Wind ruffled through Kageyama's dark feathers as he glided low over his forest. The air tasted sweet and clean; the scent of rain lingered. Droplets clung to emerald leaves below, glistening like a tiny thousand stars in the light of the setting sun.

Evenings and mornings were Kageyama's favorite times to fly. They were the most serene, the most peaceful. A quiet half-sleep draped over the forest, and the sky was painted in a thousand brilliant colors as the sun kissed the horizon.

He took a deep breath, savoring the taste of the wind as he tucked his wings in close and dropped into a hypnotic spiral. Iridescence played off his dark feathers as he fell, weightless. Gravity called him down, further and further, in a slow, irresistible pull. He arced toward the earth in a graceful dive, waited for the earth to rise up to meet him before snapping his wings open once more.

Kageyama didn't fly to hunt—not tonight. He flew to feel the wind on his wings and breathe in the crisp air. He flew to forget the oppressive silence that lingered around him always, to forget his empty mountain home. He flew to see the beauty of his pristine forest with his own blue eyes. And tonight, he flew to outrun the worries that dogged him like insistent crows.

How long ago had it been since his last visitor? He never thought he would care. When other dragons had visited, all he'd wanted was for them to leave. He hadn't bothered to hide it—hadn't thought he needed to, and at first it had been a relief when the visits dwindled and then ceased altogether. The peace and quiet that he'd craved before felt overwhelming now. It loomed over him, filled his home, crowded his chest. Dragons were solitary by nature, but even by their standards Kageyama was unsociable. And, he'd managed to drive all of the others away. They'd turned their backs on him.

His chest tightened at the thought, and he wondered bitterly at just how badly he'd screwed up. How long had it been? Years?

Kageyama's gaze wandered over the treeline, landing on something bright. His thoughts scattered. Whatever it was, it was coming closer. Light as bright as the sun itself radiated from it as it dipped and swerved through the sky. Kageyama's wings flared out as he hesitated, frowning. What was it—and what was it doing? The bright thing moved closer, and he finally got a real look at the flaming bird. Real flames licked along the feathers of a bird with long, beautiful plumage. For a moment, he thought in horror and confusion that a large bird was on fire, and he wondered frantically how such a cruel and bizarre thing could even happen. The momentary panic faded as he realized, despite the bird's erratic flight, that the flames did not burn it. They merely danced along the wings and crown, mirroring the fiery color of the feathers themselves. Heat and light radiated from the bird like a beacon, and Kageyama missed a wingbeat as he realized what it really was: a phoenix.

He'd never seen one before. Kageyama had only heard stories about the firebirds from distant lands, but it couldn't be anything else. Squinting at it, he wondered how in the world one had ended up here, in his territory?

Trespassing without permission was a good way to wind up dead or at war, and even if Kageyama tried his best to stay out of territory disputes, it was still unbelievable rude and dangerous to show up unannounced. Kageyama's wings spread wider as he sped forward, intent on giving the bird a piece of his mind. He would have been happy to meet with the phoenix, but it would have been nice if they had at least asked before barging into his home.

Before he could catch up, the bird's erratic flight spiraled out of control. It dove down toward the earth gracelessly. Something was wrong. He craned his neck forward, trying to get a better look. His heart dropped when he noticed feathers receding into soft skin and ginger hair. The wings remained, but they trailed limply as the boy plummeted toward the earth.

Dumbass! Who in the world was so stupid to change forms mid-air? And what was he doing—he wasn't even trying to stop his fall—those pretty wings couldn't be just for show! He ignored the tiny voice that suggested that maybe something was truly, seriously wrong. Instead, Kageyama tucked his wings close to his body and dove toward the ground like a sleek black bullet, tufted tail trailing behind him.

Kageyama caught up to the phoenix in a fraction of a second and reached out to wrap one talon around him, pulling him close to his chest. Kageyama snapped his wings open to catch the wind, and he rose with it. Sparing one look down at the limp boy in his grasp, he drifted back toward the lonely mountain in the center of the forest.

He'd give the idiot bird a piece of his mind when he got there. For now... it looked like the bird was in rougher shape than he'd realized. Kageyama didn't know much about phoenixes, but a few things were painfully obvious. This one was thin. Too thin. His face was flushed, and it was hard to tell, but he was radiating a lot of heat for any kind of human form.

Kageyama's wings slowed as he stepped onto a ledge on the side of the mountain. Trees jutted out from the surrounding stone, gnarled and determined as they defied gravity, accompanied by the soft trickle of nearby water. Soft curtains of moss and ferns colored the mountainside green. Stepping forward, Kageyama parted the moss to pass through the wide entrance of his home. It had been a cave, once. It could hardly be called that, now. The shelves he'd carved into the stone himself were laden with his most prized treasures and curiosities. Old books with titles that shone in gilded lettering. Bejeweled swords and glimmering gems. Soft silks, gold, silver, and a curious leather ball with a crosshatch pattern stitched into its surface.

Ornate rugs spread across the floor of the cavern, and amethyst crystals sparkled along the high ceiling. In the center, a wide stone pillar had been hollowed out into a hearth. The fire that dwindled inside roared to new life in Kageyama's presence, filling the cavern with light and warmth. Furniture scattered across the enormous room. A small table with two chairs. A dresser and an armoire. And next to the small nightstand, a bed of ridiculous proportions sat draped in silk sheets, quilts, and a small mountain of soft blankets. It was large enough for Kageyama even in this form.

Even if Kageyama regretted driving everyone away, he still took some pride in his home. He'd spent years collecting and creating, transforming the stone cave into a warm, welcoming home.

Kageyama glanced around, not sure where to put the phoenix. Frowning, he settled on setting the firebird on his bed, thankful (not for the first time) that he'd had the bedding fireproofed. It was strange—a beautiful crimson garment wrapped artfully around the phoenix's form. It had shifted with him when he changed, something Kageyama had never seen before. He wondered if it was a talent unique to phoenixes, or to this boy in particular. Shifting shape was effortless, a smooth transition for Kageyama, but shifting objects along with him? Impossible. The fact that the bird in his bed could do so even in this sorry state left Kageyama stunned.

He didn't have time to wonder, though. The flames on the phoenix's wings had eerily disappeared, and that couldn't be a good sign. Without the shifting light, the bird's feathers seemed darker, colder. Kageyama's tail twitched, and with a resigned sigh he shifted to a more accommodating, human-like form.

His horns shrank to nestle among pitch black locks of hair, and inky feathers gave way to smooth, toned skin. His snout receded to a graceful nose. Talons shifted to wide, dexterous hands, and his tail grew slender and shorter, twitching behind him. He folded smaller wings against his spine. The feather tips still reached almost to the floor like a dark cloak. Kageyama stepped into a pair of embroidered gray pants before turning his attention back to the stranger on his bed.

Kageyama couldn't decide if he should cover the phoenix in a blanket or not. For that matter, he'd never really cared for any sick person before. Feeling suddenly out of his element, he hesitated, then pulled one of the quilts up over the small form. His fingertips strayed to the wild reddish hair. It was softer than he expected.

He couldn't get distracted, though. He did not want a dead bird in his house. So, Kageyama stalked over to the hearth and threw a few things into the big pot atop the fire that swelled in greeting as he approached. The rich scent of stew filled the room as he slipped past a curtained doorway into the hall beyond, then the storeroom. He grabbed a pitcher of water and a couple glasses, and after some debating settled on three loaves of bread. How much did phoenixes eat, anyway? Making his way back to the main room, he set the cups down on the nightstand and filled them with cold, fresh water. He placed the bread next to them and took a seat on the bed.

"Oi..."

Frowning, he reached up to put a hand to the phoenixes' forehead. It felt hot. Of course it did—he was a firebird, but how hot was too hot? Or not hot enough? And the idiot clearly needed to eat. His cheeks were too sunken, his waist so narrow the dragon feared he might break his delicate charge with even the gentlest touch.

Tail twitching, Kageyama nudged the phoenix's shoulder. "You need to eat and drink," he grumbled, trying to wake him up. "You are NOT dying in my bed, damnit."

The phoenix bolted upright, eyes wide and frantic as he scrambled backward, looking around in alarm. "Who—where?

"Slow down," Kageyama warned, putting a hand on the bird's shoulder to keep him from fleeing, and to try to keep the boy's panic in check. "Just—settle down. You flew onto my land and almost crashed."

He'd meant to calm the phoenix down, but his words seemed to have the opposite effect; the boy shook beneath his touch and shrank away "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to intrude I just, my land it—it's gone and I… I haven't eaten anything in…." he trailed off, eyes shining with the threat of tears.

It's gone? What did that mean? "Hey," Kageyama interrupted. "Breathe." When that did nothing to calm the frantic bird, he tried something else. "I'm Kageyama. Kageyama Tobio. This is my home, in Karasuno Forest."

The redhead looked up at Kageyama, lost.

"And you are…?" Kageyama prompted in a low growl. He was trying to be patient, really. But getting anywhere with the phoenix was becoming a challenge.

"Oh…! Hinata Shouyou…." He looked away, breathing in the air, head tipped to one side. "What is that…? It smells so good. Are you making soup?"

Presumptuous, Kageyama thought, but the phoenix looked so starved that he didn't push it. "Yeah, I'm making stew."

"Oh," the phoenix's expression shifted; his shoulders sank and the light left his eyes as they widened in fear. "You're not going to eat me are you?" he asked, shrinking away from Kageyama.

Irritation flared inside of Kageyama, his tail twitched angrily. He dragged in a sick stranger and this was the thanks he got? "I am not going to eat you, dumbass... I don't know what the hell you've heard about dragons, or what they are like where you're from, but I'm not a goddamn savage. Just—here." He shoved a loaf of bread and the glass of water in the phoenix's hands. "You're safe, got it? I have food and water, and you're not dying on my watch." He'd never been very good at small-talk or social niceties, and could feel Hinata's eyes on him, nervous and watchful. "There will be stew in a few minutes, too."

"I've never met a dragon."

Kageyama looked up in surprise. The phoenix—Hinata—had a mouthful of bread, and looked a little braver. It was a strange thing to say—most territories were ruled over by a dragon, or a pair of dragons. Then again… he'd never met a phoenix. "Well, now you have."

"And this is your home?"

"Yeah."

"…Doesn't it get kind of lonely?"

Heat rose to Kageyama's cheeks at the eerily accurate question. How the hell did this guy know? "What?" he asked gracelessly, a bit of smoke slipping out from between his lips with the words.

"I just—I know I intruded, I know I'm a trespasser, but please don't kick me out! I'll help out somehow! I can clean or cook or whatever you want just—please, let me stay for a little bit! As soon as I can fly I'll leave, okay?"

"I'm not gonna kick you out, so calm down, okay?" He considered the bird's request to help. It was a fair offer. He studied Hinata with cobalt eyes, gauging how serious he might be. Kageyama wasn't a messy person; he kept his home tidy, and all of his treasures had their spot. Still, the idea of having someone around for awhile seemed... nice. Even if the phoenix was an idiot. "You are definitely not well enough to be cooking or cleaning so just rest and eat right now. When you're doing a bit better you can help out if you want, but for now, just focus on recovering."

Hinata relaxed, smiling up at him. Heat rose to Kageyama's face in response, and he looked away quickly, biting into his bread to hide it. Sneaking a glance back at Hinata, Kageyama noted that the flames on his wings were still missing. Despite his wild, fiery hair and flame-colored feathers, he seemed darker, more tired, without the flames. Shadows hung under his wide, warm eyes, and as beautiful as the idiot was, Kageyama had a feeling he was no more than a shadow of his former self. Kageyama's tail tapped on the bed. He frowned as Hinata shivered, curled around his bread as if he was huddled in snow instead of blankets.

"Are you cold?" Kageyama spread one feathered wing around the redhead. Warmth radiated from him like a heater, and he risked a glance up at the phoenix.

Hinata perked up, a bright smile tugging at his lips as he scooted closer, nestling into Kageyama's side and into the warm black feathers tucked around him. "You really are lonely, aren't you?" he asked, resting his head against Kageyama's shoulder.

Kageyama stiffened. "I'm just—trying to keep you warm." It was technically true. But Hinata wasn't wrong, either, and he hated to admit it. "I'm fine. Eat your bread, there will be stew in a minute." His tail curled around Hinata, betraying him. Hinata moved closer, and heat rose to Kageyama's cheeks in response. He was just keeping him warm. That's all.

Hinata smiled up at him, and took a few big bites of the bread—too big. He broke into a coughing fit, doubled over and struggling to breathe.

"Hey—" Kageyama leaning close to make sure the phoenix wasn't actually choking to death. "Slow down, dumbass. The food isn't going anywhere. Here, let me…."

He reached out to try to help, but Hinata jerked away, scrubbing at his eyes with a sleeve as weak coughs wracked his body. "I'm sorry, I'm fine, I'll be fine," Hinata managed, sounding anything but fine as he withdrew, shaking.

"Bullshit," Kageyama gave him a half-hearted glare and pulled him close again, one arm around Hinata with his wing draped around the phoenix like a warm blanket. Hinata had grown worryingly cold in comparison. "Whatever this is—if you are self-conscious or hate me or whatever—worry about that later. You have to stay warm, don't you? I mean, you ARE a firebird, so…." He reddened, trailing off. Admittedly he didn't actually know, but he was assuming Hinata had to stay warm. And Hinata was already chilled to the touch. Frighteningly so. "Stay close. If a dragon's flames go out, it's death. I don't know if it's the same for your kind... but just let me take care of you for now. Got it?"

Pink rose to Hinata's cheeks, and he looked up at Kageyama in surprise. This time, he didn't pull back. If anything, he inched a little closer.

Kageyama breathed a sigh of relief and reached over for the loaf of bread. He tore off a few small bite-sized pieces. Holding one to the Hinata's lips, he reminded the redhead, "slowly, this time."

Hinata took the bite gingerly, his eyes trained on Kageyama. His eyes were different than any Kageyama had seen before. The color shifted from molten gold to deep ambers and warm, soft brown. Soft light glowed within his irises. The light had nearly disappeared when he'd pulled away before. But now—that light grew to a mesmerizing luminescence.

Kageyama reached down for another piece of bread, pressed it gently to the firebird's lips. After Hinata finished that one, he hummed thoughtfully.

"You know," he murmured, "even though you make scary expressions sometimes… you're really kind."

Kageyama didn't know if that was supposed to be a compliment or an insult. He gave the bird a half-hearted glare, holding up another piece of bread. "I do not make scary expressions."

"You're doing it right now!"

"Oi. Focus more on eating and less on insulting me, unless you actually want to die."

"Kageyama?"

"Hm?" Kageyama ripped what was left of the loaf into a few more small bites.

"…Thanks." The smile Hinata offered was as bright as sunshine. Kageyama felt heat rising to his cheeks, and knew he was in trouble. Deep trouble. His heart fluttered in agreement.

"Yeah." The word came out stilted and awkward, and Kageyama looked away, trying to hide the color he was afraid might have risen to his cheeks. Hinata let out a soft, musical laugh. He accepted another bite of bread and tilted his head, eyes wide with growing interest as he watched Kageyama.

"So… you live alone?"

It wasn't really a question, but Kageyama nodded anyway, offering another bite.

Finishing that one, too, Hinata added, "aren't there other dragons? Sorry—I don't mean that in a mean way, you just seemed kind of sad earlier. I'm sure there are other nice dragons out there, right? Unless—unless dragons don't get along?"

Kageyama's heart sank a little, and he came back to cold, hard reality. He couldn't believe his loneliness was so obvious. He must seem pathetic.

"It's... fine," he muttered, busying himself with offering Hinata another piece of bread. "Dragons are pretty solitary except for their mate. Most like their space. Some will even go to war for it." His tail twitching against Hinata's waist. "And I'm... not good with others. It's fine, it doesn't matter."

Kageyama's breath caught as Hinata moved closer. The firebird was just a mere inch away, fiery eyes filling Kageyama's vision. For a minute, he thought maybe Hinata would kiss him, but he seemed more intent in studying him. Before he could act, though, Hinata pulled away. He'd probably seen something he didn't like. Kageyama couldn't blame him.

Standing, he draped one of the large quilts around Hinata's shoulders to keep him warm. "The stew's probably ready." He turned away, desperate for an excuse not to face Hinata. Walking over to the hearth, he pulled down two bowls with spoons from a nearby shelf and spooning a generous portion of stew into each bowl. Kageyama ripped one of the other loafs of bread in half, sticking one in each bowl. Setting his own bowl on the nightstand, he sat back down on the bed next to Hinata. Reluctantly, he wrapped a wing around him once more. He couldn't let the firebird freeze to death. Even if it was uncomfortable for Hinata, Kageyama was still determined to keep him alive. Hinata could hate him later. At least he would be alive.

Kageyama avoided looking at Hinata and offered the bowl to him awkwardly.

"Do you need help?" He wasn't sure if Hinata was really strong enough to manage eating it on his own. Or if he could be trusted not to choke to death from the attempt.

"It's not fine."

"What?" Kageyama glowered at the phoenix, not sure what Hinata was talking about—probably insulting the stew he hadn't even tried yet.

"Don't just say it's fine and doesn't matter!"

Oh. That. "It doesn't." Since Hinata was making no move to eat his stew, Kageyama sighed and took the spoon. "Open up."

Hinata took the bite, then leveled what was probably supposed to be a glare at Kageyama. It was more of a pout. He picked up the bowl of stew and set it on the nightstand in a show of defiance. "Don't be stupid! It does matter! And—I'm here now, I'll be your friend, so—" He reddened to an impressive shade and threw his arms around Kageyama, hugging him fiercely. Kageyama froze, the empty spoon still held up in shock. "so stop—stop making that face like your heart has broken into a thousand pieces. Please."

Kageyama's eyes widened. He could feel the boy's weight against him, and Hinata's hair tickled his jaw. For someone who looked like he might blow away with the next wind, Hinata hugged him like a vice. After a shocked second, Kageyama relaxed and hugged the redhead back. It felt... nice. Sudden, pleasant heat radiated from the phoenix. And even if Hinata's words had been full of fight, Kageyama hadn't missed the meaning behind them. A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. "I'm glad you're here, even if you're an idiot," he mumbled.

He wrapped a wing around Hinata, half to steady him and half for warmth. His tail curled around the phoenix, and it struck him for the first time how much smaller Hinata was. It had little to do with his malnourished state. The firebird's seemed so delicate compared to Kageyama's. His wings, which were more than big enough to support him in the air had to be at least a few feet shorter than Kageyama's. With Hinata in his arms like this, the top of Hinata's head rested just beneath Kageyama's chin. He reached up, sifting his fingers through the firebird's hair. Despite being so unruly, it was surprisingly soft. It earned Kageyama a questioning look, but he ignored it. "You should try to eat some more."

"Hmm…." Hinata turned into his hand, eyes closing as he leaned into the touch. Kageyama sifted his fingers through the fiery locks a couple more times. And even if he tried, he couldn't stop himself from smiling. Hinata was starving though, and needed to eat. Reluctantly, he reached over for the abandoned bowl of stew.

"Here, " spooning up some stew, he brought it to Hinata's lips.

Hinata accepted the bite, savoring it. "It's good."

Kageyama straightened with pride. He gave the bird another spoonful and reminded him, "I told you I wasn't a savage. I've been cooking since I was young, so it better be good." Hinata's grin faded. Kageyama regretted his words immediately. He spooned up some more stew, offering it bite by bite to his small charge. Hinata didn't need to hear about how his parents had gone on frequent, long absences. Or how those absences had become permanent. He didn't want the bird's pity. And even if Kageyama had spent a lot of his childhood alone, it didn't matter. "The point is, I wasn't about to starve, so I learned how to cook. And practice makes perfect."

Kageyama's stiffened as he felt fingers brush through his hair.

Hinata looked up at him with glowing eyes, expression unreadable. He mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like 'soft…' before speaking up. "Mine… wasn't the best, either," he murmured. Kageyama frowned, trying to figure out what he meant. "Er, my childhood. I had a hard time controlling my flames, and I… I burned down my homeland after my parents were hunted down. I didn't mean to, I was just scared, and my dad he… he didn't—" Hinata's voice faltered; his hands slid down, fingers tangled in the feathers at the base of Kageyama's wings. "I don't know if my mom escaped—and I got separated from my little sister in the fire. I searched and searched—b-but…." Hinata's shoulders shook, and he choked on the words. He looked up at Kageyama, lost. Tears clung to his eyelashes. Kageyama's throat tightened at the sight. "Anyway—I just, I was gonna say that I learned a few recipes from my mom, so if you want, I can try to cook you something in return?"

Kageyama sat stunned for a moment, forgetting how to speak. Was that what drove Hinata to the forest in his dying moments? 'I'm sorry' was horribly inadequate. There were no words that would ever be enough to answer something so heartbreaking. Pushing the empty bowl aside, he hugged Hinata him tightly.

"Kageyama?"

He didn't let go, didn't have answers for the little firebird. The most he could offer was "Your sister is out there. You'll find her."

Those words opened the floodgates. A broken sob escaped Hinata; tears poured down his cheeks. He squeezed Kageyama back, burying his face in his chest with a weak nod. Kageyama soothed his hands over fiery hair and held him close, wings wrapping all the way around the tiny phoenix. Choked sobs shook Hinata from head to toe, and he clung to Kageyama, hard.

Kageyama had never been afraid of fire. It was an old friend—it didn't scare him. Sure, they had been hard to control as a young dragon and even now he couldn't hold back a slip of smoke or a rogue flame if he was angry or excited or embarrassed. But Hinata's fire had taken the most precious pieces of his life and stripped them away. It was too cruel. His arms tightened around the redhead. "Hey," he soothed, keeping Hinata close. "It's gonna be okay." He hoped it wasn't an empty promise. Before he could stop himself, he added, "just focus on getting your strength back. We'll find your sister. We will."

Kageyama wasn't sure when he and Hinata had become any kind of 'we', and he knew exactly the gravity that statement carried, but he meant every word.

(…)

Author's Note:I have been working on some art that goes with this story, as well! Some of it is posted on my tumblr—I'm rynthae on there as well! Check back periodically, because new art will be added as the story continues, too.