A/N: It is December 24th and Nyx is a whole year older, and like three months later than when I wanted to start posting. I have finally hit my 80% roughed out point and honestly... Leveler Drabbles is less of a 'story' in the typical sense and more of a collection of somewhat individual events that are related and set to a meandering background plot line riddled with time lapses, so I'm not sure it will be anywhere near the caliber of Level Pair. And yeah... drabbles are typically around 100 words... and exactly zero of my chapters are anywhere near that. I dont think any of them are even close to 1000 words... and I'm sure at least one is probably something like 10000.

If you haven't read Level Pair, I highly recommend so that you will be more up to speed on everything that is happening and not blindsided by occasional mentions of past events. My sincerest apologies for the LONG wait all you wonderful people, I hope what follows makes up for it.

LEVELER DRABBLES; YEAR ONE 1/8 (Providence)

When you realize how perfect everything is, you will tilt your head back and laugh at the sky. ~Gautama Buddha

Koutarou Bokuto steps out onto the porch, stretching his shoulder with a whisper of annoyance, but an easy grin on his face. The way the angled sunlight stretches over the waves in the east combined with the glistening dew still lingering on the beach grass makes his chest swell with anticipation; it is a beautiful morning.

Koutarou loves the way the sun burnishes bronze across his skin in the summers with soft warmth, and he loves the light caress of a breeze over his face. He loves the smell of rain and even the feel of crisp air hitting his lungs in the winter. Koutarou loves the way tired muscles breathe a sigh of relief after a long day, and he loves the slow awareness that overtakes him every morning when he opens his eyes to a new one. He loves a good meal surrounded by people he knows well, and he loves the rush of blood in his veins when his heart does that half skip right before he leaps to swing at a ball. He loves the thrill of a good hit, and he loves the feeling of connection and unity he has with everyone.

Koutarou doesn't know if he's ever been happier to be alive.

More than once, he's tried to pinpoint what exactly he'd done that the universe has swung so much in his favor that he's found himself here. He lives on the beach with Akaashi and the most interesting group of people, and spends his days playing Volley and eating great food surrounded by friends that are more aptly called family than anyone he's related to by blood. He and Akaashi had been part of an owl parl, but it had never felt anything like this.

Koutarou knows where his mother and father are, could find them if he needed them for something, but owls rarely kept in contact with family once they flew the nest. They occasionally congregated in parls if the solitary life was unappealing, but they differed from many other avian groups in that since owls were generally stag by their very nature, when they did team up, groups were often very small and might range from a handful of individuals to perhaps a couple dozen.

But where leaving a large flocking avian group like the Karasuno sentry ranks would often be akin to desertion and treason, an owl parl was more impersonal and individuals could join or leave at will. The catch was that in a parl, you followed the rules to the letter. And one universal rule was emotional distance.

Since owls didn't migrate like many other avians, they bore the brunt of hard winters head on, and in this competitive world when their environment reached for the depths of its harsh limits, compassion could kill you. Emotional distance meant establishing hunting territories and ensuring they were maintained. It meant that avoiding starvation required not forfeiting game to another. It meant survival without the intrusion of empathy for the plight of someone else.

And one way this was often cultivated in parls was by periodic 'hunts' where smaller avians and sometimes even cats were often targeted. Koutarou had been brought along on hunts meant to harden that detachment and reinforce his resolve to survive in the face of anything— even a begging innocent doomed to die. If one could set aside personal reservation and take the life of another, no matter the circumstance, they could survive. Hunts were few and far between, but they were the reason all the same for owls' notorious reputation with various species far and wide.

Koutarou had been fortunate. He'd never been the one striking the killing blow on those brutal pursuits, but he'd found that just being that close to it had both numbed him to the stark reality of death and at the same time, galvanized his desire to never be forced into that type of situation.

The hunts had failed to serve their underlying purpose for Koutarou. On more than one occasion, he'd split a half-starved kill with another despite the dire need for it himself, unable to condemn another to death so that he might live— something that would have gotten him exiled from the parl had anyone found out. Compassion was weakness and a weak member was a vulnerability and a burden.

He'd struggled to come to terms with proper 'owl' mentality for centuries. They were solitary by nature; removing themselves from the plight of others was supposed to be easy. But Koutarou had never been able to view another individual as 'just a life' with complete indifference. He'd legitimately wondered if there was something wrong with him that he failed so spectacularly to do that.

But then Akaashi had shown up in their parl three or four decades ago. The other owl was a slightly smaller subspecies, far more reserved, yet painfully frank on occasion. And he'd hated the hunts just like Koutarou.

The streaked owl had been under scrutiny for several years himself by the time Akaashi had shown up, and when he'd displayed the same tendency to withdraw and go through the motions on hunts that Koutarou did, the parl had reacted and issued an ultimatum. They'd paired him up with Akaashi under the guise of an initiation for the other owl, and told them not to return without a pair of avian wings.

Koutarou had been nearly sick at the prospect. It was one thing to take and kill an animal for sustenance, but to kill simply to take a life and buffer that mental detachment had twisted his gut every time. An avian could survive without their wings, but a grounded avian was often likened to a bird having lost its heart or soul; it was widely considered kinder to kill a grounded avian than leave them to linger in their crippled state, even by owl standards.

At first, he'd desperately hoped that Akaashi was merely uninterested in the hunts, but entirely capable of taking out an innocent. He hadn't said anything to the other owl beyond the bare minimum of what was required as they selected a target, pursued, and cornered it. He'd sincerely wished Akaashi would make a move before he could stop and question Koutarou's hesitance. Once the little female starling they'd honed in on was dead, Koutarou knew he'd have had less issue following through with the task; he'd waver up until that point because she was still saveable. Once all life left her body, there would be no further chance to back out… but he'd frantically hoped he wouldn't have to be the one to take it from her.

Looking back, he honestly doesn't know if he could have.

They'd been closing in on her, her dark eyes darting around wildly with terror, her pretty speckled wings fluttering with agitation, and Koutarou had been furiously trying to quiet his roiling gut when Akaashi had stopped flat with a dark look on his face.

"Fuck this." He'd muttered and turned on a heel and leapt back into the sky. Koutarou had stood there for several moments before scrambling after him, leaving the starling to escape and quiet her impending panic attack on her own.

"Oi. What are you doing?" He'd asked and Akaashi had flashed him a fierce glare.

"Leaving. Get lost, you streaked pigeon."

Koutarou had blinked at him before a scowl crossed his face.

"You prick, I'm older than you. Show at least a little respect." He'd grouched. Akaashi had turned away from him.

"Don't care. Scram."

Koutarou's brow had furrowed with annoyance but he'd opted to forgo a juvenile volley of insults.

"Hey. We can't go back without a pair of wings, you know." He'd said instead.

"You mean you can't. I'm not going to kill some poor sap because they want 'proof' of my ability to 'survive'. I'm entirely capable without having to demonstrate my worth. I've been on my own for several centuries; I can do it again just fine." He'd growled. The streaked owl had blinked at him once more.

"You mean… you aren't gonna go back? Because you didn't want to kill her?" He'd asked, his chest feeling compressed. He'd never dreamed that someone else might struggle with this, too.

"For no real reason? No. That's demented." He'd murmured as if Koutaro's question were the stupidest of the year. Koutarou had nearly stalled out in midair in a bewildering combination of shock and elation.

There had been someone else like him. He'd had to push his wings to catch up.

"Eh— where are you going?"

"Away from here. Didn't I tell you to shove off? Why are you following me?" The other owl had asked with irritation. Koutarou had simply grinned.

"I'll come with you."

"What? No, you aren't. 'On my own' doesn't lend itself to company." Akaashi had said with annoyance, but Koutarou was undeterred.

"I'll lend you mine." He'd said only to earn a flat look from the other owl.

It had been the start of an amusingly antagonistic relationship that had grown into so much more. They'd drifted along across the landscape together, the years only strengthening their friendship until they were nearly inseparable by the time they'd stumbled upon Hinata, Kenma, and the beach crew.

Koutarou doesn't think he will ever regret the choice to join the other owl or that chance meeting.

Koutarou loves living, but he also loves life. He loves the turn of seasons and everything they bring. He loves seeing plants burgeon green and flowering in spring to bear fruit in summer and burn golden red in fall. He even treasures the peaceful silence often brought in the depths of winter. He loves seeing the vast array of wildlife and people that surround them, each with their own glorious uniqueness. He marvels at the stealth of a cat like Kuroo or Kenma or the cunning of a fox, and he admires the agile adeptness of the smaller avian races like Yachi and even the crows.

It doesn't matter that cats and foxes can't fly or that buntings and crows will never have physical power to rival his own. Everything has its own strengths and weaknesses, and they are all stunning. There is so much beauty in the world around him, and to destroy any of it needlessly seems like such a waste. That sentiment was something the other owl shared.

Akaashi had stalwartly refused to fly to any other rhythm except his own, and it had given Koutarou the inspiration to carve his own future, no matter how far he deviated from accepted 'owl' norm. When Koutarou thinks about points in his life, they are always in reference to 'before meeting Akaashi' and 'after meeting Akaashi', because the two realities are so far apart, he can barely believe they are both part of his life. For Koutarou, he feels like his outlook has done nothing but brighten since he'd met the other owl and if he has his way, Akaashi will never escape him.

The streaked owl flinches, his thoughts broken as he pulls his arm across himself to stretch that shoulder a little further. They've been doing the same thing pretty much day in and day out for the last year, so he has no idea why he still gets random sore muscles sometimes.

It's been a year last month since he and Akaashi landed a permanent residence with the beach crew, and the one constant since then has been Volley. They'd played in the wind where every hit had been a gamble. They'd played in light rain that made the sand stick to the ball only to jostle off into their faces with every touch— the setters had hated those days and Kenma had flatly refused to play at all. Koutarou's pretty sure that he and a couple others wouldn't have cared about the encroaching cold as winter set in, but Kuroo had put the kibosh on that as soon as the temperature dropped to where it was dangerous to sweat during outdoor play… which had led to a mad quest for another place to play until spring.

It was Daichi who'd returned home a week later with the solution. A local agricultural farm owned by a man named Takeda offered up a hay barn for their game and even though it was smaller than their sand pitch, they'd jumped at it. It was out of the cold and Ittetsu Takeda was wonderfully amenable and Kuroo had been satisfied, so they could generally be found there if they weren't doing other things as the world had frosted over.

But real life did intrude just a bit… as food and amenities grew more scarce, they'd been forced to resort to other means to get by. Suga's relatives in town had migrated once again, and the crew had managed the shop which helped significantly, but things had still been tight sometimes.

Koutarou and Akaashi ended up working on the docks to help keep everything upright— although it was more that Koutarou couldn't stand the shop, and Akaashi had joined him because 'someone had to keep an eye on him'. There was nothing wrong with it specifically, Koutarou just couldn't stand being inside all the time, winter weather be damned.

He and Akaashi had continued to work off and on at the docks even after spring returned because he liked the bustle and activity. Perhaps that's why he's sore now; he and Akaashi did unload a big cargo ship yesterday, and the other owl had begged off this morning in favor of sleeping till noon.

He leans on the railing, rubbing the stiff muscles and eyeing the teams playing down the beach at the net.

Kenma is setting for Tsukishima, Asahi, and Daichi while Noya runs back row for them, the libero chattering at the former sentry leader about going somewhere; it doesn't surprise the streaked owl that the golden cat is up this early. Kenma dislikes being active in the high heat of the day so it makes sense that he's playing now. On the net's other side, Kageyama sets for Tanaka and Hinata with Suga on back line. Really, everyone has come into their own playing Ground Volley, each person developing their own strengths.

The sullen ibis had seemed to find some twisted inspiration when the rest of the Karasuno group had shown up. Koutarou hypothesizes that the way Kageyama suddenly had a full team that instantly rallied around him with such a refined respect for his capabilities after Tsukishima had done nothing but harass him all summer long had lit a proverbial fire under the blond. Either way, Tsukishima has become a monster of a blocker who reads hits well and times his responses almost perfectly, taking particular pleasure whenever he blocks a hit that comes off one of Kageyama's tosses.

Asahi has a scary powerful spike and both he and Yamaguchi can nail dynamite serves; Koutarou has chased more than one ball into the surf after he'd botched the receive. Daichi is steady, fairly well rounded and excellent support in any situation. He can hit a solid line drive spike and is one of the better individuals for receiving as well.

Though as far as that goes, the little crow, Noya, is a beast in the back row. He'd taken to not using his wings in a matter of days, the first of the Karasuno group to go without ropes. He's a godsend for whichever side has him and scrimmage matches often have to be carefully stacked to even out the imbalance the smallest crow can create almost by himself.

Then there's Kuroo and Kenma, who've played ground volley longer than any of them and know the game inside and out. Either one of them is a powerful asset in their own right and as Koutarou eyes the way the teams have set up, he almost wants to call them out for loading their side. They have Kenma setting, the defensive safety of Noya aided by the versatile Daichi, the strike power of Asahi, and the powerhouse blocking capabilities of Tsukishima all on one side.

He would say something… except the other side has Kageyama and Hinata.

The two rarely play on opposite sides and are so fluent together that they are nearly always a viable threat. Hinata's enthusiasm and speed paired with Kageyama's accuracy makes them a dangerously hard combination to track and counter. The pair alone is probably the single biggest offset to Noya's uncanny receiving ability. They are backed by Suga who is also well rounded like Daichi, but with the added capability of setting to free up Kageyama to hit once in a while. The thrush is calm and stable in games, a level head even in a tight spot.

But if he's the epitome of easygoing control, Tanaka is the very definition of uninhibited.

Brash and often feral, his athletic capability is one for the books… but that talent is tempered by inexperience and lack of refinement. Koutarou had butted heads with the bald crow a bit at first and Tanaka had taken the longest by far of any of them to achieve playing without wings— he'd still been in ropes months after he'd arrived. His wild attacks are never the same despite their frightening power. It was like Asahi, but with a fraction of the precision.

Koutarou smirks just a bit. Tanaka could be abrasive and bluntly critical of new people, but his heart was golden. There are several tendencies in the bald crow that make Koutarou think that given another century to mellow out, he'll eventually be a lot like Kuroo.

The door opens behind him and Lev stumbles out beside him looking only half awake. The tall cat was more like Kenma and prone to be up early; Akaashi being the exception this morning, Kuroo is usually the last one up, his manic bedhead absolutely hilarious. Koutarou's smirk turns to a grin as he nods to the yawning set of ears beside him before heading down to the sand pitch to join in.

Speaking of juvenile experience…

The grey cat is perhaps the only one who can consistently out jump Tsukishima, but he's pretty much a 'glass cannon' in the streaked owl's humble opinion. He can dominate at the net, but where he and the Karasuno unit had had their previous Volley experience to transfer to the ground game, Lev has only been playing for the last year and his back line ability is pitiful at best.

Koutarou rolls his shoulder once more and weighs the strengths on both sides of the net before shrugging and heading for the younger level pair's end on a whim.

A flash of white tipped wing as Kageyama spins to follow the receive makes him smirk. The odd white edging on the last few flight feathers on each of the setter's wings had appeared with his molt last fall and had quickly become a razzing point for the crow prince among their beach abode, but Bokuto had enthusiastically congratulated him as another bi-colored avian. He had silver streaked hair, and white tipped wings weren't that different, right?

He claps once at Kageyama and the ibis across the net scoffs at the rude bid for a toss, but the crow setter's next one comes his way without a hitch in game play. He lines up and hits and not for the first time, he feels the hairs on his arms rise at how perfectly the ball sails to the exact spot he'll swing through. Tsukishima calls it 'creepy', and Koutarou kind of has to agree, but that's not to say he doesn't enjoy getting to hit them— each one of Kageyama's tosses is a trip.

On some level, he envies the small redhead, but could never be sullen with the little spiker.

There is a place in his heart carved out in a perfect 'Hinata' shape; without that little redhead, he's not so sure he and Akaashi would ever have found and come to call this place 'home'. Where the others had all reacted in typical fashion to a pair of owls showing up, Hinata had seen an opportunity. He'd seen Bokuto's rife fascination not as aggression, but as the rabid single minded curiosity that it was.

Koutarou had felt the small spiker's quiet admiration within a few hours of meeting the beach crew, had been gratified when it had given way to full blown verbal diarrhea and ecstatic compliments that made the streaked owl's gut warm in happy content, the first of many, many instances since. It wasn't lost on him that this bright little mass of enthusiasm had seen hardship the likes of which he'd been ordered to dish out to a certain starling in the past; he'd been all the more glad that he hadn't been able to follow through.

And the more he'd gotten to know the small redhead, the more privileged he felt to have met him, and by extension, all of the others. The kid was stupidly optimistic, ever sunny and upbeat, yet attentive to those around him. He was such a vibrating ball of energy, he and Bokuto could quite literally feed off of each other in almost any instance— even if they were on opposite sides of a Volley net. Honestly, the kid's enthusiasm had been enough to make it easy to shrug off the initial reception they'd encountered in Sheru Bay itself, it could boost Bokuto's mood that much.

Hinata could get so excited over the smallest things… like the day a few weeks back when he'd brought home a shirt from the docks, fresh off one of the merchant ships. He'd showed it to the small spiker who'd snatched it and nearly fallen over himself in his mad dash to show the crow setter.

"Kageyama! Kagayama, look!" He'd babbled in his typical loud exuberance, holding the garment out. Feathers had looked up from where he was stretching on the porch with an eyebrow cocked in wary focus.

"What are you freaking out about now?" He'd asked, his brow furrowing with a mild scowl. The redhead had held the top up in front of him for emphasis, his eyes snapping with fire and his avidity not diminished in the least.

"It's a shirt!"

The crow setter had blinked at it before finding the redhead's gaze with a flat look.

"I can see that. What's with the low front?" He'd murmured and Koutarou had gotten the keen sense that he'd asked about the style simply to humor the bouncing little spiker, not because he was actually interested. Hinata was wholly undeterred.

"That's not the front, Kageyama." He'd said with a grin.

It had taken the crow setter a few seconds to process that and then his brows had risen with surprise, his attention piqued. And as Hinata had turned the shirt to better show it to the other boy, Koutarou had seen it dawn on Kageyama.

"The low back allows freedom of movement for wings and a lot less hassle getting it on and off. No more slits to mess around with, and there won't be any awkward fit or rubbing against the wing base. Kageyama, this is a shirt specifically designed for avians!" Hinata'd chattered happily. The setter had looked at it with new focus, the redhead's elation infectiously lighting his face with quiet intrigue. The shirts had been such a hit with every avian, that Koutarou had had to bring home a crate of them.

It was just one more example of how much he and Akaashi had integrated into the menagerie of individuals that live at the beach house.

When the beach crew had seamlessly allowed the owls in on their most closely guarded secret last summer— the redhead and crow setter being a level pair, Koutarou had felt a surreal sense of awe and belonging that he'd never experienced before at the trust they'd placed in them, a pair of owls. The cats and avians had continued to welcome them from that point, fully sharing everything without reservation, and with each new little detail like a gift that demonstrated the solidarity that was extended for them, Koutarou had felt his entire being swell with joy.

It was something else the streaked owl had instantly loved, and almost overnight, that camaraderie and confidence had become something he knew he would never betray.

Koutarou blinks as the redhead materializes beside him at the net, his hand already swinging to meet the incoming ball. As it snaps past Tsukishima, Koutarou has to smile. The dynamic level pair is on their game today. They bicker frequently, and even argue now and then— particularly when Hinata wants to go into Sheru Bay and Feathers is made to stay back, but Koutarou wonders if he and Akaashi could ever achieve their level of subconscious connection.

A small smile tips his mouth; the streaked owl is content regardless and it is enough that he gets to be a part of all this.

They go through the ritualistic motions just as they breath: receive, toss, hit, cover, block, repeat. It's so familiar that Koutarou doubts they even have to think about it. Tsukishima spikes a toss that ricochets off Suga's arms, and before the thrush has a chance to head after it, the redhead is buzzing by him to retrieve it.

"So how 'bout it, Daichi? It's been a year, they called off the searches for Kageyama and Hinata last summer; I doubt they'd hold them out much more for us." Noya says, still pushing whatever angle he'd been on about earlier.

"In order to even have a chance of getting into the rookery, you'd have to do it at night." Daichi sounds weary of the conversation despite the small smile he wears.

"Sounds good to me." Noya grins and the larger crow's smile tweaks, his gaze pinching at the corners of his eyes. Koutarou's been around them all long enough to know when the former sentry leader is getting irritated.

"That would require you getting past any garrisoned units. You have any idea what might happen if you get caught?" He rumbles lightly, but the streaked owl can hear the weight under it, the warning not to push.

"Noya, Daichi's right, it'd probably be dangerous." Asahi tries, but the shortest crow ignores him and stares right back at Daichi with brazen focus, a challenge.

"Don't you remember what it was like when we didn't know what happened to them?" He asks, jerking a thumb toward Kageyama and Hinata as he returns with the ball. "It sucked… and it might be nice to at least put them at ease."

"Noya—"

"You think they will be at ease if you are being interrogated?" Daichi asks fiercely, his smile brittle as he cuts across the redhead, and Koutarou wonders distractedly what kind of place they came from where interrogated sounded akin to a death sentence.

"We won't be caught. We got this in the bag. We have Kuroo, remember?" The short crow says confidently, refusing to back down.

"You'd put all of us in danger, Nishinoya. No." Daichi says, his smile slipping away and the streaked owl is struck with the uncomfortable desire to be just about anywhere else. Daichi seriously angry is a frightening and uncommon sight.

"What if Yamaguchi and I went?"

Everyone turns to stare at the blond by the net who watches them all as if their squabbles bore him.

"Sorry?" Daichi asks with a frown.

"You want your friends and family or whatever to know you are alright, correct? Since you guys are blacklisted from the rookery and Yamaguchi and I are no one, we could go."

There's a long moment of silence that stretches around them before Kageyama breaks it with a scowl.

"Why would you do something like that for us?" He asks suspiciously and the ibis turns to him with a brow cocked.

"Aww, it's cute that you think it's for you. Actually, Yamaguchi wanted to see it. We were headed there before we ran into you guys and ended up on this neurotic detour. We've still been talking about going sometime; it simply seemed logical to offer."

"You arrogant—" Kageyama's insult is slaughtered in it's infancy by Suga's instant iron grip on his shoulder, the thrush's fingers sinking into his trap muscle with white knuckles.

"It is a generous offer and you are most kind to consider our situation. What do you think Daichi?" The grey haired setter asks lightly, his easy expression and relaxed tone at odds with the definition in the arm that still gags Kageyama with a thumb against a pressure point.

The former sentry leader turns toward the small crow.

"Will that satisfy you?" He asks wearily, seeking approval from the libero. Noya turns toward the blond with a skeptical look.

"...I guess. Rather go myself, but whatever. I'll agree, but you have to come back and tell us how they are. If you won't do that then I'm not playing on your side anymore." The ibis raises a brow, unimpressed.

"We'll consider it."

Koutarou smirks at Noya's excellent success in getting the ibis to bend. If a certain crow were to find out about the blond's half-promise to return, the streaked owl is positve they will be back. He'll have to make a point to mention this exchange to Yamaguchi.

He grins as the game starts up again with a few half-assed quips back and forth between the shortest and tallest two people on the sand court. He loves the banter and the companionship and the eagerness he wakes with in the morning— he really does love life. If he could, he'd make this the norm for the rest of his.

He'll have to rack his brain and figure out how the universe keeps a tally on karma, because when the world decides he's overdue for a 'royally fucked' moment, it would be nice to know how to get back here.

A/N: Okay. I'll be honest… i initially set a monumentally unrealistic goal of posting sequel chapters a couple weeks after I finished Level Pair because I thought they would be as easy as the rest of it. Please allow me to grovel out an apology for that bit of nonsense and the extra LONG wait. Nyx is an idiot.

Cue my inevitable idiotic writer optimism coming back to bite me. I didn't really have much of a story line or clear cut scenes to go for a sequel and it sorta started out as just little oneshots which i thought would be much easier to hash out… except they weren't. I was turning out 2-3 chaps a day on level pair when i roughed it out and it's been taking me like 2-3 days per chap on the drabbles (hah, again, not even remotely drabbles). And I'd assumed it wouldn't really be much more than like 10 chapters, but hey, i got *INSPIRATION* at the two week mark when I'd initially wanted to start posting.

Oh, and it's embarrassing and I'm still salty with myself, but I committed a capital writer error. Like lethal writer error. Like all writers should shame me because I've been writing for a decade and should know this by now.

In order to keep myself from working on it at work, I was writing on a document on my laptop. Logical way to not get fired, right? Well, document froze and i was like 'oh, not an issue, autosave is my friend'. Except 'Autosave' jumped ship like four chapters back and I didn't know it. I placed faith in a word program to autosave my shit and lost a week's worth of work. Which, for anyone curious, is a total motivation killer. But no worries… I rewrote them and they are *cough* 'mostly' the same, I just lost another week. So yeah, I'm pretty sure there's supposed to be a lesson here…

Anyway, at the rate it's going, it might rival Level Pair in length. Thank you certain small redheaded character(s), you have buried me in this freaking fandom. I think I'm sitting at 25 chapters, possibly more and most of them are roughed out, but no promises my daily updates will always be daily (I'm so sorry, but this REALLY didn't wright as cleanly as Level Pair and I'm far less confident in it, so I imagine everything will have like 5 rewrites which is time consuming).

I look forward to posting for you all again and I hope I can make it as interesting as the last set. Hope your holiday season is going spectacular so far; have an awesome night you guys.