It was late, and though the deal he had with his family dictated that he worked mornings at the Sakanoshita Store so he could coach volleyball in the afternoons, seeing his grandmother behind the counter past eleven p.m. triggered some familial responsibility in him, and he offered to close up the shop. She'd been grateful and called him a good grandson so he didn't regret it, but the asshole who was wasting time aimlessly browsing had Keishin Ukai's brow twitching in irritation. He usually tried to avoid kicking people out for closing if he could help it, but he'd wanted to close over fifteen minutes ago.

The team had likely all made it home and were in their beds by now–at least they'd better be. He knew Hinata and Kageyama tended to stay at least an hour after to practice their quicks, but with a practice match against Nekoma in the morning, he hoped they'd had the sense to turn in early–then again, this was Hinata and Kageyama, and their senses when it came to anything that wasn't volleyball–things like school, things like sleep–were significantly lacking. They were a pair of volleyball otaku that would play through the night if you let them. He hoped for their sakes that they'd headed home with everyone else, because if they'd left at their usual time, then it was likely the rain had caught them. He could hear it still, pounding away at the roof.

Even if his reckless first-years didn't appreciate sleep, Ukai certainly did, and this one customer just wasn't leaving.

"Sumimasen," said Ukai. "I'm afraid I have to close up, soon." He did feel a little bad, with the rain, but he couldn't wait indefinitely for it to stop.

The man grinned, and there was something in that smile and lax posture that Ukai didn't like. "Of course," he said, going back to browsing, not hurrying in the slightest. He grabbed a pack of snacks off the rack, read it, and tossed it haphazardly back on the wrong shelf.

Ukai heard the shop door open and spun, desperate at this point, because they had to leave early and he was tired. "We're closed," he said, but the words died in his mouth as panic rose.

Hinata stood in the doorway, soaked to the bone and shivering, with bloody scrapes across his hands, arms, and legs, his dripping bag draped over his shoulder.

"Hinata!" he said, scrambling from behind the counter to the tiny middle blocker, suddenly grateful beyond belief for the asshole in the snack aisle that had stalled the closing of his family's shop. Whatever that man picked out, Ukai would give it to him for free.

His hands found Hinata's shoulders as he looked him over. "Did someone do this to you?" he asked, his mind automatically going to the worst of places because Hinata was small, and young, and if someone wanted to overpower him they could, so easily–

Hinata looked dazed. "I crashed my bike."

He crashed his bike. Ukai wasn't sure if that made him feel better or worse.

"The rain," said Hinata, rambling, "I couldn't see. I guess they couldn't see me either, because they ran me off, and I sort of couldn't… on the hill, I couldn't…"

"You were run off the road?" said Ukai, horrified.

"I'm okay," said Hinata, "I think…"

"You're bleeding."

"I, uh," Hinata looked down at himself, as if just noticing, "I had to leave my bike."

Ukai took a knee and examined the scrapes. They told a story of being thrown to the pavement, of sliding and rolling across the asphalt. They were angry and red, and the lingering rainwater was tinged pink as it dripped down to stain the lip of his socks. He grabbed Hinata's hands, looking closely at his scraped palms, part of him torn between relief that they weren't that bad, and worry over the temperature of his fingers. "You're freezing," he said.

Hinata's clothes clung to him, heavy and dripping, and his orange hair was a sopping mass plastered to his head, dripping into his eyes. "I had to leave my bike," he said again, still shivering. "Is… is that okay? That I came here?"

"Of course it's okay!" But the shivering wasn't. The bleeding wasn't. "I've got a first aid kit in the back," he said, turning away. "A blanket, too. Wait here."

Hinata nodded, setting his bag down in the growing puddle on the floor and clutching his arms around himself for extra warmth as Ukai disappeared into the back.

Hinata thought of his bike, his poor bike, left misshapen and broken on the side of the road with its front wheel bent and a missing pedal. He'd wanted to take it with him, but dragging it would have slowed him down, would have kept him on a dangerous curving road with too many blind spots and low visibility from the rain. He'd been about halfway home, already a quarter of the way up the mountain, when the car had come from around the bend too quickly, too recklessly, too close to his side of the road –

Soaked and bleeding with a broken bike and a broken phone, Hinata had set off back down the mountain. He'd found himself outside Ukai's shop without consciously realizing where he'd been heading.

He was cold and the scrapes stung and his limbs ached, but he was fine. He was fine, plenty fine enough for their practice match against Nekoma. He'd been looking forward to it for weeks, and if Ukai even tried to bench him he would have Kageyama throw him ten tosses just to prove that he could spike even if his hands were a little beat up.

He was fine. Probably.

He loved playing against Kenma, and ever since their training camp, even Tsukishima seemed to get fired up for their matches. Hinata had a strong feeling that it had less to do with his love for the sport and everything to do with Kuroo snickering every time Tsukishima missed a block. Tsukishima wanted to win out of spite.

There was movement in a nearby aisle and Hinata jumped. He hadn't realized there was anybody else in the shop. The man was tall, his posture slumped, with his hands in his pockets. He was staring at Hinata.

Hinata gave a small bow in greeting.

The man's lips stretched into a smile. "Konbanwa," he said in greeting, his voice low.

Hinata stiffened, but the man was being polite, so he returned a small, "Konbanwa."

The man returned to browsing, but he was gradually making his way down the aisle, getting closer. He hadn't done or said anything inappropriate, but there was a chill running up the back of Hinata's neck that was unrelated to the deep cold that had settled into his bones from the rain.

Ukai was just in the back room. There was no reason to feel uneasy. There was no reason–

"You have an interesting head of hair," the man said, sidestepping closer, making a show of browsing the small, packaged cakes. "Do you dye it?"

Hinata frowned. "No."

There was a flash of excitement in the man's eyes. "So it's natural?"

Hinata didn't want to answer, which was answer enough. The man's eyes raked their way down Hinata before flicking back up to his face.

Hinata backed away, distinctly uncomfortable. "Coach," he called tentatively.

"Just a second, Hinata," Ukai called from the other room.

Before Hinata could say anything else, the man was standing over him, leaning down to whisper in his ear, his warm breath tickling his chilled skin. "Quiet, Chibi-chan. If he comes back out, I'll kill him."

Hinata froze, terror washing over him.

"Why don't you just come with me," the man said, laying a hand on Hinata's head, fisting his fingers in his hair.

It hurt. He didn't want to. He didn't want to. But Ukai…

'I'll kill him.'

Hinata let himself be shoved outside into the rain.

Ukai finally spotted the first aid kit on one of the higher shelves and let out a huff of annoyance. He pulled out a stool and climbed up, grabbing it and popping it open to see if it was stocked. He climbed down, draped a blanket over his shoulder, and left the back room, rifling through the kit for disinfectant and bandages.

"Here we are, Hinata, these should do the trick," he said, but when he looked up, his shop was empty. The asshole customer was gone. Hinata was gone.

Filled with a sudden bout of urgency, Ukai dropped the blanket and first aid kit and grabbed the broom from behind the counter, holding the handle-side up in front of him like some sort of weapon. He ran outside and was instantly soaked. The sidewalk was illuminated by the light from the shop and the four vending machines lining its walls, but Hinata was nowhere in sight. The rain clouded Ukai's vision of the rest of the street, and he was overcome by a terrible weight of despair before he heard it–

A muffled cry of distress.

"Hinata!" he yelled, running around to the back of his shop, broom held aloft and ready to strike.

The man held Hinata to his chest, his arm tightly wrapped around the first-year's neck to keep him immobile and compliant against him, as the other arm started to snake its way down his chest–

Ukai let out a roar and launched himself forward, whacking the man with his broom handle once–twice–three times before the man let go, dropping Hinata who slumped to his hands and knees as he heaved for breath.

"Coach," Hinata gasped.

Ukai swung the broom again, but the man scrambled away. He placed himself firmly in front of Hinata with his broom at the ready, fury pumping through his veins, utilizing every shred of his willpower and self-restraint to keep himself from killing the sick bastard. "Leave!"

The man hesitated, glancing behind Ukai–

"I said get the fuck out of here!"

The man glared and turned away with a lazy wave. "Ja," he called, careless.

God. God. What had just–? Had all of that really just–

Hinata's gasps for breath brought Ukai down to Earth. The first-year was shaking violently, his eyes wide as he gasped and choked in a panic. Ukai hurried to his side and hauled him to his feet, not willing to risk the man returning while they were preoccupied. He escorted Hinata back inside, locking the doors behind them.

Hinata sank to the floor, and Ukai lowered to his knees next to him. "Breathe," he said. "Breathe, Hinata."

Hinata's wide, desperate eyes found his own, and his hand reached forward, absently searching for something–

It found Ukai's soaked T-shirt and fisted itself there, trembling.

They sat there for a long time, breathing, shaking, their clothes dripping.

Hinata finally started to calm down. "He–" he said, shaking. "He said he'd kill you."

"I'm fine," said Ukai. "You're fine. We should call your mom–"

"She's not home," said Hinata, his voice hollow. She and Natsu were in Osaka for the weekend. Hinata had stayed behind for the practice match against Nekoma.

Ukai frowned. He didn't want to send Hinata home alone, not after this. He grabbed the blanket and wrapped it tightly around Hinata who clutched onto it like a lifeline. "Is there anyone you'd like me to call?" Hinata stared blankly. In shock? "I have a spare futon," he offered. Nothing. Ukai sighed and stood up. He wasn't going to be able to close up shop properly tonight. He sent a quick explanation/apology text to his dad who would be opening up in the morning and grabbed the first aid kit before shutting off the lights. He gently led Hinata to the passenger-side of his car, who climbed in without any questions. Ukai threw Hinata's bag in the trunk.

When he started his car, a warning light turned on. Passenger Airbag Off. Apparently 114 lbs. of bones and muscle just wasn't enough.

The drive to his house consisted of him talking and Hinata not listening. Ukai was getting more worried by the second. Hinata had shut down, and nothing he said was getting through to him. When they pulled into his driveway, he sent a quick group-text to the team.

'Hinata with me. Hurt, but okay. Could use a hand.'

That should do it. Surely someone from the team was awake.

He led Hinata inside, keeping up a stream of one-sided conversation, trying to put him at ease as he sat him down and disinfected and bandaged his scrapes. To Ukai's horror, there was already some discoloration forming around Hinata's throat.

It was going to bruise.

Unsure what else he could do, Ukai rolled out the futon in the living room. "Is this all right?" he asked.

Nothing.

"Hinata," he said, sitting next to him on the couch. "You're okay."

Hinata looked at him, but it was still that blank, empty, look. He was still shaking. He was still scared.

Ukai gave Hinata a pile of clothes that were miles too big for someone who wasn't even 5' 5", and Hinata went to the bathroom to change. Ukai checked his phone. Seven missed messages.

Nishinoya: I'm on my way.

Sugawara: I can be there in 10

Kageyama: What the hell did the idiot do this time?

Daichi: Coming

Kageyama: I'm coming too

Ennoshita: I can't come. What happened? Is Hinata okay?

Asahi: Can't make it either. Keep us updated!

The doorbell rang, and Ukai hurried for the door. He assumed those who hadn't responded were already asleep. He'd have to send another message so they wouldn't panic when they woke up in the morning–

He'd assumed wrong.

Because the first one to arrive at his door hadn't responded with a text, had been, in fact, one of the few people Ukkai had been certain wouldn't come even if they had been awake to read his message.

"Tsukishima?"

A/N: Please review! There are no pairings in this fic. It's looking like there will be two more chapters, so stay tuned!