Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first thing Keigo does when he wakes up is check his email. If he had his way, he’d start off with anything else, but this is how it is when you’re someone like Keigo, who works directly under the Hero Public Safety Commission.

Most days, he knows what to expect. His email stays empty, save for the occasional team-up request or if there’s an A-rank villain he’s expected to capture. The Commission prefers to deliver

Today, however, he wakes up to an email labeled Regarding Yuuei’s Sports Festival. It gives Keigo a momentary pause, but he doesn’t dwell on it. 

He yawns and opens the email, clicking with the slight impatience of someone who has better, or at least more entertaining things to do. Right away, he wishes he hadn’t.

Dear Hawks, it begins. Your report on Yuuei’s Sports Festival was acceptable. As we are sure you took into account, we’ve noticed Midoriya Izuku’s growing connection to All Might-Yagi Toshinori, as well as his impressive array of skills. He also has several weaknesses.

Keigo skims over the email, but he gets the gist just fine. He’s supposed to send an internship offer to Midoriya Izuku. 

This is going to be interesting.

Keigo’s only ever met the kid in passing, but Midoriya’s fanaticism would be impossible to ignore. Keigo has no doubt his offer will be accepted, save for extreme circumstances, but what then? The Commission’s intent is clear as day; he’s to recruit Midoriya for the same program he went through. 

But Keigo remembers the training all too clearly. His wings, bound up and lashed together for days on end in case he ran into a villain who could do the same. Blindfolded and thrust into an endless maze in preparation of some obscure villain who’s name Keigo has long since forgotten.

Left dehydrated and starving when Keigo failed, when he wasn’t up to the test, when he didn’t meet the Commissions impossibly high standards. 

Does Keigo really want to groom another child to face the same things? Especially one so bright and kindhearted as Midoriya Izuku?

Keigo doesn’t think so, but what else can he do? If he fails to extend an internship offer, the Commission will know what he’s up to, but he can’t turn Midoriya away once he accepts it either. Keigo’s office is bugged, he knows, so he can’t covertly teach Midoriya all that he needs to know to escape the Commissions grasp. Not unless…

The Commission stuck him in one of their high-rise apartment complexes, but he never stays there. No, he stays in the house he bought himself. Keigo bought this home himself, with money he’s secretly been saving up. The Commission doesn’t know about it; he bought it under a fake name, and there’s no one around for miles. No one to leak information about his real home for all to see.

If Keigo brings Midoriya here, he can solve his problem. The Commission won’t be able to spy on him, and he can warn Midoriya to speak in code whenever they’re in the office. It’s a perfect plan, Keigo thinks, until he realizes a gaping hole in the issue. 

The bugs.

The Commission trained Keigo to be silent; they’ve never thought much of the silence in his apartment at night. But they’ll surely expect him and Midoriya to stay there at night, and Keigo doesn’t know how to distract them. Some sort of looped recording, perhaps? No, the Commission would sniff that out in a heartbeat. 

Keigo sighs, he’ll just have to put up with the Commission’s questions. He is not bringing Midoriya to that house. 

Although… he sits up glances around his room. It is much cleaner. Keigo has some picking up to do. For now, though, he has much more pressing concerns. He swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands up. 

It’s time for patrol; Japan needs him.

Patrol takes up his entire morning, but his afternoon is thankfully empty. He shoots off a text to Rumi on his way home; he’s a skilled enough flier that this kind of lapse in concentration isn’t fatal, or even a cause for concern. 

By the time Keigo reaches his house, Rumi is impatiently waiting at the front door.

“What took you so long, Bird Brain?” she calls out. Keigo lets his wings flare out and smack her before drawing them in. “Hey!”

“You deserve it,” he shrugs and opens the door, unfazed as Rumi shoves past him. “And nothing held me up; I just forgot how quick you always are.”

“So you admit that I’m the speedster in this relationship?” she shoots back, a feral grin on her face. Keigo rolls his eyes and follows her inside, the door falling shut behind him.

“Last I recall, I’m the reigning champion of our races,” Keigo tosses back easily. He hears the faint, familiar thud that means Rumi’s leaped onto his couch, and glances into the fridge. “Want anything while I’m up?”

“Some soda would be nice! I’m parched!” she exclaims. “But back to your earlier point; races don’t mean shit if you’re not fast when it really counts.”

Keigo is struck by her blunt honesty, but shrugs it off as always and tosses her a soda. “If you say so, Rumi.”

She rolls her eyes and kicks her feet back. “Yeah, whatever.”

Keigo grins and sits back, himself. “Anyways, what’s been going on with you, Rumi?”

“Nothin’ much,” she shrugs. “Everythings a shitshow, as per usual, but nothing’s really happened.”

“Really?” Keigo raises an eyebrow. “Weren’t you in Hosu when Stain attacked Ingenium?”

Rumi winces and mirrors his gesture. “Do you really want to talk about that right now?” Keigo hesitates, and she sighs. “I know you didn’t just call me here for some idle chit-chat. What’s going on?”

Keigo hesitates. Talking to Rumi had seemed like a good idea, but now that she’s actually here, he isn’t sure. He’s always venting to her, since she’s the only real friend he has, and she rarely complains to him. (He isn’t sure if she’s that content with her lot in life, or if she’s just that guarded. He’s never been brave enough to ask.)

He hesitates long enough that Rumi leans forward and says, “Hey. Talk to me. You’ve clearly got something on your mind.”

Keigo sighs and works to keep from clenching his fists. His teachers at the HPSC have been useful for one thing- Keigo’s nervous habits are nearly unnoticable unless you know him well.

Rumi, though, has known him for years, and she isn’t fooled.

“C’mon, Birdy! Talk to me,” she coaxes. And Keigo lets himself be persuaded. It’s all too easy for him to show her the email and describe his troubles.

“-so how do I keep them from finding my secret house without staying at the bugged one?” he finishes.

Rumi tilts her head and blinks. “It’s simple. Just tell them that Midoriya’s going home for the night, then take him back to your place!”

“Can it really be that easy?” Keigo wonders aloud. 

Rumi shrugs. “I don’t see why not. Just make sure the kiddo’s in on the plan so he doesn’t go blabbing about it to everyone and their mother.”

He nods, and she grins. “Now that that problem’s solved, why don’t you actually send the offer?”

Keigo starts, then ducks into the kitchen for his laptop with a speed only achieved by Pros. The offer’s drafted and sent within minutes, and he can only hope that Midoriya sees his before he picks someone else.

Now that Keigo’s used to the idea, it’ll be nice having a chickling of his own to mentor.

Especially one as powerful as Midoriya Izuku.

Chapter Text

Izuku wakes up to two loud chirps that vaguely reminiscent of the sound Kouda’s birds make whenever they dive bomb someone. He yawns and groggily rubs his eyes, then glances at his phone.

Midnight? Who would possibly contact Izuku then? And when did he turn his ringer on?

It’s only then that Izuku notices the email. It’s from Hawks. Number three hero Hawks. Smooth, suave Hawks, the hero everyone agrees is going places, the hero who’s never caught off guard, the hero who just sent Izuku an email.

Suddenly awake, Izuku scrambles to actually open it and see what Hawks said. Maybe it’s a note on his performance at the Sports Festival, or maybe he’s contacting Izuku on behalf of the Hero Commission to revoke his status as a Yuuei student due to his… late bloomer status. He really doesn’t know what it could be.

Izuku barely holds back a scream of unbridled delight and shock when he sees that it’s an internship offer. An internship offer!

With the number three hero, no less! Izuku rocks back and forth for a few minutes as he tries to comprehend. Why on Earth would Hawks pick him? He rereads the email for some sort of hint, but comes up with nothing. And the more Izuku thinks about it, the odder it strikes him.

Midoriya Izuku, I would like to extend you an internship offer for the week of the fifteenth. Please get back to me as soon as possible.

Hawks

That’s it. Two sentences and a name. From a man who’s usually so verbose… his conciseness speaks volumes. Izuku is wary, but he’s well aware that he’d be foolish to turn down such an offer.

His return email is just as short.

Thank you for the offer. I will fill out the necessary paperwork this afternoon.

In this world, it’s better safe than sorry, and Hawks is seemingly sending a message in an ordinary email. Izuku doesn’t know what all this has to do with him , but he’s damn well getting to the bottom of it.

~~~

Keigo shoved Rumi out the door and collapsed immediately after sending the email, so he doesn’t see the kids’ response until morning. Thankfully, he isn’t a dumbass. From what he’s overheard, Midoriya’s as enthusiastic as a puppy and doesn’t hesitate to ramble on, so Keigo’s glad for the brevity of the email.

Midoriya’s accepting it, which is good. He could have said no, but at this point it’s inevitable that the Hero Commision will try to… acquire him, so it’s better for him to study under someone who’ll actually look out for him.

If Hawks informs the Commission that Midoriya doesn’t want to join, that’ll mostly be the end of that. They may send him an occasional email or “training opportunity,” but if even Hawks, master manipulator and Commission lapdog can’t convince him, what hope does a regular old official have?

So yes, Keigo is glad that Midoriya got the message. He only hopes that he can convey his intentions to the kid without him compromising anything. With the Hero Commission, nowhere’s safe from prying ears and peeping eyes.

Keigo stretches, then forwards the email to the Hero Commission (despite the fact that they’ve surely seen it already, as they monitor his communication) and falls back asleep.

Come Monday, Keigo’s flying laps around his office as he waits for Midoriya to arrive. The kid’s not supposed to be here for another ten minutes, but sue him, he’s nervous. Keigo hasn’t interacted with anyone outside of his handlers and Rumi in practically forever, and even then he wasn’t chatting up kids outside the local KFC or anything.

But it doesn’t matter. It’ll be fine, Keigo’s fine, everything is fine! 

Midoriya arrives before he can psych himself out too much, thankfully, and Keigo flies down to meet him.

“Ah, Deku,” he greets jovially. “What a pleasure to meet you. I’m sure you know who I am, but for formality's sake I’m Hawks!”

Midoriya blinks, but Keigo loops an arm around his shoulder and pulls him inside before he even has a chance to speak. 

“As you can see, my office building is right here behind me, and we’re going to start off with a short tour!” Keigo easily loops his arm around Midoriya, pulling the kid inside with him before he can protest or even respond.

True to his word, the tour takes less than ten minutes, Keigo pulling Midoriya from room to room in a transparent attempt to keep it moving. They end up in Keigo’s office, where he tells Midoriya to dump his stuff. He does, bewildered though he looks.

“Hawks, sir, isn’t this moving a bit fast?” he asks breathlessly.

Keigo shrugs. “Maybe a bit, but that’s only because we’ve got so much to cover in just a week! Aren’t you excited?”

“Of course I am, just. It’s more than I expected,” Midoriya admits.

He nods sympathetically, although he keeps his tone brisk. “It’s just how it goes sometimes, kid. Still, a hero needs to be quick on their feet, yeah?”

Midoriya nods hesitantly, and Keigo flashes him a quick grin. “Right! Well, before we get started on paperwork and all of that dusty old stuff, how would you like to see the city from my point of view?”

“Huh? What does that-” Midoriya blinks. “I mean… sure?”

“Awesome! Hold tight.” Keigo presses a button, then falls out the window. As he nears the ground, he catches a glimpse of Midoriya peeking over the side, concerned. “Heads up,” Keigo calls, swooping in through the window and snatching Midoriya up. “It’s time for your luxury tour via Hawks Express!”

“Woah,” Midoriya exclaims, starry-eyed.

Keigo chuckles, a little proud at how easily he rendered the kid speechless. “Just relax and enjoy the ride!”

With that, he flaps his wings and soars higher, until they’re just about even with the nearby skyscrapers. Keigo weaves in and out of them for a good long while.

Then, “Hey, kid, what’do ya say we go higher?”

“Higher?” he breathes. Keigo can’t see his expression but he’d bet anything that the kid’s grinning real hard right now. “Isn’t Yuuei’s motto plus ultra? ” 

Keigo grins, himself, then takes a sharp turn upwards, flapping his wings with all his might. See, this is why he always wears a jacket, despite the summer heat. 

When you’re flying in the clouds, it’s like being dumped in an icy fog. The wind ruffles your hair and it’s all you can do to keep breathing, in the face of such an endless, vast expanse. Nothing but clouds and the stars and you. 

Sometimes, you get a nice burst of wind that keeps you up, propels you forward. For a few moments, you’re weightless.

It’s Keigo’s favorite feeling.

Now, though, he has Midoriya with him, and while the kid weighs him down, it’s not enough to pull Keigo off his groove, not enough to heat the cool air entirely. And Keigo brought him up here.

Besides, the wondrous laughs the kid lets slip makes it all worth it. (Keigo’s never quite felt the draw of interacting with kids beyond what he needs to, but this might just make him reconsider. The Commission’s been urging him to cater to his younger fanbase for a few weeks now, and Keigo would have to give in eventually.)

“Hey kid, want to do something super cool?”

“Yes yes yes!” Midoriya exclaims.

Keigo, unbeknownst to him, smirks. “Excellent.”

He folds his wings in close and swoops down in a nosedive.

Midoriya lets out a shrill scream that’s (just barely) tinged with excitement and makes Keigo laugh. The whoop soon turns to actual fright, though, when the building draws nearer and Keigo doesn’t let up or move.

“Hawks, what-”

“Just stay put, kid!” he exclaims.

Three seconds to impact…

Two…

One…

At the last moment, Keigo pulls sharply upwards and they glide over the rooftops without a scratch. Midoriya draws his head from his hands, then exhales loudly.

They land a few minutes later, Keigo releasing Midoriya onto the roof of a building Keigo picked so that it’d seem random.

“Fun, right?”

“Fun? I thought I was gonna die!” Midoriya exclaims heatedly. Keigo just waits a moment, and eventually Midoriya smiles a bit. “It was fun though.”

“Told you so,” Keigo says in jest, bumping his elbow against the kids’. “Now, let’s head inside.”

“Sure, but… where are we?”

Keigo smiles mysteriously. “You’ll find out.”

--

They are, as Izuku finds out, at Miruko’s office building. It’s hidden in plain sight away from the public eye. In stark contrast to Hawks’ agency, Miruko’s office is near-empty of people, the only other ones besides herself, Hawks and Izuku are her secretaries. It’s common knowledge that the rabbit hero doesn’t love team ups, but Izuku hadn’t anticipated it was to this extent. Still, he shouldn’t be so surprised.

It doesn’t dampen Izuku’s enthusiasm in the slightest, at least, and he bounces around from room to room with her, a thousand questions on the tip of his tongue.

“Miruko, how powerful are your kicks?”

“Miruko, why don’t you ever use weapons?”

“Miruko, why-”

“Look, kid,” she cuts him off. “I’m just here to give ya a tour and give you and Hawks a private space to talk.” (Private space? he wonders) “I’m happy to answer some of your questions some other time, but I’ve got to get back to work and you and Hawks need to talk.”

“Okay,” Izuku says, properly chastised. 

Miruko ruffles his hair a bit, “See ya later, kid. Use whatever room you want,” she tells Hawks, then bounces off down the hallway.

“You heard the lady,” Hawks grins. “Off we go!” He darts up a flight of stairs and makes two rights and oh Izuku’s already forgotten how to get to the entrance. 

Hawks gestures Izuku into a random meeting room and pulls the door shut tight behind him, and now that they’re alone, really alone, Izuku finally bursts. “ What is happening?”

Hawks sighs deeply. “Pull up a chair, kid. It’s a long story.”

“I-” Izuku hesitates, “Okay.”

Hawks holds his breath a moment, then exhales. “Kid, how much do you know about the Hero Public Safety Commission?”

--

“Not much, honestly. For a public building they keep quite a lot hidden, but they’re supposed to keep the Hero aspect of society- aka nearly the entire thing- up and running. They hand out licenses and make sure the heroes are up to code, although there are rumors of them kidnapping and raising heroes, they’re most commonly about you, actually, and- oh , I’m sorry Hawks-sensei!! You probably don’t want to hear all the conspiracy theories!” the kid flushes, red as a tomato, and ducks his head

The kid’s a bit confused, but he’s got the spirit.

“Well, they’re not conspiracy theories if they’re true, right?”

“If they’re… oh shit,” Midoriya curses.

Keigo laughs darkly. “Yeah.” 

Midoriya leans back in his chair. “I… what happened? How did it end up like this?”

Keigo sighs. “To tell you the truth, I don’t really know. As long as I can remember, this has been my normal. All I know for sure is that the Hero Commission is rotten to the core, and it would take a lot more than a figurehead replacement to solve the problems it generates.”

“It would have to, yeah,” Midoriya agrees. He looks faintly nauseous. Keigo really hopes he doesn’t puke; Rumi will kill him if he fucks the place up when she doesn’t hire any cleaners. “What- how does it even work? Did they just snatch you or…” 

Keigo chuckles darkly. “It wasn’t something out of a myth, it was no tragic happenstance. When I was a kid, I saved one of my classmates on sheer instinct. The next day, a representative from the Commission showed up on my doorstep, contract in hand. My mother signed me over,” he recalls, bitterness tinging his tone. “They sold me to the Hero Commission for practically nothing.”

Midoriya inhales sharply, his bitter shock as easy to read as a children’s picture book (not that Keigo’s read many). “Hawks, that’s…”

“Takami,” he interrupts. “Takami Keigo. That’s my name.”

Midoriya blinks back his shock and nods. “Takami. Okay.”

Keigo sighs. Midoriya believes him, he can clearly see, but the kid is too close to the root source. Anyone can see how he takes after All Might, who’s the Hero Commission’s lapdog (much like Keigo, but blind to the truth).

Midoriya won’t be able to extricate himself from the HPSC’s grasp. Keigo has to help him.

“Run, Midoriya. Run,” he whispers intensely. “This world- the betrayal, the lies, the secrecy- it isn’t meant for you. You’re… too naive. You don’t want innocent blood on your hands.” Ruefully, Keigo says, “Sometimes that's the only way forward.”

Midoriya juts his chin out, a determined glint in his eye. “A real hero could save every life,” he says, certain. “Thank you for… opening my eyes. But the way to fix the system isn’t to break it from the outside, it’s to take it down from the inside. Without sacrificing innocent lives.”

“I wish it were that simple,” Keigo says quietly. “Still, I admire your determination. If you think you can do it, then go ahead and try. I have a feeling you’ll surpass all us old-timers anyhow, might as well start now.”

Midoriya dips his head. “I’ll save everyone, Takami. I swear it.”

An oath, Keigo muses to himself. That’s heavy. Still, he can’t find it in himself to doubt Midoriya. Not when he has such fervent passion burning in his eyes, not when he’s standing up to the number three pro hero without visibly breaking a sweat. 

“Well alright, then,” he says, and spreads his hands wide. “Ask me, kid. What do you need to know?”

“Everything, for a start,” Midoriya says, pulling a beaten notebook from his backpack. Keigo barks out a laugh and leans onto a nearby bookshelf.

“Well, kid, you better get to writing. Ain’t nothing short about the Hero Commission’s history.”

Keigo tells Midoriya as much as he can manage, talking until his throat goes sore and they have to take a short break for lunch. After that, they stay in that room until the night goes dark and the air is chilly. Rumi has been kind for the most part, letting them hijack her base of operations, but even she has to kick them out eventually. Keigo pretends to bring Midoriya to his HPSC-owned house, then brings him back to home base instead. Safe and away from the HPSC’s prying eyes. 

Keigo cooks up some fried chicken for a near-midnight snack, then sends the boy to bed with a full stomach and a full mind. 

The rest of their internship week follows its own, grueling schedule. Keigo and Midoriya wake with the sun and scarf down a quirk breakfast. From there, they’re immediately out on the field, because in the field training is ideal-- it’s more effective, both in terms of technique and teaching Midoriya what he needs to know to survive in this blood-soaked world the Hero Public Safety Commission created. 

For lunch, they stop at various rooftop cafes that Keigo often haunts, and they’re out on the scene again before half an hour has passed. 

For the first day or two Keigo tries to shield Midoriya from the news-- enough so that his handler comments on it-- but when the kid brings it up, sounding slightly put up, Keigo realizes that the kid wants the publicity. He wants to be seen.

(“Are you sure?” Keigo had asked.

“What better way to make an impact?” Midoriya had said, feigning nonchalance. 

Keigo understood. After all, hadn’t he been forced to do the same? At least Midoriya got his choice in the matter.)

The pair is out from sunrise to sunset, and Keigo’s popularity ratings soar, along with Midoriya’s. Once the kid gets over his stammering shyness, he’s a natural in the spotlight, and the public adores him. 

It only heightens the Commission’s desire to possess the kid, which makes Keigo’s job of keeping him safe harder, but it’ll be worth it in the end. Keigo can already see the beginnings of Midoriya’s impact, and the little splash will build into a tidal wave that’ll sweep the nation off the precarious ledge they’ve been balancing on for decades. 

Keigo can’t wait.