Chapter Text
When Hawks is first introduced to Twice, he’s a little surprised by how genuine he is. Bubaigawara Jin has been calculated to be an S-Class threat, with a fearsome Double quirk that could overrun a city within minutes. From his past employment records before he went off the radar, Jin’s employers paint him as a lazy, ungrateful person struggling to piece himself together in present society. His old school records don’t paint him in good light either, calling him talentless and troubled after the death of his parents. In-person interviews with those Twice had previously known before he turned to villainy all point out the uneasiness they felt when meeting Jin’s disillusioned gaze.
His start as a villain quickly shot Twice up to the nation’s most wanted list due to the sheer power of his quirk. Twice was a fearsome force to be reckoned with, unstoppable for several years. And then one day, Twice’s activities came to a standstill while he suffered from the psychological trauma of his doubles killing each other. Out of that period of silence, he became a member of the League of Villains, Shigaraki’s most powerful and loyal pawn.
But when Hawks first comes face-to-face with Twice, he’s not met with an impression of evil.
“Heya!” Twice chipperly greets with crescent-shaped eyes under his mask. He’s waving rapidly, muscled body vibrating with energy as he bounds over to where Hawks is being led around the mountain villa by Dabi. “You the new guy, right? Hawks! Nice to meet you— not nice! Not nice at all!”
“Hey!” Hawks greets back, matching Twice’s enthusiasm with an easy-going one. He doesn’t blink an eye at the sudden switch to a hostile tone, already aware of Twice’s split personality changes. It’s funny, how aggressive and biting that second voice is. But Hawks can’t seem to sense a real danger from it, no matter how insulting. “Twice, right? Nice to meet you!”
“What are you doing here?” Dabi asks in an annoyed tone, stopping in the hallway to frown irritably at the masked villain. Hawks grins, amused by how easily the mysterious I-can’t-be-bothered-by-anything-you-do attitude drops from Dabi’s demeanor when Twice comes around. It seems Twice can knock down anyone’s posing from mere presence alone. Hawks doesn’t think that information is particularly important, but he’ll keep it in mind anyway. “Aren’t you supposed to be sorting regiments with the ugly Rapunzel?”
“It was boring! And he said I was useless anyway!” Twice declares proudly, pounding a hearty fist to his chest. Suddenly, he slouches, misery clouding over his previously bright air as Twice’s enthusiasm falls to the pits. “He told me to get Toga or Spinner instead to replace me— that ungrateful asshole! I’ll show him who’s easily replaceable!”
“Well, whatever. You wouldn’t have enjoyed it, anyway,” Dabi says dismissively as he turns and continues to walk down the hallway. Hawks follows, but is surprised by Twice suddenly marching up beside him and slinging a friendly arm around him.
“So! Hawks,” Twice drawls, uncaring of the weight he puts on the hero. The villain is solid against him, clearly from a good workout regimen. Hawks can’t quite imagine someone as indecisive as Twice sticking to a strict gym routine, though. Perhaps he’s naturally this bulky? “What’s being a hero like? You know, adored by the world, your praises sung on TV every time you turn it on? Must be a snazzy life— suited for a two-faced asshole like you!”
“A little stifling,” Hawks answers easily, adjusting his balance as he tries to accommodate for Twice’s bodyweight on his right shoulder. Twice has got an envious fat-to-muscle ratio, that’s for sure. “You’re being watched constantly. And every wrong move you make gets blown up by the press. It’s a constant game of walking the tightrope.”
“As if that’s any different from now,” Dabi retorts over his shoulder, looking pointedly at Hawks’ wings. Hawks grins as he lifts his wings and shuffles his feathers, putting the microdevices previously placed on his wings on full display.
“If I make a wrong move with you guys, it’s pain of death,” Hawks says jokingly, despite the honesty to that statement. He watches Dabi’s eyes narrow at him, silently taking notes. Dabi’s eyes are the ones he needs to avoid the most. Hawks can’t quite understand why yet, but Dabi seems to be a greater threat than everyone realizes. Though there’s not enough evidence to support him on this matter. “In a weird way, it’s better than having a lifetime’s worth of ass-kissing torn down.”
Twice roars with laughter, slapping Hawks heartily on the back. Hawks hides the pain from the blows easily, but damn. Twice’s strength packs a punch.
“I like you!” Twice declares, grin stretching out underneath his mask. Hawks looks at him, wondering why the villain felt the need to hide his face. Self-conscious, maybe? Or does it tie in to the psychological issue Twice is known to have? “I’m looking forward to seeing you around, Hawks! So I can beat you to a crisp when I get the chance!”
“Likewise,” Hawks replies with a small smile. He doesn’t sense a trace of deception from Twice, despite the villain’s constant hypocrisy with himself. It’s a little strange. Out of everyone here, Twice is the most truthful upfront. More truthful than the hero hidden in their midst, watching the passing events with a calculative shine to his eyes.
Hawks isn’t sure “honest” is the right profile to make of a villain. But well, he’s seen quite a few strange stories in his lifetime.
Hawks sometimes gets tired of the plastic smile.
He’s just been through a rather draining day, swooping in to bring down villains left and right as he soars around the country to investigate the PLF’s numbers under the guise of missionary work. Everyone in the streets is delighted to see the sight of the winged hero in areas he normally doesn’t speed through, scrambling to get a glimpse of the winged hero from a distant district. The local heroes all have mixed reactions, but most of them are awed by the sight of the current Number Two taking a quick stop in their jurisdiction before heading off to who knows where.
He plasters on a smile through the whole day, longer than usual. At least when he’s on patrol in his hometown of Kyushu, he doesn’t need to smile as often. His sidekicks are all used to his brazen impatience, and his share of citizens are all alright with just cheering and waving at their resident hero as he zooms to the next takedown on his city streets. Outside of his home district, however, people expect more interaction with arguably the most fun and relatable hero in Japan. That’s his persona, after all. Hawks is meant to be comfortable with the masses, easily able to blend in with the common folk with his unoffended and easy-going nature. Someone who can go down to their level, and have a chat about the most mundane of topics while answering everyone’s queries without fail.
He’s tired of pleasing everyone.
Hawks barges into his hero office without turning on the lights just after midnight, letting out a heavy sigh. His wings ache a little from being constantly airborne, but it’s nothing he hasn’t encountered. Training was more brutal with the Hero Commission. Hawks slumps down heavily in his office chair, rolling away from his desk a little as he carelessly plops his legs atop the industrial material. With another small breath, Hawks tips his head back against the headrest and allows himself a quiet moment of peace.
It’s quiet. Hawks listens to the distant sounds of the city from his window, eyes closed and welcoming the darkness of the night as he quietly meditates for himself. He can imagine the familiar view out of his wall of glass, the twinkling stars arranged into random splatters up against a dark night sky and looking over the soft glow of his city. Kyushu is always alight with activity, lights never dying as the working day life smoothly transitions into the fun-filled nightlife everyone in the city enjoys. The streets are always busy, rife with men and women hopping from club to club, graveyard workers hustling to get to their night jobs, and the unlucky ones stumbling from shadowed alleys to other familiar dwellings. Hawks finds his mind being drawn back into the wellbeing of his people, the residents of Kyushu he grew up with and swore to protect even when they didn’t know he was walking alongside them. The residents who’ve fallen in love with and found comfort in the winged hero who soars above their streets, watching over them with capable eyes. He loves flying through his city’s skies, soaring through the thrill of chasing trouble on its heels while protecting his citizens from the reaches of evil.
The sky above Kyushu is always a stunning sight. Hawks wishes he had more time to admire it, wishes he could have wrapped up his day’s investigations sooner so he could catch another beautiful sunset from atop his agency. His district’s sunsets are the most dazzling out of everyone’s, in his biased opinion. He remembers Endeavor’s gaze lingering on the pink and purple hues of the sunset when he visited, saying nothing about it but obviously admiring the beauty. He loves seeing the look of awe he gets from visitors he brings over, entranced by the natural glow and life of the city district the winged hero watches over carefully.
Thinking about Endeavor in his city, however, inevitably brings his mind back to the High-End Nomu.
Hawks remembers the usually serene expressions of his people quickly change from surprise to panic, shattering the usually relaxed state of his city. He remembers the frantic buzz spreading through the populace, igniting instinctive survival triggers as they flee to safety. He remembers his sidekicks rapidly orchestrating the evacuation, fear causing their usually reassuring smiles to be replaced by stony, rigid expressions intent on getting their jobs done. He remembers the sting of regret, the sting of failure as he listens carefully to the distant cries of the residents he swore to protect while desperately hoping Endeavor got his act together fast enough before the Nomu sinks its teeth into one of his faithful residents.
Hawks finds it ironic how he’s been praised as a hero alongside Endeavor when he’s the one who brought the Nomu knocking on their doors in the first place.
He’s been questioning himself as a hero lately, though he’s no stranger to such doubt. Hawks is aware that his rise into heroics was nothing but unconventional, that the skills and ideology the Hero Commission forced into him were nothing like the lessons they taught at UA or Shiketsu. For him, Hawks has always been taught to weigh the value of morality, when it was necessary and when it became a burden. He’s been taught to weigh lives with numbers, to strive for the optimal result no matter how murky the waters he treads would get.
He’s not the hero he thought he’d be when he first watched Endeavor drive a flaming fist into a giant beast to save a busload of schoolchildren on TV. He feels like an imposter, a pretender wearing the guise of a hero in order to take advantage of the opportunities around him. A thief pretending to be a trustworthy source of protection as he rips the rug out from under people’s noses. At times like these, Hawks tries to reassure himself of the ultimate good that would come of his deeds. That in the end, Hawks will still be a hero who brought peace to society.
But he can’t shake the heavy weight of the cloak of villainy he wears just as comfortably as his hero persona.
Hawks thinks back to the expression on Best Jeanist’s face when he took his last surviving lung out of commission. The surprise, the realization, then shock. And finally, confusion.
The little flicker of betrayal that lingered in Best Jeanist’s eyes as he took his last breath is a sight Hawks will never forget anytime soon.
Hawks ends his closing period of self-reflection for the day a little bummed out on top of his exhaustion. He decides to skip over the patrol reports that night, for once blindly trusting others to do his job for him.
Hawks easily gets along with the low-tier members of the Paranormal Liberation Front. Ordinary civilians, average in all aspects of life. Despite their disgust for the current status quo, the civilians still hold a fair amount of awe for the famous Number Two hero—Winged Hero: Hawks, who anyone and everyone can relate to no matter how insignificant they may seem.
But aside from the gullible pawns that amass the bulk of the Liberation Army, Hawks finds it a little harder to earn the trust of other, higher-ranked veteran members. Those who’ve been with the PLF for a long time fostered a deep hatred of the hero system, and understandably watch the Number Two hero with wary eyes. The commanding seats obviously aren’t easy to win over, with Skeptic commanding an admittedly impressive surveillance of every single action Hawks makes. Dabi isn’t so upfront with his distrust, and it makes Hawks wonder if he perhaps won over the elusive villain with Best Jeanist’s body. After all, Dabi seems to like corpses, judging from the record of burnt corpses left in his wake.
Aside from Dabi’s mysterious apathy, Hawks resigns himself to a long road of playing nice with everyone until they let their guard down from greed. Skeptic’s an easy catch. The man’s a glutton for intel, and Hawks is exactly the kind of inside agent he’d kill to get his hands on. Skeptic’s still got his sniveling eyes all up in his business, but Hawks figures he’s a won battle already.
The rest of the command don’t even bother giving him the time of day, aside from Detnerat’s CEO. Re-Destro is an enthusiastic conversationalist, but Hawks can easily tell that gaining his trust doesn’t matter in the long run if the CEO naturally tends to make nice with everyone. His followers all look to Re-Destro’s actions, and Re-Destro’s actions point their faith towards Shigaraki.
Shigaraki is the person Hawks needs to get a handle on, fast.
But ever since that major conference where the League of Villains assumed command of the entirety of the legendary villain Destro’s legacy, Shigaraki’s been gone. Hawks couldn’t hear much from Shigaraki’s side of the conversation with the mysterious “doctor”, but he assumes that the “power-up” everyone kept talking about behind closed doors was currently happening.
Four months.
Four months to win favor with a 100,000-strong army, weasel his way into the good graces of the commanders, and gather up enough intel on their forces and abilities. No pressure.
Strangely enough, Hawks finds his job easily sped up by Twice.
“Hawks! You gotta help me with the fifth chapter!” Twice cries out, slamming open the doors to the parlor. Everyone inside the room jumps, startled by the villain’s loud entrance, but Hawks isn’t fazed as he turns to face him. He heard his rapid footsteps coming from a mile away. “They say it’s important— I can’t be bothered to read this shit! ”
“Not a great way to make an entrance, buddy,” Hawks responds, watching from his peripherals the way the lingering followers glance uneasily amongst themselves. A commander who doesn’t understand their ideology? Doubt is sure to fester. “Let’s go talk in another room.”
“Oh, right! Thanks!”
As Hawks follows Twice down twisting hallways, he briefly laments the complexity of his job. If only he could simply sow discord amongst the members of the Liberation. But given the strength Shigaraki and the League possesses, judging from the whispered tales floating through the rooms, a peasant uprising would only mean more casualties in the face of the ultimate threat. Hawks needs to strike at the heart, the top command.
Twice seems eager to do his job for him.
“Hey! Let me into the room!” Twice demands when an armored guard stands in his way. The guard raises an eyebrow at him from under his hood, pupils shifting silently to the winged hero behind him.
“It is not the recommendation of our intelligence commander that you be left alone with the winged hero,” the guard grouches lowly. Twice scoffs at the guard, unaware of Hawks’ interested expression as he puffs up his chest.
“What, don’t think I can’t defend myself?” Twice shoots back, bristling. Hawks can’t help but liken him to an irritated kitten, puffed up to be intimidating but ultimately failing to shake the hearts of his enemies. “May I remind you who kicked your asses in Deika? I can overrun your entire compound within minutes if you really want a reminder!”
The guard still looks displeased, but ultimately, he steps back to allow access to the room. Twice blows a childish raspberry in his stony face, shaking his butt as he struts triumphantly inside. Hawks follows quietly, amused, but sends a reassuring smile to the guard to smooth over the sour confrontation.
“You can leave the door open if you want,” Hawks offers, “Or come watch. I have nothing to hide.”
The guard doesn’t answer, roughly shutting the door once Hawks steps through. Hawks snorts to himself as he joins Twice at the low table, taking in the sight of Twice rummaging about his meager pockets for the source of his problems.
“Where is it? Where is it?!” Twice wails, turning his pockets inside out and going so far as to unclasp his utility belt. “I can’t find the book! You worthless idiot, check the back pouch!”
“Thanks for standing up for me back there,” Hawks says, taking a seat at the table. He spies the shelf full of Destro’s biography and opts to save mentioning it for later. “It really means a lot to me.”
“No problem, buddy!” Twice chirps, still turning over himself in his haste to find his book. Hawks watches as Twice makes a rather impressive contortionist position to check behind him. Flexible as well. Twice must have done some form of martial arts in his past. “I hate it when people don’t give others a chance. That’s exactly what’s so fucked up about our society— why I pillaged and plundered for years until I finally found my sanctuary within the League!”
Hawks blinks.
“You feel like you weren’t afforded a chance?” Hawks asks, eager to get a little more insight into Twice’s mind. Twice scoffs, giving up on finding the book as he slumps over the low table.
“When were any of us given a chance?” Twice asks mournfully, and Hawks frowns a little at the resignation in his voice. “Make one mistake, and you’re out. Batter’s up, bring the next pig into the slaughterhouse! It’s not our fault we’re the way we are. How should I know that I should’ve kissed ass with that motorcycle dude?! What does it matter if we make mistakes? He was dead!”
Hawks ruminates over that for a little while, tapping his chin in thought as Twice argues with himself for a minute. It’s a problem society was forced to acknowledge when the Hero Killer came around and found his end in Hosu. The flaws in today’s quirk-filled society. Hawks is aware that others are slowly coming to understand the shortcomings the current system holds, though no action is being taken or planned. Admittedly, that’s the fault of heroes and the government—the inaction. But in the end, it doesn’t matter.
He has a mission to do.
Hawks finally interrupts Twice in the middle of berating himself for something he said to Toga by waving a hand in front of his face and pointing to the full bookshelves.
“You think they’d mind if we took some of those?” Hawks asks, an idea starting to form in his mind. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out his highlighter, left from when he was conducting a personal crash course on the liberation ideology himself. “I think I could use some of those to recruit others to our cause.”
“Awesome idea, Hawks!” Twice declares before sprinting straight to the bookshelves. Hawks finds himself guffawing when Twice trips over his discarded utility belt, crashing face-first into the red books and adding his own blood splatters to the design.
As usual, the Commission works fast. When Hawks flies into Endeavor’s district of Shibuya, he’s surprised to see three young UA students trailing after Endeavor’s tail in the city streets. Hawks is a little impressed with their speed, though they’re obviously not fast enough to catch up with Endeavor, much less him. Still, they’re better than the average hero despite their inexperience.
Hawks finds himself thinking about Tsukuyomi, the young hero-hopeful he unfortunately had to abandon to his sidekicks with the new assignment given to him by the Hero Commission. During their first work-study together, Hawks found himself gradually warming up to the young boy, slowly finding himself impressed by the sheer drive young Tokoyami had in order to chase after Hawks with his wings. Surprisingly, Hawks finds a fond smile lingering on his face, making him pause.
Tokoyami was a dark child, but there was always a fire in his red eyes. Towards the end of his first work-study, Hawks had seen that fire bloom into a tentative respect and admiration for the winged hero mentoring him. Admiration isn’t a stranger to Hawks, but what lingered in Tokoyami’s eyes was softer. A little more vulnerable.
The desire to please.
Hawks immediately quells the sudden hate and fear that rose in himself, not bothering to digest it. He quickly leaps off his perch and soars straight to the streets, wind tearing sharply across his wings as he swoops in for the steal.
(A thief. How low will he stoop, if he would even steal a child’s wonder?)
After a rather showy entrance—Hawks bets Dabi will get a kick out of watching the footage later—Hawks engages himself with minor conversation. Shouto is indeed the complete opposite of Endeavor when it came to personality, but Hawks senses that Endeavor’s grit can sometimes emerge in the young boy if pushed hard enough. Midoriya is a rather plain character, easily impressed and probably a whole lot of gullible, but Hawks saw the feral side of him emerge in his Sports Festival match with Shouto. He’s an interesting one to watch out for.
Bakugo Katsuki…
Honestly, Hawks isn’t sure what to think of him.
He’s supposedly no threat to hero society at present, but it’s abundantly clear that once a line has been crossed, Bakugo will become a thorn in a person’s side. An untamable loose cannon. Dangerous, possibly deadly if pushed. But ultimately restrained by a budding sense of honor. Hawks wonders exactly who had the strength and patience to weasel Bakugo into submission long enough to teach him a little humility.
If he remembers correctly, Tokoyami said that Bakugo had his first work-study with Best Jeanist.
Hawks considers the brooding blond, hyper-aware of the scarily penetrative gaze Bakugo has on him. It’s as if the young hero student could see straight through him. Hawks is aware people like Bakugo exist, those not fooled by masks or smiles or compliments as their honed instincts immediately expose lies like a homing missile. Hawks has never really needed to deal with someone like that in real life, but today seems to be full of surprises.
Hawks finds his gaze drawn to the raised collar of Bakugo’s winter gear and feels the need to escape the blond’s truth-seeking gaze ramp up in urgency.
(He’s stolen not one, but two children’s wonder. What a disappointment he’s become.)
Hawks takes the time to make sure his words engrain themselves memorably into Endeavor’s head. (He’s not taking any chances. Sure, Endeavor has proved his intelligence often enough, but honestly? It’s a little pathetic how easily things could fly over the flame hero’s head sometimes.) Then, Hawks flies off, anxiety swirling in his gut as he prays Endeavor’s bullheaded brain got the message while he soars straight back into enemy territory.
Hawks resolves not to think about Tokoyami, or the searching frown Bakugo wore as he stared after the winged hero returning to the skies. He has enough blood on his hands. Hawks doesn’t want to carry the broken hearts of children along with the weight of his sins.
But he made his bed. Soon, he’ll have the responsibility to lie in it.
“Don’t worry about it, guys! I have this, I swear! Question me again and I’ll rip your heads off, low-lives!”
Hawks walks out into the loading bay to the sight of Twice’s human chain dangerously wobbling back and forth in the air. The 20 bodies cry out little insults and remarks at each other, jeering at each other as who he assumes to be the real Twice tries to grab a metal hook slung through a system of pulleys in the ceiling. Hawks tucks his hands into his pockets as he watches, hearing the concerned murmurs of the garage workers underlie Twice’s spunky encouragements to himself as he once again tries to grab ahold of the hook.
There’s a chorus of shouts as the human tower falls apart.
Immediately, Hawks’ feathers shoot out to catch all the clones by their sturdy wrist-guards.
“Wha—?! Hawks?!” Twice shouts in surprise as Hawks gently lowers all 20 versions of him back to the ground. The surrounding workers all clap in awe, surprise and delight on their features after witnessing a speedy rescue. Ironic. “Phew! Thanks for the save! I could have handled that on my own!”
“No doubt about it, buddy,” Hawks says easily, waggling his fingers in greeting to one of the younger onlookers. The girl blushes, hiding behind who he assumes to be her parent, shy at being singled out by the well-known hero. “What were you even doing up there?”
“Just trying to get that hook down for these guys,” Twice says dishearteningly, sighing in disappointment as he looks up to the elusive hook with sad, droopy eyes. “They need it to transfer shipping crates— how the hell are you so fast?!”
Hawks easily tugs down the stubborn hook with his red feathers, unfazed as the shipping workers cheer in triumph. He maneuvers his feathers to tug the weighted hook over to one of the stronger workers, who quickly takes back the hook with a shout of thanks. Hawks waves cheerily, smiling politely at everyone’s happy expressions as he turns to walk off the pavement, returning to his hunt for some other commander he can bug long enough to glean information out of.
“Hawks, that was amazing!”
Hawks slows his tracks, turning around to look back at Twice with confusion. Twice is skipping after him, beaming, while the rest of his clones stay behind to help the workers.
“What was?”
“That! What you just did! Stop acting dumb when you know what I’m talking about!”
“Pulling the hook down for people?” Hawks says quizzically, unable to follow the logic. Twice pounds his fists together as he nods.
“Yeah! That was really nice of you!”
“It’s common human decency, Twice.”
“You say that, but do you know how many assholes there are in the world? I bet Dabi’s crusty face wouldn’t even glance in their direction! That ugly, roasted goth!”
“Well, there are different people in the world,” Hawks says dismissively, continuing to walk down toward the outdoor atrium. He’s aware of Twice following close behind, but Hawks doesn’t see a reason to shake him off just yet. “You’re pumped up over nothing, Twice.”
“Of course you’d say that,” Twice scoffs scornfully, shaking his head. “You’re a hero!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean, you’re probably surrounded by sanctimonious assholes preaching about the inherent good in humanity all the time!”
Hawks can’t help himself. He doubles over with laughter, drawing the attention of everyone in the outer gardens as they watch Twice hover over the young hero questioningly. His laughter rings sharply in the air across the foliage, cutting with its forceful notes. It takes a while for Hawks to get ahold of himself, wiping away the tears in his eyes as he grins cheekily at Twice beside him while he straightens up.
“Thanks for that,” Hawks wheezes, rubbing away at the corners of his eyes. “That was the funniest thing I’ve heard all week!”
“What’s so funny about it?” Twice asks. Hawks huffs to himself as he feels his grin widen.
“All Endeavor preaches about is becoming the strongest of them all,” Hawks explains, lips quirked into a cynical grin as he thinks about his fellow heroes from the billboard charts. “Edgeshot’s all doom and gloom. He’s really depressing if you stay in conversation with him for too long. Miruko’s spunky, but all she wants is a good fight and to live out her life fast and hard. Crust is a little more of what you’re looking for, but dude’s obnoxious as hell when it comes to noble honor or whatever it is he’s on about. I don’t know much about Woods yet, but the guy’s real quiet so you don’t see many holy sermons from him. Wash is just weird, no one really takes him seriously since his face is plastered all over laundry mats. And Yoroi Musha is always bugging me about honoring tradition and history.”
“I don’t follow.”
“None of us talk about the good of humanity!” Hawks laughs, shaking his head. He can feel his heart twist from something inside him, an insecurity he tries not to let take control of him from time to time. Judgement. He cares nothing for opinions, but when judgement day comes Hawks is terrified of what the other heroes will say about him. “All heroes ever focus on is the bad stuff. The potential consequences villains can wreck on society. None of us are the little nuggets of sunshine you think we are.”
“Oh. That makes more sense,” Twice muses, scratching his chin in thought. “Heroes really do reflect how our society rolls, don’t they?”
Hawks thinks back to the fateful mission briefing with the Commission president. The stern lines of her face as she coldly sentences Hawks to five months of internal struggle with himself, citing the tactical good that could come out of it.
His blood red wings seem to grow warmer underneath the sunlight.
“Yeah,” Hawks says, deciding to map a path through the garden into the other wing of the mountain villa. “Yeah, we do.”
Sweet little Tokoyami leaves a note behind for Hawks when he finally flies back into his hero agency for the first time that week. Hawks’ golden eyes quickly sight the clumsily folded notebook paper, torn out of a composition notebook and lying unassumingly beside his computer monitor. The hero quickly sets down his things, flinging off his aviation jacket and tossing it onto the flat of his desk as he picks up the paper. He unfolds it carefully as he pops his last stick of yakitori into his mouth, reading its contents curiously.
Hawks,
Patrolling with your sidekicks was very fun this week. Don’t worry, we’re keeping your city safe for you. Hope whatever business you’re wrapped up with ends well. I look forward to showing you how much I’ve improved.
Yours truly,
Tsukuyomi
Hawks smiles a little at the cheesy nature of the note. He finds himself lingering on the crappy little doodle the teenager had left underneath, a messy scribble of Tsukuyomi soaring through the city with Dark Shadow wrapped around him. Combined with the honest sincerity of Tsukuyomi’s words, Hawks finds himself a little warmed by the young hero, a child who looks up to him as if he held all the answers to the world.
It’s the best feeling Hawks has had in weeks. And he said Edgeshot was the pinnacle of doom and gloom.
The door opens. One of his sidekicks peeks into the room, eyes brightening at the sight of the blond hero standing inside. He creates a messy salute with two fingers, grinning mischievously at Hawks from the hallway.
“I thought I saw you fly in just now,” the sidekick says approvingly. Hawks waggles his fingers sarcastically in greeting, lips turned up into a smirk.
“Nice to see your observation skills are improving,” Hawks says. The sidekick snorts, shaking his head.
“Haha. Very funny.” The sidekick catches a glimpse of the paper in Hawks’ hands, brightening visibly. “Oh, you saw Tsukuyomi’s note already? Cute, isn’t it? The kid’s such a bundle of fun. I don’t know why we haven’t had a hero trainee up until now. The rest of us are having a blast showing him around the city and sicking him onto whatever crimes we come across! He’s freaking powerful, too! You wouldn’t think it, what with that scrawny body of his, but Dark Shadow’s got a real nasty side to him when Tokoyami lets the reins slack.”
“That’s nice to hear,” Hawks says as envy quietly curls in his chest. He really wishes he could see Tokoyami’s progress for himself firsthand. Call him possessive, but he called dibs the second he saw the bird boy on the third-place podium. “Make sure he isn’t slacking off on close-combat. And feed the kid a little, will you?”
“Roger that, boss,” the sidekick says, rolling their eyes. They fall silent as they take in his appearance, easy-going attitude falling away for a moment. “You been okay? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you held up by an assignment for this long. We all miss you here, you know. The residents have been asking where you are.”
“I miss it here, too,” Hawks says, careful not to let the honesty bleed too much into his tone. Skeptic is watching, and he doesn’t want to feed the seeds of doubt too much. “The work’s a freaking pain. But I’ll be back to flying over the streets in no time!”
“Glad to hear it, boss!”
As the sidekick turns to leave, a sudden thought occurs to Hawks. Clenching the note a little tighter in his hand, he calls out to his subordinate.
“Hey, Rocket Fist?” Hawks calls. When the sidekick turns, Hawks waves the note in the air. “Why did Tsukuyomi leave a note today?”
“He had a really good week!” Rocket Fist replies, smiling. “I don’t suppose you’ve had time to go over the patrol reports, but Tsukuyomi took down 23 villains all by himself! Granted, they were small fry, but he’s been having fun exercising a little more control on his own without anyone to catch up to.”
“Oh.”
“You should’ve seen him, boss,” Rocket Fist laughs, grinning to himself and taking no notice of the watching hero in front of him. “Before any of us realized it, Tsukuyomi swooped in to save a kid from getting run over by a bus. Half a mile away! All the residents have been falling in love with the kid. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Tsukuyomi so shy before!”
“That’s great,” Hawks says. He doesn’t quite know what to say in response. ‘I wish I could’ve been there’? If he really wanted to, he’d make it happen. But duty comes first. And Hawks has abandoned the kid many times in the past, even before the PLF became a problem.
He’s not fit to be the role model Tokoyami looks up to. But Tokoyami chose him anyway.
“He wanted to share that with you,” Rocket Fist finally concludes, looking back to the note in Hawks’ hands and gesturing toward it. “We were all telling him how vague he was being, but Tsukuyomi’s stubborn. I guess it didn’t come across well enough, huh?”
“It’s fine,” Hawks says, folding the paper back into its folds. Despite the regret lingering in his chest, Hawks can’t find it in himself to wipe the smile from his face. “The little doodle made up for it.”
“Doodle?”
“He drew himself and Dark Shadow flying over the city.”
“What?! Is that what he was doing when we were trying to fix the coffee maker? Let me see!”
“Nope!”
Hawks giggles as he grabs his jacket and speeds out of the room, powerful wings propelling himself through the high, open spaces of his agency. The indignant shouts of his sidekicks follow him as Hawks leads them on a playful run through the agency, Tokoyami’s note tucked safely into the soft, inner linings of his jacket.
You picked the wrong hero to idolize, kid. Hawks isn’t someone you want the stamp of approval from.
