Chapter Text
Keigo’s in the middle of fighting his frying pan when he hears the buzzer of his front door.
It’s a very laborious process, partly because he has only used a frying pan exactly two times in his life before this, and he’s halfway sure that he’s about to blow his house up.
But, in his defense, he’s gotta do it. He’s got to at least try to learn how to cook for himself. He’s twenty-three goddamned years old- he should know how to cook.
At least, that’s what Da- Touya would say, before whipping up the most heavenly food that Keigo has ever had in his entire fucking life-
But that doesn’t matter. Touya’s not here anymore, and Touya’s never going to be here anymore, and it’s better that way-
Enough with this train of thought.
He shakes his head, snapping himself back to attention. He’s going to learn to cook. Because now that he’s on an extended break for the first time in his life, he’s got a chance to learn. And he really should learn, he knows- it’s an important life skill, and he shouldn’t subsist on takeout for the rest of his life.
Plus, he’s got so much free time now. If he’s being honest with himself, being on break is awful, but the doctors say his wings and back won’t be healed enough for him to work for another month-
Frying pan. Fucking frying pan. He’s learning to cook.
He glares at the sad little pile of rice mush on his counter, and the unevenly beaten bowl of eggs. Omurice was perhaps not the best dish to start cooking with, but he loves it, so sue him.
Now if he could just figure out how much oil is enough, and how to make the frying pan heat up evenly-
It’s at this moment that the front buzzer of his penthouse rings, and he pauses.
What- who could that be?
He never gets visitors. It’s not like he’s got any friends that actively want to hang out with him. His first guess would be a handler, but- he doesn’t have handlers anymore, either. Not since the Commission started being dismantled, as corruption investigations are ongoing, not since-
Deep breath in.
And there’s nobody else who really knows where he lives- a few other heroes would know, but why would any of them have any reason to be knocking on his door when they could just as easily send it through his secretary-
For a wild, brief moment, he wonders if it’s Touya-
No. Touya wouldn’t knock on his apartment door. Touya always used the window, for one thing, and if that asshole ever shows up here again, it’s probably going to be to try and kill him.
Again.
Maybe you’d deserve it, though, you killed-
His back aches.
With a growl, Keigo puts his frying pan down on the stove, and marches over to his door. He sends a baby feather ahead of him, just in case- but whoever it is, they’re probably not dangerous.
He inhales once, paints a smile on his face, and yanks the door open-
To see a head of split red-and-white hair standing in his doorway, and wide, mismatched eyes staring right back at him.
Keigo blinks.
Todoroki Shouto blinks back.
Keigo wonders, briefly, if he’s having some sort of fever dream. A hallucination. Why the hell is Touya’s youngest brother-
Todoroki Shouto coughs once, before speaking in a quiet, slightly raspy voice. “May I come in?”
Well, shit.
______________________________
Keigo offers the kid a glass of water.
Todoroki accepts it, taking a seat on his living room couch. “Thanks.” The boy nods at him. “Sorry- I’ve just been getting used to talking again. I wasn’t able to talk properly for a few weeks after- after. Well.”
He nods, feeling beyond awkward. “Same. My throat also got a bit messed up, it’s fine.”
The doctors say that he’ll probably never sound exactly like his old self again; his voice will always have a note of something darker in it, scars left on his vocal chords from the fire-pain-burns-make-it-stop-
But he’d recovered his ability to speak, at least. And now that he’s listening properly, he can identify the source of the same raspy note in Todoroki’s voice; air scraping slightly over fire-roughened vocal chords.
If he’d been faster, been better, maybe Touya wouldn’t have had a chance to wrap those fingers around the kid’s throat and squeeze-
He shakes his head, and sighs. “Alright, littlest Todoroki. Not that you’re not welcome, but why are you here?”
Seriously. It’s late afternoon on a weekday- U.A. had resumed fairly quickly after everything, so the kid’s probably just gotten out of school. But even so, it’s not as though that’s a reason for the boy to be here. He’s not surprised that Todoroki knows where he lives- Endeavor could tell the kid that quickly enough -but why? They’ve only ever spoken a few times before…
And he doesn’t see a reason for this sudden visit.
Especially in the wake of everything that the Todoroki family has been dealing with recently.
He’s kind of shocked that the kid made it to his home without being mobbed by reporters. Though, the overly large hoodie and now-removed face mask have probably got something to do with it, he supposes.
“Ah- please just call me Shouto.” The boy’s expression doesn’t change. “And- I’m sorry for barging in unexpectedly, but I had a few questions I was hoping to ask you, if that’s alright, Hawks.”
The sound of his hero name jolts him, and he lets out a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to project a happy persona. He’s not feeling that emotion right now, but-
“Sure! What’s up?”
It’s who Hawks is supposed to be, right?
Though, to be honest, he doubts that anyone will ever look at Hawks the same way again. Even he can’t seem to get the name to feel right, not after all the ways he’s failed as a hero-
You failed you murdered a man you’re not a real hero at all-
Shouto’s voice interrupts his thoughts. “Right.” The teenager gives him a firm look. “I was hoping that I could talk to you about- about my brother. About Touya.”
Everything seems to freeze.
Pretty bird- my name is Todoroki Touya- goodbye, your life means nothing to me-
He shakes himself out of the memories with a gasp.
His back aches.
But Shouto’s still looking at him, so he tries to force on a smile again, though it feels even worse than it did before. “I don’t understand, kid. Why?”
He’s getting a very bad feeling about this, even as Shouto continues. “Because he’s my brother.” The boy sighs. “And I don’t- I’ve realized that you probably know him the best out of anyone right now, because of everything-” he feels the urge to break into hysterical laughter- “so I was hoping that I could talk to you. I’d like you to tell me more about him.”
Keigo sighs.
And drops the overly friendly act. It doesn’t seem appropriate for this conversation, anymore.
He sits down across from the kid, arranging his still-too-small wings around him, and fixes the boy with one of his sharp-eyed stares. “Shouto. Why come to me? You must know that who he is now, that’s not the brother that you might have known-”
“Actually, I didn’t know him very well at all.” Shouto shrugs. “I have only a few faint memories of him before he- before his supposed death. And I know he’s not the same person, anyways.”
He shakes his head. “So, why then?”
The kid inhales, before fixing him with an equally sharp stare. “Because I’m going to save him.”
…What.
…No, seriously. What.
______________________________
Keigo blinks, waiting for the punchline to the joke, for the kid to say something, anything else-
And suddenly more memories are flashing through his mind. Touya, kissing him with a sharp smirk, Touya cooking for him at three a.m., Touya, running warm hands through his feathers-
Burning hands on tender skin, feathers turning to ashes-
His back aches.
He feels himself huff a short, sharp laugh, a little unsteadily. “That’s not funny, Shouto.”
Blue-and-gray eyes have taken on an all-too-familiar stubbornness, and suddenly he wants to throw up. “I’m not joking.”
Keigo snorts.
And realizes that since nobody else has apparently told this child the damn truth, then it’ll have to be him. “Shouto. I’m sorry, but your brother? He’s gone. He can’t be- there’s nothing left of who he used to be.”
It is the truth, no matter how much his traitorous heart sometimes whispers otherwise, dragging up memories and emotions that have no place in reality, things that he can never say out loud.
Touya’s too far gone to ever be dragged back, no matter what he’d occasionally thought sometimes at three a.m., watching the other man sleeping next to him.
Shouto, unfortunately, does not seem to accept his words at face value. “I can understand why you would think that.” The boy hums. “But even so, I have my reasons. So, please-”
“No. Absolutely not.” He shakes his head. He’s not going to give this kid information just so that the little dumbass can run off and do… Well, who knows what, but Keigo’s sure as hell not going to enable it.
He may not be a good hero, but he can at least do that much to save this kid.
He continues. “Look. It’s admirable that you want to help him. But he’s-” off with the League somewhere, doing gods-only-know-what, because Keigo wasn’t good enough –“Not going to accept any sort of help you think you can offer him. Trust me, I-”
He’s interrupted by a faint crackling sound.
Both he and Shouto look over in the direction of his kitchen, only to see that his frying pan has suddenly burst into flames.
…Fuck.
Keigo swears, jumping up and running over there. “Shit!” How the hell did it do that, it’s not like he’d even put any food in there yet-
But he did leave the stove on, didn’t he? Shit, shit, shit-
He grabs a towel and runs it under the sink, intending to beat the flames out-
And freezes, suddenly, as he gets close enough to actually feel the heat of the fire.
Burning skin, burning feathers, a heavy boot pressing down, fire everywhere-
It’s not- it’s not-
They don’t even look like Touya’s flames, but- it’s the first time he’s been near fire since everything- still, why is he suddenly freezing up, he needs to put it out-
A slim hand suddenly reaches past him, and in the next instant, his frying pan is frozen in a block of ice.
Keigo takes in a deep, shuddering breath.
Inhale. Exhale.
You’re fine.
And he turns, sheepishly, to face the kid, who’s now standing just behind him. “…Thanks. Sorry about that. I’m not a great cook.”
And apparently, an even worse hero than he’d thought. He just needed a kid to save him in his own house-
“…It’s okay.” Shouto merely nods at him. “I’m also not a good cook. Bakugou banned me from using the dorm kitchens, but Izuku has been teaching me secretly at night sometimes.”
Keigo lets out a little snort, amused despite himself. “Explosion kid? And bone-breaking boy?”
He winces, suddenly, at the reminder that bone-breaking kid had been in the hospital the longest of any of the U.A. kids after the war, and maybe he shouldn’t-
“Yes.” Shouto hums, apparently not taking any offense. “That’s them.”
They fall into an awkward silence, as Keigo suddenly remembers what they were talking about, before.
Before he can think of what to say, though, Shouto speaks again. The kid moves closer, and the other hand reaches out, slowly starting to defrost the frying pan. “It’s okay, you know.”
He blinks. “What?”
“To be afraid of the fire.” Keigo sucks in another sharp breath, but Shouto continues. “I am, sometimes. Especially after what Touya did to me. And- I know he hurt you too.”
The kid pointedly does not look at his back, at his too-small wings- but Keigo feels his throat close up anyways. He is not emotionally prepared for this level of conversation, especially with a kid who, if he’s being honest, he barely knows.
And it’s not easy to talk about either, because- at this angle, with Shouto’s scar facing him-
It’s hard not to see how much the boy looks like Touya.
Same blue eye, same jawline, similarly-shaped faces-
His back aches.
And he can faintly hear Twice calling out to him, yo Hawks!
“As I was saying before, I can understand why you don’t want to tell me about my brother.” Shouto continues, apparently moving on, snapping him out of his mental spiral. “I know it might seem like I’m letting familial attachment blind me to what he’s done. But it’s not like that at all, I promise.”
Keigo sighs. And begins to wipe down the area around the stove, scrubbing at the faint scorch marks. “Then what is it like, Shouto? Because you’re right. I do have a lot of reservations about this.”
He’s too tired to put on a mask anymore; he just wants to get to the root of this odd conversation.
Shouto nods. “Alright. Please, I just- it’s not that I’m not angry at him, okay? Because I am. I’m furious. He’s put me through so much, he hurt the first people in the world to ever make me feel like I had a real home, he’s told the entire world about what our parents-”
The kid breaks off with a gasp, looking away from him, and it’s the first crack in the stoic mask that Keigo has seen since Shouto walked in through his front door.
His heart suddenly pangs, just a little.
In the aftermath of the war, the Todoroki family has taken center stage in the public spotlight, right under the investigations into the Hero Commission and its corruption. And it hasn’t been pretty.
Not that Keigo’s any stranger to the drama - his own relationship with his father, and what he did to Twice, have certainly been hot topics - but the Todorokis are on a whole different level.
Endeavor is still the number one hero, but there has been increasing talk of the man’s license being stripped, of new regulations being enforced. People are furious, trying to figure out the truth.
Keigo has been following it all with a sort of dogged heartbreak, needing to know what’s going on after everything that Touya had said, but also hating how much he’s learning about his childhood hero-
It’s hard. It’s been fucking hard.
But that’s just Endeavor.
The rest of the Todoroki family has also been under an ever-increasing microscope. The other two children have had to withdraw from their daily lives- Todoroki Fuyumi hasn’t been able to go to work ever since, and Todoroki Natsuo has been forced to switch to online classes at university. Todoroki Rei has returned to her mental hospital, as it’s currently the only place where the media can’t get at her.
People are angry. They want more answers, they want to know.
And Shouto, as the most visible face of the family aside from Endeavor- Shouto has, arguably, had it the worst.
Every day on the news, it’s been some variation of the same few topics. Discussing Touya’s allegations, dissecting every public appearance the kid has ever made- one show had an entire hour-long session just discussing the scar-
Keigo hadn’t been able to watch- had turned the T.V. off, feeling disgusted.
In fact, as he looks at the kid now, he’s honestly shocked that Shouto is even standing here talking to him, semi-normally. All the pressure that the kid’s been under; Keigo wouldn’t have been surprised if Shouto had just- broke.
Aside from Endeavor’s brief press conference, confessing to the abuse and promising to be a better hero, the family hasn’t made an official statement- but even that has still fed the media frenzy.
Keigo takes a deep breath. And holds out a hand, gently tapping the boy’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Shouto. You don’t have to-”
“No, I-” The kid shakes a red-and-white head, before straightening up and looking him in the eye again. “Like I told you, I barely knew him before, so- so it’s not that I have any fond childhood memories clouding my view. I am mad at him. I haven’t forgiven him for anything. I hate him more than I love him, right now. But…” here, Shouto’s voice quiets a little. “I can also see myself in him, and- and I want to save him.”
Keigo… stares.
That’s a lot to unpack there- the implication that Shouto can feel some sort of connection to Touya, the not knowing each other-
He’s not sure if it’s his place to ask. But the kid came to him, and well-
He’s still not fully convinced. “What do you mean, you can see yourself in him?”
Shouto flinches, before sighing. “The things he said… the way he acted… they remind me of me. Before I met Izuku, before I met my friends- sorry, I know you probably don’t understand what I mean, but I-”
“No, it’s okay.” Keigo interrupts, not wanting to force the boy too far. “I…”
He trails off, and looks at his mostly-unfrozen frying pan.
Touya isn’t salvageable. No matter what Shouto thinks, Keigo is sure of this- he has to be sure of this. He’s spent too many nights wrapped up in the other man’s arms and having nightmares of blue flames swallowing him whole, to have any doubt.
He can’t handle any doubt.
But Shouto’s still looking at him, eyes firm, and-
Damn it all, if Keigo doesn’t recognize that fucking Todoroki stubbornness.
His mouth moves without his permission. “Okay.”
Shouto stares at him. “Huh?”
“Okay.” Keigo scrubs a hand down his face- he’s probably going to regret this, fuck. “I’ll- I’ll tell you about your brother. But!” He holds up a finger, as Shouto’s eyes widen. “You have to promise me that you’re not going to go after him, otherwise no dice.”
Shouto frowns. “I want to save him, but I’m not going to run off and-”
“Nope!” He shakes his head, feeling his feathers flutter slightly behind him. “It’s all well and good for you to want to save him, but Shouto, he’s dangerous. I’m not expecting you to go try to track him in the streets-” and that’s partially a lie, he had halfway expected that- “but, I also mean, don’t go trying to contact him on your own at all. He’s dangerous, and unstable, and he will kill you if he thinks it would benefit him.”
Shouto’s mouth opens, clearly forming a protest, and Keigo holds his breath.
But then, the kid sighs, and nods at him. “Okay. That’s- that’s okay. Thank you.”
He nods, before huffing a short breath. “But… not now, though. I need to fix this mess-” he grimaces at the utter chaos his kitchen has become- “and talking about your brother, that could take a while.”
Shouto hums, seemingly accepting this. “Would you like me to come back then? What time works for you?”
Keigo blinks, briefly wondering again if this hasn’t all been some sort of elaborate fever dream, before affecting a half-hearted smile. “Any time, really. I’m on a bit of a break right now, you know, just waiting for my-”
He breaks off, feeling that phantom ache again. His wings will grow back fully, he knows this, but the doctors told him it had been so close, the cells that regrow his quirk having nearly been burned away forever-
He’d nearly lost one of the integral parts of himself that’s never changed, even before the Commission picked him up, and that thought keeps him up in cold sweats at night.
Because even though he knows he could survive without them, his wings aren’t just his quirk, they’re a part of him, a part of his body the way that most people have arms or legs-
And even though he hadn’t lost his wings, his back will always carry the scars, and the doctors say that might make it harder for him in the future-
Inhale. Exhale.
He forces a short laugh, trying to carry on. “Just waiting for the doctor’s orders, you know! But that won’t be for another month or so, so really, come by whenever you’re free. It’s fine, Shouto.”
The kid gives him a slow blink, much like a cat, before nodding. “Okay. Thank you, Hawks.”
His hero name hurts again, but he shrugs it off for now. “It’s no worries, kid.”
He loses track of the rest of the conversation; but, in the next few minutes, Shouto has left his apartment, and Keigo is alone, staring at a melted frying pan and a messy kitchen counter.
Fuck.
What the hell has he gotten himself into?
______________________________
Shouto shows up again a few days later, and hands him a small jar. “Here.”
Keigo takes it, bemused. “Thank you…?”
“It’s burn cream.” He feels his wings suddenly stiffen, and Shouto shuffles in place in his doorway, not quite looking at him. “I know you’ve probably got a lot of professional doctors looking after you, but I just thought- this brand has been really helpful to me, and I thought maybe you could try some.”
Keigo very pointedly does not look at the scar, but instead nods, allowing a bright smile to come to his face. “Thanks, kid.”
Shouto nods very seriously, and follows him inside his house. Once there inside, however, Keigo finds himself… floundering.
What is he supposed to do? To say? If he’s being brutally honest, the longest amount of time he’s ever interacted with a kid Shouto’s age has been Tokoyami, and…
Well, they’d never talked about anything like this.
But, thinking of his intern brings a pang to his chest- he hasn’t heard anything from the boy since everything, and he doesn’t- he doesn’t want to see the disappointment on the kid’s face again-
Keigo shoves those thoughts away, and focuses back on the kid in front of him. “So. How did you want to do this?”
Shouto, to his minor amusement, does not look any more enlightened. “I… I was hoping you could just tell me more about what he’s like? You… you spent a lot of time with him, right? That’s what you said?”
Keigo sighs. He had said something similar, when he’d done the press conference, right before Endeavor had done his press conference. Because the media had needed to hear something, and well-
It’s not like it’s a lie, anyways. He did spend a lot of time with Touya. Far more than most people will ever realize.
Warm skin-on-skin, gentle hands in feathers, soft kisses and a stapled smile-
He shakes his head, pushing his traitorous thoughts away. “Yeah. I did. So you just want me to talk about him?”
“Yes.” Shouto nods, before a slightly unsure look crosses the boy’s stoic expression. “But- I understand if you can’t tell me everything, or don’t want to-”
Keigo interrupts before he’s really thought it through. “You know, he has the same stubborn face that you get.”
Shouto pauses, and stares at him. “… what?”
Keigo huffs, and gestures for the kid to take a seat. No back-tracking now. “You both… when you really want something, you get the same stubborn look in your eyes. Like if the world won’t move for you, you’ll make it move.”
Shouto, thankfully, does not seem offended, merely blinking at him. “Oh. I see.”
“He’s not half as polite about it as you are, though.” His back aches briefly, but Keigo ignores it. “He’s- your brother’s really an ass, you know.”
Shouto snorts. “…I gathered that, yes.”
Keigo breathes a quiet laugh, despite himself. And from there on… well.
It’s not suddenly easy to talk about Touya. But he finds it’s not as hard as he thought, either. He tells Shouto harmless little stories of the simpler times- before the war, before they ever even shared a bed-
It’s not easy. But he does it.
Still, though. There’s far too much for him to get through- he’d been undercover for a fair bit of time, after all. He’s just finished talking about the time he’d found out that Touya hated fish, when Shouto suddenly interrupts him with a quiet cough. “I’m sorry.” The boy shuffles in place. “But I need to get back to the dorms soon. Izuku wanted to study together.”
Keigo breaks off, and glances at the clock.
Shit. Is it that late already?
He shakes his head, and refocuses, raising an eyebrow at that choice of wording. He hadn’t bothered to bring it up before, but he can’t miss this prime opportunity. “You and Midoriya, huh?”
Shouto actually blushes. “We’re friends.”
“Mm-hmm.”
He doesn’t push too far though, choosing instead to lightly rib the kid, as he escorts Shouto to the door. Before the boy leaves, though, Shouto looks at him very seriously. “Thank you, Hawks.”
Keigo pauses.
And feels the scars on his back twinge again. Why is he doing this, he knows that giving this kid any sort of hope for Touya is ultimately futile-
But, he shakes his head lightly, and makes a decision, the weight of the last few hours pressing down on him. “Call me Keigo.”
Shouto stares at him, eyes wide. “What? I couldn’t possibly-”
“Yes, you can, Shouto.” He places a little extra emphasis on the boy’s name. “I’m telling you to, after all.”
It’s a spur of the moment decision. Certainly, they aren’t actually close enough to be using given names, but-
But he doesn’t want to hear his hero name, either. Not… not while they’re talking about Touya, and definitely not right now.
You failed, you murdered a man, you’re not a real hero at all-
And besides. He’s… he’s thinking of himself more as Keigo these days, than he ever has before. Ever since the Commission’s dismantling has more or less left him on his own, since Touya stared at him across a burning room and called his name-
(And- Takami reminds him of his father now more than ever, and he can’t- he doesn’t want to be that.
Plus, it’s not like he’s used the name Takami in, well… ever. His mother had only ever called him Keigo.)
Shouto nods, slowly. “Alright. Thank you, Keigo.”
When the door closes shut behind the boy, Keigo lets out another great sigh.
His back still aches.
______________________________
Shouto’s third visit, two weeks later, is decidedly not as peaceful.
But it is a turning point, of sorts. At least, that’s what Keigo will realize, when he looks back, later on.
Either way, that day, Shouto shows up with red-rimmed eyes and a stony face, and Keigo is instantly alert.
He’d been in the middle of attempting to preen his feathers. It’s hard, because the gland on his back that produces his preening oil had very nearly been burned away, fire-ash-pain-
But it’s not entirely gone, and the doctors say that given enough time, it will regenerate itself, too.
For now, though, it’s barely producing enough oil to fry an egg- nowhere near enough for his wings, even if they aren’t full size yet. So, for now, he’s stuck using a synthetic preening oil. And while it’s not a bad replacement, it has the unfortunate tendency of occasionally sticking his feathers together- it’s made for actual birds. And not even the right type of bird- it's made for waterfowls.
Not raptors.
And even beyond that, moving is hard. The scars on his back are acting up again, not yet fully healed, and still causing shoots of pain every time he tries to twist around to straighten his feathers out.
So, it’s almost a relief when he hears the front door buzzer- a distraction from the hollow pain, with the only person who’s actively bothered talking to him since everything went down.
(Of course, he’s kept in contact with his agency, especially as the end of his break draws closer, and some other heroes have spoken to him on occasion, and there’s his doctors- but this is the most alone he’s ever been in his life.
It’s been both agonizing, and relieving, considering the current state of the world.
But if he’s being brutally honest, he doesn’t truly miss his handlers at all.)
When he opens the door, however, any relief he’d felt vanishes. Keigo hasn’t spent enough time with Shouto to actively recognize all the boy’s expressions (especially since Shouto has so few in the first place) but he is very good at reading people, regardless. And everything about Shouto’s face is screaming trouble.
But he doesn’t comment on it immediately, choosing to play it safe. Whatever this weird little information-arrangement they’ve got going on is, he doesn’t feel comfortable trying to have an overly emotional talk with the kid unless he must.
Especially since he doubts it would go over particularly well.
So, he plays up his cheerful persona instead, his immediate fallback to unknowns. And at first, it’s fine- Shouto takes a seat on his couch, and listens quietly as Keigo launches into the story of one of their recruitment meetings- but as the kid’s face gets darker and darker, he knows the silence won’t last, and the storm is coming whether he likes it or not.
And he’s right. He’s just finished telling how Touya had burned the warehouse down when Shouto lets out a long, low snort. “Of course.”
He pauses. “Hmm?”
The kid’s face flickers through a series of micro-expressions, before settling into a mulish sort of stubbornness.
But, Keigo’s had enough. He presses, just a bit further. “Are you okay?”
Shouto’s mouth opens, before abruptly shutting. Blue-and-gray eyes aren’t quite looking at him when the kid mutters, “I’m fine.”
Keigo pauses. He really doesn’t want to push too far, but at the same time-
Shouto speaks again though, before he can think of what to say. “I just. Didn’t sleep well last night. That’s all.”
Keigo nods, slowly. He knows that feeling, all too well these days.
There’s silence for a few moments, before Shouto breaks it, surprising him. “I’m sorry.” The boy still won’t look at him. “I- I probably shouldn’t have come here today.”
There’s an unsteady wobble in the kid’s voice, and Keigo is on high alert. Oh, no.
But, he tries to inject some cheer into his voice. “Hey, littlest Todoroki! It’s fine, I told you to drop by whenever you were available-”
Shouto doesn’t seem to hear him. “I’m sorry. I just- there wasn’t anywhere else, and I needed to-”
The kid’s voice trails off, but Keigo’s already heard enough.
He licks his lips, which suddenly feel very dry. And dares to move a little bit closer to the kid; not close enough to touch, but just enough that his presence could be a comfort, if needed.
You’re not a comfort to anyone, you hurt and killed-
He pushes that little voice away. Not right now. Feel guilty later.
“Shouto?” He tries to make sure his voice is soft- and fuck, he hopes he’s succeeding, but in his defence, he’s never had to comfort a clearly distressed child before. “What do you mean, you didn’t have anywhere else to go?”
Shouto is quiet for what feels like a little eternity; Keigo’s debating with himself the merits of trying to change the topic, when the boy finally speaks again. “Everywhere else… everyone is always talking about it.”
Keigo feels his wings stiffen.
“I know my classmates and Aizawa-sensei mean well, and so do my… my other siblings, my mother. But I can’t go anywhere these days, without someone bringing up all the things Touya said, or wanting to talk about the possibility of my father’s trial, or-”
Shouto goes quiet again, but Keigo swallows at those last words.
Of course. He should have fucking known.
It’s something that’s only come up in the last week; the world has been slow, adjusting to all the new changes, the ever-continuing downfall of the Hero Commission and the restructuring of society. But at some point, amongst the talk of stripping Endeavor’s hero license, someone had brought up the possibility of an abuse trial leveled against Endeavor, and well-
None of the Todoroki family has indicated one way or another, whether they intend to level any charges yet. But Keigo isn’t surprised to hear that people have been surrounding Shouto daily, with questions about what the kid wants to do.
And that’s probably not even counting how much the media has been discussing it, too.
Shouto speaks again, interrupting his thoughts. “But here, even though we still talk about Touya… it’s my choice. And you- you haven’t tried to push me on talking about my father, or about my family if I don’t want to, and… I don’t know. It’s quiet here.”
Keigo almost chokes on a hysterical laugh, looking around his apartment.
Quiet is one word, he supposes. It’s just him living here. But his apartment is also pretty sparse; he doesn’t have many personal effects, never having found the time before to properly decorate. It’s not a place that he’d think a teenager would really find any sort of… solace in.
(Touya had often teased him about how lifeless his apartment seemed, how he’d never properly decorated it, even though it’s so big-)
He shoves those thoughts away, and makes a choice.
“Well, like I told you, chickling. You’re welcome here whenever. And…” he swallows. “I still don’t agree with you, about saving your brother-” his back twinges “-but you don’t have to come over just for that, if you don’t want to. It’s just me here, so… if you need a quiet place to be, you can come here. I mean it.”
And… he does mean it.
He- maybe he’s a terrible hero and maybe he’s never properly connected with another person in his life (aside from Touya, a traitorous voice whispers), but-
But seeing this kid here, distressed… he can’t help but reach out, anyways.
Shouto looks at him with wide, slightly wet eyes.
And what comes out, is a quiet, hoarse, “chickling?”
Keigo blinks.
And coughs, as he realizes exactly what he just said. “Sorry! It just slipped, you know sometimes I’ll call my sidekicks chicks for the fun of it, or-”
“No.” Shouto pauses, seeming to think about it, before nodding once and wiping those eyes. “I like it.”
Keigo snorts, despite himself, and reaches out a hand to ruffle the kid’s hair. “Alright then, little chick.” Shouto’s face scrunches up, and Keigo breaks into full-on laughter, feeling more amused than he has in… weeks.
Shouto interrupts his laughter with a solemn question. “Does that make you the mother hen?”
Keigo chokes. This little shit.
(He kind of likes the name though, if he’s being honest.)
But he also needs this conversation to end immediately, having reached untold new depths of emotion that he’s not fully comfortable with yet- plus, Shouto seems to be feeling better now. So, he casts about his apartment, and feels his brain light up. “Hey, you said you weren’t great at cooking, right?”
Shouto doesn’t seem too nonplussed at the non-sequitur, nodding slowly. “Yes…?”
Keigo shrugs, waving a wing towards his kitchen. “Well, it’s getting late. And if you want to head back to the dorms for dinner that’s fine- but, you’re also welcome to stay with me for dinner.”
Shouto hums, before frowning. “But… you said that you couldn’t cook either.”
“Exactly.” Keigo nods firmly. “Which, by the way, is something your brother was always bemoaning of me- but that’s not the point. Why don’t we try to figure something out together?”
The kid squints at him. “This feels like the blind leading the blind.”
Keigo throws his head back and cackles.
(They end up nearly burning his kitchen down.
And, subsequently ordering takeout. KFC is where it’s at.)
______________________________
After that, Shouto comes around far more frequently.
Not every day. But, the sound of his door buzzer becomes more familiar when he’s in the middle of paperwork, or preparing to go back to work, or finding some other method of amusing himself with all his free time.
(He’s begun to online shop, with the purpose of filling out his house with various knickknacks, random trinkets and even some plants to make it seem more… liveable.
Not because of his memories of Touya- but after their conversation, if Shouto’s going to be over more often, well…
Why not? He wants to make it more approachable for the teenager. Besides, he lives here too, and-
And it would be nice, to make his house feel more like a home.)
They don’t always talk about Touya now, and if Keigo’s honest, he welcomes the change. Talking about Touya… it’s still not easy for him. Especially when he hasn’t actually told Shouto yet about how… involved he and Touya were.
But instead, sometimes the kid will come over now to do homework. Or, to mess around on Keigo’s state of the art gaming system (which, frankly, he’d rarely ever used himself, and Touya had actually played on it more than he ever did). Or, they’ll continue their saga of attempting to learn to cook.
They’re both still terrible at it, though.
Things are… different. It’s a change. And while he never thought he’d be in the situation of a teenager coming to him for a calm place to rest, Keigo can’t say he minds.
But, time tends to pass quicker than expected; and soon, it’s time for Keigo to go back to full-time work.
And nervous would be an understatement, for how he’s feeling.
Outwardly, not much has changed. He’s still the number two hero. His entire agency is waiting for him to return; they’ve already put out the announcement. But…
He’s not blind, to the way his image has been tarnished. While the media circus hasn’t focused on him, talk of how he was a spy, of who his father is, of how he murdered a man have… definitely been making the rounds. And while he started this spy gig thinking that he’d be okay, with tarnishing himself so that everyone else could be alright…
He failed that, didn’t he? And still ended up corrupted.
You killed a man you’re a terrible hero-
His hero name still feels… off, when he thinks about it.
And none of this is even counting the fact that while his doctors have finally cleared him for full-time work again, though with the provision that he still needs to take care of the scars, his back and wings are…
His wings are fine. They’re fully grown again, and the doctors say that they’ll return to their normal regrowth time of a few days when depleted, now that the roots have fully healed. His preening gland, too, is almost back at full capacity.
But that doesn’t change the fact that he can still feel them burning, and that his nightmares are getting worse-
And that his scars still ache. They’re better than they were, he can move much easier now but sometimes they still just hurt-
Fire burning feathers pain-
Inhale. Exhale.
He’s staring down at the all-clear paperwork from his doctors when the familiar sound of the buzzer comes. With a sigh, he moves to let the kid in. “Hey, Shouto.”
“Hello Keigo.” The teenager holds up a small box. “Bakugou made cupcakes today. I brought you one.”
“Aww, thanks chick!” He takes it with a grin, feeling his mood lighten just a little bit. “So, did you want to talk about Touya, or…?”
“I think I’ll just work for a little while, if that’s okay.” Shouto frowns. “I have a paper due soon.”
Keigo whistles through his teeth. “Good luck.”
They fall into a companionable silence- Shouto starts to work in the living room, while Keigo sits close by in the kitchen, and resumes… staring at his paperwork.
The cupcake is delicious, something filled with chocolate-and-chili, but it’s not enough to distract him from the ever-looming deadlines upon him, the fact that he’s expected back at work within three days.
Fuck.
Eventually, he’s interrupted from his daze by the sound of quiet footsteps. Shouto comes into the kitchen, holding a closed laptop. “I finished my paper.”
“Nice!” He raises an eyebrow, trying to appear happier than he feels. “What would you like…”
“I came to ask if you wanted to play Mario Kart.” Shouto shrugs. “Also, I heard from Tokoyami earlier that you’re going back to work soon. Congratulations.”
Keigo blinks in confusion, at his former intern’s name- he still hasn’t heard from Tokoyami at all, but the kid still…?
But then he freezes, as Shouto’s words actually hit him.
He swallows- of course the kid would have heard about it. “Right. Thanks. Looking forward to it, you know?” He shakes his wings for a little emphasis. “Mario Kart, you said?”
But Shouto’s frowning at him. “Are you okay?”
Mentally, Keigo curses.
Shouto, for all that the kid is somewhat socially inept, is surprisingly good at noticing things at the most inconvenient of times.
So, he tries to play it off. “Fine, you know. Just- not looking forward to all the paperwork again.”
The kid hums. “That’s fair.” Blue-and-gray eyes are solemn as they turn to him. “Still, I’ll be happy to see you back to work, even if it means I can’t come by as often.” Something about that phrase twinges in the back of his mind, but Shouto continues before he can figure it out. “I’ve always thought of you as a very good hero.”
And… shit.
Keigo can’t help the ragged, pained laugh that tears its way out of his throat. “Even now?”
…Fuck.
He did not mean to say that out loud.
But it’s too late to take the words back, as Shouto’s eyes have narrowed. “What do you mean?”
Keigo swallows. And drops the too-cheerful façade, feeling his wings flutter restlessly, feeling his back ache. “After everything with the war, Shouto. After everything with your brother, my father, with- with Twice.” The name hurts to say aloud. “You still think I’m a good hero?”
He knows he’s not. Even though his rank hasn’t dropped, even though no one’s tried to press any charges against him for what he did (because technically, under the circumstances, current laws consider it justified violence, he still-)
You murdered a man you failed your mission-
He got so many people hurt, all because he wasn’t good enough, and then he killed one of the only people who’d ever been genuinely kind to him.
Shouto interrupts his self-shaming spiral. “Yes, I do. I’m not going to judge you for what happened.”
…What.
No, seriously. What.
The words rip out of him, and he has completely lost control of this conversation. “How- how can you not?”
He doesn’t get it. He can’t sleep properly at night anymore, his back aches, and he’s seen what the media, what everyone has been saying about him-
“I guess, first, it’s because… I don’t know if you knew this about my father, but he has the highest villain kill rate of any hero.” Keigo swallows, but nods. The kid continues. “For years, I’ve watched my father come home from fights, and sometimes, in those fights, I’d know that he’d killed at least one, sometimes more people. It’s not right. It shouldn’t happen. But the reality of the world is that sometimes, heroes kill villains just as villains kill heroes, and I accepted that years ago. So… what happened with Twice, it doesn’t shock me, first of all.”
Keigo interrupts. “But- shock or not, Shouto, that’s still… I still messed up, failed my mission…” He trails off, unsure.
What is he even trying to say? To argue for, here?
Shouto actually raises an eyebrow. “You’re one person. I don’t think it’s fair to argue that you failed your entire mission, because you weren’t the only hero fighting there, plus, when I heard about the Commission’s double-agent plan, I thought it was a stupid plan, anyways.”
Keigo chokes.
“I mean what were they thinking, sending in the number two hero alone? But, anyways.” The kid sighs. “To continue, it’s also because… well, I wasn’t there, was I?” Mismatched eyes blink slowly. “I wasn’t trapped there in that room, with you and my brother and Twice. I don’t know what the situation was. And I… I don’t want to judge you just based on what Touya released to the world. It feels wrong, to say that everything was as black and white as he’s tried to make it seem, so there’s that too.”
He sighs, feeling the guilt strangle him again. “Shouto. I did kill Twice. Regardless of how the video shows it… I still- I still killed him. It’s not wrong to judge me for that.”
You killed him you murdered a man-
“Maybe.” Shouto shrugs. “But then… finally, I guess it’s because I understand.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Last I checked, little chick, you weren’t the mass-murderer in your family-”
“Technically, I have two mass-murderers in my family. I know for a fact that my father’s kill count is much higher than Touya’s.”
He snorts despite himself. “Fair enough.”
“But no, that’s not what I mean.” Shouto sighs. “I just… for the rest of your life, people are going to judge you.”
He huffs another humourless laugh. It’s not as though this knowledge is a surprise, he knows how the media game works-
“No matter how many people you save, this will always hang over you. They’ll look at the scar Touya left on your face, and they’ll remember how you got it, how you killed a man. And they’ll know who your father is too, now, and they’ll judge you for that. Even though you had nothing to do with his crimes, they’ll still judge you.”
Keigo swallows, touching the raised flesh on his chin.
Truth be told, he’s barely thought about his facial scar at all. He’s been far more focused on his back, on the way the scars there ache-
But Shouto’s not wrong. While he’s not as vain about his looks as people sometimes believe, he knows that the facial scar over the bottom of his chin is still visible, and people will see it and judge it. “Where are you going with this-”
“And for the rest of my life, they’ll judge me.” Shouto’s voice gets quieter now, but no less firm. “They’ll look at the scar on my face, and thanks to Touya, they’ll all know about the- about what my parents did. They’ll judge me for who my father is, for his sins. And they’ll judge me for who my brother is. They’ll wonder about the fact that so much of where Touya went wrong can be traced back to how my father treated him, and they’ll wonder if, maybe, I might snap and do the same one day. It wouldn’t matter if I became the best hero in the world, saved millions- they will always judge me, now.”
….Fuck.
Keigo feels his heart break, just a little bit.
He moves closer, wrapping his wing around the kid’s slim shoulders. They’ve never properly hugged or anything, but it feels… appropriate, right now. “Shouto…”
“So, I guess what I’m trying to say is- I understand. And I’m not going to judge you for any of it.”
And… fuck.
His eyes feel strangely hot now, and he blinks forcefully, trying to shove that feeling away.
“Besides, you’ve always seemed- kind.” Shouto nods decisively. “My father has never taken the time to get to know his fans the way you have, and even now- you’ve let me into your home with no real reason to do so, and unlike almost everyone else in my life, you haven’t tried to force me to talk about- about things I don’t want to talk about. I think you’re a good hero, because- even though you might have made mistakes, you’re kind.”
And now he’s really going to cry. Shit.
He’s never- he’s never thought of himself as kind before, but-
But if this kid can see him like that, anyways, maybe-
He pushes that thought aside for now and tries to wipe his eyes discreetly, before choking out the quiet words. “Damn, you really don’t play fair, chickling.”
Shouto blinks. “What?”
“Never mind.” He shakes his head, feeling himself smile despite it all. “You know, I think that’s the most words I’ve ever heard you say in one setting.”
The kid scowls at him. “Shut up.”
Keigo laughs, and to his own surprise, he actually feels like he means it. “So. Mario Kart, you said?”
Shouto huffs. “I’m going to kick your ass.”
______________________________
Shouto does, in fact, kick his ass.
Keigo stares at the screen in disbelief. “How did you make that turn-”
“Izuku’s been teaching me.” The kid sounds very smug, too smug, and Keigo can’t resist the opportunity.
“Midoriya’s been teaching you lots of things, hasn’t he? Seems like-”
The little shit elbows him in the side, hard. Keigo’s too busy laughing to really mind.
But afterwards, Shouto turns to him, face suddenly serious again. “You know, I think you could try something new.”
Keigo raises his eyebrow, confused by the subject change. “What?”
Shouto chews on a lip, before looking him in the eye. “I’ve been thinking… I’ve only told this to Izuku, but my siblings and I, we think we’ll go ahead with pressing charges against our father.”
Keigo goes still, watching the kid carefully. “…Oh?”
If he’d been told this before the war, or even a month ago, he probably would have had more reservations, but-
But he’s spent enough time with Shouto by now, to know that whatever the kid decides, Keigo will have his back. He’s seen the media circus unfold, and he knows that even though the League has gone to ground, hasn’t been seen since the war, Touya is undoubtedly still out there, watching this too.
And while he’s loath to agree with Touya on sheer principle alone…
Endeavor may be trying to get better, but the damage done is too great to be ignored.
That much has become obvious, after all the time he’s spent with Shouto; and from the memories that he still has of Touya.
Shouto nods, shaking him out of his thoughts. “Yes. And when I told Izuku, he understood my reservations about… the media. But he suggested that maybe, I could try something new with myself.”
Keigo tilts his head. “Like…?”
“Something to distract them. Give them something else to talk about. Like- the way he put it, it would be a sort of fuck-you, to show that I’m not intimidated by what they’ll say. To show that even though I know what happened, what’s going on, I’m still going to keep trying my best, no matter their- their judgement.”
He’s tempted to laugh at the fuck-you, but instead he swallows, Shouto’s words from earlier still ringing in his ears.
“He suggested that maybe I could… change my hair or something.”
Keigo blinks. “Huh?”
Shouto shrugs. “Just something small. And I hadn’t decided either way, but I just remembered it, and… you know that people are going to judge you, question you anyways. Why not try something new?”
…That’s actually a good point.
He runs a hand through his hair, feeling the fluffy locks bounce gently. He’s never actually changed his hairstyle- partly because his hair is impossible to work with, but also because… well, he’s just too lazy to.
But… something new.
He eyes the kid. “You said you hadn’t decided yet?”
Shouto raises an eyebrow. “Yes….?”
Keigo grins. “I’ll do it if you do it, chickling.”
______________________________
His head feels… lighter.
That’s the first thing he thinks, as he runs his hands along the sides of his brand-new, freshly shaved undercut.
Looking at it in the mirror, the stylist has truly done an amazing job. His hair, usually so unruly, is still wild; but that’s centered in a halo around the top of his head, almost like an angel. The sides have been shorn short, however, and the back as well. Strands of the longer hair on top are still falling down to tickle at his neck though, and-
Dare he say it, but he looks hot.
He grins despite himself, feeling his feathers puff up with pride, and turns to look at the chair next to him, where Shouto’s stylist is also just finishing up.
Unlike him, when they’d decided to get their hair done today after their talk yesterday, Shouto has gone a different direction. Instead of a haircut, a quirk has been used to lengthen Shouto’s hair.
Now, it falls to almost the kid’s waist, a shining silken curtain of red and white. The stylist has also redone Shouto’s bangs, so that they’re a bit longer now, and skewed towards the right side of the teenager’s face; though, some locks of hair still hang down on the left side. And last, currently half the kid’s hair is pulled up on top, twisted into a red-and-white braid at the crown of Shouto’s head that falls down to hang over the hair that’s still loose over the back.
It’s a gorgeous style, and the kid looks almost like some sort of fae creature, delicate features only highlighted by the new hairdo.
Behind Shouto, the kid’s stylist seems to agree, looking very pleased with themself. “My, but you just got all the good luck with the genes, didn’t you?”
Shouto blinks. “Thank you…?”
Keigo snorts. “How’re you feeling?”
“Good, I think.” A small smile comes over the boy’s face. “I… I like it. It feels nice.”
“And you look stunning.” The stylist interjects again. “Why not take a picture, share this beauty with the world, no?” They nod meaningfully towards him. “I, for one, am looking forward to your return, Hawks.”
Hearing his hero name causes the now-familiar feeling of guilt to rise up, as his back twinges, but-
But oddly enough, it doesn’t seem as bad as it has, over the past weeks. How… how odd.
He’s shaken out of that thought, though, as the stylist’s meaning hits him. They’re talking about his social media accounts.
Over the past weeks, he has more or less, completely abandoned them. Where before, he’d tried to post something at least once every few days, to keep people entertained, in the wake of the war he’s completely forgotten about them.
Now though… he wonders.
These spontaneous haircuts were meant to be something new, a fuck-you in the wake of his return. And… what better way to kick things off, then by finally posting something again?
He pulls out his phone, and wiggles it in Shouto’s direction. “How about it, little chick? Selfies for the road?”
Shouto hums. “My friends say I’m terrible at selfies.” Before Keigo can think of a response, the boy continues. “Let’s do it.”
Keigo snorts, and behind them, the stylist starts to cackle.
It doesn’t take too long to find an angle that he likes, and arrange them both as fitting. Shouto is… in fact, obviously inexperienced at the selfie, face not quite forming a smile; but, Keigo smiles enough for the both of them.
He posts it to his Instagram, with a string of smiley face emojis, before turning off the notifications and inhaling slowly.
He feels… not new exactly, but-
But better. Better, about going back to work soon.
After that, they’re all ready to go; but, before they exit the relative privacy of the studio, he moves to put his phone back in his pocket, and feels his hand brush against something small. And he remembers then, the extra little surprise he’d brought with him today. “Also… before you go back to the dorms, I have something for you.”
He holds out his hand to the kid. Sitting in it is a shiny, hastily-made-earlier-this-morning key.
Seeing Shouto’s wide eyes, he hastens to explain. “It’s for my apartment. For you, and I’ll also tell you the number code to get in, later.”
It’s something he’d thought of last night, after the kid had gone back to the dorms.
He’d been thinking about haircuts, and remembering everything Shouto had said (and crying a little too, but no one needs to know-) when he’d remembered how Shouto had mentioned not being able to come by as often anymore.
And then he’d realized that technically, the kid wasn’t wrong. With Keigo gone to work more often now, Shouto won’t be able to just get in anytime. But… that thought didn’t sit right with him.
Shouto called his apartment a quiet place. And Keigo has done his best over the past few weeks to make it more hospitable than it’s ever been.
He doesn’t want the teenager to lose that safe place.
Shouto finally speaks. “Keigo… I can’t- I mean-”
“Yes, you can.” He shrugs. “Just because I’m going to be back at work, I don’t want you to no longer have a place to go, if you need to get away from everything. So, here.”
Shouto’s face races through a complicated series of micro-expressions.
And then, to Keigo’s shock, the kid leans forward, and wraps him in a hesitant, but tight hug. “…Thank you.”
Keigo swallows the lump in his throat. And gently, wraps his arms around the teenager, feeling his wings come up around them protectively. “You’re welcome, Shouto.”
Thank you, too, he thinks.
For helping me learn how to be a person again.