#iwaizumi chaperones hormonal teens : the saga

[findingschmomo]

[IwaOi] And All the Prince’s Men Part IV - Missing

Title:  And All the Prince’s Men Pairings: IwaOi, side KageHina, side KyouHaba Rating: T Genre: Royal AU, Implied references to suicide, Angst, Friendship There is something in Ushijima’s superior attitude, in the way his eyes bore down into Iwaizumi that makes him feel inferior. That in the grand scheme of things, it is Ushijima who will be remembered, and Iwaizumi who will be forgotten. That there is no question who wins this battle. That Iwaizumi had lost the moment he was born, two months before Ushijima, but leagues beneath him. Links: AO3

Prince Tooru is dead.

When the news first hits Iwaizumi he does not react. He is stock still in disbelief at the weeping maid in front of him, a woman who had searched him out immediately to relay the devastation. He stares at her, mind broken for a moment.

And then the world speeds up as he returns to reality and he is shaking his head. Because it’s not true. It can’t be true. She takes his hands in her own, comforting and sorry, tears pouring from her eyes. But his hands are numb in her grip and he can’t stop shaking his head.

Because she’s wrong.

Because it isn’t true.

Because Iwaizumi would know. He would know if Oikawa was dead. Would feel it in his bones, would feel it in the corners of his heart and the depths of his soul. It would be an all encompassing anguish that he would feel in his very core.

But he feels none of this.

He feels nothing at all.

So it can not be true. It is a lie. A terrible, terrible lie. And Iwaizumi isn’t sure who created it, if it be Shiratorizawa, the King or Oikawa himself. But he knows it is a lie, and he finds comfort in that.

“Who told you?” he hisses, voice gravelly as he leans closer to the woman.

She takes in a few shuddering breaths, “The King,” she murmurs, “He called us into the hall and he read aloud the message the chariot brought back.”

Iwaizumi’s fingers tense up in her hands and she lets out another sob. She pulls her hands back from him, using them to shield her face as she falls to her knees in absolute sorrow, “Oh Iwaizumi, please, please tell me it isn’t true.”

Iwaizumi crouches down, hands on her shoulders, “It’s not true.”

She shakes her own head then, sobs muffled by her hands but still loud enough to tear at Iwaizumi, “His voice did not even waver when he read it,” she hitches, voice low so that no one else can hear her but Iwaizumi’s straining ear, “His voice felt so cold, Iwaizumi. In the light, God, in the light it looked like he was smiling.”

The maid looks up at him, eyes red and puffy, but brow pulled into an expression of such utter disgust in the wake of devastation, “How can anyone smile at the death of their son?”

Iwaizumi squeezes her shoulders.

Nothing stops Iwaizumi from bursting into the Great Hall after he helps the maid up onto her feet. He leaves the barrack’s sparring grounds, rushing into the castle, pushing through grieving servants crumpling to the floor around him. No one stops him. If anything they turn away in their grief at the sight of him, unable to look at a reminder of what they all once had.

He finds the King in the Great Hall, ordering morose guards to get back to work. Prince Tobio sits on the steps beside his father, face in his hands, inconsolable. He’s not crying, but his eyes are vacant as they stare at the ground. As if there is nothing left for him to give.  There are sobs echoing throughout the hall from maids weeping on the ground, butlers crouched in grief, servants shaking their heads in utter disbelief, all of them sent into another spiral of grief much too soon.

It is chaos.

And in this chaos, Iwaizumi stomps his way right up to the royal family unimpeded. There are no tears in his eyes, there is no falter in his step, there is only fury, painting his eyes red.

“Where is he?” he seethes, staring straight into the King’s eyes, hands balled into fists at his sides. He stands up straight, hands trembling only with anger, and the desire to harm.

The King does not seem surprised by his words nor his presence. He keeps his gaze even, barking in turn, “He’s dead, Iwaizumi. Taken by bandits coordinated by a traitor. Shiratorizawa will pay dearly for this oversight, do not worry.” And the King smiles.

Iwaizumi shakes his head, mouth parted in disbelief at the absurdity of the King, “You’re lying!” he shouts, fingers desperate to wrap around the King’s neck, “Where is he! What have you done with him?”

“Iwaizumi,” Prince Tobio croaks, and Iwaizumi can’t bear to look at him in this moment. Prince Tobio has never been one to wear grief well, even in the light of all his recent practice. But Iwaizumi is in no mood to comfort. He only wishes to destroy. He turns away, rage coursing through his veins and he needs to leave. Needs to leave before he does something he can not take back.

Kyoutani bursts into the room, providing him the perfect distraction. “Where the fuck is he?” the angry knight screams.

His presence is not met as benignly as Iwaizumi’s intrusion. Kyoutani has never been a familiar sight within the castle walls, has never built any kind of rapport with any of the servants. All he is known for is the destruction that tends to follow in his wake. It is no surprise that the guards immediately swarm him to keep him at bay.

Iwaizumi grits his teeth, stepping into the fray and grabbing the young knight. He turns to the guards, “I will deal with him. Let him go.” There is hesitance painted on their faces, but it blends with the sorrow etched across their features. Iwaizumi softens his voice as best he can, “We’re all going through a lot right now.”

The guards pull back, eyes somber and tear stained, leaving Kyoutani for Iwaizumi to take care of. Iwaizumi hauls the screaming teen out, back into the courtyard, shoving him up against the wall, “Look, I’m just as upset as you are about Prince Too--“

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about that shithead!” Kyoutani snaps, pulling free of Iwaizumi’s hold.

Iwaizumi punches him. It is an immediate response. A rage filled response. Uncalled for, honestly, and something Iwaizumi should apologize for when his gaze is not so clouded by red. But it does shut the teen up, leaving him winded and clutching at his cheek, eyes wide. Iwaizumi’s voice drips venom when he speaks, no remorse present in his tone, “Don’t you ever, ever, say that about our Prince again, do you hear me Kyoutani?”

Kyoutani growls under his breath, turning his face away. “Whatever,” he manages to say. He wipes some blood away from his nose with the back of his hand, smearing it up his arm.

“Kyoutani,” Iwaizumi warns, fingers clenching into fists once more at his sides.

“There’s more important shit to worry about!” Kyoutani insists, eyes desperate once they return to searching Iwaizumi’s face, “They’ve locked him up somewhere! They’re saying he did it, Iwaizumi. That he killed him. Do you know what that means?”

Iwaizumi squints at him, uncomprehendingly, “What? Who? What are you talking about?”

Kyoutani lets out an annoyed huff, “Get your head out of the Prince’s ass. They’ve locked up Yahaba! They’re saying he did it, because he was with the Prince when it happened.”

“What?”

“Yeah, and that’s bullshit and we both know it. Yahaba’s an infuriating asshat, but he’s not a murderer. And he loved the Prince more than anyone,” Kyoutani pauses, giving Iwaizumi a sneer, “Well, almost more than anyone.”

Iwaizumi looks away, kicking at the castle wall to expend his pent up adrenaline, “He’s not dead,” he mutters, placing a fist on the wall and restraining himself from punching, “I would know if he was dead. He’s not. He’s out there. Somewhere. Probably being an idiot.”

Kyoutani glares at him, “Well if that’s true than the idiot’s just signed Yahaba off to his own death so fuck him.”

Iwaizumi sighs, running his fingers anxiously through his hair, “I’ll find him. I have to find him. And then, then it will all get sorted out.”

“Are you not fucking listening to me?” Kyoutani shouts, “Yahaba’s been charged with the murder of the first Prince! He’s going to be executed!” He grabs Iwaizumi’s shoulders roughly, forcing him to look at him, “We have to do something!”

Iwaizumi is the one to growl this time, pulling free to look away again, “I don’t know what to do! Alright? What do you want me to say? You think I’ve got all the answers? I have nothing, Kyoutani! I have never had anything my entire life!”

Kyoutani is unconvinced, eyes narrow in disgust, “You know this castle inside and out. You have to know where they’re keeping him,” he insists, “I’m getting him out, Iwaizumi. I dont give a shit if you help me. But I’m getting him out and you’re not stopping me.”

Iwaizumi leans against the wall, head looking up at the sky, taking in the sight of birds flying in the air. Circling around him. Predatory. Observant. He groans again, hands pushing at his eyes. This has all been too much in so little time. His mind is a mess of emotion and racing thoughts. He doesn’t know what to do.

He doesn’t know what to do.

A bird’s cry pierces through the air, swooping low above them.

A falcon.

An idea suddenly lights up within his mind and he turns to Kyoutani, “We need, we need to stay calm. I think know who can help us. Help us come up with some sort of plan.”

-----

“And you’re positive? You’re sure?” Lord Takahiro insists, eyes still red from the the news.

Iwaizumi nods. He had grown surer with each passing day after hearing the first news. It was fact in his head, “He’s not dead.”

“But they said there was blood all over wagon,” Matsukawa comments, fingers tugging at his hair, “They even found a dagger soaked in it!”

“Yeah, and Yahaba slept right through that amount of bloodshed?” Kyoutani huffs, fingers digging into his crossed arms, “Calling bullshit.”

“Kyoutani,” Iwaizumi hisses, a warning to be more polite. They were still dealing with nobility, no matter how familiar he had become with them.

“I heard...Yahaba was the one...who,” Lord Takahiro starts.

“Yahaba didn’t do it!” Kyoutani growls, “In fact, he probably knows what happened and that’s why the King locked him up! Why are we just sitting around doing nothing? They’re going to kill him!”

“Kyoutani, we need to stay calm.”

“Get the fuck off your high horse, Iwaizumi,” Kyoutani snaps, “You’ve shattered three vases today. Don’t tell me to be calm when you can’t even get your legs to stop shaking.”

“Are all knights so foul mouthed?” Lord Takahiro comments.

Kyoutani whirls to face him, “Don’t even get me started on your bullshit, Fancypants.”

“Kyoutani!” Iwaizumi shouts, slapping him hard on the shoulder, “Sit down and be quiet!”

“You want me to put a blanket over him? That’s what works with my birds,” Matsukawa offers, trying to inject some semblance of humor into this terrible conversation. Kyoutani does not appreciate it, but he sits down all the same, scowling at the three but keeping his mouth shut.

Iwaizumi relaxes his shoulders for a moment, turning back to the noble, “He’s not dead. He’s probably run off somewhere. I don’t think he’s really thought this through enough. I need to go find him.”

“If that’s true, he could be anywhere! It’s been days,” Hanamaki says, frown tugging at his lips.

“I know. But I can’t just sit here,” Iwaizumi replies.

“What’s your plan?” Matsukawa asks.

“Scour every corner of the continent until I can find that idiot and give him some choice words about making us so worried,” Iwaizumi huffs, and then he reddens, adding, “Sorry, I shouldn’t call the Prince an idiot in front of you.”

“You’re allowed to call him whatever you want, Iwaizumi.” Matsukawa replies, “Nice bandage on your neck by the way. Real subtle.”

Iwaizumi flames up, hand coming up to cover the sore spot on his neck. He’d covered it up immediately with some gauze, making up some excuse about a spar gone wrong. Was it really that obvious?

“Anyway,” he coughs, returning to the subject at hand, “Kyoutani is right. Yahaba probably knows more than any of us about what happened. We need to get him out of here. He’s a good kid.”

Matsukawa licks his lips nervously, “He’s been charged with the murder of a royal. That’s high treason. You don’t just walk away from that.”

Iwaizumi’s face is stern, “I’ll break him out and take him with me when I go. The King’s already probably searching for an excuse to lock me up to.”

“He’s been acting so strange since the Queen passed,” Lord Takahiro agrees, “Won’t talk to anyone. Doesn’t trust anyone anymore. Everyone was shocked when he didn’t postpone the wedding at all. I heard Prince Wakatoshi was offering to wait a whole ‘nother year.”

“Not to mention this morning. He’s off his rocker.” Matsukawa agrees.

“What happened this morning?” Iwaizumi asks. He’d been steering clear of the castle the past few days, trying to lie low as he prepared for his journey, borrowing supplies from sympathetic servants, taking food here and there.

“He sent Prince Tobio off, right on schedule.” Lord Takahiro explains, “Kid looked miserable. More so than usual.”

“He’s not even fourteen yet?” Iwaizumi murmurs, furrowing his brow.

“Not to mention he just lost his mom and his brother weeks apart from each other. Sure the Prince can be a brat, but this is just cruel beyond words.”

“It makes no sense,” Lord Takahiro continues, “He’s putting so much pressure on Prince Tobio to ascend, it’s absolutely ruining him. And all this when he’s one of the few Kings blessed with two sons. Why was he always so quick to throw Prince Tooru away?”

Iwaizumi swallows.

“Have you guys not figure it out yet?” Kyoutani huffs, unable to keep to himself quiet for long, “Isn’t it obvious?”

Iwaizumi flashes him a surprised look, fear seizing him suddenly. Does Kyoutani know? How could he know? Had Oikawa slipped up at some point? Had he seen?

“Prince Tooru’s clearly not his kid. They look nothing alike.” Kyoutani continues, “He’s just a copy of his mom. Of course the King would hate him and want him out. No one likes a bastard.”

“Huh,” Matuskawa mulls the idea over, “I never really thought of it that way. But it makes sense.”

“Did you know Iwaizumi?” Lord Takahiro asks.

“This is nonsense,” Iwaizumi replies, trying to calm down his racing heartbeat with the knowledge Oikawa’s secret is still safe, “I’m not here to gossip. I’m here to make a plan. I need your help.”

Lord Takahiro nods, “What do you need us to do?”

--------

Iwaizumi had only visited the castle dungeons once before. Deep within the palace undergrounds, it seemed like the perfect place to find a hiding Oikawa during an intense game of hide and go seek. He had thought himself brilliant for coming to the conclusion, racing down the steps and diving past the guard with a joyful grin.

Only to be scooped up and scolded furiously, barred entry and given some lashings for the disrespect.

He never even entertained the thought of sneaking in again.

(Oikawa had been hiding in a cabinet in the pantry room.)

But he does remember where the dungeons are, and he knows approximately where the cells would be found. And years of helping Oikawa study every inch of the castle allows him to know one more important thing: all cells have a grated opening to the surface, to allow a sliver a light and some rainwater to slip through.

Iwaizumi is certain these grates are found by the north east side of the castle, the side normally ignored when guiding visiting nobles through the grounds. The grass there is attended to once a week rather than every other day. There are few flowers grown, and just as Iwaizumi suspected, there are slits in the ground right by the castle walls.

The slits are about an inch wide and five inches long, with small metal rods spaced an inch apart within them. The slightly unkept grass shields them well from obvious sight but they spot them easily when they try.  

“He’s down there?” Kyoutani asks, beside Iwaizumi, crouching low to the ground to eye one of the grates.

“He’s in one of them, at least.”

“Yahaba!” Kyoutani hisses, crawling to each grate. There are groans from a few, curses from more and the occasional grubby fingers clawing out into the fresh air. Iwaizumi feels his stomach churn, tries to remind himself most of these people are actual criminals to assuage his growing guilt. Stay focused on the task at hand.

Finally, at the end of the row, they see a pale shaky finger poke through the grate. This grate is noticeable smaller than the others, barely leaving enough room to fit two lean fingers through.

“Yahaba?” Kyoutani repeats, leaning close to the grate in question.

“Kyouken?” A hoarse voice responds, finger twitching at the air.

Kyoutani drops down to his knees, digging at the dirt around the grate with his hands. Iwaizumi grits his teeth, putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him, “There’s no point, see. It’s all stone under here.”

“Iwaizumi?” Yahaba’s voice is scratched at the edges, as if his throat is so dry the words tear his skin up as he speaks them.

“Are you alright?” Iwaizumi asks, slipping down onto his knees to hear the quiet responses.

“Could be better,” Yahaba whispers back, attempting at a laugh that only ends with him coughing. He pulls his hand back, most likely to cover his mouth.

“This is stupid,” Kyoutani growls, pulling at the grate, “How are we getting him out?”

“We just needed to see which cell he was in. Remember the plan.”

“You’re getting me out?” Yahaba murmurs, fingers slipping back into the fresh air, back into sight.

“We’re going to try,” Iwaizumi promises.

“You shouldn’t,” Yahaba insists, voice raising slightly, despite how pained it sounds, “You’ll be charged with treason too. And, and, oh God, Iwaizumi it was awful. I think, I think--please don’t call me silly, just please believe me, I think I’ve been cursed.”

“Are they giving you water?” Kyoutani asks.

“I’m not crazy,” Yahaba snaps, “You weren’t there. You didn’t see.”

Iwaizumi feels his heart accelerating, feels the hickey at his neck burn under its bandage. Because he knows what Yahaba probably saw, probably felt. He has a good guess, at least.

“We’re getting you out.” Kyoutani retorts instead, “We can talk later.”

“How?” Yahaba wonders, “They’ve got me in my own section, in the deepest part of the dungeon.”

“Trust us,” Iwaizumi replies instead, “We have a plan. Just stay alert and keep quiet, and do as we say when the time comes. Got that?”

Yahaba doesn’t reply. Kyoutani pokes at one of his fingers, and Yahaba’s darts out, wrapping his index around the other’s fingers in a desperate need to touch another person. Iwaizumi pulls at the grass around him.

“Kyoutani let’s go, we need to prepare for tonight.”

Yahaba lets go with hesitation, fingers disappearing back within the cell and out of sight. Kyoutani stands up, taking a moment to kick at the castle wall until his toes are sore within his boots. Iwaizumi lets him have this, and once Kyoutani places both feet back on the ground, they head back into the castle.

Kyoutani works quietly, for once, following Iwaizumi’s careful instructions: pick up the last bit of of rations Akane left out, pack up the spare travel bags Lord Takahiro lent them, make sure to fill the canteens with water and hide everything in Pumpkin’s stall at the stables.

Iwaizumi sharpens his knife and the dagger Matsukawa gave him from the Hanamaki family collection. He sheathes both and pockets them. He spends his day in the basement, helping servants sort the grains and keeping an eye on the guard by the dungeon entrance. Unfortunately, it’s one of the few people in the castle he isn’t friends with. He supposes the man must not leave this area much.

As the afternoon fades into evening, servants start to disappear from the space for the comfort of their beds. Iwaizumi offers to finish up, receiving gracious thank you’s from his fellow workers. He smiles and nods at them. It’s around this point that Kyoutani joins him in his task, discreetly sorting grains into their own ration pouches.

The guard pays them no mind, Iwaizumi long becoming a fixture of the area since beginning his work near the start of the day. The pair keep their work slow paced, dragging on, waiting and waiting and waiting.

Until, finally, a voice from above interrupts them, “Is there a guard down there!?”

Iwaizumi, Kyoutani and the guard look at each other with surprise at the call, gazes meeting before flying to look towards the stairs. Lord Takahiro rushes down, looking about the room, “I need a guard!”

“What’s the matter, sir?” The guard steps forward nervously, bowing graciously at the sight of the visiting Lord. Iwaizumi and Kyoutani quickly do the same.

“I need help outside, one of our falcons has gotten loose and my attendant needs assistance out there.”

“I can not leave my post, sir.” The guard responds awkwardly.

Lord Takahiro bristles, “I didn’t realize guarding grains was more important than my prize winning falcons, who’s shows, might I remind you, are the royal family’s favorite past times.”

“Sir, I--“

“You’re wasting my time and the King’s money! I can’t believe this!” Lord Takahiro snaps as he raises his voice, stomping his foot for good measure. The guard swallows, glancing at Iwaizumi for aid. Iwaizumi wonders if the guard maybe knows him better than he thought. Iwaizumi gives him a slow nod, and the guard looks a bit more relaxed.

“Okay, sir, please lead the way,” the guard mutters, and Lord Takahiro rushes up the steps with the man at his heels.

Iwaizumi and Kyoutani pad to the dungeon door quickly once the pair are out of sight. The door is locked, as expected, but Kyoutani is quick to kick the door knob clean off. Iwaizumi catches it before it can clang to the floor, setting it aside. They open the door.

It’s pitch black inside the hallway, a few torches illuminating the forms of sleeping prisoners huddled in small cells. Iwaizumi isn’t sure if there’s another guard inside here but he wouldn’t be surprised. He slips his dagger out, holding it ready.

Kyoutani picks up one of the torches from their stands, carrying it with him. Iwaizumi starts counting cells, stepping careful down the damp hall. Each cell is mostly uniform, thick metal bars caging whatever prisoner inside. Once they reach the end of the hallway they find a thick steel door with a small little slit.

Kyoutani crouches down, bringing the fire with him as he tries to peer into the slit. Eyes meet his in the dark, almost making him jump, “Yahaba?”

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Yahaba whispers in turn, fingers darting out of the opening.

“We need to hurry,” Iwaizumi reminds, pushing Kyoutani out of the way to look at the locking mechanism on the door. He frowns, biting his lip as he tries to slip his knife into it, twisting and turning, trying to listen to the tumbles within for some sort of tell tale click.

“There’s a key,” Yahaba murmurs, interrupting his work, “I’ve seen it, they like to hold it out to me when they slip me my rations,” he explains, “Check the walls, I think their might be a loose stone or something? I don’t know, sometimes I hear stone scraping against stone.”

“What’s going on?” Another prisoner shouts from nearby, “Is someone down there?”

Yahaba pulls his fingers back into his cell. Iwaizumi motions for Kyoutani to search the area while he keeps fiddling with the lock.

“Who’s over there? You got any food on ya?” Comes the prisoner’s voice again, growing louder and more persistent. Iwaizumi keeps his head down, working with very little light. Kyoutani has placed the torch in one of the empty stands above, feeling around the walls, clawing at any piece of loose stone, pushing away any bits of straw. He drops to his knees, crawling around the floor, keeping his face close to the ground.

And then he feels it, a stone piece shifts underneath the weight of his hand. He reels back, taking both hands to pry the stone free of the ground. It’s hollow, and inside he sees a thick metal key. He almost barks out a triumphant sound, but shushes himself, handing it over to Iwaizumi quickly.

Iwaizumi slips the key into the lock with ease, opening it up and watching the door creak open noisily. He opens it further, enough for Yahaba to slip in and out. Kyoutani takes back the torch. Yahaba scrambles forward, squinting in the light, holding out his trembling hands to shield himself.

The light isn’t enough to see well, but Iwaizumi can infer that the cell itself is tiny compared to the barred ones that line the hall. Its ceiling too low to stand in, and if you kneeled in the center and spread your arms out, your finger tips would graze the walls. He looks away.

Kyoutani grabs Yahaba, “Can you walk?”

Yahaba leans against him, “I don’t know.”

“Fuck,” Kyoutani hisses, pulling him closer.

“Here, give him to me, I can carry him if we have to,” Iwaizumi whispers, manhandling Yahaba onto his back. Yahaba wraps his thin arms around Iwaizumi’s neck, fingers clutching at him weakly. Iwaizumi hoists him up effortlessly, his gut sinking at how light the taller man was.

How long had Yahaba been here?

This isn’t the time to think about it. Kyoutani takes the lead, scrambling back up the hallway and up the stairs to the basement. There’s no time to close the door behind them. They rush up the steps and into the servant’s hallway, dark now that they’ve all mostly turned in for the night.

They turn the corner, and a maid freezes in front of them, mid yawn, in just her night slip. The trio hold their breath, staring at the frightened woman. She stares right back at them, scream catching in her throat. Her eyes fall on Iwaizumi, gaze flicking up to Yahaba’s before climbing back down to Iwaizumi. She blinks.

“Please, Koto,” Iwaizumi whispers.

Koto’s hands clench into fists up at her chest but she looks down, shuffling away silently back into her room. The trio let out a breath and keep racing down the hall until they reach the servant’s exit and carefully slip outside.

“Get rid of the torch,” Iwaizumi orders, now that they’re bathed by comforting moonlight.

Kyoutani nods, “Meet at the stables.”

Iwaizumi pads through the castle grounds, mindful of the guard’s schedule. He sees a falcon circling the air on the other side of the castle, calming himself a little. The distraction was still on. Hopefully more guards were over there, swept up in whatever farce Lord Takahiro and Matsukawa were fabricating.

He makes it to the stable, depositing Yahaba onto the ground. In the light of the moon the attendant looks worse than he imagined. Ugly purple and yellow bruises color his wrists and ankles. One foot looks twisted in a way Iwaizum is unable to look at for long. His clothes are tattered and caked with god knows what. He smells horrendous, now that Iwaizumi can pay attention to more than just his racing nerves.

Iwaizumi tries to think, fast. Needs a change of plans, “Yahaba, can you stand?”

Yahaba rocks forward onto his knees, using shaky hands to lift himself up from the ground. He favors his good foot as he goes. He grapples at the stall post, using it to straighten himself. Iwaizumi bites his lip. At least Kyoutani had dressed Pumpkin already, loaded and read to go.

“I’m going to lift you up. Swing your legs,” Iwaizumi warns, grabbing Yahaba’s waist and bringing him up into the air. Yahaba grits his teeth as he manages to get onto the horse, gripping her reigns tightly and doing his best to stay up right.

Iwaizumi starts unloading Pumpkin, removing the bags from her saddle. Yahaba stares at him, “What are you doing?”

“Pumpkin’s not gonna ride for long with you, Kyoutani and all of our things on her. I’m moving this stuff onto Lady.”

“Lady? Why Lady?” Yahaba hisses, blinking.

“Good luck charm,” Iwaizumi mutters slipping away to the neighboring stall to dress up the beautiful white mare.

“She’s the most finicky horse we have!” Yahaba snaps in a hushed tone, “This is insane.”

“This whole night is insane,” Iwaizumi counters, grabbing the saddle and reigns.

“There’s still time,” Yahaba murmurs, “You can go back. I can just leave, with Pumpkin, and I won’t say anything about you helping if I get caught. You’ve done more than enough already.”

“You’re greatly misunderstanding our mission, Yahaba,” Iwaizumi mutters, climbing onto Lady and shushing her with a few calming pets, “We’re not just running away. We’re coming back with Prince Tooru in hand.”

Yahaba blinks at him, eyes wide, the whites of them catching in the moonlight, “You don’t understand,” he shudders, “Prince Tooru is gone. It took him, Iwaizumi, no one believes me but it took him.”

“A demon?” Iwaizumi huffs, tone unimpressed.

Yahaba looks like he’s seen a ghost, all color draining from his face as he stares at the man in utter disbelief, “H-how? How did you know?”

Iwaizumi shrugs, “A hunch.”

They’re interrupted by a loud piercing scream from the other side of the castle, as light pours from the corner of the grounds. Thick black plumes of smoke billow out into the air as flames grow taller and taller.

“That idiot,” Iwaizumi spits under his breath, straining to look in the dark. He spots Kyoutani, rushing toward them, stopping only a moment to swing onto the horse, right behind Yahaba. Iwaizumi pulls Lady to attention, “What did you just do?”

“Thought the orchards needed some more light,” Kyoutani’s grin is manic, “And I got all the guards to run over there instead of the gate, so save your scolding until later, ok?”

Iwaizumi lets out a huff, but kicks his horse into a gallop. Kyoutani mirrors him on Pumpkin, arms caging Yahaba to take hold of the reigns. The fire blazes behind them, and with the growing chaos Kyoutani loses all desire for secrecy. He turns his head back, letting out a celebratory whoop and shriek, “Kiss my ass you privileged fucks!”

Yahaba manages to elbow him into submission before he can start chanting, “Anarchy! Anarchy!”

Iwaizumi feels a headache brewing at his temple, but he ignores it. He keeps his head forward, his grip on the reigns tight, and weaves down the path. Leaving the Aoba Johsai castle grounds. Leaving the place he’d called home for so many years of his life. Setting his sights for the nearby border.

Never does he feel any sort of need to look back.

---------------------

Iwaizumi kneels by the river bank, leaning forward to refill their canteens. The morning light filters through the trees, dappling his skin with a myriad of dark spots. Once they’re full, he cups some water in his hands, splashing it onto his face and rubbing the clear liquid into his tired eyes.

They had spent the past few days riding, keeping to the dense forests and out of sight. But travel was slow when there were no paths for the horses to follow. That, and Yahaba had to regain his strength. He was exhausted, limbs jittery and still weak.

Iwaizumi glances over to his companions, a few paces away from the river bank, by the tree where they had tied their horses nearby to graze. Yahaba sits, back leaning against a solid trunk, eyes squeezed shut in pain. Kyoutani kneels by him, wrapping clean cloth tightly around the splint on Yahaba’s left ankle, securing it with a rough knot. Yahaba lets out a hiss.

Iwaizumi wanders back over to them, offering Yahaba a canteen he greedily takes.

“What the hell did they do to you in that cell?” Kyoutani growls, chewing at his lip once he finishes looking over Yahaba’s multitude of wounds.

“Nothing,” Yahaba murmurs, swallowing down another gulp of water, “Most of this is from before.”

“Before?” Iwaizumi asks, sitting down beside him.

Yahaba nods, sitting up with a new surge of energy, having slept for most of the journey until this much needed break, “After, it all happened. They arrested me immediately, and we still had, you know, three days journey to get back to the castle. And, well, they kept questioning me and I, I had nothing to give them. Well, nothing they would accept.”

Iwaizumi grimaces, “Can you, can you tell me again what happened?”

Yahaba sighs, running fingers through his light colored hair, “It’s, it’s a blur. It was awful. I remember everything was normal, the Prince said goodnight. We were in one of the nicer roomier wagons, and the prince was curling himself up in his bed cot. And then, I think, I went to bed too, on the floor nearby like usual. And then there was like, a scream. I can’t describe it. It was just, a terrible noise that cuts right through you. It woke me up and there was blood everywhere and the Prince was gone, Iwaizumi. Just, gone. And instead there was, there was a monster, and we looked at each other and, I felt this, this pressure. It pushed me back I couldn’t move! And it, it just, it disappeared into the night,” Yahaba takes in a shaky breath, “The monster, it left, it left this dagger in the room. It must have been what it used on the Prince and,” he chokes a little, on his words, “I don’t know if the Prince is alive or just dea-“

“He’s not dead,” Iwaizumi interrupts, turning to face Yahaba completely, “He’s not dead.”

But Yahaba does not look comforted by his words. He looks scared, eyes caught on Iwaizumi’s throat, trembling hand rising, “What, what’s wrong with your neck?”

Iwaizumi covers his hickey self consciously, his fingers touching his bare skin rather than the bandage he’d  wrapped it in. His face flames up. The cloth most have fallen off when he’d washed his face. Shouldn’t the mark have faded away by now? And why would an embarrassing bruise send Yahaba into another fit of panic?

The answer to this becomes clearer when the attendant raises his voice, “Iwaizumi! Why do you have a, a pentagram on your neck?”

“What?” Iwaizumi blinks, lifting his hand away and craning his neck to see. Of course it was physically impossible for him to do so.

Kyoutani pushes his way into the conversation, roughly moving Iwaizumi’s face the other way to get a look for himself. “Holy shit,” he exclaims, “This is what you were hiding? I thought you just didn’t want the world to see your gross hickey.”

Iwaizumi slaps his hand away, standing up to stalk back over to the river, “I don’t know what either of you are talking about,” he snaps. He leans down, peering at the water, but the current keeps his image too distorted to see anything.

Iwaizumi gives up, climbing back up to his companions with a furrowed brow. Yahaba looks at him warily, Kyoutani with confusion.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on either ok. But there’s, there’s just a ton of stuff going on right now. We need to stay focus. What matters now is finding Prince Tooru.”

“Did a demon curse you?” Yahaba asks, “Was a demon following Prince Tooru and that’s why, why it took him? Kyouken stop looking at me like I’m insane! I’m not!”

Lady rears back suddenly, from her spot nearby, letting out a shrill neigh in surprise. The trio whirl around, eyes wide. Kyoutani grabs for the dagger, Iwaizumi covers his neck with his hand and Yahaba tries to hide his splinted leg from view. They’re tense as the horse rears up and down, shaking out it’s neck and neighing.

But she does not seem alarmed. She seems...excited?

“Lady, Lady is that you?”

Iwaizumi stands up like a bolt because he knows that voice. Yahaba stares at him fearfully, back pressing tighter against the tree as if it could help.

“Search the area,” the man orders, petting the horse to calmness once more.

“Shit,” Iwaizumi curses, dropping back down to rip off a strip of cloth to tie aroumd his neck.

‘We have to run for it!” Kyoutani growls.

“It’s too late,” Iwaizumi snaps back, knowing running away at this point would only cause an armed chase, “Just, just follow my lead.” He takes a calming breath before stepping out of his cover, into the man’s direct eye sight “Prince Wakatoshi, it is good to see you.”

Prince Wakatoshi stares at him in surprise, “Iwaizumi?”

“I apologize, I did not realize we had crossed the border alre-“

“We?” Ushijima questions, walking briskly over to him, “Is he with you? Do you know where he is? You must tell me everything.”

Iwaizumi feels his heartbeat calm upon the realization that word of his crime and treason had not spread to the neighboring kingdom. For once he thanks the King’s penchant for paranoia for saving his skin, “He’s not with me,” he murmurs back, “But I assume you had the same idea as me?”

Ushijima’s eyes look disappointed at the news, but his expression remains as blank as ever. Still, his hands are heavy on Iwaizumi’s shoulders, tense.

“We found more intruders, sire!” a knight calls.

“My companions,” Iwaizumi corrects, quickly.

Ushijima nods, eyes darting over to the two teens beeing shoved closer, “Is that, is that Yahaba?” Iwaizumi nods in turn. Ushijima releases him, finally, “I think it best we all talk. Gather your things, we’ll escort you back to the castle.”

“Did we venture that far from the border? My mistake, sire. I am very sorry for the intrusion.”

Ushijima narrows his eyes at him, “Do you think me a fool, Iwaizumi?”

Iwaizumi feels a cold sweat begin to bead at the back of his neck, but he keeps his eyes level with the Prince’s.

Ushijima looks away to bark out more commands at his knights, and before Iwaizumi has time to check in with either of his friends, the three of them are being flanked by the impressive Shiratorizawa guard. Their lances glint in the sunlight, and for once Kyoutani keeps his mouth shut and head down.

It is evening by the time they are ushered into the castle. Ushijima has the foresight to bring them in unannounced, through a side hallway directly up to the empty guest quarters. They are shoved into a room that Iwaizumi quickly recognizes as Oikawa’s private quarters.

Ushijima stays with them, taking a seat on one of the armchairs. Kyoutani helps Yahaba into the bed to get off his sore ankle. Iwaizumi turns to Ushijima deciding to remain standing. He holds his hands behind his back to hide his nervous fiddling.

He can never quite tell where he stands with Prince Wakatoshi Ushijima. Best to play it as safe as possible. He waits for the Prince to address him, to lead the conversation. He can stand the awkward silence until then, interrupted only by Kyoutani and Yahaba’s quiet murmuring to one another.

After a moment, the Prince begins, “I assume you believe he is alive as well?”

“I know he’s alive,” Iwaizumi replies.

“Because the body was never found?”

“Because I would know if he was dead. I can’t explain it better than that,”

Ushijima frowns, leaning back in his chair, “If he’s out there, he’s no longer in Shiratorizawa. I have scoured every inch of this kingdom, twice, and nothing.” He pauses a moment, taking his time to take in Iwaizumi carefully, “If you know anything, anything at all about Tooru’s whereabouts, you must tell me.”

“He was taken,” Yahaba mutters, from his place in bed. He looks exhausted, face tinged red with fever from the whole ordeal he’s suffered, “Demon, took him. I saw it, Prince Wakatoshi, you must believe me.”

Iwaizumi curses inwardly, but tries not to react to the outburst. Ushijima looks incredibly intrigued by Yahaba’s words, “Demons?” he repeats, eyes flicking over to the stacks and stacks of books Oikawa keeps in his room.

“Prince Wakatoshi,” Iwaizumi starts, stepping to block his line of sight, “What do you know?”

Ushijima squints at him, “I know my fiancé has gone missing and is presumed dead, and that I wish to find him and secure his safety as soon as possible.”

Iwaizumi swallows, “Do you have any idea why Prince Tooru would want to run off?”

“He was taken!” Yahaba calls from the bed, insistent.

The Prince ignores him in favor of narrowing his eyes further at Iwaizumi, “I understand what you are implying, and I am offended by your tone. Might I remind you that I found you trespassing in my kingdom, with weapons and what I can only presume to be stolen goods? I do not like dancing around issues. If you have something to say, say it outright.”

There is something in Ushijima’s superior attitude, in the way his eyes bore down in Iwaizumi that makes him feel inferior. That in the grand scheme of things, it is Ushijima who will be remembered, and Iwaizumi who will be forgotten. That there is no question who wins this battle. That Iwaizumi had lost the moment he was born, two months before Ushijima, but leagues beneath him, found amongst dirt and garbage. And this feeling kindles a flame in Iwaizumi’s chest, a need to fire back, to prove himself, to show that he is more than what is expected of him. That he does matter, that he can win. That he has won.

And it’s a feeling that makes his lips loose and his tone righteous and angry, and it makes him spit out, “Prince Tooru does not love you.”

Ushijima is not affected by the words, not in the way Iwaizumi expects, “Love was never a part of this equation. Love is something commoners are privileged to, not something ever even alluded to in my circles,” Ushijima snaps, “I have known Prince Tooru for my entire life, have been engaged to him for eight years, do you think I ever believed he loved me?”

Iwaizumi looks away.

“I have no interest in playing a game of who knows Oikawa best. We both have the same aim, I do not see why we can not work together and share information,” the Prince’s golden eyes flare a moment, as he adds, “And if you believe the idea of being wed to me is what sent him off, you are terribly mistaken.”

Iwaizumi grits his teeth, “How can you be so oblivious? He was miserable! Of course that’s why he’s gone off!”

“You were never privy to our talks. We had the issue settled . We knew where each other stood. Once Prince Tooru’s father finally passed or abdicated we agreed Tooru could just move back home and help advise his brother during his reign. The marriage would stay only for diplomacy’s sake. It was his idea. Our wedding could not be the reason for his disappearance. Something else must have triggered it.”

“The Queen died,” Kyoutani offers from his perch beside Yahaba’s drowsy form.

Ushijima shakes his head, “When I spoke with him at the funeral a few weeks ago he seemed eager to leave the somber castle and wished for a distraction. Something else must have happened too.”

Iwaizumi feels his heart clench, feels the bruise on his neck pulse painfully. Guilt swirls in his stomach at his own realization, rising up in his throat like bile that he he forces himself to swallow down.

“He was taken,” Yahaba insists, fighting to keep his eyes open, “I saw it. A monster, blood everywhere. He didn’t just go. Why won’t you believe me? Why won’t anyone believe me?”

“I believe in what you saw, Yahaba,” Iwaizumi says carefully, eyeing Ushijima.

Prince Wakatoshi nods, getting up and taking one of the books off of Oikawa’s desk, “I do not doubt demons were involved in this if that is what you saw. But I am sure that Tooru left of his own volition and that he therefore must be alive.”

“This conversation makes no fucking sense,” Kyoutani growls, “How do you know he’s alive if you believe a demon attacked him?”

Iwaizumi says nothing.

“The demon was not attacking him,” Prince Wakatoshi explains, closing the book in his hands, “It was making a pact with him.”

Iwaizumi still says nothing.

------------------------

They spend a few days hiding out in the Shiratorizawa castle. Yahaba feels his strength return to him, fed on more than just measly rations, in a warm dry bed. Kyoutani stays on his best behavior, keeping Yahaba company with only a few complaints here and there.

Iwaizumi spends the days with Ushijima, pouring over the books in Oikawa’s collection, mapping out possible areas to investigate. Ushijima lends him a map of Miyagi for these purposes, helping him carve out a route that would keep them unseen.

“Hug the river,” Ushijima advises, following the blue line along the map, “Keep to the forests that border it.  We’re close to the Harvest, so most people will be working their farms and preparing for the festivals. There shouldn’t be many people out hunting at all.”

“This path runs through two cities,” Iwaizumi points out, tapping them on the map with a frown.

“They’re small towns. There is no perfect path to Karasuno, this one has the least obstacles for you. I would advise continuing right through the town, avoiding them would add weeks to your journey.”

Iwaizumi frowns, crossing his arms as he studies the map, “Any advice for not coming off as foreigners?”

“My people are hard workers, loyal and kind. You all should be fine,” Ushijima pauses a moment, then adds with a sterner tone, “Do not dare steal from my people. I will take it as a personal affront.”

Iwaizumi raises his hands up, “I’m not really the stealing type.”

“And your lackey?”

“Kyoutani’s a good kid once you get to know him,” Iwaizumi assures.

Ushijima does not look convinced but decides to drop the issue in favor of opening up a thick book onto of the map. He flips the pages to a rough sketch of a forest. He maneuvers the book further down the map scroll, trying to match it to a location.

“This forest, the one that seems to be a concentration of demon activity, I have a few ideas where it could be,” Ushijima starts, “There are two possibilities,” he points with his finger at the forest bordering Karasuno and Nekoma, “It could be this one, which is also the sight of the never ending territory dispute. There is a lot of dark energy here, a lot of unnecessary death. I would not be surprised if it was teeming with demons because of it.

“However, it could also be here,” Ushijima continues, finger dragging past Nekoma, near the edge of Ushijima’s map into the Fukurodani Kingdom, “There is a lot less sources discussing this area, we unfortunately do not have a partnership with their library, but this forest could also be the one spoken of in the accounts. But, it will be a lot more difficult to get to and will take several more weeks.”

Iwaizumi rubs the bandage on his neck, biting his lip as a name is whispered into his ear. A memory, “He’s there,” he murmurs, pointing at the forest in Fukurodani, “He’s definitely there. Or at least heading there.”

“How are you certain?” Ushijima asks.

“Akaashi Keiji,” Iwaizumi responds.

Ushijima waits for further explanation, but receives none. He sighs, cracking his neck and taking up his pen to mark the spot on the map, “Alright well, I can only offer advice through Karasuno, once you enter Nekoma and beyond, I have no expertise to lend.”

“That’s alright,” Iwaizumi murmurs.

“I still believe you should hit up the border forest, just be careful when you do. I would not be surprised if people there are wary of outsiders and easy to anger. Keep a low profile.”

Iwaizumi nods, “Thanks, this is really helpful.”

Ushijima hums in agreement, “How are you hoping to bring him back if you find him?”

“When I find him,” Iwaizumi corrects, rolling up the map tightly in his hand and slipping it under his shirt safely, “I’m not worried about that part. I’ll knock some sense in to him, don’t worry.”

Ushijima purses his lips in thought, “I am afraid this is the most I can do for you. I regret that I am not able to accompany you. But what with growing tensions from Aoba Johsai, I--“

“It’s alright. You’ve done more than enough. Thank you.”

Ushijima nods, closing the thick book, fingers slightly fiddly as he tries to think of the best words to express the complex emotion wishing to come out of him.

“Iwaizumi,” he starts, carefully, eyes resting on Iwaizumi, “bring him back safely.”

“I will.” Iwaizumi says, and when he says it it feels like a promise. Ushijima straightens up his shoulders in turn giving another silent nod, and letting out the breath he had not realized he was holding.

------------------------

“Don’t grip it so tightly,” Kyoutani snaps, “Just enough so it doesn’t slip out of your hands.”

“You death grip everything you hold,” Yahaba counters, “It’s confusing.”

Kyoutani growls under his breath, lowering Yahaba’s arm slightly to correct his stance, “Ok, now the thing with daggers is you need to use your speed to get the upper hand. Your blade is small, you need to get close before they realize what’s coming.”

“Right,” Yahaba nods, fingers squeezing the daggers grip experimentally. He lunges forward, taking quick steps, bringing the dagger down in an arc. His sudden movement has the blade thrown out of his grip entirely, embedding into the ground near Iwaizumi.

“Suggestion,” Iwaizumi calls out, plucking the knife from the ground, “We practice with sticks.”

Yahaba reddens a little, “He told me not to hold on to it tight!”

“I didn’t tell you to throw it, dumbass!” Kyoutani barks back, red himself.

“If you guys have so much energy to fight, shouldn’t we be moving on?” Iwaizumi wonders aloud.

The two teens grumble something about the horses being tired, and Iwaizumi chuckles to himself. He returns his gaze back to the unfurled map on the ground, marking off where they had stopped for the day. It had been about two week and a half since they left the Shiratorizawa mansion and they had made decent progress.

They had just passed through the second town, where they had spent the night at a local inn. The people were just as Ushijima described, and as long as they mentioned nothing about politics nor demons, everything was fine. The people were all too busy to worry about three poor travelers passing through.

The villagers raced around, collecting supplies and building stalls for the upcoming festival to celebrate the Goddess of Harvest and her bounty. Iwaizumi, himself, had never heard of the deity and simply nodded and smiled whenever she was mentioned.

With those two obstacles traverse, they would soon be leaving Shiratorizawa to cross into the Karasuno border. In other words, they would be leaving Ushijima’s protection. The Prince had given each of them a signed certificate giving them permission to travel within the kingdom, only to be used if they were questioned or barred entry anywhere necessary. Luckily they hadn’t needed to use it.

There were no such safe guards in Karasuno. Furthermore, Iwaizumi knew very little of Nekoma and even less of Fukurodani. Soon, they would be completely on their own.

He tries not to think of it that way. Focuses on the task at hand. Finding Oikawa and bringing him back.

A sharp pain blossoms on his shoulder and he lets out a shout. He turns his head, hand clutching at his bleeding shoulder. Yahaba and Kyoutani are upon him in seconds shouting apologies and curses, respectively.

“What did I say about using the dagger!” Iwaizumi snaps, now that he’s realized what’s happened. He tries to calm himself, because although painful, he can tell it’s a minor cut. It was more the surprise of it than anything.

And then the world goes black.

He blinks his eyes open, finds himself somewhere he’s never been before. It is dark, inhumanely dark, but for some reason he can see. There are figures all around him, looking at him curiously, grins manic and bright and fanged.

Iwaizumi backs away, pressing against a tall tree, it’s bark rough and it’s leaves like needles. He’s not used to trees like this. Just where the hell is he? Where the hell were Yahaba and Kindaichi? He looks around, foreign faces creeping closer, and he feels himself compelling them away, urging them to leave him be, pushing at them without lifting a finger.

And then he’s back, by the river, clutching his bleeding shoulder. Well, actually, he is now knee deep in the river, staring at his disheveled reflection in the rippling water. He blinks, lifting his head up to look back at a wary Yahaba and Kindaichi.

“Did you guys push me into the river?” Iwaizumi asks, perplexed, shoulders slumping.

Yahaba and Kyoutani look at each other in disbelief. “Are you serious?” Kyoutani snaps back.

“What?”

Yahaba creeps closer to him, reaching a hand out to him, “Iwaizumi, are you alright?”

“Of course, well, other than the scratch on my shoulder.”

Yahaba takes his hand, helping back onto dry ground, “You, you freaked out for a moment.”

“I did?”

“Yeah, you, you snarled at us, is the best way I can describe it. Kind of like, KyouKen does but more vicious and less silly.”

“Shut up, Yahaba.” Kyoutani snarls.

“That’s weird. I don’t...For a second there, it felt like, I was somewhere else. But, I...Weird, I can’t remember, exactly why?” Iwaizumi lifts his hand to rub at his temple.

Yahaba helps him sit back down, giving him some water to drink, “I think we’re all just tired. We should turn in early.”

Iwaizumi agrees, mind feeling a bit foggy with confusion. But as they all lay down to sleep his thoughts keep him awake. He searches for the images he had seen, searches for some sort of explanation for the weird episode. His neck burns, his shoulder stings, and the world seems much too loud to find any sort of peace in.

Worst of all he can hear his companions whispering to each other well into the night.

“Shouldn’t we have told him?”

“I didn’t want to upset him any further. He looked so confused.”

“Yeah, well, I’m confused too and would like some damn answers,” Kyoutani hisses, “He looked like he was going to kill us.”

“He was muttering to himself: are you ok? what’s wrong? oh god, you’re fine, you’re fine, don’t worry me like that, you’re fine.” Yahaba shudders.

Iwaizumi furrows his brows in his feigned sleep. He turns over, away from the teens and curling up slightly. His movement makes the other boys quiet down. His fingers come to rest at his neck, massaging at the cloth wrapped around his skin. It’s warm under his touch. He bites his lip.

---------------------

They had been lucky for most of their journey. Incredibly lucky. But days into passing the Karasuno border, their luck seems to end. They’e not equipped for this. They’re tired, hungry, outnumbered. What lies ahead of them could be a squadron of Karasuno’s best knights, or it could be some measly vagrants. Iwaizumi was not in the mood to gamble.

“Stay down!” Iwaizumi orders, voice rough as he ducks to the ground. There are voices in the distance, shouting and laughing, metal clinking against each other.

“Iwaizumi,” Yahaba hisses, “What about the horses?”

“Leave them,” Iwaizumi hisses.

“We can’t leave them,” Kyoutani argues, “They’ll die.”

“Not to mention all of our supplies,” Yahaba agrees.

Iwaizumi stares at them, “Do you value that more than your own lives?” More shouts surround them and Iwaizumi shoves Kyoutani and Yahaba lower to the ground. He stretches his arm, cutting the horses loose with the sword Ushijima had lent him.

The horses rear up in panic, already nervous from the growing tension in the air. They gallop away, despite Kyoutani’s desperate reach for them. Iwaizumi grabs him by the back of his collar, hauling him up and into the river. Kyoutani stumbles into it, slipping in the mud and grasping at the bank to keep from washing away.

“Iwaizumi, what are you doing!” Yahaba cries, as he too is unceremoniously shoved into the water. He falls onto Kyoutani, who looses his grip. Luckily, Yahaba latches onto the bank and Kyoutani is able to grab at his other arm to keep from being pulled by the current.

“Iwaizumi!”

“Let go!” Iwaizumi shouts, but before he can say any further, or jump in himself, he is surrounded by rough bandits. He draws out his sword, holding it out defensively as they circle him. Fear grips his heart and he takes in a breath. He blinks his eyes closed for a calming moment and braces himself.

He is a knight of Aoba Johsai.

He will not be taken lightly.

The bandits surge at him, their movements untrained and clunky. He dodges them, footwork second nature as he moves around the field, swiping and lunging as necessary. He cuts away a few, realizing his advantage in skill quickly. But what the bandits lack in finesse, they win in numbers. Iwaizumi can not protect all sides of himself at once, and soon they wear away at his defenses. A nick at the back of his leg unbalances him, a swipe at his chest rips open his shirt, a pommel slams into his head, dizzying him.

The ground is slick from the recent rain and his foot slips, sending him crashing down. He scrambles, drawing up his sword. A bandit falls on him, impaling himself with a screech. Iwaizumi rolls away quickly with a start, abandoning the weapon like a fool. Another bandit runs toward him, and he braces himself. But the attack never comes. She falls to the ground instead, limp, a dagger embedded deeply in her back.

Iwaizumi sees Yahaba, mud covered and breathing heavy. The teen glares at him, rushing forward to pry the dagger free again, “Don’t you dare throw us away like that again!” he shouts, “We can hold our own too!”

“Shigeru!” Kyoutani shouts, grabbing his arm to pull him away from another bandit, lunging his sword at the attacker in turn. It slices into the stranger’s leg, bringing her down with a pained wail.

Iwaizumi rushes to his feet, blood pumping in his ears now that its not just himself he needs to protect. He grabs for his sword, using his foot as leverage on the impaled body to draw it free. He holds it up, sees his dirty face reflected in its bloody blade, and shakes his head free of any further thoughts.

Yahaba and Kyoutani fight together, with the former surging forward, nimble healed feet working to swipe at the target with quick superficial distractions before Kyoutani can step in and cut away with his sword.

Iwaizumi slices at another bandit, expertly driving his sword into his chest, watching the man slump against him. And by then it seems the rest of the stragglers have gotten the message, retreating away, dragging their wounded with them.

When there is finally peace again, Iwaizumi lets out a sigh of relief. Fingers dig into his black hair as he tries to calm his adrenaline down. His hair, he realizes, has grown longer during his journey. He drags his hand down to wipe the sweat of his brow, taking a deep breath.

He hears words reverberating in his mind, are you ok?

He supposes it’s his mind reminding himself to check for any wounds. Luckily, it seems he came out of the fight mostly unscathed. Perhaps their luck had yet to run out. He turns to his companions to make sure its same for them.

Yahaba is giddy, laughing the adrenaline off as he comes out of his first battle unwounded, “We’re alive!” he shouts in a breathy laugh. Kyoutani has a cut below his eye that beads up with blood, but that seems about it. Yahaba wipes the blood away with his thumb, a giggle still caught on his lips.

Kyoutani grabs his face, crushing their lips together with more force than necessary. Yahaba lets out a squawk, but wraps his arms around the blond for leverage, pulling him closer. The kiss is sloppy, untrained, but with the unrestrained desperation of two boys in need of each other and in a world of their own.

Iwaizumi thinks of Oikawa.

He kicks dirt at the teenagers, bringing them back, “Congratulations, but we need to head out before those vagrants decide to avenge their friends.”

Kyoutani growls at him, ears red, having just remembered Iwaizumi’s presence. Yahaba quickly stands up, face flushed. He nods quickly, silently, as if Kyoutani had swallowed up all his words. His eyes get caught on the blood staining the dirt around him, which in turn leads him to take in the battle field he’d mostly chosen to ignore once the threat had left him. A hand comes up to his mouth in horror at the realization.

He had killed someone.

Nausea builds up behind his hand and the attendant staggers away to the river to empty his stomach. Iwaizumi stops Kyoutani from running after him, holding his forearm, “Let him be,” he says, “It’s gonna take him a moment to accept what’s happened.”

Kyoutani huffs, staying put, “They attacked us.”

“They were still people,” Iwaizumi reminds, “Don’t think so little of your enemies. They deserve your respect.”

Kyoutani pulls his arm free, glaring at the ground. Iwaizumi squeezes his shoulder, and he finds a smirk decorating his features as he leans in, “Shigeru, huh?”

“Fuck off, Iwaizumi,” Kyoutani shouts, blush creeping past his ears to overtake his face as he swats the man away angrily. Iwaizumi ruffles his blond hair in turn, dodging the other’s swipes at him.

“Go wash off all that mud. I’ll go check on Yahaba,” Iwaizumi continues, patting him on the shoulder.

He finds Yahaba sitting at the river bank, hands cupping his face as his shoulders tremble. Iwaizumi takes a seat beside him, watching the river flow beneath him, unimpeded, unbothered, calm and sure.

After a beat of silence, the attendant glances over at him. “I’ve never killed anyone before,” Yahaba murmurs, fingers shifting up into his hair to tug at the light colored strands.

Iwaizumi rests a hand on his shoulder, squeezing, “That’s a good thing.”

“You both, you didn’t even react.”

“After a while, you get numb to it. You have to, when you’re out there. I’m not saying thats a good thing, it’s just, well, it’s the way it is.”

Yahaba rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, taking in a shaky breath, “We need to go, don’t we? I’m slowing you down again.”

“You’re not slowing us down.” Iwaizumi assures, “You’re keeping us mindful.”

“You say that, and yet, you were ready to throw us both away.”

Iwaizumi winces, face scrunching up at the accusation. He stands up, brushing dirt off his butt, “I didn’t throw you away. I wasn’t sure how bad it would get. I wanted to make sure you’d be safe,” he offers his hand down, helping pull Yahaba up once he takes it, “I didn’t know you’d improved your aim so fast.”

Yahaba smiles, shaky, “I just needed to get used to the weight of a dagger. Aim was something Prince Tooru drilled in me during archery practice,” he falters, smile fading from his lips at the memory. The name hangs in the air between them and neither decide to comment on it.  

Iwaizumi turns away, “Come on, we really do need to leave. I want to get out of this cursed forest. It’s teeming with more outlaws than I thought.”

Yahaba swallows, nodding, following after him as they rejoin Kyoutani further ahead. Iwaizumi takes the lead, letting Kyoutani fall into step with Yahaba. Yahaba nudges his elbow with his own and Kyoutani returns the favor with slightly more force. The smile cracks on Yahaba’s face once more, much more sincere and Iwaizumi focuses back on the path ahead.

“If only we had our horses,” Kyoutani grumbles.

Iwaizumi decides not to deem the dig with a response. The trio walk in silence, moving away from the river to the outskirts of the forest. Iwaizumi would rather not be ambushed again, he would like to keep an open view. They would slip back in only to sleep. No more interruptions.

“Hurry up, dumbass!”

The trio freeze, and Iwaizumi nudges them back into the darker woods, ducking them all behind a thick tree. Hoofbeats echo onto the path before them, pausing a few paces ahead.

“They came from here, so, so, he must be here,” the angry voice insists, and Iwaizumi shares a startled glance with Yahaba’s wide eyes.

Another voice joins the first, “You know, it’s hard to keep up with you and drag these other horses with me Kageyama! Oi, what’s with the face! You want to go?”

“It’s not just any horse! It’s Lady! Are you an idiot? It means he’s here!”

“Alright, alright, we’ll look I guess. But we need to reach Lord Kei’s castle before nightfall or my dads will be angry.”

Iwaizumi bites his lips, weighs his options, wonders if this is a blessing or a one way ticket back to the Aoba Johsai dungeon. Yahaba nudges him, giving him a nod. Iwaizumi sighs, and steps out of their cover.

The Princes startle in front of him, interrupted mid-argument. Prince Shouyou draws his sword clumsily, hackles rising in surprise. Prince Tobio stares at him, “Iwaizumi?!”

Prince Shouyou lowers his sword, “Huh?”

Prince Tobio slips off his horse, “What are you doing in Karasuno?”

Iwaizumi remembers to bow, for good measure, “It is good to see you again, sire.” He responds, “I did not expect to find you here either.”

Prince Tobio flicks his gaze out to the forest behind him, “Is he, is he with you?”

Iwaizumi swallows, “No.”

Prince Tobio’s face twists further into a scowl that Iwaizumi has become familiar enough with to call it grief, “Did father send you to bring me back?”

Iwaizumi blinks, shaking his head, “Prince Tobio, I am here of my own volition.”

“Oh wait! I know you!” Prince Shouyou exclaims, “You were the really cool knight.”

Iwaizumi ignores him, keeping his gaze on his prince, “You believe Prince Tooru is alive, too?”

Prince Tobio looks away, “I know it’s, it’s silly, it’s been weeks,”

“It’s not silly,” Iwaizumi places a hand on his shoulder, pausing a moment before continuing, “Will you accompany us through Karasuno? I will tell you everything I know. We all will.”

Prince Tobio looks back over at the admission, eyes widening as he sees Yahaba and Kyoutani step out of their cover to join them. Prince Shouyou lets out a surprised noise.

“Yahaba?” Prince Tobio murmurs, eyebrows furrowing tightly against his eyes, “You’re...You’re here?”

Yahaba bows deeply, legs trembling, mouth moving anxiously before he has time to think of a proper greeting, “Sire, please, believe me, I would never ever harm Prince Tooru. The charges against me are a lie, please, please believe me.”

“Iwaizumi, did you, did you--?” Prince Tobio asks, taking a step back.

“Prince Tobio, we are here because we know where Prince Tooru is and we are going to bring him back,” Iwaizumi says carefully, bring his hands back to his sides.

Prince Tobio backs away further, face a painting of confusion, “Were you the one...Oh God, Father has been...I...”

Yahaba steps forward beside Iwaizumi, “Prince Tobio, we are here to help you.”

Iwaizumi nods, “Let us help you.”

Prince Tobio looks back over to Prince Shouyou who shrugs, nudging him forward. Prince Tobio grits his teeth, flushing slightly despite his glower, “Alright, we, we need to talk. Follow us.”

------------------------------

“I was not expecting so many guests, Prince Shouyou,” Lord Kei states icily, “Nor in such a...disgusting state.”

Iwaizumi steps on Kyoutani’s foot to prevent him from barking something rude out.

Lord Kei notices this but decides not to deem it with a response. Instead, he sweeps his eyes across them, distrustfully but with a hint of amusement, “Well, I suppose I can’t argue with a Prince, let alone two,” he sighs, “Yamaguchi! Draw our guests’ servants a bath and get them cleaned up. They can meet up with us in the drawing room when they are presentable.”

Iwaizumi grits his teeth behind his smile. What a rotten attitude from a Lord, he thinks, especially one so young. He’s certain he’s about Prince Tobio’s age. Tall people were absolutely insufferable.

A sweet servant boy, Yamaguchi, Iwaizumi presumes, makes his way over to them with a shy smile. He leads them out to the baths and helps draw them water. It is a welcome luxury, after weeks toiling on the road, to relax in warm water and wash the grime off their skin.

When they dry off and are presented a clean change of servant’s clothes, Iwaizumi dares to ask for some scissors and a razor. Finally, he is able to give himself a proper shave, with a sharp clean blade. He rubs at his smooth skin with a sigh of relief.

Yahaba cuts Iwaizumi’s hair, as neat as he can. Kyoutani lets him do the same, grumbling a bit about watching out for his ears. Yahaba leaves his own hair be, other than to snip at his bangs to keep his vision clear.

They are lead into a drawing room. Iwaizumi appreciates the beauty of the interior, rich oranges and dark woods creating a warm environment of luxury. He wonders if Karasuno had grown richer in the four years since his last visited, or if the Tsukishima manor had better taste than the castle proper.

The nobles sit on cushions facing around a long table. Yamaguchi offers the entering guests cushions of their own, lining them up by the wall, out of sight.

“So you’re asking me a favor? You wish me to lie?” Lord Kei murmurs, hands leaning back to support himself.

“It’s not lying,” Prince Shouyou insists, “Just, stretching the truth. Only a little!”

“And why should I lie for the sake of a foreigner? Prince or not? Oh wait, or are you King by now?”

Prince Tobio bristles, teeth gritting, “I am not the King.”

“My mistake,” Lord Kei chuckles, eyes flashing, “You must forgive my confusion. Aoba Johsai has been quite a mess recently hasn’t it?”

Prince Tobio’s glare is fierce enough to make Prince Shouyou shrink beside him.

Lord Kei is unaffected, smiling cooly, “How many down now? First the Queen, then the First Son, and now the King’s gone mad, hasn’t he?”

Prince Tobio stands up in his fury, but Lord Kei meets him there, towering over him, “I don’t understand your anger, Prince Tobio. Isn’t this quite the stroke of luck for you? To ascend so quickly, so easily? It’s like the stars have aligned to make you King.”

Prince Tobio grabs him by the collar, bring him down to his height. Lord Kei smiles, keeping his hands at his sides, “Unless, perhaps, Prince Tobio has no wish to be King at all? And that is why he runs from his kingdom? When they’ve fallen into chaos and need him most?

“Or is it, maybe, because the people would rather have chaos, then a selfish King they have no love for at all?”

Iwaizumi is at his own boiling point, hearing a noble talk trash of his kingdom, but before he can step in Prince Shouyou stands up, pulling the two apart, “Might I remind you that I am still here and I am in charge of this kingdom,” he snaps, “Prince Tobio has his reasons. And this favor is to better his kingdom if you’re so concerned about it, Tsukishima. Now if you want to have a fight we can go outside. I’ll take you!”

Lord Kei blinks at the outburst, letting out a light chuckle, “You’re always so amusing, Prince Shouyou,” he murmurs as the redhead scowls at him, “I supposed I would have to follow any favor asked of me by the beloved Sun Prince of Karasuno, wouldn’t I? Though I do not see why helping Aoba Johsai from falling into collapse would be at all beneficial for us.”

“Strengthens our ties!” Prince Shouyou explains, pulling a scowling Prince Tobio closer to his side with a grin, “I’m a master of diplomacy, so just trust me, ok?”

“Right,” Lord Kei says, “I will give your servants provisions for their journey. And I will tell the Kings, if they ask, that you have lengthened your stay in my company. Is that all?”

It is. So, Lord Kei excuses himself into the hall, followed by a scampering Yamaguchi. Iwaizumi can’t help leaning out his head to follow them with his gaze, catching snippets of their conversation as they storm away.

“How can you waste your good fortune? How can you have everything other people would kill to have, and squander it like that? What an ungrateful idiot. People like him irritate me the most.”

Iwaizumi looks back over at the princes, finds Prince Tobio sitting back on the floor, grumbling to himself. Prince Shouyou purses his lips at him. He makes eye contact with Iwaizumi and raises his hands up in surrender.

Iwaizumi rises up, making his way to sit across from the heir, “Prince Tobio,” he starts. Prince Tobio does not look up from his glaring session with the floor. Iwaizumi licks his lips, “What did, what did Lord Kei mean by the King having gone mad?”

Prince Tobio drags his hand through his dark hair, “Father believes that a curse has been placed on the castle. Someone set fire to the orchards, and it consumed most of that part of the grounds. Yahaba escaped and the King swears the servants are to be blamed for all of this. He put the castle on lock down, no one can leave or come in. Even the visiting nobles are stuck there. He keeps writing to me, and the letters are becoming worse and worse. He wants me to come back, so that I can help him set a proper example.”

“That’s royal talk for he wants to execute a bunch of people,” Prince Shouyou explains helpfully.

“I know that, idiot!” Prince Tobio growls. He huffs, looking back at Iwaizumi, “I have never been good at talking to my father, I don’t think I’d be able to stop him. So the best I can do is...”

“Not go back?” Iwaizumi says, incredulously, “But that’s your home.”

“Is it?” Prince Tobio flares, anger still fresh from the recent argument, “I don’t know anymore. There’s nothing there for me.” He swallows, “Kindaichi made it very clear to me before I dismissed him in my anger. How everyone believes I’m just a selfish king to be, not fit to rule at all. Mother’s gone. Tooru never liked me, and now he’s gone too. Why would I go back to a place that doesn’t want me?”

Iwaizumi does not know what to say.

So he says nothing.

Prince Tobio grits his teeth.

Prince Shouyou lays a hand on his shoulder, “Just like I said before, you can stay here as long as you need, Kageyama! It’d be expensive to import so many meat buns if you stayed in Aoba Johsai anyway.”

Prince Tobio snaps at him, “Shut up!”

Prince Shouyou lets out a laugh, “Ho ho! You wanna go? I bet Tsukishima has a ton of meat buns in his kitchen. Who can eat the most first?”

“You’re on.” Prince Tobio agrees, standing up alongside the spritely redhead. But Iwaizumi grabs his forearm, making him pause.

“Aoba Johsai needs a leader, Prince Tobio” he says, carefully.

Prince Tobio squeezes his hands into fists, “I know,” he sighs, “But, I...I’m not ready for that. I need to...I need to figure a lot of things out,” he says, blue eyes glancing at the bright haired prince waiting for him with a hop in his step. Prince Tobio looks back at Iwaizumi, eyes steelier with resolve, “You believe Tooru’s out there right? I will help you, I will do anything to find my brother. To bring him back. To absolve myself of all of this,” he pulls free of Iwaizumi’s grip entirely, “We both know he’s the rightful heir to Aoba Johsai’s throne, whether father agrees to it or not.”

Iwaizumi watches him go with the foreign prince, shoulders relaxed even as he argues with him. And Iwaizumi wonders what magic lives in Karasuno castle, to mature the young prince so quickly in such little time. If it was equal parts the loss of his mother and brother, or if, maybe, it came from the burgeoning friendship with the Sun Prince, the child beloved by its Kingdom, rumored to be made of pure joyful light.

Iwaizumi thinks, then, it would not be so terrible for Prince Tobio to stay here.

--------------------------------------

“This is the dumbest idea we’ve had this whole journey,” Kyoutani huffs, keeping low to the ground.

“There’s not much we can do about it,” Iwaizumi sighs, nudging him forward.

“At least they both didn’t come,” Yahaba reminds.

“I could not spend another moment at Tsukishima’s manor. Don’t act like I’m useless,” Prince Tobio snaps back, crawling forward with a stern scowling face.

“If anything happens to him, you can blame it on me. It can just add to my tally,” Yahaba offers.

Kyoutani kicks him lightly, “Stop being a fucking martyr.”

“Stop fucking the mar-“ Yahaba teases back before receiving another angry kick.

“What are they talking about,” Prince Tobio asks, frowning.

Iwaizumi groans, “They’re beneath you sire, don’t pay them or he gross things they say, any mind.”

It only takes them a few days with the Princely escort to reach the Tri-Kingdom border. There they leave Prince Shouyou with their horses, sneaking into Fukurodani territory under the cover of darkness. Iwaizumi does not know how to feel about Prince Tobio’s insistence on his inclusion in this last part of the mission. Wonders if it truly is only about his dislike for the Karasuno Lord, or if it be from the amalgamation of guilt surely sinking through his system.

Iwaizumi decides not to question it. He is tired. The breeze is getting colder, heralding Winter’s coming arrival, and Iwaizumi longs to stop. To rest for more than a day. To go home.

But home is not a place, not really. Home is where Oikawa is, and he longs to be there again. So he trudges forward, desperately. Their destination so close now he can almost taste.

He can see it in the way the forest grows gloomier and darker, sees it in the coldness of his breath, feels it in the trepidation that gives him goose bumps along his neck. This darkness is not normal, its ethereal. He knows they must be close. He knows that Oikawa has to be here. Somewhere. Everywhere.

Part of him wishes to call out, to shout his name, to order him to stop this unnecessary hiding. To come back to him. But the other part knows that this is foolish. They can not be the only ones in these woods. Being found out now would be disastrous, especially by Fukurodani officials.

“Stay down!” Prince Tobio hisses, suddenly. In one quick move, he plucks an arrow from his back, drawing it upon his bow and firing it inches from Kyoutani’s head. The knight rears back, and inhuman squeal reverberates around them. Black talons retract from the fog, arrow still embedded into the scaly skin as it disappears.

Yahaba pulls Kyoutani back as the blond curses, “The fuck was that?”

“Are we already in the cursed forest?” Iwaizumi mutters, drawing his sword out and crouching low, keeping close to his companions.

Prince Tobio draws another arrow, blue eyes searching the grassy area around them for any hint of movement. He shivers suddenly, as if a coldness brushed against him and he swivels around. Iwaizumi ducks so as not to get hit by the waving arrow, “Watch it.”

Prince Tobio doesn’t reply, swiveling around and around. His calm precise motions becoming more erratic and panicked.

“Sire, are you alright?” Yahaba asks, stepping toward him, lowering his dagger.

“Shut up! Shut up!” Prince Tobio orders, but he’s not looking at Yahaba. He’s looking all over the place. He fires an arrow, it hits a tree, embedding in the bark uselessly.

His blue eyes are wide as they swivel back toward Iwaizumi, fingers trembling, “Make them stop!” He shouts.

Iwaizumi takes a step forward, and Prince Tobio fires his next arrow, scraping across his shin painfully, blood starting to drip down his legs. He lets out a pained hiss, hands coming down to clutch at the new wound.

He hears a voice in his head, are you alright?

Iwaizumi keeps his gaze on Prince Tobio’s shaking form. The boy has dropped his bow entirely, staring at the ground and mumbling to himself. Iwaizumi can’t help but think, in turn, I’m fine, but something is terribly wrong with Prince Tobio.

Iwaizumi shudders, eyes blinking into temporary blindness. There is only darkness around him and terror seizes. But it only for the briefes of moments, because one he blinks again, he can see. He feels winded. He shakes his head out of the coolness that had overtaken him.

Kyoutani is by his side, Yahaba stepping toward the panicking Prince with soothing words. But there’s something else. Iwaizumi tears his eyes away from the scene in favor to look around, because now that he can look away he can feel it. There’s someone else here, something else here. A dark, horrendous presence in the shadows, building up with dread.

And then Iwaizumi sees it, it’s hunkering mass growing, and he’s not sure how he could not see it before. It rises from the darkness of a tree, amassing itself in a plume of black smoke, right behind Prince Tobio. Skinny spindling talons coming down towards the boy, shaking on the ground, pulling at his own hair. Following the spindly arms up the shadow he can see a white, oval mask smiling at him.

He feels his legs stiffen up under him in terror.

How does Yahaba not see it? Or Kyoutani for that matter? Both keep their gaze locked on Prince Tobio’s panic attack, bodies unable to move from both fear and confusion. Iwaizumi tries to get his body to comply, fingers twitching to get to his sword at his side and ready it.

And then, suddenly, there is a fifth presence.

There is a whistle in the air, a sudden gust of wind that billows around them, a dark and foreboding aura encompassing them all, it’s force pushing away at the plumes of smoke. And suddenly a demon rises in their midst, shielding Prince Tobio’s crouching form from the growing darkness.

His wears a dark cloak, hood up. Sharp talons glint in the evening light. The wind pushes the hood back, revealing feral brown hair, and long spiraling horns. Yahaba lets out a shriek, as if revisited by a nightmare, and he backs away completely, grappling for Kyoutani’s arm to pull him back too.

The demon lets out an inhuman snarl, thin tail whipping out. The dark force seems to shrink back, and in that moment’s reprieve the demon bends down to pick the limp Prince up from the ground, shoving him into Iwaizumi’s arm.

It is then, and only then that he makes eye contact with him.

Brown eyes stare into green and Iwaizumi feels his knees about to buckle.

But there is no time for that, because the shadow lets out a sudden bellow. Oikawa doesn’t look back at it, keeps his gaze focused on Iwaizumi, then he lifts his arm and points.

Iwaizumi follows the motion toward the tree in question and knows what he needs to do.