Chapter Text
A captain never loses his composure.
No, that’s not right.
A captain stays strong in front of his teammates. A captain – a good captain, a proper captain – never loses his composure around them. He acts as a sturdy support for them in every situation. He makes sure they are in high spirits, that they believe in themselves, that even a fall so far, so hard that it seems like nothing will ever ever ever get better is something they can spring back from.
But a good, proper captain, no matter how strong, has a breaking point. After a lost game, when he’s alone, he may wallow, he may cry, he may be furious. So even the best captain needs his own support.
Sometimes Daichi thinks Suga would make a better leader. He has trouble actually reprimanding the team, actually being angry at with them, but he is a support. Everyone looks up to him so much. Everyone relies on him. He keeps them calm when the situation seems dire.
Daichi’s not sure he compares.
“Daichi, really, they look to you for orders. You keep them organized. You keep them on their feet. I just…I just wipe tears and then tell no one they were there in the first place, you know?” Suga whispers in the confines of their tent, when it’s too late in the night for the team to be listening in and Daichi voices his troubles, gaze fixed on the canvas behind Suga’s head. “The most I can do is comfort them. I couldn’t keep us alive like you do.”
He leans into the touch when Sugawara’s hand brushes his cheek. They should probably put some clothes on in case one of the younger members has a nightmare or something. He wouldn’t want them running into the tent to find them naked like this. But he keeps that to himself, because a bit of laughter and embarrassment and normalcy would do them so much good right now. “I think you could, though. You keep everyone so calm. You’re Koushi. You’re meant to support a team like this. Maybe our roles were meant to be reversed.”
“I’m Koushi and you’re Daichi. We’re the support and the ground. But, I think I wasn’t meant to support everyone. Just you.” He smiles reassuringly, but there’s the tiniest bit of hesitation behind it.
Daichi catches his hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing his knuckles. “You do an exceptional job of that,” he murmurs against his skin. Don’t ever go, please. You’re right: you are my support, and I don’t know how I’d live without you. “Do you really think we can carry on like this?”
“With a leader like you, there’s not a doubt in my mind.”
Ukai could’ve done it. Takeda could have, too, or even Shimizu. Anybody but Daichi. But none of them showed up to the damn gym. It was a miracle the whole team did, so he can’t exactly be upset, but a fucking adult presence would be really helpful sometimes. Adults, especially ones like coach and sensei, were more capable of keeping a group of kids alive than another kid.
It’s not as though Daichi’s even the most qualified here. Asahi could try. Even Sugawara would probably handle this better than Daichi, and is therefore a better leader in his eyes. But Asahi’s too much of a baby. Suga’s the best leader they could have, so if his opinion is that Daichi is better suited to command them, then command he will.
He still remembers the first day, when Miyagi fell. How his first instinct had been to help his family, how he had flown home from the restaurant, all too reluctant to let Suga out of his sight as he did the same. They promised to meet at the gym. Texted the whole team to do the same, to bring their families, saying that they’d all get out together. Go somewhere. Nowhere was safe, but they were hopeful. They’d take their families and go to safety and never have to think about the terror of those few hours when death walked the streets of their previously peaceful neighbourhoods. And they’d all shown up alone.
Daichi himself had had blood on his clothes and a distant look in his eyes. He remembers the overwhelming relief of seeing Suga run down the street, then the horror of realizing that he was also on his own. And he was crying. Oh, Daichi must’ve been crying, too. Then Hinata, on his bike, crashing into a pillar in his haste and his shaken state. Kageyama shortly after. Nishinoya with Tanaka and Asahi in tow. Tsukishima half-carrying Yamaguchi, who was trembling and gagging like he’d already emptied his stomach completely but needed to rid himself of something more. Suga had taken a towel from his hastily-packed bag and tried to clean the blood from their faces, asking how they were, if they wanted to talk about it, and helping Tsukishima set his friend down to relax.
Narita and Kinoshita had been pursued by a monster (zombies, Tanaka called them, and Tsukishima had nodded in subdued agreement), and nobody moved for a few seconds after they collapsed outside the doors, gasping, because nobody knew what to do. Rather, some did, and no one wanted to do it.
And Daichi had, finally, because he needed to protect his teammates if he couldn’t protect his own damn family. This was going to be his family now, he decided in that moment, and refused to think again of the state of his parents as he locked them in their room, the hissing and groaning and the sound of nails and fists on the door as he fled. Dead. Not dead. Not human. His brother gone but blood all over the hallway.
He’d waited until he got out of the house to be sick.
So when he drew the knife from his belt, he’d done exactly what he couldn’t bring himself to do with his parents. And it worked. It worked and he hated himself, but Suga assured him quietly that it wasn’t human, it wasn’t murder, as he stood over the body and just stared. Not human, but it had been.
And Ennoshita last, swinging around the side of the gym with tears pouring down his face, seeing that no one else had family to speak of anymore and pressing his face into his hands to muffle the sobs. He carefully avoided being anywhere near the zombie, despite the reassurances that it was dead, for good this time. And when he finally approached the team, Narita, Kinoshita, and Tanaka had gathered him into their arms and cried with him.
They had to go. Yeah, they were all upset; of course they were fucking upset, some of them had just seen their families die, some had stumbled upon them already dead, some had been forced to kill them in self-defence, and it had all happened so damn fast that it was fucking surreal. He’d been on a date. The happiest thing he could've been doing today, and then a television announcement and phones buzzing and panic and fleeing and death.
But they needed to get the hell out of there and find somewhere safe. So he demanded that Kageyama haul Hinata to his feet, that Asahi stop looking so dumbstruck, that Yamaguchi get ahold of himself, and that they run. Shimizu had stopped responding to his texts nearly half an hour ago, and Hinata, after careful questioning from Suga, said the same of Yachi.
This was a dire situation. They didn’t have time to ‘hope for the best’. Admittedly, the city wasn’t necessarily a smart place to be, but his plans had worked well enough.
And here they are. Living on the roof of a building at the edge of a desolate city in the middle of the zombie apocalypse. Raiding stores for food, supplies, weapons, anything. Climbing a fire escape when they can, a shitty old rope ladder when they can’t. At some point, Hinata had commented that they were living like actual crows, and it had at least brought smiles to a few peoples’ faces.
But by God, it’s so difficult to keep everyone alive. It’s so draining to keep them all hopeful. Because how can there be hope when there’s no end in sight? He can’t say with certainty that they’ll be okay. He can’t promise them that they’ll find safety and security someday.
He nods. “Thank you, Koushi,” he breathes, leaning in to kiss him properly. The flashlight flickers above their heads. They’re almost out of batteries, Daichi remembers. As though he needs another thing to worry about. “We should get to sleep. You’re on first guard tomorrow.”
Suga nods and shimmies into the tattered old pyjama pants he left in the corner earlier. Daichi forgoes pants and settles for sleeping in his boxers and t-shirt, turning the flashlight off and bathing them in complete darkness. Their tent is the one closest to the door leading into the building. All the windows at the bottom are broken, leaving it open to invasion, and even with the chain-link fencing they covered all the openings with and the boards nailed to the door (poorly, very poorly, because nails don’t work well in bricks and steel, so they jammed them into cracks and hoped for the best), he’s not comfortable having any of the younger team members that close to potential danger.
Which reminds him; he’s got to send a party out tomorrow to check the barricades downstairs. He might as well go himself. Maybe take Asahi and Noya.
“Daichi, don’t worry so much. Just let tomorrow happen. Sleep for now,” Suga demands, scooting closer and slamming his head down on Daichi’s chest with a harrumph. His boyfriend grunts, but wraps an arm around him and nods. Sleep. Right. He can’t do a good job of taking care of everyone if he’s sleep-deprived.
He presses his face to Suga’s hair, banishes all thoughts outside of how warm he is and how pleasant he smells (despite not having to been able to shower yet this week) and how fucking important he is, and sleeps.
*
“Rise and shine,” Suga’s voice pierces the cold morning air, wraps around Daichi’s brain and yanks him free from his dreams. “C’mon. I have to go, and you have a team to organize.” He pats Daichi’s leg roughly, then shakes it. Daichi groans.
They definitely stayed up too late last night. “How can you be so cheery this early?” he grumbles, removing his arm from over his eyes to find that the tent is only lit by the faint grey light of dawn.
“I’m not. I’m as tired as you. But if we drag our feet, everyone else does, remember?” Suga unzips the tent door, and Daichi can see Tanaka outlined on his perch on the edge of the roof, keeping guard. He’ll be going to sleep once he’s relieved of the duty. If he isn’t sleeping already.
He can also see the dark marks littering Suga’s throat, and bites his lip to hide a smile. “Do you still have that scarf I found a few months ago?”
“Daichiiii,” he whines, hands flying up to his throat. “You’re lucky it’s cold enough that I have an excuse. I thought I said be careful with that.” Despite his complaints, he rummages around in the bag beside the pile of blankets they call a bed until he finds the thick, blue wool scarf and winds it around his neck.
“I like the sounds you make,” he offers apologetically, sitting up and stretching before helping Suga adjust the scarf so it sits comfortably on his shoulders.
“I didn’t give you hickeys,” Suga grumbles, but he's smiling behind the fabric. Daichi gives in to temptation and kisses him. He really does like the way he reacts to Daichi giving him hickeys, but the aftermath is almost enough to make him stop doing it.
“That,” he begins, kissing him again before continuing, “is because my throat isn’t nearly as sensitive. There’s no point.” Possessiveness aside, that is. But he couldn’t exactly call Sugawara a possessive person. Just exceptionally affectionate and caring.
He expects some kind of retort, like ‘my throat’s not sensitive either’, which is a complete lie and they both know it, but instead Suga wrinkles his nose and laughs. “Please tell me we still have toothpaste.”
“That bad, eh?” Daichi makes a point of kissing him a third time, tugging the scarf down for better access. Suga pushes him back into the bed and presses his lips to his cheek.
“Just give me the toothpaste.” Everyone has the same basic necessities in their tent: water bottles, toothpaste, toilet paper, clothes, blankets, weapons (primarily bladed ones, but Daichi and Sugawara have a gun, as do Asahi and Nishinoya), a bit of food, the whole shebang. And there’s a supply tent right in the middle of their camp, with a proper food supply, more weapons, more everything. So they may have raided a few dozen stores for all those tents. They’re extremely useful, and it was lucky they managed to find enough, since so many other people have been looting as well. Daichi holds Suga to him as he draws his own bag close and fishes the half-empty tube of toothpaste from it.
“Don’t use too much water,” he reminds him, pressing the tube to his hand. It hasn’t rained in a while, so they have to use water sparingly. And everything else.
“Come with me,” Suga urges, prying himself off of Daichi and ducking out of the tent, bending back over to stare hopefully at him.
He shakes his head. “I’ll catch up. I’m not wearing pants right now,” he explains, drawing the blankets back to show him that he’s still only in boxers. And here Suga’s already in track pants and a hoodie. How fucking early must he have gotten up…
“Kei woke me. I’m surprised you didn’t hear.” Suga flashes him a smile and stands to walk to the water basin on the nearest corner of the roof, behind the semicircle of tents.
Daichi closes the door, puts proper clothes on, and hurries after him. He slips his arms around his neck and holds back the scarf just as he's leaning over to spit the mouthful of foamy, minty water over the edge of the roof, effectively startling him into nearly swallowing it. “Sorry, sorry,” he chuckles before he can yell at him, dropping the scarf and using his sleeve to wipe his mouth dry.
“Don’t scare me like that.” Suga pouts once the sleeve leaves his lips. There’s no real discontent behind it.
“Can I kiss you again?” Daichi asks softly, hands still hovering near his face. It’s a good thing only Tsukishima and Tanaka are awake this early; the more childish members of the group tend to act revolted by strong displays of affection out in the open. Which is hypocritical, because Hinata is very eager to be affectionate with Kageyama in broad daylight. He just can’t handle seeing his friends do the same.
Of course, Suga shakes his head. “Brush your teeth first.”
Daichi sticks out his tongue and takes the toothpaste when it’s handed to him. This hardly qualifies as brushing one’s teeth, since they just pour toothpaste onto their fingers and scrub at their teeth until they feel relatively clean. But it’s the best they can do.
Suga’s already ushering Tanaka into his tent when he finishes. He’s yawning and dragging his feet, and Daichi feels bad for putting him on such an early shift. At least standing guard after dawn is somewhat normal, and a much better time to wake up than around two in the morning. So maybe he’s being too nice to Suga, giving him the easier workload and finding him little gifts on his trips through the city. And almost never letting him off the roof.
He just wants him safe and happy. Something that requires a surfeit of careful planning and organization on his part.
Maybe Tsukishima and Yamaguchi would be better for him to take for patrol, since Asahi doesn’t fare well in such a violent environment. He has the potential to be an incredible protection for the team, but his fear of injuring even the undead makes him useless. He would expect, since Asahi is afraid of these ‘zombies’ themselves, that he’d be more than willing to kill them, but alas; he just runs away most of the time.
He leaves Sugawara to his job, gazing out over the more crowded part of the city to make sure no people or zombies get too close, bow and arrows resting on the cement beside them. Daichi generally leaves guard duty to those with better aim and an understanding that a quiet demeanour goes a long way. Hordes passing through need to be left alone unless they start trying to enter the building. So he ensures that no noise is made once they receive the warning that one is present, usually resulting in demanding that everyone hide in their tents but himself and their current guard.
“Hey,” he says softly, crouching down to Tsukishima’s eye level. He’s leaning back against the half-wall that surrounds the perimeter of the roof. “How’s Tadashi?”
Tsukishima shrugs noncommittally. “Had a nightmare last night. Didn’t want to bother Suga,” he offers, not meeting Daichi’s gaze.
Yamaguchi’s state of mental health is poor, and has been since the initial outbreak, but there’s definitely been some improvement from his earlier refusal to eat or speak. They’re all going through about the same thing, Suga had explained, so surely he could find a bright side to things, surely he could pull himself up, will himself to live. He’d be long dead if that conversation hadn’t taken place. Daichi sighs and leans back so he’s balancing on his heels.
“How are you?”
Tsukishima glances up at him, hesitates a moment, then shrugs again. “Had a nightmare last night. Didn’t want to bother Suga,” he repeats, and Daichi detects the faintest trace of amusement in his tone.
“You can bother me, too, y’know.” He turns and seats himself beside his teammate, back pressing against the freezing cement, and how the hell does Tsukishima look so relaxed when sitting here is so damn uncomfortable? “He's not the only one who can listen and help.”
“Yeah,” the blonde is looking away again, tugging at his shoelace as he speaks. “We thought you have enough to worry about already without us acting like children and asking for comfort after bad dreams or shitty days.”
Daichi laughs, but it’s brief and breathy. “What kind of captain would I be if I couldn’t handle my team acting like kids?” It’s not as though most of them didn’t do it before their world had fallen apart. He’d felt, even when he’d been just the captain of their volleyball team, like he was dealing with a group of toddlers on a regular basis. Now, as leader and captain of a group of teenagers fighting to survive, he still finds that life is that way sometimes. “Koushi’s busy right now, but you can still talk to him if you go over there. Otherwise, I’m always ready to listen.” He pats Tsukishima lightly on the shoulder. Hopes he’ll at least say something that will help Daichi to help him.
“We never did tell anyone what happened the first day,” he whispers, and when he looks to Daichi it’s with the eyes of a lost child. “I think…it might be my fault Tadashi’s the way he is. That’s why I try to help him. I’d really be a heartless bastard if I fucked him up like that and left him to fend for himself.”
It’s too damn early for a heart-to-heart. He knows that, but it’s what he was asking for. Daichi marvels at Suga’s tolerance. He wants to help – he really does, this is a person he’s responsible for – but hell if he’s in any state to deal with such an onslaught of emotion.
Admittedly, he’s a bit scared to hear what Tsukishima has to say.
“You can tell me. I won’t say anything to anyone else if you don’t want me to.”
Shit.
Tsukishima nods. “He had a kid brother. I didn’t know much about him. I kind of feel like shit for that now. He was a nice kid, but Tadashi spent more time at my house than I did at his, so I never even learnt his name. And his parents were – they were really great people. I was such an ungrateful prick sometimes. I guess we all are, but I was bad. I didn’t pay them much mind, I was just adequately polite.
“I was in my room when it happened. Just watching a movie on my computer. And then I heard screaming downstairs, and my dad calling my name, and by the time I got there the whole hall and living room were full of blood and…and them. Not zombies. Well, yes zombies, but my family was in pieces. And then a zombie came around the corner and I knew. I’ve seen a lot of television shows and stuff about them, and I made the connection and ran. As fast as I could. Just out of the house and down the street, and I didn’t even think twice, I didn’t even look back to see if I was being followed.” He shakes his head and draws his knees to his chest. “And then I was at Yamaguchi’s house. I don’t know what the hell brought me there. He’s kind of the only person I ever really considered a friend, and it took me that much panic to realize that, and that maybe I should’ve treated him better, since he’s put up with my bullshit for so long.”
Daichi should really interrupt. He’s being too self-deprecating for his liking. But if it’s going to help him, to get all this off his chest, he supposes that maybe it’s okay.
Yeah, Sugawara is definitely better at this.
“I thought he was dead. I thought he was dead, and I’d never been more scared in my life. I don’t even know if it was because I’d just seen my family’s bodies in shreds in my house, or comprehending how dangerous the situation was, or knowing I could die at any moment. But when I was outside his house, the last thing I wanted was to walk in there and find him dead, and I was terrified.” Tsukishima takes a moment to remove his glasses – they’re cracked and the left lens is smudged with dirt – and set them on the roof beside him. Daichi feels pity and sympathy bubble up in his chest. “I didn’t open the door until I heard him talking. Well, he wasn’t talking. He was…I don’t know. He was sobbing, I guess. Crying out for help. He’d locked himself in the bathroom and his mom had turned and I don’t even know where his dad was. But his brother was one of them, too, and they were trying to break the door down. I got your text then. Right when I walked into the hall. I didn’t check it until after.
“I called his name, and they both turned and looked at me. Not really…they didn’t really look like they understood, just like they’d heard a noise and thought ‘food.’ I heard him say something from inside the bathroom, like he was surprised. Probably my name, I don’t know, I was too busy backing the fuck away. They went after me. I didn’t want to kill my only friend’s family. But I ended up in the kitchen, and found a knife, and they followed me the whole time while I circled back around to the hallway and tried to just get us both out of there before I had to do it. That was really stupid. Really, really stupid. I almost got him killed because I didn’t want to have to kill something that was already dead. I’d just gotten him out of the bathroom when they caught up. And it wasn’t like he was going to do it. I had the knife, I had the knowledge, and I just fucking stabbed it through their eyes and hoped for the best.
“It worked on his brother. He stopped moving. But his mom just kept coming after us even with the knife stuck in her eye and we ran upstairs to get his brother’s shitty little T-ball bat and I smashed her head in. I smashed someone’s head in with a T-ball bat. Do you have any idea how disgusting that is? He watched me do it. My best friend in the whole damn world watched me bludgeon his mother’s re-animated corpse with a little plastic bat,” he mutters, dragging a hand down his face and blinking up at the dull grey sky. “I thought I’d seen gore at my house. But fuck, you haven’t seen gore until there’s blood and brains on your hands and face. And he was too close, and it was on him, too, and the whole thing was just gross and horrible and I have nightmares about it all the fucking time. And he does, too, and it’s my fault.”
Daichi waits a few moments, not certain he’s finished, but Tsukishima has fallen quiet and is staring hard at the pavement at his feet, arms folded over his legs. He’s just a kid, Daichi reminds himself. Still just a kid. And what the fuck does one say to console a kid in a situation like this? “It wasn’t your fault. It’s not your fault. You did what you had to do to save your friend. If you hadn’t acted, he’d be dead. And he’s grateful for that, I’m sure.”
“His brother was four,” Tsukishima whispers thickly, hands sliding up to cover his head as he presses his face against his knees. “That’s the worst part. I looked at this little undead toddler and thought about how defenseless he would be if he hadn’t been bitten and then stuck a knife in his eye to protect myself.”
Daichi rubs his back the way he’s seen Suga do to the first years a few times. There’s not really an appropriate way to respond to that. Not that he knows of.
Fortunately, he doesn’t have to think of one. “It’s stupid that we’re all fine, the whole damn team, but none of us has a family to speak of,” he continues, lifting his hands so he can turn to look at his captain. There are tears in his eyes. Daichi shifts closer.
“I think…” he pauses to look around at their makeshift camp. “I think we’ve got a pretty good family here, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” Tsukishima murmurs after a moment’s silence. “I do.”
*
Hinata comes scrambling out of his tent at what Daichi guesses is seven in the morning, tugging a shirt over his head as he trips over himself on his way to the tent by the doors. Upon the realization that it’s empty, he turns on his heel and looks around the roof.
“Over here,” Suga calls, light and muted in the foggy air, and waves him over to the corner where he stands guard.
Hinata scurries between tents, past Daichi as he rations old granola bars and stale cereal for breakfast and sets them aside until everyone’s awake; right into Suga’s waiting arms. He’s expressed the greatest fear of the zombies out of anyone on the team. It’s not irrational. If anything, rationality would spawn immobilizing fear of such monsters. But, as with Yamaguchi, he’s improving. He goes out on more patrols, more raids, has killed his share of them in the past few weeks, and Daichi couldn’t be more proud.
That doesn’t mean, of course, that he isn’t still afraid, and he looks to be crying as Suga pets his hair and hugs him tightly.
They sit out on the corner together for some time, talking quietly. The sun finally breaks through the clouds by the time Daichi makes rounds to rouse the rest of the team. He makes sure to stop by Tanaka’s tent last, knowing he needs the extra sleep after a night shift, as does Ennoshita, who had the shift just before him. It’s a damn good thing they share a tent.
Everyone is in some state of disarray when they emerge from their tents. Not that that’s a surprise. Suga will probably have them cleaned and cheered by noon. For now, Daichi exchanges ‘good morning’s and ‘sleep well?’s, handing food to each kid as they approach the supply tent where he sits on a folded blanket surrounded by other seats and cushions. He waits until everyone but Suga and Hinata are seated and yawning and talking tiredly and munching on what little food they have before taking off to the guard post with a breakfast for the three of them.
“Hey,” he says, passing a granola bar to each of them and placing a cracked container with a handful of Cheerios on the ledge between them. “Anything interesting happening?” Hinata’s eyes are still a bit red, so he flashes a warm smile as he takes a seat beside Suga.
Suga shrugs and unwraps the aluminum packaging. He grimaces slightly at the bland crunch of too many months spent uneaten. “Not a single zombie all morning. I think that’s a new record, right Shouyou?”
Hinata munches thoughtfully on the Cheerios for a moment. “Nuh-uh, because remember last month there was a day that none came by from lunch until after bedtime? And none of the ones who did after came close enough to bother us,” he finishes proudly, opening his own granola bar.
He’s right, because back then Daichi had allowed himself the fleeting hope that the threat was subsiding. And he continues to allow the rest of the team to cling to that hope, for cases like Hinata and Yamaguchi, who can’t handle the stress of constant danger as well as Daichi had expected. Which wasn’t much to begin with.
Even now, he sees the spark in Hinata’s eyes at the idea that maybe there are less zombies roaming the streets than there were a few months ago. “Y’know, I’m thinking of taking a patrol out to check the perimeter and maybe go raid the hardware store on the east end. Did you want to come?” he asks around a mouthful of shitty, old cereal.
There’s only slight hesitation before the, “Yeah, totally!” This, if nothing else, is a good sign. But Daichi supposes his next bit of news won’t be so satisfying to the first year.
“I’ll be sending Tobio out on a separate patrol for food, so someone else will be coming with us.”
Hinata hums. “Can we take Kei?”
Well that’s a fucking surprise if Daichi’s ever gotten one. He catches Suga’s astonished look. “I…yeah, sure, uh…why?”
“Oh!” He laughs behind his hand. “Because he’s good at dealing with the zombies. Otherwise I really wouldn’t want to be out there with him.”
Too bad Tsukishima fucking hates everything about killing them. They have no other choice, unfortunately, because an inability to act swiftly and without remorse is fatal. Tsukishima adapts to survive. They all will, eventually, even those who still have qualms with picking up a bat or blade and raising it in self-defence. Daichi nods. “I was considering taking him anyway. Anyone else you want with us?” That’s how it works; the comfort of the younger team members comes first. Typically there are only three people to a patrol, but there can be more if Hinata so desires.
Lessons learnt from Suga. Caretaker extraordinaire. First year handler unlike any other. Second year trainer with no rival. Daichi fucking sucks at such things way more than he ever thought he did, leaving Suga to train him in the art of kouhai-care.
But Hinata shakes his head and grins. “I’m okay with just us three.”
That leaves Nishinoya, Kageyama, and Narita all available for food collection, with others on duty around camp for the day. Daichi voices his plans to his company, pausing when Kageyama approaches them. Speak of the devil and he shall appear.
“Dumbass, come have breakfast with everyone else,” he mumbles as he extends a hand to Hinata, eyebrows drawn together. Social butterfly Hinata doesn’t belong in a corner during community gatherings. He latches onto Kageyama’s hand and smiles at his captain and vice-captain. In turn, Suga passes him the container of cereal.
“Here. Daichi and I already ate some,” he explains when Hinata gives him a quizzical look, head tilted and lips parted. Which is a lie. But Daichi has the same mindset; make sure everyone else is fed. He himself isn’t priority. Sugawara, on the other hand, has been reduced to a pale twig in recent months and Daichi would really prefer it if he got some food in his stomach for once.
He honestly expects him to offer the granola bar as well. He’d have to smack him for that. Not really. He’d have to threaten to smack him for that.
Kageyama and Hinata thank him and continue on their way to rejoin the rest of the team. Daichi frowns at Suga. “Don’t just give away your food like that.”
“Sorry. But technically it wasn’t just mine, and he’s so tiny. He should be the one to eat more.” Suga crumples up the wrapper and stuffs it in the pocket of his sweater. Daichi notices for the first time how full of holes it is. “I haven’t really lost as much weight as some of the other members.”
“That’s wrong. I’m pretty sure you’ve lost the most weight, after Yuu.” He reaches over to tug the sleeves of the hoodie up past his wrists – damn, it’s really thin material, too; doesn’t Suga know how to take care of himself? – and clasp his fingers easily around his forearm. He doesn’t let go, instead turning his arm so he can see the way Daichi’s fingers fit around it and the way the bone of his wrist protrudes sharply. “See? Eat more.”
Suga’s hair falls into his face as he shake his head, smiling. “Too many mouths to feed. Maybe if we ever find somewhere with a constant food supply.”
Maybe. Daichi continues to be amazed by his significant other. ‘Maybe I won’t let myself starve’. “Koushi, what the hell am I gonna do if you let yourself get sick?”
“Ah. Um.” He looks away briefly, fiddling with the scarf. “I mean, I’m perfectly healthy, relative to our current living conditions, so I’m no more likely to get sick than anyone else. And besides, we should be worrying about you. You’ve lost weight, too, and we can’t live without our captain.”
“Seriously, Koushi. We’re both gonna start looking out for ourselves better, then. And don’t lie to the first years about how much you’ve eaten; they don’t know any better,” Daichi pleads, and he’s relieved to see Suga nod. “To start, go put warmer clothes on. I know you brought some back from your last patrol, because you were showing me how thick the pants and jackets were when you got here.”
“See, the second years were complaining that they were cold last week, so I don’t have those anymore,” he says under his breath. The scarf must be one of his warmest articles of clothing, then. Daichi sighs.
“I have a bag of clothes in our tent, too, you know. Use some of those.”
Suga looks surprised. As though he didn’t constantly ask to wear his clothes before all this happened. “Really?”
“What’s mine is yours.”
It turns out that what’s Daichi’s is comically large on Suga. Or, it would be comical, if it weren’t so worrying. His clothes used to be big on him before, but now he's swimming in his smallest t-shirt, and almost lost in his only other hoodie. He sighs. The track pants he's already wearing are okay to keep him warm for now.
“I’ll get you clothes on the way to the hardware store,” he promises as he rolls the sleeves up enough that Suga’s hands aren’t covered, hidden away in the fading warmth of their tent.
He frowns. “I can get some on my next patrol. Don’t go out of your way for me.”
“Koushi, you take damn good care of me, and you have for long enough. It’s about time I started taking care of you, too. And who knows; there could be winter gear in the store. I’ll get you clothes to wear.”
Suga catches his face between his hands and draws him close enough that their lips brush lightly. “We don’t have to wear clothes,” he murmurs, a mischievous smile breaking out on his face. Daichi mirrors it, slipping a hand around the back of his head to kiss him properly.
“We don’t. But, I have a patrol to take out soon. So maybe later,” he says against his lips.
Neither of them mentions that whatever they do later is entirely dependent on the results of Daichi’s time on patrol. Nor do they mention the possibility that he may not return at all. Instead they link hands and wander back outside together to gather and direct their teammates, prepping Daichi’s perimeter and supplies patrol for an extensive journey and Nishinoya’s food collection patrol for a slightly shorter but no less dangerous trip.
Suga, being the vice-captain, is in charge of the camp while Daichi is out. They both spend some extra time in the supply tent deciding what food they can spare to send out with the two groups, and what else can be given to those staying behind for lunch. In the end, it’s the rest of the cereal, hopefully-not-too-old fruit roll ups, and definitely somewhat stale bread. Daichi brings up the idea of hunting in the woods by the mountain, to which Suga nods contemplatively and agrees (so long as no weapons or ammo are lost or wasted in the process).
And that’s that. They’ll try hunting next week, but for now whatever food they collect from stores, apartments, and houses will have to do. Daichi gathers and arms his own patrol while Suga does the same for Nishinoya’s. Asahi and Sugawara drop the rope ladder down one side of the building to allow Daichi and company down to start perimeter check, Tanaka armed with a crossbow keeping an eye out for any zombies during their descent. As Daichi starts down the ladder, he catches sight of Nishinoya hoisting himself over the partition opposite him to drop onto the fire escape below.
Behind Daichi comes Hinata, then Tsukishima, landing on the stack of rotting wood and rocks that make up for the last few metres of space that the ladder doesn’t cover. The ladder will be there with a guard until they come back, then they’ll store it in the supply tent until the next patrol to take the back way goes out. Fortunately, the apartment building on the outskirts really is on the outskirts; there’s a stretch of barren field directly behind it, where no surprises can hide, and beyond that a scraggly grove of fruitless trees. It’s taking the fire escape that’s dangerous, because often, zombies wander out of nearby buildings or come crashing down the alley at the sound or smell of a patrol.
“Alright.” Daichi adjusts the bent katana over his shoulder and the butcher’s knife clipped to his belt. “Ready to go?” As easy as getting to the ground may be, getting into the city may prove difficult. Both of his teammates are looking nervous already. They nod nonetheless.
Good. He wouldn’t let them turn back anyway. It may be important to ensure the comfort of the younger students, but babying them won’t be any help. He smiles and starts off toward the western side of the building to check the integrity of the chain-link fence barricades. If they get some time, they should really reinforce them more, he thinks, but preparing for the seemingly brutal winter that’s on the way is going to be priority for some time.