Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It starts, as all big things do, small. Izuku had been walking home from middle school, defeated and heartbroken, when he came across it. ‘It’ being a crudely drawn picture of a hanged man with the words ‘JUST GO KILL YOURSELF’ beneath it. Graffiti. Izuku would usually have ignored it, walked by it without a second glance. But. But, the words struck a chord with him, vibrating through his entire being somehow, and without a second thought he was tearing his yellow backpack off and looking for a pen. A black biro was all he had on hand, but that didn’t stop him from writing beside the message a simple and small ‘DON’T’. The word was more carved into the building than written and Izuku would feel guilty and skittish for months afterwards, but that was how it started. A small act of defiance and hope that no one, especially Izuku, could have predicted.

Life didn’t immediately change after that, it would be unrealistic to have expected it to, especially with Izuku oblivious to the future laid before him. No, at this time Izuku’s mind was constantly in a state of frenzied fever; running back and forth, tripping over the same thoughts, with no end in sight. He wanted to be a Hero. But. ‘It’s not wrong to dream. However... you need to be realistic’. He wanted to save people. But. ‘Useless Deku’. He wanted to smile in the face of adversity. But. ‘I’m so sorry Izuku’. He didn’t have a Quirk, he couldn’t stand up for himself and... No one believed in him. Not his mother, not his childhood friend and not his Hero.

Reality had come crashing into Izuku’s life, unwontedly, three weeks prior to Izuku’s first taste of graffiti. His childhood friend had told him to kill himself, a villain had tried killing him and he had been saved by his Hero. Izuku had decided to take his chance, daring to ask his Hero that fated question. ‘Even without a Quirk... can I still be a Hero? Can someone without a Quirk... become a Hero like you?’. And All Might, the Hero he had looked up to all his life, had told him straight and honestly. ‘No’. It had been crippling and disheartening, but not the final nail in the coffin of Izuku’s dreams. That came later that day.

“Izuku!” His mother had panicked when he had returned home that very day. “Are you ok? You’re not hurt?”

Her hands had frantically moved over his body, checking him for injury. Izuku admittedly did look a little roughed up, but nothing too out of the ordinary.

“I’m fine Mum,” he had assured, his smile a little plastic and brittle. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh, Izuku... you may want to sit down for this...” his mother had insisted, walking him to the kitchen seats.

“You’re... you’re worrying me Mum...” Izuku’s eyes flitted around as though he could find what was troubling her and knock it away. “Are you alright?”

“I’m... I’m fine,” she didn’t sound very fine, but she refused to answer any more questions until they were both sat at the kitchen table with a cup of tea. “It’s... Katsuki...”

Izuku spent the next ten minutes in a state of shock as his mother explained that his childhood friend had been rushed to hospital after being caught in a villain attack. A villain attack with the same slime villain that had tried to kill Izuku earlier that day. The same slime villain that All Might had saved him from. The same slime villain Izuku had seen All Might capture in soda bottles and secure to his trousers. The same trousers Izuku had clung to, to demand answers. It was his fault.

Izuku knew that it was his fault. If he hadn’t have stuck with his dream of being a Hero, this wouldn’t have happened. If he hadn’t have rudely demanded answers from his Hero, this wouldn’t have happened. If he hadn’t have ignored the sounds of a villain fight, he- He shouldn’t think like that! If he had witnessed the villain attack, if he saw Kacchan in danger, he’d probably have risked his life and gotten in the way. The Heroes would have had someone else to save, he wouldn’t have been any help... Everyone was right. He couldn’t be a Hero.

It was probably incredibly selfish to be thinking about himself when his childhood friend was in the hospital fighting for his life, but... Izuku was having a bad day. It was one thing after the other and he couldn’t deal with it. He couldn’t.

He spent the evening crying. His mother comforted him, probably thinking about how sensitive and sweet it was that he worried about his friend... and he did! Don’t get him wrong, but... Kacchan could look after himself, he always had. He was strong... unlike Izuku. Izuku who could only cry, sit back and do nothing. No, that evening he cried for his crushed dreams and soaked up all the comfort his mother gave him.

The following weeks he didn’t know what to do with himself. His whole life was dedicated to becoming a Hero. He watched Hero fights and wrote notes on them, because he wanted to be a Hero. He paid attention in class and studied for hours, so he could get into UA’s heroics course. Everything he owned was Hero related and... He didn’t know what he should do with his life now. What were you meant to do when you have evidence that being a Hero was a hopeless goal? Make support items for Heroes? Become a police officer like All Might had suggested? He didn’t know!

Then he wrote, carved, words into the side of a building.

It was decided then. Of course Izuku didn’t know that. Izuku had only wrote the word ‘DON’T’, because he remembered those words directed at him from someone he respected, and wouldn’t want anyone to take those words seriously. Wouldn’t want anyone to end their lives; so he wrote back. Fought back. But, it wasn’t then that he’d actively chose a life of colour and paints. No, that was later, much later, though before then he got a taste of it. A taste of the joy of street art.

Maybe it was because he wasn’t focusing on Hero fights as often (though he did, he couldn’t completely stop paying attention to them), but he was noticing so much more on the streets. The people walking about, the changes in the seasons; the graffiti along the walls...

It was... nice to look at. Some of the art was impressive for the details added, some was impressive for the style and some was impressive for where exactly it was positioned. (He saw one piece that was on the edge of a building and stared. Just... how did someone get up there?). It was also completely and entirely illegal. And Izuku had contributed to it...

The ‘DON’T’ he had put on the wall haunted him. Izuku had never broken any laws before. He had never felt the need to and even if he did, he wouldn’t have risked his future Hero career for it... future Hero career... maybe that’s why he did it? An act of rebellion. He can’t be a Hero, so he might as well add to the unaccountable crimes out there... He can’t afford that. Even if he’s not a Hero, he wouldn’t be anything less than a law abiding citizen. He adored Heroes and he wouldn’t make their jobs harder.

Mind made up, Izuku puts his one act of criminal activity to the side, even if his eyes can’t help but catch the street art all around him. Even if it reminds him of his love of art and drawing Heroes. Even if he asks his mother to buy him some spray paints to experiment with.

He won’t be a criminal. He won’t illegally paint the streets like others, but maybe... maybe art can be his future? He’s been drawing since before he can remember and has never stopped. Maybe he could design Pro Hero costumes? That... that sounds fun...

Everyone loves Pro Hero costumes.

——

Izuku and Kacchan have grown up in the same cul-de-sac their entire lives. Their apartment buildings being a mere 100 metres away from each other. It’s not surprising Kacchan is the first person to see what Izuku’s been experimenting with.

“What the hell is that meant to be, shitty Deku?” Kacchan demands, standing a metre behind Izuku, sweating. Izuku can see the deep pulls of oxygen Kacchan inhales- he must have been training.

“Ah, Kacchan!” Izuku panics, inhaling quickly and consequently starting up a coughing fit.

Kacchan puts his hands on his hips. Lips upturned in a sneer. Eyebrows raised expectantly.

“It’s nothing Kacchan!” Izuku insists once he can kind of breathe again. The words do little to appease Kacchan and he comes stomping over.

“What stupid thing are you hiding now, shitty nerd?” And although Izuku pleads and cries, he’s shoved out of the way so Kacchan can see Izuku’s work laid bare.

Pieces of paper lay scattered around them. They’re held down with rocks, as though an unexpected gust of wind had prompted quick thinking. There’s three cans of spray paint (red, yellow; blue) neatly lined up next to Izuku and these cans have clearly been used all across the papers. Nothing is neat or perfect. The paint spills over on some pages and some work has clearly not set well even with the stencils Izuku’s used.

“Huh?” Kacchan stares. His face frozen. It’s not a particularly attractive shot of Kacchan’s face, like someone had paused a video at the worst opportunity. “Huh?”

“I... I’m just... experimenting...” Izuku rubs at the back of his neck, completely oblivious to the spray paint splattered all over his hands. “Thought I’d try my hand at a new art medium...”

“For what?” Kacchan asks, his eyes darting between Izuku and the pieces of paper. “There’s no art assignment going on... and if it’s for your shitty Hero books, you should probably stick to drawing,” Kacchan’s eyes linger on one piece of paper, “you suck at this.”

And it’s true. Izuku couldn’t get one strip of spray paint to line up how he envisioned it. It makes him wonder, admire, the work he sees on buildings (even more). They’re done so well, and so quickly. Just how long does it take to get that skilled?

“It’s... just experimenting...” Izuku can see Kacchan’s fist clench and knows his childhood friend’s patience is about to snap. “For fun Kacchan, it’s for fun.”

Kacchan snorts. “Fun? You never do anything for ‘fun’, everything you do is to chase an impossible dream.”

Izuku looks down at his... pictures. Every piece was meant to be All Might... the only likeliness Izuku can see is the colours. On one piece of paper the v shape hair was more a t shape, on another piece of paper the blue of All Might’s costume has smothered the red details. Everything is blurred and blobby and somehow every edge of colour is faded and blotchy.

“Yeah...” Izuku sighs looking down at his ‘masterpieces’, maybe Kacchan was right again.

“How exactly is this meant to help you become a ‘Hero’?” Kacchan roughly pulls a piece of paper out from under a rock and sneers at it. He’s probably five seconds from blowing the piece up with his Quirk. “If this is what you think will help you become a Hero you’d best just quit now.”

“Not a Hero,” Izuku shakes his head and looks down. He feels tears building up in his eyes, but that’s nothing new. Crying is Izuku’s default action.

“Huh?” Kacchan says and it’s loud in the silence around them. Startling in the silence around them.

“You were right,” which doesn’t say much, Kacchan’s always right. “I can’t be a Hero...”

“Well... yeah...” Kacchan’s saying is slowly, carefully, almost like he can’t comprehend what’s going on. “You don’t have a Quirk.”

The words sting as always, but Izuku doesn’t cry (not yet). He looks up at Kacchan, who’s staring at him like he’s a stranger.

“The slime villain incident...” Izuku starts and watches as Kacchan’s hand on Izuku’s work twitches. “I know you’re not trained to be a Hero yet, but... if someone as good as you can get captured by a villain... what would happen to me? I’d be dead... or make everything worse for the actual Heroes...”

It’s not the real problem. The real problem lies in the fact that it was Izuku’s obsession with becoming a Hero that led to the villain attack against Kacchan (and imagine if the slime villain had chosen to attack someone not as strong as Kacchan, Izuku might have inadvertently killed someone), but... He can’t bring himself to tell Kacchan that. Doesn’t want Kacchan to look at him with disgust or hatred, so he fibs a bit. The slime incident was definitely a problem, and what he said isn’t untrue, but it’s not really the full picture.

“So you finally realise,” Kacchan huffs. To most it would sound condescending or arrogant, but Izuku knows Kacchan; knows him well. That huff is one of almost-relief (almost, because Kacchan can never bring himself to be fully concerned about someone).

“Yeah...” the syllable wobbles from Izuku’s vocal cords, but doesn’t shatter into tears.

“So what’s this for?” Kacchan tsks, shaking the picture (it's the one where All Might’s hair looks more like a heart). “You’re not going to become a street artist.”

“It’s... I’m- just debating what to do... I always wanted to be a Hero, so I didn’t think about what else I should do... and I like art, so I thought I might play around with different mediums... maybe aim for designing Pro Hero costumes...” Izuku explains delicately, terrified of the reaction.

“Huh...” Kacchan tilts his head for a moment before turning away and stomping towards his apartment. He shoves his hands in his pockets and Izuku’s bad attempt at spray painting All Might is shoved in there with them.

Izuku’s shoulders slump in defeat as he watches Kacchan stomp off. Maybe this idea is as bad as his idea of being a Hero? But, what else can he do? He can analyse Hero fights, he can draw and he can study... but what does that leave him with? He’s not sure, but...

He picks up the yellow can. It’s cold to touch and surprisingly heavy even half empty as it is. Izuku didn’t know there would be an actual weight behind the cans when his mother first brought them for him, and they feel awkward in his hand, but... He aims the can at the page and sprays. A stream of yellow hits the left side of the paper, with little specks of yellow going too far and hitting the grass around him. It’s... not where he was aiming, but... He turns the page around so the yellow’s at the top of the page and continues.

He coughs and splutters as he goes along. He misses the page and changes the colour of the grass around him half the time. His wrist is stiff and inexperienced. He continues, stubborn at the worst of times.

“No wonder you’re so bad at this,” Kacchan’s voice comes from behind him. Izuku looks behind him and Kacchan looks half annoyed, half amused and his arms are full of different items.

“Kacchan?” Izuku asks, uncertain.

Kacchan tuts and throws a ball of fabric at him. “Put that on.”

It lands, predictably, on Izuku’s head, but it’s not a chore to quickly pry it off and look at what Kacchan’s gifted him. A pair of black gloves and a spherical cloth imprinted with a bone motif. He looks up at his childhood friend.

“Kacchan?”

He rolls his eyes, as he looks down at Izuku.

“Are you a moron?” He forcefully throws down the materials in his hands on the ground, roughly tugging his own pair of gloves on and shoving the matching spherical cloth over his head to rest around his neck. “You can’t spray paint like this,” he gestures at all of Izuku. “It’ll get over your hands, and you don’t want to breathe that stuff into your lungs.”

“Ah...” now that he’s thinking about it that makes a lot of sense. He’s quick to copy Kacchan, putting the gloves and the scarf like material on.

“Also this is a mess!” Kacchan sneers, shoving Izuku’s work to the side. The grass, dirt and concrete he’d been working on is flecked with the primary colours. Kacchan throws a large white cloth over the mess Izuku has made; then, gently for Kacchan, puts Izuku’s dreadful attempts on the cloth, weighing them down with actual paperweights. “You didn’t even think about covering the ground did you?”

“This is my first time spray painting!” Izuku defends. Kacchan snorts.

“Not your first time painting though,” he raises a brow, holds a hand out. “Do you ever think things through?”

“Of course I do!” Izuku argues. “I’m not an idiot!”

“Debatable,” Kacchan shoves his hand closer to Izuku before Izuku clocks on. He hands over the red can of spray paint- the most full of the lot.

Kacchan grins down at the paper he puts before himself. It’s a manic grin that Izuku’s seen whenever Kacchan gets revved up to win a fight or just before he creates a large explosion. “Let me show you how to spray paint.”

“You know how to spray paint?” Izuku asks, unnecessarily. Of course Kacchan can spray paint. Kacchan can do everything.

“Who do you think I am Deku?!” Kacchan yells, before he proceeds to decimate the amount of paint Izuku owns.

Izuku watches, transfixed, as Kacchan lays layer over layer of paint. Red and yellow clash and spiral beside each other, at first an indistinguishable mess of colours, until a more defined shape is added. More defined lines. By the time Kacchan is finished there’s no red or yellow left in the cans, but there’s a glorious explosion on the page beneath them. Izuku stares amazed, eyes practically twinkling.

“You’re so amazing Kacchan,” Izuku breathes out, not blinking as he watches Kacchan add a few extra highlights with the leftover blue.

And Kacchan had grown out of wanting Izuku’s praise (it was usually accompanied by a feeling of not-good-enough after all), but... well. “Of course, who do you think you’re talking to!” It was always good for his ego to remember just how better he was. Just as how it always motivated Izuku to try and catch up to how good Kacchan is.

Maybe Kacchan is a little at fault for how everything turned out...

——

It becomes a common pastime for the two of them. It surprises Izuku. He thought Kacchan didn’t want to hang out with him and his ‘nerdy’ ways anymore (even though Kacchan was just as much of a nerd, if not more so). Thought Kacchan would be so busy training for the UA exams that he wouldn’t have time to hang out even if he wanted to, but Kacchan makes time. Gets back from a run, sweating his nitro-glycerine sweat, and just hunches over Izuku’s work and criticises it, teaches him some new technique; helps him out. Throws a professional pad of design paper he got from his Dad at his head, before making himself comfortable on Izuku’s bed with practice UA questions. Even talks (not shouts, or threatens, or complains) to Izuku at school. Izuku’s not exactly sure what’s changed to make Kacchan open back up to him, but... He can’t complain. He likes having Kacchan back around again.

“So what shitty schools are you applying for?” Kacchan sneers through the fabric around his mouth, spray painting a line of purple on the paper before him.

Around them are at least twenty cans of spray paint, Izuku’s mother had been as generous as ever when Izuku asked for more paint. She had been even more ecstatic when Izuku had explained why he had wanted all the cans.

“Huh?” Izuku asked, looking up from his own piece, a metallic silver spray can in hand.

Kacchan shakes his head, face a half sneer. “What shitty school are you going to? UA has a support class, but it doesn’t have a class focused on the design aspect. If you wanted to go there, you’d have to have more than a portfolio of designs. Shiketsu High has a course just dedicated to the designing side if that’s what you wanted.”

“I can’t aim for Shiketsu! That’s way too far to commute to from here and we don’t have the finances to rent another apartment out!” Izuku panics. Shiketsu is a great high school, it’s just the practicality of it is... not justifiable.

“Then where are you aiming for?” Kacchan looks five seconds from throwing one of the cans at Izuku. “UA’s support class needs a physical prototype for its exam. You don’t know how to make the costumes you design and you don’t have time to learn how to. Why haven’t you thought of this beforehand, shitty nerd?!”

“It’s only been a month or two since I changed goals Kacchan, I haven’t had a chance to look at high schools yet...” Izuku looks over at Kacchan sceptically. “How do you even know all of this Kacchan?”

“My shitty parents...” Kacchan sprays an agitated line of purple, it looks like it’d melt the paper beneath. “Especially my shitty father. They keep up to date on what schools have promising students and courses for fashion.”

“Do... Hero costume and fashion courses cross over a lot?” Izuku asks and Kacchan snorts.

“Obviously. Dad started out on a Hero course, changed to a Hero costume design course and now designs clothes for everyone,” Kacchan explains. “There’s plenty of cross over, and you should know this already! Do research Deku! I thought you were being less stupid nowadays!”

“I will, Kacchan, I’ll do it tonight,” Izuku promises and Kacchan grumbles, before they go back to their own paintings.

Izuku... can’t help but be grateful for how lucky he’s been. His dreams as a Hero... might still sting, but this new tentative dream. (And it is tentative, he hasn’t even done research like Kacchan’s said or thought any further than the next day). This new dream... he has people cheering him on. Kacchan gives him pointers and sets him on the right track (not to mention he insisted on Izuku keeping the gloves and mouth cover he threw at him that first day, claiming he had plenty spare for mountain climbing). His mother buys him anything he needs or desires for his new passion and... Izuku thinks maybe this new passion could become something... maybe he’ll be like Uncle Masaru; a Hero-wanna-be turned successful-designer.

It’s a little sad knowing he’s only getting this support now, but it’s understandable. He’s Quirkless and had wanted to fight people with ridiculous Quirks. And... well... looking down at what he’s doing now, the improvements he’s made in the past months are astounding.

Beneath him is a well portioned, well spray painted image of All Might. Izuku chose a pose where the Hero’s muscles are flexed, thus contorting them into complex layers and folds. He also chose one of his older costumes, so Izuku could have fun with the cape. The cape is a shimmering mess of silvers, whites and greys. It falls partly over All Might’s shoulder before falling behind him as a background. A background that twinkles like stardust and promises of a better future. Izuku’s proud of the weight the cape appears to have, almost making All Might’s promises appear as a burden on his shoulders, but not a burden that he hates having. At least if the bright smile is anything to go by.

Yeah... Izuku’s proud of his progress and work. It’s not what he dreamed of doing, it’s not what he planned and he’s not sure exactly what his future has in store, but... he’ll look into it tonight. Research and make some goals. This is something he can succeed in.

“Kacchan, pass me the light blue can.”

“Get it yourself Deku!”

Kacchan passes him the can anyway.

And this? This is something he’s enjoying as well. Being able to interact with Kacchan like they used to. They haven’t gotten over all their problems, Izuku is sure, but this is a positive start. Izuku hopes he can continue to be there for every moment of Kacchan’s journey to being a pro hero. But for now... for now he needs to focus on himself!

——

UA’s support class needs a portfolio, a physical example and a demonstration of said example. Kacchan is right in the fact that Izuku won’t be able to provide all of that in time, especially when he looks at what he needs for the portfolio alone.

At least ten separate original designs. Research into pre-existing Hero costumes/support items. Research into pre-existing support companies. A case study on one part of the support item distributing process.

The portfolio isn’t impossible, but Izuku has about a month and a half to manage all of that... on top of the practical demonstration. It’s nearly impossible and... Kacchan is also right about something else. It’s not what Izuku’s really aiming for with the whole change of career course.

He’s taken a liking to the artistic side. To the designing side. The choice of colours, the way a particular cut or shape can enhance a person’s attributes. He doesn’t really understand it all (yet), but that’s what’s interesting him so far. The aesthetics. That’s what’s caught his eye (at least for now).

It’s a little heart-breaking, but not devastating, that UA can’t give him what he wants for the future. He clicks onto another high school and it’s like that final cord tying him to his childhood dream is severed.

He won’t be a Pro Hero. Not in this lifetime.

——

Art high schools demand a lot from their portfolios, most of which Izuku has in abundance. Other than one thing... life drawing.

Izuku applies for an after school class in life drawing. Goes to it a blushing mess, leaves it a muttering mess. He didn’t realise just how valuable life drawing was for reference, but it makes sense! Clothes hide, change or enhance the form beneath. It’s almost like the layers he spray paints on the ground; one after the other, the more you add the more complicated. The more added the more complete the image.

Izuku continues the life drawing classes. Dedicates an entire sketchbook for it. Eventually he stops entering the class a blushing mess.

——

Time passes in much the same manner. Izuku learns more, experiments more and continues to rebuild his friendship with Kacchan. He applies to a few High Schools in the Tokyo region and is accepted. Kacchan gets accepted into UA (obviously). Their families celebrate, much to Kacchan’s annoyance, and life carries on. Izuku and Kacchan don’t hang out as much as they used to, high school eating up much of their time, but when they do Kacchan grumbles about his classmates and Izuku shares whatever new art technique he’s learnt.

It’s a good life. It’s not the one Izuku had expected or planned for and the sting of his previous dream is naught but a gentle ache. Life carries on this way (Kacchan complaining about a villain attack, Izuku showing off new Hero costume designs, getting excited for Kacchan in the sports festival; excitedly working towards his own school’s art exhibition) and Izuku thought it might carry on this way forever, but...

Kacchan is kidnapped.

Villains attacked UA at their summer retreat. Kidnap Kacchan. There’s other injuries, other victims, but all Izuku can focus on is Kacchan. He sits unblinking at the television screen, the computer screen, begging it for answers. His mother visits Auntie Mitsuki, makes sure she’s ok (she seems fine, assured; she’s like Kacchan like that).

Then UA make their announcement. Izuku watches, eyes never leaving the screen (not even a thrill of excitement pulsing through him at the sight of these Pro Heroes). Izuku doesn’t peel his eyes away even when the announcement finishes. It’s the right move. Not even ten minutes later the news are reporting a large scale Hero infiltration.

The number 2 Hero, Endeavour, decimates weird looking villains, while protecting civilians and the police force alike. Numerous Heroes are caught on camera, all high profile heroes, but the most eye catching is of course the number 1 Hero, All Might. All Might who stands between Kacchan and a villain. All Might who is injured and weak.

Not many people know. Izuku shouldn’t even be amongst the people who know, but All Might is deeply injured. So injured that he can only keep his heroic form going for three hours a day. Izuku had discovered the day he dared to ask All Might that damning question. Izuku’s kept quiet about it, hasn’t dared to even think about it, but now? When Kacchan’s in danger and All Might’s staring at this villain so seriously? Izuku can’t help, but think about it.

All Might has a weakness. He could fail.

Izuku shakes that thought from his head. He can’t think like that! He has to believe! All Might’s never failed before, even with this weakness tearing away at his body. Izuku watches on the edge of his seat and cheers for both All Might and Kacchan. It’s all he can do.

It’s all he can do...

——

All Might wins. Kacchan is safe. But... All Might’s weakened form is revealed to the world. He retires.

This... is all Izuku can do?

——

It’s not all he can do. Or at least he decides it’s not the least he can do.

He spent days gathering sprays paints. Spent days scouring the internet for opinions on All Might. Spent days trying to comfort a Kacchan that would yell to stop the tears from falling. He spent days fretting over the details and... just the idea of everything.

He makes his way over to the roof of a specific building in the dead of night. His bag jiggles and clacks with the sounds of metal, but that’s not important. What’s important is the building he’s going to.

It’s the building he spoke to All Might on. The building a year ago where his dreams started shattering, but that’s fine (now). Now he has a new dream and it’ll come to fruition. Now.

Izuku drops his bag on the rooftop. It lands with a horrible clang.

Izuku pulls out the first can of spray paint. Black.

Aims it at the ground and presses down. A delightful arch of spray lands down permanently staining the surface beneath him.

Izuku gulps. This is illegal. This isn’t right, but... he tightens his hand on the can and sprays again. Another layer righting itself on the rooftop. This is what he can do. This is what he can do!

It sends a delightful thrill through his body. He grins and continues.

He’ll spend all night spray painting. His clothes will be covered in the black of his work. He won’t even see the full effect of his work that night, the scale of it not viewable from his perspective. He’ll stumble into bed with a satisfied grin.

This is what he can do...

——

As the number 3 Hero Hawks doesn’t get a lot of relaxing time. As the Pro Hero that’s too fast for his own good Hawks doesn’t get to stay in the same city for more than a day without being requested somewhere else in the Country. For now, this is fine. Hawks will bear it, so others won’t have to. But, this...

He’s not even meant to be a part of... THIS! He was flying back to his agency and his path just happened to fly over the Shizuoka Prefecture, where... well. Through the vibrations of his wings he can sense the police force and a couple of local Pro Heroes debating what to do, can see and sense civilians looking at the mass of black covering the streets, but it’s not as impressive as Hawks’ view. From above it’s just... astounding.

The black spray paint has been glossed over with numerous layers, Hawks can’t imagine the time and cost spray painting like that amounts to, but it’s impressive. But, not as impressive as the size. It extends over streets; rooftops... whoever did this didn’t leave one area unpainted. But they skilfully also didn’t let the paint drip away from their intended area either.

The words ‘I AM HERE’ look amazingly bold from a bird’s eye view and... Hawks can’t help but whistle in appreciation. Sure, the words are going to cost a fortune to get rid of (the graffiti artist had even gone over some plants and lampposts, forcing the lights to stay prematurely on), but it’s impressive.

He shouldn’t. Other Heroes and the Government probably won’t be happy, but. Well Hawks does his very best to ignore them anyways. His large red wings fly him high above the ground, he takes his phone out and with the laziest grin he can manage he takes a selfie with the graffiti.

A couple of tries to fit himself and the words in shot perfectly and it’s posted online for his fans and the world to see. He’ll worry about the repercussions and catching the graffiti artist later, he’s meant to be a few prefectures over already. With that decided he shoots off. Unaware of the changes he’s about to make on the life of an un-expecting 15 year old.

Chapter Text

“Izuku, honey,” a voice precedes the knock, disturbing Izuku from his slumber. “You getting out of bed? ¬It’s almost 12.”

“Yeah... yeah, Mum,” Izuku yawns. “Just a minute.”

“Alright,” Izuku can hear some movement outside his door. “Don’t be too long, I’ll reheat breakfast.”

“Thanks Mum,” Izuku yawns again and raises his hand to cover his mouth. It never reaches its destination, frozen in front of his eyes.

Izuku stares.

His hands are still in the gloves Kacchan had gifted him... He hopes Kacchan won’t be angry with him, but... the gloves are completely covered in black. Every finger, the thumb, the palm. Some has even passed the gloves protective edges and spread across his skin. The edge of his hoodie is just as covered and-

Well. Izuku had forgotten to change out of his outfit from last night... this would be incredibly incriminating to walk in on...

Izuku stares a while. His heartbeat slowly increasing as his eyes stare almost unseeingly.

He... he did something so stupid and incriminating and- Oh God! It wasn’t like a little art piece someone could ignore, it was large and destructive and- Oh God! He’s probably ruined so many people’s days and what’s the likelihood someone will actually get the meaning from the piece he made? Non-existent!

Izuku tugs his hoodie overhead. It gets stuck on his ears. He tugs harder. Remembers it’s a zipper hoodie and unzips the hoodie; tosses it off in the far corner. The metal zipper hits the ground with a loud twang that makes him wince.

Totally not suspicious.

He take a deep breath, chokes on it; takes another.

Calm down... he needs to calm down. Needs to change clothes (dispose of the incriminating clothing) and wash away any evidence without his mother noticing... or confess. Tell his mother, march himself down to the police station and apologise profusely... and probably be in debt for the rest of his short existence... He can’t believe he did that!

“Why?” He quietly mumbles to himself as he falls out of bed, his legs tangled with the bed sheets. “Why?”

But, it’s a useless question. Izuku knows why. He had planned to do this... maybe a little hastily, and definitely a whole lot on autopilot, but... but he had planned this... and he was definitely going to get caught. He hadn’t exactly been stealthy about buying those hundreds of black spray paint cans. He hadn’t exactly been stealthy in the process of painting his hometown. Everything will eventually lead to him and he should just admit to his crimes...

Except they don’t really feel like a crime to him...

He stands in the corner over his blackened hoodie and pries his gloves off to join them. Slips his jeans off as well, little splatters littering their blueness. He eyes his white t-shirt and boxers... they seem fine, but... He strips them off, adds them to the pile of crime and changes into a new clean outfit.

With a sigh he looks at the clothes on the floor... what can he do with them? He and his mother have an open door policy, because... well he has (had) nothing to hide. Sure, they’re both polite about it; knocking before entering, letting the other have space if needed, but... where can he hide this for now? And how can he get rid of it without looking suspicious?

He opens the bag from last night. A few droplets of black paint are splashed on the straps, but not enough to look alarming. Colour already flecked across its yellow surface. The inside is filled with cans (Izuku expects they’re all empty, but he’ll check for sure later) and forces the dirty clothes in there. He zips the bag shut, barely, and shoves it partially under his bed.

Later. He’ll sort that out later.

For now, he approaches his bedroom door slowly. So slowly, it’s like the door is a wild animal he’s trying not to startle. His hand brushes against the door handle, and with a deep breath, he opens it.

It creaks ominously.

His breath catches in his throat.

Maybe he should-

“Izuku! Your food’s all heated up, I’ll leave it on the table for you,” his mother’s call startles him.

“Th... Thanks Mum,” he swallows to get the words out. “I’ll... be right there.”

Izuku’s bedroom is the closest to the bathroom. It’ll be a quick dash to get there. He just... has to do it quickly (and now) so his mother doesn’t look down the hallway and catch Izuku red(black)-handed.

One last breath to steady himself and- he dashes.

It’s nothing practiced or graceful like Kacchan. It’s a mad scramble that probably sounds atrocious, but Izuku’s not listening to his own foot falls. All he’s doing is keeping his eyes on the goal and going for it. He can’t be caught.

He grabs the bathroom’s door and-

“There’s some weird news nearby today!” His mother calls out.

“One second, Mum!” He calls back and almost slams the door to the bathroom behind him. Great. He got in undiscovered and completely natural...

Oh! He’s probably more suspicious now than he’s ever been in his life! Who makes a mad dash to the bathroom like that? People with something to hide or someone desperate. Izuku represses a groan, hiding his face in his hands. Maybe he can pretend life doesn’t exist beyond the darkness of his hands?

No. He can’t.

With a sigh he looks up at the mirror. The top of his cheeks are smudged with black, covering a few freckles. There’s a line of black on his neck. There’s probably some in his hair, but if there is, it’s blended in with the rest of it. Izuku’s... never gotten this messy from spray painting before... Was it because he was doing it at night and couldn’t see everything clearly? Was it because he was rushing to get everything done; terrified of being caught? Was it because of the sheer amount of spray painting he did?

He... he can’t believe he went that far... Yes, it went exactly how he planned. Izuku had printed maps out and planned the best route to do it, but... actually having done it... it was destructive and costly and so exhilarating- Izuku shouldn’t think like that! He shouldn’t! He can’t get a criminal record, that’ll affect the rest of his life, but... it had been fun...

He slaps his cheeks, stares himself in the eyes and looks serious.

“You are never doing something like that again,” he tells his reflection. “That was stupid.”

He nods as though he agrees, but... there’s a little spark in his eye. A spark that speaks of impossible dreams. Izuku has experience with impossible dreams, he chased one for 14 years; he knows the gleam won’t go away. He ignores that fact and starts trying to wash the black out of his skin.

“Never again,” Izuku mutters to himself, already planning to read every newsfeed online about the problems of street art. “Never again.”

——

“Izuku,” his mother watches his with wide eyes. “Are you feeling well?”

Tentatively he sits in the chair where his food is waiting. It’s probably gone cold again, what with how long it took to clean himself up.

“Yeah,” he picks up the chopsticks. “I’m alright... a little exhausted though.”

“You must be working too hard at school,” she says sympathetically and yeah, that’s Izuku’s heart clenching; tugging insistently at his conscience.

“Yeah...” Izuku murmurs, before taking a hearty bite of eggs. “But, I’m feeling better now, what were you saying about the news earlier?”

“Oh!” His mother smiles at him. “It was something I thought you’d be interested in, what with your new hobby, but there was a report on a spray painting last night. It was all over the news, it’s causing quite the ruckus.”

“It is...?” Izuku’s almost afraid to ask. “Why?”

“Well the piece went over at least a block of buildings, and the police and Heroes were asking for any info on who could have committed it,” his mother pauses for a moment; gives him a look. “You won’t do something dangerous like that, right Izuku? I’m fine with your hobby, but don’t go doing street art without permission.”

“Of course,” Izuku’s mouth is particularly dry as he swallows down his eggs. His mother gives him a proud look.

“You’re a good kid, Izuku. I’m lucky to have you.”

“Yeah... I’m lucky to have you too Mum,” he really can’t do it again. No more street art... and, no getting caught... “So what was it about the police?”

“Oh! Right! They haven’t been able to discover anything about the street artist, and no one seems to know anything. At least yet...” she pauses, as though debating if she should add something. “What’s more controversial is that Hero in the top ten... the one with the red wings?”

“Hawks?”

“Yes,” she smiles fondly, “you always know your Heroes. But, he took his photo with the street art and... Well he’s being criticised for it.”

“He did? He is?” Izuku blinks, stuffing his mouth with another bite of egg. It’s... not unusual to expect something like that from Hawks. He was famous for saying or doing controversial things...

“Thanks for breakfast Mum!” Izuku calls; scrambling from his seat and heading to his room quickly. He hears a huff from his mother clearly amused, but she doesn’t stop him. He’s glad, because...

He makes a mad grab for his phone and scrolls through his twitter feed. He follows a lot of Pro Heroes... Mostly Pro Heroes. Hawks being the number 3, with a large fan following was obviously amongst the Heroes Izuku follows. It doesn’t take long to find the picture.

Hawks is clearly flying high above the ground, a couple of red feathers frame the bottom and left side of the photo; half of Hawks’ face (the half covered by his goggles) peering at the camera in the bottom left corner, and the rest of the photo... Izuku stares in awe. That... he made that... How did he make that?!

The words are bold and clear. There’s a clear clarification to each character, so the ‘I AM HERE’ is distinct and discernible. Izuku had worried he might not have enough cans to spray everything that he wanted. Worried the colour might fade at certain points and... Well if he failed there was nowhere he could resupply at that time of night, but it came out fine. It came out great! The black is loud and proud; making the words appear bigger and stronger than they are. It’s exactly how Izuku had imagined it.

Izuku can feel tears building up. It’s exactly how he wanted it. He wanted this world filled with fear over All Might’s retirement to remember that he’s still here. He’s still smiling. There’s still hope. All Might is here. All the Pro Heroes are still here. Crime won’t win... The irony that he used a criminal activity to portray that wasn’t lost on him, but... He did it.

He did it!

He did it... with his work being acknowledged by another Pro Hero. He gulps as he looks over at Hawks’ face in the corner. His eyebrows and eyes are the only viewable part of his facial expression and even they’re... kind of not fully distinguishable through the goggles. He doesn’t... look angry? If only his face was a little up... maybe Hawks’ would be... grinning?

Probably... probably not. Hawks is a Pro Hero! He can’t just go endorsing criminal activities. Especially Hawks. For all his controversies Hawks became the number 3 hero in a relatively short time for a reason. He doesn’t let a crime go unanswered. He... He’ll probably be looking for Izuku... and if it’s Hawks’ looking for him. Well, Izuku doesn’t doubt Hawks’ ability to find him.

He... he definitely should stop spray painting public property. Well. He’d already decided that. That’s what he’s already decided. No. Spray painting should be a harmless activity. Something he does for fun. Right, no more. He’s done with spray painting. Even if he thinks it’s for a good reason...

Izuku looks down at his phone with Hawks and his art on. He scrolls down. To the comments.

——

They’re... they’re pleasant.

Sure, they’re mostly directed towards Hawks (of course they are, it’s his social media feed). But, lost between the ‘looking good Hawks’, ‘ah, flying must be so cool!’ and ‘go to sleep Hawks’ there’s a few comments directed towards Izuku’s art.

Some are complimentary of the stylised font. Some are negative, debating the kind of person who would negatively impact the lives of others like this. And some... some get Izuku’s message- or find their own message, amongst the layers- and are surprisingly supportive.

‘All Might IS still here!’

‘From below it looks like a mess, but from up above its so cool looking! I wonder if that’s what being at the top feels like?’

‘All Might deserves to rest well! Others can fill in the gaps left behind!’

The onslaught of messages is overwhelming. Izuku wonders if Hawks and other celebrities have to deal with this on a normal basis... Izuku’s happy to be anonymous, if only to avoid all this (and prison). But... it is heartening to see. The criticisms aren’t without fault and the support... the support is heady, but!

But.

Izuku’s decided no more street art. No more graffiti.

He looks over at a mostly empty sketch pad.

That... that doesn’t mean he can’t... design something though... right?

——

Designing something was surprisingly difficult. Not the design aspect. That was easy. Izuku’s been spray painting All Might in so many different ways for a year now that, that it wasn’t hard to conceptualise a new piece, but actually designing it for a place outside? That... that was hard.

Izuku had gotten used to sketch pads, card, paper; whatever he could get his hands on to spray paint on (legally) that having the world as his sandbox was... overwhelming. What made street artists choose the places they did? What about the size of the pieces? They could be as large as they wanted! Maybe... not as large as his last piece? That was a little... too destructive.

Not that he was going to spray paint this design into existence! This was just an idea. A concept. But... where do people usually do street art and why?

Izuku had chosen his area, because it was where All Might had shared his secret with Izuku. That piece started where Izuku had learnt All Might was weakened and nearing retirement. That piece meant something to Izuku, not that anyone would know what, so... maybe this new piece, concept, needed to have some kind of meaning? If only for Izuku?

He was going to do a piece on All Might (of course), but where... The place was obvious when Izuku thought about it.

“I’m going out Mum!” He called through the house.

“Wha- where are you going Izuku?” His mother called back, worried.

“Just for a walk! I have my phone on me if you need me!” He slips his shoes on and is gone. Leaving his mother behind to sigh and shake her head over her ridiculous boy.

He doesn’t need to walk far, but he does have to walk over... his graffiti from the previous night. He walks stiffly, terrified. You always hear how criminals who go back to the scene of the crime get caught and here he is; walking right over it.

There’s a lot of people around. Some people working hard to try and wash it off. Some taking their pictures with the splotches of black on the ground before they’re ushered off. There are Heroes around, talking (probably investigating). Izuku gets passed them all without alerting anyone to his presence (and without crying in awe of the Heroes around). But, it’s terrifying and putting him on edge.

There are just so many people watching what he did. So many people. Sure Hawks’ picture had thousands of likes for only being online for a couple of hours. Sure the graffiti was kind of trending. But... that is too many people fussing over the work of one person. Izuku wonders if this is how Kacchan feels, everyone watching his every move and action. And judging. So much judging.

Izuku takes a deep breath. Calms himself. Izuku... Izuku is used to being judged negatively, he’s Quirkless after all, this... this is nothing... Other than the hundreds of people directly judging him has become thousands of people judging him!

Deep breath. Deep breath.

He carries on. He has a goal. He’ll get there, but... well he can understand why he shouldn’t do pieces that big again. Izuku had covered the lines on the road, covered street lights; he was destructive. The reasoning was pure, the meaning was righteous, the execution... less so. He’ll do better next time, keep it more contained to a smaller subject area.

Not that he’s actually going to paint anywhere. Not again.

Eyes forward, gait confident, Izuku walks towards his first meeting place with All Might. The place All Might had saved him from that slime villain over a year ago. So long ago now...

Izuku had... kind of been avoiding this place. The trauma of being attacked by a villain, the trauma of having his dreams crushed; the trauma. It was the quickest route from his old school to his house, but the extra twenty minute detour was just better for Izuku’s nerves after that incident. Now? Now he’s feeling fine. He’s feeling confident.

He strolls up to the under-path and proceeds to fall flat on his face, his shoelaces caught up together. Maybe too confident.

He picks himself up, brushes himself down and walks, more carefully, towards the under-path.

The bridge above is a cool steel embedded into asphalt. Some metal wires and cords protrude randomly beneath the bridge, but the walls of asphalt are smooth to touch. It’s dark down here and Izuku has no idea why he wasn’t afraid of being attacked here before he actually was. He eyes the man-cover, where the slime villain had protruded from and- yeah. This area was perfect.

It was a small shadowed corner in need of light. Light All Might’s bright smiles and confident demeanour could provide.

Not that he was actually going to spray paint it. Just plan... And what plans he can already imagine!

Like, imagine walking through a tunnel and being completely surrounded by art. Walking through a colourful collage of All Might. Every colour proud and vibrant against the next. Promising that even this tiny corner of the world was being looked over and couldn’t be touched by evil. It would’ve made Izuku’s journey home fearless, even after the attack.

Izuku takes pictures of the surrounding area on his phone. Touches the walls. Plans.

But only plans. He’s not a criminal. He won’t be actually spray painting the area.

——

Hawks’ day had been, as suspected, busy. Meeting with government officials always put a damper on things, especially with their current... suggestion.

Hawks sighed.

The League of Villains... had infiltrated UA, kidnapped a UA student; was just being a general nuisance and Hawks has to infiltrate them. Hawks would be lying if he said he hadn’t been keeping a distant eye on it before he had been officially put on the job; that’s why he had a UA student interning with him when he had no desire to help the next generation of Heroes, but this... This is just too much.

He’ll do it. Of course he will, if it helps out his fellow Heroes he’ll do so much worse, but... was there much worse than helping a crazed group of villains harm civilians and other Heroes just to earn their trust? Hawks knows there is- the villains continued torment of the general public. Their complete disregard of the rest of the world and the laws in place to keep the peace. Their madness. Letting that stay out on the streets... Hawks can’t allow that, so he’ll help them, as a rouse. Help them, manipulate them, until he or someone else can take them out. It just doesn’t help having government officials breathing down his neck every second he’s doing what they ask of him. Especially right now.

Right now he wants to find the graffiti artists!

He huffs and flops forward on his desk. His wings flutter behind him, each feather moving and thrumming with its own power. Each wing feeling the vibrations in the air, giving him more information of his surroundings than anyone else.

His Hero agency is tall, one of the tallest due to both his ability of flight and being the third (soon to be second) highest ranking Hero, and it’s empty. Well, mostly empty. He had sent the sidekicks home an hour ago, sent the government officials he had a private meeting with off ten minutes ago and he sensed the second they stepped out of the building, all that remained were the cleaning staff.

Hawks should probably go arrange a meeting with the League again. He’d at least managed to make contact with Dabi, but...

He takes his phone out, looking at his social media.

That graffiti was amazing.

Not only was it masterfully done, the layers on it were insane. Hawks has done his research and street artists usually got away with what they were doing due to less layers and stencils. A quick spray and away they go, but this piece... It was clearly impossible to go over the surface they used with a stencil and Hawks had seen the layers. There were more layers than some paintings had. The sheer amount of spray painting cans used for this must have been spectacular.

Hawks had received news that local shops selling spray paint couldn’t recall any features of the person who recently brought out their black cans, but the little seen on CCTV made it seem like one person. An accomplice to shake up the investigation or was it one person alone who did the piece? Either is viable, but what kind of Quirk would someone have to have to do that as fast as they did?

Hawks wouldn’t be surprised if they had a similar Quirk to his. Being able to fly up high to assess the work, being able to fly over security cameras and the speed wings gave… It’s possible, but if it was just one lone artist... they were going to have a serious list of crimes. Public use of a Quirk, property damage... a lot of property damage.

Hawks kind of doesn’t want them to be caught. At least like that.

With a quick stretch, Hawks stands up, pulls his goggles back on and exits the building through a window. His wings catch an air current and hurtle him high and fast through the air. It’s a great feeling. The wind against his hair, face and wings. He grins, wings gliding him swiftly through the air.

A little investigation never hurt anyone and as long as Hawks did his job well no one could complain.

——

He’s not going to spray paint the under-pass. He’s just planning concept art. He’s not actually doing it. Those words were a mantra in Izuku’s head, even as he hid his stained clothes and empty can so he could put a new set of paints in his bag.

He’s not going to spray paint the under-path. He’s not going to spray paint anything illegally. He was an upstanding citizen. These were just some of the words repeated through his mind as he slipped out of his house for a second night in a row. Slipped out into the dark of night in a hoodie, jeans and a bright yellow bag. His mother asleep in her room. The door shut behind him silently, the world undisturbed... temporarily.

He wasn’t going to cause more problems for their local community. He wasn’t going to cause any problems, full stop. It was hard to tell himself that with a bag that rattled ominously with metal.

He passed Kacchan’s building and wondered how he was doing. He’d been rescued without injury of course, but he’d been angry the last Izuku saw. Truly and immensely angry. An anger Izuku hadn’t seen in some time. Izuku hopes Kacchan gets some outlet for it, especially with the UA teacher meeting Auntie Mitsuki mentioned.

Izuku shakes himself out of it; he has street art to be creating, he can’t be seen just standing around on the side walk. He looks forward and marches, ignorant of the sudden acceptance of what he’s about to do. He’s a street artist now, whether it makes him a law abiding citizen or not.

At least after this piece he has no more personal All Might memories to revisit to spray paint. No, just over a decade worth of fanboy memories...

He’ll be fine.

And he is!

Getting to the under-path is a simple matter. He had a moment of worry; what would he do if someone was there? But, it was empty as he walked in and set his bag down to the side.

He puts the mask/scarf Kacchan has gifted him on. Places on a new pair of gloves. Takes out a new can, a vibrant yellow to lighten up this dark corner of night, and sprays.

The yellow initially looks sickly in the under-paths faded light, but another layer and another layer transforms the yellow before him. The sickly colour becomes bold, bright. A beacon of hope... just like All Might.

It takes him time that night to actually create the work he means too. Yesterday’s work was hard for sheer scale and remembering the city’s layout exactly so as to not misalign the words, but today? Today is less typography and more human figure and movement.

On one wall Izuku paints All Might leaping forward. All Might’s gaze focused forward on something beyond the under-path’s walls. His body is tucked up in a ball, half way between his leap off the ground and his descent downwards, but the body doesn’t appear weak, frail or constricted. There’s a strength and freeness in All Might’s frame even tucked up in a ball like that. Izuku tried capturing the feel of the wind whipping past at impossible speeds, tried capturing the way nothing stood in All Might’s way when he leapt forward; tries to capture the feeling he got when he clung to All Might’s leg and the world around them zipped away.

The opposite wall has All Might punching forward. All Might’s signature smash is so powerful. Izuku remembers the feeling of it hitting the villain beside him. Even with All Might controlling the area it hit, even with All Might taking care not to harm Izuku; Izuku felt like his face would come apart and fly away from him with the simple blow. Izuku tries to capture that strength. Makes the image closer than the jumping one, contorts the picture and angle so much that all that can be seen is All Might’s fist, shoulder and face. His face is shadowed, so the blue of All Might’s eyes seem to glow and reach out of the picture. It makes All Might appear omnipresent; that he’ll always see where evil is.

The floor... Izuku wasn’t sure about spray painting the floor at first. Wasn’t sure how he’d feel about people walking over All Might, but Izuku knew what he wanted to put there and he did. It starts as a trail of footsteps, they’re noticeable due to the sand he spray paints around and at the end All Might can be seen walking forward from above. The All Might he spray paints here is the weakened form of All Might, but his gait and vision never falter. Although he has weaknesses he’s as strong as ever and the footsteps left behind can be imitated, but never succeeded. Izuku thinks this All Might is the strongest.

Above... well it’s a struggle for numerous reasons. It’s hard to reach and there’s wires and slates of metal crisscrossing for who knows what reason, but... but Izuku is determined. Determined and has a plan. In the photos he took for reference earlier he noticed one clear space at one end of under-path. It’s the opposite end from where all the other All Mights are walking, leaping and punching towards, but this All Might was going to be gazing differently anyway. There’s a little box filled with electronics that Izuku carefully balances on, before reaching up and spray painting the ceiling.

This piece won’t be as impressive in scale. It won’t crawl across the walls, demanding every surface its attention. Instead it’s All Might standing above everyone, the bottom of his shoes large and noticeable. But he’s bending forward, looking down and smiling. It’s a reassuring smile, one that makes Izuku feel happy and safe. All Might looks down, but he doesn’t feel unreachable, it feels like he’s there for every single person around.

Izuku smiles up at his work and jumps down. Heading over to his bag, he takes note of himself, there’s colour draped over his clothes again, though not nearly as bad as the night before. Maybe it’s the lack of frantic movements he used yesterday, maybe it’s the light making it easier to see what he’s doing, whatever it is he won’t look suspicious walking home tonight.

He yawns, hides the cans in his bag and goes to leave. Proud, satisfied and a little bit terrified. Was this too extreme again?

He ponders, looks back at his art once more; gets so lost in his thoughts for a moment that he doesn’t notice the person approaching. He probably wouldn’t have noticed this person approaching in the first place, what with how fast and skilled they are.

“You should do Endeavour next,” the person says and Izuku jumps out of his skin.

Skittishly he turns to look at the person. Denials or embarrassed babble at the tip of his tongue. He chokes on air when he sees the red wings. His eyes bulge when he notices the carefree smile on the Hero’s face. He completely and utterly freezes.

…Hawks?

Chapter Text

Hawks had returned to the Graffiti the very same day he had first seen it. It was dark, late and a few Pro Heroes were patrolling the area. It was unlikely that the graffiti artist would return, at least so soon, but there was always a chance and more pressingly there were a lot of people lurking. Most probably nosey citizens, but with All Might’s retirement no one was taking any second chances.

Hawks greeted the other Heroes, but didn’t really engage or direct himself as a part of the patrol. He was here, unofficially, to investigate. He was known for doing what he liked and getting the job done fast, so he’d most likely be left to his own accords.

He flew high above the ground, same distance and height from earlier that day and has to whistle in appreciation. The area below him is pitch black, few lights flickering in the bleak night-time air. Their graffiti artist had to have worked in this darkness with no light. Light disturbed this darkness with a certainty, light would have been honed in on for potential witnesses. Count the fact their artist was working with black... it was impressive. Impressive enough to spray paint in the same area a second night in a row?

It would be stupid. There was no doubt in that, it’d be smarter to spray paint somewhere else in the country. Leave it a couple days and when the hype dies down, make another grand piece. Maybe even repaint the piece below that clean up teams were already working to destroy. It would be stupid to come out and paint again tonight, but it would be daring. Almost as daring as painting that first piece.

Deciding he’d probably stared at the darkness below him long enough, he stretches his wings out and makes a couple of loops around the area. His feathers could track nearby movement, great for rescue missions when the victim was hidden beneath rubble and great for scouting. Hawks spends his night flying, stopping petty crimes with a feather or two and searching.

He doesn’t often get time for himself, rarely sleeps with all the work he has to do and he’s just tired. Always so tired. He wishes the Hero community could be more peaceful. Wishes everyone didn’t have to work more than a couple of hours a day and tonight... tonight he’s pushing himself to the limits and would probably feel the same way, if he didn’t catch a... peculiar feeling through his feathers.

A little off, not quite near enough for Hawks to have caught if he hadn’t been paying complete attention, is a person moving about frantically. Hawks can feel them walk in a line and then retrace the exact same path. Can feel their arm move in sleek circular movements, crouch low, rise to their tiptoes. Now that he’s focused on it, he can’t help but notice how energetic the person moving about is. How much kinetic energy is going on.

Oh and the distinct sense of a spray directed at a wall. Can’t forget that.

Following the direction his wings take him leads to a barely lit, from the outside, under-path. The path above isn’t currently being used, so Hawks doesn’t have to worry about him being spotted, but this close up he can hear the sounds of an aerosol can being used. A street artist; a copycat or an unfortunate third party?

He moves closer. Carefully, as to not startle the graffiti artist.

The kid, and it’s definitely a kid; they’re small and youthful in appearance, is balancing precariously on an electric metre. Their body wobbles dangerously close to the edge, not that the electric metre is far off the ground, but their hand is steady, as they spray the ceiling of the under-path. Hawks can’t see what the kid is doing up there, but the other walls? Oh he can see them clearly.

The most clearly seen from his viewpoint is the ground. It’s mostly yellows used on this ground, but not just. There’s golds, browns; oranges and somehow. Somehow those colours blend well together to make a pretty realistic sand effect on the ground. So realistic it feels like the sand should be overflowing out of the under-path. That there should be little granules of sand drifting in the air around them and out of the under-path. There isn’t, of course, and this street artist hasn’t let even a slither of paint extend past the under-path. It’s all self-contained and professionally done. Not a fleck goes where it wasn’t intended, just like the work from yesterday (this morning?).

The sand isn’t the only thing on the ground. There’s a person walking towards the entrance Hawks is flying above. The figure is All Might, but not the form that was well known to the public until recently. His hair is an unruly mess, his clothes baggy and he walks forward unbothered by his new appearance. Behind him is the sand, his footprints stand out. The detail and realism to them... it makes a person think they could really step in All Might’s footsteps.

Then there’s the walls. The first wall Hawks sees has All Might, in his usual heroic form, leaping forward. His hands and clothes moving in a way Hawks can attest is how flying through the air would feel like. Hawks knows All Might can’t fly, the man can leap and bound (admittedly for ridiculous distances), but this picture? This picture would trick even Hawks into believing All Might could fly.

Adjusting his position Hawks gets a view of the final wall. A close up of All Might punching an imagined enemy. Even this image has an edge of realism to it. Hawks feels like this All Might is willing to break the fourth wall to extend out of the literal wall to punch an enemy. There’s a weight to his expression that makes it feel like he’s watching you.

So… talented artist, super All Might fanboy or someone who knows a little more than they should?

Clearly there is talent behind the kid’s spray painting. Hawks isn’t exactly an arty kind of guy. He knows vaguely how to aim a camera, but he knows that (only vaguely) because of his modelling job and excessive amount of selfie taking. The little he knows of spray painting was due to the research he did earlier after discovering the original piece. He’s not an arty guy, but he is observant and these pieces (and the kid’s original large piece, because Hawks has no doubt this kid is behind that piece) has to have been done by a talented hand. The proportions are exactly right and the angles used are nothing to laugh at. Talented; yes.

Super All Might fanboy? Hawks would assume yes. It’s not the first All Might fanboy to turn to crime in a bid to help society. (The Hero killer Stain comes to mind). But, Hawks won’t assume, those who hate All Might have obsessive tendencies as well and for all Hawks knows the kid just thinks this is a good way to help now that All Might has retired... Or, cynically, is just an artist trying to take advantage of the current All Might trend, what with his retirement and everything. Hawks somehow doubts that last one, but it wouldn’t do to assume.

Then there’s the maybe knowing too much... There’s a certain edge to these pieces about All Might that rings... a little too true. Like maybe the kid had experienced what he’s drawing from personally, or at least seen it up close. Especially the image on the ground, All Might’s true form hadn’t been public information for long and yet the kid had added impossible to know details. Maybe it’s chance or luck or intuition, but Hawks isn’t banking on that. The kid knows more that he should. Hawks is sure, but... well the kid isn’t seemingly doing anything horrible with that information.

What to do...?

Logically, Hawks should stop the kid from creating graffiti, arrest him; hand him over to the proper authorities, but... well Hawks wasn’t going to do that in the first place. Well, he would have (and he might still), it just depends on a couple of the kid’s answers to his questions. He hopes the kid answers right, he kinda likes the art.

Art that large (and now colourful) doesn’t manifest itself out of nothing. He can’t wait to know the reason why the kid was doing this.

Talking about the kid though... He was a short little thing and clearly didn’t know how exactly to scale buildings or anything like that... At least that’s what Hawks gathered from the kid balancing precariously on his tiptoes. He also didn’t seem to have any spatial awareness, Hawks had been watching him for a fair while now without alerting the kid that he was around. How had this kid managed to spray paint that much ground yesterday?

It could be a Quirk, but... if the kid had one he wasn’t obviously using it now. It could be a passive Quirk, a Quirk not useful for this situation or the kid was Quirkless. Hawks couldn’t tell what it was, but... well he’ll just keep alert when he confronted the kid. If he had a Quirk that lets him slip away, Hawks would just remember his features well enough to find him personally.

He observes them now. The light hits the kid at an odd angle, but not odd enough to obscure the kid’s freckled cheeks or dark hair (that has a hint of green to it). They’re not exactly plain features, but Hawks can understand why the investigation led the police to an incredibly generalised description of the kid. If Hawks wasn’t paying attention (and catching the kid in the act), he’s pretty sure the kid would have gone under his radar. There’s nothing special about him at first glance, especially in a world filled with the weirdest and most wonderful of abilities. Green hair and freckles were an ordinary every day thing nowadays. The average in a world of the extraordinary.

An average looking kid that creates such extraordinary work. No one would suspect a thing and even though the kid is clearly not experienced (or maybe he’s cocky, they’re the only reasons someone would be out a second night in a row, if you knew people were looking for you) he makes up for it with his unassuming demeanour. Hawks is sure the kid would have gotten away with it tonight if Hawks had listened to the government officials about contacting the league of villains as soon as humanly possible.

He’s glad he didn’t listen.

The kid finishes his work about two, thirty am. Hawks doesn’t know when the kid first arrived, but he had been watching him work for about twenty minutes, before he jumps off the electric metre and glances around himself. Hawks keeps out of sight for now and watches as the kid takes in his work and the mess he’s left around.

“Ah,” the kid panics, which is not what Hawks had expected at all (but makes sense), and starts gathering the spray paint cans.

He stuffs them in a yellow bag, which is a little obnoxious and Hawks has to question how the kid remained undetected with a bag like that, before rushing out of the under-path. Hawks watches his fast footfalls and wonders. Should he announce his presence now? Follow him home and research the kid? Wait for a second-

The kid turns around and looks back at his work. Four walls covered with his effort. Even in the night, Hawks catches the gleam in the kid’s eyes. Honest awe and amazement.

“You should do Endeavour next,” Hawks says, giving away his position.

The kid startles badly. Almost tripping over his feet, eyes bulging wide and jaw dropping wide open.

Hawks watches him, not unlike his namesake, and wonders. How will the kid act when he stops being shocked? Would he run? Use his maybe-Quirk? Play dumb?

“This is usually where you run,” Hawks says, hoping it’ll help hurry this part of the conversation on. Alas, the kid startles him.

“No, it’s not,” the words are said quietly, with a certain amount of warble that has Hawks straining his ears to hear.

“Yeah, it is,” Hawks says.

“No... No, villains, criminals; they don’t even have a chance to realise they’ve been caught when you find them,” the kid’s eyes are wide and sparkling in what Hawks now recognises as Hero worship. “This... this part doesn’t even happen...”

“You’re a fan?” Hawks asks, landing on the ground beside the kid. The kid moves to accommodate for his wings.

“I... Yeah... Yeah, I’m a huge fan of Heroes...” the kid trails off, almost hyperventilating. Hawks wonders if he’s on the verge of fainting, or asking for an autograph (Hawks would definitely prefer the later).

“What’s up with all this then?” Hawks gestures towards the walls of the under-path, as he steps towards it. Willingly turning his back on the kid, not concerned that he’ll run off, he’d catch him in mere seconds and the kid seems to realise that.

“Ah... right...” he follows behind; Hawks’ peering at the walls (it really is more impressive up close like this). “You’re gonna arrest me?”

“Maybe,” Hawks answers honestly, walking towards the area he saw the kid working on just out of sight. “What’s your name?”

“Izuku Midoriya,” he answers dutifully, continuing to trail behind him. He’s almost like a lost puppy.

“Not trying to run away?” Hawks peers over his shoulder at him. He looks like a lost puppy as well.

“There... there’s no point. One of your feathers could incapacitate me and,” the kid looks at the walls around him, “well, I did commit a crime. I’ll face the consequences.”

Hawks hums in thought, definitely not what he was expecting, but he brushes that aside for a moment. He has the last image to observe.

Standing above him, peering down, is the last image of All Might. He’s got a bright smile, his eyes earnest and pleased. This All Might seems to be trying to encourage the viewer on, almost like a guardian angel. Hawks hums.

“Um...” Hawks looks over at the kid, he’s shaking with his nerves. “Shouldn’t... shouldn’t you be handing me over right now?”

“Handing you over?”

“To... to the police?” Midoriya chokes on the words, and it is a little amusing watching the kid struggle with the concept even after admitting he was at fault (though maybe that’s a little mean, the kid looks genuinely terrified).

“Well it depends, you still haven’t answered,” he gestures around them, “what’s up with all this?”

“Ah... I... I wanted to help out. With... with All Might retiring people are panicking and crime rates are on the rise, so... I wanted to try and ease people’s worries. All I’m really good at is art though, so all I could think of was... this...” Midoriya’s face flushes bright red and Hawks can see a few tears gathering at the edge of his eyes. “That... that was kind of stupid now that I’m thinking about it. I just added to the crime rate.”

“Yeah, definitely stupid,” Hawks agrees, not one to shy away from the truth even if it makes his fan shrink into himself. “There are legal ways to go around doing this. Less destructive ways.”

“Right...”

“It’s not a bad reason though,” Hawks allows, because really this is what he was hoping for. “Maybe a little misguided in execution, but not bad.”

He peers around at each image in turn. These are powerful. They stand out. They make promises.

“You just need a legal way to spray paint, which you can get if you actually make requests to the people who own buildings, and a better means of getting your message across,” Hawks looks at Midoriya, who looks like he’s processing everything he’s saying carefully and filing it away for later.

“What... what do you mean a better way to get my message across?” He asks, just like Hawks was hoping for.

“I take it you’re a fan of All Might,” Hawks gestures to a wall with a wing, as Midoriya nods his head. “I’m not necessarily a fan of All Might, but I respect what he’s stood for and done. Isn’t this though, just going to remind people of what’s been lost? There are other Heroes out there now that are struggling to fill in the gaps he’s left with his retirement and a whole society terrified of what the future has in store with Endeavour being the new number 1. If you want to help ease people’s fear, shouldn’t you be looking towards the future, not the past?”

“I... I never thought of it like that...” Midoriya says, looking around him.

“I’ll make a deal with you,” Hawks grins. “Make a piece with Endeavour. Make it a piece that makes people think he’s the new number 1, the new hope for the future. Do it legally as well. If it’s good enough, I’ll cover for you.”

“Wait... you’re giving me permission to spray paint?” Midoriya asks.

“You have talent,” Hawks says. “It’ll be a shame to see that go down the drain, so sure, anyone asks when you make the Endeavour piece, say you have my permission. Say I’m your benefactor if you need to, but only for the Endeavour piece. We’ll see after that. Now, help me get a picture with these.”

Hawks holds his phone out to Midoriya, who fumbles when grabbing hold of it.

“Huh?”

“What? I want to be the first to take a picture with your work again...” Hawks gives their surroundings one more glance. “Might have to upload multiple picture for this one though.”

Hawks is amused by the seemingly never ending look of awe on Midoriya’s face.

——

Izuku is stumped. A piece on Endeavour? Sure, Izuku knows plenty on the Hero. He’s a fan of all Heroes, even ones with a bad reputation like Endeavour. It’s just Heroes like Endeavour aren’t high on Izuku’s list.

He sighs as he jumps between tabs. Some are about Endeavour; his current reputation, past fights, anything that’ll help him get some inspiration. Hawks was right about Endeavour’s current reputation being... none too friendly. Even the Hero community is torn up over him being the new number 1. Then there’s the tabs on Hawks.

Izuku was sure Hawks was the type to stop a crime in a second and he was right. Izuku can’t find any mention of Hawks ever taking the time to stop and talk to the people committing crimes, so Izuku can’t understand why he’s not behind bars right now. Sure, Izuku’s on the younger side of the criminals Hawks usually deals with, but Izuku can’t imagine that being a deciding factor. Hawks may be chill and accommodating to his actual fans, but he’s known to be ferocious to villains, critical of society. Throwing an underage criminal in prison would be hardly a controversial thing for Hawks. Not even a controversial thing, it was his job to stop criminals. So, why...

‘You have talent’. That’s what Hawks had said, but... well what Izuku did wasn’t the greatest piece of art out there, he’s seen better pieces just walking around his local streets. He’s average at best. And... Well Hawks has never really been known to foster for the future generations. Hawks sidekicks are only relegated to cleaning up Hawks’ work, the Hero too fast for anyone to escape him- it just makes sense, but it’s not great for teaching future generations how to be a Hero. It’s really only making his job easier... Then again, there were articles online about Hawks taking on an intern from UA... maybe he was becoming interested in helping future generations…

It... It just didn’t make any sense!

Hawks is observant. His Quirk allows him to be- and he’s smart without the Quirk. Izuku can’t accept that Hawks would just ask him to continue spray painting without some alternative goal. Then again... the Hero has taken pictures with both his pieces now...

Izuku clicks onto the tab with Hawks social media presence. There, pinned to the top, is a series of four new photos.

They’re more dynamic than the photo Hawks took the other day. For one, Hawks had Izuku holding the camera to take the pictures. For another, when given the chance Hawks liked to take a lot of pictures.

Izuku had expected to be sent to the police where he’d have to awkwardly phone his mother, waking her up, and having to explain exactly what he had been up to. Then, when Hawks had decided on a deal between the two of them, Izuku thought he’d be able to go home and get some much needed rest; maybe even wake up a little earlier. But, no. He had spent half an hour to an hour trying to get the right shots for Hawks.

One photo had Hawks wings spread out behind. Giving the impression Hawks was flying beside the jumping All Might. Izuku, both being present and being a fan, knew that Hawks was stationary and just posing for the shot. In another he was looking down as All Might was, grinning where All Might was smiling. Another shot over the shoulder, capturing Hawks blonde hair and red wings, but mostly catching his foot extended forward in the footprint spray painted All Might left behind. The last photo Hawks was crouching low on the ground, wings and arms extended wide, All Might’s face and punch floating above him on the wall. The set of photos were getting more likes and comments than the previous one and Izuku didn’t know how Hawks could keep up with it.

Izuku couldn’t and he was only dealing with them second-hand.

‘Did you catch the graffiti artist O:’

‘That looks so much better than the last one! Same artist or are you just interested in street art now?’

‘They’re done in the same place, right?’

‘Looking so cool!’

And on and on and on. Izuku could scroll through the page for an entire day and not get to the end. Somehow through the madness Hawks actually managed to reply to people. Not everyone got a reply, but a lot did. Izuku didn’t understand who Hawks responded to or why, but it seemed endless. Did Hawks ever stop working?

Izuku sighed. Looking through the photos, the comments; that wasn’t being productive. That wasn’t helping him come up with some new idea or helping him understand Hawks’ motivations. All it was doing was wasting time. Valuable, valuable time. But, where was he meant to start? A design? A place? He hadn’t done this legally before, hardly done it illegally, and... and what would Hawks do if he couldn’t come up with anything and just did nothing? Let him go as a one-time offender? Send him to the police? Drag him into the spray painting community against his will?

Izuku just didn’t know! What could he possibly do?

Izuku spent all day, all night, frantically clicking through tabs, getting distracted and scolding himself. Somewhere between all the movement and thinking, the seed of an idea appeared. It grew, nagged and eventually settled itself as the only viable option. Izuku had an idea, a plan and nothing would stop its momentum.

——

“Kacchan!” Izuku shouted, surprised to see his childhood friend opening the door to his building, but happy- this made it easier.

“Deku?” Kacchan asks, the words holding little bite. “What are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to-” and that’s when he notices the two figures behind Kacchan. Eraser Head and All Might. “Uh... I’m... not interrupting?”

“There’s no need to worry, my boy,” All Might reassures him, Izuku’s not sure if All Might remembers him, but Izuku freezes. Panicked. “We were just on our way out.”

Eraser Head nods towards Kacchan and the two take their leave, a black car parked nearby.

“Wha... Kacchan-?”

“Before you ask,” Kacchan’s eyes narrow at him, “because I’m sure you will. Yes, that was All Might. He was here as a teacher to talk about school stuff.”

“School stuff?” Izuku asks, eagerly. Kacchan sighs and kicks the door open wider. As much of an invitation as Kacchan will make.

Izuku enters, gently closing the door behind him. He greets Kacchan’s parents when he sees them, even if Kacchan is grumbling and sulking at them, and heads to Kacchan’s room.

“They’re opening dorms at UA,” Kacchan flops down on his bed. “They’re just getting parent’s permission, personally.”

“And-”

“Of course I’m going!” Kacchan snaps. “Nothing’s going to stop me from being a hero! It’ll be great getting away from this shit hole. Bet you’ll miss me though.”

“I will,” Izuku admits, because unlike Kacchan he’s not worried about admitting the truth as bluntly as possible.

Kacchan sneers, because he’s not good at emotions. “What’re you doing here anyway, Deku?!”

“Ah, right! Do you know how to scale a building?” Izuku asks.

“Of course I do- Wait, why do you need to know that?” Kacchan gives him a suspicious glare.

“It’s important for an art project,” Izuku explains. Kacchan makes a completely unattractive noise.

“Yeah, right. If this was an art project your school would have actually taught you something about it, try again-”

“Kacchan!” Izuku interrupts, it’s rare that he does and it’s rare that Kacchan listens, but something makes the hot tempered teen stop and stare at Izuku. “It’s completely legal and I have permission, but I need to know so I can spray paint Hawks’ Hero office.”

Kacchan stares. Kacchan blinks. He tries pinching himself, but everything stays the same. “What?”

Chapter Text

It had been a few days, just under a week, since Hawks had met Izuku and he hadn’t heard a peep from the kid. He guesses it would be a little too much to expect a miracle from the kid, Hawks had thrown him into the deep end without any guidance. He’d just leave it for a bit, he’s sure the kid will come up with something, and focus on his actual job.

Dabi.

He finally got a meeting arranged and it was going painfully. And Hawks doesn’t mean like a consistent ache, he’s talking like getting a plier and pulling his teeth out one at a time and when he runs out of teeth moving to the nails (and maybe he should have started there, because they grow back?). The man was being obtuse on purpose.

Hawks knew it wasn’t going to be easy, half of the reason he was fine with him being the one subjected to this. If someone was going to get hurt for a blunder with the League he’d rather it was him, but really... this was hard.

He gets it, he’s a Hero. A well-known and respected Hero, why would the League of Villains trust him? But, if there was something he could do that didn’t put his fellow Heroes at risk... that would be great. Of course, he couldn’t say that to Dabi, that would be awfully suspicious of a Hero turning to the League to say, so all Hawks could do was plan and find... some solution!

He wasn’t getting anywhere! There wasn’t a solution! Or at least a simple solution... none of these problems seemed to have a simple solution...

His phone rang.

“Hello?” He greeted, not bothering to look at the caller ID as he answers.

“Hawks, you might want to get to the Hero agency,” the voice of one of his sidekicks says through the speaker. Hawks can hear a commotion on the other side and it makes him raise a brow at no one.

“Why? What’s going on?” Hawks gets up, his feathers flying across his apartment to get him his gear. He would’ve headed off soon anyway.

“You... you probably need to see it to believe it.” Translation: I don’t want to be the bearer of bad news. Cowardly, but Hawks can respect that.

“I’ll be by soon,” he assures and ends the call. What could have happened at his agency?

He shrugs, none the wiser, gears up and heads out. Flying means it only takes him a few minutes to get to his agency and he’s glad he takes the fast route. This... this is amazing.

The agency is being boarded off by the police. There’s a commotion of citizens congregating, which must have been the noise on the phone line, because he can see his sidekicks lurking around; staring up at the building. And... Wow what a sight that is. Twenty floors of Endeavour spray painted into the building.

Endeavour’s image is splashed across Hawks’ office building, loud and proud. Deep blues, fiery reds, bright yellows; they all accumulate in an image no one can take their eyes off of. Endeavour stands there, looking out at the masses and where most would portray Endeavour with a scowl or glare, his face is just determined. Looking forward at the crowd with a look daring them to challenge him. Then there’s his pose. Compared to Izuku’s usual art it’s rather static, at least at first glance, but that’s not what the stationary pose really connotes. It’s a sturdy, wide stance that appears immovable. Endeavour’s spray painted pose dares others to try and overthrow his position.

Hawks flies down to his sidekicks and the police.

“Hawks,” one of the officers greet. “We’ll be launching an investigation into-”

“No need,” Hawks disagrees. “I know who did it, and won’t be pressing charges.”

“Are... are you sure?” The officer says. “This is-”

“Absolutely fine,” he turns to his sidekicks. “Head on up, I’ll debrief you on our cases today in a bit.”

Before anyone can answer, Hawks shoots back in the air. The crowd is only growing, the spectacle that is Hawks’ building is great. It’s a shame that Hawks won’t get the first photo online this time, but whatever.

He looks over the building again. It’s so artistically done. Hawks has no idea how Izuku got up high enough to spray paint the entire building, what with his struggling to reach a ceiling less than a metre above him, but... Hawks is impressed. Somehow Izuku’s planned it so the lights from the windows expands Endeavour’s flames, making them appear ever growing, ever moving and ever flickering. It’s... it’s amazing.

Hawks takes his phone out, flips the camera on and take a picture. His grin is bright in the corner of the photo and Hawks finds it hard to get rid of it the rest of the day.

——

“You said you have permission,” Kacchan growls in his ear. They’re sat together in a corner of the train, both of their phones out.

“I do,” Izuku insists, because... well Hawks had said he could- should- paint Endeavour.

“This,” Kacchan shoves his phone in Izuku’s face, a video of people and police gathering outside Hawks’ hero agency fills Kacchan’s phone. “Doesn’t look like permission.”

“Kacchan, I promise I have permission,” Izuku promises, trying to move Kacchan’s phone out of his face.

“You better,” and it’s clearly taking all Kacchan has to keep his voice down and not alert the rest of the carriage what they’re arguing about. “I’m not ruining my Hero career for your stupid hobby!”

“I wouldn’t put your Hero career at risk, Kacchan,” Izuku says sincerely. “You’re going to be an amazing hero, I wouldn’t want to have destroyed that.”

“Then what’s this?” Kacchan growls.

“Hawks probably didn’t tell anyone,” Izuku reasons, hopes that’s what this is. “He’s known for doing controversial things.”

Kacchan snorts, going back to his phone. “I still can’t believe you met him, by doing that ridiculous spray painting stunt. You trying to get thrown in jail? What happened to your Hero costume designer dreams?”

“I’m still working on that, we have an entire course on Hero costumes and merchandise, I... I just felt like I had to do something loud and public after All Might’s retirement, you know?” Izuku explains.

“No, I don’t know!” Kacchan’s voice is definitely raising above inside voice levels. “You’re a nerd with shitty ideas!”

“Yeah... I guess it was a pretty bad idea,” Izuku looks down at his own phone, scrolling through the news about it. He refreshes the page. “But, look! I told you it was fine.”

On the screen is a photo from Hawks’ own profile. He’s grinning at the camera with the Endeavour piece Izuku had struggled to paint with Kacchan all night.

“Whatever,” Kacchan tsks, ignoring him for his phone. It’s a typical Kacchan move, so Izuku doesn’t pay it any mind, staring down at his phone.

The photo is similar to the first one Hawks posted, where he’s in the corner of the frame. The overwhelming image of Endeavour below him, almost beside him in this image, but there’s more of Hawks’ face this time. Whereas with the first image he just had half of his face peering in, now his whole face is present. His eyes are still covered with his goggles, his hair is still a purposeful mess, but now his mouth is seen and he smiles.

Izuku’s always believed you can tell a lot about a person depending on their smile. It’s why All Might’s such an inspiration. He can smile in the face of adversity, he can smile in a truly helpless situation and have it mean something. Have it be believable. Hawks’ smile had always come across as cocky, or tired or plastered on to Izuku. They were perfect in a way that they had been sculpted to perfection. But, this? This smile has a childlike glee that Izuku can’t help but recognise as sincere in a way he hadn’t expected.

Hawks liked the spray painting. He liked the spray painting!

Izuku feels tears building up in his eyes. He... he was requested to do this, right? And the requestor is actually... happy with what Izuku had provided? This... this feeling of euphoria bubbles up deep in Izuku’s stomach and flushed through the rest of him pleased. He made someone happy with his work. He made a Hero happy with his work! He made someone who believed in him happy!

He wants to yell it to the world. Freak out about this achievement to Kacchan. Phone his mother about what he’s accomplished. Tell someone! But, he won’t. That’s... that’s not what this is about and he should probably talk to Hawks first before letting anyone know he’s the street artist who’s been in the news recently. It was bad enough having Hawks know. It was devastating having Kacchan know...

Kacchan had connected the dots together pretty quickly when Izuku had explained why he needed to be able to scale buildings. A startled look had crossed his face over the fact that Izuku (Deku!) was planning to spray paint Hawks’ hero agency. The looks had morphed, quickly, into a look of anger and Kacchan had become a mess of yells (that had been offset by Aunty Mitsuki yelling back).

“What the hell are you playing at, Deku!” Kacchan had growled, his fists clenched deep in the front of Izuku’s shirt.

Izuku opened his mouth to respond. Kacchan had shook him.

“You’re the moron who spray painted all that All Might stuff; the police are looking for you. Heroes are investigating it,” another shake. “And you want to drag me into that?”

“I have Hawks permission,” Izuku had managed to get out through all the swaying.

“Huh?”

“Hawks kind of caught me with the last piece,” Izuku admitted. “He told me to do this next piece. I wouldn’t have asked you if it would have implicated you in anyway.”

“You. Are. So. Frustrating,” each word is punctuated with a fresh wave of shaking, before Kacchan lets him go. “What is it you exactly need to do?”

Izuku had explained and had unwittingly gained a helper. Kacchan had given him a basic overview of how free running worked and then stopped him from actually practicing any of it.

“You won’t have time to learn that stuff in time, if you want my help. You’ll have to practice and learn that stuff in your own time! For now we should get the spray paints we need, leave getting us up the building to me,” Kacchan had punctuated the sentence with a glare. “But, don’t expect my help again! I’ll be in the dorms, like I’d have time to visit you!”

“Thank you Kacchan!” Izuku had cried, and got hit for his troubles. (The hit had no power behind it, so Izuku took it as the clear sign of their repairing relationship).

They had a week until Kacchan would be leaving for the dorms, so they spread out to get their paints. Izuku worked on more details of the piece and Kacchan scrutinised how they’d get it done. Not without a fair share of complaints.

“Why can’t we just do it in daylight if you have permission?”

“You better reimburse the train fare, Deku!”

“Why do we have to spray paint Endeavour? He’s a shitty Hero, just do All Might again!”

But they managed it. They planned it. They took the train over, both maybe fibbing a little bit to their parents (and having to dodge the police a little, seeing as Kacchan was still under watch), but they got over there. Right before Hawks’ Hero agency, where Kacchan proceeded to propel the two of them through the air with a mixture of his strength and Quirk. It was terrifying work, being so close to the explosions that used to bully and torment him, but more than that it. Was. So. Cool!

Kacchan had such control of his Quirk! Able to change their trajectory in a millisecond, without causing themselves or the building any damage. And! You’d think someone with Kacchan’s Quirk and infamy that they’d get spotted in a second, but no! Somehow Kacchan was able to time the loud cackles his explosion caused with traffic, both distant and near; was able to cover each flash with a passing car. They were, somehow, a normal part of the nightlife around them.

And Kacchan’s strength! Izuku had always known a Quirk wasn’t the only thing that made a Hero (though it definitely helped). There was the Hero’s intelligence and strategy to take into account- and strength. Kacchan had propelled them high up and then clung one handed to the building, his other hand holding tight to Izuku’s back. Kacchan spent an entire night keeping them attached to the building. Spent an entire night with his muscles straining with both his own and Izuku’s weight.

Kacchan was going to be a great Hero.

He already was a great Hero.

“Kacchan,” Izuku says, turning to Kacchan on the train. The other is still glaring at his phone.

“What, Deku?” He growls, not looking up.

“Thanks for helping me,” Izuku says, completely sincerely. Izuku notices, Kacchan’s hand freeze over his phone for a second, but doesn’t comment on it.

“Whatever,” Kacchan shoves his phone back in Izuku’s face. “But, you better not do this stuff alone. You’d get caught before you even left your house if you try a stunt like this again!”

On Kacchan’s phone there’s a comment thread about trying to find the anonymous person behind the street art. A witch hunt of sorts.

This is as close to caring as Kacchan gets and it makes Izuku want to tear up all over again. He doesn’t (barely).

“I’ll be careful, Kacchan,” Izuku reassures.

“Idiot!” Kacchan yells. “I didn’t say be careful! I said don’t do it!”

It’s great to have their friendship back.

——

Izuku returns home about noon. Kacchan leaves him around the corner with one more comment about being careful and then he’s home.

“I’m home!” He calls into the house.

“Welcome back!” His mother answers. “Did you and Katsuki have fun?”

“Yeah! I’ll talk about it later, I just want to crash right now,” Izuku says, taking his shoes off and heading to his room.

“Alright sweetie.”

His room is as he left it and... He really needs to sort out the empty black spray painting cans. He’d been worried about them, because they were clear evidence of his crime, though he had worn gloves. There shouldn’t be any evidence on them... but he’ll sort that out later. For now, he crashes on his bed.

He’s tired. Exhausted really. That’s the third night in just over a week he’s spent all night working on his art. He’s not used to the change of sleeping patterns, and he’s definitely not used to traveling while sleep deprived. He felt like he could’ve fallen asleep on the train back, if he wasn’t so hyped from successfully spray painting Hawks’ Hero agency. But, now... now that he’s safely home, in bed- he can’t sleep.

His eyes have been fighting against him the entire trip home. The words from his screen blurring as he stared at them, but now that he can actually shut them and sleep he... he can’t. He’s filled with so much energy. So much positive energy. He had tried so hard to be good at something and. Now. He. Is. It’s... it’s surreal.

He reaches over to his bag, thrown on the ground right beside him, and takes his phone out. He searches for all kinds of conversations about what he’s done.

There’s news coverage, and each one reports on it ever so slightly differently. One mentioning how Hawks had said that the spray painting was requested, and what it could mean that the number 3 Hero requested a spray painting of the number 2 on his Hero agency. Another claims this is clearly Hawks showing support for the soon to be number 1 Hero. One focuses on the sudden large scale graffiti that had been seen (now) across the country, and questioning Hawks’ involvement on the graffiti. There’s so many articles to click between, and so many different perspectives.

Izuku’s eyes burn by the time he’s finished reading through them all and his throat feels clogged up. He had made three pieces now. Three pieces that had all be regarded drastically differently.

The first piece had been outrage over the positioning, but the meaning and feeling had come across. The second piece had been seen as impressive art, people were still visiting down there, and no one had bothered trying to clean that up. And now this piece... people thought it was well spray painted, but the subject matter was... controversial, to say the least. Izuku had expected it, Hawks had openly said Endeavour was currently badly received; the news openly let their distaste over Endeavour out. And positioning... well that was where a lot of the conversation was focused.

Hawks had wanted the piece done, but... maybe he didn’t want the piece so publicly acknowledged as his idea? Heroes had their own brands and having them messed up by a fan... Oh God, maybe Izuku should have thought this through a little more. Yes, Hawks had looked pleased, yes technically Hawks had given his permission (technically), but Hawks hadn’t agreed to what Izuku had decided on. He hadn’t finalised the idea and given Izuku the go ahead. Would Hawks be unhappy by Izuku’s assumptions that this was ok? Should Izuku have thought this through a little more?

There was so much conjecture and assumptions and- where did these new sources even get their information from? It was beyond confusing... would they find out who Izuku is? Where he lives?

Izuku likes bringing his artwork and ideas to life, but he’s not sure he likes the idea of being hounded by the media. Having these assumptions put on what he’s doing... he wonders how Hawks is dealing with it. Deals with it, because this isn’t new. It’s a new day, a new situation, but the same experience. The news is always talking about Heroes and their choices and of course Hawks is no different. Hawks actually gets some of the worst of it. The youngest Hero to be in the top ten, someone who says and does controversial things, while being good to his fans and good at his job... he’s always going through this with the media.

Not to mention the fans. As a fan himself Izuku knows, he knows, just how a strong appreciation and love for a Hero can be counterproductive. There’s too many expectations, too much respect. They’re Hero worshiping people, but they forget the human aspect. Forget so badly that even a small mistake can destroy a person’s perspective of the person. This is the life Hawks lives and it’s a life Izuku has unexpectedly gotten tangled up in.

Already people are talking about his work, giving him respect. It might be a momentary celebrity-hood, and it’s definitely thanks to Hawks’ popularity, but his work is viral. His work is being talked about. There are expectations on him, expectations he wasn’t expecting. And he can’t let them down... but he has so much to learn before then. He’s immature and doesn’t know how to not hurt someone’s reputation. Doesn’t even know how to get permission to legally spray paint somewhere. Sure, he looked it up, but... it seemed so situational and at Izuku’s level he’d probably need to sit down with a large portfolio of work.

Izuku has a lot to learn... and he doesn’t know where to start. How to start. He only did this in a moment of spontaneous... need? He can’t even capture the initial feeling anymore.

Through the evening of panic and obsessive scrolling, Izuku manages to doze off. It’s fitful at best, an unconscious head nodding that has Izuku dazed and unaware if he’s actually awake or asleep. It feels like he brings his worries to his sleep and his dreams to his reality. Then there’s a knock on the door.

Somewhere through the haze Izuku feels like he should get out of bed, answer the door (maybe Kacchan left something with him? Or a neighbour wanted to borrow something?). He is currently the closest to the door, but... his body doesn’t listen, wanting to remain pressed deep in the comfort of the cushion at his head and bed beneath him. He hears his mother moving.

“I’ll be just there!” She calls and Izuku takes this as his cue to stay lying half on, half under his covers.

His mother’s slippered feet shuffle down the hallway. Izuku listens as the front door creaks open, completely aware that the voices would be muffled, but still straining to hear.

There’s a little bit of muffled back and forth. The other voice sounding vaguely male and familiar (a neighbour?). Though... his mother’s voice is sounding more panicked. That’s not necessarily something to stress over. He and his mother both react to positive things in a stressed manner. It’s just an inherited family quirk (or learned quirk). Still, Izuku pulls himself from his bed to get closer to the door- just in case.

Just as he’s getting closer to the door, there’s footsteps walking down the hallway. He freezes, tries to keep his breathing even as he listens. If they’re being welcomed into the house it’s probably nothing, right?

“I hope it won’t be an inconvenience to ask you to sit in the living room for a moment,” he hears his mother’s voice.

“Of course not,” Izuku feels a sense of dread overcome him at the voice, “you have a lot to discuss with your son I’m sure.”

The voices pass down the hallway and Izuku’s frozen halfway from his bed and the door.

Hawks? What is Hawks doing here? Sure, Izuku was expecting Hawks to contact him over the whole spray painting thing, but this is... this is too soon. He’s only gotten back a few hours and- and- it’s too sudden! His mother doesn’t know what he’s been up to. He wasn’t even planning to tell her and now-

There’s a knock on his door.

“Izuku?” His mother’s voice comes through his bedroom door. “May I come in?”

“Yeah,” Izuku squeaks, the word somehow getting past his numb tongue.

The door opens softly, his mother enters and closes the door quietly behind her. Izuku can’t quite read her expression. There’s the family inherited tears building in her eyes, and her hands are balled into fists as though to give her courage, but her shoulders are bunched up around her ears as though she was preparing for an attack.

“Mum?” Izuku asks unsure, his arms half coming up as though to comfort.

“The... the Pro Hero Hawks is here,” and if the situation was any different, Izuku is sure he’d be ecstatic by the news, but his mind is just a jumbled mess of could-be-s. “He... he says you’ve been illegally spray painting?”

His mother asks it as a question, because of course she wouldn’t believe her son could do something so rotten even with a reputable Pro Hero telling her so. Izuku’s fists ball up and he looks away. He’s let his mother down.

“Oh, Izuku,” and Izuku finds himself gathered in the arms of his distraught mother. “Why did you do it baby?”

“I just... thought it’d help...” Izuku explains. “People aren’t believing in heroes as much as before.”

“Baby...” his mother sighs and she clings tightly to him. “It’s alright we’ll figure this out. I’ll be here to help you out.”

The way she says it makes Izuku feel like he’s truly messed up here. That he’s a misguided child and... and maybe he is. He’s only 15, hasn’t had a dream in the arts for long, maybe... maybe he needs to rethink how he’s going about this... At least, he won’t be doing this alone.

He has his mother and he should have Hawks- unless he was angry? Oh, God what if he has angered the Hero?

“Right,” his mother says firmly. “Let’s go out and discuss this with Hawks. It’ll be fine, baby.”

“Right.”

——

The Midoriya’s household is fairly simple in design, but it’s homely in a way Hawks doesn’t ever recall knowing. He kind of likes it, even if he has to squeeze his wings tightly together to get around.

He had been led to a couch while Inko Midoriya, a woman who Hawks can already tell defines her life through her son’s existence, went to confront Izuku about the spray painting. Hawks isn’t surprised the younger Midoriya hadn’t told his mother, but he was surprised by the older Midoriya’s initial refusal to believe her son had done anything wrong. Truthfully a woman who places her son above everything, even Heroes; society’s biggest upholders of the law.

It’s with this in mind, maybe, that Hawks let’s his senses spread out. Let’s his wings pick up every subtle move within the house. He feels the Midoriyas speak, hug and comfort. It’s endearing, even if it wrongly places Hawks as the villain of the situation.

(Isn’t he the villain? At least for a short term for while the Government demand it).

He keeps a part of his mind focused on the movements through the house as he looks around. There’s posters everywhere of All Might and it makes Hawks snort. The kid truly was a massive fanboy. He wonders what the kid’s room looks like. He bets it’s filled with figures, posters and- oh best of all- an All Might bed sheet.

He wonders where the spray painting comes into play? Someone that devoted to All Might usually aims to be a Hero, right?

A sneaky suspicion he’s had for a while now comes to mind. Quirkless? It wouldn’t be out of the realms of possibility. The kid had been cagey when asked previously that Hawks let it go, if he wasn’t using a Quirk publicly then there was no problem (and the kid swore he wasn’t). Hawks truly should have looked it up when he was looking up the kid’s address, but he had been busy dealing with the League recently. It would probably be better to let the kid tell him himself anyways.

With a shrug Hawks continued to observe his surroundings, trying not appear too knowing when he sensed both Midoriyas approaching.

“Mr. Hawks,” Ms. Midoriya says politely. “Can I make you some tea?”

“Just Hawks will do,” Hawks says, trying his best to be polite (it’s not really his forte). “And no thank you, I won’t be here too long.”

He grins at the younger Midoriya, who manages a smile back. It’s... really amusing. Watching the kid work, you’d expect him to be confident and cocky. Look at the pieces he’s done! That requires guts of steel! But, approach him anywhere else (probably approach him through spray painting as well) and he becomes a nervous wreck. Amusing. Relatable though.

“So, first,” Hawks says, directing his attention directly at the younger Midoriya. “I want to ask you a question. Do you know how much money the country spends on cleaning graffiti?”

“I... I didn’t think about it,” he admits, which Hawks had expected.

“Costs millions, sometimes billions, every year,” Midoriya, both of them for that matter, look a little pale at that revelation. “Those caught are usually given a fine, but it’s still noted down as a criminal offence, which would not look good for your school and future career.”

The younger Midoriya seems pale, but not completely put out. He’s keeping his eyes level with Hawks.

“Usually?” He asks, carefully, and Hawks knew there was something to this kid. Observant.

“Yup, usually,” Hawks grins, and he’d flop back on the couch if his wings weren’t in the way. “I told you to do that Endeavour piece- good work by the way- for a reason. If I thought you were up to the task I decided I’d be your benefactor.”

“Benefactor?” Mum Midoriya asks, a second before Izuku does.

“Yup,” Hawks shrugs. “It’ll all be legally handled. Currently, the only one aware of what you’ve done is me and it can remain that way, if you don’t go off spray painting on your own again I can be your benefactor. I’ll pull some strings, send some money too for better press. All you have to do is, if you have an idea you want to spray paint, take it to me and I’ll get you a place to spray paint it legally.”

“What would you get from this?” The older Midoriya asks, and Hawks is glad, because their little spray painter here looks ready to agree without a thought.

“Nothing really,” Hawks admits. “It gives me and the other Heroes less crime to deal with while things are currently hectic and I can make sure no unsavoury message gets sent out there- I think we’ve all had enough of that after Stain. Not that I think you’d spray paint something like that Midoriya, it’s just a pre-precaution. Also, I like the work.”

“Wouldn’t... this be best discussed with lawyers?” Older Midoriya asks and once more Hawks is finding himself thankful for her. A sensible lady!

“Of course,” Hawks clicks his fingers. “We don’t have to decide this here and now. I just thought I’d give you the forewarning for it. What do you both think of the deal?”

“I... It depends on what Izuku wants,” both adults turn to the younger Midoriya.

Without a trace of uncertainty he looks them both in the eye. “I want to do it.”

Chapter Text

It had taken a while, long enough for the splintering heat of summer to fade to a modest warmth as the long sunny nights stopped their eternal lingering, for Midoriya to come to an agreement with Hawks. He honestly hadn’t been expecting it, but when it came to her son’s future the older Midoriya didn’t care about expense or time. A good lawyer was hired (on both sides) and every sentence of the contract was scrutinised and debated. Hawks prefers it this way honestly, he’d prefer to know Midoriya wasn’t going to get taken advantage of, but Hawks has also missed the giant spray painted pieces.

The pieces weren’t as hot gossip as they had been. The hype dying down, but not completely gone, when they stopped appearing. Rumour had it Hawks was at fault for the stop in large graffiti; if only they knew.

“You got everything?” Hawks inquiries, looking over at his companion. Midoriya had bags strapped to every part of his body. All of them filled with spray paint cans.

“Yeah,” his eyes stare in wonder at Hawks not even keeping his attention on the path before him, and that was amusing.

As they walked down the street Hawks could sense any crime that was about to happen without looking, so he’d just stop it without a second thought. He should probably leave it to the local heroes, he doesn’t have any sidekicks with him today, but like he was going to let a criminal run off near him. So, as they walked down the streets of Hosu red feathers filled the air around them and Midoriya would gasp and babble on about the moves Hawks was doing.

Truly the epitome of fanism, adorable and familiar to Hawks. Hawks just grinned, kept up the conversation and heroism.

“Is this what an average day of Hero work is like for you?” Midoriya asks, all wide eyed.

“This is more off duty work,” Hawks explains, more than willing. “On duty work is faster and more forceful, because the sidekicks are around to cover the paperwork and assist the police with detainment.”

“How many cases have you solved in a day?” Midoriya asks eagerly.

“Ah, cases are a little different, petty crime like this,” Hawks gestures to where he just stopped a purse snatcher and returned the purse to its rightful owner. “I probably usually stop over a hundred a day, but cases involve a little more investigation and government intervention, they take too long, thanks to all the paperwork and legislation.”

“That’s so cool!” Midoriya mutters, before asking another question. And that’s how their travels continue for another twenty minutes, Midoriya eagerly noting something or asking another question and Hawks replying in kind, while stopping crime they pass by. Hosu has no idea what awaits them.

Well, a small group of people do. Once all the legalities were done with over Midoriya’s contract, Hawks and Midoriya had been quick to discuss potential art and well Hawks had gone ahead and got the ok from the buildings to spray paint it and here they are. Heading straight for the buildings.

Before the summer had hit them with its blistering heat there had been an... interesting case down these streets. The whole world knows of it, no matter how much the government and Hero community tried to keep the details under wrap, the news and most of the particulars had been released. And they were heading towards the alleyway which would mark the end of one thing, but the start of another.

They headed towards the alley where Pro Hero Ingenium had been stabbed and paralysed. Hawks didn’t personally know the Hero, but it was always a shame when a Hero got knocked out like that, but it was the villain who had harmed him that had messed with the Hero community. Stain.

Stain was... a villain with strong convictions. He had escaped the law for years as he killed and butchered the Hero community for his own sense of justice. He truly believed that most Heroes deserved death for not being heroic enough. He believed the entire Hero populace needed to uphold the ideals he had set for them. A wholesomeness that the technicalities behind being a Hero couldn’t allow for.

It was kind of sad to see someone throw their life away for a hopeless cause, but that wasn’t Hawks problem. His problem came afterwards. After Stain’s messy capture (and it was messy, Pro Heroes, UA students and a few civilians getting incredibly injured) his ideals were revealed to the world. Someone had leaked it, though that investigation hadn’t proven fruitful yet, and villains has clung to his ideals. Been inspired by his ideals. Now, now these villain use that sense of justice to infect the world and cause nothing but pain for everyone else. That- that is what Hawks’ problem is. If Stain hadn’t had influenced so many people Hawks wouldn’t need to infiltrate the League of Villains. (Ok, so he probably still would need to, but it wouldn’t have been nearly as large of a problem as it currently is).

That’s not why they’re walking the streets of Hosu though. At least not entirely.

Midoriya had listened to his idea of having more varied Heroes, just... not in the way Hawks had expected. Hawks wasn’t sure if this in the direction he had wanted Midoriya to go in, but he was definitely willing to see it through. It still proved interesting and the planned piece was stunning.

“I want to make a piece for Ingenium,” Midoriya had told him.

“The Hero that Stain paralysed?” Hawks had checked, mostly because his family of Heroes all shared similar names.

“Yeah,” Midoriya had nodded. “Everyone keeps going on about Stain and his ideals, while ignoring the people he’s hurt. I thought maybe it would freshen up the perspective?”

And Hawks couldn’t say no to that. Solid reasoning, hopeful cause; what more could the world ask for? So, Hawks had found the spot, for permission and Midoriya had got to planning.

The alley in question wasn’t anything special, wide enough that Hawks could unfurl his wings and take off, but not wide enough for much more. There were two large bins on one side of a wall and a cat carefully trying to avoid detection as it tries to break into the bins. Everything is grey, or at least a shade of it. And at the end, a forklift like device with a platform that raises up, planned just for today.

“This really where you want to start?” Hawks asks, as Midoriya looks around the buildings. They’re all high, ridiculously high, with windows unevenly and sparsely spread across the surface.

“Yeah!” Midoriya grins, because he knew this when he was planning this piece. He knows exactly what he’s doing, so Hawks steps back and lets the master work, this after all isn’t his forte. He’s just here to enjoy the pieces come to life.

Oh, and Hawks definitely meant pieces. He’d seen the pre-planned sketch pieces. What Midoriya has planned will use both buildings.

Midoriya approaches the forklift looking device with trepidation, but sets half his bags on the thing, the other half against the wall. He steps on the thing, carefully, but his posture looks strong. Proud. Like he’s going to tackle this new piece head on and give it all the attention it deserves.

He touches the wall for a second getting an idea of the texture, little grooves run along the wall in a repeated pattern, Hawks would assume. And then he’s at it. A can of blue spray paint in hand.

The piece starts off, to the uninitiated, as random shapes of colour. Colour that spreads long across the wall of this building, Midoriya not leaving even a small bit of the wall uncovered. He’s up and down the wall using the device Hawks had procured for him, so his Quirklessness (and Hawks had been right about that he discovered through the entire legal process) wouldn’t affect his reach. The kid was determined to reach spots beyond his reach, but Hawks could appreciate that, having a bird’s eye view most of the time.

Up and down. Up and down. Midoriya went, adding more and more colour to the piece. By the time he was just over half way through this one wall, he had made an almost pastel rainbow across the wall with a half humanoid shape present in each colour. Then he takes out the white. It had been wonderful watching the kid working until this point, so many layers of the same colour set, but no detail. Now, now was where the fun began.

Hawks hopes there’s enough white spray paint to last him the entire picture, though if not Hawks would rush off and get more. It was a part of the deal they’d made after all.

There had been the odd person looking down the alleyway, though most paid attention to Hawks (which was a shame, because this piece Midoriya was making was breath-taking honestly, but Hawks wouldn’t deny his fans anything). But, now? Now people were stopping and staring, just how a piece like this deserved.

Izuku was a flurry of movements, not staying in one place for too long as he layered white on white. As he added little details in black. And soon, soon there was a large piece that could only belong to an armoured hero of great repute. The coloured shapes behind the hero suddenly made sense to those not in the know of the final piece; an after image of the fast hero running forward.

Some of the passing adoring public took pictures and Hawks could only imagine the rumours spreading online already. Hawks assisting graffiti artist? Well, the public would know at Hawks’ next interview, for now they’d have to speculate. Sometimes the speculation helped in the long run (sometimes).

Midoriya set the forklift to the ground and jumped down to look at his work from a distance. It was impressive. When Hawks had been told the original idea for the piece, he feared the walls would just blur a blinding white, but of course Midoriya had thought of that. The composition was great, with the street artist really using the scale of the building to enhance his work. Even the windows breaking up the picture looked natural (and thankfully untouched by the spray paint).

Ingenium’s white armour (with black accents) seemed to gleam off the wall. Large, bold and clean. It demanded everyone’s attention, especially in the area it was placed. This little grimy alleyway suddenly coming to life and appearing as well-lit as the busy streets nearby. But, of course Midoriya wasn’t done. He had the opposite alleyway wall to paint. It currently appeared bare and miserable compared to its brother.

“Can you move this?” Midoriya asks and Hawks looks at the kid’s weak little noodle arms before agreeing. It would probably be considered cruel to leave the kid to struggle on his own.

Hawks steps forward, red feathers diving throughout the alleyway and moving everything into position. To the a normal passer-by they probably can’t comprehend exactly how quickly everything’s moving, but by the time the flurry of red dissipates the bins have been shoved out of the way; Midoriya, his spray paint cans and the forklift have been settled at the other wall and Hawks looks a little smug as Midoriya appears dazed.

“That was cool,” he hears the kid mutter, just as Hawks had expected he would. Fanism, easy to predict.

“Your next piece?” Hawks says, with a little dramatic flourish. Midoriya jumps to attention.

“Of course!”

Jumping onto the forklift, making sure he’s got the right spray paint cans with him (the ones he hasn’t needed to touch yet), he continues the entire process a second time. Pastel colours, following the same pattern from the other side, but going in the opposite direction. Hawks had watched him work for a while now. Watched the up and down motion. The spray and the little ‘thssss’ sound each can makes. He notices there’s a rhythm to Midoriya’s movements and it becomes soothing in its repetitiveness.

Its rare Hawks is given a moment to relax. Even today, his day off, he’s in costume. Even today, when he has a day off to focus on a side passion project (does it count as a passion project when he’s helping someone else accomplish their passion project) he’s working. But, just watching the strips of paint gather across the wall. Come alive at an ensured pace. It’s calming in a way Hawks hadn’t expected.

So, he watches.

He was always planning on watching. One, for the art. Two, to keep the kid safe. But, he guesses he has another reason now. Relaxation.

That’s how the rest of the afternoon goes. Midoriya following the same rhythm he did before. Some rhythm only he seemed to understand. And Hawks watching. There was the odd break from that rhythm, where a fan would come up and ask something (add to the gossip) or want a photo he was always willing to have. And then, Midoriya was finished.

As Midoriya added the last spray of paint, came off the forklift and stood back to check his work, they were towered on both sides by the same image, just in reverse. Colour flew behind Ingenium’s image, while Ingenium ran forward, his face looking forward. Beyond the alleyway, as though this very alleyway wasn’t where his Hero career ended. It was hopeful, powerful and... probably a little controversial? Hawks always underestimated the internet’s power to be offended.

“To your liking?” Hawks asked, and realised he never really had a reason to ask that before. He definitely prefers Midoriya doing this legally.

“Yeah,” Midoriya says, giving his work a once over.

“Cool,” and then Hawks sets the alleyway back to normal with a swing of his wings. The bins back to their rightful position. The cans back in their bags and at Midoriya’s feet. Camera in hand. “How should I take this picture?”

They settle for a shot that has Hawks flying near the top of the buildings, Izuku at the mouth of alleyway. The photo is all angles and dynamic looking. Both walls are viewable. One Ingenium easier to see than the other. Hawks looks proud as he flies centre point in the photo.

There’s another photo added when Hawks uploads it. One of the art by itself, in all of its full glory. With a tag Hawks hopes Midoriya will appreciate.

——

Izuku is... he’s ecstatic! He’s done his first piece since he signed all the documents that had Hawks investing in his street art. He was initially confused on the whole investing part, but apparently some people are willing to pay for this kind of thing, so it’s considered an investment even if Izuku and Hawks are kind of doing it for their own reasons. It doesn’t really matter to Izuku; he’s doing what he loves and might get paid for it, but he’s more excited to see the reaction people have online.

Not that he’s going to look it up this very second! He’s still in Hosu with Hawks and it’ll probably be rude to just stare at his phone the entire time. So, he keeps his attention on Hawks (which isn’t hard, because he’s a HERO!). So, he’ll probably look at it later when he’s on the train home. (He’s assuming he’s taking the train, Hawks wouldn’t fly him that far, right? The little lift up Hawks had given him earlier was more than enough!).

“Hey, wanna get some food?” Hawks asks.

“I- uh, sure,” Izuku agrees, struggling to reach for his wallet. “I don’t think I have that much money on me though.”

“Ah, don’t worry,” Hawks dismisses with a wave of his hand. “My treat.”

“I couldn’t possibly ask you to do that!” Izuku insists. “Let me just-”

“Midoriya,” he looks over at Hawks. “It’s fine. Really.”

Izuku doesn’t really think it’s ok. He shouldn’t be taking money from Hawks like this, especially after everything the Hero had already done for him. All the money spent, just to help Izuku avoid a criminal charge that could have destroyed his life. He really hadn’t been thinking it through at that time.

“If- if you’re sure?” Izuku says, unsure if he should really fight it out. If this is what Hawks wants it’s probably the best solution.

Hawks leads him to a fancy looking Yakitori place that has separate rooms if patrons ask for them. Hawks asks for one. Izuku question’s just how much money this will cost Hawks (he doesn’t expect Hawks will let him know).

“Order whatever you want,” Hawks says, holding out a menu, as he settles down on the ground by the table. His wings spread out behind him and- well he guesses that’s probably a boon for getting a private room.

Izuku settles into his seat uneasily. He’s not a mess of colour like he was the first time he painted out in the public sphere, but there are still specks of colour. And probably dirt and grime, he was in an alleyway for some hours now. Hawks looks more than comfortable sat at the table though, so Izuku tries to gain some confidence from that (he doesn’t feel particularly confident though).

Orders are taken and they’re left to their own devices which is awkward- though it shouldn’t be. Izuku has had so many conversations with Hawks at this point that it should come naturally. Maybe it’s the setting? The expectation of conversation? Izuku just panics and feels less at ease.

“So the Ingenium piece? You did it because of Stain, right?” Hawks asks.

“Not- not just because of Stain,” Izuku denies, oh he hopes people don’t just think of Stain with his latest piece. “Ingenium was an amazing hero, who worked with so many sidekicks. As a collective his agency is phenomenal.”

“But, if Stain wasn’t a part of the equation, you wouldn’t have chosen that alleyway,” Hawks points out.

“I guess that’s true,” Izuku rubbed at the back of his neck. Uncertain.

“I never did ask, what did you think of Stain?” Hawks asks.

Izuku stares at him incredulously. Was a Pro Hero really asking what he thought of... a villain?

“What? It’s a popular topic. So, what’s your opinion on him?” Hawks raises a brow.

“I... I guess that’s true. I uh- never thought about it before, but I... I guess I understand his reasoning for doing what he was doing, but... I can’t agree with his methods,” Izuku looks at Hawks, eyes burning. “There has to be a better way for him to get his message across. Murdering a person is never the answer.”

“Like turning to street art?” Hawks asks, with a grin.

“I...” Izuku feels his face flush. “It’s better than murder.”

“Oh, definitely,” Hawks holds his hands up. “Not arguing that, only teasing. Personally, I don’t think Stain was thinking it through completely. Having a Hero on the scene, doing their job, is still ultimately going to be better than having a select few ‘perfect’ heroes. One Hero can’t be everywhere, numerous Heroes can try their best.”

“I- I hadn’t thought about that. Though, I guess I hadn’t really thought a person dedicating so much time to saving lives could be considered unheroic, even if they’re a Hero for alternative reasons,” Izuku muttered.

“You’d be surprised, there’s a hierarchy and a whole lot of squabbling behind the scenes,” the door to the room opens to allow their food in. Hawks thanks them (Izuku’s quick to follow his lead). “Of course most Heroes are great. But, they’re a diverse bunch.”

“Don’t you mean ‘we’re a diverse bunch’, you’re a Hero as well,” Izuku questions.

Hawks hums, hand hovering over the delicious looking array of meat before them.

“I’m probably the most diverse of them all,” he grins; selecting a chicken piece. “Tuck in Midoriya. You haven’t eaten since you started that spray painting.”

As if Izuku has just realised it had been a few hours since he had last seen food, his stomach rumbles. Blushing profoundly Izuku picks up his own piece of chicken and starts eating away. It’s good.

“So, what do you think of the villains following Stain’s ideals?” Hawks asks, somewhere in between the bites of their meal.

“I... I don’t know...” Izuku admits. “It’s probably different case by case, right?”

“That is true,” Hawks points his current stick of chicken around as though it’s a baton to conduct his words. “Well, what if I give you a scenario? What if someone believes so much in Stain’s beliefs that they infiltrate a school and harm its students?”

“You’re... talking about UA?” Izuku feels his heartbeat speed up. Was this about Kacchan or had something more happened? (Of course more hadn’t happened to Kacchan, Aunty Mitsuki would have told him).

“Not just UA anymore,” Hawks shrugs. “There’s been a few other schools that have reported unusual activity potentially relating to the League- maybe other villains. UA’s just the most well-known and documented.”

“I... why are you asking me?” Izuku asks, surely Hawks shouldn’t be announcing this information to just anyone?

“Ah, I was just curious about your stance on the issue, seeing as you spray painted against it,” Hawks says. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“No... I...”

He did have an intention for spray painting Ingenium where he fought against Stain. He did have an intention.

“I... Well, I wanted people to realise it wasn’t just Stain who had convictions and ideals in that fight; Ingenium did to. Ingenium might have lost his fight against Stain, but that doesn’t mean he was wrong,” Izuku tries to articulate. “I guess I wanted to immortalise those ideals? It’s also a place where he fought personally, so I thought it might have more impact?”

Hawks nods along. “What about the All Might pieces? There was no famous fights of his around there, why choose those places?”

“Ah, those were more personal,” Izuku explains. “All Might saved me from a villain in the under-path and I had a conversation with him in the area of the first piece.”

“Ah, so you’ve met you favourite Hero twice? Must have been a great experience,” Hawks hums, taking a bite of his meal.

“Ah, once actually,” Hawks leans forward in prompt. “I... kind of clung onto All Might when he was leaving to ask him a question.”

“I’d say it’s unbelievable, but... this is you we’re talking about,” Hawks says, lips twitching. “Bet, you were ecstatic.”

“Yeah...” it didn’t go how he wanted, but that didn’t make All Might any less better than he is. “Ah- so! What do you think about the whole Stain thing?”

“Honestly? I’m not a fan, it hasn’t decreased the crime rate for the country, and that’s what my goal is. I won’t forgive anything that gets in the way of that.”

——

“How was your day, Izuku?” Izuku’s mother calls as he enters his house.

“Great, tiring though,” the trains were really killing him, but they were fun in their own way. Travel was another thing he has to get used to for this hobby (job?).

“How was Hosu?” His mother asks, as he slips his shoes off and enters the kitchen his mother is pottering around in. Dinner almost prepared (and Izuku doesn’t have the heart to tell her he’s already eaten, so two meals it is- and hey! There was a whole bullet train ride between them, so it’s not like he’s stuffing himself).

“Yeah, it was nice. Did you see the piece I made?” Izuku asks, starting to set the table, before his mother asks.

His mother turns around and there are tears in her eyes. Before he can make sure everything’s ok, the dam bursts.

“Oh! Izuku! I’m so proud of you!” She cries. “You’ve worked so hard to improve your art this last year and you’re clearly showing that growth!”

“Ah, Mum,” Izuku blushes, feeling tears build up in his own eyes.

“You’re going to do such a wonderful job!” His mother announces. “I’m so proud of you!”

“Mum...” he trails off. The words are so overwhelming... these... these are the words he’s always wished were directed at him. This is it. “Thanks.”

“Of course, sweetie,” His mother assures him, gives him a hug and rushes back to finishing off dinner.

They work in companionable silence. Izuku pouring them drinks, the plates and chop sticks being placed at both of their seats and his mother dishing up the food.

His mother’s support means everything to him, Kacchan’s support means everything to him; Hawks’ support means everything to him. He has the support of Pro Heroes present and future and his Hero. It isn’t the tentative support Izuku had hoped for when aiming for being a Hero. It’s an all-consuming support that makes Izuku feel giddy.

He can barely keep the grin off his face as he eats dinner with his mother.

“Why do some people have to be so disrespectful over your new dream though?” His mother asks him some when through their conversation while eating.

“What do you mean?” Izuku tilts his head, rice poised before his face.

“Some people online are still complaining this is vandalism while you had Hawks there with you,” His mother fumes. “They’re gonna get you in trouble, when you’ve gone through due process of getting it legalised.”

“Ah... I don’t know,” Izuku shrugs, “everyone has different opinions I guess.”

But he’s intrigued; so after his meal, after cleaning up after his mother and himself he finds himself online. Not that he wasn’t going to go on there anyway.

There’s thousands of comments at this point, hours after the fact. Izuku had skimmed and scanned some of them while he was on the train back (it had been trending then), but he’d also been busy reading a surprise interview with All Might about his retirement that Izuku couldn’t ignore. But, the comments earlier had been heart-warming. As they are now.

There’s the odd comment Izuku can see about vandalism, but not enough to cause his mother distress... though knowing his mother even a minor complaint about Izuku would ruin her day. The odd comment about being disrespectful to Ingenium gets to Izuku though. That wasn’t what he was trying to do. He likes Ingenium.

The debate starts with one comment, one MadameD, who argues the sincerity of spray painting a fallen Hero where they fell. Surely a moment of great triumph would be better? Another commenter, one All-Might-Lover68, question’s whether it could be considered a mural. Another, Midnightdreams, argues that it’s really no different to leaving flowers in a place where someone died. Another, E0C-P145M, argues it was probably paid for in advance seeing as Hawks was around.

It’s an interesting debate, if Izuku’s honest. If Izuku hadn’t been present himself through the entire street art making process, he’d find each argument compelling, but... well this hadn’t been his intention at all... how to make his point clearer? Was it even possible?

Throughout his lessons at art school, there was a broad spectrum they had to cover. Sure, there was the normal classes like Japanese, English, Maths and Science, but on the art side there was life drawing, fine arts and art history. The subject of art was bound to become more focused as a student progressed through the school and finalised on one subject, but at first it starts with the basics and discussion. One discussion that had popped up already was Authorial intent.

It was a theory and term that applied to all creative mediums, because well... it was a highly debated term that was appropriate for all media forms. It was the argument that an Author’s authority over an art piece should be the say and do all of a subject, but to add in the ‘Author is Dead’ theory and the argument gets a little passionate. The ‘Author is Dead’ argues that once a piece of art is out there it’s up to the world how they interpret something.

In this case Izuku’s intent and the viewers observing his piece didn’t match up... how could he make sure his intent wouldn’t be misread? Or if misread, at least interpreted in a way that didn’t completely contradict what Izuku had been aiming for?

He didn’t know.

They hadn’t gone over that in is his classes’ discussions and this was the first time he was experiencing this kind of situation... He’d research. It was the only thing he could do.

So, he spent more hours than was probably wise looking into the theories and other people’s experiences; trying to find something that applied to him. In his eagerness to discover a truth (his truth) he didn’t view Hawks original post of his art.

Two pictures lined up next to each. Hundreds of thousands of likes. And a little hashtag accompanied with the piece.

#ImHisNo1Fan

Chapter Text

Balancing his life between spray painting and school life was... a little difficult, but mainly that was because Izuku was failing to prioritise. He wanted to make more spray paintings. He was having so much fun with them and it was great hanging out with a Hero (an actual to god Pro Hero), but well... he needed his education so he could go beyond the spray painting (not that he’s sure what’s beyond his current goals).

It’s not that he was handing in his school work late, or not working hard on it, it’s just... well take now for example! Izuku had come from school, sat down in front of the TV in the living room, taken out his sketchbook and started drawing. Before, he started spray painting that sketchbook would have been one for school, but now? Now he took out the sketchbook dedicated to his spray painting designs.

The book was filled with all different Pro Heroes and potential designs. Gang Orca with the silhouettes of his sidekicks behind him, though morphed to look like endless waves. A complicated design of Jeanist, where threads appear all over the image, but never obscured the proud long figure of the Pro Hero. A strong, dynamic image of Miruko leaping forward. Her legs strong and attacking, while she grinned and her bunny ears and long white hair flew behind her. Then there was his current piece.

He liked the other designs, but... well they hadn’t really spoken to him. Hadn’t made him go: Yes! This is it! So, he thought on a more personal approach, just like with All Might. Thought about Heroes he had actually seen in person and well... he was reminded of just over a year ago, when a certain Pro Hero had debuted.

Mount Lady.

He happened to see her debut. Was on his way to school when she came in, kicking, and stealing the praise and success from her fellow Pro Heroes. Izuku had been in awe, watching the event unfold. He had been observing and taking mental notes so he could add them to his future Hero career notebooks. He still had those books, each filled with hopes and dreams. It’s a little bittersweet thinking back on those days. The days when he thought he could be a Hero, but without those days... he wouldn’t have this!

If he didn’t have those notes and those dreams he wouldn’t know so much about Heroes to be able to spray paint them. Wouldn’t have met All Might to start him on the path of spray painting. Wouldn’t have met Hawks to have given him this opportunity. It’s bittersweet, but ultimately it was a stepping stone to take him to the right path. He’s happy now. He wasn’t in the past...

So, with a new vigour, he works on the sketch designs. For pages and pages.

The first set of pages is all general sketches. Just trying to get proportions right and figuring out how to draw Mount Lady in his own style. He’d learnt more and more about concept art at school, where the examiners demand it. It’s useful, even if Izuku’s still getting used to the idea of it.

You just sketch a couple of different ideas over a couple of pages (over a couple of books, if Izuku’s room was to be believed) and see what works best. For Mount Lady there’s an image of her standing at her full height over everything. An image of her charging in and kicking an unseen enemy. A whole lot of images of realistic drawings of Mount Lady from different angles. And then his favourite piece.

Two Mount Ladies sit in this picture. Both committing the same pose of her standing legs shoulder width apart and hands of her hips. A strong sturdy pose. But where one Mount Lady is small, the other stands miles above. The grin is present in both images. It’s Izuku favourite piece, but... he’s unsure how to go about it. Should he make it life size, where the smaller one is spray painted onto a building the average human size, whereas the taller one would sprawl off the building and leave only her feet in shot, or should he calculate the ratio and shrink them both down so they’d both fit on a building together? Both ideas were wonderful, but what should he do?

It was impossible to choose... so he should switch sketchbooks. Use the one for school, but... maybe if he kept working on it, he’d come up with a solid design that wouldn’t leave him wondering what to do the whole time he worked on his school assignments.

Just a few more minutes...

A few minutes was interrupted by the news. Urgent breaking news.

His eyes, that never completely left the screen, shot upwards to give it his full attention. The Hero news program was rarely interrupted, what with a crime being reported and solved by a Pro Hero every other minute. The last time such an incident happened was... All Might’s retirement and... His terrifying battle against All for One.

Izuku was at the edge of his seat. Eyes never wavering as they took in the news reporters serious looks. Something dreadful then?

“We’re sorry to interrupt the planned program, but some pressing news has just reached the studio,” the reporter says. “Sir Nighteye’s Agency has given an official statement five minutes ago announcing the Pro Hero’s untimely death.”

Sir Nighteye? Izuku’s eyes widen.

“The statement says medical staff did all they could, but unfortunately they could not save him. It is assumed he passed away due to complications from the injuries he received in the raid against a Yakuza group with connections to the League of Villains that happened two days ago,” there’s a solemnness that Izuku can just feel through the screen. “It is with a heavy heart that we see a strong Pro Hero leave us. You did us proud Sir Nighteye.”

You did us proud... those words echo around Izuku’s mind. You did us proud...

They’re not incorrect. Sir Nighteye was a highly respected Pro hero. A Pro hero that had been All Might’s sidekick before starting his own agency. He had been All Might’s only sidekick. No one else would ever being given such an honoured title. No one else would ever receive such a title; what with All Might retiring. He was All Might’s number one.

You did us proud.

He was considered the everyday Japanese man, especially when standing proudly beside All Might. All Might, a Hero bigger than life itself. He could stand beside All Might. He was able to keep up with All Might. Able to help All Might. They were a devastating duo that took down thousands of criminals. They were so impressive.

You did us proud.

But, he wasn’t just All Might’s sidekick; he was his own Hero. In interviews he always explained that All Might was why he wanted to save lives and he’d be thankful to be All Might’s sidekick for the rest of his life, but. But, it didn’t stop there. Maybe Sir Nighteye felt All Might really didn’t need a sidekick, maybe he felt he’d be more helpful to the world if he didn’t rely on All Might and started his own Hero agency. Whatever the case; he was a fantastic Hero.

You did us proud.

With a Quirk that allowed him to see the future he’d been able to discover villain’s hideouts and identities without even having to approach them directly. With a physical ability that had been trained to the utmost perfection he’d been able to take down all manner of villains without a Quirk. Sir Nighteye was amazing. Sir Nighteye was a Hero.

You did us proud.

But something about the past tense... it put Izuku at odds. Like now that Sir Nighteye’s untimely death has happened he would be forgotten. That his achievements could just be put off to the side without any consideration to the man behind the Hero agency. As though Heroes are windup dolls with only one turn of the key. As though Heroes weren’t alive with their own problems and faults. As though Heroes hadn’t influenced and reached the hearts of millions.

You did us proud.

Sir Nighteye did do them proud. Some people would feel it more personally than others; those he had known and saved in person. But, that didn’t mean he didn’t affect them all. That there wasn’t a ripple effect across the whole world for his existence, for his will; for his unfortunate death. Sir Nighteye was amazing.

Izuku had looked up to him in amazement, though that’s completely unsurprising considering his involvement with All Might and Izuku’s tendency to worship the very ground All Might walked on. One of Izuku’s earliest memories of All Might involved Sir Nighteye taking out an enemy that had evaded All Might. It was fantastic. Sir Nighteye was fantastic. Izuku doesn’t want him to just become someone spoken about in the past tense. He wants him to continue flourishing. To live on and inspire. To be remembered.

He wants Sir Nighteye to be remembered.

He turns the page of his sketchbook. Mount Lady’s sketches and school projections forgotten in the face of travesty. He puts pencil to page and the next few hours are a blur Izuku can’t quite remember.

——

His newest intern is filled with pent-up frustration. Hawks has been watching, amused, as Tokoyami pushes himself to keep up with Hawks during patrols. Watching, with a ridiculous smile twitching on his lips, as Tokoyami tries to remain calm in the face of Hawks ridiculing commentary. Not for the first time Hawks wonders if he really should have taken an intern under his wing. He doesn’t care about teaching the newest generation, openly mocks the idea, but he needed some access to class 1-A and this was the easiest way. An intern. He wonders if he’ll end up destroying a young hopeful Hero’s dream, but well when push comes to shove one person’s dreams isn’t as important as a whole nations. Not that he’s trying to ruin Tokoyami’s chances; he likes the kid. They’re both birds. And he did offer pointers to the kid. Maybe he’s not doing too badly.

He is still using the kid though. The not so nice side of the Pro Hero industry: politics. Espionage.

Hawks has been surrounded by the political side of Pro Heroes since he was a child. He had used his Quirk to save people without a licence, had been handpicked to become a Pro Hero; was given cases by the government that no Pro Hero should be given. It’s fine though; he’s willing to be the person that gets their hands dirty to protect others. He’s willing to do anything so others have an easier time. With that in mind he should probably start paying attention to Tokoyami.

The fledgling had taken his words of advice to heart and was trying to learn how he could fly. Hawks spared him half an hour every week to see how he’s progressing in his office’s gym. Tokoyami had decided to use his Quirk Dark Shadow to pull himself off the floor; creating the illusion of flight. It was particularly creative. Clever. But more importantly adorable.

The first time Hawks had bared witness to Tokoyami’s idea for flight he had to suppress laughter when he had caught onto one little detail. The way Dark Shadow wrapped around and held Tokoyami was mimicking the way Hawks himself carried Tokoyami in flight. Tokoyami promising to name this new technique after him was also adorable, even if the name was a tad gothic and dark (Tokoyami’s go to style). Well whatever suited Tokoyami; it was his Hero career.

Back to responsibly overseeing Tokoyami’s training. He was getting better at the whole stability thing. The first time he tried training at the agency he had careened off to the left and would have landed face first on the ground if Hawks hadn’t been watching over him. Red feathers had caught Tokoyami’s blunders a fair few times recently.

Hawks hums, amused, as Tokoyami shoots forward. Trying for speed and stability; ignoring his surroundings. Red feathers caught Tokoyami before he ran face first into the wall.

“Keep your eyes forward!” He called out.

Tokoyami took his words to heart; thanking him for them. It was all a little too serious (had he left Tokoyami with such a bad opinion of him that the smallest piece of advice was considered a rarity to be cherished?). Well whatever.

A quick check of the time and he’s calling an end to today’s session. He really is only able to fit in about half an hour a week to help Tokoyami train and even that is on borrowed time. So busy.

“Thank you for the session,” Tokoyami says, always grateful for the little time Hawks gives him.

“No problem,” Hawks dismisses, aware he should probably be able to provide the kid with more than he’s given. “Let’s get back up to the lobby, there’s something I have to do first before escorting you back to UA.”

“A new case?” Tokoyami asks, intrigued. Hawks barely suppresses a snort.

“No.”

And Tokoyami leaves it at that even though he clearly wants to ask more. It’s a good thing to have in an intern and sidekick; unquestionable acceptance, but it’s so dangerous (and not to mention boring)! What if Hawks took advantage of that? What if he was tricking everyone, double crossing everyone? He needs a little less acceptance sometimes. But, well at least this makes getting to the lobby quicker and less painful.

And he wants to get to the lobby quickly. A certain benefactoree waiting for him.

He hits the button for the elevator. Waits patiently as the lift comes down to the floor they’re currently on; it takes a fair few minutes given the level of security one needs to have to reach this floor.

He wishes he could just jump out the window and fly up, but mentoring the future and all that. Maybe he could claim it was extra training for Tokoyami?

He pauses a moment. Thinks about it. No. That would be so much extra paperwork.

“You seem eager,” Tokoyami notes just as the doors slide open and Hawks bounds in; steps eager.

“Yep,” Hawks answers honestly (because why not?) and presses for the lobby floor before Tokoyami’s even in the lift (he doesn’t leave his little intern behind though, waiting patiently as the kid walks calmly into the lift and stands beside him).

“Is it a Pro Hero?” Tokoyami asks, as the lift starts its climb up.

It’s not a bad guess. Hawks is known, at least amongst his sidekicks and close colleagues, to idolise Endeavour. Some assume that means the feeling goes out to other Heroes (and sure he gets along with others, but Endeavour is his Hero; his childhood Hero), so it’s not a bad guess. Not a bad guess... but it does mean Tokoyami’s been hearing all kinds of facts about Hawks from his sidekicks. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, but if Tokoyami is connected to the information leak in anyway information on Hawks could reach the League of Villains.

He needs to be careful.

“No, it’s not a Pro Hero,” Hawks grins down at Tokoyami, completely unrepentant on how obtuse he’s being.

Tokoyami looks like he’s going to ask more, but huffs a little sigh. Deciding waiting is the easier option and- well Hawks has to change his opinion ever so slightly. Tokoyami isn’t going to just idly go along with what he says, he should have expected that with the desperate need to improve himself, he’ll ask questions and probe for answers. Though it appears he’ll refrain from pushing too much. Interesting. Tokoyami’s interesting.

The lift reaches the lobby floor with a pleasant sounding ding and all thoughts of Tokoyami leave his mind as he walks out onto the floor.

The lobby floor is a wide open space, with a large sofa spread out across the walls. It’s on the 15th floor and only people who have past security on the 1st floor can even dream of stepping foot here. It’s essentially a fancy waiting room for esteemed guests. And Hawks’ highest esteemed guest is waiting for him right on the edge of the seat nearest the lift.

“Izuku,” he calls out cheerfully, raising a hand in greeting as he approaches in a few quick strides. “What do you have?”

“Uh there’s a few designs I’ve been working on, but I was thinking-” Izuku trails off, his wide eyes watching Tokoyami as he gets closer; his hands clutching his sketch book awkwardly. “You’re Tokoyami.”

“You know my intern?” Hawks asks, intrigued, before Tokoyami can even think of responding.

“Uh, not personally,” he gives Tokoyami a small smile. “I watched the UA festival- you did really well, your Quirk is so diverse- and, well Kacchan’s told me about you.”

“Thank you,” Tokoyami says sincerely at the compliments for the UA festival, yet trails off slightly, “I’m not sure I know a ‘Kacchan’.”

“Katsuki... I mean you probably know him better as Bakugo,” Izuku explains. “He’s my childhood friend.”

“Oh...” Tokoyami’s eyes widen; surprised. “I can’t imagine Bakugo having anything nice to say.”

Or having a childhood friend, Hawks thinks. The bundle of anger that had placed first in the UA sports festival would have been impressive if it hadn’t been for the extreme violence and aggravation displayed at his first place win. On the plus side the kid had managed to show his stubbornness in being a Hero against the League when he had been kidnapped.

“Kacchan...” Izuku laughs a little, expression fond. “Has a... unique way of expressing himself. So his exact words when describing you were: ‘the poor fucking sap had a bad match up against my Quirk’, but in Kacchan speak that’s the closest you’ll get to him acknowledging your strength.”

“I see...” Tokoyami says amiably, but Hawks can tell he doesn’t believe Izuku’s words. Can tell Izuku notices the hesitance to believe, but he just smiles.

“Just keep an eye on Kacchan, you’ll notice his patterns and tells,” Izuku snorts. “All Might’s his favourite Hero and I know he’s called All Might a ‘fucking bastard’ to his face.”

“Izuku,” Hawks decides to step back into the conversation (before they forget he’s here too). “I don’t know whether I should be more surprised by your language, that you‘re friends with Bakugo or that you call him such a cute nickname.”

“I’ve always called him Kacchan,” Izuku says and Hawks notices the distinct lack of answers towards his other statements.

“And he lets you?” Hawks raises a brow.

“Of course,” Izuku shrugs, “it would be weird to call him anything else.”

Hawks hums, inquiringly, before holding his hand out. “So new designs?”

“Oh, yeah,” he hands his sketchbook over without a second’s thought. Hawks starts flicking through.

“Designs?” Tokoyami asks. “Do you design Hero costumes?”

“Maybe in the future,” Izuku admits. “But, Hawks makes it possible for me to legally spray paint.”

“Spray paint?” Tokoyami asks, intrigued.

“Oh, right,” Hawks says, turning the page on an impressive image of Gang Orca. “I didn’t get a chance to introduce Izuku. This is Midoriya Izuku, I’m his benefactor so he can continue to create those impressive art pieces. I’m his number one fan after all.”

“Ah, that’s a little,” Izuku flushes, face going bright red. “I’ve only done a few pieces and I have a lot to learn still and-”

“And even with all that, you’re my favourite artist,” Hawks reassures with a grin.

Izuku just stutters and Tokoyami looks at the Graffiti artist with worry. Aw, look at the kiddies getting along!

“So, what piece is it you’re planning on doing?” Hawks asks, as he turns from one image of Jeanist to another image of him in a different style.

“Ah, on the last page, I’ve finalised a design,” Izuku explains. “All the stuff before is just concepts.”

The sketch book is a large one. A4 in size, with over a 100 sheets of thick paper. So far both sides of the pages have been used. Izuku couldn’t have started this sketchbook recently, but...

“Well, I want to look through the whole thing, so why don’t you two get to know each other while I go through this,” Hawks says, while slumping into the coach. He stretched his wings out wide; they truly could be burdensome on a good day.

He turns another page; sees sketches of Miruko. He can’t help but grin at them, he knows the Hero would be ecstatic to have a spray painting of herself around. She’d probably insist being there as it’s being made so she can be the first to pose with the image. Hawks might be willing to give up being first to her, but only because he knows Izuku would be thrilled to have another Pro Hero around while working. He’d ask questions and theorise about her Quirk. Just like he is doing now with Tokoyami.

“So, going by Kacchan’s words I’m guessing light is your Quirk’s weakness,” Izuku guesses, eyes wide with excitement.

“How are you sure it’s light and not the explosions themselves?” Tokoyami asks, comfortable even given the subject manner.

“Well, in the horse race you were careful to avoid Todoroki and Kaminari as well and the similarity between all their Quirks is the light they give off. There’s also the fact when Kacchan had you pinned down he was constantly causing small explosions in the palm of his hand. He wouldn’t usually do that, because it could mess with his wrists,” Izuku explains.

“His wrists?” Tokoyami asks, intrigued.

“Yeah, it’s one of the drawbacks from his Quirk. Kacchan knows how to deal with it, but he’d rather not risk ruining his wrists for just anything,” Izuku gushes, and really Hawks never thought he’d hear such admiration directed towards Bakugo. Then again his favourite Hero is Endeavour and that man has his controversies. The things Hawks had heard!

Hawks turns to the next page of the sketchbook. An image of Mount Lady poses across the pages. She’s not really a Hero Hawks has interacted with; there’s three things he usually hears about her though. One, the amount of property damage she creates. Two, the gossip about whether her and Kamui Woods were together or not. And three, the way she had defended Bakugo through the rescue mission they had held for the kid. For seemingly only working as a Pro Hero for a year and a half she had enough clout to warrant Izuku’s attention but...

He turned a page and more detailed, finalised, images of Mount Lady appeared.

What exactly had Mount Lady done to gain Izuku’s attention? He peers at Izuku over the top of the sketchbook.

“So how has Kacchan been in class?” Izuku asks. “His descriptions always leave more to be desired.”

“He’s a force to be reckoned with,” Tokoyami answers honestly. “Yet some members of our class have fought hard through the storm.”

“Kacchan is like a natural disaster,” Izuku laughs lightly. “I’m glad he’s made some friends though.”

“Has Bakugo often walked a path of solitude?” Tokoyami asks; a genuine intrigue glittering behind his eyes.

“Well, Kacchan’s always had people around him, but it’s rare for him to pay anyone genuine attention... or to stop calling anyone he’s not interested in as ‘extras’,” Izuku rubs at the back of his neck, a nervous gesture Hawks can only assume comes from remembering something ridiculous his childhood friend had done.

“He calls most of the class ‘extras’,” Tokoyami admits.

“That does sound like Kacchan, but he actually acknowledges and talks about his classmates. He’s never done that in the past!” Izuku proceeds to gush about what he’s heard of the 1-A students. Tokoyami flustering at the high praise that apparently comes from ‘Kacchan’ (Hawks bets it’s more of Izuku’s translations; greatly edited and biased).

Looking down on the pictures of Mount Lady. Turning the page for more potential designs of Mount Lady it’s obvious where the inspiration came from. Who wouldn’t idolise the Hero that helped save and protect your childhood friend. That might even be where the Best Jeanist and Gang Orca pictures came from. He had mentioned the All Might works being personal, so why wouldn’t other pieces be? Though, Hawks doubts Izuku has met any other Heroes (the kid wouldn’t be able to resist talking about them if he had).

So inspiring? Personally inspiring? How to make Endeavour personally inspiring? It’s not that he doesn’t like all these pieces! He’s glad Izuku listened about the whole supporting existing Heroes, it’s just... Endeavour’s his favourite. His Hero since childhood. And! And, Endeavour’s going to be the number one Hero. He’s going to be the most highly sort after Hero and... He’s lacking in support. He was kind of hoping Izuku’s work could garner a little reaction for the new number one, but... if Izuku doesn’t feel inspired by Endeavour there’s nothing he can really do.

And he doesn’t feel inspired by Endeavour. He admires him, knows of Endeavour’s basic appeal, but he isn’t compelled to spray paint Hawks’ favourite Hero. He wonders when Izuku would have got around to spray painting Endeavour if Hawks hadn’t requested it.

Hawks glances over at the large windows. They’re clear now. The government had insisted on him replacing the windows and cleaning everything. Hawks hadn’t wanted to, but he understands the need to keep his Hero agency clear of graffiti. Especially graffiti of a different Hero on his Hero agency. He really wonders if Endeavour could inspire Izuku.

He turns another page.

Something different.

This page is filled with images of Sir Nighteye. Frantic sketches of the Hero in different poses. One of him standing straight; one hand pushing his glasses back, the other hand posed with a weapon. Another sketch is dynamic and appears as though the Hero is moving incredibly fast. These sketches are different from the ones before; less detail, drawn fast and quick. Hawks wonders at the sight Izuku must have made scribbling these all down.

Hawks turns the page and... more of the same. Sir Nighteye scribbled all over the page. This time a lot more half-finished drawings, as though the ideas were appearing faster than Izuku’s hand could keep up with.

Another page is turned and whatever Hero is meant to be seen on the next page is hard to tell, but Hawks can only assume it’s more of Sir Nighteye. The page is more sketches of body positioning and potential background, with absolutely no details.

He peers up at Izuku and Tokoyami talking again. Usually Izuku is so focused on Hawks’ expressions when skipping through his sketchbooks and Tokoyami is so focused on catching up with Hawks that it’s a little unusual to not have both of their undivided attention. But, they’re both so engrossed in their conversation.

“What’s it like having Eraser Head as your teacher?” Izuku asks, all eager puppy.

“His teaching technique is interesting. Both harsh and fair, nonetheless I would rather no other teacher,” Tokoyami explains, eager to please.

“That’s so cool and sounds like what you’d expect from the underground Hero. Did you know he’s made more of the people he’s saved cry over how harshly he’s scolded them?” Izuku lights up, eager to have a captive audience for his Hero gushing.

“I... did not,” Tokoyami admits, “it’s hard to find out much about Aizawa-sensei’s Hero career.”

“It’s not really reported on, him being an underground Hero, but there’s a whole dedicated fan base online,” Izuku explains, because of course Izuku knows about even the Heroes that keep to themselves.

Hawks kind of wants to laugh, but keeps it to a grin; not wanting to interrupt their discussion. Izuku’s obsessed with Heroes, loves them all; there’s no way he’d miss one (if he’s able). There’s no doubt he’d make another Endeavour piece given the time. For now Hawks can patiently wait.

The preceding pages end up being more of the same; potential designs. Some more detailed; some fleeting lines. Then there’s pages of colours. Paints lined up next to spray paint; samples of potential colour pieces. There’s an array of colours and they spread over numerous pages, all potential colours for the final piece. The books goes on and on like this, a crescendo for the final page. One final picture of Sir Nighteye.

The piece spreads out across the entire page. Vertically across the centre of the page is an image of Sir Nighteye; his figure tall and lean. His image almost angelic when juxtaposed to the rest of the image. Snaking out around the background, all coming from Sir Nighteye, are what appears to be film. The thick black lines of the film stand out against the bright colours Izuku’s used for the rest of the picture, but it’s what’s captured in the film that’s more eye catching. Images from Sir Nighteye’s career. Him saving a child, him taking down a villain; him working alongside All Might.

All Might really stands out.

“I see All Might’s snuck into the new piece,” Hawks says, teasing.

Izuku startles (and should Hawks be offended to have been forgotten about so much that Izuku physically jumps at the sound of his voice?).

“Ah, I guess he did,” Izuku laughs awkwardly, rubbing at his neck. “But, the focus is on Sir Nighteye, it’s... more of a mural piece than I usually do, but Sir Nighteye was an amazing Hero, so... it’s kind of a thank you piece and a final farewell?”

Izuku’s so earnest that Hawks can’t help but smile.

“Sounds good, it might take me a little bit to arrange something this time. Things are hectic with the Hero rankings coming up,” and the whole league of Villains thing, “but I’ll sort something out quickly.”

“Ah, you don’t need to rush, I’m just grateful you’re willing to do something like this for me!” Izuku is quick to dismiss, but more interestingly Tokoyami seems interested. Or maybe less Tokoyami and his Quirk Dark Shadow.

The bird like entity is shadowy in appearance. One would think it was Tokoyami’s shadow come to life if it wasn’t the fact his shadow sat happily on the ground beneath him, or for the fact that it had a mind of its own. Right now it’s peering over Tokoyami’s shoulder; trying to get closer to Hawks without the Hero knowing. Trying to look at the sketchbook Hawks had been flicking through.

Hawks closes the book with a resounding thud. Dark Shadow retreats.

With a grin Hawks hands the book back to Izuku.

With a grin Hawks says: “well with Tokoyami’s help I might be able to speed the process up.”

Chapter Text

The area’s a little run down, a little banged up, not nearly as nice as it once was, but that’s to be expected when one takes note of the fight that took place not too long ago here. The road is still upturned where Dragon Hero Ryukyu had been slammed into the ground, the walls lay shattered where some of the villains had burst through with a surprise attack; a few buildings had been torn down when the main villain Overhaul had taken his last stand. It’s a horrific scene really, but it has to be here. Sir Nighteye’s final stand. The last place he showed his courage (at least publicly; Izuku has no idea what happened when Sir Nighteye was at the hospital. For all he knows Sir Nighteye was a true Hero even in his dying moments).

“A dark place indeed,” Tokoyami says beside him, Tokoyami’s eyes never stop surveying the area. “A place for only the most restless souls.”

“Yeah... it’s not the best place, but...” the bags in Izuku’s hands rustle, creating a symphony of metals clanking together. “We can make it better. A mural to lighten this place up.”

“I can’t rid the darkness from my heart, but the world around us. A noble cause indeed,” Tokoyami nods along to his words and Izuku agrees in his own awkward way.

He’s not used to friends his own age. All he has is Kacchan, and that was yelling and competition and pride. He’s not sure if all friendships are like that, but it’s what he’s used to, so having Tokoyami as a friend is a little strange. He likes the future Pro Hero, of course he does (when doesn’t he like a Hero?), but he’s not sure how to interact with Tokoyami. The future Pro Hero has a tendency to speak in ways that spark the imagination, but aren’t always easy to follow. All Izuku’s been able to do is smile and agree, but... that feels distant. Not at all like a real friendship. Not at all like the easy going conversation they had last time they met. Maybe it’s the weeks in between their meeting that’s either clouded Izuku’s memory or have made things awkward now. Maybe it’s the more serious situation; they’re both doing a job. Maybe Izuku needs to speak up some more.

“We should head over to the building Hawks commissioned,” Izuku points further on, pass the messed up streets.

With one last glance of their surroundings, Tokoyami answers. “Of course, lead the way.”

Silence as they walk and- maybe he shouldn’t have spoken? Maybe he’s made it more awkward now? He could ask Tokoyami about class, or- no! It’s better to keep quiet; focus on the task.

He glances down at the bags in hand. There’s a lot this time. Had to purchase the spray paint in bulk. So many colours. Such a large scale piece. It’s heavy to carry, but worth it.

“Why are you making the mural so far from the fight?” Tokoyami asks, as they turn a corner; hiding the mess behind them a little. “Could Hawks not find somewhere closer?”

“It’s not that,” Izuku denies. “There were a lot of offers actually; businesses in the area going bankrupt after the mafia scandal and a lot of damaged walls that could use a little colour, it’s just... I didn’t think the mafia would particularly enjoy a mural of the Hero that took their business down so close, so I discussed with Hawks what a respectable distance would be. There are probably people still living at the estate over there that still respect and love Overhaul; no matter how villainous he is.”

“Having the mural somewhere Overhaul’s followers could see could act as a deterrent for others who follow in his footsteps,” Tokoyami suggests.

Izuku’s already shaking his head in disagreement.

“It could be just as easily used as a success story for them; a way to motivate them. Overhaul killed a Hero, why can’t they? Or it could make them angry, Graffiti the Graffiti and... Well I know how much Graffiti takes to clean up and... That’s a lot of unneeded work for the local authorities,” Izuku explains calmly, before he smiles brightly. “But, more importantly, that’s not what this work is about. This piece is dedicated to the life of Sir Nighteye. It’s meant to amaze people on how he lived his life. It’s not meant to criticise his enemies. It’s not meant to inspire fear. It’s meant to inspire joy of the Hero we’ve all admired. It’s meant to keep him around. Alive.”

Tokoyami hums in thought, taking a moment to process his words.

“There’s a lot of thought placed into your work,” he says, a touch of admiration tinting his words. “Art is not my forte, but I’ve long since admired it. The layers of anguish and depth one can paint is astounding. I must admit I’ve a bias to the darker side of art, that I may have missed the complexities of the joys art can provide. Finding hope in death for example. It’s a complexity I would have never thought to undertake.”

“Ah. No. It’s... it’s nothing special,” Izuku disagrees. “Really it’s all thanks to Hawks that I even thought about where to make this piece. If it was just left up to me I’d have picked something not as meaningful!”

They turn another corner as Izuku tries to control his blush and stuttering. He was definitely making a fool of himself, he was sure. He just... needed to stop talking. Any second now.

“What is it about the location that made you choose it, if you’d have chosen anywhere before?” Tokoyami asks, seeming genuinely interested.

“Well, it’s not that I’d have chosen anywhere. It’s a mural, so it’d have to be meaningful... either Sir Nighteye’s hometown, his greatest fight or his last Hero fight. That’s all I thought of originally. Hawks was the one that made me think about how people would react in the local area, so we’re doing this here,” Izuku comes to a stop, gesturing grandly at the building before them.

It’s not a particularly special building. The same bricked building you’d find anywhere. A small door to the side leads further in a small restaurant; not especially eye catching, but not exactly why they’re here. They’re here for the large blank canvas the wall provides.

“Behind these buildings is where the fight took place; the broken street we just passed. Sir Nighteye’s Quirk is about seeing the future. I thought it would be cool if the last fight was behind the building I paint on. Like he’s protecting the area or seeing what’s happening through the building; that kind of feeling,” Izuku explains; setting the bags down to take in the sheer scope of his latest canvas.

It’s not the first time he’s seen it. Hawks took him here beforehand to arrange this; had insisted he learn how exactly to discuss these kind of meetings. Izuku’s not positive he’d manage on his own, Hawks’ so much more persuasive and charismatic than he, but it was a learning curve he’ll have to undertake. He can’t rely on Hawks forever. Though, he is right now. This building had been set up by Hawks. Another forklift brought to the location just so he can reach the highest part of the building without risking his life.

“Like he’s moving on,” Tokoyami says thoughtfully. “Like this fight is behind him. Poetic.”

It takes Izuku a moment to catch on; his thoughts spiralling away, but when he does he agrees. It is a wonderful way of thinking about the picture he’s about to paint. That Sir Nighteye even in death can’t be held back by this fight. That he’s moving on; happy and fulfilled with his existence. Izuku has no proof of that, but it’s too wonderful a thought not to believe in.

“Right,” he says determined. “Let’s start.”

“Do we not need to inform the owners that we’re starting?” Tokoyami questions, a little unsure.

“Hawks already did so. The restaurant is closed today so we won’t get in the way of business as well,” Izuku explained. There was so much going on behind the scenes to do this legally.

Worth it though.

With eyes sparkling. With a grin firmly in place. With hands clenched into fists. Izuku grabs a light blue spray paint.

This is going to be amazing.

He steps forward onto the forklift and-

“What do you need me to do?” Tokoyami questions.

“I... well when Hawks came with me last time, he just kept watch as I worked?” Even to Izuku’s ears he sounded like he was questioning it, as though he wasn’t there to witness what Hawks had done. He should explain himself more. Explain that Hawks had insisted he be there for extra safety, as though Izuku hadn’t sat through hours of safety procedures when using a forklift just for this moment; as though Hawks didn’t just want to be the first with his face attached to the picture.

“I’ll keep vigil,” Tokoyami nods, somehow understanding Izuku... maybe? “I shall take your safety seriously.”

“Thanks...” Izuku didn’t really think he needed it, but- “I never doubted you would. Being a UA student must insist on only the best!”

“Well...” Tokoyami manoeuvres so he could keep as eye on Izuku and the street around them. “A student in my class would agree with that.”

“You don’t?” Izuku says, attention split between the can in hand and Tokoyami. He should get to work, he only had limited hours to work, but... UA is amazing! It had always been his dream. He... he couldn’t just lose this opportunity! Kacchan hardly shared anything relevant!

“It’s not like that. UA definitely demands a lot from its students,” Tokoyami explains. “This student is just a little too enthusiastic with his belief of what UA expects from its students.”

“Ah, I see it must be hard,” Izuku hums in thought. “Living up to others expectations.”

“It... it is a challenge,” Tokoyami agrees. “Coming from all corners of the nation.”

“What do you mean?” Izuku inquires.

“Well, not that I’m complaining, but the teachers, the media, the students, our parents; the Hero agencies they have such high expectations for us. It’s not that I feel like they shouldn’t, we’re to be future Pro Heroes of course we should be held to high expectations, but it can be daunting at times. I don’t want to let any of them down,” Tokoyami looks down at his hand. “I don’t want to let myself down.”

“That’s a heavy burden to bear...” Izuku admits. He... knows what it’s like not being able to reach one’s expectations. “I... wanted to be a Pro Hero, always had since I was a kid. My expectations for myself were always too high...”

He lets the words settle there. Heavy and awkwardly hanging over their heads. He focuses on the spray can in his hand. Focuses on the wall- the blank canvas- before him and pressed the button down.

The oppressive silence around them is filled with a hiss as the grey-ish white of the building turns a brilliant blue. Izuku smiles.

“I’m Quirkless. Never had a chance to become a Hero, but I focused on it for so long that I was never able to move on until it kind of slapped me in the face,” Izuku shakes his head, here he was getting side-tracked by old dreams again; he needed to focus on his art, not beg for information from a UA student. He had his own purpose in life now. He sprays the wall blue with more vigour. “What I’m trying to say, in my own inarticulate way, is that you are already on your way to becoming a Hero. Who cares if you’re the number 1 or the 1026th? As long as you’re doing your job to save as many people as possible it doesn’t matter. Every Pro Hero is amazing for choosing to risk their life to save others.”

“I don’t think I can live with that,” Tokoyami disagrees, crossing his arms across his chest. A closed off posture. “I’m interning for the number 3 Hero. I’m a part of the class that’s been attacked by villains. I placed third in the UA tournament. There’s too much pressure for me to be anything but the best.”

“The best in the Hero rankings or the best you can be?” His silence afterwards is more than enough of an answer. Izuku sighs; maybe he just doesn’t get his cause he’s Quirkless? For him it was never about being the number 1, it was about helping people with a smile on his face, but Kacchan has always been competitive. Kacchan will be an amazing Hero. “I’m not saying it’s wrong to pressure yourself a little, just take it easy as well. Lessen some of those expectations- like Hawks for example! I’m sure Hawks won’t care if you’re not the number 1!”

“Hawks is the number 3 Hero. Hawks is the Hero that said he believes public opinion is more important than anything. I can’t lose and make him lose positive attention from the public,” Tokoyami argues. “Being trained by such a high ranking Hero... I can’t let him down.”

“Has he ever said you’ve let him down?” Izuku asks.

Tokoyami doesn’t answer.

“Has he said why he’s interning you? Ever mentioned that it was for publicity?” Izuku inquires.

“He... he said it was because we were both birds,” Tokoyami sighs and Izuku has to stop spraying the wall for a second.

They were both birds? That was a ridiculous answer, who would- of course Hawks would say something like that. He liked to be contrary even at the worst times; he liked to be complication incarnate.

“Yeah... that sounds like Hawks,” Izuku admits, he adores the Hero but even he knew the man could be too much at times. “Is that all he said?”

“He also mentioned me being from Class 1-A was a factor,” so either Hawks’ curiosity about the class that had been attacked by villains got the best of him or he was working on a case about those villains. “He... did mention I had potential and... has been trying to help me learn to fly using my Quirk.”

“Wha-? That’s amazing! I saw your fight at the UA festival and Dark Shadow was already so versatile! Being able to add flight into your repertoire would make you and Dark Shadow’s attacks all the more powerful. Being able to fight from all angles will give you such an advantage. Are you able to use long ranged attacks while flying? You seemed to favour distance at the UA festival!” Izuku gushes, his analytic mind not able to stop itself even as he keeps half a focus on his work in front of him. Even though he doesn’t keep an analyst book for his future as a Hero anymore.

“I... It’s for close ranged fighting. Close-up combat was too much a weakness, so I’ve been developing ways to overcome it; Hawks’ teachings on how to fly has helped with my close combat fighting though. You’re right when you say flying gives an advantage, but it’s not only altitude it’s helped with. It’s the speed I’ve gained through flight that’s really helped,” Tokoyami explains.

“That’s impressive!” Izuku insists. “I mean if we compare your progress to the usual progress a Pro Hero makes; you’re already working on third year techniques and you’re interning! Internships aren’t usually given until second year and even then they’re limited! I wish I could be in your class; you’re getting so much more experience.”

“You’d fit in,” Tokoyami admits. “Your observation skills are more than impressive as well. Our class would benefit from them.”

“Ah, it’s just a hobby I’ve had for years; observing Hero battles,” Izuku dismisses, embarrassed.

A comfortable silence blankets them at that declaration. A silence that’s peaceful for the both of them and allows Izuku to focus on the spray painting image.

Right. Time to finish the background!

Spraying an entire layer of light blue along a tall building takes a while. An hour of slowly moving the fork lift up and carefully laying a strong layer of blue down. He wants it to be bold; to demand the eye. He goes through more than one can of paint.

Tokoyami watches the entire time. He and his Quirk Dark Shadow keeping a vigilant gaze upon the whole street and Izuku. It’s mostly empty, probably due to the fight not too long ago, but the few people that pass stare, but don’t comment or question what the two of them are doing.

He takes up another can of spray paint ready to move onto the next part. A black and white; to make spiralling film move out in eight different directions from a certain point in the middle. Each film moves and curls around itself in different ways. Each one will have a different image presented on the film, but he needs the film first so he can align the rest of the image up perfectly.

“What made you choose to be a graffiti artist?” Tokoyami says when he’s focusing on a part close to the ground. “It seems like a drastic change from wanting to be a hero.”

“I guess it is...” Izuku hadn’t really thought on it like that. It was a drastic change, but his ideals had never changed; he’ll help as many people as he can. “Art is something I’m good at. I’ve been drawing and analysing Heroes since I could hold a pen. When I thought about changing my future career I could only think to rely on my artistic skills; the plan is to design Hero costumes.”

“Is that still the plan?” Tokoyami asks.

“Yeah. I haven’t given up on that; I go to an art school in Tokyo,” Izuku grins, the workload was hectic (especially with the graffiti work piled on top) but worth it. “Just when I was playing around with different mediums to use while designing, I discovered my love for spray painting. It also helped me reconnect with an old friend, so I’m really fond of the medium.”

“And that made you want to work on large scale pieces like this?” Tokoyami questions, trying to understand.

“Well, not quite. One day, after All Might’s retirement, I wanted to start working on large pieces. To get a message out to the rest of the country,” Izuku explained vaguely.

“Like the large ‘I AM HERE’ piece?” Tokoyami questions.

“Right! Like that,” except that piece was definitely done by Izuku himself, but there were plenty of legal reasons he couldn’t bring it up, most of which Hawks had drilled into his mind. He... maybe shouldn’t mention All Might’s retirement as an explanation again in the future. It wouldn’t take a lot to tie the ‘I AM HERE’ piece back to Hawks.

“That piece has been drawing a lot of traction to graffiti art,” Tokoyami agrees. “A lot of my classmates talk about it. Even Bakugo has chimed in on occasion.”

“He has?” Izuku looks at Tokoyami, cautiously optimistic. “What has he said?”

“As is Bakugo’s way; he just wordlessly raged,” Tokoyami explains.

“Of course he did,” Izuku gives a little half laugh. He really shouldn’t expect any less from Kacchan. Kacchan was more likely to complain about graffiti, especially after Izuku had dragged him into helping him without a full explanation of the situation. Kacchan had still wished him well though! Told him to be careful without Kacchan around to help. Izuku has more than enough people to help him nowadays though. More than enough people he has to keep happy!

He finishes spraying the film and starts focusing in on the centre. The most important part of this piece.

Sir Nighteye is to stand straight across the entire image; making the film look like it’s all being produced by the late Pro Hero. He works on that. Focusing on Sir Nighteye’s posture.

Something he noted when learning Sir Nighteye’s form is the Pro Hero’s pose was unnaturally stiff when compared to the art theory practiced in the 20th century and prior. Quirks had changed the centuries of art-know-how in less than a decade. Body types being morphed into shapes impossible for the human figure before the era of Quirks. A century prior Sir Nighteye’s body would appear too long, too straight; almost like a cartoon character, but nowadays it was a body not all that uncommon to the world. A body type that enhanced the image Izuku was going for. A body type that had led to Izuku choosing this composition and this building.

Using the tall building to stretch Sir Nighteye’s figure across its entire surface exaggerated Sir Nighteye’s appearance. Made his trademark ‘every day Japanese man’ persona much grander than it was. Made him appear tall, proud and all knowing. Exactly how his fan base saw him as. It was going to be great.

He spends hours immersed with the image. Making it up to his standards. He’s completely ignorant to pictures being taken of him working. So focused on the picture he’s even unaware of his muttering as he works.

Tokoyami’s there though so everything’s fine. The young intern makes sure no one gets too close to any of Izuku’s equipment, makes sure no one’s an obstruction; most importantly he tries not to gawk at Izuku’s work.

He was aware of the buzz going around about Hawks and street art, was aware that if Hawks was encouraging it the work must be phenomenal; was aware of Hawks’ high standard. He just hadn’t been aware of how amazing the work actually was.

He had heard Mina and Kaminari swoon over the work in class. Had overheard Momo and Jirou discuss going to see one of the pieces. Even Iida hadn’t a bad word to say on the street art. Thinking further on it, Tokoyami can’t remember Bakugo dissing the work like he would actively criticise anyone who walked in front of him. It was... surprising how little Tokoyami had wondered about it. Even after meeting Izuku that first time. Even after hearing the Pro Hero he interned under was heavily involved in it...

He was just so absorbed in improving himself. In working towards his future as a Pro Hero. In the hopes of reaching everyone’s expectations. It wasn’t necessarily a bad way to live but... he should be more aware. Should be able to manage his time well enough that he wasn’t constantly training. He hadn’t even had a chance to reread his favourite Edgar Alan Poe works recently.

He was all consumed. With work and training. Even this right now was work.

Yes, he was admiring Izuku’s work- more being mesmerised by its lure- but he was only able to give Izuku’s work half the admiration it deserved. Most of his focus kept on their surroundings; on keeping the small crowds that passed every now and again under control.

He needed to visit Izuku’s other pieces. Needed to spend the time to observe them, though he wouldn’t be given the privilege of watching the piece to come to life, like right now. He wouldn’t be given the privilege to question the artist directly, like right now.

“I can see why you underestimate what Hawks believes to be worthy,” Tokoyami laments, as Izuku finishes off some extra details on Sir Nighteye’s face. Like the eyes that, although obscured by glasses, seem to follow and judge everyone on the street.

“Wha-?” Izuku jolts back, almost tripping over his feet as he looks over at Tokoyami. “What?!”

“Your work is so impressive,” Tokoyami can’t keep the awe from his voice, not even to keep his ‘dark’ persona up. “It’s no wonder you don’t believe Hawks has high expectations; you’ve reached those expectations without even trying.”

“Well... I don’t know about that...” Izuku fiddles with the can in his hand; ignoring his work before him. “I... I’ve had a lot of practice with art. A lot of failures before the successes and... Well I’ve sketched and practiced this piece hundreds of times before coming out here... It’s not that I’m not trying and it’s not that I don’t think Hawks has high expectations. He does and... I’m not sure I’m meeting them, but while I have this opportunity all I can do is try my best. Keep going and hope if I don’t quite reach Hawks’ expectations he’ll let me know... he’ll give me the chance to carry on. It’s not easy, but... I guess I’ve made it look and sound that way?”

“No, I don’t think it’s that,” Tokoyami shakes his head. “It’s... probably a difference in skill sets that make things look easier and harder? Like I’m sure professional Pro Heroes make things look easy when it’s not, that kind of thing?”

“All Might and Hawks always make their fights appear easy,” Izuku agrees, and Tokoyami feels relief that his words are being understood. That he hasn’t accidentally offended Izuku by not articulating himself well enough. “Though, I know they’ve had their struggles. All Might with his weakened form and Hawks needs such high concentration to do what he does.”

“Yes, it may appear easy but it’s not. That’s what I meant when I was referencing how easy it appears you’ve won Hawks’ favour. I wasn’t meaning to make it appear you hadn’t worked hard,” Tokoyami explains, honest and sincere. “I hope my words hadn’t offended.”

It was always good to keep relations smooth, according to Hawks, but more than that Tokoyami didn’t want to accidentally offend Izuku. He rather enjoyed his company; Izuku’s artistic talent and personality both a delight.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Izuku flustered, his hands moving side to side fast to emphasise his words (not un-similar to Iida). “I wasn’t offended! I’m sorry I made you think I was- and sorry if I’ve offended you at any point!”

Just as Tokoyami’s about to assure Izuku that he wasn’t offended in any way, Izuku slips. He’s not sure how it happens, maybe Izuku’s fretting made him lose his footing, maybe he went to manoeuvre himself so he wouldn’t lose his footing and flailed; whatever the case Izuku slips. His body slamming hard into the side of the forklift. There’s safety bars along the edge of the forklift, Izuku’s not even far off the ground if he did somehow tumble over the safety bars, but still... Izuku is under Tokoyami’s care. This is his job; to keep him safe.

“Dark-” Tokoyami’s words are cut off with his world becoming red.

“You alright Izuku?” Hawks asks, Landing on the forklift like it’s nothing. Wrapping a hand around Izuku’s shoulder and helping him gain his footing.

“Yeah,” Izuku grins, though his eyes wince as he rubs at the back of his arm.

“Gonna be good to finish?” Hawks asks, his eyes roaming across the impressive piece before him. Impressive, but not finished.

“Yeah, it’s just a bruise at worst,” Izuku laughs it off. “A little clumsiness won’t stop me from finishing!”

With renewed vigour Izuku continues his work. Hawks watches him for a few seconds, making sure Izuku was truly as alright as he claims. After he’s relatively sure, he flies down to his intern; watching from the ground. Dark Shadow frozen as though he was prepared to fly the two of them up to Izuku.

“Got to be faster than that Tokoyami,” Hawks chides lightly. “A Hero has to be first on the scene even if nothing’s actually wrong.”

“Right,” Tokoyami takes the words to heart. Engraves them in his mind. He needs to be faster.

“Of course Izuku was never actually in danger,” Hawks allows, trying not to crush Tokoyami’s ambitions. “The forklift has safety measures, was checked just this morning to make sure it was in peek condition and this is Izuku we’re talking about; he spray painted my Hero agency without any safety measures in place.”

Tokoyami is... shocked. His eyes dart over to Izuku who has moved on from the centre piece of his work to the details within the film. Not every slide of the film will have an image, but the ones that do show differing images. All Might is in one Izuku’s currently working on at the top of the image. Izuku was hardworking and a great artist, but Tokoyami hadn’t expected the art student to have spray painted Hawks’ agency. He had heard of the event sure, it was mentioned everywhere and Hawks was his mentor so it had been mentioned to him by everyone, but... how and why had Izuku done it? Reports had eventually been given that Hawks had allowed the piece, but... most speculated that that wasn’t the whole truth... why would Hawks’ sidekicks have freaked out if the piece had been commissioned from the beginning?

“Curious about his other pieces?” Hawks asks. Amused. “I have to forewarn you I am his biggest fan, so I can take you to all of his work.”

“No...” Tokoyami denies, he had decided he would ask Izuku to take him to the pieces so he would do that. After the graffiti artist had finished with his work. Hopefully before Hawks forced an exhibition of Izuku’s work.

“Suit yourself,” Hawks shrugs, his eyes focusing on Izuku and the new piece. “I wasn’t sure about the whole mural idea, but Izuku outdoes himself as always.”

“It is an expressive piece,” Tokoyami agrees. There’s no denying that the art work is amazing, definitely a standard apart from normal street art.

“They always are,” Hawks assures. “Now. What have we learned today?”

They watch Izuku finish his latest masterpiece as Hawks quizzes him in his experience today. Almost every point Tokoyami makes (how to deal with crowd control?) is refuted (I didn’t even think there’d be such a crowd in an area like this). It’s only when Izuku seems to be adding the very last touch that Hawks explains.

“It was all about making time for the things you enjoy. Didn’t you think I got here earlier than I let on?”

Without waiting for a word, Hawks flies up, already arranging everything in this small part of the street how he likes. The forklift off to the side; away from the art. Izuku safely on the ground beside Tokoyami. All the empty spray paint cans cleared away in their bags; prepared to be disposed of at a later more convenient date. Then, with Izuku’s work on display for the whole world, the hard part come.

“Tokoyami you take the picture,” Hawks insists, the angle involving Tokoyami having to fly at an odd angle. This doesn’t feel like Tokoyami doing something that he wants to do. This feels like an ordinary day working for Hawks; Hawks commanding and Tokoyami obeying. Would he actively want to be here if this was free time? Would he have chosen to watch Izuku create street art if he was given the choice? He... he thinks he would. It might not have been his first choice but...

Lining the photo is hard. Hawks having the ingenious idea of posing in front of one of the empty frames of film, but to make it look like Hawks is in the frame the photo has to be taken at the right distance and right angle. Tokoyami is left to experiment with what’s right. He might choose to come here, but he definitely hadn’t relaxed. He definitely hadn’t done something he wanted to do all day. He had focused on the job at hand, focused on keeping watch over Izuku; that... is technically something he wants to do. Protect people. But, Hawks probably meant to take time off and do something. He probably had let Hawks down again.

Unless...

The lesson was to take advantage of all the time you have to do everything you want? It’s not advice everyone would give, especially not in this context; not everyone has the time and will to multitask like Hawks does, but... it’s a lesson Tokoyami will have to take to heart. A lesson he’ll have to think on later.

He takes the picture. Finding the best positioning after slowly adjusting himself and the camera.

Hawks smiles down at his phone when Tokoyami returns it; starts typing away as he slowly descends to the floor beside Izuku. Tokoyami follows.

“Right, amazing work as always. Izuku; Tokoyami. Now,” he looks up at them both, “let’s go eat.”

“Are you sure?” Izuku inquires, before Tokoyami can decline (would UA even let him linger that long even with a Pro Hero around?).

“I insist,” Hawks puts his phone away; finished with it for now. “Especially after the long hard day we’ve all had.”

Tokoyami still wants to decline, but...

“Fine,” Izuku relents, even though his body language reads reluctant. Hawks turns to Tokoyami, hopeful.

“Fine,” Tokoyami agrees. Hawks had told him to do what he wants and he does want to talk to Izuku a little longer. Maybe he can request to visit Izuku’s other artistic splurges...

Chapter Text

Sitting at his desk with his feet on the table he is immersed in research. And by research he means escapism.

He’s just finished his most recent mission update with certain government officials that want him to cosy on up with the League of Villains. He’s about half way through his most recent Hero reports; finalising and checking over his sidekicks accounts of his heroic events. Now, now he’s taking a break by researching. Avoiding the looming, depressing, amounts of work he hasn’t completed yet. Not that this research isn’t work in a way, just... he prefers this research. Not that he hasn’t come up with problems while researching.

If you were privy to Hawks’ computer history you’d come across tabs like ‘how to make profit as an artist’ or ‘an artist’s influences’. If you were privy to Hawks’ computer screen at this very moment you’d have witnessed Hawks reading through a forum where artists were debating the merit of changing their artistic vision to complete the orders of a commissions vs the idea that artistic style should be considered prior to ordering a commission. The research was for Izuku obviously. Well and Hawks... the research was incredibly beneficial to Hawks as well, though he still didn’t have any answers.

He was uncertain how to progress. He had explained to Izuku when he first started to do street art legally that he should focus on the future of Heroes. The ones that need the boost in attention now that All Might is out of commission, but well... Izuku continues to focus on the Heroes of the past. All Might and Ingenium had their careers ended prematurely, Sir Nighteye lost his life... they’re amazing people and pieces of art, but they just bring attention to the Heroes the industry had lost. They just tell the public that Heroes are fallible and when public opinion is the most important aspect for the Hero industry... those aren’t the opinions you want circling around. They should appear indestructible to the population. They should appear reliable. They should be the best they can be. If they aren’t... well... the panic wouldn’t be welcome.

But, he can’t exactly demand Izuku to follow his idea. Technically, he could. He could manipulate Izuku into wanting to make pieces like Hawks desired; the kid basically worships the ground he walks on. He could order Izuku to focus on the Heroes he wants him to; he was financing every venture Izuku worked towards. He could threaten Izuku to do the pieces he wanted; he had saved Izuku from numerous legal cases with his support. Just... that wouldn’t be fair.

Izuku trusts him. Had such high expectations of him. He doesn’t want to disappoint the kid. Not to mention the research Hawks had been observing... He didn’t want to destroy the kid’s creativity.

Numerous artists beseeched the impossible workload that was foisted onto them. The dreadful pay provided for the hundreds of hours of work. Hawks doesn’t want to force the kid into such a harsh working environment; doesn’t want Izuku to suffer from high demands. Where asking for a change of artistic direction might not seem like such an undertaking, multiple sources online had Hawks believing that isn’t quite the case.

The crunch time animators had to put in when the lead directors decided something didn’t work, only for the original product to be much better than what was changed.

The complaints received from actually following orders exactly, because it wasn’t something the artist was originally comfortable or experienced with.

The burnout from doing so much work that the artist didn’t really want to do, but had to.

There were too many horror stories and where they didn’t seem to fit Izuku (yet) he wasn’t going to risk them. Wasn’t going to risk Izuku. Especially when he showed signs he would eventually produce the work Hawks wanted him to produce. Most of Izuku’s sketch books were filled with images of alive and well Pro Heroes. Just the timing had been off so far. Things kept happening that sparked his interest towards those that had deceased. Something had to spark his interest towards the living Heroes.

Was there anything he could do to spark that interest?

Hawks sighs. Clicking off his research, he opens his social media. His mentions and alerts are overflowing after the newest picture. As expected.

He ended up uploading a simple photo of the Sir Nighteye piece. It was a shame he had to throw away Tokoyami’s hard work, but he figures posing with the graffiti lost the impact of the image. A mural like piece should be respected; Hawks didn’t need any controversy for posing light-heartedly with the image. Especially so soon after the other Hero’s death.

The image is posted with some words of consolation. Sincere words and a fantastic piece of art; of course it gained traction.

Comments poured in about how sad they are over Sir Nighteye’s death. Some recall their own memories of the Hero; those who had worked with the man and those who had been saved by the man. Hawks’ timeline is filled with the deceased Hero and it shows just how influential a piece of art could be. How a picture with the right backing could get the whole country talking about said image. Could get it trending on social media.

Hawks really needs Izuku to work more towards alive Heroes, but... would it be as affective?

It could be argued Izuku’s pieces are trending because they’re relevant. That his work catches the attention of everyone, because they aim at what’s on everyone’s mind. Unintentionally of course. Izuku doesn’t seem to be purposefully aiming for fame or people’s admiration; he’s working on what he wants to work on because it’s relevant. What’s relevant to Izuku is what’s relevant to everyone else, because-

Izuku’s the everyday man.

He lives an average life. Has two parents, though his father works abroad to keep his family financially stable. He’s Quirkless, which should make him unusual; only 20% of the population is Quirkless nowadays, but just makes him extra ordinary. His skills are those he’s had to work hard on without relying on his Quirk, which with the legal limitations placed on the world at large, is what everyone has to do. Even Izuku’s interests are what the majority of the population like: Pro Heroes.

Izuku’s whole focus and devotion is directed towards Pro Heroes. His whole work circles the existence of Pro Heroes, which... if Hawks is honest, is the same with the rest of the world. Whether you love them or hate them, everyone knows about Pro Heroes. Pro Heroes are paraded in front of everyone, are ranked by popularity amongst the masses and are even used as a marketing scheme. Even Hawks, number three- soon to be number two- Pro Hero of Japan, has a second job to enhance his popularity. His modelling career has nothing to do with heroics, but his heroics can sure sell things.

Maybe that’s why Izuku’s work gains traction. It’s only been Heroes that the kid has spray painted. He’s sure if Izuku spray painted an apple on the side of the building it wouldn’t gain this much attention.

Then again, Izuku wouldn’t spray paint an apple to the side of a building. Then again, without Hawks there to curb Izuku’s artistic vision Izuku’s piece would have gained traction for just how large scale they were.

Well the ‘what ifs’ were ridiculous to look into too seriously either way. He needs to focus on the now, and all he can really do is encourage the kid on; maybe if Izuku paints all the dead Pro Heroes he’ll move onto the live ones.

His phone rings.

It’s not uncommon while working, and he’s technically still at work, sometimes emergencies come up; sometimes there’s important information being sent through Hero channels. It’s honestly how he was able to make contact with the League of Villains; connecting the patterns through the vigilance of other Heroes. Predicting where the League will be through other Heroes’ observations.

Even the unknown number isn’t all that uncommon. Sometimes a Pro Hero is undercover and needs to contact via untraceable numbers. Sometimes a victim in desperate need of help manages to get through and they happen to have their number set as an unknown number. Sometimes a villain group you’re trying to befriend and deceive contact you to give you another test.

He feels the vibrations of his phone through every single feather on his back. Each collecting the data through the air and sending it back to him. His senses inform him of the ringing phone in over a thousand different ways.

A crescendo of trepidation.

He answers the phone.

“Hawks here,” he starts, an easy way to confirm if the person on the other side has the right number. A quick way to get the conversation over with.

“Hawks,” a gravelly voice on the other side starts. Dabi, then. A member of the League then.

In all his searching he was only ever able to make contact with one of the League members; Dabi. The man appeared to be roughly the same age as Hawks, but unlike Hawks left a whole lot of incinerated corpses in his wake. It really wasn’t hard to find the man with that kind of trail following him. A trail of ash always seemed to follow the man; it was unpleasant. Having to associate with such a man. Someone who kills everyone and everything.

Better him than someone else.

“Dabi,” he says, his voice cheerful in the same way when he deals with his fans. “Good to hear from you again.”

He can’t push the man when he’s finally contacting him; can’t press for an answer about joining the League. Yet.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He asks, because although he won’t push, he still needs the conversation to flow. Dabi wasn’t exactly getting voted conversationalist of the year anytime soon.

“The League has a mission coming up,” Dabi hesitates; either still uncertain on Hawks’ motivations or those poor conversational skills coming into play. “We’ll give you a test to prove your worth.”

“A test to join the League?” Hawks questions, making his and Dabi’s goals clear and precise.

“Of course not,” Dabi laughs, a harsh unforgiving sound. “What do you take the League for? This is a mission to test if we can reliably trust you. As a connection and nothing more; the League doesn’t let just anyone join.”

“Of course,” Hawks agrees, he has to agree for now. “I just hoped my value would be recognised by now. I have been giving you information from the Hero network.”

He can’t not remind Dabi of his use up until now. How he helped the League avoid detection, how he gave them useful information about certain Heroes. All for the sake of justice. It’s a shame he’s providing the other Heroes with more work, but it’s only until he has an in. Only until he has a way to destroy the League for the greater good.

“Well, this shouldn’t be a problem for you then, right?” Dabi says, voice scathing and mocking. “And seeing as you’re so sure of your worth I’m sure you’ll be willing to fight with the League on this issue.”

“As I’ve said Dabi, I’m on the inside. I’ve seen why the Hero community doesn’t work,” a half lie to appease and assure (half lie, because Hawks knows the Hero industry is not as pristine and great as the world is led to believe). “I’m up for whatever it is that you want me to do. Everything I’ll do is for the League.”

“We’ll see,” Dabi allows, before relaying the information. They’ll meet in an hour. “Come alone.”

“Of course,” Hawks isn’t new to this; of course he’ll come alone. If he went in with a full team of Heroes right now they’d never find the whole League. “I hope you’ll start to trust me soon. There’s plenty more I can help you with, with my connections.”

“We’ll see,” and he’s hung up on.

Well. That went great.

In all seriousness that did go better than planned. He had been met with so much hostility when he first met Dabi Hawks is sure he still has a few singed wings. But, he’s got Dabi actually holding a conversation now, if not an abnormal amount of reminders about arriving alone and such things. Well, he guesses he’d be like that if he was a wanted criminal himself. Can’t be easy hiding from all forms of society after all. Well, it would be Dabi’s own fault. Shouldn’t have murdered hundreds of people for no good reason.

With a sigh, he stands up.

Cracking his spine. He has a few things he needs to sort out before he meets up with Hawks.

The first problem should just be approaching his door now.

“Hawks,” Tokoyami greets, as he walks into the office. Hawks has an open door policy for his sidekicks and interns; if he didn’t want them in he’d be able to stop them before they reached the door after all.

“Tokoyami,” Hawks greets back. “Something urgent has come up, so I’m going to have to cancel.”

It wasn’t exactly fair for Tokoyami to have come all the way for his internship only to be dismissed, especially considering Tokoyami had to miss class for these internship sessions, but... sadly life wasn’t always fair and Hawks had to suck up to some villains. Honestly he’d rather stay here, but...

“I see,” Tokoyami agrees, an easy acceptance that doesn’t do anything for Hawks’ conscious. “I’ll phone the school up and-”

“Well, you don’t have to go back to school yet,” Hawks disagrees. “You’ve come all the way here after all. I have something else you can do, I’ll even get it approved by your school.”

“What is it?” There’s a slight hesitance to Tokoyami’s words, which is completely unfounded. When has Hawks ever let him down before?

“Izuku’s going to be arriving in about half an hour, I had somethings I needed to discuss with him, but seeing as I’m busy now it’s a perfect opportunity for the two of you to go on that date,” Hawks explains, his tone serious the entire time. Tokoyami’s entire body seems to sigh.

“It’s not a date,” is Tokoyami’s first defence; not necessarily a needed one, but the first defence nonetheless. “I’d be missing lessons to just play around, I’m assuming the same can be said for Izuku,” the second defence is a little stronger but still easy to counter. “You just don’t want to tell Izuku in person.”

Maybe some truth in that last statement.

“I mean I can wait until Izuku arrives and tell him myself, I’m sure he’d agree with me that it’s a great idea,” he wouldn’t; the coursework Hawks has seen Izuku working on is ridiculous. “But you do need to learn to cut back and relax every now and then. Take a moment to decompress. Take this moment to decompress.”

“It’s irresponsible,” Tokoyami argues.

“What’s irresponsible is allowing so much stress build up; it’ll hamper your growth,” Hawks relays his years of experience to the new generation. “It’s hard to find a moment’s reprieve in our modern busy lifestyle, so when you’re being handed the opportunity to relax. To destress. You should take it Tokoyami. These moments are as big as your career opportunities, maybe more important; you don’t want to face burnout do you? Don’t want to hate the things you love. Don’t want to struggle to find a reason to leave your bed in the morning. Don’t-”

“Ok,” Tokoyami agrees; if only to stop Hawks from carrying on. Hawks can tell; he’s intimately familiar with that reaction.

“Good,” Hawks nods, as though Tokoyami wasn’t just reluctantly relenting to his plans. “I’ll make sure to explain to your school what’s going on, so you just worry about what to say to get Izuku to agree to your date.”

“It’s not a date,” Tokoyami denies, fruitlessly once again.

“Of course it’s not,” Hawks returns, laying the sarcasm on heavily. “It’s not like friends meet up to hang out or anything.”

And he leaves. Two of his problems, his prior engagements with Tokoyami and Izuku, solved. He leaves one problem, his graffiti art research, behind him; but at least the research had already been useful. He didn’t know the term ‘burnout’ before today but it was already proving useful. And explained a lot.

He sighs, thinking of the work behind him and the work before him. Sometimes he hates his job...

——

They had arranged to meet at an abandoned warehouse near some docks. It’s as cliché looking as it sounds. Large broken down building before him. Grime infested water beside him. Civilisation long behind him. On the plus side if Dabi decides to try and kill him, the only collateral is a building long since abandoned.

It had taken Hawks half an hour to fly here, Dabi choosing somewhere far out; a test already maybe. To see if he’d abandon his Hero work for League business. Well jokes on Dabi; this is his Hero work. Hero work that takes priority.

He walks into the building; never one to believe the phrase ‘fashionably late’. Dabi’s already there.

Of course, Hawks already knew Dabi was there. His wings seeking the vibrations out in the air; sensing where the villain was skulking. He has to fight down the urge to set his feathers after the villain; muscle memory working against him.

“I came alone,” he assures as he enters the building. “As promised.”

“Didn’t know you could follow instructions,” Dabi says, his tone casual; his pulse racing. He’s expecting a fight. Begging for one if the jibe is anything to go by.

“I have my moments,” Hawks shrugs, matching Dabi’s casualness. He’s... probably expecting a fight as well. “You have a mission- I mean test for me?”

Dabi stays quiet. Shoulders forced to relax- to slouch forward- hands in his pockets. His eyes never leave Hawks.

Hawks looks away. His eyes surveying their surroundings. The inside of the warehouse is not any more impressive than the outside. Dirt, dust and broken boxes litter the entire space. The large, expansive space. There’s even a broken toy or two from when the warehouse was still used. It would make the place creepy for a certain crowd.

He doesn’t look over at Dabi, waiting for as long as possible, hoping Dabi would take the first step forward for this collaboration. He needs trust. He’ll gain more trust, the more Dabi leads. The less forceful he is. It’s not like he’s in danger or anything anyway. He can sense Dabi’s every movement through the vibrations around them. Just makes him appear more docile than he is; not that he thinks for a second that Dabi will believe he’s docile at all.

“Alright...” Dabi says, the gravel of his voice catching in a way that almost appears intentional. “Alright. Let’s talk further inside.”

“Right,” Hawks walks closer; Dabi keeps the same distance between them but leads them further into the building. Hawks just can’t help himself. “We having this discussion at the disembodied dolls or the collection of ashes?”

He really can’t help himself.

“You have this one shot,” Dabi sends him this look that isn’t quite a glare, more like an incredulous stare that was trying to decipher his entire being. “You really want to try ruining it with sass?”

“I was under the impression the League could take a little sass,” Hawks... well sasses.

Dabi snorts. Doesn’t say anymore. Yet.

Their conversation takes place, Hawks would like it known, at the pile of ash. It smells freshly burnt.

“We’re trialling something,” Dabi leads, once they’re standing opposite each other. Dabi’s words don’t fill Hawks with relief.

There were so many potential tragic ways this could end. If they were dealing with drugs, and Hawks has it on good authority that the League might have their hands on the Quirk stopping drug, either Dabi could want to test it on Hawks or have Hawks test it on someone reputable. Neither option is preferable. They could be trialling some kind of pyramid like scheme to source a steady income; another respectable source had informed Hawks of the League’s struggle financially. Or trialling could be something else altogether; something even Hawks’ mind refuses to commit to.

Whatever it is Hawks will have to do. And do it with relish.

Not that he wants to relish in it, but appearances are what matter... maybe relish is too strong a word? Don’t want to come on too strong to the evil organisation after all.

“Ok. What are you trialling and where do I come into play?” Hawks says; up for anything. (He’s really hoping it’s not drugs).

“We have a new Nomu in production,” right. That could be potentially manageable. “It has thought, so it can learn. We want it to kill some Heroes.”

“So… you want me to provide you- it- with the Heroes to kill?” He asks, maybe a little hopefully. He could manipulate this situation to work for him, if he’s the Hero they want to kill well... he hasn’t done a very good job getting an in with the villains.

“You catch on quick,” Dabi allows. It doesn’t sound complimentary. “You provide us the Heroes to make it stronger and if you do a good job I’ll introduce you to our, glorious, leader.”

That didn’t sound complimentary either. Maybe Dabi’s just not good at the whole compliment thing. He is a social mess after all.

“If this Nomu is anything like the others I expect this fight will be highly destructive?” Hawks inquires, mind already trying to plan around the least casualties. No casualties would be preferable.

“A destructive power unlike any you’ve seen prior,” there’s a mad gleam to his smile that just... puts Hawks on edge. Just... how destructive could it be?

Very destructive. The Nomus of before had treated buildings, people and Heroes alike as playthings. Toys they could break. An improved thinking Nomu? That could be deadly for the world at large. One benefit of the old Nomus was they were mindless, only doing as their master bid. If they learned how to kill strong Heroes, if they were taught to be menaces to society... They’d be an unstoppable army. Though they couldn’t endlessly make them (needing numerous humans to fuse together) they could still make hundreds if left to their own devices, but would that matter if there were limited numbers? A well trained, well maintained, small army could be much better than a large unprepared one.

“I’ll get you your Heroes,” Hawks agrees. “But, I have a stipulation.”

He makes sure the words are said forcefully. Says them in a way that demands Dabi’s full cooperation. Dabi was never one to agree just because someone demanded it.

“Oh?” Dabi raises a brow. “You have a backbone now? Showing your real colours? You going to ask for my head?”

It’s goading. Dabi trying to force a fight. Dabi even makes his hand go on fire; threatening. Hawks keeps his cool. This isn’t a fight. His demand is reasonable. He’s not ruining all his hard work. He stares Dabi down, the seriousness never leaving his eyes.

“I’ll bring the Heroes here. Or wherever else you dub worthy, but it can’t be within a mile of civilisation. There’s no need to endanger hundreds of innocent citizens for your trial. There’s no need to gain the media attention for an incomplete Nomu. We kill the Heroes out here,” Hawks keeps his voice steady. Serious. He’s never sounded so serious in his life before.

“You’re a bleeding heart even when attempting to join the League of Villains, eh?” Dabi mocks. It just empowers Hawks.

“Hey, I told you my motivations. I see how corrupt the Hero industry is, I’ve seen it up close and personal. It needs to be torn down, citizens that are being manipulated by the way the industry works don’t need to be purposefully hurt; they’re ignorant,” Hawks has one final nail in the coffin, “Stain knew that. The Hero killer never killed any citizens.”

That draws Dabi short, as Hawks had known it would. The best way for Hawks to gain trust was to ride on the wave of Stain’s popularity. To use everyone else’s craze to blend in. To use the information he has as an insider of the Hero community to make it more believable. He knows so much about Stain the Hero killer; stuff a fanboy like Dabi could only dream of knowing.

“Fine. We’ll do this your way, you bleeding heart,” Hawks wears the title with pride, “but you better not try to double cross me. The new Nomu would be able to defeat an army if that’s what you bring, and I’ll incinerate what he leaves behind. The corpses won’t be recognised by their own mothers.”

“I’m not planning on double crossing you,” Hawks repeats, he’ll calmly repeat the sentiment as much as he needs. He needs to be trusted. “I want to help the League.”

They stare at each other. Hawks takes a moment to appreciate that they’re roughly the same height; all this staring would have killed his neck if Dabi was a little taller.

“Right, we’ll see,” Dabi allows, once again. At least Hawks can rely on just how useful he is; Dabi has to constantly second guess whether he can let him go. “I’ll contact you later to confirm details; don’t try anything funny like tracking the call or sharing this information with anyone.”

“Of course... any Hero suggestions?” Hawks hesitates to ask the last question, it would be easier to prepare without limitations, but he needs information about how strong they believe this Nomu is.

Dabi stares at him. Sizes him up. Then, seemingly for no reason, calls out loud: “Doctor.”

Before them a black goo like substance appears. Hawks tenses. It’s recognisable as the goo from the fight between All Might and All for One. A substance that can teleport people between one spot and another. It’s very limited though, from what Hawks could tell, but... how is it working now? He couldn’t sense anyone around and Dabi shouldn’t be able to use it...

The black blob moves erratically, slowly forming a creature; it’s almost as if the Quirk warping the creature is reforming it back molecule by molecule. The first thing seen is a neck. A long neck. It stretches out from the black blob and stretches and stretches. Muscles rip through the side of the neck, straining and reforming as the shoulders move. The shoulders can be seen next. They’re broad in a way that’s unnatural, as though they were placed as far apart as physically possible, which makes sense cause his back forms next and it’s unnaturally large. So large the only way the creature can stay standing is by hunching completely over itself. Of course, standing is meant in a loose term. Its tiny legs are helped kept steady by large muscular arms that brace themselves on the floor beside its seemingly useless legs. The black goop fades away to reveal the creature’s head. It dangles uselessly forward, obscured by loose pieces of flesh. It is grotesque, yet for all its impossible faults, strong.

“Someone that will put up a challenge for Hood,” Dabi says.

“What?” Hawks says, momentarily taken off guard as he takes note of this creature’s hulking figure.

“The Nomu, his name’s Hood,” Dabi explains, gesturing towards the Nomu- Hood. Wow... they’re naming Nomus now... on the plus side that must mean these new Nomus are incredibly limited... right?

“How exactly strong is Hood?” Hawks asks. The creature looks intimidating, but that doesn’t mean Hawks can accurately estimate its strength. Nomu are weird.

“How strong would you say you are Hood?” Dabi directs the question towards the Nomu.

“Strong...” Hood gasps, its voice sounds like it’s been diced and thrown in a laundromat. “Need to be... stronger.”

“Hawks here will help you get stronger,” Dabi explains, easily. “Want to demonstrate how strong you are for him?”

“Yes...” Hood hisses, the skin hanging around his face shifts with the word.

The space around them is suddenly filled with more Nomu; white in appearance compared to Hood’s purple-esque skin. Hawks can’t tell exactly where they appeared from, the vibrations in the air suddenly alerting him of their appearance; as though Hood had summoned them himself. As though Hood is their master; their pack leader.

As one the Nomus jump at Hood and he demolishes each and every one of them. Tearing them apart with little care to the other Nomus or himself. Blood splatters across the warehouse floor; leaving a horror scene for any who stumble across it. Hood hasn’t wavered or relented even as his flesh is equally torn apart. Of course, Hood’s flesh grows back. Regeneration, of course. How many Nomu have regenerative Quirks? Where exactly are the League finding such high quality Quirks to fuse like this?

The fight comes to end quickly enough.

“That’s how strong he is, make sure you bring a Hero that’s at least somewhat a challenge,” Dabi says, dismissive as he strolls towards Hood and the wreckage he left behind.

“I think I have someone in mind,” he’s bringing Endeavour. The number two, soon to be one, Hero is the only Hero in commission right now that would survive. He can’t risk bringing anyone else. Dabi said one Hero. He has to bring one Hero. Anyone else would die, so... Endeavour.

“I hope for your sake,” Dabi says as easy as breathing, “that you don’t double-cross us.”

“I won’t,” Hawks stresses, lying through his teeth.

“We’ll see. Doctor!” And the black goo appears once again, transporting everything away. Leaving Hawks alone; as though everything had been a horrid nightmare. A hallucination.

He has to get Endeavour to help. There’s no one he can rely on for this job if not... he’s going to let something out in the world. Something unstoppable. A real nightmare.

He’s already saying his apologises. Begging for forgiveness. But... he won’t turn from this path. If he doesn’t do this, who will? He’ll do anything to keep everyone safe. Even sell his soul...

He hopes Izuku and Tokoyami are enjoying themselves at least.

Chapter Text

Izuku finds himself sitting in front of the TV drawing. It’s become the norm lately, whether it’s because he loves watching Heroes, he enjoys the background noise or he’s looking for inspiration; he’s unsure. But, he’s in the exact same place he was when he was consumed with the need to draw and plan a mural for Sir Nighteye. Doing the exact same thing he was doing then. Being distracted from his school’s coursework with ideas for his spray painting ventures. Not that he can work on them right now. Hawks was... busy.

He had walked into Hawks’ office a couple weeks ago expecting Hawks. The Hero had called him in to talk about something (and Izuku hoped beyond hope that he hadn’t accidentally ruined his chances with Hawks being his benefactor. Had he done anything wrong?) only... Hawks wasn’t there. Tokoyami was.

“He left,” Tokoyami had groaned, leaning against Hawks desk. “He had something important come up and asked me to inform you.”

“Oh...” Izuku had said, his nerves that had been building up his entire trip over just building further and further. It was like he was a child waiting for their parent to chide them. “He could have just phoned... texted.”

“No, he...” Tokoyami sighed. “He suggested I wait to tell you, so you could show me your previous work. Like we discussed previously.”

“Uh... will that be ok? Isn’t UA super strict with where their students are allowed to go right now?” Izuku asked, fretting. Kacchan had complained endlessly about it to him and… he didn’t want Tokoyami getting in trouble.

“Hawks said it would be fine, that he’d sort it out...” Tokoyami shuffles on his feet. “Would you... like to go?”

Of course Izuku would like to go; he’s never really had a chance to go out and hang with friends. Never really had friends aside from Kacchan. But, his nerves are shot from Hawks suddenly calling him in only to not be there. His nerves have been shot and now eagerly waiting for something to grab on. To make him overthink. Hanging out with a friend would be perfect. Hanging out with a friend when he’s meant to be showing of his work? Even more so. What if he comes across as conceited? Egotistical? What if Tokoyami hates him after hanging out? What if Tokoyami wants nothing to with him? What if-

“Yes,” he squeaks out, desperate for friendship even though he’s sure Tokoyami will want to stop hanging out after this but... “I’d love to go.”

He has to try.

Their journey had first lead them outside Hawks’ office. They had looked up at the large building. Izuku rubbed at the back of his neck; awkward.

“I was the one who spray painted Endeavour onto the building,” he admits. There’s nothing left of it. Hawks hired nothing but the best; the man had insisted he had that at least.

“Why did you?” Tokoyami’s staring at him weirdly. “I heard there was a massive uproar over it.”

“Until Hawks cleared it up and... I guess officially hired me,” Hawks does officially give him a paycheque for his work and pays for all the equipment; it’s more than Izuku deserves. “But, it technically was what Hawks asked for. He asked for me to spray paint Endeavour.”

“He asked for you to spray paint Endeavour? Surely he... would have asked for-” himself. That’s what one would expect, or his favourite Hero. Endeavour was rarely someone’s favourite Hero.

“He told me to think of the future. Of the Heroes that have to fill in the space since All Might has left,” he hadn’t been doing that too well if he’s honest. He... he thinks the only Hero he’s spray painted that wasn’t out of action was this Endeavour and that... that had been erased. Taken down. Almost as though he’d never done what Hawks had asked. Why hadn’t he done what Hawks had asked? It was why he took Izuku on right? Why hadn’t he complied? Why hadn’t Hawks said anything... is that why Hawks had wanted to see him? To complain?

“It is admirable to think of other Heroes,” Tokoyami allows. “I wouldn’t have thought he’d allow it to be painted on his own building, but it does leave an impression.”

It did and that’s probably why Izuku had done it. Was there a more competent (confident) way of saying he was up for the task? Was there another way he could wow his audience? Clearly Izuku hadn’t thought there was. Clearly it had impressed Hawks enough to let the damages go. Though, he couldn’t let anyone know Hawks hadn’t (technically) agreed to where it was painted. For legal reasons. There had been so much paperwork signed after he agreed to work for Hawks. So many NDAs.

“It does,” Izuku agrees. “Shall we go to the next one?”

“Where is it?” Tokoyami questions.

“Hosu.”

Hosu had been the scene of a lot of tourism as of late. Stain had been there, a villain with a fan base. The League had been there, a group of villains gaining popularity. Izuku had been there, a street artist that had taken the nation by storm. Hosu was crowded.

Tokoyami, wearing his school uniform because legally he wasn’t allowed to go out in his Hero costume without a teacher or mentor present, was hiding his very obviously UA issued blazer under Izuku’s hoodie. The hoodie was a light green, paint splattered across the sleeve; it did not vibe well with the rest of Tokoyami’s clothes. But he had to wear it; UA students could get swarmed in the streets nowadays, what with all the drama.

“I have to say; this is odd,” Tokoyami laments as they approach the street connected to the alleyway Izuku painted.

“What is?” Izuku questions, completely off guard over the change of topic.

“You’ve spray painted more than one event students from my class have been involved in,” Tokoyami looks around. “A student of my class was almost killed here.”

“Wha-?! I’m sorry- almost killed? Is this making you uncomfortable? Should we head back? What other place did I spray paint? Should we avoid that one too? Are your classmates alright?” Izuku doesn’t really understand the gargled mess of words that come from his mouth. His questions just leaving his lips without thought- oh God! He probably said something insulting. He probably said something-

“My classmate was the one mentioned to have been stabbed by Stain in the event of his capture,” Tokoyami continues to look around, but doesn’t appear to be distressed. “As for the other place, it was the Sir Nighteye piece. I was the only one in my class who was interning who wasn’t there. It’s a strange fate having you paint near the events they’ve been dragged into, but I do not find this uncomfortable at all. It may be destiny’s strings pulling us together.”

“That... that’s a nice idea?” It comes as more of a question. The whole destined to meet thing sounds encouraging, the reason behind it... less so.

“A gruesome fate between us, but a welcome one,” Izuku takes that to mean Tokoyami’s glad they’re friends... maybe?

“Well,” Izuku’s voice squeaks a little against his will as he gestures to the alleyway he worked on all that time ago.

Both walls are covered, in colour. Neither wall has been added to (a surprise, people loved to draw over or add to graffiti; Izuku himself was guilty of this) and they’re exactly how Izuku left them. Which is why Izuku can’t explain the sense of dread he suddenly feels. He was proud of them and yet-

Were they alright? Could he do better? Were they what Hawks had wanted of him? Surely Hawks would have mentioned it if they weren’t to his liking? Hawks had approved of them... right? What about Tokoyami? Would he enjoy them? They had to travel so far to see them, were they worth it? Why had Izuku agreed to go today? He knew how far they’d have to travel for his work and it wouldn’t even be worth it! They should just turn back and-

Of course it was impossible to turn back. Their feet had already dragged them to the alleyway; already revealed all of Izuku’s soul. His work. There was no turning back and even if there was... Izuku couldn’t actually turn his back on his work. He had spent hours on this, this was the first piece Hawks had approved and... it was meaningful. He couldn’t turn his back on it.

Didn’t mean it wasn’t nerve wrecking.

“Truly our lives are connected by fate,” Tokoyami says as he observes the pieces. It... brings Izuku up short because... what?

“What?” He questions, barely suppressing nervous laughter.

“Ingenium,” Tokoyami says, he spins a full 360 degrees to take in the whole alleyway. Others are in the alley with them, so he doesn’t move from his spot. “Is the brother of the student who almost died here.”

“Oh, I, uh...” Izuku stutters. “Is he ok?”

“Ingenium? He was paralysed. His brother, well he almost lost his arm and leg, but with Recovery Girl’s help he’s mostly recovered. Still going through therapy though,” Tokoyami explains, his voice solemn (though Izuku realises he rarely hears Tokoyami’s voice in a tone that isn’t solemn). “He’s still aiming to be a Hero. It’s just going to take him longer to recover and catch up. A frustrating situation.”

“Is... is it frustrating for you?” Izuku asks carefully. Why was it so difficult to word questions?

“Me?” Tokoyami asks. Surprised.

“Well, I... I imagine it must be frustrating to see your classmate in pain. To have suffered at the hands of a villain,” Izuku did his best to explain.

“I see... it is, I guess you could say, frustrating. Not nearly as much as it is for him mind you, but...” Tokoyami hesitates. “I have not been involved in any of the rescue attempts, any of the life and death situations... in fact my Quirk makes me more than likely to be a part of the life or death situation... it is frustrating to not be able to help, even if I know that not helping until I’m fully trained is the wisest option. I... I wish I could have been around more; like-”

He abruptly cuts off. Frustrated.

Izuku stares a few moments. Questions, wondering, before- “like?”

“Like...” the word leaves Tokoyami in a long exhale as though unsure if he should commit. He commits. “I’m an intern now. I should legally be able to get involved now, yet I’m still never in the right place at the right time. When we saw the damage done near Sir Nighteye’s mural all I could think of were my friends. We’re in the same position and yet I was the only intern not there; I get that it wasn’t a mission Hawks was involved in, I get that I’m involved in missions they aren’t, yet. Yet.”

Yet he yearns to help. To step forward, to rush forward, and save the day. To be able to keep his friends safe. It’s a feeling Izuku can relate to. A feeling he had all but forgotten.

Kacchan.

When he had heard about the slime incident (Izuku’s fault). When he had heard about the kidnapping (thankfully not Izuku’s fault, but still bad). He had wanted to help. Had wanted to keep Kacchan safe. Had wanted to be a Hero. Izuku couldn’t though. He was Quirkless. He couldn’t be a Hero. Tokoyami though...

“You’ll get there,” Izuku says, keeping his eyes on his work. Not able to look at Tokoyami. “You’re just starting, you haven’t got it all figured out. But, you’ll get there, you’ll figure it out and you won’t get left behind.”

It might be an unrealistic way of looking at Heroes, completely selfish to expect a Hero to save everyone and everything, but... Izuku believes in them. He believes in every single Hero. Take Ingenium for example. He had been searching for the Hero killer when he had found him, had wanted to keep other Heroes safe from the villain. It might not have gone to plan, it might not have worked out how everyone would have wanted, but Ingenium had prevented a different Hero from being killed. The Hero had gone on record to announce he was glad it was him; not someone else. Even a perceived failure could be a success.

“You... are quite good at being motivational,” Tokoyami states. Says it as though it’s a fact that the world just has to accept.

“Ah, no, it’s not like that-” Izuku’s quick to dismiss. Feels his whole body jerk with the need to deny.

“You are. I think you’d have made a great Hero,” Tokoyami says, simply, as though Izuku hadn’t been waiting his whole life to hear those words. “Shall we go to your next work?”

“Ah... I... yes?” Izuku manages, leading them back to the train station. The Ingenium piece left behind them with crowds of people.

Izuku’s never had this many people believe in him.

The third, and last, piece Izuku goes to show is the one near his house. It’s in an underpass and it’s the piece Hawks had caught him spray painting all those months ago. A few days after All Might’s retirement.

All around them All Might stares at them. The area is grubby, people have already started doodling over it (of course they have, there’s no CTTV cameras down here to keep watch over crime) but All Might’s images are bright against the walls, floor and ceiling. It’s surprising that no one got rid of it all. Izuku had illegally painted it.

“This is impressive,” Tokoyami sounds breathless, genuinely taken aback. Izuku can just stare at his work.

“I mean... there’s things I’d change if I could...” not that he can. He’s not meant to bring up his spray painting before Hawks met him, which meant he wasn’t even going to mention his first public piece. That piece... has a lot of legalities behind it thanks to Hawks.

“Like what?” Tokoyami asks, his voice held in disbelief.

“Like... this,” he moves to stand directly beneath the roof piece, All Might’s face stares down, he gestures to it. “The smile doesn’t capture All Might’s ideals. The lines are a little wobbly, because I was still figuring out how to work in hard to reach places and-”

“I think you’re being needlessly hard on yourself; the image is amazing,” Tokoyami stares, amazed. Izuku stares, all he sees are blemishes.

“I...” How does he word this? “I think, our different views and skills of the world are at odds here. Like... I’ve improved art wise, so I don’t think this is good anymore, but you’ve never spray painted before, right? So you think this is a good piece.”

That was said politely right? He doesn’t want to imply Tokoyami’s not talented or that he doesn’t understand art, but they have different views on what’s considered good. He probably didn’t convey himself well. Tokoyami had said it better before!

“So… because you’ve improved you want to erase your progress?” Tokoyami inquires.

“I... I mean I’d rather the progress was more private, so I could look back on it and be amazed on how far I’ve come by myself. But, this... this is out there for the whole world to criticise even if I’ve improved since then...” Izuku stares at the piece. It’s not that he hates it. He knew when he made the piece that he had already improved so far. It was an achievement at the time of making. It was also All Might’s face; he could never be disappointed with All Might.

“Is that why you don’t think you’d have been a good Hero?” Tokoyami asks.

“Huh?” Izuku’s voice cracks high, startled. He thought the random comment earlier had been empty praise; Tokoyami hadn’t elaborated after he said it after all.

“You seem so sure of your failure. I thought maybe it was because you expect perfection. Heroes do portray only their strengths after all,” Tokoyami reasons.

“Wha- no! I know Heroes work hard to become the Heroes we know and love. I know they don’t start off amazing, I know they make mistakes. I mean, this piece just shows I’m constantly improving and didn’t start amazing, I get that,” Izuku explains in a rush. “I... I just couldn’t be a Hero because I’m Quirkless. It would be too much of a disadvantage; everyone would treat it as a disability.”

“There are Heroes with disabilities,” Tokoyami points out, reasonably.

“I know. Ectoplasm, is the poster boy for that,” and Ectoplasm was so strong for it. Losing your legs in a villain fight but then continuing to fight back? Role model. “But they still have skills and abilities that I don’t.”

“There are Heroes that fight hand to hand,” Tokoyami argues. “Surely you could have trained in martial arts?”

“Even Heroes that fight hand to hand have an advantage. Take... Eraser Head for example. He has to fight hand to hand, but with his Quirk he can erase his enemies Quirk and even the playing field. I wouldn’t have that advantage,” Izuku shrugs. “I’d just get in the way.”

“But-”

“You’re a great friend Tokoyami,” Izuku smiles. It’s a sweet smile. “I’m not sure if I would have wanted a friend like you back then, someone to encourage me to keep trying with my dream...”

He trails off. Stares at All Might’s unrelenting stare. All Might had been right; Izuku wouldn’t have been able to be a Hero. Izuku would’ve gotten in the way. It was his fault Kacchan had almost died that day after all. All Might was right (when wasn’t he?) and Izuku. Izuku was fine with that.

“I don’t regret this path,” the words are said surely. As sure as the three year old toddle who claimed he’d be a Hero was. “I’m glad I’m a graffiti artist, future Hero costume designer. I don’t even regret this.”

He gestures up towards the ceiling. Tokoyami would be forced to believe he was talking about his subpar work in the past. That wasn’t what he was referring to. He was referring to this illegal work. He broke the law, it should be his greatest regret, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t regret it. It allowed him to meet Hawks. It allowed him so many opportunities. How lucky this under path was. He has met two Heroes from the top ten in this under path.

“I’m happy with the path I’m walking,” he grins at Tokoyami. “We wouldn’t have met if I hadn’t have gone down this path after all, right? I’ve had so many opportunities and the dream of being a Hero has long since passed.”

The words... are surprisingly true. Izuku doesn’t feel regret anymore. He’s happy where he is. Happy with what he’s doing.

“I see… I still think you’d have made a good Hero,” Tokoyami reiterates, surprisingly stubborn.

“Alright,” Izuku humoured him. Not for a second believing his words.

They had parted not long after. Tokoyami a few stations away to get to the dorms at UA. Izuku back to his home a few blocks away. Both with a new number in their phones.

Making friends was new.

What wasn’t new was sitting in front of the TV working; like he should be. Being distracted over making friends... it should probably be more embarrassing than it was but... Izuku isn’t. He’s pretty glad with how that day had went, even if he still had no idea what Hawks had wanted. The Hero had been incredibly busy and it makes sense. He had just climbed to the number two position on the Pro Hero charts. Izuku imagines it gets busy around this time. So, that left Izuku in front of the TV with a sketchbook in front of him; coursework long forgotten to the joys of the Hero community.

He took inspiration from his conversation with Tokoyami this time. Designs of Rescue Girl, Eraser Head and Ectoplasm dashed across the pages.

Ectoplasm was the easiest to design for. The Hero’s design had such a strong impact; his colour theme being dark (almost ominous), his long coat easy to incorporate to a design and his wide smile a trademark anyone would recognise. Such a cool design to work with, with an even cooler Quirk. Ectoplasm’s Quirk was being able to split into numerous forms and there were rumours he could have all the copies form together to create a larger, towering Ectoplasm. The ideas were flowing easily when he thought on Ectoplasm. His hand racing through page after page.

Eraser Head was... tricky. To say the least. The Hero wasn’t known to like the spotlight; was known to avoid it. It made sense, he was an underground Hero. Underground Heroes were known to do undercover work a lot of the time and knowing what they looked like could put their life at risk. Of course Eraser Head wasn’t really known to do the whole undercover part of the underground Hero job, he just disliked the media. All Izuku has to go on was a pair of yellow googles. A fine pair of yellow googles, but... it didn’t really hold the artistic flare Izuku was going for. He’d just... leave that for now.

Rescue Girl’s image was just... dreadful. It wasn’t Rescue Girl’s fault; she was an amazing Hero able to help heal anything and her costume really went for that aesthetic. Izuku just... didn’t have any practice drawing older ladies. He goes to add the deep lines of age on Rescue Girls face and... It just looked like a scar. He goes to draw her slight hunched form over her syringe walking stick and... It looks like he’s attempting to draw a goblin cosplaying as Rescue Girl. He needs practice if he’s going to even attempt to spray paint Rescue Girl, and he’s going to attempt it. Rescue Girl was known as the Hero that had brought the most people back from the brink of death. She was amazing. She deserves to be immortalised in art... or as immortalised as graffiti can be.

He... doesn’t know where he’s going to paint any of these pieces. Doesn’t know exactly what he wants to do with these pieces, but. But. He’s sure he’s going to make them and make them grand. Hawks had trusted in him to show off the Heroes still around, so he’s going to show of the best of the best!

It’s then, as if summoned by his thoughts that the screen cuts to an emergency. Once again.

Maybe he should think about where he gets his work done next time.

“The newly promoted first and second Heroes are currently fighting a Nomu downtown,” downtown could mean anywhere, but the Hero placement is what gets him to look away from his work (not that placement has ever really mattered to Izuku; all Heroes are amazing, just the new number two is Hawks! And Hawks is just... inspirational! Izuku owes him so much). “The Nomu seems enhanced and has already destroyed a lot of the city.”

The camera focuses in on the ground. It’s not the All Might vs All for One damaged, but it’s a near thing. Buildings have toppled, roads have been upended and there are plenty of civilians running around; a potential hazard to all involved. Endeavour is using his fire to keep himself high in the sky, keeping his flames focused on a strange looking creature. Hawks zips to and fro saving civilians and taking out the smaller, seemingly mindless, creatures. Not that the other Nomu is probably any better; supposedly every Nomu to appear has been mindless. Just obeying orders.

Izuku surveys the scene. He’s... he’s not sure what’s worse to look at. The terror of innocent people running for their lives, Endeavour (the new number one Hero) barely keeping his flames hot enough to damage the Nomu or watching Hawks pushed to his limit. Every single feather converging on a different enemy or ally. Then the Nomu, completely submerged in flames, lifts his head up high and Izuku knows what the worst thing he’s seeing is truly.

The creature’s head is small, when compared to his body, and is almost completely a brain. Just a gloopy looking brain with eyes and a mouth. The concept is already horrid enough, but then. Then the creature, still very much submerged in the flames that are slowly burning his skin, laughs. The sound is hardly picked up by the cameras mics, but the way the creature’s body and lips moves it’s obvious. The creature is laughing. The creature is speaking. The creature has... thought? It’s terrifying to think that the being is still conscious after all it’s probably been through, it’s terrifying to think something so strong can potentially learn and scheme; it’s terrifying to think it’s fighting Hawks. What if it-

Hawks will be fine! He has to be! Izuku believes in him. He trusts him! Hawks will be fine!

The creature knocks Endeavour out of his position in the sky. The number one Hero lands on a nearby building. It wasn’t... wasn’t a graceful landing. Can they-

“The number tw- one Hero has been knocked down,” the reporter says. “Can he get back up? What- What will happen if our Hero doesn’t overcome this villain?”

It’s a sentiment shared with the crowd. People from all walks of life could be heard questioning, doubting. This was their life without the number one Hero in it. Was... was this the life Hawks had been anticipating? Had Izuku not helped with his inability to let go of the past? Had he-

“Stop doubting him!” A man in the crowd yells. “Endeavour’s the greatest Hero ever! He’ll easily destroy this guy!”

“Ye... Yeah!” Another voice calls out. “Endeavour can do it!”

The crowd cheers, supporting the new number one Hero and it’s like watching All Might’s last fight all over again. Everyone desperate. Everyone believing. It’s a sight to see that’s for sure. The feeling washes over Izuku. He clenches his fists together.

“Come on Endeavour,” he mutters.

On screen Hawks lands beside Endeavour. Says something to the older Hero and they’re both looking forward. Determined.

There’s blood trailing down Endeavour’s face and that’s all Izuku can focus on for a moment. Endeavour had never sustained such an injury before, he was known to carefully choose and tackle the assignments he knew he’d be able to deal with. He never fought a fight he couldn’t win. The blood trailed long down his face, he didn’t move to wipe it away.

The next thing Izuku took note of was the way Endeavour shot forward, moving higher and higher than he ever did. Red feathers burning in a trail behind him. Red feathers drifting off of Hawks back; ceasing to exist.

High above the city Endeavour flew. High above the city the Nomu chased. High above the city an explosive light erupted. Burning everything. Burning the image into everyone’s retinas. Forever marking this as the beginning of Endeavour’s reign as number one. A hard place to exist, large shoes to fill, but... in this one moment it didn’t seem... impossible.

Endeavour falls hard to the ground, but manages to catch himself. Has Hawks helping him up. Poses, a pose so similar to All Might’s (but not quite) that Izuku can’t help but be emotional. The new number one... maybe Hawks was right about Endeavour. Maybe they should have been singing him praises all this time-

But.

A twist, as they were likely to happen nowadays, appears instantly. A man of burnt flesh, dark hair and... what looks like staples across his body just... appears out of nowhere. His words are picked up through the TV with no interference. He wants Endeavour dead, by his own hands, and was the one who let the Nomu go wild. The League were at fault. Once again.

Izuku notes how Hawks is tense, his hand clutching at one of his feathers, ready to fight. Izuku notes how Endeavour can barely keep his eyes open after everything he’s been through. Izuku notes how the villain’s grin is manic. Terrifying.

The showdown is halted by Miriko’s dynamic entry. The already destroyed floor is further crumbled by her kick and the villain flees in a weird haze of goop. The new number one Hero injured and down, the new number two Hero temporary out of Quirk usage; a city destroyed. But, victorious. A victory that’s already being questioned (if All Might was here he would have saved us instantly). A victory that puts Izuku at awe. This. This is what Hawks was talking about!

Taking these great achievements, these impossible achievements that the Hero community accomplish and blast them for all to see. Showing that there’s hope no matter how dark things get. Showing that the Hero community care, so the rest of the world should as well. Izuku cares and Izuku has a medium to show that he cares. He starts planning.

He turns the page of his book. He covers the page in a large image, the red wings from Hawks and the flames from Endeavour slipping onto the next page. It doesn’t matter. It looks artistic.

He turns the page of his book. He covers the next two pages in detailed images of Hawks. He meets the Pro Hero often, often enough to notice things that only dedicated fans would recognise. The way his arrow tipped eyebrows arch slightly uneven as if he hasn’t had them pruned. How his wings consist of three different sized feathers, large feathers to attack, medium feathers to fly and save people and small baby feathers just growing in from all the ones he loses through his work. There’s so many details. Not enough to be concealed on two pages.

He turns the page of his book. Hawks’ eyes have a golden hue to them that appears greyer beneath his large bulking goggles. His eyes appear angular, all odds and ends that seem even more at odds with themselves when one takes in the deep lines around his eyes. There’s his ears that usually hide his piercings and his beard that’s evenly cut in increments across his jaw. Yet there’s even more to draw!

He turns the page of his book. A page practising Hawks’ expressions; the Hero is so expressive. Communicating his every thought into a very visual expression so the people he’s saving know exactly what he’s thinking. So they know what he’s feeling and doing and Endeavour is not nearly as expressive. Somewhere along the line these pages images of Hawks turn into Endeavour. The Hero is a sturdy pillar to society; not straying from the path before him where others would flee. His expressions range from serious to angry and back again. Expressions aren’t his forte, on the other hand his-

He turns the page of his book. Body language speaks where his expressions fail. A tight clenched fist connected to a rigid body; determination covering fear. His shoulders hunched close to his eyes; an embarrassment he refuses to acknowledge. His feet shoulder width apart; confident. The fire helps enhance his moods. Passionate and constantly burning. You could compare Endeavour to a candle burning bright at both ends, yet he doesn’t seem to ever tire. To ever run out of wick. He’s expressive and explosive and exactly what the Hero industry needs right now.

He turns another page of his book. Endeavour may be a leading example, but not on his own, he needs Hawks at his back. The Hero industry... can’t function alone anymore. They need groups to work together. They need to help each other. Like Rescue Girl can heal the wounds of the fallen Heroes, Heroes needed to help other Heroes before they fall. The villains work together so why shouldn’t the Heroes?

Izuku turns one final page. An idea formed in his head. An idea he thinks Hawks will enjoy...

Now how does he get permission? To paint it without Hawks around to help?

Chapter Text

“Everything I do is for the League, Dabi.”

“We’ll see.”

Hawks had blown it. Completely and utterly blown it. His plan of using Endeavour to destroy the Nomu had been going well. He had explained the situation (you know without mentioning his connection with the League) to Endeavour and he had Endeavour on his side. Then Dabi had sent the Nomu through the building at them. At the building in the middle of a busy city. Sure, Dabi could argue Hawks had been aiming high on the Hero chart for someone to fight the Nomu, but Dabi had endangered thousands. Endangered thousands after agreeing it was a dreadful idea. He clearly didn’t have a good read on Dabi if he was willing to go against what he said was a good idea himself. More pressing was he apparently was being followed.

Of course Dabi could have followed his social media to figure out what he was up to, but Hawks didn’t think there was enough information provided to clue Dabi into what he was doing constantly. Whatever it was though that set Dabi off, Hawks hadn’t sensed it until it was too late. He’s just glad Endeavour was able to do something about it all. Hawks wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he had been the cause of so many deaths.

No one had died, thank god, well other than the Nomu.

Hawks was not doing great. He was not. The only plus in this situation was Dabi was still wavering on whether to drop him or not. Dabi knew Hawks could be useful, knew he was potentially the golden egg. But, now Hawks had lost his first chance. He’d have to wait and... Who knows what Dabi will request from him next? Maybe he’d want a dead Hero. Wouldn’t that be just great?

He’d laugh, but well. He already feels his fleeting sanity running away from his reaching fingers.

He sighs.

Dabi was- the League was... a bust for now. He’d have to bide his time. Wait. Right now he had other problems.

Endeavour.

The man was hospitalised. No kidding, the Hero had taken a beating without a care. Would have lost his eye without Recovery Girl’s Quirk. Hell, Hawks himself would be without half his feathers without Recovery Girl’s help, just... he knew why she shouldn’t have wasted the Quirk on him. He had set Endeavour up for almost failure without realising... he couldn’t let the Hero get hurt like that again... he couldn’t. He had to get rid of the League soon. He had to. If he didn’t. If he didn’t...

There were more super powered Nomus. The number one and two could barely deal. Rumours on the Hero networks led Hawks to believe they had bigger, stronger allies amongst the League now. They were a threat. A threat that would destroy everything. A threat that had hurt Endeavour.

Endeavour.

He’s off topic again. The Hero was in hospital. Was supposed to be released after a few days of being stuck in a private ward and... Hawks couldn’t resist. He had to check on the Hero. He had to see if he was alright and... He had an excuse. An excuse he wouldn’t even have to use, Endeavour would make all the assumptions. Assume he’s there, because he was concerned; Hawks was the one who brought him in on the case after all. Of course the excuse is... a little more true than Hawks would like. Of course there’s the deceit with the fact that Hawks hadn’t mentioned the double crossing, but that was unimportant. Totally unimportant.

If he didn’t double cross, the League would be left to do whatever they wanted. There wouldn’t be a Hero society if they were left to their own devices. There wouldn’t be a society! The League would-

Enough about the League!

Endeavour!

A calming breath and he enters the hospital.

The hospital is exactly what you expect. White walls, chemically clean smells; hand wash saturating from the walls. Endeavour’s already signing himself out from the place.

Hawks walks over and can’t help but notice how Endeavour’s alone. It’s... strange. Hawks knows Endeavour has a family; a wife and four children (though sadly an accident a few years ago took one of the children). Yet here he is. Alone. Well it makes sense, Endeavour’s never been one to happily accept ‘charity’. Hawks gears himself up to be dismissed.

“Endeavour!” He calls loudly, announcing his presence to the entire world. “Got everything sorted out?”

“Hawks,” Endeavour grunts and... Is that a bit of concern there? A little human emotion hidden amongst all the bluster. Hawks is flattered. Truly! There’s nothing more he enjoys than having his favourite hero, His favourite people in general, enjoy his company and work, but-

That scar that covers Endeavour’s eye. That scar that cuts through Endeavour’s moustache and beard; forever ruining Endeavour’s flaming facial hair. That’s all on Hawks. He led Endeavour there. He lead Endeavour to his almost death. The two of them barely successful even with their titles of number 1 and 2. The two of them only semi prepared.

“-you alright?” Endeavour turns from him for a second, finishes signing his papers and turns back to him. Hawks had got caught in his mind. Missed the words his favourite had to say. What should he say?

“Yeah... all good,” he tries attentively. Would Endeavour ask how he was? Before, years before, Endeavour would never. His eyes locked forward at All Might’s back, but now Endeavour is uncertain. Trying to find his footing as the number one Hero. Trying to find his footing without All Might around.

Hawks thinks he’s doing a great job.

“Good,” Endeavour says, though he hesitates (probably not trusting Hawks, which is a great idea. Why should he trust him?). “You leaving today as well?”

“Ah, no, I was only in overnight,” Hawks hands fling in all directions as he speaks; a nervous tick he can’t quite get rid of. “I came to check up on you.”

“Wasted time,” Endeavour snorts, turning towards the doors Hawks had just entered through and leaves. Hawks keeps pace a few steps behind him. “I’m obviously fine.”

“I mean it’s not exactly obvious,” Hawks disagrees with, gesturing towards his eye. “The whole eye thing for one. I’m sorry.”

“Why would you apologise?” Endeavour keeps going forward; never looking back. “It’s not like the League are predictable.”

They’re not. Really. Though, that’s more to do with their boss than the group as a whole. Of course the odd member is unpredictable; that’s how Dabi surprised Hawks with the Nomu. Though, it shouldn’t have been a surprise at all. Hawks had known of the attack, was setting up for the attack. It could have been predicted.

“The eye is fine,” Endeavour says, probably misunderstanding why exactly Hawks was being so quiet. It was always surprising how high up the Hero charts this man got; social skills escaped him.

“That’s good. The old lady from UA doing some good?” Hawks questions.

Endeavour snorts (it’s a sound he keeps making; he really wasn’t so good at the whole range of emotions thing). “I wouldn’t let her hear you say that. Her lectures are famous and terrible.”

“Oh,” that was interesting. “Were you a bad student? Sounds like you were being told off on more than one occasion.”

“Of course I wasn’t!” Endeavour snaps. “I said they were famous, clearly that would imply that I had heard of them; not that I received them.”

“You also said they were terrible,” Hawks teases. “That means you have an opinion on them. Meaning you had to have experienced them. On multiple occasions.”

Endeavour huffs, but doesn’t fight it. Hawks can’t help but grin, it almost falls off when he notices Endeavour’s shoulders loosen up. Was he acting that unusual that he didn’t know how to interact with people anymore? Was Endeavour that awkward with his apology?

He decides to keep the cheer up, to continue to tease Endeavour; if only to let Endeavour relax. The Hero deserves to relax after the weeks he’s gone through (first becoming the number one, now the scars). Hawks has never struggled to fake a smile, he definitely doesn’t have a problem faking for his favourite Hero. He fakes it, until he can’t.

It happens like this. His smile is plastered on; neither too caring nor too sarcastic, just a casual little smirk. It makes it look like he’s enjoying himself, but not enjoying himself too much. Then his eyes widen. His trademark goggles sit high on his head, not obscuring his eyes from all who look towards him. If you looked, his eyes have never been photographed so large. The shock wears off after a moment and once he’s collected his jaw from the ground his lips pull up into a never ending grin. It’s bright and powerful and Hawks has never been so happy in his life.

It happens like this. Endeavour and Hawks are walking down the street, heading from the hospital to the train station so Endeavour can get home. The walk isn’t too far, but it’s long enough for Hawks to tease and joke; to make Endeavour chill. Some mindless taunts. Then Hawks eyes catch the sight of something, everyone who passes it catches this sight. His eyes widen, he draws to a stop and he can’t stop staring. This. This is amazing.

This being the street art spanning across one of the walls opposite the train station. It stretches far across the wall’s surface and the colours are so vibrant that it’s almost blinding. It’s a breath-taking sight to be welcomed to as you leave the train station.

“More graffiti?” Endeavour huffs, clearly not one for the finer arts. “This stuff keeps illegally popping up lately.”

“Not illegal,” Hawks says, a little numb. He knows this style.

“What?” Endeavour questions, probably raising a brow, but Hawks eyes are focused away. Darting over the whole expanse of the wall.

“This wasn’t done illegally. I know the artist,” he knows this style, just...

“I heard rumours you were commissioning a street artist,” Endeavour rumbles. “Didn’t know you’d get something like this made.”

“I had no idea,” he finally tears his eyes away to grin at Endeavour. “This is a surprise.”

And what a surprise. The image contains both Hawks and Endeavour. Endeavour stands in the foreground. His flames an immovable force, glaring at all around yet... there appears to be a caring light edging its way in Endeavour’s eyes... maybe that’s just the lighting from his flames. Hawks flies behind Endeavour, his back to the other Hero, but his head is looking over his shoulder to shoot the viewer a cocky smirk. He’s casually flying while cocking the peace sign, while Endeavour is stoic with his beefy arms folded together; not unlike Izuku’s original Endeavour piece. Unlike the original this piece seems to be filled with charm, so much charm and character that Hawks wonders how he ever enjoyed the original piece. Maybe it’s the added Hawks in the image, not that Hawks is trying to big himself up, that adds the life to Endeavour’s immovable self. Around the Endeavour and Hawks in the image flames and feathers dance; sometimes a feather catching alight. The reds and yellows so bright; Hawks is surprised he doesn’t need some sunglasses to avoid going blind.

“So… you’re going to take a picture with it?” Endeavour awkwardly asks and Hawks reels back; staring.

“Huh?”

“Taking your picture,” Endeavour says it slowly as though he’s talking to someone hard of hearing. “I hear that’s what you do with all this art?”

“Uh, no... Not yet,” he stares a little longer at the piece. “I... have an idea for the picture.” And he does. And it involves him needing one more participant. “Shall we move on?” He asks, gesturing to the train station’s entrance.

He keeps his cool together as he says his goodbyes to Endeavour. Let’s the guilt hit him one last time as Endeavour offers to help him with the League again; as Endeavour worries over him. But, the guilt doesn’t last long. Not when he turns around and the wall behind him is covered in art. Such inspirational art. There’s already people swarming in and he wonders how long the piece has been up there. Surely not long. This is Hawks’ usual patrolling area; he’d have noticed if something like this was up before today... maybe yesterday?

Doesn’t matter when it was painted, all that matters is it was painted. And he needs one other person before he can take the picture he wants to take. He takes to the sky with a grin.

——

Izuku had been nervous all day. Refreshing his social media and certain pages he has purposefully put up all day. He’s waiting for a certain message to pop up and... It hasn’t yet.

“Izuku,” his mother calls. “Can you take the rubbish out?”

“One second,” he mutters, pressing F5 on Hawks’ social media pages. Nothing there. Yet. He guesses Hawks still hasn’t seen it yet. He’s a busy Hero after all. The number two Hero now!

“Izuku,” his mother sighs and Izuku can feel her eyes staring at his back fondly. He presses F5 on a forum about street art and there’s a few more comments about this work in particular.

‘Right. I’m late to the party, is this the same artist that Hawks has been known to commission?’

‘Maybe? The art style is very similar, but Hawks hasn’t taken a picture with it yet. All the other pictures Hawks has been the first or nearly the first to take a picture with it.’

‘Crazy theory time: street artist gone rogue. Lured Hawks into a false sense of security then killed him. That red isn’t paint it’s blood!’

‘Yeah. Maybe put more emphasis on the ‘crazy’ next time.’

‘OMG! So a friend of mine said they saw Hawks at the street art with Endeavour!’

‘Wait. Are they going to imitate the art? That would be so cool!’

‘A photo should be up soon then right?’

‘My friend said this was like an hour ago? Half an hour ago?’

‘Picture should already be up then. My ‘crazy theory’ might not be so crazy after all.’

‘Hawks is still clearly alive and no blood was used if he was seen at the street art.’

‘The theory is a work in progress. Somethings can be wrong!’

“You know just staring at the page all day isn’t going to change the content,” his mother says behind him, her voice is caring. Soft. Supportive. Reassuring. Everything he’s ever loved hearing in her voice. “You have to keep living while waiting for the news.”

“I know,” he looks around back at her. “I just... What if I miss it? Five more minutes?”

“Five more minutes, but then you’re helping me with chores,” his mother says ‘sternly’. “The world will be still here after you’ve finished everything else.”

“Thanks Mum,” he makes sure to put all his gratitude into his words. He needs his mother to know just how grateful he is.

She smiles. Shakes her head. Amused. “Five minutes.” And she’s gone.

He turns back to his computer, clicks open the tab with Hawks’ social media and. F5. Nothing new. Hawks hasn’t been on for hours. Is he really that busy?

Yes. Yes he is. Izuku had watched that fight, re-watched it multiple times as he worked in a frenzy to get his piece done in time. Hawks’ main base of operations has been decimated. News reports claimed crime had increased in the area with the place damaged so much and Hawks still hadn’t fully recovered. He and his sidekicks must be working overtime. Working so hard to keep everyone safe and alive and. Izuku can wait.

Izuku isn’t important in the long run. He enjoys what he does and he enjoys working for Hawks. He would like to know Hawks’ opinion (F5. Nothing.) but it’s not vital. He can wait. He has to wait. It’s not like Hawks is just going to stop his busy work and come here. But, Izuku can’t wait until he does see Hawks again in person. He’s going to tell Hawks exactly how he got everything together to work. He hopes Hawks cares, because he’s... pretty excited to share everything about this piece.

Wants to explain how he had researched and contacted the same company Hawks did to get a forklift. How Izuku had to fill in all kinds of forms and go through some tests to prove he could be trusted with one; his age completely against him on that part.

Wants to explain how he had gone scouting for locations himself and how it was a little hard to convince the people he was talking to, to let him use their space without Hawks’ backing, but how he had managed it. How he had remained professional, motivated and shown his sketchbook off like a resume. And his sketchbook!

He can’t wait to show his sketchbook. He had so many drawings and potential ideas in there- only... It might be a little embarrassing. He’s never had a person view their own image in his sketchbooks before. Maybe he should keep it to himself? No. Plenty of Heroes have seen the art he’s done of them already. Plenty of Heroes will see the art he’ll do for them. He has to get used to it and... Hawks will probably enjoy seeing the art work. He expects they’ll be the odd joke thrown in about his art, but... Hawks will enjoy. Probably enjoy all the Endeavour pictures if his insistence that he paint Endeavour is anything to go by.

There’s a knock at the door and Izuku goes to stand up and get it (it has gone five minutes after all), when his mother reassured him that she’s got it. He takes this as an extra second to check if there’s any updates. F5. Nothing.

“Izuku!” His mother calls.

“The rubbish right?” Izuku calls back, standing up and leaving his room. “Let me just go g- Hawks?!”

Standing at his door with a lazy two finger salute is Hawks. He looks endlessly amused.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever called me rubbish before,” he teases.

“I didn’t- that’s not what I meant. I mean-” Izuku can’t help but splutter. What was he meant to say? He wasn’t referring to him? He hadn’t meant to offend? He wasn’t-

“Just joking,” Hawks says, brushing Izuku’s words away with a quick little gesture. “I’m actually here for you.”

“Me?” Izuku squeaks. Had he done something wrong through the spray painting process? No! He did that all right. Then... had Hawks seen his work and hated it? It would be heart-breaking, but... Izuku can’t see why Hawks would come all the way over here for anything else.

“Yes! So your new work,” here it was. Hawks was going to reprimand him or let his hopes down gently. “Is amazing! I told you, you should do more Endeavour pieces. Your style really makes him look great.”

“Uh- thanks?” Izuku mutters, on autopilot. Hawks like his work?

“You’re welcome. I also have to say I’m flattered to be involved in your work,” Hawks grins. Actually now that Izuku’s noticing Hawks hasn’t stopped grinning since he came in. “Did you have a sketchbook full of practice drawings for this piece?”

“Of course. I,” This is really happening. Izuku had wanted it to happen of course, but it was really happening. “I’ll go get it. I wanted to show you since I started drawing it.”

Quickly jumping back into his room to get his sketchbook (and he was really running out of space. He thought his analysis books were a problem before, but the sketchbooks are bulkier and he needs to keep them for potential portfolios in the future. As he’s busy his Mother leads Hawks further into the house, telling Hawks embarrassing stories.

“-Izuku was so worried when he heard you were sent to the hospital, even though he was bragging over how cool-”

“Mum,” Izuku splutters, almost dropping his sketchbook. “Don’t be embarrassing!”

“Bragging about who?” Hawks says, feigning surprise. “Me? Aw, why would you do that?”

“You’re cool,” Izuku’s not shy to admit it. He adores Heroes. He just wishes this wasn’t so embarrassing! “Of course I brag, to my mum, that you’re helping me.”

“Its fine,” Hawks grins, basking in the comfortable feeling being surrounded by the Midoriyas provides. “So, sketchbook?”

“Right. Sketchbook,” Izuku hands it over eagerly, explaining what he was going for. What he was doing.

Just before they get completely enraptured in their discussion Inko Midoriyas asks one question.

“Are you staying for dinner, Hawks?”

Before Hawks gets too engrossed in Izuku’s ideas and art, before he’s giving his own ideas and critics Hawks gives one answer.

“You know, it’s been a while since my last homemade meal, I’d be happy to stay.”

And then they’re busy discussing artwork and Heroes while the delicious smell of cooked food wafts around them. It’s probably been a long time since either of them have been able to babble about something they’re a fan of to someone with similar interests. But, it’s a fun evening, one they should probably have more often and well… they will. Neither plan to stop their agreement anytime soon. There’s a lot more buildings to be spray painted. Spray painted with the current and future generations of Heroes.

——

“Tokoyami!” Mina yells as he strolls through the kitchen seeking coffee as black as his soul. “Tokoyami!”

“Mina,” he greets amiably as he reaches the coffee pot. There’s a ridiculous amount of sugar near it, so he can only imagine Sato was the one who made this pot. He only hopes he hadn’t put sugar in the pot.

“You intern for Hawks, right?” He’s asked and it’s not only Mina taking an interest. A bunch of the girls in his class seem to be staring at him. Had Hawks done something or was this about the number two Hero’s injuries.

“Yes,” taking his mug from the cupboards he pours himself some coffee, hopes for the best, and turns to his apparent audience.

“Do you know who this is?” A phone is shoved in his face and he blinks a few times trying to see the image clearly. The phone shoved way to close to his face.

On screen is Hawks’ social media, the focus is a picture that was added not too long ago. The picture captures a new spray painted picture in the background. The image large and visually stunning of Hawks at Endeavour’s back. An imitation of their team up. Before the picture Hawks hangs off the back of Izuku, both of them grinning at the camera. It’s a good picture and Tokoyami can’t help but make comparisons between the photo and the art work. The art work depicts Hawks helping Endeavour and the photo depicts Hawks helping Izuku. Was it art imitating life, followed by life imitating art? How poetic.

“His name is Izuku Midoriya,” Tokoyami allows. “He works for Hawks to make all those graffiti pieces Hawks poses with.”

“Izuku Midoriya?” Uraraka hums, not even pretending she wasn’t eavesdropping. “Are you friends? You should invite him over! His work is amazing!”

“There’s no way you’re inviting Deku over!” An angry and explosive voice yells. It’s a voice that suits the owner, seeing as the owner is Bakugo.

“Why not? And what do you mean by ‘Deku’?” The way the petite Uraraka flares up at Bakugo is always a sight to see. She’s never been intimidated by the loud student.

“I imagine it’s Bakugo’s nickname for Izuku, Izuku similarly has a cute nickname from Bakugo: ‘Kacchan’,” he notices the gleam in his fellow students eyes and plans to take his coffee upstairs as soon as he finishes throwing Bakugo under the bus. “Bakugo is more likely to be able to invite Izuku over, being childhood friends and all.”

And he leaves to the sounds of arguing. It’s a joyous sound that echoes around him even as he takes his phone out to message Izuku about his latest art piece. He’s sure his newest friend has plenty to say about it, though maybe he should wait to hear about it. Kacchan is sure to invite Deku over any day now after all. If not of his own violation, then by one of Class 1-A’s schemes.