Chapter Text
A knock came to the door the next morning. Hinata was so used to sleepy mornings with only Kageyama or Morgan to wake him that he thought, for a moment, that he’d imagined the sound. He thought about it a moment, then let sleep reclaim him.
The knock came again, louder this time. Loud enough that there was no doubt in Hinata’s mind that the sound was real. Before he could do anything about it, Kageyama groaned in protest, hugging him close. Kageyama nuzzled into his hair, breath tickling Hinata as he let out a small, sleepy sigh.
Hinata pressed closer to him, arms snaking around Kageyama. If the witch wasn’t going to answer the door, then he might as well sleep in a little longer and enjoy Kageyama’s arms draped warm around him.
Their visitor was too persistent for that, though. The knock came again, even louder, followed by a voice. “Oi, it’s me! Open up, Kageyama.”
The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but not enough for Hinata to place it. Before he could ask, though, Kageyama was sitting up, hair mussed and blue eyes hazy with sleep. “Coming!” He called out, stumbling out of bed and fishing around in a drawer for fresh clothes. He stripped out of his nightclothes then and there, fair skin exposed in a long, graceful line. Hinata followed the arch of Kageyama’s spine and his long legs appreciatively. When Kageyama had managed to pull on some pants and turn around, he caught Hinata staring and raised an eyebrow.
“What? You’re allowed to be naked, but I can’t?” His gaze raked over Hinata’s bare skin, eyes darkening.
“We—I was working on shifting last night!” Hinata cried out in defense, heat flushing across his face and shoulders. He jumped out of bed and pulled on pants as well, suddenly all-too-aware of how exposed he was.
“Yeah, and I live here,” Kageyama snorted. “Gonna have to get used to it since you’re staying here.”
Hinata had managed to put his shirt on backward by the time Kageyama was fully dressed and left the bedroom with a quick ruffle to Hinata’s hair. He could hear voices out in the main room and fought with his shirt for a few more minutes before running toward them.
A man with short dark hair in rough spikes looked down at him from the entryway, stern eyes widening in surprise. A bow and quiver draped across his back, and a long knife hung from his belt. He dressed in muted colors, dark greens and brown leather, and although he looked at home in the forest, Hinata could swear he recognized him from somewhere in town.
Kageyama cursed low under his breath, running a hand through his hair. He looked down at Hinata like he wasn’t sure what to do with him. “Shouyou, this is Iwaizumi, a friend of mine.”
“Shouyou?” Iwaizumi froze, looking down at Hinata in a mix between awe and horror. “As in, Hinata Shouyou?”
Hinata’s stomach dropped. “Y-yeah….” He could feel the faint bristle of lightning against his skin as the tension peaked between the three, and he stepped closer to Kageyama instinctively.
Kageyama glanced down at him, expression unreadable, before putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay,” he whispered, so soft that Hinata barely caught the words. Kageyama’s gaze shifted back to Iwaizumi warily.
Iwaizumi cursed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fuck… Tobio, he is missing, presumed dead. If anyone in town gets wind of this, it is going to be trouble. Why the hell is he out here? Why didn’t he tell anyone he was leaving?”
Hinata’s heart pounded as he tried to process the words, tried to find the right ones to answer. His throat felt like broken glass as he tried to speak, tried to explain everything. Tears stung at his eyes. Presumed dead. The words echoed in his head.
Kageyama edged in front of him protectively, expression darkening. The flowers in the cottage turned toward Iwaizumi, staring at him as intensely as the witch. “He’s here by choice,” Kageyama warned, voice a low growl.
“You think that matters?” Iwaizumi snapped back. “Oikawa is panicking. He thinks that the town is under attack! If he finds out Shouyou is here, he’s going to think you’re behind all of this!”
“He already does!” Blue light glowed in Kageyama’s eyes as he bristled. Vines crept toward them in slow, dangerous tendrils.
“Don’t pull that angry plant magic shit on me—I’m trying to help!”
Kageyama sighed, shoulders sinking. The vines stopped their retreat, even if the flowers didn’t turn their gaze away. “I know. I know, I just—look, it’s complicated, okay? See for yourself.”
He moved, no longer in front of Hinata, and Hinata’s tail tucked between his legs as he realized his secret was out. His ears flattened against his head, and he inched back toward Kageyama fearfully. Kageyama leaned against him in return, just slightly—just enough to bring Hinata back to earth.
“…Fuck.” Iwaizumi sank into one of the chairs at the table, looking like he’d seen a ghost. “He’s…?”
“Wolfhearted.” Kageyama’s hand settled into Hinata’s hair, ruffling it gently. Hinata leaned into the touch, still on edge. “He’s not dangerous. He’s been through a lot, though.”
Iwaizumi sighed. “Okay,” he muttered, shell-shocked. “Guess that explains why he’s out here. Just be careful, all right? If Oikawa finds out, he’s gonna think you kidnapped him or something.”
“Pretty sure he already does.” The plants around them slowly relaxed, turning back toward the windows as Kageyama stepped over to the stove. He put the kettle on and brought down three cups.
Hinata followed Kageyama, feeling a little bit lost. Once tea was made, Kageyama nudged him over to the other chair.
“Sit,” he grumbled.
“But what about you?”
“Sit,” Kageyama repeated, setting down two cups of honey-sweet lavender tea on the table.
Hinata took a seat across from Iwaizumi, fidgeting with his cup and staring down into it. Morgan flew down to land on his shoulder with a soft kra and rubbed his beak in Hinata’s hair. Hinata relaxed a bit, reaching up to stroke him before taking a sip of his tea.
Iwaizumi looked in awe of the whole thing, studying Hinata with wide eyes. He didn’t say anything to him, though. When he finally spoke, it was to Kageyama. “There’s a lady in town who wants a potion.”
Hinata’s head snapped up. He looked between the two of them in confusion, but Kageyama only leaned against the counter, teacup cradled in his hands as he took a long drink from it. “Sure. What kind?”
Hinata glanced from Iwaizumi to Kageyama and back again, trying to put two and two together.
Iwaizumi snorted. “Don’t look too shocked. Where do you think most of the town medicine comes from?”
“You?” Hinata whirled around to Kageyama. Morgan squawked in protest, taking flight to land on Kageyama’s shoulder instead.
“Well, yeah. I have access to herbs and know how to use them.” Kageyama raised an eyebrow, looking at Hinata like that should have been obvious.
“I know he’s not exactly welcome in town,” Iwaizumi said, grimacing. “But he knows plants better than anyone. I come out here to hunt anyway, so I bring orders to him and take them back to town.”
“Oh,” Hinata frowned, not sure what to do with this new information. Despite all of the awful rumors, Kageyama had been helping the townsfolk from afar, all along.
“So, what kind of potion do you need?” Kageyama set his empty cup down, reaching for a book on a nearby shelf. Hinata’s heart leaped into his throat as he recognized it. It was the same book he’d grabbed not that long ago, with careful illustrations of bottles, leaves, and gemstones next to every numbered potion. He flipped through the pages idly, waiting for Iwaizumi to answer.
“A love potion.”
The book snapped shut, and the plants in the house shuddered. Kageyama’s gaze turned venomous, and he growled, “we’ve been over this.”
“I know.” Iwaizumi pulled out a pouch, tossing it to Kageyama.
Despite the fury written on his face, Kageyama caught the pouch, opening it up. He took in a sharp breath, eyes lingering on the contents.
“You’ve got two mouths to feed, now,” Iwaizumi pointed out.
“We’re fine. The berries are in season. There’s plenty to eat.”
“And when winter comes?” Iwaizumi took a long drink of tea. “It’s a lot of money. It would feed you two all winter with plenty left over.”
Kageyama sank against the counter, staring into the pouch. “You know I hate making those,” he whispered.
“I know.” Iwaizumi sighed, downing the last of his tea.
Kageyama looked over at Hinata. He didn’t look angry any more. He looked, if anything, lost. Time stretched between them before he finally looked back at Iwaizumi. “This is an exception. Got that? Medicine, blessings, luck, whatever—all that’s fine. But no more love potions after this.”
“Sure.” Iwaizumi leaned back in his chair.
“I think I have some on hand,” Kageyama sighed. He opened up the cabinet by the stove and pulled out a small, empty bottle before sifting through other, larger ones. Finally, he pulled out what he was looking for.
Hinata’s heart stopped.
He recognized the bottle immediately. A simple label marked the front: No. 9. A small, delicate heart had been drawn onto the paper, and sure as Hinata had left it, almost none of the potion remained.
“That’s weird,” Kageyama muttered. “I never use this. I was sure I had a bit of love potion left.”
Hinata’s hands tightened around his teacup as he realized, in horror, that the potion he’d poured into Kageyama’s tea that fateful morning had not been a healing potion. It had been a love potion. He’d slipped Kageyama love potion in the guise of tea—after everything that Kageyama had done for him.
The kiss from yesterday, the gentle touches and morning cuddles, and every rare smile Kageyama had given him. They were all a lie. They were all because of the love potion.
Kageyama didn’t love him. It wasn’t real. He’d been under his own love spell all along.
Hinata felt sick. His eyes burned, and his hands shook around the teacup. He stopped listening. He couldn’t bring himself to meet their eyes. Every breath shuddered through him, and lightning rolled over his skin in waves.
The bump of a book against his head pulled him back to earth.
“Dumbass, are you even listening?”
“Wh… what?” Hinata looked up at Kageyama, fighting back tears.
“I said it’s time to earn your keep. You wanted to help out with things, right?”
Hinata nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
“Good. I could use an extra hand with making a new batch, especially since Iwaizumi is waiting. Finish your tea and meet me out in the garden.”
A hand landed in Hinata’s hair, ruffling it. Instead of reassuring him, like it usually did, it only made guilt twist harder inside of him.
And then, Kageyama was gone. Hinata was alone with Iwaizumi, staring down into the dregs of his tea. Eventually, he swallowed the last of it.
“Iwaizumi…?” He still didn’t trust himself to speak. But Iwaizumi was here. He was going back to town. And, he’d said himself, everyone in town thought that Hinata was dead.
“Yeah?”
“Do you know Sugawara?”
“Sure. Why?”
Hinata took a deep, steadying breath. “Do you think you could take a letter to him for me?”
Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow, leaning back. “Yeah, I can do that,” he agreed.
Hinata let out a small sigh of relief. Before Kageyama had a chance to come back in and yell at him, he searched for a piece of paper and a pen, scribbling down a quick letter.
Suga,
Thank you for all of the kindness you’ve shown me. I’m sorry for worrying you and everyone else. I’m safe, and I’ll try to come back soon.
Could you please tell my sister that I love her and I’ll see her again soon? Please tell her that I’m okay and that I think about her every day.
Shouyou
He folded the piece of paper and handed it to Iwaizumi with a stammered thanks before running out to the garden.
“What took so long?” Kageyama pushed a basket into Hinata’s hands. “Nevermind, just hold this for a second.”
He pulled a few plants up by the roots and placed them into the basket. He pulled the leaves and flowers off others. Half of them were unrecognizable. Normally Kageyama told Hinata what things were, took time to teach him how to recognize them. This time, he was strangely silent. Hinata picked a plant up from the basket, the entire root exposed and reaching.
“What is this…?” he asked, trying to focus on the task at hand instead of the fact that—no matter how important Kageyama was to him, Kageyama didn’t really feel the same way in return.
“Damiana.”
The name was foreign. It wasn’t a plant that Kageyama had ever mentioned before. “Do you use that for a lot of things?” Hinata asked, trying desperately to lighten the mood.
Kageyama clipped several red roses from their bushes, looking pained. He stared down at the cut flowers as if mourning their loss. “I try not to. It’s dangerous.”
“You mean, poisonous?”
Kageyama shook his head before throwing a few more leaves into the basket. “Not poisonous. Just dangerous.”
“I don’t understand….” And Hinata wanted, desperately, to understand. He wanted to know what he’d cursed Kageyama with, what he’d done to him.
Kageyama looked at him for a moment. He didn’t say anything at first. He simply set an arch of heart-shaped flowers into the basket, staring down at them. Eventually, he spoke, sounding uncertain. “Lavender is a gentle suggestion. It soothes and relaxes, but it doesn’t force anything. Valerian is more insistent. It sings the siren’s song of sleep. Lulls you under. Passionflower is firm. It wraps sleep and dreams around you like a thick blanket. Fighting it is as useless as fighting nightfall.”
Hinata struggled to follow what he was getting at. “So damiana makes you sleep.”
“No. Not really.” Kageyama looked out toward the daylight crescent moon as it sank toward the horizon. “But, if passionflower is firm, damiana is unyielding. It is used to dominate others, to force them to do things even if they don’t want to do it. That’s why it’s dangerous. That’s why I don’t like to use it.”
Hinata forgot how to breathe. Tears splashed down his cheeks, dripping to the ground below. That was what he’d done to Kageyama. He’d forced him to love him back, even though he didn’t want to. He’d taken away his free will. Not only was the love Kageyama felt fake, he was forced into feeling it. He might be suffering, trying to break free, deep down.
“Shouyou…?”
Hinata stumbled back, something soft crushing under his foot. He followed Kageyama’s gaze to see a lavender rose, petals broken and scattered, beneath his foot.
The sound he let out was just as broken, and for one terrible, breathless moment, he froze, eyes meeting Kageyama’s. The witch looked worried, scared even. It killed Hinata to know that he’d forced Kageyama into this, had taken everything from him when Kageyama had only ever been kind to him.
He didn’t know what else to do. He ran. He ran as fast as he could, sprinting for the trees, crashing through blackberries and underbrush, desperate to get away from what he’d done. Shouts came after him, but he ignored them, ignored the pounding of Kageyama’s footsteps behind him. He ran and ran and ran until something caught his ankle. He crashed into the ground—hard. Vines snaked around that ankle, then the other. He struggled and kicked at them, tore at them with his hands, but they continued their ascent, undeterred. By the time Kageyama caught up, the vines had wrapped their way up to his knees.
“What’s wrong?” Kageyama asked between gasps for air, hands on his knees. “Why did you run?”
Hinata only shook his head as more tears streamed down his cheek.
“Is it me? Did I do something wrong?”
And there, in those words, was something so fragile and afraid that he’d done something wrong that it broke Hinata’s heart. He sobbed and reached up for Kageyama, even knowing he had no right to. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
The vines released Hinata, and arms wrapped around him in a fierce embrace. “You scared me,” Kageyama whispered.
Hinata hid his tears in Kageyama’s neck and hugged him back just as tightly, desperate for any shred of comfort even if it came at Kageyama’s expense. He hated himself a bit for it. Kageyama didn’t even want this. He didn’t really feel this way. But Hinata felt so broken, so scared and hurt. He needed this, needed just this hug to keep from losing himself.
Soft kisses pressed into his hair, and he cried harder with each one.
“Come here.” Kageyama’s words were gentle as he lifted Hinata and carried him back to the cottage.
Kageyama didn’t even complain about the drops of blood from a thousand blackberry cuts peppering Hinata’s skin as they stained and ruined his favorite shirt.
“I’m ruining your life,” Hinata whispered. He clung to Kageyama as the witch carried him back to the cottage, shaking so hard he could barely breathe. The tears refused to stop. The just kept coming, kept pouring down his cheeks.
“Bullshit,” Kageyama murmured, but there was no bite to the word. He carried Hinata into the home, past a startled Iwaizumi, and right to bed.
Iwaizumi hovered by the open door, mouth parted with unspoken questions. Kageyama ignored him to set Hinata down in the bed and pull the blankets up around him. He opened up the armoire and grabbed another quilt, setting that one around Hinata’s shoulders.
“What are you….” Hinata struggled with the words, scrubbing at his eyes with a sleeve.
“Shh. Just rest a bit. We’ll talk later.”
Hinata’s heart dropped at the thought of talking later, at the thought of telling Kageyama what he’d done. Instead, he just said, “…I’m sorry…. I stepped on the purple rose.” That small apology was all he could manage. The other, bigger apology was still too hard to put to words.
“It’s okay.”
“Did I kill it…?” Hinata whispered, hands twisting in the blankets in his lap.
“No, you didn’t kill it,” Kageyama told him, brushing tears from his cheeks. “That rose isn’t so fragile.”
Hinata nodded, leaning into Kageyama’s touch.
“Stay here. Okay?” Kageyama soothed fingers through his hair. “I’ll be right back with tea.”
“Okay….”
Kageyama pulled back, seemingly satisfied with that answer. He walked back to the kitchen with Iwaizumi trailing after him. They spoke in hushed words, and even though he knew he shouldn’t, Hinata strained to listen as he hugged the blankets closer.
“…is he going to be okay?”
“I hope so.” A pause, followed by the familiar clatter of a teacup on the counter.
“If he’s causing you too much trouble—”
“He’s not.”
“Is it always like this?”
The kettle let out a shrill whistle, drowning out their words.
“There is no potion for the kind of pain he’s in. This isn’t the sort of thing you throw a bandage on and call it good. Someday, with love and effort, things may get easier for him. But, he will always bear the scar of this pain on his soul.”
Iwaizumi sighed. “And how long are you prepared to deal with this for?”
There were some scrapes and shuffling. Hinata couldn’t make out the last part. It was probably for the best.
When Kageyama returned, he returned alone. He carried two cups. One steamed with freshly steeped tea. The other did not—it smelled sharp and alcoholic. He set the cup of alcohol on the bedside table before handing the steaming cup of tea to Hinata.
The tea was different, this time. The sweet, floral scent was gone. Instead, this one smelled like warm wood, earth, and flowers Hinata couldn’t quite place. He stared down into the amber liquid for too long.
“It’s not poison if that’s what you’re thinking.” Kageyama rustled around in a nearby drawer before sitting on the bed. He dipped a cloth in the alcohol before carefully swiping it over each tiny cut. They’d stopped bleeding by now, but the alcohol still stung.
Hinata winced down at his tea. “What kind of tea is it?”
“Special blend. Valerian. White willow bark. Saint John’s wort. Licorice and honey to improve the taste.” Kageyama set the cloth aside and wrapped an arm around Hinata’s shoulders. Hinata leaned against him, guilt twisting inside of him even at that slight contact.
“Valerian… you said that’s for sleep, right?”
“Just to help you relax,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to Hinata’s head. “If you sleep, that’s okay, too.”
“What about the others…?”
“The willow bark is to help with the pain from these.” Kageyama’s fingers brushed over a few of the cuts and fresh bruises.
“And the Saint John’s wort…?”
“That’s for these.” Kageyama brushed a tear off Hinata’s cheek. “It won’t take the pain away. But it’ll help.”
They stayed like that for some time, with Hinata curled close to Kageyama, sipping at his tea. Kageyama stayed until Hinata had finished every last drop. Only then did he stroke Hinata’s hair, hugging him close. “I have to finish that potion, but it won’t take me long,” he promised. “Stay here, and I’ll be right back. Okay?”
“Okay,” Hinata echoed. He hugged the blanket tighter as Kageyama left, shutting the door behind him.
It was harder to be alone. To be alone with his feelings, to be alone with what he’d done. The tears didn’t stop, but they slowed to a trickle as Hinata half-listened to the click of stone and glass against wood from the kitchen. His stomach twisted as he prepared himself to tell Kageyama the truth. His heart ached as he wondered how Kageyama would respond.
It killed him, more than anything, to think that he loved Kageyama more than life itself… and know that Kageyama didn’t actually feel the same way.
Kageyama had been right about one thing, though. Valerian was insistent. It sang the siren’s song of sleep and lulled Hinata under before he’d even realized it.
When Kageyama finally returned from the kitchen, Hinata was deep asleep, tears drying on his cheeks.