At the End of the Tunnel

Waking up was vastly unpleasant. Taiga flinched and moaned the second his eyes cracked open. The light seemed to stab right into his brain. He slammed his eyelids shut, screwing up his face in a grimace of pain. He wanted to roll over on his side and curl up, hiding his face from the light, but he couldn't…

He couldn't move. His body twitched, but it wouldn't obey him. Taiga's eyes flew open again in panic, and his breath started to speed up. Why...why couldn't he move? It felt like...something was holding him down? Restraints, or... Or what else could it be?

He rocked his head to the side and stared blearily down at his wrist, expecting to see cuffs or a strap pinning him to the bed. But there was nothing, just a tube in his arm... An IV, it was an IV, he recognized it from all the trouble two years ago, when Tetsu was so sick…

But this time Taiga was the one in a hospital bed, trembling and weak, unable to control himself. He blinked, trying to take it in, but his head ached and his eyes burned, and nothing made sense. It was all just a big jumble of confusion and pain.

And he still didn't understand why he couldn't move. There was nothing on top of him but a hospital blanket, and yet he felt weighed down in every limb, every muscle. If someone had told him that every square inch of his skin had somehow been transformed into lead, he wouldn't have even blinked in surprise. But it was nothing like that, there was nothing, there was…

He tried again to roll over on his side, hated lying on his back like this, vulnerable and laid out like a body in a morgue. This time he moved so strongly that he thought he might be making headway, the muscles of his abdomen tightening as he struggled to move. He grunted, bleary and dazed, still trying, still trying, but he knew that he had barely moved, barely even lifted his head off the pillow…

Agony ripped through his gut and he fell back again, limp, a short cry bursting from his lips. Then there was movement in the room, rapid rustling, a soft footstep. Taiga blinked down again at his own arm, his own hand, his vision blurry and blacked out on the edges. But it was enough for him to see another hand reach out for his, slender fingers wrapping around his palm in a warm, tight grip.

An urgent voice, close to Taiga's head, and he started away at first, then lay still, blinking, trying to understand. The words were all scrambled together, a rush of discordance echoing in his ears and bouncing around his head, but then they began to coalesce and make sense. He knew that voice, it was very dear to him, as dear as anything in his life, even basketball…

"Taiga-nii, Taiga-nii, I'm here. It's Tetsu-chan, I'm right here. I'm sorry you woke up alone. I fell asleep in the chair. I didn't mean to. But I'm here, I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. Please don't try to move, all right? You are badly injured. You need to be still, or you could make it worse. Just lie still and rest. You are safe now. I'm taking care of everything."

"Tetsu-chan..." Taiga forced the name out, syllables slurring against each other like drunks leaning together as they stumbled home. He blinked, still dazed, trying to catch up. “Tets'-chan... 'R you okay?"

He didn't know why he felt the need to ask—clearly Taiga was the one who was injured this time, trapped in a hospital bed by the weight of pain while his little brother stood by, holding his hand in a protective grip. But suddenly, no other question in the universe seemed as important as this one. Taiga blinked, hard, trying to force Tetsu's face into focus as he waited almost breathlessly for a reply. "Y'r... You're okay, right? Nothing bad h'ppned t'you?"

A small, pained smile flitted over Tetsu's lips, visible even in the middle of Taiga's blurred vision and straining eyes. "I'm fine, Taiga-nii. Perfectly fine. I was nowhere near the incident. I came to the hospital as quickly as I heard, though, and I haven't left your side since. But I am unharmed, I assure you."

"Oh. Tha's good." Taiga blinked again, still trying to make out his brother's face. His headache was rapidly becoming brutal. He could hear the sincerity and honesty in Tetsu's voice, though, and that helped. It helped a lot. "And...and Nigou? He's 'kay, too?"

Tetsu nodded. "He's fine. He's at home. You protected him."

"Oh. Good. I'm glad." Taiga blinked for a second longer, blankly, then let his eyes fall shut. There was a memory... Nigou barking... A flash of metal in the yellow light of a streetlamp... He couldn't hold onto it. It slipped away.

"Everything is okay now," Tetsu said, and his voice was soft, but it was very fierce. Taiga felt cool fingers on his forehead, slim and gentle and slightly shaking. They brushed back his sweaty hair and lingered above his eyebrows, then fell away again. He missed them instantly.

"Everything is okay," Tetsu said again, very firmly, and Taiga believed him.

It was all too confusing, and it hurt too much. But with Tetsu at his side, assuring him, Taiga knew that all was well. He let it slip away, let it all fade. It was too much. He would leave it in Tetsu's hands for now, then come back and figure it out later.

"You're going to be okay," Tetsu said, and Taiga murmured an agreement, then fell asleep.

The next little while seemed to pass for Taiga in a series of snapshots. He woke from a restless slumber now and then to be examined by doctors, or some half-remembered dream would chase him out. Every time, though, he could only seem to stay awake for a few minutes. The light hurt his eyes, and his body still felt leaden and weighted down. He was aware of pain in his body, in his abdomen, though it all felt muted and far away.

"Where's Dad?" he asked Tetsu on one of those occasions when he woke and managed some form of coherence for a short time. He'd never stayed in the hospital before, not that he remembered. Even the time he had been bitten by the dog, he had gotten his stitches and gone home the same day. But despite his lack of experience with these matters, he felt sure that his dad was supposed to be there.

"He had that business trip, remember?" Tetsu said with the air of someone who had told the same story many times. Taiga blinked, but couldn't keep his eyes open. Had he already asked this? Had Tetsu told him? "He's doing his best to cut it short and come back as quickly as possible, but New York is far away. He keeps calling my cell phone to check in, though. If you're awake next time, he’ll want to speak to you."

New York... That was right, Dad had gone to New York. It was supposed to be for a week. Taiga and Tetsu had laughed when he fretted about being away for so long. "What if something happens?" he had said, raking his fingers through his hair, and his sons had grinned and called him an old woman for worrying so much.

"I'm eighteen now, Dad!" Taiga had blustered. "Tetsu-chan will be eighteen in a few months! We can take care of ourselves. Everything will be fine!"

How strange to look back and remember that. To know how wrong he had been. Because yes, something had happened. Dad's ridiculous worries had turned out to have a basis in reality. When Taiga tried to remember exactly what had happened, though, the memory slipped away. It was like trying to grasp oil-slick metal with numb fingers. He was too clumsy, too weak to perform such a delicate task. His head throbbed, and he turned his face against the pillow and let his consciousness fade again. It was easier than staying awake.

In another snapshot, Tetsu explained what was wrong with him. Lacerations to the abdomen. A mild concussion. Blood loss. Taiga blinked, trying to take it in, but none of it seemed to sink into his brain. He felt even stupider than usual, being so unable to grasp the simple facts of his physical condition. And Tetsu remained patient, so patient, telling him again and again when Taiga asked him to repeat what he'd just said.

"But y'r okay, right, Tetsu-chan?" he asked, urgency suddenly beating in his chest. He tried to force his eyes open wider so he could look in his little brother's face and read the truth there. The effort burned and stung, the daylight in the window behind Tetsu's face seeming to wash out everything else. He could barely see Tetsu's features, but he wanted to. He had to. He had to know.

Tetsu nodded, slow and calm. "I'm fine, Taiga-nii." He even managed a note of amusement in his voice, despite the stress and concern that overlaid everything. "It's very like you to keep asking that, even though you're the one who is hurt this time. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that more often than not, when you're able to speak, it's to ask if I'm all right. I'll tell you every time, I don't mind. I'm fine. Everything is okay, and everything will be okay."

Taiga blew out a breath in an approximation of a grunt of understanding. He had discovered early on in this strange ordeal that grunting hurt. It tore at something deep in his gut. So he found other ways. "Okay. That's good, then. I'm glad you're not hurt."

Tetsu shook his head and held Taiga's hand a little tighter. "I'm not hurt. I wasn't even there. Everything is all right, Taiga-nii. Why don't you try going back to sleep?"

Taiga blinked, long and slow, barely able to keep his eyes open. "But..." Anxiety crept into his voice. "I want to stay awake for when Dad comes. He's coming, right?"

"Yes, he is. But it won't be for quite some time. We'll wake you as soon as he arrives, I promise. You have time for a nap."

Taiga wanted to stay awake. But Tetsu had promised to wake him, and that was just as good as Taiga being awake himself. He tried to hold onto consciousness for a little while longer, just so he could look after his little brother and make sure he was okay, but it was too hard. His eyelids were too heavy, sinking of their own accord.

"I want my dad," he heard himself saying, his voice high and plaintive. Not like an eighteen-year-old's at all.

Tetsu squeezed his hand. "He's coming. I promise. In the meantime, I'll be here with you. I'm not going anywhere."

Before long, Taiga was asleep again.

Taiga didn't understand why he kept worrying about Nigou. But along with his questions about Tetsu's health and well-being, he found himself frequently asking after the dog, too. It was true that over the last two years he'd gotten a lot more comfortable with Nigou (to Tetsu's immense pleasure and satisfaction), to the point that he would volunteer to take him on runs to give them both some exercise. But he would have never thought that he was that enamored with the mutt. Nigou was Tetsu's dog, and while Dad thought he was adorable and perfect, just like he thought Tetsu was adorable and perfect, Taiga's feelings usually stayed more similar to tolerance than anything else.

But now, he found himself asking again, "Is Nigou okay?"

This snapshot was slightly more clear than usual. Maybe he was starting to feel better, his body catching up with whatever massive amount of rest he'd been needing. The light still hurt his eyes, though, so he kept his eyes squinted almost shut. Tetsu's hand still felt warm and strong, wrapped around Taiga's palm.

Tetsu merely nodded, calm as ever. "Nigou is fine, Taiga-nii. You took good care of him. I'm very grateful."

Taiga released a sigh, careful not to let his gut move too much. "I know I've asked you more than once. I'm sorry I'm so troublesome. I know I'm being really stupid right now."

Tetsu brushed the hair back from Taiga's forehead, the touch on his skin as light and gentle as a butterfly. "You're not being stupid. I told you, you have a concussion. And you're still recovering from a great deal of shock to your system. Confusion is natural. I don't mind answering your questions."

"Even when I ask them twenty times?"

Tetsu chuckled softly. "Even then."

Taiga made an effort to smile and shifted where he lay. He was feeling much more coherent and himself than the other times he'd woken. "I don't...I don't understand why I keep worrying about Nigou, though. I know he's fine. And I've never had him so much on my mind before. It seems like if anyone would worry about him, it would be you, not me..."

"It's nothing, Taiga-nii. You're thinking about Nigou because he was with you when you got hurt, that's all. But he's fine. He wasn't hurt at all. He's at home."

"Oh." Taiga's head ached, deep and sharp. He felt like his brain was being pierced with icicles. He squeezed his eyes shut, his face screwing into a grimace. "I keep thinking that I hear him barking..."

"Yes, you've heard him barking many times."

"No, this is different... He sounds scared and angry... I didn't know a bark could sound scared and angry..."

Tetsu's fingers brushed his forehead again, careful, so careful. "Don't think about it. You should rest, Taiga-nii. Your condition is still rather fragile. You don't need to worry about anything. Everything is okay. I'm fine, Nigou is fine, and you're going to be fine soon."

"All right..." Taiga settled down again, mumbling. He trusted Tetsu. If Tetsu said that everything was all right, then it was true. If he said that Taiga shouldn't think about something, then it was true. If he said that he and Nigou were fine and Dad was on the way, those things were all true.

And yet, he drifted off still with that sound in his ear. The sound of Nigou barking, high and loud, too sharp and near. The sound rang and echoed in Taiga's head like a giant bell, vibrating his body and piercing his head. He wanted to cover his ears with his hands and hunch over, but Tetsu was still holding his hand and it was still too difficult to move.

So he just lay there, a breathless moan punching out of his lungs as the pain of that sound built and built. Tetsu's hand pressed flat against his forehead, firm, trembling lightly. As if he could feel Taiga's pain and longed to take it away, but could not. Taiga was sorry to cause his little brother distress, but he couldn't help it.

Why was Nigou barking? "Shut up, Nigou," he muttered, tossing his head on the pillow in an attempt to rid himself of the endless barking. "You're too noisy. It hurts..."

Tetsu's hand pressed his forehead. The other squeezed his hand. And Taiga couldn't fight the darkness pulling him under anymore. He drifted off once more, the sound of barking chasing him down into a restless slumber. And again, he saw the glint of a knife…

Akashi knew he should tread carefully. Tetsu's voice over the phone had been almost blank with shock, and Akashi knew that he was repressing his emotions harder than he had done for a very, very long time. But it didn't take brilliant observation skills to hear the foundation of rage and hurt in Tetsu's tone, either. He was keeping it under control, just barely, but it was no easy thing.

When Akashi said "I'll be there as soon as I can." Tetsu did not disagree. There was a brief pause on the line, and then Tetsu told him which room they were in, at which hospital. That was as close to an invitation as he was going to get. Even so, Akashi knew before he arrived that this was going to be a touchy situation.

Yet even he was shocked when he arrived outside the door of Kagami Taiga's hospital room and felt the aura of pure menace that radiated from within. Over the years, Tetsu's dim presence had gradually made itself more and more felt, though he still kept it under control on the basketball court. But this was first time that Akashi had felt it from several paces away. Tetsu was furious.

Akashi entered the room with great caution, his steps light, his own presence as gentle as he could make it. The room was darkened, but enough daylight filtered through the shades over the windows for him to see Kagami lying in the bed, Tetsu sitting next to him between the bed and the window. Kagami was still, either asleep or too weary to turn and look at the intruder, his body a vague shape in the dimness. Only the shock of dark red hair on his pillow stood out and let Akashi know that this was indeed Kagami Taiga and not just some stranger in the hospital.

But Tetsu looked up sharply at the approach of footsteps, and Akashi involuntarily halted where he stood. For a moment, he was incapable of movement. Tetsu's eyes were hard, his mouth pressed into a forbidding line, and he hunched over to be even closer to Kagami as he held his hand tight in both of his. His expression was...

It didn't matter that Akashi meant no harm. In view of that look on Tetsu's face, it was pure instinct to lift both hands, empty in front of him, and slowly back away. He could do nothing else.

After a moment, though, Tetsu seemed to suddenly recognize him. He relaxed, shoulders loosening from their tight hunch, his face gradually transforming to an expression of relief and subtle welcome. "Akashi-kun." It was a mere murmur, low and expressionless.

"Tetsu-kun." Akashi let his hands drift down to his sides. Still, he did not step forward. He recognized now that he would need to ask permission to intrude on the brothers, one injured, the other boiling with protective rage. "Is it all right if I come in?"

Tetsu took a moment to consider the request. Then he nodded, slow, solemn. "If you wish."

"Thank you. I appreciate your willingness to see me in such a difficult time."

Tetsu blinked, but he seemed to take the unusual formality as a sign that he could trust Akashi. It must be very difficult right now for Tetsu to trust anyone, even the doctors and nurses who were looking after his brother. There was only so much betrayal that one person could absorb, and Tetsu's trust in the universe's kindness had been betrayed time and time again. By his teammates, by his father, by opponents, and now by yet another outside force.

Tetsu relaxed a little more and offered Akashi another nod. "It was kind of you to come."

"I could do nothing else." Akashi stepped forward, keeping his movements soft and gradual. He found a chair on the side of the bed opposite Tetsu and drew it closer, then sat down. He looked at the young man in the bed.

Kagami's head was turned away from Akashi, facing his brother. Even in sleep, pain wrinkled his forehead and drew his mouth down into a tight frown. His hand twitched in Tetsu's grip, as if his dreams were unkind. Akashi switched his gaze to the younger brother. Tetsu watched Kagami's face, too, his expression smoothing out as he stared at his Taiga-nii. Even an injured, unconscious Taiga was soothing to Tetsu. Yet another testament of the strength of their relationship, the utter faith they had in each other.

"Do you have any more information about what happened?" Akashi asked quietly.

Tetsu's story over the phone had been very vague, but he had also been speaking rather absentmindedly. He had called Akashi to let him know what was going on just so that Akashi could inform the rest of their former teammates. He hadn't really intended for Akashi to visit, certainly not just a few hours later. But Akashi hadn't been able to stay away.

Tetsu shook his head and reluctantly dragged his gaze away from Kagami and back to Akashi. "I don't know much more than what I told you over the phone. Taiga-nii took Nigou for a run. A few hours later, a policeman brought Nigou home to me and told me that Taiga-nii had been stabbed several times in the abdomen and was in the hospital. He was found in a residential neighborhood by someone on the street. It seems that some time passed between the attack and when it was reported, because he had lost a great deal of blood. It also seems that his head struck something hard, in addition to the stab-wounds. He's only recently begun to show some flashes of consciousness, but he's very confused and in a good deal of pain despite the medicine they're giving him. The police are looking into it, but I suppose we'll have to wait for Taiga-nii to regain coherence before we'll know what truly happened."

Akashi was silent, taking this in. He might be able to do something to...facilitate the police investigation. He would look into it after he left Tetsu. For now, though, he knew it would not be helpful to mention it. "How is Nigou?"

"Uninjured, but he was very agitated. There was..." Tetsu paused. His breath shuddered. Then he found the strength to continue and fought on. "There was blood in his fur. Taiga-nii's blood. The police officer said he'd been curled up at Taiga-nii's side and it was very difficult to make him move. I...I did my best to soothe him and clean him up a bit before I rushed here to be with Taiga-nii. I wish I hadn't had to leave him, but..."

Akashi shook his head. "You had no choice. Would you like me to call someone to take care of him?"

"I texted Aomine-kun. He was confused, but agreed. I...couldn't bring myself to tell him the circumstances."

"I understand. I'll tell the others. Would you also like me to contact Seirin?"

Tetsu lowered his eyes to the bedspread, his cheeks flushing. "I... Yes, please. If you don't mind, Akashi-kun. I confess I feel...quite unable to tell this story again."

"That's understandable. It's an enormous shock for you, too."

Tetsu shook his head. He lifted one hand, shaking, and pressed it over his eyes. "I shouldn't... I shouldn't be like this. Taiga-nii has been strong for me for all this time. Now I need to be strong for him, and that's what I want to do. But how can I be the brother he needs when I can't even bear to talk about what happened to him?"

"Tetsu-kun." Akashi rose to his feet, carefully, his movements slow and gentle, but imbued with all the confidence and strength he could pour into them. He leaned over Kagami's prone body and pressed his hand on top of Tetsu's, which was still holding his brother's chilled hand in a strong grip. "Don't be foolish, Tetsu-kun. You are exactly the brother that Kagami Taiga needs right now. When he's awake, he'll tell you so. Remember how annoyed you were when he doubted his ability to help you two years ago? It is the same now. Don't second-guess yourself. Your nii-san believes in you. And so do I."

Tetsu was still for a moment, just breathing. Then he looked up and gave Akashi a nod, slow and firm. His eyes were hard again, not with rage but with resolve. Akashi nodded in return, then released his hand and sat back in his chair.

"Be kind to yourself," Akashi said. "This is a terrible thing, and it caught you alone and off-guard. I assume that your dad is on his way back from his business trip?"

"As quickly as he can make it happen, yes."

"Then it won't be long at all. In the meantime, you just need to concentrate on taking care of your brother. I will look after the rest. Can you trust me with that?

"Of course, Akashi-kun."

The utter absence of hesitation in that response forced a smile from Akashi, surprised but pleased. Tetsu was much, much stronger than he was aware of. Kagami was in excellent hands.

"All will be well." Akashi's voice went even softer than before. "You are in a great deal of distress right now, but I hope you can remember that you are not the only one who loves and honors your nii-san. There are many of us who owe him a great debt, and we will do everything we can to take care of you both."

Tetsu nodded and swiped his hand over his eyes, then slowly sat straight, his shoulders square. "Thank you, Akashi-kun. I know I can trust you with the details."

"Tetsu-chan..." The voice was low and pained, little more than a groan. Akashi and Tetsu went still at once, their eyes shifting to the boy on the bed. Kagami's eyelids twitched, and then he forced them open, just a sliver. His frown deepened, and he looked to Tetsu and Tetsu alone. He had eyes for nothing else.

Tetsu reaffirmed his grip on Kagami's hand. "I'm here," he murmured. "You're all right."

"You're okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine."

"Is Nigou okay?"

"Yes, of course. Aomine-kun is taking care of him at home."

"Oh. All right."

Kagami's eyes fell shut. He almost looked peaceful, for a moment. Then his eyes opened wide, staring. "Where's Dad? Did you tell me that he was coming?"

"I did. He's on his way. He's flying to get here from the other side of the world, and nothing will stop him from reaching your side just as quickly as it can be done."

"Okay." Kagami let his eyes fall shut again. He seemed to relax, just a bit, though pain still wrinkled his forehead and creased the corners of his mouth.

Tetsu met Akashi's concerned gaze, a small frown pulling at his own face. Akashi understood. Tetsu had said that Kagami was confused, disoriented. They'd probably had this exact conversation every time Kagami woke for a moment. Yet Tetsu did not seem even the tiniest bit frustrated or impatient. He really was exactly the support Kagami needed right now.

And Kagami had been focused only on his brother, his father, his family. His only concern, even in the midst of his own turmoil and pain, was to make sure that those he loved were safe and well. And on the way to see him, in the case of Kagami Hiroshi.

"My head hurts." The words were soft and low, almost embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, Taiga-nii."

"When will it stop hurting?"

"I don't know. I wish I did. You'll have to be strong for a little while longer."

"Okay." Kagami forced his eyes open again so he could look at his little brother. "I keep thinking that I hear Nigou barking. He sounds scared."

"He's safe. He's at home."

"And I keep thinking...I think I see..."

It didn't seem possible, but Tetsu somehow became even more still, more focused on his brother. His attention narrowed down to a single point, fixed on Kagami's face. He barely even blinked. Akashi was certain that Tetsu had absolutely no awareness of his presence in the room anymore. Nothing mattered except Kagami Taiga and what he was trying to express.

"What do you see?" Tetsu's voice was hushed. The room was still.

"I see...a knife..."

Tetsu's eyes flickered. "It's not real. It's a memory."

Kagami sighed, his eyes closing again. "I thought so..."

"You were right. It's only a phantom. A flashback. You are safe here. Nothing will touch you."

I won't let it.

"It seems...so real..."

"Your mind has been wounded as well as your body, Taiga-nii. But that's all right. We're going to get everything fixed for you. Just like you did for me."

Kagami's lips twitched in something like a smile. "Just like that, huh?"

"Just like that."

"It's...not fair..."

Tetsu was silent. His hand tightened around Kagami's, his eyes going sharp and hard again. "No." His voice was almost inaudible. "It's not."

"Not fair for you to have to deal with it too."

Tetsu closed his eyes, struggling for a moment, then opened them again.

"Don't worry about me, Taiga-nii. I'm fine. You should go back to sleep."

"All right..." Taiga shifted slightly where he lay, but did not turn his head away, still facing Tetsu. He had never woken up enough to be aware of Akashi on his other side. "I'll try to sleep. I'll try to...stop thinking about the knife."

Tetsu bit his lip. "Yes. You should do that."

"It was...it was scary, Tetsu-chan. It was so scary..."

Kagami's breath deepened, evened out, and he was asleep again.

Akashi became aware of his fingernails biting into his palms. He released them with a gasp, his lungs burning at the sudden intake of air. He ached. His entire body felt like he'd been beaten within an inch of his life. His chest stung as he struggled to breathe. He hadn't realized that he was holding his breath.

Tetsu looked at him across the bed, his eyes liquid with empathy. If he did not have to be strong for Kagami, he would be gasping right along with Akashi.

"I'm going to...post some bodyguards," Akashi said roughly. He could barely hear himself through the rushing in his ears.

Tetsu blinked. "There's no need for that, Akashi-kun. We have no idea about the motivation behind the attack, but there's no reason to think that he was targeted purposely. It could have been a mugging or a random act of violence, or he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time when someone else had an altercation. Whoever did it would have no reason to go after Taiga-nii again."

"Still. I will post guards."

Tetsu held still for a moment, then nodded in acceptance. "Whatever you need to do."

"Yes." Akashi pushed to his feet and left the room much less gently than he'd entered it.

He had phone calls to make.

Aomine wasn't as dumb as some people thought he was. (Thank you, Satsuki, for being so smart that merely hanging out with her made him look thick-headed in comparison.) When Tetsu texted him after midnight and begged him to come over and take care of Nigou, Aomine knew something was up. Probably something really bad. So his text in return was just a few words. I'll come. What's wrong?

Tetsu's reply came almost twenty minutes later. I had to go to the hospital.

And, well, that just set off all sorts of alarm bells in Aomine's head. He knew Hiroshi-san was in America right now, so that meant either Kagami or Tetsu had gotten hurt while their dad was away, leaving Nigou alone at home. Probably Kagami, since Tetsu was doing the texting. What had that idiot gotten himself into now? Did he brain himself on a cupboard door or fall down the stairs or something?

Usually Aomine wouldn't think it would be a problem, leaving a dog at home, and yet Tetsu had been pretty frantic about getting him to come take care of him. So...what? Nigou had gotten hurt, too? But if that was the case, Tetsu would have made arrangements, or at least his text would be begging Aomine to take him to a 24-hour vet clinic, not just come over to the apartment.

Aomine didn't text back after that one. He figured Tetsu would let him know what was going on when he was ready. For now, Aomine would just do what he could. He didn't object to taking care of Nigou, no matter the circumstances.

At the door to Tetsu's apartment, Aomine leaned blearily against the wall on one shoulder and dug in his pockets for the emergency key, yawning cavernously. Tetsu was just lucky that he'd been awake to get that text message, that was all. And there was no need for Tetsu to know that Aomine had been up late poring over his favorite photo books. He would keep that little tidbit to himself.

He finally found the key. It had slipped through a rip in the lining of his jacket pocket, and he had to practically turn the entire thing inside out to get the stupid thing. Before he even stuck it in the lock, though, he heard the distressed whining and scratching on the other side of the door.

"Nigou?" The dog must have heard him fumbling around out here, or smelled him or something. Aomine shook his head, coming a little more awake, and opened the door enough to slip inside.

The apartment was dark. Nigou instantly pressed up against his legs, shaking all over. Aomine stumbled back a step and leaned on the door. Nigou was a full-grown husky now, and he was large, muscular, ridiculously furry, and solidly heavy. "Nigou? Whatsamatter, pup?" Aomine reached over for his head with both hands and gave him a rough ear-rub. "Uncle Daiki is here, okay? You're gonna be fine."

Nigou whined and leaned into him even harder. Aomine tried to push him forward, tried to make some progress into the apartment so he could turn on a light and figure out what to do, but pressing against the heavy, furry weight on his legs was like trying to wade through waist-deep mud. "Nigou... C'mon, puppy, you gotta give me some room..."

Nigou refused. After struggling fruitlessly for a few minutes, Aomine gave up. Nigou was clearly in a great deal of distress, and he didn't want Aomine to move. What, was he afraid that Aomine was gonna walk out on him, too? Not gonna happen.

"It's okay. It's okay, Nigou..." Unable to do anything else, Aomine slid down to the floor, still trapped in the entryway surrounded by spare shoes and jackets on the walls. He toed off his own shoes just as Nigou lay down on his legs, trapping him in place. Aomine huffed out a laugh and began to stroke his head, scratching all five fingernails through the thick fur.

"Wow, Tetsu was right to ask me to come, huh? You big fluffy oaf. I dunno why you're so upset, but it doesn't matter. It's okay. Uncle Daiki is here. I'm not gonna leave you."

Nigou whuffed out a breath, his tail thumping reluctantly on the floor. He took a lick at Aomine's hand when it came close enough, but didn't otherwise move. Aomine yawned and leaned his head back against the wall, then kept petting him.

Nigou was unhappy, but he didn't seem to be in physical pain, which leant credence to Aomine's assumption that he wasn't hurt. Still, he found himself petting the dog methodically, from nose to tail, fingers searching through the heavy fur for any hint of a wound or other injury. He found a patch of fur on Nigou's side that felt damp to the touch, but the skin underneath was unharmed. Nigou whined when he pressed him there, though, then wiggled even closer to Aomine's stomach. So Aomine stopped checking him over and just kept petting him.

Something was seriously wrong here, but there was nothing Aomine could do about it except take care of Tetsu's dog. He'd never been one to fret much about things he had no control over. He did what he could do, fought what was in front of him, and forgot about the rest. He could surmise that Kagami had been hurt somehow, but Tetsu had already gone to the hospital to take care of him, so that was covered. He could wish that Hiroshi-san was here to comfort his sons, but he was sure that the man was already on a plane or rushing to get on one, so there was nothing he could do to help that situation, either.

So he would sit in his friend's entryway and pet his favorite animal in Tokyo. It wasn't a bad role to have in whatever fresh debacle had overwhelmed the Kagami family. He didn't hate it. Aomine slumped against the wall and let his eyes drift shut, his fingers trailing over and over through Nigou's fur. The floor was hard, but Nigou was warm and soft, and somehow that balanced out to not being uncomfortable at all.

Hours later, a beam of light from the windows in the main room sneaked far enough along the wall to strike Aomine's face. He scrunched up his nose, his head falling to the side. His neck ached abominably, and he couldn't feel his legs. He opened his eyes slowly, micrometer by micrometer, then stared blankly around himself. Each blink resolved the stubborn blurriness just a little more, until he remembered where he was and what had happened.

He squinted down at Nigou, still draped over his lap. The overgrown puppy was asleep, barrel-chest rising gently in deep, contented breaths. Aomine scratched a hand through his fur, stifling a yawn, and Nigou groaned and wiggled, then began to blink awake, too.

"Oi, Nigou. What's going on, huh? I can't believe you trapped me against the door like that, wouldn't even let me turn on a light. We woulda been comfier on the sofa, you know."

Nigou turned his head and blinked at him, but still seemed completely unwilling to move. Aomine could only chuckle. Just who was the master in this relationship, anyway? "Poor pup. You were real upset about Kagami getting hurt, weren't you? Wonder what happened to that idiot."

His fingers continued combing through the thick coat. They wandered back over to that patch of fur that had been damp last night, though of course it was dry now. Then Aomine paused, his eyes widening, his entire body frozen in shock as he realized what he was looking at.

Blood. There was blood in Nigou's fur. Just traces of it, someone had obviously tried to wash it out, but there specks of rust red here and there, sprinkled over the white and dark gray. It was...it was a large area. Like...like Nigou had been lying in a pool of blood and got soaked in it. Just...all over.

Or. Maybe it was paint, maybe Kagami and Tetsu had been painting, and someone dropped a bucket, and Kagami fell off a ladder trying to catch it in midair because he thought basketball skills applied to everything...

Or tomato sauce. It had to be some kind of sauce, right? Ketchup, or... They made a mess in the kitchen, and Kagami would have been yelling his head off, that dumbass, he was so protective of his little domestic domain, acted like the kitchen belonged to him and him alone. And he was so mad that he didn't pay attention, and he slipped in the mess on the floor and hit his head on a cupboard, just like Aomine had been thinking earlier.

That had to be it. Something like that. It couldn't really be blood. Kagami, or whoever got hurt, couldn't have possibly lost enough blood to make a pool of it. A pool of blood for Nigou to get soaked in and be so upset over that when he saw Aomine he had pressed him against the door and wouldn't let him move. Because he was scared, so scared, scared that another of his humans, his pack, was going to leave him alone. Alone in the dark and smelling of Kagami's blood.

It couldn't really be blood. But suddenly Aomine couldn't stay still anymore, sitting here, doing nothing. He vibrated with need—to stand, to move, to do something. Nigou whined in displeasure when Aomine's legs started bouncing him, and Aomine apologized, soft but sincere.

"Sorry, Nigou. I'm sorry, puppy. I need to get up. Could you please let me up?"

Nigou didn't like it. But he seemed to understand that Aomine couldn't be still anymore. He slowly got up off Aomine's legs, not without a low, deep-chested doggy grumble. Aomine levered himself to his feet, tingling with the prickly feeling of blood coming back, and leaned on the wall as he stomped his stocking feet on the floor to wake them up. He barely felt the pain of it, too occupied with the unpleasant feeling of his heart juddering in his chest.

He had to move. He had to figure this out.

As soon he could stand on his feet, Aomine pushed deeper into the apartment. Nigou pressed close on his heels, tags jingling. He searched every room, every nook and cranny. He didn't find any messes. No paint, no spilled sauce. No traces of a pool of blood, either, and surely Tetsu would have tried to clean up something like that, too, but wouldn't have had time to do a thorough job, no more than he had with Nigou.

In the kitchen, he found a cloth in the sink. It was still damp, dumped in there without being wrung out, and it had traces of red. Dark red, but more obvious than the rusty specks that littered Nigou's coat, and Aomine lifted the cloth in his hand and stared at it for a moment. Nigou pressed against his legs and whined, high and small. Aomine's fingers tightened until he felt red-tinged water trickling out between his knuckles, and then he dropped the cloth in the sink again and turned and slid down the cupboards until he sat on the floor, his knees drawn up and his fingers buried in his hair as he stared at the tiles beneath his feet and tried to breathe.

Why was there so much blood. Where had it happened. Somewhere outside? Kagami had an accident. He got hit by a car? Busted an artery, started to bleed out on the sidewalk? Tetsu called an ambulance, Nigou tried to press up to his side, got blood all over... Tetsu in the kitchen, trying to wipe the blood out of Nigou's fur with a shaking hand because he couldn't, couldn't leave that, couldn't... Then texting Aomine even while he was rushing out the door, asking for help, unable to tell him exactly what happened because it was too much, too much to handle, too much to think about, too much to share...

Nigou pressed in between his legs, anxious, ears down, and started licking his face. Aomine was startled at first, jerked back, let his head bounce off the edge of the sink, and then he laughed, small and choked and painful. "Hey, Nigou. Hey, puppy. Yeah, I'm here. It's gonna be okay..." He rubbed Nigou's head again, hard and rough, holding him by the cheeks and rocking him between his cradling hands.

"It's okay, Nigou, it's okay..." And before long he didn't know who he was saying it to. "It's okay. It's gonna be okay. Everything's okay. No way Kagami would die over something stupid like that, no matter how much blood he lost. No way something like that could happen, because we've got the Winter Cup coming up and we gotta play, we always play, we play every year. So he's not allowed, right? He's not allowed to die..."

He kept talking and he didn't know why, except perhaps that Nigou seemed to be calming down, watching him with those big blue eyes so like Tetsu's. And his tail started to thump on the floor again, slow, heavy, and Aomine couldn't stop. "Plus, what would that do to his poor little brother, huh? Tetsu loves his nii-san so much. And Kagami loves him back. So he couldn't do that. He couldn't leave Tetsu all alone. He'd never break his heart like that. It's just not possible. Kagami...that dumbass idiot... He...he freaking broke down every door that ever existed, just because he wanted to win. Because he wanted Tetsu not to cry. And this would make Tetsu cry so hard... So he can't die. He couldn't die. Right? It doesn't matter what happened, it doesn't matter how bad he got hurt, because nothing is ever gonna bring that guy down. Nothing. Not ever."

He nodded to himself because that was true. That was true. It had to be true.

Nigou pushed even closer, tail whacking the floor erratically. He snuffled in Aomine's ear, then rested his chin on his shoulder. And Aomine wrapped his arms around him and hugged him hard because there was no one there except him to care and Nigou wanted a hug, so who was Aomine to disagree.

He wished he could stop thinking about this. Wished he was dumber.

"Let's have a bath, huh, Nigou? I think we both need a real good bath."

When Akashi called several hours later, Aomine accepted the call before his ringtone even got started.

When Akashicchi called everyone to tell them what was going on, he advised them to consider carefully before going to visit. Kise felt that this advice might have been specifically aimed at him. "Tetsu-kun is under an enormous amount of stress," Akashicchi had said. "He is very angry and protective, as I'm sure we can understand. Even friendly visits right now will be initially perceived as a threat. We should give the situation some time to settle and for Tetsu-kun to begin to feel safe before we do anything to add to his distress, including visiting him."

"But Akashicchi," Kise couldn't help but protest. He could hear the high whine in his own voice and he didn't like it, but he couldn't reign it in. "Tetsuyacchi will feel better with friends to support him, won't he? Even if it feels like a threat at first, once he gets over it he'll be glad we came."

"I'm not sure that's true," Akashicchi said. "I'm not sure he found my visit soothing at all, and you know how close we've gotten over the past couple of years. He allowed my presence, but he was almost completely focused on Kagami, and that was clearly his preference. He's too polite to say so, but I'm certain that he wants privacy right now. We need to give him time."

Kise tried. He really did. But he just...couldn't focus. Nothing the teachers said seemed to make any sense. Everything sounded muffled and distant. And honestly, he was shocked that there was still school on a Tuesday when something like this was going on. Shouldn't the world have shivered to a halt when Kise's precious friends were suffering so greatly? He didn't understand it.

So he left. Akashicchi had cautioned against going, but he hadn't withheld the hospital name and room number where Kagamicchi and Tetsuyacchi were staying. Kise took his time getting there, wandering desultorily through public transport and taking care to hide his hair and shade his face so none of his fans would notice him. He didn't feel like smiling and playing nice right now. He wasn't sure he could.

He was afraid that his leisurely pace had backfired on him, though, when he arrived at the room and found it empty. Kise stared around with wide eyes, trying to suppress his panic. The sheets were mussed up and Tetsuyacchi's jacket still hung from the back of the chair, so it wasn't like he had the wrong room. What had happened? Kagamicchi couldn't have... No, he couldn't have. Akashicchi would have called him again. Unless it just happened...

Kise swung away from the room and jogged down to the nurses' station, dodging a man in a wheelchair on the way. He leaned over the desk, almost in the face of the woman who sat there, staring at a computer screen. She recoiled, eyes going wide, and Kise forced himself back a few centimeters. "That room..." he started breathlessly.

She blinked at him and raised her eyebrows, not nearly as concerned as he would have liked. Kise's hand clenched into a fist on the counter. "Kagamicchi... Kagami Taiga. Why is the room empty? Did he...?"

The nurse raised one finger and looked back to the computer screen, then began clicking her mouse. Kise almost flew to pieces, but he realized that she might be checking for him, not ignoring him, so he held it together. After a moment, she looked at him again. "His kidney function was deteriorating, so the attending physician ordered surgery to repair the damage. He's in the OR now."

Kise trembled. "Where? What floor? How long has... No. Just tell me where. Please."

She gave him directions, her eyes softening with sympathy, and Kise raced off with a hurried "Thanks!" over his shoulder. The operating room was ridiculously far away. He didn't know what he was going to do when he got there, he just knew that he had to go. As quickly as possible.

It took Kise some time to find the correct room in the maze of hallways, all blank and empty except for a single sign over each door. Then he saw something ahead and skidded to a halt, panting, hands clenched into fists at his sides. Tetsuyacchi was sitting on a bench opposite a certain door, his hands clasped together and pressed between his knees as he stared blankly across the hall.

"Tetsuyacchi..." Kise held still for a moment, just looking at him. He saw what Akashicchi was talking about. He'd never seen Tetsuyacchi look quite like this, not even when he was going through that terrible ordeal two years ago. Despite his determination to come, to offer whatever he could no matter how unwelcome he might be, Kise hesitated.

Tetsuyacchi looked...brittle. He had gotten a little taller over the years, but never physically imposing. Though Kise knew how strong he was, both physically and mentally, it was easy to overlook that strength even when staring directly at him. Now, Tetsuyacchi sat straight on the bench, his shoulders square, his eyes unblinking. He was obviously doing everything he could to be strong, to be calm, to take care of his brother even when he couldn't see him. But Kise was afraid that if he touched that slender shoulder, Tetsuyacchi would splinter like a frozen branch bent too far.

He considered leaving. Considered taking Akashicchi's advice, for once, and staying out of the way. But it felt like a lump of stone had suddenly appeared in the middle of his chest, heavy and hard and threatening to crush his heart, and he couldn't. He couldn't turn away. He could only move forward.

He moved slowly, at least. He kept his footsteps soft, his movement subtle, rather than bursting in with his usual enthusiasm. When he was a few paces away, Tetsuyacchi's eyes flickered sideways and found him there. He looked forward again without acknowledging Kise's presence, but Kise thought his shoulders might have relaxed, just a little.

It was all the encouragement Kise needed. He perked up and crossed the last little distance, then sat next to Tetsuyacchi and joined him in staring at the operating room door. He said nothing, did nothing. He could feel Tetsuyacchi radiating anger and terror and grief like a small nuclear furnace, and it was all he could do just to endure.

It was Tetsuyacchi who spoke first. "They said it was a routine surgery."

"I see." Kise kept his voice as soft as his movements.

"They said it's not unusual for...wounds like these...to develop complications hours or days after they're inflicted. The doctor acted like... Like Taiga-nii's kidneys starting to not work anymore was a normal thing. Completely normal."

"Hmm."

"A nick on his kidney. That's what the doctor called it. A nick on his kidney. Like Taiga-nii just cut his thumb while he was chopping vegetables for curry. A nick."

"Oh."

Tetsuyachhi whirled on him, his eyes fierce and hard. "Nothing about this is normal. Nothing about this is trivial."

Kise blinked at him. "No," he said. "No, it's not normal at all. Kagamicchi was attacked. That's not normal. It's not trivial. It's evil and terrible and unendurable, and we will never, ever forgive whoever did that to him."

Tetsuyachhi stared at him for a moment longer. His eyes seemed to blaze with their own heat, hard and blue and burning, like an unforgiving star. After a long, considering interval, as if he was gauging Kise's sincerity, Tetsuyacchi nodded faintly to himself, then looked forward again. His eyes still seemed to burn, but at least they were no longer aimed at Kise. Kise couldn't help slumping in relief.

"Taiga-nii is going to be okay," Tetsuyacchi said, his voice low and certain.

Kise nodded. "That's right. We're not going to let him be anything else."

"Life has knocked him down lots of times. He always gets back up."

"I know he does. I've seen him do it."

"Did you know his mom left when he was ten? Just walked right out the door. After yelling at Taiga-nii and his dad that she couldn't endure them, of course."

Kise's breath halted in his throat. "I didn't know that, no," he said after a moment, painfully. "That's horrible."

"He's doesn't like to talk about it. It's probably the worst thing that ever happened to him, even worse than when he got bit by a dog, or when Aniki said he didn't want to be brothers anymore."

Kise drew a shaky breath. "I wouldn't want to talk about it, either."

Tetsuyacchi nodded. "He gets disrespected a lot, because he still acts kind of American sometimes, and he can seem clumsy and awkward. I know he's no scholar, but he's not as stupid as some people think he is. And I hate..." He fell silent.

"You hate it when Kagamicchi isn't treated with the appreciation he deserves," Kise said.

"Yes." Tetsuyacchi stared even harder at the door, as if he could see past it if he just tried hard enough. "Taiga-nii is my big brother, and he's been taking care of me almost since the moment we met. But he takes care of other people, too, without even noticing that he's doing it. He's big and bright and strong and hardworking. And he is so, so kind. I don't think people realize just how kind he is, because we get used to it. We get used to having him around, always looking out for us, cooking food for us, asking if we're all right and catching us when we stumble, winning games and performing impossible feats just because he can't bear to see his friends cry. We're used to watching him get up when the world pushes him down, when he loses, or gets hurt, or cruel words cut him down, or someone close to him pushes him away."

Kise wasn't sure where this was going, but he was glad that Tetsuyacchi was talking to him, at least. He nodded along, because all of this was indisputably true. "Kagamicchi is a very special person," he said, not quite cheerfully, but strongly and whole-heartedly.

Tetsuyacchi nodded as if this went without saying. As it did, honestly. But sometimes it was important to say unspoken truths aloud.

"We're used to watching him get up every time," Tetsuyacchi said softly. "But what if a time comes when he can't?"

Kise's heart stuttered in his chest. But the answer was easy. "Then we'll pull him up ourselves."

Tetsuyacchi was quiet. He leaned forward, still pressing his hands between his knees. Kise realized that he was doing that to keep his hands from shaking.

"Tetsuyacchi." Kise leaned forward, too. "You forgot to mention one other time that was really difficult for Kagamicchi. Maybe even the hardest of all."

Tetsuyacchi turned to his head to stare at him, unblinking.

Kise drew a breath. He didn't much like remembering this. "Two years ago, when we were all so scared that we might lose you. You were kind of caught up in it, so you don't know... But Kagamicchi was terrified. The rest of us were too, but he... He took it the hardest. But he got through it. And so did you. We're not gonna let this time be any different."

Tetsuyacchi looked forward again. His shoulders fell down.

"This is a routine surgery, right?" Kise said, not as a question at all. "The doctor treated it like it was no big deal. Not because it isn't a big deal—it certainly is, to us, it's a terrible, horrible, awful thing that we will all have to deal with—but because the doctor knew exactly what to do. The doctors here fix damaged kidneys all the time. They know what they're doing. It's no big deal to them because they do it so often. And that's a good thing. It means that Kagamicchi is going to be just fine."

Tetsuyacchi was still for a while, considering this. Then he nodded. It was slow and weary, and his eyes fell half shut, hiding that burning blue fire. Kise breathed out a sigh of relief.

"I'm gonna stay with you, okay, Tetsuyacchi? I don't want you to be alone while you wait. Is it okay if I stay here?"

Tetsuyacchi blew out a breath and sat up straight again, then leaned back into the wall. "Yes, it's okay. Thank you, Kise-kun."

"Think nothing of it." Kise leaned back, too.

Tetsuyacchi's shoulder pressed against his, just barely. It was trembling. Kise bit his lip and did his best not to mention it.

"I bet you haven't eaten since this started, have you?" he asked instead. "When Kagamicchi is out of surgery, we should get some food for you."

"That would be nice."

Kise did not mention the other thing, that it certainly would be nice if Tetsuyacchi could get some sleep, too. He was clearly running on ten percent adrenaline, ninety percent rage. But Kise was smart enough to recognize an impossible task when he saw it. One step at a time.

Tetsuyacchi wanted to take care of his brother. That was fine and good and exactly as it should be, of course. But in the meantime, Kise would do what he could to take care of Tetsuyacchi, too. It was why he hadn't been able to stay away.

Kagamicchi would be happy that someone was looking out for his little brother while he couldn't. Kise was glad to take responsibility. Maybe the world wouldn't stop when his precious friends were in trouble, but Kise certainly would.

"Kagami-kun? Your brother's surgery went very well. You'll be able to sit with him in recovery in about fifteen minutes."

Tetsu felt himself all but collapse. He slumped where he stood, his eyes falling away from the doctor's face, and started to tip sideways. He caught up against Kise, who put an arm around his shoulders to keep him upright. He was so grateful that he could barely breathe.

The doctor said something else, a few more sentences laden with medical jargon that Tetsu didn't even try to understand. Kise responded for him, making acknowledging noises and thanking the doctor for his excellent work. Tetsu opened his mouth to thank him, too, but nothing came out. Kise's arm tightened around him.

"Tetsuyacchi?" Kise's voice seem to come from a long way away, echoing down a tunnel. "Tetsuyacchi?" He directed his voice to the doctor again. "We need to get some food for him. How will I find the recovery room later?"

The doctor gave instructions. Kise paused to rearrange the two of them, pulling Tetsu's arm over his own shoulders and wrapping his arm around Tetsu's back, then started leading him down the hallway. Tetsu followed because he couldn't think of anything better to do.

"At least we're in a hospital," Kise said with some humor in his voice. "If you faint, help is only a few steps away. Oh, there's a wheelchair! It's just sitting here empty. I could push you, if you like."

Tetsu gathered enough energy to glare up at him, and Kise laughed. It was a bright, brittle sound, so Tetsu knew it wasn't quite real. But Kise was trying, and Tetsu appreciated it.

"I saw some vending machines in the waiting area I passed a few halls back..." Kise said, still talking brightly, trying to keep it up. "I figure you don't want to take time for the cafeteria and an actual meal. But I can bring you a tray later, when we're back in Kagamicchi's room... Ah, there it is."

Tetsu felt himself being lowered to sit on a padded surface, and Kise trotted over to the machines against the wall. "Red bean soup? It'll be cold, but maybe it will taste good, anyway."

Tetsu nodded slowly, still trying to catch up. "Yes, that sounds good. Thank you, Kise-kun."

"No problem. I'm happy to help."

Left alone without support for the moment, Tetsu slumped. He felt himself falling forward and caught himself with his elbows on his knees, his hands rising to cover his face. Suddenly, he was exhausted. The burning rage that had fueled him for hours and hours had abruptly drained away, leaving him feeling bereft and empty.

Something cool touched his arm, and he dragged his head up to see Kise sitting next to him, angled to face him and holding out an opened can of soup. Tetsu forced himself to sit upright and took the can. He hoped Kise would be kind enough to ignore the tremble in his hand.

The soup was cold, but it did taste good. He hadn't realized how hungry he was. Kise looked away across the room, giving him some space.

Tetsu lowered the half-empty can to rest on his leg and stared away, too. "I'm sorry, Kise-kun."

Kise raised his eyebrows. "Whatever for?"

"I've been rather...overwhelmed, but I have the feeling that I was rude to you. To Akashi-kun, as well."

Kise shook his head. "No. You were not rude. You were upset, but we understand why. I think I should apologize, instead, for bothering you in such a difficult time."

Tetsu blinked, hard, and stared at Kise with his mouth slightly open. He never would have imagined such a sentence coming out of Kise's mouth. "You weren't bothering me. I was...surprised to see you, and perhaps I didn't react very well..." Suddenly it made sense, and he nodded as understanding dawned. "Akashi-kun. I think I rather...startled him, with the way I was acting. I may have given the impression that I wanted to be alone, but that was not my intention."

"Oh. I see." Kise relaxed subtly, then more obviously, leaning back into the chair he sat in.

Tetsu drank his soup. "But it was very mature of you to be so concerned with that, Kise-kun."

Kise laughed, the sound warmer and more natural than it had been before. "I guess I've grown up a little."

"Kasamatsu-san would be glad. And perhaps incredulous."

"Yeah." Kise grinned, his eyes sparkling. "How's the soup?"

Tetsu shook his head and lowered the can again. "Not as good as Taiga-nii's."

"Kagamicchi makes soup?"

"He's expanded his repertoire from curries and meat dishes. But his gyoza have always been amazing."

Kise groaned. "Ahhh, I am so jealous! You get to have Kagamicchi's gyoza all the time! He's stingy with everyone else."

The corner of Tetsu's mouth twitched upward. "He's only stingy with certain people, really."

"And I'm one of them?" Kise's voice was high with faux-outrage. "What did I ever do to earn Kagamicchi's dislike?"

"I don't think it was anything specific, just you being yourself in general."

Kise huffed out a laugh. "So mean, Tetsuyacchi."

Tetsu's smile tipped a little bit toward being genuine. This was a familiar conversation. Every time they got together, Kise complained about Taiga's (always very obvious) distaste for him and tried to cure it by being even more familiar and forward, which only served to perpetuate the problem. By now Kise had accepted that this was the way Taiga was, and Taiga's frostiness toward him did not all dissuade him from treating both Taiga and Tetsu as if they had been dear friends since they were in diapers.

It had almost become an inside joke amongst the group. Akashi said that Taiga was like a dignified cat who needed to be coaxed with treats and a gentle voice, and Kise was an over-enthusiastic dog who scared away the cat with too much slobber and barking. Every time Taiga started to warm toward him, Kise ruined it by taking a mile when he'd only been given an inch, and it all reverted to square one. When that happened, someone would sigh theatrically and say something like, "Ah, cats and dogs just don't get along. What a world we live in."

Now, Tetsu looked at Kise, offering as hearty a smile as he could. "Once this is over, though, I'm sure Taiga-nii will be happy to make you some gyoza as thanks for being so kind to me." It was something of a tradition in the Seirin team that whenever someone went out of their way for Tetsu, Taiga would give them food the next day. Despite Taiga's personal distaste for Kise, he would not break with tradition.

"That would make me very happy, Tetsuyacchi, thank you very much. Please talk to him about how wonderful I am. He'll only listen to you."

"I will certainly try." Tetsu heard the light note in his own voice, and he was once again intensely grateful. Who would have ever expected Kise, of all people, to be a soothing and refreshing presence in a difficult time? Yet that was exactly what he was right now.

Tetsu leaned his head against the back of the chair, almost letting it loll. The empty can rested on his thigh, held loosely in one hand. Now that the fear and rage had dispersed, he began to feel just how long he'd been awake. He had been getting ready for bed, just starting to wonder why Taiga's run was taking so long, when the police officer appeared at the door. And then the flurried attempt to help Nigou, the rush to the hospital, the agonizing wait in the emergency room where they couldn't even tell him what was going on...

Finally, in the small hours of the morning, he had been ushered to Taiga's room. There, all he could do was stand by the bed for what felt like an eternity, just watching his brother sleep. The room was dimly lighted, as nurses and doctors kept coming in at frequent intervals to check on him. They had told Tetsu that Taiga would probably sleep for hours, maybe even half the day, that he could go home and come back in the morning, but he had only shook his head.

It was only when he almost passed out from standing so still with his knees locked (bone-headed, rookie move, he still couldn't believe he'd been so stupid), that Tetsu acknowledged that he couldn't stand like a guard at his brother's bedside forever. He wanted to—nothing would have satisfied him more—but he didn't have the strength, and the emotional turmoil wasn't making it easier. With everything he'd gone through and all the healing he'd done, Tetsu had gotten very good at self-analysis, and he recognized, at last, that he couldn't continue on as he was.

So, reluctantly, he had admitted the need to sit down at least for a while. A rather comfortable chair stood against the wall just a pace away, and at some point a nurse had peeled Tetsu's jacket off his shoulders and placed it there, presumably to encourage him to rest. He took the unspoken suggestion at last and sat down in the chair, still staring at Taiga as hard as he could. That turned out to be mistake, since of course he fell asleep, bent at an awkward angle in the chair with his elbow on the arm and his head almost sideways, propped on his shoulder.

He didn't know how much later it was when he woke, but it couldn't have been more than an hour or two. But what woke him was Taiga's cry of pain as he tried to move, just tried to roll over, and that... Well, nothing could have been more effective for rousing Tetsu from a sound slumber. He had jumped up immediately and almost run to his brother's side, reaching for his hand as if by instinct. But he was still upset with himself for falling asleep in the first place. If he'd been awake, he could have warned Taiga not to move, and he wouldn't have hurt himself trying....

So after that Tetsu had dragged the chair closer to the bedside and just sat there, holding Taiga's hand, alert for any hint of movement or waking. It paid off, as Taiga's sleep had become very light and restless, frequently interrupted though only for minutes at a time. Every time he woke, he would ask if Tetsu was okay, if Nigou was okay, and perhaps a few other things as his mind wandered. Even as groggy and confused as he was, it was clear that whatever had happened to Taiga had traumatized him, enough that his rest was disturbed and his mind kept getting trapped in a loop of disjointed flashback images and sounds.

It wasn't fair. Taiga didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve any of this. Wasn't it bad enough that he'd developed a phobia of dogs because of a childhood incident? Wasn't it bad enough that his mother had abandoned him, never to be seen again? Wasn't it bad enough that he'd been discarded by his closest friend, that he'd had to live alone for an entire year when it was clearly not his preference, that injury and insult and human unkindness kept impeding him at every turn? Just how much trauma was one person supposed to take before it was too much?

The ironic part was that he knew that Taiga would say the same thing about Tetsu. If Tetsu expressed these thoughts to him, complaining on Taiga's behalf (because he would not complain for himself) that the universe was too unkind to him, Taiga would just blink and turn that sympathy back on Tetsu. Taiga was perpetually outraged by the things Tetsu had suffered, and he would never, ever let any of them go, though he forgave wounds inflicted on himself almost as soon as they happened.

It was ridiculous. Taiga was ridiculous. And he was Tetsu's big brother, and he was precious, and Tetsu loved him unreasonably, and as soon as Taiga was awake again he was going to tell him so.

"Tetsu." Kise's voice was soft, and it was closer than he'd expected. Tetsu blinked and looked up. Kise was tugging gently at the empty can in his hand. "Here, I'll get rid of this for you. And I think we can go to the recovery room now, if you're ready."

Tetsu nodded at once. Of course he was ready. He let Kise take the can, then pushed himself to his feet. He swayed slightly at the sudden change in elevation, but he spread his stance to compensate. Already he felt better, just for the little bit of food. He wasn't going to pass out. He was going to be at Taiga's side when we woke, ready to assure him once again. His weariness didn't matter. Nothing mattered but doing anything he could, anything at all, to make things even just a little bit better for his nii-san.

"Lead the way, Kise-kun," he said as strongly as he could, and Kise merely nodded and did as he asked.

Taiga was miserable. He was hard-pressed to think of a time when he had been more miserable. And it wasn't just the piercing pain in his gut or the pounding behind his eyes or the overall exhaustion that dragged at his body. In addition to all of that, he was nauseated and shivering, his throat hurt like something had been shoved in there, and he was irritated by how his eyes kept wanting to sneak shut no matter how much he struggled to keep them open.

He needed to make sure that Tetsu and his dog were okay. He didn't know why, but he really needed to make sure of that. But he couldn't move and the nurses were not being helpful. They kept asking him to rate his pain or whatever, and he didn't care, he didn't care, he just needed to see his brother and make sure he wasn't hurt.

"Is Tetsu-chan okay?" he asked the nurse who was currently fussing over him, covering him with more blankets in an attempt to quell the shivering. "I need to make sure my little brother is okay."

"Your little brother is fine, Kagami-kun," the nurse said for, like, the fifth time. "You saw him a little while ago, remember? The doctor let him come in for a five-minute visit. Now you just need to concentrate on resting and recovering from your anesthesia. Why don't you try closing your eyes?"

"I don't want to close my eyes," Taiga said. "I want to see Tetsu-chan and make sure he's okay."

"He's fine, Kagami-kun..."

"Yes, but I want to see him. He can tell me about his dog. And about Dad. I need to know about them, too."

The nurse sighed and cut her eyes outside the little curtained alcove, probably looking toward a doctor and communicating with her expression about just how exasperating Taiga was being.

Taiga scowled. Darn Japanese were always so hung up on their rules. He understood that he'd just been through a major surgery (though he couldn't remember why or when it had started), and that there were certain rules you were supposed to follow in the recovery room to prevent things from going wrong. He understood that the nurse was just doing her job. He understood that Tetsu was only supposed to visit for a few minutes. He understood just fine. None of it mattered to him.

Taiga knew he was being troublesome, a cardinal sin in this society, but he did. Not. Care.

His eyes fell shut again and he forced them open. Stupid eyes. Why wouldn't they work? Somewhere, a machine was making noises. The nurse left his alcove and had a conversation with someone outside. He heard phrases like "increasingly agitated" and "still a minor." He didn't know if that was a good sign or not.

Another voice joined the conversation and Taiga perked up a little. He recognized that one. It was the anesthesiologist who had greeted him when he first woke up, telling him that he'd been taking care of Taiga and he would continue to look out for him for the next couple of hours in recovery. Apparently, he would usually introduce himself before the surgery, not afterward, but Taiga had been unconscious at the time. So whatever.

But the guy had been nice and Taiga had taken an instinctive liking to him, so he appreciated hearing his voice now. Something about him kinda reminded him of Hyuuga-senpai. Usually that might be cause for concern, but Taiga was miserable enough to find any reminders of people he knew and trusted to be comforting and welcome.

The anesthesiologist said something firm-sounding, and the other two made noises that sounded like agreement, and then there were footsteps. Taiga concentrated on blinking and making sure that his eyes opened up after each one. It took a disconcerting amount of effort.

Then, finally, finally, that familiar head of light blue hair pushed through the curtain and moved to his side, floating through the blurriness and the tilting world, and Taiga grinned so much that it hurt his face. "Tetsu-chan!"

"I'm here, Taiga-nii."

"And you're okay?"

Tetsu smiled, relief shining his eyes. Maybe he had missed Taiga just as much as Taiga had missed him. "I'm okay. Nigou is okay, too. Dad is on his way. He called to let me know that he was just about to board a plane. That was half an hour ago."

"Okay. Okay. Good." Taiga's empty hand flexed against the sheets, though he had no idea why. Tetsu noticed. He didn't say anything, just picked up Taiga's hand in both of his and held on tight. His hands were warm and strong and familiar, and Taiga sighed in relief and thought about maybe letting his eyes stay shut for a little while. Maybe.

Tetsu shared a glance with the nurse, then looked back to Taiga. "How are you feeling, Taiga-nii? The nurse said you were refusing to answer her questions."

Taiga made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat. Carefully, though, so as not to move his stomach. "She wouldn't listen to me, so why should I listen to her?"

Tetsu frowned. "It's not like you to be so impolite, Taiga-nii."

"I'm an Americanized returnee brat, remember? Of course it's normal for me to be impolite."

Tetsu frowned harder, but didn't pursue this. "Are you in pain?"

Taiga sighed and nodded, because he couldn't ignore Tetsu's questions, as much as he might like to. He didn't usually care when Tetsu frowned at him, but right now it was making him feel kind of wobbly, even though he was lying down. "I can't remember ever hurting this much before."

The nurse said something, but Taiga ignored her, as had become his habit. Tetsu glanced at her, then looked back to him. "What about your stomach? Do you feel nauseated?"

"Yeah. Like...wayyy much. So much, Tetsu-chan. 'Sweird. I don't like it."

The nurse talked again. Tetsu blinked. "How about your head?"

"Feels like there's a mountain full of dwarves in there with pickaxes trying to find gold or something."

Tetsu smiled faintly. "Such fanciful imagery, Taiga-nii."

Taiga yawned. "I don't have much else to think about."

"Anything else bothering you?"

Taiga squinted at him. It wasn't obvious? "I'm kinda cold." He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Also, I think I got stabbed in the gut. Like, three or four times."

Taiga nodded solemnly. "We'll do what we can to fix that."

He said something to the nurse, and the anesthesiologist said something, and the nurse moved to the bedside and started putting things in the IV. Taiga watched her suspiciously for a moment, then returned his attention to Tetsu. "Oh, hey. Was I just talking in English?"

"A little bit. Don't worry. I understand you just fine."

"I'm sorry. I should be more respectful."

Tetsu shook his head. "I've gotten a lot better at English over the last two years, remember? Sometimes we have entire conversations in English. The first-years at Seirin are very jealous."

"Oh." Whatever the nurse had put in the IV started to hit then. The nausea suddenly abated, and the pounding in his head became more bearable. "Oh, wow." Taiga rolled his head over to look at the nurse. "That's...nice."

Tetsu squeezed his hand. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah, a little." Taiga rolled his head over to look at him again. Then he looked a little more closely, now that his vision suddenly made more sense. "Hey, Tetsu-chan, are you sure you're okay? You look...really tired. Like, really tired."

"I'm fine, Taiga-nii. I promise."

"Have you been eating?"

"Just a little bit ago I had some soup, actually. Kise-kun bought it for me."

"Really? That guy?" Taiga made a face like he was smelling bad onions. He wasn't sure why. He was usually a little better at controlling his reactions, and he knew that Tetsu and Kise were friends. He didn't want Tetsu to feel bad about being friends with the guy. He just...really didn't like Kise. And right now he felt kind of loose and uncoordinated, and things kept coming out of his mouth even though he didn't plan them.

Tetsu just nodded solemnly, though, like he hadn't expected any other response. "Kise-kun has been taking care of me. He sat with me while you were in surgery, then made sure that I ate something. He's out in the lounge right now, waiting just in case I need him again."

"Oh." Taiga was somewhat mollified. "I guess he can be a pretty good guy sometimes."

Tetsu smiled, small, almost invisible. "You are very open right now, Taiga-nii. I think the anesthesia might still be affecting you."

"Yeah, whatever. I don't care."

Tetsu tilted his head to the side. "Could I ask you something?"

"Yeah, of course. Ask me anything." Taiga nodded expansively. He would never refuse Tetsu.

"Why do you dislike Kise-kun so much, even after all this time? By now you get along well enough with most of my other old teammates."

"Hnh."

"Does he just rub you the wrong way? We always joke that he's a dog and you're a cat, and he keeps scaring you off when he just wants to make friends."

"Eh, that's part of it." Taiga didn't have to think too hard to find the true answer, though. He blinked, long and slow, his eyes fixed on Tetsu's face. "Mostly it's just because, y'know, he made you bleed that one time."

Tetsu stared at him, his face blank and uncomprehending.

Taiga waved vaguely in the air with his free hand. "You know. That one time. Back at the beginning. Before...before everything, pretty much."

Understanding dawned on Tetsu's face. "The practice match with Kaijo? Back in the beginning of our first year?"

Taiga nodded. His head felt too big for his neck. "Yeah, that time."

"Taiga-nii, that was an accident. We were in the middle of a game, and he just grazed my head. It could have happened to anyone."

"Still. He made you bleed, and you couldn't play for a while, and we had to get you checked out at a hospital later. That's a big deal, Tetsu-chan, and he never apologized." Taiga narrowed his eyes as a thought occurred to him. "Or did he apologize to you in private sometime? Where I just didn't see it?" A lead balloon of guilt started to expand in his chest. "Oh, man, I can't believe I assumed like that. I'm such an idiot."

Tetsu squeezed his hand. "Taiga-nii, Taiga-nii, stop that. Don't feel bad. It's true, he never apologized for that. I suppose neither of us ever felt it was necessary. It was just an accident on the court. It happens."

Taiga frowned at him. "You shouldn't take it so lightly when someone injures you, Tetsu-chan," he said reproachfully. "People shouldn't get to injure you without apologizing. You're important."

Tetsu smiled, and Taiga's world tilted toward being balanced again. "Thank you, Taiga-nii. I know how seriously you take injuries to me. What if Kise-kun apologized to me in your presence? Do you think you might like him better?"

Taiga felt his eyebrows wrinkle in skepticism. "Maybe. It might help. He's still super, suuuuppeeerrr annoying, though."

Tetsu laughed, soft and gentle and amused. "I guess cats and dogs still don't get along, then."

Taiga sighed and drooped back against the pillows, his eyes falling half shut. More than the medicine (which was very, very nice), and the extra blankets the nurse kept bringing him, and the security of knowing that he was being taken care of by good doctors, seeing Tetsu smile and hearing him laugh did more to make him feel better than anything else in the world. He tightened his hand around Tetsu's in return and started to feel just a little bit safe.

"You should sleep, Taiga-nii."

Taiga opened his eyes wide to stare at him again. "Only if you promise to rest, too, Tetsu-chan. I don't like you looking so gaunt."

Tetsu hesitated, then nodded. "Of course. It's a bargain."

"Okay. Good." Taiga tilted his head back to stare up at the ceiling. "I guess I could probably sleep, then. The world's all...floaty."

"That's the anesthesia, Taiga-nii. You need to sleep it off."

"Okay. If you say so, Tetsu-chan."

"I do. Go to sleep, big brother. Everything will be okay."

Taiga felt himself relaxing, slowly but surely. He let his eyes drift shut, though he didn't quite tip over the edge of the abyss, yet. The noises and images that had bothered him before every time he tried to sleep seemed buried under the fuzziness of the world. It was comfortable, and Tetsu's hand was warm, and he kind of wanted to just stay awake and revel in how nice it all felt.

There was a brief rustle at the side of the bed, and Taiga let his eyes slide open just in time to watch Tetsu lean over and kiss him on the forehead. His lips were dry and warm, and the touch was brief, but it was so incredibly comforting that Taiga was at a loss for words. He couldn't make a sound. He just appreciated the great affection in that tiny gesture.

Tetsu leaned back again, and Taiga just stared at him for a moment, blinking. "What...what was that for?"

Tetsu smiled, slow and wide. "Taiga-nii is being very cute right now."

"Oh." Taiga considered. He wasn't sure how to take that. "But it's just the anesthesia, right? It'll wear off."

Tetsu shook his head. "Taiga-nii is always adorable."

Taiga blew out a breath through pursed lips. "Well, Tetsu-chan is an idiot. And I'm going to go to sleep now." He lifted his free hand to point at Tetsu. "You'd better keep your promise and get some sleep, too."

"I will, Taiga-nii. I would never break a bargain with you."

"No. Of course not."

Taiga allowed his eyes to close again. This time, he let the world fade away. Everything was going to be okay. Tetsu said so.

Whenever Akashi was in Tokyo, he came over to Midorima's house to play shogi. Usually the visits were calm and relaxing. The two of them would play for hours, rarely speaking beyond what was necessary for the gameplay. They preferred to play in a solar with the garden just outside the windows, which in fair weather would be open to allow a fresh-smelling breeze.

Today was unusual for several reasons. Midorima had chosen to play truant from school, aware that he would be unable to concentrate on the teachers' lectures and it was illogical to waste time on such a profitless activity. He had come home to his family's large-but-not-extravagant house and walked calmly through the halls back to this room, changed into a yukata, then knelt on the floor by the shogi table and rested his hands on his thighs. And he waited.

He closed his eyes, breathing long and slow. He thought about the stars, and the plans of men, and the caprices of gods. He thought about the balance of fortune and misfortune, why it seemed that some lives were piled high with one while some were weighed down with the other. He thought about fate, and he thought about those who railed against it. He thought about a strong young man who gave everything he could to everyone around him. He thought about a somewhat weaker young man who also gave his all until he could give no more. He thought about what those two young men had received from their friends, from their family, from the world around them. He thought about what they deserved.

Eventually he heard the soft sounds of someone setting up the shogi board. He opened his eyes, slowly so that the light wouldn't burn, and looked across the table. Akashi knelt there, also dressed in the traditional yukata, solemnly setting out the pieces they had played with so many times. He looked up at Midorima and nodded, then sat back on his heels and waited for Midorima to take the first move.

"You've already posted bodyguards," Midorima said, moving his hand to pick up his favored pieces for the opening fortress. It was not a question. Akashi would not have left the hospital until he was certain that the Kagami brothers were as safe as humans could make them.

Akashi nodded. He watched Midorima's hand glide across the board, his eyes barely blinking. "No one else will harm them."

A simple statement, but profoundly difficult to keep. Midorima knew that Akashi was serious, though. He lowered his hands to his lap and watched Akashi make his move. "I presume that you have contacts in the police department."

"A few," Akashi said. Probably an understatement. "I also hired a private investigator."

"When do you expect results?"

Akashi's eyes flickered to his face. "Soon." His voice was grim. A yellow spark lit in his eye, then faded.

Midorima nodded and looked back to the board. "I would like to know where it happened," Midorima said.

A faint frown flickered over Akashi's lips. "There's very little you could accomplish with that information. Practically nothing, I would say."

"Still. I would like to know."

Akashi's head bobbed in slow acknowledgement, not agreement, just understanding of the request. Midorima was asking for information that he could not get on his own. The police had not released the details of the location to any of the new outlets, which Midorima had been monitoring religiously. But Akashi had contacts. And a private investigator. And more money than a god. He could grant Midorima's wish, if he chose.

Midorima waited. He did not fidget. The game progressed as it always did, with gambits back and forth interspersed with occasional moments of improvisation. Midorima knew he was too agitated to attempt one of the strategies he had been slowly piecing together over the last few weeks in anticipation of the next time they would play, so he simply let the game flow as it would.

Akashi, on the other hand, seemed intent on crushing Midorima swiftly and completely. It was in stark contrast to his usual controlled, almost genteel style. Midorima did not need great insight into the human condition to understand why. When other aspects of life were out of one's hands, at least it was still possible to destroy the opponent on a game board. Midorima was willing, in this one matter, to be the sacrificial lamb to Akashi's bloodthirst.

Perhaps it would incline Akashi to listen and respond to his request. But even if it didn't, this was still a tactic that Midorima was willing to implement, despite the slight injury it did to his pride. He had seen Akashi unfettered, releasing everything without discrimination, and it was not a sight he wanted to see again. Better to offer an outlet. Rather, he was glad that Akashi was taking it.

These games were usually sacrosanct. They shed their trappings of wealth and position, even down to wearing traditional clothes, and entered this room with only their intellects to support them. It was sport in the purest form—one mind bent against the other, both fully intent on winning.

Today was not a usual day. Akashi was lifting a piece in his hand, eyes narrowed as he contemplated where to place it, when the buzz of a phone notification cut through the atmosphere. He immediately set the shogi piece down and lifted his phone, which had been beside him on the floor the entire time.

Midorima had spent a lot of time learning to read Akashi's face. Akashi's expression changed very little, but he still saw relief there. Akashi raised his head and looked Midorima. "Kagami is out of surgery. It went well."

Midorima raised his eyebrows. He hadn't known that Kagami was in surgery to begin with. "Kagami Tetsuya texted you?"

Akashi shook his head and lowered the phone to set it down again. "Kise. He texted me an hour ago to let me know that he'd gone to the hospital after all. He found Kagami in surgery to repair damage to his kidney, Tetsu-kun waiting outside. Kise and Tetsu-kun are outside the recovery room now, waiting to be allowed to visit."

Midorima frowned. He knew that complications from these kinds of wounds were common, but this was still distressing news. At least Kagami Taiga was recovering, now. And it sounded like Kise had been wise to go and provide Kagami Tetsuya some support.

The phone buzzed again, and Akashi lifted it back up. His eyes flickered over the new message, then he lowered the phone again. This time he smiled, small, the first note of happiness Midorima had seen in him since he arrived, though it was subdued.

He looked at Midorima. "Kise informs me that Tetsu-kun would welcome visitors. But he needs to get some rest. Kise is going to do his best to make sure that he gets a solid meal and a few hours of sleep."

Midorima nodded. It wouldn't usually be his preference to put Kise in a role of caretaking. But this was a strange day. Kise's stubborn devotion despite Akashi's warnings had paid off, and it seemed that Kagami was willing to accept his presence. It was probably best to leave this task to Kise, for now.

In the meantime, there had to be something that the rest of them could do. Midorima's hands clenched into fists at his sides. Akashi thought it was useless, and he was probably right. But it was not in Midorima's constitution to neglect any possibility of tipping fortune in his favor, no matter how small the odds.

"Please tell me where it happened."

Akashi set the phone down and faced Midorima across the shogi table, his face solemn. "You're done playing shogi?"

Midorima allowed the curl of a lip. "Everything is shogi, Akashi. You know that better than anyone."

Yellow flickered in Akashi's eye again. "I know that it is bad strategy to dispatch a gold general in an area that already has sufficient pawns to overcome the enemy."

"Yet in a dangerous situation, overwhelming force is better than not enough."

"Sometimes it is better to keep power in reserve, the better to employ it when it becomes necessary."

"And other times it is best to respond as the situation warrants it."

Akashi was silent. Then he shook his head, gently. "Have you forgotten how many times I've beaten you, my friend? My strategy is superior to yours."

Midorima's fingernails bit into his palms. "You forget that I am not actually a shogi piece. I have a will of my own. And I do not wish to sit still, no matter how useless motion may be. What reserve can we possibly keep in a situation like this? Please tell me where it happened."

Akashi watched him for a moment, then looked down at the board. "Defeat me, and I will tell you, since you will have proved yourself a better strategist than I. At least today."

Midorima set his jaw in grim determination. "That is acceptable."

He lifted the next piece, which was a drop. His best hope was to catch Akashi off-guard, to divert from the usual patterns and strike where an attack was unexpected. Now that this game had become a step toward accomplishing the goal he truly wanted to reach today, he found it much easier to concentrate. His focus planed down to a single point.

He would, indeed, employ that strategy he had been developing. There was no better time than now.

It was a long battle. Shogi always was. As Midorima abruptly became more aggressive and determined, Akashi suddenly seemed to pull back on his own offensive tactics. This did not make the fight easier for Midorima. Indeed, Akashi on defense was just as demonic as Akashi on offense. He always seemed to know exactly where Midorima was going to push forward and exactly how to counter each attempt at gaining an advantage.

Midorima kept several battlefronts going at once. Slowly, through endless movement, endless thrusts forward followed by endless retreats, sacrifice followed by capture followed by sacrifice and capture in long, slow loops of circulating advantage, Midorima began to whittle down Akashi's forces. Through years of playing together, he could sometimes predict Akashi's next move. Not always, by any means, and Akashi could also predict him. But Midorima was aware of that. Bit by bit and piece by piece, slight predilections and patterns began to make a noticeable difference.

Midorima felt afire. Shogi was such a close-range game that it was usually impossible to see more than a few moves ahead. And yet he felt that he could see the branching routes in front of him, innumerable, thin winding streams that split and split and split, veins of blood all limned in golden light. He saw the infinite dead ends where he lost. He saw the vanishingly few paths where he still stood a chance. And he chose one of those with no hesitation and no hint of a flinch.

Shogi was a game that became more complex as the game went on, not less. But as with every strategy game, there was always a point of no return. A point where both players began to realize that there would be only one outcome for the match. It wasn't obvious, by any means, and even looking back on the match with a transcript of the moves, it would be difficult even for a seasoned professional to spot the exact moment when the game began to flow in one direction and one direction only. But midway through the endgame, Midorima and Akashi both knew who the winner would be.

They played on, grimly. Neither would end the match prematurely. The loser did not concede, and the winner did not demand that his eventual victory be acknowledged. The match might have already been decided, and just as in basketball, there were no quick comebacks in shogi. There would be no last-minute turnaround, no Hail Mary play in the last few seconds of the game. As in a military battle, superior positioning and material advantage would win out. But they played to the bitter end.

In the end, the king was captured, and the game concluded. Akashi sat back on his heels and raised his head, which had been bent studiously over the game board without wavering. Midorima looked back at him. His eyes burned from being held open for too long. He needed water. His hands clenched to fists in his lap.

He felt that his lips must be cracked and split, since he felt that he'd been standing in blistering heat for hours and days. But when he opened his mouth, there was no pain, no tender swell of blood. He had just played the best game of shogi in his life, and it meant almost nothing to him except for what it might have bought him.

Yet what came out of his mouth was not the question he had expected to hear from himself. "Did you let me win?"

Akashi stared back at him. His expression did not shift an iota. He was perfectly composed, perfectly blank. Midorima might as well have tried to divine emotion from an empty glass.

"Of course not," Akashi said. "Such manipulative mind games are beneath us, especially in such a fraught time for both of us. This was your win, and you earned it fairly. Well done."

Midorima closed his eyes and swayed where he knelt. "Then tell me where it happened."

He felt instead of saw Akashi nod, slow and grave. "Of course. I will keep our bargain. You have proved yourself to be a highly skilled strategist. You deserve to know everything there is to know."

Midorima opened his eyes, shocked by the openness in Akashi's voice. Akashi offered him a smile, slow and genuine. It reached his eyes. Midorima didn't know what to think.

"Besides, if there's anyone in the world who I can trust with all the resources I have, isn't you? We have been partners, we have been rivals, and we have been opponents in both basketball and shogi. In our last year of middle school, you should have shattered with the rest of us. We certainly did everything we could to ensure that you would. And yet you remained yourself, always, without exception. Steady, hard-working, morally sound Midorima. The only one of us, besides Kuroko, who held any shred of integrity at all. I'm sorry I forced you to go through this ordeal just now. You shouldn't have had to prove yourself to me with a game of shogi. You did that long ago."

Midorima's mouth felt dry as a dessert. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Not even a breath of air, like the wind over sand.

"So yes, Midorima, I will tell you where it happened. I will tell you everything I know. May the knowledge serve you better than it has me."

Akashi pushed himself back from the shogi board and bowed down to the floor, a profound gesture of respect that Midorima had never dreamed to see from him. After a moment to take it in, he reciprocated.

"Thank you very much, Akashi. I pray the same."

Himuro met Atsushi at the train station. It was late afternoon, so hopefully enough time had passed for Akashi's warning about visiting too soon to have expired. Himuro stood on the platform, his hands jammed into the pockets of his coat to ward off the chill, and waiting patiently for Atsushi to spot him through the crowd and push his way to him. Atsushi's height made it easy for Himuro to find him, no matter where they were, but Himuro had long ago decided to be still and let Atsushi come to him instead of chasing him down. Atsushi had grumbled at first, forced to move when he didn't want to, but he'd gotten used to it.

Today, Atsushi's movements were agitated. He vibrated off the train like a giant tree that had somehow been galvanized by lightning. (Taiga's nickname of "giant purple tree buddy" seemed to have stuck in Himuro's head, and wasn't that just the cherry on top of a wonderful day.) People got out of Atsushi’s way even quicker than they usually did, and he locked eyes on Himuro and reached him in just a few loping strides.

"Muro-chin," he said, rare emotion erasing his usually lazy tone and diction. "Let's go see Kaga-chin and Tetsu-chin now."

Himuro allowed a dry quirk of his lips. "Not even time for a greeting, Atsushi? No manners to spare for your old senpai?"

"They're your brothers, too. You know how I feel."

Himuro managed something like a smile, though it seemed to pull painfully at his face. He did know how Atsushi felt. Though he had started with Taiga as his brother and adopted Tetsu by default, and Atsushi had gone the opposite way, they both had very strong, very clear feelings about the Kagami family. As soon as Himuro had gotten the call from Akashi, he had known that Atsushi would be on the next train from Akita. An exchange of texts had confirmed it. And here they were.

"Let's go, then."

They went by the swiftest route Himuro could put together after half a year of living in Tokyo full-time for university, with only one stop on the street outside the hospital to pop into a convenience store at Atsushi's insistence. "I bet Tetsu-chin hasn't been eating," Atsushi said darkly as he piled a basket high with chips, crackers, candy, and onigiri. "He never eats enough when he's feeling sad. And nothing could make Tetsu-chin sadder than something bad happening to his nii-san."

Himuro nodded, though he had doubts about the hospital staff even allowing them in the door with so many bags full of snack food. But it turned out not to be an issue. Anyone who could have stood in their way was either intimidated by Atsushi's bulk or charmed by Himuro's smile—or both—and they made it to Taiga's room without incident.

There, Himuro ignored the two men loitering outside the door and stepped inside. He was surprised to find Kise sitting at Taiga's bedside, Tetsu sacked out in a recliner behind him, covered with a couple of jackets. Himuro’s eyes only lingered on Kise for a moment, though, before they went to Taiga's face. And stayed there.

Himuro stepped closer to the bed, step by weary, painful step. His body seemed to drag at him. Dread clawed at his heart. He was so pale. Why was he so pale? And his eyes were closed, and Himuro couldn't see his chest moving...

"He's okay," Kise said, and Himuro looked up. His eyes were so wide that they hurt. Kise offered a smile, weary and subdued. "Well, he will be. He was stabbed, and he's having trouble staying asleep, and he's worried about Tetsuyacchi, and he doesn't feel safe despite the guards Akashicchi posted outside, and he had to have surgery to repair his kidney. But he's going to be okay. All the doctors say so. Your little brother is going to survive this."

Himuro's eyes went back to Taiga's face. He was vaguely aware of Atsushi, in the corner of his vision, bending down to look in Tetsu's sleeping face. Hopefully he would know well enough not to wake Tetsu when he was getting some rest. Himuro couldn't spare the breath to admonish him.

"He looks terrible," Himuro said. It was the only thing that came to his lips, though there were a lot of other things he wanted to say, wanted to ask. Surgery? He didn't feel safe? Why was he worried about Tetsu?

"Well, he got stabbed," Kise said slowly. "He lost a lot of blood. And like I said, he keeps waking up, so his rest isn't great. He can't really help how he looks."

Himuro shook his head, still staring unwaveringly at Taiga's face. "He looks terrible," he said again, softer.

Kise seemed to understand that there was no response to this, and was silent.

Himuro knew it was selfish, but he wanted Taiga to wake up. From what Kise said, Taiga needed to rest for as long as he could. But right now, Himuro wanted to see his eyes. Wanted to see him lift a hand and rub it over his face, wanted to hear his voice. He wanted proof...

Kise's voice was softer than it had been before. "He's gonna be okay. I know it looks bad... But Kagamicchi is tough, you know. He's probably the toughest of any of us. He wouldn't want you to worry."

Slowly, reluctantly, Himuro dragged his eyes away from Taiga to look at Kise. Kise looked tired, too, his face drawn and weary. It was as if he had been fighting some terrible enemy all day long, and he was just about at the end of the strength. But he was still holding it together for the sake of his friends. He had accepted this position, watching over Kagami Taiga and Kagami Tetsuya, despite the cost to him. Rather, he had volunteered for it.

"Has he woken up?" Himuro asked. "Has he spoken to you?"

Kise smiled. "I told you he hasn't been able to stay asleep. The doctors said he would sleep for half the day after his surgery, but yeah, he's been waking up every hour or so. He always asks if Tetsuyacchi is okay, which is a bit insulting, you know. He has no interest at all in my lovely face." Kise's smile broadened at this, his eyes sparkling, and Himuro couldn't help but smile back.

"Do you think he'll wake again soon?"

"Maybe?" Kise shrugged, and it became immediately obvious just how very exhausted he was. This must have been a dreadful day for him, first finding out that something horrible had happened to people he valued, then putting himself in an uncomfortable and unfamiliar role in order to help. And keeping it up for hours, apparently.

Himuro's heart softened. "I understand." He walked around the bed, moving slowly, and put a hand on Kise's shoulder. "Why don't you go home and get some rest? I'll take over from here."

Kise started to protest, but his shoulders slumped in relief, and that was all the answer Himuro needed. He gently chivvied Kise out of the chair and walked him to the door, a hand still on his shoulder. "I'll keep you all updated, of course. Taiga and Tetsu-chan will no doubt be glad for more visitors tomorrow. But they're my brothers, and they're precious to me. You can trust me to take care of them through the night."

Kise slumped where he stood even more, and he gave Himuro a look that was half gratitude, half resignation. "Hiroshi-san will be here in the middle of the night, I think. He's already on a plane. I doubt he'll stop home before coming here. So you have a rumpled, sweaty, frantic businessman to look forward to."

Himuro grinned crookedly at the image. "Thanks for the warning."

Kise lingered in the doorway for a moment longer, looking back at Taiga and Tetsu with an expression that made Himuro's heart clench in his chest. Then he gave Himuro a final, resolute nod, passing the baton, trusting him to take responsibility. And he left. Himuro hoped he would be okay.

He was more worried about the young men still in the room, though. Himuro turned around to take it in. Taiga and Tetsu were still asleep, which could only be a good thing. Atsushi had plopped down on the floor next to Tetsu's recliner and was now doing something with the snacks he'd bought. Himuro stepped cautiously over to have a look.

"Atsushi? What are you doing?"

"Sorting."

Ah. The snacks were all laid out in a couple of rows. On the end of one row were Atsushi's favorite potato chips. On the opposite end of the other row was a bag of vanilla taffy. Himuro remembered Tetsu eating a similar candy with one of the most blissful expressions Himuro had ever seen on him.

"You're sorting by your favorites to Tetsu-chan's favorites?"

Atsushi nodded. He pointed at his favorite chips. "If I get hungry, I'll start on this end. So there should be plenty left for Tetsu-chin when he wakes up."

Himuro smiled. This was remarkably thoughtful. Maybe Atsushi was growing up, too. Himuro was amazed and proud.

"You should sit with Kaga-chin," Atsushi said. "I bet he wakes up soon. He'll be glad to see you."

"Thank you, Atsushi," Himuro said solemnly. "That's good advice."

Atsushi nodded as if this went without saying.

Himuro picked his way carefully past the recliner, not without a lingering look at Tetsu's face (wow, the kid looked wrung out, his forehead wrinkled even in sleep), and made his way to the chair by Taiga's head. The chair was already angled to make it easy to keep an eye on both Tetsu and Taiga, but he turned it a little further toward Taiga. Atsushi was here to look out for Tetsu. Himuro had no doubt that he would be fine.

He studied his brother. His friend. His best and oldest connection to America, to everything he'd left behind and everything he saw approaching in the future. The pig-headed, soft-hearted basketball idiot who frustrated and charmed and enraged and awed Himuro, who had driven him to tears of more than one kind on more than one occasion.

Taiga, through just being his huge, powerful, talented self, had unintentionally caused Himuro a great deal of pain. But Himuro had also caused him enormous pain in return, and that had not been quite so unintentional. Himuro was still humbled and amazed that Taiga had wanted to consider him a brother again at all, never mind the fact that he had wanted to call him Aniki.

He still remembered that soft, red-faced request, as they stood on the train platform after the Winter Cup saying their good-byes. They had already said everything else and were just about to take their leave of each other. Himuro had, in fact, been in the act of turning around to go. And Taiga had reached out and touched his arm, suddenly flushing, suddenly seeming much smaller than his usual height. He looked down and scuffed his foot on the concrete, then glanced up and met Himuro's eye for a moment. He looked away again and asked, so quietly that Himuro could barely hear him, "Would it be okay if I called you Aniki?"

Himuro had been too stunned to answer at first, just staring at Taiga with his mouth hanging open. He knew how important it had been to Taiga that they mend their relationship, and he knew how much Taiga valued him and wanted to be close to him. He also knew that Taiga was rather lonely, living alone in the enormous city of Tokyo without his father, without any ties to his former life in America. He was making new connections with his new team, and even as an outsider, Himuro could see how important those were. How strong and durable and long-lasting. But he hadn't realized that Taiga wanted to strengthen this connection, too.

He didn't think he deserved Taiga's trust. Not to this extent. Not after the way he'd treated him.

So he'd been too shocked to respond, and then Atsushi had rushed over and bulled him onto the train just as it was pulling out. Himuro's last glimpse of Taiga was far too distant, far too impersonal, hazed and flattened through a thick window as Taiga still stood there alone on the platform looking vulnerable and lost. Himuro hated it so much that he tried to force his way off the train so he could get back to him and give him an answer.

The doors were already shut, and Himuro dug his hands into his hair in supreme frustration. The only choice was to call him on the phone, which was not what he wanted. But it would have to do.

As soon as Taiga answered, Himuro was yelling, "Yes! Yes, Taiga! Okay? Yes, you can call me Aniki. You can call me whatever you want. I'm so sorry! I want you to call me Aniki. I want that, I do!"

People around him were startled by the noise, stared at him for making such a scene, and Himuro flushed, but he was completely focused on his phone. And then Atsushi snickered, and someone else on the team laughed, and people were bumping his shoulders and ruffling his hair, and even strangers were smiling. "Is this a shoujou manga?" someone asked, and Himuro didn't care. Not even a little bit. He was just waiting for Taiga to respond.

Apparently it was Taiga's turn to be stunned, because the line was quiet for a moment. Then came Taiga's voice, quiet and choked. "Okay. Thank you, Aniki. I will."

"You have to text me, okay? At least once a week. And call whenever you need to. And I'll call you, too."

"Okay, Aniki. I will." Taiga's voice was stronger now, edging toward joyful.

"Okay, then. Okay." And now Himuro was at a loss for words again, his mind blank. His teammates kept jostling him and strangers were still grinning, and he didn't know what else to say. "I'm glad, Taiga. I'm really glad."

"Me too, Aniki."

Then he could hear the smile in Taiga's voice, bright and beautiful and incandescent. He could picture it, the way it would take up the entirety of his face, squinting his eyes and bending his eyebrows. In that moment, it was all Himuro needed. Everything was good. Everything was great. Wonderful, in fact.

Now, Himuro wanted to see that smile again. Wanted it so bad that it was a burning in his chest, fighting with his ability to breathe. He wanted Taiga to open his eyes and look at him, and smile, and call him Aniki. But Taiga slept on, pale and still and strangely small on the bed, and all Himuro could do was sit here and make sure he kept breathing.

He wanted to do a lot more. But if this was the only task available to him, he would take it.

Shin-chan missed basketball practice.

Shin-chan never missed basketball practice.

Takao arrived at his house to find Shin-chan in the entryway, putting on his shoes. His movements were sharp and jerky, agitated, and his face was set in a scowl. He barely looked up when Takao came in the door, just gave him a glance, then stared down at his shoes again. He pulled the laces so tight that they cut into his fingers and turned them red and white. "Of course you didn't knock," he griped. "You never knock."

Takao paused inside the door, staring at him. "You played hooky," he said. He tried to sound accusatory and disgruntled, but it came out more worried than anything else. "You never play hooky."

Shin-chan straightened up to his full height, which was even more impressive now, and looked down at him over his nose. "It would have been useless to stay at school. I didn't want to waste my time."

He brushed past Takao, reaching for the door. Takao barely got out of the way in time, then scrambled to follow him out. Shin-chan's movements were still hasty and sharp, lacking his usual graceful efficiency. Something was seriously wrong here.

"Hey, hey, hey." He lunged for Shin-chan's arm and managed to snag it. Shin-chan halted on the path outside his door, standing straight and rigid and still. His arm trembled in Takao's grip, though Takao had no guess as to why. Fear? Anger? Was Shin-chan hurt or sick? Why was he in such a hurry?

"Hey," Takao said, more gently this time. He gave Shin-chan's arm a tug, trying to reel him in. He expected Shin-chan to resist, but instead he turned back to face Takao on the path. His face was wrenched up in some strange emotion, and Takao's heart sank like a stone. "What's going on, Shin-chan? Are you okay?"

"It's not me," Shin-chan said. "I'm perfectly whole."

Takao tilted his head. This did not strike him as being particularly truthful. "Where are you going? I'll come with you."

Shin-chan snorted and looked away, his eyes glinting behind his glasses. "Of course you will."

"Yeah, of course I will. So don't try to get away from me, huh? You know I'll chase you down."

Shin-chan held still for a moment longer, then suddenly seemed to deflate. His shoulders relaxed and his arm stopped trembling, and he faced Takao fully again. His face looked more like his usual expression, though even more tight-mouthed and grim than usual. "Yes, I know."

After a considering interval, Takao let go of his arm and stuck his hands in his pockets. Sunset was dying in the west and streetlights were starting to come on, casting Shin-chan's face in a strange mixture of dark red and soft yellow light. "So where are you going, Shin-chan? What's the big rush?"

"I have to do something. This is...unconscionable."

"What is?"

Shin-chan shook his head and turned away, but this time he motioned with his head for Takao to follow. "Let's talk on the way to the bus stop."

"The bus stop? We're not taking the rickshaw?"

"It's too far away."

"Oh, and you're in a hurry. All right, I understand. Tell me what's going on, Shin-chan."

The story didn't take long. Still, Takao found himself having some difficult taking it in. "Kagami Taiga...was stabbed," he echoed when Shin-chan finished. They were walking side-by-side down the sidewalk. Takao's elbow kept bumping Shin-chan's arm. "He was stabbed in the street. By an unknown assailant."

Shin-chan nodded sharply. "Yes. That's what happened."

Takao laughed, but not because it was funny. "That's amazing. Just how much bad luck can one family have? Does the universe have it out for them or something? First all of that with poor Tetsu-chan two years ago, and now this..."

Shin-chan grunted.

Takao looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "I get why you skipped school and basketball practice. So are we gonna go visit them at the hospital?"

"No. I sincerely doubt that I could offer any assistance in that setting."

Takao's eyebrows rose. "Then...where...?"

Shin-chan paused abruptly. Takao took one further step, then caught himself and turned back, staring at him. Shin-chan looked even grimmer than before. "I'm sorry. It occurs to me that this might be dangerous. You shouldn't come."

Takao had to laugh again, mostly at the utter seriousness in Shin-chan's face. "What? What are you talking about?"

Shin-chan just tightened his lips more. "I'm going to go to the neighborhood where Kagami was attacked."

Takao gaped at him. It felt like the breath had been punched out of him. After a moment to process, though, his hands flew out of his pockets, his arms flailing at his sides. "What? Why? What could you possibly hope to accomplish there?"

Shin-chan's jaw clenched. "I don't know. I'm aware that it's a fool's errand. I'm aware that it's the police's job to look into what happened and prevent it from happening again, not mine. But I can't stay here. I have to go."

Takao stood still for a moment longer, breathing in gulping gasps. He'd always known that Shin-chan was a kind of a hard-headed idiot, but this really was too much. "You...you're really set on this, aren't you?"

Shin-chan nodded, sharp and hard. Then he turned and kept walking. "You don't have to come with me. You probably shouldn't."

Takao stared after him for a moment, still standing stunned as only his head moved to track Shin-chan's progress. Then he broke free of his paralysis and clambered to catch up again, once again walking at Shin-chan's side. "Okay, did something else happen? Besides the whole...stabbing...thing? You seem weirdly stuck on doing this."

Shin-chan shook his head. "Nothing more than what I already told you..." He hesitated, head tilting to the side. He continued to stride purposefully down the street. "Well, I suppose there was one other thing. Kise texted not long ago to give us all an update. He's being staying at the hospital keeping an eye on things. And according to him...Kagami doesn't feel safe."

Takao blinked. "Doesn't feel safe? How would Kise know that?"

"Apparently he keeps waking up periodically and rambling for a while, though he's still quite confused and incoherent. And when he does...he seems afraid."

"Oh." They had reached the bus stop. They came to a halt. Shin-chan looked at his watch.

Takao shook his head. "So you want to make sure that he has no reason to be afraid. That he won't be attacked again. You want to protect him, even from far away." You ridiculous, ridiculous tsundere, he thought but didn't say.

Shin-chan was silent for a moment. "It sounds stupid when you put it like that."

Takao managed a smile, though it was small and tight and barely reached his eyes. "No. It's not stupid at all. And of course I'll come with you, Shin-chan. Why wouldn't I?"

Shin-chan glanced sideways at him. Then he nodded and looked ahead again. "Very well. Do as you please."

"I always do," Takao said cheerfully, bouncing up on his toes. An adventure with Shin-chan! It was shaping up to be an interesting night.

X

Taiga woke with a gasp, clutching at the sheets. Himuro had been slumping in his chair, his vigilance wearing thin after more than an hour of doing nothing but watching Taiga's chest move up and down. Now he jolted forward, all drowsiness banished. His hands wrapped around Taiga's clenched fingers without conscious thought. Taiga's eyes were wide and wild, flipping around the room, but at the touch he started and trained his eyes on Himuro. Then he went still and his breath halted in his chest. He seemed even paler than before.

"Aniki..." It was a bare breath, choked and hushed. His hand was cold and rigid under Himuro's, his fingers crabbed from clutching too hard with not enough strength.

Himuro nodded and tried for a smile. The room was getting fuzzy, and his throat felt tight. "I'm here. It's okay." Taiga continued to stare at him, his breath coming in short, painful-sounding gusts. Himuro made a guess as to why he had woken in such a panic and tried again. "It was only a dream."

"Aniki..." Then, to Himuro's shock and horror and complete, overwhelming pain, tears flooded Taiga's eyes and began to spill over. They tracked over his temples and began to wet the pillow beneath his head. His face screwed up in distress, and his chest jerked as he tried to contain a sob, but he couldn't quite do it. "Aniki...I thought..."

"Taiga..." Himuro pulled himself closer to the edge of the bed, jamming himself into the rail hard enough to hurt. He pried Taiga's cold hand free of the bedding and pressed it between his palms, desperate to warm him, to comfort him, to chase away that look of terror in his eyes. "Taiga, it's okay. It's okay. You're safe. Tetsu-chan is safe, too. I know you’ve been worried about him. But it’s all right. It was only a dream."

"I thought... I thought..."

Himuro bent closer, almost bowed in half as he tried to catch every small, half-choked word out of his little brother's mouth. "What is it? What did you think, Taiga?"

"I thought...there was a knife... He... He had a knife..."

Himuro pressed his hand even tighter. "Who had a knife, Taiga? The person who attacked you?"

Taiga squeezed his eyes shut, causing more tears to spill out, then opened them again with a cut-off sob. "No, him... That guy... He had a knife, and he was gonna do it. He was gonna kill Tetsu-chan, I was too late, I didn't get there in time, I didn't figure it out... I thought there was a knife..."

"Oh, Taiga..." Himuro could barely breathe. "No, Taiga... It didn't happen. It didn't. Tetsu-chan is fine. He's safe. Kuroko-san is in Russia, remember? Akashi gives us reports on his activities every month. He's seeing a doctor. He's actually... He's actually getting better. Tetsu-chan was planning to contact him after he turned eighteen. It was... It was a whole plan. A whole... Taiga, it was a dream. I swear to you, it was a dream. He's nowhere near Tokyo. Tetsu-chan is safe, I swear to you."

Taiga gasped for breath. Himuro could see in his eyes how he struggled to understand this, to believe it. He stared at Himuro without blinking, his chest shuddering as he tried to breathe.

"I was too late... I didn't get there in time..."

Himuro shook his head. "Never happened. You were there for Tetsu-chan, remember? You stood in front of him in the hall so his father couldn't hit him again. Tetsu-chan has told the story more than once. He loves bragging about you, about what a wonderful big brother he has. You got there in plenty of time. Because of you, Tetsu-chan is safe now. He's safe, and he's healthy, and he loves his nii-san very much."

"But I thought there was a knife," Taiga said again, his voice hushed and terrified, meant only for Himuro to hear. "I thought there was a knife, Aniki. The kid...the little boy was in danger. And Nigou was barking..."

"It was a dream. I swear it was a dream."

"It seemed...so real..."

"Kaga-chin."

Himuro looked up, startled. He'd been so focused on Taiga that he hadn't even heard Atsushi get to his feet and lumber around to the head of the bed. Now he was bent over, staring into Taiga's face. Himuro had rarely seen such a grim expression on Atsushi. Atsushi was concentrated, completely in the moment instead of letting half of his attention fly away as usual. His eyebrows were lowered and his mouth was set in a scowl as he studied Taiga intently.

Taiga dragged his gaze to Atsushi's face with difficulty, letting go of the lock he'd been keeping on Himuro. He gaped at Atsushi for a moment, unable to take him in. "M-Murasakibara? What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to take care of Tetsu-chin," Atsushi said. "Just like Muro-chin is here to take care of Kaga-chin. So I want you to know. Tetsu-chin is safe. I am taking care of him. That means he is safe."

"O-oh..." Taiga continued to stare at him, unblinking. Still, Himuro thought that perhaps his breathing had eased. "You... You're sure about that?"

Atsushi nodded, slow and ponderous. "Yes. Tetsu-chin is safe. So is Kaga-chin." He lifted one enormous hand and placed it on top of Taiga's head. Then he patted him, three times, very gently. Atsushi had gotten a lot better at moderating his strength over the years, especially since Tetsu always complained when his Mura-nii was too heavy-handed.

Taiga breathed, slow and careful. Some of the tension that had held him like a man on a rack began to ease. His hand, still held tight between both of Himuro's, loosened, too. "Okay," he said. "Okay. If you're sure."

"I'm sure." Atsushi patted him again, running his long fingers through Taiga's hair. Or maybe it was more like petting, at this point. "Tetsu-chin and Kaga-chin are safe. I'm sure. I'm making sure."

"Okay. Okay." Taiga's gaze returned to Himuro's face, pleading. Begging for confirmation.

"It's true," Himuro murmured. "You're both safe. You can rest. We're watching over you."

Taiga's face crumpled, and he turned his head against the pillow and closed his eyes, breathing in shuddering gasps. Himuro continued to hold his hand, his heart aching, and Atsushi patted his head. "Aniki, I want my dad," Taiga whispered.

"He's coming," Himuro said. "He's only a few more hours away."

"It's just that I...I was so sure there was a knife."

Himuro clenched his teeth. He didn't want to say this. But it wouldn't do any good to withhold the truth. Taiga was confused enough without them making it worse. "Yes, there was a knife, Taiga. But it was never anywhere near Tetsu-chan. He's perfectly safe, and he always was. That part was a dream."

"Okay." Taiga blew out another long, shaking breath, and he relaxed. In moments his eyes were drooping. He was still utterly exhausted, and the broken sleep was not helping.

As Taiga relaxed, so did Himuro. He still held Taiga's hand pressed in his, but he dared to lean back in his seat. Atsushi remained standing at the head of the bed, still petting Taiga's hair. Himuro let his eyes stray over to Tetsu, and he found him awake, staring at him with those big blue eyes, though he hadn't moved a centimeter from the last time Himuro had looked at him. When he saw Himuro watching, Tetsu gave him a slow nod, thanking him.

Himuro sighed and looked back to Taiga again. Taiga was almost asleep, now, letting himself be lulled by Himuro’s protective grip, by Atsushi’s fingers in his hair. But he saw Himuro looking and stared back at him, dull and drowsy, his eyes half-lidded. "Tetsu-chan is safe?" he whispered one more time. He had to be sure.

Himuro nodded with as much certainty as he could muster. He needed to be reliable right now. He needed to be a mountain. "Tetsu-chan is safe. So are you."

"Okay." Finally, finally, Taiga's eyes drifted all the way shut. "That's good. But what about...the little boy?"

Himuro froze. "Little boy?" Taiga hadn't been talking about Tetsu-chan when he said that? Then who...

He shared a wide-eyed look with Atsushi. Then he leaned forward, closer to Taiga's face again. "Little boy, Taiga? What little boy?"

But Taiga was asleep. And Himuro certainly wasn't going to wake him up just to satisfy his curiosity. It would have to wait.

It was not a nice neighborhood. The deepening gloom did little to hide the ramshackle houses all pressed together like too many people crammed into a subway car, the unkempt yards and overflowing trash cans, the paint peeling off walls and gutters hanging loose. No one seemed to be out, no neighbors chatting over fences or sitting on their stoops enjoying the crisp autumn air. Besides the streetlights, few lights shone. The entire area had a feeling of disrepute and decay.

Takoa shivered and hunched his shoulders, looking around with increasing wariness. "I thought it was pretty weird that Kagami managed to get himself stabbed out on a public street. Just...stupid. This is Japan. Where could something like that even happen in Japan? Crime is low here. Usually, anyway. But now that I'm on this street, looking around at all the houses, somehow this does seem like the kind of place where someone could get stabbed. What is up with this neighborhood? It's so...dark."

Shin-chan grunted. He was moving slowly, too, looking all around, studying everything that caught his eye. "I haven't done much research on the area, but I believe this is one of the residential sections that sprung up on the outskirts of Tokyo during the last population boom. The houses seem a bit poorly constructed because...well...they probably were. Everyone was in a hurry to expand, so corners must have gotten cut here and there. And now that the population in Tokyo is starting to shrink again, neighborhoods like this are being abandoned. Those who could move closer to the city center probably already have. All that's left..."

Shin-chan trailed off. Takao understood, though. He wouldn't be much of a partner for Shin-chan if he couldn't follow his explanations, however rambling and incomplete. "So all that's left are the people who couldn't afford to move, is what you're saying. This neighborhood started out middle class, but it's not anymore."

"That is an accurate assessment."

A can had fallen out of a stinking garbage bin nearby. Takao kicked the can in front of him and watched it clatter down the street. "What was Kagami doing here?"

"He went for a run. Knowing him, he probably didn't pay much attention to where he was going. He's a good basketball player and an excellent big brother, but he's far from the most brilliant star in the sky."

Takao snorted. It was rare for Shin-chan to make a joke, and this was fairly good one. "Brightest star..." he snickered. "Not the sharpest sign in the Zodiac, you mean?"

Shin-chan didn't sound jocular, though. His voice was grim and dry as dust. "As you say."

Takao squinted his eyes into the twilight. He tried to imagine Kagami jogging down this street, Nigou on a leash running at his side. Kagami would have been grinning, enjoying the burn in his muscles, the high of a long, hard run. Nigou would have been panting in doggy joy, too, keeping up with Kagami with easy strength. If they ever got lost or tired too far from home, Kagami could afford to take a taxi, though his dad would probably scold him when he got home, and Tetsu would frown and ask where he'd been.

Takao wondered if Kagami did that often, if he would pick a direction and keep running, just to see how far he could go. It seemed like something he would do. When his family scolded him, he probably blushed and rubbed the back of his head, then promised that he would be more careful in the future. But then he would forget and do it again, because running full-out was just too much fun.

"What an idiot," Takao murmured. But a good idiot, that was sure. A kind idiot, strong and big-hearted and good at taking care of his little brother and his team.

Takao didn't need a hawk eye to see how much happier and healthier Tetsu had grown over the past couple of years. It still hurt to remember that Sunday, so long ago it seemed now, when they had gone to Tetsu's apartment to fetch his things. What they had found in his room... And then seeing him at Kagami's place afterward, how thin and worn he'd been. Pale. Almost ghost-like, as if he was actively trying to vanish from the world.

Two weeks later, Takao had seen him again at the park for pick-up games with Seirin and Shin-chan and the rest of the Generation of Miracles. Already Tetsu had been greatly changed, color in his face again, a smile rising often to his lips. Every time Takao had seen him after that, at practice matches and tournaments and random meet-ups like that one, Tetsu had looked better and better.

Now, he must be in so much pain. Not in his own person, but because his nii-san was hurt. The last vestige of a smile died from Takao's lips. Shin-chan was right. This was...unconscionable.

Takao almost bumped into Shin-chan, and he reeled back in the street, torn out of his useless musings. Shin-chan had halted just on the edge of a pool of yellow light from a streetlamp. He was staring down at the pavement, frowning. Moving cautiously, Takao crept up to his elbow and stared too, trying to see what he was looking at.

"Is that...?"

The stain on the pavement was dark and smudged. Someone had tried to clean it up. The light wasn't good, and it was impossible to make out exactly what it was, exactly where it began and ended. It was so indistinct. It could have been chocolate sauce.

Takao knew it wasn't, though.

Shin-chan looked around at the surrounding houses and street signs. "Yes. This is the place."

"Okay, then." Suddenly, Takao didn't want to look at the stain anymore. He swallowed, pushing down a surge of nausea, and joined Shin-chan in looking around at the houses. "What...what do you hope to find here?"

"I don't know." Shin-chan stepped forward into a narrow alleyway between two houses, away from the light of the streetlamp and that dark, ugly stain. "I never knew what I was looking for. I just came anyway."

Right. And Takao had come with him. "Okay. Let's...keep looking, then."

They spread out. Shin-chan continued down the alleyway he had chosen while Takao stayed on the sidewalk, sticking close to the garden fences of the houses on that side of the street. Goosebumps had shivered to life across Takao's arms and upper back. He felt hyper-aware of every tiny noise, Shin-chan's shoes softly treading on the pavement, insects rustling in the grass, the sound of a TV leeching through a wall somewhere. His eyes strained against the dark, and he did his best to ignore the scent of rot that laced the cold air.

He didn't know what he was looking for, not exactly. But dammit, if he saw a knife, he was running. No questions asked. He and Shin-chan could call the police. This wasn't their job.

A small, unexpected noise caught Takao's attention, and he froze, his heart bumping in his chest. That was... What was it? He didn't dare to breathe for fear that he'd miss it. The noise came again, small and soft and shaking. It sounded like a child, sniffling.

What was a kid doing out here in the dark? It was way too cold out here. Kids should be inside where it was warm, having dinner or watching TV or doing their homework. The little sniffle came again, and it sounded so small and young and miserable that Takao's heart throbbed in sympathy.

"Oi, Shin-chan." He turned his head to stage-whisper down the street, and the sound of Shin-chan's feet in the alleyway halted, then turned back toward him. Takao paid no more attention, instead creeping closer to those sad sniffles.

It was definitely a kid. A little boy, Takao would guess. A little boy who was shivering and cold, who was trying not to cry, trying to stifle his sobs so that they came out in tiny, cut-off whimpers and sniffs. Takao bent down next to the fence and pressed his ear to the wood. Yeah, this was definitely the place. The little boy was just on the other side.

"Hey," Takao murmured, just loud enough for the boy to hear him. "Hey, kiddo. Are you okay?"

The sniffles stopped with a gasp. Takao could all but feel the kid trembling, hands jammed over his mouth as he tried not to be heard. Takao's chest started to feel heavy. He was getting a really, really bad feeling about this.

"Hey, it's okay," he said. "I'm just a high school basketball player. I'm not gonna do anything. Do you know what basketball is? You ever see it on TV or anything?"

For a moment longer, there was silence on the other side of the fence. Takao couldn't even hear the kid breathing, and he was trying to. He was listening just as hard as he could. He felt Shin-chan move up behind him, feet almost silent on the pavement as he moved cautiously and quietly, following Takao's lead. Shin-chan said nothing, either.

Then the voice came, just as small and young as Takao had expected. "Yes? I think...there's a hoop?" The boy was speaking very softly and fearfully, but there was a note of curiosity there, too.

Takao allowed a small grin. He pressed himself harder into the fence, as if he could reach the kid through it if he just tried. "Yeah, that's right. We throw these big orange balls through a hoop. It's a really fun game. It's my favorite thing to do."

"Then...you're not the police? My mama says I'm not supposed to talk to the police."

Takao's breath caught. He felt Shin-chan freeze behind him, shocked and dismayed. "No," he said, making his voice as warm and reassuring as possible. "I'm not with the police. I'm just a high schooler. I'm wearing my basketball jacket right now. If you come out of the garden, I can show you. Would that be proof enough?"

"I...maybe." The boy's voice shrank away, though, and Takao cursed his impatience. No, slower, he had to go slower.

"That's okay," he said. "You don't have to come out if you don't want to. It was just an idea. But I'm not the police, okay? You won't get in trouble for talking to me."

"O...okay."

"My name is Kazunari. Takao Kazunari. Would you like to call me Kazu?"

"K-Kazu-nii?"

Takao swallowed painfully, but he forced himself to put a smile in his voice. "Yeah, sure. Kazu-nii. That's great, I love it. What's your name?"

"Joji." It was almost inaudible.

"Nice to meet you, Joji-chan. My friend Shin-chan is here, too, okay? He's a basketball player just like me."

"Nice to meet you, Shin-kun," Joji echoed dutifully.

"Hello, Joji-chan," Shin-chan said.

"You're not the police?"

"No."

The word was so strangled that Takao cast a concerned look up at him. Shin-chan's jaw was clenched, and he looked almost translucent in the dim light. Takao turned his attention back to the boy on the other side of the fence.

"Hey, Joji-chan. Can I ask you a question?"

Another hesitation. "Y-yeah."

"Why are you out in the garden so late? You must be cold."

"Mama locked me out of the house for being naughty."

For a moment, Takao couldn't speak. Neither could Shin-chan. It was freezing.

"W-wow," Takao managed after a moment. "That's really rough, Joji-chan. Will she let you back in soon?"

"I hope so." But there wasn't much hope in that little voice. No wonder he'd been sniffling. No wonder he'd been crying and trying not to. How many times had this happened?

How many... What other things...?

"Hey, Joji-chan, you know what?"

"What?"

"I said I was wearing a basketball jacket, but I've also got a really nice sweater on underneath that, so I don't really need the jacket right now. In fact, I'm getting kind of hot." This was an utter lie. Takao had been fighting shivers for quite some time now. "If you could open the garden gate, I'd really like to lend you my jacket. Just until your mama lets you back into the house, okay? You'd be doing me a favor. Would you please do that for me?"

Silence. Takao very quietly started to panic.

"You don't have to, of course. But, you know...I'm really uncomfortable in this jacket. In fact, I'm just gonna...I'm just gonna take it off now." Takao's fingers hovered over the zipper of his jacket for a moment. Then he slowly, resolutely began to unzip it. He did everything he could to make it as noisy as possible. Then he removed one sleeve, then the other, rustling the fabric ostentatiously and making little noises every step of the way. "Oh, yeah, that's...that's better... My sweater is way too thick, Joji-chan, you should see it..."

Shin-chan had straightened beside him, staring without blinking at the garden gate, still shut and latched a meter away. Once the jacket was in his arms, Takao joined him in staring at the gate. "Yeah, this...this is better. But now my jacket's just going to waste, Joji-chan, so if you would be willing to do me a favor and take it off my hands, wow, I would really appreciate that..."

The latch creaked. The gate shook as a hand tugged on it from the other side. Takao grit his teeth, watching it without blinking. He pushed to his feet and stumbled over to the gate, his feet feeling somehow numb.

The gate opened. Blue light leaked from the ground floor of the house, a television inside providing the only luminescence. The boy standing on the other side of the gate, lit in that ghostly glare, was small and thin and shivering, still clutching the latch with one hand, staring up at Takao and Shin-chan with pleading writ large in his face. Takao wasn't good at guessing kids' ages, but Joji couldn't have been more than ten years old. Probably closer to eight or nine.

Joji only looked at them for a second before his gaze was drawn inexorably to the bundle in Takao's hands. "Do you..." His voice was tiny, almost inaudible. "Do you mean it? You really don't need your jacket?"

Takao nodded as enthusiastically as he dared. "Yeah. Yeah, I mean it." He knelt on one knee to be on the kid's level and wrapped it around those small, shivering shoulders in a single motion. "There you go. You definitely, definitely need this more than I do."

He zipped up the jacket without waiting for Joji to put his arms through the sleeves. On seeing this child, he felt only a desperate need to warm him up. Maybe feed him, too. Get him away from here, if he could. As soon as possible. When the jacket was zipped, he put his hands on Joji's shoulders and held him as gently and firmly as he could. "There. That's better, right?"

Joji nodded, small and hesitant. He started to smile, then stopped, as if he wasn't sure it was allowed.

The boy started when Shin-chan got down on one knee, too. Just a little too close. But Joji held his ground and looked back at him, as bravely he could, though Takao felt his shoulders shiver.

"Joji-chan," Shin-chan said, and Takao had never heard his voice this gentle. "There's something else you could help us with, if you're willing."

Joji watched him warily. "What...what is it?"

"We're getting hungry. We would like to go get a snack. There's a Maji Burger just a few blocks away, and we were thinking about going there. But you see, we have a problem. We always order too much food."

Takao nodded enthusiastically. "That's true. We always do. Way, way too much food. It's a big problem."

"So I was thinking that, maybe, if you wouldn't mind, you could help us out. Help us eat some of the food. We would really appreciate it. Could you do that for us?"

Joji looked down. "I'm not supposed to go anywhere with strangers. My mama would be mad."

Takao swallowed. He felt even more nauseated now. "No, you're right. Of course. You need to be safe. But maybe Shin-chan could go and get some food and bring it back, and you could help us eat it here."

Joji looked up at him, testing to see if he meant it, then looked down again and nodded. Takao looked at Shin-chan, who nodded briskly and got to his feet. "I'll be back soon. You two can wait here."

He strode off down the street. Takao looked back at Joji. The child was staring down at the jacket again. He had pushed his arms through the sleeves and was now running the fingers of one hand over the Shutoku label on the left breast.

"Do you like the jacket, Joji-chan?"

Joji nodded. "It's really warm."

Takao smiled. "Yeah. You see how I got uncomfortable."

"And the guy last night...he was wearing a basketball jacket, too."

Takao went very, very still. "The guy...last night?"

Joji nodded sadly. He couldn't seem to meet Takao's eyes. "Mama was mad... She was so mad, Kazu-nii. And the guy... He..."

He looked up, eyes suddenly wide. "I'm not supposed to talk about it..."

Takao could barely breathe. "You don't have to, Joji-chan." But oh, he wanted him to. He wanted to insist. He wanted the kid to spill everything. "But you can if you want to, you know. You can talk to Kazu-nii about anything. I'm not the police, remember? And the guy last night, in the basketball jacket... I bet he was kind, wasn't he? So you know that basketball players are good guys."

Joji nodded. "He was kind. His dog was cool, too."

What had this boy seen? What had...

What had his mother done?

Takao's bad feeling had gotten much, much worse. He wasn't with the police. But it was becoming more and more obvious that the police were needed, here. If he and Shin-chan could just persuade Joji to trust them, to tell them what he'd witnessed...

And after that, they needed to get this child away from here. Permanently.

Akashi had not expected the knock on his door, but maybe he should have. When he'd turned eighteen, he had started renting his own apartment in Tokyo for his increasingly frequent visits, rather than going home or intruding on the Kagami family. If his father found out, Akashi would tell him that he needed the space to be more independent and self-sufficient, but so far his secret seemed to be safe. Only a few people knew about the existence of this place, and those who did he trusted absolutely.

So perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised when the knock came late in the evening of the day after Kagami Taiga was stabbed. Akashi had been attempting to relax without much success, looking at his phone far more often than was necessary, even though he wasn't expecting a call or text from anyone. At the dull, heavy thump of a fist on wood, Akashi jolted from his chair and stared at the door. If his father knew that he was keeping this place without any retainers, never even posting a guard...

The Akashi family had many enemies. Perhaps this was a foolish secret to keep. Perhaps his father would be right to be angry. Especially in a time when Akashi's comrades were being stabbed in the street.

No. Akashi had done a lot of work to mitigate his paranoia over the past two years. He couldn't backslide now.

He didn't even check out the peephole first, which was a victory in itself. He just opened the door. And then he stood there and blinked for a moment. "Hello, Midorima."

Midorima gave him a nod in a greeting. "May we come in?"

"Of course." Akashi stepped back, holding the door wide.

Midorima stepped into the apartment, followed by that friend of his, Takao. Takao was carrying a child in his arms, holding the small body up with his arms under the child's legs as the little one pressed against his front. The child's arms were wrapped around Takao's neck, face buried under his neck. He or she was also wearing Takao's jacket.

Akashi's apartment was small, but it was well-furnished, and the open floor plan made it feel spacious enough. He gestured to the living area, where he had some overstuffed furniture. "Please, sit down." He closed the door behind him and stood there, watching them.

Midorima chose a recliner, but Takao plopped down in the middle of the comfortable loveseat, a sigh rolling off his lips. His arms still held the child securely, but he leaned his head back and closed his eyes for a moment. The child didn't stir. Perhaps...he? Yes, he, Akashi decided, eyeing the short, messy hair and the worn sneakers Midorima had gently removed, then set down in the entryway...was asleep.

"We apologize for the intrusion," Midorima said, somewhat belatedly.

Akashi watched him quietly for a moment. Now that his initial shock had faded, he could see that Midorima was agitated, on edge. His fingers gripped the arms of the recliner, pressing indentations into the faux leather, and his lips were tight, his eyes sparking with suppressed emotion. Takao was tense, too. Even the child, sleeping or not, seemed to be in distress.

Akashi looked back to Midorima. "Would you like some tea?"

Midorima nodded. "Thank you for your hospitality."

Takao let go of the child with one hand so he could wave it at Akashi. "Hot chocolate for me." He bent his head to speak to the little one pressed into his neck. "How about for you, Joji-chan? Does hot chocolate sound good?"

The child held still for a moment longer, then nodded, slow and solemn, messy hair tickling the underside of Takao's chin. Takao smiled at Akashi. "Thanks. We're kinda chilly."

"I see."

Akashi moved to the kitchen area and set the kettle on to boil. He took the matcha powder down from the cupboard, then dug in the back for a few packets of hot chocolate mix. He'd forgotten he even had them. Momoi might have given them to him as a housewarming gift in a basket of other foodstuffs he'd ignored. He was grateful now. Whatever was happening here, he didn't like seeing his guests shiver, as Takao currently was.

Speaking of... Akashi moved to his bedroom and fetched a blanket, then brought it to the living area and wrapped it around both Takao and the boy. Takao offered a smile, but Midorima looked even more grateful. "Takao wouldn't let me give him my coat," he muttered, for Akashi's ears only, though Takao gave him a cheeky grin.

"Couldn't be a liar," Takao said, which made no sense at all. Akashi chose not to pursue it at this time. He tucked the blanket around Takao's shoulders and returned to the kitchen just as the kettle reached the optimum temperature for matcha.

Akashi waited until they were all seated comfortably, warm cups in hand, before he asked any questions. Even the boy, Joji, had been persuaded to turn sideways in Takao's lap and take a mug of hot chocolate, the blanket pushed down under his arms so he could hold it. Akashi had been careful to make sure the drink was not too hot, so the child could drink it immediately. Still, Joji hesitated, staring at the dark liquid with wide, wary eyes.

His cheeks were streaked with teartracks.

Takao lifted his own mug with the hand not currently wrapped around Joji's back and took a long slurp, smacking his lips as loudly as possible when he was done. "Mm, that's good! You should try it, Joji-chan. It's really tasty."

Joji stared at his cup for a moment longer, then looked over at Akashi. The depth of distrust in those young eyes almost took Akashi's breath away. The boy looked up at Takao, wordlessly questioning.

Takao nodded cheerfully. "Oh, didn't I mention? Seijurou-kun is a basketball player, just like me and Shin-chan. He's our friend. That means he's your friend, too."

Joji looked at Akashi again. Akashi gave him a nod, slow and serious. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Joji-chan. Any friend of Takao and Midorima is a friend of mine. You are welcome here for as long as you would like to stay."

Joji took a sip of his hot chocolate. Then another. He clutched the mug to his chest with both hands. Then he curled up into Takao and started to cry. Not for the first time, it appeared.

Midorima's fingers tightened on the recliner, his eyes widening in alarm. Akashi tried to look away, but could not. Takao, though, just sighed and set his hot chocolate on the table beside the loveseat. Then he lifted the blanket that had drooped around Joji's waist, raising it over the kid's head and patting it into place to give him a kind of little cave where he could hide. And he wrapped his arms loosely around the boy and was still.

Joji cried. It was a very quiet affair, mostly sniffles rather than sobs. After a while, Akashi heard him stop for a moment. There was a slurp of hot chocolate. Then he resumed crying. Takao rubbed his back through the blanket.

It was all very strange.

Akashi looked to Midorima for an explanation. The two of them were sitting slightly removed from the loveseat, so perhaps they could risk a conversation. "I take it that this boy isn't a relative of you or Takao."

Midorima shook his head. "We...found him."

"Found him." Akashi blinked. "On the street?"

Midorima managed a grim smile. "Near enough. The street where Kagami was stabbed, as a matter of fact. Takao is convinced that Joji-chan knows what happened, though he hasn't been able to tell us yet. And also we...we couldn't leave him there."

Akashi looked back to the little bundle of crying blankets wrapped up in Takao's lap. He began to get an inkling of what was going on here. It made him sick to his soul. "His...father...?"

"Mother."

Just as bad. Maybe worse.

"What did she do?"

"Locked him out." Midorima looked at Takao and the child too. "How long, we don't know. Hours, maybe. He was chilled to the bone. He was so...frightened. Of us. Of her. Of what she would do. He wouldn't even come with us to Maji Burger so we could give him a meal."

Akashi's hand began to creep toward his cell phone. He could order something. Pizza. Ramen. Whatever Joji wanted.

Midorima quirked a smile. It seemed more genuine this time. "We fed him. It was just...a little difficult."

Akashi relaxed. They must have done quite a lot of work with Joji already for him to be so comfortable now, at least with Takao. When Akashi had given Midorima that address, he had thought of it as a gamble, no idea how it would fall out, if anything would ever result from it. He should have realized that it was a sure thing.

"Why did he come with you in the end?"

Midorima's face went grim again. "It was late. He wanted to give Takao's jacket back to him, but Takao insisted he keep it until his mother let him back into the house. So he went and knocked on the door. She ignored him for a long time, but he kept trying. And then..."

Akashi held his breath as if in preparation for a blow.

Midorima clenched his jaw. Each word seemed hard-fought, forced through gritted teeth. "She opened the door. Barely even looked at him. Just knocked him back into the garden and yelled at him to stop bothering her. Told him to stay out there and rot. Then she slammed the door. We heard it lock again."

Akashi forced his fist open before his fingernails could draw blood from his palm. "I see."

Midorima glanced at him, then looked back to Takao. "I suppose it doesn't sound so bad when laid out in plain words like that."

Akashi shook his head. "No. It sounds terrible. It sounds horrific."

Midorima was silent for a moment, then grunted in acknowledgement. His fingers loosened on the recliner's arms, just a little.

"Is he hurt?" Akashi asked. "Do we need a doctor?" He would sacrifice this secret if he needed to call the family physician for a house call. It would be worth it.

Midorima shook his head. "He wouldn't let us look. But he seemed to be walking fine. Until Takao got exasperated and just picked him up."

"We'll keep an eye on him."

Midorima looked Akashi in the eye. "He's afraid of the police. She drilled that into him. He won't talk to them."

Akashi nodded slowly. "Like Tetsu-kun?"

"Even worse. He was sixteen. It was possible to reason with him. Joji-chan is half that age. Police are the monster in the closet. His fear is unreasoning and impossible to deny."

"What do you suggest?"

Midorima was silent for a moment. "Plainclothes officers. You have contacts in the police department. I'm sure you can arrange it."

Akashi nodded.

"They would have to be discreet. They would need to earn his trust first. Then he'll talk. Perhaps."

"I want to be there."

They looked up. Takao's voice was sharp, allowing no argument. He blinked at them, his arms still wrapped around the little boy in his lap. His shoulders were hunched, and his expression was fierce.

He'd already adopted this boy. It didn't matter what anyone would say to him. In Takao's mind, this was already a done deal.

Akashi expected Midorima to snort. To call Takao foolish. To tell him he was being unreasonable. Instead, Midorima's eyes softened.

"I doubt he would talk if you weren't present. I doubt we would make any progress with him at all."

Takao looked at Akashi. "And I don't want him to go to an orphanage."

Akashi nodded. "We will...work it out."

Midorima smiled, soft and slow. It was strange to see. "Any other demands?"

Takao looked down at the bundle of blankets. Joji made another slurping sound. The crying seemed to have stopped for the moment, reduced to only an occasional sniff. Takao shook his head, then let it lean back on the cushions behind him. He looked, suddenly, utterly and completely exhausted. And also terribly, unforgivably young.

"Stay here tonight," Akashi said. "Give him time to learn what it is to be safe. We'll deal with the rest tomorrow."

It was as good a plan as any. Midorima and Takao agreed without a murmur.

Tetsu met him in the hall.

Hiroshi had called him when the plane landed, then texted him when he arrived at the hospital. Tetsu had sounded calm over the phone, saying that Taiga was finally getting more than an hour's worth of sleep and both Tatsuya and Mura were there to watch over them, so they were fine. He replied to the text with a simple acknowledgement. Hiroshi figured that they would talk once he got to Taiga's room.

But Hiroshi was still half the length of the hall away when he noticed Tetsu's head poking out of a door, looking around. When Tetsu spotted him, he went still for a moment, standing there almost frozen, his face perfectly expressionless. Hiroshi quickened his pace, raising a hand to wave in greeting. It was late, the halls all but deserted, the lights dim. He didn't want to bother anyone by calling out, even though a yell was burning in his throat.

Suddenly, Tetsu's calm crumbled away. His face wrenched up in distress, and he practically fell out of the doorway before catching his feet and scrambling up into a run, straight for Hiroshi. Hiroshi's heart bunched up in his throat, almost choking him, and then he was running too. Just a few paces, that was all he needed, and then Tetsu was there, wrapping his arms around Hiroshi's chest and squeezing so tight that Hiroshi's breath punched out of him in a gust of air.

He held him back just as tightly, of course. Tetsu had added a few centimeters over the years, but his nose was still barely on level with Hiroshi's shoulder. He had to tip his chin up and stand on his toes so he could press the side of his head against Hiroshi's. Hiroshi pressed him in return, squeezing as fiercely as he dared.

Some of the crawling terror that had held his insides cramped up in a ball for the last twenty-three hours and forty-seven minutes finally began to release from his body. About half of it, anyway. This son was safe. This son was warm and breathing and in his arms. Hiroshi would need to see his other son, too, before he was finally able to relax, but this was a good start.

"Hey there, Daddy-o," Tetsu murmured breathlessly, still pressed as close to Hiroshi as he could get.

"Hey there, Blue Angel," Hiroshi whispered back. He turned his face to kiss him soundly on the side of the head. He didn't mind that two men were standing in the hall watching them. This was his precious, precious younger son, and he didn't care who knew it. "I'm glad to see you. Really, really glad."

"Me too, Dad."

"I'm sorry it took me so long to get here."

It still enraged him to remember all the obstacles that had been thrown up in the way of him reaching his children. First there had been the people he had gone to meet with, including a higher-up in his corporation, who insisted that he stay and finish the meeting he was in even after he informed them that his oldest son had just been stabbed. Then there had been the difficulty in booking a last-minute flight. Then the usual ridiculous security theater that America persisted in inflicting on all travelers to her shores. And then, of course, the flight itself. He had tried to sleep. He had not succeeded.

Tetsu made a sound of dismissal. "It doesn't matter. I'm just glad you're here. The doctors and nurses have been very kind and capable. Lots of people came to take care of us. Akashi-kun and Kise-kun, and Akashi-kun's guards, and then Aniki and Mura-nii. I am grateful for all of them. But none of them were you. I missed you so much."

Hiroshi's eyes welled up. He sniffed, hard, forcing it back. "I'm here now, Tetsu-chan. I'm here."

After a few more moments of just standing there, holding tight, Tetsu gave him one last squeeze, then began to loosen his arms. Hiroshi let him go slowly, reluctantly, allowing Tetsu to step back so they could look each other in the face. Hiroshi's hands slid up to hold Tetsu's shoulders, though, not yet ready to release him completely. He still felt a strong and urgent need to touch, to be sure.

Tetsu looked tired and worn, and his eyes seemed a little bloodshot. Hiroshi studied his face hungrily, taking it in. Tetsu smiled, slow and sweet. It looked genuine. "We should go see Taiga-nii now. He's asleep, but I promised that I would wake him when you arrived. He's been asking for you often."

Hiroshi's heart jumped in his chest. "Yes. Let's go."

Outside the door, he paused and bowed to the two non-descript men who stood there, waiting, as calm and implacable as statues carved of marble. "You must be the guards Sei-chan sent to us," he said warmly. "Thank you for taking care of my sons."

They bowed back, unflinchingly polite, their expressions unchanging. Hiroshi did his best not to feel disquieted. Anyone Sei sent to them was certain to be of only the highest quality. Obviously, they were taking their job very, very seriously. And once he passed through the door, all other concerns fled.

Tatsuya was there, and Mura, too, both slumped in chairs asleep or barely waking at his entrance. But Taiga... Taiga was in the bed, pale and still, so still... Was he even breathing? He had to be asleep, that was all, it had to be...

Hiroshi was there in two frantic strides, bending over to frame his son's head with his hands. "Taiga." His voice was choked, barely audible. He tried again, a little louder, and tears blurred his vision once more. "Hey there, Tiger Cub. Hey there, Taiga. It's me. It's your dad."

For a moment, nothing happened. Taiga was still, his head limp in his father's hands, dark red hair trailing on the crisp hospital pillow. Hiroshi's heart rose so far in his throat that it cut off his breath, and he struggled for air. "Taiga," he said again, more urgently. He felt Tetsu at his side pressing close, peering down at his big brother with that thin facade of calm ready to crack at any moment.

Then Taiga's eyes opened, his breath halting in his throat. He stared up at Hiroshi without comprehension for a moment, his face blank and still. Hiroshi tried to smile and found it very difficult. Taiga blinked.

Then, all at once, he went completely limp, his cheek leaning hard into Hiroshi's hand. "Dad." His voice was so small. So young. So hurt and exhausted, and so, so relieved. "Dad. You're here."

Hiroshi nodded, short and jerky. "I'm here." He was annoyed by the tears blurring his vision. He wanted to look at his son. But he couldn't let go to wipe his eyes, couldn't even turn his head to rub his face on his shoulder. All he could do was stand here, bent over his wounded boy, and hold his face between his hands. "I'm here. I'm sorry it took so long."

"Dad." Taiga's breath was coming moist and jerky, too, as if he was crying along with Hiroshi. Hiroshi still couldn't still his features clearly. "Dad." He started to struggle to sit up, but cut off with a huff of agony, and Tetsu's hands flew to his shoulders to hold him down.

"No, Taiga-nii, don't sit up. You'll hurt yourself."

"No, no, I want... I want to..."

"Taiga-nii, please..."

"Then help me..."

Tetsu's hands shifted their hold on Taiga's shoulder, and suddenly Tatsuya was there on the other side, and Mura was at the head of the bed, and somehow they got Taiga up into a sitting position without letting him do any of the work at all. In a moment he was upright, and his arms were around Hiroshi's shoulders gripping tight, and Hiroshi was sitting on the edge of the bed holding his older son just as close as he'd held his younger. And maybe they were both crying, but no one in the room cared. Not even a little bit.

The terror bled away, bit by bit. Even like this, he could tell that something was wrong. Taiga's grip wasn't as tight as usual, though the trembling in his arms betrayed just how much effort he was putting into it. His face pressed into the side of Hiroshi's neck was too warm, but his body seemed too cool. Blood loss, Hiroshi reminded himself. He'll need time to heal and regain his strength.

But Taiga was here. His breath was a little too fast, but he was breathing. He was safe and whole and Hiroshi was with him again. Everything would be okay, because they wouldn't let it be anything else. Eventually Taiga reached out one hand to snag Tetsu and drag him in, too, and all three of them just held on to each other and did their best to breathe.

"Dad," Taiga whispered eventually, low and ashamed, as if sharing a guilty secret, "I was really scared."

"That's okay, Taiga. You're allowed to be scared now and then."

"There was...there was a little boy, and I had to save him, I had to, I had to protect him... I think I did, but I can't remember, I can't... All I can remember is how scared I was. And...and the knife, the way it was shining, and Nigou was barking, and I was so scared, Dad. I was so scared."

Hiroshi felt a chill to his soul. What...what had happened? What had happened to his son?

He raised a hand to run his fingers through Taiga's hair, the boy's head now heavy on his shoulder as what little strength he had seemed to run away from him. "That's okay, Taiga. It's okay to be scared. I know you were brave anyway, because that's just who you are, and no one could ever doubt that. We all know how brave you are, me and Tetsu-chan, and Mura-chan and Tatsuya, we all know it. I'm sure that this...this little boy you were trying to protect... I'm sure he's fine. I'm sure you saved him. No other outcome is possible, not for my brave, strong Tiger Cub. I'm sure of it."

Taiga drew a long, trembling breath. Of relief. Of hope. Of trust in his father's words. "Are...are you sure about that?"

"As sure as I've ever been of anything in my life. I promise. I promise you, my sweet Taiga-chan, my precious son. That little boy is safe. We're going to go back to where this happened, and find him, and bring him to visit you, just so you can see for yourself. But I don't need to do that to know what happened. I already know that you succeeded. It's okay that you can't remember. You were hurt very badly. The doctors say you hit your head. That, and the blood loss, and the exposure... It all has a way of messing with your memories. In time, they'll probably come back, and you'll know for yourself. But until then, you can trust me. I'm sure everything is all right. I'm sure you did exactly what you set out to do."

And he was. If it had been necessary, Hiroshi would have lied to Taiga to make him feel better, especially when he was this weak and confused and terrified. But he was not lying now. He was certain of this. Absolutely. One hundred percent.

They needed to find this little boy. They needed to make sure that he was safe, and no maniac with a knife would ever threaten him again. But Hiroshi already knew that Taiga had protected the child when he needed to. It was just who Taiga was.

"I'm sure too," Tetsu murmured. "Taiga-nii would never fail to protect a small one in danger. It is not possible."

Taiga's fist tightened in the back of Tetsu's shirt, pulling hard, the tendons on his forearm standing out. It was like he was trying to drag Tetsu right into the middle of the tight hold he and Hiroshi still had on each other, as if he could force him to be safe forever if he just tried hard enough. The desperation in that small movement made Hiroshi's heart clench in his chest. If it was possible, he held his boys even tighter, one arm around Taiga and the other around Tetsu.

"It's okay," Hiroshi said again, and he didn't care how many times he had to say it. He would sit and say this over and over, if that was what it took. "It's okay, Taiga. Everything's okay. Everything is going to be okay."

They sat there, all jammed together as close as they could get, for a long time. Until Taiga went limp on his dad and brother, asleep again, and they carefully lowered him back to the bed to rest. Even in sleep, though, his fists remained tight in Hiroshi's and Tetsu's shirts, so they had to pry him free. Then Hiroshi took Tatsuya's seat beside the bed and held his son's hand while he slept, and he was intensely grateful for the privilege.

From: Tetsu-kun
>>Akashi-kun, some of Taiga-nii's memories have come back.
>>He has remembered that there was a little boy involved in the incident.
>>He's very worried that something bad happened to him.
>>We've all been working hard to calm him, and he's asleep now.
>>But I was hoping you might be able to help in the matter of the little boy.
>>Could you look into it?
>>If we could reassure Taiga-nii that he is safe and well,
>>I'm sure he would rest much better.

Akashi frowned, annoyed with himself that he hadn't checked the messages sooner. He could have responded right away and let Tetsu know that the child was okay, but it was so late now that it would probably be better not to disturb him. Hopefully Hiroshi-san had arrived and everyone was resting peacefully.

Granted, he had been rather occupied for several hours now. Once Joji had recovered from his crying fit enough to finish his hot chocolate, Takao had declared Akashi's apartment to now be a "Sleepover Fun Zone" where only happy things were allowed. There had been several rather childish games, then a lot of delivery food when they were quiet enough for a moment to hear Joji's stomach growl, and then, of course, they had to entertain themselves.

Akashi had been willing to procure any movie or show Joji wanted to watch, anything at all. Joji was sitting cross-legged between Takao and Midorima on the sofa at that point, looking up at Akashi with big, starry eyes as Akashi stood poised with tablet in hand, ready to search his streaming services or download whatever Joji asked for and then cast it up on his TV screen. And Joji asked, rather shyly but with great conviction, for Seijurou-kun to show him why they all loved basketball so much.

Fortunately, Akashi had plenty of basketball footage on his tablet. Most of it was from games he and his ex-teammates had played, but that was all for the good. Joji loved watching his new friends play. He was especially enamored with Takao and Midorima's special mid-shoot pass. He asked to see that one again and again, and Takao, controlling the tablet by then, obliged with a gleeful grin.

Now, Akashi looked up at the screen, which he had been ignoring for a while. The current footage was from a game between Yosen and Kaijou at the last Winter Cup. He wondered what Joji thought of Murasakibara. When he looked over at the sofa, though, it was almost empty, just Takao still sitting there with the tablet in his lap, staring at the screen with a glazed expression. Well, it had been a long, exhausting day for him, too.

"Takao," Akashi said urgently, and Takao jerked and looked up at him, the tablet falling from his lap to thud heavily to the floor. Akashi winced, but didn't remark on it. "Where's Joji-chan?"

Takao looked around, blinking and rubbing his eye with a fist. "Ah, I thought he went to the toilet..."

He clambered up, nudging an empty pizza box out of the way with his foot, and moved around the sofa to the middle of the room. Akashi got to his feet, too, frowning harder now. It wasn't like it was a big apartment. And where had Midorima gone?

"Shh." The sound was short, but very forceful.

Oh, that was Midorima. Akashi came to a halt, blinking more than Takao had. Midorima was sitting in the plush window seat Akashi had had built specifically for studying, his back against the cushioned wall. He was covered with a blanket that was rather too full. His face was serene, even as he glared at them to be quiet with his eyebrows lowered, glasses reflecting the city lights outside.

Takao didn't stop. His shoulders slumped in relief, but he picked his way right over to Midorima and stared down at him. "There he is." His voice was low, too. He turned and beckoned Akashi to join them. "Joji-chan's fine. He's right here."

Akashi came to look. Joji was asleep, curled up in Midorima's lap with his head leaning on his chest, a blanket covering him from the neck down. Midorima's arms were under the blanket, too, holding him secure.

Takao smiled. It was a lot more gentle than the usual mocking grins he aimed at Midorima. "He must have gotten tired of the videos and needed to rest. He could have said something. We would have turned it off and tucked him in to bed."

Midorima shook his head. "Joji-chan does not trust us nearly enough yet to let his needs be known. He's afraid of being a bother."

Takao made a tiny noise of pain, but didn't disagree. His smile faded but didn't disappear. "He trusted you enough for this, though. That's amazing. He saw right through your tsundere facade."

Midorima frowned, but his arms only tightened around the boy under the blanket. "It is often the case for children who have been..." He hesitated. Akashi though he might brush over it or use a euphemism. But Midorima's nostrils flared, and he pressed on. "...abused. They tend to be good at reading people. They have to be, to avoid the random rages of their abusers as much as they can. No one is born preternaturally observant. It's a skill learned for one compelling reason or another. And it seems that it's one that Joji-chan has learned almost as well as Kagami Tetsuya."

He met Takao's eyes. "It might also be because you trust me so thoroughly, of course. You are the first person he dared to accept help from. And the video... He knows we get along."

Takao's grin broadened. "Nah. He's just observant enough to pierce through your tsun-tsun exterior to the soft, fluffy dere-dere inside, Shin-chan."

Midorima sniffed. "Believe what you wish."

"Of course." Takao yawned cavernously, not bothering to cover his mouth, then plopped down on the floor beside the windowseat. He pulled his feet together, sole to sole, socked toes wiggling joyously, and grinned up at Midorima. "What other wisdom do you have to share with us, O Sage?"

Midorima squinted down at him. One hand rose out of the blanket to press the side of Joji's head, cradling him closer to Midorima's chest and covering his ear. "First, you should be more quiet, idiot. Joji-chan is sleeping, and he has had a very difficult day."

Takao pressed one finger over his lips in smiling agreement. He did not say another word. Akashi considered, then sat down, too, his back against the wall beside the window. Midorima had evidently done some research on child abuse and its effects. Akashi was curious to hear what he would say, too.

"It's mostly common sense," Midorima grumbled after a moment in which Takao was determinedly quiet, waiting for him to speak. "You could probably figure it out for yourself."

Takao's voice was sober now. "We know he's been neglected. His mother rejected him right in front of us, told him to stop bothering her. That's emotional abuse, certainly. And she struck him hard enough to knock him down. That's physical abuse. Is that what you mean by 'common sense?' You think he's been suffering all of these things for a long time?"

Midorima grunted. "It's obvious, isn't it? This wasn't something that only happened tonight. She ground it in to him."

"That's why you say he's afraid of being a bother? Why he won't ask for anything?"

Midorima was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was almost inaudible. "It's obvious."

"What does that mean for Joji-chan's future?"

Midorima's voice sharpened. "And why are you asking about Joji-chan's future, Takao?"

"Because I intend to be part of it." Takao's voice was cheerful, as usual, but it was leavened with a great deal of hard, steady determination. He meant that statement. Meant it with everything he had.

"Why?"

"Because I must."

They were silent. Akashi watched Takao's face, bright and clear in the soft light streaming in the window. Takao was still looking up at Midorima and Joji asleep on his chest.

Takao sighed, shoulders falling down, but he continued. "Two years ago, when we found out about Tetsu-chan... Do you know how hard I cried?"

Midorima said nothing.

"I know my hands were shaking at that apartment. And afterward. I held it in as much as I could, but it was hard. It was impossible. And when I got home, I cried. My mom found me, of course. She always does. I told her about it. I told her how much I wanted to do something, but I couldn't. Tetsu-chan already had lots of people taking care of him. People who had known him for far longer than I had, whom he trusted without question. I would just be an intrusion. But there was still this great...ache. Inside me. It seemed to take up my whole being. I couldn't make it go away.

"So my mom made me a promise. If we ever heard of anything like this, if we ever had a young relative who needed a home, or a neighbor, or anything like that, we would be the ones. We would fill the gap. I wanted to volunteer somewhere, with kids like this, but they said I was too young. I would have had to get training, certification... And someday, maybe I will. I don't know. The ache has faded over the years, but it never went away.

"And now there's this. This small boy who has been so very badly hurt. And this time, I found him. I was the first one there. I was the one who got to hold him, who felt his little arms wrap around my neck, so slow at first, so frightened. And then so close. So tight. So trusting.

"I'm going to call in my mother's promise."

He looked at Akashi for the first time. "You said you would help. You would keep him from going to an orphanage."

Akashi nodded slowly. "He might have relatives, though. We don't know anything about him. He might have grandparents, or aunts and uncles, who would be good to him. It would be better for him to be with people he knows, don't you think?"

Takao's face went dark. "They should have saved him earlier."

"Maybe they didn't know."

Takao stared at the floor. His hands clenched into fists in his lap.

Akashi sighed. "But if he has no family, or if the relatives we find don't seem suitable... I swear to you, Takao, if there is any possibility that his new situation would be anything less than heaven on earth, I won't allow it. I wouldn't in any case, but with you, and your mother's promise..."

Takao looked at him again. His face beamed with hope. Akashi almost felt himself blinded.

"I would trust you with this little boy above almost any other person in this world. That is the truth."

Takao looked up at Midorima again, still beaming. "See, Shin-chan? Akashi-kun trusts me. So tell me about Joji-chan's future, dear tsundere sage."

Midorima blew out a quiet little snort. "You are as ridiculous as ever, Takao." But he sighed and settled himself back in the windowseat, still holding Joji close. "Very well. Joji-chan will need guardians who understand that he will not be normal, not at first. Not for a long time, perhaps. He will need guardians who will not scold him if he shrinks from them, or if he hides food in his room because he's afraid of going hungry, if he is frightened by loud noises or if he wakens the house with his nightmares. He will need kindness and affection and understanding.

"Trust will be slow, and what was possible one day may not be possible the next. When he begins to feel comfortable, he may be clingy, desperate for the affection he was denied for so long. It might be uncomfortable, and his guardians may need to explain personal boundaries to him so that he does not alarm visitors. He will need to be taught that it is okay to ask for things. That it is okay to be sad, and that the people around him aren't angered when he cries. That it is okay to be selfish, once in a while.

"He will need to be reassured, probably daily, that he is not a burden. That you want him there. That he is loved. He will not believe it, not for a long time. You will have to be persistent.

"It will not be fun. You must banish any romantic notions from your head before you begin this...this quest you have set for yourself. Joji-chan will not be cute, not all the time. He will be exasperating. He will be terrifying. You will wonder what you are doing wrong when he regresses. You will blame yourself for things that are not your fault. You will lose track of the bigger picture when you are caught up in the day-to-day struggle of trying to heal a broken child. You will be stressed and distraught, and you will probably cry nearly as often as he does.

"Eventually, he may turn rebellious. He will test the boundaries you set for him, over and over and over again. He will be waiting for you to reject him. He will be waiting for you to hit him, and yell at him, and turn him out into the cold. You will have to prove yourself again and again. Sometimes he will seem desperate, anguished, and you will understand why he is doing it. Other times he will just seem angry and defiant, and you will wish that you could discipline him as you would any other misbehaving child. You will be tired. You will be exhausted. But you must not be the first to break.

"And when he comes to you, you must always be open."

They were silent for a long moment, taking this in.

Eventually, Midorima spoke again. "There, Takao. This is the future I have foretold for you. Will you accept it? No one would blame you if you didn't. It is not a foretelling of great fortune. It is one full of struggle and pain and tears. You can turn away from it."

Takao stared at the floor. Then he lifted his head, slow and solemn in the light. And he smiled.

"I accept it. There's a big reward at the end of that path. That's what I want. Who ever asked for great fortune, anyway? Not me."

"No." Midorima's voice had gone very soft, almost tender, in stark contrast to the hard, unforgiving tone he'd used while telling Takao and Joji's future. "You never did."

Tetsu woke with his mouth full of fur. Sometime after Taiga had finally gone to sleep, Dad had urged him to go home and get some rest. "You've been here for more than twenty-four hours," he said. His voice was firm, but his eyes were pleading. "I know you haven't slept much, and all you've had is convenience food. Go. Have a meal. Take a bath. Come back in the morning."

"You haven't been any better off," Tetsu argued. "You think I can't see the rings around your eyes? International flights are awful. If you can stand it, so can I."

But then Aniki and Mura-nii ganged up on him, too, saying that they knew he hadn't been sleeping well in that chair. Even Mura-nii regretfully said that snacks were not enough. So in the end, he'd agreed to go and rest for a few hours.

He didn't go home, though. Somehow, he didn't think he would be able to stand those empty rooms, usually so full of light and life. Aomine had taken Nigou home with him sometime in the middle of the day and sent Tetsu a text letting him know that Aomine's house would be open to him anytime he wanted to come. Tetsu took him up on the offer.

He did feel bad about waking up Aomine's mom when he got there. But she welcomed him kindly, and in moments Aomine was at the door, too, eyes wide, hair sleep-tousled. He barely waited for Tetsu to hang up his jacket before he wrapped him up in a big, warm hug and asked him if he was okay.

Tetsu held still for a moment, startled into silence. Aomine had grown much warmer since the bad old days, but this was still a shock. Then he remembered that he had sent Aomine alone, late at night and with no information, to his dark apartment where only Nigou was waiting. Nigou, and a bloody cloth in the kitchen sink. When he remembered that, it made sense.

"I'm okay, Aomine-kun," he murmured, and he put his arms around him in return. "Taiga-nii is okay, too. Dad's with him now. We're all okay."

Then Nigou had come rushing down the hallway, his nails clattering on the floor, and almost bowled them both over.

Aomine was clearly bursting with questions, but Tetsu was too tired to talk much. Aomine bullied him through a quick bath and some heated-up leftovers, then forced him into his own bed while Aomine took a futon on the floor. Tetsu was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. He was only vaguely aware, in the last moments before sleep took him, of Nigou's heavy body climbing up on the bed to lay half alongside and half on top of him.

So of course he woke up with a mouth full of fur. In the night, Nigou had migrated further onto Tetsu's body and halfway up his chest, and now Tetsu was trapped. In addition, air was becoming something of a precious commodity.

"Nigou..." He shoved at the furry bulk as much as he could with one arm pinned and the other at a bad angle. It was not very effective. Nigou snuffled and might have actually shifted even closer to his head, then went still again. Tetsu sighed and fell limp. He would have to call Aomine to rescue him.

He stared up at the ceiling. Light was creeping across it, so the sun was up. On a normal day he would be in the kitchen by now, eating natto and rice while Taiga shoveled cornflakes into his mouth as fast as he could. Dad would already be gone for his long commute across half of Tokyo, or if it was a day when he could work at home, he would be pulling the bento boxes from the fridge for them. Nigou would be tramping happily around the kitchen, bumping into everyone's legs and begging for handouts. Sometimes Taiga let him lap up the leftover cornflake milk when he was done, which was a bad habit. Nigou always had the worst farts later. Taiga thought it was funny. Tetsu and Dad, not so much.

All of a sudden, Tetsu was blinking back tears. The longing for this to be a normal day flooded his chest, holding him down much, much more heavily than Nigou's soft weight. He hadn't cried, he hadn't... All through that long night, and the long day, and the long evening, he'd held it in. He'd been strong for Taiga, for himself, for his father rushing to meet them both. He hadn't even cried when Dad hugged him the hall, though he had thought for a moment that he would, especially when he'd heard him sniffling right against his ear.

A quiet sound split the silence, and Tetsu realized that it must have been what woke him in the first place. It was the text notification on his phone. He looked around, completely unable to remember what he'd done with the phone last night. Had he left it in his pocket, piled on the floor with his dirty clothes? If so, he would never be able to reach it with Nigou draped over him like this...

No. He'd kept it close at hand. Of course. He had been anxious for any news from the hospital. The phone was on the bed beside his pillow, half-hidden in the bedding. Tetsu reached over with his free hand and scooped it up, then held it to his face.

From: Akashi
>>I'm sorry you've all been so worried about the little boy.
>>I have good news. Midorima and Takao found him last night.
>>He has been badly mistreated, but he's safe now. His name is Joji.
>>We can bring him to visit when you're ready. And when he's ready.
>>In the meantime, you can show your brother this.

The last text was a photo. It showed Midorima sitting in the windowseat at Akashi's apartment, his face serene. In his arms was a sleeping child, head resting peacefully on Midorima's chest. Tetsu's breath released in a gasp of relief and joy.

It was okay. Everything was okay. The little boy was okay. They hadn't been lying to Taiga last night. Tetsu hugged his phone to his chest for a moment, completely overcome.

"Joji," he murmured to himself. "His name is Joji."

Akashi said he'd been mistreated. Tetsu lifted the phone again and stared at the photo. What had happened to that little child? It was a good sign that he was already so trusting of Midorima, though. And Tetsu was sure that Akashi and Takao had taken good care of him, too. Still, he couldn't stop staring at the picture.

"Tetsu?"

Tetsu couldn't see Aomine over the bulk of the dog, but he looked up anyway. "Aomine-kun. Thank you for taking care of me."

"Yeah, sure." Aomine moved further into the room, kicking through the futon and blankets left on the floor, and reached the head of the bed so he could grin down at Tetsu. Then he frowned when he saw the way Tetsu was clutching his phone. "Is everything okay? Did you get bad news?"

Tetsu shook his head and smiled. "The opposite. It's good news. Very good news."

He held out his phone for Aomine to look at the photo. Aomine took it carefully from his fingers and stared at it without blinking for several moments, his face blank, before he just as carefully gave it back. "I don't get it. Midorima has a little cousin or something? Why is that great news?"

Tetsu smiled widened. "Not quite." He shoved at Nigou again, trying to push his way out, but gave up again after only a few seconds. "Here, help me get up, and I'll tell you everything."

Aomine laughed, warm and low and rich, and snapped his fingers near Nigou's face. "Come on, Nigou," he said. "Come along, puppy. Don't you want some breakfast?"

Nigou knew that word. His ears popped up at once, and he lifted his head, then decamped from his perch atop Tetsu's body with heavy grace. On the floor, he danced from foot to foot while Aomine rubbed his head with both hands, still laughing. Tetsu sat up in bed, Aomine's enormous t-shirt sliding off one shoulder, and yawned so hard he felt his jaw crack.

He looked around for his dirty clothes, though he was not looking forward to putting them on again. They were probably so stiff with dried sweat and desperation that they could stand up on their own. But he didn't find them, just piles of Aomine's magazines and junk food wrappers and old jerseys. "Oi, where are my clothes?"

"Ma is laundering them for you." Before Tetsu could protest, Aomine raised a hand to cut him off. "She wanted to do it. We all feel bad about Kagami being hurt, and we all want to do what we can for you and your family. So just accept it, okay? C'mon, let's go eat breakfast. There's rice and miso and grilled fish. You can smell it from here."

Tetsu could only nod meekly. Breakfast was very good, eaten in Aomine's small, cramped kitchen with Nigou pressing up against them and trying to sneak under the table to beg for scraps, which was impossible since Nigou was huge and the space under the table was almost nonexistent. He had gotten a bowl of the kibble Aomine had taken from the Kagami apartment, but he was much more interested in the fish. Aomine just laughed at him and called him puppy, and Tetsu was amused at first, then annoyed, especially when Nigou shoved at his chair hard enough to push it several centimeters across the floor, jamming Tetsu's abdomen into the table before he could stop it.

He didn't blame Nigou for being clingy, though. It had been cruel of him to leave him alone in that dark apartment, rushing away to the hospital and abandoning the poor dog with Taiga's blood still crusting in his fur. Tetsu was more grateful than he could express for Aomine going there and taking care of Nigou, and Aomine had done it without a question, without a murmur. Tetsu really had very good friends, and he was grateful for all of them.

Aomine wasn't even questioning him now, just sitting amiably beside him and eating his way through as much food as he could get his hands on. Tetsu watched him with a small smile for a moment, just glad to be here. Then he finally opened his mouth. "About the little boy..."

Aomine looked at him, raising his eyebrows expectantly. His mouth was still full of food.

Tetsu smiled and told him everything, as promised. When he finished, Aomine stared at him solemnly. He'd stopped eating several minutes ago and just sat there in silence, listening. "You should text your dad that picture right away, so he can show Kagami," he said.

"I did." Tetsu smiled. "While you were getting your first plate of food. I texted Akashi, too, to thank him."

"Can I see it again?"

Tetsu handed over the phone. Aomine stared at the picture again, with much more comprehension this time, then nodded and gave it back. "This is bad," he said. "That poor little tyke... What happened to him? It's a good thing your brother was there to save him, whatever was going on."

Tetsu sighed and nodded. He had some guesses about what had happened when Taiga was stabbed, but he would have to wait for confirmation until he was back with his brother. Or, perhaps, until Akashi brought Joji for a visit. One or the other of the two would surely be able to tell the tale, now. And then they could have the person responsible arrested, and they could all breathe a sigh of relief.

"I'm glad he's with Midorima and Akashi, anyway," Aomine said. "They're probably the most responsible of any of us. Joji-chan is in good hands."

"And Takao-kun," Tetsu said. He stared at the photo some more, too. He remembered the way Takao's hands had been shaking on that Sunday so long ago in the Kagami apartment, the way his voice had been too high-pitched, his face tight with stress. And he hadn't even known Tetsu all that well at that time, mostly just from basketball, and that as opponents. How must he have felt when he and Midorima found this small, mistreated boy? "I have a feeling he's been taking good care of Joji-chan, too."

Aomine hummed. He sat still for a moment longer, then pushed back from the table and ruffled Nigou's ears as he stood. "I'm gonna go check on your clothes. I think we should get you back to the hospital as soon as possible."

Tetsu looked up at him. "Don't you have to go to school?" He knew Momoi was very proud of how infrequently Aomine had skipped this year. It would be a shame to break that streak.

Aomine shook his head. "I already skipped yesterday. What's another day?" He grinned at Tetsu's disapproving frown, then ruffled his hair, too. "Don't look so severe, Tetsu. It's a family emergency. The school will understand."

Once again, Tetsu's objections were answered before he voiced them. He could only nod in acceptance.

Taiga woke up and stared up at the ceiling, disoriented. He was... Oh. He was in pain. He was still in the hospital.

Dad had come last night, right? Taiga was pretty sure he remembered that. He was pretty sure... He'd been having that dream, the one with the knife, the one...

No. It was all mixed up in his head, but he thought... The kid. It hadn't been Tetsu. He'd thought it was, for some reason, but it wasn't. He'd been having bad dreams. He'd kept thinking that it was Tetsu there, under that streetlight, threatened by that flash of a knife...

Nigou had been barking. He'd been barking like mad. He'd been just as terrified as Taiga had been.

Taiga lifted a hand, shaky, and held it over his face. He looked at fingers, watched the way they moved as he tried to close his hand into a fist. He was so weak. So, so weak. Had he been too weak to save the little boy? To save Tetsu?

No, no. He had saved Tetsu. He knew that. He did, he... Tetsu was safe now. He was Taiga's little brother, and Dad was home, Dad had come home, they all lived together now. That big, empty apartment wasn't empty anymore. They all ate together, and they laughed and watched movies and had company whenever they felt like it, and sometimes if Taiga didn't understand his homework he would go and ask Tetsu, and if neither of them understood they would go and ask Dad. Tetsu had been worried about bothering him at first, but Dad had loved it. The first time they went to him, Dad smiled so huge he almost broke his face, and Taiga grinned, too, and then Tetsu smiled, small and tentative at first, not quite sure it was allowed, but then bigger, and bigger, and Taiga had felt like his heart was going to burst in his chest, he'd been so happy. Over homework, of all stupid things, why, why had that been so important, why had it made him so happy...

Taiga laid his weak, shaking hand over his face. He felt himself trembling, felt the sweat that dotted his temples and the sides of his face. He'd had a fever. Did he still have a fever? No, maybe it had broken. Maybe that was why he was able to think with more clarity now, to remember what was real and what was a dream. He hadn't been sleeping well, he knew that much, he'd kept waking up from bad dreams. He'd been so troublesome. Tetsu had had to keep reassuring him over and over again that Tetsu was okay, that Taiga was okay, that Nigou was okay, that Dad was coming soon.

He didn't need to ask, now. He remembered Tetsu squeezing his hand, leaning over him. He'd smiled, small and calm, but worry had wrinkled the flesh between his eyes, and Taiga hated that. Taiga wasn't supposed to worry Tetsu. Tetsu wasn't supposed to be worried. That wasn't Tetsu's job. Tetsu was just supposed to be happy now, forever and forever. He was supposed to be healthy and strong and happy, and it was Taiga's job to make sure that he stayed that way.

He'd been falling down on the job, lately. It was unacceptable.

"Taiga?" Dad's voice, quiet and soothing. There was movement in the room, and his voice came closer to the bed. "Are you awake, son?"

Taiga slid his hand down his face and opened his eyes again. Dad. Dad was there.

Taiga's eyes got blurry. Again. Ugh. Why. "Hey there, Daddy-o." It was a bare whisper. His voice was choked.

Dad smiled, but it looked watery, too, and it wasn't just because of the tears obscuring Taiga's vision. "Hey there, Tiger Cub."

Then his hand was there, swiping across Taiga's face, blotting his tears with a tissue. "Don't try to move, okay, Taiga? You're hurt."

"Yeah." Taiga let his hand fall sideways off his face. His dad took the hand in his and held it tight. "I'm sorry, Dad."

"Nothing to be sorry for." Dad's other hand came up and held the side of his face. His thumb stroked gently across Taiga's cheekbone, wiping away the tears that kept welling up. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I went running. I went too far and got in trouble."

Dad chuckled, low and soft. The sound seemed ripped out of his chest. "Is that what you're worried about? Don't. Don't be sorry. You were being yourself. I would be more upset if you didn't get in trouble now and then, my kind-hearted son. It's unnatural for teenage boys to be as good as you and Tetsu-chan are. I can hardly believe how lucky I am to have two such sweet and adorable boys to call my own."

Taiga blew out a breath in something like a laugh. "You're the only one who thinks I'm sweet and adorable, Dad."

"Well, and so what? I'm allowed. I'm your father. Fathers are allowed to think that their children are sweet and adorable. And in this case it happens to be true."

A smile crept across Taiga's face despite himself, despite everything. He let his eyes slide shut and relaxed against the pillow. He squeezed his dad's hand, felt his fingers gently petting his face. It was good. "I missed you," he whispered.

"I missed you too, Tiger Cub. They say the world is getting smaller all the time, what with the technology that keeps us connected, that speeds up the pace of our lives. But I'll tell you, there's nothing to remind you of just how wide the world is like getting a call that your son has been injured when you're on the other side of the planet."

"I'm sorry," he had to say again.

"Not your fault. It couldn't be helped." His voice was even firmer than before. Then his voice lightened. "Though to be sure, my boss might disagree. I damn near threw a temper tantrum in the middle of a very important meeting. You would have laughed at your old dad, Taiga-chan. You would have wondered if you would have to parent me from now on, since I had suddenly regressed to a toddler."

Taiga smiled reluctantly, trying to imagine it. He couldn't quite wrap his head around the idea. "Good thing I'm eighteen now."

"Yep. You might have had to take over the household affairs."

"Do you still have a job?" Taiga dared to tease him. He opened his eyes to look at his father, saw him sitting there by the bed, beaming like a sunrise. It was so, so good to see his face. "Will Tetsu-chan have to become a salaryman to keep the house running?"

Dad grinned. "What a terrible thought. I love you both, but you are not suited to be parents yet. Would Tetsu-chan work while you tended the house?" His voice went thoughtful, suddenly. "Though you already do most of the cooking and cleaning, actually. Tetsu-chan and I should help out more."

Taiga offered him a smile. He was completely relaxed now, basking in the warmth of his father's presence. "I'm happy to do it."

"I know." Dad's voice was soft. "So don't you dare say that I can't call you adorable and sweet, you silly child. Tetsu-chan and I are both lucky beyond measure to have you in our lives. We couldn't bear to lose you."

Taiga's chest felt tight. He closed his eyes, swallowing against the lump in his throat. "You won't."

Dad squeezed his hand. "That's right, we won't. You're going to be just fine."

Taiga lay still, accepting this. He remembered how frantic he'd been yesterday, his need to see his father like a hole in his gut that couldn't be filled. Tetsu's presence had been precious and important, and Aniki had helped too, and Taiga had the notion that several other people had also been looking out for him. But nothing was quite like this. Nothing was quite like knowing that his dad was nearby, taking care of him.

It was strange. When Dad had taken off for his week-long business trip, Taiga had been pleased and proud. He felt like Dad was trusting him to look out for the house and keep things running, even though he'd done that alone for a whole year when he was fifteen and sixteen. But this time Dad was trusting him with Tetsu, too, and that was something else. That was a lot more important than a house. Taiga had felt strong and important and very, very mature at the ripe age of eighteen.

Now, that had all fled away. Taiga felt small. Small, and weak, and very young. He wanted his dad. He didn't want to be alone. He didn't want to take care of anything. He just wanted to lie here, and be still, and feel Dad's hand wrapped around his, strong and warm and solid. He hadn't truly been able to relax until his father arrived to take over all of the responsibility. And now, he felt like he could go right back to sleep, five minutes after he'd woken.

"Taiga." Dad's hand pressed his, gently but insistently. "I know you want to sleep, and that's good, it's good for you. But I need to tell you something, first."

Taiga opened his eyes, forcing them to stay as they kept wanting to slide shut again, and turned his head to look into Dad's face. He had to clear his throat to get the words out. "Yeah? What is it?"

Dad suddenly looked worried. "Are you thirsty? I can call a nurse to get some water for you."

Taiga considered. His stomach roiled at the thought of taking anything inside, but his throat and mouth were dry. He felt kind of gummy and raw, probably from all the crying. And he would like a bath, but he realized that that probably wasn't going to work out any time soon. Eventually, he nodded. "Water sounds good."

"All right. Coming right up." Dad started to reach out for a button on the side of the bed, but movement on the other side of the room stopped him and he looked up. His face instantly smoothed out in relief. "Oh, Tatsuya, I'm sorry. I forgot you were still here. If you would?"

Taiga tried to turn his head to look at his big brother, but he was sluggish, too slow. Aniki said something in a low voice, then left the room. Dad tapped the side of Taiga's head to get his attention again, and he turned his face back toward him, struggling to keep his eyes open.

Dad's face was gentle, but his eyebrows were raised in anxiety. "Taiga, did you have any more bad dreams?"

Taiga blinked. That's right, he'd been... He'd been dreaming... "About...about the knife?" he asked slowly.

Dad nodded. "Tatsuya and Tetsu-chan both told me that your sleep has been disturbed a lot since the attack. And do you remember last night, when I first got here?"

Taiga narrowed his eyes. He remembered breaking down, remembered throwing a fit until they helped him sit up so he could grab onto his dad with both hands just as hard as possible. It was embarrassing to remember, but he wasn't sure why Dad was bringing it up. "I remember. I...I'm sorry I was a brat."

Dad shook his head. "No, no. You weren't. You were scared and you wanted to be sure I was there with you. There's nothing wrong with that. But that's not what I was asking about. You were very worried about something. About someone. Do you remember? It's okay if you don't remember. You can go back to sleep, even. But if you do remember, I want to make sure that you won't be worried anymore."

"Oh. I..." Taiga's breath caught, and his eyes widened. He stared at his father, his chest suddenly jerking with frantic need. "I do. I do! It was...it was..."

"Taiga, Taiga, calm down." Dad held his face again, pressing his palm along Taiga's cheek. "Shh, shh, it's all right." He grimaced in displeasure, not at Taiga but at himself. "I was trying to keep you from being distressed, not make it worse."

Taiga stared at him, his breath hitching in his throat. "There was a little boy. There was a little boy, Dad! And there was a knife, and the little boy was in danger, and I was the only one there, and Nigou was barking and barking and barking..."

"Taiga, shhh, hush now, calm down." Dad stood up so he could lean closer to him. All Taiga could see now was his father's face, firm and steady and very near. "Listen to me. I need you to listen, all right? I have something to tell you."

Taiga drew a shaky breath and went as still as he could, staring at him without blinking. "I... Okay. Okay, Dad. I'm listening."

"Good. Good. That's my brave boy." Dad stroked his face again. "Listen. The little boy is safe. He's as safe as can be. Tetsu-chan's friends found him last night. He's at Sei-chan's apartment now. His name is Joji. You saved him, and he's safe, and everything is okay."

Taiga stopped breathing for a moment. “Are you sure, Dad?” he choked out when he could speak again. “Are you really, really sure?”

Dad nodded. “I’m sure. Sei-chan sent us a picture. The little boy is safe. His name is Joji, and he’s safe.”

“A picture?” Taiga tried to breathe. It was strangely difficult. “Could I see it? Please, Dad, could I see the picture?”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course, Taiga, yeah. Just a moment.”

Dad patted his face one last time, then let go of him so he could lean away for a moment. Taiga watched him, still struggling to breathe. In a second Dad was back, leaning over the bed with his phone in his hand. “Here it is, see? A very sweet picture, isn’t it? Midorima-chan doesn’t usually seem like the type to cradle a child so tenderly. But of course he’s a good boy, of course he is. He’s Tetsu-chan’s friend.”

Taiga raised his hand, trying to grip the phone so he could hold it close to his face and stare at the picture. But his weak grip failed, closing on air, and his hand fell beside his face again. He stared and stared at the little boy in that photo, trembling a little as Dad fought to keep his hand still. The boy was so small, and his face was still and serene in the moonlight. Joji. His name was Joji.

Somewhere, a machine started shrieking wildly.

Taiga remembered. He remembered everything.

Taiga was running. The cold air sped past him, sharp against his skin. His lungs were burning with the deep breaths he was taking, his arms and legs pumping in comfortable rhythm. Nigou ran beside him, heavy paws thudding on the pavement, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. Taiga was holding a leash, but it didn't matter. He and Nigou had long ago figured out a pace where they could stay side by side, the leash slack between them, as they ran and ran to their hearts' content.

The only thing that could make this better was if Tetsu came with them, but he just didn't have the stamina, and he probably never would. It couldn't be helped, and at least Taiga and Nigou had each other for company when they both needed to get out of the house and race beneath a white moon.

Speaking of... The moon seemed brighter than it had been at the beginning of this run. Taiga looked up at the sky, trying to figure it out. Something had changed, something had... Oh. They weren't running through commercial districts and busy neighborhoods anymore, constantly bustling even this late at night. They were in a residential area of some sort, one that Taiga didn't recognize at all.

His pace began to slow, and Nigou ran out in front, tugging at the leash. Taiga whistled to him, his feet thudding slower and slower on the pavement. "Oi, Nigou! Stay with me, pup!" They both came to a stop under a yellow streetlamp, panting, legs trembling with adrenaline.

Taiga bent over for a few moments, his hands on his thighs. He let the rush of the run fade from his body, then slowly raised himself and looked around again. Yeah, he...really didn't know this area at all. Damn it, he'd done it again. Dad and Tetsu were gonna be annoyed at him for prancing off like an idiot and getting himself lost. Taiga turned around where he stood, looking for some street signs or a familiar landmark, something to help him get his bearings. Nigou pressed against his leg, a high-pitched whine signaling his distress.

Taiga reached down to his pat his head. "Aw, what'samatter, Nigou? Does this place seem scary all of a sudden? It's just a dark neighborhood, that's all. It's only houses and gardens."

But yeah, hey, wow, it was really dark around here. That was why the moon had suddenly seemed so much brighter. There weren't as many lights to compete with it in the sky. Most of the houses were blank and dead, as if no one even lived in them. The streetlamps, too, seemed kind of weak, their light yellow instead of bright white, spreading over the pavement like pools of sickly oil.

Taiga took a few more steps down the street, his head swiveling around as he tried to take it in. If he ended up having to call a taxi, he needed to know where to tell the driver to come, and right now he was completely useless. He could always bring up the GPS on his phone and look at his location on the map, but that seemed kind of silly when he should just be able to find a street sign. And maybe he wasn't too far out, after all. Maybe he could figure out where he was and run home before his energy failed him.

Wait... There was a house with lights on. Taiga took a few steps closer, just because it was comforting to know that he wasn't alone out here in the dark with only Nigou to keep him company. Blue light spilled out from a living room window, and the light beside the door was shining, too.

Taiga heard voices, muffled and exuberant, tinny music... Oh, it was the sounds of a TV turned up very loud, leaking through the walls. Well, with all the houses around being so dark, it probably wasn't bothering the neighbors. Still seemed kind of rude, though. Why would you need the TV to be so loud? Taiga drifted a litte closer now, out of curiosity more than anything.

Then he heard it. Almost buried under the sound of the television, small and hesitant, almost scared. A small fist knocking on wood, and then a child's voice, tiny and plaintive, shaking in the cold. "Please let me in. Please, Mama, please, I'll be good. I'll be good, I promise. Please let me in. I'll be so good."

A chill ran over Taiga's neck and shoulders. It was dark out, and it was cold. What was a child doing out here? His feet began to move, taking him toward the sound of that sad little voice.

"Please, Mama." He sounded like he'd been saying it for a long time. "Please, please, please. I'll be so good."

Taiga found the garden gate. He reached up and rattled it. It was locked. He dropped Nigou's leash, trusting him to stay near, then grabbed the top of the gate and vaulted over.

And there he was. Exactly what Taiga had expected to find, yet somehow hoped not to. It was a little boy, sitting on the back step of his own home, huddled in the doorframe. He had turned around at the noise and was staring at Taiga with terror stark on his face, his eyes wide and mouth open.

He wasn't wearing a jacket, just jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. He wasn't even wearing a jacket.

Taiga raised his hands and slumped his shoulders, doing his best to reduce his height and breadth at least a little. He remembered the bad time two years ago, when Tetsu had been so fragile, so easy to startle. Taiga had learned how to change his stance and his movements then, how to make himself non-threatening so he could slip quietly into Tetsu's personal space and offer him comfort when he was unable to receive it from anyone else. It might not work with this little boy. The size difference between them was much greater, and this boy did not have their foundation of months and months of trust and faith and back-breaking work together. But he could try.

"Hey," he said, his voice as gentle as he could make it. "Are you okay, little buddy? I'm not gonna do anything, I promise. I was just worried because you sounded scared."

Well, the child had sounded miserable, and cold, and hopeless, and lonely. But fear had definitely been somewhere in there, too.

The boy just stared at him. He huddled even further back into the doorway and wrapped his arms tight around his body. "I'm...I'm..."

Taiga had a flash of inspiration. "Hey, do you like dogs? My little brother's dog is with me, right outside. He's kind of big, but he's really nice, I promise. Would you like to meet him?"

The boy's eyes somehow got even bigger. He nodded, slow and awed.

Taiga turned and opened the gate, then snapped his fingers and whistled for Nigou to come in. Nigou padded into the garden, panting happily and wagging his tail. Taiga grinned and ruffled the fur on his neck, then looked back to the boy. "His name is Nigou, Tetsuya the Second, because when he was a puppy he looked a lot like my little brother. Not as much now, but the eyes are still the same. You wanna pet him? He really loves petting."

The boy began to rise to his feet, achingly slow. He seemed drawn to Nigou as if magnetized, his eyes wide and fixed in his little face. "Is...is it really...okay?"

Taiga nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah. Yeah, little buddy. Of course it is. Nigou loves petting."

The boy held out a hand and moved toward them, slow, so slow. Taiga buried his fingers in Nigou's ruff, warning him to be still. They didn't want to scare him off with sudden movements. Nigou understood. Calling him a "therapy animal" to force the building manager to let them bring him home had been a bit of a bluff, but Nigou had also been through training. Nigou sat down on his rump and waited patiently without a verbal order, though he continued to pant happily.

Finally, the boy was there. He reached out and ran his fingers over the top of Nigou's head, barely pressing down. Taiga felt Nigou trembling and knew that he wanted to leap to his feet and lick the boy all over his face. He didn't move, but he whined high in his throat and shifted toward the source of the petting. The boy snatched his hand back to his chest and stared at him with wide eyes. He didn't seem scared, though, just startled.

"See?" Taiga said. "I told you he loves petting. You can pet him a lot more, if you want."

The boy looked up at him. His eyes were sparkling, just a little. Then he returned his gaze to the dog. "Nigou? Tetsuya the Second?"

Taiga nodded. "For my little brother, Tetsu-chan. I'm Taiga-nii." The -nii slipped out without his meaning it to. It was just so familiar, so correct, for those two names to go together. Tetsu-chan. Taiga-nii. It was the way it should be.

"Taiga-nii," the boy said softly. He glanced up at him again. His voice was shy. "I'm Joji."

Taiga grinned. "Nice to meet you, Joji-chan."

A sudden gust of wind snatched the open garden gate and slammed it against the outside fence, causing all three of them to jump. Joji wrapped his arms around his body, shivering violently, and his teeth chattered. Taiga looked toward the door with a mighty frown. "You should go inside," he said. "It's too cold out."

Joji nodded, and that tiny hint of a sparkle was completely gone. His little face was so miserable that it made Taiga's heart hurt. "I w-w-want to," he got out between shivers. "But M-Mama won't let me in yet."

"Maybe she couldn't hear you over the sound of the TV." Taiga left Joji with Nigou and strode toward the door.

Joji's teeth chattered. "I'm n-not supposed to be l-loud, she h-hates it when I'm t-too loud..."

"I can be loud, though," Taiga said grimly. He raised his hand to knock on the door.

"Taiga-nii, n-no, please don't..."

Taiga could barely hear him over the sound of the wind and his own blood rushing in his ears. He didn't care, anyway. This was unendurable, and he wanted to have a word with this woman. Did she just...forget? That her little boy was out here in the cold? Or had she left him on purpose? Either way, there was something very wrong here, and Taiga didn't like it one bit. He knew being put outside was a common punishment for children in Japan, but it was too late at night and the weather was too bad for this to be allowable in any way.

His hand curled into a fist, tendons standing out, and he pounded on the door as hard as he could. "Hey! Hey in there! Open up!"

For a moment, he thought no one would answer. He raised his fist to pound again. Then the TV suddenly clicked off, and he heard movement inside the house. It was hurried, feet stomping on the floor. The sound was somehow furious. Taiga took a step back from the door, breath hitching in his throat. What was he getting into, here?

The door slammed open. A woman stood there, teeth bared, seething. She was Japanese, short, barely reaching the height of Taiga's chest. Yet warning suddenly roared in his ears, and he stepped back on the balls of his feet as his animal instincts screamed at him to run, run now. Her stance was aggressive, and her hair hung around in her face in messy strings, and there was something wrong with her eyes. Too wild, too bloodshot.

High, Taiga thought. She's high on something.

She was holding a belt. It was doubled over in her hand, raised to strike. She thought it was her son on the other side of the door. What, was she going to just whip him across the face with it?

Taiga's fear bled away in sudden fury. He stepped forward again, fists clenched. "Nigou, guard Joji-chan," he snapped over his shoulder. His eyes did not waver from the woman.

"Who are you?" the woman demanded. She did not lower the belt. "Where's my piece of shit kid?"

Taiga ground his teeth. "That's none of your business," he said. "We're going to leave now, and you'll never touch him again." He could hear Nigou behind him, already herding Joji toward the gate. He heard Joji's noises of distress, but he couldn't turn around and make sure the boy was going. He needed to keep his eyes on this dangerous creature that had suddenly appeared in his sight. "I'm taking him away from here. Guess it's just fair to let you know."

"The hell you will," she spat. "You have no right."

"No." Taiga's voice was so low with rage that he could barely hear himself. "It's you who has no right. You and all the other monsters like you." He raised his fists in front of him. "We're going now. And if you come after us, if you even try to lay a finger on Joji-chan at any point in the future, I swear that I will punch you in the face."

It should have been enough. Taiga had ended more than one possible confrontation with just such a declaration. His confidence and obvious strength, and the seriousness in his voice and expression, was usually enough to make a potential attacker think twice. He wasn't sure about this woman. There was something wrong with her. Whatever drugs she was on might overrule all the usual caution. If so, he was certainly willing to punch her in the face right now.

But she hesitated. She grimaced at Taiga, and hatred burned in her eyes, but she didn't step forward. Instead, she growled, low in her throat, like some kind of animal. And she stepped back and slammed the door shut.

Taiga's adrenaline let loose and he staggered, sick to his stomach. He struggled for breath. Without the threat to face, his fight response was lost, kicking over to flight instead. They needed to get out of here. Good lord, they needed to be far away from this place right this instant.

Taiga spun around, head reeling. Joji was at the gate, holding onto the fence with white fingers while Nigou pressed against his body, trying to shove him away. He stared at Taiga with eyes like saucers in his ghost-white face. "Joji-chan." Taiga stumbled toward him, then got his feet under himself a little better and pushed forward into a half-jog, crossing the garden in an instant. "Joji-chan, we're leaving."

The boy's voice was high with terror. "No, no, I can't, I can't, she was so mad! She was so mad, Taiga-nii, I can't!"

"You can. You have to." Taiga couldn't afford to wait, to cajole. He couldn't give Joji time to make a decision the way he had with Tetsu two years ago. Then, Tetsu's father had been against the wall, already contained. This time was different. They needed to get out of here now. Taiga's animal instincts were still screaming at him, louder than ever.

It hurt him to do it, but he put his hand over Joji's and pried his fingers loose from the fence. "Go. Down the street. Nigou, guard Joji-chan." Police, they had to find the police. Taiga didn't know this area. He didn't know where the nearest station was. First step, get out of the garden. Go down the street.

The boy was shaking. Hard. "Taiga-nii, I can't. I can't..."

"You can. I'll help you." First step done. They were out of the garden. Taiga took Joji's small hands in his and pulled him toward Nigou. "Here." He knelt down and placed those little hands on Nigou's neck. "Grab onto his fur. Don't worry, you won't hurt him. Feel how strong and thick it is? Nigou's a husky. He has lots of fur, and it's really warm and nice."

"O-Okay." Joji's fingers dug into Nigou's fur. Nigou looked back at them, whining, ears down.

Taiga patted his head. "I know, boy. I know." He tucked the leash into Nigou's collar so it wouldn't get in the way, then climbed back up to his feet and pointed down the street where they had come from. "Nigou, home. Take Joji-chan home."

It was supposed to be a last resort. If Tetsu got lost again, got separated from everyone, if he had a panic attack and couldn't control himself, he was supposed to be able to grab onto Nigou and let the dog take the lead. They had all hoped it wouldn't be necessary, and Tetsu hadn't had a panic attack for months now, so they had all hoped...

But no. It was good that they had taught Nigou to do this. It was very good.

"Joji-chan, just hold onto Nigou. He'll take care of you."

"O-Okay. If you say so..." The little fingers tightened. Nigou started trotting down the street, though he was careful to keep pace with Joji. Taiga followed behind them, looking around. Somehow he knew, he was absolutely certain, that Joji's horrible mother hadn't given up. She had just taken a tactical retreat from Taiga's fists, from his words.

So he trailed behind them. They weren't moving as quickly as he would have liked, since they could only move at Joji's pace. And Joji was stumbling, his feet probably numb from being locked out in the cold for too long. As soon as they were safe, in a busier neighborhood with more people, Taiga would just pick him up. He would just pick him up and run...

Good lord, what was he doing? Had he just...had he just stolen a little boy from under his mother's nose?

Taiga reached the first streetlight, the pool of sickly yellow light spreading over the pavement. Nigou and Joji were in front of him, still moving. Taiga looked ahead, watching them go. Joji was still holding Nigou's fur. Hopefully he could keep holding on, all the way home.

Something rushed at Taiga from the blind alley to his left in a blur of speed. An explosion went off inside his skull, and he staggered, then fell. Pain encompassed the left side of his head. For a moment he couldn't see, and he flailed on the ground, then finally managed to flop over on his back. He blinked up at the yellow light, gasping. Every limb twitched as he fought to control himself and could not.

Something loomed into his sight, blurred and dark. Taiga gasped, struggling to see. Slowly, his sight resolved until he could make out the figure standing over him. Joji's mother. Of course it was. She was holding a huge, cast-iron wok. And a knife. A long kitchen knife, one of the good ones for chopping the hard vegetables like carrots and yams. The metal glinted in the yellow light.

He couldn't see her face, her expression. As soon as he noticed the knife, it was all he could look at. He stared, transfixed, his breath halting in his chest.

She was going to stab Joji. She was going to stab her little boy. She was going to kill the little boy.

"Nigou, guard," he choked out, but he had no idea if Nigou could hear him. He tried again, louder, his breath burning in his throat. "Nigou, guard!" Nigou barked in response. He barked and barked and barked.

The knife flashed. She didn't stab the little boy. She stabbed Taiga.

Nigou was barking. He was barking and barking. The sound came louder, closer, and then Nigou was standing over him, still barking like crazy. "Nigou, guard," Taiga tried to say through a mouthful of blood, before he realized. Nigou thought that he was supposed to guard Taiga now, not Joji.

"Nigou, guard," he said. The woman was gone. He couldn't see where she'd gone. He didn't know if Nigou could hear him. What if she stabbed the little boy now? What if she, what if she...

"Nigou, guard," he whispered. His vision was fading, black creeping in on yellow. He hurt so much he could barely breathe, but he tried to talk. He thought he heard Joji's voice, crying out in pain. Had she found him? Had she hurt him? What was she doing to him? What was she doing to the little boy? The woman with the belt, the parent with the belt, that abusive monster, that horrible creature, that...

"Nigou, guard... Guard... Tetsu-chan..."

It was gone. It was gone. Everything was gone.

Taiga closed his eyes.

Aomine didn't like hospitals. Something about them made his skin crawl. From the moment they walked in the front lobby, he found himself looking around, eyes darting here and there as his shoulders hunched up around his ears. Maybe it was all the ghosts. Hospitals had to be full of ghosts, right, with all the people who died there? He kept thinking he saw something out of the corner of his eye, but it always slipped away when he turned his head.

Not that Aomine believed in ghosts, of course. That was...that was silly. He just didn't like hospitals. They were creepy.

Tetsu didn't seem to notice. He was focused and intent, striding purposefully across the floor to the elevator and jabbing the button with a stiff finger. Aomine sidled up next to him and stood there, his fists jammed into his pockets. "It's okay if I come, right?" he asked. "I mean...you've had a lot of visitors and stuff. You guys won't be overwhelmed?"

Tetsu shook his head, then looked up and gave him a smile. "You're talking about what Akashi-kun said yesterday?" The elevator arrived and they got on board. Tetsu selected the correct floor. "It's fine, truly. I think I rather...alarmed him with the way I was acting yesterday morning. He was trying to be kind by giving me some space. And maybe I did need it, for a while. But when Kise-kun came, I was glad for his company. And having Aniki and Mura-nii here last night let me relax more fully. Taiga-nii, too. I think he couldn't...he couldn't really let himself feel how sad and afraid he was until Aniki was there to catch him. And then when Dad arrived... That was when he could truly let go."

"I wish..." Tetsu fell silent for a moment, then shook his head, letting the thoughts fall off his shoulders. "Well, it doesn't matter." He gave Aomine another smile, this one much more hesitant, sadness lurking behind his clear eyes. "In any case, the presence of family and friends is very important when you're sick and uncomfortable and out of your element. I can personally attest to that. Taiga-nii might bluster a bit when he sees you, because he always blusters at you. It's part of the fun. But he'll be glad you're there, even so."

Aomine nodded, his shoulders slumping. He was looking forward to hearing Kagami bluster at him, actually. It would be...reassuring. And Tetsu was right. It was part of the fun.

But it didn't happen. When they arrived at Kagami's room, Hiroshi-san met them at the door. He blocked off the view of the bed, intentionally or not. He looked harried and wide-eyed, and Tetsu immediately read the trouble in his eyes. He gasped and started to push past him, trying to make it to his brother, but Hiroshi-san gently grabbed his arms and pulled him around to look at his face.

"Tetsu-chan, Tetsu-chan, it's okay. It's just...we had something of an episode."

Tetsu stared up at Hiroshi-san, his face drawn. "E...Episode? What do you mean? Is it his kidneys again? Is it..."

Hiroshi-san shook his head. "No, no, nothing like that. Physically, he's doing fine, as well as can be expected. All functions are up, just..." He bit his lip. "Listen. I don't want you to blame yourself. No one is to blame."

"For what?" Tetsu said sharply. "Please, Dad, please, just tell me what's going on."

"If anyone is to blame, it's me." Hiroshi-san squeezed his arms, holding him still. "I showed him the picture, Tetsu-chan. I knew he was agitated, I could see how worked up he was getting, but he asked to see it and I showed him. I told him that Joji-chan is safe now, that everything is fine... But still, something about it was too much for him. His heart started beating too fast, all of his vitals went haywire..."

Tetsu stared at him in horror. "Did he have a seizure?"

Hiroshi-san hesitated, then shook his head. "No, the doctors said... It looked similar to a post-concussive seizure, but it wasn't caused by a physical disorder. At least, they're pretty sure. It seemed like, more like... It was more like a very strong emotional reaction."

Tetsu glanced over his father's shoulder, trying to see the bed again, then switched his gaze back to Hiroshi-san's face. "What do you think?"

Hiroshi-san's face was grim and wan. It made Aomine's heart ache in his chest. He hated seeing this family suffer. It was almost worst than it would have felt if it had been Aomine's own dad standing there, looking like that.

"I think that looking at that picture... I think it brought his memories back. I think Taiga remembers the attack and everything that led to it. He hasn't been able to talk about it yet, but... Yes. That's what I think."

Strangely, this seemed to calm Tetsu. He went still, his arms relaxing in his father's grip. He nodded to Hiroshi-san, his face solemn. "I understand. Thank you for warning me. May I please see Taiga-nii, now?"

Hiroshi-san closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded back. "He's been sedated, but he's fighting the effects. I think he might be afraid to close his eyes. He's not quite...coherent. But I'm sure he'll be glad to see you." He looked at Aomine for the first time, acknowledging his presence. "You too, Ao-chan. I know you two fight as much as you get along, but he trusts you. Thank you for coming."

Aomine hunched his shoulders and swallowed against the lump in his throat. "Thank you for welcoming me."

Tetsu reached up to grip Hiroshi-san's forearms briefly, then they let go of each other and Tetsu and Aomine moved into the room. And there, Aomine was certain that he'd found his ghost. Kagami looked...awful. Really, really awful. His face was almost gray, and he looked like he hadn't slept in weeks, though that couldn't be true. He was in the hospital. He was supposed to do nothing but sleep. He had turned his head toward the commotion at the door and was watching them, his eyes like hollow pits in his drawn face. The rest of his body was unnaturally still on the bed, the stillest Aomine had ever seen him, ever.

Aomine ground to a halt, his heart thumping painfully against his ribs, but Tetsu kept going. He was reaching out already, his hand shaking subtly. "Taiga-nii. I'm here. I heard you had a bad time this morning."

Kagami's arm had been resting loosely at his side over the covers. At Tetsu's approach, he turned his hand over so the palm was up and inched it toward the edge of the bed. It seemed to be all the movement he could manage. Tetsu understood perfectly what he wanted. He reached the bed and pressed himself into the rail, then took Kagami's hand into both of his and held on.

Tetsu looked up at Himuro, who was sitting on the other side of the bed, holding Kagami's other hand. "Thank you, Aniki. You look tired. Were you up all night?"

Himuro looked exhausted, though nowhere near as bad as Kagami. He managed a smile. "Hiroshi-san and I did some talking. We wanted to be sure we were awake if Taiga woke up again, but he actually slept pretty well. Until about half an hour ago, anyway."

Tetsu looked to Murasakibara, who was sitting in the recliner against the wall. "You stayed all night, too, Mura-nii? You didn't have to do that."

Murasakibara didn't even try to hide his yawn. "Kaga-chin might have wanted to sit up again."

Tetsu smiled, though to Aomine's eyes it looked tremulous and not near as strong as he wanted it to be. "You could go back to the apartment if you want and get some sleep. Aniki, too."

Murasakibara grunted. Tetsu looked back to Kagami, who was still staring at him with those dark, sunken eyes. Aomine wasn't sure if he'd even blinked. "Everyone is tired, Taiga-nii. They should go to sleep, shouldn't they?"

Kagami blinked, then nodded. Tetsu's voice was so soothing and reasonable that it was impossible to disagree with him. Kagami's eyes flicked over to Aomine, though he barely seemed to recognize him.

Aomine nodded, the movement a little jerky and uncoordinated. "Yeah, I think... Uhh. I think you get what Tetsu's saying, right? You should go to sleep, too."

Kagami frowned. His eyes moved back to Tetsu's face. "Jo...Joji-chan..." His voice was slurred, but the intent was clear.

Tetsu gave him a smile, smooth and wide and confident. "He's fine. He's safe. Akashi-kun and Midorima-kun are taking care of him."

"Joji-chan's...mother..."

Tetsu went very still. "What are you trying to tell me, Taiga-nii? What's so important that you can't go to sleep?"

Aomine heard Hiroshi-san moving up behind them. He was listening intently, Aomine knew without looking at him. Everyone was.

"She...had knife..."

No one breathed. Aomine had suspected this, of course, ever since he had heard all the details that were available so far from Tetsu. Kagami got stabbed, then they found out that a little boy was involved, and Midorima and Takao said the little boy had been mistreated by his mother...

He was sure everyone else had suspected it, too. But it was something else to hear it in Kagami's slurred voice, filled with pain, paper-thin, pulled harsh and stark and awful by all that he'd endured and all that he was still suffering. Aomine had never heard anything quite this terrible in his life, except for that long, fraught evening when he and Kagami had pulled Tetsu's life story from him bit by agonizing bit.

Tetsu was a statue, firm and immovable. He squeezed Kagami's hand in his, even tighter than before. His knuckles were turning white. "What did she do with the knife, Taiga-nii? Did she threaten Joji-chan?"

Kagami blinked. "Joji-chan...with Nigou...ahead of me..."

"So you were alone against her."

Kagami nodded, slow, just once. "Hit me...my head..."

"She had another weapon, too."

Kagami didn't seem to have the energy to nod again. "Yes." It was a thready whisper, barely audible.

Tetsu mouth pressed into a thin line. He didn't want to say the next part. No one wanted him to say it. No one wanted to hear it, least of all Tetsu. But he said it, even so, his voice low and determined. "Then she stabbed you."

"Yes."

Tetsu released a shaky breath. "Okay. Okay. Thank you, Taiga-nii. You told us what we needed to know. We'll take care of the rest. You're safe now. She won't hurt you again."

"Jo..." Kagami couldn't seem to say anything else.

"She won't touch him, either. I swear, Taiga-nii. I swear it."

Kagami frowned, still staring at Tetsu with those awful eyes. He seemed to want something else, but Aomine had no guess at all as to what that might be. Tetsu must have been psychic or something, though, because he just smiled and nodded.

"We'll bring him to visit you so you can see for yourself. Just as soon as possible, I promise. You can sleep now. Everything will be all right."

Kagami didn't exactly relax. It was hard to relax when you were already lying immobile on a bed. But something about his face lightened, let go. His eyes flicked over to Aomine again.

This time, Aomine thought he knew what he wanted. He stepped closer to the head of the bed and pressed his hand down on Kagami's shoulder, steady and firm, just letting him know he was there. "Yeah, I'm here too. I'm gonna look after Tetsu. And when Joji-chan comes, I'll look after him, too. We're all gonna take care of your little brother and your little friend. So you can sleep. Everything's okay."

Kagami let out a breath, slow, relieved. He closed his eyes.

Aomine stood there, holding his shoulder, and let himself breathe, too.

Momoi was going to come by for the credit card, so Akashi had to get up. Yet he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. It had been such a long night. Such a long, long night. Only the sturdiest and most steadfast iron self-control kept him from just turning over on his side and going back to sleep.

But no. Momoi had texted him and said she was going to be here in thirty minutes, so he had to get up. And put on a shirt, perhaps. Akashi glanced at the cellphone he had set back down on the nightstand after blearily reading it when the text notification woke him. Had she also said... Coach Riko was going to go with her?

When had they become friends? It was one of the most terrifying thoughts Akashi could entertain. The two of them trotting around Tokyo, doing whatever they pleased... He shuddered.

At least in this case their combined force would be used for good. Momoi had agreed to do some shopping for him. And Coach Riko... Yes, she would be able to know what sizes to buy after just a glance. Momoi was wise to ask her along. Akashi nodded at the ceiling. Last night, they had all given Joji a great deal of privacy to bathe and dress in a long-sleeved shirt Akashi had provided for him to sleep in, so they still hadn't even gotten a glimpse...

Akashi sighed. He needed to get ready to greet his old manager. After another few seconds to steel himself, he rolled over and got up. He put on a shirt. Some pants, too. He knew Momoi would appreciate it, and he was nothing if not a gentleman when entertaining lady callers.

Speaking of callers... Akashi halted in the bedroom doorway and blinked at the sight in the main room. Last night Midorima and Takao had politely declined Akashi's offer to use his bed, instead choosing to settle down on futons in the main room with Joji between them. Joji had been asleep at the time, but had seemed pleased with the arrangements even so, snuggling into Takao's side as soon as it became available for snuggling. Takao had smiled down at him rather fuzzily, already almost asleep himself, and Akashi and Midorima had a shared a look that was half extreme sappiness, half exasperation at themselves for feeling sappy in the first place.

Now, Midorima and Takao were still asleep, sacked out on the floor. Midorima slept like a soldier, perfectly straight on his back, blanket to his chin and eyes decorously closed, his glasses resting on the floor beside his pillow. Takao slept like a disaster area, blankets tossed off and disarranged, body scrunched almost in half on his futon with limbs akimbo and head buried under a corner of the futon next to his, pillow in a lump at the small of his back.

And Joji... Akashi had expected to find Joji still asleep, exhausted by his ordeal. But the little nest between Midorima and Takao was conspicuously empty. Joji was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, bent over with his back against the sofa arm, staring intently at his lap. He was looking at Akashi's tablet. Akashi heard the faint sounds of a basketball game, volume turned down low, and wondered which footage Joji was watching now.

Akashi stepped forward into the room. He deliberately scuffed his foot on the floor, hoping to alert Joji to his presence without scaring him. The attempt backfired—Joji immediately jerked upright at the sound, eyes wide and face drawn, and the tablet flew out of his hands and thudded to the floor beside the sofa. Again.

Akashi supressed a grimace at the sound. His poor tablet was having a rough time of it. Joji reacted much more dramatically. He clapped his hands over his mouth and stared at Akashi with his eyes welling with tears, shoulders hunching up around his ears. He looked absolutely terrified, and Akashi hurt. It hurt to see a little boy looking at him like that.

There had been a time, once, when Akashi had been happy to inspire fear in people. His opponents, his teammates, his peers. That time was long, long gone. Now, it pierced his heart like a rusty spike.

He went to him, moving as quickly and gently as he could, his hands spread and face open in an attempt to take some of that fear away. "It's okay. It's okay, Joji-chan, you didn't do anything wrong. You didn't hurt anything."

Joji looked at him, then down at the floor where the tablet had fallen. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice muffled behind his hands. "I'm very sorry, please, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Akashi kept his voice low and soothing. He leaned down and picked up the tablet, then sat cross-legged on the sofa, too, facing Joji. He left some space between them, hopefully enough that Joji wouldn't feel threatened by his presence, but not so much that he would feel rejected. He smiled and held out the tablet, which was perfectly whole. No cracks on the screen, not even a scratch on the black matte finish. "It's okay, see? It's not damaged. And even if it had been, I wouldn't have minded. It's just a thing. Things aren't worth getting upset about."

Joji's eyes darted between the tablet in Akashi's hands and up to his face, then back again, over and over. "But I'm...I'm not supposed to, I shouldn't have, I'm not..."

"You weren't supposed to touch your mother's electronics?" It wasn't much of a guess. It was clear from Joji's face that this was exactly what was frightening him. Akashi continued to smile, calm and smooth and genuine. "I am not your mother. I don't mind. You are free to use whatever you like in this apartment." He paused, tilting his head. "Well, I would prefer it if you didn't try to use the stove. If you want to cook something, you should ask someone to help you. We won't mind, I promise. But that's just because I don't want you to burn yourself, not because I have any particular attachment to the stove."

Joji continued to stare at him, his chest heaving for breath. He seemed completely incapable of movement or speech at this point. Akashi realized that just holding out the tablet, waiting for him to take it, wasn't going to work.

Akashi turned the tablet around and looked at the screen. The footage was paused, perhaps pressed accidentally when it fell from Joji's hands, or perhaps he had stopped it here on purpose. For a child who had probably never been allowed to use electronics before, he had picked up how to use this one very quickly just from observing Akashi and Takao last night. The footage was from a Seirin game, though Akashi couldn't tell which one just at a glance. The screen showed an image of Kagami Taiga and Kagami Tetsuya, captured in the middle of one of their coordinated maneuvers. Their faces were intent and focused, glowing with sweat and assurance of success.

Akashi smiled and turned the tablet around so Joji could see the picture again. "Do you like watching them play?"

Joji nodded, his hands still jammed over his mouth. His eyes flicked to the screen, then back to Akashi's face again.

"I like watching them, too." Akashi turned the tablet around and smiled down at his friends. They looked strong and healthy. And happy, even in the middle of an intense moment of basketball. It was almost a miracle. He looked up at Joji again. "Could I show you something?"

Still watching him warily, Joji nodded. Akashi considered, then dared to scoot closer to him on the sofa. Joji leaned back against the arm, but he didn't try to get away. Akashi turned sideways with his back against the back of the sofa and tilted the tablet so Joji could see the screen. Then he moved out of the video program and opened the photo gallery.

It didn't take long to find the ones he wanted. He had visited this section of his tablet many times. They were photos from a summer meet-up with his old teammates, plus some of their close friends. They had gone to a theme park instead of playing basketball for once, and they had had a very good time. Momoi had taken hundreds of photos, he was pretty sure. For his tablet, he had whittled it down to about fifty of his favorites.

The first photo he selected was of Takao and Midorima on a bridge overlooking the log ride. Takao had lured Midorima out there, somehow keeping him from noticing that a log was about to go down the flume. They were both thoroughly soaked in the photo. Takao was bent half over with one hand on his knee and the other pointing at Midorima as he laughed uproariously. Midorima was holding his dripping arms out from his body with an expression of extreme disgust. He looked like a disgruntled cat more than anything else. It was beautiful and hilarious.

It made Akashi smile now, as it always did. He glanced over at Joji without moving his head. Joji was swaying forward to see the screen better, his eyes wide and fascinated as he stared. He didn't seem aware that he was moving. His hands were beginning to loosen from their tight hold over his mouth.

"It's a good photo, isn't it?" he asked gently. "Kazu-nii and Shin-kun are having a lot of fun."

"Shin-kun doesn't look like he's having fun," Joji whispered. Then he jerked his head up to stare at Akashi, eyes wide and alarmed, as if he wasn't supposed to talk.

Akashi smiled. "He doesn't look like it, but he is. You can ask him when he wakes up, if you want to."

Joji nodded. His eyes went back to the screen. Akashi swiped sideways on the tablet to the next photo. He almost laughed aloud. It was of him and Momoi on the old-fashioned car ride, where they drove around a track in a Model T. He couldn't remember now why he had agreed to take such a sedate ride, but Momoi had probably talked him into it. She had found a top hat somewhere and was determined to make Akashi wear it on the ride. He had refused, but in the photo, she was very sneakily placing it atop Akashi's head while he drove carefully on the track, his eyes straight ahead and expression focused as he held the steering wheel conscientiously at ten and two. In the background, Kise, Takao, and several members of Seirin were leaning against the fence around the ride, laughing and waving. Tetsu must have taken this photo—it showed his usual attention to detail.

"Who is she?" Joji asked. His voice was a little louder, and he was leaning even closer to the screen.

"This is Momoi-san. She's going to come by the apartment in a little while." Akashi considered. "Once she meets you, she will probably want you to call her Satsuki-nee, if you don't mind." He was not opposed to Joji calling him Sei-nii, but he had decided not to force the issue. The poor child had enough abrupt changes to deal with. Maybe they could discuss it later, when Joji was not quite so overwhelmed. "She is our very good friend, too."

Joji nodded. His hands had fallen into his lap, now. Akashi knew it was a little mean, but he used the cover of swiping to the next photo to tilt the tablet back toward himself, almost hiding it against his stomach. Joji was forced to lean closer to see the screen. Akashi lifted his arm on that side, trying to provide a welcome place for the boy to sit.

Joji was so engrossed in the screen that he fell into this gentle trap without noticing. He turned sideways, too, sitting with his back against the back of the sofa. Only a handful of centimeters separated Joji from Akashi now, though he held his arms tight to his body, hands clasped in front of his stomach. Akashi made internal victory arms. He would like Joji to be even more relaxed and at ease, but this definitely counted as a success.

They looked at more photos. Murasakibara and Himuro juggling handfuls of food and drinks from a concession stand, passing them out to the rest of the group. Kiyoshi and Sakurai holding stuffed animals they had won from some game or other. Tetsu and Furihata looking queasy after their ill-considered decision to go on the most intense rollercoaster in the park. Aomine and Kagami at the strength-test game, Aomine caught in mid-hammer swing while Kagami looked on, grinning. Kise, Tetsu, and Takao on the teacup ride. Kagami running into Hyuuga in the bumper cars while Hyuuga shook his fist at him.

Akashi paused on a photo of Tetsu and Kagami sitting on a bench, smiling at each other. It was toward the end of the day at that point and they both looked a bit worn out, and Tetsu had a flush to his cheeks that Akashi remembered had later become quite a sunburn. But in that moment, the brothers were happy, just for each other's company. They would have looked like that no matter where they were: a theme park, a fast food restaurant, a basketball game, at home with their father. They just liked being together.

Akashi's breath stuck in his throat. His hand moved of its own volition until the tip of his finger rested on the edge of Kagami's face. Akashi hadn't been back to visit since yesterday morning. How was he doing? Was he recovering from his surgery well? Had he remembered anything else? Had the picture Akashi sent last night reassured him at all?

"That's Taiga-nii," Joji whispered. His eyes were fixed on the screen, hands still tight over his stomach. Akashi turned his head to stare at him for a moment, then looked back to the screen.

"Yes," he said, his throat tight. "He is our very precious friend."

He had first started to value Kagami as an opponent, for his role in breaking Akashi free of the shackles that had bound him. Later he had begun to appreciate him for the good he did for Tetsu, even before everything happened with Tetsu's father and that entire mess. But now, Akashi could acknowledge that he treasured Kagami simply for himself. No other reason was necessary.

"He got hurt," Joji said sadly.

Akashi went very still. He didn't know how he should respond, or if he should say anything at all. He was well-aware that Joji's mother had told him not to say anything about what happened that night. It was highly likely that she had reinforced that instruction with violence. None of them had tried yet to persuade Joji to talk about it. They all had wanted to give Joji at least a few hours to relax, to begin to feel safe. But if he was able to open up on his own...

But Joji curled up into himself, his hands wringing together. "I'm not supposed to talk about it."

"It's okay, Joji-chan," Akashi said gently. "You don't have to. We would like you to, of course, but you don't have to. It's okay. Everything is okay."

"Is it?" Joji's voice was high with distress. His hands squeezed together, again and again, his knuckles turning pale, his fingertips red where they pressed the back of his hands. "Is it okay for me to be here? Is it okay for me to stay with you? With Kazu-nii and Shin-kun? How can that be okay? I don't think it can be okay!"

"Joji-chan..." Akashi's hands felt numb, his tongue too thick in his mouth. His charm, his eloquence had failed him abruptly and completely. What should he say? He had no idea. "Joji-chan..."

He set the tablet aside and turned his body toward the boy, carefully, slowly, trying not to scare him. Joji was so folded up into himself, still wringing his hands, that he barely seemed to notice. Akashi dared to reach out, slowly, slowly, and laid a hand on his shoulder. Joji shuddered at the touch, but didn't pull away.

"Joji-chan, yes. It's okay." His other hand, too. The other shoulder. Joji squeezed his fingers together so hard that Akashi could swear he heard the joints creaking under the stress. "It's okay for you to be here." Akashi could barely speak around the lump in his throat. "We want you to be here. We all want... You are our very precious friend, too. So it's okay for you to be here. We want you to stay with us. We want to you be our little brother forever and forever."

"But that can't be okay!" Joji stopped wringing his hands, but only so he could raise them to his face and press them against his eyes just as hard. "I'm...I'm naughty. I'm a bad boy! I'm a bother, I'm a nuisance, I'm not worth anything. And Seijurou-kun...Seijurou-kun is so kind! You're all so kind! I don't belong here. It's not okay, it's not okay!"

"Joji-chan..." He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do. Akashi looked up, feeling so absolutely crushed by his helplessness that he could think of nothing else. Takao and Midorima were both awake, looking at him. They were obviously just as heartbroken and agonized as Akashi. Neither were rushing to help.

Which...they shouldn't, he realized. He had started this. He needed to finish it. What would Joji think if he just passed him off to Takao now? He would think that Akashi hadn't meant anything he said, that he didn't respond because he couldn't.

"Joji-chan..." Enough hesitating. Enough holding back. It wasn't working. Akashi pulled the stiff little body into his lap and wrapped his arms around him, just as Takao and Midorima had done last night. He tucked his chin over the little shaking head, and he held on as tight as he dared.

"Joji-chan, you belong here. This is my house, right? So I decide the rules. I decide what happens here. Your mother had other rules, and they were bad ones. I know you can't understand that yet, but it's the truth. Someday we'll convince you. She had bad, bad rules, and under those rules, she told you that you were naughty and bad and a nuisance. But it's not true, Joji-chan. It's not true here, and it wasn't true there, either. Not really. She just thought it was true because she has problems, herself. You can't help that. None of us can. But it's different here, I promise. I promise you, it is different here, and this is where we want you to stay."

Joji's body was still bent over, still strung tight and hard by everything that was pouring through him. He sniffled, but he didn't cry. His hands were still pressed against his face so hard that it must be hurting him. "How...how do you know?" His voice cracked. "How do you know my mama has bad rules?"

Akashi sighed. His heart was heavy in his chest. "I know, Joji-chan. I know a lot of things. But I'll tell you a secret. I grew up with bad rules, too. My father taught me things that were not true, and I believed them for a long, long time. Because of those rules, I caused a lot of trouble for a lot of people. But my friends..." He swallowed, then forced himself to go on. "My friends taught me different rules. My friends taught me that my father was wrong. I didn't believe it at first, and it was very hard, but eventually I learned the truth. And I learned to make my own rules to govern myself. I do my very best to follow them, and when I break them, I know that I did wrong. When that happens, it makes me try even harder to follow the right rules in the future. So I know a lot of things, Joji-chan. It took me a long time to learn, but I know. And I can tell you, absolutely and without question, that your mama's rules are bad."

Joji trembled. It was clear that he wanted to believe this, but couldn't yet. Akashi blew out a breath and rubbed his back. "It's okay. You don't have to understand everything right away. For now, I just want you to hold on to this one thing, all right? You are here, and we want you to be here, and it's okay for you to be here. Can you try to believe that for me? I want you to try very hard."

Joji nodded. His body started to relax where it was pressed against Akashi's. He seemed relieved to have a rule to follow, even if he didn't understand it. Akashi felt his heart begin to settle in his chest, and he raised his head to look at the others again.

They were still watching him. Midorima sat primly on his futon, the relief in his face mirroring Akashi's own. He gave him a solemn nod. Takao was still sprawled all over the floor, but he gave Akashi a sunny grin and a thumb's up.

One issue down. About a million to go. But at least they were on the right track.

Riko did not shop for enjoyment. It was not her style to wander the aisles just to see what was there, to try on ten pairs of jeans with the intention of buying none. Shopping was not a hobby or pastime for her. It was a mission. Whether she made a list for groceries or went into a convenience store with only two things to buy, she kept her mind focused on what she needed. And only what she needed. Finding the correct item for a good price brought her the same sort of satisfaction that she imagined a caveman must have felt while dragging home something he had beaten to death with a club.

In this, as in many other things, Momoi was her complete opposite. After only five minutes in the children's section, it was clear that Momoi was a...a browser. And she kept wanting Riko's opinion on things. Like whether she thought Joji would like this or that shade of blue, or whether they should buy these socks with anime characters, and which show to choose. They should get him a coat, obviously, because it was chilly out and Akashi wanted to take Joji to visit Kagami in the hospital, and of course that meant a cap and mittens, too, even though snow was nowhere in the forecast, but what about a scarf, Riko? Do you think we should get him a scarf, too? Oh, this one is so cute, of course we have to get it!

It was tiring. Riko wasn't against the idea of trying to find items that Joji would like. He had had a horrible time of it, and he deserved to have people fussing over him and trying to please him, even in such a small thing as buying shirts with patterns he would enjoy. But it was frustrating trying to hunt down the correct items without knowing exactly what she was looking for, and Riko had long ago come to the conclusion that Joji would not care about half of these decisions. He was a little kid. Seven years old, Riko was pretty sure, no older than eight at the most. And he was a boy. In Riko's experience, boys didn't usually care that much.

But try telling that to Momoi. She cared. And therefore Riko was supposed to care, too, because Momoi had asked her along to help. Never mind that all Riko could really offer was which size to buy and a reminder of the quantities Akashi had suggested. Momoi needed no help remembering what, exactly, was needed. And she kept adding things to the list.

In the end, Momoi made practically all of the choices. She would hem and haw between two different shirts for about thirty seconds, then place one in the basket with a pleased little hum. Riko almost didn't want to ask, but eventually the curiosity got to be too much for her. "Why did you pick that one?" she asked after Momoi had picked the light-up sneakers with red laces. "What makes you think Joji-chan would prefer that pair over the others you were looking at?"

Momoi, of course, just gave her a mysterious smile. "Women's intuition."

Which was bullshit. Riko was a woman, too, and she didn't get it. She told Momoi so in no uncertain terms. Momoi just laughed.

Once they had purchased all of the clothing items, Momoi stood at the register for a moment, perplexed. There...there were quite a few bags. "We should have brought along one of the boys to carry things for us," she said, a finger pressed to her bottom lip in thought. "Ki-chan would have been happy to skip school and go shopping with us."

Riko's eyebrow twitched. "Maybe you should have just brought him along and left me out of it."

Momoi turned a bright smile on her. "Oh, no, Riko-chan! This was very important female bonding time. I wouldn't dream of leaving you out." Then she frowned at the bags again. "I suppose I could just have them delivered to Akashi-kun's apartment. We still need to go to the toy store."

Riko gaped at her. "How many things do you plan to buy at the toy store?" Akashi hadn't mentioned anything about toys, not that she remembered. She had been considering taking the bags to the apartment herself and leaving Momoi to her own devices, but now she didn't dare. Momoi might buy every single thing in the place and max out Akashi's credit card. Not that that was probably possible, but still.

"Just a few." Momoi ticked on her fingers. "I was thinking... A few coloring books, at least. Joji-chan will need something to do if we have to wait at the hospital to see Tetsu-kun and Kagamin. And I know that Joji-chan's living arrangements still need to be decided, but it hardly seems fair to spend all this money on a little boy and only buy clothes for him. Midorin and Takao-kun took him from his home with nothing, nothing at all. And I know they didn't have a choice, but still... At least Tetsu-kun had time to pack a bag when Kagamin took him away from his awful father."

Momoi started to look a little wibbly, and Riko was feeling it, too. Momoi shook her head, though, and went on. "Wherever Joji-chan ends up going, whether he stays at Akashi-kun's apartment for a few more days or is able to go home with Takao-kun, or even if he has to go to an orphanage for a time while Akashi-kun works everything out, we should at least be able to send him off with a few things of his own. Like...a nightlight. At least a nightlight. Don't you think?"

Riko sighed, slumping where she stood. The reminder of poor Tetsu two years ago had pushed her out of her irritation and straight into something a lot more sentimental and...feminine, she supposed. Momoi seemed to bring it out of her, sometimes. Probably because Momoi also brought out Riko's competitive spirit, and Momoi was the most feminine girl Riko had ever met.

"No, you're right. At least a nightlight. And coloring books are a very good idea, I agree. And...a teddy bear."

Momoi lit up like a firecracker and clapped her hands. "Yes! Oh, yes! The softest, cutest teddy bear we can find! You're a genius, Riko-chan. I'm so glad you came with me today."

In the end, they did have the new clothes delivered to Akashi's apartment. Riko's middle-class sensibilities almost rebelled at the idea of hiring someone else to do what she could have easily done herself, but Momoi seemed accustomed to the advantages of using Akashi's money. Then they went to the toy store and found a very beautiful teddy bear, as well as a nightlight, coloring books, and several other items that Momoi thought of along the way and Riko agreed were necessary for any little boy.

At some point Akashi texted them and asked them to get a tablet for him, too. So they stopped by an electronics store as well and picked out a kid-safe version built for durability. They also, after another quick text from Akashi, bought a Nintendo 3DS and several games.

Outside the store, Riko paused on the sidewalk and looked down at the bag she was carrying. It represented more money than her family spent on household expenses in an entire month. "This is going to overwhelm him."

She remembered the child they had briefly looked in on when they stopped by Akashi's apartment for the credit card. Joji had been small, and withdrawn, and very timid, tucked into a corner of the sofa with a pillow clutched against his stomach. His face was blotchy as if he'd been crying, but his eyes were dry. Takao was sitting next to him, being determinedly cheerful, and when Riko and Momoi appeared at the doorway, Joji had started to lean toward him. As if he wanted to hide behind him.

Riko and Momoi were both observant enough and wise enough not to try to approach him. Not yet. So they just waved and smiled and called that they were happy to meet him. Joji leaned even further toward Takao, almost tipping over. Takao patted his shoulder encouragingly and called them "very dear friends of ours," and then Joji had dared to nod back to them and softly say that he was happy to meet them, too.

And that was it. That had been the extent of their interaction with the poor child. How Momoi had based a decision of light-up sneakers with red laces on that brief moment was beyond Riko's understanding. But it had been more than enough for Riko to know that this was going to be too much. They knew from Akashi that just last night little Joji had been hopelessly grateful for just a borrowed jacket. He wasn't going to know what to do with three quarters of things they'd bought for him.

Momoi paused, too, staring sadly down at the bag of toys she was carrying. "Akashi-kun can be rather too...direct in his attempt to fix things," she admitted. "He sees a child who has many problems, one of which is a lack of material possessions. That's a problem that Akashi can solve, so he chooses to do so. But I'm sure he also aware of the other things that Joji-chan needs help with. We can't heal Joji-chan's heart. Not all at once. But we can do everything possible to make sure that he will never be cold and hungry again."

Riko's hands tightened around the flimsy plastic handles of the bag. "Right."

Momoi smiled. "I'll warn the boys to take it slow. We'll start with just a clean outfit and the coloring books."

"And the teddy bear."

"Of course. The teddy bear."

It would have to do. They returned to Akashi's apartment with hearts as light as they could possibly be, considering the circumstances. On the train, they swayed next to each other, holding onto the grip handles with one hand, clutching their bags with the other. The train was quiet, so Riko almost startled when Momoi spoke, soft and wistful.

"I hope we'll get to see Kagamin today."

They were going to go to the hospital in any case. Himuro had texted everyone to let them know the current situation before he and Murasakibara went back to the Kagami home to rest. Kagami was currently sedated, which meant there was no rush for them to be there. Probably.

But it itched at Riko that she hadn't even tried to visit yesterday, even though she knew her presence might not have been welcome. The entire Seirin team felt the same. They were all going to visit this afternoon after school. Whether or not they got a little practice in before coming was entirely up to them. Riko wasn't going to go over and coach them. She planned to be sitting in the waiting room at the hospital, ready for any chance that presented itself. The graduated Seirin senpai who were going to university or pursuing careers in Tokyo were going to be there too.

Momoi didn't seem to be expecting a response, but Riko nodded. "That idiot needs all the help he can get."

Momoi sighed. "Tetsu-kun must be so upset right now. I texted him a couple of times, but he didn't respond. I didn't expect him to. But...I can't help worrying."

"I'm sure he's fine," Riko said, though she had worried off and on about him, too. "His dad is with him now. And Aomine-kun too, right?"

Momoi sniffed. "Dai-chan is an even worse idiot than Kagamin."

Riko could not dispute this. She went on, doggedly. "And he has all of us, whenever he needs. All he has to do is ask."

"But he doesn't ask." Momoi's voice rose a little at the end. "That's the problem."

Riko ground her teeth, but refrained from snapping at her. Momoi was just worried about the boy she was in love with. She couldn't help it. "Then we'll just have to figure out what he needs and make sure he gets it, even if he doesn't ask." Kagami was good at that. But Kagami wasn't available right now, and that left it to them.

Momoi settled down, her eyes falling to the bags again. "Just like Joji-chan."

"Yeah. Just like Joji-chan."

And it was awful. It was terrible. Riko never, ever wanted to be grateful for the horrible things Tetsu had suffered in his life. But at least because of that, and because of all the work everyone in Seirin had done in order become a support system for him, Riko knew a little better what to expect with poor little Joji now. It didn't justify what had happened to Tetsu. It didn't give it meaning. But at least...at least some tiny speck of good was coming out of all that, even so.

Sometimes, Riko supposed, that was all you could ask for.

"What did your contact with the police say?"

Tetsu and Akashi were tucked into a dim corner of the hospital hallway, talking in hushed voices. It wasn't really necessary—they weren't discussing deadly secrets. But Taiga was still asleep across the hall, and somehow Tetsu couldn't bring himself to raise his voice above a gentle hum. Akashi matched him, as he often did.

Akashi frowned. "I called in the tip last night, when Midorima and Takao first came to the apartment. That was suspicion enough, I thought, to at least bring her in for questioning. But the police didn't act until this morning. By that time, she was already gone. They're investigating the house as a potential crime scene, but who knows how much evidence she destroyed before she left."

Tetsu felt his right hand clench into a fist as sudden anger flooded his chest and overwhelmed him. Why hadn't the police acted last night? Why hadn't they taken Akashi's request more seriously? If they had gotten there in time, they could have...

Akashi sighed. He looked suddenly weary, far more weary than Tetsu could remember seeing him in recent memory. "It was only a tip, only a suspicion," he said carefully. "They must receive many such for all of their open investigations. By the time we had more solid evidence, from Kagami's lips..."

By then it was too late. Tetsu understood it, but the understanding did not relieve his anger. He wondered if this was how Taiga felt when something reminded him of the bad time two years ago, when he suddenly went quiet and distant, staring away with his teeth clenched together and his eyes hard and bright.

"She could be anywhere by now," Tetsu said.

"She could." Akashi paused for a moment. "I'll double the guard."

Strangely, this was exactly what Tetsu needed to hear. He relaxed all at once, his hand falling loose to his side. If Tetsu was feeling paranoid and wary, Akashi must be feeling it ten times more strongly. It would do no good for Tetsu to wind Akashi up even more with his own useless feelings.

"We still have no reason to believe that she will come after Taiga-nii," Tetsu said, though he was trying to convince himself as much as he was Akashi. "Even though we know now that it was a deliberate attack, not a random act of violence... She seems to have gotten what she wanted."

Akashi's mouth pressed into a grim line. "We still don't know enough details. I suspect...as I'm sure you do, too...that Kagami was in the act of removing Joji-chan from his dreadful home when she ambushed him, then stabbed him while he was down. So she got what she wanted in that moment. She got her son back. But now Joji-chan has been taken from her again." His nostrils flared. His eye sparked gold. "Permanently." The word was a low growl, hard and menacing. Akashi meant that statement with everything he had in him.

And Akashi had a lot.

Tetsu felt himself tensing again. He didn't need it explained to him why she might want her child back, even after treating him so cruelly. Tetsu's father had been the same way. The mingled forces of love and disgust, the desire for dominance and the pleasure of power, possessiveness, jealousy, with the occasional flash of genuine affection... Tetsu understood it well. As well as anyone could.

He also despised Akashi's description of the event, accurate as it was. She had ambushed Taiga, then stabbed him while he was down. As far as Tetsu was concerned, only a demon could do such a thing to his Taiga-nii.

"No..." he said slowly, forcing the words out. "I suppose you're right."

It was Akashi's turn to try to relieve the tension. He smiled, weary and tinged with sadness, but still genuine. "We need to focus on what we can do now, not problems that have no solution. For instance, there is a little boy in the waiting room who would very much like to meet the famous Phantom Man of Seirin."

"Really?" Tetsu couldn't help himself. He leaned away from the wall where he and Akashi had sequestered themselves and peeked into the lounge next door. Little Joji was almost invisible, tucked into a sofa with his back to Tetsu, Takao on one side and Midorima on the other like some kind of severely mismatched honor guard. All Tetsu could see of Joji was the top of his head. Coach Riko was also there, sitting in a chair across from the three with her hands clasping her knees as if to hold them still, and a stranger sat back in a corner away from the group.

Tetsu leaned back to face Akashi and raised his eyebrows. "He knows who I am?"

Akashi smiled. "We've been looking at photos and watching game footage. And telling stories. He knows that you are Kagami's brother and that the nice dog he met the other night belongs to you. He hasn't said so in words. He isn't truly able to express his feelings yet. But I know he wants to meet you."

Tetsu peeked again. "I want to meet him too." Sudden emotion rose in his throat and almost choked him. This little boy... He had been there when Taiga got hurt. He knew what had happened. More than that, how must it have affected him to witness such a thing? His mother, loved and honored despite the way she treated him, attacking and wounding a person who was kind to him, who wanted to rescue him...

Tetsu shuddered. If Taiga had been hurt that awful, awful night, the last time Tetsu had set foot in his father's apartment, he never would have been able to forgive himself. Never.

But he stood there, unable to move. He was suddenly frozen with doubt. What could he possibly offer to this little boy? They had some common experiences, but everyone was different, and Tetsu hadn't even finished figuring out how to deal with what had happened to him, let alone how to help anyone else with their troubles. How would he know what to say? What could he say at all? Surely anything he could try would be inadequate, imperfect, unworthy of the task at hand.

Suddenly, he had a lot more sympathy for Taiga's early doubts on this subject, too.

While he stood there, struggling to overcome inertia, Midorima bent over and said something to Joji. Then he rose to his feet, slow and deliberate, and came over to the door where Tetsu and Akashi stood, watching. Midorima's face was serious, his mouth set in a grim line, but there was a softness around his eyes that Tetsu blinked to see. It was clear that Joji was a powerful child, little as he knew it, to gain such a staunch ally in such a short time.

"I'm going to go to school for a few hours," Midorima said. "I've neglected my studies long enough. There's nothing more I can do here, so my time will be better utilized there."

Tetsu blinked at him. "Won't Joji-chan miss you?"

Midorima grimaced. "He'll have Takao. I doubt that idiot will move from his side until someone forces him to. I'll be back later."

Tetsu opened his mouth again, then closed it. Midorima could make his own choices. But he looked at the back of Joji's head and wondered if he would be okay.

Midorima cleared his throat, and Tetsu looked back to him. Midorima gave him a nod. "You should sit with him."

Tetsu looked at Joji again. "But I..."

"Just go." Midorima placed a large, strong hand on his shoulder and gently—but inexorably—shoved him into the lounge. "You'll figure it out. I have faith in you."

Tetsu looked back over his shoulder at Akashi and Midorima. They were both doing their best to give him encouraging looks, something neither of them was particularly skilled at. But he appreciated the effort. Tetsu looked forward. Then he pulled in a breath, squared his shoulders, and walked over to the sofa.

Takao greeted him cheerfully, of course. "Hello, Tetsu-chan!" He even waved at him. He nudged Joji's shoulder and gestured at Tetsu. "Hey, Joji-chan, he's here! This is Taiga-nii's little brother."

Joji looked up at him with huge eyes, still and silent, as if he was meeting a celebrity. He was clutching a large, lovely teddy bear with silky brown fur in both arms, holding onto it as if it was his only rock in a shifting sea. He seemed incapable of speech.

Tetsu tried to smile, but he was pretty sure it didn't come out very well. "H...Hello, Joji-chan," he said. "My name is Tetsu. I'm very pleased to meet you. Is it okay if I sit here? Beside you?"

Joji's eyes somehow got even bigger. He nodded vigorously, his chin brushing the top of his teddy bear's head, then scooted closer to Takao to make room. Takao put an arm around his shoulders. Tetsu perched on the sofa, sitting stiffly with his back straight and his hands on his knees. He unconsciously mirrored Coach Riko across from them, who was watching them with gentle eyes. He couldn't believe how nervous he was. It didn't make sense.

Of course, if Tetsu was nervous, Joji had it just as bad, if not worse. They really were a pair. Taiga would laugh if he saw them. And then he would grin, warm and soft and affectionate, and he would squeeze Tetsu around the shoulders and scoop Joji up in his arms so he could cuddle him close, and he would tease them both for being nervous when they didn't need to be and just...it would be so good...

Sadness pricked his heart, as strong as grief. Taiga was going to be fine, he was, he was, there was no doubt, no other option. But right now, he wasn't here, and Tetsu missed him. He missed him. Taiga was just down the hall, but it could have been a hundred kilometers. It could have been an ocean.

So Taiga wasn't here. Tetsu pressed a hand to stomach, trying to force it all down. Tetsu was here instead. He had to do his best. It was all he could do.

He looked at Joji, and he gave him a smile. It felt a lot better this time, a lot more genuine and sincere. "That's a nice teddy bear you have there. Do you like it?"

Joji nodded, then lowered his eyes, unwilling to look in Tetsu's face. For some reason he seemed to feel guilty. "Riko-san gave it to me."

Tetsu gave her a smile, too, then turned his attention back to Joji. "Coach Riko is a good friend to me and Taiga-nii."

Joji glanced up at him, sparked by the mention of Taiga's name, then looked away again. "Taiga-nii was very kind," he whispered.

"Yes, I heard you met him the other night. I'm glad he was good to you." He smiled crookedly. "Not that I would expect anything different. Taiga-nii is the kindest person I know."

Joji nodded and stared down at the teddy, running his fingers through the long, silky hair.

The conversation seemed to have petered out, and Tetsu was perplexed as to how to continue. He looked around as if for help, but Riko and Takao were just watching him expectantly. A glance over his shoulder revealed that Midorima and Akashi had already gone about their business. And of course the stranger in the corner did nothing at all, though he seemed to be listening to them. Probably because he was bored.

Then Tetsu's eyes fell on the knee-high table in front of them. Several coloring books were laid out there, as well as a large package of crayons. One of the books was open and several crayons had been pulled out, but nothing had been done on the pictures—zoo animals, Tetsu saw. Takao or one of the others had probably offered this activity to Joji while they were waiting, but he must have been too nervous and tense to begin.

Tetsu pointed to the books and tried to meet Joji's eyes. "Those books are yours, right? Would it be okay if I colored?"

Joji snapped up to stare at him. He nodded, slow and astonished, his mouth hanging open.

"Thank you." Tetsu slid down to the floor and sat cross-legged at the table, then began flipping through another coloring book. This was Disney, lots of familiar characters gracing the pages in empty outlines. He looked back over his shoulder and gave Joji a shy smile. "I'd love it if you would join me."

Joji looked up at Takao as if for permission. Takao just grinned and nudged his shoulder, nodding indulgently. After a moment of indecision, fingers clutching into his teddy bear's fur as he struggled, Joji pushed himself forward off the sofa and joined Tetsu on the floor. He still held the teddy in his lap, but slowly, slowly, he let go with one hand and reached out for the open book of zoo animals.

"I think I'm going to color this one." Tetsu left his book open to an illustration of Tarzan and Jane. It brought back a lot of fond memories that he tried not to think too hard about, lest he burst into tears. He reached over to Joji's side of the table to open the box of crayons, then selected a bright yellow one. "Which one are you going to do?"

Joji had paused on a picture of an elephant. He looked over at Tetsu's book, then back to his own. Tetsu grinned. "Cool! There are elephants in the movie I'm coloring, too. Have you ever seen Disney's Tarzan?"

Joji shook his head. So Tetsu started to tell him. "It's about a little baby boy who lost his family, and he ended up far, far away from home, from anyone he knew and anyone who knew him. He was in danger, and it seemed like very, very bad things were going to happen to him, but then something amazing happened and he was rescued at the last moment..."

He kept going. He didn't care about spoilers, and he doubted Joji did, either. Later, maybe, they would get a chance to watch it together. But for now they sat there on the floor, coloring, and Tetsu told the story of a lost little boy who had nothing, but ended up with a huge family all of his own.

Taiga opened his eyes with the feeling that a vast amount of time had passed since the last time he saw daylight. It was disorienting and made him feel like he had been set adrift in a wide sea with no landmarks, a sensation that caused his heart beat sluggishly, trying to speed up but unable to. The light was very different than the last time he'd seen it, angling deeply across the room, and his head was swimming. He couldn't remember any dreams, either. It was as if he had passed through a large, dark room with no recollection of what had been in there and how he'd made it through.

"Taiga?"

Dad. Taiga turned his head and squinted blearily at him. His eyes felt gritty, and he wanted to raise a hand to rub them, but he didn't have the strength. Dad smiled.

"You've been sleeping for a long time."

Taiga opened his mouth. His throat felt scratchy and parched, too. "They gave me medicine."

"You remember." Taiga felt Dad's hand around his. It must have been there all along. "That's a good sign."

Taiga blinked. He had a feeling like he wanted to be angry about being sedated, about having his will taken away without his consent, but he was still too fuzzy-headed to rouse up any real emotion. "I remember everything."

Dad's smile turned sad. "Yes. I know." He let go of Taiga's hand and turned away for a moment, then came back with a glass of water. His other hand found the button to raise the bed so Taiga was reclining instead of lying flat. "Here, drink. You'll feel better."

Dad held the glass for him. The water tasted good. Taiga couldn't remember the last time something had tasted this good to him. But there was an odd feeling as it trickled down his throat, into his gut. He was fully aware, now, of just how messed up his body was. She had stabbed him four times. He remembered that, remembered each rise and fall of the knife as it plunged into him, remembered how much it had hurt...

He pulled away from the water with a gasp, then let his head fall back against the pillow and stared up at the ceiling. His fingers clenched in the sheets, over and over, until Dad's hand covered his again. "More bad dreams, Taiga?"

Taiga shook his head. "Memories."

"I see."

Dad's voice was sad. So, so sad.

Taiga turned his head and tried to focus on him again. "I want to see Tetsu-chan." He was aware of another presence in the room, so he knew they weren't alone, but even in his vague and disoriented state, he knew it wasn't his brother. And he wanted his brother. Very badly.

Dad patted his hand. "I'll get him for you. And...we have a surprise for you. I think it will cheer you up." He rose gently to his feet. "Ao-chan?"

The other person in the room grunted in acknowledgment. Taiga's eyes tracked his father as he moved around the bed and out the door, then turned back to the other person, who was now sitting in Dad's chair. It was Aomine. Taiga blinked at him.

Aomine attempted one of his trademark crooked grins, so smug and infuriating. They never failed to rile Taiga up, make him ready to fight, whether with words or basketball. But it didn't look quite right, this time, and Taiga couldn't muster up any annoyance. Aomine was Tetsu's friend. And somehow, over the years, he had become Taiga's friend, too.

Instead of being annoyed by Aomine's presence, Taiga might actually be finding it kind of...soothing. What a weird thought.

Taiga's shoulders relaxed against the bed, his head falling limp as he stared at his annoying, smug, infuriating friend. "Aomine. What are you doing here?" There was no heat in the words, no challenge. Just a muted sort of curiosity.

"Well, watching you sleep, mostly." Aomine's voice was full of humor. "You should try to be more interesting. It's been a really boring day."

Taiga blinked at him. "You've been watching me sleep?" Under ordinary circumstances this would creep him out, he knew, but at the moment it was just strange. "Why the heck would you waste your time doing something like that, you pervert?" Even the insult was perfunctory.

Aomine chuckled, low and soft. "I don't know if you noticed this, but you're in the hospital. It would be just like Bakagami not to realize such a glaring difference in his environment."

Taiga narrowed his eyes. "You're saying it's normal for you to watch me sleep when I'm in the hospital?"

"Well, yeah, idiot. I wouldn't watch you sleep if you were at home."

This entire conversation was making less and less sense to Taiga. And it had never made a whole lot of sense to begin with. "You're still a pervert."

"I never disputed that." Aomine grinned and reached out to poke Taiga's arm with one finger. "So is it true? You didn't realize that you were in a hospital?"

Taiga attempted a growl. "Of course I noticed I was in the hospital. I noticed, I..." He blinked again. Sudden clarity seemed to flood in like a crash of waves, cold and bright, darkly illuminating. His eyes widened, and his hands clenched in the sheets again. "I...I got stabbed... I got stabbed... I..." His breath was speeding up, too, and his heart. "Aomine..."

"Oi! Oi, now, hold on." Aomine lurched to his feet and leaned over the bed. His hands landed on Taiga's shoulders, strong and heavy, pinning him down. "Don't freak out, Kagami. The last time you freaked out they gave you a whole bunch of medicine to make you sleep. I know you didn't like it. I could see that in your eyes when you woke up. So don't freak out again. You've done enough sleeping."

Taiga stared up at him, his chest heaving. He laughed, soft and breathless, his chest and his abdomen jerking so that sharp needles of pain stabbed through him. Tears trickled from the corners of his eyes, down into the pillow. "You...you pervert... You're trying to comfort me..."

"Yeah." Aomine squeezed his shoulders. "Yeah, idiot, I'm trying to comfort you." His eyes were wide, showing white all around the dark blue irises. "I don't want you to freak out again. It was scary. It was painful for Tetsu and your dad. And for me. But most of all for you. So don't do it again, okay? Don't freak out."

"I can't believe this..." But he was calming down, somehow, his breath slowing, his heartbeat settling in his ears. The pounding in his head began to subside. "Can't believe I got stabbed... Can't believe I'm in the hospital... Can't believe pervert Aomine is trying to comfort me..."

"Yeah." Aomine's eyes softened. His hands lightened their grip on Taiga's shoulders, just a little. "Is it working?"

"I can't believe I got stabbed..." Taiga raised a shaky hand and scrubbed at his face. "What kind of idiot goes out for a night run and gets himself stabbed?"

"Hey." Aomine's voice was weirdly serious. Taiga opened his eyes and looked up at him again. Aomine's face was solemn now, still bent close over Taiga's. "Don't do that to yourself. You were trying to help a little kid. We all know that now. It wasn't idiotic. It was kind and brave. Don't put yourself down."

"O...okay..." Taiga closed his eyes, squeezing out the last of the tears, then looked up at Aomine again. "Okay. Thanks."

Aomine watched him closely for a moment longer, making sure, then gave his shoulders one last squeeze and sat back in the chair. Taiga was grateful when the weight holding him down disappeared, but for one dizzying moment, he missed it, too. He almost felt like he might float away, the removal was so sudden. Then the world settled around him again, and he blinked at the opposite wall and was still.

A noise at the door had Aomine raising his head to see who it was. A smile spread across his face, slow and wide, and he met Taiga's eyes again. "They're here."

Taiga turned his head to look toward the door in time to see Dad and Tetsu coming in. Which was great and exactly what he wanted to see. But coming after them, moving a little more slowly, was...Takao? Seriously? Taiga gaped at him, then looked questioningly to his brother and dad.

Dad smiled and moved over to stand by the head of the bed. "I told you we had a surprise." Taiga raised his eyebrows.

Meanwhile, Tetsu was waiting against the wall, looking back at the door, and Takao was still inching his way slowly into the room. Taiga went back to staring at him mutely, and he finally noticed a detail that had escaped his notice at first. There was a little hand wrapped around Takao's waist, clutching at his shirt. As he watched, Takao patted the tiny white fingers, which seemed attached to him like a vice, and pushed a little farther into the room.

"C'mon, kiddo, it's okay. Taiga-nii is waiting for you."

Taiga mouthed the name, astonished. Taiga-nii? Okay, so sometimes when you were talking to little kids you used the wrong names to be sure that they understood who you were referring to. Takao had obviously fallen into that tradition. But who in the world, besides Tetsu, had ever called him Taiga-nii?

All of sudden, Taiga got it. He tried to bolt upright, then fell back with a muffled gasp when the effort tore at his gut. Dad grabbed his shoulder, looking at him in concern, but Taiga only had eyes for Takao and the little boy hiding behind him. He craned his head, trying to see him, trying to see...

"Joji-chan?" Taiga's voice was a dry croak. It amazed him that he was audible at all.

But Takao went still, and the little fingers clenched even tighter, white and red with the strength of their grip. Takao looked over his shoulder, reaching behind himself with one hand. "See, I told you. He really wants to see you."

Taiga nodded frantically, even though the child was still invisible, hidden behind Takao's back. "I really, really do. Please, Joji-chan, is that you? Please come out. I really want to see you." He knew he sounded pathetic, but he really, really didn't care.

The boy was still for a moment longer. Then finally, little by little, he leaned out from around Takao's back, daring to peer into the room. The moment the little face became visible, Taiga let out a breath in relief, almost dizzy with the release of fear from his body. He studied Joji's face avidly, eyes darting back and forth. No new bruises, not that he could see, but that didn't mean...

Finally, Joji stood on the floor beside Takao, still clutching his shirt with one hand. Takao held his shoulder in a warm, reassuring grip. Joji stared at Taiga, still frozen in uncertainty, seemingly unable to look away.

"Joji-chan." Taiga held out his arms. "Joji-chan, please, would you come here? Please come here? If I could I would jump up and meet you there, but I can't, so please..."

Something broke. Joji's little face crumpled up, and he let go of Takao's shirt and scrambled forward, his arms reaching out in return. Taiga caught his breath on a sob. Dad scooped up the little boy when he got close enough and set him kneeling on the bed at Taiga's side. Joji fell forward, and then little arms were wrapped around Taiga's neck, holding tight, and Taiga's arms were around Joji in return.

"I was so worried," he murmured. "I was so worried about you, Joji-chan, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I wanted to get you away and I failed, and I was so worried..."

All of that fear, all of that terror, and it hadn't really been about Tetsu at all, it had been about this little boy. And Taiga was ashamed of himself, ashamed that he could have forgotten him, this poor, neglected little child, forgotten by everyone, by his family, by society, by every adult who should have seen and halted the terrible things that were happening to him, and then somehow forgotten by Taiga, too...

Joji's tear-wet face pressed against Taiga's, and he shook his head, hard and frantic. "I'm okay, I'm okay, I was worried about you, but I couldn't ask anyone, I wasn't supposed to talk about it, so I couldn't ask, and Seijurou-kun said I should come see you, but I didn't know what that meant, I thought...I thought you might be dead..."

Someone gasped in horror. It might have been Takao. It didn't matter. Joji was alive, and he was safe, and his little body was warm and shivering and here in Taiga's arms, and that was all that mattered. Somehow Joji had misunderstood when they told him that Taiga was in the hospital, somehow he had taken that to mean...

It didn't matter. All was mended now. They were both safe, both surrounded by dozens of people who wanted to protect them and take care of them and help them heal from their hurts. For a moment, all of Taiga's fear and uncertainty and pain floated away in bliss, just to have Joji-chan safe here with him. Everything was going to be okay. Tetsu had been saying it all along, and Aniki, and Dad, and even Aomine. But now, at last, here and now, Taiga could start to believe it.

Everything was going to be okay. Joji was safe, Taiga was safe, his family was with him, and everything was going to be fine.

Takao was trying very hard not to be angry at himself.

He knew it was useless. He was sitting in the recliner at Kagami's bedside, now, Joji cuddled up in his lap with his head resting comfortably on Takao's shoulder. Joji was looking to Kagami, who kept looking over to smile at him. At Takao, too. Kagami seemed almost unbearably happy, all told.

Most of the members of the Seirin basketball team (as well as several graduated seniors, like Hyuuga, Kiyoshi, and Coach Riko) were crowded into the room, now, chattering cheerfully, all relieved and glad to see Kagami looking so much like himself. Someone had dragged in a few extra chairs, and Tetsu was sitting, too, while Hiroshi stood by Kagami's head and played the gracious host, as ever. In normal circumstances Takao would be glad for the company, for the talk. He loved crowds, loved parties, and even though this was a hospital room for an injured young man who was still in a great deal of danger, medically, this felt quite a bit like a party.

But for once in his life, Takao was not in the mood. He dug his fingernail into the arm of the chair he was sitting in and scraped it back and forth, his other arm wrapped comfortably around Joji's torso. This was his first taste of what Shin-chan had warned him about, and he found it bitter on his tongue and hard in his belly.

Joji had thought Taiga might be dead. Dead. And somehow none of them had figured that out and relieved him of his fear. Takao wanted to tear at his hair. He couldn't help looking back at the last twenty-four hours, every tiny interaction he and Shin-chan and Akashi had had with Joji, searching for clues that would have alerted them to this situation. He didn't find any.

But hadn't they told him? Takao couldn't remember the exact words they had used, but he knew they had told Joji that Taiga-nii was in the hospital, that his family was with him, that he would want to see Joji and make sure he was okay. Wasn’t that enough?

They hadn't told Joji about Kagami's loss of memory, about the emergency surgery, about how he had to be sedated when his memories came back and threw his system into haywire. So they hadn't shared many details with Joji. Or any at all. But surely they had told him that Taiga was okay, hadn't they? Hadn't they told him that he was alive, that he was going to get better? That the doctors and nurses and his brother and father and friends were all taking good care of him?

Maybe they hadn't. Takao couldn't remember for sure. And that was the most frustrating thing of all.

He was going to have to get better at this. At keeping track of what he and others said to Joji and it how it might affect him. He was going to need to start seeing beyond the immediate moment. He was going to have to start looking.

His heart felt heavy in his chest. This was going to be hard. It was going to be a lot of work.

Shin-chan had warned him. He had spent several minutes carefully detailing for Takao exactly how difficult this path he had chosen would be. You will blame yourself for things that are not your fault, he'd said.

Takao had listened, but he hadn't really believed him. He realized that now. It had just seemed...too preposterous. Takao had always had a firm grasp of himself and his abilities, and he'd always been able to sort out what was in his power to control and what was not, then act accordingly.

A lot of things had changed when Takao first heard that sad little sniffle late on a Tuesday night in a cold, dark neighborhood. He'd had no clue at the time. He was only starting to figure it out now.

He knew it wasn't his fault. He and Joji had had a little whispered conversation, back when Kagami and Joji finally let go of each other. Joji had leaned back and seen the pain on Kagami's face, even though the idiot obviously wanted to keep cuddling his little friend. Joji had solemnly climbed down from the bed, then moved over to Takao, who scooped him up without a word. Kagami had grinned at them, still happy, so happy, and Joji wrapped his arms around Takao's neck and smiled back, too.

Then a couple of Seirin first-years had started clamoring at the door, demanding their turn, and Takao had retreated to this chair. While Kagami was distracted, he leaned down to Joji and apologized. "I'm so sorry, Joji-chan. I didn't know you thought Taiga-nii might be dead. If I had known that, I would have made sure you knew he was okay."

Joji shook his head and dared to look up at Takao, his face flushing. "No, it's my fault. I knew I should ask, but I was too scared. Mama told me that hospitals are where people go to die, so I've always been scared..."

He shifted uncomfortably, his bony elbow digging into Takao's stomach. Takao's arm tightened around him. "Your mama told you not to talk about it. About Taiga-nii getting hurt."

Joji nodded, his face drawn in misery, and clasped his hands over his stomach in what was starting to be a familiar gesture. "Seijurou-kun told me Mama has bad rules, and I think that might be one of them, but I...I'm still..."

"Shh, it's okay." Takao raised a hand to Joji's head and gently urged him to lay on his shoulder. "You don't have to figure it all out right away. I know everything is new and scary for you right now, and being in a hospital like this must be making you nervous. You can rest. Just be happy that Taiga-nii is alive and is going to be okay, like the rest of us are. See? That's his team. They all play basketball with him, and they're really happy to see him. We can just be happy, too."

Joji nodded, then went limp against him, as if he'd just been waiting for permission. Even his hands loosened from their tight clasp, sliding down into his lap. He blew out a breath and was quiet, though Takao felt remnants of tension in his body, probably because they were still in a place his horrible mother had taught him to fear.

It wasn't Joji's fault. It wasn't Takao's fault, either. It all went back to that woman, to the controls and programming she had forced into her little boy. Teaching him to fear the police, to fear hospitals... It was obvious why she had done it. She had probably taught him to fear teachers and priests and every other adult who could have realized what was happening to him and put a stop to it, too.

But the understanding somehow failed to make Takao feel any better.

It made him chafe inwardly, even while he did everything he could to gentle his outward presence to cradle the child in his arms. Shin-chan had warned him. He'd warned him, and Takao hadn't taken it seriously. He hadn't understood. Even now, he couldn't make himself stomach it, couldn't make himself swallow this pill. You will blame yourself for things that are not your fault. For once, Shin-chan was the prophet. And he was far more accurate than Oha Asa had ever been.

Now, the chatter of the Seirin team washed over Takao. He closed his eyes for a moment, as if he was relaxing in a bath. Let it surround him, let it drown out everything else. People were happy. Kagami Taiga had been hurt, but he was safe, and he was going to be okay. Let that make Takao happy, too.

If only he could follow his own advice.

"Kazu-nii?"

Takao opened his eyes and looked down. Joji had turned his head away from Kagami and was looking up at him, his eyes large and bright. As Takao watched, he even smiled. Takao stared at him, transfixed. Had he seen Joji smile like that before? He didn't think so. He was pretty sure he would have noticed.

Joji's smile didn't fade. "Thank you, Kazu-nii."

Takao blinked. His mind was blank, as if he'd been struck in the face. "For...for what?" At the moment, he couldn't imagine any reason that he would deserve thanks from this child.

Joji looked away, his face turning thoughtful. He was quiet for a moment, then looked back to Takao as if inspiration had struck. And he smiled again. "For lending me your jacket last night."

"Oh." Takao blinked again. Then he brought his other arm around Joji and held him tight and close for a moment, ducking his head to hide his nose in Joji's sweet-smelling hair. "Oh. I forgot about that. It was no problem. I'm glad I did it."

Tears pricked his eyes. He felt a rushing behind his eyes, inside his head, as if a brisk wind was blowing the autumn leaves around. He squeezed his eyes shut and just enjoyed it for a moment, then let go.

"Did it work?" he asked. "Do you feel happy?"

Joji nodded. "Yes, Kazu-nii. I do."

Then it was worth it. All of Takao's fear and bad feelings, his anger at himself, his sudden understanding that he had no idea what he was doing. That the days ahead were going to be difficult and trying, that he was going to feel upset a lot for reasons he could not control, that his life had just become a hundred times more complicated than it was before. It was all worth it.

Because Joji was here, and he was happy. And he was warm, wrapped up in Takao's arm with no hint of a shiver, no fear in his eyes. He was never going to be cold and hungry and alone again. That time was gone. Takao was going to make sure of it, and so would Shin-chan, and Akashi, and everyone else.

Even while Takao sat there, fresh resolve beginning to blossom in his heart, Kagami looked over at them again. He saw them smiling, and he smiled too, his eyes warm even as his face and his posture revealed just how pained and exhausted he was. Takao smiled back, though he couldn't muster his usual cheerful grin. Joji leaned back on Takao's shoulder and gave Kagami a little wave of his hand.

Maybe this was good. Maybe Takao had needed this moment of realization, of understanding, before he truly set off on his new path. He hadn't understood Shin-chan's prophecy before, but now he did. And he still accepted it. Fully. Whole-heartedly. Joji's future happiness was more important than any pain Takao might experience now or in the next few years.

Takao's sight had always been immediate, for the present moment only. Sure, his hawk eye let him see far more than the average person, and he was also able to judge relationships and distances and calculate the best moves to bring his team an advantage. But he'd never been able to see ahead more than a few seconds.

Now, he felt like he stood on a mountaintop, looking down on a landscape that spread out before him on all sides. He could see dark and shadowed areas where trees stood thick and looming, where canyons and valleys tore through the landscape like scars. He saw paths that climbed through steep and rocky hills, sometimes choked and narrow and difficult, and he knew that the journey would be long, and hard, and often thankless.

But he saw other things, too. He saw broad green meadows where flowers grew and honeybees buzzed, gathering their sweetness. He saw sparkling streams, blue and clear in the sunlight, where a weary traveler could dip his toes and relax for a while. He saw friendly villages where he could rest, solitary trees spreading green leaves to provide shade from the heat, a solid stone fence that someone could walk along the top of, whistling joyously with their arms spread for balance.

And beyond it all was a shining city, beautiful and fair. A place where anything was possible, where a newcomer could build a new life, where friends became family and family became friends. A place where dreams came true.

More than anything, Takao wanted to take Joji to that place. He wanted to show him everything that was good in the world. Not just because Joji had had a difficult life so far and it was only fair to make it up to him, but also because it was going to be fun. It was going to be so much fun.

Yes, the journey might be hard and long, and Takao's feet might hurt, his fingers might blister, his heart might be sore and his eyes might be wet with tears. But Joji was going to get see all of those meadows and streams and villages, too, and that beautiful city in the end. And Takao wanted to be there when it happened. He wanted to be along for every single moment of the ride. He wanted to get to see Joji's face when he finally began to understand what life could be like.

It was going to be great.

Takao thought about it, and his smile widened and widened. He felt it in his whole face, his whole heart, felt his eyes wrinkling at the edges. He grinned at Kagami, and he hugged Joji back against his chest, and the chatter of the Seirin team surrounded him but did not touch him. He was somewhere else, somewhere higher and much more beautiful.

Bring it on, he thought. I'm ready for anything.

"Are they all gone?"

Tetsu looked around the room, as if checking to make sure, before he nodded and sat down in the chair by Taiga's bed. He had just gotten back from seeing off Takao and Joji in the hospital lobby. "Yes, I believe so. Dad and Akashi-kun were still discussing something in the hall, but I didn't pay much attention."

Taiga sighed and looked toward the door for a second, then turned his face toward Tetsu again. He seemed...relieved. He had definitely appreciated the company, everyone's kindness and concern and eagerness to see him, but it was obvious that he was still drained and needed a lot more rest. He had looked sad when people started to say their good-byes, but not very sad.

"What's going to happen to Joji-chan?" Taiga asked.

Tetsu smiled. This was one of the things Akashi had been talking about that he had paid attention to, at least for a moment. "He'll be fine. Akashi-kun has very fine lawyers, you know. They've been working hard. And they...ah...they 'discovered' some documents proving that Joji-chan is distantly related to Takao-kun and his family. So they were able to take temporary custody of him with no trouble at all."

Taiga blinked, then grinned, broad and sharp-toothed. "What a surprise."

"Isn't it? Life certainly is interesting, sometimes." Tetsu leaned back into his chair and pressed the back of his hand over his mouth, burying a yawn. He was exhausted, too, though for no good reason. He had spent most the day hanging out in Taiga's hospital room and talking to people. Hardly very strenuous activities.

Tetsu's text alert went off, and he took his phone out of his pocket and looked at it, then set it down on the arm of the chair and returned his attention to Taiga's face. Taiga was watching him carefully.

"That's the alert sound you set up for Shige."

Of course Taiga recognized it. Tetsu shook his head. "It's nothing. Ogiwara-kun was just letting me know that he'll be free tomorrow."

"Does he know what's going on? I don't remember seeing him today."

Tetsu nodded. "Akashi-kun told him at the beginning. We've been texting today. He got trapped doing overtime at his job at the sports store and couldn't get away, but he sends his best."

"Here, lemme see." Taiga waved his hand for the phone. Tetsu hesitated, then placed it in his hand. He had no secrets from his brother.

Taiga maneuvered the phone in his hand with some difficulty. He started to stretch across his other hand to help hold it, then grimaced and changed his mind when the movement tugged at his abdomen. He settled for resting the end of the phone on the mattress and scrolling through with his thumb.

"He wants you to go have a meal with him," Taiga said.

Tetsu rolled his eyes. "He wants to drag me away from the hospital, more like. He says all the tension and bad atmosphere isn't good for me."

"He's right." Taiga got to the bottom of the text program, then started to thumb in a message. Tetsu realized what he was doing too late and lunged out for the phone, but by then Taiga had already hit send.

Tetsu held the phone to his face, gaping at it in dismay. "You told him I would come."

"Yeah." Taiga released a breath and leaned back into the pillow, his eyes starting to droop. "You should get out for a while. I know you slept at Aomine's house last night, but then you were right back here in the morning. You should go to school tomorrow, go to basketball practice, have dinner with Shige."

Tetsu frowned at him. "I don't want to be gone that long."

"I'll be fine." Taiga raised one hand far enough off the bedspread to wave it at him. "I think the worst has passed. Now I just need to...you know...recover. Which is probably going to be long and hard and annoying, but you don't have to be there for every second. Really. You don't."

Tetsu continued to frown at him.

Taiga huffed at him. "I mean it. Dad's here now, and so is Aniki and the entire Generation of Miracles. If no one stops them, they're going to, like, set up a rotating schedule to make sure someone is always at my side to...I don't know. Fetch water for me and fluff my pillow, I guess. Bunch of weirdos."

His voice was grudgingly fond, despite his choice of words. Tetsu's lips began to twitch into a reluctant smile. Well, Taiga wasn't wrong. Tetsu was pretty sure that that was exactly what Akashi and the others were planning to do.

Tetsu watched him. He couldn't help remembering this morning, when and Aomine had first arrived. A little more twelve hours ago, Taiga had been so distraught that the doctors had decided to sedate him, because his mental state was doing him literal, physical harm. And now he was just lying here, telling Tetsu he was 'fine.'

Tetsu was pretty sure it was bullshit.

All right, so Taiga looked a lot better now than he had this morning. He was pale and exhausted, but he didn't look like living death. And he hadn't been bullshitting his overwhelming relief and joy at being reunited with Joji, nor his pleasure in greeting the Seirin team. That had all been clearly, achingly sincere. But this? This here? Bullshit.

Tetsu opened his mouth, then closed it again. He wanted to call him on it. He wanted to tell Taiga that he knew he was lying, that he didn't have to. That Tetsu wanted him to be honest about how bad he was feeling, how much time he still needed.

Something told him, though, that this was the wrong move. Taiga was still looking at him, his expression set and firm, eyebrows raised while he waited for Tetsu's answer. He was trying to be strong. It wasn't just a lie: he wanted it to be true very, very badly. He wanted to be fine so much that he was almost fooling himself, never mind Tetsu.

And Tetsu knew why. Taiga took his role as nii-san extremely seriously. Even when he'd first woken, when he'd been so incoherent that he was barely aware of his surroundings, one of the first concerns that had poured out of him was for Tetsu's safety and well-being. Yes, some of that had been the mish-mash of his memories, how his mind had conflated Tetsu and Joji's situations and made him terrified for them both. But a lot of it was just because... Because Taiga was Taiga-nii.

Taiga was in a vulnerable position. He was trapped and confined, imprisoned by his wounds. In an instant, a horrifying number of things had been taken away from him. His physical strength. His mental fortitude. His ability even to sit up, for pity's sake. And with that loss had come a loss of identity, too, at least temporarily. He couldn't go to school. He couldn't play basketball. He couldn't reach out to someone unless they were in arm's length. So for now, until he recovered, he wasn't a student, he wasn't a basketball player, and he probably didn't think he was much a friend, either.

One of the few roles he had left to him was big brother. Son, too, of course. Little brother. Hospital patient, an unwanted identity if ever there was one. But Taiga had always taken particular delight and care in being a big brother. He wanted to take care of Tetsu. It was immensely important to him.

So Tetsu couldn't take that away. He sighed, his shoulders slumping, and nodded in response to the demanding look on Taiga's face. "All right. I'll go to school and basketball practice, and I'll go to dinner with Ogiwara-kun. I'm sure it will be fun."

Taiga busted out into a big, brilliant grin. "There, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

A smile twitched at Tetsu's lips. It was so, so good to see Taiga smile, despite everything. "No, I guess not."

It wasn't what Tetsu wanted. He wanted Taiga to trust him. He wanted Taiga to lean on him. But he could accept, for now, that Taiga's role as big brother was more important.

Tetsu would do anything for Taiga. Including be his little brother.

Abruptly exhausted by all the emotional effort, Tetsu leaned back in his chair, his eyes drooping. "But it's okay if I stay here for a while longer, isn't it?"

Taiga's voice went soft. "Yeah, of course. I'm glad you're here, Tetsu-chan. I like seeing your face."

Tetsu yawned. "Me too, Taiga-nii."

They were quiet for a while, enjoying each other's company. Taiga's gaze drifted away to the other side of the room, and Tetsu watched him through half-lidded eyes, his mind beginning to fuzz over.

Taiga looked back to him after a little while. "Hey, how did you meet Joji-chan? He seemed comfortable with you. And do you know anything about how Takao got involved? It seems...kind weird. Not bad, at all, but a little strange."

Tetsu grinned. "Are you asking me to tell you a story?"

Taiga blinked for a moment, then laughed and flushed. "Ha! I guess I am. Yes. Please tell me story, Tetsu-chan."

Tetsu's smile went soft and wide. "Certainly. I would be glad to."

Taiga stared at him expectantly.

Tetsu closed his eyes and tipped his head against the back of the chair. "Well, this is all secondhand. But from what I've gathered, Midorima-kun and Takao-kun decided to take a walk in the neighborhood where you were attacked."

"They did?" Taiga's voice was mystified. Not without reason. "Why would they do something like that?"

Tetsu opened his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. Midorima hadn't even stopped by Taiga's room to see him, except for a few minutes while Taiga was still deeply sedated. By the time Taiga woke, he'd already gone back to school. As ever, Midorima's way of showing that he cared was more distant than the others'.

"I'm not entirely sure, but I believe it was Midorima-kun's idea. And no, I'm not sure what he was trying to accomplish. I doubt he knows, himself. But if Midorima-kun was going to do something so questionable and foolhardy, of course Takao-kun would go along."

"Of course," Taiga echoed. It was rare for anyone in their social circle to see Midorima without Takao. The reverse was slightly more probable, but only barely.

"In any case, they found the spot. And they heard... Takao-kun told me, very briefly. He heard Joji-chan sniffling in the garden outside his house. In the cold and the dark. Alone."

Taiga's hand clenched into a fist at his side. "She did it again."

Tetsu paused, tilting his head to the side. Again?

He hadn't yet gotten the full story out of Taiga. No one had, in all likelihood. Tetsu went with a neutral response for now. "Yes. I don't know how Takao-kun convinced Joji-chan to trust him, but I doubt it was very hard. Takao-kun is a very trustworthy fellow."

"Yeah, he is." Taiga's voice warmed at this. It was heartening for them both to know that Joji was safe now, and he would remain safe in perpetuity. Not only had Takao and his family taken him in, but Akashi, with all his resources, had taken a personal interest as well. Probably very few children in Japan were as safe and sheltered as Joji was tonight.

"Afterward, they took Joji-chan to Akashi-kun's apartment, likely because they weren't sure where else to go. That was where that picture was taken, the one Akashi-kun sent to me, then I passed along to Dad. Today, Momoi-san and our coach did some shopping for Joji-chan, and this afternoon they all brought him to visit. I met Joji-chan in the waiting room down the hall. We colored in coloring books and chatted for a bit, but he was shy and withdrawn, so I didn’t make a lot of headway. He seems much more at ease with Takao-kun. Then the doctor said you could have visitors at last, and you know the rest. I'm sorry, that's not a very good story, but it's as much as I know."

Taiga hummed. "No, it's fine. It's a good story. I kind of...guessed parts of it, but I'm glad to know the particulars. I'm glad Joji-chan is safe. I'm glad Takao wants to take care of him. I'm even glad Midorima had the idea to go walking in that stupid, run-down neighborhood. I'm glad..."

He trailed off. After a moment, Tetsu lifted his head to look at him. Taiga was staring at the ceiling, his face blank, fist still clenched at his side.

Tetsu hesitated. But he couldn't help himself. "...Are you glad you went for that night run?"

Taiga blinked rapidly. His face twitched, and he turned his head to face Tetsu. He had smoothed out his expression, but Tetsu could see the effort it had taken. "I don't know. I'm glad Joji-chan is safe now. It makes me hurt to think of him trapped under the thumb of that cruel woman, so I'm glad he's not there anymore. But I'm not glad I got stabbed. Was it worth it? I don't know. I'm not smart enough to figure that out. If I was given the chance to go back in time and decide not to go on that run, or to go anyway, knowing exactly what would happen, I don't know what I would choose."

It was a lot more than Tetsu had expected. Tetsu nodded, accepting this gift with great solemnity. "That's understandable," he murmured. "You don't have to feel good about getting stabbed. Don't try to force yourself."

Taiga sighed. "I guess not. That would be pretty weird, wouldn't it? To be happy I got stabbed."

Tetsu gave him a small, sad smile. "Pretty weird. But you're kind of a weirdo, so..."

Taiga huffed out a breathless little laugh. "Yeah." He turned his face back to the ceiling. "It hurt so much, Tetsu-chan. I couldn't believe how much it hurt. Just a piece of metal, that's all it was, but the way it felt..."

"It's okay, Taiga-nii. You don't have to think about it if you don't want to. You should rest."

"Yeah." Taiga's eyes began to drift shut, slowly, slowly. "Thanks, Tetsu-chan. I'm glad you're here."

"Me too, Taiga-nii."

A little while later, Taiga was asleep. Tetsu sat in his chair, and he ached. But he was glad, too. Maybe Taiga was going to be able to trust him, after all.

Taiga didn't open his eyes again until he knew for sure that Tetsu was gone. He might have fallen asleep for real at one point or another, but when he woke up he was still aware of his need to hide, so he kept his eyes shut. Eventually the gentle breathing of Tetsu at his side was replaced with a different sound, though one he was also comfortable and familiar with. Taiga waited a while longer, just to be on the safe side, then finally opened his eyes and looked.

It was late now, and the lights in the room were dimmed, but he was still able to make out the features of the person sitting next to him. "Aniki. You're taking the late shift again."

Aniki smiled, calm and smooth. "Something like that. Hiroshi-san finally agreed to take a break, get a bath, all of that. I figured you'd be pleased. Tetsu-chan went with him. Said it was what you wanted."

"Yeah." Taiga could hear the heaviness in his own voice, though he tried to keep it light. "What else did Tetsu-chan say?"

"He said he told you as much as he knew about what happened with your friends and the little boy you were so worried about. Joji-chan, right?"

"Yeah. Joji-chan."

"I would tell you more if I had more information, but I don't. And we still haven't really gotten your side of events, come to think of it. About what exactly happened that night. Joji-chan hasn't told anyone, either."

"I don't think he can."

"No one is going to force him."

Taiga was quiet. He could tell Aniki. He could let it all pour out right now, how he had just gone out for a run, how pleasant and ordinary it had been. And then stumbling into familiar horror, coming face to face with a monster, and then being ambushed, wounded, deliberately incapacitated...

Aniki seemed to sense his thoughts. "You don't have to talk about it if you're not ready. No one is going to force you, either."

"Eventually I should tell the police, shouldn't I?"

"Yes. As soon as you can. An officer inquired a couple of times today, hoping to get your statement, but you were still sedated at the time. They'll probably stop by tomorrow, and they'll be less likely to take no for an answer."

Taiga tensed and turned his face up to stare at the ceiling. He was grateful for Aniki's straightforwardness, though. He needed to know what to expect so he could prepare.

Taiga glanced around the room, then back to his big brother. "What time is it?"

"A little before ten at night."

A thought occurred to Taiga, something about visiting hours and non-relatives, but it didn't seem worth asking about. Obviously if this was against the rules, exceptions were being made. Or someone had just straight-out lied and told the hospital that Aniki was a blood relative. It didn't matter. Taiga was glad he was here.

"Is something bothering you, Taiga? You're being very quiet, for you."

Taiga hummed. "Well, I got stabbed, and I lost my memory for a while, and now I'm stuck in a hospital bed and I can't even roll over."

Humor crept into Aniki's voice. "Yes, I suppose you have a right to be bothered. Still. It seems unnatural coming from you."

Taiga sighed. "I'm going to miss the Winter Cup, aren't I?"

"We don't know that yet. Your physical condition was too unstable to make a good prognosis. Hopefully soon we'll find out how long your recovery will take. Don't give up hope."

"But even if it's going to be just a few days, or a few weeks, that's still training time that I'll miss out on."

Aniki sounded uncomfortable, but he didn't deny it. "That's true. I'm sorry, Taiga. It's not fair. None of this is fair. But please try to be optimistic. The doctors are already sure that you don't have any spinal damage, and your nerves seem to be in good shape. Those are hopeful signs."

"I just... I hurt so much right now, Aniki, even with the drugs. It's hard to be optimistic when I can't even imagine standing up like this, never mind playing basketball."

"That's understandable." Aniki's voice was a low murmur.

Taiga ached. He didn't want to make his brother feel bad. Any of his brothers. But at the same time, he couldn't help how he felt. He let his head fall on its side and stared in the opposite direction, away from Aniki. It hurt to see the pain on his face, even in the dimness.

"I lied," he said, so low that it was almost a whisper.

Aniki was quiet for a moment. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I lied," Taiga said a little louder, though the words seemed to burn in his throat. "I lied to Tetsu-chan."

Aniki was still. When his voice came it was entirely neutral and accepting. "I'm sorry you felt like you had to do that, Taiga. What did you lie about?"

"He asked me if I regretted going on that night run, and I lied. I said I didn't know. Joji-chan is an innocent child, and he deserves to be safe. If I hadn't gone out that night, who knows how long he would have been trapped in that horrible situation. I'm happy that he's safe now. But I had to get stabbed to make it happen. I told Tetsu-chan that if I could go back in time and decide not to go on that run, or to go anyway, knowing what would happen, I didn't know what I would choose. But that was a lie.

"I know what I would choose if I was given that opportunity. I wouldn't go, Aniki. I would protect myself at the expense of a suffering little boy. I lied. And I'm an awful person."

Aniki's voice was choked. "Oh, Taiga."

Taiga blinked at the wall. Everything was dim and murky, and his head hurt, and he wanted to go back to sleep. But he ached, he ached so badly, his stomach and his heart. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to cry. But all he did was lie there.

"Taiga, no."

Aniki's hand. It moved toward him slowly, gliding through the air, then clamped down on Taiga's shoulder. "Taiga, no. You're not a bad person. That's a terrible choice to contemplate even in hypothetical terms. And it's not hypothetical for you, because you're lying here, injured, in pain, feeling immediately and exactly just how much that choice cost you. Of course you regret it. It's not bad to want to save yourself from pain. That's simple humanity."

Tetsu drew a shaky breath. "I feel like a bad person."

"And I'm sorry for that, I truly am. I wish... I hope you know that we all wish that we could take this away from you, as long as we're talking about purely hypothetical situations that can never happen. If I could go back in time and stop you from going on that run, maybe I would, too. Because you are my precious brother, real and in front of me and alive, and the idea of sacrificing you in order to save a strange child I've never met... The human mind is not built to make choices like that, Taiga. That's why we're not allowed to know the future. All we can do is muddle through as best we can, every day."

"But I lied to Tetsu-chan." Taiga's voice was so quiet that even he could barely hear it. He closed his eyes and felt a tear trickle down his cheek. It stung like ice, piercing to the bone.

"And I'm sorry you felt you had to do that. I know how precious Tetsu-chan's good regard is to you. He looks up to you and he trusts you, and he loves having you as a big brother. He loves it. That's a beautiful thing, and I understand why you would try to preserve it. I understand how you feel. I feel the same way about you."

Taiga lifted a shaky hand and scrubbed at his cheeks. "What worth does it have if I have to lie to keep it?"

"That's a difficult question, one that you should think about. I think Tetsu would tell you that his feelings toward you would not be changed by something like this. If you asked him what choice he would make in that ridiculous, hypothetical question you posed for yourself, he might want the same as you. And he would probably feel bad about it. But that's just how much he loves you and wants to protect you."

"It's not Tetsu-chan's job to protect me. It's supposed to be the other way."

"I know how important that is to you, too. You two... You started out not really liking Tetsu-chan very much, didn't you?"

Taiga jerked out a little laugh. "It's not that I disliked him. I just thought he was weak, and terrible at basketball, so he wasn't worth my time. I didn't understand that his weakness was actually a weird kind of strength."

"But that changed. Pretty quickly, I think."

"Yeah." Taiga stared at the wall. "It was...what? Maybe a week. The first game we played together as teammates. Tetsu-chan is really bad at one-on-one. Probably always will be. But when he's your teammate... I would rather have him at my side than anyone else in the world."

"You came to look up to him. You were almost in awe."

"Yeah. He saved my ass a bunch of times, Aniki. But there came a time when he couldn't. Aomine. Tetsu-chan couldn't get past that wall. Then it was my turn to save him."

"It made you feel good, didn't it? You became very protective of Tetsu-chan. And you've remained so ever since."

"Yeah." Taiga's shoulders relaxed into the bed, his eyes drooping. It was relaxing to fall back into these good memories. They hadn't seem good at the time, of course. They had been hard, maybe the hardest experiences Taiga had ever had. But looking back on them two years later, they were amazing.

"It wasn't just him saving me, or me saving him. We saved each other. Over and over and over, in every single basketball game."

Aniki squeezed his shoulder. "It became a way of life."

"It was great. And then..."

They were quiet for a moment. "That horrible month," Aniki said. Whispered it, as if ashamed to bring it up.

"I knew I needed to save him, but I didn't know from what. When I found out... I was so mad at myself, Aniki. That it took me so long to figure it out."

"Your protectiveness grew very strong. It was like a dragon. I remember the first time I visited you two, while Tetsu-chan was recovering from his illness. You astonished me, Taiga. You were so strong and kind and sheltering and good. I hardly recognized my little brother."

"I had to be. He needed me."

"He did. I know. And you wanted to be everything he needed, so you were. Now, you've kept it up for two years. Tetsu-chan has been recovering all the time, but the journey was long. I'm sure you made mistakes here and there, but no one can doubt how valuable you've been to his healing. But didn't you notice, Taiga? Tetsu-chan is a lot stronger now."

Taiga blinked. He turned his head over to stare at Aniki, his eyes wide in the dimness.

Aniki smiled. His hand was warm on Taiga's shoulder. "He might not be as strong as you, but he's pretty close. All thanks to you, and your father, and the good and loving support system you and your friends and teammates have provided for him. Don't you think you can trust him now?"

Taiga opened his mouth, then closed it. He wanted to say that of course he trusted Tetsu, he always trusted Tetsu, but was that true? It was hard to be protective and trusting at the same time, and for years now Taiga's protective instincts had ruled dominate in his relationship with his little brother.

"Maybe it's time for you to go back," Aniki said softly. "Maybe it's time for you to save each other again, instead of the saving only going one way. Or maybe you just need to relax and let Tetsu save you again, like he did at the beginning. He wants to, very much."

Taiga said nothing. He couldn't even imagine such a thing. It was impossible.

"Well." Aniki gave his shoulder one last squeeze, then released him and sat back in his chair. "Something to ponder."

Taiga looked away, swallowing against the lump in his throat. He didn't respond, because it wouldn't be anything Aniki wanted to hear.

No. Never. That wasn't Tetsu's job.

Hiroshi knew he should sleep. He hadn't slept for...what. Days? Weeks? Months? A long time. His eyes were gritty, his mouth was dry, and had long passed the point where the entire world seemed to swoop and yaw with every tiny movement of his head. Now he felt pretty much like an astronaut. Like gravity wasn't right on this weird planet he'd landed on.

It had been a good idea to come home. The bath had been very important, and it had been somehow comforting to find Mura-chan sacked out in the main room snoring away with his long limbs stretched across two entire futons. (Hiroshi wasn’t there for this, but apparently Mura-chan had refused to sleep on the floor in Tetsu's room, saying there wasn't enough space for him to sleep properly. It was probably true. And none of them had been into Taiga's room.)

After bathing and eating and wishing Tetsu a pleasant night, Hiroshi got into bed. He laid on his back and stared at the ceiling. Then he closed his eyes. He tried breathing slow and thinking about his limbs getting heavy. He counted his breaths. He imagined how satisfying it would be to punch Tetsu's father in the face, just once. Now, he could add little Joji's mother to that fantasy, as well. It was usually a perfect relaxation technique.

Nothing worked. After a couple of hours, Hiroshi gave it up as a bad job. He sat up, switched on the light, and blinked stickily at the room for a while. No good. Everything reminded him of Taiga.

This room had been Taiga's for the year Hiroshi was trapped in LA, after all. It was the biggest bedroom in the apartment, and it only made sense for him to use it once they had realized that he was going to be living here alone. Hiroshi knew very well that Taiga had never really utilized all of the space, of course. His needs were simple and few. But he was a big guy, so he had deserved the room to stretch out.

When Hiroshi moved back from LA, Taiga insisted on giving him the room back, while he would take the room that had been Hiroshi's little office-slash-den for a while. Hiroshi had argued with him, but he hadn't won. So now he had the biggest room. He had his bed in one corner next to the window, and his office space in the opposite corner, desk and computer and bookshelves. There was even a small sofa against one wall, perfect for lounging in when he could work from home and he didn't feel like sitting in a desk chair with no one there to judge him. He did his best to always be grateful for the space, for his own little home within their larger, shared home. Everyone needed somewhere to retreat.

But now, it was too big. Hiroshi looked around the room. He studied every piece of furniture, the clothes he had abandoned carelessly on the floor, the papers scattered over his desk. His mind insisted on bringing up images of Taiga in here, picking up the clothes and straightening the papers, cheerfully scolding Hiroshi for not being a better example to his teenage sons. "You only act like an adult when you have to," he would say. "I know you're the one who's been stealing my shampoo, too. Whatever will I do with such a father? No one would ever believe them if I told them. Not even Tetsu-chan. He thinks you're a god."

They had never had that exact conversation. But Hiroshi could hear it all too easily. He could almost feel it, the warmth of his eldest son filling this too-wide space and making it feel like a home again instead of a trap. Hiroshi pressed his hand to his heart and closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at the room any longer.

This was ridiculous. Taiga was fine. He was wounded and hospitalized, and he might have a hard recovery ahead of him. But he wasn't dead. He wasn't. He might have been in danger of that at some point, abandoned on a cold street bleeding from the gut, but he hadn't died. Someone had found him. Someone had called for help. (And if Hiroshi ever found out who had done that, what anonymous angel had rescued his son from the elements for him... "Shower of gratitude" did not begin to cover what Hiroshi would subject that person to.)

Taiga wasn't dead. He was alive and well, and Hiroshi had seen him just a few hours ago. He could pick up his cell phone and call Tatsuya and hear exactly what Taiga was doing right this second. (Hopefully sleeping. He should be sleeping. They should all be sleeping.) He could even ask Tatsuya to wake him up so he could speak to him and hear his voice, if he really needed to. It might help him sleep.

But no. Taiga was fine. It wouldn't do any good to interrupt his rest, which he so badly needed. That would be selfish. Hiroshi would be an adult. He would not be selfish.

This wasn't working. Hiroshi needed some kind of change, or he was never going to be able to get any rest. For a moment, his gaze lingered on the top drawer of his nightstand, which held a bottle of pills small enough to hide in a fist. He had a high-paced, high-stress life, and his doctor had suggested he might need some help to calm down once in awhile. Tiny little white pills that promised a dreamless sleep for an entire night. Hiroshi hadn't tried them yet. He felt like once he did, he wouldn't be able to stop. He didn't want to be dependent on chemicals produced in a lab in order to control his life.

No, what he really needed was his sons, both safe and healthy and at home with him. Safe at home, just down the hall, where he could go and stop outside their bedroom doors and listen to them breathe, just to make sure. It had become something of a habit on those nights when Hiroshi had trouble finding sleep. He found it more calming than any drug he could imagine.

That soothing activity was not an option now. After sitting still in his bed for a bit longer, swaying where he sat, Hiroshi finally pushed the covers aside and swung his legs over the side. His feet touched down on the cool flooring, and his toes scrunched up in reaction. He didn't usually miss the American peculiarity of wall-to-wall carpeting (what a strange habit for a country where people wore shoes indoors) but at moments like this, he did.

Hiroshi pulled in a breath and staggered up on unsteady legs. He pulled the top blanket off the bed and wrapped it around his shoulders, moved to the door to turn on the overhead lights, then stumbled to the desk. Maybe some paperwork would calm him down. There were reports he needed to read, results he needed to absorb and analyze. And he really did need to make it up to his boss and the high-priority clients he had skipped out on when he cut his trip short. He had been joking when he told Taiga that he could have lost his job, but honestly, when he thought back to that look in his boss's eyes when Hiroshi had demanded to be allowed to leave...

Well, it was done. Nothing Hiroshi could do now but try to mend any bridges he might have accidentally burnt in the extremity of his fear. He gathered a handful of papers from the briefcase he had abandoned on his desk what felt like ages ago, then went over to the little sofa at the edge of the room and not so much sat down on it as fell loosely from a height.

Sitting, Hiroshi pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders and blinked down the papers. This...was a report. Not the one he'd meant to grab. It would have to do. He squinted his eyes against the harsh light and the pounding behind his eyes and began to read.

A soft scuff at the door interrupted him. Hiroshi was almost breathless with gratitude. He looked up and found Tetsu standing there, holding the door open only a handspan, his face sleepy and bashful. "Dad?"

"Tetsu-chan." Hiroshi lowered the papers into his lap. "Are you all right?"

Tetsu nodded, blinking with great care as he tried to adjust to the yellow light of Hiroshi's room. "I saw the light on under the door..."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. Do you want to come in?"

Tetsu nodded more easily this time, then pushed the door open and let himself in, bare feet padding noiselessly on the floor. He was carrying his pillow in front of him, one arm wrapped around it to hold it against his stomach. It was almost like a child with a teddy bear. Almost like Joji earlier today, and Hiroshi's heart clenched at the comparison.

"You didn't wake me," Tetsu said, already moving closer to the sofa where Hiroshi sat. "I was already awake."

"I see." Hiroshi patted the cushion next to him, and Tetsu plopped down. He leaned his head against the back of the sofa and closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again and stared straight ahead.

Hiroshi smiled, thought it was twisted and sad. "You couldn't sleep, either? I'm sorry to hear that."

"Mm. I slept for a little while. It was good. But I woke up again."

"Did you have a bad dream?"

Tetsu was quiet, just staring into the distance. Hiroshi waited, then began to regret the question.

"It's all right, you don't have to answer that if you don't want to."

Tetsu blinked, coming out of wherever he'd gone, and turned his head to look at Hiroshi. "I have a lot of bad dreams."

Hiroshi felt a pang in his chest. It was a good thing he knew what this was, or he might have to start asking his doctor about heart problems, too. "I know," he said softly. "Taiga usually helps you with them."

Tetsu must have missed his big brother tonight. Damn. This wasn't fair.

"They're usually about the past. This one was different. It was about the future."

Oh. Hiroshi went very, very still. "What did you see, Tetsu-chan?"

"Taiga-nii told me once that he had bad dreams sometimes, too. But they were about me. He would dream about me disappearing in front of him, or being taken away by some dark and terrifying force. He said he never dreamed about my father hurting me, I guess because he's so confident, even in his subconsciousness, that I'm safe from that now. But he would dream about something he didn't understand instead. Because that's what Taiga-nii fears. He fears things he doesn't understand and can't beat off with his fists. My depression. My trauma. My lack of self-esteem. My panic attacks and flashbacks."

Hiroshi nodded. He and Taiga had discussed this more than once. When Tetsu had a bad dream, he went to Taiga. When Taiga had a bad dream, he went to Hiroshi.

Tetsu sighed and looked away again. "I never really understood why he was so afraid of those things. Didn't he know that he was already defending me from them? That my brother, and my dad, and my team, and my friends are all my stalwart allies in this fight? There's no way I can fail with all of you beside me, behind me, in front of me.

"But I understand now. Because for the first time, I had a dream like that, too."

"I see." Hiroshi dumped his papers on the floor. Then he wrapped his arm around Tetsu's shoulders and pulled him in, his other arm circling around the front to hold his son close to his side, warm and real and breathing and alive. "It must have been terrifying."

Tetsu relaxed against him. He nodded, his soft hair tickling under Hiroshi's chin. "I know Taiga-nii will recover physically. It might be hard and long, and he might miss out on a lot of things he'd rather be a part of, and that's bad and it hurts and it makes me sad and angry that all of that was stolen from my precious nii-san. But I'm not afraid of that, because I know Taiga-nii is strong and he can get through any physical challenge. He always has and he always will. I'm scared of other things. I'm scared of things I don't understand."

"I think you might understand them better than you realize,Tetsu-chan. I think you might understand better than anyone else. I hadn't even realized that we might have more to worry about than just the physical aspect of Taiga's recovery. But here you are, already looking ahead and seeing the other challenges we might face. That's very wise of you."

Tetsu pulled his knees up so he could rest his feet on the sofa, turning his body into a cuddly little ball rolled into Hiroshi's side. Hiroshi let go of him long enough to pull the blanket away from his shoulder and wrap it around them both. Tetsu leaned forward to accommodate the movement, then rested against him again.

"Can I stay here for a while?" Tetsu asked. "I'm sorry. You looked like you were studying something."

"It was nothing," Hiroshi said. "Those papers were useless. I wasn't even really reading them. Of course you can stay a while. You can stay as long as you want."

"Thank you."

Tetsu tucked his head under Hiroshi's chin again. Hiroshi held him warm in both arms, though he raised one hand to trail slowly through Tetsu's hair.

"Don't be afraid," Hiroshi murmured, the words rumbling deep in his chest. "Whatever Taiga is going through, whatever he suffers now and in the days ahead, we will never, never let him go. He's not going to disappear. We're not going to let anything take him away. All of your allies are his allies, too. Besides that, he also gets you. You're worth ten of the rest of us. So Taiga will be fine. He can't be anything else. It's not possible."

Tetsu drew in a deep breath, then let it out. "Thank you, Dad. I'm glad you're here."

"Me too, Tetsu-chan." Hiroshi kissed the top of his head. "Me too."

Hiroshi's eyes began to droop. Tetsu's breath was slow and even. The light no longer seemed to burn. And they slept.

"Joji-chan, are you tired? I think it's time to get ready for bed."

Joji looked up at Takao from where he sat on the floor, his eyes suddenly large. Takao looked behind himself at the doorway where his mother stood, watching. She gave him a nod, slow and encouraging, and Takao looked back to Joji. Then he crouched down in front of him to be closer to his level and gave him a smile.

"I'm glad you've been having fun playing with the toys Satsuki-san and Riko-san picked out for you. But it's been a long day, and it's time to take a bath and go to bed. Wouldn't it be nice to get all snuggled up nice and warm under some covers? I'm really looking forward to it."

Joji glanced behind Takao at his mother. Takao didn't miss the way Joji’s shoulders tensed up as he tried to gauge her body language, whether she was the one putting Takao up to this, what the consequences might be if he refused. Takao looked back over his shoulder in time to see his mom give them both a little wave, then gently exit from the doorway.

Takao's love for his mom overwhelmed him for a moment. Not only had she agreed to this...this massive undertaking Takao had volunteered his entire family for, but she was also amazingly wise and understanding in that acceptance. The moment she met Joji, she had noticed the way he tensed up, the way he watched her warily and waited for her reactions, her words, the way she would treat him. It didn't matter that Takao's mom bore very little resemblance to Joji's awful mother—they were both women, both figures of authority, and that made them both dangerous in Joji's eyes.

So Takao's mom had let him take the lead in taking care of Joji, at least for the night. She was being slow and gentle and kind, and Takao did not doubt that before long Joji would trust her as much as Takao trusted her. But for now, it was up to him.

Takao looked back to Joji and found him still sitting there, frozen, his hands holding the little plastic bricks of the toy set Momoi and Coach Aida had bought for him with Akashi's money. "Where...where will I sleep tonight?" Joji whispered, uncertainty in his eyes.

Well, you're not going back to your old home. Never again. Takao didn't say it aloud. He really wasn't sure how Joji would react to that news. So far they had all been treating Joji's stay with them like some sort of extended sleepover. It wouldn't work forever, but the poor child had already been through so much stress that Takao didn't want to do anything to add to it.

"I don't know if you noticed, but our house is kinda small," Takao said as cheerfully as he could manage. "We'll set up something better for you soon, but tonight, Mom and I were thinking that you could just sleep in my bed with me. Would that be okay?"

Joji's eyes widened. "I get to sleep in Kazu-nii's room?"

Takao felt his grin relax, turning genuine instead of strained. "Yeah, for sure. That will be fun, right?"

Joji nodded eagerly. He started to set the bricks down on the floor, then looked at the container they had come in. He cast a hopeless glance around himself, where all of the pieces were scattered far and wide. Takao almost laughed, stopping himself only because he did not want to make Joji feel bad for being messy. It had actually been reassuring to discover that Joji could be as reckless with his toys as any other child.

"Here, I'll help you put them away." Takao started scooping up some of the loose bricks. "That way they'll all be ready for you tomorrow. Can you show me where to put them?"

Joji blew out a breath in relief, then started picking up the partially assembled car he'd been making. "Let's put this in first."

"Good idea."

Between the two of them, they cleaned it all up in a twinkling. Then Takao led the way to his bedroom, where most of the clothes and other items the ladies had bought for Joji had been delivered. He dug through a random bag or three and finally found a pajama set for Joji, then pulled a fresh t-shirt and pair of shorts from his dresser for himself. Joji stood against the wall throughout the process, just watching Takao move around the room. Finally, Takao stopped in front him, his hands full of clothes, and gave him a smile. "Bath first, okay? It'll be faster if we go together, and then we can get into bed. It'll be really nice."

He started to move toward the hall, expecting Joji to follow him. But there was no movement. Takao made it a full step out of the doorway before he stopped and turned back. His heart was suddenly heavy in chest, seeming to touch down into his stomach. Joji still stood there against the wall, watching him with frightened eyes. He didn't seem to be breathing.

"Joji-chan?" He stood still for a moment, then dumped the clothes in a chair by the door and went back to the boy. He crouched down in front of him, making himself shorter than Joji, and looked up into his face. "What's the matter?"

He was sure he knew, though. He couldn't believe he'd forgotten.

Joji's chest hitched. "B-bath? You want us to take a bath together?"

Takao swallowed. His heart was beating hard. "Sure, Joji-chan. People take baths together all the time. Didn't you ever take a bath with your dad or your classmates?"

Joji's face was deathly white. "I d-don't remember my dad. And my classmates... No, I didn't."

Takao's mouth felt dry. "Your dad left your family? Or did he die?"

"I...I don't know. My mama never told me about him, 'cept sometimes she would talk about how 'that bastard' left her with a pain she could never get rid of."

She meant Joji. Takao saw red for a moment, his hands clenching into involuntary fists. Then he forced himself to let go of his fists and pull in a breath, just as black spots started dancing in his vision. "I'm sorry, Joji-chan. That's really awful. My dad is very kind, you know? It's too bad he's not home today. He would have loved to meet you. But you'll get to see him soon, and you'll know. Some parents are... My parents are really great." I'm sorry that yours aren't. Was it too early to say that? Would Joji understand? Would he be able to accept it?

Joji nodded faintly. "I'm happy that Kazu-nii has nice parents."

"Let's go take a bath, okay?" Takao heard the pleading in his voice. He couldn't help it. "It will feel good to refresh ourselves."

Joji's arms wrapped around his abdomen, slow, then tight and hard. "I...I can't. I'm not supposed to..."

"You're not supposed to let anyone see, right?"

As soon as the words left his lips, Takao wanted to take them back. He almost slapped his hand over his mouth. He felt the blood drain from his face, then rise back up, flushed and red.

He hadn't meant to be so direct. Not yet. It was too much. Surely it was too much.

Joji stared at him, his eyes so huge that they seemed to take up the entirety of his face. His mouth was hanging open, and he leaned heavily against the wall behind him. He seemed a breath away from passing out from pure tension.

Takao sucked in a breath so hard that it made him dizzy. "You don't..." You don't have to answer that, he started to say. But then he stopped. How much longer could they tiptoe around this?

Eventually, they had to see. They had to record the evidence. It was hard and it sucked, but they had to. They couldn't leave anything to chance, any scrap of truth that could help them lock Joji's mother away for good once they found her. Takao had already been thinking that he needed to start pressing the issue tomorrow, for sure. But maybe now was better. They had to start somewhere.

So he said something bold and audacious and almost unbelievable, instead. "You don't have to follow her rules anymore."

Joji's breath caught and stopped for a moment. He stared at Takao without blinking.

Takao tried to smile, but couldn't manage it. His voice was quiet and serious as it rarely, rarely was. "It's okay, Joji-chan. You don't have to talk. I know she told you not to. But I'm going to make some guesses about why you're so scared to take a bath with me. You can nod if I'm right, okay? And if I'm wrong, you can shake your head. Or you can just not answer. I'll understand. Can you do that? Can you nod?"

For a few seconds longer, Joji just stared at him, his eyelashes fluttering as he struggled to take it in. Takao held his breath, his lips pressed tightly together. Maybe this was too much. Maybe it was too fast. Maybe he should have waited and just let Joji bathe alone they way they had done last night.

But Joji nodded. It was slow and shaky, a slight movement of his head little more than a shiver of unease, but Takao caught it. He smiled, small and serious and genuine.

"Thank you, Joji-chan." Takao settled down into a cross-legged position on the floor, still looking up at the boy. He made his body go still, his hands loose in his lap, to demonstrate to Joji that he was in control here; there was no danger. "I'm guessing that your mama told you not to take a bath with anyone at your school, didn't she?"

Joji nodded, small and faint.

"In fact, she taught you to never let anyone see you without your clothes, right?"

Another nod, slightly more confident.

"And in the summer, she would dress you in long sleeves and trousers, even when the other kids were running around in shorts and t-shirts."

A nod.

"You weren't supposed to let anyone see what was underneath."

Nod.

"And it was because..." Takao drew a breath. Held it. Let it out.

"It was because you always had so many bruises. She told you that they were ugly, and they made you ugly, and you couldn't let anyone see how ugly you were. She told you that you deserved them because you were naughty and annoying and a bother, and if other people knew that, they wouldn't want to be around you. She told you to hide them so no one would know."

It was a lot all at once. Takao had to force himself to stop, had to force his voice to stop rising with the rage and indignation that bubbled up in his chest as he spoke of this. Joji stared at him. He didn't nod.

Takao held still. He offered another smile, as reassuring as he could make it. "Was any of that true? Even part of it?"

Joji nodded.

"All of it?"

Hesitation. Joji's hands wrung together in front of him, his knuckles turning white and red, blotchy with distress. And he nodded.

Takao dared to reach out one hand, slow and careful. Joji held still, not flinching, not moving at all. Once again, he was still and frozen, trapped in silence like an animal in a cage. Takao wrapped his palm around Joji's hand, pulling it away from the other so they couldn't wring together like that anymore. He held Joji's hand in his, sharply and achingly aware of how small it was within his own, how thin and chilled and shaking.

"I know you learned recently that some of your mama's rules were bad. I know it was hard for you to understand, and I know this might be hard for you to believe. But I swear, Joji-chan. I swear that I will always, always tell you the truth. And the truth is that this rule she had, the one where you weren't supposed to let anyone see you... I swear to you, that was a bad rule."

Joji swallowed, the sound clicking in his throat. He must feel as dry and parched and desperate as Takao did, if not worse. Takao's chest jerked as he tried to smooth out his breathing. He couldn't do it.

"She didn't make you hide the bruises because they were proof that you were naughty. She made you hide them because they were proof that she was naughty, and she didn't want anyone to know that. She didn't want anyone to know that she was hurting you, because it was bad, and she knew it. It was wrong of her to hurt you. It was wrong of her to give you those bruises. You weren't naughty, Joji-chan. You didn't deserve that. You didn't deserve any of it. And now that you're with Kazu-nii, in Kazu-nii's room and Kazu-nii's house, with Kazu-nii's mother and father, that will never happen to you again."

Joji blinked.

"Do you understand?"

Please. Please let him understand. Please let him learn to feel safe here, with Takao, with his family. Please let this child begin to heal.

Joji stared. And slowly, slowly, he turned his hand in Takao's, rubbing palm against palm. Takao loosened his grip, just a little, just enough to let him move without letting go completely. Joji wasn't pulling away. He was just...moving. For some reason.

Finally, Joji got his hand situated the way he wanted it. And his slid his fingers into the gaps between Takao's fingers, twining their hands together. He squeezed, soft and close. Takao squeezed him back. Then, Joji nodded.

Takao let out a breath and closed his eyes for a moment. Then he opened them again and gave Joji the biggest grin yet, huge and wide and relieved. "Good. I'm so glad. Now, let's take a bath."

Joji nodded.

Takao was being quiet. Takao was never quiet.

Midorima figured Takao would talk eventually about whatever was bothering him. It was Takao's nature to share what he felt, always and without ceasing. When Takao was subdued at morning basketball practice, Midorima figured he would tell him what was going on when they walked to class from the gym. When that didn't happen, surely at lunch, then. Between classes. On the way to afternoon practice?

No. Takao was quiet.

They didn't have class in the same room, but it always seemed to naturally fall out that Takao would end up walking on the same path as Midorima to the gym after school. Midorima had come to expect it. So when the school day ended and club activities were about to begin, he found himself loitering near the corner of the school where they usually met. Takao didn't show immediately, and... Well. Where was he?

Midorima turned around where he stood, his heart suddenly thumping in his chest. His hands curled into fists in his pockets, his shoulders hunched and tight. What if... No, surely that was impossible. But...but...

The police still hadn't caught Joji's mother. She had disappeared into the depths of Tokyo without a trace. She had already attacked one of Midorima's friends for daring to interfere with her abuse of her son. Ambushed him from a blind alley, caught him off guard, laid him out on the ground and then tore into him like a monster. Could it be... Again...?

No. There he was. Midorima slumped, his hands sliding out of his pockets to dangle loosely at his sides. Takao was making his way toward their usual corner, his footsteps plodding and slow. His sports duffel hung from one hand, and his hair draped limply around his face as if even his scalp was weary. Not for the first time today, Midorima noted the lines on Takao's forehead, the aching vulnerability in his eyes.

"Takao," Midorima greeted him, when he finally arrived.

"Shin-chan." Takao mustered up a grin, somehow still bright and warm and sunny as the sky above. "You waited for me." He shrugged his shoulder forward. "Let's get to practice."

"Wait." Midorima reached out as if to grab his shoulder, but halted midway through the motion. His hand fell down to his side again, clenched into an awkward fist, then let go.

Takao responded as if Midorima had grabbed him, though. He turned back, his eyebrows rising. "What is it, Shin-chan?"

"You..." Midorima fidgeted where he stood. "You're quiet. Today. More than usual."

Takao grinned. "That's my intelligent friend. Never miss a trick, do you? C'mon, let's get to the gym."

"No."

Again, Takao started to turn, then halted at Midorima's voice. His eyebrows rose even higher. "What's the matter, Shin-chan?"

Midorima stared at him. "Tell me why you're being quiet." He couldn't believe he had to ask. But if he had to, he would.

The corner of Takao's mouth turned up in a wry smile. "Really, you don't know? I thought you'd know already. You predicted it, after all."

Midorima frowned. "Predicted what?"

Takao spread his free hand in an expansive gesture. "The future, Shin-chan. You told the future. Mine and Joji-chan's. You don't remember? Because you were right. Utterly and absolutely right in every single way."

Midorima's heart sank. He had made predictions the other night that he hadn't wanted to be true. Not at all. But he had thought it would be best to give Takao the bleakest and most disturbing possibilities ahead, so he could be as prepared as he could be, so he could turn back before it was too late. Midorima hadn't wanted to be right.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Ah." Takao rubbed his fist over his face like a child trying to chase away the remnants of sleep. "Joji-chan... Well, it was a bit of a miracle, all told. He let me see something, Shin-chan. Something he'd been keeping a secret for a long, long time. And you were right. I cried harder than he did."

"He let you see his bruises."

"Yeah. I persuaded him. Talked him into it. Told him stories about how his mama had bad rules and he didn't have to follow them anymore, and he went for it. I'm a genius."

Takao did not sound happy about his success. He sounded miserable.

"I knew it would be hard. I knew it would make me sad. But I didn't realize..." Takao looked away.

"How bad were they?"

"Bad." Takao laughed, a short, stuttered sound, and looked back into Midorima's face. He was trying to smile. Midorima knew he didn't think this was funny. He was just trying to approach this as he approached everything—with a light heart and a friendly expression. Midorima didn't think it was working out very well this time. There were tears in Takao's eyes, hidden but there.

"I mean..." Takao tried to mitigate it. "I don't think they were as bad as Tetsu-chan's. I didn't see that picture Murasakibara sent out, but I saw the strap, and... It takes a lot to make someone bleed with just a flat piece of leather. A lot."

"I know," Midorima murmured. He didn't like to think about it either.

"But Joji-chan... He's only seven. And to think of someone doing that to him, hitting him that hard, leaving marks like that on his arms and his back and his side…”

Takao stared at the ground. His voice slowly faded, sinking into the ground, as if the very words were shameful. Which they were, in a way. “I guess it wasn’t that many, really. And some of them were faded. But they were so big, and the new ones were really dark, like… Like she just...she put so much power into it. All the strength she had. To hurt her little boy. Why…?"

"Takao." Midorima finished reaching out this time. His hand clamped down on Takao's shoulder, hard and firm. "Let's sit down." He tilted his head toward the low wall that surrounding some of the landscaping.

"We should get to practice."

"In a minute."

They sat, letting their bags fall beside them on the ground. The rough stone was cold, and Midorima shifted to find a comfortable spot. Takao stared straight ahead, his body slumping as if he was exhausted.

"Did you sleep well?" Midorima asked.

Takao shook his head. "I kept waking up. To check on him. It was easy because we were sleeping in the same bed, but... I don't know. I had to make sure."

"Did Joji-chan sleep well, then?"

"I think so. He barely moved all night. That's unnatural, right? Kids are supposed to be restless. He must have learned how to make himself be quiet so he wouldn't bother anyone."

"It wouldn't surprise me."

They fell silent for moment.

"Where is Joji-chan now?" Midorima asked.

"Mom's taking care of him today. I think they're registering at the elementary school. He'll be going to the same school as my little sister."

Huh. Midorima had almost forgotten that Takao already had a younger sibling. It must have been disconcerting for her to suddenly have another child in the house. "What does Eri-chan think of this situation?"

"She's a little... She thinks it strange. We didn't tell her why we have a 'little cousin' living with us now. They didn't interact much last night. They won't be in the same class, anyway. She's nine."

"It's a big change."

"Yeah. It is."

"For you, too."

"Yeah." Takao was silent for a split-second, then whirled on Midorima so suddenly that Midorima blinked and leaned back a few centimeters. "I chose this," Takao said through gritted teeth. "I decided I was going to do it. I got a taste of how bad it would be yesterday, and I'm still going through with it. I'm never going to quit. Never."

Midorima blinked. "I know." He kept his voice calm and patient. It wasn't hard. If there was anyone who deserved calm and patience from him, after all he put up with from Midorima, it was Takao. "I know how strong your heart is. I don't doubt the strength of your conviction."

It was Takao's turn to blink. After a moment, he turned and faced forward again, his shoulders slumping. "Oh."

Midorima straightened again. He watched Takao carefully, not daring to look away. "I know how you feel about helping Joji-chan. But that doesn't mean you have to be stoic about how it affects you." He almost smiled at the thought. Takao being stoic. What a fanciful image.

Takao half-smiled, too, as if reading Midorima's thoughts. He probably could, in all honesty. "That's kind of you to say, Shin-chan."

"Just because you accepted this difficult task, just because you understand how much it will hurt you and you still want to do it... That doesn’t mean you have to suffer in silence. And it doesn't mean you have to do it alone."

Takao turned to look at him, his eyes slowly widening. "Are you...are you offering to help me, Shin-chan?"

Midorima frowned, shifting where he sat again. These stones were really cold. "I'm not…not offering," he said cautiously.

Takao grinned, broad and wide and effortless. And he threw back his head and laughed at the sky. "Shin-chan! Offering to help me!" He lowered his head again and just beamed at Midorima, his eyes sparkling, heels kicking against the wall. He looked like a kid, light-hearted and effervescent once more, and Midorima's heart lightened in response.

"Is it so strange?" he grumbled. "I like Joji-chan too, you know."

"Such a tsundere, Shin-chan." Takao shook his head, but his grin didn't fade.

"I wish you'd quit calling me that. It's a cliche."

"Some cliches are based in reality. I can't help the fact that you're ridiculous. If you don't want me to call you tsundere, you shouldn't act tsundere."

Midorima crossed his arms over his chest. Takao laughed.

It was good to hear.

Midorima sighed. But he supposed that there was some value in saying it aloud, after all. Since Takao seemed to need to hear it. "If you ever want to talk... I'll always listen."

The corners of Takao's eyes wrinkled up as if he was laughing at a hilarious joke. "I talk to you all the time, with or without permission. I know you don't always listen to what I'm saying."

"Yes, but I'm telling you now... I will. I'll listen. I can't..." Midorima huffed out a breath, his arms sliding down to rest at his sides again. "I can't do what you do. I know that. I can't offer Joji-chan a home and a family and a big brother who will always, always take care of him. You are much better suited for such a task, and it's a good thing that you're willing to take it up. But what I can, I will do. I will listen. And I will try to offer some perspective when you feel yourself getting caught up in it all. I will do my best to remind you of the larger picture when the day to day threatens to overwhelm you. And if you can think of anything else I might be able to offer you, please ask. I will do my best for you."

Partway through this speech, possibly the most awkward (and yet sincerely and deeply meant) of Midorima's entire life, Takao turned to face him. And he sat there, letting Midorima talk, his eyes growing as wide as saucers. At the end, Takao's mouth was slightly parted, his face blank. Midorima looked back at him, then flicked his eyes away, unable to meet such open scrutiny. He'd meant every word he'd said, but he didn't know how else to show it.

Finally, Midorima fell silent. And he gave a little shrug. "I hope you... I hope you believe me," he said haltingly. "I know I'm not good at...showing my appreciation. And it's not because I'm tsundere," he added with some heat.

"I believe you," Takao said, wonder in his voice. "That was amazing, Shin-chan. I never imagined such a speech coming out of your mouth."

Midorima shifted on the stones again. Damn, they were uncomfortable. Finally, he rose to his feet and bent down to pick up his abandoned bag. "Of course. We're friends, aren't we? Let's go to practice."

He didn't look back, sure that Takao would follow. For a moment, there was no movement behind him, and he almost stopped and turned back. But then there was a flurry of rustling and footsteps. Takao raced up behind him and slapped his hand into Midorima's back so hard that Midorima stumbled forward a step, his glasses bouncing down on his nose.

"Of course we are!" Takao's voice was loud and boisterous once more, as if to make up for all the quiet earlier. He laughed, too, bright and loud and free, and something in Midorima's chest loosened and melted away. "We're awesome friends! If you keep this up, Shin-chan, I won't be able to call you a tsundere any more."

Midorima grunted and straightened up, then pushed his glasses up his nose again. He tried to suppress it, but a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. "You are ridiculous, Takao."

"I know." Takao slapped his back again, not as hard as before, just letting Midorima feel the overflow of his joy. "But so are you, so we can be ridiculous together. I don't mind if you don't mind."

Midorima huffed and strode toward the gym. "Come along, then. Let's go to practice."

"Yeah, let's go. It's gonna be great. And afterward, you should come home and have dinner with my family. You know you're welcome anytime, right?"

"I know."

They went to practice.

"Oh, hey, Shige."

It was a relief to see Taiga smile. Ogiwara smiled back, unable to stop himself. Taiga looked exhausted, leaning limply against the reclined hospital bed with his neck muscles loose and bags under his eyes. But he was there, he was alive, he was going to be fine. Ogiwara sniffed, hard, before his emotions could get the better of him, and forced himself to smile wider.

"Good to see you, Taiga. When you are busting out of this joint?"

Taiga's chest heaved in a small sigh. It was a strangely controlled, careful motion, which made Ogiwara squint in confusion. Taiga was never controlled, never careful.

Then he understood why, and the realization was like a hammer blow to the chest, even worse than his first glimpse of Taiga trapped in this sterile, sour-smelling environment had been. Taiga was being careful with the way he moved because it hurt him. It hurt him to sigh too deeply. The mere thought made Ogiwara want to punch something.

Preferably the monster who had done this. Who had put Taiga here, weak and tired and exhausted and in pain, trapped in this place where he did not remotely belong. Ogiwara had been joking when he used language that suggested that Taiga leaving this place would be like breaking out of prison, but it wasn't funny. It wasn't funny at all.

"Don't know yet," Taiga said. "Doctors said maybe next week. Maybe week after that." Maybe even later than that was implied but not said. None of them wanted to contemplate it.

Tetsu moved up to the head of the bed, watching his brother with concern stark on his face and sharp in his eyes. Ogiwara had known how hard it was for Tetsu to stay away from the hospital for as long as he had, even though he had promised Taiga that he would take some time off and try to relax. All through their dinner (Ogiwara had treated Tetsu to one of the better ramen stands near his workplace), Tetsu had kept glancing away down the street, eyes distracted and far away. Ogiwara had not minded his inattention, just did his best to drag Tetsu's focus back to him with some stupid joke or comment, doing everything he could to make Tetsu laugh, smile, forget all of this awfulness for even a few seconds at a time.

Ogiwara was immensely proud of every tiny success he'd managed on that front. And he'd managed a good number of them.

"You got a prognosis?" Tetsu asked. He had kept his promise and hadn't even phoned the hospital to find out how the check ups had gone. But he was almost shaking, now, with eagerness to know.

Taiga shrugged with one shoulder. His hospital gown slid off to reveal his collarbone, somehow stark under his skin. "Kind of, I guess. They didn't really give a firm figure. I guess they can't, with injuries like this. I wanted to know exactly when I'm gonna get out of here and get back to practice, but..."

"It was vague, huh?" Ogiwara asked. He sidled closer to the bed, leaning against the rail on his hip. Taiga's hand was resting limply on the covers just a handspan away. Ogiwara fought the urge to grab it, not sure how the gesture would be received. He and Taiga had gotten pretty close over the past couple of years, with all the visiting back and forth and overnight stays and movies and pizza and video games, but Ogiwara wasn't sure if they were that close.

Taiga nodded. His eyes slipped away, staring wistfully out the window. "I wanna play basketball." His voice was soft, thready with longing. It made Ogiwara ache.

Tetsu swayed where he stood. It had to be much, much worse for him to hear Taiga like this, see him like this. "You'll get to play again soon," he said, fierce and sure.

"I dunno." Taiga eyes returned, staring at Tetsu. Or through him. "The way the doctors acted..."

Tetsu caught his breath, sudden horror leaping into his throat and making his adam's apple bob. "What...what are saying...? Is...something permanent...?"

Taiga blinked. "No." His eyes had been vague and distant, but he suddenly focused on Tetsu again. He frowned, and the tendons on his neck stood out as he tensed, pouring effort into reassuring his little brother. "No, that's not what I meant. Don't look so terrified. They didn't say anything about permanent damage. No paralysis, nothing like that. Just a little..."

Tetsu stared at him without blinking.

Taiga sighed. "The nerves in my legs. My reflexes are a little haywire, okay? They didn't react right to the tests. But the specialist said it's probably not permanent. Just might...just might take some time to heal. Maybe...a while. I'm pretty sure... I'm pretty sure I'm gonna miss the Winter Cup. At least."

Screw it. Ogiwara wanted to hold his hand. He reached out and took it, not surprised to find that Taiga's palm was cool and clammy in his grip. Taiga didn't draw away. If anything, he held Ogiwara's hand back, loose but steady.

"Oh, Taiga-nii..." Tears stood in Tetsu's eyes.

Taiga frowned at him even more fiercely. "Hey," he said, his voice strong for the first time since Ogiwara and Tetsu had arrived. "Hey, stop that. I'm fine. I'm going to be fine. I wouldn't have told you if I had known you were gonna start crying. You're not supposed to cry for me."

"I'm not crying." Tetsu raised his fists and rubbed them against his eyes, angrily denouncing the tears. "Don't be an idiot, Taiga-nii. I'm not gonna cry."

Taiga stared at him in concern, not speaking. Ogiwara squeezed his hand. Taiga squeezed back absently, his entire being still focused on his little brother.

"I just..." Tetsu lowered his fists and looked Taiga in the face again. "I just...really wanted... I really wanted to play in the Winter Cup with you. You, and Seirin, and everyone else... Our last Winter Cup..."

Taiga's face twisted in pain. "I know. I really wanted to play with you, too."

Tetsu had to turn away, hiding his face. "I'm sorry..." He voice was wet and muffled. "I'm not crying."

Ogiwara knew how much Tetsu wanted to be strong right now. He wanted Taiga to be able to trust him, to lean on him. This must be so frustrating. Tetsu had even mentioned during dinner, briefly, that it was possible that Taiga might have to miss the Winter Cup. He had seemed morose at the time, but not overwrought.

But it was different hearing the same thing in reality instead of just an empty conjecture. Just because you saw a blow coming didn't mean it couldn't tear you apart when it landed. Ogiwara swallowed against the lump in his throat and reached out his other hand to lay it between Tetsu's shoulder blades.

"The Winter Cup is special to you both," he said thickly. "I was there for your first one, remember? The last game, anyway. I know how important that tournament was to you. To your team, to your friends. Everyone."

Tetsu's head shivered, like Nigou shaking off the rain. "Taiga-nii was such a hero."

Taiga laughed. The sound seemed to tear at something deep in his chest. "So was Tetsu-chan."

Tetsu finally mastered himself. He turned back to look in Taiga's face, mouth set and eyes sharp. "You're still a hero. You always will be. Missing a single basketball tournament isn't going to change that."

Taiga blinked at him.

Tetsu nodded, hard, just once. "You're my hero, Taiga-nii. You'll be my hero forever, no matter what."

Taiga cast a helpless glance to Ogiwara, his eyes begging. What am I supposed to do with this?

Ogiwara smiled and squeezed his hand. "You shouldn't say such embarrassing things all the time, Tetsu. No one knows how to react to them."

Tetsu switched his stare to Ogiwara, his blue eyes bright and shining in the harsh hospital lighting. "It's true, though. I'm just stating a fact."

"I know." The corner of Ogiwara's mouth twisted upward. "I know, Tetsu. Of course. You say what you have to say. You always do."

Tetsu looked back to his brother. "You believe me, Taiga-nii?"

Taiga nodded, but there might have been some hesitation there.

Tetsu leaned a little closer to him. He placed one hand on the bed so he could loom over into Taiga's space, getting up close to him. His face and his eyes, fierce and shining and bright, were something strange and beautiful to behold. "I don't care what you lost, Taiga-nii. I'm sad not to play our last high school tournament together, of course. I always will be sorry that we missed that opportunity. But it doesn't matter. You're my big brother, and you're amazing, and you saved my life, and nothing will ever change that. You're my hero even when you're sick and weak and stuck in a hospital bed, and I will always, always respect you and honor you for who you are."

"Tetsu-chan..." Taiga's voice was faint and breathless. "So...embarrassing..."

Tetsu shook his head, refusing to allow this. "Let me finish. I need you to know. I need you to know that none of this matters, not really. It's just a test we have to go through. Like a dark tunnel. It's cold and it's painful and it feels like we're walking on broken glass, but it's not forever. We just have to get through it, that's all. At the end of the tunnel there's light and there's a park and people are playing basketball and Dad is making barbecue, all right? We just have to get to the end of the tunnel, that's all. So hold on. Hold on to me and hold on to Dad and hold on to everyone else, and we'll bring you through this. I swear we will. It might take a while, but we're going to make it. Everything is going to be okay."

Taiga stared at him, unable to look away. For a long moment, no one spoke. Then Taiga's lips moved. "But what if..."

Tetsu closed his eyes and shook his head, leaning back out of Taiga's space again. "No. None of that matters. I don't care. We're going to get through the tunnel."

"But you don't know..."

"I don't need to. Whatever you're thinking of, whatever is troubling you, I swear it doesn't change the facts. You are my hero, and you are strong, and we are going to survive this test together."

Taiga opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Tetsu’s face softened all of sudden, like a muscle relaxing after a difficult task. "Whatever is bothering you, of course I want to hear what it is. I want you to tell me everything. But I need you to know before you start that nothing is going to change my mind about this. You understand?"

Taiga was still for a long moment. Then he nodded. "I understand."

He looked to Ogiwara again, but this time it was more conspiratorial and familiar. Can you believe this kid? What a guy, am I right?

Ogiwara grinned at him. I know.

Out loud, though, he just said, "I'm glad."

Then he turned to Tetsu. "Oh, that's right! Didn't you have some takeout you wanted to give him?"

Tetsu startled. It had completely fled his mind. "Oh. Yes! Taiga-nii, Ogiwara-kun and I ate at a wonderful ramen stand, and they had really good take-home bowls, and I know you haven't been enjoying the hospital food very much, so I thought..." He was already moving off to the corner where they had stashed their jackets and other things when they came in the door.

Taiga looked to Ogiwara again, his eyes relieved. "Thank you."

Ogiwara smiled. “No problem. Anything for a friend.”

When it came to coping with Tetsu being alternately incredible and ridiculous, he and Taiga were in it together.

"Muro-chin, you're not my Aniki."

Aniki sighed. "You have to go back to Akita, Atsushi."

"No." Murasakibara crossed his arms over his chest. "I refuse."

"You're going to get expelled. I saw the message from Yosen. DId you really think it was wise to simply walk out of your school without telling anyone why? Not even your parents?" Aniki was trying to use his reasonable voice. Taiga didn't understand why. He was pretty sure that the reasonable voice never worked on Murasakibara.

"You can't tell me what to do."

"I'm not telling you what to do. I am...very kindly...trying to advise you on what would be the best decision to make in order to prevent your future from disintegrating like a bad piece of tofu."

Murasakibara made a face at this analogy, his face screwing up as if he was faced in reality with such a travesty against food. "Muro-chin is so mean," he muttered.

Aniki closed his eyes and rubbed his temples with his fingers.

Taiga tried not to grin too blatantly at them both. Really, it was nice of Murasakibara to want to stick around and take care of him. But Taiga already had so many wanna-be caretakers and companions that he was starting to feel a bit stifled. Even Akashi...

Especially Akashi, if Taiga stopped to think about it. Which he didn't. Because it was too weird.

Murasakibara turned his sulky face to Taiga, then, his eyes large, bottom lip pooching out. "But Kaga-chin wants me to stay, right? Haven't I been helpful and reliable? You always thank me when I help you."

Taiga hesitated. He didn't want to hurt the giant toddler's feelings. And it was true that it had been nice to have Murasakibara there when he needed help with certain things. Like sitting up. Somehow Murasakibara had figured out a way to get Taiga upright without hurting him even a little bit. Not even a twinge. It was kind of a miracle.

But Taiga couldn't keep him away from his school and his life. Not for such a petty reason. "You have, big guy," he said after a moment. "Really and truly. You've been very helpful and reliable, and I'm grateful to you. Tetsu-chan is, too. But if I'm gonna get stronger, get better so I can play basketball with everyone again, I gotta start taking care of myself. Physical therapy is gonna start tomorrow. I need to learn how to get up on my own again."

Murasakibara's eyes were large and trembling with a surfeit of feeling. "But I don't want you to have to sit up by yourself when it hurts you. I...I don't like seeing Kaga-chin hurt. I don't like it."

Taiga sighed. "I know, big guy. I don't want you to be bothered by it, either. But this is the way it’s got to be, right? You know how important it is to practice so you can keeping winning basketball. And now I have to...I have to practice sitting up again. You guys can't help me anymore. So if it's gonna hurt you to see that... I don't want you to see it. You should go back to Akita."

And man, it really stuck in his craw to talk like that, to admit that he was going to have to practice just sitting up on his own. How pathetic was that? But it was the truth, no matter how much it pained him to say it.

Murasakibara looked like he was about to cry. His eyes gleamed suspiciously, and his arms unfolded from around his chest and slid down to his sides where they hung limply, his shoulders slumping. Taiga's heart hurt at the sight, but he couldn't help it. He had to be honest. And he had to do whatever it took to get Murasakibara to go back to school.

"I want to stay." Murasakibara's voice was quiet and serious. It was a very strange tone to hear from him. "Akita is too far away."

"I know, buddy. I know." Taiga held out a hand to him. Murasakibara shuffled closer to the bed and took it, making Taiga's hand all but disappear into his massive paw. (And Taiga's hand was not exactly small.) Taiga managed to wrap his hand around three of Murasakibara's fingers and gave them a squeeze. "It would be great if you could stay. Really. Tetsu-chan would like it, too. But you have to go back to school. Your team needs you. You gotta come back in a month and win the Winter Cup, don't you?"

Mura's nose wrinkled. "It won't be the same without Kaga-chin."

"No. But I'll be in the stands, cheering you on." Taiga's mouth curled in a grin. "Unless you're against Seirin at some point, of course. You know I gotta root for my school and my little brother."

Mura nodded solemnly. "Of course. I would too."

Aniki laughed, the sound bright and somehow brittle. "You would root against your own school, Atsushi?"

Mura squinted at him. "I like Kaga-chin and Tetsu-chin more than I like my teammates. So if I was in the stands, yes, I would root for Seirin." He turned a fierce glare back on Taiga. "But on the court, I don't want to lose."

Taiga grinned. "Good. You have to give it everything you've got, or it doesn't mean anything. But my little bro and his team are still gonna beat the pants off you."

Mura's lip curled. "I'd like to see them try."

"That's the spirit."

Aniki patted Murasakibara's arm, a light pat that just bounced right off his muscular forearm. "So you agree that you need to go back to Yosen and practice? So you can come back and win the Winter Cup?"

Mura pulled in a deep breath, his chest seeming to expand for minutes on end. Then he forced it all out in a gigantic gusty sigh then blew Taiga's hair back from his face. Taiga squinted his eyes against the scent of far too many snacks, sweet and salty and sour and bitter. "I guess. Muro-chin and Kaga-chin might have a point. Maybe."

"That's the spirit."

After another few seconds of holding hands, Murasakibara made a noise of disgust in the back of his throat and pulled free. "Okay. Done now."

Taiga grinned up at him. "Done with Tokyo?"

"No." Murasakibara frowned. "Done holding hands."

Taiga refrained from laughing at him, knowing it would hurt. The big guy was so obtuse sometimes. It was fun to mess with him, but most of the time he didn't even know he was being messed with. Well, and when he did know, he got extremely angry. So maybe it was better this way.

Aniki put a hand on Murasakibara's shoulder and started to steer him toward the door. "Do you need help packing up?"

Murasakibara shrugged lethargically. It was like a slow-motion landslide. "I didn't bring anything. Just got on the train."

Taiga squinted at him. "Wait a second, how did... Did Tetsu-chan do laundry for you?"

Murasakibara frowned at him, not in displeasure, just confusion. "Hnh. Don't know. But my clothes were clean in the morning when I got up? Maybe Tetsu-chin did wash them. Or Hiroshi-san. It's not like I cared."

Aniki snorted. "Well, it's a good thing somebody cared. Or we all would have ended up caring. A lot."

Murasakibara wrinkled his eyebrows at him.

"When you started to stink, Atsushi," Aniki clarified. "We would have cared when you started to stink."

"Whatever. I guess I have to go say good-bye to Tetsu-chin, too." Murasakibara heaved an enormous sigh, looking extremely put-upon. "We didn't even do anything fun like go to a festival or a good restaurant. What a waste of a trip."

"I'm still glad you came," Taiga said.

Murasakibara went still for moment, staring at him. "Me too."

Aniki swallowed. Then he thumped his fist against Murasakibara's back. "Go back to the apartment, Atsushi. Say good-bye to Tetsu-chin and Hiroshi-san. Then get on a train. Do you want me to come with you and see you off?"

"No." Murasakibara's voice went low and petulant. "I'm not a baby. I can take care of myself."

He thumped away. But at the door of the room, he paused, looking back at Taiga one last time. "Be careful, Kaga-chin. You can't take care of yourself right now. You have to let Muro-chin and Tetsu-chin be kind to you."

Taiga's throat went dry. After a moment, though, he managed to work up enough spit to talk. "Okay. Have a good trip, buddy."

"Bye bye. See you soon."

Murasakibara was gone. Taiga stared at the door he'd left through for a few seconds, inexplicably at a loss. It wasn't like he and Murasakibara were that close. When the big guy came around, Taiga was mostly happy if he just managed to keep him from eating the Kagami family out of house and home. And of course it was good to see Tetsu-chan smile when his friends were around. But other than that, and basketball, Taiga and Murasakibara didn't have a lot of common ground.

But still, since he had regained his full memory, Taiga had been aware of this...like...shield of people he knew and trusted completely surrounding him, always keeping him safe. His family was the most integral to that, of course, but so were his teammates, past and present. And somehow Tetsu-chan's old comrades had become his, too, in a weird way. With Murasakibara's departure, it felt like a little piece of safety had been removed from Taiga's life.

A chink in the armor. The analogy was uncomfortable in the extreme, but Taiga couldn't get the image out of his head.

Aniki sighed and sat down beside the bed again, staring up at the ceiling with exhaustion plain on his face. "Why does that idiot always take so much energy?"

Taiga grinned. "He's your old teammate, and you're the one who persists in taking care of him whenever you two are within two kilometers of each other. You have no one to blame but yourself."

"Someone has to do it." Aniki blinked at the ceiling, then lifted his head to look Taiga in the face again. "He has grown up some lately, though. I was surprised by how good he was with you in that first day or so when everything was so difficult for you."

"Yeah." Taiga looked away. It was embarrassing to remember how overwrought and panicked he had been then. But still, there was that sense of safety and comfort when he looked back at that time. He had felt okay letting go like that because he knew he could trust the people around him to handle it. And Murasakibara had been one of them.

Taiga looked at his brother. "When are you going to take off, then?"

Aniki stared at him for a moment, unblinking. "...Take off?" His voice was blank.

Taiga made a loose gesture with his hand. "Yeah. You know. Get back to your life. School and stuff. I'm fine now, so you can get back to the important things anytime."

A small frown graced Aniki's face. "Taiga, I'm in university. Yeah, my classes can be tough and I have a lot of coursework to do, but my time is basically my own. I can shift my schedule to accommodate whatever aspect of my life is the most important. And right now, that's you."

Taiga gaped at him. "You can't be serious."

"I am." Aniki sat forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his knees. "Hiroshi-san and Tetsu-chan will both need to go back to work and school. Tetsu-chan can't neglect his studies, and Hiroshi-san all but admitted to me that he is in a bit of hot water with his bosses and he needs to make it up to them. So who's going to help you with physical therapy and all the other difficulties that you need to deal with now? Me."

"No, Aniki." Taiga shook his head, then kept shaking it. "No, c'mon. You don't have to do that. You have...you have stuff. You have studies, too. And your basketball team, and your own life, and...and everything."

Aniki nodded slowly. "Yes, all of that is true. But you're part of my life, Taiga. I know I neglected you a bit this past year. When I moved back to Tokyo, I said that we would make time to hang out together and catch up and play basketball, but somehow I never bothered to make sure we actually did that. And then when Akashi..."

He looked away for a moment. His hands clenched into fists, then loosened again, then clenched and loosened a second time. He looked back to Taiga, and his face, usually so calm and smooth and relaxed, was twisted up in pain. "I know you have no way to know this, but we were all very worried about you. We still are. Including Akashi. He was the first of us to see you, besides Tetsu-chan, and when he called me to tell me what happened...

"He said I was his first call. Because I was your brother, and I needed to know. Akashi's voice was... Agony. It was agony and terror in his voice. He was trying to keep it hidden, trying to be strong and in control, like always. But seeing you in the hospital like this scared him profoundly, and hearing his voice scared me, too. He sounded awful. The first thing out of his mouth was, 'It's about Kagami Taiga. It's bad news.' And I thought...

"I thought you were dead, Taiga. I thought you got hit by a bus or something like that, and Tetsu-chan and Hiroshi-san couldn't bear to call me, so Akashi was doing it instead. I'm not ashamed to say that I fell down. I had been standing at a counter, waiting for a coffee order, and when I heard Akashi's voice saying those words, I just sat down right there on the floor. My legs buckled, and there I was on the floor. I could barely breathe." His lips twisted in a strange little smile. "Akashi should have warned me to sit down first, I suppose. Isn't that what people do in movies? But he didn't. And that little bit of thoughtlessness, more than anything else, should tell you just how disturbed he was."

Taiga couldn't stand to look in Aniki's face anymore. He was seeing things there that he had never imagined, never suspected. He looked away, swallowing hard at the lump in his throat. What was he supposed to do with this? It was all too much.

"I'm not saying this to make you feel bad," Aniki said. His voice was low and gentle, and Taiga believed him. "That's not my intention at all. I can see that it bothers you to hear me talk like this, and I'm sorry for that. But I need you to understand. You are my brother, and you are precious to me. Learning of your injury, of you being attacked and wounded like this, was by far the most devastating news I have ever heard in my entire life. I might be lucky, I suppose, in that I never had worse news about someone I love. Because here you are, alive. And I am unutterably grateful for that.

"So don't ask me to go away, little brother. Don't ask me to go back to my 'life,' to activities and people I don't care about even a tenth as much as I care about you. I am here, and this is where I will stay, until I am completely convinced that you do not need me anymore."

Finally, finally, Taiga looked back to him. "That'll never happen," he muttered. He couldn't think of anything else to say.

Aniki smiled.

"Here, I've got the door. Just a little...slow down, Taiga, I'm right... There. There. Let's go find a place to sit."

Taiga's fingers tightened around Aniki's shoulder, holding with an iron grip. He knew his face was an ugly white color, and if anyone looked close they'd be able to see how tight his lips were, how desperate his eyes. He was putting everything he had into keeping his mouth shut, gritting his teeth. Only Aniki's strong shoulder and steadfast support was keeping Taiga upright, but he would not—he would not—come to this place on crutches. Or even worse, in a wheelchair like all the doctors had recommended. He could walk, dammit. Maybe he couldn't play, but he could at least...

He could at least walk. He could at least do that.

"There," Aniki said again, on the edge of a sigh. It had been hard work for him, too, getting Taiga all the way here. "We're here. The Winter Cup."

Taiga stared down at the stadium, struggling not to pant from the effort of climbing a few stairs and walking down the hallways to get here, the stands of the Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium. It was such a...a very different arrival than he was used to.

He hadn't come here in a school bus, surrounded by his team as they all chattered and laughed and rough-housed with each other to fight off the tension. He had come here in a taxi, accompanied by Aniki every step of the way as if he was small child who needed minding. And sure, he'd been in the stands before, watching rival teams take to the court to battle it out, but it had always been when his muscles were burning with exertion from just finishing a game himself, or twitching with anticipation for the game that was soon coming.

Now, his legs were shaking, his throat was aching, and his belly was on fire, but it was from nothing more than the journey to get here. Nothing to do with basketball at all. It was...it was pathetic.

"There." Aniki pointed off to the right. "That's the side where Seirin and Touou will be playing. Are you ready to go find a seat?"

Taiga nodded. He didn't trust his voice for speech. His hand tightened on Aniki's shoulder, though, fingers creasing in his puffy jacket sleeve, and Aniki nodded.

"Do you want to sit nearer to the front or the back?"

"Back."

Taiga had good eyes. He would be able to see everything he wanted to see from the back. And it was shameful, but he would rather... He would rather not be noticed, himself. He didn't want to distract his team. Tetsu-chan. They needed to concentrate on the game. It was going to be hard enough without them seeing him in the stands and getting put off by how weird and out of place he was.

Aniki nodded as if he understood perfectly. Maybe he did. "All right. Hold my shoulder as hard as you need to. We'll take it slow."

They walked. Slow, deliberate, careful. The nerves in Taiga's legs tingled and burned. The doctors said he was getting better, but he truly couldn't tell. He put a lot of effort into keeping his gait as natural as possible as they inched their way across the concrete floor to the plastic seats.

They finally made it. Aniki put them on an aisle, but he let Taiga take the inside seat. If anyone happened by who knew them, who would stop to talk them, Aniki would intercept it. He would offer that cool smile of his, so effortlessly charming, and supply whatever social niceties were necessary. Taiga wouldn't be forced to talk.

Taiga knew that this was what it was, and he didn't mind it. Well, maybe a little. Aniki was being protective, and a month ago, or a month after this, Taiga might have found it irritating. He was a man, dammit, he could deal with his own social interactions. But right now, he was grateful. He needed the protection, wordless and subtle. He needed his brother to look out for him. He hated that he needed it, but he was happy that he had it.

He wondered if this was how Tetsu-chan had felt two years ago when Taiga had put so much effort into taking care of him. He knew he'd been a lot less subtle than Aniki, too. As in, not subtle at all. Taiga remembered Tetsu-chan's exasperated sighs when Taiga told him to take a bath before going to sleep, or not to work so hard while he was feeling sick, or for pity's sake, just eat something, please. But Tetsu-chan had been grateful, too, as irritating as he had found it at times. Now, more often than not, he shoved Taiga away when he got too overbearing. But back then, Tetsu-chan had needed it, and he had known it.

It gave Taiga a little bit of insight into his little brother and what he had been going through back then, and he had it in him to be thankful. Just a little. Mostly he just hated the whole sorry situation, though.

Below, Seirin and Touou were moving on the court, going into warm-ups and stretches. Taiga couldn't help himself. He leaned forward in his seat, his hands clenching around his knees. He wanted to be down there so badly that he could almost taste it, the sweat on his skin, the copper buzz of anticipation in his mouth. He wanted to run down the court. He wanted to dunk the ball. He wanted to pat his kouhai on the head when they made good plays. He wanted to catch Tetsu-chan's passes.

He wanted to play. For a moment, tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, but he opened his eyes wider, staring at the court, until his eyes burned and the tears faded away. It was better to be angry than sad. How dare that woman not only torture her own child, but then attack Taiga, a stranger, when he had the temerity to interfere. How dare everything be so unfair. How dare the universe take all of this away from him.

The anger didn't last long, though. It never did. Taiga couldn't seem to keep up the energy for it, not for very long. It was too much work just to sit upright, to go through physical therapy every day, to sleep in a hospital bed far from his home and his family. Every time something troubled him, which was often nowadays, Taiga tried to drag up some anger to deal with it. That tactic had always worked for him in the past. Now, it was failing.

The ref blew his whistle, and then the tip off. Aomine got the ball, and down the court he ran. He had no mercy. Just because Seirin was missing their ace, that was no reason for Aomine not to play his fullest. Taiga was grudgingly grateful for that, in a way. Aomine going full-out, giving it everything he had, was miles better than that asshole Taiga had first met two and half years ago, the blue-haired, tanned-skin jerk who had said cruel things to Tetsu-chan, casually tearing him down and removing his foundation without seeming to care that he was doing it.

At least Aomine had fun when he played basketball now. Taiga had watched him enough, and played with him enough, to remember every step of the evolution between there and here. Now, in his third-year at Touou, Aomine was captain, and he was a good one. Instead of playing all but alone, revelling in his ability to stomp all over everyone else, including his teammates, he took pleasure in pulling others along with him. It had become a game for Aomine, all wrapped up in the larger game of basketball, a game in which he tried to elevate each of his teammates. He found true pleasure in drawing them into his plays so that they could enhance him and he could pull out their potential.

It was beautiful to watch, honestly. Aomine was especially fond of a first-year kouhai of his, a kid called Yamashita something-or-other. Yamashita had the potential to be an excellent power forward, with quick reflexes that let him duck under the guard of almost any opponent he faced. Aomine loved tag-teaming with him, letting Yamashita slip through a guard and passing to him, then getting into position while Yamashita distracted the opposing team. Then Yamashita passed to Aomine in the middle of a jump on the basket, and Aomine slammed the ball home.

Team play. Team dynamics. The kind of work that Seirin had all but perfected in Taiga's first year, and Touou had learned to do it, too. It was terrifying. It was gorgeous. And it was unstoppable.

Seirin fought hard. They never gave up. Captain Furihata kept them calm, kept them fighting, with Tetsu-chan and the other third-years supporting him. The second- and first-year players were good, too, but they had to substitute a lot in order to keep up with Touou's brutal pace. Tetsu-chan's passes were immaculate, as always, and he always knew when to stay in the shadows and when to step out of them for a moment to pull off a phantom drive or a shot on the basket. Taiga's heart thumped painfully in his chest as he watched them. They fought hard, relentlessly hard, and he loved them all for it.

But it wasn't enough. Even from way up here, Taiga could see the holes in their plays. The gap where he was supposed to be. They had only had a few weeks to practice without him, to try to close that gap, and they hadn't managed to do it. They never gave up, but in the end, it didn't matter. It wasn't enough. Seirin lost.

The two teams shook hands after the match. Taiga watched as Aomine stepped in front of Tetsu-chan and reached out with both hands. He wrapped his hands around Tetsu-chan's and held on for a moment, his grip as gentle as Taiga had ever seen it. Tetsu-chan stood there, panting, still regaining his breath after his last, desperate run on the basket which had ended in futility. But he looked up into Aomine's face, straight and forthright, and after a moment, he gave him a smile. Aomine smiled back, not quite an expression of happiness. But it was warm. His eyes were warm, his face was warm, and Taiga was sure that his hands, holding so gently, would be warm, too.

It was the last time Aomine and Tetsu-chan would face each other in an official basketball match, on a large court in front of hundreds of spectators. They would continue to play street basketball for as long as they both had legs, Taiga knew that, but it wouldn't be the same. Nothing was quite like fighting against your friends and rivals for the biggest title of the year.

Tetsu-chan was college-bound, heading for a degree in education. The university he was aiming for was small. It was renowned for its academics and future prospects for its students, but it didn't have a basketball team. Tetsu-chan was all right with that. His priorities had shifted a great deal in his last year of high school, though he had assured Taiga and the others repeatedly that he would always love to play. Aomine had a sports scholarship to one of the biggest universities in Tokyo. He and Tetsu-chan would never fight against each other in a tournament again.

Taiga still didn't know where he would be. There had been some talk of scholarships for him, too, had been for over a year, but now... He didn't know. Academics had never been his strong suit, but without his athleticism to rely on, maybe he should start studying harder. Just the thought made him tired and depressed.

He shook his head to dispel it and shifted his gaze to his big brother. "Aniki..."

Aniki smiled, small and kind. "You want to leave?"

Taiga nodded. It wasn't like he wanted to go back to the hospital, where a bunch of doctors and nurses were going to fuss at him for leaving for a few hours, even though he'd gotten permission to go. But he wanted to stay here even less. It just...the whole place made him too sad. All of his happy memories of this building felt tainted now. Even the air seemed heavy.

"Kagami!"

Ah, it was too late. Taiga looked up, his face already halfway to a furious blush. That was Takao's voice. He hustled up the steps toward them, raising both hands to wave at them. As if he was afraid that they would vanish into the air if he didn't catch them, hold them there.

Well, Taiga certainly wanted to.

Aniki half rose to his feet, already starting to step into the aisle to intercept Takao, try to quiet him down. Then Taiga saw the little figure trailing after Takao, and his hand shot out and grabbed Aniki's arm. Aniki halted in mid-motion, then looked back to Taiga, his eyebrows raised. Taiga tilted his head toward the person behind Takao, then gave Aniki a significant look.

"Ah." Aniki slowly lowered himself back to his seat. "I understand." They couldn't run now. It wouldn't just be rude. It might be hurtful.

Because here, right behind Takao's form and all but hidden in his shadow, was the little boy that Taiga would do anything to defend. Joji was looking around nervously, uncomfortable with even the sparse crowd that populated the early-tournament stadium. When Takao paused for a moment and looked back to him, waving a hand, Joji startled, then rushed to catch up with him. His hand reached forward and Takao reached back, smooth and easy, as if they did this all the time. As if it was normal now, after only a few weeks of living in the same house. Small hand slipped into bigger hand, and up the stairs they climbed to meet Taiga, Takao beaming like a sunrise, Joji wide-eyed and silent at his side.

"Hey, Kagami, Himuro." Takao finally reached their level and came to a halt, still grinning. He gave Aniki a nod of greeting, then focused on Kagami. "It's good to see you. How are you doing?" He looked down at his little friend, hand tightening around his. "It's good to see Taiga-nii, isn't it, Joji-chan? He's looking strong!"

Joji nodded solemnly, staring at Taiga without blinking. "Hello, Taiga-nii," he said softly.

Taiga smiled back as warmly and confidently as he could. "It's good to see you, Joji-chan. How do you like Kazu-nii's house? I bet it's fun there."

Joji nodded again, his eyes widening slightly. "It's always warm there," he said, wonder in his soft little voice. "And Kazu-nii's parents are kind and never hit anyone. Kazu-nii says I'm going to live with them from now on."

Taiga felt his smile falter, a lump rising in his throat, but he forced it back and smiled harder. "That's great, Joji-chan. I'm really glad you like it there."

Joji nodded, then glanced down toward the court, distracted. "Did you see the game?"

The question was so innocent. Joji had no idea what this game meant to Taiga, what it meant for him to be up here, sitting in the stands, instead of down there with his team. But for a moment Taiga had to close his eyes, reeling in his seat. "Yeah, Joji-chan," he said. "I saw the game."

Joji looked back to him, wonder in his face, his voice, every aspect of his being. "Tetsu-nii was cool, wasn't he? It was like... Like he was invisible! I couldn't even keep track of him, and I tried really hard! I wanted to watch him play so much, and Kazu-nii said we could, so..." Joji ran out of words, unable to do anything but shake his head in amazement. "Tetsu-nii was so cool." His voice dropped to a hush.

Taiga's smile came more easily for this. He was always happy to talk about how cool his little brother was. "Yeah, Joji-chan. Tetsu-chan is the coolest. I'm glad you got to see him play."

For the last time. This was the last time Tetsu-chan was going to play in an official game. All of the third-years would retire after the Winter Cup so they could concentrate on their studies. The last time...

And all Taiga had been able to do was watch. Sadness rose up in his chest again, so fast that it made him dizzy. His smile wavered, and he tried to hold it back, but he couldn't. He felt it slide away, irretrievable.

Joji stared at him, his little face still and solemn. A wrinkle of worry had appeared between his eyebrows, and his hands pressed together in front of his chest.

Ah, dammit. Joji could see Taiga's distress. Midorima had told him something about how observant Joji was, how good he was at reading emotions, but Taiga had forgotten. He should have tried harder to keep up that smile. But he couldn't seem to dredge it back up from the depths.

Takao's hand wrapped around Joji's shoulder, holding him steady. Joji glanced up at him, then looked back to Taiga. "I really want to see you play, too, Taiga-nii," he said quietly.

Taiga opened his mouth, then closed it again. His throat had gone as dry as a desert. "I..."

Aniki shifted in his seat, ready to intercede. But Taiga gave him a subtle shake of the head. His gaze flickered away from Joji for only a moment before he looked back to the child again. Joji deserved an answer from him, and Taiga wanted to give it.

"I want to play, too. And I will. I just need some time to get my strength back. The doctors say I'm getting better every day, and everyone has been taking good care of me. So of course I'll play again soon. Anything else would be impossible. Will you be patient and wait to see me?"

Joji nodded, slow and careful, with all the weight of a heavy promise. "I will, Taiga-nii. Get better soon."

"Thank you, Joji-chan. I'm sure I will."

But Taiga wasn't sure. He wasn't sure at all.

Takao and Aniki talked then. Taiga didn't hear the words, just the tone of their voices, the polite banalities, the unimportant chit-chat. His gaze had shifted down to the court again, watching as Seirin and Touou began to file out. He saw the upright postures and bouncing steps of the victors, the way they thumped each other on the back and shoved each other in excess of energy and happiness. Aomine's grin flashed, silver sharp, and it seemed to strike through Taiga's chest like a skewer. Aomine would be sorry if he knew, so Taiga would never tell him.

And he saw the slumped shoulders of his brother and his teammates, the way a hand lingered on a shoulder, offering comfort, the way two of the first-years had towels draped over their heads to hide their tears. All of the third-years were dry-eyed and grim, accepting. They had known this result was likely, and they had already come to terms with it, though they had never stopped fighting.

But the poor first-years... They had still held out hope. They had had faith in the strength of their senpai, even without their ace to push them over the top. They had been too naive, too innocent, or they would have been able to see the doom coming. It might have been better for them if they had.

Fate was cruel. And right now, in this moment, Taiga couldn't find the strength to fight it. Maybe he should accept the state of things, too.

Taiga was tired. When people asked him how he was doing (and they asked often), that was the only response that ever came to mind. I'm very tired. He couldn't bring himself to say it, though. They always looked at him with such hope in their eyes, hope for him. Wanting to hear that he was getting better, that he was healing well. He couldn't dash those hopes. So he would smile as genuinely as he could and just say that he was improving every day. That he was fine. Everything was fine. Everything was a-okay.

But...everything was just so exhausting. Even if he had wanted to, he didn't know if he would have been able to express how tired he felt, how drained and beaten down and scraped raw. All of the color seemed leached out of the world, faded into shades of gray and blue, as if his weariness was a film in front of his eyes that made everything difficult to see. And taste and smell and feel and experience.

He was home, now. That had been a good day, though, like every day now, it had been exhausting. The day he left the hospital for good. He had to ride in a wheelchair to the taxi, but he got into the vehicle on his own strength, even though his legs trembled a bit. Tetsu sat on his left side and Dad on his right, both so smiling and happy and sparkling with joy to be bringing him home that Taiga couldn't help but respond to it at least in a small way.

He was glad that his family was happy, even if he couldn't quite feel happy himself.

Back at the apartment... Well, that had been the most exhausting thing. Pretty much everyone was there, the Seirin team, most of the Generation of Miracles, some random classmates and senpai and old friends. Even Murasakibara had taken the train down from Yosen again, for some reason. It had been good to see everyone, and Taiga was grateful for the support and good wishes, he truly was. But it had been...a lot to deal with.

Even before the first guest had left, Taiga had excused himself to his room and lain down on his bed. Just for a little rest, he had told himself. But he woke up hours later to the sounds of Tetsu and Dad and Aniki cleaning up the apartment, the party long done. They told him not to worry about it, and they even apologized for not considering that he might not be ready for so much excitement. But Taiga felt bad. He had always taken pride in his hospitality, in making sure that every visitor to his home felt welcome and well cared for. Though he hadn't planned this party and hadn't asked for it or expected it, he felt responsible for it. His inability to care for his guests felt like another in a long line of failures.

But he was just...too tired.

No matter what he did, he couldn't shake the heavy weight of fatigue that seemed to dog his heels, closer than Nigou had ever been. Physical therapy was the hardest thing Taiga had ever subjected his body to, though he gave his all to every single session. Going to school took more strength than he could spare, too. Sometimes, if he was too sore or tired in the morning, he had to lean on a cane. Or even a crunch. He absolutely refused to use a wheelchair anymore, though. None of that.

Being retired from basketball was harder than he'd expected it to be, too. Taiga sometimes felt his eyes trailing over to the gym that had been his second home for so long, always feeling a sharp pang in his heart before he forced himself to look away. The way his high school basketball career had ended—in a hospital bed, his body damaged, unable even to compete in the most important tournament of the year—left him feeling cut off and dissatisfied. And no closure was possible. Even if he was able to play basketball again...even when...he wouldn't be able to play on the Seirin team anymore. That privilege was lost to him. Had been taken from him. Thinking about it made him tired, but he couldn't stop his thoughts from straying there again and again.

Classes were exhausting. Taiga tried to study for those all-important college exams, but focus was very difficult. Everyone was kind, everyone wanted to help—Tetsu, Dad, Aniki, the teachers—but Taiga just couldn't seem to understand. He'd never been great at academics, and now it was harder than ever. Concepts that should have been easy, or at least understandable, slid out of his mental grasp like they were coated in oil. Nothing stuck in his head. And it was all...so...exhausting.

The worst part, the part that truly made him want to cry almost every single day, was that being at home was exhausting, too. Taiga had never felt this before, and he didn't know how to deal with it. Interactions with his father and his big brother and his little brother... They should have been refreshing. Rejuvenating. He even remembered, quite clearly, how he had always been able to gain energy from being with his family. He loved them more than he could say, and spending time with them had always been an important and wonderful part of his life. But now, it made him tired.

Talking to them made him tired. Smiling at them made him tired. Looking at their worried expressions made him tired. Being with them made him tired.

Taiga didn't know what to do.

It was evening. The end of the another long day. When he come home, Taiga wearily took off his shoes and jacket in the entryway, calling a perfunctory "I'm home!" to his brother and dad. "Welcome back!" came their voices from the kitchen and the main room, but he didn't stop to greet them face-to-face, just plodded to his room. All he wanted to do was lie down.

He had eyes for nothing but his bed. As he entered the room, all else seemed to fade into insignificance. He dropped his schoolbag by the door and dropped down on the mattress, then curled up on his side with his face toward the wall. His mind sank almost instantly into a welcome buzz of meaningless noise and gray-white patterns. Please, just let it all go away.

For a while, it did. Taiga revelled in the quiet of his own mind, grateful for the reprieve. He didn't think about anything, didn't feel anything. He just existed. That was enough.

It couldn't last. All too soon, there was a gentle knock on the door behind him and the quiet clearing of a throat. "Taiga-nii? May I come in?"

Taiga grunted. He would never tell Tetsu stay away, even when deep down in his gut, he really wanted him to. That would be selfish, and Tetsu didn't deserve to be rejected. When Tetsu didn't move inside immediately, Taiga closed his eyes and breathed out a sigh into the blanket bunched up under his cheek. He guessed he would have to use words, not just grunts.

"Yeah. Come in if you want to."

Tetsu moved over to the bed, his footsteps barely audible, as if he was stepping lightly. "May I sit with you?"

"Sure."

The bed dipped as Tetsu sat on the edge of the bed. Their backs were almost touching—if Tetsu leaned back, he could lounge against Taiga like a kid. Like he had done pretty frequently, not that long ago, when Tetsu had still needed a lot of touch and reassurance to ground him, remind that he wasn't alone, that he didn't have to face his fears and his loneliness and his grief by himself anymore. Tetsu had healed a lot since then, but he still sometimes needed physical affection and kindness to help him over the rough spots.

He didn't lean back. Tetsu just sat there, close enough that Taiga could feel his warmth. "Aniki said you had a rough time at physical therapy today."

Taiga didn't want to think about it. Today had been...bad. He didn't want to burden Tetsu with it. Damn Aniki for telling him anyway, without Taiga's knowledge or consent. "Yeah."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Taiga said nothing.

He felt Tetsu's back move in a silent sigh. "Dinner will be ready soon. Do you want some food?"

"Maybe later."

A moment of silence. Then Tetsu seemed to gather up his courage to speak again. "I know you've been having a hard time lately, Taiga-nii. I wish I could help you more."

"There's nothing you can do. It's not your job, anyway."

Tetsu's back stiffened. Taiga all but heard his fists clench. Still, his voice remained neutral. "Taiga-nii. That's not true. And even if it was, this isn't a 'job' to me. I want to help you. I want that very much."

Taiga closed his eyes. He ached.

"Can you please..." Tetsu hesitated. "Please, Taiga-nii. I want... I want to be useful to you. So much. Can you please think about it and tell me what I can do? What you need? You've always been so kind to me, so very, very helpful whenever I need just about anything. I just...I really, really want to be able to do the same for you. Please think about it."

"Tetsu-chan." Taiga's voice was rough. He cleared his throat and tried again. Everything hurt. "Tetsu-chan. Please go away."

Silence.

Taiga tried again. "Did you hear me? I want you to go away. I want to be alone."

Tetsu barely seemed to breathe. Then, "No."

The word was low, barely above a whisper. But it seemed to cut Taiga to the heart. Tetsu didn't sound sad or hurt by the rejection. He sounded fierce.

Taiga curled up tighter, burying his head in the blanket. "It's what I want you to do for me," he mumbled. "You asked, right? That's what I want."

Tetsu was quiet for a moment. "It might be what you want. But I don't believe you if you say it is what you need."

"But I do. I need to be alone. I can't..." Taiga hesitated, breathing into the blankets that smelled of night sweat and funk. He should launder them. He didn't have the energy.

What could he say? How could convince Tetsu of this? What could he say that would reveal enough, but not too much? He didn't want to hurt Tetsu with this, with all of his junk. He just...wanted him to go away.

"I can't handle company right now," he said at last. It wasn't quite what he meant, what he felt, but it would have to do. "I want to be alone."

Tetsu's body heaved in a deep sigh. "You've been spending a lot of time alone lately, Taiga-nii. We've all noticed. You're withdrawing from everyone. From the world. I know what you're going through right now is overwhelming. I know it's a terrible burden, and you want to bear it alone and not let anyone else take it for you, because that's what you've always done. You shoulder your pain and carry on."

Taiga swallowed against the lump in his throat.

Tetsu was silent for a moment. Then he nudged Taiga's back with his hand, pushing him toward the wall. "Scoot over."

Confused, Taiga obeyed. He pulled himself closer to the wall, forced to uncurl his body a bit. As soon as there was room at his back, he felt Tetsu lie down next to him. Tetsu lay flat on his back, his head tilted toward Taiga's shoulder but not quite touching.

"Listen, Taiga-nii. I know what this is. I felt it too. After you took me away from my father's house."

Taiga jolted at the thought. "What? No." His entire body objected to the idea of comparing this, what he was feeling right now, to what Tetsu had felt after escaping years of abuse and a month of torture. "It's not the same at all. You can't... Tetsu-chan, what you went through... There's no comparison. What happened to you was so much worse than what happened to me that it's not even worth mentioning them in the same sentence."

Tetsu slapped his back. "Shut up, Taiga-nii. I'll compare if I want to. They're my experiences and I have a right to think about them however I want to. And don't you dare put yourself down. I know what happened to me is bad, but what happened to you is bad, too. Don't you dare try to convince yourself that you should be stronger, or that you're weak because you're having a hard time recovering from this."

Taiga shut his lips tight. That was, indeed, exactly what he'd been thinking. Tetsu had suffered for years. For Taiga... It had been a minute. Five minutes, tops. Taiga had no right to complain. None at all. So he didn't.

"Do you remember that first week right after I moved in with you? Do you remember the day Aomine-kun came to basketball practice, and I yelled at him and ran out into the rain rather than try to deal with my problems? You were worried about me because I wasn't acting like myself during that time."

Tetsu fell quiet, somehow expectantly, so Taiga made a noise of agreement. Yes, he remembered. Of course he did. He remembered almost everything about those tumultous few weeks.

Tetsu made a pleased noise at Taiga's participation in the conversation, however reluctant it was. "Yes, I know you remember. But do you know what I felt the most during that time? I don't think I ever told you."

Again, the expectant silence. "No," Taiga murmured after a while. "You never told me. What was it?"

"I was tired." The words were simple, voiced neutrally. But Taiga caught his breath. "I was so tired, Taiga-nii. I was shutting everything down so I didn't have to feel my own emotions, because I hurt so badly. And it took all of my energy. I had nothing left for anything else, including healing. What a waste it was. Thank goodness you and Aomine-kun and everyone else didn't let me stay like that."

Tetsu lay there for a while longer, just being there, sharing Taiga's space. Taiga listened to him breathe. He felt his own heart beating in his chest, slow and out of time. He wanted to lose himself in the static sounds of his own head again, but with Tetsu next to him, he couldn't bring himself to fade out. It would be rude, and...unkind. Taiga couldn't bear to be unkind to Tetsu, no matter what else was going on.

"Well." After a long interval, Tetsu pushed himself up to sitting and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "Dinner is starting to smell really good. I'm hungry. Come out when you're ready."

Before he left, he patted Taiga's head, soft and kind and gentle. Taiga closed his eyes and breathed his own scent, and he wished to be somewhere else. Anywhere else in the world.

"Is dinner almost done?" Tetsu asked.

Hiroshi nodded absently, his eyes still intent on the curry in the pot in front of him. He knew he didn't really have to watch the food the whole time, but it had become a habit now. There was something soothing about watching food cook, watching ingredients he had prepared come together under his hands to transform into a meal, something he could use to nourish his family.

He understood, now, why Taiga used to have such a territorial attachment to the kitchen, preferring to cook the meals himself whenever he had the time and only grudgingly letting Hiroshi or Tetsu try their hand at it. Taiga had found pleasure in the task, too, and of course, he enjoyed his food at least three times as much as anyone else did. But that had been...before.

Tetsu stepped to Hiroshi's side and leaned over to sniff the curry. "It smells good. You didn't add any weird spices this time, did you?"

Hiroshi shook his head, his mouth curling up at the corner. Tetsu's face had been hilarious the last time Hiroshi had dared to "tinker" with Taiga's favorite curry recipe and add a few spices that weren't on the list. Tetsu had scolded Hiroshi quite ferociously, for Tetsu, and made a solemn request for the next attempt to be more faithful to the original. Hiroshi had agreed, though he had laughed to himself about it afterward.

Ah, but they were all missing Taiga's recipes.

They were all missing Taiga.

Tetsu sighed and leaned back. "Good. My stomach can't take anymore abuse today."

Hiroshi turned to him in concern. "What do you mean? Are you not feeling well?" Almost by instinct, he reached out to feel Tetsu's forehead.

"No, that's not it. I'm fine." Tetsu allowed the touch, though he blinked solemnly at Hiroshi under his covering hand.

Tetsu’s forehead felt normal, and Hiroshi let his hand slide away. "What is it, then? Your stomach has been hurting today, isn't that what you said? Why?"

Tetsu frowned. "It's nothing physical. I'm just..." He looked away and scuffed his foot on the floor, then looked back to Hiroshi. "I'm just worried. It's worse today for some reason."

"Ah." Hiroshi looked back to the curry pot. "I know what you mean."

"It's not working," Tetsu said, his voice soft and serious.

Hiroshi didn't ask what he meant, what he was talking about this time. He knew.

"What we're doing isn't working," Tetsu said, though Hiroshi hadn't asked for clarification. "We have to change something. Aniki said... You heard what he said."

Hiroshi's eyes fell to the floor for a moment before he forced them back to the food again. His voice was almost inaudible. "Taiga said he'd had enough. At physical therapy. He's always given it everything he had, so much that the doctors had to tell him to slow down and take it easy in the beginning. But today, he told the therapist to stop. He said he was tired and he didn't want to do it anymore. He wanted to go home. And he left."

Tetsu's hand reached for him as if pulled by a string. He grabbed onto Hiroshi's forearm, fingers twisting in his sleeve, and clenched tight. "Taiga-nii never gives up." His voice was fierce, but Hiroshi heard the deep grief under it.

"But he did today."

"It's temporary. I'm sure of it. Tomorrow, he'll pull himself together and try again. But... What we're doing isn't working. We have to try something else."

Hiroshi turned away from the stove to face him fully. "Do you have some ideas? I will listen to anything you have to say."

Tetsu nodded, slow and solemn. "I don't think school is good for him."

Hiroshi blinked. "What do you mean?" He had known that Taiga was having a tough time at school, of course, that was obvious. But Taiga was having a tough time everywhere. Why had Tetsu singled out this as the first item on his agenda?

But then, Tetsu spent a lot more time with Taiga, and he saw how he was at school every single day. They weren't in the same classroom this year, unfortunately, but Hiroshi knew they still hung out and spent a lot of time together there, before Tetsu went to cram school in the afternoon. And Taiga went to physical therapy with Tatsuya.

Tetsu's fingers tightened in his sleeve. "It's not good for him. And I think it might be doing him harm. He just... It's so stressful for him, and though his teachers all want to help, none can really spare the time to explain things the way he needs them to. Taiga-nii has always learned the best when he's being tutored one on one with someone who can slow down and give examples for the concepts he doesn't understand. Someone who can tell when he's not getting it and will stop and help instead of having to rush on because the rest of the class is waiting. It's just... It's bad for him. He feels like a failure because he's not doing well, and the worse he feels, the less energy he has and the less he understands, and he keeps falling further and further behind. It's this...this endless feedback loop of failure and hopelessness, and I hate seeing him caught in it."

Hiroshi found himself nodding along. Yes, yes, this was all true. Now that he stopped to think about it, he could see that clearly. "So what do you suggest? Should Taiga drop out of school?"

Taiga bit his lip. He hadn't wanted to put it that way, obviously, but now that Hiroshi had come right out and said it...

"I think he would do better with independent study," Tetsu said after a moment. "As it is, Taiga-nii starts his day with more than eight hours of a place that only wears him down and makes him feel like a fool, and then right after that he goes and bears the hardest physical trial he's ever suffered. It's too much for him. No wonder that he's always exhausted and depressed in the evening, and none of us can cheer him up."

Again, Hiroshi nodded. This all made sense. He turned back to the curry and gave it a stir. "Could you get out the plates, Tetsu-chan?"

"Of course."

Hiroshi contemplated the curry while he listened to Tetsu set the table behind him. For the first time, he realized, he could imagine a way out of the mess they had all found themselves in. He hadn't noticed, but Taiga's obvious despair had begun to drag on him, too. Seeing his normally smiling and energetic son so quiet and downhearted for such a long time had made the entire house feel gloomy. If they could alleviate some of that, even a little... It would make such a huge difference.

Before they ate, Tetsu went back to Taiga's room one more time to ask if he wanted to join them. In just a minute he came back down the hall, sadly shaking his head. Hiroshi sighed, but he wasn't surprised. He and Tetsu sat across from each other and clasped their hands briefly over the food in thanks, then dug in.

"I'll have to do interviews," Hiroshi said, "to find a good tutor."

Tetsu hesitated, as if he was surprised that Hiroshi had already agreed to his plan. Hiroshi smiled at him, and Tetsu smiled back. Then he shook his head. "No need. I have a better idea."

Hiroshi raised his eyebrows. "You know a good tutor? We can't ask Tatsuya to do everything. He's already giving more of his time than he should."

"Hmm." Tetsu tilted his head thoughtfully. "Well, maybe he could. Once in a while. But actually, I was thinking of Akashi-kun. And Midorima-kun. And Kiyoshi-nii. And Hyuuga-nii. And anyone else who would be willing and able to give a few hours once or twice a week."

"Huh." Hiroshi ate a few bites of curry. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised that Tetsu already had a detailed plan laid out in his head. He'd obviously been thinking about this for a long time. It was like him to carefully plan something like this, going over every contingency again and again long before he even started to talk about it. "No, you're right. Taiga will do much better with people he already knows and trusts. But will he be willing to try it?"

Tetsu nodded. "I'm sure of it. I think Taiga-nii will do anything to be allowed to not go to school anymore. It's just... It's very painful for him, Dad."

Hiroshi's heart twisted in his chest. "I know," he murmured. "Thank you for being so thoughtful and kind, Tetsu-chan. You've put a lot of effort into this plan."

Tetsu smiled shyly. "It's important to me."

"I know." Hiroshi concentrated on his food for a little while, thinking deeply. Eventually, he looked up at Tetsu again. "What else do you think we should change?"

Tetsu set his spoon down by his half-empty plate and folded his hands in front of him. He faced Hiroshi seriously, as if he was in the office a head boss making a business proposal. The pose suited him, and Hiroshi's heart gave an obscure little pang. Tetsu was growing up. So fast. He wanted to turn back the clock.

For both of his children.

"I think we should see if we can get Taiga-nii's physical therapy moved to the morning," Tetsu said. "Aniki might have to rearrange his schedule a bit to accommodate him, but I'm sure he'd be willing to try. That way, Taiga-nii can work on the most demanding part of his recovery in the morning, when he's the most fresh. Then, in the afternoon after he's had time to rest and settle his mind, those of our friends and relations who are willing and able can come by and help him with academics."

Hiroshi nodded. "Excellent. These are excellent ideas, Tetsu-chan."

Tetsu hesitated before the next part, then plunged on. "Also, I think we need to start insisting."

"About him eating with us? Even if he's just going to sit at the table and look sad?"

Tetsu grimaced, but he didn't disagree. "About a lot of things. He feels like a failure right now, useless, unneeded. It's nonsense, but it's how he feels. We need to start counteracting that. We need to treat him like himself, even if he doesn't feel like himself. Eventually, he'll have to respond."

Hiroshi nodded. "Yes. It's been too easy to just let him do whatever he wants when we’re at home, especially since he's so exhausted and unhappy most of the time. But if he has something to do, it will take his mind off his troubles. I'll talk to him about doing the laundry again. It's an easy chore, so it won't take too much energy, but hopefully he'll start to feel like he's contributing to this family again."

Tetsu's face became strangely intense. "You should talk to him about cooking again, too."

Hiroshi laughed. "You really miss Taiga's food, don't you?"

Tetsu looked away.

"It's okay." Hiroshi grinned, soft and warm. "I do too. I miss..."

He stopped. He missed a lot.

Tetsu nodded. "I'm glad you're so accepting of my ideas."

"Of course." Hiroshi ate a few more bites of food. He hit a chunk of meat that was badly charred and coughed. "You're not the only one who has been unsatisfied with the state of things, Tetsu-chan. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I'd been hoping for something to change, too. But somehow... I guess I had hoped for that change to come from Taiga."

Tetsu's lips twisted in grief. "You wanted him to just spontaneously turn a corner and start being happy again. To be himself."

"Yes. But...you are completely correct. It's taking too long. We'll have to go in after him and drag him out. I want my son back."

Tetsu closed his eyes for a moment, his shoulders loosening, his back slumping. He had been sitting straight and tall, facing Hiroshi like a peer, but now he allowed himself to be a boy again. He was relaxing all at once, safe under his father's protection. Again Hiroshi's heart gave a little pang, but he was glad to see this subtle shift. He still had time.

"When do you think we can start changing things?" Tetsu asked.

"Immediately." Hiroshi pushed away his plate and stood up. "I'm going to call the school right now and let them know that Taiga won't be coming in tomorrow."

Tetsu blinked and turned his head to follow Hiroshi as he moved. "There won't be anyone there this late in the day."

"I'll leave a message."

Hiroshi was impatient to begin. He knew they still had a long road ahead of them, a lot of things that needed to change, that needed to be done. But now, with Tetsu's plan, there was hope in his heart and a spring in his step.

Enough waiting. Taiga wasn't going to just suddenly get better on his own. They had to help him. And now that Hiroshi had an idea of how they could do it, it was the only thing he could think about it and it was all he wanted to do.

Tetsu felt sick. He and Taiga were in the hallway, slowly walking toward the apartment. Toward home. Tetsu's arm was wrapped around Taiga's neck, his shoulder bent at an uncomfortable angle as Taiga held him up. Tetsu leaned into Taiga's side and let his eyes fall half shut. He moved his feet, but Taiga bore most of his weight.

"I think you should stay home from school tomorrow." Taiga's voice sounded distant. Tetsu's vision was hazy, starting to white out wherever there was a light source. He blinked. Weariness dragged at him, and every limb felt as heavy as lead.

"I don't want to go to the hospital," Tetsu murmured.

Taiga sighed. "I know. Do you want a bath first, or food?"

Tetsu didn't have the capacity for that kind of decision-making. "Sleep."

"That too."

Something about this conversation seemed awfully familiar, but mixed up, too. Tetsu blinked again. The apartment door loomed in his sight. Somewhere to the side, Taiga's hand was reaching for the lock. He was holding a key. Dread locked up Tetsu's throat. Doors...doors were dangerous...

"No, Taiga-nii, don't open the door..."

The key had already turned in the lock. Somehow they were inside the apartment now, though Tetsu couldn't remember moving. But the apartment was...wrong. It wasn't as bright as it should be; it didn't feel as comfortable. It wasn't right, it wasn't home.

Then a monstrous face loomed into Tetsu's vision, and he gasped and fell back. Father. It was Father. He got in, he got in, he'd been waiting for them. He saw Tetsu and smiled. It dragged his face into strange shapes, his expression contorting like that of a demon. "Tetsuya. It's time to go home. I'll never let you leave again."

"No!" Tetsu wanted to shout, but his voice was strangled. He flailed out, trying to grab Taiga's arm, but he couldn't feel his brother's presence anymore. His fingers clawed at the wall, and sharp pain shot up his arm. "No, don't! Please!"

Father reached out for him, his hands huge and strong, growing larger and larger in Tetsu's sight until they were all he could see. He gasped and flung his arm over his face to protect himself, even though he knew that it would only make it worse. It would just make Father angry if he resisted, he shouldn't fight, he shouldn't...

He couldn't help it. He had to fight. He had to get back to his home, his real home, the place where he belonged. Not here, not wherever this was, not with this person who only hurt him and hurt him, over and over again.

His fist lashed out and struck something hard, and Tetsu gasped at the shock of it. Then he woke, still flailing, covered in sweat. His body was twisted half up on his side. He had punched the wall.

The room was dark. Tetsu panted for breath, his mouth gaping, and stared at the emptiness. It had been a while since he'd had that dream. Why now? He wasn't anxious for himself right now, just for Taiga. His father had nothing to do with it. He was far away, and he'd never been in this place. The dream had never happened. It was just the terrified delusion of a mind still scarred by events from years ago.

"It didn't happen," Tetsu whispered. "It didn't happen. It didn't. It didn't. It never did."

Sometimes the words helped. They didn't now. Tetsu sat up and untangled the bedclothes that had gotten twisted around his body. His shoulders shuddered as his breath gradually calmed.

He got to his feet and moved toward the closet. His hands shook in the air, vibrating with need. He knew it was a bad habit, but he had to check. He had to know. He pushed the clothes aside and stared at the wall, lit feebly by winter moonlight coming in the window. No belt. No hook. The wall was empty.

Tetsu clutched at his chest. He went back to his desk and picked up his phone, still attached to the charger. He opened the message and looked at the text from Takao.

>>Everything's fine. All the windows and doors are locked. Are you okay?

He didn't check with Takao every night, just when he got the urge. He was glad he had done it tonight, so he could read the text again now. Joji was safe. That woman was still out there, but he was safe. Takao had locked the doors.

Doors could be dangerous. But they weren't, not here, not in Tetsu's home. He moved to the door of his room and stared at it for a moment. He'd left it open a crack when he went to bed, as he sometimes did, just in case...

The house was quiet. Tetsu put his hand in the crack and pushed the door open. In the doorway, he wavered, then turned abruptly on his heel and went back to his bed to fetch his pillow. His hands were still shaking. That was usually a bad sign.

It had been months since he'd done this, but it still felt familiar. His feet took him into the hall and down the few steps to Taiga's room as if they knew the way intimately. He hesitated with his hand on the door for a moment and listened for any sign from within. He thought he could hear Taiga breathing, but that was all.

The air was quiet and still. Tetsu moved into his brother's room, then planted his feet on the floor shoulder-width apart and just stood there. He hugged his pillow to his abdomen and stared at Taiga. It was still strange to see Taiga sleeping like this, curled up on his side with his face to the wall, his shoulders hunched as if he was protecting himself. Before he was wounded, Taiga had always slept on his back, limbs sprawled and mouth agape.

Tetsu understood the change. He didn't like it, though.

Taiga used to sleep lightly, too. When Tetsu came into his room on nights like this, after a bad dream had stolen his sleep, Taiga usually woke on his own. Sometimes, Tetsu had to confess, he made a little noise to help him along. If he was feeling particularly lonely, particularly vulnerable after the dream had stripped him bare, he would scuff his feet along the floor, knock his knuckles on the wall, cough and clear his throat. That was usually all it took.

Taiga would open his eyes and look at him, read the pain in his face, and reach out. He would grab Tetsu's wrist and pull him in to lie beside him on the bed. He would put his arm around him and tell him everything was okay now, it was just dream, and ask if he wanted to talk about it. Tetsu usually refused, but that didn't mean he didn't appreciate the effort. He always did.

Taiga almost always fell back to sleep before Tetsu did on those nights, but Tetsu didn't mind. He would lie there, curled up in Taiga's big bed, feeling his warmth beside him. He would listen to Taiga's calm, steady breathing, strong and smooth and completely at peace. He would feel the safety and the goodness of being home, of being where he belonged. And he would sleep well till morning and wake refreshed.

Taiga slept heavily now. He seemed grateful to sink into sleep each night and reluctant to rise in the morning, another reversal from the way things used to be. Tetsu doubted that he would wake to any soft or gentle noises, and he didn't want to shake Taiga or otherwise demand his attention when he was already so worn out.

Maybe he should go see Dad instead. Dad had trouble sleeping sometimes, Tetsu knew, so he might already be awake. Even if he wasn't, he wouldn't mind Tetsu waking him. But somehow, it wasn't what Tetsu wanted. He loved his dad and trusted him absolutely, and he was always happy to get a hug or a snuggle from him. But this was tradition. When he had a bad dream, he went to Taiga. And Taiga always helped.

Well, maybe he didn't have to wake him. Maybe... Tetsu stepped closer a little hesitantly, then with more confidence. He placed his pillow on the bed next to Taiga's, then pushed on his back with both hands. It took some effort, but he managed to shift Taiga's dead weight closer to the wall. Then he climbed in to the bed and lay on his back next to him, looking up at the ceiling with a sigh of relief.

Yeah, this was what he needed. It didn't matter that Taiga was asleep. He just needed to be here.

It didn't matter that the previous evening had not gone all that well, where Taiga was concerned. After Dad had decided to follow all of Tetsu's suggestions, Dad and Tetsu had come back to Taiga's room to talk to him about the changes that were soon going to take place. Tetsu remembered his heart beating faster in hopeful anticipation. Maybe this was what they needed. Maybe all Taiga needed was a little push, an indication that they were on his side and working for his betterment, to reignite that spark in his eye.

It hadn't gone like that. Taiga had sat up on the bed to face them only after quite a bit of prompting, and Dad's voice actually had to go slightly stern. Taiga was sullen when he finally moved. Tetsu sat next to him on the bed while Dad sat in Taiga's desk chair to face them, and he told Taiga the news.

"We're going to try something different," he said. "Tetsu-chan and I know that school and therapy and everything else has been hard for you, and we want to make things easier. So we're going to change the schedule."

Tetsu had watched Taiga's face almost without blinking, hoping to see it light up. Hoping to see some glimmer of pleasure, some hint of the nii-san he knew. But Taiga's face had only gotten stormier and gloomier with each new idea.

"You...you want me to drop out of school," he said at long last. "You think I can't handle it anymore."

Dad had been talking excitedly, ticking points off on his fingers, his eyes sparkling. At this, his face fell in dismay. It might have been funny if it hadn't made Tetsu's heart drop into his stomach. The change in expression was so sudden that it was almost like a character in one of the animated films all three of them had come to cherish on their family movie nights.

"Oh, no, Taiga." Dad started to reach out, then halted when Taiga visibly tensed up. It was like a door had been slammed. Dad's face fell even further. "No, that's not it. We want you to do well. We want you to get the help you need. And school is not doing it for you."

"You think I'm a failure. You think I...you think I need special treatment. Because I'm stupid."

"Taiga-nii." Tetsu's voice was soft, but there was a hint of scolding in it. "Please listen to what we're saying. Don't hear things that aren't there."

Taiga stiffened as if he'd been stung. He pushed himself away from Tetsu along the edge of the bed and turned to face him, his face sharp with betrayal. "This was your idea, wasn't it? You must think I'm an idiot."

"Taiga." Now Dad's voice was sharp, too. "Don't accuse Tetsu-chan of...whatever you're accusing him of."

Taiga's face was thunderous. "This isn't fair. You're ganging up on me."

"Taiga." Dad threw his hands up in exasperation. "Are you saying that you want to keep doing what we've been doing all this time? You want to keep going to school, where you're falling further and further behind, then physical therapy, which wears you out until you can barely move and you come home exhausted and grumpy? The current state of things is clearly not working. Not for you, and not for Tetsu-chan and me. We're all miserable. Do you want to just continue on the path we're taking? Is that what you want?"

Taiga frowned. "You sound like I'm making you both miserable. Is that what this is about?"

"Taiga-nii." Tetsu couldn't stand it anymore. He reached out, ignoring the way Taiga glared at him, and gripped his arm. "You aren't making us miserable. It's this situation. We want to change the situation."

"And you want to change me, too, right? Because I'm an idiot."

"All right, that's enough. We're going around in circles." Dad stood abruptly, making the desk chair roll back until it bumped into the desk. "We can't make any progress this way. Please, Taiga, take some time to cool your head. Think about what we're suggesting. We'll discuss it more later." He started to exit the room, then turned and looked to Tetsu, his eyebrows rising.

Tetsu looked at Taiga, but he saw only a wall. It wouldn't do any good for him to stay, either. After a moment, he sighed and followed Dad out.

Now, lying here and thinking about the conversation, Tetsu could see the mistakes he and Dad had made. Tetsu had presented his thoughts to Dad as mere ideas, but Dad had seized on them so thoroughly that they had already become solid plans to him by the time they talked to Taiga. So he ended up telling Taiga what they were going to do, the changes they were going to make, instead of asking for his opinion and adjusting things to his satisfaction.

It had sounded like an order. Taiga must have felt like they had taken his life out of his hands. He must have thought that they saw him as a child who needed to have things arranged for him instead of a technical adult who just needed some help with a rough patch in his life.

And...yes, it was a big deal to "drop out" of school, even if that wasn't really what he was doing. Taiga had friends and classmates that he wouldn't want to abruptly cut out of his life, and he liked most of his teachers, even if he didn't understand what they were saying. Dad's idea to have him stop going immediately, tomorrow, was definitely too sudden. Even when he'd been the most miserable, Tetsu hadn't wanted to stop going to school. It was too important to his life and sense of well-being.

And Taiga loved Seirin. They all knew that. The idea of just...stopping... It had been too much. Too painful. It must have felt like they were telling him to give up.

Tetsu also didn't like the way Taiga had seized upon the idea that they must have thought he was stupid and couldn't handle school anymore. Tetsu knew this was because Taiga was feeling insecure about himself and his abilities. Because Taiga was having a hard time with things that used to be easy for him, or at least doable, he felt like a failure. Tetsu and Dad telling him that something needed to change had seemed like proof to him.

They needed to fix that. Tetsu didn't know how, but they needed to fix it. They would have to try again tomorrow.

At some point, Tetsu's hands had stopped shaking. He clasped them over his stomach and closed his eyes. It felt good to be here, to feel Taiga's presence, even when Taiga wasn't exactly the strong and steady rock he had been a few months ago. And thinking about ways to help Taiga had taken Tetsu out of his own head.

He barely remembered the dream now. He'd had it many times, and he'd discussed it and analyzed it with Dad and Akashi. He knew it was just his mind mixing up stress in the present with pain in the past. If he didn't take the time to reassure his mind that everything was still okay and he was safe now, his anxieties could creep up on him and overwhelm him. He would have to be more vigilant in the future.

And when he failed, he had his family to fall back on. That really was the best thing of all.

If only Taiga felt the same.

Taiga felt the other presence in his bed before he complete woke up. It was warm and solid, pressed to his back, and for a moment he wondered if Nigou had climbed in with him. But no, after several rejections soon after Nigou came to stay with them permanently, he had learned that Taiga's bed was a no-go. In fact, lately he'd taken to sleeping with Dad for some reason.

The other person in the bed made a little snuffle, and Taiga recognized the sound. Oh. It was Tetsu. Why was he here? He hadn't come here with some idea of making Taiga feel better, had he? Because that was impossible. Taiga was pretty sure he'd made that clear last night.

Or was it... Taiga's eyes opened wide in realization. Maybe Tetsu hadn't come here for Taiga. Maybe he'd come here for himself.

Bit by bit, Taiga turned himself over, being careful not to move out of his own space so he wouldn't disturb Tetsu. Lying on his other side, his back pressed to the wall, he looked down at his brother. Tetsu looked calm, breathing peacefully in sleep, but the hair at his temples was matted and pressed down as if he'd been sweating in the night. Or maybe crying. That was all the evidence Taiga needed.

Tetsu had had a nightmare. He had come to Taiga's room as he always did when that happened, and Taiga hadn't been there for him. Taiga had been unavailable, mired as he was now in exhaustion and self-pity. He had failed again, and this duty was a lot more important to him than school and physical therapy.

Part of his heart screamed at him to wake Tetsu up immediately. Make sure he was okay. Ask him what the dream was about and if he needed to talk about it.

Another part of him wanted to let Tetsu sleep. The guy was obviously worn out, and he never liked the processing of waking up. Taiga should let him rest while he could.

And another part of Taiga, which seemed to be the strongest and the loudest, didn't want to do anything at all. Wanted, in fact, to sneak away. He was so tired. He didn't have the energy to deal with this, to take on Tetsu's pain in addition to his own.

He was just going to mess it up, anyway.

Taiga hated that he felt like this. He didn't want to be like this. What was wrong with him?

So he just lay there, frozen in indecision, which was a kind of decision in itself. It didn't take long for Tetsu to begin to stir, as if he could feel the weight of Taiga's gaze on him. He muttered in his sleep, smacked his lips, wiggled his shoulders against the mattress. Then his eyes opened, slow and soft and hazy with sleep.

Taiga stared at him, unable to move. Tetsu turned his head to meet his eyes. And he smiled. Taiga didn't understand how he could smile.

"Good morning, Taiga-nii. Forgive the intrusion."

"There's nothing to forgive," Taiga murmured. "You're welcome here anytime."

He waited for Tetsu to frown and remind him that that hadn't been true last night. Tetsu said nothing. After a moment, he sat up and scooted back to lean on the headboard. He rubbed his eyes with both fists, yawned enormously, and gave Taiga another smile.

"Did you sleep well?" Tetsu asked.

"No."

Reflexive honesty. Taiga hadn't meant to tell the truth. But he was always tired. He never seemed to sleep well, no matter how heavy and dreamless his nights were.

Tetsu nodded easily, as if he hadn't expected another answer. It seemed far too simple.

Taiga sighed, but he had to ask. It was his job as a big brother. "Did you have a bad dream?"

Taiga nodded again, less easily. His mouth pulled down on the edges. "It was one of the usual ones. I don't need to talk about it."

Taiga hated that Tetsu had "usual" bad dreams. But what could they do about it? Nothing, apparently.

"Did you try to wake me up? I'm sorry I slept through it."

Tetsu shook his head. "No. I know you're tired and you need your sleep."

This was almost worse than if Tetsu had tried to wake him up and hadn't been able to because Taiga was sleeping too heavily. Tetsu hadn't even tried. Because he'd already known that Taiga wouldn't be able to help. Taiga's heart felt heavy in his chest.

He hated this. He hated himself. But he didn't know how to change.

"Well." Tetsu looked around the room. "I should go get ready for school."

He started to slide out of the bed, just like that. Like it didn't matter. For the first time since Taiga had come over to Tetsu's house that fateful night two years ago, Tetsu had been in pain and Taiga hadn't even tried to help him. And Tetsu was accepting it as if that was the way things were from now on.

Taiga couldn't stand it. He sat up so suddenly that his head swooped a little bit. His hand shot out and grabbed Tetsu's arm. "Tetsu-chan. Wait."

Tetsu halted, then turned back to Taiga with his eyebrows raised. His face was still completely neutral. Did it really not bother him at all?

Or, worse, was he hiding his true feelings from Taiga? Taiga didn't want that. He had fought so hard and so long to get past Tetsu's ability to fade into the background, the barriers he had erected to keep the world at a safe distance. To make sure that Tetsu could always be honest with him if with no one else. The last time Tetsu had tried to keep a secret from him, it had been the worst period of both of their lives. Taiga didn't want to go back.

"Tetsu-chan." Taiga drew a breath, bit his lip, and let it out. "Are you okay?"

Tetsu nodded easily, and oh, Taiga did not believe that at all. "I'm fine. I'm sorry I intruded on you last night. I know you wanted to be alone."

"Don't," Taiga forced out, the word a painful grunt of air.

Tetsu blinked.

"Don't apologize. I..." Taiga looked down. His fingers tightened around Tetsu's arm, and he tried to make himself lighten up, but he couldn't. He couldn't let go. He looked into Tetsu's face. "Forgive me. Please. You said last night that I've been withdrawing from everything. Withdrawing from the world. You're right. And I'm sorry. I never meant to withdraw from you. Please forgive me."

Tetsu smiled, and this time Taiga was sure that it was fake. "There's nothing to forgive. I really am fine. I did... Um. It did help, you know. To come in here and just...be here. It helped. You didn't have to do anything more. I'm glad you don't mind."

"Mind?" Taiga sucked in a breath. A pit of longing opened in his chest, sudden and dark, like a black hole sucking everything down into emptiness. Suddenly, he wanted. He wanted to be himself again, to be able to help with more than just his presence, to be here in a way he wasn't right now. "I don't mind, Tetsu-chan, I..."

He remembered how he had felt when he first woke up, and he was ashamed. He had wanted to sneak away. Part of him still did. This was too much, too overwhelming, and he didn't want to deal with it anymore. He was too tired.

But he didn't want to be tired anymore. He wanted... He wanted.

"Tetsu-chan..." It felt like a return to the beginning, those awful few weeks when Tetsu had been hiding everything just as hard as he could, hiding the agony he was suffering from Taiga and from everyone else. And when Taiga had asked him what was wrong, if someone was bullying him, how he could help, Tetsu had smiled. It had been small and ghostlike and entirely false, but he had told Taiga that he was fine. No one was hurting him. Taiga didn't have to worry about that.

And it was the biggest lie in the history of the universe.

"Tetsu-chan, are you really okay with this? I don't..." Taiga tried to breathe. His chest was tight. "I don't want you to lie to me. Even to spare me. Please, tell me. Are you okay?"

For a few seconds more, Tetsu was still, just looking into Taiga's face with his big blue eyes. Then, all at once, it tumbled down. Tetsu's face scrunched up, forehead wrinkling, mouth twisting, and he jerked free of Taiga's grip and buried his face in his hands.

"I'm okay," he said, his voice muffled. "I really am. But I wasn't last night, and... I didn't want to bother you. But I wanted you to wake up. And you didn't. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Taiga gaped at him for a moment, flabbergasted. "You...why are you apologizing?"

This wasn't Tetsu's fault. None of it was. Ever.

"Tetsu-chan..." Taiga scooted to get a little closer to him, though he wasn't even remotely sure what he was going to do about this.

"I'm sorry," Tetsu said again, his voice cracking. "I want to help you, not be a burden to you. It doesn't matter that you don't want me to help...it's what I want. And now this...again... I'm so frustrated..."

"Tetsu-chan..." Taiga's throat closed up, disallowing speech. Talk about frustration...

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come in here."

"Tetsu-chan. Shut up." Taiga moved closer and flung his arm around Tetsu's shoulders and neck. He pulled him in, dragging him down so that Tetsu's bowed head rested on the front of his shoulder. "You couldn't help it. You have nothing to apologize for."

"I'm bothering you."

"No." Taiga blinked. Well, that wasn't quite true. He was definitely bothered, and that traitorous part of him still wanted all of this to go away. Wanted Tetsu to go away. But he couldn't give in to that. He had to fight himself. "Well, okay, yes. You're bothering me. But maybe I want you to bother me with things like this. Maybe I need you to."

"You're having a hard enough time. You shouldn't have to deal with my problems as well as your own."

Taiga sighed. Could Tetsu read his mind? "Yeah, it's a lot," he said. "And I am...tired. I wish... I wish you didn't have these troubles, so neither of us had to deal with them. But since you do..." In a moment of clarity, he understood something. His eyes opened wide, and he stared down at Tetsu's head resting on his shoulder. "Since you do, I want to help. No matter what's going on with me, no matter how tired or sad or stupid I am, I still want to help. Even when part of me doesn't want to deal with it, the part of me that wants to help is stronger."

Tetsu pulled away from Taiga's shoulder, his hands falling from his face, and looked back at him. His eyes were wide. "Oh."

Taiga nodded, strong and decisive. "Yeah. That's the truth. I..." He looked down at his empty hand, curled in his lap. He squeezed it into a fist, felt the weakness in his limbs. He looked back to Tetsu. "I wish I was stronger, so I could help you better. I wish... I don't want to be this way anymore. I don't want to be tired anymore. Being your nii-san is too important to me, and this... It's getting in the way."

"I see." Tetsu watched his face carefully for a long moment, as if trying to read his expression. Then he smiled, swift and sudden and genuine. It lit up the room far brighter than the morning light coming in the windows. "That's good. I'm glad."

Tetsu's smile... It was almost magical. Taiga could feel his heart lightening at the sight. Because he knew this was a real smile, not one that covered something else. He'd seen enough of his little brother's smiles by now to know the difference. It made Taiga think that change was possible. That there might be hope for him.

A gentle knock on the wall beside the door interrupted his reverie, and Taiga and Tetsu looked up to find Dad standing in the door, smiling hesitantly. "Good morning, boys. Did you sleep well?"

Taiga and Tetsu looked at each other, then looked back to Dad and shook their heads.

He sighed. "Ah, I figured. Well. I was thinking. Taiga, I'm sorry, but before we talked I had already called the school and told them you wouldn't be in today." He looked to Tetsu. "I could do the same for you."

Tetsu blinked. "I'm okay. It was just a bad dream. It wasn't even a new one."

Dad's grimaced in pain. Like Taiga, he hated how blase Tetsu had been forced to become about these terrible, terrifying episodes in his life. But he didn't argue. "I understand. But still. I thought it might be a good idea for all three of us to take the day off and spend some time together. We need to talk about things and decide what to do."

Taiga glanced at Tetsu, who was smiling again, then looked back to Dad. "...Talk about things?" he echoed. "You're not...not just gonna tell me what's going to change?"

Dad shook his head. "No. As I said, I was thinking. And I realized that I should have asked your opinion before I finalized any plans on how to change the current state of things. But do you agree with me that something needs to change? None of us are happy right now, especially not you, Taiga. I would like to try something new, if you're willing."

Taiga didn’t have to think about it. He'd already made the determination to himself a few minutes ago, after all. "Yes. Please. I want to change."

"Okay. Good." Dad beamed at him, then looked to Tetsu. "Should I call the school for you?"

Tetsu nodded. "A day off sounds great."

"Excellent. I'll arrange everything. When you two are ready, maybe we can go out for breakfast. But there's no hurry. Take your time." Dad gave them a thumb's up, then disappeared down the hallway.

The spark of hope that had ignited in Taiga's heart began to grow to a flame. It was small and flickering, but it was there. He could feel it.

Akashi loved Fridays.

Okay, so that was probably normal. Lots of people loved Fridays. At least people who didn't work on Saturday. A lot of Japanese people worked on Saturday. Even some schools had Saturday lessons, though they were usually easier than the classes during the week and most of the day was spent on club activities. But still. Akashi watched TV (occasionally), so he knew what Friday meant to a large portion of the world. It meant fun and frivolity, a breaking of chains from the drudgery of the week for two heady days and nights spent on enjoyable activities instead of those that were necessitated by life and survival.

Fair enough. Akashi had no objections to fun and frivolity. But that wasn't what Friday meant to him.

Friday meant Tokyo. It meant going home.

Oh, not to his father. No, the family mansion was not home to him, and it had not been for a long time. A depressingly long time, if he thought about it for too long. It had ceased to be home to him long before he had moved to Kyoto to attend Rakuzan for high school, though he hadn't noticed it then. He barely set foot in the mansion if he could help it.

Home also didn't mean his Tokyo apartment, his sanctuary from the world. He liked those few little rooms, and he was very comfortable there. And he was glad that his friends and acquaintances had found it to be a sanctuary when they needed one, too. But it was not his home. It was just a place to go when he needed to relax and sleep.

No, home was...and he would never say this aloud to anyone...the Kagami apartment. Granted, he had only recently become aware of this fact. Sure, it had started two years ago, when he had found that every time he visited Tokyo he preferred to stay with Tetsu and his new family rather than going back to the mansion or crashing with other friends. Bit by bit, it had become a habit to go there whenever he could.

The Kagamis made it easy. Tetsu would text him, something like, Kise-kun says you're visiting this weekend. Do you want to stay here? There's plenty of room for you. Or Hiroshi-san would send him an email. You'd better not skip coming over here if you're in Tokyo for even an hour, Sei-chan. Tetsu-chan will be so sad. And Taiga makes so much food, we need help eating it.

And Kagami Taiga... Yes, even Kagami had slowly begun to accept Akashi's presence whenever he arrived. At first he had looked perturbed every time Akashi appeared at the door. He watched Akashi suspiciously and was quick to jump in and contradict him whenever the conversation allowed it. He also tended to sit very close to Tetsu when Akashi was there, and Akashi could tell by Tetsu's body language that it was unusual even for their very close, tight relationship.

It hadn't bothered Akashi at all. He found it amusing most of the time, sometimes a little touching. Kagami was just...extremely protective of his new little brother. Akashi didn't blame him. He was glad. That he was the threat in Kagami's protective eyes did not disturb him. It was true, after all. Of all the people still in Japan, Akashi was the one who had hurt Tetsu the most.

And when Akashi took a moment to remember just why Kagami Taiga was so achingly protective of Kagami Tetsuya... Well, then it became heartbreaking. So no matter how suspicious and short-tempered and narrow-eyed Kagami could be, Akashi bore it.

But even that had faded. It astonished Akashi now, looking back, to realize how quickly it had happened. Weeks? Months? Perhaps it was Tetsu and Hiroshi-san's continued good regard of him, or perhaps it was just that familiarity bred tolerance, but Kagami had eventually come to view Akashi as just another part of his life. He stopped growling behind his teeth when he opened the door to Akashi's knock, stopped glaring at him whenever someone said the words "basketball," "middle school," or "victory," and even began to give Tetsu a little more space when they were all sitting together.

That was when Akashi's visits to the Kagami household had truly begun to dig into his soul. Perhaps Kagami Taiga's dislike of him had troubled him, after all. After it lightened, Akashi felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. If even Kagami Taiga could forget his grudge and forgive Akashi for the mistakes of the past, perhaps it was okay for Akashi to accept it. Perhaps it was okay to consider forgiving himself. Maybe. Someday.

Akashi was doing well enough in school that his teachers allowed him to leave at times for independent study. He had requested Fridays for a day he could have away from the campus, and the school had allowed it with very little fuss. Most students, he knew, would be denied such a request. Perhaps it was privilege. Perhaps it was because his father had made a large donation to Rakuzan's trustee foundation when Akashi was recruited there. Perhaps it was simply because Akashi was an excellent student who never got anything less than a perfect grade. It didn't matter.

Whether it was merit or favoritism, Akashi accepted this favor without even the slightest twinge of discomfort. Having Fridays to himself was simply. Too. Important.

He always packed on Thursday night. Oh, not that much. A few textbooks. Anything special he had bought or made over the course of the week that he wanted to bring to his family in Tokyo. Friday morning, he took the early train. He usually spent the trip listening to music or audiobooks, watching the scenery flash by the windows with a half smile. The first few times, when he had noticed that smile instinctively curving his lips, he tried to make it go away. He didn't bother trying anymore. It was there because it wanted to be there.

The trip was always calming and relaxing. He could feel every gram of tension melting away from his body with each kilometer that shrank from the distance between he and Tokyo. By the time he arrived on the station platform in the crowded, stinking city, he would be fully relaxed, fully himself.

He would stop by his apartment for anything he might not have packed in Kyoto, then enjoy a leisurely lunch at whatever restaurant struck his mood. Then, finally. The afternoon would arrive. And Akashi would go home. He would arrive at the Kagami apartment soon after one o'clock and knock on the door.

Sometimes Himuro answered, but it was usually Kagami Taiga. Kagami would sigh, but he let him in. Sometimes he muttered under his breath as he led the way into the apartment. Today it was, "Math day, huh. I can't believe I let them talk me into this. Why's it gotta be math. Why's it gotta be with Akashi."

"I think you're improving rapidly, Kagami," Akashi said calmly.

"I think your face is improving rapidly," Kagami said.

But he moved willingly to the table in the main room and sat. He crossed his legs and rested his hands on his knees. His supplies were already waiting there, so Akashi knew this was going to be a good day. Kagami wasn't resisting the tutoring session and had even prepared in advance.

He wasn't exactly eager to begin, judging by his expression, but at least he wasn't going to spend twenty minutes arguing with Akashi about how he wasn't going to need any of this in the future and he didn't get why Akashi had to be the one to teach him anyway. Maybe he'd finally gotten all of that out of his system.

Akashi watched his face carefully as he sat down across from Kagami at the table. He set his bag on the floor beside him and pulled out his own supplies and set them on the table. He'd gotten good at reading Kagami's expressions and mood over the past few weeks. Not that it had ever been difficult to begin with. Kagami wasn't the kind who hid how he felt. Now Tetsu, though... There was a challenge, even for Akashi's impressive observation skills.

It hurt, a little, to cast back in his mind and remember the first tutoring session he and Kagami had tried together. Hiroshi-san and Tetsu had warned Akashi that it might be difficult, but he had still been surprised and dismayed by that closed-off and exhausted version of Kagami Taiga. That had been just a few days after the three Kagamis had had their big discussion and come up with a new plan for dealing with Taiga’s various difficulties.

Everything had changed very abruptly. Now, after several weeks, the schedule was routine and Kagami had adjusted, but he still had bad days and good days. Not everything fixed itself as smoothly as they all would have liked. Kagami's depression had improved, but it wasn't cured. It might not be for a long time. They were all still working on it.

Still, Akashi could see a big difference between then and now. The first day, Akashi had been hesitant, though he had done his best not to let it show. Tetsu had first texted him the day the Kagamis had had their discussion, asking if he might be interested in tutoring Taiga. That night, Akashi and Hiroshi-san had had a long conversation on the phone. It had felt like a job interview, though Hiroshi-san had made it clear from the beginning that Akashi already had the job, if he wanted it. Akashi had. He would do anything for this family.

The only one not fully on board with the plan, even after extensive discussion, was Kagami Taiga. Not exactly surprising. From what Tetsu and Hiroshi-san said, Kagami wasn't fully on board with anything at the moment. But he had been willing to try, though grudging and reluctant. Kagami was desperate for almost any opportunity to improve his situation.

The first time they sat at this table... Akashi remembered the exhaustion in Kagami's body, the way moving even slowly and deliberately seemed to drain him far more than it should. A pervasive sense of gloom hung over him like a heavy cloak, so strong and all-encompassing that Akashi had to put effort into making sure he didn't fall into it.

Akashi had never tutored anyone before, but he had assumed that it would come as naturally to him as anything else that involved academics. Only now, faced with his student, had he realized the challenge ahead of them. Kagami was no ordinary student in need of a little assistance with his studies. Not only was he exhausted, depressed, and convinced of his own failure, but also he was...he was Kagami Taiga. And that meant he was going to be as stubborn as hell.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Kagami," Akashi said, offering a smile that was one-quarter charming, three-quarters sincere. He didn't dare dial up the charm anymore than that. Kagami was too jaded to fall for anything facile.

Kagami blinked at him, slow and uncomprehending. He barely reacted at all. Even his eyelids looked heavy and weighed down. "What do you mean? I thought you were doing us a favor. Why would you thank me?"

"Because I know this is taking a lot of effort for you." Akashi smoothed his hand over the papers in front of him. "Tetsu-kun told me that math is the most difficult subject for you. The one that you feel the most ill-prepared to tackle. I'm grateful for your trust.” No matter how small it might be. “Your willingness to be here means a great deal."

Kagami snorted. "You're wasting your time. This is impossible. I'm just gonna show you how impossible it is, and then you'll know, and then you'll quit coming. That'll be the end of it." He made an attempt at a sneer, but it wasn't the slightest bit convincing. "I'm trying to get rid of you, that's all. Then I won't have to deal with you cluttering up our house anymore."

Akashi nodded slowly. He had expected something like this. Tetsu and Hiroshi-san had both warned him that despite Kagami's agreement to try something new, he still was hostile to change. Of course he was defensive and antagonistic. He was trying to force Akashi away as proof to himself that he really was as hopeless as he thought he was.

"Still, you're here," Akashi said. "You could have gone to your room and refused to come out." Apparently, Kagami had employed that tactic many times in the past.

Kagami squinted him. "I promised Dad and Tetsu-chan that I would try."

"Of course. And your word is your bond. So let's try." Akashi turned around the paper he had set in front of himself and pushed it across to Kagami. "Let's start with an assessment. Tell me which of these equations you can do."

Kagami frowned down at the paper in heavy silence for almost two minutes. Then he looked up at Akashi, his eyes harsh and resentful. Still, Akashi saw the glint of fear deep within, and his heart melted in compassion. This poor guy. How had things gotten so awful for him?

"None of them," Kagami said. "I can't do any of them. I don't even know what they're called."

"Oh, no, that can't be true." Akashi stood up, taking care to move slowly and gracefully so it wouldn’t like he was rushing to point out Kagami’s faults. He moved around the table to kneel at Kagami's side and looked over the paper of equations, then pointed to one on the bottom right corner of the page. "This is a linear equation. You should have learned it in middle school. In America? What's the last math you learned there?"

"In America?" Kagami looked at him askance.

Akashi smiled pleasantly. "What was school in America like? I imagine it was quite different than it is here."

"Oh." Kagami stared away for a moment. "Yeah, I guess. I mean... You aren't split up into peer classes that you stay in for the entire year. And teachers don't move from room to room to teach each class in turn. Instead, the teachers have their own rooms, and the students have to move around to meet them. Instead of having every class with the same classmates, you could have a different group every time. So you could see some friends once or twice a day, and others not at all."

Akashi nodded. He had already known this from watching western media, but he didn't mind. Kagami was talking about his past, and he was seeming to find it enjoyable to remember, or at least neutral. His outlook had greatly improved from what it had been just moments ago.

"And most schools don't have uniforms. Public schools never do." Kagami began to warm to his subject. He settled down where he sat. his legs sprawling under the table, and leaned back on his hands to look up at the ceiling. "I guess Dad wanted me to get the full American experience or whatever, because I went to public school most of the time. We only tried a private school for one year, and it didn't work out."

"No?" Akashi was genuinely curious now. "What happened?"

Kagami shrugged. "I dunno for sure. You'd have to ask Dad. It was the first year we moved there, and I don't remember much except that I was miserable most of the time. Maybe that was why, come to think of it. I remember that I didn't have any friends there, and I always ate lunch alone. I think only one of my teachers spoke Japanese, and that not very well, and I just...didn't assimilate. The next year I went to a public school, one of the big inner city ones that had a lot of immigrant families from lots of different countries. And I met Aniki on the way home from school one day and started playing basketball, and that was it. That unlocked everything for me."

Akashi found all of this fascinating. He shook it off, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. "What were the academics like? Do you remember that?"

Kagami flashed him a grin. He seemed fully relaxed now. Remembering his childhood in America must have put him in a good mood. Akashi was grateful. "You know I never put a lot of effort into academics. That's just not me. As if I would have anything to say about something like that."

Akashi smiled back. Far from charming Kagami, he had found himself being charmed instead. What a surprise. "I suppose not. But you did graduate each year without incident, I believe, since you weren't behind when you arrived in Japan. You must have learned something at some point."

"Heh. Yeah, I guess."

Kagami looked down at the page again, at the equation Akashi had pointed out. "Yeah, I guess, now that you mention it, that does look kind of familiar. I remember making graphs. I enjoyed that part. I liked geometry too, at least the beginning stuff I did. Making lines with the ruler and arcs with the compass was fun."

This made perfect sense. Of course Kagami would enjoy the more practical, hands-on aspects of mathematics. A tide of optimism began to rise in Akashi, quite against his expectations. Suddenly, he saw a path forward.

"All right, let's start with that, then." Akashi pulled the page toward himself and circled the linear equation with a bright purple pen. The purple pen had been Momoi's idea—something about putting the "fun" in "fundamentals." Whatever. Akashi had felt so out of his depth with this task that he had been willing to take any suggestion, even silly ones.

He liked it, now. The splash of color against the black and white page seemed to bring a flare of life to the exercise. "Let's start with graphs. I bet things will start coming back to you if we spend some time on the basics."

He moved back around the table and rummaged in his bag, then pulled out a couple pages of simple linear equations and a pad of graph paper. They spent the rest of the afternoon reviewing early algebra principles. Kagami made a lot of graphs, then sat at the table and corrupted them into doodles while Akashi started explaining some of the more esoteric concepts Kagami would need to catch up on.

That was the beginning. Since then, Kagami really had improved rapidly, in Akashi's estimation. Now, he even smiled as he pulled out the assignment sheets he'd done during the week and handed them over for Akashi's inspection. "There. Wasn't I a good student this week, Akashi-sensei?"

Akashi nodded absently, looking over the pages. "You're always a good student, Taiga-chan."

Kagami laughed. They had only started calling each other those names last week, and that only during tutoring. They were always said in a light, teasing tone, like an inside joke. And Kagami had initiated it.

He really was improving in every way.

Akashi looked up at him and smiled, warm and full and one hundred percent sincere. "Let's start, shall we?"

"Of course."

And they did.

Everyone had laughed at the idea when Kise first brought it up. "You?" Aominecchi had asked, barely holding in his guffaws. "The guy who stresses Kagami out more than anyone else in the entire city of Tokyo? You want to be his stress-relief coach?"

Kise pouted. "I don't understand why everyone thinks I'm so stressful to Kagamicchi. We get along fine."

"In your eyes, maybe. Believe me, everyone else can see very well just how stressed out you make him."

"But all the other positions are taken," Kise whined. "Akashicchi is tutoring him in math and Midorimacchi is tutoring history and Coach Riko and Hyuuga-san are doing Japanese and Momoicchi is doing science and Himuro-san is doing English..." Kise ticked each one off on his fingers, and Aominecchi blinked as if astonished at Kise's memorization skills. Which was ridiculous. Of course Kise knew exactly what all of his friends were doing at all times. This was very important. "It's a very tight schedule! Kagamicchi needs to wind down whenever he can. And I'm exactly the person to help him to do it."

Aominecchi snorted. "Whatever you say, idiot. Try if you want. It's your funeral. I guess you could ask Hiroshi-san and Tetsu if it's okay to take Kagami out to spend time with you on the weekend. For 'de-stressing.'"

Kise had beamed as if Aominecchi had just given him a ringing endorsement and encouraged him to go full out. "I will! Thank you, Aominecchi! I'll be a fantastic de-stressing coach, you'll see."

Aominecchi laughed again, loud and hard. Which was a little mean, but whatever. Kise was used to it.

Unsurprisingly, Hiroshi-san was totally on board with Kise's plan. That is to say, when Kise mentioned it to him after they had all had dinner together Friday night, he blinked and stared into the distance for a moment with his eyebrows raised, then looked back to Kise and said, "I hadn't even considered that."

"Well, you should!" Kise said enthusiastically. "Kagamicchi has been under a lot of stress lately! That's why you are making all these changes. I want to help too! Let me remind him of the fun things about living in Tokyo. He's spent too much time cooped up in the hospital, and since then he's barely set foot outside of school and this apartment besides physical therapy sessions. Tetsuyacchi told me so. He needs to get out and live while he's young!"

Hiroshi-san laughed, but it wasn't as mean as Aomine. It was just a sound of surprise, almost wonderment. Kise could hear the kindness in it. "Ah yes. I suppose you're right. Thank you, Ryouta-chan. That's very thoughtful of you. Maybe you and Taiga could do something together tomorrow. Do you want to bring Tetsu-chan with you too?"

Kise was tempted. Strongly tempted. He loved spending time with Tetsuyacchi, and here was Hiroshi-san encouraging him to do it. But no. He had to stay focused on the task at hand.

Kise shook his head, if a bit slowly and reluctantly. "No... Not this time. This is for Kagamicchi. I think it will be distracting for him to have his precious little brother around. De-stressing means de-stressing. He shouldn't be allowed to worry about anything, and that includes Tetsuyacchi."

"Ah." Hiroshi-san nodded slowly. "That's wise." He grinned, sudden and wide. "I suppose you think that you'll be a good partner for this exercise because Taiga is unlikely to worry about you, then?"

Kise wrinkled up his nose. That was one way to look at it, he supposed. "No," he said earnestly. "I think I should do it because I'll be the best de-stressing coach ever. I know everything about how to relax and have a good time."

"All right, Ryouta-chan." Hiroshi-san clapped his shoulder. "Have it your way. Take Taiga out somewhere tomorrow and show him how to have a good time. I agree that he needs to get out of the house and spend time in new surroundings. If he resists, I'll force him."

Kise grinned back and patted the hand on his shoulder. "No worries! I'm sure Kagamicchi will agree as soon as I tell him the plan. It's such a good idea, how could anyone refuse?"

Hiroshi-san laughed. "How, indeed?"

Well, by being Kagami Taiga, that was how. Kise found a moment when Kagamicchi was alone in the kitchen, rinsing some dishes in the sink, to approach him and reveal his amazing plan. And Kagamicchi laughed like he was going to die.

"You?" he half-howled, half-shrieked. "You want to help me 'relieve my stress?'"

Kise narrowed his eyes. This was becoming a pattern, he could see. What was wrong with everyone he knew? They should all be much smarter than this. "Yes. I don't just 'want to,' though. I'm going to do it."

Kagamicchi's laughter cut off abruptly. He put the dish he'd been holding down in the sink, then turned to face Kise head on. His eyes were wide. "You're serious about this."

Kise nodded. "I am."

Kagamicchi stared at him for a moment longer, then looked down at the floor and shuffled his feet. "Um, you know..."

Kise tilted his head. "What?"

Kagamicchi glanced up at him, then looked down again. "You know I don't really...like you. Right?"

Kise blinked. "Like me? You mean...as dating material? No, I know that. This isn't a date. It's a manly outing in the heart of our great city to reconnect to what makes life worth living."

Kagamicchi rubbed the back of his head. "No, not as dating material... I mean, I don't really like you. As a person. You just...rub me the wrong way."

"Oh, that." Kise nodded easily. "Yes, I know. Our friends say that you're like a cat and I'm like a dog, and I get too friendly and eager and annoy you too much." He smiled, wide and effortless. "But I don't mind! I'm sure you'll like me better once you get to know me."

Kagamicchi stared at him in astonishment again, his mouth hanging slightly open. "We've had almost three years to get to know each other. If I don't like you after all this, what makes you think that I'll ever change my mind?"

Kise shrugged. "I'm sure you just haven't spent enough time with me in the right context." He spread his arms. "So of course we have to try harder! We have to go to all sorts of places and try all sorts of things, so you can finally figure out what an awesome person I am and how much fun it is to spend time with me."

And now Kagamicchi laughed again. It was loud and boisterous, but not as incredulous and hysterical as before. "Okay, okay. Fine! Have it your way. We'll go somewhere tomorrow and you can try to teach me how to 'de-stress.'" He glanced at the living room, where Hiroshi-san seemed to feel the attention and turned around to give his son a little wave. "Besides, I get the feeling that if I don't go along with you, Dad will just make me. He's been very forceful lately."

Kise nodded. "Yep. He thinks it's an awesome idea. So we'll go! I have so many ideas."

Kagamicchi groaned. "I'm sure you do. Geez, what am I getting myself into?"

"Only good things, Kagamicchi," Kise said cheerfully. "Only good things."

Unfortunately, the first couple of tries did not go as well as Kise had hoped. The first thing he did was take Kagamicchi out to do the activity he himself found to be the most relaxing in the world: shopping. Kise loved browsing the racks looking for a shirt that would bring out his eyes or a pair of jeans that would accentuate his butt. He could spend hours doing it. And he did. Everything faded away when he could just focus on colors and styles and what looked good and what didn't (almost everything looked good, mind you, but very few items were perfect). Sometimes he didn't even buy anything. He just enjoyed the experience.

With Kagamicchi along, though, it turned out to be not relaxing at all. He was not the type who enjoyed just looking around. "When can we leave?" he asked at least five times. In the first half hour. "You want a shirt, right? Let's just find a shirt and leave."

"I don't want something for myself," Kise explained as patiently as he could. For the fifth time. "We're looking for something for you. Come on, let's try on these three shirts and see which one you like the best."

Kagamicchi stared at him like a scandalized aunt. "They're all fine. I don't care."

"How can you know that? You haven't even tried them on."

"I don't have to. They're just...shirts." Kagamicchi grabbed one of them out of Kise's hands, seemingly at random. "This...this one good. It's red. I like red."

Kise hummed thoughtfully. "Yes, I agree that it's a nice shade, and the style looks okay. But you need to try it on. It might clash with your hair. And we need to make sure the fit is right."

Kagamicchi gaped at him. "It's in my size. I'm sure it's fine."

"That's only the beginning. Come on, Kagamicchi, the fitting room is right over there." He put his hands in the middle of Kagamicchi's back and began to push.

In the end, Kise had to bully him through the entire process. By the end of the afternoon, Kagamicchi looked sweaty and harried, and the white around his eyes was permanently visible because his eyes were so wide. It was not, Kise had to admit, the most successful de-stressing outing he'd ever taken someone on.

The stopped for burgers on the way home, though, and Kagamicchi seemed to regain his footing. But Kise felt bad. As they rode the bus back to the Kagami apartment, he reflected on the afternoon and felt worse and worse. He had spent the entire time trying to force Kagamicchi, and it hadn't worked. Kise should have given up after the first hour, when it was clear that it wasn't relaxing him at all. He had been selfish, or perhaps stupid, refusing to understand that his tastes differed from his friend's. What Kise found relaxing, Kagamicchi had found stressful. He'd had exactly the opposite effect he'd intended. Surely Kagamicchi would never want to go on an outing with him again.

So when he dropped him off at the apartment, Kise stopped in the doorway. Kagamicchi treaded slowly inside and took off his shoes, then turned back when he realized Kise wasn't following him. "Aren't you going to come in and say hi to Dad and Tetsu-chan?"

Kise shook his head gloomily. "No. I'm very sorry, Kagamicchi. I wanted to help you relax this afternoon, but instead I only made your stress worse. I was a terrible coach. Please forgive me."

Kagamicchi looked surprised. "Oh, you noticed that I didn't enjoy that? I thought you were too caught up in your own fun to realize."

Kise grimaced. "I noticed. I just kept trying to force you, anyway. I thought maybe you would like it if you gave it a proper try. I should have left you alone."

Kagamicchi looked away, a thoughtful expression stealing over his face, then looked back to Kise. "It wasn't all that bad. I knew you were trying to help. And I did...want to try. It turns out that I don't find shopping relaxing, but it was interesting to see something about why you like it so much."

He turned and faced Kise fully, then spread his hands. The gesture was open and accepting, as if he was inviting Kise in. Into the apartment, into his life. It was so shocking, such a huge departure from Kagamicchi's usual attitude, that Kise blinked and almost took a step back.

"Come in and see Tetsu-chan and Dad. They'll be disappointed if you don't. I'm not angry at you. Maybe we didn't find the perfect activity to help me de-stress, but I didn't hate it. And anyway, I didn't think about any of my troubles all day long. That's a win."

Kise grinned. "Then you'll come out with me again next week?"

Kagamicchi hesitated, his forehead wrinkling. But he nodded. "Sure. Let's try again."

"Great! I'm so glad! I have so many ideas!"

Kagamicchi rubbed the back of his head. "Right. You said that."

So they kept trying. Some attempts were more successful than others.

Kise had thought the pop concert would surely be a winner. He knew that Kagamicchi liked music—sometimes he sang random lyrics while he was moving around in the apartment, and it was rare for the radio not to be on while he was working in the kitchen. But it turned out that Kagamicchi was not a fan of big, enthustiastic crowds. Halfway through the concert, he turned to Kise and yelled over the ear-splitting noise, asking if they could leave early. His voice was almost desperate.

Kise turned to him in alarm, saw that Kagamicchi looked like he was about to collapse, then grabbed his arm and hustled him out as quickly as he could. He shoved through the crowd with little regard for anyone else's feelings, ignoring the outraged exclamations that surfaced in their wake. Outside the auditorium, Kagamicchi leaned back on the wall and panted. Sweat was pouring down his face, and his eyelids fluttered.

Kise apologized, but Kagamicchi shook his head and waved a hand. "It's not your fault," he said. "I used to like concerts. At least more than I do tonight. I think I'm just...still not one hundred percent, physically. It's too exhausting for me right now. Give me...give me a few months, and we can try it again."

Kise murmured an agreement, his heart aching in his chest. He had forgotten to account for Kagamicchi's physical condition. Stupid.

The next outing, a nice walk-around in a botanical garden, went better. It was definitely relaxing. Maybe too much, though. Afterward, Kagamicchi admitted that he'd been bored. He hadn't hated it, but he had no desire to go again. So it wasn't Kagamicchi's perfect de-stressing activity, then. Kise was determined to keep trying until they found it.

Going to a cat cafe was a good idea, though. Kagamicchi liked that one a lot. "Next time I'll bring Tetsu-chan and Aniki," he told Kise afterward. "No offense, but going with just you felt too much like a date. At least we didn't order any food, just drinks, but it was still too close." Kise laughed and agreed, then couldn't stop grinning for the rest of the day. They were getting closer.

Today, they were going to an aquarium. Kagamicchi was skeptical when Kise stopped at the apartment to pick him up. "Looking at fish, really?" He put on his outdoor shoes and bumped his toes against the step. "It sounds too much like the botanical garden."

"I did research," Kise said cheerfully. "A lot of people on the internet said watching fish swim is very relaxing."

Kagamicchi huffed out a little laugh. "Yes, and you can always trust the internet."

"You liked the cats," Kise said. "Fish are animals, too. They won't be boring and just sit there like the plants."

Kagamicchi tilted his head in agreement, and they went.

The internet was right. Kise let Kagamicchi set the pace, as he had learned to do, and at first he moved quickly from tank to tank, glancing over the fish inside then moving on. But gradually as they moved further into the place, Kagamicchi's steps slowed. He spent more time looking at each species, watching them swim around, and even read some of the informative signs.

Then they came to one of the biggest attractions at this particular aquarium—a very big, very well-stocked tank dedicated to the coral reefs of Australia. It was huge, just an enormous wall of vibrantly colored fish and vibrantly colored coral as diverse and varied as the reef itself. As soon as they rounded a corner and saw the tank, Kagamicchi stopped still and stood there on the floor, his eyes widening and widening. "Wow. Look at that."

Kise smiled, though he tried to keep it to himself. "Yeah. It's pretty cool, huh?"

"It's amazing." Kagamicchi's eyes moved back and forth, following the movement of one fish, then another. He was still standing stock still in the middle of the path, and other patrons were having to maneuver to get around him.

Kise took his arm and gently tugged him over to the opposite wall, where the management had a set up a number of padded benches. Smart of them. Several of the benches were already occupied with people staring at the coral reef tank in avid fascination, but Kise found an empty one and guided Kagamicchi down to sit.

"I never knew there were so many pretty little fish," Kagamicchi said, his voice awed.

"I know, right?" Kise sat next to him and stared at the tank, too. Again, he couldn't stop smiling. "It's really cool."

They stayed there for a long time. Long enough for Kise to get bored and check his phone. It was starting to get late. Tetsuyacchi and Hiroshi-san would be waiting with dinner. Kise sent Tetsuyacchi a text to make sure they wouldn't worry.

After what felt like hours, but probably wasn't nearly that long, Kagamicchi finally stirred and turned to face Kise. "I want to come here again." His eyes were still wide with wonder.

Kise grinned. "Is it relaxing? Do you feel de-stressed?"

Kagamicchi blinked. Then he grinned back, wide and broad and joyful, wrinkling his eyes and puffing out his cheeks. "Yeah. Yeah, I do. Good job, Coach. I'm really happy."

Kise laughed. "Me too." He clapped his friend's shoulder, and Kagamicchi turned back to stare at the tank again.

"Me too," Kise whispered, just to himself. He’d never felt such relief.

It was good to know that he could help. Even if he couldn’t tutor Kagamicchi, couldn’t help him catch back up to where he should be, couldn’t help him play basketball again. At least he could help him relax. It wasn’t what Kise wanted (what he wanted was a magic wand that could instantly fix every problem for the people who were so achingly dear to him), but it was something.

Tetsu was lying on his bed reading a book when a quiet knock sounded on his half-open door. He looked up to see Taiga diffidently peeking in at him with one eye, almost hiding behind the door with only part of his face showing. It was so unexpected that Tetsu almost laughed aloud, but he managed to keep it down to just a slight twitch of his lips. "Yes, Taiga-nii?"

"May I come in?"

"Of course. Anytime." Tetsu sat up and shifted to the head of the bed to make room for him. Taiga usually just came in without asking when the door was open, though he would knock or call when the door was closed. Something must be going on for him to be this formal.

Tetsu was curious about how Taiga and Kise's visit to the aquarium had gone. Had something happened? For a moment longer, Taiga didn't move into the room. He just stood there. Staring.

Tetsu blinked. "Is something wrong, Taiga-nii? Why...why are you hiding?" His nascent anxiety ticked upward a notch. Seriously, what had happened?

Taiga sighed, then finally emerged from the door and stepped into the room. He was holding something in his hands, and he held it out straight in front of him for Tetsu's inspection. "Look what Kise bought for me at the aquarium gift shop."

Tetsu blinked at it, his eyebrows rising. It was...a little stuffed fish. It would have fit comfortably in one of Kagami's palms, and it was bright and colorful, with many floppy fabric fins. Tetsu was pretty sure the fish came from the coral reefs, but he didn't know its name.

"That's nice," he said doubtfully. He wasn't at all sure that it was nice. Why did Taiga look so worried? "Don't you like it? How did your visit to the aquarium go?"

Taiga pulled the fish back in his hands and stared down at it glumly. "It went great. It was the best stress-relief outing yet. I told Kise that I would like to go back. Watching the fish swim was really, really relaxing."

Tetsu blinked again. "So then...what's wrong?"

"Kise bought me a present." Taiga looked up at Tetsu again, his eyebrows twisting together. "And all these visits to different places in the city, and he's been so nice... I think he's trying to get into my pants. I don't want to hurt his feelings, but I have to turn him down."

Tetsu almost choked. His throat burned, and he coughed instead. He set his book aside and coughed into both hands, which gave him the opportunity to hide an enormous grin behind his palms. It took every ounce of strength and determination he had to keep from bursting into ear-piercing screeches of laughter. Oh. Oh, wow. So that was what was troubling Taiga.

After a few moments, Tetsu managed to control himself. He lowered his hands and looked back to the fish plushy, studying it as seriously as he could. "No, I don't think that's what this means," he said in the most thoughtful tone he could muster. "When Kise-kun likes someone, he goes full out. If he wanted to woo you, he would have bought a much, much bigger stuffed animal. Something you would barely be able to hold in both arms. That's...that's a friend gift. Because he was happy, and he wanted to show it."

"Oh." Taiga stared down at the fish for a moment longer, then sighed and moved over to the bed. Tetsu expected him to sit next to him and lean back against the wall, but instead Taiga moved to the foot of the bed and flopped backward on to it, making the bed bounce. His head ended up a few inches from Tetsu's crossed legs, and his shins hung over the end of the bed with his feet still on the floor.

Tetsu blinked down at him. Taiga still didn't look reassured. "Is something else bothering you?"

"I guess." Taiga held the fish above his chest in both hands and stared at it. "It's just...everything is weird."

Tetsu frowned. "I know you still feel depressed sometimes, Taiga-nii, but it's okay, you're getting better..."

"No, not that," Taiga rocked his head back and forth against the bedding and bent his neck back to look up into Tetsu's eyes. "It's just... Everyone is being so kind. Even Midorima was freakishly patient with me during our history tutoring this week. I forgot dates that I should have memorized weeks ago, and he didn't even grunt at me. Just got out the page and went over it with me again. I don't understand."

"You don't understand why everyone is being kind to you?" It was such a ridiculous idea that Tetsu had to repeat it to be sure he understood.

"Yeah. I mean..." Taiga let go of the fish with one hand so he could wave it around in the air. "Hyuuga-san and Coach Riko being nice to me makes sense. Or enough sense, anyway. They still feel like they're my senpai, and they take that duty seriously. And of course you and Dad and Aniki are kind to me. But the others... And not just now, but earlier, when I was in the hospital, too. They've all gone out of their way for me so many times."

Tetsu frowned down at him a little harder. "Yes?" He still wasn't sure he understood the question.

"Those guys...those are your friends. Your old teammates from middle school. I just... Who am I to them? I don't get it."

"Oh, Taiga-nii." Tetsu sighed and leaned his head back against the wall for moment. So that's what this was about. He shook his head to himself, the corner of his mouth turning up wryly. Sometimes it astonished him how Taiga could be so, so sweet and also so, so dumb.

"Taiga-nii." He opened his eyes and looked down at his big brother again. "They're your friends, too. Did you really not notice?"

Taiga stared at him. His hands tightened around the little fish. "Wh...what?" And now he was sputtering. Tetsu might have found it funny if it wasn't threatening to break his heart. "Wh...when did that happen?"

Tetsu couldn't help himself. He reached out and started carding his fingers through Taiga's hair, the way Taiga had done for him a few times back when he was so sick and unsteady. He remembered how nice it had felt to be touched like that, how soothing and reassuring it had been to know that someone who cared about him was at his side. Perhaps he could offer back even just an echo, give the slightest bit of that reassurance in return....

"Taiga-nii, what did you think was happening when Akashi-kun and Kise-kun and even Aomine-kun kept showing up at the hospital back then? Who did you think it was for?"

Taiga frowned. He noticed that he was starting to crush his fish plushy, his grip was so tight, so he set it next to his head in the crook between his shoulder and his neck. His folded his hands over his chest and shrugged, making the little fish bob up and down. "I don't know. At first I was too out of it to really consider why, but I guess... I always assumed it was for you. Because they were your friends, and they knew how upset you were that I was hurt, so they came to support you. And I mean...I was glad for that. I know how precious those weirdos are to you, so I was glad they came to help you when I was useless."

"I see." Tetsu nodded slowly and looked away. His hand continued to sift through Taiga's hair. It was soft and slid easily through his fingers, and he liked the sensation. "But when they agreed to tutor you...that was when it began to seem strange to you?"

"Yeah. I mean, at first I figured it was because me being unhappy was making you unhappy, so they were doing it for your sake again. But it just... They've been doing so much. It's...so much effort. Akashi, Midorima, Momoi... I can almost understand it from those three, because they're all smart and analytical, so they would have known that helping me would help you. But Kise..." Taiga fell silent, unable to articulate what he was thinking.

"You can't make sense of Kise."

"Not at all." Taiga blew out a breath and stared up at the ceiling. "Dad told me that Kise refused the idea of taking you along on these outings, too, and I just...I've never heard of Kise turning down an opportunity to spend time with you. Never even imagined it. But he... He put a lot thought into these trips. A lot more than I would have expected. Especially the last two, to the cat cafe and the aquarium."

Tetsu smiled. "Yes, I know. He even asked me for advice for things you might like to do after the first trip went badly."

"Did you know he's allergic to cats? Not so bad that he's in danger of dying or anything, but he spent the whole time at the cat cafe sneezing into his sleeve, and his eyes got really red and watery. One of the waitresses asked him if he'd had a bad breakup and that was why he came to the cats for comfort."

Tetsu laughed, soft and affectionate. "I didn't know that, no."

"I mean, he flirted with her and I think he got her number. But still. That's a lot of dedication."

Tetsu nodded thoughtfully. "It is. You're right." Unconsciously, his fingers began to slow in Taiga's hair. Taiga tilted his head to look at him not a little reproachfully. It reminded Tetsu of Nigou when he'd been petting him for a while and suddenly stopped. So Tetsu smiled and starting combing through his hair again.

He thought about a little boy who moved across the sea and couldn't make friends for an entire year until he started playing basketball. A ten-year-old whose mother yelled that she couldn't endure him right before she walked out of his life for good. A fifteen-year-old who loudly declared that he only had use for people who were strong at basketball, then immediately proved himself a gigantic liar.

Did Taiga say such a thing because he thought it was true of himself? That no one would have a use for him if he wasn't good at something? At basketball? Perhaps it was a bad thing, then, that Taiga had always been amazing at basketball. He had never had an opportunity to learn that people could like him and befriend him and want to be around him just because of who he was: Kagami Taiga, a kind, loyal, generous young man who only deserved good things in life.

"Taiga-nii," Tetsu proclaimed solemnly. "You'll be able to play basketball again. Soon, I hope."

Taiga's shoulders twitched. "Yeah, I know. You guys don't have to keep saying that all the time."

Tetsu nodded. "Yes, it's true. But have you considered what might happen if you can't?"

Taiga twitched again. Tetsu felt bad about making him uncomfortable, but not that bad. He felt that something important was about to happen, and if he hadn't been lounging comfortably, he might have been sitting on the edge of his seat. He felt this...this something, something that was about to break, to fall, to disperse into mist. It was trembling on the edge, like a boulder about to plunge down a path, an avalanche about to sweep down into a valley, a flow of water about to break through a jam. He wanted it to happen so badly he could almost taste it.

Taiga lay still for a moment longer, then abruptly rolled up on his side, his body curving into a loose ball. He was facing the wall, that familiar position he took when he wanted to shut out the world. But he hadn't pulled away from Tetsu. Instead, he had somehow pushed himself closer, his head only centimeters from touching Tetsu's leg. Tetsu kept petting his hair, the motion slow and soothing.

The fish had gotten crushed under Taiga's head. He pulled it out with one hand, then held it in front of his chest, sheltered in the curl of his body. "I don't like to think about it," he muttered.

"But you have, right?" Tetsu already knew the answer.

Taiga blew out a silent sigh. His fingers tightened on the fish. "Yeah. After the...the accident... The scouts stopped coming. I knew I wasn't going to get a scholarship, not anymore. And it sucks, but I mean... I can't blame them. A scholarship... It's basically a salary. A huge, expensive salary. You don't give a salary to someone who can't do anything to earn it. Maybe in a year...or two... Maybe I'll fully recover. Everyone seems to think so, even the doctors who were the most cautious at first, so I guess it's probably true. But still... Yes. I thought about it."

Tetsu's chest ached. He had to swallow against the lump in his throat. "What did you see when you looked ahead at a future without basketball?"

Taiga said nothing for a moment. Then, "It was dark," he whispered.

"And who did you see there at your side in that future? Anyone?"

Taiga had to think about it. "You. Dad. Aniki."

"Anyone from Seirin? Any of the Generation of Miracles?"

Taiga looked over his shoulder at Tetsu. "What are you getting at?"

It hurt, but Tetsu forced a smile. "Do you really think so little of your friends, Taiga-nii? Do you really think that everyone would abandon you if you couldn't play a ball game anymore?"

Taiga blinked. "I..." He looked forward again. At the wall. His head was pressed into Tetsu's leg now, instinctively seeking contact. Tetsu could feel his tension, his trembling. "I don't know. I didn't...I didn't think about it that way."

Tetsu's hand went still against Taiga's head. His pressed his palm into that soft, dark red hair, firm and solid, like an extended pat. His hand was steady, but his voice wavered. "You didn't think about it that way because you thought you already knew. You assumed. Without putting any thought into it, you were sure that anyone who did not consider you family would leave if you couldn't play basketball anymore."

"Yeah." Taiga's voice was barely audible, just a low murmur of breath with no force behind it. "I guess that's true."

The pads of Tetsu's fingers pressed into Taiga's scalp. There was a strange sensation in his chest, an aching and a pressure, like a heavy balloon about to burst with the weight of air. He wanted to make an impression. He wanted Taiga to hear him, to understand. To feel the truth. "And what...what do you think now? Have our friends proved to you yet that they value you, with or without basketball? Because they do. We all do."

Taiga was so still for so long that Tetsu almost could have believed he had fallen asleep. But he could hear his breathing, soft and ragged. Struggling.

"Taiga-nii?" Tetsu's voice fell to a breath, too. He sank down on his side into his bed, curling up in a ball with his face toward his brother. As Taiga sheltered his little stuffed fish, Tetsu sheltered Taiga's bowed head. His knees almost touched Taiga's back, his feet hanging off the edge of the bed, and his hand remained buried in Taiga's hair. It was difficult to maneuver and a little cramped, but he got his own head between Taiga's and the wall. In this strange, awkward position, he could see Taiga's face.

His eyes were squeezed shut.

"Taiga-nii." Tetsu felt like crying. "Don't you believe me? We love you, Taiga-nii. We all love you. So, so much. We have for a long time. Pretty much since we met you, I think. Maybe some of us took longer than others, but we're all there now. We love you and we want you to be strong and happy, and we'll do anything to make that happen. Please, please believe me."

Taiga breathed. His face was damp with sweat, with tears. His expression twisted, and he ducked as if trying to escape Tetsu's eyes, but Tetsu's hand on his head held him still.

"Please, Taiga-nii. Do you believe me?"

Achingly slow, Taiga opened his eyes. He met Tetsu's gaze, though upside-down and distorted. "I..." His face twisted again, longing and pain almost equally mixed. "I think so. I want to. I didn't...I didn't expect this."

"I know." Tetsu carded his hand roughly through Taiga's hair, in relief as much as anything else. "You never expect anything." He jerked out a little laugh, harsh, broken. "You're so selfless, Taiga-nii. You could stand to be a little more greedy, sometimes. If you reached out once in a while, you might realize that we were all eager to give back to you."

Taiga's nose wrinkled incredulously. "What are you talking about? I've been...I've been so selfish. Ever since I came home... I've just been focused on myself, on my own little world. That's what you said, right? I was withdrawing from everyone. It was selfish of me. That's why I've been trying to fix it."

Tetsu shook his head in despair. "Oh, Taiga-nii. How can you understand so much and so little? That's..." He didn't have words. Taiga stared at him in confusion. Tetsu sighed and went limp. His hand fell down on the bed beside Taiga's head, no longer pressing him. Tetsu was going to have to let this one go. In withdrawing from everyone, trying to bear his own burden and not bother anyone with his pain, Taiga had been as far from selfish as Tetsu could imagine. But he didn’t know how to make Taiga understand that.

He had to try something else. "Listen, Taiga-nii. I know it's hard for you, but can you please, please just let us all be kind to you? We want to, so very badly. You'd be doing us a favor. Let Midorima-kun be patient with you. Let Akashi-kun enjoy teaching you. Let Kise-kun show you how to relax. Let me and Dad and Aniki shelter you when you're weary."

Taiga didn't respond right away. After a moment of waiting, Tetsu felt his tension begin to drain away. He'd done everything he could. He had laid it all out for Taiga as clearly as he knew how. From here on, it was up to Taiga to understand or not understand, to accept or reject or just mull over it all for a while. Tetsu couldn't ask for more.

But after a long, considering moment, Taiga came to a decision. His face smoothed out. The wrinkles vanished, his shoulders falling loose instead of hunched and tight. And he reached behind his head for Tetsu's hand, picked up, and dropped it on top of his own head again. Just like Nigou asking for petting.

"Okay, Tetsu-chan," he said. "You can be kind to me. I won't object."

Tetsu laughed and ruffled his hair. His heart was so light that he thought it might float away. Finally, something was going right for a change.

Finally.