Chapter Text
When Nishinoya opened the door to the employees only room, Asahi had a split second of absolute panic. He pictured a team of masked guards with assault rifles and dogs waiting for them on the other side. A vision of a bullet blasted down the hall and into his chest and he choked.
“Come on, big guy,” Nishinoya appealed, and Asahi took a deep breath. The hall was empty except for the thin layer of water that covered the linoleum floor. Asahi stumbled forward, grabbing Nishinoya’s offered hand.
Another crash from around the corner at the end of the hall made Nishinoya jump. “Shit,” he breathed, but Asahi could hear the wild, adrenaline-fueled smile.
“Didn’t you say that was the only way in?” Asahi asked, voice hushed but bright with desperation.
Nishinoya looked back to meet Asahi’s eyes and wiggled his eyebrows. “Doesn’t mean it’s the only way out,” he said, and then he broke into a sprint.
Asahi’s arm was jerked and he followed clumsily. Nishinoya’s legs were much shorter but he was much more sprightly—if Asahi weren’t running on emotional fumes he’d be able to run faster, probably, but as it was he felt like the only thing helping him keep up was the small hand in his. Their bare footsteps splashed in the water.
Another crash. “They’re going to break through,” Asahi whined.
“Exactly,” Nishinoya said. They were reaching the end of the hall. “Sorry, I just came up with this like two seconds ago so you’re gonna have to trust me!”
“What?” Asahi started, but then they were rounding the corner. The water was rocking back and forth with waves that hadn’t completely dissipated after the pool had been pulled down. The debris had been scattered further down, as a result of whatever the guards were doing to break through it.
“We’re going up!” Nishinoya said, and that was all the warning Asahi had before Nishinoya’s body burst into a dazzling sapphire and he felt a rush at his calves.
The water hit like a tsunami hitting a beach, sweeping Asahi off his feet and jerking his hand away from Nishinoya’s. At the same moment he saw the pile of detritus give way and the faces of the guards. The hole in the ceiling was wide and jagged, revealing the interior of the ceiling and a vent system left hanging off the edges. Before water covered his mouth Asahi caught the face of one of the guards, gun strapped at his side.
There was no surprise. There was no yelling. No orders were being given. The water pushed Asahi above the ceiling and onto the wreck of the next floor. The guards looked like they had done their job. Like they were waiting. Like they had expected Asahi and Nishinoya to go up.
The water pulled away as quickly as it had come and Asahi dropped onto a patch of rubble-covered floor, coughing. A hunk of concrete dug into his shin but he ignored it, scrambling back and searching for Nishinoya.
Nishinoya pushed himself to his hands and knees, across a fallen steel support from Asahi. He shook water out of his hair and his eyes flicked across the hallway until they met Asahi’s. He wasn’t glowing at all, and he looked as though he’d been winded.
“I’m running out of gas,” he admitted, cracking out a smile.
“Don’t push yourself,” Asahi warned.
“Nah,” Nishinoya said, waving a hand dismissively as he got to his feet. His clothes were loose and stuck to his body. Asahi imagined his were doing the same. “I don’t think I have enough happy left in the tank to pull one of those off again,” he continued. “But anyway. We gotta get moving.”
Asahi nodded. He picked his way carefully around the rougher debris on the floor. The ceiling lights down the hall were on, the nearest ones flickering uncertainly. Asahi reached out his hand before he realized what he was doing, and Nishinoya’s found it immediately. Asahi glanced over and found Nishinoya smiling at him, tired and hurt but still absolutely blinding. Asahi returned it with a small smile of his own and squeezed Nishinoya’s hand.
“Then let’s go,” Asahi said, betraying confidence he didn’t feel.
They took off again. Nishinoya’s head bobbed around as he read the signs on doors. “Stairs up here,” he said.
“That’s where they’ll be coming from, right?” Asahi asked.
“I can get through them,” Nishinoya said, voice suddenly fierce. There was no sound of boots on the steps and Asahi thought for a clear moment that they might actually be able to get away, at least for now. Nishinoya let go of Asahi’s hand and crept forward, peering around the corner of the doorframe and into the stairwell.
“You may not have to,” Asahi said, and then he heard the crack.
It was similar to the sound the ceiling of the cabin had made when the fire had started, and for a split second Asahi had no idea what it could be. Then there was another pop, followed by another, and before either of them had the time to react the ceiling between them crumbled and the force of a small explosion knocked Asahi back. A piece of ceiling glanced off his arm, scraping two trails of raw skin, and a piece of concrete nearly hit his head.
He fell onto his ass and immediately scrambled up, straight into a cloud of dust. “Nishinoya!” he cried out, the situation hitting him in a single instant. He coughed roughly, trying to fight through the smoke. The hall was dark now, the lights above them killed in the blast.
“Karasu-san!” Asahi heard Nishinoya scream from the other side of the rubble. The dust was still settling and debris was shifting, but Asahi could also hear footsteps behind him. From the direction of the hole in the floor they’d come up through.
“I’m okay,” he managed to throw back before the footsteps were on him and he was forced to his knees.
It didn’t come as as much of a surprise as Asahi thought it would. He’d known, from the look on the guard’s face as they ascended through the ceiling, that this wasn’t their lucky break. They were smart—smarter than Asahi or Nishinoya, and they had more power. Asahi didn’t know quite how, but as he was pushed into the ground and the muzzle of a gun was placed at the base of his head, he knew it had been a trap.
There was nothing in his mind, though. He wanted to be feeling something, even if it was fear, or anger, or relief. The safety of the gun clicked and the strange disbelief gripped Asahi in a way that made it difficult to register what was happening around him. At the same time he felt hyper-aware, in an objective way. Gun to his head, safety off, killing shot. Capture Nishinoya, use him for his powers, act like none of this ever happened.
There was a sound, like a dynamite blast, and Asahi fell forward. He caught himself on his hands and for a moment he was absolutely sure he’d been shot. Of course it would be his lot to not have it kill him instantly. There was no pain, other than the various small injuries across his body, and he waited. Waited. No more than a second could have passed but it felt like he was waiting for so long. The ground under his hands rumbled and shook and then he heard the creaking of nails and steel.
“Captain,” the guard said. The fuzz of a walkie-talkie followed, and then a garbled voice. “Captain, please repeat.”
“Forget the fucking—unintelligible—ground floor all men—unintelligible—oh-four-one-three-one—unintelligible—Samson is HERE—”
There was no blood. No blood in front of Asahi, nothing trickling down his neck. He hadn’t been shot. Holy shit. He hadn’t been shot.
“You’re kidding me,” the guard hissed. “The fuck do I do with Azumane?”
Asahi scrambled to his feet before he even realized he was moving and whirled around. He saw a moment of surprise in the guard’s eyes. The gun moved, but Asahi had already lunged forward. He was bigger than the guard—as he stood he realized he was a lot bigger, and his extra height and weight made it easy to push. And Asahi pushed hard.
The man fell backwards and landed heavily, and Asahi didn’t even stop to see where he’d fallen. In a burst of adrenaline, he stumbled forward and down the hallway, into the light of the fluorescents that were still working. Another deep rumble shook the floor. It felt like an earthquake, nearly taking Asahi’s feet out from under him.
He reached the hole in the floor and slid down, first sitting on the edge and then jumping down, his hands holding him up above the rubble on the floor below. He dropped and the debris was sharp under his bare feet.
The lights in the hall flickered, and it was empty. The guards were nowhere to be seen. Asahi didn’t know which way was out. He did know that the stairs they’d seen probably went down, and if he was going to get to Nishinoya he’d need to find them.
He took off down the hall, footsteps splashing lightly. Another rumble sent tiny ripples across the water on the floor. Distantly, Asahi could hear some kind of alarm ringing, but it sounded like it was many floors away. He didn’t know how high up they were, or how deep if it was underground.
The stairwell only went up from this floor, so Asahi knew they couldn’t have taken Nishinoya down. If they’d taken him at all. Maybe he’d escaped from them. Maybe he was looking for Asahi.
Asahi hoped desperately that the rumbling wasn’t Nishinoya. If he was having some sort of meltdown the guards wouldn’t be able to calm him down. Not that Asahi could, either, but at least he knew that Asahi wasn’t trying to hurt him.
No, Asahi seemed to prefer abandoning him when the going got tough.
Up the stairs and there was no one there. Asahi was out of breath but he barely noticed, scanning the hall for the barest moment before dashing up the next flight. The ceiling cave-in had sent more rubble scattering on this side, but there was no sign of Nishinoya or anyone who could have been following them.
The alarm was getting closer and it echoed down the stairwell. Asahi’s vision was focused to a point. Find Nishinoya, see him, grab him, save him, get them both out.
This single-minded focus was probably why he didn’t see the tall figure at the top of the stairs, crashing into him just as he reached the landing.
Asahi stumbled and fell, catching himself on his hands and knees. In an instant his head whipped up and locked on the person responsible, who had also fallen in the collision. It was another young man, blond, with glasses that were too small for his face.
The man regarded him with surprise that morphed quickly into a dead stare as he stood. Asahi got to his feet at the same time and glanced around the hall. No sign of Nishinoya. The alarm was loud here.
“Where is he?” the man asked sharply. Asahi assessed the threat quickly. The man was wearing a hoodie and sweatpants.
“I don’t know,” Asahi breathed, almost inaudible over the piercing ring. He didn’t know why he was answering. He didn’t know who this was.
“Excellent,” the man said. “Perfect. I guess he’s not down there, then.” He rubbed at the bridge of his nose, making his glasses ride up. “Christ. You need to calm down. You’re making me anxious.”
Asahi needed to find Nishinoya, and talking wasn’t going to do that. He looked around. The hall continued in three directions away from the stairs, like a T. It all looked exactly the same, just as white and clean and infuriatingly empty.
“You must be his friend,” the blond man said. Asahi’s ears perked and he watched the man cautiously. “Unless you’re security and it’s Casual Friday.” He sighed sharply. “I’m wasting time. I’m Tsukishima Kei. Don’t know if you’ve heard about me. I’m looking for Nishinoya. I assume you’re doing the same. Let’s get moving.”
The man’s voice was curt and commanding, and Asahi nodded absently. He felt his breath calm slowly, and the incredible, gripping fear that had been driving him melted down his skin and into the floor. Tsukishima Kei. Tsukki. The empath.
It was like a door opening in his mind, light pouring down from above and illuminating all of the shadowed thoughts he’d never been able to fully grasp. It was so much easier to think like this. Asahi wondered how long it had been since he’d truly been without anxiety. Probably never.
“They separated us and I don’t know where they took him,” he said. Tsukishima nodded. “I checked the hall we were in but he wasn’t there.” The events were coming easily to him, untinged by guilt or fear. “Either they took him up or there’s some secret passage I don’t know about.”
Tsukishima pursed his lips. “Wonderful.” He closed his eyes. “If he gets worked up I can usually figure out where he is.” His eyes snapped back open after only a moment and shot down the hall. “Got him. Hopefully.”
“Is he…” Asahi started, swallowing. “Is he having a meltdown? Is that rumbling him?”
Tsukishima shook his head, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “I think that might be the parts of the building Tanaka broke.”
Sugawara’s heart was pounding in his ears as he ran, Tanaka close behind. The doors on either side of the hallway looked the same, sterile white and bleached blue by the fluorescent lights.
“It’s not going to have his name on it,” Tanaka said.
“I know that,” Sugawara shot back. “Have you ever been there?”
“No.” Tanaka sounded out of breath and Sugawara could see that he was flagging. “I know I heard once--” he paused for air “--that he was in a special wing that blocked his telepathy.”
Sugawara fought the competing urgency and helplessness within him. They were approaching the end of this hallway, and down the next he knew it was just going to be more rooms that looked the same. He remembered where Daichi’s was, and Tanaka knew where the others had been kept when they weren’t being used by the facility.
Without access to floor plans the sporadic placement of living quarters and testing chambers made little sense. Some rooms had been vacant, occupied once by subjects who were, for whatever reason, no longer there. Sugawara had a feeling he knew what some of those reasons were.
As they approached the thick security doors separating the hall they were in from the perpendicular access hallway, Tanaka made a small noise. The doors crunched and imploded, shooting into the wall behind them with so much speed they nestled into it, stuck in place.
“Sorry, I’m not thinking,” Tanaka said.
“Daddy?”
Sugawara’s eyes snapped to the stairwell and he stumbled to a stop. There was the small tapping of shoes on the steps, and then two small legs with starry white leggings and a hot pink skirt appeared.
Yachi froze a few steps from the bottom, clutching the railing and breathing shakily. Her eyes were glassy and there were streams of tears shining on her cheeks.
“Yacchan,” Sugawara breathed. She was frozen in place, eyes darting between Sugawara and Tanaka. “Are you okay?”
He had only seen her in passing, usually somewhere around Ushijima or running down the hall like she owned the place. She shook her head almost imperceptibly and was overtaken by a sudden shiver.
“It’s okay,” Sugawara said, aware that he probably didn’t look his most trustworthy, sweaty and distracted.
Yachi didn’t move, tears welling up in her eyes. “You’re bad,” she said quietly. Her voice broke a little.
Tanaka glanced at the door he’d embedded in the wall. Sugawara held his hand out. “We’re not bad. I promise. Are you scared?”
Yachi sniffled and nodded. “Daddy said you were bad.”
“We aren’t. We’re trying to help. Tobio-kun is in danger and we need to find him.” Sugawara’s voice was steady.
Yachi’s eyes widened. “Why?”
“He can’t stay here right now,” Tanaka said, looking at Sugawara covertly. “There are people who need him on the outside.”
“Outside?” Yachi echoed. She was shaking. Sugawara’s chest twisted and he stepped toward her carefully.
“You’re really scared, aren’t you?” he asked softly. Yachi gripped the railing tighter as he approached, nodding rapidly again. “I’m sorry. What’s making you so scared?”
Yachi’s face screwed up and she took a deep breath, searching Sugawara’s face. Then, without warning, the floodgates opened.
“Daddy told me to go with some of the big muscly people but then there was a big boom and they ran away and I’m not fast enough to go after them because they’re grown ups and I’m just a kid and that’s not fair,” she said in one breath, punctuating it with a hiccup. She started crying in earnest. “And now I don’t know where Daddy is or where I’m supposed to go or what to do or anything!”
“That’s terrible,” Sugawara said. He held his hand out again and Yachi took it, wiping at her nose with her other hand. “Do you want to come with us and find Tobio-kun?”
“Suga,” Tanaka said, half warning and half nervous impatience. “We don’t have…”
“Do you know where Tobio-kun’s room is?” Yachi asked, the change of topic distracting her from her own tears for a moment.
“Do you?” Sugawara asked. Yachi nodded and followed him down from the stairs, gripping his hand like she was trying to crush it. Sugawara gave a pointed look to Tanaka.
“I go there all the time because Daddy wants us to play together and he reads books really good,” Yachi said, still a bit watery.
“Okay, wonderful,” Sugawara said. He was jumpy with adrenaline and anticipation and it was taking the majority of his nursing patience not to just grab Yachi and pull her along. “We have to go pretty fast, so why don’t you…” he glanced at Tanaka, gave him a once-over, and saw that he was still a little out of breath, “...hop on my back.”
Yachi hesitated as Sugawara crouched down, but then she climbed onto his back. “Which way?” he asked, adjusting to make sure she was secure. She pointed with a small hand.
“We’re really close,” she said. She wrapped her arms around Sugawara’s neck and he nodded to Tanaka, and they took off again.
They made their way down the hall, slower now with the addition of Yachi and Tanaka’s obvious physical infirmity.
“This is too lucky,” Tanaka said under his breath. Sugawara knew what he meant. They had encountered almost no resistance getting here, to the point that meeting Yachi seemed almost too convenient. Sugawara didn’t want to entertain the idea that a kid as young as she was could be involved with some kind of threat, but he had to.
“Down there,” Yachi said, pointing to a spot on the wall. It was flush with the rest of the wall, cut out about the size of a door, and it had a fingerprint lock on a panel beside it.
“Tanaka, can you…” Sugawara started, but Yachi tugged on his shirt.
“Down,” she said, and he let her slide to the floor. She had to reach up to put her hand on the scanner, but after a moment it made a small clicking noise and the cutout in the wall moved.
“Sometimes Daddy’s busy so I go here by myself to play,” she said as the doorway depressed into the wall and slid to the side, revealing a short staircase going down. “The first time I thought it was scary.”
“Thank god for Daddy,” Tanaka muttered.
Yachi tapped down the steps and went to the large, cushioned door at the bottom. Sugawara and Tanaka followed tentatively. The door behind them made a puffing noise and then started to close. Tanaka jumped.
“Fucking knew it,” he hissed, whirling around. Yachi flinched at the profanity.
“Wait,” Sugawara warned, putting a hand on Tanaka’s shoulder. “If you want to get back out it’ll take you half a second. Don’t get jumpy on me.”
Tanaka made a grim face and shot a sharp glance back at the door. Yachi, with some effort, pulled open the second door.
Inside was a short hallway, lit less harshly than the one from which they’d come. The walls were vaguely peach-colored, and with the door closed behind them it was eerily quiet.
A couple of doors lined the sides of the hall. Yachi seemed to know where she was going, because she took off down the hall and started peeking in what appeared to be windows along the walls.
“He might be sleeping,” she said. “Maybe, I don’t know.”
“The moment we get him we’re out,” Tanaka said, voice low. “We don’t have time to spend in here.”
“Tobio-kun!” Yachi called. Sugawara flinched.
“I know,” he said. “In and out.”
They followed Yachi down the hall. Sugawara looked through one of the windows as they passed. There was a sort of play room inside, with low bookshelves and a child-sized table, along with boxes of games and colorful rugs. In the environment it looked like the waiting room of a children’s hospital, detached and sterile.
Then, out of a far room, Yachi appeared with Tobio close behind, wearing wrinkled pajamas. He rubbed at his eye and squinted in the light.
There was a moment of quiet, where Tobio looked at Sugawara and Sugawara looked back at him, and then he nodded.
“I thought so,” he said. Sugawara blinked and looked over at Tanaka.
“Thought what?” Sugawara asked before he could stop himself. Tanaka narrowed his eyes and looked back toward the door anxiously.
“That something was up. I didn’t think it was…I mean, not that serious, I guess,” Tobio said. “Ukai-sensei tried not to think about it when he was here.”
A telepath, Sugawara remembered. And not just like Oikawa—he wasn’t just hearing thoughts. He was digging into Sugawara’s memories with ease, pulling out the necessary information. Sugawara had wondered what he’d say to convince Tobio to leave with them, but he realized with a start that he didn’t need to say anything. All of the reasons, all of the history behind those reasons, were accessible immediately.
“We need to go,” Tanaka said. “You get it, right? We don’t need to explain what’s happening.”
Tobio nodded. “I get it. I just…” he paused, biting the inside of his cheek.
“Shit!” Tanaka suddenly shouted, whirling around. Yachi flinched. “People out there.”
Sugawara’s stomach lurched. “Is there another way out?” he asked. Tobio shrugged, a bit regretfully.
“I don’t think so. I can make them leave, though.”
“And if that doesn’t work, we’re getting out the hard way,” Tanaka said. “If we go now they might not have time to react.”
“Or this was a trap,” Sugawara said quietly. Tanaka shot him a sharp look.
“Or they just knew we’d come for Tobio. Or they’re here to escort us out. Or literally anything, now let’s go.”
Sugawara knelt and Yachi climbed onto his back. “Tobio-kun,” he said. “You’re going to have to run fast. Stay right with me.”
Yachi gripped Sugawara’s collar so tightly her knuckles were white. Tobio followed, and they crept toward the door.
“Okay, here,” Tanaka said, eyes glued to a spot somewhere behind the door. “I break this down, I move them back, you just pick a direction and go.” He paused, eyebrows furrowing slightly, and his hand rose to his left shoulder. He worked it around in a circle and then shook his head, refocusing. “Got it?”
“I’ve never been outside,” Tobio said suddenly, voice a bit tight.
“It’ll be okay,” Sugawara soothed absently.
“No, I mean…this place keeps my…I don’t know what happens if I leave.”
“Ready?” Tanaka asked.
Sugawara’s heart wasn’t racing, but each beat seemed to shake his entire body. “Ready.”
I think something bad is going to happen, Sugawara heard, somewhere deep in his head.
Tobio’s voice. Sugawara glanced down at him, eyes wide.
To me.
“Now!” Tanaka yelled, and the door caved in with a metallic crunch.
“Left,” Oikawa said, voice still and cool, as though they weren’t running. Daichi followed him as they turned.
Daichi had an idea of the layout of this floor, even though he’d spent most of his time bouncing between his room and the testing chambers deeper below the bay. Adrenaline was pounding in his ears, not necessarily for his own safety, but for the others and their own missions he couldn’t see.
“We have three targets,” Oikawa had said in Yamaguchi’s apartment. “Tobio, Iwa-chan, and Nishinoya. And his boy-toy, I guess. I imagine they’re a package deal.”
“So three groups,” Daichi had suggested. Tsukishima had offered to go find Nishinoya by himself, for obvious reasons. They’d split themselves up, and though Daichi wanted nothing more than to be with Sugawara, he hadn’t argued when offered the assignment to go with Oikawa instead. Shimizu would be somewhere close by, finding and tailing Ushijima.
There were rumbles down below, likely courtesy of Tanaka, and Daichi wondered desperately if the others were having trouble getting to their destinations. Besides a bit of resistance at the gate, they’d had an alarmingly smooth entry into the facility.
“It’s the second to last small testing chamber, right?” Daichi confirmed with Oikawa, glancing over.
He blinked in surprise and stumbled. He stopped in the hallway and whirled around. Empty.
“Oh no no no,” he murmured. He didn’t call for Oikawa, because it would be too loud, but also because he was getting the sinking feeling that he hadn’t gotten lost.
Daichi knew that he’d gone the right way, and he hadn’t looked away for long enough for Oikawa to have drifted away or stopped somewhere behind him. Daichi scanned the doors along the sides of the hallway from which he’d come, heart pounding.
“Oikawa,” he said once, not above his regular speaking voice. “I swear to god.”
Footsteps behind him, in the direction he’d been going, and in front of him, following the path he’d run. Was there even anything in him that was surprised?
Two groups of security came into view, armed and black-clad, and Daichi had the fleeting thought that at least it had been him and not one of the others. That was immediately followed, as the guards approached and barked at him to kneel, with the sickly notion that maybe it wasn’t just him. They’d all been so quick to trust Oikawa, and now he couldn’t really remember why. Because they were desperate? Because they’d known him?
Daichi was hoisted up and his hands were zip-tied. He didn’t struggle. He knew nothing would come of it, not when they had guns and he didn’t have powers that affected anyone but himself. Sure, he wouldn’t die if they shot him, but he wasn’t invincible and a couple of well-placed bullets would still keep him down until his body spit them back out.
It would hurt too, but he was less concerned about that.
They were talking to him, but he wasn’t listening very closely. His mind was racing. Were the others safe? Or as safe as they could be, given the circumstances? Had this all been a trap, or was it only him, since he was with Oikawa? He’d been the one to bring up splitting into groups, but how could he be sure Oikawa hadn’t planted the idea?
It was all over in just a few moments, from entering the facility to running to being captured. Almost hilariously fast, but Daichi wasn’t laughing. It was a shock, that they had spent so long planning and had gotten nothing to show for it, at least on his part.
What was most surprising, though, was that when they opened a door and shoved Daichi inside, he came face to face with Iwaizumi Hajime.
“Seems like you guys are more scared of me than I am of you!”
It turned out that Nishinoya hadn’t gotten far.
Asahi and Tsukishima came up behind him as they turned a corner. Whatever Tsukishima had done to Asahi’s head to calm him down, it was fading as Tsukishima’s concentration shifted.
Nishinoya was bracing himself, giving a particularly fiery glare to a small troupe of security. Asahi wondered briefly at how many people with guns there seemed to be. Were there always this many, in what, as far as he knew, was ostensibly a scientific facility? He didn’t have time to dwell on it, but something about it bothered him.
Nishinoya was a more pressing concern at the moment. He seemed to sense them coming behind him, or maybe he heard their footsteps, because he glanced back only long enough to register who had joined him.
“Karasu-san,” he breathed, an edge of wild aggression still coloring his voice. “Tsukki.”
There was something electric in the air, and it prickled Asahi’s arms. Along with it a breeze was flowing down the hallway. That wasn’t particularly good. Electricity…fear? And wind—anger.
“On your knees, hands up,” one of the security was saying. Asahi could laugh, if the anxious edge weren’t returning to him. Did they think that was actually going to work? Or were they just waiting for a chance to shoot? After being so certain that he was about to be shot earlier, some of Asahi’s tension at seeing the guns had faded. It probably wasn’t healthy, to be losing fear of a semi-automatic rifle, when he feared almost everything else.
“Nishinoya,” Tsukishima said, voice a bit strange. Nishinoya’s hands were shaking. “We should go.”
“Little help, maybe?” Nishinoya asked, voice tense. The crackling in the air grew. The hairs on the back of Asahi’s neck stood on end. He was having trouble controlling himself.
“Down!” the guard yelled.
Tsukishima seemed to have a moment of inner conflict before he sighed sharply through his nose. “Thunderstorm,” he said. Nishinoya’s entire body tightened.
“Yeah,” he said. Then, to Asahi, “Get down right now.”
Asahi didn’t understand for a moment, but then Tsukishima looked at him sharply and he swallowed.
A lot of things happened at once.
“Last chance, down!” the guard yelled.
Tsukishima’s eyes widened with a start, sharp and intense. The wind picked up. Asahi’s fingers sparked on each other.
Nishinoya’s body started to glow, freckles shining blue and yellow and bright white, and his clothes began to lift around him as he rose up onto his toes.
Asahi dropped and the guards were yelling and then Nishinoya’s arms rose beside him, paused, and rushed forward like he was about to clap.
The wind hit Asahi and he stumbled, catching himself on his hands. It was trying to push him, but not in the wild way it had when he’d first seen Nishinoya use this power, on a street what seemed like a thousand years ago. It was strong, one direction, unrelenting.
The air was sharp and tasted metallic, smelled like ozone. There was a gunshot, maybe, but at the same moment the wind hit the security and they were thrown back. Asahi watched, through the hair that whipped around his face, as one of them pulled something large and pointed off of their hip and slammed it into the ground. It broke the linoleum easily and the guards stopped flipping back, though they were still held taught by the wind. They were still trying to aim.
Then, the smell of earth and rain and something pointy that hurt Asahi’s nose and eyes, and a blinding bolt of electricity leaped from Nishinoya’s chest toward the security. Someone yelled, and then they ragdolled and the wind stopped almost more suddenly than it had begun, Asahi losing his balance where he had been braced against it.
Nishinoya dropped to the ground heavily and stumbled a bit, catching himself. His hands went to his head and he turned, looking a bit worse for wear.
“It’s been a while,” he said. Tsukishima’s mouth quirked almost imperceptibly.
“Reunion later,” Asahi said. Nishinoya glanced back at the security.
“They’re just stunned,” he said. “Just tased ‘em, basically. They’ll be up in a second.”
“All the more reason,” Asahi said. Tsukishima nodded.
“Come on,” he said, edging toward the way he and Asahi had come. Nishinoya paused.
“I’m going downstairs,” he said firmly.
“We have one chance, and it’s now,” Tsukishima said. “The others are heading straight back out.”
“Everyone’s here?” Nishinoya asked. Then he shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. I’m getting Shouyou.”
Tsukishima’s jaw set. “It’s not smart.”
“Then I’m stupid,” Nishinoya countered.
“Not much of a rescue mission if I don’t rescue you,” Tsukishima said, annoyance edging into his voice.
“Not much of a rescue mission if I don’t rescue Shouyou,” Nishinoya said. “That’s the only reason I’m here.”
Tsukishima seemed like he was about to snap something, but he bit it off. “I have to stay with you,” he said. “High-stress. Don’t want an explosion.”
“You don’t have to do anything,” Nishinoya said. “It’d be nice, but if you’re so dead-set on getting out, tough.”
Tsukishima’s jaw worked underneath the skin. Asahi didn’t know what he wanted. Or, rather, he did, and he didn’t like it. His entire body was itching to follow Tsukishima out, to safety. He wanted to pull Nishinoya along behind him. The fire in Nishinoya’s eyes, though…it made his stomach hurt.
“They’re going to wake up,” Asahi said, eyes darting between them and the prone security. “Decision.”
“Are you coming with me?” Nishinoya asked sharply. There was something desperate hidden beneath it.
Asahi took a breath, eyes locking on the guards—were they moving?—to Tsukishima, to the long hall next to them, back to Nishinoya. He wanted to leave. He should.
“Yeah,” he said.
Tapping of boots, and Asahi’s heart sank. Tsukishima whirled around. “Five,” he said, a bit darkly.
“Shit,” Asahi breathed.
“No time, we have to go,” Tsukishima said.
Nishinoya’s eyes flashed and he set his jaw. Then he turned his gaze back to Asahi, and underneath the determination and stubbornness, Asahi could see a tiny glimmer of uncertainty. Fear?
“We’ll take care of them,” he said. “Karasu-san.” He took a breath. The tapping was getting louder, almost upon them, just the turn of a hallway away. “Shouyou’s on the bottom floor. Red hair.”
His voice was deeply serious, more so than Asahi thought he’d ever heard him. This wasn’t an order. It was a request, and one that Nishinoya had too much invested in to dance around it. Asahi swallowed, and then the security rounded the corner, and Nishinoya’s eyes lit up suddenly and brightly white.
“Red hair,” Asahi confirmed, having no more than a second to wonder when he’d decided to do anything Nishinoya asked, and then he turned and ran.
The door to Tobio’s chambers flew away from them like a train had hit it. Sugawara didn’t get a chance to see if anyone had been immediately behind it, because in the next instant he was rushing forward, pulling Tobio along behind him. They ran up the stairs, stumbling on the steps, parts of which were now broken entirely off from the force of Tanaka’s push.
Yachi screamed. Tanaka’s voice was on loop in Sugawara’s brain as he desperately tried to focus. Pick a direction. Sugawara had half a second, once they were through the door and in the hallway, to see and make calculations and decide. Pick a direction.
Tanaka was doing the same calculations, it seemed. From Sugawara’s quick glance he could see guns, maybe fifteen people, and what was probably the biggest space they were going to get to their left. He didn’t have time to consider traps, or if they were being funneled. He had to trust Tanaka.
Tanaka seemed to be heavily out of breath, but he grunted and the ground started to split. Sugawara held onto Tobio’s wrist and started to the left, unable to think clearly through the adrenaline. There were guards there, dressed in black, and Sugawara felt sick to his stomach. Trust Tanaka.
Then the floor cracked in half down the middle, rising suddenly and throwing the armed men to the sides. Down the center was the subflooring, a path for Sugawara, though he knew it would only be a moment before the security regained their bearings. The building was shifting and snapping and Sugawara could hear footsteps behind him. He had to assume it was Tanaka, that they had been given a temporary clear path.
Tobio was stumbling, and Sugawara didn’t want to trip him or jerk his arm, but they had to keep moving. Yachi was still holding on, so that was good.
They passed through the gap Tanaka had made for them, and then there was an even larger crunch. Sugawara chanced a look back and saw Tanaka trip over his own feet as the floor and ceiling behind him met, separating them at least for a moment from their assailants.
Tanaka stayed on the ground, on his hands and knees, gasping for air. He looked up at Sugawara and then grabbed at his own arm, gripping and massaging his shoulder. “I’m good,” he said breathlessly.
“Tobio-kun?”
Yachi’s voice was small and shaky. Sugawara felt a weight against his side and he glanced down to see Tobio’s head resting against him, Tobio’s eyes down. His entire body was quivering a bit. His arm hung limply in Sugawara’s grip.
“Tobio?” Sugawara echoed. “We have to keep running.” He tried to keep the tension out of his voice but wasn’t sure if he succeeded.
Tanaka was getting to his feet. There was noise coming from somewhere, and it could have been shouts or the building losing its structural integrity. Tobio swayed a bit when Sugawara crouched down to look at him.
I think something bad might happen.
Tobio’s eyes were entirely black, the pupil blown impossibly wide, and he seemed to be staring at something a million miles away.
“Tobio,” Sugawara said again, unable to keep the edge away. Tanaka finally made it to them.
“We have to keep going,” he hissed.
Tobio’s head moved around slightly, like he was looking at something, following it with his vision, but only just slightly. His arms curled in and he was breathing shallowly.
“What’s wrong with him?” Yachi asked, on the verge of panic.
“I don’t know,” Sugawara said. Tanaka worked his shoulder around in a circle, grimacing.
Sugawara had an idea, actually, and it wasn’t one he wanted to think about. The hall where Tobio lived had had some kind of seal, something that kept his powers contained, and now that he was out of it there was no telling what kind of over-stimulation his mind was getting. Sugawara didn’t know the bounds of Tobio’s telepathy. He knew it was stronger than Oikawa’s. That it functioned differently.
“Tobio-kun, look at me,” Sugawara commanded, trying to cut through whatever noise was happening in Tobio’s head. He was flying completely blind.
Tobio’s eyes drifted over, coming close enough to Sugawara’s that he might have heard.
“What are you hearing right now?” Sugawara asked, swallowing back urgency, the voice in his mind telling him to move.
Tobio face was slowly draining of color. He wasn’t breathing deeply enough. He might pass out. He looked down.
“All of everything,” he said, so faint of a whisper Sugawara barely caught it.
Sugawara’s heart sank. “Yacchan, can you run?” he asked, voice hollow. She slid down off of his back and, eyes still locked on Tobio, nodded.
There was a sudden boom, impossibly loud. Sugawara’s head snapped up and he pulled the kids in toward him. Tanaka was also looking pale, he saw.
A pause, and then there was another deafening sound and the wall Tanaka had made buckled and burst toward them. It was so fast Sugawara didn’t even see the shrapnel and debris until it was inches from them, the weight and matter of what looked like the entire hallway suspended in the air in front of them. Yachi screamed.
Tanaka’s eyes were wide and his hands were shaking. Sugawara didn’t even have enough time to be surprised, staring at a length of rebar pointed at the center of his face.
“Almost didn’t get that,” Tanaka said, voice ghostly.
It was over in half a second, and then Sugawara’s brain caught up to the fact that they need to move immediately, blind urgency supplanting shock. Tanaka was looking increasingly weary. Tobio was catatonic. Sugawara didn’t even know if he’d be able to hold onto his back. Yachi was sobbing.
Another thud, muffled as Sugawara’s ears processed the explosion, and among the choking dust and newly glowing flame he saw the end of a wooden plank land on the ground. Footsteps across the gap. They were coming.
Tanaka dropped the debris and it hit the ground all at once. Maybe it would be enough to slow them. Sugawara looked at Tobio and then, in a split second decision, caught him at the waist with his shoulder and hoisted him up.
“Pieces of fucking shit,” Tanaka growled suddenly, like he’d remembered where he was all at once. “There are kids here!”
He made a motion with his hands and through the piles of metal and concrete and dust Sugawara heard shouts and saw two rifles fly toward them. Tanaka caught them and threw one to Sugawara. His eyes were sharper than Sugawara had ever seen them, despite his growing physical weakness. He was angrier than Sugawara knew he could be.
“Go!” he yelled.
Sugawara didn’t think. He took off as fast as he could with Tobio on his shoulder, pulling Yachi along and trying to make sure she didn’t trip. But there was only so much he could think about at once.
They were coming up on a set of doors, hopefully to a stairwell. Sugawara’s chest tightened.
But he’d never been that lucky. Not once in his life had he ever been that lucky. The doors opened from the other side.
Tanaka swore and they stopped, tripping with their own momentum. They were in a blank section of hallway, and there were now guns behind and before them.
“I can’t just break the whole building,” Tanaka said frantically. “We’re under the bay.” He was losing the battle with desperation.
“Just put distance, anything!” Sugawara yelled. He let go of Yachi and let the gun Tanaka had given him drop down from under his arm to his hand. A terrible sense of hopelessness had been knocking on his door and he couldn’t let it in yet, but he knew it was there. He lowered Tobio to the ground and he sat there.
Why had they thought this was going to work? This was Ushijima, and he knew they were coming. He had to. He’d been tracking them.
Sugawara hadn’t seen everything of the one future where they made it out, just bits and pieces. He hadn’t seen enough. The vision had stopped with the image of Tanaka on the ground and Sugawara with cold metal in his hands.
Tanaka gripped his left shoulder and set his jaw, and then he pushed the rest of the hallway away.
Pipes snapped and the lights flickered and the ones immediately over them cut out with thin pops. The building groaned, there were people yelling, and the floor split in a circle around them, pushing them up and the rest of the hallway out. It was hard to keep balance, like a strong earthquake, and it brought Sugawara to his knees, pulling Yachi down with him and covering her and Tobio’s heads with his body as bits of the building fell around them. There was a roar somewhere, that Sugawara desperately hoped wasn’t water. Dust fell with chunks of the ceiling and the chasm opening around them dropped down to the floors below.
Sugawara’s grip tightened on the gun. He’d never fired one before. Yachi shivered violently against him.
Tanaka made a choked noise, stilling. Then he fell. It was almost in slow motion.
Tanaka on the ground, cold metal in Sugawara’s hands. Screaming. Sugawara’s vision had stopped entirely, right after this point.
He didn’t know exactly what that meant. He was probably going to die.