The sunset cast an ominous red tinge over the horizon as it settled beyond the hills west of Yukigaoka City. Haikyu's stern Prime Minister, Tobio Kageyama, peeked at the clouds through the arching windows of a lavish living room that belonged to the Deputy PM, Toru Oikawa. The manor's glamorous owner sipped a wineglass dry with a satisfied sigh as he lounged in an armchair in front of a sparkling, glass-topped coffee table. Kageyama let the curtain fall and plopped into the sinking cushion of an armchair opposite his cohort. Oikawa chuckled for no apparent reason as he set the empty glass on the table and beamed.

"Quite the eve, don't you think?" he said as if he could read the prime minister's mind. "And fireworks tomorrow to celebrate."

Celebrate they would: 18 months since the death of dictator Wakatoshi Ushijima, known to the people as Ushiwaka, and also the expected culmination of weeklong negotiations between the nation of Haikyu and their longtime rival, Kitagawa. Six months ago, after winning the first free elections in 35 years, the unlikely President Hinata's first proposal was to break the stalemate with their western neighbor by mutually decommissioning part of their ballistic missile stockpiles. It was a landmark step towards peace hailed by the international community and beloved by the citizens seeking something fresh in the wake of the country's brutal past.

And Hinata certainly was a breath of fresh air: energetic, charismatic, popular with the young and forward-thinking, and somehow shrewder than he let on. Kageyama once dreamed he would lead the liberated nation. As a general in the Aoba Johsai Liberation Army, he fought many battles alongside Oikawa, but it was the Karasuno Popular Front under the late General Ikkei Ukai who launched the final assault on Shiratorizawa, Ushiwaka's stronghold, and killed the cowering despot. After he saw Hinata's rise in popularity, Tobio abandoned his own path to power through the AJLA's postwar incarnation as the Seijoh Reform Party and joined the Karasuno Party.

"That must be a really nice daydream, Tobio," Toru joked. Tobio blushed. He had drifted off thinking about the discussions happening 150 miles to the west in the resort town of Tokonami, five miles from the Kitagawan border and where the Kitagawan embassy was provisionally located. Oikawa had invited Kageyama over for drinks, but Kageyama elected to stay sober until all was assured.

"Tell me, Tobio. What would you do if Hinata suddenly weren't president?" Oikawa, liking to wax philosophical, spontaneously asked.

"You mean, if he were overthrown?" Tobio clarified, as he tried to realistically ponder the question.

Oikawa, dressed in a fine suit, making faces in the dish of the wineglass, spoke as if the glass were Kageyama himself.

"Mhm. You know full well some people aren't happy with him." Toru lifted the glass and admired its base, avoiding all eye contact with the prime minister. Although the Aoba Johsai Liberation Army, Karasuno Popular Front, and Nekoma Resistance Front shared equal credit for victory in the six-month civil war, most of the major posts in Hinata's government and military had gone to Karasuno alumni, leading some of the others to feel marginalized. "I trust them, and I know they can do the job," the 25-year-old president once explained to the 31-year-old Kageyama. Hinata's deal with Kitagawa also raised some eyebrows, as many even within Shoyo's own party thought it a dangerous weakening of the nation.

"That's their problem," Tobio spouted. Oikawa grinned jocularly. Truth was Kageyama had an uneasy feeling about tonight, and he also feared Oikawa—a good friend of his from the Seijoh days—might have a differing opinion on the subject.

Kageyama rose and peeked out the curtains again. His heart skipped a beat when he noticed a strange sight outside.

Soldiers. Several of them, fanning out through the garden. Their black and orange uniforms clearly identified them as belonging to the Haikyu Army.

"Toru, those aren't your bodyguards, are they?" Kageyama inquired.

Oikawa shifted the other drape aside and beheld the same sight. There was no reason to discuss it; they knew exactly what was going on. They were being surrounded.


Keishin Ukai took another whiff of his cigarette as the reddish halo vaporized into a sea of black. It was 7:30pm on a Friday night. This was his time to relax and be by himself. General Ukai, whose grandfather led Karasuno during the civil war and had suffered a fatal heart attack three months ago, was still uncomfortable in his role as Chief of Staff of the Haikyu Army, a job he was pushed into because of family ties, and he had no interest in dealing with his insistent visitor tonight. But alas, 2nd Army commander General Kuroo was en route to complain about yet something else. Ukai wanted another cigarette, he thought.

His secretary's intercom came over with the announcement of Tetsuro Kuroo's arrival. The confident young officer had led the Nekoma Resistance Front, one of various rebel units that spouted up after Ushiwaka bombed protesters, and was the only general not from Karasuno to obtain command of an army in the new administration. Tonight, Kuroo's uniform was spotless, impeccable in fact, compared to Ukai's shabby, un-ironed cuffs and tar-stained jacket.

"What is it, Kuroo?" Ukai rebuffed, stretching his arms over his head and extinguishing his cigarette.

"I have an urgent question for you, General," began Kuroo.

"And it couldn't wait till morning?" Ukai, his chest to the sunset, glanced over his shoulder at Kuroo.

"General, tomorrow the deal will be signed eliminating half of our missile capabilities. How do you feel about that?"

"You know exactly how I feel about it. It's a fool's errand. We've no guarantee Kitagawa will hold up their end of the bargain, and it will weaken our military beyond belief."

Kuroo slammed his fist on Ukai's oak desk violently. "You know all this, and you still acceded?!"

Ukai spun threateningly around. "What else could I do? The man's determined to change this country, no matter how much he screws us over."

"And what if some people made a move to save the country?" Kuroo slyly inquired.

The room fell silent as a stoic Ukai glared at his subordinate's devilish grin. Though he didn't want to believe it, he had a feeling he knew where this was going. And Ukai knew his answer to the question too. He lit another cigarette.

Casually Ukai walked around his desk until wriggling himself in front of Kuroo's chair, one palm on the table behind him to prop himself up, the other hand levitating the cigarette as it steamed peacefully.

"If some people tried to use force to prevent this deal from happening…" Ukai took another whiff of his cig and leaned close to Kuroo. "…I'd have every one of them shot." He casually blew a cloud of tobacco and nicotine over Kuroo's visage. The 2nd Army general failed to flinch. Instead, he beamed evilly.

"I was afraid you'd say that," he chuckled. "Too bad you don't need the moon to see at night."

Ukai felt the abstract remark was a signal, and he got his answer when the doors to his office burst open. Keishin snarled. If he had thought ahead, he would not have positioned himself out of reach of his gun holster lying in his chair or the revolver in his desk drawer. It was too late now. Two soldiers led by Kuroo's subordinate, 11th Division commander Lieutenant-General Takanobu Aone, had Ukai at gunpoint. The very fact they were here meant Kuroo's men had already taken over the headquarters.

"Curse you, Kuroo," Ukai shuddered, letting his cigarette fall to the ground and stomping on it. Unfortunately, Ukai had been too lazy to appoint a deputy chief of staff, meaning in his incapacitation there was no one who would automatically command the nation's military. He had only one hope: that Haikyu's best and most talented general would step in and save the country before it was too late. "Whatever your plan," Ukai growled as the soldiers proceeded to detain their superior officer, "Sugawara won't play along."

Kuroo laughed raucously. "Oh, don't worry, Keishin," he answered, dropping all formality. "I've got my own plans for dealing with Suga."


Night had already befallen Yukigaoka City, but in the pristine, southwestern city of Tokonami, President Shoyo Hinata propped himself on a balcony railing as he enjoyed the crisp, seaside air of the bay at dusk. Haikyu was bordered by two countries, Kitagawa to the west and Miyagi to the east, with the north and south fronting ocean. Visible across the inlet on a clear day were the shores of Kitagawa , and Hinata took full pride in the fact that tomorrow he would have made their countries closer. Beside him, his secretary Yachi sat in a lounge chair with a notepad, ever ready to receive dictation. Lieutenant Yuu Nishinoya, as Captain of the Presidential Guard, obsessively scanned nearby rooftops and balconies for assassins. Hinata had elected to stay at the traditional Black Crow Hotel near downtown. Formerly known as the White Eagle Hotel, the lavish Ushiwaka would often take over the whole building for vacations, but as if contrasting himself with his predecessor, Hinata elected for a simple room on the fifth floor. It was a security nightmare for Nishinoya's staff, but Shoyo insisted that he couldn't bear to stay in any of the luxurious venues recommended to him. That kind of passionate idealism was part of Hinata's charm in Yachi's eyes.

Below them a cat dove at a murder of crows pecking at trash, scaring the flock into flight. The collective wind of their wings rustled the hair of the trio on the balcony when the door slid open ahead of foreign minister Tsukishima.

"Ambassador Nakashima and I have resolved the last details. I'll just need you to sign off on them, Mr. President," he reported. Hinata's face lit up. At last, after five days of grueling back-and-forth, the arms pact was complete. Tomorrow, 18 months after the end of the Haikyu Civil War, Hinata will have made the country a safer place with a brighter future. Shoyo jumped with jubilation like a child, making the fickle Yachi laugh. Even Nishinoya neglected his paranoia of snipers to admire his president's youthful optimism.

When the crack ripped through the air, Noya realized he never should have taken his eyes off the rooftops.

Shoyo clasped his right shoulder and collapsed on a table, knocking it over and making Yachi scream. Tsukishima dived at the leader as Noya's head jerked to try and find the source of the sniper shot. Black crow feathers floated around him—the bullet having cut through one of the unlucky birds—but even so, the "Libero" as he was known in the war distinctly spotted a man with smooth silver hair ducking behind the eaves atop an apartment complex.

Tsukishima's desperate screams snapped Noya out of his momentary anger, and immediately they carried Shoyo inside onto the queen bed. Yachi sobbed uncontrollably as she closed the balcony door and curtains on Noya's orders. It was hoped that a regular hotel room might actually be less conspicuous, but the media made a huge deal of Hinata's modest accommodation. Now the future of Haikyu was in jeopardy as blood dribbled from the orange-haired president's shoulder onto the comforter.

"Kei, watch him," Noya barked and left the room, immediately alerting his soldiers to the security breach. Tsukishima shoved a hand towel Yachi grabbed from the bathroom on Hinata's wound. A minute ago, Kei was grateful that the long hours of dealing with envoys and military reps were over. Now that pained gasping and frantic bodyguards filled the space, Haikyu's foreign minister wished he could have 12 more days of those dull meetings instead.