Chapter Text
The new kid catches Keigo just when he’s about to make his exit.
Keigo doesn't know much about him, given that he only arrived a week ago. All he knows is that he's an orphan, like himself, and that he's covered in burn scars. Oh, and that he refuses to use his quirk. Other than that, he's a complete mystery.
He had not intended to have time to contemplate the complexities of the new kid. He had intended to be out of this place before the new kid even knew his name. But of course, like most things in Keigo's life, his escape doesn't go according to plan.
He spent months planning how he would get out. He would wait until his old roommate got released - that guy was a total snitch - and make a break for it in the middle of dinner. The caretakers would be too busy fawning over whoever his replacement was to pay any attention to poor little Keigo, stuck in the same place for the past 10 years. He built up a reputation for being a goodie two shoes, too, so they wouldn't suspect a thing.
His stuff had been packed for weeks under his bed. He had saved up all of his meager allowance in order to buy himself a place of his own, a one bedroom apartment all the way across town. The cash would cover a month of rent, and then Keigo had figured he would start working to keep paying for it. He's fast, he's good at fighting. Maybe he can join a hero agency as an assistant or something. He's 16 years old, damn it. He should be able to find work anywhere.
At the new kid's welcome dinner - which wasn't any fancier than normal dinner, except they had a couple of balloons lying around - Keigo excused himself early, feigning a stomach ache. Then it was a mad dash to his room to get his suitcase and backpack, triple check that he has everything, and make his exit.
It's at this point that he gets interrupted by an uninvited visitor.
"What are you doing?" he hears someone ask, right when he's propping his window open with a crowbar. The voice is scratchy, like the owner just recovered from a cold. This isn't the time to meditate on his voice, Keigo!
"I... uh... You're back from dinner early." He turns around to face the other boy directly. "You're the new kid, right? Takami Keigo, pleasure to meet you!" He sticks out a hand to shake, but the new kid just stares at him. Okay, maybe not the time for introductions.
"You didn't answer my question," he says, almost suspiciously, which might be warranted, but who put him on the planet? Getting all up in business that definitely isn't his to know.
"Isn't it obvious? I'm getting some fresh air," Keigo responds with a roll of his eyes. "Isn't a guy allowed to open a window in this place?"
"You're getting some fresh air with all of your stuff packed beside you?" So the new kid also has a sarcastic streak? How interesting. Maybe I can send him a letter or something once I'm out of here.
"I never unpacked," Keigo shrugs. "Too lazy."
"You didn't unpack in ten years?"
"So you've heard of me! That could've saved me an awkward introduction."
"Just a little from the caretakers, since we're roommates and all." The bastard has the audacity to look unaffected even after being called out. Keigo's arm is getting tired, so he tosses his suitcase to the ground, folding his wings and sitting on it.
"Since you know so much about me, how about you at least tell me your name? For courtesy's sake."
"Dabi. Just Dabi."
"No family name? Wow, you really were born for this place."
"Dabi" scratches his neck uncomfortably. Keigo almost feels guilty, except for the fact that he has places to be and Dabi is very much interfering with that. The quicker he gets out, the better.
"Alright Dabi, you seem like a decent person, so I'll tell you the truth," Keigo says, rising to his feet once again with a shake of his wings. "I'm getting the hell out of here. Right now. Forever."
"I probably could've assumed that," Dabi says. "I mean why are you leaving?"
"That's an even easier question," Keigo laughs dryly. "You know I've been stuck here for ten years. I've been around the same people, give or take a couple that come and go. I'm never the one to come and go, though. I'd be stuck here until they legally have to release me in two years, and by then I'll be just an empty shell of a person. I'm not waiting for that to happen."
"You don't want to be adopted?" Dabi asks, eyeing him strangely.
"I don't need a family. I need freedom." Regardless of how true that statement is, Keigo can hear them finishing up in the dining room. It's now or never. "This has been really great, but I have to go." He finishes opening the window all the way, sticking the crowbar back into his backpack. With his wings carefully pressed against his back, he sticks one leg out the window, ready for the short drop.
"Wait."
He pauses, looking back at Dabi. Even with his heavily scarred face, his expression is easy to read: desperate.
"I know you don't know me, but take me with you," he says, grabbing his own bag. "Please."
"What, you don't want to be adopted?" Keigo asks, mimicking his earlier question.
"You think I can, with a face like this? Besides," he continues in a lower tone, "if my dad ever finds me, I'm dead. The longer I stay in one place, the riskier it is."
"You have a dad? So you're not an orphan!" Keigo says accusingly. "Also why are you talking like the mysterious lead in a spy movie?"
"It's complicated, alright? Just let me come with you to wherever you're going, and then I'll leave you alone. I swear."
Keigo weighs his options in his head. On the one hand, taking this guy along means that he'll have an extra mouth to feed. Plus, between his wings and Dabi's face and hands - and probably rest of him - they'll be the most conspicuous runaways in the city.
On the other hand, Keigo recognizes the desperateness in his eyes easily. Same feeling he sees in his own in the mirror every morning when he's called to the same breakfast with the same people with the same menial conversation day in and day out. He doesn't know what's causing this panic in Dabi, but he can't just stand complicit to it.
Plus, if he brings him along, he'll have a partner in crime. One person can do a stand up routine, but it takes two to tango. Maybe I've been thinking to myself a little too long.
"Alright," he sighs, long and drawn out. "You can come. Grab your stuff, and I'll loan you a few feathers to help you on the way down." He swings his other foot over and shoots downwards, using his wings to catch him before he drops.
"Loan me feathers? I can't grow wings, if that's what you're thinking," Dabi says, peering out at him from the windowsill.
"Just trust me, they fly." Keigo sends about fifty his way - he should be grateful, these things take a while to grow in - and fixes them to his clothes. "Just jump."
"No way in hell."
"You have to make up your mind, Dabi. It's now or never. Trust the stranger or don't, but the feds are probably already onto us." Keigo finds that he rather enjoys talking like a gangster movie cliche. Gives a little bit of spice to his words.
Dabi looks back over his shoulder, then pushes his legs over the ledge.
"If I die, I'll haunt you forever," he warns, staring at the sidewalk three floors down.
"You won't die," Keigo says flippantly. "Cross my heart." He takes a feather from his wing and swishes it over his chest twice for good measure. "Just give me a heads up before-"
Dabi does no such thing, hurtling himself from the window with his small suitcase in hand. Keigo's feathers drop him down nice and easy, still stuck in his shirt.
"See? That wasn't so hard," Keigo says with a smile. "Now comes the easy part. We run."
"Where are we running, exactly?" Dabi asks, as if suddenly realizing that he's following a complete stranger - who very well might be clinically insane - into the city with just the clothes in his bag. In terms of plans, even Keigo can say that was dumb on his part.
"You have no faith in me," he frowns with a shake of his head. "We're going to my apartment, of course."
"You have an apartment?"
"I will soon, hopefully." He flashes another winning smile Dabi's way, hoping it'll shut him up long enough that they can actually start moving. It works, to an extent; Dabi squints at him, but doesn't say anything else.
"Lead the way, Lewis and Clark," he mumbles, throwing his bag over his shoulder.
"Those are two separate people, but I'll take it!" Keigo takes out the poncho he bought, covering his folded wings with mild degrees of success. "What? I can't be seen like this. Ooh, I have something for you too!" He pulls out a face mask triumphantly, securing it over Dabi's head despite his protests.
"You watch too many spy movies," Dabi says, eyebrows furrowed, but he keeps the mask on anyway.
"Speaking of spy movies, we should have code names. I already thought of mine: Hawks." He practically preens, waiting for Dabi's response. He doesn't expect Dabi to snort at that, poking a covered wing.
"Did you think of it when you were ten, trying out hero names?" he asks, eyes crinkled in laughter.
"Maybe, but it's still cool," Keigo grumbles, instantly regretting bringing Dabi in the first place. "Anyway, what'll yours be?"
"Dabi."
"You can't just- that's not your real name, is it." He doesn't say it as a question, more as a realization. He really knows nothing about this boy. But rather than feel nervous, Keigo just gets a rush of adrenaline. New place, new people, new life.
Meanwhile, "Dabi" is struggling to explain himself with the least amount of information necessary. "It's-"
"-Complicated, I got it," Keigo finishes with an eye roll. Dabi just offers up a shrug. "You'll have plenty of time to clarify when we get there. For now, you're Dabi, I'm Hawks, and we're both totally normal citizens walking in the city."
"You look like the hunchback of Notre Dame."
"Shut up now, and shut up forever!"