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You’re seven when you meet this strange boy with bright, red wings, yet a dull smile.
Your mom says not to speak to him; his dad is bad, so he must be bad as well. But he seems lonely. You’ve never seen him smile at all, even when you could’ve sworn everyone who’s as tall as you laugh as hard as you do.
You want to help him.
When you finally acquire the courage to walk up to him, he’s gazing at the ground with those soulless eyes. He’s sitting there, like a lost kid. It’s odd how he looks so younger than you even when you swore your mother said he’s only a year older.
Maybe it’s because of how vulnerable he looks.
Your eyes wander to the red wings attached to his body, the feathers hardly flapping with the soft breeze.
You speak before you can even think twice. “Those are pretty.”
He looks up, alarmed, arms raised to cover his face.
You furrow your brows, guilty at the frightened look on his round face. “‘M Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” you tell him, cautiously bending down to your knees to match his height.
He squints at you, watching intently to see if you’d do anything else. But, instead, you sit completely still, a soft smile playing on your lips.
“I like your wings,” you tell him, gentler this time.
He nods. “Thanks,” he whispers as if he’s afraid of speaking any louder. “I like your… um….”
A giggle draws out from your lips when he can’t seem to come up with a proper compliment, as if he’s never given one to anyone before. “It’s ‘kay. I don’t have cool wings like you.”
“Don’t be jealous. I don’t think they’re that cool,” he tells you, peeking at his wings—it’s harsh, the way his eyes cut through what’s part of him.
“You can fly,” you insist, letting your hands rise into the air, tracing the clouds in the sky. “You’d feel so free up there. Isn’t that cool?”
He seems to decide on something when you look back at him.
“Yeah… It is pretty cool, I guess.” Then, suddenly, he takes hold of your hand, holding it out in front of both of you. “Take a look at this.”
On the center of your palm, he places a feather. Then, it wiggles against your skin, startling a laugh out of you.
“It’s moving!” you marvel, in awe of the feather who waves at you.
“I know.” He smiles widely. “I made it move.”
It’s fate that you found someone like him.
Ever since then, you and Keigo have been inseparable .
Although he told you that his parents would get mad if they saw you hanging out with the likes of him ( which is bullshit, by the way ), he still tries to find a way to make sure he’s by your side as much as possible.
And even though you were too young to understand, you knew you were in love with him.
Something happened yesterday—something must have!
Keigo isn’t— It’s empty here.
You wanted to say goodbye before you finally moved out of the country with your mother, but he isn’t even there . Your only friend, gone—there isn’t even a single trace of him left.
You haven’t seen him since then.
Now, you don’t really consider yourself an unlucky person, but when a slimy villain comes barreling in the cafe you’re working at, you’re having second thoughts about it.
“Seriously?” Your friend, Eiko, groans; he looks like he’s a second away from slamming his head against the marble surface—which is honestly understandable. “This is the third time this week! And it’s a Tuesday!”
As the both of you hide underneath the counter, you mix the customer’s coffee order, really hoping that she didn’t leave yet just because of the attack. She was looking like she would give generous tips. You could use a new pair of pants to wear at work.
“They should seriously give us twice our paycheck having to clean up… that .” You point at the clumps of slime splashing all over the windows and the tables. “Why do we always get the villains that make the most mess? Hygiene rates are decreasing.”
Eiko looks at you in disbelief. “Why the hell are you still— Oh, look, there’s slime in that coffee.”
You look down. “Fuck!”
BANG!
You and Eiko glance at each other in confusion when elated gasps and relieved sighs fill the shop. Out of curiosity, you peek out from the top of the counter, seeing the slimy villain ( is their body just made out of slime, or are they just covered in that goo? Honestly, you don’t even want to know ) pinned to the wall with something sharp and red.
“Aw, seriously?” A new voice pipes up, causing you to tear your gaze away from the mucky scoundrel and to the figure swallowed in a beige jacket. He clicks his tongue. Some girls faint nearby, and you worry that your workplace will be accused of teenage homicide later. “You got my feathers all slimy.”
Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of the familiar pair of wings attached to his back.
“What the…” Eiko mutters, brows furrowed. “Since when did Hawks started patrolling this area?”
“Hawks?” you quietly repeat, your eyes still glued to the man who’s currently kicking the villain’s ass. He can’t be… No, that’s not possible—
Eiko laughs. “C’mon. I know you just moved in this week, but there’s no way you aren’t aware of the No. 2 Pro Hero?”
You stare at him.
Eiko gasps. “Holy crap, you aren’t . What kind of uncultured swine are you?”
“An uncultured one,” you reply, turning back to the hero who has now successfully kicked slime man’s ass. The feathers fly back to him, connecting to his back once again. “Do you know what his real name is?”
“What? Why would you want to know his real name?”
“...Nothing. Nevermind.”
Hawks comes out of the little fight victorious.
Now that the ruckus is solved, both of you stand up and whip out your cleaning materials before your boss comes in to see the mess. Unfortunately, the villain had scared off some of your customers, but this is also a fortunate moment since a hero in your coffee shop attracted a crowd despite the mess.
“Alright!” Eiko’s eyes sparkle with excitement, clapping his hands once. “We shall abuse the power of fame and sell out!” Then, he runs off, leaving alone as the barista while he does whatever Eiko does on a busy Tuesday morning after a villain attack.
Just like that, everyone starts crowding around the hero, hearts, and stars in their eyes. They stare at him as if he’s made of gold. You’ve stared at someone like that before.
“ OMG! It’s Hawks!”
“Can I get a picture, please? I want to show my classmates!”
“Sign my forehead, please, Hawks!”
“He’s so cool! His wings look even better in real life!”
“Why are you here, Hawks? Were you sponsored?”
Ah. So he’s that kind of famous, huh?
Hawks laughs, eyes curled up in half-moons naturally as his hand scratches the nape of his neck. Wow, did everyone just start swooning? “It’s just coincidence, though I could use a cup of coffee to wake me up! So, if you don’t mind, I can sign your forehead later—”
While you were too busy gaping at the No. 2 Hero ( why the hell is he ranked so high? ), you didn’t even realize he started making his way over to you, chatting it up with your potential customers.
It’s only when his eyes meet yours that you snap out of it, left blinking up at him helplessly—a deer in headlights or something along those lines. Your brain starts whispering a helpful mantra of wait, wait, shit, shit when he smiles at you.
“Hello there,” he greets, and, like an idiot, you can’t bring yourself to respond to him, too busy being shocked with the fact that he’s literally Keigo .
Your Keigo.
“W-Welcome,” you murmur shyly, your smile coming off more awkward than his. You can’t bring yourself to speak any louder than that, too afraid in case your voice wavers, choking on the memories flooding back at you.
( He might think you’re weird. )
There’s a small moment of you catching the way his smile drops a fraction as his eyes narrow, but it was so fast that you would’ve convinced yourself you had only imagined it. Hawks— No, Keigo does that, too. He does it when he’s figured something out.
What did he figure out?
You’ve also figured something out.
He looks exactly like him. There’s no way he’s someone else, unless someone made the valiant decision of making sure the past that you want to forget haunts you again on such a typical day.
It’s no lie that he grew into his features, his round face now a sharp jaw and sharper eyes, paired with the bright smile that feels so fake—all of it, so familiar, that you’re starting to think you’ve never seen him before. That he was just something you made up in your head.
Does he remember you? At all?
He hums, oblivious to the hushed whispers of the girls and men nearby, all fawning over him. It must be pretty rare for heroes to hang out in public spaces like this if everyone’s acting like a man starving for a piece of that—
Did he even know what happened to you when he left so suddenly?
Hawks looks at you with a patient smile, head cocked to the side. Your heart drops to your stomach.
“Right— right, of course,” you stammer, hands trembling as you write his order down. “It’s coming right up.”
“ Ooh ,” you’re surprised when Hawks keeps on talking, “do I get a discount for saving your little cafe?” He grins, leaning on the cold surface with his jaw pressed against the heel of his palm; his eyes twinkle, and your heart flutters without warning.
Forcing a frown, you try for a laugh, “Sorry, but I don’t think that’s—”
“Oh! Hawks! ”
You almost jump out of your skin when a taller body slings an arm over your shoulder. When you look up, it’s Eiko, grinning at Hawks as if the hero is built out of pure gold and high paychecks—he looks like a madman— no, actually, he is a madman.
“E-Eiko-kun—”
Eiko claps his hand, forcing yours and his body to collide against each other roughly.
Hawks’ eyes darken for a moment again, but the smile stays on his face. You can’t believe no one else is seeing those expressions, but then again, no one else focuses on the micro-expressions of someone.
“That’s me!” Hawks exclaims.
“Yes, you have a discount,” Eiko laughs, literally vibrating from excitement. “Thank you for saving our lives back there! My life flashed before my eyes, man….”
You glare at Eiko. He was complaining about the attack like there was a Karen in the line. Eiko pointedly ignores your silent accusation, moving to shake Hawks’ gloved hand like a proud dad.
Hawks’ smile turns sour when you turn away to escape the clutches of your friend, but you had missed it.
Eiko goes on and on about how Hawks should really come to visit often as he’s always welcomed here with open arms—you’re not sure if he actually means that or if it’s only because you’ve gotten so many customers you’ve ever had before.
It’s only then you realize that there are so many orders piling up when Eiko has been skating around collecting it that no one else is there to prepare everything, but you, which meant Eiko interrupted your conversation with Hawks on purpose. Whether or not it’s for your own good, you’re not sure.
Your brain is already too fried to complain about the mountain-load of coffee orders. So, quietly ( hopefully no one complains about it ), you prioritize Hawks’. The faster you finish it, the sooner he leaves.
“Ah,” you hear Hawks say distantly, “Can I have Y/N serve mine?”
You almost drop the cup to the ground.
You hope that the feeling of eyes burning into your soul isn’t from Hawks, but again, you’re not exactly the luckiest person.
“Oh?” Eiko coos, sending you an amused glance. “Bias already. Have you been here before, hero?”
You see Hawks shrug from the corner of your eye. “You could say that, Eiko-kun.”
Eiko seems to get the hint, tapping your shoulder once as a silent way of saying, I’ll take over here . Then, he gently nudges you forward towards Hawks, almost making you spill his drink.
“Here you go!” You all but shove it into his hands, smiling so broad that it’s so obvious it’s fake.
Hawks smiles warmly. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
Then, he takes a glance to the side, before quickly grabbing your wrist and pulling you to him until you hit his chest. His chest! Your eyes widen in alarm, looking to the left where anyone else could’ve seen this scandalous scene, but Hawks’ wing covers the both of you entirely, shielded from view.
When you turn back to him, he’s already grinning at you, as if a man on a mission.
“Let’s get out of here while they’re still busy, yeah?” he whispers, his breath fanning your ear, blooming a dark flush out of your skin.
This is bad .
Just because he’s hot now does not mean you should still have feelings for your ( ex? ) best friend.
“Wait, I can’t just—”
Hawks lifts you bridal style and zooms away, leaving you to do nothing else but to scream and hold onto him tightly.
“WHAT THE FU —”
Hawks laughs loudly, swirling around mid-air. “Don’t act like we haven’t done this before!” You screw your eyes shut, too afraid to open it; it’d be embarrassing if you piss your pants while in the arms of the No. 2 Pro Hero.
“I feel so free up here,” he mutters, looking ahead. “Isn’t that cool?”
You can’t help but open your eyes, staring at him in astonishment. “Keigo…” you trail off, lost in the way his eyes glimmer with joy.
He dives down, all of a sudden, cutting off whatever you were going to say. He sure is determined to give you a heart attack every minute you’re around because you sure as hell aren’t getting a break.
And just like that, he carries you to a secluded area—in the back corner of an abandoned building, the paint chipping away along with your pride as you stare at Hawks. It would’ve looked bad had it been anyone else with you.
When Hawks sets you down, you finally breathe out. Heart racing, cheeks cherry red, and eyes untamed, Hawks drags you into a hug. It’s tight, but you’ve already been breathless before this.
“ Fuck ,” he says, trembling, “I missed you.”
You frown, patting the back of his head. “You left me.”
Hawks huffs, pulling away just to get a better look at your face. “I didn’t,” he says, shaking his head. “I would never; you know that.”
Well, you didn’t really expect to be tearing up on a Tuesday morning, but at this point, there are too many questions forming in your head to even get to that.
“I missed you, too,” you tell him.
“Call me by my name again,” he pleads softly, cupping your cheeks. “Please.”
It’s sweet. It’s fragile.
It’s love, isn’t it?
“We have a lot to catch up on,” you muse as he snuggles closer to you, “don’t we, Keigo?”
“Speaking of, you and that Eiko guy….”
“We’re just friends, idiot. You’re still the number one in my heart.”
“Stop saying that before I kiss you.”
“Wh—”