CHAPTER ONE

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Left target, top right bicep. Deep breath in: Kageyama's body turned sharply as his fingers released a throwing knife. With insane speed and accuracy, the small projectile sailed end-over-end through the air before embedding itself hilt-deep in the soft fiber of the human-shaped wooden target to his far left.

He sighed and relaxed out of his throwing position, studying his work calculatingly. It was a good shot, but by no means perfect. He knew a guy who had hit the broadside of a fleeing Witch twenty feet away in a dense forest on horseback. Of course, the man was head of the Gold Unit and Kageyama's own superior officer, but that meant nothing to him. If someone else could make a shot that outrageous, he could, too.

Crossing the few feet to reach the target, Kageyama yanked the knife free with a scowl, flipping it through his fingers to study the leather-bound hilt, scrutinizing it. The knife would be much lighter and easier to throw with the leather wrapping, but gripping the bare blade would make it more slippery: easier to botch an easy shot and accidently take out someone's eye. Was he willing to risk it for the sake of lowered air resistance? It would increase the power of the knife on impact…

Whatever. He'd just leave the wrappings on for now. Though he now had the irrational urge to petition a new set of throwing knives from the royal blacksmith, ones both safe, light, and easy to handle. Maybe hollow wooden hilts would be a sufficient replacement for the leather. That way he could have them made with a custom grip; easier to throw quickly and accurately.

Of course, he had his Witchblades, but those were only ideal for close combat. Every Witchhunter was given a set when Knighted into the Royal Extermination Corp, the sleek sickle-shaped blades specially designed to take off a Witch's head in one clean flick of the wrist. Kageyama had nothing against the weapons, but he much preferred bows and other long-range weapons as his strong-suit had always been his impeccable aim.

Striking quickly and from a distance was much safer and smarter than getting close enough to look a Witch in the eye. Close-range combat with a magic user was always fighting blind. And those blistering Witchblades left way too many weak spots. Kageyama much preferred the feeling of a knife flying from between his fingers or an arrow whizzing past his ear as he released a taut bowstring. The feeling of hitting a hard-to-reach target and bringing them down with one shot was exhilarating—a feeling second to none.

Kageyama studied the weapon between his fingers for a few more seconds, still discontent with the weapon and its many flaws. Letting out a chagrined exhalation, he flipped the instrument through his fingers and shifted his body to face a new target. "Oh well. This will have to do." Though, he really would have to have a chat with the Weapons Master about this. How irritating.

Lowering into an offensive stance, Kageyama cocked his arm back, prepared to let the knife fly once again, having settled his eyes on a new weak spot of the human body: the ankle. Ankles were hard to get to at times, but it was always handy to be able to hit one. If you cut it at the right angle, the target would be immobilized.

Of course, if it was a Witch, their magic would still function just fine, but that was another matter entirely, and one Kageyama would rather not address at that particular moment. Instead, he sharpened his senses as he always did before a throw, focusing wholly on his target, taking evened breaths as he gave himself his mark. Front target, side of left ankle.

The muscles in his wrist tensed in preparation of the throw as his fingers twitched imperceptibly, lining up perfectly with his target. It was a perfect shot. If he really wanted to show off, he could probably use two knives and hit both ankles at once. Maybe even do a theatrical flip. That would piss his fellow soldiers off for sure—not that any of them were watching.

"Tobio!"

Without a second's thought, Kageyama's body reacted, twisting to hurl the knife straight at the speaker; an unfortunate reflex he'd picked up over the years. Luckily, the new arrival had near-perfect reflexes and casually stretched his neck ever-so-slightly to the left, the blade whizzing past and imbedding in a tall oak behind him. The soldier smiled cordially, unoffended by the throw that would've killed almost anyone else. "I see you're still gifted with those knives of yours, Tobio."

Kageyama stood slowly, still recovering from the shock of adrenaline from almost killing his superior. "I suppose so. You shouldn't sneak up on me like that, Captain." He didn't offer an apology—Captain Oikawa and he had gone through this before multiple times. He was like a fox, popping out of nowhere without a sound. Kageyama and the other soldiers had almost beheaded the man more than a few times and it had become a sort of joke between them all.

Reaching an arm behind his back, Oikawa deftly retrieved the knife from the tree it was buried in and carefully handed it off to Kageyama. "I would be more careful with these if I were you," the older boy advised with a teasing wink. "If you play with sharp things, you'll eventually get cut, you know."

Gah, I forgot how much I hate him. Kageyama shot his commanding officer an unamused look, offering no verbal response, deeming it safer to stay silent as he turned back to his target and prepared to throw again. He and Oikawa were distinctly different, and whenever they were around each other, their personalities clashed so much it made others steer clear of them.

Though they were only about two years apart in age, Oikawa treated Kageyama like a child. Kageyama knew he felt threatened by him. When he'd graduated top of his class at the Royal Training Academy, he'd had been offered Oikawa'a job on the spot—which was no doubt why the older man had such a huge problem with him. But he didn't exactly understand why because he'd immediately turned down the position, wanting to work his way up from the bottom the humble and honest way.

Maybe that made Oikawa believe Kageyama thought he was better than him, he wasn't really sure. Whatever the case, they had an ongoing, one-sided rivalry where Oikawa constantly teased and belittled Kageyama whenever he got the chance. Some would call them 'friends,' but the words Kageyama would use were 'mortal enemies with a hint of false comradery (on Oikawa's part) and indifference (on Kageyama's).'

Honestly, he could care less about his commanding officer's issues with him. All he was worried about was slowly working his way up the ranks the right way. His goal was to one day belong to the elite force tasked with protecting the royal family, but to get to there, he'd first have to defeat the most powerful type of Witch in existence—a Thaumaturge. And that wasn't exactly an easy feat.

In fact, only ten had ever managed it, and one was the king himself, the other nine belonging to the very same guard he aspired to be a part of. It would most definitely be a challenge, but challenges were what excited Kageyama the most. Nothing sharpened his reflexes or excited him like a competition, and one against virtually every other Witchhunter in existence was most thrilling indeed,

Kageyama's fingers released the knife and it sailed through the air effortlessly, digging into the wood-person's ankle in the blink of an eye—exactly where he'd wanted it. Whipping out three more, he took aim and hit the other ankle and the two wrists in quick succession, leaving the humanoid target crucified as he once again turned his attention to Oikawa, who was—unfortunately—still there. "Did you want something?" He was beginning to get annoyed by the man's silent but judgmental presence.

Oikawa smiled, eyes narrowed as they seemed to pick apart Kageyama piece by piece, analyzing him and leaving no stone unturned. (He had to fight back the urge to squirm in discomfort.) "It's time for group sparring," he said finally, turning away with a relaxed smile on his face, expression changing in an instant to appear unthreatening. "You didn't forget about the mission tomorrow, did you?"

Irritated by the sudden change of subject, Kageyama ignored the question and went to retrieve his knives, tugging each one out with a quick jerk of his hand, running a finger over the leather grip on each with annoyance before placing it back in the pouch at his waist. Oikawa really did get on his nerves. He was one of those people that, no matter how nice they acted, seemed untrustworthy. He couldn't exactly explain it, but Kageyama trusted his instincts—and therefor didn't trust Oikawa.

Nevertheless, he couldn't ignore his superior forever. After placing the last knife in its holder, he turned to his commanding officer and gave a slight nod. "I know. I'm ready."

The mission Oikawa spoke of was to a village a little ways west of Karasuno Kingdom. It was more of a recon mission than anything else; scoping out the area after complaints of unusually high amounts of misfortune surrounding the village, believed by its inhabitants to be caused by magic. Kageyama wasn't sure he bought that: No Witch was stupid enough to curse a village so near the border, unless they had a death wish, maybe.

But what the king ordered was final, and so they were being sent out the next morning to head up the investigation into the villagers' claims. Kageyama didn't expect much based on the reports he'd heard, but he couldn't exactly say no to the king, could he? Or Oikawa, even though it bothered him to no end to admit it.

Almost seeming to read his mind, Oikawa flashed him an irritatingly cheerful smile, wrapping an arm around Kageyama and ushering him back along the path. "I can tell you're more than excited. I'll tell you what: We originally weren't going to invite you, but a few of us are heading over to a tavern later to, ah, alleviate some of the stress of the mission, if you understand my meaning." His eyes shone with a humor Kageyama honestly couldn't sympathize with and he chuckled at his own joke.

Holding back a snort, Kageyama struggled not to roll his eyes. "Gee. Thanks, but no thanks. I have to pack."

The older soldier elbowed his junior playfully in the ribs, though it failed to elicit the desired response from the recipient. "Oh, come on, Tobio, you're no fun!" Oikawa whined, pouting like a petulant child who had been told he can't have dessert. "You're eighteen; still young and impressionable. When are you going to grab life by the horns and live a little?"

"You're only twenty-one," Kageyama droned, annoyed. "Where do you get off calling me 'young' when you're only two years older, Captain?" Seriously, if Oikawa wasn't his commanding officer, Kageyama was sure he would've decked him about a hundred times over by now. He felt eternally sorry for the poor woman that ended up marrying the guy.

"Hey, don't talk back to your superior," Oikawa huffed, reminding Kageyama more and more of a scolded kid as he crossed his arms and puffed out his cheeks comically. Kageyama would've laughed—if he had a sense of humor that matched Oikawa's immaturity. "I swear, Tobio, you are so irksome…" Kageyama blocked out the rest of his speech, staring down at the ground as they walked.

The mission wasn't something he was exactly excited about. It was a week-long endeavor, and Kageyama would much rather spend his time improving his aim and working on his reaction time than stomping around a muddy village chasing after the ghost of a made-up Witch. He was sure their efforts would be fruitless and they'd return emptyhanded, having spent a week doing absolutely nothing of any help to the kingdom whatsoever.

If only Kageyama had accepted that stupid head position. Then at least he would have had some say in this idiotic traipse through the woods. But he didn't like being the leader: having people depend on him and look to him for guidance. It was unsettling. Kageyama looked out for himself and no one else. That was just how he operated. His own safety was his number one priority.

That may have seemed selfish to others, but Kageyama didn't really have anyone else to look after or worry about. His parents had died when he was ten, leaving him alone in the world in a rundown village with no money and no way to earn any. Lucky for him, he seemed to have a natural knack for fighting and had quickly picked up a place among the recruits training under the royal army.

He had moved up the ranks quickly, securing himself a spot amidst the top-tier of the REC, the Gold Unit. They were in charge of handling two of the six classes of Witches: the two most powerful, Sorcerers and Thaumaturges. Kageyama figured (at the time) that this would give him an advantage in finding a powerful Witch to kill and secure himself a spot in the king's personal guard, but he was absolutelywrong.

All the Gold Unit did was chase after half-formed claims of powerful magic, hoping to capture a target—any target. It was absolutely pitiful—and very boring—and Kageyama was slightly ashamed to be a part of it.

It wasn't that the soldiers weren't skilled—they were. It was just that there was never any truth to Witch reports. The men couldn't help it if all the Witches went into hiding, leaving none for them to ride all the way to glory, as Kageyama had hoped to do. But once you committed yourself to a Unit, you were stuck there with only two ways to get out: Be banished or rise up a rank.

Neither of these was particularly appealing, so Kageyama was forced to wallow where he was, waiting until he either died of boredom or finally caught an actual, flesh-and-blood Witch… which probablywouldn't happen any time soon. How depressing…

"Tobio, are you listening?"

Kageyama only began to pay attention when he realized Oikawa was talking directly to him now. "Yes. What?"

"I said if I beat you at sparring, you have to come to the tavern with us," the brunette repeated, wearing a smile that struck Kageyama as oddly evil. "I'll even go easy on you."

It was a trap: Definitely a trap. After he'd phrased it that way, Oikawa knew Kageyama wouldn't be able to refuse the obvious challenge. He'd always had a problem backing down, and Oikawa knew it from their years of competitive banter. Damn him, that irritating bastard.

"Fine," he eventually scoffed, shoving aside his reluctance before his senior could catch wind of it. "But I don't need you to take it easy on me. I can beat you just fine as-is."

Oikawa chuckled as Kageyama increased his pace to lengthen the space between them. "Oh, is that so? That's quite a lot of confidence, Tobio." He smirked wickedly and Kageyama almost—almost—regretted agreeing. "Let's hope you can back it up."

A/N: A new original AU I came up with. As soon as I thought of it I knew it would be perfect for Kagehina~ I cross-posted it to Wattpad so go check it out there too (user is MochiMochiMo). I know I should be finishing stories instead of starting them but I have a problem okay ;-;

Anyway, sorry I didn't post for a few weeks: I was on vacation. But I'm back now so expect updates regularly. As always, feel free to leave comments, corrections, et cetera down in the review section and follow + fav if you like the story and want more. Ciao~