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pearlsephoni · 1 year

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At the End of the Sun, Chapter 1

Can also be read on AO3!

Rating: This Chapter: T; Whole Work: E

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Pairing: Kagehina (Kageyama/Hinata)

Characters: Shoyo Hinata, Tobio Kageyama, Natsu Hinata, Mama Hinata, Ittetsu Takeda, brief cameos from Yamaguchi and Tsukishima

Word Count: 5.2k

Summary: It‘s an easy trade for Shoyo Hinata, if a little strange: a year living with a talking wolf in exchange for the plants that would save his sister’s life. He expects a new home and friend. What he finds is a cursed heir, a vengeful sorcerer, an act of betrayal, and a dangerous quest. But the most surprising discovery of all? The love of his life.

A/N: Written for the @kagehinabigbang! Special thanks to my beta, Lin, and my artist, Fish!! Further author’s notes can be read on AO3.

He was in the woods of his childhood, surrounded by papery birch trees with thin moss creeping over their roots. The dirt beneath his feet smelled and felt familiar, as did his father’s old hunting bow; the flexible bamboo was smooth in his hands as he crept along the forest floor.

He couldn’t remember why he was there. He never could. But then, like always, he saw a familiar silhouette flitting between the trees ahead of him, dashing across the path like a ghost, with a swiftness that contrasted the sound of sturdy steps. Shoyo didn’t focus on that. The relief he felt at recognizing those steps overwhelmed anything else he noticed.

“Dad?” he whispered, never yelled—that was the single best way to cut a hunting trip short, and if he was holding his father’s bow, then surely he was hunting. They were both hunting. “Dad, wait up!”

His body instinctively fell into a stance that allowed him to move through the underbrush in silence, chasing the black form like a shadow. “Dad!” His father didn’t stop. Why wouldn’t he stop?

The sturdy steps eventually fell quiet, and he approached the shape from behind, straightening out of his hunting stance to hold out the bow. “Dad, you forgot this! Why’d you—?”

In a flash of motion, the silhouette turned and pinned him under a dark, piercing gaze, freezing him in place. In a flash of clarity, he realized the figure he’d been chasing wasn’t his father. It was some sort of creature, hazy in form except for those sharp eyes. Suddenly, he was the hunted, not the hunter, unable to move as those eyes got closer…and closer…

“Hinata!”

Shoyo jolted awake just in time to receive a faceful of his yukata. “Spirits, what?” he grouched, pushing himself upright and blinking blearily.

“Wake up already! Takeda-sensei’s gonna be here soon.”

Shoyo finally found the speaker—his assailant, his mind supplied grumpily—and frowned at Yamaguchi as he dragged his fingers through his mussed ginger hair. “How are you up before me?”

“Dunno.” The effect of Yamaguchi’s casual shrug was ruined by his smug smile, though it quickly melted into a worried frown. “Were you having that dream again? You kept twitching around in your sleep.”

“I dunno how, but you made that sound perverted.” Oh, perfect, Tsukishima was already awake, too. Why were they both awake before sunrise?

“Gross, Tsukki! Don’t project your dirty mind onto me!”

“Oh? Thought you liked my ‘dirty mind’—”

“Okay!” Shoyo cried out, scrambling out of his blankets in a burst of panicked energy. “Okay, I’m up! Stop talking, Tsukishima!”

“Works like a charm,” Tsukishima sniffed with a satisfied grin, a sharp contrast to Yamaguchi’s beet-red face.

There was a certain routine to returning to the Kageyama clan’s domain after escorting the daimyo from his year-long pilgrimage in Edo. Usually the samurai were given a few days to get settled back in, filling their time with cleaning, unpacking, spoiling their horses, and, in Yamaguchi’s case, recultivating gardens. In between chores were the usual training, Shoyo’s favorite part, and studying, his least favorite part.

But this time, he didn’t have a few days. He only had two, and those days felt like they’d gone in a blink, leaving him a little frantic as he finished packing the last few things. He’d just finished saddling up his horse when he heard a hesitant, “Pardon the intrusion.”

“Oh! Morning, sensei!” Shoyo bent into a deep bow as the healer of the daimyo, Ittetsu Takeda, carefully brought his horse to stand next to Shoyo’s.

Takeda took one look at his face before bursting into laughter. “Oh no, Shoyo-kun,” he laughed, “did the homecoming chores take all your time?”

“Yeah,” Shoyo sighed, swinging himself into his saddle. “I only got to spar a little with Yamaguchi.”

“Well, we’ll just have to make sure this visit is worth you missing out on training.”

The glint in Takeda’s eye made Shoyo straighten with a small grin and a determined set to his brows. “It’ll be worth it. It always is.”

The healer shot him a knowing, fond grin, before nudging his horse and riding off.

The sky was still a gauzy purple as they left the palace grounds. The journey to the outskirts of the domain’s capital could take an entire day on an efficient trip, with an overnight stop sometimes being required partway through. If Shoyo had been riding with anyone else, anyone on their first journey, he was sure the trip would’ve taken well over a day.

But he was traveling with Takeda, who had made the same trip back and forth countless times. With their combined experience, they arrived at their destination as the late afternoon sun fell lower in the sky.

They dismounted at the opening in a barrier of wood surrounding a sprawling yard with a house at the center. It looked large, though it served as a healer’s clinic as much as a home. Only a few yards separated the property from the thick cluster of trees that was the forest nearby. The shadowy branches and hidden paths looked intimidating, but it was also a perfect place to hunt and a prime hiding spot for a game of hide and seek.

“Hinata-kun?”

Shoyo jolted and looked over at Takeda, who was watching him with a gentle smile. It was only then that he realized his eyes had started stinging with tears. “Ah…sorry,” he murmured, rubbing a firm hand over his eyes. “It’s just…”

“It’s your home. Anyone would be excited to return, especially after a year.”

Gratitude warmed Shoyo’s chest and spread into a smile. “Yeah…I am.”

Home. He was home.

The familiarity of tying his horse just inside the barrier, making sure it had some food and water, and walking up the path to the house helped ease the nostalgic lump in Shoyo’s throat, and by the time he and Takeda were standing on the engawa, he had an eager grin tugging at his lips.

“Hinata-chan!” Takeda called, gently knocking at the wooden frame. “It’s Takeda!”

Shoyo could hear familiar footsteps hurrying through the house, before the front shoji screen slid open. “Ah, welcome Take— Shoyo!”

Takeda was momentarily forgotten as Shoyo’s mother wrapped her son in a warm hug. Shoyo could only laugh and move with her rocks back and forth. “Hi, Mom.”

“How are you here? When did you return from Edo? And Take-kun, you sneak! You didn’t tell me you’d be bringing Shoyo!”

“I’m sorry!” Takeda laughed, raising his hands in a gesture of innocence. “I wasn’t sure he’d be able to come, so I didn’t want to get your hopes up. But here he is!”

“Here he is,” Shoyo’s mother echoed softly, gazing at her son with adoration. Her dark hair was swept back in a bun, with a few strands falling loose around her ears and face. Even though he was used to seeing her a bit weary—it was practically a requirement of being a healer, especially the best healer in the domain’s capital—and even though she was glowing with happy surprise, Shoyo noticed the dark circles around her warm eyes and the sharper lines of her face. But before he could ask her anything, she was pulling away with a kiss to his forehead. “Well, come in, come in, you need to eat after your long journey.”

“Ah, I thought we might discuss the patient you’d written to me about—”

“Nonsense, Take-kun. A year in Edo hasn’t changed what Shoyo looks like when he’s hungry.”

Shoyo flushed to the sound of both mother and family friend laughing. “Well, then…thank you, Hinata-chan.”

Shoyo waited to follow Takeda into the house, falling back on his training despite being at his childhood home. But no amount of protocol could keep him from relaxing with a smile as he breathed in the familiar scent and took in the familiar view of his home.

By far the worst part of the mandated year-long stays in Edo was the distance from his family. He didn’t live with them, and his duties as a samurai kept him from visiting more than a few times a month. But his mother was stubborn about living at the outskirts of the capital, where she would be more accessible to the general populace, instead of in the fancier properties offered to the families of samurai.

Shoyo didn’t mind—he was as proud of his mother’s work as a healer as he was of his late father’s work as a samurai, and the fact she was able to live where she wanted spoke volumes to both her skill as a healer and the respect and love in her marriage.

There was just one thing missing, something that pricked at Shoyo through lunch and distracted him from Takeda and his mother catching up. It didn’t take long for his mother to notice his distraction. “Shoyo? Is everything alright?”

“Ah! Yeah, sorry, just…where’s Natsu?” Usually his little sister would’ve leapt into his arms the moment she heard their mother say his name, clinging to him like a monkey to a tree. It was how she always greeted him, even as a teenager, a routine so familiar that their mother had started calling her “little monkey.” It felt wrong, stepping into the house without having to wrestle her back to the ground.

Shoyo wasn’t sure what he expected his mother’s answer to be. Maybe Natsu was still out hunting, or was gathering some herbs, or back in town to pick up some supplies. Whatever Shoyo expected, it certainly wasn’t the sight of his mother’s face growing pale. “…Mom?”

“Natsu is…” She set her chopsticks down with a care that made Shoyo’s begin to shake in his hand. “She’s sleeping. She…she hasn’t been well.”

Dread spread cold through Shoyo. “Natsu hates naps.”

“She does. But lately, she hasn’t been able to get through the day without the extra rest, and when she is up, she can barely make it out of the house.” As Shoyo’s mother spoke, her focus moved from Shoyo to Takeda, turning his dread to ice as understanding began to set in. “She’s always out of breath and she tells me that it feels like her chest is stretched too tight and won’t let her fill it with enough air. Any time she tries—”

“—she ends up coughing so hard and for so long, you worry she might draw blood,” Takeda finished with a grave look, confirming Shoyo’s nervous suspicions. “She’s the patient you wrote to me about.”

Her lips quivered around a choked-back sob as she nodded. It took a deep, steadying breath for her to speak again. “Nothing I’ve tried has worked. I was…I was hoping you may have heard something in Edo that could help. I know it’s a long shot, and I’m sorry you had to make the trip, but—”

“Nonsense, don’t apologize,” Takeda gently interrupted. “The trip is nothing, especially if it’s to help your family.”

This time, she couldn’t stop a sob from escaping her as she clutched at one of Takeda’s hands with both of hers. “Thank you, Takeda. Thank you so much.”

“Of course. After lunch, may I see her? Checking her condition in person would help greatly, and, well…” A small, rueful smile curved Takeda’s lips. “I’d like to say hello.”

Shoyo’s mother offered a wavering smile, before spooning more meat into Takeda and Shoyo’s bowls.

The rest of lunch passed in a blur for Shoyo, lost in the news as his mother and Takeda’s quiet exchange of ideas faded into the background for him. Natsu—bright, happy, restless Natsu—being bedridden from sheer exhaustion…it didn’t feel real. It would probably continue to not feel real until he saw her for himself, but that just made him feel a sense of foreboding that weighed heavier and heavier as their bowls emptied and were eventually cleared from the table.

It was strange, seeing his mother leave the dirty dishes in the kitchen wash basin instead of cleaning them immediately. It added another detail to the picture of suppressed anxiety that was becoming clearer to him now that he knew Natsu was sick. He didn’t say anything when he saw her pause to lean on the basin with a white-knuckled grip, just hooked his arm through hers and rested his head on her shoulder.

The close proximity let him feel the shuddering breath she took before pressing a kiss to his hair and patting his cheek. “C’mon,” she whispered, untangling their arms and giving his hand a squeeze, “let me take you to her. She’ll be so excited to see you.”

The familiar walk to the room he and Natsu used to share felt off-center, thrown off-balance by the rock of dread settled in his stomach. He had to take a moment to steady his own breath before he slid the shoji screen open and let himself and Takeda inside.

There, curled up in a futon under a worn scrap of fabric he recognized as her old safety blanket, was Natsu. Her bright hair was the only part of her that was visible, peeking out from under her blanket. The sight brought a smile to Shoyo’s lips—she could argue endlessly that she wasn’t “little” anymore, but that would never stop her from being his baby sister.

“Go ahead,” Takeda murmured behind him with a pat on the shoulder. “Say hi.”

“Thanks, sensei.” Shoyo crept carefully across the tatami mats until he could crouch by the futon and lean over the shock of ginger hair. “Hey, Natchan.”

“Mm…” Natsu turned away, her face poking out from the blanket to better burrow into her pillow, as if she could physically block out Shoyo’s voice.

“Natsuuuuuu.”

“Hnnng, whaaaat?” she whined, finally turning back towards him and slowly blinking open her eyes. Annoyance was etched across her sleepy features, probably out of muscle memory more than anything—Shoyo had always had the unique displeasure of waking up Natsu when he still lived at home.

He waited patiently for her mind to catch up with her eyes. Sure enough, after an extra few beats, her eyes widened and she shot upright with a gasped, “Nii-chan!”

She lunged forward and wrapped her arms right around his shoulders, which were shaking from his laughter. “Hey, woah, careful,” he warned her, bracing himself on one hand to keep them from tumbling to the floor.

“What’re you doing here?” Shoyo could already hear the threat of a cough under her words, and he smoothed his hand up and down her back in a silent reminder to calm down. It worked, but not without a few choked-back coughs.

He shoved aside the worry pricking at him to focus on the joy of their reunion. “Oh, I’m here to arrest you.”

“No, you’re not!”

“I am, for the crime of not writing enough letters.”

“Nii-chaaaaan,” Natsu whined, burying her face in his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I really did try to write more this time.”

“Uh-huh, sure you did.”

“Don’t be mean to me!” she grouched, pulling away to pout at him, “I’m—!”

Her words choked off as panic fell over her face, before her eyes fell on Takeda hovering behind Shoyo and dread replaced her panic. “Oh. Hi, Takeda-sensei.”

“Hey, don’t sound so sad to see him,” Shoyo scolded quietly.

“It’s alright,” Takeda said with a soft laugh, “I think she knows why I’m here. I’d ask you how you’ve been, Natsu-chan, but your mother already told us.”

“Yeah…” Natsu’s eyes flickered from Takeda to Shoyo and back again. “Is…is that why you’re here, Nii-chan?”

“I’m here because sensei said he was visiting, and I wanted to come see you and mom. That’s all.”

Natsu stared hard at him, clearly looking for something in his expression, and he stared back, letting his face be as open and honest as he could without betraying his worry. Eventually she sighed and nodded, wilting in his arms to rest her head on his shoulder. It reminded Shoyo so much of the times she fell asleep on his shoulder in the middle of housework when they were much younger.

That, more than hearing the news from their mother nor seeing how pale and weak she looked now, made her illness fully sink in for him. His eyes stung as he hugged her close, noting the sharper lines of her bones bumping his fingers even through her yukata.

“Shoyo-kun.”

The soft call of his name jerked him out of his growing despair. “Yes, sensei?”

“I’m sorry to cut your greetings short, but may I have a moment to check over Natsu? The sooner I do so, the sooner I’ll have answers for all of you.”

“Oh! Yeah, of course.” He gently peeled Natsu away, his heart squeezing at the realization that she really had nearly nodded off on him. “Is that okay, Natchan?”

There was no mistaking the reluctance in her eyes, but she still nodded. Shoyo offered her a reassuring smile, waiting for her to return it with a weak smile of her own, before he pinched her nose and stood up. “Cheer up, monkey. Sensei and Mom will figure out what’s going on, and then we’ll get you good as new.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Stop trying to climb me like a tree.”

“There’s not much for me to climb anymore.”

Shoyo gaped at Natsu in mock-offense, relief spreading warm through him at the sight of her teasing smile. His relief didn’t stop him from giving her a little shove, sending her sprawling back against her futon with an indignant squawk. “You jerk!!”

“Begoodforsenseibyyyyye!” He slid the door shut behind him to the sound of Natsu shouting, “Mooooom!!” and Takeda laughing, and was met by their exasperated mother.

“Your sister is bedridden from illness, and you still can’t stop tormenting her?”

“Nah. She wouldn’t want me to.”

The bemused exasperation on his mother’s face melted into understanding and fondness as she wrapped a warm arm around his shoulders and tucked him into her side. “…We really have missed you, Shoyo.”

“I missed you guys, too.” His arm settled around her waist, and he bent enough to rest his head on her shoulder. It was still comforting, even with the larger height difference between them. “Can I help you with anything while sensei works?”

“Yes, actually.” His mother sounded exhausted, yet another sign of the physical toll Natsu’s illness had on her. “There’s some cleaning that I could use an extra set of hands for.”

Worry pricked at Shoyo again, but he hid it with a comforting smile. “Just tell me what to do.”

He’d been eager to help because he knew his mother needed it, of course, but he would’ve been lying to himself if he pretended he didn’t also crave the distraction and familiarity of his old chores. So when he helped with washing the dishes and sweeping the floors and sorting through the medicine stores, and still found his mind wandering back to the quiet bedroom, irritation began prickling through him along with his worry.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he finally burst out, accidentally startling his mother from where she was hanging bed sheets further down the line. “About Natsu?”

His mother watched him for a moment, before focusing back on securing the rest of the sheets. Only then did she turn back to him with a solemn, carefully blank expression that Shoyo recognized from all the times she needed to have a difficult conversation. “What could you have done, Shoyo? You were all the way in Edo. You couldn’t have left for something like this.”

“Soldiers have gone home for ill family members before! The daimyo himself has given permission!” Never mind that those permissions were typically given to soldiers with ill children or parents to take care of.

“Don’t. You know Natsu would never want you to neglect your work on her behalf.”

“But Mom—”

“Ah, excuse me.”

Mother and son whirled towards the house to see Takeda standing on the engawa with an embarrassed grimace. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but ah…I’m done with the examination.”

“Oh! Oh, wonderful.” Their conversation was forgotten in their urgency to get back inside and gather around the small table.

Takeda was a brilliant healer, and an incredibly kind-hearted one as well. But Shoyo had grown up learning, from his many visits to the family, that he was terrible at hiding his true feelings. Good news was preceded by a badly-suppressed smile, bad news was preceded by a crease in his brows, and news that he was nervous to deliver was preceded by restless hands.

His hands were restless now.

Shoyo noticed his mother’s eyes flickering down to those fiddling fingers before she asked, “Well…what are your thoughts?”

“Ah, yes, um…I had my suspicions from the symptoms you’d written to me about, but seeing her in person has confirmed them.” He took a slow, deep breath before he continued. “I couldn’t find much information on it, even in Edo. They call it the Crimson Breath, because the coughs it causes sometimes draws blood. It’s a very rare disease; that’s why not much is known about it, apart from the symptoms and a treatment that seems to have been able to consistently cure the few recorded patients who have had it.”

Shoyo’s heart leapt in his chest, and hope kept it pumping quickly as Takeda went on, “The treatment comes from the yamakumo flower. She’ll need a special tea from the flowers, and the leaves need to be burned for her to breathe in their vapor. Recovery will be long and slow, but in time she should be back in good health.”

Hope and relief shone from Shoyo’s mother’s eyes. “She…she can recover from this? Truly?”

“Well…yes…”

Her smile faded the longer she looked at Takeda. “You don’t…sound like you’re giving us good news.”

“Hinata-chan, I’m sorry…I’m so sorry, but the yamakumo flower is almost impossible to harvest, much less in the quantities Natsu would need. I could see how much is in the palace’s stores, but I fear not even the daimyo has enough.”

With that, Shoyo’s mother’s face crumpled back into despair. The sight of her hope being snatched away so quickly made desperation spark through Shoyo. “Why is it impossible to harvest?” he asked, struggling to keep his tone respectful instead of demanding. “Where does it grow?”

“It’s not just ‘where‘…it’s ‘when’ as well. The yamakumo flower grows at the tops of the hills and mountains surrounding the province, and blooms in the coldest winter months. The trek would already be perilous for a human, but with the snow…well, there are only two people who are known to have survived the journey. The rest…they never returned.”

“‘For a human’?” Shoyo repeated.

“Well, I imagine wolves and mountain goats and the like could make the journey, since they are built for that environment. But they wouldn’t be much help in harvesting.”

“No…no, they wouldn’t.” Shoyo fell silent as he thought over the information. There must be something, anything… Nothing came to him, except trying to become the third person to survive the journey. Even as he thought it, Shoyo knew it was impossible. But the alternative was to just…do nothing, and that felt even more impossible for him.

He fell silent as he turned this information over, not realizing how suspicious his silence was until his mother murmured, “Shoyo…Shoyo, don’t even think about it.”

Her low voice jolted him out of his thoughts, leaving him wide-eyed as he stared at her. “What?”

“I know what you’re thinking.”

“I’m not— I wasn’t—” He floundered under her unimpressed stare, unable to string together proper sentences.

His stammering made her heave a sigh, before she got to her feet and made her way outside. “Come with me.”

Shoyo’s instinct was to resist, to insist that they stay in the house to have this conversation, just to push back somehow. But it was useless when he knew why she wanted to talk outside. Natsu was already going to be feeling needlessly guilty over Shoyo coming home and seeing her this sick. He couldn’t imagine what it would do to her, to hear him and their mother argue over whether or not he should be allowed to risk his life for her.

So he shoved himself to his feet and marched outside, brushing past his mother to stand with his back to the house.

“Shoyo, there’s no way in all the heavens that I’m letting you attempt that trek. You heard what Takeda said. All but two people have died trying to get yamakumo flowers. I refuse to let you join those numbers.”

His nails bit into his palms. “Dad would’ve wanted to go.”

“Then I would’ve lost him to the mountains instead of the sea, and Natsu would be no closer to recovering!” Firm hands fell on his shoulders, and he let them turn him around to face his mother. His heart twisted at the sight of tears filling her eyes. “If you want to do something more directly, then you can visit home a little more often and help me take care of her and the house. Just…just not this. Anything but this.”

“Mom—”

“I will not trade one child for another.” Her firm voice made Shoyo’s words freeze in his throat. “You cannot ask that of me. I will do everything I can to help her, but I will not offer you up in exchange.”

“I didn’t…Mom, I would never ask you to…”

Her gaze softened at his wide eyes and guilty words, and she brought a gentle hand up to his cheek, her thumb tracing soft curves into his skin. “I know, love. I know. You want to take care of us, just like your father did. But he couldn’t make miracles happen, and neither can you. No one can.” A small, shaky smile pulled at her lips, and the sight made Shoyo wilt even more into her gentle hand. “You already do so much, and you’ve made us so proud. You don’t need to risk your life to prove something we already know.”

They stood there for a moment in a tense, solemn silence, before she sighed, “Well…we shouldn’t leave Takeda by himself for too long.” She began to move towards the house, not realizing that Shoyo wasn’t following her until she’d already reached the porch. “...Sweetheart?”

“I, um…I was thinking I could stay out here…maybe go hunting? Do you need any meat or skins?”

His mother’s concern softened into understanding. “Not ‘need,’ no. But why don’t you go see what you can find and surprise us?”

Relief nearly overwhelmed Shoyo—he was dreading going back inside and having to pin back his anger and grief into something gentler, softer, less likely to be caught by Natsu. At least now, he could use hunting as a way to work his anxieties into something softer, instead of holding them back at full force.

Even just the familiar act of finding his father’s bow and quiver, replacing the bow’s string and getting the old bamboo and wood to bend smoothly again, let his racing heart slow. By the time he left the yard and ventured into the woods, he had relaxed completely into his well-worn hunting state of mind.

It had been a while since he’d last hunted, especially with his father’s old bow, but he found himself falling back into old patterns. His muscles instinctively worked to let him be silent as he moved through the underbrush, and his ears only needed a few minutes to sharpen and hear every rustle, every chitter in this part of the forest.

What he heard now were the light steps of a deer, most likely a male judging by its weight. Perfect.

As he moved, he could see the faint moving outline of the deer, serving as a guide as he waited for the perfect opportunity to shoot it. He could have shot it while it was moving but he always preferred waiting for it to drink or eat. If it stood still, he would be able to land a perfect shot, killing it quickly and as painlessly as possible.

Then he heard something else, something that made his skin prickle: an extra set of footsteps, seemingly tracking the deer. They were heavy, assured, and measured, unlike any steps he’d heard before. Was there a new predator in the forest? After just a year away? That shouldn’t have been possible, but it was more possible than his ears fooling him.

Relax. Focus. He could aim and shoot quickly, if his mysterious pursuer decided to spring on him. For now, he just wanted to shoot this deer and get it home.

He got his chance soon. There was a small clearing between trees where the deer was able to reach some soft grass and underbrush. Shoyo slowed his breathing as he carefully, painstakingly drew and aimed an arrow at what he knew would be the weakest point in the deer’s skull. Death would be instant, painless, as easy as he could make it.

Breathe in, 2, 3…breathe out, 2, 3…now.

The arrow zipped through the bushes, giving the deer barely enough time to flinch at the moving air before Shoyo’s target was struck, followed quickly by another arrow through the neck for good measure. Perfect.

He slung the bow back in favor of a small dagger, ready to carve the arrows out if they were lodged too firmly. But when he kneeled by the body and grasped each arrow, proud relief filled him from how easily they slid out.

He tried to work quickly, cleaning and putting away the arrows before tying the deer up for him to carry home. And then, just as he finished tying the last knot, he became aware of those unfamiliar steps again, this time coming closer…and closer…

By the time his pursuer emerged from the underbrush, Shoyo was already on his feet with an arrow nocked. But no amount of preparation would have stopped the stab of fear in his chest: it was a wolf. A large, black wolf, with deep blue eyes, thick fur, huge paws, and sharp teeth…teeth that were currently bared at him.

If he were facing any other animal, something that he’d ever seen before, he would have loosed the arrow the moment he laid eyes on the creature. But this…this massive black shape with a piercing gaze…suddenly Shoyo was flung back to the dream that had been haunting him for months, maybe even more than a year at this point. Fear, confusion, and panic clashed within him, making his muscles freeze up and the arrow shake on the bowstring.

His hesitation should have been the death of him. Instead, something strange happened: the wolf calmed down, even though Shoyo’s arrow was still aimed at it. It sat, fur flattening and ears perking back up, with its tail held close to its sturdy paws. It almost looked…polite. Which was ridiculous, because this was a wild animal, not one of the army’s trained dogs, so why—

“I can help.”

Silence fell over the clearing, man staring down wolf…a wolf who just spoke. If its behavior had been ridiculous before, now it was just wholly impossible. And yet—perhaps because of how utterly dumbfounded he felt—Shoyo numbly asked, “...What?”

The wolf raised its chin, somehow managing to look down its snout at Shoyo despite sitting lower than him, and repeated in a low voice:

“I can help. You need the yamakumo flower. I can get it for you.”

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pearlsephoni · 1 year

Text

At the End of the Sun, Chapter 2

Can also be read on AO3!

Rating: This Chapter: T; Whole Work: E

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Pairing: Kagehina (Kageyama/Hinata)

Characters: Shoyo Hinata, Tobio Kageyama, Natsu Hinata, Mama Hinata, Ittetsu Takeda, brief cameos from Kazuyo Kageyama

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: In the light of Natsu’s illness, Shoyo is presented a way to give her the impossible cure.

A/N: Written for the @kagehinabigbang! Further author’s notes can be read on AO3.

Shoyo had seen some incredible things in his life. None of them were a talking wolf. Certainly not a talking wolf offering to help him save his sister. “How do you…how are you talking? What are you talking about? How do you know about the…the plant, the…any of this?”

The wolf’s ears flicked, drawing Shoyo’s attention to the fur beginning to rise along his neck. He wasn’t very familiar with wolf behavior, but it didn’t take much to guess that he was a little annoyed. “I…I heard you and your mother speaking outside. She said something about the yamakumo flower and the risk of gathering it. But the risk only exists for humans. A wolf…I could retrieve it for you.”

“But…why?” Shoyo’s hold on the bow and arrow weakened, letting the point of the arrow drift towards the ground. “Why would you do that for us?”

“Because you can give me something in return.”

His fingers tightened around the bow, but he kept it aimed down. “What could I give a talking wolf?”

“Company.” The wolf drew himself up, looking somehow regal as he met Shoyo’s gaze. “The mountains are a ways away. If you want to be able to prepare the plants for your sister, you’ll have to come live with me, prepare them there, then get them home.”

Uneasiness prickled through Shoyo. “For…for how long?”

“A year.”

“A year?!” he repeated. “The flowers only bloom in the winter, why would I need to be there for a year?”

“It’s not just for the plants. It’s…I’ll need the company for a year. That’s all I can tell you.”

It was ridiculous. It didn’t make sense. He still didn’t know why this wolf was able to speak. And yet… “So…if I come and live with you for a year, you’ll be able to harvest enough of the yamakumo to…to save my sister?”

“Your sister?”

“Yeah…she’s the one who needs it.”

“I…I see.” The wolf’s paws shifted in the soil. “Yes, I’ll harvest as much as you need, in exchange for a year.”

Shoyo’s throat clicked around his swallow as he nodded. “Okay…good. Then…I need to let my mother know.” He looked back the way he came, before whirling back towards the wolf. “You need to come with me.”

The wolf blinked. “...What? Why?”

“I can’t go home and tell my family that I’ll be gone for a year to live with a wolf who spoke and told me he’d get the flower. You need to come as…I dunno, as proof or something.”

“Oh. Right.” The wolf looked down at himself, almost as though he were remembering what he was. “Alright. Lead the way.”

Shoyo’s uneasiness around the wolf persisted as he slung his bow across his body and prepared the deer to be brought home. Even though his training demanded that he not hold a bow with a strung arrow outside of active combat or hunting, Shoyo still itched to hold some sort of weapon in his hands. But instead, he was stuck hauling the deer across his shoulders, keeping his hands completely occupied.

It felt surreal, to be leading a wolf back to his home, especially one so large and dark and similar to the creature that haunted his dreams. Really, the past five minutes–had it truly only been five minutes?–didn’t feel real. A talking wolf materialized in front of him, offered a way to save Natsu, and demanded Shoyo live with him for a year in return.

A year to save his sister. A whole year of his life, spent away from home and the palace and his work. Then again…what was one year in exchange for Natsu’s life?

“Shoyo?” His mother’s voice snapped him out of his musings, and he looked up to see her gaping at him from the porch. “Oh my goodness, will you look at that! Where on earth did you–?”

Her words choked off as her eyes drifted away from the deer Shoyo was slowly lowering to the ground. “Shoyo,” she breathed, eyes wide with alarm, “don’t move. There’s a wolf right behind you, oh spirits.”

“I…I know. You don’t have to worry.” It wasn’t until her eyes snapped back to stare at him in disbelief that he realized that he…did not have a plan. His mother suffered no fools, and the thought of telling her that he was planning on leaving for a year to live with a wolf who had offered to save Natsu…well, it sounded pretty foolish.

“What do you mean, you know? You knew you were leading a wolf to our home?!”

Then again, the alternative was worse.

“No! I mean, yes!”

“Which is it?!”

“Yes, I knew I was leading him here, but he’s not dangerous, I swear!” His mother’s disbelief was giving way to anger, and it only made Shoyo flounder more. “I– he– he’s going to help!”

“...What?”

“He’s telling the truth.”

The wolf’s words fell like a rock in the Hinatas’ yard. It took everything in Shoyo to hold back his grimace as he watched his mother’s eyes snap back and forth between him and the wolf. “Who…?”

“Your son’s telling the truth,” the wolf repeated, moving up to stand next to Shoyo and the deer. “I can help get the yamakumo flower for your daughter.”

“Shoyo.”

“...Yeah?”

“Who just said that?”

“The, uh…the wolf.”

“Ah.” His mother’s expression was impassive as she stepped down from the porch and weakly sat on its edge. “I…I was hoping I’d imagined that.”

“Yeah…I did, too.”

She could only nod for a moment, driven to silence as she visibly processed what she’d just seen and heard. And then, slowly and deliberately, she asked, “What do you mean, you can help get the flower?”

The wolf repeated what he had told Shoyo: that he could embark on the journey that would be life-threatening for Shoyo and harvest the flower that Natsu needed. Hope bloomed in Shoyo with the hope he saw widening his mother’s eyes.

Then the wolf mentioned needing something in return.

Shoyo watched with dread as his mother straightened in her seat, eyes flickering to him just long enough for him to see the foreboding settling in them. “What would that be?”

“A year,” Shoyo murmured, bringing her attention to rest on him. “I…I would have to live with him for a year.”

“No.”

“Mom–”

“Absolutely not.”

“Mom!”

“A year, Shoyo? Do you hear yourself? A year with a wolf? What on earth does he want a year with you for?”

“If he lives with me, he’ll be able to properly prepare the flowers before transporting them from the mountains to here,” the wolf spoke up. “And…well…I need the company. Never mind the reason.”

“I think I will mind the reason,” Shoyo’s mother bit out. “That’s my son you’re talking about. He has a family, a job, a whole life you are asking him to leave behind for an entire year. You want him to give up all of that without telling him why?”

“What does it matter?” Shoyo cried. “Can’t the ‘why’ be Natsu? If this is the only way we can get her that flower, then why shouldn’t I agree to the deal?”

She stared at him in silence, letting him watch emotions flicker like fireflies over her familiar features: disbelief, anger, understanding, grief, and finally, determination. It was with that emotion in her eyes that she finally looked back at the wolf. “Prove it.”

Both Shoyo and the wolf stared at her. “...I’m sorry?”

“Prove that you can get the yamakumo. Then I’ll know that you can uphold your side of the deal, and maybe, maybe I’ll let Shoyo go with you.”

Shoyo could count on one hand all of the times he’d seen his mother’s eyes harden and jaw tighten quite like that. An instinctive part of him felt nervous at the sight, but it didn’t stop him from protesting, “Mom, I can make my own choice! If this is the best way to help Natsu, then I want to do it!”

“Then you’re a greater fool than I thought,” she snapped. “Think of what he’s asking of you, Shoyo. He’s asking you to give up a year of your life for something we’re not even certain he can do. And it’s not just you. He’s asking me to give up my son, asking Natsu to give up her brother, asking the daimyo to give up one of his most promising samurai.” She turned her eyes back on the wolf, whose fur, Shoyo was surprised to see, had started raising. It immediately flattened under his mother’s glare. “Go get a yamakumo flower. Prove to us that it’s possible. Then, and only then, will we seriously consider your offer.”

When the wolf spoke, his voice sounded strained, and Shoyo wasn’t sure if he was trying to conceal the waver of fear or anger. “The yamakumo flower doesn’t bloom for months.”

“Then get us the plant. I’ll be able to identify it without the flower.”

Silence fell over the clearing, so heavy it was almost oppressive, as Shoyo’s mother and the wolf stared at each other. “Alright,” the wolf eventually conceded. “I’ll return in a week with the plant. Will we have a deal then?”

“We can discuss a deal then,” Shoyo’s mother corrected.

The wolf’s ears twitched, but he nodded. “...I can see why you became a warrior,” he said, looking at Shoyo. “It looks like ferocity runs in your family.”

A smile curved over Shoyo’s face despite the frustration still brewing in him. “Yeah…yeah, I know.”

Something made the wolf pause, dark eyes watching Shoyo for a beat, before he quietly ordered, “Be ready to leave in a week. I’ll see you then.”

His confidence and casual command startled Shoyo into simply nodding. Nothing else was said. The wolf nodded back, first to Shoyo, then to his mother, then turned and disappeared into the forest. Shoyo waited for the underbrush to return to still silence before he let out a low whistle. “Geez, Mom. Who knew you could make a wolf nervous?”

“Never mind that,” she huffed. “Who knew wolves could speak and try to steal away my son?”

“Mom.”

“Don’t ‘mom’ me.” She pinched at his nose, though she couldn’t quite match his warrior’s reflexes, and she ended up pinching at air when he managed to dodge her fingers. “I can’t believe you were so ready to just…give up a year of your life like that.”

Shoyo shrugged, stubbornly ignoring the warmth creeping across his cheeks. “I was just…I was desperate. It sounded like a better way to get the flower, instead of, uh…dying.”

His mother shook her head with a fond, exasperated smile. “My goodness, that brain of yours. Have you even thought about your work? What army would let one of their most promising soldiers disappear for a year?”

“I’m not going to disappear,” Shoyo huffed, pointedly ignoring her actual question. “I’ll go back with Takeda-sensei tomorrow and let Captain Ukai know. I can tell him that Natsu is sick and I need to help take care of her. It’s not really a lie.”

“Shoyo.”

“It’s not! I…I might have to speak to Kageyama-sama directly, though.” A slow shudder slid down his spine at the thought. He had only ever seen the daimyo in person a handful of times. The old man somehow struck a balance between having a kind demeanor and regal air about him. It made him one of the more-approachable daimyos in the country, but it also made it more difficult for Shoyo to guess what his response to his requested absence would be. “That might be my only chance to be allowed back after a year.”

The idea clearly unnerved his mother—her face paled and her eyes widened as he spoke. “Shoyo, you can’t even guarantee that you’ll get an audience with him.”

“No, but…I have to try.”

“Oh, my darling boy,” his mother sighed, cupping his face and making him meet her sad eyes. “Are you absolutely certain about this? It would kill Natsu, knowing you lost the work you love for her sake.”

“We don’t know that I will!” he tried to reassure her. “Maybe I won’t! Just…please don’t tell her anything about that, not until I know for sure?”

His mother gazed at him for a moment before sighing and nodding. “Alright. But the moment we know, you have to tell her. Promise me.”

“I promise.” The words came instantly, quick as an instinct.

“Good.” Her hands slid away from his cheeks as she heaved another sigh. “Well now…let’s get to work on this beauty.”

The reminder of the buck was a relief. Shoyo was only too ready to begin the familiar, arduous work of taking the body apart, but just as he began sharpening his carving knife, Takeda stumbled to the still-open shoji screens. “Takeda-chan?” Shoyo’s mother asked, her voice nearly cracking on her surprise and worry. “What’s going on?”

“I…I thought I heard…” His eyes looked borderline-crazed as they scanned the yard, until the craze was replaced by defeat. “Ah. I thought I heard a familiar voice. I must have been mistaken.”

Shoyo and his mother exchanged a shared look of alarm and confusion–had he heard the wolf? Did he recognize the wolf’s voice? How would they even begin to explain everything that had happened in the past hour? Then his mother slipped into a practiced smile as she joked, “Familiar voices? Do you mean ours?”

“No no, I, ah…well, never mind.” He straightened up as he adjusted his glasses, before shooting his own practiced smile at mother and son. “My, Shoyo-kun, that’s quite the kill!”

“Oh, thank you, sensei,” Shoyo said with a shy laugh.

“We’ll finish carving it and we’ll be right in,” his mother told Takeda, “unless you would like to help?”

“Oh! Um. Perhaps I could help with things…inside?”

Shoyo struggled to bite back a laugh as his mother smilingly asked Takeda if he wouldn’t mind sweeping the floors, please? She didn’t turn back to Shoyo until the other healer had closed the screens behind him.

“Tomorrow,” she murmured, smile sliding off her face. “We’ll tell him everything tomorrow. And when you come back in a week, we’ll tell Natsu everything as well, alright?” She phrased it as a question, but Shoyo knew better.

“Alright.”

For the rest of the evening, he could almost forget about the wolf and the strange, impossible deal he’d offered. He could pretend that this was just another visit home, helping his mother with familiar, difficult chores.

But when Shoyo finally crawled into his old futon and drifted to sleep, it was to visions of sharp teeth, black fur, and dark blue eyes.

—————————————————~☾~—————————————————

By this point in his life, at 21 years old with a few years of being a samurai under his belt, Shoyo knew that the first day of any endeavor was never the hardest day. But he really felt he could be forgiven for hoping the exception would be finding out his sister was struggling with a potentially-fatal illness.

Of course that wasn’t the case. The next morning, once Shoyo helped Natsu get settled back into her futon after breakfast, he attempted to explain the…situation to Takeda. His mother let him do the talking, either because she thought he ought to take responsibility for making a deal with a talking wolf or because she still didn’t fully understand everything. Shoyo couldn’t be sure, but he didn’t really blame her either way.

Strangely enough, while Takeda definitely looked stunned by the whole ordeal, he didn’t seem specifically surprised by the news of the wolf. If anything, he was more curious about the how of the speaking wolf moreso than the what. “If he was the voice I heard last night,” he murmured, staring hard at the table as he thought through everything, “then why did he sound so familiar? I really feel as though I’ve heard that voice before.”

“Well…regardless,” Shoyo’s mother gently piped up, “do you think you’ll be able to help Shoyo get a year off approved?”

“Ah! Yes! I mean…it will be difficult, and there’s only so much sway I have as the daimyo’s healer,” Takeda warned, “but I can at least be there to vouch for the severity of Natsu’s illness.”

“That’s perfect, sensei, thank you!” Shoyo shifted away from the table to bow low to Takeda, ignoring the healer’s stammering attempts to get him to stop. “Anything I say about Natsu wouldn’t be believed as much without your help. Thank you.”

“Of course, Shoyo-kun. I only wish there were more I could do to help.”

“You’ve already been an immense help,” Shoyo’s mother reassured him. “We would not have even known what was ailing Natsu, much less how to cure her, if it hadn’t been for you.”

Any hope Shoyo felt following breakfast began to seep out of him once he and Takeda began the journey back to the palace. With nothing else but riding his horse available to occupy him, it wasn’t long before he began thinking a little too hard over everything: Natsu’s illness, the wolf, being separated from his entire life, his entire world, for a year.

It didn’t make sense that so much could have changed in 24 hours. He had come home ready to simply spend some time with his family. Now he was leaving home with his entire future up in the air.

His return to the palace grounds spurred a series of news and explanations that he repeated countless times: to Yamaguchi and Tsukishima, to his other friends, to Captain Ukai. The news in turn spurred a series of reactions: pity, sadness, exhaustion in the captain’s case, acceptance from all.

Which left the daimyo himself.

By some stroke of luck, Takeda was able to arrange an audience with the daimyo for Shoyo the day before he was due back at home. Shoyo’s things were already packed and ready to go, but he couldn’t let himself think about the fact that he might never be able to bring them back to the place that had been his home for so many years.

His pulse sped up with every step he took towards the throne room, until he was kneeling in front of the daimyo with his heart practically leaping out of his throat.

“Ah…Hinata, was it?”

“Yes, Kageyama-sama.”

“Please, look up. Let me look at the samurai trying to escape for a year.”

“Your Grace, I would never–” The words died on Shoyo’s tongue when he looked up and was met with a kind, if not a little teasing, smile on Kazuyo Kageyama’s face.

“There he is. Captain Ukai and Healer Takeda tell me you are planning on leaving us for a year?”

“Yes, Kageyama-sama.”

“In order to help your mother take care of your ill sister?”

“Yes, Kageyama-sama.” Maybe he should’ve felt alarmed by how easy the lie was becoming to say, but the time to dwell on that was not when he was face-to-face with his daimyo.

“And you are hoping to be able to return to the samurai forces in a year?”

His use of the word “hoping” made the small kernel of hope in Shoyo get slowly buried by dread and defeat. “...Yes, Kageyama-sama.”

“You can understand why that idea gives me some pause.”

“I…yes. Kageyama-sama.” His fingers curled into the folds of his kimono over his lap.

“Have you given any thought to what you might do if you were not allowed to return?”

The lord’s eyes were not unkind, but the question still made Shoyo’s stomach clench. “Yes, Kageyama-sama. I would try to find work as a ronin, or…” The knot in his stomach tightened. “...or I would commit seppuku, if you saw fit. I understand what I’m asking could be seen as a slight to your family, though I would never deliberately cause such an insult. I…I only ask that, if this punishment is decided on, Your Grace allows me to ensure my mother and sister are healthy and safe before I go forth with the act.”

Lord Kageyama didn’t allow any emotions to slip through his kind features as Shoyo spoke, though his eyes did widen the tiniest fraction when Shoyo uttered the word “seppuku.” Once Shoyo finished speaking, the daimyo started with, “Young man, your concern for your family would never be seen as a slight to my own.”

Just like that, the knot in Shoyo’s stomach eased as he let out a slow sigh of relief. But he kept his hands clenched in his lap, hesitant to let hope in just yet.

“Your loyalty and honor belong to my family. Your love belongs to yours. Go, take care of them.” Before joy could fully wash over Shoyo, Lord Kageyama’s dark blue eyes sharpened, and his mouth curved into an almost-indistinguishable frown. “But when you return next year, I will expect your skills to be as they were when you left. There is no place for an untrained, unpracticed samurai in the ranks of my army. You’d do well to keep that in mind.”

“Yes, Kageyama-sama. I…I would never neglect my training.”

“Good. Well, then…I suppose we’ll see you in a year.” At Shoyo’s wide eyes, Lord Kageyama let his lips pull back into a kind smile. “May your sister enjoy a swift and thorough recovery, Hinata-kun.”

“Thank you, my Lord. Thank you!”

Shoyo wasn’t fully in the clear: he still had some things to discuss with Captain Ukai regarding who would cover for his duties, as well as finally let Tsukishima and Yamaguchi know about his departure.

But when he made his way back home to meet with the wolf, Shoyo left the palace grounds assured that there would be a place for him to return to, which was more than he had believed he would get.

His joy and relief was a fragile thing, though, weak enough to be dashed when he was returned home with Takeda and saw his mother already waiting for him on the engawa.

“Shoyo-kun.” He looked up at where Takeda was still perched on his horse. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No. Thank you, sensei, but…I should do this alone.”

And so, with a shaky attempt at a reassuring smile, Takeda rode away, leaving Shoyo to cross the yard by himself.

As soon as his mother caught sight of him, her eyes widened and her mouth opened to ask a question. “I’m okay,” he told her, grinning when her mouth slowly shut again. “Takeda-sensei got me an audience with Lord Kageyama, and he gave me permission to return. I…I’ll be able to go back in a year.”

“Oh, Shoyo,” his mother gasped, bundling him into a tight hug. “That might be the first bit of good news I’ve heard in months.” Contrary to her words, when she pulled away, Shoyo could see her posture tensing up again. “Are you ready to tell Natsu everything?”

“Are you sure? We still haven’t see the wolf, maybe he–”

“Hello.”

His mother’s head snapped up, and Shoyo whirled around to see the large, dark shape of the wolf approaching up the path. Around his neck, he wore a small pouch, and from the way he held his head high, it wasn’t difficult to guess what was in it.

Still, the wolf announced, “I’ve brought the yamakumo.”

“Oh.” Joy and dread clashed across Shoyo’s mother’s features–joy of a possible cure for her daughter, and dread of what that meant for Shoyo. She was silent as she carefully opened the pouch around the wolf’s craned neck and drew out a leafy stem. Her silence grew heavy in the yard, stretching on with every second she took to inspect the stem, the leaves, even the roots that still clung to small clumps of dirt.

When she finally spoke, her soft voice melted the silence instead of breaking it. “You did it. This is yamakumo.”

The wolf let out a quiet huff before asking, “Then does that mean our deal still stands?”

Shoyo’s mother bit her lip as she turned to look at him. “I…I think that’s up to you, love.”

His answer was instant, even as his throat ached with it. “I’ll do it. But I need to tell my sister first. She needs to know about…about everything.”

“...Nii-chan?”

Shoyo’s stomach dropped. He whirled around to see Natsu peering at him from just behind the shoji screens, eyes wide with shock. “Natsu…shit, I…what’re you doing down here?”

“I heard your voice, and I…Nii-chan, what’s going on?”

This wasn’t how Shoyo wanted this to happen. He’d planned on telling Natsu everything after he had a few moments to figure out exactly what he was going to say. He was going to see her in her futon, so she’d be able to turn away and burrow back into her comfort if the news upset her.

Instead, he was coaxing her to sit with him and their mother, and clumsily explaining to her that he had figured out a way to get the yamakumo flower, but that it would keep him away from home for another year. No, he wasn’t going to risk his life to get it himself. Yes, he really did have to be gone for that long. No, he wasn’t being blackmailed into doing this. He wanted to do this, wanted to do whatever he could to help Natsu heal. No, this wasn’t her fault. He was doing this because he wanted to, not because she’d asked.

None of his reassurances could hold back her tears. “B-but you’re going to be alone,” she cried, looking almost furious for him despite her soaked cheeks. “A whole year alone, Nii-chan, that’s not fair! No one should go through that!”

“I won’t be alone, Natchan!”

“Then who–?”

“I’ll be there.”

Shoyo didn’t think it was possible, but Natsu’s eyes got even wider when she stared at the wolf. “You…you talked.”

“I did. I do.”

Natsu’s eyes bounced between the wolf, Shoyo, and their mother, before they settled back on the wolf. “Are you…how we’ll get the yamakumo?”

“I am.”

“Oh…thank you. But um…why do you need my brother for a year?”

“Natsu,” Shoyo hissed, “don’t worry about that. It’s nothing compared to what we’ll get in return.”

“It’s a whole year, Nii-chan! That’s not nothing!” She was pale and skinny and wore dark circles under her eyes, and she still looked as fierce as the strongest soldiers Shoyo had marched beside. “I don’t want you to do this!”

“It’s my choice to make. Let me make it, Natchan.”

A deep furrow appeared between Natsu’s brows the longer she glared at Shoyo, but Shoyo stared back just as resolutely, and eventually his little sister wilted. She never could out-stubborn him, no matter how much she tried. “Then…is this the last time I’ll see you?”

“I think so…but it’s just for a year! I’ll be back before you know it, and you’ll be all better by then, you’ll see!”

Natsu didn’t say anything to that. She just gazed at Shoyo, eyes flickering around his face like she was carving it into her memory, the way she always did before the daimyo’s year-long pilgrimages to Edo.

Then, without warning, she was flinging herself into his arms, burying her face into his shoulder. “Easy there, monkey girl.”

For once, she didn’t complain about the nickname. She just murmured, so soft he almost didn’t hear her, “I’ll miss you, Nii-chan. You really won’t be able to visit?”

“I dunno…we’ll have to see. But don’t get your hopes up, okay?”

“Okay.” She squeezed him tight, like he was her old plush bunny. “...Love you.”

“What was that?”

“You heard me!”

“I don’t think I quite caught that.”

“Nii-chan!” Natsu whined, pushing away from Shoyo and pouting at his laughter. “Don’t be mean!”

“I’m not being mean, I’m just making sure you won’t miss me too bad!” His laughter faded into a melancholic smile as he turned to his mother, who was already watching him with tears shining in her eyes.

She silently held her arms open, and he silently fit himself into them, pressing his forehead to her shoulder as she rocked him back and forth.

“Whatever happens, Shoyo,” she whispered at his ear, “you can always come home. Do you hear me? If you want to get out of this deal with the wolf, or if you can’t return to the daimyo, you can always come back to us. Always.”

“I know,” he whispered back, his breath nearly catching on the lump in his throat. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you, too, my little sun.” Shoyo’s heart ached at the tears glistening in her eyes when she pulled back to press a kiss to his forehead. “Stay safe. This year will feel even longer without you.”

“It will for me, too. But I’ll be okay, I promise.” His eyes stung as he stepped out of his mother’s arms and turned to his sister, and they began brimming when he reached out and ruffled her hair. “I love you, Natchan.”

His solemn words made fresh tears fill Natsu’s eyes, and Shoyo caught the first drop falling just as she pressed her face to their mother’s shoulder. “Go,” their mother whispered, already crying, even as she nodded at the wolf waiting behind him. “You have a long trip. Don’t keep him waiting.”

Everything in Shoyo screamed to steal one more hug, press one more kiss to Natsu’s hair and their mother’s cheek, murmur one last goodbye. But their mother was right. It was time he began the journey to what would be his home for the coming year.

So, with a last sigh, he shouldered his pack and turned to the wolf, wiping at his eyes before shakily declaring, “Alright. Let’s go.”

The wolf didn’t move for a moment, just sat there and watched Shoyo in silence. He only stood when Shoyo met his eyes, giving himself a little shake before echoing, “Let’s go.”

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