Chapter Text
**I do not own these characters or the world, that belongs to our lovely author of MHA, Kohei Horikoshi.
Fifty-Nine
But You Failed to Notice that She was Watching
Shoto stood at their assigned UA training ground; the room awash in various concrete pillars—courtesy of Cementoss—debris, and general ruin. There was a plethora of dummies spread about the training area, representing civilians in need of rescue or evacuation. Several of their teachers—not just Mr. Aizawa—were on the training grounds with them, which Shoto found a little odd. Aside from Cemntoss being present at the very beginning of these sorts of sessions to make cement obstacles for them, his presence as well as any of their other teachers, was a bit odd.
What was even odder was the fact that once they wrapped up with this little exercise, 1-B was going to utilize the same training area once 1-A had finished use. In fact, adding to the strangeness was the fact that they’d spent the entirety of their morning classes in this training scenario.
They’d been told upon arrival to school that day that they’d be doing an impromptu live action training instead of their regular classes. Class 1-B was to spend all afternoon doing the same thing they were doing now. Normal classes for both 1-A and 1-B as well as the robust sex ed lessons had all been shortened to accommodate the lengthy live action training. Today was the day that they were supposed to come together for their presentations on the different trimesters of pregnancy, so for the sex ed portion to be shortened must mean that whatever prompted this little impromptu training session must be important.
When they had initially been assigned various weeks throughout the different trimesters, they’d been given a week to put together their essays with their assigned partner and then the following week they would join with the rest of the students that made up either the first, second, or third trimester and present on it to the rest of the class. Having ample time to prepare that sort of presentation seemed kind of important so to have it condensed seemed…odd. Were they still expected to present on Wednesday? Shoto really wasn’t certain.
Yaoyorozu stood at his side, a near constant flash of light emanating from her as she created a near endless supply of first aid kits. When they’d first entered the training room, they’d been given various tasks by the teachers. A group comprising of Kaminari, Tokoyami, Aoyama, and Hagakure had been broken off from the bulk of their class and assigned a role of utilizing their quirks for what the teachers called crowd control. Ectoplasm had moved with that group and had duplicated himself to act as villains that the four students were supposed to attempt to control. That had yielded less than stellar results since Kaminari had gone full hembo with his quirk and was now stumbling around like an idiot.
Lumped further behind them to act as a last line of defense was Ashido, Ojiro, Kirishima, Satou, Sero, and Mineta. This group was exactly what it sounded like, a last line of defense if the crowd control failed. Multiple teachers had joined this group including Mr. Aizawa, Hound Dog, Snipe, and Present Mic. Despite the larger number of students, the selected teachers were formidable and had given the group a near impossible task of keeping them at bay.
Jiro, Koda, and Shoji were also lumped together and assigned with what the teachers had referred to as reconnaissance and recovery. Their job was to search out for the civilians, or rather the dummies set up throughout the training ground, and alert others to their locations while also keeping tabs on any incoming villains that made it through the crowd control group. Midnight had been attached to this group and was acting as an example of a villain that had made it through the crowd control and the last line which added further stress to the group since they had to constantly watch out and be on the look out for Midnight who they knew lurked nearby.
Shoto’s group was made up of himself, Ida, Midoriya, Uraraka, Asui, Bakugo, and Yaoyorozu. They had been given the task of evacuation and rescue, a relatively simple task in comparison to what their other classmates were doing.
The entire scenario struck him as odd and mildly suspicious…but of what? What was the purpose behind this training? It felt purposeful but when he’d inquired, he’d been shrugged off and told that it was just preparing them for future crisis situations. Did they know that a crisis situation as on the horizon? Shoto thought that once he was finished with school today, he might reach out to Endeavor and see if the number one hero might know something more…not that he’d share that kind of information with him.
He scowled as he recalled his father and his irritating interference at the festival. Not that Shoto had been having the time of his life acting as some strange second party to Bakugo’s stalking of Mineta, but it was an unwelcome and unwanted attempt at closeness. Ha, how could Endeavor even think that following him and assigning one of his hero lackeys to tail him would foster closeness? What a joke. In the end, even after the disaster with his father, it hadn’t been all bad. His other classmates including Yaoyorozu, had been there and had offered for him to join them, which he had done.
Shoto glanced in Yaoyorozu’s direction and watched her for a moment as she continued to create more first aid kits. He couldn’t help but smile a little as he watched her. He recalled the lovely kimono she’d worn and the pretty flower decorations in her hair. She’d looked really pretty, so pretty that he’d felt compelled to say that to her. He wasn’t really sure why, but he’d said it and while it had made her blush, it also seemed to make her happy and that in turn, made him happy.
She’d been so kind to him at the festival…so observant. He’d given up on buying himself that silly Galaxy Princess tee shirt but she hadn’t let him leave without it. It was not something that Shoto would’ve have thought that she would do for him, or anyone really, for that matter, but she had seen how he’d looked at it, how he’d wanted it and had decided to grant him his frivolous desire. It had made him feel…happy. His heart had felt light and airy and at least for a little while, he’d not thought about his tumultuous life at all.
As he continued to watch her, he wondered what it would’ve been like if they’d gone to the festival together like Ashido and Kirishima had ultimately done. Would he have asked her to make him a kimono or would he have gotten one of his families and worn that? Would they have done festival games or eaten soba together? He briefly imagined them walking together down twilight lit streets, their hands brushing against each other before entwining. It was as strange thought and one that evoked foreign emotions in him. Excitement, maybe? Anxiety? He wasn’t entirely sure, but when he thought about it, it made his stomach feel fluttery.
“You pickin’ up a weird ass vibe from this day?” Bakugo asked from Todoroki’s other side. Todoroki looked over at him in surprise, curious when the blond boy had snuck up to him. Bakugo’s gaze was directed out toward the other groups of their classmates, his eyes narrowed, brow creased.
“Yes; there seems to be something off,” Shoto agreed as he redirected his gaze from Yaoyorozu and toward their peers.
“I think they aren’t telling us something,” Bakugo mused, his voice more of a growl than anything else.
“Ribbit, that’s probably enough first aid kits, Momo. Come join Uravity, Ingenium, Deku and I in the evacuation,” Asui, who was at Yaoyorozu’s side, suggested.
“Okay. I suppose I can make some signs too that indicate which way to go for the clearest path of evacuation,” Yaoyorozu reluctantly agreed. She stood up and glanced at both Bakugo and Todoroki, a slightly confused expression on her face.
“What? You wanna add your two cents, ponytail?” Bakugo barked in annoyance at her expression.
“I just think it might serve us all better if you participated in the evacuation rather than speculate what might be motivating this exercise,” Yaoyorozu said with a slight shrug.
“Pfft, why? It’s a bunch of dumbass dummies. A waste of time. Besides the nerd, cheeks, the frog and four eyes have that shit handled. Why steal their thunder?” The ashen blonde cast a narrowed gaze in their direction before looking back toward Yaoyorozu.
“Well, it’s part of the lesson so I imagine it would be best if you at least pretended to participate,” the raven haired girl said, a touch of judgement in her otherwise soft voice.
“Fuc—” Bakugo started but Shoto decided now was the best time to interrupt.
“Apologies, Yaoyorozu. We will join you shortly,” he said with a small bow aimed at her.
“No, it’s okay, I just, well yeah. Thank you,” she said, her cheeks now flushed as she began following after Asui to join the others.
“Ass kisser,” Bakugo said with a snort.
Shoto faced Bakugo and gave him an expression that on anybody else would be considered blank, but on Shoto’s face could only be described as annoyed. “She has a point and I don’t believe apologizing to her is ‘ass kissing’, but rather simple politeness. You might feel inclined to try something similar sometime.” Bakugo laughed then, surprising Todoroki. He’d expected him to glare death at him and threaten bodily harm, not laugh.
“Damn icy hot, didn’t think I’d see you all worked up over something so stupid but I guess I was wrong,” he laughed.
Todoroki frowned. Was he worked up? He didn’t think so. Maybe a little put out but not worked up. “I wouldn’t refer to my reaction as worked up.”
“Whatever you say,” Bakugo said, smirking and then turned toward the rest of their group that was running around the cement structures and moving dummies toward the evacuation safety zone. “Alright, let’s go join those losers.”
“Yes, let’s join our classmates,” Shoto agreed.
***
Uraraka sat rather uncomfortably in her desk as she listened to Momo go over her collected notes that she’d gathered from the groups that made up the second trimester. Since Momo had been deemed their speaker, they’d started out this group session by providing her with all the information they’d put together last week on their respective weeks. She had diligently taken notes throughout and was now repeating it back to the group in both an effort to make sure she’d gotten everything down but also in the hopes of getting some suggestions for what to include in their presentation.
On Uraraka’s left was Bakugo, the desk he was sitting in pushed up next to her; on her right was Tsu. Tsu seemed to be paying close attention to what Momo was saying while Bakugo looked like he might be about to fall asleep. When they’d first gathered, Uraraka had started information dumping but had been stopped by Bakugo who summed up their weeks of eighteen to twenty-one in a few concise sentences. She felt certain that there was probably a lot more to include but Yaoyorozu hadn’t questioned his delivery or requested more info, so Uraraka hadn’t interjected.
The day had been a bit odd in general. When they had arrived at classes that morning, rather than do their normal morning routine they’d been ushered off to a UA training room and subjected to an oddly specific scenario. The problem: a large number of villains attacking in a highly populated area with copious civilians and possible collateral damage meaning a multi-faceted team approach was essential for success.
I guess it didn’t seem that weird, though so many of the teachers being involved was a little strange. Not to mention the kind of anxious tone they were giving off, she thought to herself as she looked to the head of the classroom. Recovery Girl was sat at Aizawa’s desk except this time Aizawa was there too, not in his usual spot on the floor, curled up in his sleeping bag. They occasionally shared a whispered word but otherwise just looked out over the classroom like a pair of ominous entryway gargoyles.
Uraraka’s gaze drifted to the other side of the room, the side that Deku was seated at. He looked like he was busy with writing down some notes but would occasionally stop and say something else to the group around him. She looked from Deku to Jiro and Kaminari who were seated next to each other. Nothing looked out of the ordinary there but Uraraka couldn’t help but wonder if a dynamic had changed between them since she and Deku had spotted them at the festival…or had it already been changed she’d just failed to notice?
Thinking of the festival brought a blush to her cheeks and heat to her face. As if he might be having the exact same thought, Deku’s gaze suddenly darted in her direction and locked onto hers. She thought she saw a flash of excitement in his eyes before they darted away and a similar blush took up residence on his freckled cheeks.
“You okay Ochako?” Tsu’s quiet voice cut into her thoughts and she nearly jumped but managed to avoid it at the last second. She looked at her friend and took in the puzzled expression on her face and felt a brief sting of guilt for not having looped her into what had happened and what was going on. Maybe I’ll tell her tonight, she thought to herself.
“Yeah, I’m good, just got distracted is all,” she explained and gave her friend a bright smile.
“Ribbit. Being pregnant seems really complicated,” Tsu muttered quietly as she turned her attention back toward Momo.
Bakugo let out a throaty snore from her left making everyone in their group look in his direction. Sure enough, his head was leaned over the back of his chair and his eyes were closed and he most definitely looked like he was asleep. He’s going to have a bad neck ache if he doesn’t change his position, Uraraka thought to herself and briefly considered shaking him awake but thought better of it. It was best to let sleeping tigers stay sleeping.
***
At last the afternoon finally rolled to a stop and the students eagerly began gathering their things and preparing to leave. Recovery Girl who was still seated at the head of the class, loudly cleared her throat making everyone stop.
“We’ll resume our lectures on all three trimesters tomorrow with the last half hour of class being dedicated to putting your group presentations together,” she explained.
So…back to normal? Uraraka quietly wondered when Ida’s hand suddenly shot up and Recovery Girl pointed an ancient, gnarled finger in his direction.
“Are we to resume normal class activities tomorrow, then?” He asked after giving a small respectful bow before speaking.
Recovery Girl gave a side glance at Aizawa and Uraraka thought she saw a flicker of some emotion flash in his eyes before he gave the slightest of head nods. “Tomorrow you will spend half of the day in a similar training scenario as today. You will be joined by class 1-B in tomorrow’s setting, so be prepared to work together,” Aizawa explained. “Now go back to your dorms and get some rest, you’ve got a long day ahead of you tomorrow.”
“Thank you!” Ida said with another bow. Uraraka thought she could see a furrow in his brow and wondered if he was as perplexed as she was by that information.
So…tomorrow would be more of the same except that they’d actually be training concurrently with class 1-B? Aside from the failed summer camp, had they ever really done that before? Not really…what was going on?
The rest of the class started moving again and working on shuffling out the door. Uraraka gathered her things and made her way out of the classroom. As she started down the hall, Bakugo suddenly barreled past her. She recalled what she’d spoken with Mina about the previous night and the brief exchange of texts she’d had with Deku that morning explaining what she’d learned about Mineta.
“Hey Bakugo! Wait up,” she called and jogged toward him. He halted when she called out to him and turned just enough so that he was barely facing her. His brow was creased in a frown, his mouth downturned, a typical Bakugo expression.
“What do you want cheeks?” He asked, his voice gravelly and already sounding impatient.
“Um, I, well, I…I just wanted to say thank you,” she said with a blush and downcast eyes.
“What the fuck for?” He asked, confusion evident in his tone.
She continued to look down at both her feet and his. He was tapping one of his feet as if their continued exchange had already gone on for far too long.
“For…well, I kind of know that Mineta I guess was following me and Deku around and trying…to…er, I don’t really know, but,” she stopped briefly and raised her eyes to him, “but you were looking out for me and Deku and I am grateful is all.” There wasn’t outright hostility in his gaze but rather an emotion that she couldn’t immediately identify. Rather than speculate about what it could’ve been, she quickly lowered in a small bow of gratitude. “Thank you.”
“Pfft, I wasn’t looking out for you or him. I was simply trying to make sure that Deku could be at his best so that when I crush him and take the number one hero spot, I can say I had a complete, absolute victory. If the shrimp had been allowed to do whatever the hell he was planning then the nerd might be off his game,” Bakugo said with a snort.
Sure, okay, thought Uraraka as she straightened and looked back at the fiery boy. His expression was neutral as Bakugo expressions went. I’ll take it, she thought to herself and gave a small smile to the sour faced boy. “Okay, thank you regardless of the reason.”
“Yuck, go be nice to someone else. It makes me feel…gross and like I should be nice to you. Barf,” he hissed with a wrinkled nose and stormed off.
Uraraka watched him go and felt a little like giggling at his response. Maybe in five or ten years he would be comfortable receiving thanks or kindness from others; maybe. She took a step forward but suddenly felt a warm hand on her shoulder that made her pause. Uraraka turned to look and see the owner of the hand but before she could look back, she caught the unmistakable scent of freshly fallen rain, snuggle dryer sheets, and clean linens that filled her belly with warmth and butterflies. Deku was here.
“Want to walk back to the dorm together?” His voice was like the dulcet tones of an angel in her ears.
“I’d love to,” she said with a small blush as Deku moved to her side. He dropped his hand down to his side so that it was nearly touching hers. Did she…did she take it?
The two began to walk forward, side by side, as they made their way for their lockers. Their shoulders nearly touched as they walked, fingers occasionally brushing. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest. Was this the moment? Was this the moment when she could declare to the world that she and Izuku Midoriya were together, together?
They reached the bank of lockers and separated, each heading to their respective locker. Uraraka went through the mechanical motions of exchanging slippers for shoes, pulling out her woolen coat, though honestly, she could probably start leaving that at the dormitory. Each day seemed to bring a little bit more spring warmth with it.
She closed her locker and crossed around the lockers and stood at the entrance to the school. Deku joined her a moment later, his cheeks rosy. There were a few other students still exchanging their slippers for shoes, chatting, or just milling about. Is this the moment? She asked herself as she pushed the doors open and she and Deku stepped outside.
As they passed through the door their shoulders bumped and their fingers once again brushed up against each other. This time however, Uraraka caught Deku’s hand and laced her fingers with his. Several of their classmates were around yes, but they were doing their own thing and while this wasn’t a super obvious declaration, it would do for now.
Soon, she thought to herself with a smile.
***
The same dingy ass diner with the same cigarette burns scorched into the tables; the overwhelming stink of nicotine and tobacco; the shitty lighting. Hawks hated this diner and honestly, he was glad that this was probably the last time he’d have to visit it…and the last time he’d have to stare at Dabi’s hideous face.
The patchwork villain sat across from him in their usual spot, cigarette in hand and a mostly empty glass of beer in the other. He took a long drag on his cigarette before exhaling it out of his nose and giving Hawks a lazy smile. Despite the casualness of that expression Hawks felt an undertone of malice or a threat buried in it somewhere. The League and the Front are none the wiser. They don’t know what’s about to happen, he told himself as he gave Dabi a carefree smile of his own.
His meeting with his handler on Sunday morning had been tense, to say the least. He’d gotten hardly any sleep during the night since Mirko had worked him to the point of exhaustion with their lovemaking. It must have been after midnight by the time he actually fell asleep but then she’d woken him again around three in the morning for another round. He’d been up for it but he’d already felt exhausted and another round of marathon sex was enough to push him beyond his limit.
He’d barely staggered out of her hotel room at nine in the morning before having a bleary flight to his apartment, so exhausted he’d left behind some of his clothes, not to mention the keychain that she’d bought him. Once he’d made it home, he thought he might be able to relax but had been startled to find his handler already there, sitting at his table with an icy smile on his face.
Then he’d dumped a lot of information on him. What the plan of attack was, who was going where, the students of UA and their involvement, and then his sole responsibility of managing Twice, by any means necessary. When he inquired further about that, the skeletal man had just smiled at him and repeated “any means necessary”. It was more than enough to tell Hawks what his role would be.
Control Twice by means of incapacitating, coercion, or death. Ideally bring him in alive but not necessary as long as he was prevented from doing his Sad Man’s Parade. That was his top priority, all other priorities were secondary. And if he ended up having to control Twice by death, well then, secure any leftover blood, lest the fanged Himiko Toga get her dirty little hands on it. Even if the act of containing Twice cost him his life, even if he had to kill a man that he genuinely liked, he was to prevent him from unleashing his quirk. Everything else was collateral damage.
When he’d found out that Mirko was going to be exactly where he thought she’d be, front lines at the hospital he’d nearly failed to maintain his expression of cool and composed. The longer he’d thought about her being in that hospital since he’d first got the message from his handler, the more dread he’d started to feel. She was faster than anyone else on the hospital strike team—aside from Endeavor—and she was easily the most brazen when it came to her own personal safety. She was by no means suicidal or inclined to risk life and limb but if she had a goal in mind that she believed in, she would see it done at even the highest of costs.
When his handler had at last left, he’d been nearly overcome with despair at what was literally just a few days away. He regretted cancelling the plans he’d had for the day with Mirko. Would there be another chance? What if the raid failed? What if Twice killed him? What if some abomination in the hospital killed Mirko?
You’re heroes; this is a risk you willingly take, a voice whispered to him making him squeeze his eyes shut in despair. Was this life the life that he’d chosen? No…he’d never had a real choice, he’d just moved forward with a vague notion that he could one day be like his hero, Endeavor. That had been the only driving force behind everything he did; one day he’d be like Endeavor.
And here he was, many years later, the embodiment of the type of hero he’d dreamt of except it wasn’t the dream he’d held onto as a child. This was more like a nightmare; one he couldn’t wake up from. Forever the Safety Commission’s slave to be used whenever they saw fit. Infiltrate the League, develop relations with them, report back to us. Befriend Twice, get to know him, start to actually like him. Feed copious of personal information on your colleagues and on children to the League. Play cool charming Hawks for the public. Schmooze whoever you have to; fuck and sleep your way into their good graces if need be. Willingly endanger his friends, his idol, his lover, innocent children. Stop the man you actually consider your friend from using his quirk. Kill him if he becomes problematic.
There was no regard for his conscience, for what this would do to his emotional wellbeing; he was simply a tool that was to be used, and right now that usage was in stopping the League and the Front, by any means necessary.
It became a more palatable situation when he viewed it as serving the greater good; albeit a greater good that was achieved by potentially questionable, high-cost means. If he could look at just the good aspect of it, he could choke down what needed to be done and do it…but the fate of innocents like his student Tokoyami hung heavy on his mind and were harder for him to push down. The commission was willingly utilizing children to try to tip the odds in their favor and that was just something that he was not ever going to be 100% on board with. What happened to those children if this endeavor went tits up? Did civilians as well as children pay that cost?
Can you live with that? It was a question that echoed in his mind on a never-ending loop.
Now it was Monday, the planned raid in literally just three day’s time, and here he was having a little check in with one of his least favorite villains, Dabi. It had been one of their usual encounters, deliver intel on pro heroes, the same old song and dance though this time maintaining his façade of cool and easygoing was harder. He knew what was on the horizon and the weight of that was starting to crack the carefully crafted veneer he routinely kept in place.
Play this game just a little longer. Hold out just a few more days and then, then you will be done with them. This will be the last time you ever have to look into those disturbing blue eyes, he thought to himself as he watched Dabi finish his pint of beer.
“Well looks like we’re about done here,” Dabi cooed in that raspy voice of his as he put out his cigarette on the already beyond saving booth table.
“Guess so,” Hawks agreed and gave a long stretch. He glanced at the folder of information that he’d handed over just a little while ago, this one detailing vetted information on Endeavor, Eraser head, and Best Jeanist; specifically a large amount of information about the nature of Jeanist’s quirk. Hawks had been extremely perplexed when Dabi had initially requested the information on Jeanist considering that that was who he had supposedly killed to prove his loyalty to them. He knew that Jeanist was safe…or at least he hoped that he was—he was going to have to go and retrieve him soon so that he could join in for the storm that was about to come.
“Walk me out?” Dabi suggested as he took the envelope and stood.
“Want me to walk you home too?” Hawks asked and batted his eyes at the villain. It was the same easy game he always played but at the same time it felt harder now.
Dabi gave a gravelly laugh. “Not my type.”
“Oh? You have a type?” Hawks asked, his voice soft and flirtatious.
The two left their booth and walked out of the diner after Hawks paid for their beers; he always had to fit the bill. Once outside, Dabi pulled out another cigarette, ignited his thumb in a brilliant blue flame, and took a drag that he made a show of blowing into Hawks’ face. Hawks frowned and coughed, fanning his face. Fucking asshole, he thought to himself in irritation as he struggled to maintain his fun loving, carefree guise.
“Doesn’t everybody?” Dabi purred, answering the last question Hawks had asked.
Once Hawks had managed to clear the air around his face, he took a step closer to Dabi and dramatically raised an eyebrow. Just a little longer…play this game just a little longer. “So what’s your type?”
Dabi took another long drag on his cigarette and took his time exhaling the smoke before giving Hawks a sly smile and saying, “you’re familiar actually, but, I guess I’d say Endeavor is my type.” His eyes practically lit up at Endeavor’s name and for a moment Hawks felt like he was hearing a genuine confession of truth. There was a flicker of some other emotion in Dabi’s eyes that passed so fast that he couldn’t quite make out what it was.
“The number one? Wow, aiming big,” Hawks said with a laugh. He wasn’t sure he liked the thought of someone as unhinged as Dabi obsessing and pining for his personal hero. Scratch that, he most definitely didn’t like it.
“Well, we’ve all gotta dream big, don’t we? Goals and all that,” he said with a smile that somehow seemed familiar, or knowing, but knowing about what? “See you around Hawks.” He tipped his head just barely in the winged hero’s direction before he began heading in the opposite direction.
Hawks watched the lanky figure grow smaller and smaller, unwilling to look away. Just being in that disgusting diner made him feel like he needed to bathe. Hopefully that would be the last time he ever had to have a one-on-one conversation with Dabi. He turned and began heading in the opposite direction.
Maybe if I fly real fast some of the smoke stink won’t stick to my clothes…I wonder if Mirko is around, what she’s doing, if she’d see me tonight. It might be the last time, he thought to himself absently as he crossed by the alleyway of the diner. A sound from the alleyway drew his attention, making him pause, his wings suddenly pointed and at attention.
There was a streetlight that was right outside the shitty diner and it cast a fairly good ray of light into the narrow alleyway. It didn’t go all the way through to a parallel street, but rather ended abruptly in a stone building. Hawks assumed it was some tiny little building that they’d managed to squeeze into that alley space instead of letting it end naturally in the street.
Nothing looked out of the ordinary in the alley. There was a dumpster that looked well kept, a few loose bags of garbage scattered about, but nothing else. This part of town was notorious for being semi shady and not the cleanest, so seeing the trash wasn’t all that surprising.
He was about to turn away when he heard a series of swift soft thuds that drew his attention back to the alley. The soft thuds suddenly changed to a rapid pattering, like the sound of swiftly moving feet. His wings expanded to their full size, a few loose feathers primed to strike.
Who was it? A random thug? Somebody from the League? Had they been outed? But how?!
His mind raced as a shape came into sight but moved so fast it was mostly just a white blur. It practically flew over the top of the narrow little building that made up the other side of the alley before landing with cat like grace in the space before him, allowing him to see it fully.
It was Mirko. It was Mirko…and her expression was hard, harder than he’d ever seen on her face before. She rose from crouched to standing just inside the alley, eyes locked onto him, her long white hair blowing in the wind, fists clenched at her sides. She wasn’t wearing her hero costume but rather a pair of blue jeans and a black shirt with a white jacket, street clothes…so she wasn’t patrolling…what was she doing here? Better question, what had she heard or seen?
He took a step toward her, further in the alley and opened his mouth to speak but the words froze on his tongue when he saw her take a step back at his moving closer to her. What had she seen? What did she know? It’s not what it looks like. I’m not with them, it’s the safety commission! I’m, well…I’m their tool, their puppet, he thought to himself bleakly.
“What were you doing here with him?” She asked, her voice low and threatening.
“Mirko…well, I,” he stumbled, the easygoing and carefree mask nearly cracking completely. “I was just following him, doing a little recon—” he started, his tone easy again but the sound of her snorting silenced him.
“Don’t fucking lie to me. I got this weird vibe from you after you took that fucking call at my place and then you cancelled on me for Sunday when I knew it was something you were looking forward to and then we get this order from the commission that there’s a big ass raid going down on those fuckers in the League and the Front? It stunk. So today, I fucking followed you and saw you and him,” she pointed at Hawks, her eyes dangerously narrowed.
How long had she been following him? All day? Just over the last few hours? He didn’t know and he couldn’t really guess considering he’d never been subject to being stalked by another pro, let alone Mirko. If she’d put two and two together with his call with his handler and the order for the raid, she had to see that he wasn’t in league with them, right? Right?!
Hawks let out a strained laugh and rubbed the back of his head as he gave her a forced smile. “Haha, guess you found me out,” he started and took a cautious step toward her, “Mirko, Rumi, it’s, it’s complicated,” he sighed heavily, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly exhausted.
“Don’t call me by my name. Don’t.” She hadn’t moved away from him instead moved so fast he barely registered the time it took her to close the distance between them and get in his face. “Explain it to me. Now.”
For the first time since he’d known Mirko, Hawks felt a genuine stab of fear as she stared at him. She was shorter than he was so she had to look up to meet his gaze and she was only the number five hero while he was number two, but in that moment, as those crimson eyes bore into him, he could see only what the villains she hunted down likely saw before she put them to sleep: a dangerous, wild, otherworldly creature about to strike.
I want to tell you, I really, really do…
“I…can’t…” his voice trailed off and he felt his gaze falter as she continued to stare at him. His shirt collar was suddenly pulled tight against his throat as he was pulled downward. He didn’t have to raise his eyes to know that Mirko had fisted the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer to her face. He knew if he looked up he’d see furious betrayal there. I’m not sure I can stand to see that on her face…
“Why not?” She asked her voice low, practically a growl.
“Because,” his voice was soft, hardly a whisper, carrying the weight of every lie he’d ever had to tell for the commission in it. “…I think you already know.” The grip on his shirt collar only tightened. If she pulled much tighter he was going to start having a hard time breathing.
“Because of the League? Because you’re in cahoots with them?” The words were acid, burning holes in his skin as they hit him. Please don’t think that, that isn’t it…you’re smart, you know the truth. “Or because they told you to infiltrate them? To play their fucking games?” Bingo.
Hawks was silent; his silence was all she needed to have her question answered.
The pressure on his shirt collar loosened and breathing was easy again. He briefly wondered if that signaled the end of her rage but he was barely able to process that as a possibility when he suddenly felt something slam into his chest, knocking him backwards and almost into the street. He fell backwards onto his backsides, struggling to regain his breath since he’d just had the wind savagely knocked out of him. Hawks raised his gaze to Mirko and took in her stance; she stood with one leg outstretched, holding it there having clearly just used it to kick him. She kicked me. She let me go and then she kicked me…but not hard enough to break bones, not a full powered hit, a whisper of her true strength, he thought to himself as he rubbed his chest. She could’ve inflicted much more grievous injury but had chosen not to.
Mirko, please, please try to understand…
Mirko strode forward then and Hawks had to exert all his will to not scoot away in fear or instinctually send feathers out to deter her advancing on him. I will not hurt her, no matter what she does to me, I will not hurt her. She knelt down to his level, her face mere inches from his. Her expression was wild, bordering on feral. There was hardly a shred of the Mirko he knew in her face anymore; all he could see now was a dangerous wounded animal blinded by rage and betrayal.
“How long? How long have you been playing spy? How long have you been the fucking commissions bitch?! How fucking long?!” She shouted the last words and Hawks thought he could see the beginnings of tears in her eyes.
“Rumi,” he began his voice nothing more than a faint whisper.
“You don’t get to use my fucking name, not ever again!” She roared and sprung to her feet where she began wildly pacing not unlike a cornered animal.
“Mirko,” he started again but stopped when she whirled around and was back in his face.
“What did they ask you to do? What was the deal? Pass along info that those control freak fucks said was okay and get chummy with the bad guys? Rub shoulders with them, cozy up, that kind of shit? We’re supposed to be the good guys, goddammit!” She practically screamed the last word and stumbled away from him, apparently alarmed by her own outburst.
Silence reigned between them. Say something, say anything. “Mirko…it’s complicated, I know you know that and I know even if you turn a blind eye to it, you know that the agencies like the commission aren’t going to have completely clean hands,” he paused briefly considering his next words carefully, “the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few and that means that some measures are taken to ensure that good guys win in the end.”
“At what cost? At what fucking cost Keigo? Your friends, colleagues, Endeavor, innocents? Whatever bullshit the Commission has fed you is just that, bullshit. How can you or any of us claim to be heroes if we’re here playing by the same shady ass rules that fuckers in the League play by? We’re no better than a lowlife villain if the folks that are supposed to be on the good side are using you to do awful things all in the name of the greater good,” she snapped in response and she whirled back into his face. She was on all fours now, practically crawling towards him, her expression wild and unhinged, raw pain reflected clearly in her face.
It hurt to look at, hurt to see that pain there because he knew that he’d caused it. I couldn’t tell you, I promise I couldn’t. It’s for the greater good, it’s all for the greater good…all the things I’ve done, they’re worth it because it’ll create a world where heroes can have more time on their hands, where we can just exist. It’s worth that, it’s gotta be…
“If it means that at the end of the day society and hero society can have more spare time on their hands and that there’s less villainy…it makes the cost worth the risk,” he explained, hoping that he could impart to her his belief that the price was worth it at the end of the day.
“If they are willing to make you lie, cheat, steal, kill even to get tight with the fucking League—whatever the hell they’ve made you do to earn their trust, how is that worth it? What else have they made you do that you signed off on all in the name of the ends justifying the means?” Her voice lowered, not with savagery but with realization and…defeat. She’s never sounded like that before, I’ve never seen her defeated, he thought to himself as his stomach coiled up with fear and anguish at hearing the resignment in her voice.
“Mirko, I promise that what I’m doing has a point, I,” he stopped briefly as he watched her slowly stand up and take a step away from him, her eyes closed the entire time, her mouth pressed into a tight line. “I never kept what I was, am to the commission because I wanted to. I’ve wanted to tell you and Endeavor for a long time now what I’ve been doing…I wish I could have but, it, it was just too big a risk to…my…cover and to your safety.”
“The ends justify the means, right? At the end of the day we’re heroes and if the Commission who says it has everyone’s best interests at hand says for you to join up with the League, you do it. Right? No matter what you have to do—who you have to kill, who you lie to, how much of yourself that you have to sell away— if it means that you further whatever the goals of the Commission are, than no cost is too great…right?”
“They want a brighter future—” he started but Mirko’s bitter laugh made him stop.
“Do they? Because I don’t see that…I see right and I see wrong and I see an agency that is operating under the guise of being helpful and doing what is in everyone’s best interests as a way to commit morally gray actions and employing a twisted sense of justice to decide the future of everyone when really, it’s actually just their personal agenda and not what is actually good or right for anyone but them,” she said her voice soft but as hard as concrete. She gave a heavy sigh that sounded like it carried the weight of every pain she’d ever experienced in her short life with it and turned away.
Hawks watched her start to walk away and felt his stomach flip in panic. She’s walking away from me and this has gone horribly…this could be the last time I see her, the last time she sees me. There’s so much that I want to tell her, to share with her…but I can’t…but I want her to know what she means to me. I’ve been too much of a coward to admit it to myself let alone her, but I want her to know, I need her to know.
“Mirko, wait,” he called after her though she made no effort to stop or turn around, “Mirko, I…I couldn’t tell you earlier, I was scared and didn’t want to admit it but, but, I’ve known for a while now and I need you to know too…I love you and I’m so sorry that I couldn’t tell you what was—” he was unable to finish his sentence because Mirko had spun around so fast it was almost a blur, her fist impacting with his face. It stung but it lacked any real power, he doubted it’d even leave a mark.
He blinked at his stinging cheek and looked up at Mirko who hovered over him, her arm still outstretched but trembling in front of his face. Hawks started to try to say something but then caught sight of her face and was stunned into silence. Her cheeks were wet from fallen tears with a few unshed tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. I’ve never seen her cry before…
“Don’t you get it? You don’t get to have me. And,” she paused to sniffle and wipe at her face and nose with her sleeve, “if when all the shit goes down, if you’re on the wrong side and you stand in the way of what is actually the right thing to do, I’ll kill you, you got it? I’ll fucking kill you, fucking commission be dammed…but if they’re just using you like some puppet they should fuckin’ fry. Now…just, leave me alone.” Her voice faltered on those last words, her shoulders sagging, lower lip trembling. Hawks scooted forward, desperate to touch her, to help her, to try to ease some of the wound he’d inflicted but she stepped away from him.
“Rumi, please,” he begged and stumbled to his feet, his chest aching where she’d kicked him and his face stinging from her punch.
She sniffled again and wiped at her eyes one last time before turning her gaze back to him, her expression hardened. “Fuck you,” she spat as she pulled something out of her pocket and tossed it at him. It landed with a tinkling sound at his feet. Hawks lowered his gaze and realized it was the Endeavor and Hawks keychain that she’d bought him from the festival. She turned from him completely then, and with surprising speed she leapt away from him and back toward the way she’d initially come.
Hawks watched as she sprinted across that same little narrow building and then with a leap vanished on the other side of it. He scooped up the discarded keychain and stepped forward, ready to give chase, his wings spreading out and eager to take the sky but then he stopped…what would he do when he caught up to her? Force her to listen to him? That was a stupid idea and one that definitely wouldn’t work; it would just further incite her.
His head dropped into his hands and he flopped back onto the pavement, teetering on the edge of tears that would swiftly turn to sobs. What a nightmare this night had turned into and what horrible terrors still awaited him and all the other heroes in just a few day’s time. Would he even make it through that encounter? Would she? He honestly didn’t know…
It’s okay if you hate me, I probably deserve that but…but I do love you and I don’t want anything to happen to you, he thought to himself miserably as a few of his own tears at last fell from his eyes. When was the last time he’d cried? He couldn’t remember the last time.
He took a deep, steadying breath and then slowly rose to his feet.
He was a pro hero, the number two hero in the country and he had a job to do, a job that he’d carefully and meticulously planned for. The inevitable result of all his work was heavy on the horizon and as broken hearted and anguished as he felt, he wouldn’t flinch from it…he would do what had to be done.
If the means justify the ends, right? Mirko’s words echoed in his head along with her defeated face.
“As long as it means a brighter future, then yeah, I guess it’s worth it,” he whispered to night, willing it to be true.
