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its-love-u-asshole · 6 years

Text

Twelve Hours [Ch. 4]

Pairings: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei

Summary: Kuroo Tetsurou has dealt with a lot since he was eighteen, each year bringing the same depressing challenges on the same depressing night. He expects this time to be no different, but the universe is trying desperately to prove him wrong in the most bizarre ways imaginable. So screw it, Kuroo’s only choice is to buckle in and hope he doesn’t die. Easy enough. And hey, with some new allies at his side, maybe he has a chance. Who knows? At least Kuroo is sure of one thing in life when it comes to March 15th, and he stands by this unwritten law, no matter what happens:

If you try to kill pizza delivery boys on Purge Night, you’re irrevocably a bitch.

Rating: T

Tags: Purge AU, mentions of violence but nothing graphic or too bad, no character deaths here okay, this is borderline crack and idk what I was thinking, first meetings, other characters, shenanigans and just…a lot of fun (it seems angsty but its not)

Note: Yay for a longer chapter! I’ve been waiting forever to write these particular scenes because gahh finally the rest of the characters show up! I hope you all enjoy this! Please comment if you can <3 And big thanks to @emeraldwaves for reading this over!

AO3

Kuroo was never one to get distracted at dire times, but he couldn't help it right then. They were surrounded, no protection other than the flamethrower clutched in Tsukishima's hands, and even that was risky. Either they torched themselves in the process, or they got shot during the fire. Kuroo could feel the intense stares of the gunmen behind their masks, and didn't feel like making a joke about cliches or tropes. This was real. He'd made it so far over the years, faced so many close calls, but this was too much. There was a slim chance of him making it out of here unscathed, but his brain didn't bother clawing at the possibilities.

All this, all the danger, and yet he couldn't do anything except marvel at how fearless Tsukishima looked, staring down the barrel of a gun.

The blond's glare burned, scathing, like he was trying to melt the gun into a pool of black tar. He might've succeeded, given more time. Kuroo had never seen such pure disdain, and it was as elegant as it was intimidating.

He couldn't stare forever though.

"Sorry to interrupt date night," the masked figure spoke, his tone taunting as he walked closer. His mask was a gaudy yellow with black stripes, different and more vibrant than most. Ah, the leader. Of course.

Kuroo at least laughed in his mind, but it was cut short when the man pressed the gun directly to Tsukishima's forehead. The blond didn't flinch, but Kuroo’s hands trembled with the need to help. The other masked men most likely had their eyes trained on Kuroo and the weapon in his hand. No one could make a move here, too risky.

Hell, if Kuroo was an ass he could blame Tsukishima for all of this. If only the blond hadn't invited him in. Or, if these men were after the blond specifically, damn Tsukishima for wronging them. Still, Kuroo refused to turn against his new friend, stranger or not.

Tsukishima snarled, but made no move to attack as the metal pressed against his pale skin.

"Huh, tough guy," the leader said, more to himself. "I wonder how long that'll last."

Tsukishima didn't seem to be listening, his tone devoid of emotion, like a science documentary narrator. Somehow, it made his words all the more bone chilling, like he was stating pure fact. "I'll end you."

The band of freaks laughed, all except for the one nearest the garage, who stood serenely in the corner. Kuroo couldn't see his eyes through the orange and black mask, but he was positive the other was staring right at him.

"As if you'd get the chance," the leader went on, reaching up to cock his gun back, and Kuroo flinched. Tsukishima was still in front of him, shielding him, and he felt like a failure. He'd never forgive himself if he let the blond die for him, willing or not.

"Now, I'm going to ask this nicely," the man went on, and Kuroo latched onto the shakiness in his voice, the almost childish edge to the demands. "Where is Dr. Takahashi?"

The house descended into silence, the wind and rustle of leaves from outside filling the space. Kuroo had no reason to, but he tensed up. Maybe it was because he saw the rest of the gunmen do the same, not something characteristic of confident, cold-blooded killers. Kuroo grew more and more suspicious by the second, but it wasn't like he'd ever be able to expand on his theory.

He looked to Tsukishima with confusion, because hell, he didn't fucking live here. He barely learned Tsukishima's name today, much less anyone else's. Then again...Tsukishima had said he lived alone. Kuroo knew it better than anyone though, how simple it was to lie.

He didn't hold it against the blond, maybe he'd been looking out for another relative, stashed somewhere in the house. That was why the blond's next words sent him into a new realm of disorientation Kuroo never wanted to visit again.

And like that, the record player of his life scratched.

"...who the fuck is that?" Tsukishima asked, face morphing into something Kuroo could only describe as unadulterated, 'get off my lawn' level annoyance.

The room was thrown into another whirlwind of silence, but this one felt less life threatening, more...what was the phrase...

Like someone had just farted but no one dared take responsibility. Yeah, that was it.

The gang leader's shoulders drooped notably as he glanced around at his comrades, gun still hanging in the air like some James Bond wannabe. "Uh...you--Dr. Takahashi, where is he hiding--"

"Yeah, I'm blind not deaf, thank you, I heard what you said," Tsukishima repeated, and he actually...are you legit fucking taking your hands off the flame thrower to put them on your hips?!

Kuroo's jaw dropped at the boldness, and wow, the blond was either ridiculously courageous or suicidal. Maybe both.

"I don't know who that is," Tsukishima went on with a sigh, like this whole thing was some inconvenient episode, like he'd just filed his taxes instead of facing four guns.

The gunmen weren't having it.

"Don't lie!" A bigger, bulkier man in a red mask shouted, before the leader pacified him with a hand to the chest.

Everyone continued to keep their guns up, but it seemed to mean nothing to Tsukishima. "I'm--I'm not lying you moron, this is my house, I know who lives in it! I'm pretty sure I've never seen what's his face at the dinner table."

"Fuck you! I know he's here. Where is he? Underground?" The gunman yelled back, tripping over his words. His henchmen in the back were turning to each other, guns slowly lowering. Even without seeing their faces, Kuroo could sense the confusion.

Hey, same dudes, fucking same.

And yet, he let the screaming match continue, because as fucking bizarre as this was, Tsukishima was very hot when he was angry.

"You're going to be underground if you don't get this gun out of my face." Angrily, the blond batted the gun away, and fuck, the other guy actually gasped at the damn audacity. "I don't know who you're talking about, so either cough up some details or get out!"

At this point the other guys in the back were not paying attention, whispering to each other, and Kuroo wondered if somehow in the past twenty minutes, he'd ascended.

Meanwhile, the gang leader was throwing an absolute shit fit. "Ugh-you--you know! Dr. Takahashi, he's a surgeon! Old guy, no hair...he's...he looks like he sweats money but wouldn't tip you--"

"Do you know what neighborhood you're in? That's like everyone?"

"Fucking--just--where is he?"

"Not here. But hey, congrats on a successful intimidation, I'm shaking," Tsukishima said, tilting his head with a rueful smile.

"Uh..." Kuroo began, looking to the henchmen for some support because hey, no one else was there to help. They both just shrugged at him.

Awesome.

"My sources say he lives here! 45 West Elm, you can't trick me...you...fucking--nerd, ha!" The leader continued, his pose haughty and not unlike the head of a high school clique.

Kuroo expected a returning taunt, a critique on how awful of an insult that was (because seriously? middle school girls could do better), but the blond just stared into the void which was the leader's face, like he wanted nothing more than for the ground to drag him right to hell.

"......this is 45 Elm, you twit."

"Oh goddammit," the henchman in the corner finally whispered, like he couldn't help it, like he was watching an action thriller and he'd just figured out the twist.

And hell, safety be damned, the leader turned to his friend, pointing at him with the energy of a thousand petty twelve year olds. "Shut up! That's...that's not--"

"West Elm is on the other side of town," Tsukishima kept hammering nails into this poor bastard's coffin, and Kuroo looked to the ceiling for guidance.

I take back what I said, I'm definitely in love.

The leader choked, his gun at his side, long forgotten. "No...no I was sure I put in the address right."

He dropped his gun, fishing his phone out of his jacket pocket, and his henchmen began to do the same, ready to confirm or deny. What world were they in right now?

"Uh...boss...I think he's right," another man in a turquoise mask said, coughing awkwardly.

The leader only stood there, and Kuroo felt like he was reading an error message on the computer of his entire existence.

"The houses are much nicer there too, as in you can't just ram your car through them like a savage," Tsukishima went on, and Kuroo swore to god, everyone in the room winced. "What? Were you too busy going the wrong direction to pull into the driveway?"

The leader's knees went shaky, and Kuroo could see his chest moving from his panicked pants, and oh...oh, man down, man down.

The other sank to his knees, his mask doing nothing to hide the despair. And what the fuck, why was Kuroo feeling sorry for this guy? In a last ditch effort to appear in control, the masked man raised his gun back on a very disgruntled looking Tsukishima. "You. You're wrong--I'm...j-don't fucking move or I'll blow your head off!"

"Yeah sure, maybe get a fucking compass first so you know which direction to point."

"Aw c'mon," the other whispered to the floor, and yeah, that was some cold shit. Then, for the first time all night, he turned to Kuroo, shoulders sagged. "Hey dude, can you tell your boyfriend to calm down or something?"

The word 'boyfriend' did more things to his heart than he would've liked, especially in this kind of situation. "Uh..."

Tsukishima silenced him, stepping closer to the kneeling man. “N-He’s not gonna tell you shit, I’m right!”

"You're lame is what you are!" The other threw back pathetically, gun falling to the floor. If Kuroo knew any better, he'd call the tone a whimper.

Not that Tsukishima spared him at all. "If that's the best insult you have, I'm surprised you made it this far."

"Sorry for being a little distracted!"

"Well I'm sorry you can't use a GPS!"

"Oi...Terushima---" One of the men behind him coughed, crouching down to give his leader a supportive pat on the back. It didn't help, but whatever, Kuroo had a name now.

"Shhh, dude! I told you codenames only," Terushima said in a hushed whisper, pounding his fist on the floor like a six year old at the toy store.

"Oh. Right. Okay but here's the thing, I forgot your codename--"

"Swear to god Futakuchi. I mean...Iron Shield."

Both Kuroo and Tsukishima snorted. Maybe Kuroo had died already.

"Stupid ass name..." The bulkier guy in the red mask whispered, and Futakuchi turned on him, his turquoise mask revealing nothing but betrayal.

Kuroo was more likely to die from laughter at this point than by bullet.

"Oh?" Futakuchi continued, standing up. Red Mask was shorter by an inch or so, but those muscles looked like they could break this Futakuchi guy like a toothpick if he so chose. "I didn't hear you object to it at the meeting!"

"I didn't want to hurt your precious feelings," Red Mask taunted, throwing his hands up. "You shot down all of my codename ideas!"

"Yeah, 'cause they sucked."

"Guys please...both your names suck," the pleasant voice from the corner was back, his presence calming but his words like steel. "We went over them five times, you should remember."

"Sorry Suga," they both said automatically, before the realization set in for them both. "Fuck."

"Do you all wanna take this outside so I can have my crisis in peace please?" Terushima interrupted, still very much on the floor, and very much lost to the world.

"What's the difference between here and a few feet away?" Tsukishima asked, bending down until he was at Terushima's level. "There's a hole in my wall."

"Do you have home insurance?" Futakuchi offered, unhelpfully if Kuroo might add.

Tsukishima's eyes blazed like fire. "Do you have life insurance?"

"I mean who doesn't? In this economy," Red Mask chimed in, only for Suga to tap him, shaking his head in disappointment.

"Not really the time Yamamoto."

"But--"

"No."

"Hey think of it as a fair exchange," Futakuchi sighed, speaking directly to Tsukishima. "We broke your window..."

"You broke my wall."

"And you broke our leader," he finished, pointing back to the pitiful puddle which used to be Terushima. The guy was sprawled out on the floor babbling to himself.

"I can't believe I entered the wrong address, how could this happen, I'm a garbage person, leave me in the dumpster...."

And for the first time that night, Tsukishima looked concerned, and he cast Suga a questioning gaze, since he seemed the most rational of the bunch.

"Oh, he’ll bounce back," the other said, waving him off.

"....sure about that?" Tsukishima asked, watching Kuroo as he warily approached the man child.

"How could I not know how to enter the right address? If I can’t do that there’s no telling what else I missed. I’ll probably mess up something else, whatifImesssomethingelse up and we fail—"

“Probably all possible, but you really shouldn’t give up that easily,” Kuroo said, trying to be supportive. What? He was more of a realist these days.

Tsukishima rolled his eyes, but shrugged. "He's got a point."

Ha.

"Teru...Teru you're embarrassing us, get up," Futakuchi said, kneeling down to tap on his friend's chest.

"Just leave me here to die."

"I can't do that, I have no clue how to drive your car."

"Fuck you."

"I mean judging from the wall, neither does he," Kuroo muttered, and immediately received a room of mask-concealed glares. He didn't need to see them, he knew they were there. Except from Tsukishima. The blond's lips quirked a bit at the corners, effectively giving Kuroo an additional three years of life.

"My life is meaningless, I can't drive, I can't purge, I'm like....95% sure I left my lights on--"

"Not to interrupt you," Futakuchi said, "even though I totally mean to interrupt you, but can we maybe put down all the weapons now? They seem sorta pointless."

"Pointless?" Kuroo asked, beating Tsukishima to the punch. "You're strangers who just broke into this house, and worse you took out the dogs--"

"Oh we didn't kill them," Yamamoto piped up from the back. "They're just knocked out. The fuck? We're not monsters."

And at that one statement, Tsukishima finally unclipped his flamethrower in a show of peace, the sound of it hitting the floor enough to make Terushima lift his head. "Are you fucking serious? That's all it took? We could be cannibals, or pft, organ harvesters, but just because we didn't kill your dogs you're cool--"

"Listen, I know fake bad boys when I see them, I've been in enough bars," Tsukishima shot back, undeterred. "If you can't kill my 90 pound guard dogs, you're not gonna kill shit. You probably can't even choose the mean dialogue options in video games--"

"Hey."

"--so I doubt I need to burn you alive." Tsukishima kicked at his flamethrower for emphasis. "Of course, I wouldn't hesitate otherwise."

"You'd just run the risk of burning yourself, asshole," Futakuchi said, and oh...this poor naive soul. Tsukishima and Kuroo exchanged a glance so harmonious not even partners of thirty years could come close to achieving it.

Stepping forward, Tsukishima stared at Futakuchi dead on, reaching up to calmly remove his mask. No one moved, too frozen. Futakuchi's wide brown eyes and young face were not surprising, but the fear in them made Kuroo grin fiercely.

Tsukishima clicked his tongue, throwing the mask into the debris of his wall. “I thought you killed my dogs moron, I would've gladly torched all of you and myself.”

And with that, no more questions about Tsukishima's ruthlessness were raised.

After a good five minutes, all the people in the house (even those in mental comas) decided it was probably best to not stand around arguing where anyone could walk in and well...kill them all.

Although, given what had already transpired, Kuroo wouldn't have been surprised if he went out in such a stupid way.

It's one of those nights.

Kuroo sighed as he walked into the garage, making sure the group of strangers walked in before him and Tsukishima. Now, Kuroo was a good judge of character most days, so it wasn't that he necessarily expected them to turn around and get violent (especially not when they looked as if they'd just been bankrupted). But people did dumb things during the Purge, but more importantly, he wanted to protect Tsukishima in the same way the other had been ready to do. It was the thought that counted.

However, he probably could've let his guard down the moment Futakuchi and Yamamoto tag teamed to drag Terushima's lifeless body into the garage, but whatever.

"Goddamn," Tsukishima muttered as he closed the door leading into the room, locking it with a complicated set of locks that not even Kuroo, with all his memorization and analytical skills, could figure out how to undo. It was then he noticed the door was made of some high strength metal, and yeah...he had to admire this level of preparation.

Smiling to himself, Kuroo looked to the corner of the garage, where Tsukishima's dogs were peacefully snoozing, joined only by Yamamoto. It was impossible to resist petting them, so Kuroo could relate. Seeing them there was still making him double take though. Tsukishima had picked them up and carried them there himself. Amazing.

"All the neighbors are going to be spreading rumors now thanks to you lot," the blond continued to say, pulling at his shirt collar. "They all probably think I'm dead."

"Well they're gonna be disappointed in the morning then," Futakuchi deadpanned, but luckily Tsukishima himself didn't need to step in to dish out punishment.

Suga did it for him.

"Ow!" Futakuchi shouted as Suga's palm met the back of his head with a symphony quality slap. It was such an instantaneous, fluid movement, Kuroo had to wonder if it was a normal occurrence. "Hey!"

Suga ignored the outburst, his now visible brown eyes crinkling in annoyance. Somehow, having all members without their masks made the situation more ridiculous than before. "Don't be so rude! You put a car through his window."

"Uh, wall," Kuroo corrected.

Hey, he had to stay on Tsukishima's good side.

"Whatever! I said I'd help fix it!"

Somewhere in the corner of the garage, Yamamoto piped up from where he was petting the sleeping dogs, his tone less taunting and more...blunt. "With what money?"

Ouch. Cold-blooded.

"You're not helping," Futakuchi hissed, his face blooming a familiar shade of 'I'm broke as a damn joke' red. "I'll figure it out."

"Sure..."

Tsukishima stepped forward before the the conversation could further escalate, and his presence alone made them all lean back a fraction. Kuroo would stay by his side forever for reactions like that. The only one immobile was Terushima, who was barely starting to come out of his stupor through blinking eyes and the occasional groan.

"Can someone just explain to me what you're all doing here?" Tsukishima asked, simple and straight to the point. Good. Kuroo couldn't take any more B movie levels of suspense.

At the question, the group winced and yeah. So much for straight forward answers. Suga's gaze flicked down to their great leader as he slowly raised himself to a sitting position on the hard concrete, and Kuroo felt sympathy once again. Terushima was basically the poster child for someone who'd just woken up from a very long nap, and now needed to know what year it was.

Sadly for him though, the day hadn't passed, and he was still stuck in the Purge.

Suga regarded him with the same, concerned eyes, as did the rest of his group. It made Kuroo think of Bokuto and Akaashi, and how if Kuroo had ever been in a similar state, they'd surely be looking at him the same exact way.

It made his throat tighten a bit, and he instinctively moved to Tsukishima's side, where he felt more grounded.

Suga sighed after the silence stretched on, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, see, we're--"

"No Koushi, this was my plan," Terushima spoke up, startling them all. His voice cracked, hoarse, but he persevered. "I'll explain."

And though Suga had never hesitated to argue in the past thirty minutes, he closed his mouth, silent.

And then, all attention was on Terushima. At least the guy was smart, because the first thing he did was bow his head at Tsukishima. "First off, I'm sorry for ruining your house, and for threatening you. I never meant to hurt innocent people, and there's no excuse for that."

Tsukishima's eyes actually widened, his crossed arms falling as if to welcome the apology. Gone was the standoffish nature, mostly because neither he or Kuroo had expected such a genuine admission of guilt.

It elevated Terushima far more than they were probably willing to admit aloud, but it made an impression, and their opinion of him shot way up.

Wordlessly, Tsukishima nodded, his acceptance clear.

Terushima smiled weakly, sighing while he collected his thoughts. His gelled hair had lost a lot of its shine, a few strands falling into his eyes, and he nervously pulled at them, the word vomit spilling in an inelegant burst. "Someone fucked over my mom, and now I need to kill him."

Oh. Well. Hm.

Kuroo turned to Tsukishima, expecting alarm of some sort, or anything really, but the blond only nodded, raising his eyebrow as if to say 'yes, of course, please continue.'

And Terushima did. "This guy Dr. Takahashi, he promised my mom he'd take care of her. See...my mom...she got in an accident a few years back, she can't take care of things as well as she used to."

At the mention of an accident, Kuroo saw Tsukishima's eyes flicker with raw understanding, and it was then Kuroo noticed he'd barely been glancing at Terushima the entire time.

It was too weird, like some cheap love novel, the incessant desire he felt to chase the blond with his gaze ever since he'd walked up to his door.

"And this guy...he was going to help you," Tsukishima supplied, and Kuroo wondered if it was a kindness. Terushima was getting choked up, but the light prodding helped him move on.

"Yeah, yeah he was," Terushima whispered, and Futakuchi grabbed his shoulder. "He told her he'd invest her money, that he knew good companies to trust. She got desperate. And he's been her fucking doctor so long, she thought she could trust him. She--my mom, she's always been too nice you know? Even with all his shit, she never doubted people. I told her she couldn't do that anymore and she, she wouldn't listen."

They never do.

Kuroo thought of Bokuto, of the giddiness and trust which had never truly died until this night rolled around. Those people with light still locked in them, they had to be protected at all costs, and something told Kuroo that goal had been uprooted in Terushima's case. He was upset for him, angry.

Tsukishima must've been too, from the way his hands were fisted in the sleeves of his sweater. Again, Kuroo moved closer, until they shared warmth.

"You can guess what happened," Terushima said with a laugh, his shoulders trembling. By now his friends had crowded closer, and neither Tsukishima nor Kuroo had stopped them. "When she found out he'd taken all her money and spent it, lied to her...it broke her heart. She was so stressed and worried about me, about supporting me and getting me through school. She didn't get that I didn't care about school, I didn't need it, if it meant losing her."

At that Kuroo's gut twisted, the unbearable assumption settling low and weighing down his heart. Oh no...

"You know, my mom, she's naive but she's never been unprepared," Terushima whispered, staring at the cold ground. "And she has one great life insurance policy."

Tsukishima grabbed his hand at the same moment Kuroo's breath flooded out of him, prying emotions out of him he was sure he'd repressed. Too much. This was far too much for someone to bear, and he cursed this holiday a hundred times, a thousand.

Luckily, it wasn't as bad as they'd assumed.

Terushima shook his head at their stunned expressions. "She couldn't do it. But just..."

Just the thought she would've must've been agonizing.

"But when she couldn't go through with it, the world threw us another fucking curve ball. She got sick, she got sick because she worked more jobs, more hours...it's all his fault," Terushima snarled. "She can barely walk and she's still working from home, still crying...well, not anymore. Not ever again. I was--I'm going to fix things, and it all starts with that bastard. I'm going to kill him for everything he's done, and I don't care how many mistakes I make, I'm finishing this."

"Even if it means purging?" Kuroo couldn't help but ask, as damn insensitive as it might've been. Dammit. This doctor deserved every ounce of hatred Terushima had for him, and Kuroo didn't think Terushima's intentions were wrong.

But, it would never sit 100% well with him. The Purge. Purging. All of it was a cycle, creating more violence and more horrible people just like Takahashi. Kuroo knew himself well, knew he'd never, but who was Terushima really? Did he have it in him to risk it all like this? Or worse, did he have the self control to stop himself once he did?

The garage fell into a tense silence, and for the first time in a while, he felt Tsukishima gaze on him. The other hadn't let go of his hand yet, and instead let it slip to his wrist. He may not have known Tsukishima well, but in this case, he knew the blond understood better than anyone where he was coming from.

Both of them feared deep down, there would be no end to this.

But, perhaps he didn't deserve to judge so quickly.

"Yes," Terushima answered, but his frown communicated nothing but guilt, the only thing Kuroo wanted to see. "I know that sounds bad, and I get it better than most people. Look, Takahashi...he used to be such a nice guy before all this, I never would've expected him to do what he did. The Purge ruins people, it makes them this way. But I need to do this. I won't let it get the best of me."

I won't let it change me.

Kuroo used to promise that to himself every night, sometimes he still did, but ultimately he had failed. The crippling anxiety, the bad grades, the shitty job...he'd let the Purge drag him farther than he was willing to admit.

It had done the same to Tsukishima. It had done it to Akaashi and Bokuto in some ways too. Really, it had infected everyone in many ways. It would most likely drag Terushima farther down than it already had too, but it was up to Kuroo to keep some ounce of faith alive in his soul, to believe the other had the right to do this.

Tsukishima sighed at the same time as Kuroo did, and he wondered if they'd been thinking the same things. He wouldn't be surprised.

"And the rest of you joined him so easily huh? No doubts?" Tsukishima asked, not accusingly, but in a way one might appraise a painting. Like it was the final question he needed to cement his opinion. Kuroo couldn't help but grin.

The night was turning into more of an emotional rollercoaster than usual, which...he didn't think was possible.

The feeling just increased when none of the group had an issue answering. Yamamoto stepped forward, certain and strong. "We'd do anything for Terushima, he's like family, and that son of a bitch Takahashi has it coming."

"And as much as we hate the Purge, we'll support Yuuji's decisions," Suga added, smirking. "Besides, he needs us. Or did you not see your wall?"

And damn, Kuroo laughed so suddenly Tsukishima jumped, but beneath the annoyance sat amusement which Kuroo would do anything to witness on a daily basis.

Tsukishima was full of surprises that way, and he never seemed to have an issue with knocking Kuroo on his ass with his unexpected actions.

"Obviously you guys aren't enough if he can't use a GPS or drive a car," Tsukishima said, clicking his tongue. Glancing over at where Kuroo's Death Mobile was parked, he squinted, shaking his head at nothing in particular. "You're going to need more help getting through that neighborhood. There's armed guards and class privilege everywhere, it's disgusting."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying blondie?" Futakuchi asked, his shock about as transparent as Kuroo's.

Kuroo spun to face Tsukishima with a gaping mouth, grasping at words like a toddler. "Uh, yeah, are you?"

There was no way he was. Tsukishima hated going out during the Purge, said he never would again. On top of that, he couldn't. He could get hurt, or worse. The protective instincts flared up inside of Kuroo alongside his panic, and Tsukishima either didn't notice or didn't care.

"Kuroo, we've been out there before, these losers will die out there--"

"Hey."

"And we can't exactly stay here in the garage all night, as riveting as it sounds," Tsukishima finished, turning to glare at the steal garage door holding them off from all the chaos out there. He was biting at his lip, picking at his fingernails...Kuroo could tell he was nervous, second guessing himself. So why?

"Why the hell not? Tsukki, we don't purge remember?" Kuroo protested, ignoring the way Tsukishima's cheeks tinted at the nickname (and believe him, what a task that was).

"We won't be purging, he is," Tsukishima said, turning to Terushima's still 'I'm too shocked to move' form.

Kuroo babbled uselessly, moving his hands in ways he hoped were convincing. Out of all the things Tsukishima could've done, he'd never anticipated the blond offering his help on Purge night. It seemed so out of character, and yet...something about it...made sense in ways Kuroo couldn't fully grasp yet. And worse, he was so close to joining him, to saying fuck it all.

Because isn't this what Kuroo always wanted to do, deep down? Act like a dumb hero, to forget he was jaded and ruined inside, to help people who needed it during the worst night of the year? The answer was a loud, resounding yes. Kuroo's first instinct was to give the go ahead, to do whatever he could to make sure good people didn't suffer. He hated being so afraid. He wanted to be eighteen again, brave and confident and everything he'd dreamed of being before it all dissolved in his hands.

But was he willing to finally take that risk? He'd been avoiding all cries for help for years, all the screams and tragedies, he'd turned a blind eye to every single one. Why this one? Why now?

"Ugh, but--" There was hardly a point to his arguing though, with those eyes on him, so intense, so pleasing.

"He's just like me, what I had to do," Tsukishima whispered, not explaining anything more. He rarely needed to with Kuroo, he understood loud and clear. "The stupid universe is going to strike me if I don't do this, and I'll be damned if more rich assholes get what they want when I actually have a say. It's annoying and all I wanted to do tonight was read a book but I'm not dumb enough to think I can get away with that now."

And what was Kuroo supposed to say to that? Good luck? Was he supposed to leave?

Like he could.

Like it or not, his heart willed him to follow Tsukishima's lead, and if he spent more time weighing the pros and cons, he'd no doubt reach that same conclusion anyways.

Who knew why now he'd finally decided to take a chance? He wouldn't question it. Eighteen year old Kuroo had been a man of action, and now he was older, he figured it was fair to pay his respects to that.

"Well, are you coming?" Tsukishima sighed, like it was a huge inconvenience, but Kuroo knew better. Tsukishima's nails were being picked until they were nubs, and the blond's eyes shone with something vulnerable and solely for Kuroo.

He laughed, pushing up Tsukishima's disheveled frames fondly before turning back towards the group. They all waited with bated breath, but he wouldn't let them down. "You bet."

Yamamoto pumped his fist into the air while Terushima's face broke out into a grin, already rewarding enough for Kuroo. To say nothing of Suga, he looked like he'd expected this outcome from the beginning, smug and sure of himself. Futakuchi...well, Kuroo didn't know why he was squinting at him and Tsukishima, and he didn't get the chance to ask.

"Wait, your car only has five seats," Tsukishima said to Kuroo, gesturing to his armored war machine of a pizza delivery vehicle. Shit.

Unless one of them could shift through matter, they'd have to leave someone behind.

Or so he thought.

"That's where you're wrong bitches," Terushima said, and no matter how dangerous his smile was, Kuroo had no choice but to trust him.

They were all a team now, and he just hoped it ended up being a good thing.

When Terushima walked them outside to see his car, Kuroo didn't know what he'd been expecting.

Not this.

"Boom," Terushima said enthusiastically as he opened one of the huge doors to the dark, black van. The door beeped as it slid open automatically, echoing into the street, and Kuroo felt like he was in kindergarten all over again. "Eight seater, cunts."

Kuroo and Tsukishima stood there, arms crossed and weapons drawn in the event of an outside attack, but honestly, if the car didn't distract an assailant long enough, nothing would defeat them.

It's a monster. A blot on humanity's record.

"Wow, what are you, a suburban mom?” Tsukishima asked, though he appreciatively eyed the tough tires and armored shell. Kuroo didn't care. There was something sinful and wicked about a fucking van looking ready to face the apocalypse. Basically, it made Kuroo's car look like a little bitch, which he did not appreciate.

He'd been outdone. He'd been had.

“I wish, then maybe he'd have a goddam dvd player in here," Suga muttered as he piled into the car. "I'm just gonna wait here."

"He's never gonna let me live that down," Terushima whispered under his breath. "You sleep on one car upgrade and suddenly you're evil."

"Pretty much," Futakuchi said, weaseling into the passenger seat. "Now come on, we got a schedule to keep."

"What schedule? We already hit the side of the house, our checklist is done," Terushima said, sardonically.

"Can you just get in the driver's seat please," Futakuchi replied, throwing his hands up in surrender.

Kuroo wasn't sure how long it would take for them to drive him insane, but he gave it three hours. He gave Tsukishima one.

"Well since you asked nicely." Terushima slid around the front of the car as Futakuchi slammed his door shut, and Kuroo followed Tsukki back into the garage one last time to make sure his dogs were settled.

"Sure everything in the house will be okay?" Kuroo asked. He knew Tsukishima didn't exactly think of the place as home, but surely he had some things of value in there.

The blond simply nodded. "I hid everything I care about, now it's just making sure the boys are locked in," he said, smiling at where Yamamoto sat crouched down, playing with the dogs' floppy ears. They were still in dreamland, but they seemed happy.

Giving them a nod, Yamamoto walked back to the car, leaving them alone.

Tsukishima leaned down, caressing the slightly bigger dog's face in his hands. He rubbed soft circles, and Kuroo smiled, his heart flipping. Maybe it was the image of Tsukishima with dogs, or the evidence of his love for them, but either way, Kuroo prayed they'd stay safe for the blond's sake.

"Cas, I'm going to need you to take care of your brother when you wake up," Tsukishima whispered to the dog, the last time his tone would be so gentle. "Don't worry. I'll come back."

He said it with such seriousness, such spitefulness, Kuroo had no way of questioning him, not even for a moment.

After a few more minutes, they walked back out, and Tsukishima closed the steel plated garage door, sealing the dogs in, as well as their decision to leave.

Fuck this is happening. Okay.

He might've panicked before, but for whatever reason, Kuroo was...at peace with his, and he strolled easily back into the car, taking his place in the back row with Tsukishima.

Just then, a final, insignificant thought crossed his mind as Tsukishima was pulling himself up into the car. "Hey, what about your TV?"

There was no way Tsukishima could've taken the time to store that. He'd been so efficient...

Of course, it was wrong of Kuroo to think the blond hadn't anticipated such a thing. His face twisted with conflict, as if he was debating on going back into the house. “I don’t give a fuck about the TV...but if they touch my Child’s Play DVDs I’ll be pissed."

Oh.

It was a sentiment Kuroo could get behind. "There's still time for you to go get them."

Tsukishima shook his head, expression grim. "No point now, I have to take the risk."

"You are so brave," Kuroo said, placing a consoling hand on the blond's shoulder.

"It’s what Brad Dourif would've wanted."

"Can you two please shut the fuck up and get in the car," Futakuchi said, and at that moment Kuroo remembered that they weren't alone. Suga was most definitely laughing, awesome. "Christ."

Rolling his eyes, Tsukishima closed his door, shooting Kuroo one last smug little grin. If that didn't give Kuroo the energy to face the rest of the night, he didn't know what would.

The purring of the engine as Terushima turned the car on made Kuroo's shoulders tense, but he didn't regret his place in the car next to Tsukishima.

No matter how the night turned out, he would do whatever he could to help Terushima get closure, and when the time came, he hoped they could both handle the consequences.

Naturally, they'd have to get there first though.

"Uh, guys," Terushima said, laughing anxiously into the quiet space of the car. "I think we need gas."

And without hesitation, Tsukishima opened up the car door, and took one step outside. "You know what, never mind. Run me over."

With that, Kuroo buckled himself in for the most eventful night of his life.

#kurotsuki #adri writing #haikyuu!!#kuroo tetsurou #tsukishima kei

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