed.

“It’s best to humor him when he’s like this,” he explained to Kuroo over his shoulder, not quite meeting his eyes. “Otherwise he just keeps being a six-foot infant.”

“Excuse you, I’m at least a toddler,” Tooru snapped.

Kuroo chuckled. “Well, if you insist.” He gestured with his chin at the stairs the rest of the two crews were trickling up, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking towards it. Daichi let Tooru’s arm go to shove him forward, the sane adults following at their own pace.

“You’re worse than Ryuu right now,” Daichi chastised through clenched teeth. “He’s at least trying not to pick a fight before lunch.”

“But he’s awful,” Tooru whined, letting Daichi push him, leaning back into it so he could bitch more. “And that’s from before I knew he was Fire Nation!”

“You dealt with Tadashi just fine.”

“He was an adorable small child! This is a sleazy pirate who wants in your pants! Again!”

“I’m not going to apologize, if that’s what you’re heading towards.” He switched to two hands when they got to the foot of the stairs. “Act your age, for once.”

“You act your age.” Daichi gave him one last shove, but Tooru didn’t give him the satisfaction of tripping.

Kuroo’s silhouette waited at the top, backlit by more red. “Coming, sweetheart?”

“Don’t even,” Daichi warned. Tooru grumbled, but kept his thoughts to himself and stomped faster.

Kuroo led them through a metal maze worse than the glacier armory and up endless red stairs, testing the limits of Daichi’s control over Tooru’s temper with casual remarks designed to burrow under his skin with an accuracy he shouldn’t possess yet. Daichi was really going to miss Shigeru before the week was out.

The stairs ended at a control room, three-sided with windows – the top of the watchtower. The easygoing Ryuu copy was at the wheel by the front window while the tall girl with the explosive hair watched, flipping a butterfly knife around idly. The buttons and levers of the control panel they were handling was decades beyond the gig they used to shake dirt from tea leaves in the processing barn. They both glanced back at their entry. “Good morning,” the other-other Ryuu called in a low voice.

Kuroo lifted a hand; Tooru was still puffy about Kuroo calling him puffy up the last stairs. Daichi forced a smile in their stead. “Morning.”

“That’s Kai, the helmsman, and his apprentice Akane.” Kuroo showed teeth with his grin at Tooru. “She’s not available.”

“Kuroo, I will cut you.” She sighed and hopped off her perch on an empty section of the counter. “I better make sure my brother doesn’t kill any of the new lot before they pay us,” she said with a familiar defeated tone. She glanced back at the helmsman. “You got this without me?” He smiled. She yanked on Kuroo’s ponytail as she passed, snickering when he squawked. Nekomata held the door for her with a smirk.

“Good, you’re here,” Tooru said as the trailing, non-competitive group filed in the narrow doorway. “Can the person really in charge take over from this miscreant here?”

Nekomata chuckled as Kuroo perched on the edge of the round center table, a collection of mismatched maps over a pai sho board. “As I was explaining to your friends here,” he said in his elder growl, “It’s too much to expect me to keep up with these children every day.” He opened a hand at Kuroo, who lifted his. “So my spritely first mate runs the dailies.”

“I’m sure you could run circles around me if you wanted, sir.” He smiled at a pink-faced Tooru. “I can field all the questions your pretty little head can have, precious.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Tooru hissed under his breath, lips barely moving. Daichi laid a hand on his back.

“Understood,” Daichi answered for him, shoving him to the gambling-map table. “So go over the route. Please.” He glared at Tooru, who didn’t give in but didn’t bite back. Close enough.

The ship steamed out as they talked logistics, structure rumbling under Daichi’s feet as the helmsman Kai flipped through the mess of his control panel and talked to a metal mouth that talked back in an angry echo. Daichi wanted to ask, but he had enough in his bowl keeping Tooru in line (which Hajime was decidedly not helping with, instead giving Ukai bad advice in pai sho). At least it was a distraction from being awkward around Kuroo.

They were arguing about resupply stops when the helmsman whistled from the wheel. Tooru didn’t blink, but Kuroo turned to look with a frown. “Yeah?”

“Trouble on deck,” he called back, almost a song. Kuroo cursed and got up from his rickety folding chair to look out the window. Daichi followed, curious, and immediately regretted learning just how high they were above the water. He gripped the tiny lip of the frame – how rich was the Fire Nation, that even their outcasts could have glass windows – and looked down at the trouble. Teal and maroon alike were in a loose ring around two figures, one with a yellow stripe down his head and the other shaved dark.

“Oh, earth and fire,” Daichi cursed.

“You mean earth versus fire,” Kuroo amended. Daichi and Kai stared at him.

“Now I understand why everyone hates you,” he said before running to the stairs, ignoring the looks and not checking to see if Kuroo was tumbling after.

He fell down them to the level he remembered seeing sunlight on, chasing its smell to a deck door and bursting out into the crisp midmorning. The ring had tightened, puffs of flame and a familiar crow carrying over it. Daichi found a teal shoulder – Yuutarou – to shove aside, ready to drag Ryuu out and toss him on the ocean for Akira to find-

Paused. Ryuu was pinned to the deck, face bleeding from a shallow cut and ends of his rope-belt singed, the blond’s claw-gloved hands at his throat. He grinned. “Dude! That was awesome!” The blond’s feral snarl shrank to a curl – Ryuu flipped him off with a roll and a twist that landed him in a crouch in front of a surprised mohawk, grabbing his hand to check out his gauntlet. “Where did you get these? Can I have some? Can you teach me that spin kick thing you did earlier but without the fire?” Daichi pinched the bridge of his nose as Ryuu’s new best friend sputtered through an onslaught of aggressive enthusiasm. Someone booed from the back – Takahiro was sick with laughter, curled in a ball on the deck. Akane stomped over and kicked Mohawk’s shoulder with excellent form. They had the same face; must be that brother. Her brother punched her thigh in reflex with the hand not caught by Ryuu. She snapped back at him, color high on her cheeks. Ryuu threw his head back and laughed at them both.

Daichi turned to leave and caught Kuroo as he was making his way across the deck, taking his own sweet time. “Did Yamamoto lose already?” he asked, too happy about one of his crew proving inferior to a landlubber. Daichi shook his head.

“False alarm,” he answered. “Just Ryuu making a friend, in his own way.” He flicked his hand back at the tower. “C’mon, let’s get back to you antagonizing Tooru.”

“I can’t help it if he makes it so easy.” Kuroo fell into step with Daichi, the itchy fire that had been burning under Daichi’s skin flaring up. He scratched a palm. “How has someone not killed him yet?”

“He’s proven to have his uses.” He rolled his thumb into the space between his first and second knuckles. Fuck it. “How long are we going to keep dancing around this?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. Kuroo blinked at him, then smiled and held open the hatch door for him.

“As long as it’s fun.” He caught Daichi’s hand as he stepped over the threshold and spun him under his arm, Daichi’s Water Tribe boots squeaking on steel. “Something tells me you’ll be a good dance partner.”

Daichi blinked a few times, swallowing on stars and a dry throat. “I’m still learning the steps.”

Kuroo smiled and dropped his hand. “That’s half the fun.”

After a long, long day spent babysitting two grown men acting like squabbling puppies, Daichi was grateful to escape to anywhere else. He bolted for the main deck line before Tooru could throw out any beseeching dears or Kuroo could try to dance with him again. He had to find where his real puppy had run off to, after all.

He wandered the narrow berths of the ship, every red-lit corridor the same to his untrained eye. The ship wasn’t that big, but neither was the crew, so he didn’t run into many people as he picked his way down flimsy wire staircases and poked his head in open doors, calling for Snowflake in low tones that echoed down the ship like trick canyons.

He was pretty low in the belly of the beast when he heard familiar yips under his feet. He knelt to peer through a crack in the floor panels. “Snow?”

“Is this your mutt?” the voice from the trumpet upstairs yelled. “Come get it out of here before I burn its tail off!” She yipped more, a teenager’s laughter overlaid on it. “Quit encouraging it!” the voice snapped.

Daichi bit his cheek and looked around for some stairs. “How do I get down?”

“Figure it out your damn self!”

“There’s a ladder two – three doors down on the – left?” the teenaged voice said through laughs and barks. “Stop, that tickles!”

Daichi chuckled. “Okay, I’ll be right down.”

It took a few tries to find the right door and slide down the dark ladder. The space it led to wasn’t quite a room, but a steamy, low-ceilinged network of hot pipes and grills over a rickety grate walkway. Daichi followed the path to the distant voices through the machinery, rumbling through his chest like a snoring gorilla-goat. He rounded a mottled heat source and found Snowflake’s white fur dusty grey with soot and grease, playing with the Tadashi-like kid and a new face, short sand-colored hair bushing out over bug-eyed goggles. He tugged them down around his neck to scowl at Daichi, pale skin stark against the smoke-stained outline. “You! You let this thing loose!” Snowflake scrambled out of the kid’s hold to throw herself at Daichi, who knelt to accept her filthy kisses. “Why would you let a fox-dog loose on my ship?”

Daichi grinned. “Sorry. I can only control her so much.” He looked around as he scooped her in his arms and stood. “What is this place, anyway?”

“The real heart of the Nekoma,” he snapped like Daichi had insulted his mother. “This-” he slapped metal- “is what makes her purr.”

“It’s the engine room,” the kid – Shiba-something – explained, flicking his bangs from his face. “Will you try to be nice to the guests, Mr. Mori?” He beamed at Daichi, teeth white in a dark face. “Sorry, he’s always grumpy after a takeoff.”

“I’ll take you off this ship if you don’t learn some manners, boy!” ‘Mr. Mori’ whipped a greasy rag out with a snap, but not-Tadashi saw it coming and danced away. Something clanked deeper in the beast, and Mori cursed. “Not again!” He yanked his goggles back on his face and hauled himself into a shoulder-high cranny, wiggling through. “Kid! I need the-”

“I know, I know!” He was already running to the tool bin built into the only visible section of wall. “See ya later, sir!”

“It’s Daichi, not sir, kid!” he called.

Not-Tadashi flashed a grin and a thumbs-up. “It’s Yuki, not kid, sir!”

Daichi laughed. “Got it. Yuki!” He left them to their work, crooning at Snowflake about baths as he climbed the ladder one-handed (how had she even gotten down there?) to find a waterbender.

A happy puppy and an unhappy Akira later, Daichi let her loose on the barren open deck, chasing crew and crew alike, sniffing in every crevice and barking at the circling ocean birds. Ryuu and the siblings were still exchanging fighting techniques by the bow, Tobio edging closer but not quite daring to ask admission. Takahiro and Issei were trading a flask at the port side, glaring at the distant shoreline; Yuutarou was watching Akira surf in the wake of the Nekoma, anxious and yelling about a waterbender in the water. Everyone else was below deck or working, Kuroo that magnetic north as he helped monkey-macaw guy out near the tower. He had changed from his grungy Earth Kingdom disguise to something clean-lined and red, ponytail twisted on the top of his head instead of his nape.

Daichi closed his eyes and tilted his head back, holding onto his crate-seat for balance as he breathed in the constant salt wind of their movement and the soft heat of the approaching sunset. He preferred land above all, of course, but this boat was much better than the skin-and-bones of the water skimmers. He could live with this for a month or so.

Boot heels clacked closer. “Nice evening.” Daichi cracked an eye as Kuroo walked up, monkey-macaw busy being introduced to fox-dog by its owner. Kuroo smiled, highlighted by the low sun. “Might be a little chilly once the sun sets.” He hopped up next to Daichi with a sigh as he sat. “Might have to bundle up tonight.”

Daichi raised an eyebrow. “Take you all day to think of that one?” He kicked a foot in Snowflake’s direction, her tail up as she investigated the creature being held down to her level. “Besides, that’s what I’ve got a walking fur coat for.” Kuroo gasped, hand to his chest.

“You mean to say a fox-dog is more important than me?”

“Yes.” Kuroo grinned, and Daichi had to grin back. “Is that even a real question?”

Kuroo heaved a longer, two-toned sigh, slumping back on his elbows and propping a boot up on the crate. “Guess I should have known where your loyalties lie.”

They lapsed into silence, wind whistle whiting out the need for conversation – but Daichi wanted it. He bent back his fingers, one by one, eyes unfocused as the two animals bickered over feathers and claws. “Look,” he started. Kuroo hummed. “I don’t want to try to pretend like – there’s nothing here, or that the other night didn’t happen.” Thumb pressed into his palm to make his fingers dance. “But I also don’t want to piss off my guys too much, or upset your crew’s rhythm.”

“They’ve proven rather resilient to my personal life in the past. I don’t think anything between us will change that.” He tugged on the hem of Daichi’s tunic, still reclined behind his field of vision. “Are you worried about yours that much?”

Daichi grinned over his shoulder. “They hate you.” Kuroo laughed, teeth and throat bared. Summer flooded his veins.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” He pushed off his elbows to sit upright, knocking shoulders. “I don’t mind giving you space to figure it out.” He pulled twice on Daichi’s ponytail. “You know where to find me if you want me.” He winked and hopped off the crate, meandering back to the tower and inside the ship. Daichi watched him go – he looked much better in red than dirt green. The end of his high ponytail just flipped the top of his tunic collar with every step, gold sunlight shining off silk-

He flopped back hard enough to hurt, clenching his eyes shut and groaning.

Days slipped by on the Nekoma as it skirted the northern shore of the continent, its even pace and high walls dulling the awareness of the land sliding past on the left. Clashes between the two sides flared up in sparks – mostly with Issei or Akane’s brother, Taketora, as the instigator. Taketora just had a chip on his shoulder about anyone who looked at his sister, but Issei was locked in a foul mood that even the combined efforts of Takahiro and Daichi couldn’t shake. Daichi had to leave Takahiro to it – he had too many other bearded dragon-cats to herd.

Everyone else at least pretended to adjust, Snowflake and Ryuu breaking down walls that food and close quarters couldn’t. Cross-team friendships formed; along with Ryuu and his new friends, Yuki and Yuutarou got along like a house on fire; Hajime spent long hours not-talking with Kai up at the helm; Nekomata barely let Ukai out of his sight without telling him some story about the trouble he got into with his grandfather. The old man took a shine to Daichi, too, when he learned of his place of origin – apparently the Sugawaras were an international brand – and caught him when his other pai sho partners escaped his clutches to kick his ass and ask about the farm.

Morning drills were the peak of the tension. With Seijoh’s depleted numbers and the Nekoma’s half-active fighting force, they performed in tandem, but sparring time always turned sharp, like the dick-waving from the North Pole drills but with live blades instead of dull practice metal. Ryuu and the Yamamoto siblings traded techniques like candy at a festival, but the rest were guarded, testing strengths more than keeping in shape. Daichi didn’t play, instead escaping to explore the mess under their feet with Snowflake at his heel. Together, they managed to learn the layout by the third day, although there were still some question marks behind locked doors he didn’t try to force open. They were locked for a reason.

He ended up in the engine room more than once, moving coal and learning how to help the engineer and his assistant so he could do something useful with his hands again. It was dirty and hot down there, but it was fun kind of dirty, with Mori’s excitable bitching and Yuki’s excitable optimism. Mori – or Yaku, as he kept trying to get Daichi to call him – didn’t care what element someone could bend as long as they kept out of his way. He entertained his audience with old stories about Kuroo’s training days that had Daichi and Yuki doubling over the engine supports, gasping for air through tears as he mimed a drunk fall off a dorm bed that sprained his ankle. It was fun, learning some context behind the haircut even as he tried to keep his distance from it.

Daichi was waiting between coal moves at an awkward spot in the engine room, stuck out of sight of both mechanics as they yelled back and forth about a spot repair on a boiler or something. The full system still didn’t make a whole lot of sense to him, but he could obey orders, and they both appreciated not wearing out their arms shoveling coal. “Y’all almost done down there?” he called, wiping some sweat off on the hem of his tunic. “It’s hot in here.”

“Oh, quit your yappin’,” Mori cried, “it’s warm!” Daichi chuckled, kicking his heels and listening to the moans of the ship. It was hot and humid down here, steam coating the walls in dew and ventilation as complex as the engine blowing odd-colored smokes at random times. Despite this, it was hard to breathe enough, like when they were in the high mountains and thin air. He rubbed at his hair, closing his eyes. All this red light was starting to give him a headache. Why couldn’t Shigeru have come along?

He pulled his borrowed goggles down to press his palms into his eyes, gasping. His throat was closing – stomach twisting – something wasn’t right. He gritted his teeth and scooted down the ledge he was sitting on – was that the right way out? No, this was the right way. “Y’all?” He cleared his throat. “Hey, y’all.” The bickering stuttered to a halt. Yuki’s face poked in the end of the crawlspace, a black silhouette with dangling hair.

“Something wrong, boss?” Daichi didn’t have the concentration to chide him for the ‘boss’ name he had picked up from Yuutarou. He hissed, world spinning as he slipped off the end of the ledge to his feet.

“I think-” He swallowed, hands over his eyes. Would the world stop swirling? “I think I need to lie down…” He stumbled into something hot. Yuki yelped, banging through to him, a leagues-away hand grabbing his elbow.

“Boss! Where were you?” Daichi’s body was pulled on, babble rolling over him like waves. The air opened up. “Mr. Mori-”

“Oh, fuck. Ah, shit.” More hands caught his other side, sitting him down – he pitched as the ground tilted with the motion. “I don’t care what those lumpheads gotta say about it,” he snapped, “go get Kenma!”

Yuki might have responded, but Daichi’s fuzzy ears didn’t catch it. Mori’s hands rubbed down his arms, patted his cheek. “Hey. Don’t go to sleep on me now. Stay awake.”

Daichi moaned, frowning against the headache. “Whuz…”

“Gas poisoning. Seen it before.” Mori cursed. “Knew I should never let a land rat around sensitive areas, knew you’d get hurt-” He caught on something hot on Daichi’s forearm, and he cried out. “See! Poisoned and burned! A right mess I’ve made of this!” Daichi clutched his hot arm close, bracing against the swirl of ache and nausea swelling in his head and his throat and his chest, limbs shaking. “Fuck, we gotta get you out of here.” He tried to coax Daichi to stand, but the world couldn’t decide which way was down anymore. Mori let out a continuous stream of curses – not pleasant, but it kept Daichi from passing out, even as black spots swam across his vision.

“Got him!” Yuki’s boots clanged on the grates louder than ever. “Here, down here!”

Daichi cracked an eye – closed it. Soft rustles swept around him, small hands cupping his face so the thumbs rested on his temples. They were hot, not the ice he had come to expect, but they came with the usual relief. He sighed.

“Get him up,” a quiet voice said. “Get him out.” The other two rushed to comply, propping Daichi up between them. He tried to help, but he was stuck in a storm on the sea, dipping and bobbing and he couldn’t focus-

Forced his eyes open. Heavy gold ones, cat-eyes, watched him through a hair curtain a foot from his, glinting red in the swinging lantern light. The hands held his face again. He sighed, the black spots growing to swallow him.

Chapter Text

Daichi woke up like bubbles popping, soft and fizzy. His head hurt, but the subtle heat surrounding it eased the pain to just hangover levels. He blinked his eyes open – orange flickered across it. There was a warm weight pressed against his hip. He reached down to meet Snowflake’s wet nose, huffing over his palm and leaving damp streaks. His forearm was wrapped in something – something sticky on his skin, something lukewarm. His eyelids fluttered – he couldn’t seem to keep them open. He closed them for a minute as a confusing input of sensations settled into a quiet room and a soft bed. And someone breathing next to him with bigger lungs than Snowflake.

He opened his eyes to look, colors swirling into Kuroo, arms crossed and chin on his chest, dozing in a chair by Daichi’s bed with his socked feet propped on the edge. Daichi struggled to swallow. “Kuroo?”

It was quiet enough that even Daichi’s hoarse scratch woke him up from his catnap, blinking it away as his feet slid to the floor. “Puppy?” He smiled, bags under his eyes and hair a mess. Daichi’s heart thumped in his ears. “How you feeling?”

Daichi frowned as he took stock. His skin itched from soot, the forearm wrap was tight, the hot thing around his face was – odd, but he didn’t have any of that nausea and he could breathe. “Fine,” he rasped. Cleared his throat. “Thirsty?”

“Oh, shit, of course.” Kuroo got up to pour him some water from a pitcher across the room, tension coiled between his tight shoulders. Daichi sat up slowly, pushing up on his elbows to prop against the wall the bed was shoved against. Snowflake crawled with him, whining as she stayed curled against his side. Kuroo turned in time to catch her licking Daichi’s hand, face softening. “She’s a good girl,” he said in a quiet voice that rumbled through Daichi from across the room. “Found you out before I could even get down here.” He crossed to press the cup into Daichi’s hands, waving one of his own past Daichi’s face. The weird heat faded. “About scared the life outta me,” he said with a grin.

Daichi sipped the water and weighed his questions. “So… what happened to me?”

Kuroo’s grin tightened to a flat line. “I would never have let you help Yaku down there if I had known you were.” Daichi raised an eyebrow over a lackluster glare. “The engine room’s dangerous,” he explained, perching on the edge of the bed and holding eye contact. “The machinery generates fumes that aren’t safe for people to breathe. Yaku and his monkey know where they are and how to avoid them, but it’s an invisible fox-bear trap to normal, non-gearhead folk.” He looked away, reaching across Daichi’s lap to scratch Snowflake’s ears. “You could have died,” he mumbled. “People have before.”

Daichi swallowed, throat still dry after a full cup of water. “Oh.” Kuroo didn’t lean back, still stretched across his lap to pet a subdued puppy. He turned the cup in his hands. “How long was I out?”

Kuroo shrugged. “Not long. An hour, maybe two.” He grinned only a foot away from Daichi’s face. He could feel his breath when he said, “I had barely fallen asleep.”

Daichi tried to smile back. “I’m sure.” He licked dry lips – Kuroo’s eyes flicked down – he jerked away, standing and taking the cup from Daichi to refill it. Daichi tried to breathe again as he clutched the sheet he was lying on, face hot. Heat on his temples, gold eyes boring into his. “Who’s Kenma?”

Kuroo’s shoulders hitched up, a sharp inhale from the other side of the ponytail. He turned on Daichi with that same tight smile from when he told Tooru Akane wasn’t for flirting (not that they ever had that impression). “I’m afraid Yaku overstepped his bounds,” he said in his butterscotch lying voice, coming back to hand the cup over. “Kenma doesn’t meet guests.” He nodded at the cup. “Drink.”

Daichi did, but didn’t break eye contact. “If- if this is going to be a thing,” he said, gesturing between them, “you’re going to have to tell me a few secrets.”

The smile tightened. “It’s not my secret to tell.”

Daichi chewed his cheek, eyes narrowed. “So I can’t thank a person who saved my life?”

“I’ll pass the sentiment along.” He stretched and yawned. “If you’re really feeling fine, we can go back abovedeck, it’s dinnertime.” He tugged his topknot tighter. “And I’m sure your boys are wondering where we are.”

Daichi blinked. “You didn’t tell them?” Kuroo winked, and Daichi groaned, rolling to his feet. The world shifted, but that could just be the rock of the ship. “It’s like you want them to hate you,” he growled, throwing the mostly-empty cup at Kuroo and stomping out, tearing off the sticky arm wrap and throwing it on the ground, Snowflake at his heel and Kuroo’s ugly laugh at his back.

Late that night, after he had been chastised, made fun of, and babied based on who thought what, Daichi snuck out of his and Ryuu’s room to wander. Snowflake came with him, heeding his ‘hush’ order without even a treat. Kuroo may have thought he was too busy being pissed to remember where the room he had been in was, but he knew this ship well enough now. He snuck down a flight of stairs, sliding down the rails on his hands without his feet touching noisy grate, and stole through dim hallways, Water Tribe boots and paws muffled by the sounds of the ship. Ships were noisy, Daichi had learned.

He got to the door and paused. Somehow, he hadn’t thought about this part yet. Did he knock? It was late, and he didn’t want to wake anyone up… Fuck it.

He knocked – not too hard, but enough to be heard by an awake person. He stepped back, chewing on his tongue – there were better ways to do this, this was stupid-

The door unlocked and slid open. Kuroo was there, hair down and wild past his shoulders, half-dressed. They stared at each other, Kuroo blinking sleep from his eyes. After a breath, Kuroo gathered himself enough to smirk and ask, “What are you doing here, puppy?”

Daichi floundered in a waterfall of panic, face and ears burning. “Uh- well- I was-”

Kuroo’s smirk grew into a smile. He posed against the doorway, forearm braced by his head and other hand on his hip. “It’s not the most polite to make up your mind in the middle of the night, y’know.”

“No! No, it was-” He pressed a knuckle to his bubbly mouth. “Something else.” He rubbed the heel of his hand into his eye with a groan. “Fuck, sorry, this was stupid, I was just trying to be polite but I guess I’ve been away from home too long and I don’t even remember what polite is although I know y’all gotta have different ideas on polite and I should’ve just written a thank-you card-” He sucked in a breath. “Maybe my head’s not as clear as I thought,” he said, laughing without humor.

“Hey.” He looked up at Kuroo; face set and serious. “We can talk about it, if you want. Just talking, no touching. I promise.” His mouth twitched. “Probably wasn’t gonna sleep much tonight, anyway.”

Daichi stared, at the stretched-out neck of an undershirt, the ridiculous hair explosion, the long arms and the patient eyes waiting on him. “I wouldn’t mind touching,” he breathed. “That wasn’t what I was here to do, of course, I thought this was that Kenma’s room, I wanted-”

And just like that, the mood shuttered. Kuroo’s face closed off as he stood straight, looming over Daichi in that frustrating intimidation tactic. “Afraid it’s not,” he said, tone low. “You really should get that curiosity looked into. Good night, Daichi.” The door slammed shut between them, leaving Daichi whiplashed and breathless.

Well, if Daichi wasn’t curious before, he was now. As the Nekoma puffed along the coast towards the river mouth, Daichi tried to catch conversations between the crew, but the name ‘Kenma’ never came up. If he didn’t have occasional shortness of breath or Mori and Yuki keeping him from returning to the engine room and avoiding his questions, he would have thought he hallucinated the entire thing, but the furtive side glances from Mori and the continued distance Kuroo was keeping was just enough to cement its reality. He couldn’t even run the theory past Seijoh – none of them knew the gas poisoning incident had happened, and he would prefer they not panic about old news.

The only one he could really talk to was Snowflake during their constant training sessions. At least she didn’t slam the door in his face, even if she couldn’t answer his questions. She had been learning at a ferocious pace – faster than any sheepdog back home. She already knew a dozen commands, the names and faces of everyone on board, when to be still and when it was okay to play. She also liked to make her favorite playmates test her commands, fetching items and dancing on her back legs for anyone with a treat. She probably ate more than Yuutarou and Takahiro combined, anything and everything. Maybe he should have checked to see how big she would get… oh well.

He was running her routine on the deck with dinner’s scraps a few days after his brush with death. It was still eating at him that he hadn’t done anything for the person who had pulled him away from it, and that he kept being knocked aside from trying to fulfill this need. He didn’t try to ask Kuroo anymore, avoiding the topic by avoiding him, which also ate at him. Ryuu thought it was just a star-crossed lovers thing and absolutely hilarious, and Daichi didn’t feel like dealing with an explanation. He was yelling about fist weapons or something with Taketora now, leaving Daichi to put Snowflake through her paces.

She ran her lineup in record time. He fed her two extra treats and sat down to give her a thorough rubdown. “Good girl,” he crooned, scratching her belly when she rolled over. “Who’s a good girl?” She yipped, and he smiled. “I bet you know where Kenma is,” he joked, stretching one of her legs out. Her ears perked up, tongue lolling out of the side of her grin. She wriggled to her feet and trotted to the belowdeck door, sitting by it and looking back to him, panting. Daichi glanced around – no one was paying them any attention. He shrugged and followed her lead. Nothing to lose but his dignity.

Snowflake led him to the very bow of the ship, a calf-high ghost staying just in sight. She stopped in front of the last door, one Daichi hadn’t even tried to open in his explorations, and scratched at the door. It opened while Daichi was still a few doors away. Akane stepped out, carrying a tray of half-empty bowls, and smiled down at Snowflake. “You’re a little early tonight, fluffball.” Daichi stopped his approach, but she glanced up at the movement anyway. She frowned. “What’re you doing here?”

Daichi raised his eyebrows. “Snow is my fox-dog. In theory.” Snowflake hopped back to him, catching his pants leg in her teeth and dragging him on. Akane set her feet, holding the tray in front of her. He smiled and took a chance. “I asked her where Kenma was and she led me here. Weird, right?”

Akane stared him down. She was bigger than him, and judging by how thoroughly she kept kicking Ryuu’s ass, a capable fighter. If she wanted to tell him to get out, there wasn’t much he could do about it. But she just sighed and stepped back in the room. “You’re like your pup with a bone,” she sighed, “I can tell. Come on in.”

He and Snowflake stepped over the threshold into a front room of a suite similar to the one Tooru had been given. Unlike that one, though, this front room was littered with soft fabrics and rich colors, star maps painting in red and gold on every wallspace that didn’t have a ricepaper scroll hanging from a bolt, depicting body parts and symbols Daichi couldn’t begin to guess at. The door sliding closed behind him jerked him out of his stare. He spun on his heels to face Akane, who shoved aside a few candles on a cluttered end table to set the tray down. “Yuki’s told me you’ve been asking after them,” she explained, not looking at him as she made sure the tray wouldn’t fall off the table when she let it go. “I guess we owe you a bit of an explanation.”

He tried to smile. “It would be nice.” She gestured him to some long-legged stools by the front windows, a breathtaking view of a waterline sunset past them. He sat as she set about making tea on a burner in the corner, lighting it with the waiting sparkrocks.

When the kettle was on, she took the stool next to him, tucking her skirt under her. Snowflake had disappeared, spirits knew where. Akane looked out over the water, cheek pressed to the glass. “Kenma is an old friend,” she began, “from back home. They saved me from a fever when I was little.” She smiled at the waves. “I understand your… compulsion, I guess.”

Daichi hummed. “So they’re a healer, then?” He drummed his fingers on his knee. “I didn’t know there were firebender healers.”

“There are healers in every nation, moron.” But it didn’t have any bite, her head still stuck in orange nostalgia. “Kenma is special, though, you’re right.” She sighed and closed her eyes. “Well, Tora wouldn’t let it go, following them around for years, learning how to keep them safe. I learned how to keep us alive.” The kettle started to whistle. She groaned and got up to turn it off. “We were fine for a while, wandering while Kenma fixed people,” she said, back turned as she fixed the tea. “But special attracts attention. Tora and I had to get very good at our jobs.” She paused as she scooped out green powder and whisked it up, thinking as she came back and handed Daichi his cup, staring into her own. “You earth boys don’t really understand what our home is like.” She traced the inlaid patterns on her cup. “And, to be fair, we don’t really understand it ourselves until we leave. It’s… intense. All about winning the war. Whatever ‘winning’ is.” She sipped her tea. “If you don’t want to win, you’re the enemy.”

“Ah.” She glanced at him, brown eyes gold in the refracted light. “Y’all didn’t want to win.”

She shook her head. “I was planning a way out, even if my brother’s an idiot and thought he could beat it.” She kicked her heels. “Before I could start it, Kuroo showed up straight from the Spirit World and tried to whisk Kenma away without us.” She frowned. “Just because they were friends first doesn’t mean they’re best.”

Daichi chuckled. “So, Kuroo had a conveniently edgy boat, and thought it was a good idea to harbor a runaway on it?” The tried his tea – the best he had tasted that wasn’t his. “Sounds complicated.”

She shook her head. “No, no, the Nekoma wasn’t rogue before. It went rogue for Kenma. It’s why the crew’s so small, and why we hide him so well.” She shrugged with a half-smile. “I hope you understand.”

He finished his tea while he mulled it over. “I think I get where you’re coming from,” he said to his hands, too wide and rough for the dainty cup. He looked up. “But I just want to thank him. Myself. Not ‘pass the word along’. They saved my life, after all.”

“They do that a lot.” She shrugged. “They’re not the most social creature, and they haven’t seen anyone who’s not crew in – at least months, if not years. It might not turn out…” She blinked at something past his shoulder. “Ken?”

Daichi spun on the stool to face her line of sight. A long curtain of hair, black fading to yellow ends, hung over a long maroon cloak, soft rustles around squirming white fur. Snowflake was hamming it up in arms almost invisible behind the cloak, pushing up into the hidden face to lick it. Without lifting those startling gold eyes from Snowflake and the floor, they shuffled across the deck to place Snowflake in Daichi’s lap. “Yours, I believe,” the quiet voice from his not-dream said before shuffling past to the tea kit. Akane and Daichi watched in silence as they whisked up their own tea, then shuffled back, cloak dragging the floor. They paused by Daichi and reached up to place a small hot hand on his temple, staring past Daichi’s head as they sipped tea. Daichi sighed and closed his eyes as warm relief flooded him – he didn’t even know he had a headache anymore. “Migraines. Of course.” The hand slipped away to scratch Snowflake’s ears. “I can make something for that at next berth,” they said, more to themselves than any audience. “I’ll need willow…”

Daichi smiled. “Willow tea’s not enough.”

Kenma hummed. “No, it wouldn’t be.” Their hair turned in Akane’s direction. “I’ll make a list.” They started to shuffle away; Daichi panicked.

“Wait.” They stopped. “Thank you. For the other day.”

The hair turned a quarter, not enough to show features. “Don’t thank me,” they mumbled. “It’s nothing.” They resumed their shuffle, sock-shoes sliding over metal and carpet to the door they had come out of. Daichi’s breath whooshed out of him when it clicked shut.

“Really need to work on his manners,” Akane grumbled. Daichi scratched his (clear, ache-free) head with a chuckle.

“He’s a sight different than our healer.” At her head tilt, he explained, “Shigeru- not sure if you met him. He went with the other half of us. Waterbender, ponytail-”

“Always had a stick up his ass?” Daichi snorted, laughed. She chortled, nose wrinkling with her grin. “He made an impression on the road,” she said through it, back of her hand pressed to her mouth. “He always like that?”

“Worse. But not in a bad way.” Daichi started to tell her Shigeru stories, Snowflake offering her opinions as they meandered through anecdotes until past twilight.

They got to the mouth of the River Tranquil the next afternoon. It was a wide, silty delta peppered with ships of all size and origin littered among the sandbars, lowlands a fuzzy line along the shore. The land structures looked like a larger copy of the previous port town, but even at a distance there was a distinction between the Earth border on the east back and the Fire-occupied west. The Nekoma moored on one of the floating docks out on the harbor for the night while Kuroo and Fukunaga took their shore boat for a supply run in their Earth Kingdom clothes. Some of Seijoh wanted to take a shore leave night, but Kuroo made a flat announcement that everyone was to stay on the ship, no exceptions. A part of Daichi wanted to fight it just to fight it, but a bigger part wanted to take a nap until his temper went away.

He was almost asleep when Ryuu burst in and flopped over him, groaning. “It’s not fair,” he moaned. “I just wanna see what it’s like.”

“It can’t be that different,” Daichi said into Snowflake’s flank. She was learning a new trick now – ‘pillow’. “The people sure ain’t.”

“But I wanna know!” He curled around Daichi over the covers he was under. “If I was a waterbender I’d just swim,” he whined. He muttered under his breath about jerks and their jerkbending, shuffling around to curl up and nap with Daichi and Snowflake, but Daichi’s brain was set to ticking.

“You and I might not be waterbenders,” he said, lifting his face from his Snow-pillow. “But we do know a few.”

It was simple, really. A few old tacky tunics from the dusty truck shoved in the corner of their room, a few prize coins from Nekomata letting him win at pai sho tucked in his pocket, and a promise to Akira that he would never have to give the dog a bath again, they were racing across low tide at twilight on a sheet of ice, hunkered down and twisting between the decks of a cluttered harbor to a sticky beach below the pier on the Fire Nation side. Akira turned down their offer to join them in favor of curling up for a nap where pier met land. Ryuu and Daichi crawled up the bank alone to set their first sights on the Fire Nation.

The earth under his feet didn’t feel any different. Then again, this used to be the Earth Kingdom until about twenty-five years ago, according to one of Nekomata’s history lessons over a pai sho whipping. Daichi wasn’t the only green-eyed human like he feared, but everyone was rough and dirty and shifty-looking, just like in the other port. Maybe this was just how all ports were.

Ryuu dragged him along, marveling at the tattered red paper lanterns and the spices wafting from open food stalls. Just the smell of them made Daichi’s nose water, but Ryuu had to try some. He got two bites in before he had to bolt for the animal trough and stick his head in, the shop owner and his customers laughing.

They wandered through muddy streets with slapdash wood shanties built beside them, the constant rain and humidity rotting them before they could be lived in. The air smelled like saltwater and soy sauce, and even though Daichi had taken off his boots the second they touched shore, he found himself pausing by a notice board column to wipe the filth off his feet and shove them back on. After over a month of wearing shoes, they had lost some of their sturdiness, and he didn’t want to get lockjaw for a few minutes of listening. Ryuu held his shoulder as ballast and glanced over the layered flyers fluttering in the briny wind. Most were advertisements for local businesses or crews-for-rent, but there was a section devoted to government declarations – distant victories, a birth in the royal family, and a collection of vandalized wanted posters showing their age by their paper color. Ryuu read out the offenses as Daichi brushed sand from between his toes.

“Torching a chicken-pig coop… burning down a tax collector’s office… these people like their arson, don’t they?” Daichi huffed and hopped into his first boot. “Oh- hah! This one lady got arrested for having a cat-gator as a pet!” He stood on his toes to push an old flyer out of the way. “Says here she dressed it up and went swimming with it!” He fell back to his heels, laughing. “People, man.”

“Ain’t nothin’ like ‘em,” Daichi answered, scraping mud off his sole on the wood frame of the poster column.

“Oh, this one looks serious, treasonous thoughts. How do you prove that?” He bounced up again to see more of it, buried under years of other postings. “Shit!”

“What?” Daichi shoved his other foot in his boot so he could see. “What happened?”

Ryuu tore the poster off, showing Daichi the brushwork portrait of a familiar face. “Look! It’s Tora!” Sure enough, Taketora Yamamoto was written down the side of the portrait. He had different hair than his current mohawk-ponytail, but the gold cat eyes and sneer were a Yamamoto family trait. “This is sick – dude, you think the rest of them are here?” He rifled through the posters as Daichi read Tora’s crimes, skimming past treasonous thoughts to political excitement and conspiracy to defy the fatherland. It sounded like a bunch of bureaucratic bullshit to him, but he wasn’t a bureaucrat or Fire Nation. Maybe it meant something to them.

Ryuu cackled and yanked another one from the pile. “Hah!” He help it up to Daichi. “The old man’s got one, too! Oh, I can’t wait to tell them!”

“If you tell them, you’ll have to tell them how we learned,” Daichi pointed out as he read harboring of fugitives among Nekomata’s crimes. “You really want them to know we snuck on shore?” Ryuu growled and went around the column to look for more familiar faces. Daichi glanced up at the empty spot where the two posters had been – his breath caught. He tugged it off the cork and shoved it between Tora and Nekomata’s as Ryuu came back around the column with a defeated pout.

“Guess we’re not living with an entire crew of lawless traitors,” he said with a sigh. “C’mon, let’s head back, this place is gross.” Daichi nodded and let him head, sliding out the hidden poster to read it in the lantern light.

WANTED: KENMA KOZUME

Conspiracy to treason against the fatherland. Psychic and skilled fire energy manipulator. Long artificial hair. Will be travelling with co-conspirator Taketora Yamamoto. Last seen aboard the Nekoma, captained by Yasufumi Nekomata. Whereabouts to be reported to nearest local officials. By decree of The Royal Seal of the King of the Fire Nation, Azulon.

Chapter Text

Daichi hid the rolled-up wanted posters in his gearbag when they snuck back on board later that night. He wanted to confront Akane about them, or Kuroo, but he wasn’t sure how either of them would take it yet. He had enough context from her story to guess at the reasons for their wanted status, but he still wants to know more, and Ryuu was itching at the seams to learn about why his new best friend was an actual outlaw. It wasn’t like them knowing the full story would affect Fire Nation politics.

But they had to press on as normal to keep their shore trip a secret. The only indicators in the morning light that he and Ryuu had left the ship the night before were the persistent yawns and dragging feet as they collected for drill. (Akira was just fine.) The ship had already left port, the banks of the river closing in as they stumped through their pattern dances, segregated by element as the sun rose over the Earth Kingdom side.

It didn’t take long for that order to disintegrate into a mixed-up free-for-all, a wide ring around requested matches as fire beat earth beat water beat fire. Daichi sat back next to Hajime and watched the morning entertainment, mumbling commentary to each other. They weren’t as shameless as Ryuu and Taketora, who were betting on the current matchup of Takahiro and Fukunaga with Akane as the bookie, but it still hit a note that Daichi needed the more he was on this ship.

Takahiro threw Fukunaga across the deck with a great heave, only for his opponent to land on his feet like a blessed panda-cat and dart back in to kick Takahiro’s feet out from under him, toppling like a soggy redwood. “Told him he needs to work on his recovery,” Hajime muttered as Takahiro groaned on the unforgiving metal deck.

“Like he ever listens to our advice.” They grinned at each other as Takahiro tapped out to cheers and jibes from the circle. Fukunaga took his thumb off Takahiro’s jugular to help him up, ducking away from Takahiro’s hair ruffle. “Nice try!” Daichi called out over the din.

“Oh, like you could do better, boss!” Takahiro snapped back, grinning and sweating.

“Daichi can beat me, when he tries,” Issei offered, picking at the cloth wrapped around his knuckles. “Better than your track record.” Takahiro kicked at him, still trying to trap Fukunaga in a headlock. Issei smiled.

“That’s a lofty claim,” Kuroo drawled from across the circle. “Care to test your theory?” he asked, flicking a hand at Daichi.

Daichi held up his hands. “No thanks, I’ve had my ass kicked enough today, thank you.” He wrinkled his nose at Kai through the group laughter, who winked back.

“Fine, then.” Kuroo stood, cracking his knuckles. “Different test subject, same result.” He fluttered his fingers at Issei with a cocked eyebrow. Issei’s smirk fell flat as he unfolded to his feet before Takahiro could pay attention and stop him. Daichi made to jump between them, but Hajime stopped him with a backhand to the chest. They glanced at each other; Daichi settled back, hands wedged under his knees. He had to let it play out.

The two in the ring circled each other, provocative smirk to dead-eyed sneer, outsiders’ jeers fading as the air tensed between their counterpoint prowl. Issei’s hair was only half-contained by his low bun, dark strings sticking to his face like Kuroo’s chin-length bangs.

“Dear,” Tooru said in Daichi’s ear, crouching behind Hajime and Daichi with a hand on each of their shoulders, “have you ever considered that you might have a type?”

“Bite me,” Daichi snapped back as Issei threw himself at Kuroo, teeth bared, growling. Kuroo countered his punches, one-two, leapt into a kick, but Issei was ready and caught his lead foot in the air, twisting him down by his ankle with the momentum, pinning Kuroo with a knee to the back. Kuroo scoffed and kicked him in the face, then spun to wham his boot heel into Issei’s side – but Issei had flipped to his feet, darting in to catch an opening…

Daichi lost track of the pieces of the fight and just watched the whole, spin kicks and flashy firebending without the fire bouncing off Issei’s scrappy, rule-twisting palm thrusts and right hooks, elbows and wild black hair and too much force. They were both unusually silent, their separate habits of insults and offhands lost in favor of trying to kill each other. The circle started to look around at one another – should they stop this? They were evenly matched in too many ways for this to be quick – maybe this was a bad idea-

Kuroo froze, Issei’s arm twisted behind his back and face pressed to the deck as Kuroo knelt on his other wrist and lower back. He lifted his nose in the air, chest heaving, smelling the wind – the other Nekoma sailors were doing it, too. Daichi didn’t smell anything, but Kuroo sighed and climbed off Issei, raising his hand for a pause as he frowned upriver. “Belowdeck. Now.” He smiled around at the circle with open hands, chest heaving as he panted even as his tone stayed even. “Please. I’m only thinking of your safety.” Tooru’s hand resting on Daichi’s shoulder tightened. Daichi himself wasn’t inclined to obey just like that, but the lack of fight or confusion from the Nekoma crew as they funneled to the tower door overpowered Daichi’s rebel itch. He followed the herd inside, glancing upriver at the empty, glistening water.

They spent a whole day held belowdeck, waiting. Waiting for what, no one seemed to want to tell them. According to the long window in Tooru’s suite (situated a floor above Kenma’s) and the muted rumble underfoot, they weren’t moving, but anchored in a bend out of sight from anything more than a few hundred yards up or downriver. It was the only real window Seijoh had access to, so they clustered around it, telling stories, sampling Fire Nation snacks Taketora and Shibayama dared them to try, and teaching Snowflake new tricks to pass the slow hours. Their one-sided angle only afforded them a view of the near bank, thick conifer forest drawn tight to the waterline and arching away into the bumpy hillsides of this part of the world.

Akane had slipped him Kenma’s migraine tea under the table the dinner after they entered the river, but he didn’t quite dare to sneak down for another thank-you yet. He didn’t want Seijoh to notice his absence from their current close-knit community nor to impose too much on a place where he wasn’t quite welcome yet. Plus, he needed to brace himself before he met those yellow-gold eyes again. He drank his miracle tea every morning; although it tasted like old grass and too much thyme, he drained the whole cup and didn’t feel a single temple pang no matter what tricks his boys tried to pull.

It was the middle of the next day that the floor started to hum again and, tree by tree, the bank began to slide by. Seijoh didn’t notice at first, wrapped up in their paired-off conversations, but Daichi and Tooru at the window blinked outside as the forest they had memorized changed shape. “Oh, finally,” Tooru whined, rolling his eyes and gesturing with his long-empty teacup. “This is totally going in my closing report.”

“I didn’t know you got one of those,” Daichi commented, forcing back the last of his tepid tea. Tooru waved him off.

“Details, details. I’ll just pin it under the awful pai sho table for them to find when they clean this thing in the impound a few years down the road.” He hopped off the stool and took Daichi’s cup from his hand, fingers brushing. “Refill?”

Daichi smiled. “If you insist.” Tooru winked and flounced over to their collection of teapots by the burner, each of varying type and temperature. Daichi left his choice up to mystery and stared out at the grey clouds, temple to glass as brown water and dark trees picked up speed, slopes increasing to something like a valley. Maybe they would find the source of the blockage to see for themselves instead of this ignorant lockup.

Tooru came back with jasmine tea, steam trailing behind him as he pressed Daichi’s cup in his hand and jumped on his stool. “I miss anything?”

Daichi grinned. “Just some peace and quiet.” Tooru kicked his shin.

“Rude. Worse than Iwa-chan.” Daichi blew on his tea, raising his eyebrows over his cup. Tooru stuck his tongue out. “Ruder than your boyfriend trapping us down here.”

“Not my boyfriend.”

“Sure, sure, whatever you say, dear.” Tooru grinned, all teeth. “But I bet he would take you asking to let us out now that we’re moving better than the rest of us.” Daichi pulled a face, and Tooru barked a laugh. “Aw, come on, what’s the use in sleeping with the boss if you don’t get something out of it?” Daichi stared at him, hard, taking a long sip of his too-hot tea as he waited for it to click. It didn’t take long. Tooru’s face paled, smirk changing to a wide-eyed grimace. “Oh.” He banged his forehead on the glass, teeth grit. “Forget I said anything.”

“Sure. I won’t even tell Hajime.” Tooru rolled his eyes. Daichi nudged his calf with his foot. “It’s a joke, dear. Y’all don’t have to act like we’re suddenly gonna start caring about image every time it’s brought up.” Tooru sighed, shoulders heaving. “I always thought it was sweet.”

“That’s because you’re a giant sap.” Tooru rubbed at his pink face, nose wrinkled. “And just because you keep telling me that doesn’t mean I’ll stop thinking it.” Daichi smiled and let it go, joining Tooru in staring down the river, quiet minutes passing as the Nekoma built up momentum against the current. No one else had noticed they were moving yet, or if they had they didn’t bother to leaving their current occupations to watch. Daichi finished his tea, warmth settling over him – wait, what was that…?

The Nekoma glided around a gentle curve in the valley to a strange scene. The trees on either side were burnt-out and crumbling, a haze settled across the river like some perverse midday fog, obscuring the details until they honed closer. Daichi slapped at Tooru and pointed to look behind him. Tooru blinked and spun on the stool. “What on earth?”

The angular shadows came into focus – the pipes were grinding underfoot, screeching like Mori probably was in the engine room. Others in the suite were collecting around the window, easy chatter fading to whispers as the Nekoma turned perpendicular to the current, their starboard side window getting the full panorama. Dark metal jutted out of murky water at disorienting angles, broken and charred across the river, current splitting around them. It wasn’t until Daichi saw the one beached on the west bank that his brain connected the odd forest to the center towers of Fire Navy ships, just like the Nekoma.

The ship tilted back from the window, world angling up to the slate gray sky as the anchor dropped, the current slowing them down by the broadside. They all clutched each other or the welded-down furniture for balance, but when it slapped back down even with the waterline, Tooru sprang to his feet and stumped to the door, grumbling under his breath about miscommunication and delays. Daichi glanced at Hajime, standing behind Tooru’s vacated stool with a hand still in the air around the height of Tooru’s shoulder. They nodded at each other and slipped out of the gaping group to follow the echo of his boot heels.

Tooru pounded all the way to the helm, Daichi and Hajime trailing behind just out of sight. He slammed the top door open hard enough to rattle the stairs under Daichi’s feet. Daichi rolled his eyes, and Hajime huffed as they paused out of the damage zone.

“I feel like I’ve put up with being left in the dark with incredible patience and poise to this point,” Tooru snapped, tone false-bright but too clipped for his true put-on polite drawl. “But I think you should clue me in to the situation now, please.”

“Get back below,” Kuroo’s voice bit back. Daichi’s own temper flared. “This isn’t your concern.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure it is.” He marched in the door, leaving room for Daichi and Hajime to follow. Half of the Nekoma crew was lined along the starboard window – the older half, the bigger ones, all in red and gold armor for the first time since Daichi and come aboard. Kuroo had stepped out of line towards Tooru, frowning and severe with his high metal collar and he looked taller – bad, Daichi. He ground his teeth as Kuroo and Tooru squared off, a force and an object. Tooru crossed his arms and growled, “I don’t appreciate being cut out of the loop, first mate.” Kuroo’s eye twitched. “Just because this is your ship doesn’t mean my crew is just gonna stick their thumbs up their asses and watch.”

Hajime pushed past Daichi (who danced out of the way) to grip Tooru’s tunic and haul him out of Kuroo’s personal space. “What the idiot is trying to say,” he said, cutting his eyes at Tooru, “is that we can help with whatever problem there is. If you tell us about it and let us. We’re not lily-handed nobles, we work for a living.” He pounded his fist into his breastbone with a dull thud. “Use us.”

Kuroo’s eyes flicked between them, jaw set – past them to Daichi. He fought his mind’s flinch and shrugged. Kuroo sighed. “We need to start screening our clients for attitude problems,” he groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. He had some shiny black gloves on that looked soft – stop. Tooru opened his mouth to bitch about that, but Hajime yanked his tunic for quiet. Kuroo slumped and waved them over to the window, where Nekomata, Kai, and Akane watched and waited. They made room for the four of them as Kuroo gestured at the view. From up here, the individual scars and stains were less apparent, but the broader scope of the burn oval spanning the river and the debris of an old camp on the Earth side gave a full view of the story.

“This was what we were waiting on,” he explained, opening a hand at the damage. “The Tranq isn’t the most peaceful of rivers.” He crossed his arms and scowled out the window. “From what we can tell, a patrol got caught in an Earth trap. Never really stood a chance.” He exhaled through his nose. “We sent our scout to make sure it was clear in the night, but the wrecks have moved since then. Our berth can’t pass.” He cut a bitter smile at Tooru. “How do you propose to help with that?”

Tooru leveled the flattest stare his face could manage at him. “You’re joking, right.” He pointed at Hajime and Daichi with a curled lip. “Earth. Benders.” He pointed down at the floor. “Water. Benders.” All of the firebenders just blinked at him, and he groaned, staring up at the ceiling. “Honestly, it’s like I’m living with children.” He grabbed the closest arm – Daichi’s. “Dear, could you and the terrible two downstairs move some wet mud around?”

Daichi frowned – looked down at the river scene with fresh eyes. “Don’t see why we can’t try.” He looked to Kuroo, neck still a little hot under his sharp burnt-gold stare. “It’ll help if we can get down there.”

Kuroo narrowed his eyes at both of them, but Kai laid a hand on his arm to draw his attention. He nodded, and Kuroo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine. Fine.” He waved his other hand, eyes clenched shut. “Go find your brother, Akane, and Fukunaga, tell them to get the death trap ready.” She nodded and left. Kai went back to his helm, steering them back against the current’s push as Mori’s muffled voice cursed through the pipes at him. The Nekoma’s engines were strong, but the current was stronger. They didn’t need to waste much time, or they would be pushed back to the ocean again.

“You two. Earthboys.” Daichi and Hajime looked to Kuroo. “You sure you can do this?”

Daichi shrugged. “They’re big, but that’s what numbers are for.”

Kuroo gave him a hard, unreadable look, then groaned with a wince. “Captain, can you watch the ship? I’m going down, too.” Nekomata frowned, but agreed with a nod, moving to stand near Kai but out of his way. Kuroo glared at Tooru. “Go get who you need and meet me in the loading bay,” he said. The armor hid any shoulder movement, but he sounded tired, worn. “And brace yourselves.” He shooed them down the stairs before they could ask what for, shoving them towards the bow as he made his own way to the loading bay in the stern.

The Seijoh benders were eager and ready to help when they were given a quick summary of the situation. Ryuu, Tooru, and Tobio stayed behind with the puppy to watch at the window as the benders strung down to the loading bay. The back door was already lowered, Taketora and Fukunaga manning the takeoff while Kuroo locked the door open. He glanced up at their entry, mouth a grim line. “You’re here. Good.” He pointed at the boat. “Get in.” They obeyed without the usual snapbacks about his tone, everyone’s shoulders tight from the smoky fog drifting over the water and in the open bay door. Even Fukunaga’s monkey-macaw sat still on the mast, circled face turned into the wind as they slid out of the Nekoma and onto the water.

The waterbenders directed the skiff around before they could unfurl the sail, Ukai leading Akira and Yuutarou in uniform swirls. The three Fire natives watched with bared teeth and white knuckles as they honed in on the first ship, the one wedged at a tilt in the middle of the current, only barely cresting the surface. Ukai kept the boat idling while Yuutarou and Akira parted the river to the bed, only a sliver but enough to gauge depth. The four earthbenders leant over the edge to peer down, and that was a foot at the bottom? Yes, an algae-covered Fire Nation boot. Daichi blinked at it, but their hold on the river collapsed, walls falling back before he could be sure.

“About thirty feet,” Issei mumbled at his elbow like he hadn’t seen the foot. He glanced at Takahiro on his other side. “Should we try to sink it in, you think?”

“Depends on how deep the mud goes.” Takahiro flicked Daichi’s ear. “Wanna dive down there and get your magic farmer feet in it?”

Daichi rolled his eyes with a smile. “Good try, but I can’t swim.” Takahiro snorted, but Daichi was already scowling at the shore. “It would be nice to be able to hear it better, though.” He glanced at Akira. “Mind giving me a lift?”

Akira nodded, vaulting the railing without a second thought into the water. Daichi went over slower, straddling the edge as Akira made his icesheet sled and whipped around the boat for a test, glancing back at the other earthbenders. “I’ll just get a quick feel for what’s going on down there. If it’s something I need help for I’ll send Akira back for y’all.” They nodded, and he smiled. “A’course, don’t let me stop y’all from doing your own thing.” Takahiro flashed a thumbs-up.

Daichi swung his other leg over the side, but Kuroo tapped his shoulder before he could drop to Akira’s waiting side. He glanced back – into armor. Up. The skin around his eyes was tense and white, hard. He pointed at the far bank, almost obscured by the fog – the west bank. The Fire Nation bank. “That one.”

Daichi’s mind growled at that obnoxious no-arguing tone that was starting to grate on his last nerve, but he just nodded once and lowered himself to the waterline. Akira caught his arm with a hand and his feet with the ice until he was steady. Daichi jerked his chin at the west bank. “Let’s go.”

Akira skated them around the wreck they were parked by to curve around the middle one, arc aimed for a cleared bit of shore, a raw scar left by the crash path of the beached third ship just visible through the fog. Daichi watched the broken prows approach, trying to gauge how deep they were entrenched by sight and approximation of the river, brain ticking away at the details, teeth worrying his tongue.

They skirted the protruding tip of the bow. Just below the waterline, a face, pale and bloated, stared up at Daichi and the sky beyond, eyes as washed out as the skin. Daichi gasped, a whiff of algae and decay, but it was gone, behind them. Daichi lifted his hand from a precious ice handhold to tug on Akira’s tunic. “Wait! Go back! There was a person-”

“He’s dead.” Akira’s hair whipped his passive face, staring at the shore with hard eyes. “They all are.” He glanced down at Daichi. “Did you think these ships sailed themselves here?”

Daichi’s throat closed up. His hand fell. Akira’s sled skimmed into the shore and melted, making him stumble a few steps with the loss of momentum. Daichi fell to his knees in the thick mud, heart hammering in his ears, but Akira stayed upright, fists at his sides. Daichi stared at the three ships through a saline sheen, hands buried in the mud to the elbow and not hearing a damned thing. There were people on those ships, people with families waiting on them, love stories, dreams-

“Don’t do it, boss.” Daichi looked up at Akira’s soft order, wet trailing down his face. Akira’s fingers twitched, and the wet dried, leaving only salt behind. “Don’t do it to yourself.” His profile looked over the water. “Just bury them. They’ll do more good as mud than they ever were alive.”

Daichi’s jaw worked as he swallowed on the tightness until he could choke out, “People aren’t trash. No matter where they’re from.” Akira just shrugged.

“Maybe. Doesn’t change the story here.” He cut his eyes at Daichi. “Can you bury them, or do you need me to get help?”

Daichi sucked in a few breaths. Right. He pulled his arms out of the earth so he could take off his boots, Akira holding out a hand for them before Daichi could shove them in his belt. He stepped away as Daichi closed his eyes and listened, burying himself to the elbow and knee. Now that he was grounded, the huge metal objects screamed at him, disrupting the ecosystem and the natural flow. The river mud faded to older, softer limestone, easy to part for the fathom needed to swallow the two in the river entirely. Bury them without a trace. He ground his teeth. “What does the Fire Nation do with its dead?” he asked the air.

“I assume they burn them.” A cool hand rested on the back of Daichi’s neck. “The Nekoma knows what happened. There’s no way they don’t. They understand what they’re asking us to do.”

Daichi sighed, shaky and wet. “That doesn’t make it better.” He swiped his face on his shoulder. Pull yourself together. “Go get Takahiro for me, please,” he said, “and tell them to move back. Don’t want them caught in the undertow.” Akira nodded and patted Daichi’s shoulder before jumping back on the river, ice condensing before his feet touched down and shot off towards the boat. Daichi let his chin fall to his chest, feeling around the riverbed. It had been disturbed recently, he could tell that much, although the plants and roots down there were nothing like the fields he was used to. It was a field of boulders now, only just collecting sediment and algae, but give it a few weeks. The Fire Nation ships might be metal, coal, pipes, people, but they would become a part of the system in their time. Nature always adapts.

The sound of the water changed. “Boss!” He looked up as Takahiro jumped off Akira’s sled, who didn’t bother to stop and continued his arc back to the retreating boat. Takahiro grinned at him. “You picked me over your twin? I’m so flattered!”

Daichi swallowed, not quite managing a grin back. “You’re the one who wants to learn more about my farmer magic, after all.”

Takahiro’s grin fell away, one foot still in the air as he yanked off his boots. He tossed them up the bank near where Akira left Daichi’s and knelt by him. “Something wrong?”

“Of course.” His lip curled as he glared at the river. “We’re about to bury a bunch of people without even knowing their names, faces, how many there even fucking are-”

“They’re Fire Nation, why does it matter?” Daichi glared at him, but Takahiro glared right back. “These guys don’t count, Dai. You haven’t met them. Most of them aren’t friendly pirates.” He flicked a hand at the ships. “Everyone on these tubs would have killed you, or me, or any of us if they were alive to do it. You’re wasting water, crying over them.”

Daichi’s blood boiled, but this wasn’t the time or the place for this. “Fine.” He clenched his fingers, sucking Takahiro into the mud like him. Takahiro yelped, but he didn’t really care. “Let’s disrespect the dead. That always goes so well.”

“Ghosts aren’t real, boss. Not in the way you think, at least.” But Takahiro closed his eyes, high forehead all wrinkles under his thin sweaty bangs. “So how deep should we go?”

“Not all the way.” He looked at the protruding elements for a final time. “Let the fish have a new home.”

“You got it. One in the middle first?” Daichi nodded, and Takahiro extracted himself from the mud, firming up the ground so he could set his stance. “On your count.”

Daichi didn’t bother standing, just dug his toes in and closed his eyes. “Go.”

Takahiro pulled down as Daichi parted, separating the mud into water and dry, siftable dirt as Takahiro cracked open the limestone below. Rumbles caused waves to lap on the shore, water sucking in as the hole grew, tower of the ship teetering – falling. Silt and debris swirled around the wreckage, burying it underwater as the ground gave beneath it. It sank into the river, ocean-level waves rising and soaking the east bank. Takahiro and Daichi pushed it down further together as the surface roiled, shifted, settled. Below the river, the blown-open port side was still above ground, but two-thirds of it was buried, a part of the system. Takahiro gasped, laughed with it.

“Well! Even farmers can move mountains when they need to, eh?” He cracked his knuckles and slapped Daichi’s back. “Next one!”

The second ship didn’t topple so much as lilt, so they had to bury it deeper in the riverbed to keep it from slicing up future ships and adding more death to this graveyard. It wasn’t easy work – the mud fought them every second, trying to keep its original shape and form. Even with the waterbenders clearing out the gunk around the ship and Hajime and Issei working from the boat, it took twice as long to lodge this one in the mud than the first. It wasn’t perfect, but it wouldn’t come out later, and Daichi was done. He yanked his feet out of the mud as Takahiro sat down with a heavy sigh, scratching his scalp. “Well, that’s one for the books,” he muttered. Daichi sat on his hardened platform with him, flicking mud out from between his toes as his breathing evened. It would take some time for the river surface to settle back to normal, but the Nekoma was free to pass once more. Mission accomplished.

Akira came back to get them when the waves were shorter than him again, this time followed by the boat at Ukai’s speed, applause echoing over the waves. “Nice work, team!” Issei called. Takahiro raised a hand.

“Guess your prettyboy was right,” Kuroo quipped, perched on the railing so he could smirk down at them, leaning out from a sail rope. “Earthbenders are pretty useful to have around.” Hajime growled behind him, but he pretended to ignore it and gestured them on. “C’mon. Let’s get out of here before the Earth Kingdom decides to come back for seconds.” Takahiro bounced to his feet, but Daichi drummed his fingers on his knee and stared up at the third ship. It wasn’t in the way of the river traffic like the other two, but it was still a ghost that Daichi’s gut didn’t like leaving behind. It deserved to be laid to rest, too.

Takahiro tapped his shoulder, and he jerked out of his daze, whipping around to worried hazel eyes. “Ready to go?”

Daichi swallowed. Shook his head. “Not quite.” He pushed to his feet, legs aching, and calling out to the hovering boat, “I want to check this one for survivors.”

Kuroo’s smirk died. “There won’t be any.”

“How do you know that?” he snapped, hands trembling. Takahiro sighed beside him, but he ignored it, holding Kuroo’s gaze across the water. “I’ll go by myself if I have to,” he swore.

Kuroo raked fingers through his hair, pulling strands out of his topknot. He muttered something Daichi couldn’t catch, but Issei and Hajime both nodded in response. He grimaced, but vaulted off the edge and landed in ankle-deep water. “No you won’t. I’ll chaperone.” Daichi bristled, but Kuroo flapped a hand at the ship. “They’re set with traps when they go out like this,” he explained. “There’s no need to add your body to the count.” He frowned up at it. “It’s not that big. Should be quick.” He glanced back at the boat. “Hold tight, gents.” Ukai directed the boat to a soft beaching so his arms could take a break. Kuroo gestured Daichi forward. “After you, earthbender.”

Daichi ground his teeth, but obliged the implied direction and raised their patch of mud up to the deck, jumping off into frozen chaos. The deck was in shambles, broken catapults and burn scars, broken limestone like breadcrumbs. “Guard,” Kuroo muttered in Daichi’s ear, making him jump – how did he sneak up on him like that? He laid a hand on Daichi’s back and pressed him on. “Keep your eyes open.”

They picked their way through the debris, on the lookout for movement beyond the carrion birds perched on the tower, waiting for them to leave them alone with their feast once more. A flash of red drew Daichi’s eye, shadowed under the remnants of a boulder. Daichi bit his tongue and lifted them away as a whole, tossing them into the dead trees. A suit of armor, a copy of the one Kuroo had on now, was bent at revolting angles, face down, head bent too sharp against the side of the ship. Daichi sucked in a breath, but Kuroo circled him to flip and straighten the body, stiff after a day exposed. Kuroo's hair obscured his face as he muttered – to himself or to the soldier, Daichi didn’t ask. He laid him out flat, hands crossed over his caved-in chest, and closed both their eyes.

He was quiet for a breath, Daichi’s own caught in his throat. He opened his eyes and cast a hand down the body, cloth and hair catching fire behind as tinder. He stood, watching the flames flicker, before turning to Daichi with those same hard eyes. Hollow eyes. “Let’s find the others.” Daichi could only nod.

They ghosted through the ship, which was about half the size of the Nekoma, cool metal under Daichi’s bare feet the only thing keeping him grounded, together. Kuroo repeated his ritual for each soldier, every twisted form they found telling the story of the ambush starker than the helm view, like shadows before a thunderstorm. They collected the ashes in an artillery box they found in the cannon bay, only speaking when Kuroo kept Daichi from trip wires or to unearth a new, too-young face. It was dark belowdeck, the only light Kuroo’s bending and the occasional rays of natural light from the holes punched in the side. Daichi stayed close, trying not to breathe the dead air too deep.

They found a dozen casualties by the time they scoured every room and got to the loading bay in the berth, the artillery box heavy in Daichi’s arms. “We can go out the back door,” Kuroo murmured, echoing in the bay. Daichi nodded, grip too tight around the box. Kuroo lit the lantern still hanging over the untouched lifeboat – actual Fire Nation steel, not the Nekoma’s junker. He crossed over to the door mechanism, banging at it to unlock the chain and lower it slow enough to give whoever was on shore time to get out of the way. Daichi glanced around as gray sunlight shone in, up at the lifeboat – met a pair of eyes. They blinked, and Daichi hissed.

“What?” Kuroo turned, and the owl eyes darted to him. It cried out, springing from behind the wall of the lifeboat and tumbling over the side towards him, falling in a death grip of a hug, sobbing into Kuroo’s chest. He looked over filthy, spiky hair to Daichi, eyes wide. Help me, he mouthed.

The figure in his arms was tall and gangly, wearing what Daichi now knew as the underarmor of the Fire Nation uniform, ripped and torn. Daichi approached with care – he was so young. He couldn’t be older than Yuutarou. Kuroo looked like Tooru when Snowflake tried to climb in his lap, stiff and uncomfortable as the kid kept sobbing, great gulps through shaking shoulders. Daichi cleared his throat, shuffled his feet, touched his elbow. “Hey.” The kid hiccupped in Kuroo’s loose hold, clutching the familiar silhouette close. “Let’s go outside. Okay?” Daichi bit his lip. “You’re safe now.” Daichi smiled. “My name’s Daichi, and this is Kuroo. What’s yours?”

He sniffed, wiping his smoke-stained face on his shoulder. “Sou.” He blinked at Daichi. “You’re not Fire Nation.”

Daichi shook his head. “But I’m a friend.” He adjusted the box in his arms. “Kuroo’s not going anywhere, you know. You can let him breathe.”

“You okay in there, boss?” Takahiro called. He and Akira were waiting at the base of the door, peering into the dark of the bay and feet set against whatever came out.

“Fine,” Daichi called back. “We found someone!”

“What? Really?”

Daichi snorted and shook his head, glancing at Sou’s red-rimmed eyes. “They’ll be nice if I tell them to be.” He smiled again. “What d’ya say? There’s food on board. You’re probably hungry.”

Sou sniffed, pulling away from Kuroo. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.” Daichi put a hand on his back and led him out into the thinning fog.

Chapter Text

“That boy eats more than that pup of yours,” Kuroo growled, glaring across the mess at the new arrival as he shoved rice and beans in his face, Yuutarou and Yuki watching in horrified fascination. “If he keeps this up I’m adding it to the prettyboy’s tab.”

“Let the boy eat. He’s been through enough.” Daichi shoveled down his own dinner, still hungry from the long-ago morning’s bending. “Do you have a place for him to sleep?”

“No,” Kuroo spat. “I’m not in the business of chaperoning strays.” Akira gave one of his trademark one-liners from next to Yuutarou. It was too far for Daichi to hear, but Yuutarou laughed, Sou smiling through his food. Kuroo sighed. “But I suspect one of them will offer up their bed before the evening’s out.” Snowflake, who had been sitting patiently at Sou’s feet waiting for scraps, tapped Sou’s knee with a paw and yipped. He laughed and scooped her up, burying his face in her fur as she wriggled and yipped again. Kuroo nudged Daichi with his elbow. “Looks like you might be down a bedmate, though. Need a replacement?”

Daichi rolled his eyes even as his belly boiled. “Only if you want Ryuu to watch.” He dug at his rice with his chopsticks as Kuroo chuckled, a warm flame at his side that they were both still pretending didn’t exist. He was sick of it, really. Sick of the whole façade. A dozen too-young faces turning into ash kind of put the stupidity into perspective.

“What do you plan on doing with… with the box?” he asked, staring down at his last flecks of rice. Kuroo hummed.

“Hold them, for now.” He pointed his teacup at the kids’ table. “When he’s ready, they’re his. They were his crew, after all.” He cocked his head, bangs falling to show both eyes. “Why do you ask?”

Daichi looked away. “Just curious.” He finished his food, glancing around at the half-empty mess. Most people had already turned in after a long day of ship-burying and pushing the Nekoma far away from danger, both with coal and waterbending. The few who still ate were talking in their mismatched circles in the same low tones as Kuroo and Daichi, even Ryuu and the Yamamotos. The mess itself was worn but clean, old metal scratched by years of belt knives with the scent of cabbage woven into the dusty wall hangings. He liked the mess – the whole ship, really. It was like its crew – hard and impressive at first, but colorful, livable. He could understand their devotion.

Kuroo drained the last of his tea and made to stand, clapping Daichi’s shoulder. “Well, g’night, pup.” Daichi grabbed the hem of his tunic, and he paused, knee on the bench. “Yes?” Daichi swallowed.

“I know Ryuu wouldn’t be interested in watching.” He chewed his cheek and met Kuroo’s dark, damn unreadable eyes. “But he might not mind a room to himself for the night.” Kuroo blinked. Again. That slow smile bloomed, a match to Daichi’s gut.

“Oh yeah?” The hand still on his shoulder tugged at the hemp necklace tied around his throat. “You sure about that, boss?”

Lightning shot straight through Daichi, down to his toes, and he couldn’t stop his sharp inhale. Kuroo raised a thin eyebrow. “Yeah.” He gripped his pants leg under the table. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

Daichi had no idea what time it was when banging interrupted his empty, dreamless sleep. He yawned and hugged Ryuu closer – that wasn’t Ryuu. Hair drifted over his shoulder as his clutch groaned and rolled out of his arms, fishing for pants as the banging continued. At the door. Shit.

Daichi pretended to still be asleep with his back to the door as it clanged open behind him. Kuroo yawned, audible even from this distance. “Wha’sit, Shiba?” he asked through it.

“It’s Sou,” Yuki said in a rush. “He’s shouting in his sleep – screaming – and he’s rolling all over the place, and I can’t wake him up! Can I get Kenma?”

Kuroo heaved a sigh. “No, no reason to wake him up. I’ll come down, see what I can do.” The door clanked shut on Yuki’s chatters, leaving Daichi alone in a too-big bed, grasping at empty sheets.

When Daichi woke up again, he wasn’t alone anymore, but Kuroo was crammed between his back and the near edge of the bed, arms almost too tight around his chest. He moaned and shoved his face into the pillow, lacing his fingers over Kuroo’s to pull his hands apart so he could breathe, arching with his stretch. Kuroo yawned against his neck, points of his teeth scratching skin. “Mmmmorning.” Kuroo nuzzled into his unbound hair. “You smell nice.”

“You’re a weird shit.” Kuroo snorted, molding his naked body tighter along Daichi’s back, long legs twisting through his. Daichi scowled into the pillow. “When’d ya take your clothes off?”

“I think that was more your doing than mine.” Daichi squeezed Kuroo’s hands.

“Not that, dipstick. I meant after you left in the night.” Kuroo stiffened around him.

“Shit. You were awake?”

“Hard not to be.” He glanced over his shoulder at more hair and an ear. “Wha’s the kid up to?”

Kuroo sighed. “Bad dreams. It’s not uncommon.” He ran his nose along the bumps of Daichi’s spine, down his neck between his shoulders. “That pup of yours will help with them, eventually.”

Daichi stared at the wall across the rooms, rivets and ornaments coming into focus as his head caught up with his body. “Yuki asked for Kenma.” Kuroo’s teeth bared against his skin. “Why?”

“Sometimes you’re too perceptive for your own good,” Kuroo groaned, knocking his forehead into Daichi’s shoulder. Daichi tried to turn over in his grip, but Kuroo held firm. “He was a mindfucker, back at home,” he mumbled into Daichi’s skin. “But he’s non-practicing now.”

Daichi drummed his fingers on the back of Kuroo’s hand. “You sure about that? I didn’t even have to ask to get them to help me with my headaches.”

Kuroo frowned, chin sharp against Daichi’s shoulder. “You what.”

Daichi rolled his eyes and sat up, Kuroo’s arm falling around his waist as they glared at each other. “Look, I get it. I know he’s on the run or whatever, and that you’re an overprotective mother cluck-hen about it. I’ve met him, I get why.” He shoved a hand through Kuroo’s hair, still at his hip, so he could see the full scowl. “But you can’t hide a person away forever. People have to be able to live.”

Kuroo bared his teeth. “My mother cluck-hen-ing is the only reason he can. And, when did you meet him?”

Daichi shrugged. “The other day. He and Snow are good friends.” Kuroo groaned and slammed his face into the pillow. “Akane told me enough.”

“Gonna kill tha’ girl,” Kuroo mumbled into the pillow. Daichi’s hand, still petting his hair, pushed it to one side to bare his neck, tracing a finger through the baby hairs at his nape.

“Don’t. She’s nice.” Kuroo slammed his fist on Daichi’s leg. “I’m not saying you need to drag him outside and show him off like a circus animal or anything, but if he would want to do something you’re just not telling him about, that’s not safety, it’s smothering.” He trailed his fingertips down the dip of Kuroo’s spine. “That’s a very nice prison he’s got.”

Kuroo gripped his thigh, nails tugging out threads from the bedspread embroidery. “It’s not a prison, it’s a safehouse.”

“Different words, same end.” He circled a scar cut between two ribs. “Give him a choice sometime. He’s an adult, right?”

“More than you.” He lifted his head to glare at Daichi. “You’re, what, twenty-two maybe?”

Daichi blinked. “I’m twenty.” The color washed from Kuroo’s face. “What, how old are you?”

Kuroo cleared his throat. “Ah, twenty-eight.” Cold flooded Daichi as they stared at each other. “Pretend we never heard that?”

Daichi jerked his head in a nod, face and ears and neck on fire. “Uh. Well.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Anyway.”

The silence stretched. Daichi’s hand stilled on Kuroo’s back, most of it bared to the open air now. Kuroo’s grip on his leg loosened, hand relaxing on his thigh. Daichi sat back on the wall behind the bed, the cool metal waking him up the last bit. “We should probably get up soon,” he mumbled, twisting a lock of Kuroo’s hair around his finger.

“Five minutes, baby,” he crooned, nuzzling into his hip. Daichi yanked. “Oh, yeah, just like that-” Daichi thumped him on the head. “Ow!”

“It’s what you get for being gross.” He rubbed at his face – oh, Kuroo’s hairband was on his wrist again. He shrugged and fingercombed his own hair before twisting it up in a horsetail, looking around for his clothes. They were mostly piled on the floor on the other side of Kuroo between the door and the bed, except for his shirt at their feet. He sighed and strained for it, Kuroo still latched around his waist. “You’re in the way.”

“You’re in the way.” Daichi pulled on his shirt to hide his smile.

Bang bang! “Yo, get your skank ass up, bitch!” Daichi froze, shirt half-on, as the locked door opened. Kuroo pushed to his elbows to scowl at Mori in the door, screwdriver in hand and wide-eyed grin on his face. “I knew it.” Daichi yanked his shirt down and the sheets up, but Kuroo just yawned and stretched like a barnyard cat-rabbit. Mori leant on the door frame, holding his screwdriver to his heart. “And I had so much faith in you, Sawamura,” he sighed. “You let me down.”

“Oh, go fuck a boiler,” Kuroo said, sitting back and taking the covers with him. Daichi scrambled to keep his lap covered – grabbed a pillow and threw it down. “Be up in a min’,” he said with another exaggerated yawn. “Just get the captain to start it, do his damned job for once.”

“Fine, bitch. Have it your way.” He left the door open as he marched off, his yell of “Hey! Guess what?” echoing down the hall. Daichi shoved the pillow in his face and screamed.

After a rather humiliating drill, Daichi just wanted to drink his headache tea in peace and spend the rest of the day hiding in a closet somewhere to train Snowflake and settle down from the emotional waterfall of the past day. He still hadn’t had time to process the ghosts he invited to his shoulders or the weight of the artillery box wrapped in the ship’s flag down below, much less whatever next step he and Kuroo were taking.

Of course he never banked on actually getting what he wanted. Before he even started to eat his rice at his usual back corner table of the mess, Issei and Takahiro slid in to sandwich him between them, Issei smirking and Takahiro grinning. “First we catch the grand boss and the other boss gettin’ sappy,” Takahiro chirped, “and then we hear the original bossman’s farming his own fields? It’s a regular loveboat out here.”

“I really thought we raised you better,” Issei sighed, resting his chin on Daichi’s shoulder. “Kuroo? Out of every Fire Nation citizen out there?”

Daichi scowled at his rice. “I don’t remember judging you for chasing Yuu’s brother halfway around the North Pole,” he snapped, “so you can leave your opinions at the door.” Takahiro guffaws and slapped Daichi’s back. Issei huffed in his ear.

“Can’t you at least tell us who’s on top?” Takahiro asked over Issei’s pouting. “I got a bet with Fukunaga to settle.” Daichi opened his mouth to scold Takahiro for gambling on his sex life – closed it. “Oh-ho, someone’s got a case of the hot flashes.” Takahiro tugged on his burning ear, and he jerked away, banging into Issei’s nose. “Did someone get a little fire in them last night?”

Daichi buried his face in his hands. “Leave me alone,” he moaned.

“Aww, that’s cute.”

Issei pressed up against his side, thumb hooked through Daichi’s belt and breath hot on his neck. “Bet he wasn’t as good as me,” he whispered, tugging on Daichi’s ear with his teeth. Daichi elbowed him in the side as hard as he could. Takahiro cackled as Issei curled around it, face on the table. “The truth hurts,” he wheezed out, turning his head to smirk sidelong up at Daichi.

Daichi sighed. “Remind me why I put up with y’all.”

“Because you love us.” Takahiro bumped their legs together. “Even when you do make poor life choices.”

Daichi scowled and ate his rice through it as Takahiro and Issei bantered around him. Kuroo was across the mess, besieged by his own heckling squad, just as tired and tried as Daichi but doing a much better job of hiding it. He flicked his hair from his eyes, poking a startled Mori between the eyes, firing back something Daichi couldn’t hear. Mori snapped back, but Kuroo just laughed, that ugly donkey-goat bray-

“Careful there,” Takahiro crooned. “Your moon-eyes are showing.” Daichi glared at Takahiro, who tweaked his nose before Daichi could slap him away. “I’m with Issei on this one, though,” he said, “no idea what you see in that snake-weasel.”

“His snake-weasel, I’d venture.” Takahiro barked a laugh and high-fived Issei over Daichi’s head.

“I’m gonna make Tooru fire y’all,” Daichi growled.

“He tried that already and failed.” Takahiro grinned in his face. “We’re immune from such idle threats.”

“I do need to make one small change,” Issei drawled as he stuck a finger in Daichi’s horsetail and yanked the band off, waving the red loop in his face. “Get my property out of that disgusting hair.” Daichi scowled and snagged Kuroo’s hairtie out of the air.

“Oh, fuck off and fuck each other, brats,” he snapped, grabbing his tea to drink it somewhere else and leaving the bowl behind for them to clean up. He kicked Takahiro’s side after extracting himself from between them so he slid down the bench into Issei. “It’d make all our lives easier.” He stomped off without waiting for their response, draining his grass-and-thyme tea as he left. He only glanced at Kuroo four times as he gathered Snowflake and her treats to find a corner to hide in for the rest of his life.

Sou caught him as he was still searching for a hiding spot, dragging a wide-eyed Tobio behind him by the arm. “Hey!” Daichi paused, Snowflake still trotting along on her lead. “Wait up!”

Daichi forced a smile. “Of course.” Sou skidded to a stop, sliding with Tobio’s added momentum almost into Daichi. He grabbed their outside arms to keep them steady. “What’s the rush?”

Sou beamed at him, too big and too bright. “Tobes was telling me that Snowy doesn’t like him and I know it can’t be true because baby animals like everyone so I had to make him see that he’s wrong!”

“I’m not wrong.” Tobio grumbled. “Animals never like me.”

“Well you just haven’t met the right animals!”

Daichi laughed, cutting off their banter. “Okay, come on, let’s go-” He turned to look down the corridor and saw no calf-high white fluff. He sighed. “Find her.”

Daichi led the two teenagers into supply closets and forgotten hallways in their exhaustive search, Tobio prickly but Sou immune. It was good for Tobio to make a friend, even if it didn’t seem to be by his choice. Yuki, the only other kid his age that didn’t already hate him, mostly spent his free time with Yuutarou and Akira, so Tobio gave him an unasked-for berth that confused Yuki and made the berth wider. Sou ignored the social gaps in his quest to talk to everyone on the ship, but Daichi could already tell it was to both of their benefits.

He wasn’t really looking for Snowflake anymore, just listening to them talk, but an hour or so into it Sou cried out and pointed down their current hallway. “Puppy!”

Daichi followed his sprint to where Snowflake was sitting in front of a door at the dead end of the hall- shit. Sou slid into her side, nuzzling into her ruff. Daichi winced and jogged after, Tobio on his heels as Sou scooped her up, laughing as she licked his face with gusto. “See! She’s friendly!” He brought her up to Tobio’s face, who jerked back, hands up and ready. She sniffed his face – growled. Sou gasped. “Snowy!”

“I’ll take that,” Daichi said, stealing his fox-dog back before she could cause more trouble, tucking her under his arm with a splayed hand supporting her ribcage. “Be nice,” he told her, but she just wriggled around until he put her down. Daichi sighed and clapped a red-faced Tobio’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “She’ll come around.”

“Yeah! Maybe you just smell bad to her or something!” Tobio’s eyes widened, and he lifted his forearm to sniff it. Daichi bit his cheek against a chuckle, but Sou had no such reservations, throwing back his head with his loud kid laugh. “You can’t smell it! Her nose is like, five hundred times better!” He started to rattle off dog-cross facts as Tobio’s flush turned splotchy, edging back from enthusiasm incarnate. Daichi crossed his arms, shaking his head – caught movement out of the corner of his eye. The door was cracked open, enough for Snowflake to wiggle in and one gold eye to peer out. They saw Daichi staring and jerked into the red shadows, door closing-

Sou slammed a hand on the door, big beam on. “Hey! I haven’t met you yet!” He shouldered his way in to snap a bow down, almost hitting Kenma with it. “I’m Sou Inuoka, it’s nice to meet you!”

Kenma’s lip curled behind their hair. Daichi scrambled to grab Sou by the belt and haul him away. “I’m sorry, he’s about as controllable as Snow– hey!” But Sou had escaped his fingers to weave further into Kenma’s suite, looking around with a whistle.

“This place is crazy!” Tobio poked his head in the door, ponytails swinging. “What is this?” he asked, tapping a jar with something suspended in vinegar. Kenma tugged Daichi’s hem.

“Please ask him to be quiet if he’s going to stay,” they murmured, staring at the floor. “Tora’s napping.”

“Oh- of course.” Daichi clicked his tongue, and all three children spun at it. Oops. He smiled. “Settle down, rapscallions. Be polite.” He whispered to Kenma, “You sure they can stay?” The hair nodded. Daichi sighed as Sou dragged Tobio down on a couch, yattering away. “I’ll make tea.”

As Daichi fought the flint to light the burner, Kenma floated over to fold themself on the farther chair from where Sou was trying again to make Tobio and Snowflake friends. Daichi perched on the arm of the chair once the kettle was on, watching Snowflake lick Tobio’s hand and pull out his rare, small smile. Daichi fiddled with his fingers. “Thank you, for the tea,” he said, too low for the distracted kids to hear. “It helps.”

Kenma hummed an answer, not taking their eyes off the carpet under Sou’s boots. “It’s supposed to.” They tugged on their hair. “This is who you and Kuro pulled out of the ship,” they muttered. Daichi blinked.

“Yeah… how did you…”

“I watched.” They flipped the ends of a clump of hair over their palm, just observing. “The other one… he’s not a waterbender.”

Daichi raised his eyebrows. “Well – no, he’s not.” The hair kept flicking. The kettle started to whistle. Daichi cursed and jumped after it, blowing out the stove and pouring out two cups, whisking it up – they only seemed to have green tea in this kitchen. He took two to Kenma’s chair, handing him one. Kenma took it blindly, shaking their hair away so they could drink it without interference. They could wait until they settled down to notice they could make their own. “How can you tell?” Daichi asked.

“Aura.” They took a long pull of their tea, insensitive to the temperature burning Daichi’s tongue. “I’ve never seen one like it.”

Daichi huffed. “Tobio’s – a special one.” Daichi worried his scalded tongue, blew on his tea – oh, hell. “Question.” A string of hair fluttered in a sigh. “Last night, I heard – well, I’m pretty sure I heard that Sou was having nightmares, and that they thought you could do something about them.” He drummed his fingers on his wide, shallow tea bowl. “Why is that?”

Kenma took another sip before he asked, “Who?”

“Oh, it was Yuki, knocking on Kuroo’s-” He clammed up, ears hot. A sliver of gold cut at him through a break in the hair. Daichi swallowed. “Door.”

They flicked their eyes up and down Daichi. “Ah.” They shrugged and turned their attention back to the boys, Sou now rolling around on the floor with Snowflake while Tobio knelt to the side, fists clenched on his knees. “I’ve helped Shibayama with his dreams before,” they said, breath making ripples in their tea. “Kuro, too. All of them.” Another shrug. “It’s part of what I do.”

“That’s… okay.” Daichi whooshed out a breath, sitting back on the edge of the armchair, propping a foot on the edge of the arm. “We don’t have anything like that in the Earth Kingdom.”

“Of course you don’t. Shoes off the furniture.” Daichi dropped his leg to the side, face warm. Kenma finished his tea in little sips, watching as the boys and girl roughhoused like actual children, Sou pulling Tobio out of his shell like a sticky clam. When Sou took a breather to sit against the sofa, encouraging Tobio in his attempts at animal friendship through pants, Kenma stacked his almost-empty cup on a tower on a crowded table and stood. He shuffled over to Sou’s side, laughter falling silent as they knelt, shimmering heat surrounding their hands as they cupped Sou’s face. His eyes flickered shut, sighing into the touch, limbs and face relaxing. Daichi and Tobio, clutching Snowflake still, watched as nothing they could see happened for a full minute, just breathing.

Just when Snowflake started to get restless, Sou’s lower lip trembled, and he burst into raucous sobs, falling on Kenma in a death hug. Kenma stiffened, hands held up in the air as Sou wailed into his robe. Daichi and Tobio glanced at each other –were they supposed to do something, or-

Something bumped in the neighboring room. The bedroom door clanged open to reveal Taketora, growling and brandishing a clump of dried thistle as a weapon. “What the living fuck is going on?” He snapped his eyes to Daichi and snarled, pointing at him with an empathic wave of the thistle. “You!” He whipped the thistle to the unbroken crying, a startled Tobio, and a still-frozen Kenma. Taketora groaned and tossed the thistle over his shoulder. “Ryuu warned me about you and your strays,” he moaned, crossing over to peel Kenma and Sou apart. Sou just latched onto his wrist instead, fat tears still rolling down his face. He sighed, voice softened when he said, “Ken, how many times do I have to ask you to have someone around when you do a healing?” For all his growls and thistle-pricks, his direction of Sou onto the couch proper was easy and gentle, sitting down next to him so he never lost a shoulder to cry on. “You know this happens.”

Kenma didn’t answer, just shuffled out of Sou’s reach. Tobio leant in, eyes wide. “That was healing? Firebenders can heal? How did you do that? Can you show me?” Kenma just kept shuffling back, pushing to his feet and scooting right back to the open bedroom door, closing it behind him. Taketora rubbed his temple as Tobio blinked at the void. “But…”

“Don’t mind them,” Taketora sighed, rubbing down Sou’s back. “They don’t meet new people much.” He glared at Daichi, who held up his hands.

“They said it was okay, I swear.” Taketora still glared, but didn’t press it. Sou’s wails were fading to hiccups. Daichi nodded at him. “He gonna be okay?”

“Yeah. Sometimes, when there’s a lot in there, this happens. Seen it tons.” Taketora adjusted as Sou’s hug developed into a cling. “He’ll pass out in a bit and wake up better.”

“What did he do?” Tobio inched forward, still on his knees. “It didn’t look like much of anything to get this reaction.”

Taketora shrugged. “If I knew that I probably wouldn’t be sitting here.” He reclined on the couch, arm still around Sou to rub his back. “So, what brought y’all down here, anyway? Now that you’re here I guess there’s no point in pretending.”

Daichi grinned. “Following Snow, again. She keeps putting me in tight spots.” Taketora snorted. “Where’s Akane?”

Taketora jerked a thumb up. “Helping Kai out. She can’t get enough of being at the helm.” He frowned. “She told me you’ve visited before, but I didn’t expect you to bring turtle-ducklings.”

Daichi opened a hand. “Neither did I.”

“I don’t understand,” Tobio drawled, frowning around at his surroundings. Snowflake broke from his hold and pranced over to hop in the chair Daichi was perched on. He slid down to sit in it proper so she could drape over his lap. “Why is this a secret? Why haven’t I met him before?”

Taketora flinched. “It’s a long story.” Tobio just stared at him. “I’m not telling you now!”

“Why not?”

Taketora sputtered. “Because I just woke up and I’m covered in leaky teenager!” The leaky teenager in question was starting to droop, long arms loose around Taketora’s shoulders. “Now get, the kid needs some sleep!” Tobio’s jaw clenched, but Daichi extracted himself from chair and dog to haul him to his feet. Taketora’s lip curled as he stroked Sou’s hair. “I’ll send the stupid dog for you when he wakes up,” he swore, “then he’s your problem again.”

Uh-huh. Daichi just smiled and said thank you, telling Snowflake to stay and dragging Tobio out to the hall. Before the door closed again, Daichi caught Taketora lying Sou down on the couch, tucking a pillow under his head.

Tobio blinked at the closed door in the new silence. “Huh.” His fists clenched at his sides. “I want to learn that,” he breathed, arms shaking.

Daichi clapped him on the shoulder, making him jump. “Maybe later. Kenma is – well, they’re shy.” He grinned. “You might want to try being a bit more delicate when you ask them things.”

Tobio blinked. “Why?” Daichi sighed and shook his head.

“We’ll work on that later, I guess.” He jerked his thumb back down the hall. “How about we find a place to run through some earthbending drills, huh?” Tobio perked up and trotted ahead, Daichi scrambling once again to keep up with his long legs.

The ‘stupid dog’ never came to drag Daichi away. Instead, Daichi came up on deck after Tobio got called away by Ukai for tutoring and found Sou surrounded by every free Nekoma sailor, being petted and pampered under a hot blue afternoon sky. He leant in the shadow of the tower doorframe and watched with a smile. The kid seemed a little less edgy than before, less teary after his weepy nap, Snowflake rolling around at their feet. It was nice to see after the devastation of the day before. It would still be a while until they talked to him about it directly, but it was a good first step forward.

Boot heels clacked behind him. “Well, hello, sweetheart,” Kuroo crooned in his ear, hand resting on his back. “You’ve been busy today.”

Daichi shrugged. “Not really-” He flailed as Kuroo yanked him back inside the ship by his tunic, dragging him down the corridor to the first door and throwing him in – an old ammunition storeroom covered in dust. Daichi coughed and pushed off the oil barrel he had landed on as the door clanked shut. “The fuck?” he wheezed into the dark.

A fire dart shot out to the lantern on the wall, illuminating half of Kuroo’s face in stark red. He crossed his arms – uncrossed them to strangle air, teeth grit. “You are just – just the worst thing I’ve ever brought aboard this ship,” he hissed, raking fingers along the top of his head and loosening half of his hair from his topknot. “And I’ve transported tiger-elephant fertilizer.”

Daichi blinked, still clutching the rim of the barrel. “Excuse me?”

“Do you even-” He spun on his heel, clicked them together, hands still twisting an imaginary neck. “Do you even think before you just jump in? Do you get off on being a reckless stupid fucking idiot?”

Daichi frowned. “I don’t know what-”

“Kenma!” He threw a hand in the direction of the deck door, one bright eye wide and wild. “The kid would have been fine, in time! You didn’t need to stick your stupid dirt nose where it had no business being!”

Daichi scowled. “That- it was an accident-”

“I don’t fucking care!” He dragged his hands down his face, bared his throat as he groaned at the ceiling stop it Daichi. “I don’t care why, I just care about how much I’m gonna have to clean up this mess.” He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath – released it. “I know you mean well,” he said in a too-even tone, fingers still hooked in the neck of his shirt. “I’ve never seen someone who means as well as you.” He sighed and dropped his chin, staring at Daichi through too much hair and too little light. “But I’ve been fucked over too many times by good people doing good things to let you keep doing them.”

Daichi huffed and propped his fists on his hips. “First of all,” he snapped, “While I didn’t plan on bringing Sou and Tobio to Kenma-”

“Tobi- you brought the waterbender princeling?”

Daichi punched his arm. “Spirits, do you ever shut the fuck up?” His hand refused to break the physical contact, instead slipping down to catch in the bend of Kuroo’s elbow. “Yes, he was with us when Kenma invited us in. I gave him plenty of chances to kick us out, if he wanted. But they didn’t.” He squeezed Kuroo’s arm. “You may think I’m just landsliding through your precious system and shattering it,” he growled, “but I don’t do anything unless I have permission from the person involved.”

“You’re a liar, Sawamura.” He gripped Daichi’s chin – fuck, he had those gloves on, they were soft – to examine Daichi’s face in the light. “Even if you think you’re right.” Daichi glared right back, palms itchy. “You’re a danger to everything you touch,” he purred, fingers stroking along Daichi’s jaw as his one exposed eye watched their track. “You’re just too young to know it.”

Daichi breathed – felt Kuroo’s body heat just a hand away from his ribs. “You’re just a pessimistic old fart.”

“I prefer ‘realist’.” The hand slid to cup the corner of Daichi’s jaw in his palm, stroking a thumb over his cheek. Daichi’s breath was captured somewhere between his throat and his teeth. “You’ll learn one day,” he sighed, eyes and voice just tired. “I’ll be sad to miss that.”

“Who said you had to?” Kuroo’s mouth twitched.

“That’s sweet, puppy. But we’re at war, remember?” He smiled, soft and small. “You can’t stick around here with me forever, just like how I can’t go with you. You’d burn the ship down.” Daichi snorted – chuckled. Kuroo grinned. “Or bury it, your choice.”

A laugh bubbled out of Daichi before he could swallow it, tight and wet. He knocked his forehead into Kuroo’s chest. “I shouldn’t laugh,” he mumbled, cheek over Kuroo’s heart. “It’s not actually funny.”

Kuroo hummed, hand sliding down his neck and around to weave fingers with his other hand at the small of Daichi’s back. “Sometimes you have to laugh so you don’t go crazy,” he said. Warmth pillowed on top of Daichi’s head – Kuroo’s temple. “I know you’re not trying to be a hurricane,” he mumbled, “but please, be a dear and warn me when you’re going to do something stupid that could get us killed.”

Daichi frowned – pulled back enough to look Kuroo in the face again. “How is introducing Kenma to two people who don’t know or care about his arrest warrant going to get us killed?”

Kuroo’s eye widened – Daichi tucked his stupid bangs behind his ear so he could see them both. “How do you know about that?” he breathed. Daichi shrugged.

“I- I pieced it together.” Kuroo’s eyes narrowed, but Daichi pushed on, “I mean, even if the rest of Seijoh found out, what’s the harm? It’s not like we’ll sell y’all out to the Fire Nation.”

Kuroo heaved a sigh. “You might not,” he explained like it was the phases of the moon. “And the people you tell back home might not. But word travels faster than people, and in a few months some enterprising young bounty hunter will crash in and make me dip into the captain’s gambling winnings to pay for repairs.” He held Daichi closer, stomachs and hips flush. “There’s nothing that doesn’t have a price, dumpling. Even this, even us.” He grinned. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not willing to pay for it.”

Daichi grabbed his face and smashed their mouths together, tilting sideways to get deeper, Kuroo squeaked, but Daichi smacked away before he could react, both gasping. “That’s your warning,” Daichi panted. Kuroo blinked, slow smile dawning across his face in red and black, fingers splayed along Daichi’s spine.

“We should probably stop resolving everything like this,” he whined through his smirk, ducking down to nose at Daichi’s neck. “People have told me it’s not healthy.”

“Fuck them,” Daichi bit out, yanking off Kuroo’s (his) barely-hanging hairtie. Kuroo laughed against his neck.

Late that night, Daichi woke up to pounding and something warm wriggling out of his arms. He moaned, but long fingers traced over his forehead to smooth the furrows. The warmth and the hand slid away, cloth rustling towards the pounding.

“’Lo, Shiba. Nightmares again?”

“Yes! Kuroo, can I please get Kenma? I don’t think anything else will work.”

A long, long pause, long enough for Daichi to blink sleepers from his eyes and stare at the opposite wall. He clenched his fist in Kuroo’s old silk sheets.

A heavy sigh. “Go see if he’s awake,” he groaned. “But if he says no, don’t push it.” Yuki stammered over gratitude as his voice ran away until the door closed on it. Kuroo thumped back to bed and slipped back into his still-warm spot, arching his spine into Daichi’s chest. Daichi pressed his smile to Kuroo’s neck. “Shut it,” Kuroo growled. Daichi chuckled.

Chapter Text

Days slipped by like the current, wide and uneven. Kenma took over Sou’s recovery, quietly asking Taketora to set up a futon in their suite for Sou to sleep on so they didn’t have to cross the ship to settle down a bad dream. Tobio continued to shadow their work in exchange for his silence, eating up techniques and anatomy lessons with an appetite equal to Sou’s physical one. Kenma’s acceptance triggered the final step for Sou’s assimilation into the Nekoma crew, seeping in like wood glue to hold the cracks together. He still came to Daichi to feed treats to Snowflake, but he had a place now, a community, and that would do him more good than any animal therapy.

Daichi, however, was caught between two. He had his place with Seijoh and its abbreviated crew, but he spent almost every night now in Kuroo’s bed, hair ties changing wrists like the wind direction. They still argued and disagreed about every other thing, but instead of it boiling in the background they let it out. Daichi wasn’t sure if this way was better, but it sure was more fun, even if it meant being the only source of gossip in the small town of the ship. At least the Seijoh crew treated him the same – even Issei, despite his unrelenting disdain for his ‘property stealer’.

Their progress up the River Tranquil continued at its jerky pace. They paused several times to wait out unknown perils, tucking into eddies and hiding belowdeck until a mystery signal told them it was safe to continue, taking side routes around islands and tributaries whenever possible. They didn’t run into another war horror scene, but it was a strong enough lesson to keep their complaining to disgruntled mutters.

Almost two weeks of stuttered travel after Sou’s ambush, they berthed for an early night just past a fork in the river around a long island. The mainland was forested to the banks, but there was a cup of cliffs and boulders around a natural harbor that just fit the Nekoma. They offloaded for a night on the beach, Akira, Yuutarou, and Yuki taking the fisher out to teach Sou how to lobster-crab in a river. It was a hot, soupy afternoon, summer having crept in on them as they sailed south – hot enough that Snowflake had turned back around when her paws first touched the blistering dark metal of the deck to spend the day on Kenma’s lap. Everyone on the beach stripped down to their comfort level, sunning on the pebbly shore or swimming along the water’s edge to cool down. It was a little less brown here than in the rest of the river, more green, with almost two feet of visibility instead of half one. Daichi dipped his feet in once or twice, but mostly stayed on the shore, buried to the wrist and ankle in the pebbles, eyes closed, not-talking with Hajime as he listened to the earth. He had missed its voice.

“Are you gonna sit on the side all day?” Daichi cracked an eye as Kuroo walked out of the water towards them, dripping in the sunlight. Hajime groaned beside him, chest-contained and low, but not low enough to keep Daichi’s face from overheating. Kuroo dropped on his other side, grinning sidelong through his stringy bangs. He had his hair wrapped up tighter while he was swimming, only babyhairs in his face instead of the usual full forelock. “Don’t you wanna jump in?”

Daichi grinned. “I’m perfectly fine here on land, thanks.” He shrugged. “Besides, I can’t swim.”

“Oh yeah, I remember you mentioning that.” Kuroo sat back on his hands and crossed his ankles in front of them, shaking water over Daichi’s right side. “I guess I could teach you,” he sighed, “if you’re into that sort of thing.”

Daichi frowned at the water and its current occupants. It didn’t look too hard, but… “Am I going to pay for this?”

“Only in embarrassment and ridicule. So, the usual.” He bumped shoulders, his clammy and damp against Daichi’s sunbaked one. “C’mon. I’ll make it worth your while.”

Hajime pressed against Daichi’s other shoulder. “Y’all are never allowed to give me and Tooru grief about flirting ever again.” Daichi punched at his side while Kuroo donkey-laughed.

“I think you two are precious,” Kuroo purred, reaching around Daichi to flick Hajime’s ear and leaving his arm draped over Daichi’s shoulders. It was nice and cool on his skin, like a damp towel or an ocean breeze. “Like baby animals.”

“Bite me, pigtail.” Daichi snorted, knuckle pressed to his grin. Kuroo’s arm hooked tighter. “You don’t have to live like this,” Hajime told Daichi, gaze level but dimple showing.

Daichi laughed. “Oh, it’s not that bad.” He caught Kuroo’s dangling hand before it could make contact with his bare chest, fingers hanging from knuckles and swinging with the momentum as he mustered up the will to say, “Sleeping with the boss has its perks.”

Kuroo buried his laugh in Daichi’s hair, chest heaving where it was pressed against his arm. Hajime scoffed at Daichi’s grin, face red. “You’re learning some very bad habits,” he growled. Daichi shrugged.

“Tooru taught me that one, actually.” He took advantage of Hajime’s moment of silence to glance at Kuroo, chin propped on Daichi’s shoulder and just smiling away. “You’re not gonna turn evil once I get in that water and drown me?”

“Not a chance, sweetheart. One of your boys would kill me where I swam.” He pressed his mouth to Daichi’s shoulder and stood, not unlocking their fingers so he could pull him to his feet by the hand. “I’ll be right here,” he promised, walking backwards towards the water. Daichi took a deep breath and let him lead.

Walking into the water was fine. He could still feel the extension of the riverbed between his toes, the corners of the cliff above angling into tree root whispers. When the water was waist deep and lapping at his elbows, though, the old panic set in and he stopped, Kuroo bouncing back with the resistance. He took both of Daichi’s hands, heights level now. He smiled, eyes flashing amber and pewter in the angled sunlight. “First rule is not to panic, sweetling.” Daichi snorted. “Look, you have at least one waterbender here, Fukunaga can hold his breath underwater for over three minutes, and I’m not leaving.” He squeezed Daichi’s fingers. “I may not be trustworthy all the time, but I promise right now that I’ll never lie to you.” Daichi squinted at him through his frown. A sliver of white winked through Kuroo’s smirk. “Omitting facts doesn’t count as lying.”

“Says you.” But he took a few deep breaths, closing his eyes, ankle deep in the river mud, before he forced his shoulders down and pushed the mud away. “Okay.”

Kuroo stepped back, bobbing down to the water level as the mud’s slope continued its gradual descent. “Breathe, puppy,” he purred as Daichi inched after him. “Just trust your body. It knows what to do.”

“That’s your advice?” Daichi grit his teeth. “You’re a shitty-ass teacher.”

Kuroo winked. “Well, it’s worked for us before, right?” Daichi growled and lifted his toes from their clinging search for purchase. He dropped on the water, chin touching the surface, but Kuroo kept hold of his hands. “Use your farmer feet, dirtboy,” he said, “but not too wild.” Daichi kicked him in the knee instead, arms extending with the push back. Kuroo pulled him out deeper in revenge. Daichi’s heart was in his ears, throat tight, but Kuroo’s grip on his white knuckles never waned. “Just let the water guide you. No need to fight it.”

“I hate you so much,” Daichi squeezed out through his struggles. Kuroo shrugged.

“Sticks and stones. C’mon, kick.” Daichi swore, and Kuroo grinned.

Kuroo led him in a few loose circuits around the cove, enough for everyone to get a chance to laugh at his flailing and yell bad advice. It wasn’t the best learning environment, but he managed almost a minute total of swimming free and got to dunk Kuroo in and ruin his hair, so it was almost worth it. He was still grateful when he escapted to drag himself out and let Akira dry him off and vowed to bury Kuroo if he tried to ‘teach’ him again.

Now that the kids were back from lobster-crabbing with several pots’ worth of shellfish, they set them to boil, wrapped in seaweed and nestled among red potatoes and corncobs. The cove was starting to cool with the setting sun, so everyone climbed out of the water to sit around the bonfire and talk as they waited for dinner, arguing about how to cook shellfish and showing off convenient bending tricks from their own cultures. Daichi was forced to demonstrate his ‘farmer fuckery’, burying Kuroo to the waist in sudden sand before encasing him in concrete with a wink. It was a deep, righteous feeling to let everyone laugh at him while he struggled against an element he wasn’t supposed to be in, and he wasn’t particularly inclined to stop feeling it. Takahiro had to pull him out in the end, breathless with laughter and pounding on pebbles.

When words could be spoken again, Taketora wiped at his eyes and leant forward on his knees. “Y’know,” he began, “one thing I’ve always wanted to see is an earth-on-earth fight with benders who know what they’re doing.”

Mori nodded next to him as he drained his third beer of the evening, the keg doubling as his seat. “That’s right, we only get to see you lot either shipbound or when you’re trying to kill us.” He handed his empty mug down to Yuki sitting by his feet for a refill. “Not a great way to see what you rockheads can do.”

Yuki laughed as he sipped the foam off the top of Mori’s fresh beer before he handed it back up, earning a headslap for his trouble. “Send us your finest earthbenders!”

Tooru examined his nails. “So, you want a show fight, eh?” A general cheer from both sides. He gave a grand gesture at the four earthbenders in the group. “Boys, pick amongst yourselves, if you care to indulge the ignorant hotheads.”

Daichi kicked a pebble in Hajime’s direction half a turn around the fire, but jumped when two hands clapped down on his shoulders. He looked up at their owners to find both Issei and Takahiro leering down at him. “You’re joking.”

Issei shook his head as Takahiro ruffled his hair and said, “You may not be all that outstanding in hand-to-hand-”

“Oh, thanks-”

“But,” Takahiro pressed on, “you’re a little shit to fight with bending.” Issei nodded along, folding his legs under him as he knelt by Daichi’s side.

“Hajime over there may be the best all-around of us,” he admitted through barely gritted teeth, “but, in my humble opinion, you’re the best bender.”

Daichi pressed a hand to his hammering heart, heat high in his face. “I- I don’t know what to say.”

“You ain’t gotta say nothin’,” Takahiro chirped, slapping his back. “You just gotta kick his ass.”

“Boss on boss battle!” Ryuu crowed. Daichi and Hajime made eye contact over the pots on the fire as people gravitated to their chosen fighter. Hajime quirked an eyebrow. Daichi shrugged. “Well, I’m game if you are.” Hajime cracked his knuckles and grinned.

“Oh, it’s on, farmboy.”

They moved the pots to the end of the opposite finger of the beach from the Nekoma’s dropped ramp and out of firing range, everyone else scaling the cliffs around the wider part of the beach in the middle to watch and heckle from above. Daichi and Hajime waited below, Daichi taking their audience’s settling time to reconsider their surroundings and feel out beyond the surface.

“Scared?” Daichi blinked over at Hajime, his arms crossed and dimple deep. Daichi rolled his eyes.

“Oh, don’t even.” He cuffed Hajime’s shoulder. “You won’t hurt me.”

Hajime chuckled. “And I guess after the day you’ve had, you’re used to humiliation.” Daichi gasped, and Hajime threw back his head with his laugh. He had put his undershirt back on when the sun got below the mountain peaks, but his arms were still on display, a source of Ryuu’s envy and Tooru’s distraction since their first drills back inside the wall. He beamed at Daichi, teeth flashing in the dusk glow and firebender torchlight. “I think it’s time to give them what they came for, eh, boss?”

“Go suck a rock,” Daichi said with a smile and a flip of the back of his hand. Hajime thumbed his nose as they parted to square off a decent distance from each other. “Everybody ready up there?” Daichi called in his field voice, not taking his eyes off Hajime.

“Kick his ass!” Ryuu yelled back.

“First one in the water is the loser!” Kuroo tacked on. “Only earthbending allowed, no touching!” Fair enough. They both took a few steps away from the waterline, their sparring ground lined parallel to it. Daichi set his feet, ground humming under them.

“Ready, set…”

Issei’s two-fingered whistle echoed around the cove. Hajime spun right into a rock throw with a yell, chucking a piece of the cliff behind him at Daichi with a high kick. Daichi stepped to the side and kicked out a sand line with his heel so Hajime’s landing leg sank down to the shin. Hajime pivoted on it instead of losing his balance, other leg sweeping out a spray of pebbles. Daichi shoved up a wall in front of him after the first layer nicked his arms and face and yanked his heel back, grinning at the yelp as Hajime lost his balance as originally designed. He kicked the wall forward at the noise, but Hajime had already expelled himself from the sand’s clutches and up in the air, toes tapping it as it passed beneath him before he crashed back down, sending shockwaves out from his landing. The ground beneath Daichi lifted up sideways to slide him into the water, but he jumped off the ramp with a little ‘hup’, skipping back towards the cliff and burying his fingers in behind him, facing an approaching Hajime head-on.

“Retreating is for the weak!” someone yelled through the general cheers and chaos above. Daichi flicked a finger, rewarded a few seconds later by a startled cry. His grin was permanent now as he splayed his hands out, ten columns shooting out of the wall around him and across the beach towards Hajime, hair whipping his face with the gusts they made. Hajime flipped and wove through them, bouncing off with hands and feet covered by tiled pebbles, the same grin on his face as he dove for Daichi-

Who widened his stance and dropped into the waiting hole in the ground, closing it above him. “Hey!” Hajime yelled from above his hole, but Daichi chuckled and dug his tunnel a few paces forward, towards the middle of the beach, iron in his teeth. “I can see you, you know!”

Bet you can’t see this. He reached up with mirrored rock hands to grab Hajime by the ankles, throwing him towards the water with all his might. The yell carried along its intended arc. Daichi opened up the foot of dirt above him to push out, landing on his knees and facing the direction he had tossed –

Not there. Daichi whipped around, but something like a hand snagged the back of his shirt as it passed, giving him a few brief seconds of flying before he dug his heels in and caught himself, the hand-thing shooting on with its momentum. Hajime was behind to the left, perched halfway up the cliff. Daichi spun, fissures already cracking up to his perch, but Hajime jumped away again, spider-monkeying across the cliff face until Daichi was halfway between him and the water. The cracks were following (surface cracks, Daichi wasn’t an idiot), but Hajime’s feet gripped the side like it was flat ground, punching out a rock column straight at Daichi with both arms. He slapped it aside, redirecting it into the pebbles and sending them scattering, but Hajime was already sprinting down the column itself, lunging at Daichi before he could blink. His rock hand shot out to grab Daichi’s ankle, throwing it up and over so he flipped backwards in the air, world spinning – oh no-

Another pebble hand caught his back as the ankle one yanked so the spin jerked to a halt. He blinked – his hands were wet. He was lowered until they touched mud, then released so he could collapse to all fours in the wrist-deep water. Hajime knelt in front of him, breathing hard but smile splitting his face, hair in his eyes. He reached out a thumb to wipe Daichi’s cheek, coming back red to the wrist. When had that happened? “Good game, Dai.”

Daichi gasped for air, still dizzy from his pinwheel. “You play dirty.”

Hajime shrugged, licking off his hand before holding out his other one to help him up. “Only doing as you do, boss.” Daichi grimaced and took the hand, letting him haul him up as their audience climbed down the cliff behind Hajime’s turned back. Hajime didn’t let his hand go, but gripped the back of Daichi’s head with the blood-stained other one to knock their foreheads together, breathy chuckles escaping with his exhales. “That was fun.” Both hands squeezed. “We should do that again sometime.”

Daichi sucked in a breath, and it might not have been from the exertion. “Yeah.”

Ryuu’s war cry rammed into Hajime’s back, toppling the two of them over, almost knocking them into the water but for Daichi’s grip on Hajime’s waist (when) and soggy mud rising up to support him. Everyone else was a few steps behind, pulling them apart to pound backs and ruffle hair. Ryuu cried into Daichi’s back – he must have bet a lot of money on him – while Takahiro shook him by the elbows.

“That was awesome!” He squeezed Daichi by the waist and swung him around, lifting him so just his toes trailed through the water. “You’ve been holding out on us, man!” He set Daichi back down so he could rabbit punch Hajime’s arm. “And you, too! You’re like a spider-goat over there, or a Dai Li agent!” Hajime’s eyes widened, Tooru’s smile turning metallic over his shoulder. Huh.

“Yeah,” Issei drawled, arms crossed as his eyes narrowed. “Funny.”

“Food’s ready!” Mori yelled from the pots’ hiding place. “Get your slimy asses out of that water and over here before I eat it all!” The circle broke in clumps based on their hunger, trading betted items as they ran. Daichi hung back with Hajime and Tooru, still in Takahiro’s loose hold as he and Issei frowned at a red-faced Hajime and a white-mouthed Tooru. Daichi only had a vague idea of what a Dai Li agent was – some city police type – but it must have carried some weight with the actual city folk. He rolled his eyes and grabbed both Issei and Takahiro by the shirts, hauling them down the beach. “Enough,” he growled. “We can talk about it when we’re not starving.” Both of them looked like they wanted to argue, but his blood was up and he wasn’t in the mood for patience. He shook them silent and shoved them around so he could push them towards the boil pots and away from Tooru and Hajime. “You ask one thing about it tonight and I’ll bury you, see that I don’t.”

Issei sighed. “You’re a real rotten sport when you lose,” he quipped. Takahiro snorted, the scent of lobster-crab and corn wafting towards them silencing the rest of the conversation.

A dinner of boiled lobster-crabs and the rest of Mori’s keg tamped down the energy as dusk turned to night, firebenders sparking up more torches from the leftover seaweed wraps for light. The wreckage of Daichi and Hajime’s fight haunted them from just outside the firelight ring – they would have to clean it up before leaving in the morning – but the conversations flowed away from recaps of the fight and the Yamamotos fussing over Daichi’s cuts with alcohol and bandages to other matters, the strange reaction to Takahiro’s comment almost forgotten. Daichi caught the sidelong glances the two city natives sent his way during the evening, though, as well as Hajime’s disappearance into his beer and heavy press against a subdued Tooru’s side. He chewed his cheek – but, no, he could wait.

As the night crept in, the beach crowd found soft spots to fall asleep on, Daichi and Takahiro sinking pebbles into uniform loam without being requested. Some curled up alone while others piled on top of one another, strange masses in the bonfire shadows. Kuroo and Daichi were some of the last awake, propped up against each other and the last little bit of the cliff before it sloped down into the river. Their conversation had fallen quiet a while ago, passing the last of the keg dregs back and forth and watching the scenery. Hajime had scaled the cliff at some point, sitting alone at the top now. His silhouette against the moon kept catching Daichi’s eye, making his leg twitch.

Kuroo drained the last bit of foam from their mug and sighed, standing to stretch. “Well. I’m going to check on Kenma.” He bent down to kiss Daichi, slow and lingering, cool hand on the back of his neck. Daichi craned into it, breath pulled out of him as Kuroo drew away. Kuroo’s eyes smiled, stroking fingertips along Daichi’s hairline. “You should probably do the same.”

Daichi blinked the stars from his eyes. “Is ‘checking on Kenma’ our code now?”

Kuroo chuckled. “No, I meant go talk to your problem child of the day.” He nodded in the direction of Hajime’s outline against the night sky. “I know you want to.”

Daichi bit his lip. “I should, shouldn’t I.” Kuroo nodded, hand sliding down his arm to take his hand and tug him to his feet. Daichi couldn’t stop himself from pushing to his toes for another slow kiss, but Kuroo pulled away before long, hands swinging at their sides.

“Go.” He pecked Daichi’s forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning.” He walked away, hands in his pockets as he made his slow way around the beach to where the point of the Nekoma’s prow had been lowered to the other arm of the cove. Daichi watched him go until color washed to black and white, the only motion his swinging ponytail. Daichi squared his shoulders and turned to climb along the top of the ridge, an easier way than scaling the cliff face.

When Daichi reached Hajime’s hiding spot, he had fallen back on the scrubby grass spread-eagle, staring up at the stars and heels drumming the cliff. Daichi sat cross-legged beside him, a good arm’s reach away from the edge, and waited. He had gotten good at it.

Hajime’s fingers curled and uncurled on empty air. “Go ahead,” he mumbled, more of a chest rumble than words. “Ask.”

Daichi pulled up a handful of grass. “I think I need more context before I can do that.” He let the blades fall into Hajime’s upturned palm. “I don’t really know what the Dai Li is.” Hajime’s fist clenched around the grass. “I’ve heard rumors about some kind of city police with hats, but we never had much to with things like that in the Outer Ring.” He shrugged. “Guess I don’t get the big deal.”

“The Dai Li protect our cultural heritage,” Hajime recited in a cold monotone. He squeezed his eyes shut, face scrunched up. “You don’t just leave the Dai Li,” he whispered. “It’s just not done.” He rolled on his side, facing Daichi. “There are secrets, rules, customs, peace to keep-”

“Hey.” Daichi laid a hand over the wrist thrown at his crossed ankles. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” Hajime exhaled, a few forehead furrows evening out. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

“But I do.” He pushed up to his hands, beer on his breath fogging in Daichi’s face – had he ever seen Hajime drunk before? “I’m tired of hiding, pretending…” He banged their foreheads together, hard enough to hurt, noses brushing and eyes open. Daichi had never noticed they were the exact color of good green tea. “You deserve to know,” he said, resting too much of his weight on Daichi’s forehead. Daichi swallowed, neck straining to stay upright and steady.

“Okay then.” He raised a shaky head to Hajime’s elbow to push him back some – missed and landed on his waist. “Talk.”

Hajime’s throat worked. “When I told you before that I knew Tooru in the city,” he said in a quiet rush, “I was actually Dai Li assigned to spy on his family.” His head slipped off Daichi’s to land on his shoulder. “It was my first assignment,” he muttered, “and now, my last.” Daichi’s waist hold slid around to rest on Hajime’s back, fingers collecting on the dip of his spine. “I’m not a spy, not anymore.” His breath ghosted over Daichi’s collar. “I left them. For Tooru.”

Daichi stared at the bumps of the downriver hills, the swollen almost-full moon high above them. “You don’t seem like a spy kind to me,” Daichi said after his breathing evened, hot and cold alternating on his skin. “Maybe you left for Tooru in your head,” he thought aloud, “but I can’t imagine you would have done that if you weren’t leaving for you, too.” He tucked his chin over Hajime’s shoulder. “For what it’s worth,” he added, “I’m glad you did.”

“Yeah.” He sniffed, his tipsy lean on Daichi more of a full-body sprawl now. “Me, too.”

Daichi’s hand rubbed circles into Hajime’s back. “Would you want to tell the others?” Hajime stiffened. “They’re smart. They’ll figure it out on their own eventually.”

“Surprised it took this long, honestly.” He wiped his face on Daichi’s shirt. “But I don’t know if I should. I don’t want them in trouble for knowing too much when they get back home.” His hands pulled up grass at Daichi’s sides. “I don’t know what story I left behind. It could be nothing, but the Dai Li don’t like to lose anything.”

“They don’t sound like a great place to work for.” Hajime snorted. Daichi laid his cheek on Hajime’s shoulder to look down at the ship, a dark irregular hole against the moon-sparkle water. “I’m not going to make your decision for you,” he said to the ship. “It’s up to you who to tell and who to not.” His fingers clenched in Hajime’s shirt. “But I’ll be here for you either way.”

“I know.” Another sniff. “Thank you.”

Daichi smiled. “Now, are you going to let me go so we can get down from here and let Tooru fuss over you?” Hajime chuckled.

“In a minute.” He circled his arms tight around Daichi’s waist. “Just… gimme a min’.” Daichi sighed and gave him five.

Chapter Text

They hadn’t seen much in the way of other human activity since entering the River Tranquil, mostly by design. A few small Earth Kingdom fishers like the one in their loading bay scuttled by sometimes or were banked on the shore as they coasted past, and two or three of their sidewinding routes featured houseboat villages, but shore settlements were non-existent. There was evidence of old ones, abandoned buildings swallowed by the forest, rotted piers, lines of non-native trees too orderly for nature’s design, but never any inhabitants. People had abandoned the no-man’s-land border, and Daichi was beginning to see why. They were starting to run out of food, and there was only so much trout one could eat before you just wanted something else.

One morning at breakfast, Kuroo caught everyone’s attention with a clang of the rice pot. “Quick announcement,” he said, too bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for how Daichi felt after their late night together. “Forward scout said there’s a new fort a few klicks ahead. It’s one of ours, so we’ll be able to pass, but chances are we’ll have to stop and pay our dues.” He spread a hand. “It would be most appreciated if anyone who isn’t supposed to be on this ship stay out of sight until we pass.”

Takahiro raised his hand. “This place has real meat, right?” Kuroo made a noncommittal nod-shrug, but Takahiro still slapped his hand down on the table and said, “Lock me up, boys!” Kuroo smiled.

“That’s the spirit.” He crossed his arms. “If you stay close to quarters, we’ll be able to respond quicker to any inspection they might request to do, so please don’t wander too far.” Daichi glared right back at his pointed one-eyed stare. Kuroo didn’t say anything else, though, but turned to Kai with a leading gesture. “Helmsman, if you could take us out on this fine morning?” Kai ducked his head with an unreadable smile, Akane dropping her bowl in the washbasin and following as they headed out and up. Mori knocked back the last of his rice and ran to work as well, the ship crew splitting off to their separate duties.

Tooru slid down the bench away from his seat next to Hajime along the wall to the aisle, almost knocking Daichi off the edge as he stretched over him to grab Kuroo’s arm as he passed. He turned his sunbeam smile on full force, Daichi cramped down sideways and supporting his weight. “Oh, captain,” he sang, “would you entertain me and listen to a few questions from this honored guest?”

Kuroo stared at him, at Daichi complacent and squished under him. “Oh, I’m going to regret this.” He perched on the edge of the table, hands loose in his lap as he asked, “What does this honored guest need to say?”

“I appreciate your undying concern for our safety,” Tooru began, sugar syrup on his tongue as he got comfortable on Daichi’s contorted back, eyelashes fluttering. “But would it be possible if I could tag along on your little supply jaunt?” Kuroo’s eyes narrowed with his frown. “I promise to obey any blending-in directions you may have,” he drawled, “I’ll even put on some of your tacky armor.” Daichi grumbled and crossed his arms on the tabletop, plopping his chin down on his forearms instead of kicking Tooru off the bench like he deserved. Tooru draped farther over him to get into Kuroo’s disgruntled space. “And I’d like your little lover here to come along as well.” Daichi stomped on his foot. “Ow!”

“No.” Tooru gasped. “You reek of merchant, precious. They’d know you weren’t a soldier in a breath.” Fingers curled under Daichi’s chin and lifted it to look up at Kuroo’s smile. “And these pretty green eyes would take even less time to notice.” Daichi’s ears flared white-hot, throat closing up, but Kuroo’s fingers slid away to drum on the steel table. “Why would you want to go at all? It’s not exactly fancy fine dining, it’s a fresh-cut fort. I’ll be surprised if they have a real bathroom.”

“I don’t mind the uncouth way you barbarians decide to live,” Tooru said with a hand flop (ignoring that the facilities on the Nekoma were decades ahead of even the Amemaru bathhouse). “I’m just looking for a good learning experience.”

Kuroo sighed and looked over at Hajime, who hadn’t left yet like everyone else but was hovering a few yards away. “Please do whatever aggressive magic you do to get a straight answer from him. I don’t have time for this.”

But Daichi knew how Tooru’s head clicked together now. “He wants to network.” All three of them paused bickering to stare at him. He shrugged as much as Tooru’s weight allowed, face warm under scrutiny. “It’s been – what, half a century since your family got to trade with the Fire Nation?” he asked, trying to look up at Tooru on his back. “I bet it’s eaten y’all raw that you can’t because of the war.” He tapped Tooru’s ankle with the side of his foot. “This would get you a leg up on your siblings, right, dear?”

Tooru sighed, finally getting off Daichi’s back to sit like a normal person. “I really need to stop forgetting how quick you are.” Daichi stayed on the table, watching Kuroo’s fingers drum as he chewed his cheek.

“So. You are just being a dirty merchant.” Kuroo sighed, shoulders falling back. “Well, you won’t find much by the way of trading connections out here,” he explained in that annoying children’s-teacher manner. “It’s just a rough army outpost.”

“Maybe you’re – right,” Tooru admitted through gritted teeth. “But it’s never guaranteed. Even so, I’d like to shadow. I’m interested to see what you hotheads consider a ‘rough army outpost’.”

Kuroo’s frown stayed intact as they stared each other down, Tooru unmoving and unblinking. Kuroo tapped Daichi’s elbow. “Why him?”

Tooru laid a hand on Daichi’s shoulderblade. “Daichi has the common touch I lack at times,” he explained, back to his flowery tone after the brief lapse into baldness. “And as you should know by now, he’s a very quick study.”

“Thanks, I think,” Daichi grumbled.

“Oh, I love your rugged everyman farmhand exterior,” Tooru assured him, hand patting his back. “It’s very useful.”

“It’s still a no on him, cornflower,” Kuroo said, cutting off their banter. “I have a strict policy against non-brown eyes in Fire Nation territory.” He leant forward into Tooru’s space, shadow cooling Daichi between them. “But it might be interesting to have you along.” He smirked. “Provided you only speak when spoken to.”

Daichi hid his grin behind his arm as Hajime chuckled behind them. “Oh, please,” Hajime said through it, “I would pay to see that.”

“You’re banned too, earthboy.” Kuroo answered, tone light. “Although I do understand your motivations.” The fingers drum. “Well? Are we agreed?”

Tooru grumbled, but made a fist with the hand on Daichi’s back and pounded it. “Fine. Let’s go.”

Kuroo gestured him on. “As you wish, princess. Let’s get you dressed up.” Tooru hmphed, nose in the air as he used Daichi’s back as a prop to extract himself from between the welded-down bench and table. He marched out of the mess, Kuroo sauntering after him.

“This I gotta see,” Hajime muttered, following. He paused in the door and called back, “You comin’, Dai?”

Daichi groaned, planting his face on the table. He was already exhausted. “Yeah, yeah. Be there in a bit.” Hajime exited, leaving him alone in the mess to contemplate his headache tea and his life in silence.

“I look awful in these colors,” Tooru moaned a few hours later, fidgeting with his borrowed armor and pulling a face. Daichi slapped his hands away so he could finish buckling on the breastplate under his arm.

“Shut up, no you don’t. And stop squirming.” He pulled the strap tight to a squeak from Tooru, then stepped around to look him over from the front. He didn’t project the natural confidence or danger of Kuroo and his men in the dramatic red and gold armor, but it wasn’t exactly ill-fitting, either. Daichi rapped his knuckles on the enamel over his heart. “You clean up nice, Oikawa.” He grinned. “I’ll have to tease Hajime about that.”

“I’m right here.” Hajime scoffed from his corner of the armory, leaning in the shadows away from the action. Maybe he felt about Tooru like Daichi did about Kuroo in uniform. Tooru just winked at Daichi, shaking his hair back as he looked around the armory. Everyone else going ashore was already geared up and gone, a strange collection of armor sets and weaponry their audience. Tooru ran a hand along the spear rack, getting a feel for how this armor moved as he walked. “They sure are obsessed with metal, aren’t they?”

“It has its uses.” They looked over at the open door to find Kuroo leaning against the frame, arms crossed. “Ready, princess? We’ve just been cleared to dock.”

“Just a second.” He wandered over to a dusty corner to dig something out, too distracted by it to yell about being called ‘princess’.” He came back up with an old sword, long-handled in a dusty leather sheath. He blew it off, wiping the clinging dust with a nearby banner. “Do you mind if I arm myself, captain?”

Kuroo raised an eyebrow as Tooru buckled on the belt, fiddling with the sheath so it didn’t tangle up his legs. “Only if you can use it.” Tooru drew the blade, holding the pommel to his eye to look down the length. “I had no idea you were interested in such matters,” he drawled.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” He made a few swipes with the blade, spun, and Daichi got a breath of an old war song stuck in his head again. “It’ll do, I guess.”

Kuroo shrugged. “You can have it. None of my boys like those things.” Tooru’s eyes narrowed as he sheathed it again. Kuroo rolled his eyes with a groan. “It’s a nice gesture, bitch. Don’t go all suspicious mister on me.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “C’mon, before I change my mind about this dumb idea.” He stomped off down the hall, boots clacking.

Daichi sighed. “Can’t you at least pretend to get along sometimes? For me?”

“Sorry, dear, but he started it.” He looked between both Daichi and Hajime. “Keep an eye on everyone, okay? I’ve got the feeling I usually get right before an ambush.” They both nodded, and he hurried to follow Kuroo’s lead before he could get left behind, blowing a kiss at Hajime. Hajime slapped it away and pushed off his wall to come to Daichi’s side, cuffing his arm.

“C’mon. You look like you need a nap.”

Daichi groaned. “I need three.” Hajime grinned, and they left the armory together, Hajime’s arm draped around Daichi’s shoulders.

Like their habit had become after so many times hiding below, they collected in Tooru’s suite, lingering by the window to watch the shore. Daichi had noticed a long time ago that these front windows were barely visible from the outside, only showing when it caught the sun’s rays in early morning or late afternoon. There were a lot of little details like that on the Nekoma that Daichi was beginning to understand weren’t standard issue. Daichi tried to sneak back to the quiet bedroom to get those three naps in, but Ryuu caught him first and dragged him back bodily to the group at the window, perching on a stool and making Daichi half sit in his lap. Apparently someone was feeling left out. Daichi sighed and rolled with it, describing Tooru’s getup to a fascinated Yuutarou and watching out the window for signs of life.

Kuroo wasn’t lying when he called this a ‘rough outpost’. The fort itself was lashed-together tree trunks on top of a rise of the bank, not quite a hill or a cliff but somewhere in between. The land around it had been cleared a hundred yards or so out, scorch marks still on parts of the earth, a dull grey scar on the blue-green and dark brown landscape. There were a few other ships berthed at the bobbing dock, although the Nekoma stood the tallest by a fair margin. Red bits of armor walked along the top of the fort, between the dock and the lowered main gate, and on the decks of the other ships. It was strange, knowing in theory they were in enemy territory for weeks but only now seeing it up close and alive. Even without the history that everyone else had with Fire Nation troops, Daichi was a little shaken by the sharp gold points and pindrop precision on display.

The day slid by into twilight as so many others had, idle conversations only broken when Tooru’s unmistakable hair appeared on the gangway and they got to make fun of his stiff gait from afar. Daichi did break away for his nap eventually, sprawling across the slippery silk bed with whoever else needed to recharge at the moment. There were worse ways to spend time spent idling outside a Fire Nation fort.

 Daichi woke up in full sometime before they wandered back to the mess for dinner. The shore team was still missing, Yuki telling them and the remaining Nekoma members that they were staying the night ashore at the fort captain’s request. It was routine for these isolated outposts, less for any threat and more to pick brains for news and gossip and have some company beyond the squads stationed there. Yuki reported over some hasty rice in the mess about a sharp-eyed but friendly brigade that postured as expected and didn’t look to have any suspicious minds interested in poking at the ship. The relayed orders from Kuroo were still to hang tight to the guest quarters in case they changed their minds, but to expect them back at dawn for an unremarkable departure. He ran back off the ship as soon as he was done, the charts he had been sent to fetch tucked under one arm. Mori locked the ship up behind him, leaving Seijoh on the boat with him, the Yamamotos, and Nekomata for the night.

Daichi ended up in Takahiro and Issei’s room with Hajime, passing around a bottle of sake that tasted like home and trading family stories over Snowflake’s sleeping head. Takahiro and Issei were always the center with their shared decade together, but Daichi had his own life to tell, a different setting with the same players and endings. Hajime stayed quiet, leaning on Daichi’s shoulder and only laughing along as the sake turned his ears pink, his lean slowly turning into a hold. Maybe with Tooru ashore he needed someone else to cling to.

“…And that was the last time were allowed in that park!” Takahiro cried, ending his current story with a flourish of the half-empty sake bottle. He got a final swig of it before he reached across the space between the bunks to hand it to Hajime. “Say, I think that place was over near your neck of the woods,” he said. “Did they ever rebuild that statue?”

Hajime shrugged as he took the bottle, eyes hazy. “Dunno. Only went there to take my brother fishing.” He stood the bottle on Daichi’s thigh, staring down at the firelight flickering on glass. “He died before we could go back.”

Takahiro hissed. “Oh, yeah… I forgot about that, sorry.” Hajime knocked back a swallow that lasted a few gulps, face furrowed. Daichi kept him steady as he swayed, fingers in his tunic. The hours of laughter rattling around the room sucked away with his gasp, fingers too tight around the bottle for Daichi to ease it away.

“His name was Motoki,” he told the quiet room, cheek hot on Daichi’s shoulder. Snowflake perked her head up from the floor to watch. “He was four years younger than me.” He sucked in a breath. “And I just let them die.”

“Oh no- hey-” Takahiro tried, but Hajime turned his face into Daichi’s sleeve, arms constricting around his waist. The other two stared at him with wide eyes, up at Daichi, just as perplexed and frozen. “It was an accident,” Takahiro said in a small voice.

Hajime rolled his head back and forth on Daichi’s arm, not quite a shake. “I should have been there,” he muttered, bottle sloshing against Daichi’s opposite hip. “I could have…”

“Don’t do it, Hajime.” He looked at Issei with one eye as Issei stared him down, arms crossed. “You can’t go back. It only hurts to pretend otherwise.” He smiled, slight and sad. “You just have to remember how they were. It’s the best way to keep them alive.” He opened a hand. “Of course, you need to do it in your way. Talking about it isn’t always the best.” He nodded at the bottle. “But drinking it away isn’t great, either.”

Hajime hiccupped. “Haven’t drunk since then,” he mumbled, knocking the bottle on Daichi’s side. “Sorry.” He let Daichi take the bottle away from him now so he could set it on the floor, Hajime shifting with him.

“What were your parents’ names?” Daichi asked, rubbing circles with his thumb into the arm on his stomach. Hajime sighed.

“Misae,” he breathed, “and… and Takashi.” He smiled with a breathy chuckle. “No one called him that, though. He was always just Chief.” A deep breath. “We fought a lot, but…” He sniffed, trailing into silence. Daichi gripped his wrist tight. He knew in theory that, before showing up at the Sugawara estate – before the Dai Li, he guessed – Hajime had lived in the Lower Rings of the city, some other neighborhood than Takahiro or Issei, and that his family had died in a fire at their pottery kiln. Hajime never talked about it, though, or much of anything about his early life. It was like he was only a sketch before he appeared on Daichi’s porch his second night picking tea. He laid his cheek on the top of Hajime’s head, the gulf of what he didn’t know yawning between them. He blinked up at Takahiro and Issei, Takahiro gnawing on his lip and Issei’s foot jiggling. ‘M’sorry,” Hajime said to Daichi’s tunic. “Didn’t wanna drag y’all down.”

“Hajime.” Daichi flicked his forearm. “Don’t be like that. What else are we good for?” Hajime chuckled, a little loose and watery. Daichi hummed. “I don’t really remember my mother myself,” he said, watching Issei’s foot twitch with unfocused eyes. “I was barely a toddler when she got sick, and she went pretty soon after. I…” His mouth twitched. “I guess I only remember what she smelled like. I don’t even know how to describe it.” He rubbed his cheek on Hajime’s hair, spiky and rough. “But Dad’s never stopped talking about her, or the rest of the farm. I feel like I know her anyway.”

Hajime nodded against his arm. “S’nice.” Snowflake jumped up on the bed by Daichi, crawling across his lap to stick her nose in Hajime’s face. He let go of Daichi’s waist so he could scratch her ears, her tail thumping on the bedspread.

“My parents were killed by the Fire Nation.” Daichi and Hajime looked up from Snowflake at Issei’s sharp face, highlighted in red and gold light. Takahiro reached over to pat his arm, but Issei grabbed his hand instead to strangle it, face impassive as he wove their fingers together. “We were all little,” he said to his knees, Takahiro shifting around so he wasn’t contorted to hold Issei’s hand. “And seven kids is a lot of kids. Be we… we made it work, the farm. It wasn’t much.” He clenched his eyes shut. “I don’t think the troops who burned it up even cared,” he hissed, knocking his head back. “Who cares about a little blip of a sunflower field when you’re scorching your way across the earth?” He grit his teeth, ground them. Takahiro’s thumb stroked along the back of his hand. He exhaled, tension not quite leaving. “We had to grow up.” His chest rose, fell. “That’s all this place is, a world of children who had to grow up too fast for the wrong reasons.”

Takahiro forced out a bubbly chuckle, bumping their shoulders. “Matt, you’re so drunk,” he crooned. “You only get philosophical like this when you’re slammed.” Issei huffed, and Takahiro grinned. “Lighten up, old man,” he joked, chin on Issei’s shoulder, flush splotchy pink around his smirk. “You’re bringing the party down.”

Issei cracked an eye to look over at him. “You’re right. Sorry.” He lifted their hands to smack a kiss on the back of Takahiro’s, leaving him red-faced and speechless. Maybe it was time for them to go…

“Haj…” Daichi lifted his head to look at Hajime’s face – oh. He was asleep. He rolled his eyes, but the sake was sitting heavy in his limbs now, too. “Snow, fetch Ryuu.” She yipped and jumped off their laps, wriggling out the crack in the door. Across the room, Takahiro and Issei were blind to their audience, faces a hand apart as Issei kept Takahiro’s pressed to his mouth, eyes doing the talking. Daichi moved slow, unfolding his legs from under him and putting his feet on the ground. Sake tended to burn lower in his veins than other liquor, a hum rather than a buzz, so he was mostly steady as he maneuvered Hajime into his arms and stood. He was heavy, but Daichi had learned by now that once he fell asleep, Hajime was out for the next eight hours, no matter storm or earthquake.

The standing got Takahiro’s attention, if not Issei’s. “Boss?” he hissed. Daichi smiled and hoisted Hajime better in his arms, getting a grunt for his troubles.

“It’s okay.” He nodded at Issei, still staring at Takahiro’s profile. “You two have some stuff to sort out on your own.” Takahiro puffed up, but Daichi used Hajime’s foot to open the door wide enough for more than a fox-dog.

Issei lifted his hand to tuck Takahiro’s hair behind his ear, snapping his attention back to the real threat. “I like your skin,” he muttered to a squeak from Takahiro. Daichi smiled and shuffled into the hallway.

“Dai, you really need to work on your beastie’s manners,” Ryuu called down the corridor, yawn echoing. Snowflake trotted up to Daichi’s heel as Ryuu followed, rubbing at his eyes, wearing his sleep pants and nothing else. He blinked his eyes open and screeched to a halt a few feet away. “What the devil?”

Daichi chuckled. “Nothing, just sake. Close that door for me, please?”

Ryuu frowned, but obeyed, not even looking inside before it slid shut. “He never drinks liquor, we all know that. What’s really up?”

Daichi grunted. “Can I tell you when I’m not drunk and holding hundred-eighty pounds of dead weight?” Ryuu shrugged and led the way back to their room. Daichi’s assigned bed looked dusty next to Ryuu’s rucked-up one. He laid Hajime down on it, tugging the end blanket over him. Hajime curled on his side, facing the wall, snoring quietly as he settled in. Daichi sat behind him, warm and heavy as his hand brushed rough hair from Hajime’s face.

“Okay.” Daichi blinked up at Ryuu, sitting on his bed with knees spread and hands planted on them. “What the fuck.”

Daichi drew his hand away. “Uh…”

Ryuu stared at him, hard, long eyelashes highlighting his scowl. When Daichi’s scramble for words came up empty, he sighed and rubbed a temple. “Hell, Dai, what’re you getting yourself into? First the fire pirate, now…” He groaned and slapped his palm on his forehead. “It’s too late for this,” he groaned through gritted teeth. “Just… just get your ass over here. Leave that man alone.” Daichi bit his lip, the heat of Hajime’s back behind him flaring iron hot. He forced himself away and across the room as Ryuu crawled back in his bunk, holding the covers up for Daichi to squeeze in next to him, Snowflake hopping up to curl between their feet.

It was a tight fit, nothing like Kuroo’s slick too-big bed upstairs, but Ryuu had replaced the red silk sheets with their old cotton ones from the road, and even if they smelled like the herbs of the Nekoma’s laundry soap, the homespun scratch was more relaxing than any silk thread count. Daichi sighed, throwing an arm over Ryuu’s side. “Missed this,” he admitted to the shared pillow. Ryuu grunted.

“Well that’s what you get for sleeping with a damn pirate.” Ryuu bumped their heads together. “An’ for having shit taste in dudes.”

Daichi huffed, not quite a laugh. “He ain’t that bad.”

“Blinded by love.” Daichi sucked in a breath. “Yet another good dude lost to it…” Ryuu yawned. “Night, Dai.”

“Yeah… night.” Ryuu knocked right out, but Daichi was restless, words refusing to settle down, sake still swimming around. Maybe…

Someone knocked at the door. Daichi moaned and rolled out of Ryuu’s hold, padding to the door and cracking it. Both he and Ukai blinked at each other. “Sawamura?”

“Yeah?”

Ukai shook his head. “Right. Of course.” He cleared his throat. “Have you seen Tobio? I can’t find the little shit anywhere on this blasted ship, I’ve been looking all damn night.”

Daichi frowned. “Tobio? No, I…” Snowflake’s fur brushed against his calf. He smiled. “She can probably tell you, though.” She trotted on down the hall towards the bow of the boat – ah, shit. “I’ll come with you,” he said, slipping down into the hall with a fixed smile. “I could use a walk.”

Ukai could normally smell a lie, but he just ran after the fox-dog. Daichi jogged after him, stumbling over uneven floor plates and struggling to dream up a way to divert Ukai from Kenma’s door, or an explanation-

But Snowflake jumped down a staircase instead of up, nose to the ground as she followed a twisting pattern to the port side, Ukai and Daichi struggling to keep up with her four legs. She had grown so much already, and it had barely been a month since they left the Northern Water Tribe. She was going to be a monster.

She paused at a closed door, pawing at the lock. Ukai hauled it open, and they were met with a blast of cool wet air. It was the shielded side dock, an emergency lifeboat storage area with a lip shielding it from deck view and the elements. Snowflake ran in circles around the boats, climbing over ropes and old nets… oh no…

She sat by the edge of the drop in a cleared spot where a lifeboat used to sit, tail thumping as she whined, staring out at the water. Ukai kicked a bucket across the floor with a growl. “Motherfu- of course. Of course!” He yanked at his dreads. “I take my eyes off him for a second-”

Daichi knelt next to Snowflake, scratching between her shoulders as Ukai muttered and ranted behind him. “Good girl,” he said, scrounging up some dusty jerky from his pocket as he peered at the water. “Good girl.” They were facing the Earth shore on this side of the ship, half a mile away and too far for an inexperienced rower to even try to make in the dark. Now that he was outside and away from the white noise of the ship berth, he could hear commotion and ringing from the other side of the ship. Alarm bells. Ah, hell.

Chapter Text

Daichi really didn’t want to do this. But he didn’t have much of a choice. He sighed and pounded on Issei and Takahiro’s door with the side of his fist, tuning out the chaotic yelling from down the hall. “Open up, y’all,” he called. “Emergency.”

“Shove it up your ass!” Takahiro’s voice yelled back through the door. Daichi just kept pounding.

“Y’all, you know I wouldn’t interrupt unless I really needed y’all.” He stopped banging to listen. Things clattered around inside until the door cracked, a ruffled and fairly naked Issei peering through the sliver with a scowl. “Tobio’s missing,” Daichi said before he could ask. “Looks like he’s gone ashore, and the fort’s ringing alarm bells. Nekomata says they’re an intruder alert.”

Issei banged his forehead on the door, repeating a line of ‘fuck’s with each knock. “Why?” Daichi shrugged. “Motherfucker.”

“I’ve already got Yuu waking up Hajime, with water if he has to,” Daichi said, “but I could really use y’all now to find him before they do.”

“Yeah. Gonna fucking kill him.” But Issei left the door crack to find clothes, Takahiro and him already bitching about it. Daichi didn’t wait to make sure they were coming and ran back to the chaos center, the skeleton crew and Seijoh’s conglomeration in a wider area of the ship corridor around a ladder. Hajime looked like wet death, Yuutarou like he had seen it. When Daichi joined the circle, Hajime buried his face in Daichi’s back with a long groan. Daichi’s shoulders stiffened, but he stayed focused on Nekomata and Mori, who were arguing about- something.

“I’m telling ya, old fart, I can get my baby back to give y’all a blind spot to shore-”

“-And I know they’ll see us moving.” Nekomata scratched his chin. “For all we know they’ve already-”

“No.” Daichi blinked at Akira’s interruption. “Kageyama won’t go down like this. He’s too obnoxious for that.” He crossed his arms. “He’s out there, causing trouble and stupid shit like always.”

“And he’s on his own,” Yuutarou growled, fear gone in the face of his old anger. “I’m not saving his ass.”

Daichi scowled. “Yes you are.” Yuutarou jerked back, and in another situation Daichi might adjust his tone, but it was this situation. He continued, “You’re both taking us ashore and we will find him before sunrise.”

“And if he’s not dead then I’ll kill him myself,” Issei snapped as he stumped up, clothes askew and face flushed. Takahiro was on his heels, just as ruffled and pink. “We don’t have time for this shit,” he growled, all his usual velvet edges sanded away. He pointed at Yuutarou and Akira. “You. With me.” They growled, but Issei ignored it and swung to Daichi. “You. And your mutt. You’re coming. Hajime, your spider-monkey ass better sober up before I make you sober up.”

“I’m trying,” Hajime moaned into Daichi’s back. He reached back and patted Hajime’s spiky head.

“And Tanaka.” Ryuu perked up. Issei turned his copperfire eyes on Mori. “Get us to the water. We’ll take it from there.”

Ukai let out a strangled gasp. “But- I have to-”

“Can you move silently in the woods at night, sir?” Issei stepped up to tower his full half a head over Ukai. “I don’t care how much you’re blaming yourself right now,” he said, low and dangerous, “but this is our job. You’ll be in the way.” He didn’t wait for Ukai to respond, moving back to look at Nekomata. “Stay here in case the brat makes his own way back. We won’t be long.”

Nekomata nodded, gripping Ukai’s arm to keep him from trying to kick Issei’s face in. Issei strode past him towards the ladder, back stiff. Mori was waiting at the ladder hole, swinging around a pole and clicking his tongue. The called-out party followed, single file, sliding down the ladder after Mori’s hoarse caw. Daichi took the rear, Snowflake tight at his calf. He picked her up and tucked her under his arm (she was getting heavy) and clapped Ukai’s shaking elbow. “We’ll get him back.”

Ukai’s red-rimmed eyes bore into him, hand trembling as he gripped Daichi’s forearm. “I know you will.”

Mori led them to a bolthole on the port side of the Nekoma right above the waterline. He and Ryuu hauled it open, cool night air gusting in with a thunder roll from the downstream storm. “I can’t leave this open for too long or we’ll flood,” Mori called out over the wind scream, backlit by heat lightning as water rushed in to pool at their feet. “But I’ll wait here until you get back! Just knock!” Daichi nodded as the waterbenders led the way out, five others and a fox-dog following one by one, ice frozen to the side of the ship for a moment of stability. “Good luck,” Mori said, hauling the porthole shut.

It was pitch black outside, claustrophobic clouds hiding the moon and stars from sight. Heat lightning flickered in the clouds, only striking thunder every tenth flash. Daichi blinked as his eyes adjusted, hand in Snowflake’s collar and knee on cold ice as chilled water lapped at his feet.

Seijoh communicated in hand signals and whistles, the ice splitting in two so Akira and Yuutarou could follow the berth of the ship to the stern and peer for safe passage. The water past the docked ships was ink, all of the firepower focused on the fort and the dead area around it. Daichi watched the shore as Yuutarou followed Akira through the shadows, crouching over Snowflake’s white fur to shield it from eyecatching view. The fort didn’t look like the kicked anthill he half-expected, but the wall beacons were lit and shining on the forest edges, orderly uniforms talking by the gate as more poked spears into the bushes.

They slipped on downstream to where some tall rushes hid their landing from view, coasting in as far as the reeds would let them. They waded the last few feet in, earth- and waterbending the sludge off their feet as applicable, Daichi cleaning off Ryuu’s with a wave. Snowflake put her nose to the ground as soon as Daichi let her down, taking off through the rushes upstream. Issei signaled Daichi and Ryuu to follow, sending Takahiro and the waterbenders downstream. Daichi thanked his past self for learning Seijoh’s nonverbal scouting language back in the mountains as he followed her white streak, crouched below the shoulder-high tops of the reeds.

She paused at an opening in the reeds from the bank, pawing at a boat that matched the lifeboats in the storage bay. Ryuu cursed under his breath as she hopped in to sniff around. Issei cat-owl hooted the call in, approaching the boat without a sound – if Daichi closed his eyes, he wouldn’t know he was even there. Snowflake came back up with Tobio’s glove in her mouth and a soft whine.

“Good girl,” Issei breathed, scratching her ears. He took the glove from her teeth and stuck it in his belt, moving back so she could hop out as the rest of the search party collected behind them. He bent up a dry platform for them around the reeds, kneeling on it to draw in the earth with two fingers, furrows bending-deep. “Dai and I will take point with the pup,” he whispered. “Arrow form. We’re following the nose.” Everyone nodded. “Taka, Tanaka, you take rear guard. Hajime, you’re the treetops.” Hajime opened a hand as the other two nodded. “If he’s in sight of the Fire Nation, do not approach. If we’re seen, the whole op is blown.” He glanced down at Snowflake’s pale beacon. “Mud her up. Faces, too.” Everyone got to work camouflaging their paler pieces with river mud, slathering it on to blend in with the night. Daichi directed clumps of it along Snowflake’s white side – at least she liked being dirty.

When everyone was a uniform forest brown, Daichi clicked his tongue at Snowflake. “Tobio. Seek.” She chuffed and put her nose back to the ground, trotting off upstream with the humans falling into step behind.

Tobio’s trail followed the reed clutch to the edge, then turned off into the woods, scorch marks slicing off the heads of the cattails and drying the earth under their feet. When they turned inland, the party fanned out through the trees, Hajime leaping up to fox-squirrel jump between the branches above, checking locations with broken twigs and jay-whistles. The center path Issei and Daichi followed Snowflake down was burnt wide, scars of recent flames and broken bushes telling a story more vivid than any shadow-puppet fairytale. Daichi’s heart pounded in his head, sake still thrumming in his veins, too loud in the cicada silence of the pine and spruce forest, needles sinking under his feet with every step and rising up behind him. He couldn’t hear the rest of the party except for their natural language soundoffs, couldn’t see anything except when lightning flashed and threw the trees and Snowflake’s back in stark shadow. Static crawled up his skin, hair on his arms standing up, his own breath too hot on his chin in the thick air. Pre-storm wind rattled the trees, whipping Issei’s loose hair around enough that Daichi felt its ends sting his shoulder. Sometimes orange flashed through breaks in the trees, wind playing tricks with the sounds so the yells of the military types blew past Daichi even when they were out of sight.

He didn’t know how long they tracked behind Snowflake’s nose before Hajime dropped to the ground by Issei, scaring Daichi but Issei not even blinking. “There’s a clearing up ahead, ‘bout eighty yards,” he murmured. “Fire in it.” Issei nodded and gave a soft cat-owl hoot to the trees. Seijoh appeared, dark shapes creeping forward into distinctive sight. Issei hand signaled a cautious advance, the old stench of wildfire overlaying the pine and storm. Daichi clicked Snowflake back to heel, hand in her collar just in case. She was shivering against his fingers; he scratched her neck, but his hands were shaking just as bad.

Daichi saw the fire in the clearing before the people. They crept forward, low to the ground and slow, spreading to cover the whole side of the clearing. Snowflake belly-crawled beside Daichi, sliding up behind a juniper bush with Issei and Hajime as the yells and firebursts condensed into words.

“Atsumu!”

“Stay still, you little shit!”

Daichi peered through a break in the juniper. Two Fire Nation soldiers were attacking Tobio at once, trying and failing to corner him in the clearing. One of them threw a fireball with a breaking yell; Tobio redirected it around him, smooth as any waterbender, towards the others, arms spinning to disperse their attack from behind. A lightning flash showed him in an instant of stark relief – ponytails singed to stubs, face drawn, eyes bright.

“Oh shit,” Issei breathed, “Oh shit.”

Both soldiers attacked him from their opposite sides, but he caught the fire in a circle and funneled it up to the sky, pushing it out to drive them away. One stumbled back, but the other stuck his hands in to part it, embers flying into the trees. The fire cyclone vanished with a snap, Tobio punching out a fireball in a horse stance at the approaching soldier, jumping right into a spinkick to slash down behind. He tried to break for the trees – towards the Seijoh line, where Ryuu and Akira crouched – but one of the soldiers pulled a knife from his sleeve and threw it, thunking deep in Tobio’s shoulder. He cried out, stumbling forward to one knee – made to push himself back up –

But the soldiers got there first, one grabbing his unknifed arm. The other crouched before him to grab his chin, making Tobio look them in the face. “Oh, I’ll remember you,” the soldier hissed through his skull mask. Tobio didn’t respond, panting, sweating buckets. The helmet looked up to the other. “What do you think? We take him back to base or kill him now?” Issei grabbed Daichi’s arm before he could jump. “He’s been such a shit.”

The standing one slid his mask out of his helmet, long face severe. Tobio hissed as the grip on his arm tightened. The crouching one slid his mask off as well, but his back was turned to Daichi so he couldn’t see the face beneath. “You’re right, we can’t do that,” he said with a sigh. “He has to lead us back to his nest.” He yanked Tobio’s head down to sniff him. “You smell like the Nekoma.”

“I smell like – burnt hair,” Tobio gasped.

“Smart mouth, huh? I like that.” Tobio took in a breath and exhaled fire in the soldier’s face. It was mostly smoke, but they still jerked back with a cough, letting Tobio’s chin go to fan it away. “Why you little-”

Tobio used the leverage of his held arm to kick out his opposite leg, catching the grass beneath them on fire. He rolled away, breaking from both their holds, knifed arm caving but still jerking to get away, get away. He stumbled for the treeline again, slapping fire behind him in an arc. He gripped his bad shoulder, blood staining his whole right side a bad red when the fire and lightning showed color, face washed pale. Issei whistled – right – a jay-whistle, the ready call. Daichi buried a hand in the earth-

“Now what’s this?” The fire in the clearing sucked away to a point – Kuroo. One of the soldiers grabbed Tobio’s arm again – the bloody one. He cried out in a wet gurgle as Fire Nation armor appeared behind Kuroo from the woods, Tooru and Kai his direct flanks. “Don’t tell me this whole affair was about some kid,” Kuroo continued, tone airy but eyes hard. Daichi swallowed.

“Captain!” The talkative soldier snapped to attention. “We found him skulking along the riverbank and he wouldn’t halt for questioning.” He stepped up to square off with Kuroo. “He’s not one of yours, is he?”

Kuroo slid his eyes to Tobio, panting and thorn-scratched, dripping sweat and blood on the smoking grass. “No,” he lied as easy as breathing. “I’ve never seen him before in my life.”

“Can I kill him?” Tooru asked, eyes circles, white mouth visible even in the low light. “Please?”

“No.” Kuroo clicked his tongue and gestured at Kai, who stepped forward to take Tobio from the silent soldier, gentler but not soft. “Go back with the rest of the party and report, Miya, Miya,” he snapped, cold eyes flashing.

The talkative one gasped. “But, sir-”

“That’s an order.” He smiled, a slice of a smirk. “You’ve done quite enough tonight, Sergeant, Lieutenant.”

“But we have to take him back to base!” the talkative one said, stepping towards Kuroo with his hands spread at his sides. “We have to find where he came from and burn it out!”

“Does he look like he has a place where he came from?” Kuroo bit, gesturing at Tobio’s dirty, slouched-over form. “No one will miss him.” Cold washed down Daichi’s back. “You must be new out here, Lieutenant,” he said. “We don’t have the luxury of questioning on the Tranq.” His eyes narrowed. “Thank you for taking care of him so far,” he said, as sugary as any of Tooru’s business deals. “But I’ll take it from here.” He stepped up to bump toes with the talkative one – a lieutenant, ponytail whipping in the wind making him seem taller than he was. “Unless you want me telling the commander about this?”

They stared off for too long, nose to nose, hair and clothes snagged in the wind and electricity crackling. The lieutenant shoved two fingers into Kuroo’s chestplate. “I want my knife back.”

Kuroo slice-smiled. “Of course.” He walked past the lieutenant to where Kai and Tobio were, braced one hand on Tobio’s shoulder, and yanked it out, teeth bared. Tobio screamed, only held up by Kai, who jumped to support the sudden weight. Kuroo knelt to wipe it clean on an uncharred patch of grass, then walked back to the lieutenant and held it out, pommel-first. “You’re dismissed, Lieutenant.” The lieutenant’s nostrils flared, but his partner – they had similar faces, maybe they were brothers – grabbed his arm, staring him down until he backed off, still glaring at Kuroo until he turned away in the direction of the fort.

The handful of fort soldiers Kuroo had brought along in his search party followed suit after some glares and hand gestures from Kuroo, some more reluctant than others. Tooru stayed, fists at his sides as he stared at a wheezing Tobio, slack against Kai who was only barely pretending he didn’t know Tobio. Kuroo watched the last fort soldier vanish in the woods, arms crossed and jaw set, before spinning on his heel to cross back to Kai and Tobio, pulling out his own beltknife as he walked. Tobio flinched away, but Kuroo just sawed off his red sleeve to wad it up and press it to the open wound, ripping off the bottom strip of Tobio’s tunic to tie it on. “Make sure no one doubles back to witness,” Kuroo told Kai. Kai scowled – the strongest negative emotion Daichi had ever seen him express – but Kuroo didn’t look for an argument. “Oikawa.” Tooru jumped and darted over to hold Tobio up in Kai’s stead as he stomped off to follow the army home.

Snowflake had been tugging on Daichi’s arm the entire firefight and following confrontation, a background sense underlying the drama unfolding through the juniper branches. She broke away now, running across the clearing to sniff and whine over Tobio as he was lowered to his knees, getting blood in her mud-caked fur. Tobio was too dazed to notice, but both Tooru and Kuroo started. Tooru just blinked at her, but Kuroo sighed and looked to the clouds. “Come out.”

Daichi glanced at Issei, who nodded, pigeon-cooing the all clear. Daichi ran to Tobio’s side, kneeling opposite Tooru to apply pressure and slow the bleeding. “Dai?” Tooru breathed, eyes wide in the dark.

“Ukai noticed he was missing,” Daichi growled, not looking at Kuroo but at Tobio. His face was covered in red stripes – the marks of a run through a pine forest – and he did smell like burnt hair. And fear. “Snow followed him.”

“Pup’s too smart for her own good.” Daichi snapped a glare at Kuroo, who glared right back. “I’m going to burn something and bring it back as proof so they might leave my ass alone,” he snarled. “Get this out of my sight. And tell Yaku to prepare for inspection.” He snapped at Tooru, “You. You’re coming with me, unless you want to be what I burn instead of him.”

Tooru huffed, teeth bared, eyes white-rimmed, but Hajime knelt beside him and laid a hand on his arm. Tooru whipped around at the touch, chin banging the high collar of his armor, their noses brushing. Hajime nodded, barely, hand sliding down Tooru’s arm to take its place around Tobio. Tooru slipped away and stood, glancing around as Seijoh appeared at the edge of the trees, not quite stepping out into the open. He breathed hard, shoulders’ rise and fall visible even with the armor. “Good work,” was all he said, but Daichi’s heart swelled anyway, Hajime’s breath catching. Issei raised a hand in a casual salute. Tooru nodded once and spun to follow Kuroo, wandering off into the woods, crash of brush and gold highlights vanishing in the night.

Daichi and Hajime looked at Tobio between them, listless and pale. It was impossible to tell if he had bled through his makeshift bandage yet, but either way he had lost too much and needed to get to a healer now. “Let’s take him back,” Daichi said. Hajime nodded, and they stood together, Hajime supporting most of the weight on Tobio’s good side. They limped back downhill, Issei and Snowflake leading the way, Seijoh spreading out to cover their flanks.

They got back to the river at false dawn. Tobio had passed out after just a few trees, so they alternated carrying him on their backs down the slope, the trip back just as nervewracking as the trip up. The boat was still where Tobio had hidden it, so Hajime and Daichi laid him in it, Snowflake and Ryuu following. Yuutarou drove in the back, swinging out wide into the river to stay out of the fort’s light. Akira took Takahiro and Issei ahead to knock on Mori’s porthole in advance. They were waiting when the boat got there, Mori’s face dark-circled and shadowed. Hajime and Takahiro got Tobio’s limp body inside as Daichi told Mori, “We need Kenma.” Mori nodded, lip in his teeth. “And Kuroo said to prep for inspection.”

Mori cursed. “Of course he did.” He caught Yuutarou before he could be the last to climb in. “Hey, waterboy,” he said, “can you put the boat back?” He pointed up and towards the bow. Yuutarou leaned back to follow his direction outside the ship, then nodded and jumped back in the boat, river lifting beneath it to bring it back to the lifeboat storage. “Useful buggers,” Mori said as he stepped back and hauled the porthole closed. “Everyone needs to get in the visitor cabin, now,” he snapped, striding past them with his short legs to lead the way. “I’ve got to lock you up for real until this whole disaster’s blown over, so get ready for it.”

“I’m going with Tobio,” Daichi said, “and you should send Ukai down, too.”

“Fine. Fine!’ He threw a hand down the berth towards the bow. “Just get.” They got, scurrying towards Tooru’s suite, Daichi taking Tobio from a wild-eyed Hajime.

“What’s Kenma?” he asked, but Daichi shook his head as he got Tobio situated.

“No time. Go with the others.” Hajime’s jaw clenched. “I’ll explain later, if I can. But we need someone up there to field questions about this.” He tapped the head lolling on his should with his chin. “Otherwise – well, it’ll get messy no matter what, but at least it won’t be speculative.” He tried to smile, but the exhaustion killed it. Hajime sighed and dragged a hand down Daichi’s neck, leaving a different fire and lightning than the stormy night in its wake.

“I’ll see you in – when I see you, Dai. Take care of him.” Hajime trotted after the rest, clicking his tongue for Snowflake to follow and leaving Daichi with a dry mouth and dead weight. Mori huffed.

“C’mon, rockhead,” he grumbled, “let’s get the poor kid upstairs.”

Mori spotted their careful trip through the ship, his stream of worried curses a harmony with his screwdriver as he tripped the ship into lockdown. Doors that Daichi always thought looked funny disappeared behind sliding steel plates, unlit lanterns as levers as they made their way to Kenma’s suite. Daichi’s arms were killing him after hours of carting Tobio through the woods at night, but he was almost there…

Mori pushed ahead the last few feet to force Kenma’s door open without knocking, using his screwdriver to pop open a panel by the door and manually turn the lock mechanism. “So that’s how you do it,” Daichi mumbled.

“Trade secret,” Mori said as he slammed the panel back on with a wink. “Don’t tell that Kuroo bastard.” He cracked the door to poke his head in. “Kenma, dear? You awake?”

“I am now.” A soft groan. “Who died?”

“Well he’s not dead yet.” He pushed the door all the way open so Daichi could step in as the firebenders lit the wall lanterns, waking up a bleary-eyed Taketora from his couch nap. Kenma replaced their lap under Taketora’s head with a pillow so they could stand, tucking some hair behind their ear so half their face shone through as Mori fidgeted around Tobio. “I know it’s not your usual, but-”

“Bring him here.” They cleared off Sou’s corner futon, standing back as Mori helped Daichi lower Tobio to it, face-down. Kenma knelt in a billow of cloth and untied the bandage, peeling it away with a hiss. “Tora,” they said without looking up. Taketora moved to action without direction, fetching a beaten canvas bag from the bedroom and placing it by Kenma’s side, tying their two-toned hair back from their face before kneeling at Tobio’s other side. Mori and Daichi stepped back as they fell into a crane-dance, as practiced as battlefield surgeons. It was entrancing to Daichi’s tired eyes, dark red and maroon shot with herb green and flecks of gold.

Mori cleared his throat. “He’s in good hands now,” he said. “I’ll- finish locking up.”

“Yeah.” Daichi shook himself. “Right – get Ukai down here first. He’ll never forgive me otherwise.”

“Right. Right.” Mori fluttered a hand at nothing before he darted off, already yelling for Ukai to get his ass down here, you snake-haired snow-viper. Daichi collapsed on one of Kenma’s doughy armchairs, the two’s coordinated murmurs lulling his wiped mind to sleep in a heartbeat.

Chapter Text

Daichi woke up groggy, slow, and unhappy about… something. He groaned, world condensing around him – he was sitting up, a heavy blanket thrown across his lap. He blinked in the low red light as several voices muttered just past his current comprehension.

He rubbed at his tingling face – something on it flaked off into his lap. He blinked down at the brown flakes. Right. He had never washed off the mud disguise from the river, too occupied with Tobio to remember it was-

Tobio. He jerked up straight and looked to the corner futon. Kenma was still crouched there, steam rising from the poultice spread over Tobio’s bared shoulder. They were working on his hands now, covered in scratches and burns that they treated one by one. It was the first time Daichi had seen their whole face at once, their overgrown hair piled on top of their head in a massive two-toned bun. They didn’t look up at Daichi’s awakening, but said, “He’s stable. Barely.” They slathered more of the steaming green stuff on a cut slicing Tobio’s palm in half. “He would be better if I had taken the knife out.”

Daichi was awake enough to hear the implied question. “Kuroo,” he croaked on a dry throat. Kenma cut their eyes at Daichi. “He had to,” he coughed, pounding on his breastbone. “Saving face.” Kenma didn’t respond to that verbally, but Daichi still felt the need to run out of the boilhouse the room was becoming. “I’m not happy about it, either.”

“Hmph.” They turned back to their task, jaw set. Daichi stretched, sliding down in the overstuffed armchair, and glanced towards the window chatter with the motion, bending the dried mud off his skin and setting the ball of it aside to throw overboard later. The Yamamotos and Nekomata were talking to Ukai, who had his back turned and short dreads sticking up at odd angles. Daichi wasn’t quite awake enough to want to know what they were whispering about, so he curled up tighter in the armchair instead, eyes unfocusing as he watched the colors of Kenma pass over Tobio’s form.

He had never really seen Kenma in action. Most of the healing he had been witness to was internal or mental, just them and their patient motionless for stretches at a time. He had been under the impression that they were a different breed than the herbalists and field doctors he had known all his life and met on this trip, something strange and spiritual. However, watching them work now, the only differences he could tell between them and Shigeru were the noise level and the color palette. Something not-quite flames followed their hands, a simmering heat like cobblestones at midsummer, bitter smoke from crushed herbs filling this corner of the room. Daichi thought he recognized some of the leaves from his time in the Yahaba storeroom, but many were unfamiliar or striped in different colors. Shigeru should really be here…

He jerked awake – when had he dozed off? – when something slammed behind him. “What the fuck happened last night.” Daichi peered over the back of the chair at the door and Kuroo in it, radiating red – he was actually giving off heat. Mori was behind him, dark-eyed and lip bitten, but Daichi didn’t have time for nonverbal conversation before Kuroo honed in on him and stomped over, eyes wide, bootheel clicks sharp. “What did you do,” he hissed, hanging herbs smoking above him. Daichi gulped.

“Kuro.” Kuroo snapped his burning gaze off Daichi to Kenma’s soft voice. “Don’t yell.”

Kuroo let out a strangled cry. “Kenm-”

“Kuro.” They looked over their shoulder, giving off that same heat, a few strands of hair sticking to their face. The two of them glared over Daichi’s chair while he stayed very still and tried to ignore how he was sweating under the heavy wool blanket. Finally, Kuroo grunted and looked away, seeing the other people in the room for the first time. Nekomata cleared his throat.

“I assume your return means we’re cleared for departure?” he asked, white eyebrows raised into his forehead wrinkles. Kuroo’s lip curled.

“Not quite. The Miya twins raised hell on the hunch that I brought this-” He gestured at Tobio’s prone form- “to their turf. I managed to talk Commander Hibarida down-”

“Hibarida?” Everyone looked to Ukai, his eyes wide at his own outburst.

“Yes,” Kuroo drawled, eyes narrowed. “Do you know him, sir?” Ukai clapped his mouth closed, color high on his temples as he shook his head. “As I was saying,” Kuroo continued, still glaring at Ukai, “I talked him down to a casual inspection and another day in port, and I swear on the Lord and Lady, I’ll make Yaku weld this whole ship shut if anyone even breathes about going ashore.” He cut a smile at Nekomata. “Captain, if you would be so kind as to go with Yaku to relay the message upstairs.” Nekomata frowned, but eased himself off his stool by the window, groaning as his joints creaked.

“At least you know well enough that you’re not fit for polite company right now.” He breezed out, Mori still biting his lip by the door, but forced to follow at the last second, door clanging behind him. Kuroo crossed his arms and considered the group as a whole.

“Not that I really care,” Kuroo said, drumming his fingers on his forearm guard. “But does anyone know why the little shit was wandering in the woods at night? And why he can firebend?” Daichi winced; Akane and Taketora exchanged looks; Ukai paled. Kuroo took it all in and scowled at Daichi. “You’re not surprised,” he snapped. Daichi scratched his head.

“Uh- well. I kinda. Knew. The firebending part, at least.” He snuck a glance at Ukai. “I… I figured it out.”

“What the shit are y’all sayin’ here?” Taketora growled, leaning forward, hands gripping the edge of the stool between his knees. “The water princeling is a firebender? How?”

Daichi looked to Ukai, who had switched from pale to splotchy. “I don’t fully know,” he said, which wasn’t a total lie. “Except that he is.” He looked up at Kuroo still looming at his chair back. “I’ve no notion why he went ashore, though. I hadn’t spoken to him much in the last few days.”

Kuroo snorted, smoke coming out. “Somehow I doubt that.” He tapped Daichi’s scalp with his fist (only a little too hard). “The one thing I’ve learned is that it’s always your fault.” Daichi frowned, but Kuroo’s fire was already dimming to a simmer as his fist relaxed to an open hand, cupping the back of Daichi’s head as he frowned at the crowd by the window. “So we don’t know why I just had to grovel past sunrise and kill a porcupine-boar without getting to eat it?” The three of them shook their heads. Kuroo ground his teeth – whipped to glare at Kenma. “Kenma.” Kenma ignored him, too busy pulling threads from Tobio’s torn shirt out of the sticky mixture on his shoulder. “Kenma.”

“I’m not sure why you’re bothering to consult me now,” Kenma said, low and clipped, “when it didn’t seem relevant for me to be present when a knife was pulled from Tobio’s back.”

Kuroo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Kenma. Answer the question.”

Kenma didn’t respond until all of the threads were away from possible infection, then picked up a plant waiting by their knee and held it up behind their head. “Found this in his waistband.” It was bent and charred, hollow where it was broken – a young one of the reeds from the bank where the boat was found. “They’re a painkiller. Only grow in this part of the river.” He dropped it back on the futon. “I may have mentioned it.”

Kuroo drummed his fingers on Daichi’s head. “So it is your fault, then.”

“Wha- hey!” Daichi turned to argue, but Kuroo just sighed, hand slipping away.

“I want to know when he wakes up,” Kuroo said. “I need to hear it from the ostrich-horse’s mouth.” Kenma didn’t acknowledge it, but Kuroo didn’t wait for confirmation. “I have to go back ashore now, but I’ll make Yaku check every hour.” He pointed at Ukai. “You stay here.” Ukai nodded. The Yamamotos laid into him about how Tobio came to be, while Kenma gave Kuroo the hot-but-cold shoulder. Kuroo looked down at Daichi and jerked his head towards the bedroom door. “A word?” Daichi frowned, but nodded, unfolding from the chair and laying the blanket over the back, careful not to step on anything in the organized organic chaos that had sprung up around Kenma and Tobio in the morning as he followed Kuroo to the bedroom. He glanced around as they entered – he had never made it back here before. 

He barely got an impression of even more plush and clutter before the door closed behind him and Kuroo squared off in front of him, arms crossed over armor. “You’re not smoking anymore,” Daichi pointed out. Kuroo raised his visible eyebrow.

“Your powers of observation are uncanny.” Daichi scowled. Kuroo sighed, rubbing the back of his neck between his ponytail and armor. “Look,” he began – swallowed it. “I’m still pissed,” he said to the rug under their feet. “You and the water-fire kid just put everyone on this ship in danger, and I have to clean it up. I’m not happy.” He rolled a ring on his index finger around with his thumb – a good calming method, Daichi had already learned. It had a good texture, an interesting inlay – not the point. “But, all the same, I need to thank you and yours for being there, even if you shouldn’t have been.” He pulled the ring back and forth, bumping from knuckle to join. “It could have been even more of a disaster, but your team has proved on multiple occasions to be capable and reliable, especially when we need it.” He sighed. “Usually when we have guests, they’re not so– hands-on. It’s been an adjustment for me to understand that you don’t need a babysitter, but a partner.” He smiled, eyes soft through his hair. “Even if you are green.”

Daichi swallowed. “The boys were doing what they’re trained for. I just brought the dog.” Kuroo snorted – laughed. Daichi grinned. “That’s very nice of you to say,” he added now that his heart wasn’t in his throat, “but you should probably tell Tooru that instead of me. I don’t actually work with them, officially.”

Kuroo gave him a look, smile still lingering. “Maybe later. I think he’s still mad I didn’t let him kill Tobio when he had the chance.” His hand reached out – yanked back. “I need to get back ashore,” he said. “I only had an excuse for coordinating the supply drop, and it isn’t wise to leave your boy unattended for too long. Although he has been more of an asset than expected.” He huffed. “He’s a quick talker.”

Daichi smiled. “It’s the rabbit-parrot blood.” Kuroo grinned, teeth flashing – a strike of a memory, his teeth clenched as he yanked a knife out of a screaming Tobio’s back. Kuroo’s eyes flashed as his smile fell.

“I know it won’t mean much,” he said in a quiet rumble, “but I promise, I’ll apologize to the kid later.” He didn’t touch Daichi, but he still felt the shadow of his knuckles drag down his cheek. Daichi just nodded.

“See that you do.” They held eye contact for a few breaths, Daichi’s skin itching but not enough to send him forward. “You should probably go back to saving our lives,” he said, feet frozen.

Kuroo smiled. “That’s a way to put it, I guess.” He stepped forward, right into Daichi’s space, hands resting on Daichi’s elbows. “Hopefully we’ll meet again later, under better circumstances,” he purred, smirking down at Daichi. Daichi rolled his eyes and clapped his hand on the back of Kuroo’s head to drag him down for a kiss, quick and hard, smacking away so he could watch the stars melt from Kuroo’s eyes.

“Be careful, jackass,” Daichi said, tugging on the babyhairs at his nape. “Don’t want to have to make Nekomata do his job too much.” Kuroo’s hand on his raised elbow squeezed, face softening.

“Of course.” He pressed his mouth to Daichi’s temple, then stepped around him, fingers trailing around Daichi’s body until the last second. The door opened, and Daichi jumped and spun to leave before people thought things.

Kuroo was already picking his way through Kenma’s front room when Daichi closed the bedroom again, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll send Yaku back down to lock up in a minute.”

“Kuro.” Kuroo paused at Kenma’s soft voice and turned, head tilting. A fire dart shot out and burnt off a clean finger length of Kuroo’s hanging ponytail before Kuroo yelped and put it out. “Now get stabbed and we’re even,” Kenma said, brushing the burnt ends of Tobio’s loose hair to the side along the pillow. Kuroo gasped.

“I didn’t do tha-! You know what? Fine.” He held his ponytail forward so he could squint at the damage. “Nice work,” he mumbled. Kenma flashed a rude gesture behind their back. Kuroo chuckled. “Take care, children,” he said, throwing Daichi a final wink before ducking out the door, closing it behind him.

“I’m gonna kill that guy one day,” Taketora growled.

“Not if I get there first,” Daichi said at the same time Kenma added, “No, me.” They all looked at each other and laughed.

“I could really use some tea,” Daichi sighed. Akane got up to fix it, her pleasant chatter melting the tense atmosphere as Kuroo’s boot heels clacked away.

The day passed quietly, no one willing to break the peace restored after Kuroo’s exit. Kenma continued to fuss over Tobio, examining him from crown to toe twice before Akane stepped in to make them sleep and clean up, Taketora dragging them bodily to bed and locking the door behind them.

“They’re an interesting pair,” Ukai said to his tea from where he and Daichi were sitting by the window. Daichi looked away from watching Akane clean up the leaf litter mess around Tobio. “I’m almost impressed they’ve kept this little place a secret for so long.”

Daichi winced. “I’m sorry I never told you where Tobio was disappearing off to,” he said, scratching his dirty head. “I would have, but…”

Ukai raised a hand. “Calm down, Nekomata already laid it out for me. It’s not your fault.” He cut blue eyes at Daichi with a little glint. “Still, a warning wouldn’t’ve been too much. A hint, maybe.”

Daichi smiled. “Now you know that’s against the rules.”

“So, Sawamura.” Ukai turned on his stool to face Daichi head on, nothing around him smoking but presence electric all the same. “How was he?”

Daichi blinked. “Pardon?”

Ukai sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “I’ve tried to do right by him, training him to control it, letting him have a place where he can be himself, but…” He sipped his tea. “At the end of the day, I’m just a waterbender. I don’t know shit about firebending.” He looked out the window. “I don’t… I don’t want to know what happened, not in detail.” His foot twitched, jostling the teacup on his leg. He ignored the spills. “But, was he prepared? Was he ready?”

Daichi stared into his tea leaves. Kuroo had tried to read them once, weeks ago, said his mother was a fortuneteller, but all he got was mush. “I didn’t see much,” he said at last, “just a bit, at the end. And it’s not like I have much experience with it.” He closed his eyes, flashes of flame whirlwinds and wild eyes flickering like heat lightning. “But I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Ukai let out his breath in a whoosh. “Good. That’s… good?” Daichi nodded.

“If I may.” Ukai hummed, and Daichi continued, “Don’t stop him from coming down here, now that you know. He’s been learning from Kenma, faster than I can keep up. It’s been good for him.”

Ukai smiled. “Thanks, but I wasn’t.” He groaned, resting his forehead on the window. “I always knew I’d have to let him be his own person eventually… just didn’t expect it like this.” He sighed, breath misting on the glass. Daichi let him contemplate the empty pier while he tried to read his tea leaves, see the animal shapes Kuroo had tried to point out over breakfast. Akane fidgeted over Tobio, straightening his hair and bedclothes before catching herself and moving on to straightening the cluttered room.

Daichi was about to get up and offer to help when Ukai let out a soft ‘hup’. He paused, glancing at Ukai, then at the direction of his gaze. A small clutch of Fire Nation armor was headed their way, Kuroo’s distinctive ponytail swinging at the front. An older man was at his side, salt-and-pepper goatee and temples the only thing visible at this distance. “Company,” Ukai muttered.

“Hope the boys upstairs notice,” Daichi said, a cold wave running through him. “I’d rather not test to see if Mori made these rooms soundproof right now.”

“I’m sure someone did.” Ukai scowled at the approaching crowd. Daichi frowned.

“You trying to figure out which one’s Hibarida?” Ukai jerked. Daichi hid an eyeroll behind a blink. “C’mon, I’m not deaf. We all saw how you jumped at the name like a spirit on your shoulder.”

Ukai swirled his cold tea around in his cup lifted it in a curl with his finger. “I never met the man,” he mumbled. “But Nava never let me forget his name.” He cut sharp eyes at Daichi. “Actually,” he snapped, “I don’t believe for a second that you just ‘figured out’ that Tobio is-” He swallowed. “Well.”

Daichi hesitated- oh, fuck it. “Tooru told me. A long time ago.” He stared at Ukai’s shock. “You can’t be surprised he knows. You know how smart he is.”

Ukai snorted. “Yeah, and he’ll die from that one day.” Daichi opened a hand.

“Still.” He answered the unasked question, “He only told me and Hajime, and we haven’t told anyone.” He huffed. “Well, I guess that’s a moot point now, but still.” The armored gang was filing past them to the gangplank of the dropped bow, Kuroo’s face almost distinct from here (Tooru’s indignation very distinct). He jerked his head out the window. “You really think that’s him?”

Ukai’s nose wrinkled. “Dunno. How many Hibaridas are there in the Fire Nation?” Daichi shrugged. “Nava’s only ever had good things to say about him, when she did. She hasn’t in a long, long time.” He pulled at his dreads. “Augh, if only I could-” He growled. “I hate being stuck in here like – like arctic hens in a coop.”

“And you think I like it?” The processional was out of sight now, gone up to the main deck. Daichi hopped off the stool. “Maybe it’s better to have your decision made for you by circumstance,” he theorized with a shrug. “Then we don’t feel bad for doing nothing.”

Ukai scowled at him. “How old are you, Sawamura?”

Daichi blinked. “Twenty, give or take.” Ukai snorted.

“Do me a favor and stop growing up,” he said, holding out his cup. “And get me a refill while you’re at it.” Daichi grinned and took it.

It was frustrating, not being able to do anything while other people acted on your behalf. Daichi did eventually help Akane clean up, hand twitching for work by the time Mori snuck food in. They never heard a whisper of the ‘casual inspection’ at their door, either a testament to Mori’s improvements or to Kuroo’s sweet-talking, Daichi would never know. What he did know is that he and Akane ran out of dishes to wash well before nightfall. Tobio was still asleep, immobile from something Kenma had fed into his system, face-down and simmering. Daichi didn’t know how his wounds were doing, but if the noxious poultice was anything like the wrap that had been put on his burnt arm all those weeks ago, he would be fine when he woke up.

Daichi was able to use Kenma’s shower when Taketora let them out of the bedroom at nightfall, the new technology now as comforting as a sunset and much more efficient at cleaning than a dip in a stream. He was going to miss this when they left the Nekoma. Of course he had to get back in his gross clothes, since he wasn’t near his or Kuroo’s room, but it was a small sacrifice to make. He looked around Kenma’s bedroom as he redressed – even more a mess than the front room, less like it had spilled over into here but that this was the origin. The bed was a disaster of too many blankets and pillows, remnants of projects and teacups scattered like fallen leaves. A flame flickered in a niche in the opposite corner from the bathroom, trinkets and scraps of paper thrown around the cushion in front of it. Kenma’s suite always reminded him just how far away from home he had really gotten.

He sniffed his undershirt before he tugged it back on – ew. He didn’t even try with it and just shrugged on his old tunic bare, rough cotton unfamiliar after so many months without it directly on his skin. He picked at the hem – it was past starting to fray, yellow sunburst trim sun-faded and weak. He would have to get a new one made when he got home.

Commotion outside the cracked door drew his attention away from his old clothes. He slung his dirty undershirt around his neck and went to inspect it – maybe they were being let out early, or they were found out, or-

Everyone was crowded around the corner futon, kneeling as Tobio couched and groaned. Daichi hung back as Kenma waved heated hands over him. “Stay still,” they said. Tobio settled at their voice, sighing and deflating into the futon.

“How are you feeling?” Akane asked from his other side, petting his hair back from his face. He coughed again.

“Dry,” he choked out. Ukai cursed and pulled some water from the cistern across the room, holding out a glob for Tobio to sip. He reached up to hold it steady- winced. “Ow.”

“Try not to move that arm,” Kenma said, peeling the bandages around his shoulder. Tobio nodded and let himself be watered, eyes clenched closed. Kenma hummed, tilting his head at the dried green gunk. “On schedule,” they muttered. The wrapped it back up. “Should be mobile by tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Ukai hissed, earning glares from the Yamamotos. Ukai huffed. “What kinda magic’s in that stuff?”

Kenma stared at him, wavering heat feeding from their hands into the bandage. “Guess.” Ukai frowned, but streamed his water back to the cistern, only keeping a handful above his palm in case Tobio wanted it.

Tobio squinted up at his voice. “Uncle?”

“Yeah, yeah Toby, I’m here.” Ukai knelt by his head and out of Kenma’s way. “Doin’ alright there, kid?”

Tobio grunted. “No.” He stopped trying to sit up and flopped down on the futon, groaning into the pillow. Daichi hid a laugh behind a knuckle and a cough. Tobio mumbled something that got lost in turtle-duck down.

“You should go back to sleep,” Kenma said, resting a hand on the exposed back of Tobio’s neck. “It works faster when you’re asleep.” Tobio moaned as the hand started to simmer.

“Wait.” Kenma lifted their hand at Ukai’s tone. “Toby. I’m not mad.” He nudged Tobio’s head to face the side. “But what in the ocean and tides possessed you to sneak into the Fire Nation without telling anyone?”

His eyelashes fluttered – Kenma’s sleeping hand was already pulling him under. “She likes plants,” he breathed, sighing as his body relaxed. Kenma put their hand back down, pushing him the last bit over the edge, leaving Ukai stunned, the Yamamotos confused, and Daichi thinking. Kenma didn’t say a word.

Chapter Text

They left the fort at first light, steaming away under the watchful eyes of twin silhouettes at the end of the rickety pier. Soon after takeoff, Mori opened the door, releasing them from their very nice prison to the mess for a breakfast warmer than luke. Kenma stayed with Tobio, who was still flitting in and out of consciousness, but Daichi dragged Ukai away to eat and breathe air that was slightly fresher than a stillroom, the Yamamotos backing him up.

Seijoh was already in the mess when they arrived, loud and happy. Warmth flooded Daichi as they all cheered at his entry – even Akira. He pressed a hand to his heart. “It’s an honor to be back,” he said with a bow, straightening into a frontal attack. He fell back a step – on Ukai’s toes – as Tooru nuzzled into his neck, nearly lifting him off the ground in a bear hug.

“Oh, I missed you!” Daichi blinked at the cloud of cinnamon hair in his face before it shot back to glare at him – he had never really noticed that Tooru’s eyes were the exact color of his hair. “Never leave me that long again.”

Daichi chuckled, holding Tooru away by the waist. “It was barely three days, dear.”

Tooru scowled. “So?”

“Oi, back off the bossman,” Ryuu said, yanking Tooru away by the tunic so he could slide in his place, hooking an arm around Daichi’s neck and dragging him in the door and to his seat. He plopped Daichi down on the bench, Snowflake scrambling into his lap to drool on his face. “Stay,” Ryuu said, frowning over his point. Daichi held up his hands around Snowflake as he ran over to the rice pot – apparently he was the injured invalid, somehow.

Hajime sat down across from him as he wrestled Snowflake back down to the floor at his feet, Tooru bustling to transfer their half-eaten breakfasts to his table. “Hey there.” Hajime nudged Daichi’s foot under the table with his. Daichi snapped his foot away and tucked it under Snowflake’s flank. “Doin’ okay?”

Daichi nodded, scratching Snowflake’s head resting on his knee. “Fine, thanks for asking.” Ryuu came back and dropped a bowl of cabbage rice and a cup of his migraine tea in front of him – he hadn’t even told Ryuu why he drank that. “Oh, thank you.” He bumped Ryuu’s shoulder with his when he sat down next to him. “You know, I could have gotten that myself.”

“Yeah. I know.” He dug back into his half-eaten rice, ears pink. Daichi shook his head with a smile and picked up his chopsticks, looking up at Tooru and Hajime across from them.

“So? How was it?” They exchanged a look. Hajime shrugged and swallowed his mouthful.

“Could’ve been worse.” He jerked his head at the kids’ table, where Yuutarou and Akira were glowering at nothing while Sou and Yuki tried to perk them up. “Troublemakers took it pretty hard.”

Daichi hummed. “Want me to talk to them?” Tooru shook his head while Hajime shrugged.

“They’ll sort it out on their own,” Tooru said with a hand flap. “Best not to get involved in teen drama.” Ryuu snorted, and Tooru pouted. “What?”

Ryuu grinned, rice on his cheek. “Actin’ all high ‘n’ mighty when you’re twenty. It’s cute.”

Tooru puffed up. “You-!” Hajime grinned. “Actually, peabrain, my birthday is…” He trailed off as he counted in his head. “Oh no.” He grabbed Hajime’s shoulders, yanking him around to scream in his face, “I missed it! I missed my birthday!”

Hajime coughed and waved his hand in front of his face. “Calm down, it ain’t the end of the world, but your breath could cause it.” Tooru buried his face in Hajime’s shoulder, moaning and groaning. Hajime sighed and patted his head. “Do you want a birthday party, you big child?”

“Yes,” he whined. Hajime rolled his eyes. Tooru popped back up with a frown. “But not on this rust bucket,” he snapped. “We have to be on land.”

“That’s fair.” He tucked some of Tooru’s hair behind his ear before his hand fell away. “We’ll have to get you clean and respectable by then, and out of that red.”

“Ugh, I should have changed as soon as I got back on this boat.” Tooru scowled down at his clothes, the underarmor of the Fire Nation armor. “This stuff’s ugly.” He wrinkled his nose at Hajime. “And what was that about me not being clean and respectable now?”

Hajime chuckled, running a hand over Tooru’s hair. “You’ve started to get shaggy again, love. Bush-like.” Tooru scowled.

“I kinda like it like that,” Daichi said with a shrug. They both looked across at him, separating from their inched-in inches apart. Daichi smiled around his rice. “Makes you look taller.”

“More intimida’in’,” Ryuu added, mouth full. “’ike a lion-lizard.” Hajime guffawed, pounding a ruffled Tooru on the back.

“Rude and disrespectful, all of you.” Ryuu and Daichi shrugged in unison. He wrinkled his nose. “Just for that, I’m throwing both of you a wild birthday party that’ll get half the party arrested,” he threatened. Ryuu pumped his fist.

“Yes! Bring some of those pretty city girls and you can arrest me all damn day!” Tooru mouthed a parody of Ryuu through a contorted face, then glared at Daichi, who waved his chopsticks in the air.

“Mine’s midwinter,” he said, “so good luck when we’re Ring-torn.”

Tooru frowned and pointed at him, leaning halfway across the table to get in Daichi’s space. “I’m gonna send you something so big Happy’s gonna have to cart it.”

“Threatening people with outrageous birthday presents is probably the most rich kid thing I’ve ever seen you do,” Hajime drawled, “and you have a solid gold tea stirrer.” Ryuu laughed, head thrown back and pounding on the table, while Tooru punched a smirking Hajime’s arm. Daichi chuckled.

“Jerk.” Tooru stuck his nose in the air. “See what presents you get from me next year if you’re gonna be that ungrateful.” Hajime rolled his eyes, rubbing his arm where Tooru had punched him. “I expect thought and care to go into anything for me as an apology.”

“Apology for what?” Daichi asked. “Not being a solid gold rich kid?” Tooru stuck his tongue out at him. “I’m sure we’ll find something fun to do when we get back on land,” Daichi said, “so make your list until then, dear.”

“I will.” Daichi grinned at him, Hajime snickering uncontrollably and Ryuu chortling into his rice. Tooru sat up straight and stuffed some cabbage into his mouth. “Anyway, you cretins.” They all laughed at him again. He showed them each the back of his hand, one by one, before losing some of the silliness and facing Daichi head-on. “How is he?”

Daichi hummed. “Alive.” He sipped his grass tea. “According to Ke-” His teeth clacked shut. “He should be up by this evening.” He glared at Tooru. “And you better be nice to him,” he warned. “He’s been through enough.”

Tooru flapped a hand. “Oh, I’ll-” Daichi growled, and Tooru started. “Dear! How animalistic of you!”

“You did ask if you could kill him,” Hajime said to his rice. “And you meant it.”

“Why, I-!” He snorted. “Fine. I’ll be… nice to him. Happy?” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at Kuroo, sitting with Nekomata in a back corner and going over paperwork. “And what about him? You gonna make him ‘be nice’ to the brat, too?”

“Yes. He’s already promised to apologize.” Tooru scowled, but didn’t press further.

“What was in that boy’s head, anyway?” Ryuu asked. Daichi stared into his tea leaves.

“He hasn’t been awake enough yet for the full story,” he said, “but from what I can tell, it was for a girl.” Ryuu blinked – sat back with a long ‘ah’. Daichi sipped his tea and looked around the mess, taking in the faces as his breakfast table had a brief moment of silence over that. All looked normal, so why was he feeling like something was missing…

There. Takahiro was sitting between Fukunaga and the wall, talking in sign too fast for Daichi’s barely literate brain to comprehend, while Issei was all the way across the mess, sitting by himself in a moody sulk. Oh no. “Oh no,” he muttered. Ryuu hummed in question. Daichi gestured at Issei. “What happened with them?”

Ryuu followed his gesture and shrugged. “They’ve been weird since we got back inside. Didn’t ask why. Why?”

Daichi groaned, pressing the rough clay of his teacup to his temple. “Earth and fire.”

“What’s up?” Hajime asked. Daichi opened his eyes to Hajime’s steady gaze – looked away.

“Taka and Issei.” He groaned. “I thought not having girls around meant less personal drama to deal with.”

Tooru snorted. “Oh, you sweet, naïve boy,” he crooned, tipping back the last of his tea.

Hajime shrugged, swirling his rice around. “If they can’t handle a little sucking face in a friendship-” Tooru choked on his tea, hacking and coughing. Hajime pounded his back. “Easy there, love.”

Tooru sucked in a breath. “They did what?”

“I don’t know the details,” Hajime snapped back. “Daichi and I left them well enough alone like normal people.”

“I left them well enough alone,” Daichi said. “You passed out.”

Hajime waved a hand in a very Tooru gesture. “Details.”

“I had to go back and cut ‘em off for the search, though.” Daichi sighed, rubbing his back of his neck. “Damn.”

“Don’t y’all have some rule against insider dating, anyway?” Ryuu asked Tooru, who winced.

“It’s more of a – custom, than a rule.” He frowned at the wall behind Daichi’s head, swishing a thought around between his teeth. “And it might be seen as hypocritical, to punish an employee for something I…” He cleared his throat, Hajime turning red and scooting away so there was space between them. “Anyway. I’ll give them some time to sort it out, then if they don’t…” He smiled at Daichi. “I’ll send my professional shoulder to cry on after them.”

Daichi smiled back at him. “Fuck you.” Ryuu cackled.

The Nekoma was far enough away from prying Inarizaki eyes by the time breakfast was over for Kuroo to release them to the deck. Most ran for fresh air, crew and crew alike, Snowflake’s bark breaking up the midmorning mist, fog burning away to a sweltering partly-cloudy day. Daichi put on Snowflake’s paw-protector leather shoes that Yuki had sewn for her so she could run on the dark metal without a care, chasing Ryuu and Sou around and snapping at dragonflies. Daichi sat on a crate on the port side and watched the shore go by, not really thinking about anything. It was nice.

Something entered his field of vision down the line of the ship’s berth. Issei took his spot near the bow, scowling at the shore and lighting all the matches in a blue packet, flicking them into the river, where they blew out on the way down. Daichi checked the deck – Takahiro was nowhere in sight. Daichi sighed and got off his crate to meander to Issei’s side, sliding in and watching his bony hands work without a word.

“I’m not interested in a sermon,” Issei growled, snapping a match end off as he tried to strike it against the side of the ship.

Daichi sighed again, louder this time. “Who said I was gonna give one?”

“I know this isn’t how I ‘should’ act,” Issei continued without hearing Daichi. “Running away from shit isn’t what we’re supposed to do as earthbenders.” He dug around in the dyed sealskin for a match, supply dwindled. “But maybe I was never really much of an earthbender to start with.”

“Oh, I think you’re plenty earthbender.” He rapped on the side of Issei’s head with his fist, Issei jerking away and biting down a smile. “Rockhead.”

“Dumbass.” He shook the bag around, wooden clacks muffled by leather. The traces of a smile fell, Issei staring down at the distant water. “I’m glad you interrupted us,” he mumbled. “We were close to… a point. But we stopped. We can still go back, now.”

“Why would you want to?” Daichi held up a hand as Issei’s eyes cut through him. “Honest question. Is there anything wrong with Taka?”

Issei snorted. “There’s nothing wrong with Taka. That’s kind of the problem.” He ran a hand through his hair, pulling more of it loose from its low bun. “He’s… important to me. Vital. I can’t fuck that up by sleeping with him.”

“And why would you do that?” Daichi nudged his shoulder. “You didn’t fuck us up by us sleeping together.”

“That’s because you’re you. You wouldn’t let me.” Issei slumped on the ledge, long body ungraceful for the first time since Daichi met him. “Everyone else I sleep with realizes it’s a bad move and moves on to better ones real fast,” he grumbled, almost too low for Daichi to hear. “I can’t… I wouldn’t last long if…”

“Have you talked to him about this?” Daichi asked when Issei trailed off into gloomy silence.

“Not everything gets fixed by a damn interview,” Issei snapped. “If we talk about… this, we can’t unsay anything.” He pressed his forehead to his crossed wrists. “M’scared.”

“I reckon he is, too.” He patted Issei’s shoulder. “Ain’t it better to be scared together?”

“Who hired you to play matchmaker,” Issei growled.

“No one. I just know you’re not gonna get anything out of this by doing nothing.”

Issei pulled a final fistful of matches out of the bag and lit them all at once, watching them burn down to his hand. “You’d think by now I’d be used to risk in my life.” He blew this out with one big breath, smoke curling along the Nekoma’s path. “But it’s never been like this.” He uncurled his fist, finger by finger, wooden sticks clattering down iron. “I think I love him,” he mumbled, lips barely moving, Daichi only hearing on the downwind. He smiled.

“That’s a start.”

Tobio was released from Kenma’s clutches just before dinner. He was in the mess when everyone filtered in before the late summer sunset, raucous hallway conversations tapering off into an awkward silence, moving around his hunched shoulders like a rock in the river. Daichi wanted to talk to him, but Tooru had his arm in his clutches, still clingy even after a day spent off-and-on together. Instead of testing Tooru’s promise to be nice so soon, he followed Tooru’s lead to their usual table, waiting on the quiet horde to descend on tonight’s offering before taking their share.

“Poor shit,” Tooru muttered as they sat, practically bouncing on the bench. “He looks downright miserable.”

“Don’t sound so put out by it,” Daichi muttered back, sneaking a glance at Tobio, Ukai fretting at his side. Tooru wasn’t wrong. Tobio’s already long face was drawn and pale, the burnt-off ends of his old pigtails, all three of which used to go past his elbows, now barely brushing his shoulders. Someone should have tied them back different, or at least trimmed off the burnt ends, but Daichi had learned that Tobio was particular about who touched his hair and why. Ukai was trying to get him to eat, but even the small journey from Kenma’s suite to the mess seemed to have drained him. “At least he’s up and moving,” Daichi said.

Tooru snorted. “For real. What’d they do to him, put him in some magic fire cocoon or something?” He drummed his fingers on the table, hand on his cheek almost obscuring his sly look Daichi’s way. “Or something?”

“Or something.”

Tooru huffed. “Oh, honestly. Who do I have to pay to tell me anything on this floating garbage barge?” He slid off the end of the bench to stand, but instead of going to the food line, he crossed to Tobio and perched on the edge of the table by his elbow, arms crossed until Tobio looked up with hollow eyes. Daichi could feel the Tooru eyeroll from here. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, brat.” Daichi glanced around – every eye in the mess was fixed on them now. “What, you think I’m gonna be worse to you now? Dream on.”

Tobio’s throat worked. “So you don’t hate me for being a firebender?”

“Oh, I hate you all right, for a list of reasons, but because you’re a firebender ain’t on the list. It’s like hating Snow the pup-monster for being a pup-monster.” He glared back at his audience, causing more than the teal tunics to jump. “And any one of my boys who try to do anything can swim home,” he snapped in the bowstring silence. “We clear?” More than five heads nodded back. Tooru whipped back to Tobio, who jumped shock-straight in his seat. “However, no one travelling with me is going to look anything less than presentable.” He gestured at Tobio’s… everything. “After you eat, Matsukawa’s going to have a long-needed rendezvous with your hair while we find you something to wear that’s not so… bloody.”

Tobio bit his lips into a thin line. “Do I have to?”

“Yes,” said multiple voices at once. Tobio’s eyes flitted over them, something like humor flashing in them. “Please,” Ukai added. Tobio nodded, shaking his now-loose hair in front of his face.

Across the mess, Yuutarou raised his hand, jaw set and eyebrows furrowed. Tooru nodded and gestured his way. “How polite. Yes, Kindaichi?”

“I wanna fight him. For real. Bender on bender. Morning drill.” His cheeks flushed. “When his arm’s better, of course.”

Tooru grinned. “That sounds like a wonderful idea.” Everyone else clamored to add their name to that list, wanting to test their skills against his ‘whatever-the-fuck-that-was’ firebending style, as Ryuu called it. Tobio shrank a little behind Tooru’s knees at the attention, face dark pink. Tooru clapped his shoulder and stood, putting him out in the open as he sauntered over to get dinner, whistling.

“Someone looks real damn pleased with themselves.”

Daichi looked up from the keg he was trying to drain at Kuroo leaning on the top of it. Daichi shrugged with a grin. “Can’t help it if I love it when a plan comes together.” He gave up on getting more than foam and took a lean behind it, watching the evening dance party with his arm pressed against Kuroo’s. It was a few days after their departure from the fort; Kuroo’s charts up in the helm showed they were under a week out from the mouth of the River Tranquil.

Tobio was back on his feet and arms again, trying his best as everyone on board tried their best to include him and wrangle demonstrations of his strange, piecemeal but brutally effective bending style out of him, even when he could barely move one of his arms. The events in the woods had cracked something in him, something that made him flinch more at raised hands and unexpected fire, but laugh more with too much teeth and spit. He still wouldn’t talk about it with anyone but Kenma, but Sou tried with puppy tricks and snacks, and Daichi made himself available if he was needed. He would figure it out, in his own time, and he had people behind him to push him on.

It had taken a little more coaxing from all fronts for Takahiro and Issei to finally sit down and talk. Daichi didn’t know what they said or did in their locked-room heart to heart, but they came out the next morning happy, tentative, not touching as much as they used to but brushes lingering when they did. They were dancing now, yelling along with Kai’s rowdy party jig as they twirled and clapped in an old dance even Daichi knew that didn’t seem to have elemental borders, oil barrel firelight flickering over flushed grins and sweaty hair. Takahiro caught Issei’s waist and cinched him close for a count, running his nose up the line of his cheek before spinning away again, Issei stumbling through the next few steps.

“How saccharine.” Daichi shot Kuroo a withering look.

“I’m gonna use that dictionary I’m buying to slap Tooru with to slap you one day,” he grumbled, tipping his mug back to see if any of his beer froth had turned back to beer. No luck. “Can’t you just be happy for people sometimes?”

“I will be when y’all get off my ship.” He leant harder on Daichi, straining and failing to rest his cheek on Daichi’s head. Daichi laughed as he pouted, moving his inside arm to hook around Kuroo’s so they met at the hip. Issei traded Takahiro for Tooru between songs, Takahiro spinning an unsuspecting Hajime under his arm to a yelp and a kick. “I will miss y’all, when you go,” Kuroo admitted to Daichi’s hair, nuzzling in. “And not just because of my bedwarmer.”

“Oh? Is that all I’m good for?”

“You’re a very good bedwarmer.” He laced together the fingers of their crossed arms, palm sweaty against Daichi’s. “Better than any firebender.”

“Y’know, if you think it’s too hot in your bed, you can always take off a blanket.”

Kuroo chuckled. “No, I like slow roasting with you. It makes me feel… delicious.” Daichi punched at him with his free hand, the sloppy hit skidding across his chest. “Now c’mon, I know you can do better than that,” Kuroo purred.

“Asshole.” Issei and Takahiro shoved Tooru and Hajime together on the partner-swap refrain, Takahiro cackling as the force of his twirl knocked Hajime’s face right into Tooru’s chest. Tooru stumbled before catching Hajime’s hand and leading him in the dance, both of them laughing and smiling while Issei and Takahiro high-fived on the other side of the fire. “Finally,” Daichi mumbled.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing.” Boot heels and Ryuu banging on a metal bucket made a beat to Kai’s erhu wailing, an instrumental this time, quick and heavy. Daichi tapped his toes with it as he watched Tooru and Hajime dip around each other, fire-bright, Tooru’s reappearing headband a spot of pale green in the night as its tails whipped after him, not doing much to keep his hair from his face. They clapped, stamped, caught raised forearms in a fast circle, toes crossing, noses brushing. Hajime laughed as they broke apart, a deep temple bell to Tooru’s chimes, as much the music as the erhu.

“They really are like children sometimes,” Kuroo murmured, warm and soft. “Puppy love.” Daichi hummed, squeezing Kuroo’s hand on the beat. The other dancers around the fire darted between Daichi and them, familiar faces blurring like smoke as Tooru bent and scooped up Hajime by the thighs, Hajime clutching Tooru’s head with a yelp as Tooru spun on his heel, still laughing, always laughing. “You wanna join them?” Kuroo asked.

Daichi sighed. “Not yet. It’s just nice to watch sometimes.”

Kuroo hummed the melody as Tooru lowered Hajime back to the deck, hands sliding up his body to hold his face still for a kiss. “Can’t argue with that. Wonder if I have the authority to arrest them for public indecency.”

“Be nice, Kuroo.” Ryuu whistled from his spot next to Kai, banging out the beat with an empty mug on his bucket seat. They broke their heated kiss, flushed and panting, still wrapped in each other, as people who weren’t too busy dancing applauded and cheered for more. Hajime buried his red face in Tooru’s tunic while Tooru laughed and waved like they were in a parade. “Get a room!” Daichi called, free hand cupped around his mouth.

“You first!” Tooru yelled back. Kuroo held the back of his free hand high. Tooru wasn’t letting Hajime go, arms wrapped tight around his chest even as Hajime tried to hide further, yanking Tooru’s popped-open tunic flap to shield his face from the majority of their audience.

Something two-toned and wild caught Daichi’s eye across the circle. Kenma’s silhouette skirted the firelight, drawn hood doing nothing to hide their fluttering yellow hair. They came up behind Tobio, who was sitting near the outside of the circle with his arms wrapped around his knees, just watching, and tapped him on the shoulder. Tobio looked – jumped. Daichi couldn’t hear over everyone still making fun of Tooru, making elaborate farewells as he was dragged away by a flame-faced Hajime, but Tobio nodded and wriggled his tunic off his right shoulder, letting Kenma get to the-

“Shit!” Kuroo yelped, starting towards them. Daichi held him still with his arm, clamping Kuroo’s to his side. “Let me go,” Kuroo snapped, eyes wide.

“No. Let them be.” Kenma peeled back the bandage as Tobio watched, blind to the focus of the party spreading out from a disappeared Tooru and Hajime, stalled song picking up into something new. “If he wants to join the party, then he should be allowed to.”

“Daichi,” Kuroo whined, but Daichi held firm, the pebbled bottom of his Water Tribe boots sticking to metal and grounding him against Kuroo’s struggles. “Why is everyone out to give me a heart attack?”

“Because it’s for you own good.” Kuroo sagged, collapsing on him. Sou noticed Kenma and cried out, running over to sit next to them and babble questions while everyone else stuttered to a halt, Nekoma faces wide-eyed and pale while Seijoh’s were just confused – for now. Kenma pretended not to notice the shift in atmosphere as they slung their beaten field bag onto their lap to dig for fresh herbs and bandages. “He sure knows how to make an entrance,” Daichi murmured.

“I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him, then I’ll kill him again.” The Nekoma crew kept glancing towards Kuroo and therefore Daichi, who shrugged with his free shoulder when Kuroo didn’t notice. “I swear I’ll kill him.”

Daichi squeezed their hands. “Don’t kill him. Tobio’s not better yet.” Kuroo growled.

“I’ll kill both of them and save you for last.” Daichi chuckled. “It’s not funny,” Kuroo hissed.

“It’s a little funny.” Daichi laid his free hand on Kuroo’s forearm. People were still just standing and staring, that familiar paralysis Daichi had come to associate with Kenma’s appearance. He bit his lip and waited.

Taketora stepped forward – hesitated – came to Kenma’s side, kneeling to help hold Tobio’s arm out and still as Kenma wrapped it back up through Tobio’s quiet gasps. Murmurs started with the tension cut, Seijoh looking to the Nekoma crew for answers while the sailors looked to Kuroo, who ground his teeth and strangled Daichi’s hand.

“You know what? Fine! Do whatever you want!” he cried, flinging his hands (and therefore Daichi’s) in the air. “C’mon, pup,” he growled, “I’m sick of this.” Daichi caught one last note of the jumbled-up party starting back up, Ryuu’s beat urging Kai’s erhu on, before the door slammed shut behind them. He smiled in the darkness.

Chapter Text

A week breezed by faster than Daichi could have thought possible. It seemed like an hour passed in every blink, lazy mornings in Kuroo’s red silk bed blending with rabbit-dog days steaming in the high summer humidity and evenings drinking and dancing on the deck. The troubles of the Tranquil had passed with the fort, only platypus-bears and cat-deer as witness to their passage.

Seijoh and the Nekoma were blood brothers now, the only distinction between the two crews eye color and accent. Seijoh never quite adjusted to the concept of Kenma, hidden beneath their feet for a full month without any clues, but they didn’t raise the Spirit World to understand. It had been a strange enough trip that this didn’t seem so out of place, after all. Kenma kept appearing out of nowhere to check on Tobio, and they grew to ignore it.

Daichi’s skin was as brown as it ever got, tanlines crossing over Kuroo’s late at night against deep red, laughter and dark hair clinging. Daichi stopped feeling the hunger to take Kuroo apart every single night, satisfied at times to listen to his heartbeat and tell stories about their childhoods, lives spent apart and so different, a farmboy and a fortuneteller’s son who enlisted young and only looked back once. Daichi traced the pale outline of the rings on Kuroo’s fingers and listened, warm and content – happy. He was happy here.

There was a Fire Navy checkpoint at the southern mouth of the river – technically the riverhead, but it was hard to conceptualize that with the spread of glittering blue water of Chameleon Bay that it opened up to. After the excitement of Inarizaki, this checkpoint was almost a letdown, just half a day of being locked in Tooru’s suite while soldiers did a quick inspection and Kuroo sweettalked the fleet commander over paperwork. They sailed on before dark, heading deeper into the bay, setting sun swinging behind them instead of off the starboard like it had been for weeks. Daichi frowned out the window. “Why aren’t we following the bank?” he asked.

“That’s a very good question, dear heart,” Tooru chirped from his side, hopping off his stool and setting his empty teacup aside. He smiled, eyes sharp. “Would you like to come with me to find out?”

Tooru didn’t quite storm out the second Mori came to open the door and run through the ship and up the endless stairs to the helm, but Daichi was still breathless when they reached the top, a few steps behind as Tooru shone his brightest smile and said, “I’m sure there’s a lovely explanation for why we’re sailing into the middle of the ocean!”

Kuroo glanced up from the chart/pai sho table, eyes red and ringed. “Yes, princess, there is.” He covered a yawn with the back of his hand as he tapped a stack of reports scattered between him and Nekomata. “Apparently our earthly friends have reinforced the shore around out landing point,” he said through the tail of his yawn. Daichi glanced around – they usually kept a teapot in a corner up here – there. He crossed to it and poured a cup, not worrying that it wasn’t quite warm. “As beautiful as the Nekoma is, they’ll spot her glory from klicks away.” Daichi came back and set the cup in front of him. Kuroo glanced his way, armor sagging with his shoulder drop, smile crinkling his eyes. “Thank you, dear.” Daichi heard Tooru’s sharp inhale behind him, but Kuroo pressed on, lifting the cup to blow steam in it with closed eyes. “We’ve got some friends out in the bay who’ll loan us a less conspicuous maiden for the voyage and harbor our beauty until we return to friendlier waters.” He took a sip and sighed. Daichi popped open a folding chair from beside the table and shoved him in it, kneeling to unstrap his body armor and get him out of the heavy enamel.

“Oh yeah? What kind of friends?” Tooru bit, propping on the edge of the table to pout at Kuroo. Daichi glared over his shoulder at him, but Tooru ignored it.

Kuroo rolled his eyes, setting his tea down so he could lift off the top shoulder plate and give Daichi more room to unstrap the arm and chest pieces. “Calm down, you’re not in danger. We stumbled on their island in a storm a few years ago, and they harbor us in exchange for supplies and news. Pretty straightforward. Should only be an extra day on the schedule.”

Suspicion still rolled off Tooru in waves. Daichi tucked the removed armor pieces under Kuroo’s shoulder guard on the floor and stood, rubbing the heels of his hands into Kuroo’s shoulders to a long sigh from below. Tooru scowled at both of them. “There’s something you’re leaving out,” he growled over a point. He moved the point to Nekomata. “Captain, tell me what he’s not telling me.”

Nekomata chuckled. “They’re squatters,” he said, straightening out the reports spread on the table. “A mix of Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom citizens who found a place where the tax men can’t get them.” He smiled. “They’re quite harmless if you’re not a tax man, I assure you.”

Tooru snorted, papers between his hands rustling. “Fine.” He stuck his nose in the air. “At least this is the last stop before we can leave this heap behind.” Daichi shoved his thumb into Kuroo’s tendon hard to keep him down, but Nekomata just laughed. Tooru waved at Daichi. “Come on, dear, it’s time to leave these fire demons to their demoning.”

Daichi paused in his shoulder massage, eyes narrowing. Tooru glared back, nostrils flaring. “Really.”

Kuroo reached up and laid a hand over one of Daichi’s. “It’s fine, humor the precious princess.” He turned his head and lifted Daichi’s hand to kiss his palm. “I’ll see you later, after all. Dear.”

Daichi rolled his eyes. “Children.” But he left Kuroo’s side with a final squeeze to the back of his neck, following the bounce of Tooru’s hair down the steps, listening to Tooru rant about him all the way back down.

The Nekoma sailed through the night, the rumble of their stop in the early morning half-waking Daichi as Kuroo slipped out of bed to deal with it. He was back in the real morning – he never let Daichi wake up alone, said it would be a crime in both their countries. Daichi yawned and reached for him, curling into his side where he sat on the edge of the bed. “We here?” he asked, eyes still closed as he rubbed his cheek into Kuroo’s hip.

“We are. Don’t worry, they wake up late, we have a few hours.” Fingers ran through Daichi’s hair. Daichi sighed and leant into it. “We’ve got time for another go, if you wanna get up right,” Kuroo purred. Daichi flapped a hand, letting it fall heavy across Kuroo’s legs.

“N’a min. Lemme wake up first.” Kuroo chuckled, scratching down Daichi’s scalp to his neck. “Gonna miss this,” he mumbled.

“Me too, sugarplum.” He lifted Daichi’s chin, waiting until his eyes fluttered open to smile and say, “So let’s make the most of the time we have, hmm?” Daichi grinned.

A few hours later, Kuroo led them down the front ramp of the Nekoma straight into a paradise. The long dock made of multiple kinds of wood extended over aquamarine water and white sand, so clear that Daichi thought he could touch the fish swimming ten feet below. Akira dove in before he was even halfway down the ramp, water opening so he only made a drop of a splash, his shadow darting away to inspect the reef. They were all used to his amphibious nature by now, but the couple waiting on the dock ran to the edge to watch with wide eyes.

“Is he gonna be okay?” the lady asked. Kuroo shrugged.

“Probably. He’s got more fish blood than human in him.” Kuroo waved Tooru forward. “This one here’s the one to worry about. Oikawa, meet Daishou and Mika Suguru.” Tooru glared at Kuroo as he passed to greet the Sugurus with a smile and a bow.

“It’s lovely to meet you,” he said, taking the lady’s hand to kiss the back. She giggled, her husband cinching her close at the waist. Tooru winked up at both of them. “Thank you for harboring us poor wayward souls.”

She drew her hand away and pinched his cheek, making him squeak and jump back straight. “Oh, Tetsu, you didn’t tell me you had a charmer on board!”

Daichi frowned – who was Tetsu? – but Kuroo sighed and put his hands on his hips. “It comes and goes.” Kuroo – Tetsu? – tilted his head at them. “Is it just you two right now?”

The husband smiled, a flash of Kuroo’s (Tetsu’s) smirk buried in there. “For the moment. Everyone else is in the back.” He waved his free hand at the looming black cliff that made up their island. A few human structures clung around the shallow cove it made, built out of pale wood and white stone, stark against the dark volcano rock and shocks of green creeping up the back. Daichi had never seen any rock like it, even if the houses reminded him of the Ba Sing Se wall barracks with a pang sharper than he expected. He wanted to get his feet in that. “Would the new people like a tour before you unload?” he asked. “We’d love a chance to catch up with our old friends, too, of course.”

“Bite my ass!” Mori yelled from the back. Half the dock snickered. The wife waved them along, leading them down the long deck towards the beach and the ramshackle stairs built up and down the cliff, her husband not letting her go so they had to three-legged sway. She didn’t seem to mind too much.

Daichi tried not to be obvious as he wove through the ambling crowd to Kuroo’s side, snagging him by the ponytail to yank his ear down to his level and hiss, “Tetsu?”

Kuroo winced and knocked Daichi’s hand off his hair. “Damn, you’re observant.” He kept walking, making Daichi’s shorter legs struggle to keep up. “It’s my given name. Tetsurou, in full.” His face tightened. “I’m not a huge fan of it.”

Daichi swallowed. “You…” He punched Kuroo’s arm, knocking him the width of the dock. “I can’t believe you!”

Kuroo squawked and hit Daichi back, edge of a board stabbing Daichi’s heel when he staggered back. “Like you’re one to talk, Mr. Dog Whisperer!”

Daichi’s face heated. “We had just met!” Multiple someones behind them were laughing, but Daichi blocked them out and snapped a foot out to kick Kuroo’s thigh with his bare instep. “That’s not the same!” Kuroo caught himself just before he could fall in the chest-deep water, eyes glinting over a wild grin. “Kur-”

Kuroo launched himself at Daichi, taking them both into the warm water with a slap of a splash. Daichi struggled and coughed, but Kuroo had him tight around the soggy waist, laughing into his neck as he flipped them over in the water before standing Daichi on solid sand, still laughing, a rare, full-bellied one that didn’t sound like a donkey-goat at all. Daichi coughed up saltwater and shoved Kuroo back in with both hands and a foot, ponytail disappearing under churned-up foam. “Hah!”

“Beach party!” Ryuu cawed from the dock. He threw off his tunic and jumped in with a war cry, most everyone else following suit, even Snowflake, leaving Nekomata and Tooru on the dock with the Sugurus, gaping at the happy chaos that had erupted without warning. Daichi was too busy fighting off Kuroo’s attempts at revenge to try and drag Tooru in as well, fuck his first impressions, but Nekomata offered a helping trip over the side before he took his shoes off and sat on the edge, chuckling at the general splendor.

This is all- your fault,” Kuroo choked out between laughter as he and Daichi grappled in the surf, hair stuck to his face and wet brush of his ponytail slapping his ear. Daichi grinned and flicked water out of his eyes, salt in his mouth and humid breath on his face. Kuroo pressed down on their gripped forearms, trying to use his height to his advantage, but Daichi wasn’t born short yesterday. He twitched to the side so Kuroo fell in face-first, lost in the churn. Daichi panted and tugged at his clinging clothes with his freed hands as Kuroo struggled to right himself again, both their crews swimming and splashing around them. Kuroo spun as fast as the water would let him, ponytail whipping out an arc of water drops. Daichi beamed at him.

“Didn’t you used to have control of your crew, Tetsu?” the husband on the dock yelled. Daichi looked behind him at the island couple, waiting amid a pile of castoff clothing, the wife with a knuckle pressed to her grin and the husband smirking. “Seems to me you’ve lost your touch!”

Kuroo huffed. “Oh yeah?” Daichi glanced back ahead as he barked, “Kindaichi!” Yuutarou whipped around from where he was trying to smother Tobio with some seaweed. Kuroo pointed at the Sugurus and called, “Target!”

Yuutarou’s well-trained muscles responded to the drill call, raising a wave five feet over his head and shoving it their way, the people between them lifting with it as it rolled by to break over the dock, drenching the two of them (while Nekomata stayed perfectly dry to the side). Kuroo donkey-goat-brayed, slapping wet hands to Daichi’s shoulders as they all laughed at the wet owl-cats screeching on the dock. Yuutarou realized what he had done as soon as he did it, of course, propelling forward and gushing apologies as he pulled the water off their hair and clothes. Kuroo was still ugly-laughing, clutching Daichi for support, dripping all over him. Something gold grew in Daichi’s chest, as iridescent as the fish they were scaring away, shiny and flittering. He laughed and clutched him back.

They did, eventually, get to have their island tour, as well as meet the other island residents and move the Oikawa cargo, so long hidden in the belly of the Nekoma, to one of the two triangle-sailed skiffs that had been moored by the mangroves. From what Nekomata had described their friends as the other day, Daichi expected pampered rich people with a fleet of servants to wait on them, but their Nohebi Island wasn’t big enough to support more than their dozen for very long. It was lean living, but they seemed happy, their houses open to every breeze and fields along the back slope of what Daichi was told was an old volcano rich and well-tended. The foot of the slope was buried in mangroves that extended all the way to the barrier coral reef, a new concept for landbound Daichi. The mangroves were land-building trees, carefully tended by the islanders and home to goat-monkeys and orchids, birds and iguanas flitting overhead as they canoed through the cagey roots.

They climbed to the top of the cliff after the mangrove visit, pausing for shade in the gazebo built at the apex. All Daichi could see in any direction was crystal blue water and piercing blue sky, wisps of cloud and whitecaps almost indistinguishable at the meeting. It was breathtaking, like his first glimpse of the ocean all over, the wind sweet-smelling and dull, chasing away Daichi’s fear of the drop and numbing his thoughts to just his senses. He could live here, forever, and never want for anything.

The actual residents didn’t quite agree. They were Tooru’s first return-trip customers, inspecting the ivory and dried sealmeat as they helped transfer the crates, bartering for them with coconuts and ornate shell jewelry. Daichi felt himself slip back into merchant mode – even though this wasn’t his lifeblood like tea, he had still helped acquire it all and knew their stock almost as well as Tooru (but not as well as Tobio). The islanders grew some very unusual plants, including some that Daichi knew were illegal in the Earth Kingdom, but Tooru lit up anyway and happily packed away bricks of hash and heart-shaped seeds they claimed were birth control in among the taro root and passionfruit.

Daichi got to catch up with the islanders as they shuffled and traded. The island was overseen by a scarred older man with scruffy pale hair and a scratch of a beard, who always had a smile on his face but had a walk to him that made Daichi try not to sneak up on him. He watched over a clutch of ‘former colleagues’ as happy and hard as him, a widow who kept making eyes at a confused Ukai with a teenaged daughter who kept making eyes at a bewildered Yuutarou, a quiet solo act who was more interested in the make of their ship than the people who came on it, and a married couple even sharper-edged than the Sugurus. They all gave Daichi the same impression as the residents of Wakunan South – smiling, happy, but with a knife ready if anything tried to start. Daichi didn’t dislike any of them, but all the same, he would be glad to not have to watch his back on every turn, idyllic landscape or no.

They finished packing just when the sun started to turn orange above the horizon. Kenma appeared at Tobio’s side as they got herded to the biggest house for dinner – Daichi hadn’t even seen them leave the ship – to hold Tobio’s elbow and murmur in his ear. Kuroo only barely flinched at their appearance; apparently, these people were safe for them to be around. Of course, if these people were hiding from the law in multiple countries, they were probably safer for a political refugee to be around than law-abiding citizens.

Dinner was a loud and delicious affair, bright colors on their plates and outside the fluttering floor-length curtains over the open screens of the west-facing porch doors. The overseer’s house was all white open spaces and woven mats, only Tooru’s wide eyes at some of the strange decorations clueing Daichi into its extravagance. The islanders couldn’t stop asking question about the outside world, the progression of the war, the politics in Ba Sing Se, the border tension, where those four really from the Water Tribe? Daichi answered what he could as he ate, the punch they served nearly as strong as the icemelt town’s. It narrowed his focus, blurring out the spectacular sunset spectacle in front of him to only faces, voices, hands, the yellow fruit gathered in the middle of the large table. He didn’t even notice when the younger crowd disappeared with the dessert until he looked up to ask Tobio something and couldn’t find him. He blinked, glancing around as the party reappeared around him.

“Something wrong?” his current conversation partner – the other wife on the island – asked. Daichi shook his head, smiling.

“Sorry, just lost track of everyone. Didn’t realize the kids had left.”

She hummed, sipping her punch out of its hollow coconut bowl. “Yes, Kenma can be quite a spoilsport about keeping ‘developing brains’ away from the afterparty, whatever that means.” She smiled around her reed straw. “I’m sure Yumi doesn’t mind too much.”

Daichi laughed. “She’ll have to be awfully persistent to get through to Yuu, you wouldn’t believe some of the girls I’ve seen him be oblivious to.” He sank his teeth into the worn coconut meat of his punch bowl, the clean taste clearing his head a little. “Then again… it’s not like she’s subtle.”

The wife laughed, high-pitched and tittering. “No! No, like mother like daughter!” She nodded across the way where the widow was practically in Ukai’s lap, trying to spoonfeed him bits of guava. “They sure make life interesting,” she sighed, sitting back on one hand, eyes hooded as she looked around the room. One of the overseer’s colleagues was absent on top of the kids and Kenma, but all of the (relative) adults were still around, talking like them in clumps of two or three, eating fruit and drinking punch.

“Is every day here like this?” Daichi asked, drawing her attention away from her reverie. She smiled, swinging her heavy braid from one shoulder to the other.

“Oh, not every day. But we do try to entertain ourselves.” Her eyes caught something over his shoulder, and she let out a little ‘ah’. “And so the night begins at last.” Daichi twisted to follow her line of sight. The Sugurus had Taketora smashed between them, the wife twisting her fingers in his curly ponytail and chewing on his ear while the husband dragged a hand down his front, both competing to have his eyes on them. Oh.

“Oh,” Daichi breathed. He turned away from that to find the wife was a lot closer than he thought, hooded eyes under curls of light brown hair fixed on him. “Uh.”

Her eyes narrowed. “It’s alright, you know,” she purred, trailing her fingers up his arm. “It’s just how we entertain ourselves.”

He licked his lips as her fingers reached his elbow. “I-I’m seeing Kuroo,” he blurted out. Her hand paused, but didn’t leave.

“So? I’m married. We all have our faults.” She tilted her head, baring the long curve of her neck down into her gaping tunic. “Unless you’re the one-love kind?”

Daichi’s dry mouth couldn’t get enough air, heart hammering in his hands and ears. “I- I don’t…”

“Party time!” Daichi gasped as she pulled back at the booming yell. The missing colleague appeared at the dark door to the upstairs, strange glass contraption almost as tall as he was in his arms. He grinned over it as the islanders cheered, the two nearest going to help him place it on the center table. She squeezed his arm.

“Think about it,” she whispered, nails dragging in the hair on his forearm as she stood, wobbling over to her husband and plopping on his lap, octopus-squid grip slinging around him. Daichi blinked after her; the husband slow-blinked at him, petting her hair with a smile, eyes roaming over Daichi’s sprawl like he was hung over a fire. Had he been watching? Did he…

He needed some air. He struggled to his feet and stumbled to the veranda overlooking the cove, falling against the thick-poled railing and staring over the water. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the ocean breeze billow out his tunic and remind him that other worlds, other houses existed. He still had his punch coconut in his hands, so he sipped at it, more for something to do than anything. These things seemed truly bottomless… Think about it.

What did he think about it? He had never been fond of cheaters, having handled more than his share of farmgirls crying over their current flame’s wandering hands and never seen anyone happy to get caught in an affair. That said, if it was known, consensual… Did he really have a problem with it? With sleeping with a married couple? Of course it would be different – two people to take care of – he had barely even kissed a woman… They seemed like an alright sort, as far as criminals living outside the law went, but he couldn’t honestly say he was into them. But into that…

He bit down on coconut, fibers digging into his chin. He couldn’t deny that it looked nice, the idea of being in the middle like that, like Taketora just now – who had honestly surprised him. Daichi had always thought he and Kenma had something going on, but it had been hard to pin down, and Kenma didn’t seem like the type to give much of a shit about sex. Maybe this was how Taketora let it out? But, really, Daichi didn’t know a damned thing about it. About anything. Maybe he should have been scooped up by Kenma to go to bed with the rest of the ‘developing brains’.

He banged his forehead on the railing, clenching his eyes against the punch drunk spin. Different angle, different view. If Kuroo wanted to bring someone else in, would he be okay with it? It was hard to imagine Kuroo wanting that, but… it might be okay. If it was the right person…

His eyes popped open. Oh stars, they were about to have to say goodbye – if not for good, then at least for a long while. Would he honestly ask Kuroo to stay chaste their whole time apart? Would Kuroo ask him? Daichi took a breath, lifting his head enough to sip his punch. He couldn’t do that. Kuroo deserved to be happy, always, and Daichi couldn’t hold that hostage for whatever minor pangs of jealousy might haunt him in the future (it never had before). He hoped Kuroo might feel the same… Ugh, they needed to have a talk, apparently, before they…

His drink was empty. His head wasn’t clearer, but he had made up his mind on at least a few things. This wouldn’t be the best time for that talk, but he had to go back inside now. Any longer out here on his own and someone would come looking for him, and he didn’t want to roll those dice on who it would be. He took one more breath of salt air and turned back to the party, leaving his empty coconut on the railing.

The strange glass contraption was the centerpiece now, a hose of some kind attached near the bottom, the mouth passed around as people breathed in the cloudy smoke, held it, and blew it out to join the smog overhead. He must have been out there longer than he thought, for all his boys to have learned how to use the thing. Takahiro even tried to blow smoke rings like the overseer, failing miserably and making everyone laugh as all that came out was spit and a misformed blob. Daichi knelt at the edge of the circle, on the far side from the married couple that were still staring at him, and behind Hajime. He laid a hand on Hajime’s shoulder – yanked away. “What’s this?” he asked from a respectable distance.

Hajime turned at his voice, blinking a few times over blown-out pupils. He smiled, a slow spread, taking Daichi’s barely-there breath with him. “Oh, Dai. There you are.” He leant back into Daichi’s chest, head lolling back on his stiff shoulder. “You have got to try this,” he whispered, lips brushing Daichi’s neck. He inched away, trying to keep him supported but also away.

“Do you have to do this?” he whispered, and he didn’t mean to say that out loud.

“Do what?” Hajime’s eyelashes fluttered over Daichi’s neck – Hajime sprang back, burned, eyes black and white circles. “Oh- oh shit – Dai, I’m sorry-”

“It’s fine! It’s fine.” Daichi laughed, wanting to see anything in the world but the terror in Hajime’s hazy eyes. “Please don’t worry about it, it’s just me.”

“Dai…”

“Bossman!” Takahiro crawled across Issei and Ryuu’s laps to shove the hose in his face, an islander catching the glass tower before it could tip over. “Your turn, your turn!”

A crowd of voices egged him on even as Hajime edged away. Daichi stared down at the tube – took it. They cheered. Oh, fuck it.

His first hit just tasted like sweet air that clogged his throat on the way down. He coughed – just a little – but took two more pulls of whatever was in the thing before handing it off to a reaching hand. It tasted like how the corner of the tea field smelled that one winter one of the migrants tried to grow hash there – ah. Of course. Well, if that was all.

He was pulled into the circle as it spun, Ryuu holding him close as they laughed at smoke rings and sparks sent through them by firebenders to tell shadow stories. The back of his head didn’t miss how Kuroo sat apart, sulking in a far nook with a coconut and a scowl, but he never got a chance to ask why, and he didn’t really want to. He didn’t think he was ready for whatever his mouth would say.

The circle fractured when the smoke ran out, people retreating to their corners to begin their own nights. Daichi felt the burn of multiple sets of eyes on him and kept his head down, grateful when the couple and Kai dug out the instruments in the corner to jam together, plucking and reeding out something slow, something sultry. Please be seducing each other instead of me, he thought as he buried himself deeper in his overstuffed cushions. Maybe he could just sleep here, avoid all hazards-

“There you are!” Something heavy swung into his lap, making them both lurch in the slippery cushions. Daichi grabbed it on instinct and opened his eyes to Tooru, bent over him with bright eyes and teeth showing. “Found you,” he whispered, holding the sides of Daichi’s neck, thumbs in the hollows behind his ears. Daichi swallowed – his hands were on Tooru’s hips, smaller than he thought and far too close to his. Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

Daichi breathed, fingers and face distant tonight as they squeezed Tooru’s sides and said, “You found me.” Tooru’s hands slid up Daichi’s head to his hair, catching on his ears in their heavy sweaty press. Daichi licked dry lips. “You know,” he rasped, “I’m not Hajime.”

Tooru hummed, popping off Daichi’s hairband and putting it on his own wrist. “Yeah. I know.” He buried his hands in Daichi’s loose hair, shaking it out and bending in to sniff it. “You always smell like him, though.”

Daichi didn’t dare move his hands, his feet, anything but his tongue as Tooru nuzzled into his hair, chest pressed to Daichi’s shoulder, sliding down Daichi’s legs. Had he always been straddling him like that? “Thank you?”

“It’s a good thing,” Tooru told his hair, mouth trailing over his ear. He pulled cartilage through his teeth, and Daichi gasped, bucking up. “A very good thing.”

Daichi couldn’t get enough air, smoke and heat clinging to his teeth and Tooru follows his nose down, behind Daichi’s ear to his neck. His hands were almost kneading now – Tooru had even less ass to him than Kuroo-

“Oh-kay, that’s enough assault for you,” Issei’s voice said. He lifted Tooru off Daichi’s lap by the waist, ignoring his lazy kicking until he set him on his feet and pointed him in a different direction. “Go bother someone who actually wants it.” Daichi’s hands grasped at air as Tooru lit up above him – Hajime in his sights – and tripped off, Issei shaking his head after him. He looked down at Daichi, knelt in front of him. “Doing okay, bossman?”

Daichi nodded, still blinking away haze. “Yeah.” Issei rolled his eyes.

“Glad I decided to stay somewhat sober, if this is what y’all turn into stoned.” He held a hand out to Daichi, who clutched it with both of his. Issei hauled him to his feet, catching his waist when he almost pitched onto the floor. “Easy there, easy.”

Daichi hid his wet face in Issei’s shoulder – why was his face wet? Was he crying? “What…”

“Aw, you poor baby, of course your first high would suck.” His support bent and twisted under him. “Hey! Come take your man from me!”

A long pause, Daichi trying to stop this stupid crying and concentrate on the collarbone digging into his cheek. Issei shushed him, petting his hair. A new hand laid on his back.

“Hey there, puppy.” Daichi’s shoulders shook in a sob. Issei opened his arms and transferred him to a new too-tall support.

“Careful. He gets handsy when he’s drunk. Who knows what he’s like drunk and high.”

“Noted.” Hands directed his arms around a neck, then lifted him in a bridal carry. “Guess you’re not so awful after all,” rumbled from Daichi’s pillow.

“Don’t push it. Now get some water in him and get, I’ve got a whole house to babysit.” The pillow chuckled, then started to bounce, light changing through Daichi’s eyelids. He clung on tight, fat tears still leaking from his eyes. Sounds fell away, only his pillow’s breathing and Daichi’s hiccups disrupting the constant soughing of the ocean.

He was laid out on something, something soft and tender. Fingers brushed at his face, drawing hair away and wiping off salt. “Hey there. Look at me, puppy.” Daichi’s face twitched – he needed to open his eyes to obey, but he seemed to have forgotten how. The pillow sighed. “Oh, sweetheart. It’s okay.” The hands left him for a minute, but came back to slide under his head, lifting it as something was pressed to his mouth. “Here. Drink.” Daichi tried – at least his throat hadn’t forgotten how to swallow. He gasped halfway through, sputtering on it. The hand traced down his cheek. “It’s okay, sweetling, I’ve got you.”

His eyes remembered how to work all at once, popping open with a gasp. Kuroo’s face hovered above him, surrounded by a swirl of yellow-green and blues, shocks of pink like sunrays, highlighting the moonlight in his hair and the crease in his brow. Kuroo smiled, the yellow brightening. “Hey, precious.”

Daichi panted for air, trying to snag one of the rainbows, hand closing on empty air. “You’re- really pretty,” he gasped, hand falling on Kuroo’s shoulder instead. Kuroo’s mouth twisted.

“That’ll be the drugs talking, I believe.” Daichi shook his head with all his being, pushing to sit up and grab Kuroo’s stupid head, knocking into him and staring into beaten-gold eyes.

“No. You’re really pretty.” Kuroo sighed, breath hot in Daichi’s open mouth. “I hate your hair, because it gets in the way of your eyes, and I wanna see them, all the time, forever, and I love your stupid nose, and your ears, and I…” He wrapped his arms all the way around Kuroo’s neck, hiding in it, nose in the dip of Kuroo’s collarbone. Kuroo sighed and rubbed down his back.

“Don’t start crying again, please. My weak little heart can’t stand it.” He held Daichi to him, rocking a little. “For what it’s worth,” he mumbled into Daichi’s ear, “I think you’re really pretty, too.”

Daichi choked on a laugh. “I’m not pretty.”

“I heartily disagree. But we’ll save the arguments about who’s the prettier one later.” His hands slid to Daichi’s front to tug at his belt. “How about right now I let you cry on me until you fall asleep?”

Daichi chuckled as he shrugged off his tunic, sheets jerking out from under him. “Only if you sleep, too.” He felt Kuroo’s pink smile hang in the air as he directed him under the sheets and onto his favorite pillow. “’ove you,” he breathed, burrowing in close. Kuroo didn’t respond, too busy fingercombing the tangles out of Daichi’s hair.

Chapter Text

“Sweetheart. Precious, it’s time to wake up.”

Daichi groaned and shoved his face hard into his pillow. His head felt like it was stuffed with rotten cotton, sour bile brewing in his throat, brain swimming in mush, and the chuckling and backrubbing going on was not helping. “Go ‘way,” he moaned.

“Now, now. What kind of caretaker would I be if I did that?” His fingers were wrapped around something – a stick. “Chew on that, when you can. I promise you’ll feel better.” Daichi moaned again, but dragged the stick to his mouth and stuck it between his teeth, bitter leaf juice bursting in his mouth. After so long with Kenma’s tea, he was used to unpleasant plant matter in the morning, so he munched away, consciousness teasing at him. Kuroo sat by him all the while, hand rubbing from neck to waist, scratching in intervals and humming one of Kai’s favorite songs over the constant noise of the ocean crashing into the beach. Daichi’s hangover faded in the wake of the blue and white world, clean sun-dried sheets and light dappled across the half of his face not on the pillow. He sighed, melting into it. “You do actually have to get up, pup. We should have already sailed out, and it’s not polite to overstay our welcome.”

Daichi winced, but pushed himself up by his hands to sit back, rubbing at his face and looking around. Judging by the view outside the open balcony doors, they were in an upstairs bedroom, barren but for the bed and a shock of bright red coral as a corner decoration. Flowering vines grew up the balcony railing visible through the wafting curtains, giant pink and yellow blossoms against dark green foliage and the multi-typed wood of the island architecture. Daichi sighed, picking at the chewed-up stick in his lap. “What I’d give to freeze time right now.”

Kuroo chuckled, leaning into his side, draping an arm around his waist. “Ah, but if you could do that, what’d be the point in letting it run?” He smacked a kiss to Daichi’s temple and stood. “C’mon, up. Everyone else is already about.” Daichi sighed, but took the offered hand and let himself be drawn off the unfairly-soft bed. Kuroo held him close instead of letting him bend to pick up his tunic from the floor, though, tipping up his chin for a slow, lingering kiss. Daichi clung to it, kissing him back as much as his twig-breath would let him, holding Kuroo still with both hands to dip in deeper. Kuroo yanked away, panting. “Well, good morning to you, too.” Daichi grinned and tugged on Kuroo’s ear. Kuroo’s arms fell away, and Daichi left them to get dressed, tugging at his- empty wrist. Where was his hairband?

He scoured the barren room as Kuroo left to get the rest of his charge in order, but it had taken legs in the night and was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he had lost it in the party last night? Well, wherever it was, it wasn’t in that room. He still checked behind the coral and out on the ledge of the balcony, pulling in the scent and the sight like water in a drought. He picked one of the big yellow flowers and, after shaking off the ants, tucked it behind one ear, the brush of its petals and perfume like the island caressing his cheek.

He knew that he should go down and prepare to leave, but Daichi lingered, twirling a vine around his wrist and watching the pale green water of the cove below. Even from this height he could see the fish swimming bright dots, iguana-seals and sea turtle-rays bigger ones. He thought he knew what the ocean smelled like after over a month living in a glacier, but this place was another world, surreal, like a painting of an island a god breathed life into. He really could spend the rest of his life here.

“There you are!” Daichi glanced over his shoulder at Tooru standing in the bedroom door, hands on his hips and pout on his face. “Stop sighing over bubbles and get out here!”

Daichi laughed, not leaving his railing. “Sure, sure.” Tooru rolled his eyes and stomped over. Daichi turned to lean back on the railing and watch Tooru’s fussy approach, hair bouncing and gold embroidery glittering in the sun. “Can’t we stay a little longer?” he asked.

“We cannot. We’re already late.” Still, Tooru slowed for the last few steps, leaning next to Daichi on the railing instead of dragging him away. He closed his eyes and turned his face into the wind. He had more freckles now than when they left Ba Sing Se months- years- eons ago, sun glowing through his skin and scars. Daichi had always admired how he looked in his family colors of teal and white, all of his clothes speckled with gold embroidery that liked to catch the light at interesting angles. His hair waved in the breeze like a heavy flag, slow and mesmerizing. Daichi’s hand twitched. Tooru sighed, “It is nice, though. We’ll have to come back sometime.”

Daichi smiled. “We?”

Tooru opened one eye, a little smile shining through. “Dear, just because you’re going home doesn’t mean you’re staying there. I’ll drag you along even if I have to pay you myself.”

Daichi laughed, ocean blue lodged behind his breastbone. “Oh, I’m sure we can work something out.” Tooru grinned, tongue in his teeth, and nudged Daichi’s shoulder. Daichi nudged him back, tucking the flower threatening to fall out more securely behind his ear.

Tooru let out a little noise and shoved Daichi around to face the water again, running his fingers through Daichi’s wind-tangled hair. Daichi took the flower out to twirl it between his fingers. “Can’t have you going anywhere with your hair like this,” Tooru muttered, “it’s unseemly.”

“Oh really?” Tooru blew a loud raspberry at him. “I couldn’t find my hairband,” he admitted.

“Yeah, because I had it. Wonder if this shrub’s long enough yet to braid… your hair really grows like a weed, dear.”

“Thanks, I guess.” Daichi muttered. “But why did you have it?”

“I…” Tooru’s fingers paused in their attempts to yank a few links of a braid out of Daichi’s hair. “Oh. I…” He cleared his throat. “You don’t remember?”

Daichi frowned at the sea as his scalp was tugged. He remembered coconuts, a hand down someone’s front, sunbaked eyes staring at him, that weird glass contraption, Tooru on his- oh. Tooru tapped his stiff shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, voice rough. “It wasn’t you, after all.”

Daichi swallowed, overcome with a flash of Tooru’s nose tracing behind his ear. “Ah- yeah. Okay.” Tooru tied off the stub of the braid and stepped back.

“Well- I’m going back down.” Tooru cleared his throat. “Come on when you’re ready.” He left, boot heels clacking on hardwood towards the sliding screen door. Daichi collapsed over the railing, long stamen of the flower dusting pollen over his new braid. Great.

He didn’t jump off the cliff like he half wanted to, but he did barely make it to the dock in time for takeoff. Kuroo chewed him out a little, but Tooru stayed away, busying himself with making sure the ship was ready and thanking the islanders for their hospitality. Daichi forced himself to keep his eyes away, looking at anything and everything else. The widow and her daughter were giving teary farewells to their targets from last night, Ukai and Yuutarou still as confused and bewildered as then. Ryuu was laughing with the overseer’s colleagues, fast friends like he always made. Akira and Yuki were ignoring each other a lot like how Daichi and Tooru were, and Daichi knew better than to ask. Sou was showing off Snowflake’s tricks to the disinterested sailor; the Sugurus were trimming up a red-faced Taketora’s appearance while Akane did the same for Kenma and Tobio. Kuroo was talking with the overseer, who had a reddish-brown bird perched on his arm, thick leathery glove keeping the wicked talons from scratching his flesh. Kuroo rolled up a piece of ricepaper and stuck it in the tube on its back, the bird flying away when the overseer threw his arm up. Kuroo watched, hand shading his eyes.

Someone sighed at Daichi’s elbow. He looked down at Mori, watching the same scene with a bitter smile. “It’s gonna be quiet with y’all gone,” he said, crossing his arms. “Y’all sure are a lively bunch.” Daichi tried to smile – really did when Kuroo saw them and waved, waving back. “I’m gonna miss you the most, though, you rockhead.” Daichi blinked down at him in surprise. Mori nodded in Kuroo’s direction. “He’s been a lot better since you came aboard. Calmer. Sleeps more without having to get Kenma to knock him out.” Daichi swallowed on a tight throat. Kuroo threw a quick word to the overseer and started towards them. “You better get your ass back to us before too long,” he said, slapping Daichi’s arm. “I ain’t lookin’ to spend my whole life listening to the shitheap mope and pine.”

Daichi nodded just as Kuroo got into earshot. Kuroo raised an eyebrow. “You talking about me?”

“Not on your life,” Mori barked. Kuroo laughed, reaching out to tuck the dangling (now wilting) flower firmer behind Daichi’s ear. Mori huffed and tightened his crossed arms. “Are y’all lot about ready to get out of my hair?”

“Just about.” At Daichi’s surprised blink, Kuroo said, “Yaku, Kai, and the captain like to stay behind with the ship, in case it needs moving or our gracious hosts get too curious in how it runs.”

“You can take the pirate out of the sea, but you can’t take the sea out of the pirate.” Mori made a face at the elegant sailboat. “Besides, you couldn’t pay me to set foot on that giant splinter flying on knickers.”

“Charming as ever.” He crooked two fingers as he turned. “C’mon, pup, past time to board.”

Daichi nodded, waiting until he was out of earshot again before gripping Mori’s shoulder. “I’m coming back,” he swore.

“I know, child. I know you will.”

It was a two-day sail to the port town at the mouth of the Green River. The waterbenders offered to help, but the scarred colleague with the whip-weal slicing their face and the burn scar covering half their scalp refused. They were particular about their hand-built baby, it seemed. They barked orders to the Nekoma sailors and Seijoh alike to tie off sails and man the rudder without a care to their station or exerpience, but Daichi couldn’t deny that the butter-yellow sails cut a pretty curve between the sea and sky.

It was close quarters under the deck of their well-named Wet Dreams. It was more like the water skimmers of the North Pole than the steamy construction of the Nekoma, but there were no stretched skins across whalebones at the bottom, but beautiful wood chosen for its hue and water durability. Daichi spent a significant portion of the daylight out on the water with Akira, skating in the surf and inspecting the ship builder’s remarkable handiwork while both not talking about who they may be avoiding after getting inadvisably close to them on the island. Akira was very good at not talking.

Daichi was surprised when Kenma didn’t stay behind on Nohebi, but tagged along, clinging to Tora’s tunic and smothering Tobio, and shocked when Kuroo doesn’t bat an eye. He got the lack of protest on the almost deserted island in the middle of the largest bay in the Earth Kingdom, but this destination was a fairly well-known port town. Even Daichi had heard of it before this whole thing happened. Why was this okay?

Daichi asked Kuroo their first night on the sailboat, curled up on the only stable bed in the ship (the ship captain liked to swing to sleep, so Kuroo and Tooru had flipped a coin for it). Kuroo hummed, pulling a lock of Daichi’s hair through his fingers. “Well, you’re not wrong to wonder,” he rumbled. “But we’re meeting up with some old friends in port. Kenma doesn’t like to say it out loud, but he’s got a soft spot for them, and we’re only going to be there for a night. Even a really lucky bounty hunter won’t be there in time.” He twisted the hair around his fingers, cheek against Daichi’s forehead. “Plus, they’re good for him.”

Daichi pushed up to his elbows to face him in full, his hair spread over the pillow, eyes lidded. “I see it now.” Kuroo tiled his head, and Daichi grinned. “You’re a sap.” Kuroo scowled and whapped Daichi over the head with a throw pillow, Daichi laughing and rolling away, accepting the pillow punishment as due course.

“You-” Kuroo threw the pillow away to grab Daichi’s face and kiss him hard, that dinnertime kiss Daichi couldn’t get enough of. He hitched a leg around Kuroo, holding him down with a punch of a sigh. Kuroo stretched out over him, long lines lighting Daichi on fire. He laughed again and rolled them back over, calling Kuroo names until Kuroo had to kiss him to shut him up.

The weather held for the two days of the trip, hot and clear, only the spray of the surf keeping them cool. The shore of the Earth Kingdom appeared halfway through the second day, a mere shadow at first that grew into bumps and ridges as they curved in at a diagonal towards a spot in the distance more brown than most. Daichi watched it approach with a tight throat and watering eyes (from the saltwater, of course).

The harbormaster knew the Wet Dreams and her fussy owner’s demands, so he directed them to a pier at the end of the busy but rigorously structured harbor, away from any larger or dirtier neighbors. It would mean a longer haul to take the cargo from the end of the pier to the shore, but if it made their captain happy-

The highest scream Daichi had ever heard shrieked across the water. They all whipped towards it, Ryuu rubbing at his ear with a wince. “Akane!”

Akane leapt off the ship in a huge bound, pier vibrating with her landing, wide grin splitting her face. “Kaori!”

A skinny woman with a long brown ponytail sprinted down the dock, screaming the whole way. Akane met her in the middle and lifted her off the ground, high squeals reverberating around the masts and shrouds of the pier. Daichi stared. “What the-”

But the rest of the Nekoma crew was following her lead, vaulting onto the pier if they weren’t there already, running into the arms of a leather and yellow clump, the two sides clashing like the front lines of a battle, complete with war cries and casualties, multiple bodies tackled to the ground. Seijoh was left to stare after them, jaws popped open as the normally composed and professional crew rolled around on the dock like puppies. “Gentlemen,” Kuroo said from the boat. They looked back at him, and he smiled, gesturing down the dock. “Fukurodani.”

“Kuroo!” His head whipped up, eyes wide. He jumped to the dock as one of the big yellow blobs separated from the mass and barreled toward them. Kuroo grinned.

“Always nice to see you, Bo-” He squeaked as broad arms scooped him up and spun him around, booming laughter and wild hair. “Bo,” Kuroo choked out, arms trapped in the platypus-bear hug. “Please.”

‘Bo’ put Kuroo down just to grab his face and kiss him full on the mouth, Kuroo bending back with the attack. Daichi blinked, heartbeat in his ears whiting out the rest of the world. Kuroo kissed him back, hands clutched around a wood bead necklace. Wasn’t Daichi supposed to feel something?

They smacked away as the rest of the yellow tornado caught up with him, Kuroo and the brawny newcomer panting in each other’s faces. You sure know how to greet a man, Daichi read on Kuroo’s lips. Bo laughed, arms still holding Kuroo tight – they could probably break him. Daichi stepped forward…

“Kou, let the poor man go.” He obeyed the order of the plump redhead waltzing up, switching to cinch her close and laugh into her bun. She rolled her eyes at Kuroo. “As always, I’m sorry about him.”

Kuroo shook his head, stars still in his eyes. “As always, there’s no need to apologize.” Kuroo cleared his throat, turning back to the still-gaping, frozen Seijoh arrayed between the ship railing and the dock. His face flushed. “Ah. Well. This is Koutarou Bokuto and his wife, Yukie.” Yukie fluttered her fingers as Bokuto waved with his whole arm. “They’ll help y’all get to Wakunan.”

“Sure! Any friends of Kuroo’s are friends of ours!” Bokuto beamed at all of them. Tooru coughed and stepped forward. Bokuto whistled. “Now who’s this pretty showpony?”

Yukie slapped her husband (who had just made out with Kuroo in plain daylight) and bowed, hands on her knees. “I’m afraid Kou doesn’t have any idea what proper manners are,” she said. “You get used to it.”

Tooru shone his brightest grin at her. “I’m sure.” He returned her bow. “I’m Tooru Oikawa, and this band of merry men are my guard.” He flicked his fingers back at the boat. “Would you like to see the cargo and discuss transport?”

She smiled, dimples digging into her cheeks. “Of course.” She thumped a fist into her husband’s chest (why was Daichi not kicking his ass right now). “Behave.” He saluted, and she let Tooru lead the way, accepting his arm when he offered. Tooru gave Daichi a wide-eyed grimace as they passed, but Daichi was still rooted to the dock, gearbag over his shoulder a lead weight.

The rest of Seijoh was breaking from the Bokuto-spell, going to meet the yellow crowd or continuing their unpacking tasks. Snowflake wove through feet to sniff the new people; Bokuto cried out and scooped her up, holding her in the air over his head (not as easy as it used to be) to inspect her with glee. “Kuroo! Where did you find her?” She barked, and he laughed, snuggling into her ruff. Kuroo smiled.

“Actually, I-” Kuroo’s eyes blew wide, and he jumped around to find Daichi. A laugh bubbled out of him as Kuroo ran to him. Really, what was there to be mad about? Kuroo slid to an uneasy stop in front of Daichi, hands on Daichi’s elbows, flipping his hair out of his eyes so he could see with both. “Oh shit, Dai, I should have– Bo, he’s really physical– it doesn’t mean– I–”

Daichi laughed, cutting off Kuroo’s babbling with two fingers over Kuroo’s mouth. “It’s okay, Kuroo. I don’t mind.” He patted Kuroo’s cheek. “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

Kuroo sagged, smile bursting out of his seams. “Damn, I love you.” Daichi sucked in a breath.

“Is she yours, then?” Bokuto asked. Kuroo and Daichi sprang apart as Bokuto waited with a big child’s smile on his face, Snowflake cradled in his arms as she batted at the tassels handing from his necklace. Daichi nodded, heartbeat pounding in his palms.

“Uh- yeah. Got her in the North Pole.” He grinned. “I’d tell her to say hi, but it looks like she’s already taken care of that.” He clicked his tongue, she jumped to attention, ears perked up.

Bokuto beamed, all his uneven teeth on display. “Ah! I always heard the snow fox-dogs were the smartest!” He put Snowflake down so she could heel properly. “What’re her commands, then?”

Daichi frowned – think, Daichi, think, just because Kuroo loves – he tugged at his ponytail. “Well. There’s a lot.” Bokuto lit up, but Kuroo snapped his fingers in front of his face.

“You’ll have plenty of time to drool over the pup later, Bo.” Kuroo smiled at Daichi, whose heart flipped more than it was worth. “Sorry, they’re animal trainers. It’s all these folks got in their tiny heads.”

“Yep!” Bokuto propped his ham fists on his hips. “Finest selection in any kingdom!”

Snowflake patted Daichi’s leg with a paw, panting up at him. Daichi’s eyes crinkled. So she wanted to show off, huh? “Oh yeah?” He widened his stance, and she yipped, weaving around his knees with his clicks and whistles, far past the need for jerky bribes. He snapped, and she halted in front, sitting facing him, tail thumping on the wood. He held his hand at his head height and whistled, and she jumped, nose just touching his palm.

“Aw, what a good girl!” Bokuto crooned, kneeling to rub her down, her tongue lolling out with the attention. “So smart!” He beamed up at Daichi, big gold eyes almost as disconcerting as Kenma’s. “What’s her name?”

“Snow- Snowflake.”

Bokuto gasped. “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl!” She flopped over to show her belly, Bokuto delighted to switch scratching zones.

“Uncle Kuroo!” Kuroo was slammed into Daichi’s side by an unknown force, sending them both stumbling. Daichi kept him steady as someone very small and very freckled hung from Kuroo’s neck, orange headscarf tied around their head. “Where you been?”

Kuroo tried to catch the headscarf with no luck. “I’ve been around, little shrimp,” he choked, “now get off.” They gasped and swung a full circle around Kuroo’s neck instead, sailing onto the boat, a brief burst of fire from their feet propelling them the last few yards to land on the deck and spring off again, shouting for Kenma and running towards their hiding place at the bow. “I thought you had that thing muzzled,” Kuroo coughed. Bokuto laughed, hopping up to clap Kuroo on the back.

“Aw, c’mon, Shouyou’s harmless!” Kuroo growled, but Bokuto ignored it and called at the boat, “Honey! Almost done?”

“Almost!” Yukie’s voice yelled through the wood. “And stop yelling at me!”

Bokuto laughed. “Women, am I right?” He flicked a salute and jogged up the gangplank, screaming questions at her as she screamed answers back. Daichi sighed, shoulders drooping.

“Where do you find these people,” he groaned. Kuroo chuckled.

“Well, it varies, but it usually involves alcohol and strange transportation requests.” He elbowed Daichi. “Sound familiar?”

“Hah hah, bite me.” Daichi elbowed him back, then took a deep breath. “By the way…” Kuroo tilted his head, and Daichi set his stance. “I love you, too.” He ran on the boat, Snowflake at his heels and Kuroo frozen behind him. He covered a grin with his hand, ears hot.

Daichi wasn’t sure what he expected Bokuto’s ‘finest selection in any kingdom’ to look like, but nothing could have prepared him for the reality. The animals that filled the stable and innyard weren’t the standard ostrich-horses, but wild creatures Daichi hadn’t even seen at the northern animal farm, all very well-behaved and complacent for how extravagant their trappings were. Fukurodani treated them like children, cooing over them and brushing them down as they worked with Seijoh and the abbreviated Nekoma crew to pack their bags, all different shapes and sizes that threw Tooru into a fit. Daichi wanted to badger him, comfort him, work with him to find a solution they could all be happy with. When Tooru caught his eye across the innyard, though, he just breathed, time stilling. Tooru blinked at him from under the hand wiping away the sweat on his brow, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Daichi jerked away; a beat later, Tooru’s voice rang out over the yard, calling for Iwa-chan to come lift this like the beast he was.

Somehow, in the midst of the sea to shore chaos, Hajime threw together that birthday party Tooru had cried about back on the Nekoma. Once the Wet Dreams was empty and everyone had bunked down at the inn for the night – even the ship captain and the Nekoma crew, who would sail back to Nohebi in the morning – they got the party started. Hajime had hoarded some of the rarer fruits from the island and smuggled them into the kitchen, where the staff made punch and fruit tarts for everyone, ocean fish caught in the Wet Dreams’ evening nets as the main course. Kai wasn’t around to string up a song, but two of the Fukurodanis proved to have instruments of their own, the skinny sister their singer as the three crews and the few other patrons at the inn danced after dessert. Hajime didn’t let Tooru out of contact the entire time. They were both glowing, happy and lovely, but some part of Daichi disconnected to hover over the party, blue and withered. He swirled his punch cup around at his corner bench, staring into it so he didn’t have to watch them. He really didn’t want to dig into what he was feeling right then, or why.

“What’s with the long face?” Daichi looked up at Bokuto standing before him, statue-braced, hair even wilder than that afternoon (Daichi had already witnessed the slobbery animal love that went into its styling and resolved never to touch it). Daichi sighed.

“Nothing, just… not in a partying mood.” He tried to smile. “Don’t let me spoil your night.”

“What? No way!” Bokuto plopped down on the small bench beside him, seat threatening to tilt his way. “No one’s gonna be sad while I can do something about it – not tonight, at least!” He slung an arm around Daichi’s shoulders and pulled him in (Daichi wasn’t used to feeling so small). “Talk to Uncle Bo.”

Daichi huffed. “Oh, just… people.” He blinked at swirling red – Ryuu was actually dancing with Kuroo, a patented first, tiger-shark teeth on full display. Kuroo didn’t look perturbed, but he had seemed a little vacant all day. “I’ve said a lot of goodbyes in the last few months,” he mumbled, “but I think this one might actually hurt.”

Bokuto hummed. “Yeah, Kuroo’s hard to say goodbye to. And, sorry, but it doesn’t get any easier.” He rocked them with the music, Daichi hunched around his punch. “He seems really happy,” he said. “I dunno what y’all went through out there, or who you are even, but if Kuroo feels so strongly about you, you gotta be good.” The song came to an end, the musicians taking a water break. A few people took the chance to escape the party and sneak to bed. Ryuu punched Kuroo’s arm with a big laugh and let him go, spinning off to find the Yamamotos to give Akane one final twirl. Kuroo glanced around, a little lost. Bokuto stood, lifting Daichi with him, and shoved him in that direction. “If you want it to be a good goodbye,” he chirped, “you might want to start now!” Daichi stumbled a little with the push, but caught himself and flashed a grin at a beaming Bokuto before meeting Kuroo in the middle, catching his hands at waist level. Kuroo smiled down at him, eyes dark slits.

“Care for a dance, sweetheart?”

Daichi swallowed, staring up at a patient Kuroo. “Actually,” he said, “this isn’t really the kind of dance I’m in the mood for.” Kuroo blinked – smirked. “Don’t make that face,” Daichi grumbled, spinning on his heel to drag Kuroo away by the hand. “Just come on.” Kuroo blew kisses at the catcalling onlookers, Daichi’s ears burning as he pounded up the stairs and ignored them all. Jackasses.

Later that night, when the inn had quieted and only one torch was still lit in the yard (shining directly onto their bed), Daichi adjusted his recline on Kuroo’s chest, throat tight. Kuroo traced his long fingers over the lines of Daichi’s palm, probably thinking about what they said, but not rambling about it for once. It was odd, after so long of red silk and a gentle sway, to lie stationary on simple cotton. It made it real. Tomorrow is goodbye.

“You’re thinking awful loud there, pup.” Kuroo pressed his cheek to Daichi’s forehead. “Go ahead and let it out.”

Daichi frowned down at Kuroo’s pale fingers smoothing over his suntan. “We need to talk about what comes after tomorrow.” The fingers still. “I mean, what do you want?”

“I hadn’t given that much thought,” he lied. “It depends on what you want.”

Daichi huffed and gripped Kuroo’s fingers. “Don’t give me that.” He tapped Kuroo’s chest with his temple. “We have to want the same thing or this won’t work.”

Kuroo sighed, breath dusting Daichi’s skin. “Sweetheart, we don’t even know when or if we’ll see each other again-” Daichi’s throat let out a strangled squeak. Kuroo chuckled. He reached up with his un-held hand to tuck some of Daichi’s tangled hair out of the way, fingertips like fire. “Do we really want to hold out on a hope that our stars might cross again?”

“Of course.” He pounded on Kuroo’s breastbone, a breath punching out across Daichi’s face. “You really – did you think I’d let you go like that?” He clenched his teeth against the yawning ache in his chest. “Did you?”

Kuroo hummed, petting Daichi’s hair. “You’re so young, puppy.” Daichi wiggled around to pout at Kuroo, chin thumping on his shoulder. Kuroo cupped his cheek, thumb tracing the soft give under his eye. “I don’t think you even realize. I wouldn’t want you to tie yourself to me on a ghost on a hope.”

Daichi ground his teeth. “Stop being like this,” he snapped. “You’re not that much older than me! And it’s not ‘being tied down’ if I want to be here.” He set his jaw. “If that’s what you’re worried about, ask me to stay,” he challenged, fisting the sheet by Kuroo’s shoulder. Kuroo sighed, hand dropping to Daichi’s neck.

“No.” Daichi’s skin washed in waves of temperatures, cold and hot and cool. His hand slid down Daichi’s shoulder to his arm, drawing the outline of Daichi’s sunburst tattoo with his nails. “I couldn’t ask you to do that anymore than you could ask me to come ashore with you now.” He sighed. “You belong on land, to the earth. You’re so unique. You don’t bend the earth, the earth bends for you, with you.” His hand fell away, limp at his side. “I couldn’t take you away from that, any more than you could take me off my ship.” He smiled, one side higher than the other. “We’ve doomed ourselves.”

Daichi groaned and thumped his forehead into Kuroo’s shoulder. “I hate you,” he grumbled.

Kuroo chuckled and wrapped his arms around Daichi. “The truth hurts.” Daichi punched his shoulder and pushed back up, will mustered.

“I love you.” Kuroo blinked, smirk falling into a shock Daichi would never get tired of seeing. “And I don’t plan on letting that change anytime soon.” He took a breath and pushed out, “But I don’t want to have to feel less for someone else so I can feel more for you.” He bit his lip. “And I don’t want to ask that of you, either.”

Kuroo’s forehead furrowed. “I’m not sure I entirely get what you mean.”

Daichi’s fingers twitched. “Like- like Bokuto.” Kuroo’s eyes widened. “I don’t have a problem with you having a relationship like that, as long as you’re happy, and they’re good for you.” He swallowed. “And I don’t want to feel guilty if I find something like that when we’re a world apart.” He flipped his hair out of his face, pushed it all to one side so it hung over his left shoulder. “If we only have a month a year together,” he said, “I’d rather neither of us be alone and depressed the other eleven.”

Kuroo stared at him for a few blinks, long enough for Daichi to start fidgeting. He bit his lip and rubbed his face with the heel of his hand, chest heaving with a silent laugh. “You’re- you’re really something, puppy.” He grabbed Daichi and rolled them over, sheets twisting as he peppered kisses over Daichi’s face, Daichi squirming and laughing under him. He paused to breathe at Daichi’s neck, nose against the tendon there. “I don’t know why I thought you would call us off for good,” he whispered. “You’d think I’d learn by now.” He pulled back to brush his nose over Daichi’s. “Of course you can have a life outside of me,” he muttered, foreheads pressed together. “I look forward to hearing about it.” Daichi grinned and squeezed Kuroo tight, tugging at the sheets a little to try and straighten them out.

“Same to you, old man.” Kuroo smacked a kiss on his cheek and helped him with the sheets, settling back down in reverse from before, Kuroo pillowed over Daichi’s heart and playing with his fingers. Daichi sighed and closed his eyes against the one lamp outside, hiding his smile in Kuroo’s hair.

The finger playing turned a little forceful. Daichi grumbled as Kuroo laughed, a sharp edge to it. “I knew your fingers were bigger than mine, but, really?” Daichi cracked an eye and glanced down. His breath caught as wide gold glinted in the single ray of light. Kuroo switched to his index finger, trying to slide it on over his thick knuckles. “I was going to sneak you something to remember me by,” Kuroo rambled, “and here I am, making a damn fool of-”

Daichi yanked him up for a hard kiss, diving in with teeth and tongue, holding him too tight. Kuroo sighed and melted into his appetite, lacing their other hands together, ring caught between their palms, slicing in. Daichi popped off the kiss, panting as Kuroo gasped for air, and took the ring, holding it up to the light. He had seen it on Kuroo’s hand every day, as much a fixture as the birthmark on his wrist or the hair in his eyes. His hands shook as he slid it on his little finger, a bit of a struggle over the knuckle but it fit fine where it was supposed to. He bit his cheek, vision watering. “I- I don’t have anything for you,” he choked out. Kuroo hummed.

“Don’t need it right now.” He burrowed in closer, throwing a leg over Daichi’s. “You can find something to give me next time.” Daichi laced his fingers together over the small of Kuroo’s back, heart closing his throat. Kuroo brushed his mouth under Daichi’s jaw. “Love you,” he whispered.

Daichi nodded. Kuroo smiled against his neck.

Chapter Text

Despite Kuroo’s bravado the night before, he was clingy all morning, dragging Daichi into every nook and cranny for private words and stolen kisses. Daichi didn’t mind much, and although their spotty absences slowed their departure, no one said anything about picking it up. The ring on Daichi’s little finger was heavy and odd, weight where there hadn’t been, and he couldn’t stop fidgeting with it. No one asked where it came from. They gave him his space, and they gave him his time.

But there was only so long they could delay. Fukurodani was antsy to get on the road, and the scarred island captain kept muttering about the tides. Seijoh and the Nekoma crew said goodbye in the innyard, exchanging hand clasps, final knickknacks, manly yet teary hugs. Ryuu and Taketora bawled into each other’s shoulders, Akane patting their backs with a sigh. Kenma was mobbed by a combination of the bouncy orange kid from the day before – Shouyou, Bokuto said his name was – and Tobio’s persistent questions. (They had already pulled Daichi aside to give him a bag full of migraine tea, carefully measured for just under a year’s supply and a mutteredpromise to maybe write down the recipe next time.) Takahiro and Fukunaga talked furiously in handsigns, monkey-macaw squawking as it rucked up one of the animal trainer’s hair, a big guy with a pronounced scowl. Yuki had introduced the ‘troublemakers’ to the youngest not-orange member of Fukurodani, a tall kid wrapped in undyed cotton, and all four of them were hanging off a shed-sized beetle and yelling louder than everyone else. Daichi was having trouble breathing, but it would pass. It had to.

Tooru and Yukie had caught Kuroo at some point and were hashing out details in a corner of the yard, Bokuto holding up a map and Hajime at Tooru’s elbow. Daichi really should have joined them, but… He looked away and went to help Issei and one of the animal handlers pack up the camelephant’s enormous bags.

The bills had been paid, debts honored, promises made. Seijoh took their assigned places on the variety of animal in the Fukurodani escort, everything from dragon-moose-pulled carts to a variegated ostrich-horse herd to the very high back of the camelephant. Daichi and Ryuu’s spot was with Bokuto on the lead cart, but he lingered in the dirt, spinning the ring on his finger.

“Well.” He turned as Tooru smiled his sharpest at Kuroo, hand extended. “I hope I never see you again.”

Kuroo blinked – grinned. He clasped Tooru’s arm, both of their knuckles white as they dug into flesh. “Go throw yourself in the river, princess.”

Tooru laughed, clear and true, and tapped Kuroo’s leg with his foot, not quite a kick. “Get out of my face, sleazeball.” Kuroo flicked a salute and let go, Tooru spinning on his heel and chirping orders at his crew. Daichi’s mouth twitched.

Kuroo whistled, and the Nekoma crew headed out of the inn’s gates ahead of them, waving and yelling as they left to walk through the whitewashed bricks of the town back to the dock. Their scarred captain had left a while ago, brushing down their Wet Dreams to be ready to catch the tide as soon as they arrived. Kuroo wove through the people, a small smile here, a touch there, before halting in front of Daichi, red rims around his eyes turning them from gold to pewter. He gripped Daichi’s arm, hard fingers almost breaking bone. “Ask me to stay,” he breathed, chaos of the yard falling away. “Ask me to go with you, and I will.”

Daichi stared up at him, tongue dry, heart an earthquake. He wanted…

He reached up with his free hand to brush fingertips over Kuroo’s cheek. “No.” He scratched back into Kuroo’s hair, thumb tracing the ridges of Kuroo’s ear. Kuroo clenched his eyes shut. “You belong out there, with them.”

Kuroo sucked in a rattling breath – let it out in a whoosh. “Thank you,” he whispered, grip loosening around Daichi’s arm. Daichi cupped his neck – dropped his hand. Kuroo blinked his eyes open, sunrise smile blooming. “I really love you, puppy,” he breathed. Daichi swallowed.

“Yeah. Same.” Kuroo snorted and ducked in to press his mouth to Daichi’s temple, but Daichi grabbed him by the ears, smashing their mouths together hard enough to hurt. Kuroo groaned and bent Daichi back with the force of his assault, nose digging into his cheek. Daichi’s head swam – something wet dropped on his cheek-

“Hey boss! Stop making out with your boyfriend and get your ass over here!”

Daichi popped away at Ryuu’s harsh baw, panting in Kuroo’s face. “We should go.”

Kuroo gasped for breath, eyes shining too much in the early morning light. “Yeah.” He put Daichi back on his feet, patted his shoulder. “Till next time, puppy.”

Daichi smiled. “I’m- looking forward to it.” Kuroo rocked on his heels – yanked away. One curt nod, and he marched off after his crew, ponytail swinging. He didn’t look back.

Somehow, Daichi managed to drag himself across the yard and up on the driver’s seat next to Ryuu, Bokuto on the other side with the reins. Ryuu slid into his side, arm loose around his waist and body warm. Bokuto called out, “A’ight! Move out!” The animals and their people creaked to follow, Bokuto barely snapping the reins for the dragon-moose to take the lead, leaving the trampled innyard behind.

The mouth of the Green River felt like a different body than the shining grey ribbon that carved the canyon of Wakunan South to the north. This close to the delta it lived up to its name, algae-green water moving so slow it was hard to tell at a glance. The breeze slacked off as they left the saltwater bay behind, leaving a clinging wet heat that soaked their clothes and coated their throats. Twisted oak trees hung over the flat road, draped in hanging lichen that brushed the top of the camelephant’s palanquin when she reached up to snag leaves with her furry trunk. At least the trees offered some shade, dappled sunlight flickering over Daichi’s knees as the road curved in and out of sight of the water, always out of reach, separated from them by muddy marsh and tall grass.

Bokuto and Ryuu kept up easy, light conversation, about the weather, the animals, tending to them, the road behind and the road ahead. They didn’t force Daichi to interact, but when he had a question or a comment, they both jumped to answer or laugh at a weak joke. He would have to yell at them for pitying him without trying to hide it. Tomorrow.

The rest of Seijoh wandered up and down the bumpy column, asking questions about their transport and making friends with human and animal alike. Kenma’s orange friend had decided that Tobio was his new favorite perch, sitting on his shoulders and guiding him by his hair no matter what Tobio did to shake or scare him off. The two girls took to Tooru like moths to a flame, letting him practice his rusty flirting as they covered him in sparrowkeets and cackled when he shrieked about bird poop on his nice clothes. Hajime found the highest point on the camelephant’s back to watch the parade from, her short and square driver yelling bad jokes up at him and daring to make her dance. Yuutarou had found the camelephant’s baby and couldn’t stop cooing over him, who was almost his height at the shoulder and wearing his own pack of provisions for the humans. Akira and the tan-clothed youngest raced when the road allowed them to, Akira on a different one of the variegated ostrich-horses each time they passed and the other (Bokuto called him Unagi, but that couldn’t be right) on something that looked like a cat-deer but longer, both of them outstripped by a skinny grass-green eel-hound and her smirking rider. Issei was driving the other dragon-moose cart with the snake-weasel charmer who had performed during Tooru’s party the night before, meeting the creatures while Takahiro was decidedly not meeting them, instead marveling at the sugar geckos stuffed in the burly giant’s pocket. Ukai’s North Pole body was having trouble with the humidity, so he hid in the walled carriage for the day and chattered with the brother of the yellow-horsetail siblings through the wood.

All in all, it was an easier adjustment than the first day on the Nekoma, but Daichi was still detached, separated by his chicken-pig skin from the minglings of these two sheep-goat herds. Ryuu slid away from his side when they started to stick, so he floated, head lost in the moss and vines tangling up the forest around them, stomach churning, lip worrying. This would pass. It had to.

They stopped for the night at a collection of houses set across the road, about as much of a town as the trading post on the icemelt lake. They were accepted with open, happy arms, the larger animals put out to pasture with the hippo-cows and the smaller housed in the communal barn. They were invited to the chief’s house for dinner, but Daichi wasn’t quite ready to go inside, instead slipping away from the pack to find his fox-dog. She had been wearing herself out all day, running up and down the line as she made friends, but now her dusty white fur was nowhere to be seen. She wasn’t in the barn, or in the first pasture, but he found her in the smaller one behind it, curled up between the sprawled legs of one of those long cat-deer, its coat sand-yellow and spotted with irregular black circles.

He sighed and sat on the fence, kicking his feet and watching them both sleep, wrapped around each other like lovers on a red silk bed. He rubbed at his eyes. This was so silly. It’s not like they had broken up, or had a fight, or anything terrible. They just were separated. For an unknown period of time. With no plans to reunite and no way to communicate. He dug the heels of his hands harder into his eyes.

He had no idea how long he sat on that fence, barely holding his exploding chest in, gasping for breath as bugs chirped and hummed and the animals slept. He knew it was a while before he heard gravel crunching and grass swishing.

“You seem to have a knack for worrying people.” Daichi took his hands off his sore eyes as Bokuto hopped up on the fence next to him, smiling at the pretty picture in the paddock. “Everyone’s sick with it that you haven’t come in to dinner.”

Daichi swallowed. “Oh. I’m sorry.” His hands fell to his lap. Gold sunset light glinted off Kuroo’s ring. He shivered. “Just not ready to talk to people,” he muttered.

“I get it. I was pretty beat up the first time I had to let Kuroo go back to the sea, too.” Bokuto sighed. “But, he’s a sailor, and we’re just little ol’ landlubbers. It is what it is.”

Daichi spun the ring around his finger. The skin under it was red from a day of spinning. “Sorry I took all his time while y’all got to see each other.”

“What? Oh, no way, don’t worry ‘bout it!” Bokuto punched his arm with a wide laugh. “As long as my people are happy, I’m happy.” Daichi almost smiled at his hands. “’Sides, anyone with eyes could tell y’all are over the moon for each other. I’d be a homewrecker to drag that apart.”

Daichi bit his lip, ears hot. “Thanks, I guess.” He sighed and looked up at the sky, orange ahead and deep blue above. “Guess I should go in and stop letting people worry about me.”

“It’s up to you, my man.” Daichi glanced over at Bokuto’s open face and round eyes. “I can make up some cover story if y’all need.”

Daichi smiled, for real. “I appreciate it. But I think it’s time to pick myself up and stop moping.” Bokuto laughed and slapped him on the back, almost knocking him into the pasture grass. Snowflake’s ear twitched, but she didn’t get up from her nap spot in the spotted side. Daichi cleared his throat and gestured at her. “She okay to leave out here?”

“Oh, sure.” Bokuto tilted his head at the odd couple. “More than okay. Cheetah-gazelles are notoriously skittish. The rest of the herd has warmed up to us, but that little filly’s been a challenge to train. Surprised she hasn’t tried to run off yet, but I guess this is her family.” He slapped his knees. “They’re some of the fastest animals in the Great Desert, but they always look at yah like you killed their mama and’re coming for them next.” Daichi snorted. Bokuto waved a large hand in the animals’ direction. “I’ve heard about them liking dogs before, though, but I ain’t never had a cross when we had a herd in the train. Good test. She can’t be much older than your pup, after all. Just a slip of a thing when we caught the herd.”

They watched them sleep in silence for a moment before Bokuto slapped his knees again and swung them over the fence to jump back to ground. “Welp, I’m starving.” He tilted his head at Daichi, large gold eyes reminding Daichi uncannily of the animals he trained. “Coming or going?”

Daichi smiled and nodded. “Yeah. I’m coming.”

It was set to take a week and a half to travel upriver to Wakunan South. The terrain got bumpy by the time Daichi almost felt like himself again, talking to his travel companions and learning names beyond faces. Fukurodani were pleasant escorts, entertaining on the hot road and knowledgeable about the local environment, people, and of course, fauna. They were showboats at the core, making their animals perform each evening for tips and treats. Yukie kept the group on track and supplied, but Bokuto was the sun they revolved around, his outdoor-only voice and spit-sticky hair a beacon at the head of the train.

Snowflake was a natural at performing. Bokuto drafted her into their ensembles and taught Daichi how to teach her fancy tricks like backflips and howling in tune while also using the filly cheetah-gazelle’s affection for her new friend to try and introduce human touch through Snowflake’s favorite person. It was fun, and different, and distracting. Between the hole in his heart, the shrinking time left on this trip, and the awkward sidestepping Hajime and Tooru did around Daichi, he appreciated every distraction.

Daichi wasn’t the only one who got sucked into Fukurodani’s circus acts. The fast friends across party lines were built on rehearsing and performing them. Tonight’s entertainment had Takahiro’s pockets stuffed with adorable sleeve pets that swarmed him with a whistle from Washio, twisting like Akaashi’s snake-weasels around Issei’s long arms while the locals oohed and aahed. Hajime had already done his spider-monkeying around Leila the camelephant as Komi, her trainer, stood her on her hind legs and blew confetti over the crowd with her trunk. Daichi and Snowflake had the night off, her tired little butt already asleep behind the open-sided stable with the cheetah-gazelles. Daichi watched the show from the shadows to the side, tapping his toes to Akaashi’s flute as their local audience clapped on the beat. The snake-weasels rattled their tails, the white and the black ones doing handstands on Issei’s outstretched hands while the gray curled in his loose hair and hissed over his head. It did make for a dramatic picture, unlike Takahiro, who was squirming and giggling under the onslaught of sticky feet.

Daichi covered a yawn with his hand. He had forgotten how much being outside all day in land humidity drained him. Maybe if he slipped away to bed now no one would notice…

He had only backed away a few steps before someone slammed into him and knocked him back to where he started. “Hide me,” Tooru’s voice whined into the dip between his shoulderblades. Daichi’s breath hitched.

“What? Why?”

“The girls want me to be a bird perch,” he moaned, nuzzling into Daichi further, arms around his waist and hair tickling his neck. He must have been drinking with Komi and Sarukui the race-animal trainer, who got some sick joy out of watching Tooru’s lightweight ass trying to keep up. “I don’ wanna be a bird perch, Dai!”

Daichi sighed even as his pulse rattled his brain. “C’mon, you lump, let’s find Hajime and get you to bed.” He pried Tooru’s octopus-squid arms from around his middle and turned, and Tooru’s face was flushed red and bright-eyed and right there and this was a bad bad bad place to be. He swallowed on his dry throat, still holding Tooru’s wrists, ungloved for once and softer than anyone’s skin had a right to be. Tooru blinked at him, lips parted. They hadn’t been close enough to touch in days – not since the island. Tooru’s hanging fingers brushed the inside of Daichi’s wrists-

Familiar female laughter carried over the yard during a break in the flute music. Tooru’s eyes blew wide, and Daichi did the only thing he knew to do this far from shelter and with danger imminent. He spread his stance and dropped them into the ground, closing it overhead. Tooru swallowed a shriek, clinging to him, breath hot on Daichi’s face in the sudden darkness and muffled silence. Daichi held him stable, breathing harder than the action required. “Sorry,” he whispered. Tooru shook his head, hair sliding over Daichi’s cheek.

“S’fine. Works.” His arms squeezed Daichi’s neck. “You always find me that third option.” He hiccupped, rotten whiskey breath in Daichi’s face. “How long are we gonna be down here?” he muttered.

Daichi blinked in the black. “I hadn’t thought that far.” He didn’t need to, but he closed his eyes and reached out to find the beaten topsoil and wood stakes of the stable. “I could tunnel us over to the stables.”

Tooru huffed. “You’re such a badger-mole, dear.” He sighed and buried his face in Daichi’s neck, setting his skin on fire and straightening his spine like a fencepost. “We could just stay here,” he crooned, “Forever. Until morning. Whenever.”

“We’ll run out of air way before then.” They were still close enough to the surface to hear the distant rumbles of the show, Akaashi’s flute blending into the hand drums that the bird-trainer siblings used to guide their flock. “Seems like you might be safe now,” he whispered. The lack of light made this both easier to handle and harder to resist, Tooru’s body heat screaming at him to do something. He gripped Tooru’s waist-

And shoved him away, disconnecting Tooru’s latches. “We- we shouldn’t…”

Tooru’s loose hands on his shoulders snagged in his hemp choker (one of Kuroo’s favorite holds; his blood boiled on reflex). “Shouldn’t what?” His fingers tightened. “This?” He hauled Daichi forward – his mouth missed Daichi’s, hitting his cheek, the slash of the scar there from his and Hajime’s beach exhibition – his mouth searched-

Daichi’s body moved faster than his mind. Before he could think, he pushed Tooru away, gasping as Tooru fell against the side of their hole with a thump. He opened their hole and shoved Tooru out of it with a stomp and a pop, closing it to catch his feet when they landed. He could hear Tooru screeching, the hand drums, the cheers of the crowd, unaffected by the reappearing merchant out of the light of torches and lightning bugs. Tooru stamped overhead, dirt rattling down into Daichi’s hair. “Daichi!”

Daichi wiped the back of his hand over his wet cheek, shoved the heel of his hand into his wet eye. He couldn’t do this.

He punched out the tunnel to the stables and ran.

Daichi slipped through shadows and back kitchen doors (like Hajime had taught him) after the too-close encounter to hide in his and Ryuu’s room, hands shaking the whole way. He should have known this was coming – they had been building to something for ages – but he never wanted it like that. For the first time in a long, long while, he felt out of place, adrift, alone. He didn’t know what to do, and his usual go-tos for talking issues out were involved or unavailable.

He wanted to talk to Kuroo, desperately, hear his low voice in his hair telling him it would be okay and massaging the knots out of his back as he told stories about people Daichi would never meet and buried heat in his deep tissue. He clutched a pillow to his chest and gasped for air, propped up on the wall the straw pallet of tonight’s bed was pushed against, eyes clenched shut. He could still hear the music of the Fukurodani performance outside, the claps on the beat and the occasional animal noise. He could go back out there, pretend like everything was fine, that he hadn’t just seen more cards from a- a- whatever Tooru even was in his life anymore- than either of them had meant to show, that he didn’t feel like more hole than human. He could.

He flopped down on the pallet and hid his soggy face in his pillow until he fell into a rough sleep.

Tooru didn’t look at him the next day. They had been doing a decent job of staying clear of each other without being suspicious for the week before, so no one but them noticed, but Daichi felt too big for his bones, swollen and clumsy. He hated this.

Bokuto was solo on the drivers’ bench next to him today, Ryuu having abandoned them for a day of falconry with the bird siblings in the meadows along the road. He whistled nonsense as the dragon-moose plodded up a long, steady incline, the river just out of sight like always but protected from view by high banks as well as trees, not quite deep enough to be a canyon yet. Daichi watched the clouds pass through the leaves, maple and ash instead of the gnarled oak of the coast. It was probably going to rain later. He spun Kuroo’s ring around his finger.

“Y’know, you really do remind me of Kuroo sometimes.” Daichi blinked over at Bokuto, who was smiling that big kid-smile at him. “He thinks real loud like that when he’s upset, too.”

Daichi sighed, running a hand down his face. “Sorry, Bo, I just… had a rough night. S’nothing on you.”

“Well I knew that.” He knocked Daichi’s shoulder with his. “Just seein’ if it was something you needed to talk out or not.” Daichi looked away from the sun of his face and down at his hands, tracing the stub of his thumbnail around the design of Kuroo’s ring.

“I know I should. I’m usually the one pressuring people to talk about their feelings.” Bokuto chuckled. “But it’s… delicate.” He tugged at the hemp around his neck, tight and present today like it hadn’t been since he first tied it on. “I’m terrified that saying it out loud will – break something, or something.”

Bokuto hummed, propping his feet on the kickboard in front of them. “It probably won’t, but I get being scared.”

Daichi nodded, chewing on his lip. “Nothing on you, but I miss talking to Kuroo.” He tugged on his ear until it hurt. “It would be nice, s’all.”

Bokuto slapped his own forehead. “Duh! I’m an idiot!” Daichi tilted his head as Bokuto gripped his shoulder with a grin. “Man, I write to him all the time! The Konohas love to use the ship to train up their messenger hawks! It’d be no problem at all to add yours in!”

Something fluttered in Daichi’s chest. “Really?”

“Oh, sure! Kuroo gets mad if I don’t, since he taught me how to read’n’write for it an’ all.” His face fell in a frown, stroking his stubble-spotted chin. “Hmm, I guess later you can send yours to our drop spot in Wakunan, and I’ll pick ‘em up when we stop by…” His eyes lit up again with a wide grin. “Yeah! This’ll work!” He dove into the body of the wagon, Daichi fumbling to catch the dropped reins before they slipped off to drag in the dirt. Bokuto popped back up a few seconds later with a gearbag even rattier than Hajime’s and a smile. “Here!” He dug in it and shoved a small roll of ricepaper, a brush, and a travel inkwell in Daichi’s arms. “If you don’t want to talk to me ‘bout it, go ahead and write it out!” He beamed. “I’m real bad at it, but it helps me get my head straight when it’s got issues.” He cocked his head when Daichi didn’t move. “What, can you not write, neither?”

Daichi shook his head. “No, no I can, I just…” He sighed. “Okay.” Bokuto crowed and stamped his feet, and Daichi couldn’t stop a laugh. “Don’t get so excited, it’s just a letter.” But Bokuto ignored him, taking the reins back and flicking the dragon-moose to a faster pace, the rest of the train groaning behind them. Daichi smiled and slithered to sit at their feet so he could use the bench as a table, using the inkwell and his left arm to hold the paper down.

Kuroo-

This was Bokuto’s idea. He’s way too excited about being our letter carrier. Something’s loose in this guy’s head, but I like him all the same. Thanks for the rec, it’s been a fun trip. Even Tobio made friends a friend.

There’s something I want to talk about, but I don’t know where to start. Tooru tried to kiss me last night. Well, he kind of did, but it was dark and he missed and he’s anyway. I’m not an idiot, I know it didn’t come from nowhere, but I’m so confused about what I’m supposed to do. He and Hajime are a pretty big thing, and I’ll swim in the ocean before I hurt that. I’m afraid I will. I’m terrified, Kuroo. Why does stuff like this keep happening to me? Besides, even if we did try to do something, we’re almost home, and I’ll have to go back home and not see them until next year. It’s terrible timing. This trip was a mistake

I miss you. I didn’t know I could miss someone as terrible as you like this. You owe me a month of backrubs next time we see each other for all you’re putting me through. Maybe, if you’re good, you’ll get some in return.

I’m scared to go home. I’m scared I’m too different to pick tea again. I’m scared that now that I’ve started moving I won’t be able to stop. I don’t like being scared. It can stop whenever. Take it back.

Bo’s getting antsy to send this out, and I’m running out of space. I’ll write smaller next time and not on a moving wagon. Hope you can read most of this. Might be okay if you can’t.

Love you.

Daichi

Chapter Text

Wakunan South looked exactly the same as it did four months ago. They arrived from a different angle, but the ornate etching on the bridge, the giant marble keystone in the middle, the whitewash with dusty brown trim and sharp smiles, it was all still standing. Daichi’s eyes caught on the big house on the far end of the bridge, the wide veranda crawling with vines from below. He tried to look down and see if he could spot the old cliffside dungeon Tadashi had been held in, but the vertigo kicked him away from the edge before he could look long enough. By the time his nausea was under control, they were in the town and out of sight of the canyon depths.

Fukurodani had friends on the west bank with plenty of open grazing land and an affection for their variety of beasts. They unpacked and made friends while Tooru and Hajime disappeared to go across the bridge alone and see if the other half of their party had arrived at the rendezvous yet. Not that Daichi noticed. It wasn’t like he had been keeping an eye on their every move so they never were close enough to talk or anything. His shoulders relaxed when their casual bickering faded from earshot, though, and he hated it. But he put on a smile as the cheetah-gazelle nudged his shoulder, trying to hide behind him from the new strangers, and Snowflake yipped at their feet. He reached back and scratched between her antler nubs as her purr almost knocked him off his feet. Bokuto kept saying she wasn’t full grown yet, but she was already up to her parents’ shoulders and all leg. She would be a monster to whoever she was sold to.

“She really likes you.” Sarukui came up to let her sniff his hand, waiting her shyness out as his eternal cat’s-smile stayed fixed. “I managed to talk Bokuto down from straight up giving her to you, but if you want, when y’all come back through, she’s yours.” She licked his fingers, rough tongue scratching his skin. “She’s still too young to leave the herd, y’see, but if you wanna put a down payment on her now, I’ll make sure to train her up for a big guy like you.”

Daichi blinked at him, words filtering through his funk. “Wait.” Sarukui’s eyes twinkled. “You want to give her to me?”

“Well I don’t. We gotta feed everyone, after all.” He rubbed down her neck, fluffing up her spiky white mane. “But our dear leader’s got a soft spot for tricksy animals who find their human.” He nodded at the fluffball at their feet. “Besides, you’ve kept her alive on a Fire Navy ship. You can’t be too bad with animals.”

“Well, thank you.” He cleared his throat, hand on her damp muzzle. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Money is a form of speech.” He patted her flank and stepped away. “I’ll get Yukie to draw out what she’ll cost us until next summer. Think that should work?”

Daichi thought. He and Ryuu had barely touched their allotted spending money, relying on the Oikawa name and personal favors instead, so… “Yes.” He turned to scratch her ears, cup her slim cheeks. She purred, bumping the long line of her nose into his chest. “Yes, I’ll take her.”

“Excellent.” Sarukui tucked some curly hair behind his ear, cheeks round with his smile. “Think of a name while I talk to Yukie, hah?” Daichi nodded, staring into her yellow-green eyes, pupils slits in the bright light. Snow pressed hard into his leg, panting at his thigh. Didn’t she used to be knee-high?

He dropped a hand for her to scratch herself with, fingers digging into fluff. “Snow, your friend needs a good name, don’t she?” She barked, and he smiled. The cheetah-gazelle yowled, shaking her head, the shake rolling all the way down to her long tail, sunlight glinting off her fur. Daichi chuckled and scratched under her chin. “Okay, Sunbeam,” he said, ruffling her ear. “I’ll be back for you.” She purred like thunder, and he laughed.

Tooru and Hajime returned after only an hour or so with the cavalry. Their mountain-traveling counterparts had gotten to Wakunan South almost a week before, and were bored and ready to get going. Daichi was happier than he thought he could be to get slapped on the back by the drivers, fussed over by an even fluffier Shigeru, or laugh at Ken’s one bug eye at the exotic animals in their company. The Bokutos were polite and professional as they were introduced to Irihata, who was as solid as ever and not even a wrinkle worse for the wear. That professionalism lasted until Bokuto caught sight of Happy, who had refused to let Tooru out of her sight once she saw him and had to be brought along, but Irihata took it in stride. Ryuu used what was left of their dramatically-depleted spending money to pay off a smiling Shinji over their ‘who would get there first’ bet, too happy to cry about it as he slung his partner in baldness over his shoulder and ran around the yard, whooping and hollering. It was good to be home.

Their other half hadn’t been idle in their days of waiting. They had already acquired replacement wagons for the ones they had sold to the earthquake recovery crew, bringing them along to load them without delay and free up Fukurodani to leave whenever the wind called them. It took most of the day to move from packs to wagons, both sides pitching in and laughter as present as the dragon-cricket chirping. The performers promised to meet them in town that evening for one last night out before the final wagon headed back to the city inn.

Daichi and Shigeru had to work together to haul Ken away from the animals, but he gave up the struggle to pet the falcons once they were out of sight and had to focus on traffic so they didn’t get trampled. They had fallen behind the rest, but they had time, directions, and a nice day, so it wasn’t terrible. Shigeru regaled Daichi with stories of their mountain adventures, moose-lion stalkers and sword lessons and a tangle with those hill bandits again, kicking Ken for a grunted comment every other sentence. Daichi listened and laughed when he was supposed to, Snowflake tight at his heels as they wove through the sidewalk crowd. She got a few waves and gasps from the kids they passed, making her prance and preen. He kept a hand on her head, ready to grab for her collar. This was the most people she had been around since the North Pole, after all. But she kept to her commands and stayed with him, not even tempting him to dig out her little-used lead. “Good girl,” he crooned while Shigeru and Ken bickered about details concerning a buzzard-wasp nest. She barked, tongue lolling out with her panting. Fukurodani had helped him shave her down to a summer cut, but she was still fluffy and furry. He should see if Yuutarou would give her a bath-

“Puppy!” He turned to the scream as a boy broke away from his group to run over to Snowflake. Daichi snagged her collar as her butt wagged with her tail, straining to meet her admirer as the kid fell to his knees in front of her to scratch her ears, laughing. He looked up – gasped. “Mr. Daichi!”

Daichi grinned as he took a knee, Ken and Shigeru pausing behind him. “Hey, Ren. Nice to see you again.” The youngest Nakashima beamed, new teeth missing since last time. Snowflake slobbered all over his face as his escorts caught up, panting for breath.

“Ren, please, stop running away like that!” Daichi shook his hair out of his eyes and glanced up at a breathless Takeru Nakashima, a servant in the family colors right behind him. Takeru registered his face and narrowed his eyes. “Sawamura.”

“Nakashima.” Daichi glared at Snowflake when she pulled too hard on his arm and clicked his tongue. She sat back, still wiggling to love on Ren. “Snow, be polite.” He smiled at a starry-eyed Ren. “Ren, this is Snowflake,” he said. “She’s an arctic fox-dog.”

Ren giggled as she sniffed his hands. “She’s great!”

“I guess this means that the head of the Oikawa snake is here at last, huh?” Takeru drawled. Shigeru growled behind Daichi, but he frowned and stood, hand signaling the hold behind his back as he towered over Takeru, who scowled. Daichi smiled.

“If you mean Tooru, then I guess you’re right.” He tilted his head. “We’ve been here since this morning, actually. Don’t you know what’s going on in your town?”

Takeru cut a smile at him that didn’t reach his eyes. “Watch it, farmhand. Just because we let you off easy last time…”

Daichi raised an eyebrow. “Is that right?” He smiled. “Well, I guess it was kind of you to let Tadashi travel with us, no matter how much it pained you.” He glanced over his shoulder at Shigeru and Ken, who jumped. “Speaking of, didn’t y’all say y’all ran into Tadashi on your way back?” Ken nodded, Shigeru opening a hand.

“Oh, sure, him and those firefighter siblings tagged along for a spell. Seemed to be doing fine.” Shigeru looked to the sky in an aborted eyeroll and muttered, “You big dad.”

Daichi ignored that last comment and crossed his arms, watching Takeru’s face contort. “Whatever,” Takeru grumbled through his scowl. “Tell Oikawa we’ll have lunch tomorrow,” he snapped.

“Can Mr. Daichi come?” Ren asked, cheek buried in Snowflake’s ruff. “He has a fox-dog, Tak!”

Takeru’s lips thinned, but he growled, “Fine. You’re invited as well, Sawamura.” He jerked his thumb at the cuddling at their feet. “And bring the mutt so he’ll be happy.”

Daichi nodded and held out his arm – shit, that was a Water Tribe thing, not Earth Kingdom. Takeru gave it a weird look, but held his own out anyway for Daichi to clasp. Daichi grinned. “See you then.”

“You absolutely cannot wear that.”

Daichi looked down at himself – he looked like normal, deep blue shirt under his spare, slightly less ragged tunic, dusty pants tucked into his Water Tribe boots. Sure, he was still a little hungover from the last night out with Fukurodani before they rode on this morning, but that wasn’t a visible error. He looked up at Tooru, scowling from across the landing of the floor Seijoh had overtaken at the inn and perfect in his forest green and white. Daichi bit his lip. “Why not?”

“Because,” Tooru sighed, not quite looking him in the eye as he stomped over, “We’re here to make an impression. You can’t do that if you look like you got dragged across the world and back.”

A smile tugged at him. “But I did get dragged across the world and back.”

Tooru’s nostrils flared. “But you don’t have to look it!” He crossed his arms. “What happened to that coat I got you last time?”

Daichi grimaced, scratching the back of his hot neck. “Well…” He cleared his throat. “It split.”

Tooru frowned. “It what?”

Daichi heaved a sigh. “Look, I tried to put it on, but it must have shrunk or something because it-” He gestured at his shoulders. “Didn’t fit here. Ripped right down the back before I even got it on.” And didn’t Ryuu have a laugh at that. Asshole.

Tooru blinked, then laughed, clutching his stomach. “Dai- Daichi, you’re a mess!” Daichi’s face heated, but Tooru just grabbed his shoulders, squeezing them with a wide grin on his face. “You’ve grown, dear, not the other way around!”

Daichi leant back on his heels, heatwaves crashing over him as Tooru kept laughing in his face. “Are you calling me fat?” he squeaked out. Tooru laughed harder, head knocking on Daichi’s shoulder.

“No!” Tooru wiped his face on Daichi’s tunic – jerked back, shoulders still shaking but not touching him anymore. “You’re wider, not fatter.” He jabbed a punch at Daichi’s bicep, a flicker of a touch. “What, you think these didn’t come with a price?” He sighed with the end of his laughter and waved back down the hall. “Come on, farmboy,” he called as he led the way back, “let’s see if I’ve got something your muscleman shoulders can fit into for an afternoon. The Nakashimas can stew for another minute.” Daichi rubbed the back of his neck harder, trying to work the heat out, and followed.

Lunch was almost a let-down, just Tooru and Takeru posturing over appetizers and insulting each other with comments that flew right over Daichi’s head as he tried to pretend that he wasn’t still hungry after four courses. Tooru’s tunic was heavy, thankfully not a solid white but high-collared and odd. How did Tooru wear this many layers all the time? Al least Ren and Snowflake were having a good time running around in the courtyard outside the thin-rock windows (one of the servers told him it was called ‘mica’). Daichi backed Tooru up when prompted, but otherwise he picked at the fancy food and counted down the seconds until they could leave.

The rich kids finally struck a deal over dessert, the Nakashimas taking the hash from the island as the Oikawa toll to foist off on some other merchants instead of giving them something to transport. Tooru at least had the good graces to wait until they left the mansion, Ren waving out an open front window before he got snatched back in, to start whistling. Daichi rolled his eyes. “Someone’s too proud of themselves.”

Tooru laughed, head thrown back. “I am! It’s nice when I get to follow through on an idea by myself!” He elbowed Daichi, barely grazing his arm. “Thanks for coming with me,” he said, keeping a fox-dog’s distance between them for Snowflake to trot in as they walked down the sidewalk towards their inn. “I know you weren’t happy, but having you around kept me on topic.”

“You and I have a different idea of ‘on topic’.” Tooru grinned, and Daichi’s chest filled with butterfly-bee wings. He groaned and looked away, tugging at his stiff collar as Snowflake bounded ahead a few steps to inspect a flowerbed. “Ugh, I’m starving.”

“A growing boy needs his energy!” Daichi snapped a foot out to kick just above Tooru’s knee – Tooru gasped and almost fell, Daichi’s stomach twisting as he rushed to catch him.

“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry, I forgot-”

“Dear, please.” Tooru panted for breath, brow furrowed, clutching Daichi’s arms hard enough to hurt. “Don’t cause a scene.”

Daichi nodded. “Sure, sure.” He watched Tooru’s face, the white circle around his open mouth, the teeth grinding barely audible over the street noise. Snowflake came back to whine at their feet, tapping a paw on Daichi’s foot. “Can you walk?”

“Please.” Tooru forced a smile, cracking an eye. “I have my dignity, after all.”

Daichi swallowed, caught in his brown sugar suntan and cinnamon stare. (He really was hungry.) “Right. Your dignity.” Tooru blinked, and the spell was broken, both of them breaking away and pulling their clothes straight as Snowflake whimpered and danced. Tooru waved a hand at a passing concerned couple when they asked if he was okay, Daichi’s face on fire as he soothed his panicky fox-dog. The skin around Tooru’s eyes was still tight when the couple kept passing, so Daichi held out his arm. “Here.” Tooru blinked at it, and Daichi turned to look at the flowerbed Snowflake had just marked. “If you need some support.”

Tooru laughed, a quiet chuckle. “Why, thank you, dear.” His fingers touched down on the back of Daichi’s wrist, the rest of his forearm falling along its line. Daichi chomped down on his cheek and led the way, keeping a slow pace so Tooru could lean on him with each step, pace steadying as they went.

They left Wakunan South the next day, a full caravan once more as they rumbled out of town and along the opposite bank of the Green River from their trip up. Daichi expected it to feel odd to be back on a wagon bench with Ryuu behind familiar ostrich-horse feathers, but he fell back into it as natural as breathing. It was still the same people as before, after all.

It was strange, how quickly Daichi’s life had changed to revolve around people he hadn’t met until a few months ago. He had spent his whole life at the Sugawara farm, surrounded by the same faces since infancy, but so many of them had blurred since he left. He couldn’t remember the details of Ryuu’s parents’ faces, what Chikara’s laugh sounded like, whether he had fallen out of the processing barn loft as a kid with Asahi or Yuu. Instead, his head was filled with the little eccentricities that formed this family, Takahiro’s freckles and the arch of the Kindaichi nose and the calloused satin of Tooru’s hands on his neck. It felt like a different life, a different world, a different him than used to exist. He was starting to wonder if it was a better one, or if he should have stayed at home after all.

He was lost in that thought the first few days of their reunited travel, a walking pair of eyes once more as he watched the trees thin out, watched Tobio marvel at the grass plains, Shigeru screech over every bump and bruise that happened on the Nekoma, the drivers inflate the size of their stories to match Takahiro and Ryuu’s increasingly flamboyant retellings. He smiled and listened, spinning his ring around his finger, feet buried in the earth whenever they touched down. He took to walking alongside their wagon, Ryuu yelling down at him and earth yelling up at him. He drowned in their sound and let it flood.

One evening stop, Hajime caught Daichi’s elbow as they dismounted in the innyard of the night. Daichi hadn’t known how he had missed that touch until he had it again. “Can you drop by Tooru’s room tonight after dinner?” Hajime asked, a low rumble. “Got an idea to run by you.”

Daichi’s pulse raced, pumping under the skin Hajime still held, but he nodded, staring into hazel-green eyes that wouldn’t let him go. “Sure.” The eyes smiled, dimple pressing into Hajime’s cheek before he let Daichi go and kept going to the stables.

Daichi ate light, stomach twisted smaller than normal. Tooru and Hajime hadn’t come down to the dining room that night. But then again, neither had Irihata, or half the drivers, or Ken. Maybe he was reading into it.

He made some excuse to Ryuu – he wasn’t sure what – and slipped upstairs, pausing at the door to the inn’s best room. He could hear low voices through it, Irihata’s bass counterpoint to Tooru’s tenor. He took a deep breath. Another. Knocked. The voices stopped.

Irihata answered, road-ragged but smiling. “Sawamura. Come in.” He stepped aside to allow Daichi to pass, then waved a hand at Tooru and Hajime, Tooru in an armchair by the hearth and Hajime perched on the arm. “I think it’s best if I leave you boys to talk,” he said, stepping out into the hall. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

“Mr. Nobu-!” But the door swung shut. Tooru’s outstretched hand fell into his lap. He sighed and gestured Daichi closer. “C’mon, we’re not going to accost you.”

Daichi frowned, but crossed the room to sit on the footstool shoved just out of Tooru’s easy reach. “What does ‘accost’ mean?”

“Assault. Hurt. Really, we need to get you some vocabulary lessons, dear.” Hajime shoved his shoulder, and Tooru sighed again, sitting forward with his elbows on his knees, fingertips pressed together. “I want you to hear me out before you answer this, okay?” Daichi nodded, but Tooru was watching his unmatched little finger wag against empty space. “I’m not sure if you know this, but in my family, our captains are more than just someone who bosses the guards around and jumps when we say. They’re – life partners. Rocks. My sister is married to hers.” Daichi’s heart was in his palms. “Mr. Nobu is Mama’s captain, on loan for this first trip to help me make connections and advise.” He looked up, pinning Daichi to the padded footstool. “And to help me pick my own.”

Daichi’s breath caught. “And you’re telling me this…”

Tooru sat back with a groan, knocking into Hajime where he had leant over behind him. “Of course, Mr. Nobu told me to pick Iwa-chan here, but we all know that he comes with baggage.” He cut his eyes at Hajime, who cleared his throat.

“I can’t go back to Ba Sing Se,” Hajime explained, voice scratchy. He tangled his fingers in the hair at the base of Tooru’s neck. Tooru closed his eyes and leant into the touch. Daichi pressed his sweaty palms together hard enough to make his arms shake. “If the Dai Li caught me there – and they would, if I showed up in such a high-profile role – I would probably disappear off the street one night with no one the wiser.”

“And an Oikawa captain isn’t just for the road,” Tooru said, still arching into Hajime’s hand. “I need someone with me in the city, to recruit, train, get all dressed up and go to fancy parties, trade-” He slapped Hajime’s hand away. “Stop distracting me, Iwa-chan!” Hajime chuckled, and Daichi smiled, some of the tension between his shoulders easing. Tooru shoved forward to grab Daichi’s hands, just as cold and calloused and sweaty as his. “I need you, Daichi.”

Daichi blinked, words clinking together in his head like ice in the ocean. “Me? You want me to- but I’m not even-”

“It doesn’t matter what you’re not!” Tooru squeezed his hands, strands of hair waving in his face with each breath. “I don’t care that you’re not a soldier, or not Seijoh, or not a city kid, or whatever nonsense you were about to say. It only matters what you are.” He bit his lip. “You’re- you’re my rock, Dai. You keep me grounded. I honestly don’t know if…” He swallowed – Daichi was close enough to hear it. “I’m terrified of doing this again without you,” he said, almost a whisper. “And I’ll do whatever you want to keep that from happening.”

Daichi stared into his eyes, trying to breathe and failing. Some distant part of him was screaming, his carefully-constructed indestructible future crumbling under this bright hammer. He didn’t have to worry if he wouldn’t fit in anymore at home. He could stay, stay with Seijoh, with this new world, meet new people, travel the world. He could stay with Tooru. He squeezed Tooru’s patient hands.

“This… this wouldn’t be a temporary thing, would it?” he asked, mouth barely moving. Tooru’s eyes crinkled.

“Now, c’mon, neither of us do things in halves. It’s all or nothing, dear heart.” Tooru’s wrists trembled from the strength of his fingers’ grip. “I know you don’t think you’re special,” he whispered, “but I could search the world over and never find someone like you.” He grinned, teeth white in his brown face, low firelight flickering in his eyes. “So?”

Daichi should think about this more, but Tooru was asking him to jump off a cliff for him, with him, and he was too far down this slippery slope to stop now. “Yes,” he said, shoulders falling, smile growing. “Of course I’ll be your captain.”

Tooru lip up, eyes sparkling as he let out a victory “Ha ha!” and scooped Daichi up as he jumped to his feet, laughing as he spun them around. Daichi clung to him, stomach swooping with the room, legs tucked under one of Tooru’s arms. “I knew it!” He grinned in Daichi’s face, radiant and blooming. “I knew you would!”

Daichi grabbed his face and kissed him.

He panicked a few blinding seconds into it and popped away, gasping, eyes wide and mouth wet. “I- I- I’m-”

Tooru shook off his shock and kissed him again, still holding Daichi off the ground and swaying. Daichi melted, hands sliding back into Tooru’s hair, headband slipping off so he was wrist-deep in fluff. Tooru licked into his mouth, lips soft as his teeth grazed Daichi’s lip. Daichi pressed in harder, holding Tooru’s head still so he could get in closer, the whole world concentrated into this one moment, Tooru’s hand splayed over his back, groan rumbling through his stomach…

“Hey.” Tooru pulled away, lip by lip, eyes hazy, lashes fluttering. “Let him down, handsy.”

Lightning shot through Daichi. He stiffened in Tooru’s arms even as he was lowered to his feet, Tooru’s other arm still firm around his waist. Hajime waited at their side, toes tapping, eyebrows arched. Tooru grinned, huffing a little laugh down Daichi’s cheek. “Aw, shoot, I ruined it again, didn’t I, Iwa-chan?”

Hajime rolled his eyes. “Can’t bring you anywhere.” Tooru giggled, not letting go of Daichi no matter how much he pretended to struggle. Hajime smiled at him, green tea eyes soft, and Daichi stopped. “We were going to have two separate conversations about this,” he explained, taking Daichi’s loose hand (the other one still around Tooru) as he stepped forward into their space. “But, as always, y’all jumped on ahead.” He lifted Daichi’s hand to kiss the palm, brow furrowed. Daichi shivered, fingers curling around Hajime’s scratchy chin. He smiled, and Daichi felt it. Tooru pinned him close to his side, sun-warm. Daichi was warm.

“I…” He fought to talk through his tight throat as Hajime’s mouth trailed up to his fingers, down to his wrist. “I thought y’all weren’t going to accost me.”

Tooru barked a laugh, arm squeezing Daichi’s waist. “Well now, that’s up to you if you want to drag us to the courts for this.” He hesitated – pressed his face into Daichi’s hair, nose behind his ear. “And, before you can ask, no,” he whispered into Daichi’s jaw, “this wouldn’t be a temporary thing, either.”

Hair swished over his ear – he was nodding. Of course. “Of course,” he said, eyes tearing up without his permission. Hajime shushed him, holding his face in his hands to thumb them away before they could fall. Tooru pulled back to see, his own eyes red and shining. Hajime sighed.

“I thought I had help with the crybaby now,” he grumbled, "but now I’ve got two to deal with.” Daichi hiccupped on his laugh and threw his arms around Hajime’s neck, only half dislodging Tooru as he strangled Hajime, face in his collar and breathing it in. He smelled like home. Hajime patted his back until he got himself under control again, then nudged Daichi’s head around with his until their foreheads pressed together. He wove his fingers into the hair pulled tight by Daichi’s hairband, stuck under it. He looked into Daichi’s soul and said, “There’s no one else I could trust to keep Tooru safe.” He grinned. “Especially from himself.”

“Hey!”

Daichi laughed, and it was easy, really, to tilt his chin forward and kiss Hajime’s chapped mouth, rougher texture but a softer touch than with Tooru, less desperate. Hajime moaned, but Daichi pulled away and replied, “I love you, too.” Hajime flushed a deep red, all at once, shoving Daichi away and back into Tooru’s arms. They laughed as he glared at them both, fists at his sides. “Wow, you really turn red all over when you’re embarrassed,” Daichi commented as Tooru’s arms wound their way around his waist, chin on his shoulder. Tooru chuckled.

“You don’t know the half of it.” He turned his face to press his mouth to Daichi’s neck, and both Daichi and Hajime’s breath hitched. “You wanna find out more?” He smirked against Daichi’s jaw. “Captain?” Daichi grinned.

“You absolutely cannot wear that.”

Daichi looked down at himself. He was halfway into the same tunic he had been wearing for months, a little worn after all this time but still serviceable. He made sure to keep it clean, after all. He gave up and scowled at Tooru, who was half-dressed in the morning light and pouting his best. “And why not?”

“Because!” Tooru flapped his hand at it. “Those are Sugawara colors! You don’t work for them anymore!”

Daichi put his fists on his hips, tunic gathering at his wrists. “Oh yeah? Then what do you want me to wear? Nothing?”

“Wou’n’t mind,” Hajime grumbled from where he was still curled up in bed. Tooru rolled his head with his eyes, groaning across three octaves.

“You just – can’t!” He yanked his still-tied headband down and around his neck, then shook his hair back as he rolled it up into place. “I’ll go talk to Mr. Nobu, we’ve got to have some spare armor somewhere-”

“Gave i’ta Ken.” Hajime rolled over to squint at them in the slanting sunlight – of course the best room was east-facing. At least they got a warning before drill started. “Jus’ buck up an’ admi’ you think Dai’s hot in your clothes an’ lemme sleep.” Tooru gaped like a sucker-fish, but Hajime threw the covers over his head so only a few fingers and a tuft of dark hair showed.

Daichi grinned, the shining copper bubbles floating in his bloodstream since last night shining gold. “Oh, do you now?”

“It’s not that!” Tooru squeaked, voice cracking. “I just…” Daichi walked over to him, tossing his offensive Sugawara tunic aside as he went. Tooru watched his approach with wide eyes in a pink face. Daichi tugged the unclasped middle of Tooru’s tunic tighter, doing up the frog loops from the bottom up. Tooru’s breath gusted over his face. “You just look really good in teal.”

“Is that so?” He fastened Tooru’s tunic all the way to the collar, watching his fingers as Tooru watched his face. “This wouldn’t be some weird rich-kid obsession with marking your territory, would it?”

“No!” Daichi traced inside the top of his collar with his thumbs to even out any folds. Tooru shivered. “Maybe?”

Daichi chuckled and patted his cheek. “Pick something out, then.” Tooru beamed, kissed him quick and hard, and bounced off to his trunk, chattering at both of them as Daichi closed his eyes and stood in the sunshine.

Chapter Text

“My children, I have a quick announcement before we leave this fine morning!”

Daichi fidgeted in the hallway, tugging at the high collar of the tunic Tooru had picked out for him. Tooru kept talking around the corner, giving some flowery, pointless speech as Seijoh offered rude comments and heckles over it. Hajime laid a hand on Daichi’s elbow. “Calm down, love,” he said, Daichi’s heart already in his throat. He tucked some loose hair behind Daichi’s ear, ran his thumb over the scar he had given Daichi on his cheek. He smiled, and Daichi tried to smile back. “You’ll be fine.”

“It should be you,” his mouth blurted out without his permission. “Or- or Issei- someone who actually trained for this, I’m not-”

Hajime cupped his face, closing his jaw on his rambling. “No. It’s you. Tooru thinks so, Irihata thinks so, and I think so.” He kissed Daichi’s forehead, pressed his own to the damp spot. “I promise. I’ll be right behind you to make them be okay with it.”

Daichi took a deep breath, trying to force his stomach to untwist. “Okay.”

“…And so, may I present- your new captain!”

“Could he make this any more dramatic?” Daichi grumbled under the murmurings of the inn’s dining room. Hajime chuckled.

“You know our Tooru, all about appearances.” He got behind Daichi and pushed him forward, around the lip of the wall separating the hallway from view of the dining room.

Had there always been so many eyes in Seijoh? It seemed like more than possible when they were all staring at him, mutterings fallen into quiet shock at him decked out in Oikawa colors. He tried a smile and curled his fingers in a wave. “Morning, y’all.”

Takahiro was the first to recover, jumping to his feet fast enough to almost knock the rest of his bench to the floor. “Hah!” He propped a foot on the table and swung a point around with a grin. “Every single damn one a’ y’all owes me big time!” He leapt over the table and slid across the polished wood in his socks to slam into Daichi, laughing. He grabbed Daichi by the waist and spun him around, crying, “Bossman’s the bossman!”

“Whoa there,” Daichi said, laughter bubbling out of him. Takahiro put him down to shake his shoulders, screaming more about ‘bossman being the bossman’. The other guards and drivers on the closer tables swarmed forward, the moment of shock broken into excitement and congratulations. Daichi was overwhelmed by armor and backslaps, hands ruffling his bangs and tugging at his new tunic. Even Akira gave him a quick side-hug before running to hide from his emotions behind Yuutarou’s hair. Takahiro stayed stuck to his side, holding out his beltpurse for the unlucky everyone who bet against him to deposit his winnings in as they passed. “See, they all thought it’d be our Hajime over there,” Takahiro explained, arm tight around Daichi’s neck. “But I never lost faith in my bossman here.”

“You just liked the odds!” Issei shouted from the back. Everyone laughed as Takahiro showed him the back of both hands, strangling Daichi in the process.

“All right, all right, he’s no good to you if you kill him now,” Irihata said, wading through the masses with a smile. They gave him room around Daichi, Takahiro’s grip relaxing but not leaving. Irihata’s eyes narrowed as he stuck out his arm. “Welcome to the team, Captain Sawamura.”

Daichi gulped and clasped his arm. “An honor to be here, sir.”

“Okay, enough chitchat,” Tooru said, stepping down from his bench and flapping his crew away to give Daichi breathing room. “You’ll have enough time to give him grief later.” He took Takahiro’s vacated spot at his side and around his shoulders, lifting his chin at Irihata. “Mr. Nobu, if you please, make sure our fledgling member doesn’t get trampled before he can learn how to fly?”

“Of course.” Irihata twirled two fingers in the air, and Seijoh’s professionalism fell back into place with an almost audible clang, drivers and guards bubbling as they collected their gear and headed out. Irihata jerked his head at the door. “If you will?” Tooru patted his shoulder and shoved him forward. Daichi stumbled with it, frowned at him, then pulled himself together and followed Irihata out into the yard.

It was a whirlwind morning, details and commands flowing through his head in the heavy summer air. It was a relief when he was told they didn’t have a spare riding ostrich-horse and he would still have to ride on a cart or walk until they could buy one. He climbed up on the bench by Ryuu with a long sigh, Snowflake already asleep on the furs they were driving. Irihata remained in control of the caravan for the time being, but he promised to train Daichi up for it before they reached the wall; Daichi was starting to wonder if that was a threat. He wiped his face on his shoulder – winced. Would Tooru get mad at him for getting his clothes dirty?

“So. Moving on up, I see.” Daichi glanced over at Ryuu, his jaw set and eyes on the horizon under the brim of his floppy straw sunhat. Daichi’s stomach twisted.

“I- I’m-”

“You know what? It’s whatever.” He snapped the reins, teeth grit. “I’m happy for you.”

“Hey.” He set a hand on Ryuu’s shoulder, the stomach knot easing a bit when it wasn’t shaken off even though he ducked his head so the hat brim hid all but his frown. “Doesn’t matter where I go or what I do. I’m still me.” Ryuu grumbled, and Daichi smiled. “If you’re jealous,” he teased, “I can make my first act as captain to hire you.”

Ryuu tilted his chin up to look at him from the hat’s shadow, face unreadable for the first time ever. “You really would do that, wouldn’t you.”

Daichi nodded, brow furrowing. “Well, sure. I saw from the start how much the guys trust you, and you can obviously keep up with them in a fight.” He squeezed Ryuu’s shoulder. “Besides, I’d miss you if you didn’t come along.”

Ryuu swished it around for a while, long enough for Daichi to take his hand away and lean back on the bench, crossing his ankles over the kickboard. He was wearing his Water Tribe boots for now, but Tooru had already drawn up a list of wardrobe changes to be made, starting with riding boots all the way up to an ordered braid instead of his ponytail, woven in from halfway up his head so it would stay put. Tooru missed Hajime’s old hair, apparently.

“I think I’ll need to think ‘bout that a while.” Daichi looked over with a hum as Ryuu stretched his arms behind his head, knees straight so he was one long line hinged on the edge of the bench. “Not sure if I can tuck and run like you.” He yawned. “I like this crew n’all, but home’s family, y’know?”

Daichi swallowed the nasty retort welling up. He had a right to a few snaps, he guessed. “I know.” He bit his tongue. “It’s not like I’m going far,” he said. Ryuu shrugged.

“Not yet, maybe.” He sat forward, elbows on his knees, still not looking at Daichi. “Life’s weird sometimes. Never know where it’ll take you.” He huffed. “Just… next time, tell me when you’re not coming back to our room, ‘kay?”

Ah, hell. “Shit, Ryuu, I forgot… I didn’t expect- it was a weird night, and I-” He clammed up, face heating as last night flooded over him. “It was a really weird night,” he squeaked, cleared his throat. Ryuu glanced over – barked a laugh, slapping a hand over his mouth.

“Dai, your face!” Another laugh escaped as Ryuu punched at him, missing. “Stop it, I’m trying to be mad at you!”

“I’m sorry!” Daichi said through his own laughter. “But it was!”

“What, you get to fuck ‘em both at once?” All of Daichi’s skin was burning as he tried to hide it behind collar and hands. “Daichi! You fox-dog!” He didn’t miss his punch this time, falling on Daichi in a side tackle. The ostrich-horses chuffed and sidled as their reins got tugged too much to one side. Ryuu slung them around their knot holder so he could ruffle Daichi’s hair. “Should’ve known that’s what y’all were up to!” Daichi shoved at his stomach, neck on fire but ribs aching as he struggled for breath, still laughing. Ryuu squished his cheeks together, making him cough instead of laugh. Ryuu let him go and slung an arm along the bench back behind Daichi, leaning into his side and kicking his feet up. “Well, you ain’t never picked the easy road.”

“I guess not.” Daichi took the reins from their holder to tug Peng away from some roadside grass. “But it always feels right.” Ryuu hummed. Daichi knocked his shoulder into Ryuu’s. “Now’s the time when you’re supposed to yell at me about how no one can deserve me,” he jabbed with a grin. Ryuu hummed more, almost a full bar of one of their road songs.

“I think I’ll make an exception this time.” Daichi blinked. “The shithead’s a shithead, and Iwaizumi’s a devil to know, but if anyone was gonna be worthy, it’s them.” He tugged on Daichi’s braid. “You’re walking on dangerous waters, though, datin’ the bossman,” he warned. Daichi scratched his neck.

“Yeah, you’re right.” He glanced up the train to the pale grey blob of Happy, Tooru’s hair a spot of brown over ocean blue. “Still. I want to do this.”

“Then you should.” He tugged on the fraying ends of Daichi’s hemp necklace where it was tied in the back. ‘But, just so y’know, if it all crashes and burns around you, I’ll make sure we save a spot for you at home.”

Daichi really didn’t have a response for that, not in words. He pressed back into the circle of Ryuu’s loose hold, letting Ryuu twist his fingers into the baby hairs that had escaped his braid. When he could speak again, he said, “I was serious about adding you to the- to my team.”

“And I was serious about needing to think about it.” He tugged on hair. “But I appreciate it, Dai. I really do.”

They fell into an easy silence, Ryuu still humming the road song as he settled against Daichi for a nap, tilting his hat down to cover his face. It was going to be a hot one, the road already steaming when the sun was barely above dawn. Some clumps of trees still hung on the horizon, but most of the land they could see and would see until the wall was rolling hills and small farms growing grains and vegetables, cotton, hay, or had animals out in split-log pastures. A sleepy farmer’s daughter perked up behind her roadside stall when Tooru flashed her a smile. He paused and dismounted to buy a few pears for himself and Happy, chatting her up as he dug for coins. She was half in love with him by the time Ryuu and Daichi’s cart caught up, bright and giggling. Daichi rolled his eyes.

“Hey, boss.” Daichi hummed a question at Ryuu’s sleepy tone. “Did you realize that you’ve had, like, four boyfriends in four months?”

Daichi stared at the reins in his hands for a long beat, Ryuu still half-asleep on his arm. He threw the reins around the knot and jumped off the bench to the ground, Ryuu flailing as his support vanished. “I’m leaving this,” he growled, stamping his feet in the dirt, Snowflake jumping off the cart to dance beside him. Ryuu cackled, slapping his hat on his knee.

“You can’t run from who you are!” he cried after Daichi. Daichi held up the back of his hand behind his back and marched over to drag Tooru away from the poor girl before she could propose.

The two weeks to the wall passed like two hours, Irihata pouring lessons into Daichi at every turn, his days spent riding along the caravan (and learning how to ride an ostrich-horse longer than a few minutes), evenings spent buried in paperwork, nights spent learning all the different ways Tooru and Hajime fit against him. He tried to give them their space sometimes, ease into this shiny new thing, but one of them would catch him trying to slip away and distract him from his well-intentioned plans. Ryuu stopped asking where he was sleeping that night and learned the glories of octopus-starfishing.

The last night before they reached the wall, the inn’s outdoor dancing after dinner took a sharp edge, Ken and Shigeru unsheathing the swords they had acquired during their month apart and throwing them in the dirt, crossed north-south, east-west. Shinji kept the beat with two knife hilts on an ostrich-horse trough as they jumped and spun over them, Ryuu banging along with a bandit fox-yip, Snowflake howling with him. Daichi watched from a bench against the inn wall, flanked by Irihata and Tooru, talk about tomorrow’s wall crossing fading as the courtyard clapped along to the steel-on-heel clicks and stamping swirls over the sections made by the swords. Shigeru grinned his own knives while Ken bared his teeth in return. Daichi could feel Tooru’s bowstring tension the whole dance, so wasn’t surprised when, after they finished with a clash and cheers, he jumped from the bench and ran over to ask to learn that. Irihata sighed.

“You should probably go dissuade him from that line of thinking,” he told Daichi, “before he gets caught up in it.”

Daichi frowned at Irihata’s profile. “And why would I do that?”

Irihata cut his eyes at Daichi. “Because it’s the right thing.” When Daichi’s frown only deepened, Irihata went on, “The Oikawas don’t fight their own battles, not physically. That’s what you’re for.” He flapped a hand at Tooru, who was testing the weight of Ken’s hand-and-a-half sword with a frown. “This- fixation of his, it’ll pass.” Tooru shook his head and handed the sword back, excusing himself and slipping away to the tables, Ken and Shigeru going back to their constant bickering. “You just have to enforce it to him that if he keeps going down this path, he could lose more than the one finger.”

Daichi drummed his fingers on his wristguard – new, a set purchased from a smithy in the last traveler’s rest town. “I don’t want to say that you’re wrong,” he said, considering the weight of each word on his tongue. “But I don’t think that’s how I want to be with him.”

“Come again?”

Daichi sighed. “Look, I get that you’re basically his uncle and want to look out for him and that he does require some amount of looking after, but I’m not his babysitter. I don’t want to be.” The local musicians were picking up their instruments again, the crowd separating from its brief focus into facing lines of men and women. “I also don’t know much about the Oikawas, either their reputation or their habits. I only know Tooru.” He grit his teeth as Tooru bounced out of the stables, holding the sword he had gotten from the Nekoma’s dusty armory, beaming. “There are a lot of thing that I’ll take your advice on without question,” Daichi continued as Tooru skidded to a halt between Ken and Shigeru, unsheathing the sword and prattling on about it. Daichi couldn’t hear him over the music and the chatter, Tooru’s lips moving too fast for him to read, but it didn’t take sound to read their wide eyes, Shinji jumping up from his trough-seat to whistle over the blade. “A lot of things.” Tooru stepped aside for space to swing it, a metallic shing slicing through the flutes. He twirled his wrist, held it at guard – Shigeru met him with his broadswords, crossed at the hilt. Tooru grinned, eyes white and cinnamon circles, the hair drifting over his face not hiding any of his trembling intensity. Daichi’s breath caught. “But Tooru and I will decide what we are on our own.”

Shinji jumped in with his granite teaching-mitts to grab the blades, snatching their attention long enough to draw them to a corner of the yard farther from the dancers and potential victims, a few of Seijoh and the other locals not in the dance lines following to create a loose sparring circle. Daichi stood, dusting off his pants. Irihata watched him, arms crossed, square face unreadable. Daichi smiled. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t lose another finger.”

Irihata’s foot tapped. “It won’t be the same in the city as out here, you know,” he said. “There are some rules you can’t do anything about.”

Daichi gave his best smile. “We’ll see about that, won’t we?” Irihata’s mouth twisted, but Daichi left him with a quick salute to trot over to the forming circle.

They crossed the wall without ceremony, Daichi managing to keep his feet under him during the wall guard’s demanding expectations of their search and paperwork. Irihata mostly let Daichi and Tooru handle it, only stepping in when a guard got picky or tried to bully them into something they didn’t need to do. They gave Tooru some grief over Ken’s continued presence – apparently the quiet no-eyebrows guard had a long memory – but a bit of Tooru’s quick talking worked them out of that. They were gone in the morning, Shigeru keeping Ken’s fidgety self busy picking on Shinji for having to leave his trapper girlfriend in the wall town behind. Daichi had been put on an ostrich-horse for the day, Hajime taking his empty spot on the driver’s seat next to Ryuu to free up the saddle. Daichi was almost used to riding, but he still had to think too much about it and jerked the reins too hard on accident sometimes. Hopefully he would be better at this by the time he saw Fukurodani next and could finish buying Sunbeam.

“You look like a bag a’rice on that poor thing,” Takahiro said, trotting up to his side. Daichi grimaced at him as Issei came up on his other, hemming him in and preventing escape. He sighed, and they both grinned. “Issei, doesn’t he sit like a poor farm kid forced to fetch the healer or summat?”

“Nail on the head there, Taka.” Issei pulled up a long strip of earth from the road, forming it into a staff. He nudged Daichi’s lower back with it, not quite a hit. “Sit up, boss,” he said, correcting Daichi’s posture with his road stick. Daichi glowered at him, but Issei just stared back, slow-blinking like a cat-owl and unrelenting. “You’re the real boss now,” Issei argued, tilting Daichi’s chin up with the end of the staff. “We all think you should carry yourself like it.”

“It’s true,” Takahiro chirped. “You’re fine on land, but you slump over as soon as you get your dirty farmer’s feet off it.” He copied Issei’s stick and poked Daichi’s side. Daichi slapped it away, earth crumbling to dust under his hand. He sat up straight to scowl at Takahiro, who smiled. “Yes! Exactly that!” Daichi rolled his eyes, biting on his smile.

Issei’s staff tapped his lower back again. “Keep that pose,” he ordered in his teaching voice. “Longer you hold it, the more natural it’ll become.”

“I hate both of you.” He snapped the reins – nothing. “I’ll make Tooru fire y’all as soon as we get back.”

“Taka, when will he realize he doesn’t have to go through Tooru to fire us?”

“Shh, don’t spoil his fun. If he doesn’t have someone else to blame he won’t have a reason to deny he likes having us around.” Daichi kicked his heels into his ostrich-horse hard. She yelped and jerked forward, trotting out from between them and cantering up the side of the line as he managed to stay on her back, their laughter echoing behind him. Ingrates.

Daichi thought he would be nervous about returning home just to leave again, but he didn’t have time for that. One minute the wall was shrinking on the horizon, and the next, they were rumbling through too-familiar chicken-pig coops and waving at faces he knew. He curled his fingers in a wave at some kids he almost remembered as they jumped and screamed at the caravan from their garden gate, adults stepping out of the main way and shading their face against the afternoon sun to inspect the travelers. It took more than a few people more than a few seconds to recognize Daichi, blank looks to his friendly greetings that burst into bright smiles. They slapped his leg on the ostrich-horse, commented on his hair and his scar, threw up promises to stop by the Sugawaras and give a proper welcome home. He smiled back and probably said something, but they kept moving, passing through the village that was the social center of the local farms. It felt smaller than it used to, the horizon behind the wood and mud houses known, closer. He was too big for his skin, itching in his new riding boots and shiny wristguards. His stomach twisted.

“Hey there, dear.” Tooru had fallen back to his side, keeping Happy away from Daichi’s mount of the day on instinct. He smiled at Daichi, soft and not a hair out of place for the first time in a while. “You gonna be okay?”

Daichi took in a deep breath – released it. “I hope so.”

Tooru took a chance and nudged Happy over to tap their stirrups together, dancing her away before the ostrich-horse could realize the danger. “If Koushi tries to fight me for you, I hope you know I’ll win.” He grinned. “I have the height advantage.”

Daichi scratched under his braid. Hajime was right that it was itchy and hot in the Ba Sing Se humidity, but Tooru’s fingers twisting a new weave into it each morning were nice and cool. “Just- just don’t tell me about it, okay? I don’t…”

“We have pretty pictures of people built up in our heads sometimes, eh?” Daichi blinked at Tooru. “I won’t tear yours up, dear heart. I promise.” Daichi huffed and looked away – frowned.

“Hey.” Tooru hummed a question. “You keep talking about… this, like Kou- Suga’s the final word.” He cut his eyes at Tooru. “Did something happen to the Sugawaras I need to know about?”

Tooru’s face fell, and he looked at his hands, fiddling with his gloves. “Koushi asked me not to tell you or Tanaka.” He beamed, too bright like the sun overhead, stark against the approaching storm clouds. “But you’ll find out soon enough!” Daichi frowned, but he knew when to fight for an answer and when to drop it. He sighed and stuck a Happy-bite’s distance from Tooru’s side as they trotted to the front of the caravan and turned down the tree-lined drive to the Sugawara farm. To home.

His heartbeat made his fingers twitch, cicada-frogs and dragonflies singing a white noise that filled his ears. He looked around at the grand oak trees of the drive, once as familiar as his hands. Now they just looked like trees. He still knew to avoid the protruding root halfway up the drive, but he only barely clucked his ostrich-horse out of the way before he tripped. He was out of practice.

The big house appeared through the trees, just as stately as he remembered. Now that he had seen others, though, he could spot its quirks, the carved columns on the porch from another land, the glassless shuttered windows, the mismatched paint across the front. Still, a knot deep in his heart eased. There really was nothing quite like home.

Mrs. Sugawara was waiting on the porch, warned by the messenger they had dispatched the night before, house servants and stablehands idling on and around the porch with her. Tooru stood in his stirrups and cried, “Auntie Suki!” at the top of his lungs, waving his whole arm. She waved back from her wicker porch chair, the staff jumping to attention. Tooru kicked Happy into a short gallop, Daichi groaning as he coaxed his mount to follow. Tooru leapt off Happy in a showman’s jump that Daichi swore he had seen Bokuto do in a performance, landing halfway up the wide porch steps and running to hug Mrs. Sugawara like she was his own mother. Daichi dismounted like a normal person, grabbing Happy’s reins before she could take off anyone’s fingers. She would never like him, but they had struck up something like a truce in the last few weeks. She huffed down his neck, but stayed put.

Tooru put Mrs. Sugawara down after their enthusiastic reunion, her still clinging to his tunic and her drink, and beamed down at Daichi. “Auntie, you remember Daichi, right?”

She rolled her eyes. “Do I remember Daichi.” He grinned, and she winked. “You look a bit different, sweetie.”

“It’s the rich Water Tribe food, auntie. Makes you fat.” Daichi slung a stone from behind him at Tooru’s head, but Tooru blocked it with his free hand. “Be nice, Captain.”

“Captain?” She cut a sly smile up the two heads of distance between their eyes. “Something tells me there’s a good story as to why our future foreman is wearing your colors.”

“Oh, of course! You know me so well!” He bent in half to smack a kiss on her cheek and let her go, leaping off the porch and over the bushes. “I’ll tell you and the rest later!” he called as the caravan rumbled up, arranging in the teardrop pull-in that swooped around a small garden with a fountain.

They got busy unpacking the wagons for the three days they would spend at the Sugawaras, Sugawara staff and Seijoh working together and catching up. Daichi caught Tooru’s arm before he could run, shoving Happy’s reins in his hand. “Take your beast and lock her up before she tries to eat someone.” She nipped at his wristguard, and he flicked her wet nose in return. Tooru gasped.

“Such indecency! See if I don’t drag you to court for that smirch on her name!” But he led her to the stables, crooning praises and reassuring her that she didn't have to listen to mean old Daichi. Daichi’s own ostrich-horse was already whisked away by a Sugawara stablehand he didn’t recognize. Actually, every other face in Sugawara colors was a new one – the stablehands always had high turnover, he told himself. He still didn’t like it.

“So.” He jumped as Mrs. Sugawara came up by his side, drink still in hand. She and Daichi had never been close, not like him and Koushi, but she had always made an effort to seek him out for a word when the family was in the country. She swirled her cold tea and took a sip. “Captain Sawamura, is it now?”

He scratched his head. “Well, ah – yes, ma’am.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry for not telling y’all about it first,” he mumbled. “It was – sudden.”

“Oh, psh.” He blinked at her, trying not to jump two times in one conversation. She crossed her arms and tapped her glass on her elbow, her dark eyes ticking over the organized chaos of the caravan. “This’ll get me drawn and quartered in some circles,” she said, “but I’ve never cared for the idea that servants need to get a master’s by-your-leave to relieve themselves.” She sighed. “Oh, maybe it’s my poor country upbringing giving me foolish impressions of the way the world works, but I’ve never met a soul who didn’t want something more than what they were given, good or bad.” Country upbringing? Had she not grown up in the city? Now that he thought about it, something was poking at him that she was from around here, but like anything about adults from his childhood, the details had never stuck in his mind. She tapped the back of his elbow with her glass. “If this is what you want, then you have my blessing.”

He let out a breath lodged behind his breastbone. “And… Mr. Sugawara?” Her shoulders stiffened, breath catching. He lifted a hand. “Oh… oh, I’m-”

She slapped his hand away. “Oh, stop it. He’s alive, after all.” After a beat of silent question, she went on, “Stroke, around midsummer. He’s almost back to talking again.” She scowled at his stare. “Don’t you get on that, boy,” she snapped, crow’s feet deep. “We’ve managed, and – don’t you have a job to do?”

He snapped to attention. “Right!” He hopped to help with unpacking – paused, spun to hug her. I’m sorry I wasn’t here. “I’m glad he’s getting better,” he whispered.

“Yes, yes, it’s all very sad.” She patted his back. “Spirits, you have grown.” He laughed and let her go. She smiled up at him, patting his chest. “Koushi’s out in the processing barn today overseeing the construction,” she said, “but I’m sure you’ll see him soon.”

He nodded, biting his tongue. “Yeah.”

She turned him around and pushed him towards the carts. “Now go to work, captain!” He stumbled with the push, but obeyed with a smile, jogging off to pull Ryuu off a hapless new stablehand. They would learn.

The rest of Seijoh left just before sunset to bed down in the village like they had on the way out, everything stowed away against the storm looming closer. A cold wind tugged at Daichi’s clothes as he say on the edge of the front porch with Tooru, Hajime, Ryuu, and Chikara, Chikara meeting Snowflake and updating them on house news while they watched the thunderheads darken. Irihata stayed on the porch proper behind them, keeping easy conversation with Mrs. Sugawara and Mr. Takeda the steward, Mr. Sugawara’s half-slack face watching at his wife’s side and tapping her when he had something to try and contribute. It was too weird, seeing his gaunt, intelligent face only half work like he had been cut down the middle. Daichi couldn’t watch, even to see how Ukai tried to keep up with Ba Sing Se and plant talk, Mr. Takeda helping him understand when it was a bit overwhelming.

Shrieks and cries that had nothing to do with the storm made them crane to look towards them, the sounds coming from around the house on the beaten dirt path to the fields. Daichi got down from the porch so the hooligans wouldn’t trample the landscape to attack him, Snowflake bounding to meet them as they rounded the corner, a dirty group in golds and browns. The fox-dog distracted some of them from the barrage, but Ryuu barreled past Daichi fast enough to cause a breeze, slamming hard into a figure half his size. “Yuu!”

“Ryuu!” Yuu yelled back just as loud, lifted over their heads as everyone dove out of the way. Ryuu fell back on the ground, more dust puffing up around than the fall warranted. Everyone laughed and joked at the writhing dustcloud that refused to settle, Snowflake’s barks a harmony to human, all loud enough that it took a bit for Daichi to notice that there wasn’t any noise coming from the dustcloud itself.

Daichi frowned and tamped it all down with a flat hand, revealing Yuu on top of Ryuu, buried in a him-shaped insert in the ground, making out like it was their last act. The laughter changed to catcalls and howls as Ryuu shoved him off, mouth wet and face red. Daichi kicked them out of their hole as he popped it back up to where it belonged, sliding a heel back to swing them to their feet. He raised an eyebrow at Yuu’s stubborn glare from behind Ryuu, who was only held up by Yuu’s spider-monkey grip and shame. “Really?” Yuu just stuck his nose higher in the air.

“Well thank the stars for that,” Chikara said in a dull monotone from the porch, kicking his heels on brick. “I thought we’d never hear the end of his whining.” Ryuu moaned louder, hiding his face in Yuu’s wild hair.

“Y’all,” Ryuu groaned, arms pinned straight at his side by Yuu’s forceful embrace. “Stop!”

“Can’t y’all at least pretend to be civilized?” Daichi asked, hands on his hips. Yuu blew a raspberry while Snowflake barked.

“Daichi!” Daichi spun, heart hammering at the distant voice. Suga ran out of the open front door and threw himself at Daichi, who caught him, breath hitching on an arrowshot of black tea and ginger. “You’re back!”

“Yeah, I- oof!” Suga punched his stomach again for good measure, more forceful than it had a right to be with his limited range of motion. “Suga,” he wheezed.

Suga reared back, beaming in his face, color high on his cheeks. “Stars, it’s good to see you!” Daichi laughed – he couldn’t help it. Suga stepped back to look him over, and the smile fell from him like mud in a rainstorm. “What are you wearing?” Daichi shivered.

“I… I’m-”

“Rain!” Yuu cried, pointing at a wet spot on his arm. Drops were starting to fall, a sprinkle now but they all knew what that meant. Yuu threw a dying Ryuu over his shoulder and yelled, “Every man for himself!” as he sprinted towards the staff cabins. The rest of the chaotic crowd followed him, pulling tunics over heads and pushing friends out of the way, Snowflake caught up in the hullabaloo and running off with them.

Suga pulled out of Daichi’s reach, still looking at him like Daichi never wanted to be looked at. His hand twitched. “Suga…”

But Suga shook his head and spun around, braid slapping Daichi’s outstretched wrist, and ran back inside. Daichi looked after him at the banging screen door, chest empty, trying to eat itself. How would he…

“Go.” Tooru laid a hand on his lifted arm – when had he left the porch? – uncaring of the rain spotting his clothes as he stared Daichi down and pushed it back to his side. “Go home, dear. Say hi to your dad. I’ll deal with Koushi.” Daichi’s hand clenched in a fist, but Tooru’s fingers dug harder into his arm, above his wristguard, not breaking eye contact. “I’ll send Iwa-chan to you later,” he whispered, almost drowned out by the rain. His face twitched as a raindrop landed on his cheek, but he didn’t move until Daichi sighed, shoulders slumping, fist opening.

“Yeah. Okay.” Tooru’s hand slid down to grip his fingers, then fell away, turning to stride after Suga, not running but jumping the steps two at a time. Mr. Takeda and Mrs. Sugawara watched the door as they helped Mr. Sugawara back inside, faces tight. Hajime watched him, unreadable.

For the second time in his life, Daichi ran.

His dad was waiting for him on their porch when he got home, feet kicked up on the railing and whittling at something, boards beneath him covered in shavings. Daichi swallowed as he paused at the bottom of the porch steps, already drenched, hair in his eyes. “Hey, Dad.”

His dad jerked out of his focus, feet falling off the railing. “Daichi!” He set aside the wood and knife to jump to his feet, meeting Daichi at the top of the steps for a bone-creaking hug. “You about scared the life outta me!” Daichi hugged him back just as hard, burying his face in his shoulder. He was already wet, so who would notice a little more? “Damn, daidai, you’re soaked,” his dad said, drawing him into the house and using his foot to slide the door closed on the storm. “Sit, sit, I’ll get you a towel.” Daichi sat down in his old chair, tattered gearbag he forgot was slung across his chest laid out to dry. His dad disappeared to bring back all three of their towels, dropping one over Daichi’s head and putting the others in easy reach. Daichi rubbed down his hair as chair legs scratched over wood, hiding behind linen as his dad looked him over.

“Those aren’t the kind of clothes to be out in a storm in.” Daichi snorted and pushed the towel off his head and around his neck. He squeezed water out of his braid, that awful chest-eating ache easing a little.

“No, they really aren’t.” His cold fingers fumbled at the clasps of Tooru’s – his – tunic, thick and slippery. His dad let him fumble, standing to go to the stove and spoon out some rice as he shed his soggy outer layer, draping the tunic of the back of the other chair to trip on the old wood, kicking off his boots into the corner of the kitchen. Everything seemed so much smaller, but also more open. Like he had never noticed the color of the ceiling before. He slumped back in his chair, arms hanging down, as he considered it. Nothing else in the house was painted, but the ceiling had a very old, cracked coat of pale blue.

His dad sat back down and slid a bowl of rice in front of him. “Here.” Daichi moaned and reached for it blindly – he was starving – and ate without thinking, still staring at the ceiling. “Long day?”

“Long everything,” he moaned back. His dad chuckled. Daichi lifted his head enough to look into the bowl, eyes stinging. “You make the best rice, Dad.”

“Now we know that’s not true.” Daichi laughed, shoving the heel of his hand into his eye. “So,” his dad said, “What’s with the new getup?”

Daichi’s jaw clenched, and he sat upright, putting the bowl back on the table. “Tooru offered me a new job,” he sighed. “and I took it. I’m his captain now.”

His dad hummed, tapping a rhythm into the table with the butt of his chopsticks. “I’m not familiar with that role, I’m afraid,” he said, raising his voice over the rattling of the shutters. “What does ‘Tooru’s captain’ do?”

Daichi blinked at him. “Keep him from killing himself, mostly.” His dad snorted, and he grinned. “Well, that, and keep the boys in line. Train them, I guess. I’m supposed to recruit, too, I think. And help Tooru manage a fancy party without trying to stab someone.” He scratched his neck – yanked off the tie on his braid to untwist it so it would dry faster. “I got roped into helping trade at the North Pole, and it went downhill from there.” He fingered through his damp hair, shaking it out. “I know it’s – it’s not what you wanted me to do,” he forced out, “but I really, really want to do it.”

His dad grinned – when had his beard gotten that much silver in it? “Well it doesn’t like you’re going that far at all.” He counted off on thick fingers, “Keeping your boss in line, training and overseeing staff, backing up the nobles around traders?” He poked Daichi in the temple with his chopsticks. “That’s the family business, just with a different name and color.”

Daichi smiled, wiping at his face with the towel around his neck. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.” He swallowed. “Thanks a lot, Dad.”

“Of course.” He tipped his bowl to the side to pool the last grains of rice together. “You look good, even if you dragged in like a drowned turtle-rat,” he said. Daichi kicked his ankle under the table, but his dad just smiled back, eyes slits. “A lot happened to you out there, huh?”

Daichi nodded. He scooped the last of his rice into his mouth and put the bowl down, reaching for his gearbag with the motion. “Oh, I got something for you.” He dug through old clothes, his floppy Water Tribe boots, and his bathroom bag for the piece of ivory lodged at the bottom. “There’s no wood up at the North Pole unless they ship it in, but they’re still the best carvers I’ve ever seen,” he explained as he pulled it out, unwrapping it from its turtle-sealskin. “Mostly they carve ice, but they use ivory, too.” He laid the story-tusk on the table. His dad leaned in to ooh over it, picking it up to peer closer.

“This is amazing work!” His fingers traced the close-knit grooves, rows of events in a fable Daichi half-knew. “What do they use?”

The discussion of Water Tribe tools wandered to plants to oceans to food, the storm blowing itself out as his dad’s questions never waved, wanting to know everything that happened while they were apart. He asked about the scar on his cheek, which led to the Nekoma, which led to Kuroo. Daichi had to show him the ring to get a break from making words, trying to control his breathing. He wouldn’t cry again. His dad turned his hand over as he inspected it. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” He ran a thumb over the ring, grazing the skin around it and through the holes in the pattern. “So. You found someone out there.”

Daichi nodded – pressed a knuckle to his mouth. “Actually, I found a few.” At his dad’s inquiring head tilt, he mumbled, “I guess I’m more than Tooru’s captain.”

His dad raised an eyebrow, still holding his hand. “And this fire boy of yours is okay with that?” Daichi nodded, and his dad sat back, Daichi’s hand thumping on the table. “Well, I hope that works out for you,” he said, “but I hope you know you’re playing with fire. No pun intended.”

Daichi shrugged. “Maybe. But I think it’ll be okay.” They talked more, about relationships, his mother, how his dad would have to come and meet Kuroo someday. They were talking about what firebending actually looked like when someone knocked at the door. Daichi and his dad exchanged a look – none of the staff ever knocked, but barged in like it was their house. “Come in?” his dad called.

The door slid open, and Hajime came in, the clack-clack of Snowflake’s claws running in front of him to Daichi, who turned in his chair to greet her with a rubdown. “Good evening,” Hajime said, ducking a bow over the threshold and kicking the mud off his bare feet before crossing the six steps to the kitchen. After getting introduced to Snowflake, Daichi’s dad stood up to light the lamp hanging over the table, only then showing Daichi how dark it had gotten while they talked. Hajime paused behind Daichi’s chair, hand resting on Daichi’s shoulder as Snowflake fought for his attention on the floor. He smiled up at Hajime, who smiled back, eyes warm in the low orange light. “Hey there,” he said, voice a rumble. “How you doing?”

“Doing all right.” Hajime’s thumb stroked behind his ear.

“‘Found a few’, huh?” Daichi jerked at his dad’s voice, but he just smiled as he sat down after putting the kettle to boil. He nodded at Hajime. “It’s good to see you again, Hajime. Don’t you dare hurt my son.”

Daichi tried to kick at him under the table, but Snowflake was sitting on his feet. Hajime gripped his shoulder tighter. “Never. Sir.”

His dad snorted. “Well, if all your ‘someones’ are this well-behaved, you’re in good shape.” Daichi scowled, but his dad ignored him and asked Hajime, “Not that we don’t enjoy your company, but was there a reason for you stopping in?”

Hajime shrugged. “Tooru told Daichi he would send me, so here I am.” He pressed his hip against Daichi’s shoulder. “We had a bit of a storm up in the big house, I’m afraid,” he explained. “Kou- Suga wasn’t too happy about…” He gestured at the teal tunic still drying on the chair. His dad let out a little ‘ah’. Daichi’s heart clenched. “We may be heading out a little early as a result.” Daichi whipped to look up at him, but Hajime shook his head. “Not now. Tooru did promise the boys a day’s liberty. But first thing day after tomorrow.” His shoulders slumped, hand sliding off Daichi’s shoulder to hang in front of it. “M’sorry,” he said.

“Not your fault,” Daichi answered, brushing his hand along the inside of Hajime’s knee (in the shadow of the table and Snowflake where his dad couldn’t see). Hajime’s lips parted.

“Can- can I talk to you?” He forced a smile at Daichi’s dad. “No offense.” His dad held up his hands.

“Far be it for me to keep y’all from your privacy.” He smiled and waved them away, hauling Snowflake off Daichi’s lap and sliding down to the floor to her level, scratching her ears. “Tea’ll be ready when you’re done,” he told her, smooshing her cheeks.

Daichi got to his feet – damn, he was stiff. How long had they been sitting there? He led Hajime to his room – his old room – fingers tangling in the shadows. Hajime slid the door closed behind him as Daichi opened the shutters to let the damp night air and moonlight in. He expected his room to look untouched, but the bed was made with a new blanket, the old dresser in the corner dust-free. He coughed away the tickle in his throat and sat on his bed. The new blanket was soft, although it was hard to tell the color in the light. Hajime climbed on the bed next to him, cross-legged and holding his ankles, bathed in moonlight. Daichi turned to face him head-on. “Was it really a storm?”

“I could hear Suga screaming from the floor below.” Daichi winced. Hajime laid a hand over his on the bed. “It’s all right,” he said. “They reached an agreement.”

Daichi sighed. “Great. Wonderful.” He tilted his head back, eyes closed, and took a shaky breath. “Why can’t anything be easy?”

“Because then it wouldn’t be worth doing.” Hajime clutched at his hand, fingers shaking. “That’s- that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about,” he mumbled, almost a whisper. Daichi flipped his hand over to hold Hajime’s back, watching him try to keep himself in control and failing. “I… You know… You knew I wasn’t going back into Ba Sing Se,” he said, voice raspy. “Well. This is as far as I go.”

“Oh.” Daichi’s breath left him in a punch, watching white and black wave over Hajime’s face. “That makes sense,” his body said, his mind a shrill nothing. Hajime cupped his jaw, leaning in, biting his lip. “Haj?”

“I know, I know this is going to hurt you,” he choked out, eyes shining. “But you can’t talk about me. Not by name, not where anyone can hear you, not even with Tooru. Especially not in the Oikawa house.” He blinked, fat tears rolling down his cheeks, shining like stars. “I don’t want to take the chance that they’re still looking for me,” he growled, grip tight enough to hurt, shaking. “I can’t let them hurt you because of me.”

Daichi grabbed the back of Hajime’s head to pull him in for a kiss, hard and bruising. Hajime gasped and fell into it, hands still shaking as they left bruises down Daichi’s neck, coming around his chest to hold him close. They eased off, then pulled away, foreheads touching. “I get it,” he breathed, scratching through Hajime’s rough hair. “I don’t like it, but I think I understand.”

Hajime’s breath misted over his mouth and chin, green tea eyes drowning him. “Please be careful, love.” His mouth closed to swallow. “I can’t protect you when I’m not there.”

“I’ll do my best.” Daichi stroked his cheek – Hajime caught his hand, kissed the palm, eyes squinted shut. “I will.”

“I believe you.” Hajime’s eyes cracked open as he lowered Daichi’s hand, playing with his fingers, spinning his ring. “You can’t wear this, either.”

Daichi’s mouth dried. “Why not? I know you’re not Kuroo’s biggest fan-”

Hajime shook his head. “No, not that. It’s too obviously Fire Nation, love. Someone will recognize it.” He reached behind his neck to fiddle with something – untied a leather cord from around his neck. Daichi had seen that hanging there for ages, only recently becoming familiar with the texture, the small glazed yellow tile that hung from it. He slid the ring off Daichi's finger and onto the cord, then tied it around Daichi’s neck, chin hooked over his shoulder to see. He kissed Daichi’s chin as he drew away, tucking the new pendants under his shirt. “If anyone asks,” he said, “you bought it from a peddler and have no idea where it came from.” He held Daichi’s head still. “I’m sorry,” he swore, “but I wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t necessary.”

Daichi nodded, not trusting his voice. His new necklace felt heavy on his breastbone. “I know.” Hajime kissed him again, hands in his loose hair. Daichi kissed him back just as hard. “We should-” A kiss to the corner of his mouth. “We should go back out, before my dad thinks you’re ravishing me.”

Hajime groaned. “That sounds like a better idea.” He kissed Daichi’s cheek. “But I have missed y’all’s tea.” Daichi smiled, and Hajime grinned back. “It’s best at the source, after all.”

“Are you staying here, then?” Hajime shrugged. “You should. I think my dad’s been living alone too long.”

“Sleeping in your old bed?” He combed his fingers through Daichi’s hair, making his eyelids flutter. “Better not tell Tooru that. He’ll be limp with envy.” Daichi flicked his ear.

“Stop it, you.” He stood, pulling Hajime to his feet by his hands. He pressed his mouth to Hajime’s knuckles, hard and caked in callouses. “Let’s go pitch it to my dad,” he said to Hajime’s hands. “I missed our tea, too.” Hajime laughed, headbutting him a bit before they went back to the kitchen, handfast.

Daichi spent the next day getting dragged around the property by old friends, shown to the almost-finished new wing of the processing barn, grilled about princesses and the Fire Nation, laughing as Yuu refused to let Ryuu out of his grasp now that they were reunited. Saeko shoved a whole barrel of her bathtub sake in his arms, weeping about how much he had grown and how much he had looked out for her baby brother. Asahi, spine a little more intact than it used to be, kept trying to drag people back to work, but it became an unofficial holiday, Daichi overheating as everyone stuck way too close. He didn’t see Tooru that day, although Hajime hung in the background, getting reacquainted with the operation and being totally sneaky about keeping an eye on Daichi.

He heard all day about the events of the Sugawara family’s summer, the minor clashes father and son had before the stroke, the stroke, how Suga had rolled up his sleeves and gotten right to work as his mother took over the care of his father, the fingerprints of Suga’s touch everywhere. But he didn’t see Suga.

When people broke away to go eat dinner in their own houses, Daichi and Snowflake slipped out his back door to get some alone time, wandering through the herb garden towards the big house. He sat on the edge of the kitchen patio, holding Snowflake’s paw up against the mystery ones in the orange tile. Hers were already bigger than them. She curled up against his lower back, yawning from her long day of attention from new friends, and was his backrest as he watched the sun set and waited. He didn’t wait long.

“I was afraid I’d find you out here.” He looked over his shoulder as Suga padded over, sandals flapping on the tile. Suga sat down next to him, an arm’s-length away. Snowflake started to belly crawl to him, but Daichi stopped her with a click. “I… I’m sorry about yesterday,” Suga said, picking at his tunic hem. His clothes weren’t as fine as they used to be, less for entertaining and more for working. “I overreacted. I was just – surprised.” He cut his eyes at Daichi. He had been all around the world and he hadn’t found someone with that exact shade of hazel-gold. “I just never thought you would leave me.”

Daichi frowned. “I’m not going far.”

“You’re going to the North Pole.”

Daichi grinned. “Only sometimes.” He reached up – planted his hand on Snowflake’s head. “You and Tooru are neighbors in the city, right? I’ll still see you then.”

Suga cracked up – slapped a hand over his mouth. He nodded, baby hairs sticking to his face. “Yeah,” he said between his fingers. “I guess we might.” He turned to face Daichi, folding one leg up to put his chin on his knees. “Just… why?”

“Because it feels right.” He looked at his hand between Snowflake’s ears, hard skin and dirt in the creases. “I never realized it when I was here,” he told it, “but I always felt… well, not trapped, but… stuck. A cart in the mud.” He buried his fingers in white fluff. “I feel like I got to breathe for the first time out there. I can’t drop that now that I know it’s out there.”

Suga didn’t say anything for a long while. Daichi didn’t look up from Snowflake’s head, pulling her soft ears up to their brown tips, alternating ears with each pull. “You know,” he said at last, voice low and quiet. “When Tooru told me last night that you chose this, I didn’t want to believe him. I know how persuasive he can be when he wants something.” Daichi looked up, but Suga was watching the sunset, cheek on his knee. “But he was right.” He sighed. “I miss you, Daichi.”

Daichi nodded, biting his lip. “I’m sorry.” He heaved a sigh and looked out over the fields. “I like what you’ve done with the place.” Suga huffed.

“Long time coming.” His nose wrinkled. “I hate that it took a stroke to bring Papa around, but, I guess everything happens for a reason.” He reached out to pet Snowflake, Daichi moving his hand away so he could scratch her ears. “I guess I need to make this into a place you won’t feel stuck in, eh?”

Daichi grinned, that old second heat settling over him, but duller, a few degrees cooler. “I’ll enjoy watching you work.” Suga’s eyes smiled. They watched the sunset in a happy silence, Snowflake between them begging for affection, then parted ways when the fireflies came out.

They set off early the next morning. Daichi’s dad and Hajime came out with him to help repack and say goodbye, Seijoh crying over Hajime and telling Daichi’s dad every embarrassing story they could shove at him. Suga showed up eventually, yawning in his dressing gown and sandals barely tied, hair a bedhead mess as he took his tea on the porch steps. Tooru kept his distance, bouncing around everywhere but where Suga sat, watching the action with bleary eyes. Daichi wanted to go over and talk to him, but he kept getting called away to check on something, help lift a crate. The next time he checked, Hajime was sitting a step above Suga, not-talking. Daichi smiled and left them to it.

It was time to go. Daichi’s dad slapped his shoulder, gave him a quick hug. Ryuu, Yuu still clinging to his back, ran up to cry over him and strangle him half to death. Hajime excused himself from Suga to drag Tooru around the house for a ‘private word’, leaving Daichi and Suga to talk, Suga too sleepy to stand up or be upset. Daichi tried to grin, feet shifting under him. “Take care of the place while I’m gone.”

“Go suck a rock, asshole.” Daichi laughed, and Suga smirked. “Don’t let Ba Sing Se eat you alive.”

“I’ll try.” Suga smiled up at him, but made no movement to stand. Daichi nodded and left him to his tea.

Tooru and Hajime came back from their ‘word’, considerably more ruffled than when they had left. Seijoh was awake enough to make jokes about it, but Hajime ignored them and slapped Tooru’s ass towards Happy, making him yelp and everyone laugh harder. He failed to hide a smirk as he wandered over to Daichi, who turned to face him to guard against equal treatment. Instead, Hajime shed his usual private manner and kissed him full on the mouth.

Somewhere outside of himself, he heard gleeful shrieks and the shatter of porcelain, but he only felt Hajime’s mouth on his and his hands holding his face. Hajime pulled away, thumb running over Daichi’s cheek scar. “Take care of each other for me,” he whispered.

“Of course,” he breathed back. “Oi!” he yelled at the peanut gallery, whipped around to glare at the mounted guards and drivers. “Shut it!”

“Hah!” Takahiro stuck out his tongue. “You’ll have to try harder-”

He toppled off his ostrich-horse as a rock thunked into his stomach, everyone switching to laughing at him instead of Daichi. Daichi shook out his arm, grinning. Hajime tugged on his braid. “Mount up, love.”

Daichi nodded, swinging up on his waiting ostrich-horse. Irihata opened a hand, humor deep in his face. Daichi sighed. “Move out, you ingrates!”

“Sticks and stones!” Takahiro wheezed, barely clinging to his mount, but they obeyed, wood and animals creaking as they started to move. Tooru and Daichi fell in at the head, Tooru grinning at him, hair a mess, half-pulled from under his hairband, glowing. “Exciting, isn’t it? New day, new road, new life?”

Daichi glanced back at the house. Hajime was handing Suga a mended teacup, smiling wide, as Suga flicked the end of his long braid over his palm. He turned back front, looking down the road, finger hooked on the cord around his neck and sliding the ring up and down its bumps. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

He didn’t look back again.