At the End of the Sun, Ch 15: Consequences
Can also be read on AO3!
Rating: Chapter: T; Whole Work: E
Fandom: Haikyuu!!
Pairing: Kagehina (Kageyama/Hinata)
Characters: Shoyo Hinata, Tobio Kageyama, Tooru Oikawa, Miwa Kageyama
Word Count: Chapter: 3.7k; Whole Work: 160k
Summary: Morning brings a dreaded arrival.
A/N: Originally published on AO3 on March 11th. Further author's notes can be found there.
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“Oikawa…he’s coming.”
Shoyo’s blood turned to ice. “…What? How do you know?”
“The curse. It helps him find me. He didn’t bother before, but now that I’ve failed, he’s going to come for me. I…I have to…” Still leaning on the doorframe, Tobio stumbled over the threshold and into the house, leaving Shoyo to hurry after him.
His breath caught when Tobio made his way towards the room they’d shared…and turned to the door across from it. It was the door to the only room in the whole house he hadn’t seen, the only promise he’d managed to keep despite everything. He’d always been aware of the latch at the opening edge of the shoji screen, but not the minuscule keyhole below it.
Tobio plucked an even smaller key from the top of the screen and fumbled to fit it into the hole, his hands shaking as he finally got it to click into place and slide open the screen. He began to step inside, only to pause when his eyes landed on Shoyo and widened, as though he’d forgotten about him in his clumsy panic. “Um…you can come in,” he muttered, his cheeks growing pink beneath his averted eyes. Shoyo could only nod and silently follow him in.
Inside was an almost-perfect mirror of his own room: the same dresser, the same lamp on top, the same closet and small window. But where Shoyo’s room had come to feel lived-in over the months, this one felt…cold, even a bit dusty. The only signs that the room had been used were the hastily-folded blankets in the cracked-open closet and the bow and arrows propped in the corner. A chill slid down Shoyo’s spine at the realization that those were the bow and arrows that had killed the shape-shifting man and gotten Tobio cursed.
Shoyo was silent and still as a statue while Tobio bustled around the room, digging out a pack from the closet and shoving items from the dresser into it. Once he tied it closed, he knotted a leather strap around his neck and took out a fine set of clothes. When he pulled on the hakama that went under the matching kimono and turned around, Shoyo wasn’t surprised to see a familiar blue stone hanging from the necklace.
His attention was quickly pulled to Tobio’s face at the sound of a soft grunt, and he found him grimacing as his hand rose to his chest. His movements had loosened the wax from the wounds it had burned into his skin, but the burns themselves were still there, pulling tight every time he tried to raise his arm.
Guilt was sour on Shoyo’s tongue as he hurried over and lowered Tobio’s hand. “Let me,” he whispered, taking the clothes from his hands. Tobio’s tense features slowly relaxed as Shoyo helped him slip into the underrobes and the deep blue kimono over it. “It was yours,” Shoyo realized, looking up at Tobio’s confused expression.
“What?”
“The kimono you gave me. That’s why it’s big on me—it was tailored down from yours.”
Just like that, Tobio’s confusion was replaced by a bright red blush and averted eyes. “Um…yeah.”
“Did you want us to match?” Shoyo asked innocently as he belted the obi around Tobio’s trim waist.
“I didn’t want to ask Nee-san to get a new kimono,” Tobio mumbled, keeping his gaze fixed on Shoyo’s busy hands instead of his eyes. “And…I didn’t…mind matching with you.”
His gruff bashfulness was so much more endearing when Shoyo could see it creep over his human features. He loved him so much, he almost couldn’t breathe from it, and he couldn’t resist leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Me too,” he whispered, smiling when Tobio finally met his gaze with wide eyes.
With the last ties secured, Shoyo smoothed down the folds of the kimono with a quiet, “All done.”
Before he could step away, Tobio caught his face in gentle hands and pressed a sweet, chaste kiss to his lips. “Thank you,” he murmured with another kiss. He winced as he let Shoyo go, his hands leaving his cheeks to rub at his own chest over his heart. “Shit…he’s almost here.”
He scooped up his pack with one hand and grabbed Shoyo’s hand with the other, leading the way back outside…only to freeze on the engawa.
He suddenly turned to face Shoyo, who could only watch him with wide eyes. “Shoyo,” he muttered urgently, gently holding his cheeks, “go back inside and stay there. When he gets here, he can’t see you. I don’t know what he’ll try to do to you.”
“What? No! I’m not hiding!” Shoyo didn’t care about how childish he sounded—he only cared about staying by Tobio’s side and keeping him safe.
“You’re not hiding. You’re letting me protect you.”
“I don’t need protection!” He grabbed at Tobio’s hands, keeping them pressed to his cheeks. “I’m a samurai, I’ve been training, I can fight!”
“I know you can, but not against him.”
“Just let me—”
“Quit arguing and listen to me, dumbass.” Despite everything, despite his panic and annoyance, there was still a note of affection in Tobio’s voice. “When we leave, wait for an hour, and then go home. Take care of your family, of Natsu. Go back to your work, be a samurai, live your life again.”
“What about you? How will I see you again?”
That made Tobio pause, doubt and grief flickering over his face before he shook his head. “You can’t. I don’t know what Oikawa will do to me, but he can’t see you. He can’t know who you are.”
Shoyo shook his head furiously, clinging to Tobio’s hands at his cheeks. “No! No, I’ll come find you, I can save you, just like you saved Natsu!”
“You can’t, Shoyo. Even if I wanted you to, it’s impossible. Oikawa’s palace is at the end of the sun. No mortal human can find it, not unless he wants them to.” Tobio rested his forehead against Shoyo’s, his sigh ruffling his ginger strands. “I’m not worth it, Sho. Go live your life again. Soon, this’ll all just be a distant memory.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it!” Shoyo’s throat was growing tight around the threat of tears, but he didn’t care. He just needed Tobio to believe him. “Do you want to see me again?”
“What? Yeah, of course I do. But—”
“Then I’ll come for you. I don’t care what it takes, I’ll come for you, I swear.”
Tobio pulled away and stared at him, eyes flickering over his features as though he were trying to memorize them, before he pressed their lips together in a deep, lingering kiss. Then, before Shoyo’s eyes could fully open again, he was being pushed back further into the house. By the time he stopped stumbling over the mats, the doors had slid shut, and he could hear the sound of the storm panels closing as well.
He moved to wrench the screens open, when thunder rumbled over the house. Light flashed through the tiny gap between the closed doors, bright and quick enough that Shoyo would’ve believed it was lightning if he hadn’t just seen the clear sky.
“Oh my…I’d forgotten how…quaint your little home away from home was.”
“Oikawa-sama.”
“Why, hello, little prince.” The new voice was smooth, charming, with a venomous edge that made a shiver run down Shoyo’s spine. “My, aren’t you handsome in the sunlight? I’d almost forgotten. Although the moonlight really does suit you so well.”
Tobio remained silent. Shoyo wished he could see what he looked like—all he could imagine was his wolf form, sitting with his ears flat against his head and his fur rising around his neck.
“You’re being awfully spare with your words.”
“What is there to say?” Tobio finally answered, his voice low and rough. “I’ve failed the conditions to break the curse. Aren’t you going to take me away somewhere and punish me more?”
“Goodness, princeling, show some patience. We’ll get to my lovely abode, all in good time. Let me look around, see how you’ve settled in. It really has been so long since my last visit.”
Princeling? Little prince? How strange. Tobio could be a bit gruff and demanding sometimes, but Shoyo didn’t think that warranted so many nicknames.
“There…there really isn’t much to see…sir. L-like you said, it’s a small home.”
“Then that’ll make it easier for me to find what I’m looking for.”
“…Sir?”
“Let’s see here…”
“Sir…sir, wait!”
A gust of wind suddenly blew Shoyo back, sending him sprawling over the floor as the shoji screens and storm panels opened with loud clacks.
There, standing in front of a stricken Tobio, was a tall, handsome man. “Handsome” didn’t feel quite right, though. “Pretty” suited him better: soft chestnut hair fell over his face in a careful tousle, and glinting brown eyes peered from beneath. His smooth skin, free of any scars or blemishes, straight nose, and delicate pink lips made him look even more regal than Tobio.
His kimono only added to the air of royalty about him, with its intricate gold embroidery sewn into glistening silk. Shoyo had only once seen a color quite like it: not quite green, not quite blue. It was like the sea on a sunny day.
Like the candle his mother had given him.
“There you are,” the man murmured in that charming, frightening voice. He stepped gracefully onto the engawa, his raised sandals clicking across the dark wood before the sound became dulled on the tatami mats. Shoyo couldn’t move, helpless to the man’s approach.
“Oikawa-sama—”
“Quiet.” The word was curt and firm, with none of the false charm that had colored his voice before.
Part of Shoyo hadn’t wanted to believe that this was Oikawa. When he’d imagined the cruel, powerful sorcerer who had cursed Tobio, he’d imagined someone much older and more frightening, not this pretty young man now standing in front of him.
“Would you look at that hair,” Oikawa murmured with something like awe. He crouched in front of Shoyo and played with a lock of his hair, as though he were a doll and not a living human. “I’m amazed you managed to go so long without seeing our prince—this hair could have lit up even the darkest of rooms.”
Words were beyond Shoyo, not that Oikawa seemed interested in what he had to say. He grasped Shoyo’s chin and tilted his face up, looking over his features with an almost clinical gaze. “I suppose you are handsome, in a humble way. And you must be strong, if you’re a samurai. Ah!” Oikawa suddenly looked over his shoulder with a dangerous smile. “Is that why you chose him, princeling? Wanted a bit of home with you?”
Home? Shoyo’s gaze finally drifted from Oikawa to Tobio, who was standing, frozen, on the engawa. “N-no, I didn’t— he was just—”
“I’m not a ronin,” Shoyo finally spoke up, his voice hoarse from fear. “I serve the daimyo of this domain.”
Oikawa didn’t look upset at being corrected. No, he looked…delighted. “You don’t know?”
“Oikawa-sama—”
“Tell me, little samurai. Do you know his name?”
Indignance flared in Shoyo’s chest. “Of course I do. His name is Tobio.”
“And his family name?”
“I—! I…” He looked back at Tobio, his heart sinking at the look of pure fear on those handsome features. What was his family name? Why hadn’t he told him?
“His family name is Kageyama. The same Kageyamas that you so proudly serve.”
A shard of ice sliced straight through Shoyo’s heart. “W…what?”
“Oh, yes. Your lovely companion here is Tobio Kageyama, grandson and heir of the daimyo.” The grandiose nature of Oikawa’s words made an unnerving contrast to the disdainful curl in his lip. “I’m not in the habit of cursing any given person. No no, only spoiled heirs who kill the love of my life and won’t have to deal with any consequences.”
Another piece in this whole, confusing puzzle snapped into place, making Shoyo feel sick with how foolish he’d been. Of course, of course…it all made sense. That was why his name had sounded so familiar: not only because he was a friend from a distant memory, but because he was the daimyo’s heir. He’d only ever heard of him—by the time Shoyo was old enough to be allowed to work directly with the daimyo and his family, the princess had already gotten married and the prince had gone missing.
The fear on Tobio’s face was quickly giving way to a dark, silent fury aimed at the back of Oikawa’s head. If the sorcerer noticed, then he simply didn’t care. But at Shoyo’s quiet, “Tobio…?”, those dark blue eyes snapped to his, and he watched the fury melt into guilt. “Sho, I didn’t…I couldn’t…”
“All this time? Even when we were kids?”
“I’m sorry,” Tobio whispered, entreaty shaking in every word. “You were the only one who liked me, not my position. I…I didn’t want you to treat me like—”
“Oh, do spare me,” Oikawa cut him off with a sigh. “I think we’ve lingered here long enough. It was a…delight to finally meet you, little samurai. Well done tolerating this murderous, sniveling fool.” He stood up in a quiet, musical ruffle of his silken kimono, deliberately bumping into Tobio’s shoulder as he went back outside. “Come, Tobio-chan.”
Tobio started to follow him, only to abruptly freeze. Shoyo still wasn’t used to reading his human body language, didn’t know what to make of the slow ascent of his shoulders.
Then Tobio whirled back around and surged towards Shoyo, falling to his knees in front of him. “Tobi—?”
He didn’t let Shoyo finish—he pressed their lips together in a slow, tender kiss that made Shoyo’s eyes sting with tears. Tobio pulled away with a breathed, “I love you,” and then, before Shoyo could even finish saying his name, he hurried back outside to stand next to an impassive Oikawa.
“W-wait!” Shoyo choked out, scrambling across the floor to the porch. It was too late: a single snap of Oikawa’s fingers was all it took for the sorcerer to disappear with Tobio in tow, with another flash of light and a thunderous rumble.
Shoyo could only stare at the now-empty space, not yet able to comprehend what had just happened.
He was alone. He had broken his promise, ruined Tobio’s chances at breaking his curse, and now he was alone.
And the worst part was, he was lucky. Tobio could have run off as soon as Shoyo broke his trust, but instead he stayed, explained everything, held him and kissed him and whispered tender words to him. It had almost been enough to let Shoyo forget the danger, but then the shock of Oikawa’s arrival and Tobio’s departure with him was made that much worse.
Frustration filled him when he felt tears welling up again—he was a soldier, a samurai, why was he crying so much? But no amount of anger with himself could keep the tears from overflowing, nor could it keep a sob from bursting forth.
His whole body ached from the sobs wracking through him. It was like every heave of his shoulders, every tremble of his chest, and every quiver of his lips and clench of his jaw were chipping away at his heart and leaving behind a deep, gaping, hollow space. He had never felt such pure, devastating heartbreak before. He didn’t know it was possible to hurt so much without a scratch on his body.
Shoyo didn’t know how long he stayed curled over the floor, soaking the engawa with his tears and clutching at his chest to drag in air between his sobs. Time meant nothing. Even when he had nothing left to cry, he didn’t get up; he just fell into his own tears and let his exhausted body pull him under.
The sun had reached the peak of the sky when the sound of hooves roused Shoyo from his sleep. He shot upright, and his heart leapt with hope at the sight of dark hair and blue eyes…only for him to realize that they belonged to Tobio’s sister. “Sorry I’m back so soon, I completely forgot— Hinata-kun? Is everything ok?”
Shoyo tried to speak, tried to greet her, but when he opened his mouth to say “Hi, Nee-san,” all that escaped was a hoarse sob.
“Hinata?! What’s wrong?” She quickly dismounted and hurried to kneel next to him on the engawa, taking his face in her hands and gently swiping away his tears with her thumbs. When Shoyo couldn’t get the air to speak, understanding and dread slowly fell over her face. “Hinata…where’s my brother?”
“Nee-san…Nee-san, I messed up. I was so stupid.”
“Shhhh, don’t say that. Tell me what happened.”
So he did. He told her about his visit home, and his mother sniffing out the truth about the wolf. He told her about the candle, and how he’d held strong after coming back, only to give in to the anxious urge to light the candle after a month and look at the impossible man he’d fallen in love with.
“He was upset,” Shoyo murmured. “Of course he was: I’d broken our promise. But he still…he still stayed, and he still tried to explain everything. I broke our promise, and he still stayed with me until the morning. But then the sun started rising, and he said Oikawa would come looking for him, and…and he did, he was right, he came and he took him away. I don’t…I don’t know if he’s ever coming back. What if he gets killed? What if we never see each other—?”
“Oh, Hinata-kun…”
Maybe he should’ve felt foolish, allowing his tears to be wiped away and his face to be pressed into a warm shoulder as if he were a baby. But nothing could ease the guilt and grief rushing through him, leaving him hollow until all he could do was cling to her as she drew soothing paths up and down his back. “I’m sorry,” he wept, words muffled in her warm, finely-embroidered hanten. “I’m so sorry, Nee-san, this was all my fault.”
“No, it’s not.” Her voice was surprisingly firm, as were her hands as she took Shoyo’s face and pulled him away just enough to stare into his eyes. “It’s not solely your fault. Yes, you broke your promise, but it was an unfair promise to ask of you. You came to my brother and stayed with him, accepted his transformations and dodgy explanations, and let him sleep next to you without ever seeing his face, for months. I don’t think I could have lasted that long, and he’s my baby brother.”
Her thumbs brushed gentle curves over his damp cheeks as her dark eyes flickered over his face. Whatever she saw made her sigh, before she murmured, “You did so much, Shoyo, and on top of all that, you loved him. And he loved you, too. He loved you so much that he couldn’t believe you could feel the same for him. He didn’t think he was worth it.”
“But he—”
“I know. I know what he did for you. And I know what you did for him. You’re…you’re the best thing that could have happened to him. I feel awful asking more of you, but—”
“More of me?” Shoyo interrupted, tendrils of hope breaking through his guilt. “Is…is there something I can do?”
She bit her lip, doubt creasing her face as another sigh heaved out of her. “Did he tell you not to follow them?”
“Yes.”
“And you still want to find him?”
“Of course!”
“He was right to try and stop you. No one knows where the sorcerer’s palace is. Even if they did, it doesn’t mean they’d actually be able to reach it. The journey there could be long and dangerous, and it could all lead to nothing. Do you still want to go?”
Shoyo’s jaw clenched as he nodded resolutely. Guilt-ridden relief spilled across her face, and she pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Then go,” she whispered in a harsh plea. “Find my brother. Bring him back home.”
“Okay…I will, Nee-san. I promise. But I have to go home first.” Dread and anticipation clashed in his chest at the thought of returning home and telling his mother everything that had happened.
“Oh, of course! Go pack. I’ll take you.”
“Really?!”
“Yes.” A kind, sad smile pulled at her lips. “With the terms of the curse being broken…we don't know how long the magic in the stones will last, if at all. If we hurry on horseback, we might be able to get you back before it’s too late.”
Adrenaline flooded Shoyo’s veins, and he jerked his head in a nod before running inside. He’d never before changed so quickly, shoving off his scant nightclothes in favor of warmer robes and haori, before stuffing his few belongings into his pack. Only two things gave him pause: the candle and Tobio’s bow and arrows.
Take them, some part of his subconscious whispered, you don’t know what they could mean to Mom and Tobio.
And so, with his stomach tightening into a knot, he wrapped the half-melted candle and tucked it into his pack, and slung Tobio’s bow and arrows next to his own. When he stepped back outside, bearing two bows, his katana and dagger, and his pack, Tobio’s sister raised her brows. “I figured you’d packed light,” she remarked as Shoyo swung himself behind her on the horse, “but I didn’t think you mostly had weapons.”
“One of the bows is Tobio’s,” Shoyo murmured.
“…Ah. Then…thank you. For keeping it safe.”
“Of course.”
With that, she nudged her horse into motion. Shoyo turned back to gaze at the house for as long as possible, but once they crossed into the forest, it didn’t take long to vanish from sight.
Gone was the house that had become a home for him and Tobio. Gone was the place where they had fallen in impossible love. He didn’t think about when he would see it next, or if he would ever see it again. He didn’t think about it at all.
If he rested his head on Tobio’s sister’s shoulder, and if her hanten slowly grew damp from his tears, well…neither of them said a word about it.