Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dedicated to the firefighters who evacuated us during the Woolsey Fire. Y'all are the real heroes ❤️

-----

Keigo hates fire calls. He really, really does. Fire is his natural enemy! The flames go through his feathers like college boys through cheap sake, and the way heated air throws off his flying? Far too many YouTube compilations exist of him approaching an inferno only to veer wildly off course because of freaking hot air balloon physics.

Also the soot. In every vane of his feathers. God, the cleaning and preening he has to do to get it out is a nightmare.

Which isn’t to say he won’t go! He’s just saying: send Backdraft. 

“Are you sure I’ll be of any use?” he asks plaintively into his ear mic, powerful wings already flapping toward the column of dark smoke rising in the distance. On the other end of the line his Sidekick Ivine - Quirk: Whipcord Vine Fingers - sighs. 

“It’s standard procedure, Hawks. They only have one truck on site, and until the other one gets there, you’re gonna be waiting in the wings.”

“I see what you did there,” the twenty-one-year-old says lightly, a reluctant smile pulling at his lips. “Using bird puns to make me chill out.”

“Is it working?”

“A bit,” Keigo concedes, eyes already able to pick out the burning building in the distance. “Sitrep?”

“Engine 69 on scene, with Engine 34 en route. EMTs from University also en route, should arrive in the next seven to eight minutes.”

Keigo winces at the hospital mention. Fukuoka University Hospital was their major critical care hospital in the city. Never a good sign when they were the go-to in an emergency.

“Are casualties confirmed?”

“Two so far. We’re leaving them to emergency services, though. Their injuries need professional attention, according to the firefighters on scene.”

“Copy,” Keigo sighs, the scent of smoke beginning to sting his nose and eyes. It looks like an apartment fire in one of the older neighborhoods south of Kanayama station. Unfortunately, all those apartments were connected, so if one went up, it was likely the others weren’t far behind.

“Anything else?” he asks, even as the column of smoke grows. He can actually see the flames and flashing lights now.

“Engine 34 just reported getting stuck behind a car accident. No major injuries, but cars are blocking the highway. They’re being rerouted.”

“Understood. Put me on scene.”

“Will do.”

With that, Keigo tucks his knees to his chest and drops his feet toward the ground, hot air buffeting his skin like a sauna until he lands just inside the barricades. 

“Chief, chief, chief,” he mutters to himself, looking around the scene as firefighters race across the scene with unerring precision and energy, pulling people from windows, managing hoses, swarming up ladders. It’s a dangerous dance, and Keigo can’t help but appreciate the level of discipline and ferocity on display.

He spies the chief near the front of the engine, a comforting hand resting on a sooty lady’s shoulder, and jogs that way, making sure not to get in the way as men haul victims from the building one after another.

“Building two is fully involved!” the fire chief hollers into his walkie-talkie. “This lady here says her neighbors are still inside. Two females, third floor, left side.”

Keigo’s eyebrows go up as he glances at the building the chief is staring at. ‘Fully involved’, he knows, means engulfed. Too much fire, smoke, and danger for firefighters to approach until they have hoses to knock the fire down.

From what Keigo can see, the building next to it is the one the firefighters are focused on, evacuating residents and working to stop the spread to the next one in the row. It’s only partially aflame, and is therefore the one that they can realistically rescue people from. And with only one engine on the scene, that means the blazing apartment will be triaged as unsalvageable...

Shit, those women are gonna be goners if the other engine doesn’t get here fast, Keigo realizes grimly. Even as he thinks it though, a firefighter steps up to the chief’s side, adjusting a mask over his face.

Which is… just about the only equipment he’s wearing. He’s got the baggy firefighter pants on, held up by a pair of black suspenders, a skin-tight navy blue shirt, gloves, and a helmet. An oxygen tank rests on his back, hooked up to his mask, and a heavy-looking axe is strapped to his waist. He leans down to the chief, points over his shoulder at the apartment the women are trapped in, and receives a nod. By the time Keigo arrives at the chief’s side, the firefighter has taken off in a sprint toward the house.

Instinctively, Keigo calls out, “Wait!” but he’s far too late. The man hits the door and is swallowed by the rush of flames that bellow out in the sudden oxygen stream.

Wide-eyed, Keigo makes to follow after - to stop the idiot who’s running in with half his gear - but is halted by the solid thump of a hand on his shoulder. Turning, he sees it’s the fire chief.

“Chief Nakamura,” the man introduces himself, sweaty forehead glistening under the rim of his helmet. “That’s our runner. He’s got a fire quirk, so don’t panic.”

Keigo’s wings quiver at his back, the instinct to save save save still coursing through his veins, heightening his senses to almost ridiculous degrees.

“Pro Hero Hawks,” he says succinctly. “Anything I can help with, just point and I’ll go. Not much use against fires, but can do flyovers, transports, and hospital runs. Is that guy gonna be alright?”

The chief nods, a grim smile wrinkling his craggy face. 

“Touya’s pretty damn good at this. Don’t you worry.”

Keigo purses his lips, eyeing the flaming building. It looks fit to collapse. “You said he has a fire quirk? What if the ceiling caves in on him though?”

The chief dips his head, dropping his voice so the lady still kneeling on the ground won’t hear. “Always a risk. In cases like these, the aim is speed. Touya risks falling debris but gains maneuverability. Not something we endorse necessarily, but if he doesn’t risk it, those women won’t be making it out at all.”

That makes sense, kind of. Keigo himself often flies headfirst into dangerous situations - active shooters, unknown quirk rampages, hold-ups, you name it - relying on just his speed and his training to get him out alive. The number of times he’s been chewed out for leaving his sidekicks behind in the face of danger is too high to count. 

Which means he’s being a bit hypocritical right now. This guy - Touya - isn’t doing anything that a normal hero doesn’t do a dozen times a day.

But he’s not a hero, Keigo thinks, wings twitching as another plume of flames bursts from the attic of the building Touya had run into.

“Hang tight here,” the chief says, nodding to Keigo. “We’ll call you if we need you.” Then he’s guiding the injured woman over to the ambulance that’s just pulled up on the scene.

Keigo can do little but watch as the firefighters work to put out the fire in the first apartment while keeping an eye on the second, where Touya still hasn’t reappeared. 

It kind of sucks, being on this side of an emergency.

Suddenly, a window on the second floor shatters outward around a violent axe swing, smoke rushing into the air from the new opening. Keigo’s off the ground before he can even think, wings sweeping down and propelling him toward the window.

Before he can get close, something in the house explodes, and the burst of hot air that rushes out sends him spiraling backward, heart fluttering at the base of his throat. Firemen yell on the ground, redirecting hoses toward the house that’s belching out flames like a volcano. Chaos, heat, sparks - it’s all so fucking much.

Blinking through sweat and smoke that stings his vision, Keigo refocuses on the window where he’d seen Touya’s axe break through, only to see the fireman scaling down what appeared to be a couple of sheets tied together, one woman clinging to his front like a koala while the other was draped across his back. Even at a distance, Keigo can see the fireman’s biceps bulge with the strain - can see the way the makeshift rope shudders under their weight.

Faster than thought, feathers zip out from his back, lifting the woman off the fireman’s back just as they slide the last few feet to the ground. Through his feathers, Keigo can hear Touya’s grunt as he pulls the woman in front of him into his arms, lifting her up and running from the building.

Just in time too. The building gives one horrible groan, and the whole fucking ceiling collapses, taking with it the second story. The window the fireman had knocked out collapses along with the rest of the wall with a violent spray of glass and splinters.

Keigo watches with wide eyes as his feathers deliver the coughing woman into his arms, her whole frame shaking with apparent smoke inhalation. Still, she looks around as if confused by her current airborne status.

“Wh-where?” she chokes out as Keigo catches her. “M-my sis-?” Coughing cracks through her words and Keigo immediately begins walking them toward the paramedics. 

“Don’t you worry, ma’am,” he assures. “A nice fireman has your sister. Look, here he comes now!” 

Sure enough, Touya is jogging their way, also heading toward the ambulance. The woman in his arms is small, her bone-thin legs sticking out awkwardly from her nightdress.

Touya adjusts his grip so he can pull his mask down around his throat, exposing his sweaty face to the flashing lights around them. His gaze zeroes in on Keigo.

“You a hero?” he asks sharply. Startled - how long has it been since someone hadn’t recognized Hawks? - Keigo nods. Touya’s gaze narrows.

“Talk with me afterward,” he demands, before pushing past Keigo toward the paramedics. Keigo rushes to follow, confused and a little overwhelmed.

Fire is not his element. It never has been.

Fortunately, more ambulances arrived during the dramatic rescue. The two women, who Keigo learns are Naomi and Meiomi, are delivered to the waiting EMTs while Touya rattles off the relevant parts of the situation. 

Like the fact that he found the two of them by the stairs, desperately trying to get Meiomi’s wheelchair down because the elevator was broken. Had been for months.

Keigo has an inkling, then, why Touya wants to see him.

Still, both of them have to wait until the fires are put out, and that takes another hour or so, even after the second engine shows up. 

The first apartment is mostly under control, but the second that’d partially collapsed is harder to put out and lets off more than one explosion. Near as the chief can figure - from what Keigo overhears - someone had been keeping spare propane tanks in their apartment for their food truck business.

Stupid, Keigo thinks, raking a gloved hand down his sweaty face.

“That was insanely stupid,” Touya says aloud, not holding back one iota. Keigo doesn’t know whether to laugh or cringe.

The fireman is off again shortly afterward, assisting Engine 34 as they attempt to prevent the third apartment, which caught fire during the first explosion, from becoming involved. 

It’s a long fight. The third apartment is quickly evacuated, along with the neighboring apartment. And the firemen work relentlessly in the face of explosions, heat, and unpredictable circumstances.

Keigo helps where he can, feathers lifting water-logged hoses over obstacles and assisting with clearing debris for better access. He also calls upon his years of PR training and makes the rounds to the displaced victims, walking them through what their next steps will be and consoling them through their losses.

It doesn't feel like enough, but he gets several "thank you's" from both the civilians and the first responders.

In between, Keigo’s gaze can’t help but follow Touya, watching as he alternates between taking the most dangerous risks and calling back and forth with his crew when they work on a particular problem. Seeing the well-drilled teamwork at play… is a little hypnotic.

And by the end, Touya’s standing there in the ashes, sweat streaking his muscular arms while he pours a bottle of water over his dark hair, plastering it to his forehead. Keigo watches as actual steam rises from the fireman’s skin.

Is it just me, or is it hot in here? Keigo thinks, face feeling unnaturally warm even in the wake of a literal apartment fire.

Several firemen stop by to pat Touya on the back, grinning and laughing as the adrenaline crashes through each one of them after the successful call. Touya grins back, shaking out his sopping hair and running a gloved hand through the mess, smearing wet soot over his forehead.

Keigo’s knees go a little weak at the sight.

Around him, men pack in ladders and re-roll the hoses. Firemen holler directions at each other while the chief talks with both the police and the news crews on sight. 

“Any preliminary suspicions about what started the fire?” One reporter was asking the chief. Nakamura rubs the back of his head.

“The fire inspectors will be here in the morning to help determine the cause,” he says. “As of now, we’re thinking a kitchen fire in building one that got out of control, spreading to building two and three.”

Touya’s head snaps around, his eyes narrowing at the pronouncement. Then his eyes catch on Keigo and any remaining merriment in his expression fades away into something like… calculation. 

It’s not hot. Not hot at all. Especially when Touya turns toward him with lithe ease, each step full of confidence and swagger until he’s right in front of the hero.

“Got a minute?” he asks, jerking his chin further away from the crowds. Keigo nods somewhat dumbly, noting for the first time how blue the man’s eyes are. How freaking toned his chest is under that skintight shirt.

Not fair. Firemen being hot is supposed to be a cliche, Keigo groans to himself.

Still, he follows Touya, knowing the topic at hand will sober him up quickly enough. 

Sure enough, the second they’re out of earshot, Touya turns on his heel and crosses his arms, biceps bulging tantalizingly as he glares down at Keigo.

“You’re a hero, so I’m gonna let you deal with this,” he starts, nodding his head toward the second building. “Was talking to Naomi and Meiomi in the ambulance, and according to them, the apartment started evacuating only minutes after the smoke alarm went off. If the elevator had been working, neither of them would have still been stuck when the fire got bad.”

Keigo chews on his lip for a moment. “I can make a case that the elevator should have been repaired sooner, but the argument will be that you aren’t supposed to use an elevator in a fire anyway. Supposed to take the stairs.”

Touya tilts his head, sweat trickling down his neck. “Landlords also aren’t supposed to falsely promise a first floor apartment to a handicapped person then renege when the tenants get there.”

Bushy eyebrows raise. “Now that I can make a case of, especially since the change put them in mortal danger. Do they have the original contract with them?” Keigo glances over Touya’s shoulder toward the ambulances hopefully, but catches Touya’s grimace out of the corner of his eye instead. Without a word, the firefighter nods toward the burnt husk of an apartment complex.

“Ah.” Keigo rubs the back of his head in consternation. “That’ll be a bit harder then.”

Touya’s cool eyes go half-lidded. “If it’s too much for you, just say so.”

Keigo’s wings twitch at the challenge. He’s not sure what Touya’s beef is with him or heroes or whatever, but there’s no way he’s just gonna let those two women suffer more than they already have. 

And on a more petty level, he’s a little miffed that a person he finds so attractive is being antagonistic toward him. Not that it’s never happened before, but it makes him wanna go all out on a case that would normally be delegated to his legal team.

“It’s not too much,” he says with a tight smile, holding out a hand for Touya to shake. “I’ll be by the station for your statements tomorrow if you don’t mind.”

Touya’s own eyebrows raise as he takes Keigo’s hand in his, squeezing it firmly as they shake. 

“Believe it when I see it, hero.”

----

Touya watches as Hawks flies away, head tilted and eyebrows pinched thoughtfully. 

His experience with heroes hasn't always been stellar. Generally speaking, they looked at first responders as the clean-up crew, and not as the - well, first responders. 

And that's not even addressing his more personal dealings with his doofus father, who couldn't seem to help but sleight Touya's career at every turn, despite being the one who suggested it. 

Hawks, though... Touya looks down at his hand where the hero had gripped it firmly. Recalls the fire in the man's eyes that had nothing to do with the inferno they'd just snuffed.

Any other hero, and Touya might doubt their promises to follow up on a case that was frankly below their paygrade. This guy, however.

Touya clenches his sooty fist, a slight smirk pulling at his lips.

This guy might be interesting.

Art is a commission from @Sharl0ck. Please do not redistribute, repost, or share to other sites.

Chapter Text

Touya’s not his most alert first thing in the morning. Coffee can only do so much against the brutality of a five-thirty date with the gym after a late-night call. Still, he dutifully chugs espresso and hopes for a miracle as Toshiro cranks up the jams and passes him his dumbbells.

“Twenty reps to start?” he asks around a wide yawn, rolling his shoulders to get them used to the weight. Toshiro offers him a brilliant grin (literally brilliant since his quirk is light-up teeth) and bobs his head in affirmation along with the beat of the song.

It’s ‘Burning Up’ from BTS, which is a favorite around the station and has Touya shaking his head at Toshiro’s predictability. 

Touya feels his shoulders moving to the music too and after ten more seconds of guitar riffs, he and Toshiro drop to the ground in plank position, hands braced on the grips of the dumbbells rather than the floor. Holding that position, they begin their rows, pulling one weight to their chests at a time while balancing on the other weight.

It’s absolutely heinous to do first thing in the morning, but Touya’s used to it by now, letting his muscles work out the lactic acid from all the exercise of the night before. It’s just a part of the morning routine and it’s infinitely preferable to the types of training he’s had to do in the past. At least here the ‘burn’ is purely metaphorical. 

From there, they flow into knee-to-elbow plank crunches, pull-ups, then Russian twists, and Touya’s abs are beginning to ache in earnest. Even so, the music is popping, the sweat running down Touya’s skin feels energizing, and the coffee is finally starting to kick in. In short, it’s the worst part of a workout to interrupt.

But interrupt Akio does, popping his head in with a horrified gasp.

“Ahh, you guys were supposed to wait for me! We have a post to make today and you know the fans like seeing our resident pretty boy the most!” 

Touya does the most mature thing he can think of and makes a kissy face at Akio at the peak of his sit-up. 

"That pretty boy enough for you?" he asks facetiously. 

“Ohh, do that again!” Akio exclaims, yanking his phone out of one of his baggy pockets. “Let your fan club have some material for their fanfictions.”

Touya is mid-eye-roll and also mid-sit-up when the words register. He freezes in a half crunch, his nose scrunched in something like mortified awe.

“There are fanfictions about me?”

Akio grins unrepentantly as he keeps his phone trained on Touya. “Hear that soot gremlins? Touya needs some reading recommendations, which you can send to our TigTog @engine69fukuoka -”

He’s cut off when Touya throws his very sweaty towel directly at his head, which slaps him with a disgusting spray that has Akio fake-gagging in dismay. It makes for a hilarious end to the video, though, so Akio grins and cuts off the recorder, offering a thumbs up to the two firemen before fleeing to go edit and post. Touya shakes his head while Toshiro laughs, jangling the barbell he’s meant to be pressing. 

“Oh, you think that’s funny?” Touya mocks, making his way to the weight stand. “Well, I think your wussy ass could add another fifty pounds to either side, how ‘bout you?”

Toshiro’s laughing protests are music to Touya’s ears.

----

Keigo’s late-night had turned into an all-nighter fueled by energy drinks and spite as he researched avenues of recourse for the two sisters who’d found themselves trapped in the blaze the night before. He was just fortunate that Akira, one of his attorneys on staff, was a night owl - literally, owl quirk, and no his agency does not have a bird thing - who was more than willing to help him research the rights and duties of landlords and tenants.

When asked why he was so invested, Keigo’s reply had been a bright smile backed by sharp wings. 

“Oh, you know me. Can’t resist a challenge.”

Akira’s feathered eyebrow had lifted, but he hadn’t pursued the matter, letting Keigo stew in his half petty, half noble motivations.

Because A) he does want to help the ladies receive compensation for the damages caused to them by their landlord’s negligence and B) he kinda wants to rub it in Touya’s face.

Which is why he’s got a thick sheaf of papers packed into the backpack strapped between his wings as he coasts toward Firehouse 69 - and seriously who authorized that number for use? - while the sun rises up through a sea of pink and gold clouds.

Has he slept yet? No. Has he had coffee? Yes, in abundance, to the point of alarming Akira. Is he prepared for this meeting?

That depends. If one were to ask if he’s ready to blow Touya away with his awesome research skills, then the answer would be yes. If one were to ask if he’d showered, the answer would be, unfortunately, no.

This might not normally be a problem, but he’d caught a whiff of himself and he still smelled like smoke from the night before. He’s just hoping the dew-fresh smell of flying through a few clouds will be enough to mask it.

Not that he should care what he smells like when meeting up with a guy who clearly doesn’t like him, but alas: attraction is such a fickle thing. He’d seen a thousand heroes pull off thousands of rescues during the course of his training, many of them far more spectacular than the one Touya had pulled off last night, and yet something about Touya’s fearlessness - his tenacity - drew Keigo in like a -

Oh god, he’d been about to use the moth to a flame metaphor. Casting himself as the big fuzzy moth to Touya’s… literal flame. 

A snicker builds deep in his guts, shaking his belly before it works its way up into his lungs, forcing him to choke on cloudy air as he laughs. He can only be grateful that no one can see his nose-dive into sleep-deprived hysterics at a thousand meters in the air.

In his defense, he’s tired.

He’s been pulling more eighty and ninety-hour weeks since he made it into the top five, even though the Commission told him he’d get to take on only the big jobs once he cracked the higher ranks. Which, to be fair, that was kinda true! They did only assign him bigger cases now - ones that involved long-term commitments, like taking down drug traffickers or investigating high-level villain activity. They simply neglected to mention that the big jobs would be required on top of running his agency and working his normal shifts.

So really, he shouldn’t be bothering with this case. It should have gone to someone else. 

And yet… here he is, flying to a fire station to deliver some proof of legal legwork getting done on behalf of a couple of civilians.

Am I really that much of a masochist? he wonders bemusedly. As if the Commission and my day job don’t kick my ass enough, I’m also gonna let one testy firefighter ruffle my feathers?

Keigo thinks about it as he coasts on a strong air current toward the station, questioning his life choices along with his brain’s questionable taste in men. 

Maybe that’s why, he thinks, spying the station far below and beginning to bank so that he can spiral down to it. Maybe it’s because it’s kind of… not my job. No one but Touya asked this of me and I got to choose if I wanted to or not. So it’s a little rebellious. A little out of line.

He feels himself grinning even as his heart rate increases. The pavement is close enough that he levels out, then swings his legs under him to land, which he does with a practiced grace that defies his exhausted state.

Peering around curiously, he spies the visitor entrance on the side of the building and jogs his way over, mentally preparing what he wants to say to Touya. How he wants to prove that he can and will go above and beyond in the line of duty, no matter the cause. Show the firefighter that his measure of heroes is all wrong.

Yeah, that’ll work, he thinks, nodding to himself as he reaches for the door handle.

It’s locked.

Keigo blinks in bewilderment, then glances up to see that the hours of public operation are from eight o’clock in the morning to six o’clock in the evening and… huh. What time is it?

Snagging his phone from his pocket, Keigo groans when he sees that it’s barely six o’clock in the morning. Fuck, he should have realized.

“I’m an idiot,” he mutters to himself, thumping his forehead against the cool glass door.

Footsteps approaching have his wings perking up and Keigo peeks an eye open, hoping and dreading that someone is coming to let him in. Sure enough, a man dressed in a white shirt and dark blue sweats is walking his way, eyebrows up and the name ‘Hawks…?’ forming on his lips. Sheepishly, Keigo waves, tugging on his backpack strap to let the guy know he’s here for a reason.

The firefighter reaches the door and unlocks it, opening it wide to invite Keigo in. 

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” he asks curiously. “Also, gotta ask for your ID. Too many cloning and morphing quirks out there to ignore protocol for unusual activity.”

Keigo hides his wince at the phrase ‘unusual activity’ and reaches for his wallet, fishing out his ID. “No problem, here ya go.”

While the man scans his card, Keigo glances curiously down the hall, noting several doors that branch off. At least one of them has to lead to a kitchen because he can smell something incredible wafting down his way. His feathers also sense movement all throughout the building, which means the day-shift firefighters are already up and ready to greet the day. Not unlike a hero agency first thing in the morning.

He doesn’t realize his wings are slow-flapping in interest until the firefighter looks up at him and smiles. “You wanna meet the guys, sir?”

“One of them, yeah,” Keigo says with as much confidence as he can. “I told Touya at the fire last night that I’d be working on a case for him. I have some preliminary results and wanted to drop by for his statement.”

“Oh,” the fireman says, chuckling. “Damn, they’re not kidding when they call you the fastest. And here I was thinking you’d found our TigTog.”

Keigo blinks, “Y’all have a TigTog?”

The fireman snorts, gesturing for Keigo to follow him down the hall. “Sure do, and Touya’s usually our star. Think he got a video posted this morning, actually. By the way,” he glances over his shoulder and nods respectfully. “I’m Fujita Okita. Sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier - got a little starstruck.”

Keigo grins amiably back. “Really? You didn’t act it, for sure. Nice to meet you Fujita-san.”

“Likewise. Here we are - think he and Toshiro are still in the gym, but you can pop in since this is important,” Fujita nods to him, smiling wide. “Let me know if you need anything else! And breakfast is in twenty if you want to join. Heroes gotta eat too, ya know?”

His stomach literally growls at the mention of food and Fujita throws his head back with a laugh. “I’ll take that as a sign to set you a place at the table!”

“Oof, embarrassing,” Keigo chuckles, patting his stomach while rubbing the back of his neck in consternation. “I guess I’ll see you in twenty, then. Which way’s the gym?”

Fujita hooks a thumb to point down a branch hallway. “Second door on the left - you’ll hear the music coming from it, don’t worry.”

Keigo gives the guy a thumbs up, already walking toward the gym. “Thanks man, I appreciate it. Will follow my nose to the kitchen when I wrap up with Touya.”

“Don’t let him get to ya, Hawks!” Fujita calls after him. “He’s prickly on the outside, but he ain’t too bad!”

With that parting bit of wisdom, Fujita disappears around the corner and Keigo turns his attention back to his mission, feeling inordinately more nervous than he had before. He can already sense the music thumping up ahead from his feathers and the beat matches the drumming of his heart almost exactly: fast-paced and frantic.

Shit, shit, shit, he thinks, even as he reaches the door and raps his knuckles loudly against it.

“Is someone knocking on the door?” A voice asks from inside. “Do we have another school visit coming through today?”

“Don’t think so,” another voice (definitely Touya’s, oh god) replies. Keigo squares his shoulders, then flings the door open.

Just in time to smack someone in the face with it.

“Fuck!” Touya yelps, a hand flying to his nose, his eyes clenched shut. Keigo’s wings flap in alarm as the firefighter bends at the waist, cupping his nose in pain. The other firefighter, perched on a bench with a couple of dumbbells in his hands, is laughing so hard his face is turning red.

“Shit.” Keigo winces, quickly pulling the door away from its victim. “Didn’t realize you were so close. You okay?”

Touya squints one teary eye open at him before a look of shock steals over his face. He straightens almost immediately, and even though he’s still holding his nose in pain, Keigo can’t help but take in all the sweaty skin on display. 

Holy shit, he thinks, eyes dipping down to the firefighter's eight pack and the trail of white hair low on his abdomen. If he thought the man had looked good in a skintight shirt, damn…

“What are you doing here?” Touya asks, his annoyance replaced with amusement. Keigo’s eyes whip up to his, hoping he hadn’t -

Ah. Nope, Touya’s grin was absolutely shit-eating. No way he hadn’t noticed Keigo checking him out. Abort, abort, abort.

“I have the paperwork,” he blurts out, trying to cover for his gaffe. “Naomi and Meiomi. My lawyer and I found legislation and precedent rulings we can build a case from. I just…” he swallows, trying to keep his eyes above Touya’s collarbones. “Needed your statement.”

Touya’s expression goes through a variety of emotions very swiftly. From amusement, to annoyance, to consideration, to something like wary interest. He pulls his hand away from his nose, glancing at his fingers to check for blood. Keigo winces again at the motion.

“Sorry about your nose,” he says. “Doesn’t look busted though?”

Touya wrinkles it, then flinches slightly. “Nah, just popped it pretty good.” He glances back at his gym buddy, who still appears to be chortling over the whole exchange. “Finish up without me, since our hero here couldn’t wait for normal business hours.”

He turns back to Keigo, an eyebrow quirked as he jerks his chin in a ‘follow me’ motion. “This way.”

Keigo follows more meekly than he has since he was a trainee as Touya leads him down the hall toward the dormitories. Unfortunately, the hallway isn’t super interesting other than a few framed pictures, so there's nothing to distract him from watching Touya’s sweat-slicked back muscles shift as the firefighter walks. God.

“In here,” Touya says over his shoulder, entering a room to the left, apparently oblivious to Keigo’s ogling. Keigo can only hope it’s not - 

Nope. It’s 100% a bedroom. Small and neat, but definitely a bedroom. 

Hnnnnnnngh. Think pure thoughts, Keigo. Think pure thoughts.

Touya bends down to pull a t-shirt from his dresser and Keigo’s pure thoughts go out the window.

Double caked up on a Thursday afternoooon.

It doesn’t matter that it’s Monday morning, Keigo’s brain has stopped processing time as a concept.

“So?” Touya asks, turning as he tugs the t-shirt over his ludicrously firm pecs, his expression expectant. Keigo actually has to pinch his thigh to concentrate. 

Hell, I should have taken a nap before this. My handler says I should never go into a fight exhausted.

He blinks, the mental image of Touya’s chest still stuck behind his eyelids.

Then again, I didn’t know I’d be going to war this morning.

“Yo.” Touya snaps in front of his eyes. “Birdbrain, you there?”

Keigo blinks again, eyes grainy and tired. “Sorry,” he apologizes, rubbing the back of his head. “Sleep deprivation does funny things to me. Do you have somewhere I can sit? This shouldn’t take long.”

Touya gestures at the bed while he plops himself into his desk chair, kicking his feet up on the desk. “Make yourself comfortable, hero.” He gives Keigo a shrewd look as he sits down. “You said ‘sleep deprivation’? Did you stay up all night researching?”

Keigo laughs a little in self-deprecation. “Yeah, a bit. My lawyer is an owl species mutant, so he works best at night. Figured we could get a jump start.”

Something in Touya’s body language changes, becoming more open. More interested, maybe.

“And you worked a full day yesterday?” he asks curiously. Keigo shrugs.

“Just the afternoon/evening shift, since I did a double the day before,” he says, feeling tired just thinking about it. He offers Touya a charming smile, aiming to distract him. “I thought I was asking the questions here?” 

Touya snorts but gestures for Keigo to continue. It’s an effort for Keigo not to show his relief as he unclips the narrow backpack from in between his wings. Rifling around inside, Keigo pulls out the thick folder his lawyer and him had put together, including print-outs from past court cases and some of the forms they'd need should Meiomi and Naomi decide to pursue legal action. It’s the form at the top, however, that Keigo’s looking for.

“This is an official statement form,” he says, pulling it out and placing it on top of the manila file while digging a pen from his pocket. He clicks the end, testing out the ink on the corner of the folder before letting it hover over the paper. “Just going to ask you the relevant questions off the list and take any additional comments you might have.”

Keigo glances up at Touya to see both of the firefighter’s eyebrows lifted slightly. 

“What?” he asks, feeling uncertainty creep back in. He’s not done many official interviews like this, and he thinks he might be skipping a step. Shit, usually the police do these things, has he already messed it up?

“Nothin’,” Touya says after a pause. “My full name going on this thing?”

Keigo blinks down at the form where, lo and behold, the first line requests the witness's family and given name.

“Yeah,” he says. “Is that… a problem?”

“Nah.” Touya flicks an imaginary piece of lint from his pants. “Could help, actually. Who knows - the old man might lend a hand.” He drops his feet from the desk, plopping them on the floor so that he can lean forward onto his elbows and into Keigo’s space. It takes every ounce of willpower Keigo’s ever had drilled into him not to pull back, even as a flush burns his ears without remorse.

Touya grins at his discomfort. Then he proceeds to drop a bombshell.

“Full name: Todoroki Touya. First son of Endeavor, Japan’s number one hero.”

Chapter Text

Touya takes some small satisfaction in dumbfounding the hero in front of him. In fact, he generally enjoys dumbfounding heroes, particularly his father. Gives him a thrill, if he’s being honest.

The whole “stayed up all night doing research after working twenty-four of the last forty-eight hours” takes a bit of the joy out of it, though. Touya did live with his dad all the way up through high school; he knows what a double shift entails. The urge to ask if Hawks wants to borrow a bunk surges up in him, riding on a wave of big brother instincts he’ll never shake.

Fortunately, Touya’s revelation seems to wake Hawks right up.

“You,” Hawks gapes, looking properly aghast. Not surprising, given Hawks’ not-so-subtle celebrity crush on Endeavor. 

Gross. Bleh. Repress that thought because no.

Instead, Touya focuses on Hawks’ flabbergasted expression, which looks so much better on him than contrite exhaustion.

“Does my reputation precede me?” Touya asks wryly. “I’m thrilled.”

“You -“ Hawks lets out an incredulous laugh. “Endeavor’s oldest son. Oh my god, I follow you on Titter.”

That makes Touya’s eyebrows arch with glee. Fuyumi was going to have a fit - she often brought Hawks up in arguments, using him as a “well Hawks likes working with dad” example. Especially when Touya was on a property damage tear against the old man.

“Are you for real?” he asks, blue eyes dancing. “Pro Hero Hawks follows little ole me? I thought you loved my old man.”

Touya has the singular pleasure of watching Hawks - Mr. Cool Breeze, Mr. Bachelor of the Year, Mr. Billboard Smolder - turn bright red with embarrassment. 

Gotcha, Touya thinks, delighted. After all, his Titter account is 90% Endeavor Fail memes and pithy callouts. Just last week he’d made a compilation video of all the times Endeavor’s beard had accidentally caught shit on fire, up to and including: curtains, napkins, and grass, after he’d face-planted from one too many drinks. 

Touya distinctly remembers ruining a good pair of sneakers trying to stomp that grass fire out before it spread, while Natsuo, Shouto, and Fuyumi struggled to get their old man off the ground. Their mom saved the day by calmly crouching down beside her husband and patting out his beard with an ice-covered hand until he roused.

After that particular incident, Touya rather thought his old man deserved to be reminded that grass was flammable on a weekly basis, especially as Touya was still mourning his sneakers.

Most of his jabs were meant in good humor. Enji often sighed in interviews when reporters brought up Touya thanking him for keeping him in the job, but he took the ribbing well enough. Touya figured someone ought to keep the man humble after he made it to the No. 1 position. And since Endeavor owed Touya several times over for being kind enough to let him become No. 1, he didn’t put up a fuss about the teasing and the memes.

Unlike some people, who consistently took Touya to task for making fun of the No. 1. His inbox was pretty much always full of Endeavor supporters, arguing with him or trying to make him stop, even though it was in his bio that Touya was Endeavor’s son, thus making him the expert in all Endeavor fails. 

(Touya half-wonders if maybe Hawks had been one of those offended Endeavor-lovers, trying to explain to him that Endeavor was too tough to cry over spilled mochi, despite Touya having watched his old man do just that on at least two separate occasions.)

“I - I remember,” Hawks says in awe. “You told Endeavor he should quit heroics since he’d make a killing as a -“ He can’t even finish the sentence, burying his nose into his collar, which he pulls up until only his eyes are visible. Touya has to think for a second before he remembers the Titter post.

“Oh,” he says, properly amused now, a smirk tugging at his lips. “When I told him he’d be better off working that money maker in the club?” He snorts. “I had to get him back somehow after that figurine of his showed up on my feed nonstop for a week .”

“Figurine?” Hawks asks weakly, voice muffled and ears practically glowing red. “The one with the…?”

“The fat ass, yeah,” Touya confirms with a laugh. Hawks groans.

“Oh my god,” he says. “I retitted your callout. My sidekick sent me a link to the figurine and I knew you were gonna have something to say about it. I had to lock myself in my office, I was laughing so hard at the replies.”

“Your sidekick sent you a figurine of a fellow hero with an ass the size of a trash can lid?” Touya asks, leaning back in his chair, arms crossing his chest. “They think you’d want to buy it?” 

Hawks snorts.

“It was mostly sent as a joke,” he says, while Touya mouths the word ‘mostly’ in distaste.  “But I ended up really appreciating your callout to the company who made it while you were roasting your dad. I said the same thing about a figurine that my own marketing department showed to me. They wanted to do -“ he stops himself, burying his face in his hands. “Anyway, I told them no. No unrealistic figurines for me. No need.”

Touya flashes teeth with his grin. “They wanted to give you a bulge or something? Have your next figurine be All Might jacked?”

Hawks makes a pitiful gurgling noise at the back of his throat. “Pecs the size of cantaloupes. It made me self-conscious for days.”

Touya lets his eyes flick down, though he can’t see much between Hawks’ curled-in posture and his bulky jacket. Just as quickly he glances back up to see Hawks’ tired face twisted into a smile. “Your tit calling out the company for unrealistic expectations of hero physiques and the spike in fake emergency calls was kind of validating. The fact that you poked fun at Endeavor at the same time was just icing on the -“

He breaks off, looking mortified and awed. Then he finishes in a whisper, “- on the cake, oh my god.”

Touya can’t help it - he tosses his head back and laughs.

——

Keigo likes Touya’s laugh. He really, really does. How dare.

When Touya looks back at him, a smile still tugging at his lips and his bright eyes dancing, Keigo has to duck his head again, his throat dry.

Damn, usually he has some kind of game. A charming line or a witty remark - something. Now, he’s just got ‘pretty, handsome, wow’ playing on repeat in his head. Somewhere in the back of his mind, there’s an absolute racket being made about Touya being Endeavor’s son on top of everything else, but he’s doing his best to just… compartmentalize that for the moment. Something to address after more coffee.

His left eye spasms slightly as if his body is rebelling at the mere thought of more caffeine being pumped into it.

Okay, fine. After sleep . Geez.

Gazing down at his lap does have him looking directly at the paperwork he’d put together for this meeting though, and the Commission always said that work would fill the void where awkwardness tried to take hold. That’d been in reference to hero galas and other social functions, but hell - Keigo is a little desperate at the moment.

“Ahh, sorry, didn’t mean to get so off track,” he says, trying for his normal easy-breezy persona. He rubs the back of his neck, sitting up straight as he pats the paperwork with his other hand. “Wasn’t expecting to meet the author of one of my favorite Titter accounts here.” He clears his throat. “But if you’re still down to be interviewed…? I don’t want to keep you all day.”

Yes, you do, one side of his brain says emphatically.

Shut UP, the other side hollers back.

“Yeah, sure,” Touya says with a shrug, leaning back into his chair, arms crossing distractingly across his chest. “Hit me with your best shot, hero.”

God, I wish.

Oh my god, s t o p.

“Right,” Keigo says, looking down at the form. With a careful hand, he fills in Touya’s family name, already knowing the character by heart. He pauses over the given name, wondering if he should just go hiragana, or ask, or -

“Spelled with the characters for ‘light’ and ‘arrow,’” Touya supplies unexpectedly. Keigo flashes him a brief smile.

“Fitting,” Keigo says lightly, spelling Touya’s name carefully. “The way you shot into that building last night and got those women out. That was… something else.” He clears his throat before glancing up. “Can you describe the scene as you experienced it?”

Touya blinks. “Sure thing, birdie.” 

Somewhere in the back of Keigo’s mind, he blue screens at the new nickname.

—--

Touya has to shake himself a little bit, caught off guard by the compliment as well as the intensity in Hawks’ golden eyes. It’d been an ego stroke to see a high-profile hero ogle him in the gym, but seeing legitimate admiration? 

Not something he was used to from the hero sect. 

“Last night started like any other call,” he said slowly, watching as Hawks’ pen starts scratching across the form. “Alarm goes off at 12:09AM, and we’re out the door by 12:10.”

Hawks smiles a little bit as he makes a note. “Fast.”

Touya smirks. “Not like you’ve patented hauling ass, Hawks.”

The hero bites his lip like he wants to say something, and Touya finds himself wishing the hero would. Was he thinking something smart-ass? Was he biting back a humble-brag?

C’mon, show your true colors, hero. Give me a reason not to like you.

“Sorry, I just… thought you didn’t recognize me last night,” Hawks says after a beat. Touya scoffs, but Hawks raises a hand in placation. “Not that I expect to be recognized! It’s just - it’s Fukuoka. And last night, you asked me if I was a hero. Threw me off a little, I won’t lie.”

Ah, that makes more sense. 

“Eyesight was blurry,” Touya concedes. “There was a shitton of smoke and I had sweat in my eyes. I couldn’t actually see you.”

“Oh,” Hawks says, his wings fluttering behind him. “Fair enough.”

Touya can’t help but pick at him. “Don’t worry, hero, I haven’t missed all your billboards. I’m not blind.”

The flush that spreads across the hero’s cheeks is deeply satisfying.

“Ahem,” Hawks clears his throat. “And uh, what happened next? At the fire?”

Touya leans back in the chair, hooking his arm over the back. Time to actually get serious. “Got to the apartment and saw two of them involved. Apparently, it started in building one, but it escalated more quickly in the second. I think you got there when we were working to knock down the fire in the first building since the second was too dangerous.”

“Yeah - I arrived when the Chief found out there were still two people in the second building,” Hawks says quietly. 

Touya grimaces. “The worst thing to hear on scene. We’d focused our efforts on the first building because it was safer and we didn’t have enough guys. Apartment complexes like that… they got twenty or thirty units in them - with two to five people per unit, and their dogs, cats, important items. A response team is only eight guys. Triage orders stand when we don’t have the manpower.”

“And the other engine was stuck on the highway,” Hawks says with a nod, his voice grave.

Touya dips his head in affirmation. “It was a shit situation all around. Fortunately, I specialize in no-win scenarios. The chief radioed me over and sent me in.”

“Because you have a fire quirk?” Hawks asks, looking curious despite himself. 

People always assume… even here at the station, Touya thinks wryly. This time, for whatever reason, the assumption doesn’t chafe. And this time… he doesn’t mind correcting the assumption.

“Yes and no,” he says, wavering his hand in the air. “Quirk’s built for fire, body’s built for ice. Shitty mix of primary and secondary quirks, to be honest. My quirk actually burned me when I was a kid.” He leans even further back in his seat, letting his eyes fix on the ceiling so he doesn’t have to see whatever look Hawks is wearing. Memories of those early years when he was striving for Endeavor’s attention to the point of roasting himself were never fun, and he didn’t need the hero’s sympathy making it worse. “It’d be like if you were born to go fast but your body couldn’t handle the speed.”

“Definitely not a good match-up,” Hawks says seriously. Touya’s lips quirk.

“No shit. Long story short, we found some interesting aspects of my secondary ice quirk that let me keep my body cool. It’s not perfect, and I could never keep cool enough for my primary quirk to not burn the shit outta me. But I can handle house fires just fine.”

He glances at Hawks to see if he’s sporting some kinda pitying expression or whatever, but the hero just looks impressed.

“Damn, that’s one hell of a secondary quirk to make house fires easy to handle,” he says, fluffy eyebrows lifted high. “And one damn strong fire quirk to burn you despite the secondary quirk.” Touya snorts.

“It has its occasional uses. I can fire off short bursts if I gotta get outta somewhere fast.” He eyes the hero. “That satisfy your curiosity?”

Hawks blanches. “Ah, sorry. None of that is on the report, I was just -”

Touya takes pity in a way he normally doesn’t with anyone. Damn the hero for looking so tired.

“Don’t sweat it.” He waves a hand. “After the chief sent me in, you saw most of the rest. I got inside, made it up what was left of the staircase, and found Naomi trying to get Meiomi’s wheelchair down the stairs. That was no dice, so we went for the window instead. Got out that way.”

Freaking Tarzan style, he thinks unsteadily. Now that he’s really processing what happened… it was actually a bit insane. 

“I did see that part,” Hawks says, penning it down on the form, adding a couple of exclamation points behind ‘broke window with axe and escaped with both civilians!!’ in his notes. He pauses for a moment, pen hovering over the paper. “It must have been terrifying for them, being stuck in a situation they couldn’t get out of.” He frowns. “I’ll be touching base with them later this week for their statements, but I’d like to ask you a couple of ‘yes or no’ questions for the record. That alright?”

“Shoot,” Touya says.

Hawks nods. “Would you say that both women were capable of exiting the building had they been located on the first floor, as they should have been?”

“Yes,” Touya says without hesitation.

“And would you say that the elevator being out of order prevented them from escaping during the early stages of evacuation?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you. And would you say that the landlord was not only negligent of his residents’ wellbeing but that he recklessly endangered them by withholding a ground-level apartment initially, then furthered that endangerment by allowing the elevator maintenance to go unaddressed for such an extended period of time?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent,” Hawks says, adding a period to the final answer with a flourish. “We did find similar cases where it was successfully proven that a landlord showed negligence by housing a legally handicapped person in a room that had accessibility issues. So even if we don’t win on ‘he said, she said’ case where he promised them a ground-floor apartment but the document with that promise was destroyed, we should still be able to win on the elevator not being accessible, despite the fact that you’re not supposed to use it during an evacuation.”

“So they can win this fight?” Touya asks, curious.

Hawks’ grin is more bared teeth than true joy, and it sends a little jolt of heat through Touya’s stomach. 

“They will win this fight.”

Damn, okay, Touya thinks, cautiously moving Hawks into the ‘heroes that don’t suck’ category of his brain. Not many people occupied that list, and none had made it onto the list quite so quickly.

Interesting.

“That all your questions?” Touya asks curiously. Keigo nods and turns the form around for him to sign.

“Just need you to acknowledge that all your statements are true to the best of your knowledge, and we’re good to go,” the hero says, handing him a pen. Touya takes it, skims the document, then signs his name with unnecessary neatness. From the edge of his vision, he can see Hawks’ wings perk up with interest.

“Calligraphy training, huh?” the hero asks, examining the signature before carefully tucking the form back into his folder. Touya shrugs.

“Old man has old traditions, and he forced them on all of us.” He wrinkles his nose. “Including fish for breakfast. God, I don’t miss that.” He shoots Hawks a glance. “You joining us for breakfast by the way? The guys like to do it American style on Mondays, so it’s all pancakes ‘n other sugary shit.”

Hawks’ smile is bright and his eyes sparkle with interest. 

“Lead the way.”

—--

Keigo has roughly twenty seconds, according to his feathers, to get his act together. Touya had tugged him left and right with his revelations and his quick wit, but Keigo could not let himself slip in front of a whole crew of civilians. He had a reputation to uphold, for one. For two, blushing this much had to be bad for his health. He was probably depriving blood from his toes right now or something, and if that kept up, they’d likely fall off.

God, I need sleep, he thinks, pinching himself subtly on the thigh. His cargo pants take the sting out of it, but his grip strength is enough for a bruise to form.

“Did the guys show you around?” Touya asks from in front of him, tossing a casual look over his shoulder as he leads the way to the kitchen. Keigo shakes his head.

“Just saw the main hallway and the gym,” he replies. “Can smell where the kitchen is though, and holy cow, I think I’m drooling.”

Touya smirks. “Birdie not eat dinner?” 

Keigo snorts derisively without thinking about it. 

“Nah, I skipped.”

Touya’s eyes narrow. “Lunch?”

Keigo blinks innocently. “Protein bar, I think. That’s what I usually have for lunch.” 

Or was that the day before yesterday… he wonders, genuinely unable to remember.

Touya pauses in the hallway, just shy of the door Keigo is sure leads to the kitchen. There are voices on the other side, along with the sound and smell of sizzling meat and beeping appliances. But Touya makes no move to continue in, and Keigo isn’t about to barge past him just because he’s a little peckish.

Aaaaand, Touya’s still looking at him, expression almost annoyed. Keigo wonders what the fuck he said to garner that reaction.

“Typical,” Touya mutters eventually, before turning back to the kitchen door. He palm-heels it open with a bang, announcing their presence to the room at large.

“Ayyy, Touya, you done with your interview?”

“Woah, Hawks really is here. Shit, do you think he’d sign a napkin?”

“Lay off him, man, we invited him to breakfast, not a fan meet.”

“Touya, don’t forget it’s your turn to do dishes since you skipped out on prep this morning!”

“Hey Hawks, can we get you anything to drink? Coffee, tea…?”

The noise washes over them in a wave, almost overwhelming Keigo where he stands. Then he steps up with a wide grin, wings only slightly puffed at his back.

“Hey guys!” he waves, feeling a bit lame but playing the character to a T. “Sorry for popping in so early - I forgot business hours were a thing.”

The crew laughs, their faces bright and intrigued. Awesome, they didn’t think he was lame. Sweet.

There are at least seven people, not including Touya, bustling around the kitchen like they all know what they’re doing. There’s the fire chief, settled in at the bar overlooking the kitchen, cradling a cup of tea and reading a newspaper with a pair of readers perched on the end of his nose in the most stereotypical dad pose Keigo has ever witnessed in real life.

Beside the sink is another dude, super tall with some kind of quirk that gives him red skin, standing by the waffle iron, prying the appliance apart to reveal a perfectly golden disc, which he plops on a dish already ten waffles deep. 

Off to the right side of the kitchen is a guy tossing sausage patties into the pan, giving the whole kitchen the scent of cooking meat that had Keigo salivating so hard. He gives Keigo an enthusiastic pair of finger guns that rival Keigo’s own. 

By the coffee cart, there’s another guy with bright blue hair and even brighter teeth, smiling at him – Touya’s partner from the gym. There are two ladies too, a redhead and a brunette, both waving from the kitchen table, their gear out in front of them in what appeared to be a maintenance party. 

Keigo spies Fujita Okita last, the guy who’d let him into the station, plating eggs at the kitchen island, and the fireman waves at him with a spatula. Then he starts pointing at the people scattered around the kitchen in turn.

“Quick introductions,” he says, pointing out the fire chief. “Chief Nakamura, who you’ve met.”

“Long time no see,” Keigo chimes, offering a respectful nod. The chief raises his teacup in salute. Fujita continues.

“Over there,” he points at the guy with the red-skinned quirk. “We have Renga - quirk: brick skin. Full name is Hamada Masaki, but literally everyone calls him Renga.”

Renga glances at him. “You want anything in your waffle? Chocolate chips? Walnuts?” 

Keigo blinks. He’s never had a waffle before as far as he can remember. “Can I pick both?”

The fireman snorts. “Hell yeah you can.” He grabs a handful of both ingredients and tosses them into the batter before popping the lid closed. Keigo watches with absolute fascination before Fujita draws his attention away.

“Sausage guy over there is Fujiwara Akio,” he says, pointing his spatula again. Akio feigns being wounded, clutching one hand to his heart.

“Hey, I’m so much more than just my sausage,” he whines, shooting Keigo a wink. Keigo snorts in surprise, then ducks his mouth behind his collar to hide his smile. Fuck, he’s not supposed to laugh at inappropriate jokes. Throws off the whole family-friendly thing.

“Shut up, Akio,” Touya grumbles, scooting past Keigo to the coffee maker. He lifts an eyebrow at Keigo along with the carafe. “Want any?”

“...think I might go into cardiac arrest if I drink anymore,” Keigo declines with reluctance. “Just water’s fine.”

“We have orange juice too,” the shiny teeth guy says. “Gotta give the full American experience if we’re already in this deep.” He beams, blinding Keigo just a touch. “I’m Ueda Toshiro by the way - big fan.”

“Oh my god,” Keigo hears Touya grumble by the coffee pot, where he’s pouring himself a cup, and Ueda shoots him a wry look.

“Even bigger fan after you took Touya out this morning. Someone needs to ugly-ify him. Keep him humble.”

Keigo can’t help but laugh as Touya shoots Ueda the bird without looking over his shoulder. Fuck, was this what it was like to actually enjoy your co-workers? He can’t remember a time he got to be so casual with his fellow heroes or sidekicks. Heroes were always too concerned with their image, and the last time he let his snark loose on a sidekick, they’d cried.

Before he can say something stupid like ‘I don’t think it’s possible to ugly-ify him’, one of the lady firefighters steps into the kitchen and heads to the fridge, swinging the doors open to reveal the well-stocked shelves.

“While the catfighting is going on,” she laughs, holding up a pitcher of water and a jug of orange juice. “What can I get you?”

Keigo points at the juice. “If I’m gonna have my first American breakfast, might as well go all in, right?”

He sees several surprised expressions around the kitchen but doesn’t pay them much attention as the lady pours him a glass and hands it over with a smile.

“Name’s Kishimoto Airi,” she says. “You can join me and Marina at the table while the guys finish up the food.”

Having officially gotten the names of everyone in the room, Keigo follows in Kishimoto’s wake, taking a seat at the kitchen table strewn with gear. Touya follows behind, nursing his cup of coffee and bitching at some of the other guys in the room as they lob abuse his way.

Keigo watches the byplay, feathers fluffed up at his back with interest. 

Sometimes, when he stops by his agency’s breakroom to grab a coffee from the vending machine or wash dishes from his lunch or whatever, he’ll hear his sidekicks and staff ribbing each other like this. One will ask a question about somebody’s baby, another will poke fun at them for being old enough to have a baby, and yet another will lament that they aren’t a baby, swaddled up and ready for a nap. And Keigo will listen, occasionally chiming in with a one-liner or a witty remark. He’ll get a laugh from everyone present, and they’ll ask what he’s up to.

Invariably, the answer is work.

Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. He likes being a hero, so he doesn’t have much to complain about. He’s not counting out sick days or vacation time so he can plan for something he actually wants to do. After all, what would he do with a vacation other than sleep?

It’s just that… in not having a life outside of work, he finds himself unable to relate to his own team. No family to ask after, no hobbies to confide in. He doesn’t even watch TV, really, so he can’t chat about the newest episodes of whatever show is the ‘must-watch’ of the month. 

So he brushes off questions about his own life (nonexistent as it is) and, more often than not, extricates himself shortly afterward. No hard feelings or whatever, but… hah. He has work to do.

There are exceptions of course. His whole office knows of his love affair with fried chicken and his hero crush on Endeavor, so those are always fair game. And he is closer with some of his sidekicks, like Ivine, who tries her best to cheer him up after long days. Which means… more often than not, recently.

Maybe he’s the only one that feels the barrier that’s often between him and his team. Maybe he’s made the barrier himself. But it’s hard not to notice the level of comfort and ease all the firefighters, including the chief, have with each other as they make breakfast together. And watching all of them neg each other is a lot like being in the breakroom. Like he’s on the outside, looking in.

“Hey, hero,” Touya interrupts his thoughts rudely, kicking the leg of Keigo’s chair. “You got any good song recommendations?”

It seems apropos of nothing, but Keigo realizes he must have zoned out for a portion of the table conversation because both Touya and Kishimoto are looking at him expectantly. Kishimoto, fortunately, takes pity in the form of rolling her eyes at Touya.

“Lay off him, it was just speculation.” She glances at Keigo, then explains. “I figured the headphones might not be there entirely for wind protection, and these guys -” she hooks her thumb at the firefighters behind her in the kitchen “- literally listen to nothing but fire-related shit.”

Keigo feels something in his stomach flutter weirdly. Is it appreciation? Excitement?

Fans ask him all the time for his favorite things. Favorite coffee, favorite clothing brands, favorite foods. His responses are treated like gospel, and he’s accidentally caused more than one feud by voicing his actual preferences. 

He frankly can’t remember the last time someone treated him so normally.

“Heh,” he huffs, tapping his earphones lightly. “Fair warning, I listen to some of the most cursed stuff.”

Touya perks up with interest, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh?”

Kishimoto also looks intrigued, one eyebrow raised. “You realize you can’t say that kinda shit then not deliver on cursed content, right?”

Maybe it’s the relaxed, comfortable feelings between the people in the room, and the wistfulness for something like this in his own life. Maybe it’s the sight of plates being brought over, piled high with food. Fuck, maybe it’s the ninety-hour work weeks catching up with him. But Keigo cocks his head, an innocent, challenging smile spreading across his face. “I have a playlist on Spogify. It’s not for the faint of heart.”

Kishimoto and Touya look at each other, both agreeing to the challenge with just a glance before they look back at him.

“Lay it on us.”

Within fifteen minutes, his playlist is blaring over the speakers in the kitchen, much to the hooting and booing and laughter of the firefighter crew. Touya had insisted they all listen after the first two songs had him simultaneously shaking his head and groaning dramatically. Kishimoto simply looked delighted by the fact that he was ‘actually cursed’, in her words.

Keigo eats his waffle with gusto, the chocolate and walnuts giving it a wild texture and flavor that sends off happy sparks in his brain. Meanwhile, Touya chokes on his eggs as some of the remixed lyrics register to him

“F-fuck,” he gasps, pounding on his chest. “Is this -?”

“An ode to Best Jeanist?” Keigo finishes, beaming at Touya beatifically. “To the tune of Apple Bottom Jeans? Why yes, yes it is.”

Kishimoto howls while Fujiwara slaps the table and stands up, only to immediately drop it down low, low, low.

The whole table loses it, Keigo included.

“Jeanist had them battle-ripped jeans, 

Roots with the perm, with the perm!”  

All in all, it’s the best breakfast Keigo’s had in ages.

—-

When Touya leads Hawks to the building exit, it’s with mixed feelings.

On the one hand, Hawks has proven he’s more than meets the eye. Not just a shiny hero, out to shoot to the top of the billboard rankings, but also a person who works hard at his job, listens to ridiculous remixes, and can eat three waffles in one sitting without batting a blond eyelash. 

On the other… 

Touya’s been burned before. In more ways than one.

Still, in the early morning light, as he watches Hawks stretch, his wings splaying wide as he yawns and reaches toward the sky, Touya wonders.

“You got a full day today?” he asks casually, jamming his hands in his pockets. Hawks gives him a wry smile.

“Sure do,” he says, tapping each toe on the asphalt of the parking lot before dropping into a squat to stretch his legs. “‘Preciate y’all letting me stay for breakfast. Feels weird to have a full stomach before work. Nice! But weird.”

Touya should really ask the crew first. He shouldn’t get involved at all. Hawks is a full-grown adult and he can take care of himself.

Fuck it. 

“Wouldn’t mind updates on the case every once in a while,” he says casually, scuffing his boot heel and cursing himself internally. Hawks gives him a curious look.

“Sure, I think I have your contact info on the statement you gave.” He blinks. “Did you want me to text, or..?”

Touya shrugs. “We have breakfast like this every morning. Welcome to stop by anytime.” He pauses, then goes for the kill. “Tuesdays are fried chicken, eggs, and rice. It’s Marina’s favorite.”

Hawks’ mouth drops open slightly in surprise. Then he grins.

“Alright, twist my arm why don’t ya.” He offers Touya a casual salute. “See ya next Tuesday, hot shot!”

Then he takes off into the sky with a powerful down sweep of his wings that blows Touya’s bangs back. He blinks, stunned at the hero’s speed, then he huffs.

“Show off,” he mutters to himself, turning around to go back inside to the pile of dishes that await him, grinning despite himself.

He listens to Hawks’ playlist the entire time he spends cleaning.

Chapter Text

The following week is long. And hot. May in Fukuoka is no joke, and it’s only the beginning of Summer.

Which is how Keigo finds himself tucked up in the shady corner of a roof, one eye on the city below, one eye on… TigTog.

He’d caved, alright?

Akio is apparently the one who runs Station 69’s account, as evidenced by the fact he’s in almost all of the videos. Many of them are workouts and drills, showing off the firefighter’s daily routines. A good handful are prank videos too, showing the shenanigans that go down around the station. Toshiro does a lot of cooking tutorials as well, giving ideas for easy meals with lots of protein which does not make Keigo drool at all, no siree.

Touya being in so many of the videos though… that’s another story. Particularly as Keigo swipes up and sees the next one is a CPR tutorial. 

In the video, Touya has a dummy on the ground in front of him and he’s looking up at Akio with an exasperated expression as the other fireman asks him to show the proper technique for the attentive watchers on the other side of the screen.

Boy howdy, does Keigo watch attentively as Touya dips his head down and presses his lips to the dummy’s silicone mouth, breathing life into its fake lungs.

“Rescue breaths aren’t necessarily recommended in all situations anymore,” Touya informs the camera as he braces on his knees beside the dummy, his hands stacked as he administers chest compressions. “When the person isn’t breathing and doesn’t have a pulse, chest compressions are more important, since they keep the heart beating.”

“When should you give rescue breaths?” Akio asks from behind the camera. Touya doesn’t pause, keeping a perfect rhythm, his hands sinking the exact two inches needed on every pump.

“New guidelines say that rescue breaths are given when there’s a pulse but no breath, and when it's a drowning victim. There are a few other exceptions, but those would be covered in an actual CPR class, not just a TigTog.”

“And what do we offer here at Station 69 once a month?” Akio prompts, sounding gleeful. Touya rolls his eyes, ceasing CPR and sitting back from the dummy. His expression says he knows what Akio is about.

“Every second Sunday of the month, we offer free CPR certification classes. If you need a license for your job or just wanna know how to save a life, you can stop by at 9AM or 12PM for a two-hour certification course. And no, you don’t practice on live humans, and neither do we.”

“Spoilsport!” Akio laughs. Keigo has to agree with the sentiment, especially as he skims through the comments lamenting that Touya wouldn’t be locking lips with anyone during the classes. He also has to agree with the multitude of commenters saying how jealous they are of the dummy. 

The temptation to comment “same” has never been so strong. 

Keigo tilts his chin up, staring at the clouds overhead as if searching for a sign. Some indication that this little crush of his is going to pass. But damned if the color of the sky doesn’t just remind him of Touya’s eyes.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” he mutters, swiping away the TigTog app before it can replay the closeup of Touya’s lips pressing against the dummy’s. 

Maybe he needs to get out more or something. At the very least, he needs to refocus on the task at hand, which is keeping his city safe.

Sighing, Keigo taps the side of his visor, initiating the heads up display that lets him know his route for the day. It’s got a handy map and everything, showing the streets with little icons for various landmarks and incident reports. Up two streets and over a block, for instance, there’s a little handcuff icon, indicating an arrest is in progress. Six streets east and four blocks up, there’s another icon indicating an event. Keigo focuses in on it and his visor’s pupil recognition notes his interest, zooming in on the icon’s location even as a small paragraph pops up.

Location: Kushida Shrine

Event: Hakata Dontaku Festival

Status: Local authorities monitoring, no hero action required

The location is outside of his normal patrol route, but the festival is a big temptation. Every year it gets bigger - the dancing, the parades, the pop-up vendors, the wild games. God, and the food. Keigo can imagine the smell of it from where he’s dawdling, and it’s so tempting. 

The description of local authorities is also tempting because the festival always has police, EMTs, and firefighters standing by in case of emergencies. Especially for the fireworks portion that came in the evening time.

Keigo bites his lip, glancing down at his watch.

Patrols can’t really be cut short or rushed. He’s assigned a portion of the city grid, and his only job during that time is to keep an eye out for trouble and be available for any emergencies that pop up in his assigned area. On a larger scale, he can be called into other grids for certain kinds of emergencies or high-ranked villain attacks, and his agency will send a sidekick to replace him while he deals with the bigger threats.

Skipping out on assigned areas, or overlapping with ones being covered by others isn’t really done, especially if it means interfering in another hero’s patrol and potentially depriving them of work/income. 

That said, Keigo eyeballs the no hero action required note on the event, and chews his lip in thought, his boot tapping against the concrete of the roof he’s been squatting on for ten minutes too long already. He wouldn’t be interfering with another hero’s route if there were no heroes on duty, and he’s fast enough to get back to his route if he has to…

I shouldn’t, he thinks tiredly. Just because I’ve been watching his TigTogs off and on all morning does not mean he’s just going to magically be one of the firefighters assigned to the festival. That only happens in like… movies, right?

Besides, Keigo’s already got a meeting planned with the firefighter. A breakfast, in three days, at the station. Three days is nothing! 

Feels like an eternity, he thinks, scrubbing a gloved hand down his face in exhaustion, uncaring that he’s squashing his visor into the bridge of his nose.

God, I’m tired.

In the four days since he last saw the firefighter, he’s pulled another two double shifts, pushing his limits as the HPSC requested. Of course, they don't request his time lightly, and the mission they have him working in addition to his normal shifts is certainly important. 

This particular assignment involves support gear getting smuggled through Fukuoka’s ports, dirty moles at some of the best support gear agencies, and doctored manifests hiding the parts coming in and out of the city. Keigo knows the importance of keeping support gear in check - particularly the kind of support gear that could enhance already-dangerous quirks. Just imagining a criminal with a strength quirk suddenly being able to hit like All Might has a shiver running up his spine.

Keigo has been undercover with the primary support company involved, getting in as a delivery man and staying on as a grunt of the operation. It’d required a helluva lot of makeup and him leaving 95% of his feathers behind, but at least he had a basic understanding of locations and could utilize his feathers in recon. 

The stakeouts, the undercover work, the tailing that he’s done over the past few weeks… it’ll all be worth it when they bust the smuggling ring open and seize all the black market gear they’re pushing through his city.

Until then, he’s definitely feeling the late nights and constant stress beginning to wear on him. 

Maybe that’s why the temptation to skive off is so strong. Maybe that’s why the thought of flying around for the next hour and a half catching purse snatchers has his shoulders hunching up with tension. It’s just… a build-up of anxiety.

And what does it say about him that the last time he felt that anxiety seep out of him was while having breakfast with a bunch of strangers?

Keigo clenches his eyes shut, pulling in a deep, regretful breath. 

Okay, he can do this. He can continue to do his job. It’s no big deal - just flying, and he loves flying.

“Hawks? You copy?”

Keigo nearly startles himself off the roof at the sound of his sidekick’s voice in his earpiece, though he doesn’t show it. Releasing a slow breath, he taps the speaker button.

“I’m here. What’s up, Ivine?”

He can hear his sidekick typing on the other end, her whipcord fingers making the job ten times faster. “Got an invite from the mayor asking you to stop by the festival. He said his office ought to have sent it further in advance, but there appeared to be some kind of miscommunication with his staff and ours.”

Keigo’s bushy eyebrows raise. “His office or ours?”

“Considering the fact it’s dated two weeks ago and just now popped up in your inbox, I’m gonna go with ‘neither’,” she says with forced lightness. The information makes Keigo frown before understanding dawns.

“Ah, they’re letting me off the leash,” he says, matching her tone. Ivine is perhaps the only one of his sidekicks who knows the extent of the HPSC’s interference in Keigo’s life, as she also acts as his executive assistant. “Any idea what the occasion is?”

“Not a hundred percent sure,” Ivine replies, sounding distracted. “Been searching the feeds to see what they might want your appearance to distract from, but there’s nothing obvious. Maybe they just thought you deserved the break?”

Keigo snorts without meaning to, then covers it up with a cough.

“Well, hey, I’m not gonna look a gift break in the mouth. You got someone coming to cover for me?” he asks, already pushing himself to his feet and moving toward the edge of the roof.

“Yep, got Suncatcher en route. Should be there in the next five minutes or so, so you’re clear to head on over to the festival. I’ll reply to the mayor’s office and let them know you’re coming.”

“Thanks,” Keigo says, his wings arching out wide behind him as he practically skips off into the open air. The wind catches his feathers and he flaps down hard, lifting himself in a graceful burst of speed. “Anything I need to do? Give an award? Kiss babies?”

“The invite is just to be there, mill around, take photos with people. Be seen, basically,” Ivine reports.

Keigo laughs. It’s by far the easiest request he’s ever gotten, and he could use a bit of easy just now. 

“I’ll mark you down as signed off for the day,” his sidekick says warmly. “Anything else I can do for you, sir?”

He thinks it over for a brief moment, then lets a small smile tug at his lips.

“Yeah, do you have a map of the parade? Looking for -”

Just then, he gets a ping on his phone indicating a new TigTog has been posted, and upon seeing the thumbnail, he immediately realizes his hopes were not in vain.

“Never mind, Ivine,” he laughs, clicking on the video. “I found what I was looking for. Talk to you later!”

“Bye boss, have some karaage on us!”

“Heyyyyy, Fukuoka!” Akio’s bright voice comes through his earphones as soon as Ivine hangs up. “Happy Hakata Dontaku and Happy Golden Week!” The video pans around to show off the beginnings of the parade in the background, apparently through a short copse of trees. Maybe they're in a park?

“We at Station 69 are volunteering today along with EMTs from Fukuoka University Hospital and police from Fukuoka central precinct!” The camera focuses on two groups of uniformed volunteers, waving from their respective tents. Then it pans over to the firefighters, dressed down in their t-shirts and fireproof pants, sporting their Firefighter/EMT vests for the day. All of them wave as well except for Touya, who’s in the middle of having an ice cube dropped down the back of his shirt. Keigo snickers as the fireman arches his back with a cut off curse as Akio swings the camera around to face the parade

“If you need us, you can ask a volunteer to guide you over to our little camp, or look between the Tadashi Building and Soritoma Plaza on Block 8! We’re here to help all day and will be fully geared up for the fireworks tonight! Stay cool, Fukuoka!”

And with that, the video ends. Keigo can’t help the broad grin that stretches his face. 

Now to think of a proper entry.

—--

“We have a suspicious number of people coming over for ‘heatstroke’,” Marina says slyly, tapping Touya on the shoulder with the business end of a pinwheel. Three more decorate her bun, spinning lazily in the slow breeze that’s passing through the park. Touya shoots her a disgruntled look even as he throws away wrappers for a cold press which, despite it being unseasonably hot for May, was clearly not needed for their last ‘patient’. 

It was the giggles that’d given it away.

The crew of Station 69 was currently located in a tent in one of the small parks off the main road where the parade was passing by, along with the EMT services and the Fukuoka police. Generally speaking, the EMTs would handle most of the medical complaints, but the fire department had taken their overflow with the heatwave hitting so many people so hard - particularly the performers in the parade. Touya genuinely can’t imagine wearing a full oni get-up, demon mask and all, with it being so sweltering out.

Which meant that enough of their patients were legit that they couldn’t call hacks.

“It’s hot,” Touya points out. Marina rolls her eyes.

“You’re hot,” she says bluntly, hooking her thumb over her shoulder. “Why else do you think we’ve got a line to see us like we’re one of the street vendors?”

Touya glances past her and sure enough, there’s a short line stretching out of the park back toward the street where the parade is passing by. His eyebrows arch in surprise then fall again in exasperation.

“This is because of that TigTog from this morning,” he says, looking around for Akio so he can throw something at him. “I told Akio it was a bad idea.”

“People needed to know where they could find emergency services if they couldn’t locate a volunteer to direct them!” Akio says, popping up behind Touya with a look of mischief on his face. Touya chucks a wad of gauze at him.

“There are volunteers every ten steps, you -” 

“Got another one for you, Station 69!” One of the EMTs calls from their tent, interrupting Touya’s imminent tirade. “Got hit in the eye with a parasol!”

Touya sighs, snapping on a new pair of gloves as he waves the too-smiley-to-really-be-hurt teenage girl over.

—---

Finding a place to land at the festival has Keigo feeling a touch overwhelmed. The noise and heat coming from the crowds below is intense, and all the streets are clogged by the vendors, decorations, and side performances, to say nothing of the enormous parade making its sluggish way through the city toward Kushida Shrine. As he circles, Keigo passes by a drifting balloon and snags it with a feather, his keen golden eyes searching the crowd until he spots a little girl gazing up at him with watery eyes.

He smiles, sending his feather to reunite the girl with her balloon, and then sighs when her squeal of delight draws attention.

“Hawks!” 

“He’s here, oh my god!”

“Wow, he got that girl her balloon back - I thought that only happened in movies!”

Keigo waves lazily, but he doesn’t drop down into the crowd. With this many people, and with a parade in progress, there’s no way it could end without injury. Instead, he flaps away to another portion of the festival, keeping just ahead of the cries over his appearance. 

Mission to be seen: accomplished, he thinks wryly, finding an alleyway just off the main road that feeds into some of the backstreets. He flairs his wings out and lets himself drift to the ground below, the tips of his primaries brushing against the bricks on either side of him. Landing softly, he looks around to see if anyone has noticed him, but there’s no stampede down the narrow street, so he takes it as a win and pulls his wings close to his back.

He’s tempted to just walk right over to the location Akio had mentioned in the video, but he knows that’s not the wisest idea. If he gets seen by anyone…

A mental image of someone needing help from emergency services only to be stalled by a crowd of fans makes a shiver run down his spine.

Gotta blend in, then, he thinks wryly, glancing around to get his bearings. Behind him is the parade, still in full swing, but scattered throughout the back streets are sure to be vendors selling festival-themed attire, which would range from traditional kimono to hip hop clothing to flamboyant fairy costumes, depending on what troupe they were representing. Truly, it was a mixed bag of performances, which was one of the reasons it was among the most popular festivals in Japan. If Keigo’s remembering correctly, there was even a group last year that did all hero-themed outfits, though he’d been in the middle of a villain fight and had missed the plethora of Hawkses who’d marched in the parade.

This year, it’s my turn, he thinks gleefully, biting his lip as he thinks, his wings flapping with excitement. He glances at them over his shoulder and sighs.

“Not with you though,” he tells both of the appendages sadly. “Up to the roof with you.”

A mass of red feathers detach from his back and fly up to the roof overhead, searching for a suitable hiding place to stay for the next couple of hours. Only a few linger behind, accepting Hawks’ jacket, gloves, headphones, and visor before following behind the rest. Two primaries remain behind, slipping around his waist like a belt.

He never goes fully unarmed, after all. 

Keigo looks down at himself critically, then strips his shirt off, turning it inside out so that the Commission logo is hidden against his skin. In just a black t-shirt and cargo pants, with his wings tiny little nubs tucked between his shoulder blades, Keigo is a lot less noticeable. Hopefully enough so that he can buy a change of clothes.

With that done, Keigo trots down the back alleys, heading toward the noise of the vendors calling out their wares to passing parade-goers, privately thrilled at getting to go undercover for fun.

—--

“Your turn, you traitor,” Touya says with zero room for argument in his voice. Marina looks up innocently from her phone as if she hadn’t just updated their TigTog with another inciting video of Touya drinking water, captioned #HydrateOrDiedrate.

“Who, me?” she asks, fluttering her lashes. Touya throws a pair of gloves at her and rises from his seat next to their travel cot, where he’d seen no less than fifteen patients over the last half hour. What the hell.

There’s an actual groan from the semi-line that’s still trickling in, but Touya doesn’t have the spoons to care at the moment. He may be one of the only ones with advanced EMT training, but all of the firefighters have their certifications. They can handle whatever comes in for the next half hour while he takes a break.

Following the stone path away from the tents, he heads toward the back of the small park, feeling his shoulders release the tension they’d been holding. As much as his ‘pretty boy’ status was funny sometimes, it wasn’t often he actually had to interact with his ‘fans’ in person. 

Wonder how Hawks deals with it, he thinks as he wipes a trickle of sweat from his temple. The thought has a small smile pulling at his lips. 

Bet he just flies away to the next rescue or whatever, he muses, finding a shady patch under a tree and collapsing onto his back with a gusty sigh of relief. He tucks his hands under the back of his head, gazing up at the sun-dappled leaves above him, thoughts of the hero circling around his head. 

Hawks has been on his mind quite a bit since their meeting last week, which is frustrating, to say the least. It’s hard to say what the source of the frustration is, though, since there are so many options to choose from. Like, Hawks being a hero, him not taking care of himself and still trying to do a high-risk job, him being actually cute in person, which shouldn’t be allowed. 

So many points of frustration. And Touya had invited more frustration on himself when he’d gone and given the hero an open invitation to the station breakfasts. Damn, when did he get so soft?

Bout the same time you decided a hero needed your help. 

He feels his phone buzz in his pocket and lets himself be distracted momentarily, pulling out his phone and glancing at his messages.

Natsu: don’t forget, incoming tomorrow

Natsu: fuyumi told me to remind u

Touya sighs. He's not forgotten that his family is going to be in town. It’s a problem for tomorrow Touya, though. For the moment, he’s just enjoying the shade and the breeze working its way through the park, cooling his overheated body.

He dozes for a bit, trying not to think about his pending reunion or pretty winged heroes, without much success.

“You know, I just saw a video on CPR,” a familiar voice says from somewhere overhead. Touya’s eyes snap open to see - Hawks? Hawks in casual clothes?  - leaning against the tree next to him, a broad smile on his face. “Should I check for a pulse?”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, Touya thinks with a great deal of irony. Then Hawks’ words register. 

Damn, did the devil just flirt with me?

Outwardly, he plays off his surprise with cool amusement.

“I take it you found our TigTog?” he drawls. 

Hawks raises both hands in surrender, his grin turning sheepish. “Guilty as charged. Was invited to the festival and hoped to see some friendly faces.”

Touya’s got a snarky comeback on the tip of his tongue about stalkers and Hawks’ skewed perception of friendly, but he restrains himself when he notices just how uncertain the hero looks behind that charming smile. It’s all in the stiffly held shoulders and the way he’s rocking back on his heels as if anticipating an attack.

He takes a breath, then lets it go.

“You said you got invited?” he asks, craning his head up to look around, both eyebrows raised when he doesn’t see anyone else. “But you’re by yourself?”

Hawks shrugs. “The mayor’s office wanted me to stop by. Do some PR. So I did a fly-by to be seen, but since he didn’t specify how much PR I needed to do…” Hawks smiles a private, satisfied smile. “I figured I’d hang out with the crowd for a bit, incognito.”

Touya has his doubts that anyone looking like Hawks could ever be truly incognito, especially with his psycho fans who knew everything about him from his shoe size to his favorite chicken restaurant, but he’s not gonna tell the hero that to his face.

Last thing he needs is an ego boost, he thinks, sitting upright. He can feel bits of grass and dirt clinging to the back of his sweaty t-shirt, but there’s not much he can do about it unless he wants to risk the hose. It’s a stark contrast to Hawks, who looks nice in the threads he’s chosen for the day. 

He’s wearing a half-traditional, half-streetwear getup, including a white t-shirt under a deep blue haori with a thick red obi tied around his middle, pulling the oversized overshirt tight around his waist. In lieu of his normal tan cargo pants, he’s also changed into a pair of flowy black hakama that swish around his ankles as he shifts from foot to foot. Touya notices Hawks is also sporting a pair of traditional tabi rather than his normal boots. The straw sandals crunch on the dry grass next to Touya’s hip and he notes the hero isn’t wearing socks with them. 

Hawks looks comfortable. Casual. And just a touch nervous.

“Playing hooky?” Touya asks, trying to distract himself from the fine bones of Hawks’ feet and ankles. “Good for you.”

He’s a little surprised by how much he means that.

“I’ve never been to the festival itself,” Hawks admits. Touya’s eyebrows go up and the hero bites his lip. “Never had time before. Kinda wanna see what all the hubbub is about, ya know?”

Touya thinks about that for a second, then he sticks a hand up, silently asking for an assist. Hawks takes his meaning and clasps his hand, lifting him off the ground with ease. 

A… lot of ease, damn. Touya’s not exactly a lightweight.

“You heading back to work?” Hawks asks as Touya leans down to brush grass bits off himself. He glances up to see the hero pulling a pair of aviator sunglasses off the top of his head and sliding them onto his face. His smile is fake as fuck. “That’s cool - I just wanted to drop in and say hi. Really gotta check out the food stands too - I can smell the yakitori from here. Not to mention the parade. I wonder if there’s the hero themed troupe this year? Have you -”

“I was gonna check in with the others and see if they could do without me for an hour,” Touya says, just to stop the stream of words. He blinks, not having meant to say it quite so bluntly, though he can’t bring himself to regret it when Hawks’ face breaks out in a genuine grin.

“Oh?” he asks, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Any special reason?”

Touya rolls his eyes and strolls toward the tents, Hawks following in his wake. “I saw thirty ‘patients’ this morning already. The others can take over for a bit. That’s my reason.”

“Was there some kind of incident?” Hawks asks, tone suddenly a lot more alert. Touya shakes his head.

“No. And even if there were an incident, aren’t you off the clock?” He gives Hawks a pointed look. “You don’t have to be a hero twenty-four-seven, you know.”

Hawks rakes a hand through his hair, bringing back that fake sheepish smile. “I know! Just was curious.”

Touya scoffs. Yeah right. “There were quite a few people suffering from heat exhaustion. It wasn’t anything serious.”

“Good to hear, good to hear,” Hawks says, slowing his step until he’s paused beneath one of the trees. Touya looks at him askance.

“Just gonna hang here while you check in,” he says, looking over Touya’s shoulder at the first responder tents, where patients and workers are milling about. He almost looks wistful. “Would love to say hi to the others, but if one person recognizes me and word gets out… I don’t want this place overrun.”

Oh, yeah. It’d been bad enough when it was just Touya bringing in unnecessary traffic. Imagining the crowd Hawks would draw makes Touya shudder.

“Good thinking,” he says, stamping down on the twinge of sympathy he feels at Hawks not being able to do anything normal. Not even greet a group of new acquaintances. 

And I was getting overwhelmed by just our TigTog following…

Feeling inexplicably irritated on Hawks’ behalf, he stalks over to the firefighter tent without another word, finding Toshiro unoccupied and dragging him to the side.

“Whassup?” the firefighter asks lightly, giving Touya a bright smile that leaves him blinking spots from his eyes. “You back on duty? Thought you were taking a break?”

“I am,” Touya confirms. “You and Akio are on backup EMT duty. I’m going to walk around for a bit. Mingle, or whatever.”

Toshiro’s eyebrows arch and his grin stretches wider, showing off more of his quirk-bright teeth. “Oho? Are you meeting someone here?”

Touya glares, ignoring the question. “You know, I was gonna bring you back takoyaki. But since you clearly don’t want any…”

“Wait! Wait wait,” Toshiro pleads, clasping his hands in front of his suddenly contrite face. “I promise not to pry if you bring me back takoyaki, oh sweet bestie Touya.”

“Never call me that again, and you have a deal,” Touya says with all the imperiousness of an older brother who hasn’t forgotten how to assert dominance. Toshiro bows to him with great exaggeration and much chanting of “bless you, sir Touya, feeder of us puny firefighters.” Touya rolls his eyes but gives the idiot a salute anyway before he saunters back to where Hawks is waiting in the dappled shadows of the trees.

“Remind me to pick up takoyaki on the way back,” he tells the hero, who falls into step with him as soon as he draws level. Hawks grins crookedly.

“Was that the price of your escape?” he asks lightly, reaching the side gate of the shrine first and holding it open for Touya, who huffs before answering.

“I already paid the price by seeing the first influx of patients,” he says flatly, looking around to orient himself in the narrow alley they’ve entered. “Is there anything in particular you wanna do?” He glances over at the hero, who, despite looking casual about it, is clearly at a loss.

“I uh…” he begins. “I dunno, to be honest. What do you do at a festival?”

Touya shakes his head but refrains from telling Hawks how sad it is that he doesn’t know. He gets the feeling the hero is already aware.

He mentioned smelling the food stalls when he was babbling earlier. Seems like as good a place as any to start.

“Food,” he says, clearly and firmly. “You absolutely have to try the food first. Everything after that is negotiable.”

Hawks brightens considerably, and Touya gets the impression that if the hero was still wearing his wings, they’d be perked up at his back. 

Huh, he thinks. Where are his wings?

“Can we do karaage first?” the hero asks, unable to mask his eagerness.

Touya shrugs. “Sure, we got plenty of time.”

“Hell yeah.” Hawks grins, and Touya feels something cramp inside his chest. He clears his throat, trying to ignore whatever heartburn he’s experiencing.

“Well, c’mon, then,” he says, nodding toward the crowd ahead. They’ve reached the backside of the parade viewers. “Let’s see if we can elbow our way to some food.”

Hawks’ eyes glitter with delight.

“Lead the way.”

Chapter Text

Keigo is no stranger to yatai stands - the temporary food stalls that pop up during events and special occasions - but there is something kind of magical about approaching one without being noticed. Maybe the incognito fit is really working.

Or, you know, maybe it’s the wall of muscle blocking me from view, he thinks somewhat desperately as Touya uses the arm over his shoulder to tug him closer.

“Close one,” the firefighter whispers in his ear. “Whole group of teenagers in Hawks merch passing behind us. Don’t turn around if you value your eardrums.”

“Right!” he says with forced steadiness while his inner self bites its metaphorical fist to muffle the yelling. “Thanks for the warning. The screaming can be a bit much without my headphones.”

“I bet,” Touya laughs, his breath tickling Keigo’s cheek. “Speaking of, where’s all your gear? Don’t think I’ve ever seen you out in public in your casuals before.”

“Ah, I actually got here in my hero outfit. It’s all up on a rooftop -” he gestures back toward the alley he’d landed in “- somewhere that way. I’ll pick it up when I head back.”

Touya’s eyebrows shoot up.

“So what you’re telling me is that you stashed your entire hero outfit somewhere in a crowd of thousands of people?” he says incredulously, glancing up at the rooftops overhead “You realize if someone finds it, they could sell it for like… thousands of yen on eDay. Actually, forget that - tell me where it is and I’ll sell it for thousands of yen on eDay.”

Keigo snorts in surprise. 

“What if a villain suddenly attacks?” he asks. “You want me to fight them in my civvies just for the sake of your eDay dreams?” He shakes his head, standing up on his tiptoes so he can see the food menu over the heads in front of him. As an afterthought, he adds, “Besides, selling one of your dad’s costumes would be way funnier.”

“Oh my god,” Touya snickers. His arm is still loosely wrapped around Keigo’s shoulder, so the laughter shakes both of them. “That’s brilliant.”

Keigo glances at him to see his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. Just as quickly he looks away. 

“Do it for a firefighter charity,” he says, warming to the idea. “It’d be like your Titter page come to life.”

“Holy shit, hang on,” Touya pulls his arm from Keigo’s shoulder and tugs out his phone. “I gotta text my brother. He’s got a mission now.”

Curious, Keigo asks, “Are you charging your brother with acquiring one of your dad’s old costumes?” 

“Yeah,” Touya laughs. “He’s the golden kid so he basically gets whatever he wants. If he asks for an old costume, he’ll get it. And it’ll be funnier for charity than the usual calendar.”

“Calendar?” Keigo asks, intrigued. If it’s the kind of calendar that usually comes from fire stations, he might uhh… he might need to look into previous issues. Possibly on eDay.

Touya shoots him a look, his eyebrow arched and a smirk playing at his lips as if he can guess what Keigo is thinking. It’s a bit mortifying and at the same time… exciting. Touya’s proved already that he can read Keigo like a book, and if the firefighter knows he's interested…

He has to have guessed by now, he thinks as Touya returns to texting his brother, apparently satisfied with making Keigo blush. So if he’s not acting on it… is it because he doesn’t care? He didn’t seem to like heroes much when we first met and he only warmed up to me after breakfast. Keigo’s wings droop somewhat before he reminds himself that Touya is here with him now and that not everyone moves as fast as Keigo does.

Never mind that this is the first crush I’ve had since… what, before I debuted? Keigo thinks self-deprecatingly. Just… take it slow. See where it goes. Try not to freak him out in the meantime.

“Text sent,” Touya says triumphantly as he stuffs his phone back in his pocket. He doesn’t reclaim Keigo’s shoulder, but that’s okay. Keigo’s totally okay with that. Perfectly fine. Instead, the firefighter nods to the food stand, which they’re next in line for.

“Okay, pick your poison - they’ve got spicy and not spicy karaage, along with -” he cranes his head up “- like six kinds of sauces. Basic, but damn it smells good.”

Keigo, whose eyes are firmly fixed on the corded muscles of Touya’s neck, nods in agreement, trying to convince himself that the smell of food is what has his mouth watering.

“Yeah, basic,” he says distantly. He blinks, trying to clear his head. “I’m a spicy guy, though.”

“I believe it,” Touya says, stepping up to the stand and holding up two fingers before Hawks can register what he’s doing. “Two orders of spicy karaage, one with green onion sauce and one with…” he looks at Keigo.

“Honey mayoster,” Keigo supplies, reaching for his wallet. Touya beats him to it, though, handing enough yen to cover them both. A flush creeps up the back of Keigo’s neck.

“You didn’t have to -” he begins, but Touya cuts him off with a wave.

“Consider it a congratulatory meal for busting out of your cage for the day,” he says with a grin, gladly accepting the two paper plates with a quick “thank you” before nodding for Keigo to follow him out of the line. He hands over Keigo’s portion without fanfare. “Huzzah for not working today, birdie. Thrilled for ya.”

Keigo smiles, ducking his head.

“Yeah, yeah. Itadakemasu.”

The chicken tastes as good as it smells, and Keigo hums happily as they meander through the crowds. There are so many bright colors, excited voices, and amazing food smells. It’s a bit overwhelming. He’s almost glad he left his feathers behind. 

Touya strolls alongside him, seeming content to let the crowd part around him. He’s solid, like a rock in the middle of a river. And maybe it’s because Keigo is always so ‘go go go’ that he finds himself really liking that steadiness - that quiet confidence.

“You any good at festival games?” Touya asks, popping another piece of chicken into his mouth as he nods at another bunch of pop-up stands that crowd a side street. “Looks like they’ve got all the classics - goldfish scoops, rifles, ring toss, yo-yo fishing…”

“Never tried any of them,” Keigo admits, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “First festival where I wasn’t up on stage or something, y’know?”

Touya’s expression does something weird, like he’s trying to suppress some level of offense. Keigo almost thinks it’s directed at him, but then the firefighter is grabbing his wrist and dragging him determinedly toward the booths, tossing their empty plates on the way.

“C’mon then. Bout time you put those hero reflexes to use.”

Keigo flushes but allows himself to be maneuvered in front of the game with the tiny toy rifle and about a dozen targets lined up across the back wall of the booth. The teen running the stall looks a bit surprised to see them but takes the yen Touya hands over without complaint, then explains the rules.

“The gun has cork pellets,” the girl says before pointing at the targets. “All you have to do is knock the targets down, and you win a prize.”

Keigo nods as seriously as he has at any mission briefing and brings the small gun up to his shoulder, bracing it while he lines up his sight. It seems straightforward enough, though he does feel foolish wielding a gun that’s clearly meant for children.

All embarrassment is immediately replaced with internal screaming when Touya leans in and cups a hand against his ear.

“Don’t let the targets fool you,” he whispers, sending shivers skittering across Keigo’s skin. “Aim toward the top of the target to knock it over. If you hit the bullseye, it won’t budge.”

“Okay,” Keigo croaks before clearing his throat and realigning his sight. Holy shit, his hands are actually trembling a bit.

Get it together, man, he tells himself, breathing deeply as he takes Touya’s advice and aims toward the top of the metal rectangle. They’re all attached to metal hinges at the bottom, so his advice makes sense. It was good, sensible advice, and that’s all.

Keigo releases a breath and pulls the trigger.

PLINK!

The first target flips backward from the force, falling over with the direct hit. Keigo lowers the gun and whips around to grin at Touya, delighted and - 

Touya’s smirking back at him, blue eyes dancing. Keigo’s heart fucking rebounds off his ribs, the man is so pretty.

“Better hurry, birdie - you’re on a timer.”

Keigo’s eyes dart back to the game, spying the timer that’s counting down with twenty seconds left. 

“Oh, shit!”

He raises the rifle back to his shoulder, takes aim and -

PLINK!

Fifteen seconds left.

PLINK, PLINK, PLINK!

Ten seconds, and seven targets to go.

Training takes over. Quick eyes and quicker reflexes guide his way. 

PLINK, PLINK, PLINKPLINKPLPLPLINK!

All the targets are down, and the timer still shows seven seconds to spare. The teenager manning the booth looks stunned, while Touya lets out a low whistle.

“Not bad, birdie,” he says, giving Keigo a couple of slow claps. By the way his dark eyebrows are raised, the praise is genuine, not sarcastic, and Keigo’s little wings flutter beneath his shirt.

“Thanks,” he says, feeling breathless. “That was fun! What do we do next?”

“You don’t want your prize for winning?” Touya asks, taking a step closer, an amused smile tugging at his lips. 

“Prize?” Keigo’s throat is dry. The way Touya is looking at him is making him think of all kinds of prizes he’d be more than happy to accept. 

“Yeah,” Touya says easily, nodding at the booth. “It’s kinda the point of playing, birdbrain.”

Keigo follows the gesture and notices all the plush animals and kitschy plastic toys lining the shelves. He blinks slowly, recognizing that some of the plushies are actually heroes and that he can see a whole stack of ones with red wings and fuzzy jackets.

“I, uh.” He looks at the teenager for help. “I guess I got a prize?”

She nods and points at the largest ones near the top of the booth. “You got all the targets - you’re eligible for the biggest prizes.”

“Um,” he looks at the large stuffed animals, then back at Touya. “Help?”

Touya laughs, then leans over the booth barrier and plucks a little Hawks plush off the wall. Upon closer inspection, it’s not even official merch - it’s off-brand SuperHero Bawks! merch.

“He’ll take this,” Touya says, waggling the thing at the stunned teen, who hadn’t even told him off for grabbing items from behind the counter. “Have a nice day.”

“Y-you too,” the girl says, looking starstruck.

I feel your pain, friend, Keigo thinks at her as Touya slings his arm back over his shoulder and guides him away, inspecting their prize as he does. 

“God, the off-brand merch is the best,” he laughs, passing the toy to Hawks. “Look at his silly little beard.”

Obediently, Keigo looks down at the little plush. Its beard actually looks no different than the official merch he usually sees. Though the slightly off-center eyes…

It takes him a solid thirty seconds to realize he’s been insulted.

“Hey!” he exclaims, a hand shooting to his scruff. “My beard is fine, thank you!”

“If that’s what helps you sleep at night, sure, birdie.”

“Rude!”

—---

They play all the games, despite the fact it seems to be mostly kids doing them. Touya says no one cares and that everyone should get to play the games at least once in their life, and Keigo simply rolls with it. Why not? If he gets to see Touya smiling and laughing at his antics, that’s a W in his books.

They fish for water balloons, they toss rings onto bottles that seem to have a forcefield around them, and they win goldfish that they both regrettably can’t keep. Keigo gives them to a little girl whose net kept breaking, and Touya gives her a tiny lecture on how best to care for them. She beams as she walks back to her parents, already heeding Touya’s advice not to run with the fish lest she trip and break the bags.

“Cute kid,” Touya says, still crouched down from where he’d been chatting with her. “My sister and I got goldfish at our first festival. Good old Goldie and Scaly.”

Keigo snorts, and Touya wags a finger up at him.

“Don’t you start on their names. We were super original, end of story.”

“Sure, sure,” Keigo laughs, offering Touya a hand up. The firefighter takes it, his warm palm strong and solid in Keigo’s own.

“You ever have any pets?” Touya asks as they continue back to the main parade, leaving the games behind. Keigo shakes his head, thinking hard.

Usually, when asked questions that could have answers from his childhood, he deflects or otherwise moves on from the question. Now, though…

It’s not breaking an NDA if it’s vague enough, right?

“Couldn’t really afford a pet when I was a kid,” he expands, heart racing at giving away even that tiny tidbit. “And when I went into hero training, I didn’t have the time.” He smiles at Touya, hoping the man can’t smell the terror and elation flooding his system right now. “I would’ve loved a goldfish though - they’re so shiny!”

Touya cocks an eyebrow at him, a small smile playing at his lips. “I thought that was a magpie thing?”

Keigo places a hand to his chest. “Hey now! Liking shiny things doesn’t have to be a bird trait. I’ll have you know I simply like them.”

Touya hums his agreement and reaches up to brush his fingers under Keigo’s earlobe, making his ruby studs flash in the sun. “You have good taste, at least.”

Keigo nearly faints.

Fortunately, the crowd roars around them at that moment, cheers surging up through the decibels as another section of the parade approaches. Keigo and Touya find themselves being pressed toward the main road as the crowd pushes forward, until finally, Keigo can see what all the hubbub is about.

“Oh, that’s kind of embarrassing,” he says, pushing his aviators tighter to his face, while Touya laughs next to him.

In prior years, there had been a hero costume portion of the parade, and given that it was being held in Fukuoka, it made sense that Hawks was a popular cosplay option. 

This year… they’d upped the ante.

“I hope you get royalties for that!” Touya has to yell into Keigo’s ear as a massive float bearing a banner of his face approaches. There are red wings folded in along the side of the float, and it’s all done in golds, reds, and blacks, mimicking his color scheme. The windshield is even tinted yellow like his visor.

It’s also crawling with Hawks cosplayers, who are tossing out red and gold beaded necklaces and Hawks plushies into the crowd.

And the people are obsessed. 

“I don’t!” Keigo calls back, laughing and blushing furiously. “The Commission might, though!”

Touya’s reply is lost in another surge of cheers as the wings along the side of the float begin to extend, lifting up like it’s going to take off into the sky. It’s genuinely a masterful display of engineering and creativity.

Too bad it’s causing the crowd to lose their minds.

“We’re gonna get crushed,” Keigo wheezes as a band of screaming girls pushes against his back, knocking his sunglasses askew with the force. Touya reaches out to steady him when someone else shoves him to get a close-up shot of the float.

The shove sends Touya straight into Keigo’s chest, almost toppling the both of them, if not for the crowd holding them up, and for a moment, they’re breathing each other’s excited air, their lips barely an inch apart. Touya’s eyes are wide, and Keigo can’t help staring into them, all the noise of the crowd going mute for an eternal moment of ‘ oh god, they’re so blue…’

Then Touya is wrapping an arm around his shoulder again and dragging him through the crowd, panic written into his features.

“One of those girls recognized you!” he yells into Keigo’s ear. “She was pointing at you and screaming - we gotta go!”

Adrenaline courses through Keigo’s body as he’s dragged through the crowd slightly behind Touya, who takes the brunt of the “sorry, excuse me, coming through!” shoves to get them out of the crowd. And, like a dope, the only thing he can think is:

I’ve never been the one to get saved before.

—---

When they finally emerge on the other side of the Hawks float frenzy, Touya’s halfway between gasping for air and laughing. Because what the fuck.

If Hawks had been seen by more people, I’d have been trampled. Is this what he deals with daily?

“Definitely need some crowd control back there,” he gets out, tugging his phone from his pocket and typing a one-handed text to the police chief on duty. Because even though adrenaline has him laughing, he’s being a hundred percent serious. “You need to be less popular, I swear.”

“I wish,” Hawks mutters, catching Touya’s attention. He shoots off the text, then turns his eyes down to the hero. Which is when he realizes he has the man in a near-headlock. 

“Shit, sorry,” he says, releasing him. Hawks looks distinctly ruffled, but not angry. “Went fully into ‘protect the victim’s head’ mode there. My bad.” 

“Been there before,” the hero laughs, running his fingers through his sweaty hair. “Ever scooped someone off the street so they avoid stepping in gum? People usually aren’t prepared to suddenly be ten feet off the ground.”

Touya laughs, relieved that he hadn’t offended the hero by dragging him around. Still, Hawks looks a little shaken.

“Wanna grab a boba?” he asks, in lieu of sticking his nose in the hero’s business. He’s gotten enough tidbits of Hawks’ celebrity existence today to know it’s not all sunshine and autographs. “I’m fucking hot after all that back there.”

Hawks bites his lip, trying to hold back a grin. Touya scowls at him.

“No firefighter jokes allowed. We get enough of those at the station.”

“Wasn’t gonna,” Hawks says, dragging his fingers across his lips in a zipping motion. “But yes, I’d love boba. The sweeter, the better.”

“Gross,” Touya says, leading the way through the crowds toward the next line of food stalls he can see. “You and Akio and your sweet tooths. Teeth? Whatever.”

Keigo laughs brightly, keeping pace at his side. “Is his favorite breakfast the American-style one? I swear I almost went into a food coma after, but it was worth it.”

“Yes, it’s his favorite,” Touya snorts. “That, and when we do the ice cream drive. Last year I caught him with an entire tub of vanilla ice cream when he was supposed to be passing it out to the kids in the neighborhood.”

That gets him another laugh, and Touya feels warmth pooling in his stomach that has nothing to do with the sun beating down on them. 

“And you said the chicken and rice breakfast was Marina’s favorite?” Keigo says, surprising Touya with his memory. “Won’t lie, I’m looking forward to that one. What about you, though? Anything but the traditional breakfast, right?”

And he remembers that, too. First, he picks up a case way below his pay grade, then he pays attention to the shit we say… Touya thinks wryly. How dare he be an outlier in my lifetime of hero experiences.

“It’s just the fish I don’t like,” he admits. “Miso and rice and shit - that’s all fine.”

“Noted,” Hawks says, tugging Touya’s elbow to avoid a puddle of spilled soda. “So what’s your go-to boba flavor?”

“Black sesame.”

Hawks’ mirth-filled eyes peek over his sunglasses and track to Touya’s hair. “Black sesame, black hair, black coffee in the morning... I'm sensing an emo trend.”

“Shut it,” Touya grumps, shoving the laughing hero away. There’s zero heat in it, and his siblings would even call him out on the absolutely wimpy retort, but Hawks’ eyes widen, and Touya finds himself tugging the man back by the wrist as he tries to back off.

“Kidding, birdie,” he says. “Just kidding. Emo jokes are fair play. Most jokes are fair play, to be honest.” He shoots Hawks a look. “I take it you’re an only child? Which you don’t have to answer, by the way.”

Hawks looks down at Touya’s hand around his wrist, then back up again, his expression cheerful once more.

“Guilty as charged!” he says, before using Touya’s grip to pull him into the boba line. “Now come on - I’m freaking thirsty.”

Note to self, Touya thinks, watching Hawks continue to chatter about different flavors and how he once choked on a tapioca pearl as if nothing had happened. Childhood is a tender subject.

He blinks hard, repressing the irony coiling in his guts. Still, he can’t help but think:

You and me both, hero.

—---

Eventually, Touya’s allotted hour away from his squad has to come to an end, even if Keigo feels like he could spend days with Touya without noticing time passing. The firefighter is funny, sarcastic, kind, hot, and not in the least bit daunted by Keigo’s status. It’s as refreshing as it is intimidating if he’s being honest.

“Still gotta pick up takoyaki for the guys,” Touya sighs as they meander past the stalls and parade performances, heading toward the park where the emergency services had set up camp. “You up for hitting the food stalls again?”

“Frankly, with the number of calories I burn, I could stay at the food stands all day and happily eat them out of stock,” Keigo snorts. Touya glances at him sharply.

“And yet, you mostly eat protein bars?”

See, that’s another thing that Keigo likes about Touya. He’s sharp. Even if that sharpness can cut Keigo, too.

“When I’m on patrol, yeah,” he admits. “It’s not all the time.”

Just more often than I’d like.

Touya refrains from pushing further, even though it looks like he’d like to. Instead, he forgoes the food stands and pulls Keigo over to look at all the festival merch and clothing being sold along the edge of the parade. It’s similar to the items he looked through when he was picking out his disguise, though a bit lower quality given that it’s on the main road. Still, Keigo picks up a bracelet, a fan with a print of Fukuoka’s skyline on it, a little phone charm goldfish that he promptly names Fin (much to Touya's consternation), and a blue ring that Touya says he got scalped on but that still flashes prettily in the sun.

“Oh, hey, you haven’t seen these yet, have you?” 

Keigo looks up at the sound of Touya’s voice from the next stall over, and he’s immediately met by dozens of colorful faces staring back down at him. Apparently, this booth sells traditional masks.

“Wow,” Keigo marvels, moving to stand at Touya’s side even as his eyes trace over all the options. “There are a ton of them.”

“These are mostly the mythological ones,” Touya explains, pointing at the different ones. “Oni, kitsune, hyottoko, and so on.” He reaches for the white one with a snout and red stripes along the cheeks. “Fox spirit - all kinds of mischief and mayhem.” He smirks at Keigo over the top of the mask, blue eyes dancing. “Perfect for a goodie-two-shoes playing hooky, don’t you think?”

Keigo can feel the blush heating his face, but he doesn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he takes the mask in hand and flips it up so that it covers his face.

“I’d say perfect for a hero wanting to go unnoticed, but I already failed in that arena.”

Touya laughs. “Yeah, no shit. But if you wanna wander around the parade a bit more, it’s not a bad idea. Especially since I won't be there to cover for you.”

“True,” Keigo sighs. "I don't mind getting recognized, but today has been... nice."

It'd been more than nice. Keigo can't remember the last time he had so much fun and didn't have to be the one in charge - either by virtue of knowing what he was doing or by being the biggest personality in the room that everyone flocked to. Being with Touya kind of felt like running around with a friend.

Or being on a date, he thinks, biting his lip. 

Staring into the back of the mask he has held up to his face, Keigo wonders if Touya felt even remotely the same way, or if the firefighter was so used to friends and family that taking an hour to bum around with a lonely hero was nothing to him. Just another round of socializing that didn't feel world-shifting in significance the way it did to Keigo.

He swallows down the brief ache in the back of his throat. "I should probably head out, though."

It’s better than saying ‘It won’t be as much fun without you.’

“That’s fair,” Touya says thoughtfully. “Still…”

Keigo lowers the mask, eyebrows raised in question, trying not to appear too eager. Touya just shrugs.

“If you wanted to stick around - hang out with the crew? There’s gonna be fireworks later, and we’ll be on call for them, so…”

Oh.

An invitation to stay. To hang out with the rest of the firefighters until they wrapped up.

An invitation to watch the fireworks together.

Suddenly, Keigo’s tongue feels clumsy in his mouth, and he takes a sip of his boba to cover just how much he wants to accept.

“With the mask… yeah, I could stick around without giving y’all extra trouble,” he says, aiming for nonchalant. Touya makes a face, though.

“You don’t have to wear a mask. I was just - I meant if you were going to enjoy the festival without being harassed. But if you want to hang out, Renga can stand up front and keep any fans from blocking the EMTs. It’s not as if it’d be our first time keeping a scene clear of rubberneckers and interference. We'd keep you safe.”

Keigo’s heart flutters embarrassingly at the offer, but before he can respond, Touya tugs the mask out of his hands and puts it back on its hook, making the decision for him.

“C’mon, birdie, we’ve got takoyaki to buy, patients to see, and fireworks to monitor. Don’t think you’ve gotten off work just because you're playing hooky.”

Don’t cry, don’t you dare fucking cry you silly bird.

“Yeah,” Keigo gets out, his throat feeling tight. “That sounds like a lot of fun.”

—--

Renga makes an excellent emergency services bouncer. As does Airi and one of the police officers named Rin, who they find out had been saved by Hawks the year prior. Not a single person who isn’t in need of actual help makes it past them. And those who do need help, and see Hawks chilling with the firefighters?

They receive a finger held up to the hero’s lips and a conspiratorial wink.

Surprisingly, the system works. And Touya watches with something like aggressive positivity as Hawks gets the chance to mingle and laugh with those he usually only sees at the height of an emergency. It’s actually gratifying to watch him share stories, fail at arm wrestling Toshiro, and entertain a little girl with dancing feathers while Marina bandages her scraped knee.

Endeavor wishes he could’ve been this good a hero, Touya thinks at some point before he pushes those thoughts away. If he’s going to have to deal with his father over the next few days anyway, he’s not going to spare extra brain space for him now.

With that decided, Touya lets himself enjoy the atmosphere as the sun fades away and the street's multicolored lanterns begin to light. More food is brought by, and the firefighters fuel up, knowing there’s a chance that they’ll be working the rest of the night.

“Fireworks don’t often go awry,” he hears Airi explaining to Hawks while Touya dons what little gear he wears, ignoring Akio sticking his tongue out at him when he has to put on his hot, bulky jacket. “They’re pretty strongly regulated and all that. But it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

Hawks catches a ride with them to the lake near the end of the parade route where the fireworks will be launched. There are already hundreds of blankets spread out underneath the flowering trees, with people dressed in their parade finest, chatting and swapping snacks, waiting for the big finale. The space for the fire truck is blocked off by volunteers, who wave at the firefighters as they drive up and get hooked up to the water lines.

“I don’t usually get to see this part of the process,” Hawks says from his spot squished next to Touya. He’s still in his civvies and is peering interestedly out of the truck window. “Mostly just see the in-action bits.”

Because heroes usually swoop in once the majority of the work is done and take all the credit, Touya thinks automatically. Then he pauses, eyeing Hawks speculatively.

He hadn’t seen anything in the papers about Hawks helping out at the apartment fire. Usually, it’d be all over the front page and all the firefighters would be subjected to Chief Nakamura’s grumbling over the lack of credit they got, but…

Huh.

You just keep surprising me, don’t you?

“C’mon, I’ll show you how we test the hose for firework jobs,” Touya says, pulling himself up and hopping out of the truck. 

“You’re not gonna try and spray me outta the sky, are you?” Hawks asks, following behind. Touya laughs.

“Unless you’re on fire, no. Not today.”

“Generous of you.”

Akio forks over the hose when Touya asks, and he shows Hawks how it works, walking him through how to get a precise jet and how to just let it rip. Hawks’ little wings flap under his shirt when he has his back to Touya, and it’s not cute at all.

It is hilarious when Hawks just about blows himself off his feet when he opens the spout to full throttle.

“Holy shit, that thing is powerful!” he gasps, eyes blown wide as a laughing Akio takes the hose back. Touya snickers, patting him on the shoulder.

“S’okay, hero, not everyone can handle such a powerful release.”

Hawks sputters on a laugh and shoves Touya away, his face red under the flood lights.

Eventually, though, it’s time for the fireworks, and all of the firefighters prepare, checking their radios and their equipment. Their truck will be the one to address any fires occurring near the launch pad for the fireworks themselves, while other trucks will be on call for any stray sparks or misfired rockets that land further away.

As Touya looks over at the men preparing the first firework for launch, he suddenly remembers how fucking loud it was last year to be so close to the launch site. Before he can think better of it, he hops back on the truck and snags a pair of headphones from the operator’s seat.

Clambering out of the truck, he scales the ladder up to the roof where Hawks had settled in to watch the display, hands braced behind him and legs crossed at the ankle out in front. His head is tilted back to watch the sky and his sunglasses are pushed back into his hair, while the stupid Bawks plush sits in his lap like a mini-me.

He almost looks carefree like this.

The hero glances up at him with bright eyes and Touya has to smile back at him, unable to help himself. 

“Here,” he says, dropping to a knee next to the hero. And instead of handing the earphones over to Hawks, he places them over the hero’s ears himself, his fingertips brushing Hawks’ soft hair and even softer cheeks.

Wide-eyed, Hawks stares up at him, and all Touya can think to do is point toward the fireworks and mouth the word ‘loud’ at him. Then he’s off again, his heart pounding like crazy inside his ribs.

The first rocket launches as he lands on the grass, distracting him well enough, and Touya tracks its progress through the air until it explodes in a brilliant array of gold and green, far, far overhead. People cheer all along the sides of the lake, their voices a distant wave of appreciation.

Boom! goes another one a moment later, exploding into pinks and oranges with little sizzly trails of sparks at the end. Touya smiles at the display, then drags his eyes down to watch the launches instead.

Only, his eyes catch on Hawks, sitting atop the firetruck, his gaze arrested by the lights in the sky. As Touya watches, another firework bursts overhead in a massive spray of green and blue, and Hawks’ mouth drops open in a soft oh of appreciation.

That's when Touya closes his own mouth and gets back to work.

Chapter Text

Keigo’s flying high, both literally and figuratively, after the fireworks. He had a fun day, got to spend time with people who seemed to like him as a person rather than a hero, got to while away a whole hour with Touya, and was sent off with cheers of ‘See you Tuesday, Hawks!’ 

The thought makes him giddy, honestly. That there are people who look forward to seeing him.

Not that he doesn’t have fan meets or talk shows or even more heartfelt one-on-one meetings with fans, but the expectation is always that he’ll have to perform. He imagines it’s the same for those working at coffee shops. They can have pleasant, surface-level chats with customers - even form acquaintanceships with regulars - but at the end of the day, they’re still doing a job. It’s only when they go home that the mask drops and they can be themselves.

Keigo rarely lets his mask drop. Or masks, honestly, since he has one for every occasion. He has an obedient, if cheeky, one for the Commission. An easy-going cool guy for his fans. A professional, slightly thoughtless, boss for his sidekicks. And a rude challenger to his fellow heroes.

And sure, there are the one-off masks - the kind guy who helps a granny across the street, and the dude who’s not gonna yell at a baby for chewing on his feathers. Often they get bundled up in the overall Hawks package and are pulled out as needed.

Keigo doesn’t mind most of his masks, truly. They’re not built on nothing after all. If left to his own devices, he’d still help a granny across the street, and he still wouldn’t yell at a baby. Maybe he’d pull his feathers away rather than endure the slobber, but again - the masks are just an enhancement of his base personality.

He’s a little rude, a little thoughtless, and a little easy-going on a regular day. Hawks is just a much louder version of himself. A mask he can don at the drop of a hat.

Which is probably why Touya and the firefighters have him so… pleasantly wrong-footed. They just brought him into their little circle, handed him a box of takoyaki, and chatted with him about the festival, while fending off his would-be admirers without batting an eye.

Keigo had even offered to wear a literal mask to spare them the trouble, but Touya had shot him down, saying the firefighters would be more than capable of keeping him safe.

And they had. 

He’d watched from one of the folding chairs as they redirected fans and rubberneckers with gentle but firm reminders that Keigo was with emergency responders and that the area needed to be kept clear for actual emergencies. It was so easy then to just… relax.

The thought makes him smile even harder as he flies home, thinking about trading jokes and snacks and stories with the crew as the parade passed by. Thinking about Touya coming and going as his EMT duties called, and how the firefighter always came back to sit beside Keigo. Keeping him company. Keeping him from the temptation of donning another mask because it was more comfortable than wearing his own face.

How is it that I just met him a week ago and I already feel more at ease around him than half the people I’ve known for years?

Keigo sighs happily, and even in the privacy of the empty sky, he knows he sounds besotted. It’s a bit embarrassing, actually, and he only hopes Touya and the other firefighters hadn’t picked up on it. Or at least, didn’t realize how down bad Keigo was.

He’s so deeply buried in warm fuzzies, that he almost startles out of the air when his phone rings loudly in his pocket, heralding a call from his handler. Given the fact his hero shift is over for the day, it can only be his other job they’re calling about, which has Keigo fighting a grimace as he tugs his phone free and presses it to his ear.

“Hawks here,” he greets, feeling tension crawl up his spine.

“Hello, Hawks,” his handler, Diamond, replies. “We hope you enjoyed your afternoon off.”

Oh, yikes. They really had let him off the leash for the festival, which can only mean they have a fucked up assignment coming down the pipeline for him. Possibly right now.

“I appreciated the opportunity to spend time with Fukuoka’s citizens,” Keigo answers. Then, unwilling to beat around the bush, he asks, “I take it you’ve got a job for me?”

“Indeed. The timeline has escalated on the mission you’ve been working. An intercepted text indicates the mole from Biolab Support is meeting with the Morita clan tonight. You need to find out when and where through your contacts with Morita’s men.”

Keigo’s guts go cold at the information, and he swallows hard, all good feelings from hanging with the firefighters dissipating completely. 

It’s not an impossible task... if Keigo is incredibly lucky and some of his connections pan out. He has the burner numbers for a few of his fellow loading lackeys, and he managed to sneak a couple of feathers into one of the boss’s vehicles last time they came to inspect the cargo being smuggled.

But to find the location and time of a high-level meeting between the lynchpin of the operation and the head of the yakuza clan… Keigo would have to be important. Or he’d have to have been playing this undercover gig for much longer than a month. A month in which he’d had to prove himself first with the monumentally tedious task of hauling boxes filled with equipment and guarding them through the night. Fuck, he’d been thrilled when the boss’s car stopped by and he could get a feather into the floorboard. At least then he felt like he’d done something.

Now, though. Now his handler is asking the near impossible of him. 

Keigo’s jaw tightens, mind already racing to try and address the insurmountable escalation he’s been tasked with.

“Understood,” he says, biting back the ‘are you fucking kidding me’ that so badly wants to burst forth. It won’t do any good, and he knows it.

“Excellent. Report back once you have the information, and we will stage a raid if time allows. If you cut it too close for backup, be prepared to lose your cover to intervene.”

Swallowing hard, fingers clenching his phone, Keigo nods.

“Yes, ma’am.”

—-

It takes hours.

Keigo pulls every string he can think of with the contacts he has. Suspicions are raised left and right as he pushes for a job tonight until he finally lands one with one of the middle-tier crews as a replacement guard. 

(They don’t need to know Keigo is the reason the original guard didn’t show up for work.)

From there, Keigo pushes his feathers throughout the warehouse, tagging every person involved and giving himself a vicious headache as he tries to eavesdrop on every conversation, hoping he’ll strike gold.

“C’mon, c’mon,” he mutters to himself through clenched teeth as he pretends to scan the area for nosy civilians. “One of you has to know something.”

Unfortunately, he hits copper at best, with one of the older guys mentioning another guard job happening at a “some rent-an-office downtown”, which is both nonspecific and possibly not even the right meeting.

Keigo doesn’t care. He knows that this job isn’t the exchange the Commission wants him to stop, and he doesn’t have a single other lead.

So, with grim determination, he gets the older guy alone.

“It’s kinda embarrassin’,” he says, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck, doing nothing to hide his native Fukuoka accent. “I needed a job tonight to get some extra cash and called around to all my buddies. This was the first place that reached out, but another buddy o’ mine just said there was an openin’ at the downtown job, and it’s payin’ way better. Thing is, he forgot to mention the exact location, and he’s not answerin’ his phone anymore. Overheard you mention the job, and was wonderin’ if you could lend me a hand?”

Said old man isn’t new to the game, however, and he gives Keigo a gimlet eye, full of suspicion.

“You got any proof you were called in for the job?” he asks shrewdly. “Maybe you can try your… friend again?”

Fighting a sigh, Keigo summons a primary to his hand from where he’d had it wrapped around his waist under his shirt. At the same time, he pulls out his hero license, as if the feather weren’t enough of a giveaway.

“I didn’t want to do this the hard way, man, but I need that address now. ”

Keigo doesn’t get the address, but he does get the name of the office rental business. The old thug wasn’t about to go toe-to-toe with the number two hero for the sake of information that, really, Keigo could’ve picked up anywhere. But he also wasn’t high enough on the food chain to know the precise location of the meeting.

After taking the man’s phone and scheduling a text to alert his buddies of his location in four hours, Keigo leaves the man bound up in a closet. The Commission would likely have classified the old thug as an acceptable loss if it meant Keigo could keep his cover, but they’re not here and Keigo is. So the old guy lives, and another door closes permanently behind Keigo, who can feel the clock ticking over his head like a death knell.

The knell gets louder when he searches the management company’s name and finds that they hold rent-an-office spaces all over the city, four of which are downtown alone. Gritting his teeth, Keigo takes off into the sky, hoping beyond hope that he’ll turn up something from his search.

As he flies, he keeps a tab on the couple of feathers he left behind at the warehouse, monitoring them to make sure no one raises the alarm over his or the old guys’ absence. The distance makes his eyes squint and his quirk strain, but Keigo’s not about to give the guys ahead of him a heads-up if he can help it.

He also calls his handler to let her know his next move, just in case the raid needs to be called in quickly. She tells him they’ll handle it if he’s actually on the right track.

Again, Keigo grits his teeth and gets back to work.

So much for a pleasant evening under the fireworks with friends, he thinks, chest aching at the reminder. Somehow, Touya placing headphones gently over his ears feels more like a lifetime ago than just a couple of hours.

Can’t think about him now. Just fly.

The first two buildings are a bust, as far as Keigo can tell. There are, of course, a few underhanded deals taking place in the unmonitored, discreet office spaces. White-collar crimes like insider trading, under-the-table deals, and selling of intellectual property. In the corporate equivalent of a motel, where anyone can get in bed with anyone else for the right price, it’s inevitable that Keigo will find some unsavory exchanges.

But none that match the meeting between the yakuza and their mole at Biolab Support. At least, none that Keigo can identify while he’s searching, which means absolutely nothing if the meeting has already happened or is scheduled for later in the night.

So, more feathers are left in his wake, monitoring the halls as unobtrusively as they can while Keigo wings off to the third building, his brain aching with the pressure of extending his mental “listening” across three different locations.

He catches a break at the third building, though.

Sending his feathers throughout the third building’s vents, just as he had with the last two buildings, Keigo filters through dozens of conversations before the words “ Biolab Support” finally catch his attention. From there, all he has to do is follow his feathers to the source, creeping as close as he can until he spies a guard posted at the end of the hall, indicating he’s hit the jackpot.

Fucking finally, he thinks, ready to cry as he lets his over-strained quirk relax. If all goes well tonight, he’ll even be able to do a flyover to gather the feathers back to his wings.

Don’t jinx yourself, Takami, he thinks, grimacing as he feels something hot drip over his lips. With a sigh, he uses the back of his glove to wipe away the blood, irritated by the side-effect of overusing his quirk.

Gotta worry about leaving a trail now. Ugh.

Pushing the thought away, he backs away from the guarded hall, retreating to the staircase and ascending the steps even as he listens to the conversation below with the feathers still in the vents. Pulling out his phone, he dials his handler, pressing his wrist to the underside of his bloody nose.

“I’ve found the deal taking place,” he says as soon as she picks up. “Fourteenth floor of the Kaiga office building, downtown. They’re meeting in the biggest conference room in the center of the floor.”

“Have you confirmed the mole is there?”

“Not visually, but it sounds as if he’s in the room with them,” Keigo reports. “They have guards posted at each end of the corridor.” He pauses. “Are you asking me to go ahead with a takedown? Or should I wait for the raid team?”

Part of him wants to be let off the leash. He can perform a multi-person capture in his sleep, which is where he’d like to be now, particularly if he’s supposed to be up for patrol in… approximately three hours. If his handler gives the go-ahead, he can be back home within an hour.

Then again, if all he has to do is monitor until the Commission raid arrives, that means he won’t have to deal with the paperwork afterward. Which would be really nice, since he’d planned on seeing Meiomi and Naiomi at the hospital after his shift.

“Wait for the raid to arrive,” Diamond instructs. “Unless they appear as if they’re about to leave, in which case you have our permission to capture with prejudice.”

“Fine by me,” Keigo says, relief filtering through his body in an almost physical wave. Once the raid arrives, he can go home. Maybe even sneak in a dream about fireworks and bright blue eyes and ridiculous festival games, if he’s lucky.

“Indeed,” Diamond hums. “Well done, Hawks. It is imperative that this meeting be interrupted, and I understand it was likely difficult to track down.”

Keigo swallows, feeling exhaustion drag at his bones while his migraine intensifies. They always do this - praise him for his hard work after he’s scraping rock bottom of his will to serve. And fuck if it doesn’t work every single time.

“Just doing my job,” he says quietly, taking a seat on the staircase and resting his elbows on his knees. His head hangs with how tired he is, and he watches a drop of blood splash to the floor between his boots. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a meeting to eavesdrop on.”

“We’ll leave you to it, then.”

—--

The raid is successful, but Keigo is required to stay on as backup the entire time. Which really means that he helps out with everything from capturing the baddies to escorting them to the armored trucks to negotiating reparations with the building’s management, as some of the quirks had gotten… out of hand.

That’s what happens when you get a bunch of mid-level quirks and give them support equipment that enhances their powers, Keigo thinks. 

He’d gotten away without any new injuries, though a paramedic had asked him about his nose when Keigo was trying to wipe the blood away. Keigo had played it off as dry sinuses and the paramedic hadn’t pressed, which was nice.

Will have to see about getting my migraine prescription updated, though, he thinks blearily. But not tonight.

Keigo is tired enough, staring with grainy eyes as the villains and Biolab mole are finally ferried away by the police. Then he sends a text to Diamond, letting her know it’s all handled.

She doesn’t respond, because even she’s asleep at five o’clock in the morning. Like Keigo should be.

No rest for the employed.

He cracks a huge yawn, blinks hard, then takes off from the taped-off investigation site, intent on getting home and getting at least a twenty-minute nap before he has to go back to work.

Just two more days, he reminds himself, thinking of his next breakfast with the firefighter team. And with this mission practically wrapped, I should be able to catch up on some sleep until the next assignment comes down the pipeline.

He smiles at the thought.

—--

Touya is frowning at the train station sign with its ever-updating information about arrivals and departures. If the information is right, and it always is, then his family will be arriving any moment now.

On the bright side, they’re not here for the whole week. Golden Week starts at the end of April and goes until May fifth every year, which means his family will only be in town for the last two days of it. It worked best since he’d been on call the entire parade, and lined up well enough with his family’s time off.

On the not-so-bright-side, he’s got an entire Sunday and Monday to put up with his father’s inability to chill (both literally and figuratively), his mother’s constant worry about his health and safety, and his sibling’s penchant for antagonizing him just for being the oldest. 

Not that those are bad things, necessarily. It’s just that Touya has gotten used to his dynamic at the fire station, and it can be a bit jarring to have the full force of the Todoroki family dropped back in his lap without preparing for it mentally.

Taking a deep breath, he decides to focus on the things he is looking forward to with his family. Like taking Rei to meet his crew, all of whom are already half in love with her. And taking his siblings to his favorite yakitori place downtown where they have an eighty-skewer challenge that Touya’s betting Natsuo can win, which means Touya will get free skewers for a month.

And also grilling his dad about… well, Hawks. 

He’s gotta know something, Touya reasons with himself. They’re in the top three together and if rumors are to be believed, Hawks is on track to be number two at the next billboards event. That’s insane at his age.

Touya hides a small smile, knowing that Hawks’ meteoric rise probably rankles his father to no end. Which is at least half the reason he plans on bothering the old man about it.

After all, some habits never die. 

The overhead announcement of the train’s arrival interrupts those thoughts, and Touya straightens a bit, peering down the track to see the Shinkansen arriving, each carriage gliding by until number 14 pulls to a stop in front of him. Touya takes a breath, squares his shoulders, and watches the doors slide open to reveal Fuyumi, her smile bright, and her squeal of excitement loud.

“Touya!” she cries, throwing herself off the train and into his arms. Touya catches her easily, turning the tackle into a spin, much to Fuyumi’s giggling delight. Over her shoulder, Touya can see Natsuo carrying his and Fuyumi’s luggage, followed by Shouto - who looks like he’s grown another two inches since he last saw them at New Year's - and their parents.

Rei beams at him while Enji gives Touya a nod of greeting. Touya notices his father easily handling Rei’s bags along with his own, and also the way he hovers at her back as she steps off the train, as if ready to catch her. The sight makes Touya hold his tongue on the bland welcome he’d half-formed for his father.

At least the couple’s therapy is still going strong, he thinks even as Natsuo wraps both him and Fuyumi into a bear hug.

“Nii-san, you owe me so much food,” Natsuo fake cries into his hair. “Always taking pics of the station breakfasts while knowing damn well I survive on ramen and tears at university.”

“Mom still sends you a care package twice a month,” Fuyumi scolds, her glasses digging into Touya’s cheek. “You’re far from starving.”

“Should we move off the platform?” Shouto asks dryly. He’s watching his three older siblings with his hands tucked into his pockets like a stick in the mud. After a moment of wriggling, Touya gets his hand free and drags the littlest stinker into the pile.

Shouto ‘oofs’ as he’s enfolded by limbs and swears and giggles, and Touya laughs as his two-toned hair gets ruffled into a staticky mess by Natsuo’s sleeve. Amongst the chaos, Touya catches sight of their mom laughing at them and their father frowning slightly. He arches an eyebrow at the old man and Enji tries to force his frown into a smile.

It’s kind of shitty, as far as smiles go, but it’s better than nothing.

“C’mon, guys,” Touya cajoles his now-bickering siblings. “Lunch is on me.”

“Are we going to those yatai stands you’re always bragging about?” 

“Nooo, he said he was taking us to the yakitori place! I have a competition to win!”

“You told me Okita-kun made us cookies!”

“He did,” Touya confirms, eyeing his sister with a beady gaze. He knows Okita has a big fat crush on Fuyumi and, as an older brother, he has unidentifiable emotions about that fact. “You can have some after I take you all to lunch.”

“That sounds nice,” Rei chimes in, placing a hand on Touya’s shoulder, quietly signaling that it’s time for the sibling ring to break up. “But we should drop our bags at the hotel first, shouldn’t we?”

Touya sighs. “Not necessary. A few of the guys are waiting downstairs to take your stuff. We have the next few days off and they have nothing better to do than be nuisances.”

Rei hides a smile behind her hand. “It sounds to me like they enjoy being helpful.”

“Yeah, well,” Touya rubs the back of his neck, fluffing his dyed hair as he starts them moving toward the exit. “Curse of being a firefighter, I guess. Always helping out, or whatever.”

He waits to hear if Enji is going to say anything about how heroes are the ones who help and make a difference in society, blah blah blah, but his dad remains silent as they trek down the stairs to the main station. 

Not sure what to make of the old man holding his peace, Touya turns his attention back to his siblings, because for some ungodly reason, Fuyumi wants to stop for souvenirs at one of the station shops even though she’s been to Fukuoka before, and Natsuo is right behind her, eyeballing a gift box of mochi as if he hadn’t just talked about lunch not five minutes ago. Touya has to herd them back to the gates, letting them scan their way out while he flashes firefighter ID at the station attendant, who waves him on through.

Outside the gates, they’re met by Akio, Okita, and Marina, all of whom had volunteered to come welcome the Todoroki family on their own days off. They greet his family warmly, reintroducing themselves even though they’ve all met at least once before. Happy exclamations of “you’re the doctor bro!” and “you’re the TigTog guy!” go around, making Rei laugh. Touya smiles himself until he spots Okita offering the aforementioned box of cookies to Fuyumi.

“Touya said you like macadamia nut,” Okita says, ears burning red as Fuyumi takes the proffered treats. “Figured it’d make a nice welcome to Fukuoka.”

“It does!” Fuyumi chirps, clutching the box tight, her own cheeks flaming. “Thank you so much, Okita-san!”

Touya’s about to break in with the subtlety of a bulldozer, when Marina’s voice cuts through the noise, addressing Endeavor. 

“So, you’re the guy who starts the fires, huh?” she asks, voice level and unthreatening. Still, Enji’s beard flares at the comment, and Rei puts a hand on his arm in warning.

“And you’re the ones who put the fires out, keeping everyone safe,” she remarks kindly. “I know my husband works closely with the fire departments of Musutafu, but I promise he won’t cause any trouble here.” 

Marina smiles at Rei, her expression softer. “I know he won’t. Not with you around to keep him in line.” She cuts her eyes over to Touya, offering him a wink. “And Touya’s Titter account, of course.”

Enji doesn’t look amused, and Akio, with his impeccable ability to read a room, picks up Natsuo’s bag. 

“Well, it was nice to see you all! Touya says he’ll bring you guys by the station later, but in the meantime, y’all’ve got lunch to get to, and we’ve got your bags, right guys?”

Okita immediately takes Fuyumi’s and Rei’s luggage, offering the ladies a bright smile while leaving Marina with Enji’s bags.

Enji doesn’t hand them over at first, maintaining eye contact with the firefighter like he’s trying to figure out what her beef is with him. Unfortunately for him, Marina is a master of the ‘pleasantly blank’ look that gives nothing away.

“Marina,” Touya sighs, breaking the stalemate by taking his dad’s suitcase by the handle and, with only a bit of resistance, handing it over to his fellow firefighter. “I’ll see you Tuesday. Breakfast with Hawks, remember?”

Marina shrugs, breaking any remaining tension as she half turns to follow the others, waving casually over her shoulder. “Sure thing, Touya. Don’t forget to pick up the syrup, though!”

She catches up with the others, and Touya finds himself with multiple pairs of blue and grey eyes on him, all questioning what the mini-standoff was about.

“Marina’s the one who maintains my support gear,” Touya says mildly. “Means she’s had access to my medical file.”

This time, Enji is on the receiving ends of the family looks, though only for a second. It’s a bit vindicating — it always is — but this time Touya’s actually got more pressing concerns than humbling his father.

“C’mon, food time,” he says, turning on his heel toward the station exit. “I’m starving.”

“Speaking of food,” Natsuo says, following his brother’s lead. “What’s this about breakfast with Hawks?”

Touya sighs. So much for keeping this to a conversation between him and his dad. 

“I’ll tell you guys at the restaurant. We’ve had… a couple of run-ins. He’s working a case on one of our rescues and he’s keeping me posted.”

“Over breakfast?” Shouto asks, like the little shit he is.

Fuyumi and Natsuo glance at each other, glee in their expressions, and Touya realizes he can’t go with his usual avenues of shutting them down without somehow being unfair to Hawks. Their interactions aren’t something he can brush off like his TigTog fans, and Hawks isn’t someone he’s rescued that he has a professional interest in keeping healthy.

It’s… well.

“It’s complicated,” Touya sighs, waving his sibling’s teasing ‘ohhh’s’ off with a dismissive hand. “I’ll tell you guys at the restaurant if you promise not to hound me on the walk.”

Natsuo mimes zipping his lips and Fuyumi looks delighted. Shouto just looks at Touya, eyebrows raised. But they all shut up, much to Touya’s relief.

“I would have thought Hawks would leave fires to another hero, given fire is his weakness,” Enji murmurs. 

Touya shoots him a glance, but Enji’s looking into the distance, apparently talking to himself.

His dad raises a good point, though. One that Touya hadn’t even considered.

If Hawks’ weakness is fire, why was he even at the apartment fire that night? How often does he take on jobs he’s not suited for just because he has to?

Touya represses a grimace.

He has a feeling he’s not going to like the answer.

Chapter Text

Earlier…

The morning shift is brutal after pulling an all-nighter on the Commission’s escalated mole-hunt. Three cans of coffee only make Keigo’s heart race rather than giving him any sort of real energy, and for the first time in ages, he finds himself struggling to maintain altitude as he flies over his grid.

It’s almost a relief when he finally lands back at his agency four hours later, ready to commence with the administrative portion of his day. Almost, because at least flying forced him to stay awake. Going over sidekick reports on incidents from the past month? Most of which were D-level significance or lower?

Look, Keigo’s not a saint. Reading about a sidekick’s argument with loiterers bores him to tears. If he’s gotta give his feedback on incident reports, at least let them be interesting.

So, by the time his office block crawls to an end, he’s yawned enough to actually make his jaw ache. And he’s hungry.

I skipped breakfast again, didn’t I? he muses, rising from his desk to a chorus of cracking joints and weary muscles. He can’t even blame the aches on a fight, he’s just tired.

Not that he can retire for the day just yet. 

Gotta stop by the hospital first, he muses, repressing another yawn. Tomorrow’s a double shift, so I won’t be able to make visiting hours for Meiomi and Naomi… should probably stop by Akira’s office first to see if he’s got any more legal stuff for them… can grab a late lunch after… maybe a nap before I meet with Diamond to debrief last night’s raid…

He blinks tiredly, setting aside his mental calendar in favor of locking up his office and heading down to the legal department, a little smile playing at his lips.

At least I’ll have an update for Tuesday’s breakfast, he thinks, wings perking up at his back at the prospect. 

And it’ll be nice to see the upside of a rescue for once.

—--

Meiomi and Naomi are thrilled to see him, especially as he comes bearing a referral to an attorney who Akira confirmed would be willing to work on their case pro bono.

“It’s the least we can do,” Keigo tells them, rubbing the back of his neck while Naomi offers him an embarrassingly low bow. “Your situation should’ve never happened and hopefully it will never happen again where your landlord is concerned.”

“Thank you,” Meiomi says, her eyes overly bright in the fluorescent lights. “We lost everything in the fire, and between my normal medical bills and having to stay the week for monitoring…” she exchanges a look with her sister, who looks just as overwrought as she does. “We really appreciate it.”

Keigo’s smile becomes softer and he leans back in the seat Naomi had pulled over for him. The plastic back digs in under his wings, but he ignores it in favor of looking around the room.

“At least they have you in one of the nicer wings,” he says appreciatively. “There’s even art on the walls!”

Meiomi giggles. “That’s an anatomy chart, Hawks.”

Keigo squints at it, trying to get his blurry eyes to focus. With his quirk, vision is rarely an issue, but going on thirty-two hours without sleep isn’t doing him any favors.

“So it is,” he mutters. “I could’ve sworn that cell was an abstract bowl of ramen.”

Naomi snorts but politely covers her mouth to hide her smile, and Keigo feels a swell of accomplishment. Not always is he good with people, but if he can set them at ease, he’ll take it.

“Speaking of food, I was planning on stopping by the cafe to pick up some melon pan and tea in a moment,” Naomi says lightly. “Can I get you a coffee, Hawks?”

I must look rough if she’s offering coffee specifically, Keigo muses. He can’t deny the sweet song of caffeine, though, even knowing its chances of giving him a boost are next to nil.

“Sure, I’d like that,” he says, reaching for his wallet. He tugs out a bill despite Naomi’s protests and passes it to her. “Extra sweet, if you don’t mind. And please get the rest for you and your sister, my treat.” He smiles disarmingly, letting a couple of feathers loose from his wings. “We could play rock paper scissors over who pays, but I think I have an unfair advantage.” 

The feathers come together in a silly facsimile of scissors that snip with mock seriousness at Naomi, who smiles helplessly at the display.

“Thank you,” she says, giving him another small bow. “I’ll be right back with some extra sweet coffee, then.”

The feathers flip around into the shape of a peace sign, which Keigo echoes with his own hand. “See ya in a few!”

As the door closes behind her, Keigo turns his attention back to Meiomi, who giggles shamelessly at his silliness. Smiling himself, Keigo leans in and props his elbows on his knees.

“I’m actually glad she’s braving the crowds right now,” he says conspiratorially. “Don’t tell anyone, but even heroes like to be a little lazy sometimes.”

“I won’t,” Meiomi laughs again, before looking shyly down at the sheets covering her frail legs. When she peeks up from under her bangs, Keigo feels a brief pang of regret, because he recognizes that hopeful look, and it never ends well for- 

“It might be inappropriate to ask, but by any chance did you get the name of the firefighter who rescued us?” she asks, nervously fiddling with her fingers. “I’d really like to thank him for his help too.”

Keigo’s polite rejection dies at the back of his throat, and instead a much more genuine smile pulls at his lips. “Oh, you mean Touya?” 

Her eyes light up. “You know him?”

“I do,” Keigo acknowledges. He’s not even envious of someone else thirsting over Touya - it’s not like he can blame her, after all. It’s just…

When was the last time I got passed over for someone else? he thinks, trying not to laugh out loud at the plot twist. I didn’t think I was a narcissist, but oh my god, maybe I am.

“If you see him again, will you tell him how much I appreciate his hard work?” Meiomi asks hopefully, her cheeks practically burning. “I know he probably does this daily, so it doesn’t mean much to him, but to me…” she trails off, but Keigo gets it. He’s had the same sentiment expressed to him hundreds of times over the past four years.

“I understand,” Keigo says, smiling gently. “And… if you want to, I dunno, write a note or something, I’m seeing him on Tuesday. I’d be happy to deliver it for you. I know he’ll be glad to hear that you’re recovering well.”

Her flush deepens.

“You’d do that?” she asks, cupping her cheeks with her hands as if to ward off the pinkness. 

“Sure,” Keigo answers. “I’m happy to help.”

And from one besotted idiot to another, we gotta stick together, he thinks ruefully. And on that note…

“By any chance, do you have a TigTog?”

—--

When Naomi returns, it’s to the sight of Keigo reading the top comments from the CPR video, while Meiomi has her face buried in her hands, laughing helplessly.

The laughter fades when Keigo looks up to see Naomi’s expression and notices how pale she is.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, voice serious. Meiomi stops laughing as well at his tone, and Naomi glances between them, looking wrong-footed.

“Nothing, it’s just… they had the news on in the cafe,” she says, setting the cupholder down on the side table and passing out their drinks. “I know it’s stupid, and he’s out there being a hero, but the sight of fire again… I wasn’t prepared, I guess.” 

Keigo takes a moment to parse her meaning. There aren’t any big fire-quirk heroes in Fukuoka, so that likely means a national broadcast, which usually means… “You saw Endeavor on the news? Is there something big going on up in Musutafu?”

Naomi shakes her head. “It looks like he’s in town, actually. It was a local station.”

“Huh,” Keigo says, sipping his drink thoughtfully. “He’s a long way from home…”

Not standard, but I also haven’t gotten a call telling me to help out. Maybe it’s nothing, or maybe my whole city is about to be destroyed.

He grimaces, taking a full gulp of the coffee. He might need the energy.

“Is he not supposed to be in town?” Naomi asks cautiously, clearly thinking along the same lines as Keigo. He offers what he hopes is a nonchalant shrug to set her fears at ease. 

“Can’t say for sure, but I should probably check it out just to make sure there’s no trouble.” He glances at Naomi. “Did it look like a villain attack?”

“I just saw fire and Endeavor in the background,” she says, biting her lip. Clearly, the sight of flames is still too fresh after their recent brush with death at their apartment. “I didn’t watch anymore after that.”

“That’s fine, I wouldn’t expect you to,” Keigo says, rising from his seat, his wings shaking out the stiffness at his back. “Hopefully it’s nothing major, but you never know when Endeavor’s involved.”

“Stay safe, Hawks,” Meiomi says, waving at him. Naomi nods her head, too.

“Thank you again for all of your help,” she says just as Keigo opens the door. He lets a couple of feathers flash another peace sign at her.

“If you need anything, you know how to find me.”

—--

Thirty-five minutes earlier…

“You cretins are not allowed to interrupt,” Touya says pointedly to his siblings, who sit across from him at the table.

He hadn’t let them ask questions for the entirety of lunch, as he’d been more focused on getting Natsuo to win the yakitori eating challenge, thus guaranteeing Touya a month of free meals. With the voucher now securely stowed in his wallet, however, his siblings have returned to the subject of Hawks with all the eagerness of sharks circling for chum.

Even his parents look politely interested, which is mortifying in its own right. They have no business looking at him like he’s about to gush over a teenage crush.

“Sooo… Hawks?” Fuyumi prods mischievously, stepping in for Natsuo, whose food coma has him slumped back into his seat with both hands resting on his belly in contentment. Not that Touya is fooled by the relaxed air. Natsuo’s gray eyes peek open at Fuyumi’s question, alight with curiosity. 

“It’s not that big a deal,” Touya says, aiming for nonchalance. He knows his family won’t acknowledge his protests unless he tells the sobering truth. “I told you guys Hawks is working on a case with me, and that’s how we met. There was an apartment fire last Sunday, and Hawks was called in to assist while we waited for the other engine to arrive. He ended up helping me with a couple of sisters who’d gotten stuck on the second floor because one of the sisters was disabled. It turned out they’d originally been promised a first-floor apartment but the landlord had reneged. He also let the elevator maintenance lapse, so when the smoke alarms went off, the sisters couldn’t escape without help. That’s where I stepped in.”

Enji shifts next to Touya at the mention of taking a risk, but it’s his mom who speaks up.

“That was incredibly brave of you, Touya,” she says, resting a hand on his forearm. He glances up at her from beneath his dark fringe to find her smile warm, but her eyes troubled. “Hopefully it wasn’t too dangerous?”

Touya represses a grimace. On the one hand, he wants to rub it in his dad’s face that he could run into a building fire and manage to carry two full grown adults out through a window while dodging debris, fire, and a collapsing ceiling. All without using his quirk. 

On the other hand, he hates making his mother worry.

“The building was too hot for anyone else, so the main danger was that I was by myself,” he admits, downplaying the real risks. “Anyway, I managed to get the girls out and Hawks helped me get them to the ambulance. After the call was finished and I found out how badly the sisters had been screwed over, I tracked Hawks down and made him aware of the situation.”

“That’s not -” Enji begins before catching himself. Touya turns back to his dad and raises an eyebrow.

“Not a hero’s job?” he asks archly. “To help people?”

Enji shoots Touya a reprimanding look. “The legal side of things should go to the lawyers. It’s what they’re paid to do.”

“Doesn’t mean the heroes can’t help speed things along.” Touya shrugs. “Hawks took the case to his legal team. Even did some of the legwork by stopping by the station the next morning to get my statement on what happened. That’s how he met the rest of the crew and how he got himself invited to breakfast this week.”

“Aww, are the guys fans of his?” Fuyumi asks, breaking the slight tension festering between Touya and Enji. She’s quite good at rebalancing the family’s energy, but Touya feels bad that he made her do it barely an hour after arriving in Fukuoka.

“Most of them, yeah,” Touya admits, flicking his rolled-up straw paper at Natsuo, whose grin annoys him. Natsuo and his volleyball reflexes bat the paper ball away. “Not me, though.”

The defense is automatic, born from years of living in Fukuoka and hearing everyone and their cousin gush over the young hero. It’s unfair, though, and he knows it.

“Not until recently, at least,” he sighs, knowing any chance of disinterest has just flown the coop. 

“Oho?” Natsuo asks, sitting up straighter. He, Shouto, and Fuyumi lean in, their eyes sparkling with delight, and Touya wishes he had more paper ammo to shoot them down with.

“As dad pointed out, not many heroes care to help with the aftermath shit,” Touya says, shooting a challenging look at his father, who scowls but holds his tongue. “Hawks did. He had a double shift that day too, and pulled an all-nighter working with his legal team before turning up at the station at six in the morning. He had breakfast with us, but then he went straight into his next patrol.” 

He pauses, gathering himself, and Natsuo fills the moment.

“That’s… dangerous,” he says, looking a little shocked. “Two eight-hour shifts, a late night firefight, an all-nighter, then going in the next day like it’s nothing?”

“I wasn’t aware there was so little hero support in Fukuoka that Hawks had to push himself so hard,” Enji notes, also looking disturbed. “It’s one thing when you’re pushing through the ranks to become established, but Hawks has an agency already.”

“Aren’t there laws about how many hours a hero can work?” Rei asks, her eyebrows pinched. “Like with nurses or pilots?”

“No,” Touya says, pinching his lips. “I looked, but there aren’t any. Presumably because of the Plus Ultra mentality most heroes have, or whatever.”

He glances at his dad, wanting the import of what he’s about to say to sink in. 

“That was just the first day. I’ve been keeping up with his sightings, and if my math is right, he works a double shift every other day, and on his single shift days, he always works overtime. That’s not including any larger scale events that crop up, or the interviews, or the advertising gigs, or the fanmeets.” He takes in his dad’s troubled expression. “Even when you were fighting to get to number two, it wasn’t like that.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Enji agrees with a frown. “Doesn’t he own his own agency? Why does he schedule himself so heavily? What do his sidekicks do?”

“Mostly clean up after him,” Touya mutters. He doesn’t know the full situation, but he’s peeved to say the least, knowing that Hawks’ sidekicks let him maintain such an insane schedule without doing anything to stop it. “And as for his agency… I’m not sure. Every resource I looked at says he owns it, but he said something at the festival this weekend that made me think that might not be the case.”

“Festival?” Shouto asks curiously. “The one you were on call for yesterday?”

“Yeah,” Touya says, trying not to let his face heat. The festival had been… a lot. In a very good way. But he’s not quite ready to spill those details yet. “Hawks got let off patrol so he could be seen at the festival, and he stopped by to say hi to the crew. At one point, the big Hawks float went by and I told him he should get royalties. He said “I don’t, but the Commission might” and that stuck with me.”

“You think the Commission is behind his agency?” Enji asks, his frown more pronounced. Touya nods.

“There’s a lot of speculation about it online, yeah. Nothing confirmed, but… he never went to a hero school, got an agency at eighteen, doesn’t seem to have existed before eighteen, and he works himself to the bone every day, despite already being in the top three.”

“Top two, soon,” Enji says, always the one to keep up with the stats. He sounds distracted, though. “I hadn’t… considered where he might have come from, or how he got his support.”

“It’s weird, right?” Touya asks, hoping he doesn’t sound like the stalker he kind of feels like. His siblings are looking at him like he’s revealed some strange new fetish, and he does not want them to get the wrong impression. “If even I’m noticing this shit after knowing him for a week?”

He spies Shouto leaning over to Fuyumi and stage whispering into her ear, “I thought Touya didn’t even like heroes?”

“Shh,” she stage whispers back. “Brother is brothering.”

He flips them both off, and his mom lets out a little “Touya!” next to him. He lowers his finger but still gives them both the stink eye. Shouto shrugs, but Fuyumi raises an eyebrow knowingly.

“What?” she says. “It’s true. You obviously started paying attention only after you figured out Hawks was working himself into an early grave.” Her eyes flick to Enji, but she doesn’t pause, which is a testament to how much therapy can do to help one overcome their fears. “We all know your feelings on heroics being taken too far. I’m not surprised Hawks has caught your brother hen tendencies if he’s as overworked as you say.”

Enji is quiet, taking the reminder of his past rankings-driven insanity in stride, which is another point for counseling working miracles. Touya reminds himself to send their therapist some flowers.

“Is there anything your father can do?” Rei asks, putting her hand on Touya’s fiddling one to get his attention. “If he’s as overworked as you say, it’s only a matter of time before his exhaustion catches up with him, isn’t it?”

That’s what I’m worried about, Touya thinks, chewing his lip. 

“I can look into the circumstances of his agency acquisition,” Enji offers in that rumbling, indifferent way of his. Touya’s eyebrows arch in surprise. He’d been expecting his father to shoot him down or brush off the incidents as just standard hero work. 

Enji grimaces at his son’s evident surprise.

“I became the number two hero at twenty years old,” he says, almost making Touya roll his eyes at the oft-repeated gloat. “But as you noted… even I came home after my shifts ended.”

Until it was more convenient to stay at the office and avoid me, yeah, Touya thinks bitterly.

Enji must sense his protest, because he clears his throat before he continues. 

“I also did not face the same difficulties that Hawks does,” he says, though it clearly pains him to admit it. “When I was his age, only sixty percent of the population had quirks, and the vast majority of them, with the glaring exception of All Might, weren’t very powerful. My competition was always All Might, because there were so few others who could match my quirk strength.”

“Meanwhile, Hawks has dad, Best Jeanist, Miruko, Edge Shot…” Shouto muses. “The competition is harsher.

“And Hawks is located in Fukuoka, which historically has a low population and a low crime rate,” Enji agrees. “More competition, with fewer opportunities to increase his capture stats means that he has to maximize his popularity stats.” He nods again to the billboard. “Clearly he’s found success in that.”

Touya bristles at even the mild implication that Hawks might have his status because he was pretty and popular, but his mom speaks before he can.

“Perhaps that’s why he feels the need to drive himself so hard?” she murmurs. “Because if he’s not capturing every villain and taking every opportunity to be seen, he’ll lose his ranking?”

Touya thinks about the gratitude on Hawks’ face when the firefighters had closed ranks around him at the festival, letting him enjoy the evening just like any other civilian. He thinks about how the guy wanted to wear a mask to help downplay his presence. How Hawks had never even been to the biggest parade his own city put on. How he looked up in wonder at the fireworks overhead as if he’d never seen anything like them before.

“He’s not like that,” Touya says quietly. “I don’t doubt he wants to help people, but… I don’t get the impression that he cares about rankings.”

“Then somebody else does,” Natsuo says simply. Enji nods thoughtfully.

“I will look into it, Touya,” he promises. “You’ve provided a lot of information, and -”

BOOM!

The windows of the restaurant rattle with the sound of the explosion, and Enji is out of his seat in seconds.

“Down beneath the table, now!” 

All of them hit the deck but Touya, who kicks his chair back so he can look out the window.

“Gas station, north,” he reports in the shorthand of an emergency. “Car is on fire.”

Enji grunts in acknowledgment, and makes for the front door, nearly ripping it off its hinges in his haste. Touya casts his gaze down to his mom, then to Shouto, who’s rising back to his feet.

“Shouto, take everyone down the block toward the station until we figure out if it's a villain or an accident,” he instructs. “They’ll have a shelter if things get worse. I’m going to help with the fire while dad takes on whoever set it.”

Shouto nods and reaches down to help Fuyumi to her feet while Natsuo does the same for their mother. Rei’s eyes are wide and worried.

“Shouldn’t you come with us until your father figures out how dangerous it is?” she asks, clutching his sleeve. “You’re not a hero, you could get hurt!”

Touya gently pries his mom’s hand away.

“I’m not a hero, but I am a first responder,” he says. “It’s my job to respond.”

And with that, he takes off after his dad.

Chapter Text

Touya’s not sure what to expect. He’s been in plenty of dangerous situations, including ones that involved villains, but usually he’s with his team and there are heroes taking care of the baddies while his team takes on the fire.

I guess Endeavor counts, he thinks, following in his father’s flaming wake. There are scorch marks on the asphalt, and Touya shakes his head, wondering how many times his dad has been followed by making such an obvious trail.

Not the time, he reminds himself as he draws level with his dad’s massive strides. Damn, the old man is still quick for his age. 

Ahead of them, people are running away from the flaming vehicle and, subsequently, the gas station it’s next to. 

Smart move, Touya thinks, already scanning the area for suppression options. Most gas stations have a hose, but it’ll be a regular variety, not a fire hose. He’ll also need to call for utilities to be powered down if the fire spreads, block off civilian access, call the gas company…

Really wish my team was here, he thinks. So much easier to manage when there are eight of us. 

“Endeavor!” a sweating civilian calls, waving frantically at Touya’s dad. Both of them slow their approach, and she points down the street, gasping, “Endeavor, he went that way!” 

“I’ll take the car,” Touya says before his dad can try to direct him. “Find out if it was a villain or something else.”

Endeavor nods brusquely, but pauses for half a second, looking at Touya as if he wants to say something. Touya gives him that half second because Endeavor is a hero, and for no other reason.

The number one nods at him. “Be careful, son.”

Then he takes off, leaving Touya feeling wrong-footed and annoyed. 

Tag for therapy later, he chastises himself, feet already pounding toward the fire again. Help now.

Arriving at the scene of the flaming vehicle is familiar, and Touya lets himself fall into his training as he assesses the situation.

Car hit a curb… there’s a gas trail leading to it from the station… was the car leaking gas? Did someone pour gas on the car?

Arson is a different approach than an accident, but he doesn’t have enough information to make a call yet. 

He’s just come level with the car - thankfully empty of people - when he sees what appears to be a station attendant, staring at the fire in shock.

“You!” he yells, pointing at them to get her attention. “Call 119 and report the fire! Do you have a hose? Anything to put it out?”

“Around the side!” the attendant calls, pointing to the left with one hand while fumbling for her cell phone with the other. Touya’s heart pounds as he runs to the side of the building and sees the hose. It has a bike lock wrapped around it, but his scorching hand makes quick work of that, and he pulls the heavy coils of hose over his shoulder before turning the water up to full blast. 

Hustling back, letting out the hose as he goes, Touya spots another civilian staring at the fire with deep dismay, marking them as the vehicle owner. Touya grits his teeth, then flags them down. 

No time to be gentle.

“If they have any kind of extinguisher in there -” he directs them, pointing at the gas station “- fire blanket, spray, even baking soda, grab it and bring it out here. Do not get closer to the fire than this.”

The civilian looks at him with watery eyes before nodding and running back to the gas station. Touya’s heart hammers, noticing that the fire is spreading to the splashes of gas on the ground and that it’s leaping back to the station. To the still-functioning gas station.

Maybe they have a fire suppression system installed, he thinks desperately, glancing back at the structure. A quick glance at the aged awning and rust stains quickly dispels his hope. 

“Shit,” he hisses under his breath. “I need backup.”

He pulls up short of the blaze, dropping the heavy hose at his feet as he turns the spray on the puddles of blazing gas. The spray hits with a sizzling hiss and Touya feels sweat slipping down the side of his face when the flames leap and twist, jumping from puddle to puddle. The heat from the blaze is intense, but not as intense as it will be if the fire manages to spark one of the major gas lines at the station. Touya cannot let that happen.

“They had baking soda!” a voice calls from behind him. Touya risks a glance back and sees the civilian he sent inside, holding several bags in their arms, looking pale but determined.

And over the man’s shoulder, like an arriving angel, Touya sees Hawks touching down.

Thank fuck, he thinks, shoulders sagging as Hawks’ boots hit the ground next to the civilian.

“What do you need?” the hero asks Touya, taking in the situation with sharp eyes.

“Fire rescue should be on the way,” Touya reports. “Can you pour that -” he nods at the baking soda “- on the gas? We can’t let it get to the fuel lines.”

“Done,” Hawks says, taking the bags from the civilian and sweeping into the air again. Touya watches long enough to see the hero slit the bags open and dump them on the gas puddles ahead of the flames, effectively stymying the fire’s progress.

“I’ll get more bags,” the civilian calls, running off again. Touya turns his attention back to dousing the flames leaping from the vehicle to the surrounding puddles. He’s fairly sure the car’s gas tank has already exploded, but on the off chance it hasn’t yet, he doesn’t risk getting closer. Immune to most fires he may be, but he’s not immune to shrapnel.

Spraying from a distance is slow work, though, and the fire is still burning, though contained to just the vehicle, when Hawks drops back down next to him.

“Gas company has shut down the lines,” the hero reports. “Fire’s ETA is one minute. What else can I do?” 

“Civilians?” Touya asks, casting the hero a glance. Hawks’ expression is focused on the fire, watching for any escalations, and the relief Touya feels at having Hawks with him is unreal.

“Directed them across the street, and have feathers sweeping for any over-interested stragglers,” Hawks says as his wings perk up at his back. “Annnd, if I’m not mistaken, I can hear the sirens now.”

“Good, they’ll have a bigger fucking hose,” Touya laughs, shaking the little garden hose in exasperation. By now, he can hear the sirens too, and he spots the lights of Engine 22 rounding the corner at the end of the street.

“So you’re saying size matters?” Hawks says innocently, waving at the approaching fire truck.

Touya laughs, and it’s half amusement, half pure relief, knowing that between Hawks, himself, and the approaching fire truck, any remaining danger can be dealt with. It allows the tension to practically evaporate from his body as he watches his fellow firefighters, some with familiar faces, pile out onto the street.

Maybe Hawks feels the same way, because he remains quiet over the next few minutes, watching as Touya briefs the firefighters on the situation and lets them take over water operations. Funnily enough, by the time they have their hose in play, the fire engulfing the car has been significantly reduced, largely by Touya’s efforts, and the fire chief tips his helmet to him in the aftermath.

“Good thing you were on hand,” the chief says, looking at Touya, then Hawks. “Both of ya. Woulda been hell if it’d gotten to the gas station.”

Touya nods tiredly, coiling up the garden hose out of habit. Hawks still isn’t saying anything, and Touya looks over at him curiously, only to see the hero blinking slowly and swaying slightly on his feet. 

That’s… not good.

“Uh, chief…” Touya says, unsure if he should bring attention to the hero. “Think you can wrap things here? I can send over my report tonight if you want.”

“What, you don’t wanna stick around for the cameras?” the chief laughs, nodding at the huddles of civilians jockeying for a better view of the scene, all of their cellphones held aloft. “ ‘Off-duty firefighter saves gas station’ would play perfectly on y’all’s TigTog.”

“You know about -?” Touya cuts himself off, shaking his head. Hawks is more important right now. Fuck, and he also needs to check on his family… and his father. 

So much for a relaxing day off, he thinks ironically.

“No, I was having lunch with my family. I need to see that they’re okay,” he says, moving to Hawks’ side. “Shoot my chief an email if you need anything specific.”

“Will do, kid,” the chief says, already turning back to his team to wrap up the scene. Meanwhile, Touya’s attention is on Hawks.

“Hey, birdie, you okay?” he asks in an undertone, reaching for the hero’s wrist. The touch seems to reach Hawks more than the words.

“Hmm?” he says, turning to look at Touya with somewhat unfocused eyes. “Oh, hey Touya. What else do we need to do?”

Really concerned now, Touya thinks, eyeing the hero for some kind of injury that might explain the odd behavior. He doesn’t see any indication that Hawks has been harmed, though.

Then again, I did spend ten minutes telling my family how fucked up his schedule is… maybe he’s just tired?

“We’re going to check up on my family,” he says, tugging on Hawks’ wrist to get him walking. The hero almost stumbles, but Touya steadies him, keeping his voice calm even as his guts lurch with concern. “And see where Endeavor got off to while we’re at it. Maybe he knows what caused the fire.”

“Endeavor?” Hawks repeats, blinking slowly again. “He was on the news. Came to see what was happening.”

“Well, you found it,” Touya says wryly. “We were getting lunch and heard an explosion down the street. Showed up to someone fleeing the scene and a car on fire.”

“Should be chasing the bad guy,” Hawks mumbles, rubbing a hand down his face, digging especially hard into his closed eyes as they walk. Trusting Touya to guide him.

“Endeavor is chasing the bad guy,” Touya reminds the hero. “And he’s the number one, so he outranks you. You’re officially off the hook.”

“Okay,” Hawks says tiredly, looking at Touya. His expression is carefully neutral, but his eyes are exhausted. A far cry from the sharp hero who’d assisted Touya not twenty minutes prior.

It’s like he’s crashing, Touya thinks, having seen many firefighters come down from adrenaline highs in his life. Often they could be found horizontal within a few minutes of the last fire going out.

Taking the risk, Touya releases Hawks’ wrist in favor of putting an arm around the hero’s waist. Hawks doesn’t resist, but puts his head on Touya’s shoulder with a sigh of relief. 

“You’re warm,” he mumbles. Touya’s fingers clench tighter in the hero’s jacket, indecisive.

He doesn’t want to call his family out of their shelter if the villain or arsonist is still on the run, but he also doesn’t want to drag Hawks the three additional blocks of walking it will take to reach his family. Which means… he needs to know what’s going on before he can make a decision.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out his phone and locates Endeavor’s number. He hits call.

“Touya?” his father answers immediately. “You left the scene?”

Well, at least that means Endeavor made it back to the gas station. Touya sighs.

“Was going to check on mom and them. Did you get the bad guy?”

“Yes. A small-time criminal with a minor liquid manipulation quirk. He was siphoning gas out of the lines when he was caught. He ran, spilling gas as he did. Another car hit the puddle and skidded into the curb, sparking the fire. The criminal has been apprehended. Nothing to worry about.”

Nothing to worry about… except the possibility of the gas station exploding, which Touya prevented. Touya’s jaw flexes, but a look at Hawks sagging against him confirms that now is not the time.

“Okay, then I’m calling mom. We’ll find a place to meet up.”

“Very well,” Endeavor rumbles. “I am still speaking with the police now.”

Huh. He took the call before he finished up? Touya thinks, frowning. He files it away with all of his father's other odd behavior on this trip. 

“See ya, then,” he says, before hanging up to call his mom.

As the phone rings, he guides Hawks over to a little cafe across the street that appears to still be open, if the waitress peeking out the door is anything to go by.

“Hello,” she says, no doubt startled by a random guy hauling a dazed-looking Pro Hero Hawks toward her store.

“Need a table for -” he pauses, counting mentally, “- seven, if you can manage it.”

“O-of course, but the explosion -” she stutters, wide-eyed. Touya cuts in.

“It’s been dealt with,” he says, just as his phone connects and his mother’s voice pours over the speaker in a rush of worry.

‘Please,’ he mouths at the waitress, who nods hurriedly and begins pushing together a few of the small tables.

“Hi, mom,” Touya says, as soon as his mother breaks to breathe. He hears her take a shaky inhale.

“ You’re okay?” she asks. “The news covered the explosion - someone sent in cell phone footage - and it was so dangerous right next to that station! Are you sure you’re okay??”

“I’m okay,” Touya assures, gingerly lowering Hawks into one of the plush cafe chairs. The hero sags alarmingly and cracks an enormous yawn. Touya’s anxiety lessens at the thought that it really might be exhaustion rather than an injury or quirk effect, though exhaustion comes with its own problems.

“Are you guys able to meet me at a cafe? It’s a few buildings down from where we were having lunch,” Touya asks. “I have a first-hand example of what I was telling you guys about right here in front of me.”

“A first hand…” his mother trails off. “Is Hawks with you? We saw him at the fire…”

“Yep,” Touya says. “Have Fuyumi text Endeavor where we are. He should be finishing up soon.”

“I - okay, Touya. We’ll see you in a few minutes.”

“Thanks, mom,” Touya says before hanging up and setting his phone on the table. Hawks barely seems to register what’s going on as he blinks sleepily in his chair.

“Damn, birdie,” Touya says quietly, reaching up to feel the hero’s forehead for a temperature. His concern ratchets up when his fingers are met with cold, clammy skin. “What have they done to you?”

—--

Keigo is used to pushing himself to his limits, but as soon as cell phone footage showed Touya in civilian clothing, fighting a fire by himself, all the stops came out. He’d pushed his wings to their tearing point in his rush from the hospital to the site of the fire, getting there in record time.

After his arrival, though… his memories become a little fuzzy. He knows he helped snuff the fire. Knows he and Touya talked. But then the buzzing in his head became louder than the world around him.

His mouth opens in another jaw-cracking yawn and he feels tears prick the corners of his eyes. 

“Easy there, hero, you’ll catch flies,” an amused voice says softly. Keigo blinks heavy eyelids and forces himself to focus on Touya. Touya who… seems to have pink hearts surrounding him.

That… can’t be right, Keigo thinks tiredly, blinking again. The hearts remain. 

Am I dreaming? 

“Where are we?” he manages to ask, turning to observe the rest of the cafe. He and Touya are the only ones in the dining area, but his feathers can make out noises in the kitchen. A coffee grinder?

“A maid cafe, I think,” Touya says wryly. “I wasn’t paying attention. Just wanted to find a place to stop.” He catches Keigo’s chin and directs Keigo’s eyes back to his pretty blue ones. “You had me worried, birdie.”

“I - what?” Keigo says, trying to focus. “Why?”

Touya’s response is interrupted by the jingle of the door opening, and Keigo looks up to see a scowling Endeavor entering the store. 

Pulling strength from the absolute depths of his Commission training, Keigo reaches up to pull Touya’s fingers from his chin so he can greet his fellow hero.

“Heya, Endeavor, fancy seeing you here,” he says, offering the number one a peace sign. Endeavor’s scowl doesn’t budge as he turns it to his son.

“I see what you were talking about,” he says gruffly, taking the seat to Touya’s right. The little chair creaks ominously, but Endeavor pays it no mind, just like Keigo. “Is he drugged?”

“Just tired, I think,” Touya says tightly. “I ordered him some coffee, but I think bedrest would be better.”

“I’m right here,” Keigo says, bemused and a little alarmed. Had he let his guard slip so much that he’d missed Touya having a whole drink-ordering conversation without him? 

“And while I’m grateful for that,” Touya says patiently, “I’m wondering what’s got you so tired. Didn’t you have yesterday off? Or did you go straight back to work after the fireworks ended?”

Keigo’s Commission training would have him denying anything that could link him to off-the-record missions. His crush-demolished filters have him grimacing instead. Touya’s eyes narrow.

“How much sleep did you get?” he asks in the ‘don’t-bullshit-me’ tone of a medic used to dealing with heroes. Keigo sighs gustily.

“About twenty minutes,” he confesses, rubbing his face so that Touya and Endeavor won’t see the panic that admission causes him. He only peeks through his fingers when he hears the sound of porcelain clinking against the table and inhales the sweet aroma of coffee. The waitress pauses over the tableau.

“Can… I get anything else for you?” she asks, first looking wide-eyed at Keigo, then at Touya and Endeavor. 

“Two black coffees for myself and my son,” Endeavor rumbles. “And green tea for my wife - she should be here shortly. I will let the rest order for themselves.”

Touya takes a moment to shoot Endeavor a look, eyebrows raised, but Keigo’s reprieve is short. The waitress bustles back to the kitchen, and Keigo is met with matching pairs of blue eyes, scrutinizing him.

“It is dangerous for a hero to be working on so little sleep,” Endeavor says after a moment. His expression is troubled in a way Keigo’s never seen before. If he didn’t know better, he’d say it was… parental. “Why would you risk it?”

Even in his exhaustion, Keigo knows better than to say ‘The Commission frequently assigns me undercover missions that I do in whatever off hours I have’. Not only does it sound sketchy, but also it paints the Commission as the bad guys. They’re not, they just utilize what agents they have to fight the battles normal heroes can’t, and Keigo would gladly sign up for the privilege of keeping his people safe a million times over, no matter how little sleep, or how many bloody noses he gets.

“There was an incident last night that I needed to take care of,” Keigo says lightly, forcing his energy back up for this confrontation. “You know how it is, big guy. Evil never rests, yada yada.”

“Heroes do, though,” Touya says, voice firm. “Even dad doesn’t pull all-nighters unless there’s no other choice.”

“Well, there ya go.” Keigo shrugs. “I’d had the afternoon off and I was the best choice to deal with the problem.” He gives Touya a pleading look, begging him to let it go. “I’m off tonight - I promise I’ll catch up on sleep then. This is just… one of those weird one-offs.”

It’s a lie, but he tells it convincingly. Touya’s frown turns thoughtful.

“Have you eaten yet?” he asks instead of prying further into Keigo’s shitty sleep schedule.

Amused, Keigo wonders if he has hungry written on his forehead or if Touya’s just that good at reading him. 

“I was going to grab lunch after visiting the hospital, but Naomi said she saw Endeavor on the local news and I got curious,” Keigo admits, blinking innocently at Touya. That part, at least, is true. “Naomi and Meiomi say hi, by the way.”

Touya and Endeavor exchange a look that says they’re not satisfied with his answers, but before they can dig deeper, the chime over the door sounds again, and a group of white-haired people pile in, all of them talking fast with each other. Touya waves them over, and Keigo realizes this must be the rest of his family.

Where does the black hair come from, then? He wonders vaguely, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden energy in the small cafe. Still, he makes to rise, to do a proper greeting, when a warm hand falls on his shoulder.

“Hey, if this is too much right now, that’s okay, birdie,” Touya says, dipping down to speak lowly in his ear. “I can get you a cab or something - get you back home.”

Inexplicably, Keigo's eyes feel hot. Like they’re too dry to cry, but they want to.

“No, I’m good,” he says, before clearing his throat. He glances up to see Touya watching him with concern in his pretty blue eyes and feels his insides melt a bit. “Introduce me?”

Oh, god, I’m meeting his family, he thinks, despair and hysteria leaking into his exhausted brain. 

Touya nods. “C’mon then, birdie. They don’t bite.”

Keigo scoots his chair back to stand up and Touya steps back, looking over at his curious family, all of whom were watching the byplay with apparent interest. Keigo flushes at the thought of being so openly besotted in front of his crush’s family, but Touya’s voice distracts him.

“Guys, this is Hawks,” he says, tone softer than usual. “Hawks, this is my mom, Rei -” he gestures to the older lady with white hair, who nods slightly to him “- my brother, Natsuo -” the tallest kid waves, glee in his grey eyes “- my sister, Fuyumi -” the younger woman with white and red hair adjusts her glasses and beams at Keigo “- and my youngest brother, Shouto.”

The teenager of the group cocks his head at Keigo and says bluntly, “No wonder you were worried about him, Touya.”

“Shut up, Shouto,” Touya says pleasantly before Keigo can process what the kid just said.

Worried? About me? He talked to his family about me? 

It takes him a full 2.5 seconds to recover. 

“Uh, hi! Pro Hero Hawks,” he introduces himself with a slight wave. “I was in the area when I saw Touya taking on that fire. Stopped by to lend a feather, though… frankly, he had it under control.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m sorry for intruding on your family time.”

“Not at all,” Rei says warmly. “We were just talking about you before the fire happened.”

Touya stiffens and Keigo feels his wings perk up. 

“Mom,” Touya says, but his mother continues before he can say anything else.

“Touya said you two are working a case together?” she asks, settling into the seat that Endeavor pulls out for her. The rest of the Todoroki siblings follow suit, and Keigo lets himself consider his answer before he settles into his own chair.

“Yeah, though most of the proceedings will be in the lawyer’s hands from here,” he says, glancing at Touya, surprised to see the firefighter’s cheeks are slightly pink from his mother’s revelation. Emboldened by the mutual embarrassment, he winks. “Can’t say much more about it, otherwise I’ll get my breakfast invite revoked.”

Rei laughs musically, and Hawks sees the siblings smiling. Even Touya, after sighing loudly, looks amused.

“Dumbass, it was a standing invitation from the whole crew. They’d be pathetic about it if you skipped out.”

“Suuuuure, the crew would be pathetic,” Natsuo whispers loudly to his sister, making Fuyumi laugh. Again, Keigo’s wings perk up with pleasure at the indication that maybe… just maybe… Touya might - 

No, he needs to chill out. It’s just family teasing, right? Families do that kind of thing.

I think, Keigo muses. That’s how it is on TV at least.

“So, what happened with the fire?” Shouto asks, looking between Endeavor, Keigo, and Touya. “Did you find out what caused it?”

Touya snorts, looking at his father. “Some guy with a liquid manipulation quirk, right?” 

Endeavor nods and details the chase and takedown of the thief to his son with cut-and-dry professionalism, only giving asides when he thinks Shouto might benefit from the knowledge as a hero. It makes Keigo wonder if his own father’s capture had been used as a teaching moment all those years ago. 

He can picture it now. Endeavor, fifteen years younger, describing how to avoid blades to some sidekick who was eagerly taking down notes. The Takami Thief hadn’t had the telekinetic ability to sharpen his sparse forearm feathers, but he could wield a mean knife back then.

This is what he missed out on, Keigo thinks with a pang, watching the Todoroki family ask questions and trade banter about their father taking out a ‘gassy criminal’. Endeavor looks resigned to the ribbing, especially from Touya, though the eldest Todoroki kid is far less mercenary than Keigo had expected given his Titter account.

Keigo watches the Todoroki family quietly, aching in a way he hasn’t in years.

The maid waitress comes by to take the younger Todoroki’s orders, and Touya asks if the cafe also sells food. When she hands him a menu, he turns to look at Keigo, all warm eyes and devastating smile.

“So? Got a favorite pastry, hero?” he asks, nodding to the list of cutesy confections on the list. Keigo blinks tiredly, watching the words blur on the page. 

He’s not really supposed to have sugary things like the pancake soufflés and chocolate waffles on display, but…

Am I really gonna say no in front of Touya’s whole family? he asks himself with no small amount of irony.

“I like waffles,” he says softly, so only Touya can hear. The firefighter nods, blue eyes looking almost determined.

“Good, you need some calories in your system,” he says, flagging down the waitress again. Keigo, inexplicably, feels tightness in his throat.

Across the table, Fuyumi smiles welcomingly at him.

“You get used to it, Hawks,” she says, in a faux conspiratorial tone. “His love language is food.”

“Fu, I am going to throw a croissant at you,” Touya states. His expression is serene, but his eyes promise retribution. Fuyumi just pulls a face at him that makes Keigo laugh.

Inside, though, his heart clenches.

I don’t think I could ever get used to this.

—--

From the corner of his eye, Enji watches his eldest son and Hawks interact, somewhat… surprised by what he sees.

Touya has always been the type to wear his heart, and his emotions, on his sleeve. He had thrown tantrums as a child, had wept freely and often, and had burned himself like a beacon in order to be seen. Enji often regrets that his actions - his negligence - drove Touya to such lengths when his son was already such a vibrant and passionate person in his own right.

Nowadays, Touya’s passion is more subtle. He pours it into his work, into his friends, and into his family. He doesn’t waste time on those who don’t return it. 

Watching him interact with Hawks, though… Enji can see it. The protectiveness. The concerned glances. Hawks clearly isn’t even at fifty percent right now, and Touya knows it. It worries him.

Enji had already decided to look into Hawks’ unhealthy work schedule to sate his own curiosity and because Touya had asked. Touya never asks for anything from Enji anymore, despite Enji’s willingness to provide whatever he could to make up for the past he couldn’t change.

Now, seeing Touya offer Hawks a cheese bun with a teasing ‘it’s gouda for you’, and seeing his son’s delight when Hawks laughs… Enji vows to change something about Hawks’ situation if he can. 

After all, it’s the least he can do.

Chapter Text

After an impromptu lunch with the entire Todoroki family, during which Keigo thankfully didn’t embarrass himself too much, he still has to meet with his handler to debrief his off-the-record mission. Or, as he fibs to the family, ‘meet with a colleague about last night’s emergency call’.  Which does not agree with one Todoroki Touya. 

“You should be at home, catching up on rest,” he says with a frown and crossed arms of disapproval. “Wouldn’t be surprised if your sleep debt is in the months range with the way you work.”

How does he know how I work? Keigo thinks, vague amusement surfacing in the soup of his brain like a sad carrot. Behind Touya, Natsuo snorts, proving that the little bit of ‘distance’ his family had given him hadn’t been sufficient to avoid eavesdropping.

“Meetings with my handler are usually pretty short,” Keigo says, trying to assure Touya. The way the firefighter stiffens proves the assurance failed.

He’s still running what he said through his foggy brain when Endeavor speaks up.

“Your handler?” 

Ah. That’d do it.

“Handler, liaison, colleague,” he names off, trying to lessen the weirdness. “Kinda all in one. They keep me on track for more sensitive or last-minute missions.”

The other hero stares at him over Touya’s head, unknowingly wearing the same unimpressed expression as his son.

“You know, I’ve never been to your agency before,” Endeavor says, catching his family’s attention. “Touya, why don’t you take your mother and siblings to meet your crew, and I’ll go with Hawks.” Touya turns to look at his dad, and Endeavor arches an eyebrow. “I think your crew will be happier without me around anyway.”

Wait, Keigo thinks, the proposal catching up with his brain. Wait, no.

“Um,” he starts, only for Touya to cut in.

“That’s not a terrible idea. Marina’s not your biggest fan.”

“I noticed,” Endeavor says wryly.

“We can catch up with you at the hotel tonight?” Rei says, placing a delicate hand on Endeavor’s bicep. “Touya said there’s a nice restaurant around the corner from where we’re staying.”

“That sounds fine,” Endeavor says, turning to Fuyumi. “Will you text me the address?”

“Sure, Dad,” she says, pulling out her phone even as Endeavor moves to Touya’s side.

“Don’t worry, I remember what you said,” he tells his eldest, seemingly apropos of nothing. Keigo feels a swell of unease wash over him.

“Hey, big guy, you know I’d love to show you around,” he says, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “But I’m just going in for the one meeting before I go home to crash. It’s been a long forty-eight hours, ya know?” 

Endeavor shrugs in a way that’s far too reminiscent of Touya. “You can do your meeting. I’m sure I can find my way around a hero agency without a babysitter.”

There’s really no arguing with that, given the man’s twenty-year career, and Keigo can’t readily think of any other reason to refuse him if he’s just… curious.

“Okay, don’t say I didn’t warn you if I’m not the best host today,” he says, flapping a hand at the number one, before turning his attention back to Touya, who’s watching him with a complicated expression. “And I guess I’ll see you Tuesday?”

It comes out more hopeful than confirming, and Touya dips his head ruefully.

“You don’t have to ask again, birdie. Just show up whenever you’re ready, and you’ll have a feast waiting for you.”

He raises his hand before Keigo can reply and turns back to his family.

“Don’t let the old man get into too much trouble,” he says over his shoulder. “And get some sleep for god’s sake.”

“Yes, sir,” Keigo says with a faux salute that makes Touya laugh. The sound has a reluctant smile pulling at Keigo’s lips, which he immediately hides when he sees Endeavor staring at him. 

The rest of the Todoroki family bid their farewells, and within minutes, it’s just Keigo and Endeavor standing there on the sidewalk outside of a maid cafe. Awkward doesn’t begin to cover it.

Which is weird in and of itself. Keigo’s never been awkward around his fellow hero. Between the childhood hero worship, Touya’s Titter making the man a bit more human, and the multiple times he’s met the number one since he made the top ten list, he’s always had positive feelings of some kind toward Endeavor. It’s only since he met Touya in real life that he’s become conscious of Endeavor as something other than a hero or a man to be roasted.

This… this is Touya’s dad.

“My agency isn’t too far from here if you’re okay with walking?” he asks, trying not to be unnerved by Endeavor’s blue eyes scrutinizing him with every bit of the intensity his son is capable of.

“Fine,” Endeavor grunts. “Just lead the way.”

“Oookay,” Keigo says, and starts walking. The other hero falls into step beside him. Keigo casts around for something to chat about that’s not his handler. “So, you guys are in town for Golden Week?”

“We make it a habit of visiting all of our children this time of year.” Endeavor shoots him a glance. “Are you given time to see your family?”

Why, after four years of knowing each other, is he choosing now to inquire after my personal life? Keigo thinks, despairing a bit. Also what’s up with that wording? 

“I’m not really in contact with my family,” he replies honestly, hoping the hero will drop it. “I take the afternoon on Children’s Day to visit orphanages, but that’s usually all I have time to observe.” He throws Endeavor a grin. “Though I did get to go to the big Hakata Dontaku festival yesterday!”

There, he can make what he wants of the orphanage comment. 

Endeavor nods. “Touya mentioned you met at the festival.”

He falls silent after that, but Keigo can’t celebrate the lack of personal questions because now he’s curious.

What did Touya say about me? And how can I ask without sounding desperate?

“You guys missed out,” he comments airily. Like it doesn’t really matter that he had his world rocked yesterday by his not-date with the firefighter. “If you come down next year, you should try to make it for the festival.”

Endeavor nods again, looking pensive. “You… spent some time with his crew yesterday?”

Okay, information for information. This would be so much easier if he weren’t exhausted. 

“I did,” Keigo says, squinting as he tries to figure out what Endeavor wants to hear. “They’re really nice, and they all seem to get along with Touya.”

“Good,” Endeavor grunts. As if everyone should get along with Touya, or else face the consequences. It’s kinda funny, actually.

Blinking sleepily, Keigo doesn’t think before he opens his mouth.

“I like him, too,” he admits quietly. 

It’s only when Endeavor’s steps falter slightly that Keigo realizes how that sounded.

Oh, shit, too honest abort, abort, abort.

“You guys raised him well,” he says a touch too quickly, trying to make the comment about Touya’s character and not his pretty blue eyes or his well-defined body or his devastating sense of humor.

Endeavor turns his face away, but not before Keigo catches a grimace pulling at his lips. 

“Rei did well by him,” the older hero rumbles. “I… was not the father he needed for far too long.”

Oh? 

Keigo’s had his suspicions. Some of Touya’s Titter posts had been a little too sharp for there not to be underlying resentment. Part of him had assumed it was the typical ‘child of famous person rejects said fame’, but… maybe it’s more than that.

Not that it’s his business, of course. 

Silence falls between them for a block, then two, then four. Keigo’s actually in the middle of waving at some fans, who thankfully stay on their side of the road - probably in deference to Endeavor’s presence - when the hero speaks again.

“As the number three hero, I cannot ask you to put friendships above heroics,” he says solemnly. “But if you choose to remain friends with Touya… please do not make it a habit to brush him off.”

Keigo blinks in surprise, his hand pausing mid-wave. Had he given the impression that he would ignore Touya? Or that he would treat him poorly?

Sluggish as his brain is, it takes peeking at Endeavor to connect the dots.

Ah, not a warning. A projection.

Keigo swallows, lowering his hand back to his side. He keeps his eyes ahead as he responds with equal weight.

“I haven’t known Touya long,” he admits, even though his crush on the man feels like it’s seeped into his bones at this point. “But he’s already earned my respect as both a person and a first responder.” He gives Endeavor a wry smile, knowing he’s about to land a blow. He tries to lessen it with a bit of humor. “There are a lot of authority figures whose opinions don’t mean much to me, but I don’t make a habit of brushing off the people I respect.”

Endeavor’s jaw clenches, and his flaming beard flares briefly. But then he takes a deep breath, releasing it to the exact count of ten. 

“Very well.”

And that’s the end of the conversation on their walk.

—-

Station 69…

Sitting at the dining table with his mom and Chief Nakamura, both deep in conversation about something from the news, Touya sips his coffee and lets the crew entertain his family, thinking back over the past couple of weeks.

If you’d told him that he’d be contemplating a conversation between his dad and Hawks — wondering if his dad, the emotional boulder, would be able to take care of Hawks, the pretty boy showboat — he wouldn’t have believed it. Just the thought that he would be concerned with heroes, one of them being his own dad, was laughable.

Ironic, considering heroics had once been his only goal in life. But after Sekoto Peak, and being found in the ashes by Chief Nakamura…

He shakes his head, dismissing the memories.

Must be something in the heroic water these days, he muses to himself, smiling as Akio and Natsuo’s debate over the best anime of the year gets heated about power scaling not being as interesting as solving mysteries. Their expressions are bright, so he knows there’s no real animosity there, which is nice. 

The same can be said of Fuyumi’s conversations with Okita and Renga over by the fridge. From the snippets he can hear, Renga is confirming that he faced challenges as a kid with brick-like skin, and Okita is just basking in Fuyumi’s presence. His quirk, Bouncy Ball, hadn’t caused him too many issues growing up except for some light teasing, but since Fuyumi’s studying for her teaching license, she’s happy to listen to anyone’s childhood experiences with discrimination in school.

She’s going to be well suited for her job, Touya thinks idly, letting his gaze drift over to Shouto, who’s paying painfully rapt attention to Marina and Airi as they walk him through —

“Hey, isn’t that my support equipment?” he asks the two women. Marina doesn’t look up, but Airi casts him a glance, though she doesn’t look even the slightest bit guilty.

“Yep, we’re showing your brother how we mitigate output with fire as strong as yours,” she tells him dismissively. “He might need to know someday.”

Touya rises from his seat and wanders over to the trio, who are all sitting at the kitchen bar, looking at his jacket, which is his primary support gear.

It doesn’t get worn often, frankly, though it’s always in the truck when the crew gets deployed. Only when a fire reaches a certain temperature — more than Touya’s resistance can handle — or when he anticipates he’ll need to use his quirk, does he don it.

Most house fires don’t call for it, as the temperatures are bearable for his natural resistance, but there have been a few instances where he’s needed it, like the chemical plant explosion and the quirk-enhanced forest fire a year ago. He’s also needed it a few times when villains were suspected to still be hanging around the scene, and Touya was designated as protection until the heroes arrived.

Touya hadn’t gotten his hero license, but civilians could still act in self-defense, and he was the only one on his crew with both an offensive quirk and some training in how to use it. If he and his crew needed to enter a battlezone to put out a fire, they could simply because the law allowed Touya to fight back if need be.

Fortunately, in a city presided over by Hawks, most of the time, the villains had already been dealt with by the time Touya and his crew arrived on scene. Which, now that he thinks about it, is a little disturbing. Hawks really was everywhere all the time, wasn’t he? So much so that Touya hadn’t even registered how abnormal it was that they rarely had to deal with villains while doing their job.

Huh, gonna have to table that for later examination, Touya thinks to himself as Marina points out the vents sewn into Touya’s coat, explaining how they let heat out without sacrificing protection. I wonder just how many jobs I’ve been on where Hawks was there first and had already cleared out by the time we arrived. 

“Wait, so the vents let heat out, but don’t let it in?” Shouto asks, examining the evenly spaced, titanium-rimmed slits in the seams of the shoulders and across the shoulders. 

“Nope!” Marina says delightedly, the light in her eyes far too bright at the opportunity to explain her genius. “I designed them with cooling coils inside the titanium. The coils are as thin as a thread and connect to the bracers, which hold the coolant. The bracers are pretty damn sturdy, though Touya’s already tried to break them twice —”

“Slander,” Touya cuts in. “That meathead was trying to take my head off —”

“So,” Marina continues, “I’ve been looking into more resistant materials for the past couple of months. Not easy to find something that doesn’t react with the coolant, though. And it doesn’t help that Touya’s quirk keeps getting stronger.”

“Wait,” Shouto says, head whipping in Touya’s direction to stare. “It’s gotten stronger? Last time, didn’t you max out around 2500 degrees?”

Touya shoots Marina the stink eye while Airi snickers at him. There’s a reason he doesn’t want his little brother knowing what’s up with his quirk.

“Last time, I wasn’t wearing support gear,” he tells Shouto. “If I tried to go all out without it, I’d fry myself, got it? You are not to go hotter without supervision or support gear.”

“But how hot did you get?” his brother pushes, stars in his eyes. Touya sighs.

“I hit 3000 before the meter melted,” he admits. “With support gear, and the whole team on standby with quirk-enhanced hoses, and a quirk assessor nearby. It was a controlled environment.”

“If you say so, Touya.”

Shouto doesn’t look at all put out by this news, and just returns happily to soaking up all the details Marina can give him. Meanwhile, Airi arches an eyebrow at him.

“Later,” Touya mouths at her over Shouto’s head. She nods, accepting the deferral.

It’s somewhere between annoying and ironic that Touya — the one who’d burned relentlessly to improve himself — is now the one holding Shouto back, preaching caution.

On the other hand, maybe it makes sense, given the lessons learned. 

We don’t need another Sekoto Peak.

It was only by virtue of a speedy rescue, and the sheer coincidence that a world-renowned quirk healer had been present at the hospital for another case, that Touya had survived. And while Shouto has a much more balanced quirk in that his ice reacts when he’s beginning to burn, they’ve never tested the upper limits of how balanced his quirk is.

Touya himself has a latent ice quirk. They’d discovered it at the hospital, as it had cooled his body and slowed his heart down enough for him to survive. But it’s nowhere near a fifty-fifty split. What if Shouto’s was the same?

There’s no point in risking it for something silly like keeping up or whatever. Shouto’s quirk is his own, and he doesn’t need to try and match anyone else at the tender age of fourteen, though it seems Touya will need to remind him so as soon as they have a moment of privacy. 

Which is not readily available in the firehouse. Even having four more people in it has the space feeling tighter.

Usually, he might escape back to his room when the loud voices and high energy get to be too much, but with his family around, he’s not afforded the luxury of escape. The best he can do is return to the dining table with Nakamura and his mom, whose voices are at reasonable decibels.

Pulling out his phone, he skims through notifications and messages for a moment before he finds himself hesitating over his last exchange with Hawks.

It’s not much. Just a quick confirmation that Touya’s interview from the apartment fire had been successfully submitted.

Touya stares at the brief exchange and has the urge to message the hero. 

Maybe he’s just chasing the same relief he felt when the hero showed up to the gas station fire. Or he can check in and see how Hawks is holding up. Either way, it would be a reasonable excuse to block out all the noise of the joint firehouse/Todoroki energy.

Running his tongue over his teeth, weighing whether he should bother the hero when he’s already so tired, Touya hears Natsuo loudly challenge Akio to something or another — maybe a footrace, maybe footsies, he’s not sure he wants to know — and he decides fuck it.

[To: Bird Hero]

sorry for bumming the old man off on ya 

need a rescue?

He sets his phone down, trying to ignore the way his heart rate has picked up a bit. It’s just because his loud brother is now crowing that he used to beat Touya — ah, it was football they were talking about — and proudly saying he could take Akio any day.

Then his phone buzzes.

[From: Bird Hero]

nah, but thanks

showing him around the agency a bit before my meeting

is endeavor always this quiet? its spooky 😨

[To: Bird Hero]

quiet means he has nothing bad to say lol

 

[From: Bird Hero]

i’ll take it

means he likes me right?

 

Touya smiles against his will.

[To: Bird Hero]

not sure it works that way birdie

 

[From: Bird Hero]

damn 😭

 

He lifts his phone and snaps a picture of the whole kitchen/dining area, with all his myriad white-haired family members engaged in conversation with his entire crew. Gives whole new meaning to getting along like a house on fire.

[To: Bird Hero]

at least your whole team isn’t adopting your family in front of you

pretty sure natsuo already has a job offer

 

[From: Bird Hero]

😂😂😂

if it makes you feel better endeavor told off my sidekicks for letting me do too much

said it was ‘ill advised for their professional development’

did you put him up to that?

Touya snorts. He didn’t, but that doesn’t mean he hadn’t had his own unfriendly thoughts about Hawks’ sidekicks leaving the hero to do all the work.

[To: Bird Hero]

not taking credit for that

but he’s probably got a point

 

[From: Bird Hero]

😱😱😱

this from endeavor’s biggest Titter tormenter?

you’re going soft 😭😭😭

 

A laugh escapes Touya before he can stop it, though he turns it into a cough when his mom looks across the table at him, eyebrows arched. 

[To: Bird Hero]

you take that back

 

[From: Bird Hero]

call em as i see em, dough boi

anyway, i gotta go into my meeting now

pls tell ur dad not to terrorize my coworkers 😩

 

[To: Bird Hero]

nah

a little scolding keeps em on their toes

 

[From: Bird Hero]

so you DID put him up to this

wow wow wow

getting you back for that

later tho

byeeee 

 

Touya’s amusement lasts until he puts away his phone and looks up to see his mom and Nakamura watching him openly.

“What?” he says defensively under their twin looks of indulgent knowing. Nakamura shrugs and returns to his tea. His mom just smiles benignly.

“Did you have a nice chat with Hawks?” she asks, taking a bite of one of the macadamia cookies from Okita. Touya shrugs, refusing to acknowledge her (correct) guess.

“He’s showing Endeavor around his agency and suffering,” he says. “Poor him.”

“Ahh, yes,” she replies, grey eyes glittering. “Poor him.”

Nakamura’s eyebrows draw down. “Your old man is in town too?”

Touya shoots his chief a look. He’d almost forgotten that Marina wasn’t the only one with Endeavor beef.

“Yeah, he’s… looking into something. Doubt he’ll be by the station.”

Grizzled cheeks draw tight like Nakamura’s sucked on a lemon. “Shame, that.”

Touya just offers another shrug. Normally, he’d be all for Marina making his dad squirm and Nakamura giving him the disapproving stink eye. After all, between Marina knowing that quirk eugenics were the reason Touya’s quirk was so finicky and Nakamura being the firefighter who found Touya’s smoldering body at Sekoto Peak, they’ve both got some reason to dislike the hero.

With Endeavor looking into Hawks’ situation on Touya’s behalf, though… and doing it unprompted, of all things. Maybe he can give the guy a break. 

“Y’know how Hawks came by the station at the ass crack of dawn the other day?” Touya asks, deciding to hell with it, the chief might as well know too. “He didn’t sleep that night. Didn’t sleep last night either — apparently doing some super secret mission that only he could do.” He raises both eyebrows at the chief. “One time is an accident, but twice in a week is a bit much.”

Nakamura’s expression relaxes. “And Endeavor’s taken an interest?”

“What’s that saying about old dogs, new tricks?” Touya says wryly, casting a glance at his mom, who’s suspiciously silent. She offers him a sad smile, like she often does when Endeavor’s past mania is brought up. “Dunno what’s got him acting so decent this trip, though.”

Rei’s smile turns a bit warmer. “He’s made quite a bit of progress in therapy recently.”

“That’s… good, I guess,” Touya says neutrally. “Less annoying than dealing with his commentary, at least.”

Nakamura gives Touya a significant look over his teacup, and Touya gives the barest shake of his head. He doesn’t need help dealing with his dad. Not like he did as a kid, helpless and heartbroken, waking up in an unfamiliar hospital months after his accident. 

The doctors told him he’d died four times on the table, and that he’d been put in a healing coma to help his body recover from the trauma. His voice had hurt from smoke inhalation and disuse, but he’d still asked if it was his father who’d found him. And it had hurt like nothing else to learn that, no, it hadn’t been Endeavor, but an off-duty fireman who’d noticed the smoke while out on a hike and had called for backup.

The intervention kept Sekoto Peak from being completely destroyed. It kept Touya from dying.

It didn’t help the pain of abandonment.

He hadn’t spoken to his father for months afterward, no matter the demands, threats, or eventual pleading. Only when his mom suggested therapy for the three of them, where the therapist asked just the right questions, had the poison boiling inside of him spilled over.

The horror of his father leaving him behind, shutting him out, and shutting him down at every turn. The pain that rejection caused. The hate it created for his replacements, even knowing he shouldn’t be angry at innocent kids. The anger at his parents for never trying to help him in a world where miracles were possible. The grief that they preferred making more babies over giving him a chance.

Before his parents could respond, the therapist had asked them to step outside. Then she’d told Touya, with complete seriousness, that she was obligated to report this to the Child Guidance Center. She’d told him that this was neglect and that neglect had nearly gotten him killed.  

Touya… hadn't known it was that bad. And when his parents returned to the room, their stricken faces showed they were also realizing the gravity of what they’d done. 

They had to have a consultation with representatives from the CGC, and it had been damning enough for them to ask the children if they would like to be removed from the home. Touya had protested, as had Fuyumi. Natsuo simply wanted to stay with his siblings, and Shouto had barely been five. He didn't know any better, but he did shyly ask to see his siblings more often. The agent on the case had not been impressed with Endeavor.

A lot of mandated therapy had followed. A lot of screaming matches. A lot of tears. A lot of stubbornness and resistance to change. 

Still, the change came. Slowly, surely, with many growing pains. Until one day, Touya found himself interning at Endeavor’s agency for the express purpose of learning how to control his quirk, not just use it to the max.

Endeavor’s sidekicks had teased him about getting the fast track into heroics. The secretary commented that Touya would surely enjoy spending more time with his dad. Even the janitor grinned toothily at him, clearly recognizing Endeavor’s firstborn.

Touya might’ve made progress with his old man, but not that much progress. Not when he knew that only a few short years ago, Endeavor had taken to staying late at work just to avoid him.

So he’d issued his first round of return fire.

“No heroics for me,” he told the sidekicks blandly. “Have you seen Endeavor’s costume? I can live without the constant wedgie.”

“Not spending time with my dad,” he corrected the secretary. “Just Endeavor.”

He returned the smile to the janitor, though, because his mother hadn’t raised a total asshole.

Regardless, word spread like wildfire through the agency: Todoroki Touya was not going into heroics, and he… had issues with his father?

Endeavor hadn’t been impressed, but rather than reacting with anger, he’d grudgingly accepted Touya’s public stance on their relationship. As long as Touya didn’t say anything too derogatory, their training arrangement could continue.

In the meantime, Touya had learned the surprising… satisfaction of needling his dad. Everyone always looked so shocked when he commented on his old man getting slower or on the property damage he caused. Before, no one would dare.

Touya tested his limits occasionally, but Endeavor didn’t blow up, no matter how many matches Touya struck. It was the first indicator that maybe their relationship would be okay. They’d never return to the ‘proud father and starstruck son’ dynamic they’d had when Touya was little, but they’d pulled back from the vicious blame game they’d been trapped in after Touya’s accident.

A happy medium, some would say.

Funnily enough, with Endeavor now accepting regular hassling from his son in his agency, the public became more endeared toward him. The hot-head hero, taking teasing like a champ? Only telling his son to get back to work when he caught him drawing curly mustaches on the lobby banners of Endeavor’s face? It was… kind of cute.

Even All Might thought so, because one day he came by Endeavor’s agency to speak with the number two. Excitement was high in the building, as All Might had been on an extended trip to the United States for the past couple of months, and no one had seen the number one in Japan yet.

Touya kind of thought All Might looked like he’d been sick, rather than traveling, but he didn’t say so. Standing next to Endeavor as part of the lobby welcome party, he just gave his dad a once-over and said, “I’ll give you this: at least your hair is normal.”

Endeavor sighed and, even from twenty feet away, All Might boomed out a laugh. Apparently, he’d heard, though he didn’t show any hard feelings when he shook Touya’s hand. 

Later, Endeavor called him into his office, looking pensive. When Touya flopped into the cushy seat across from his dad, he couldn’t have predicted what his father would say.

“All Might is… planning to retire,” he stated, looking a bit numb. “He had a rough fight recently, and he plans to turn his hero status to ‘level S disaster’ only. He -” Endeavor swallowed “- wanted to confirm with his own eyes that I could take on his mantle as number one. He said… seeing the two of us together sealed it for him. That he had… worried, before, when my approval ratings were so low. That I might not be approachable or reliable for the average civilian in need of help.”

Touya had never seen his father look so humbled, outside of the family therapist reading him the riot act all those years ago.

“I didn’t want to become number one this way. I thought strength and tenacity were the only things I needed to overcome him,” Endeavor snorted out a brief gout of flame, but he didn’t seem angry. “I was wrong. I needed to become a better person first.”

He looked up at Touya, gaze searching. “You tell me, Touya. Am I there yet?”

—-

Should’ve taken Touya up on his offer to collect his dad, Keigo thinks as he stands outside Conference Room 4, where his handler, Diamond, awaits him, trying to convince Endeavor that there’s no need for an introduction.

“We’re just debriefing,” Keigo points out. “About a confidential mission.”

“And you’ve introduced me to everyone in your agency so far,” Endeavor says stolidly. “What makes this employee different, Hawks?”

Nothing, except I’m their employee, not the other way around, Keigo muses. Before he can try to come up with an excuse, though, Diamond steps out of the conference room.

She’s tiny compared to the number one hero, but she doesn’t appear intimidated at all, staring up at him with colorless, fractal eyes. Her ice blond hair falls back over the shoulders of her immaculately pressed blazer, and her lips press together in a cool smile.

“Endeavor,” she greets. “Hawks did not say that he would have a visitor of your status today.”

Translation: she does not appreciate the interruption, Keigo notes, wings twitching at his back. Whenever Diamond doesn’t like something, Keigo tends to find additional work on his plate within the week.

“I am in town visiting family,” Endeavor rumbles, sizing up Keigo’s handler like he’s not sure if she’s an enemy or not. “There was a minor incident near our lunch location, and we ended up assisting.” The hero’s eyes narrow and flames flicker at the edges of his jaw. The picture of heroic duty. “I have not yet had the pleasure of meeting Hawks’ team, so I came along. As heroes, we never know what kinds of team-ups we’ll adopt in a crisis.” 

“Too true,” Diamond says smoothly. “We are, of course, grateful for your forward thinking. If you would like to continue your tour, I’m certain Hawks could arrange for one of his sidekicks to take over?”

“I’d prefer to talk to your scheduler,” Endeavor says, looking at Hawks shrewdly. “It seems they’ve not been given the proper training on allowing their hero to rest.”

Ah, now he’s done it.

Diamond doesn’t outwardly react, but Keigo can see the doorjamb she’s holding crystallize under her grip, becoming a patch of black diamond. He swallows.

“I already told you, big guy,” he says sheepishly, trying to play up the bashful young hero angle. “I had a couple of long days, but they’re one-off situations. I’m going right home after this to catch some z’s, I promise.”

Endeavor’s stern glare softens a bit, and he pats Keigo on the shoulder.

“See that you do,” he says gruffly. Then he turns to Diamond. “Please take care of him. Our young heroes can burn out too easily if we let them.”

“Of course,” Diamond murmurs, casting her unnerving gaze on Hawks. He can feel his feathers shiver close to his spine. “We always do.”

Keigo nods stiffly, then turns to clap Endeavor on the forearm.

“Go spend some time with your family, big guy,” he says with forced cheer. “I’ve got it from here.”

Endeavor nods. “Very well.”

By the time he’s no longer visible, Keigo can feel the disapproval like a glacial storm settling into the space between him and his handler. Finally, he turns to look at her, unsurprised to see her professional frown.

“Hawks,” she says, gesturing him into the conference room and then locking the door behind him. There’s a small crackle as the anti-bugging technology kicks on throughout the room. “We need to have a grave conversation.”

Keigo stands at attention, body stretched thin and brain sapped of all pithy comebacks. Not that it would matter. There’s no coming out of this conversation unscathed.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Tuesday breakfast cannot come fast enough.