Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“You’ve got Hawks,” Keigo answers his phone. “What’s up?” He shrugs in response to his husband’s confused expression.

“Hello, Hawks,” a polite woman greets on the other end of the call. “I’m calling to inform you of your new hero ranking. Congratulations, you are the new number one hero.” He barely hears her as she lists off his approval ratings, contributions to society, and recent acts of heroism. Keigo knew that the hero rankings were going to be published soon, but he had expected for his rank to go down not up.

Interrupting her spiel about the upcoming public announcement, he says, “I’m sorry. Is it possible to get all of this in an email? I’m a little busy.”

“Of course,” she confirms. “All of this information has been emailed to you. Apologies for the interruption. Have a lovely day.” She hangs up immediately, moving on to the next hero.

After a moment of watching the winged hero stare at his phone, Touya finally asks, “What was that about?”

“My rank went up.”

“You make it sound like someone died,” Aizawa states from the other side of the faculty lounge. “You’re number one. Congratulations.”

The sound of a warning siren emanating from Touya’s phone draws the attention of the few staff members present. The scarred man rolls his eyes as he proceeds to ignore the call. After a few moments the god-awful sound stops, only to start again a few seconds later. This time, he declines the call. When it sounds a third time, the annoyed pyro shuts the phone off entirely. Then the same sound starts playing from Keigo’s phone.

“He doesn’t want to talk to you,” the winged hero says the second he puts the phone to his ear. “And we’re at work. Call back after school hours.”

Before he can end the call, Endeavor exclaims, “Wait a second!”

“What?”

“I wanted to congratulate you on making number one,” the elder hero begrudgingly states.

“Aw, that must’ve hurt to say,” Keigo teases. “Tell me, are you actually happy for me or did Rei tell you to be nice? Because I distinctly remember you calling me a ‘little brat’ after the last rankings came out.”

“You little-”

“Give me the phone,” Rei demands before taking the phone from her husband. “Hi, honey. Ignore him, he’s just bitter. You know how emotional you heroes can get over your rankings.”

“That’s a huge understatement,” he laughs.

“Oh, before I forget. I was going through some old boxes and found some things from when Touya was a baby. If you’d like, I can bring it by when I come visit the boys on Sunday.”

“That would be nice. Thank you.”

“No problem. Well, I should go before Enji tries to melt the phone. Tell Touya I said hi. Love you both.”

“Love you too. See you Sunday.” When his mother-in-law ends the call, he turns to his confused husband. “Rei says hi and she has baby stuff. She’s bringing it by on Sunday.” Glancing to the clock on his phone, he adds, “And I need to get going. Somebody,” he pointedly looks to Aizawa, “talked me into supervising after school detention this week.”

“I figured you’d want to supervise your own son,” the underground hero argues. “I take over detention when Shinso gets in trouble.”

Sighing as he turns towards the door, he calls over his shoulder, “Sometimes I hate when you have a point.”

After school detention is held on the opposite end of the school from the faculty lounge. Eight months ago, Keigo could’ve covered that distance in less than three minutes. Now, with an awkward center of gravity and swollen ankles, it takes him almost ten minutes to make the journey.

He arrives just after the students he’s to be supervising. Mineta, who’s been in detention since an incident early in his first year, goes straight to the computer station in the corner and gets to work. Midnight should be arriving to watch him soon, so Keigo’s not too worried about him. The other two, however, are entirely his responsibility.

Fumikage and Monoma are instructed to take the seats in front of the teacher’s desk at the front of the room. The two look like they ran head first into several brick walls and were told to patch themselves up, as is Recovery Girl’s policy for participants of fights outside of training. The two are silent as Keigo reads over the report. Sure enough, they are in detention for a fist fight in the hall just after lunch.

“Dark Shadow,” Keigo calls. Since quirks weren’t used in the fight and Dark Shadow hasn’t lied to him in the past, he feels they are the best bet to get more, slightly unbiased, information. He puts on a comforting smile when the anxious shadow creature hides behind their master. “I’m not mad at you, sweetheart. Can you come here for a second?” With a reassuring nod from Fumikage, Dark Shadow floats over to Keigo. “Aizawa wasn’t very elaborate in this report. Do you think you can help me understand what happened?”

The quirk glares over their shoulder at Monoma as they explain, “Monoma was being a bully. He made Aoyama cry.” The venom leaves their voice when they turn back to Keigo. “We don’t like when Aoyama cries. He’s too sweet to cry. We like seeing him smile.”

“I know.” Turning to his son, he adds, “You know you can’t start fights just because someone made your boyfriend cry, right?”

“But this has been going on for months!” Fumikage snaps. “That jackass won’t let up! We’ve tried telling Aizawa and Vlad King and All Might. Nobody’s been able to get him to stop. Would you rather I have involved Toga?! She would probably have killed him, then nobody would have to deal with him and his bullying.”

Only slightly shocked by his son’s outburst and thinly veiled threat, Keigo asks, “Feel better?”

“NO! What if he had been picking on Tomura? Would you still be mad at me for fighting if I was defending my brother instead of my boyfriend?!”

“To be clear,” Keigo sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I’m not mad at you for defending Aoyama. I am disappointed in you for fighting instead of coming to me or Touya.” He thinks for a second on what he just suggested. “Actually, Touya would probably have held him down. Just come to me if you’re having issues with other students in the future. Monoma,” the blonde looks up from the homework he had started working on. “You have got to stop picking on 2-A students. Be glad it was just Fumikage fighting you this time. Next time it could be Izuku or Bakugo or Shoto. I guarantee you’ll come out of any one of those fights with more than just some bad bruises. And God forbid you piss off Tomura.” The cocky teen pales at the unspoken threat. “2-B is full of impressive future heroes, but 2-A is full of heavy hitters with very little patients left. Please, before you pick a fight with the wrong kid and get sent to the hospital, stop screwing with them. Can you do that?”

“What I’m hearing is that 2-A is a class full of loose cannons,” Monoma states.

“They’re not loose cannons; they’re battle tested and tired of your shit. I suggest you learn the difference sooner rather than later. You two have two hours in here. Use your time wisely. And no fighting.”

Midnight giggles from the doorway. As she checks on her student, Keigo logs into the computer to check his emails. There are a few reports from his sidekicks, a confirmation for an ultrasound appointment, and the email from the ranking committee.

“Welcome to detention,” Nemuri says, putting a to-go cup in front of him. “Vanilla chai?”

“Thanks.”

“A little kitty told me that you aren’t too thrilled about your new rank. Top spot not your style?” she inquires, leaning against the desk beside her colleague.

Keigo hums, opening the email. “It’s not that. It’s just that I expected my rank to go down since I haven’t exactly done much.”

“Your approval rating could be carrying you. It’s pretty normal for a young hero’s public approval to skyrocket when they get married or start having kids and you’ve done both.” Noticing a carefully hidden grimace on his face she adds, “Speaking of kids, how are the girls doing?”

“One of them’s just chilling out. The other one is using my kidney as a punching bag.”

She hides a chuckle behind a sip of her latte. “You see, that is why I never had kids.”

“You get used to it,” he assures, opening the attachment with his stats. “My approval rating barely went up. Maybe Enji’s just went d-what the hell?”

A hero’s accomplishments are calculated by giving a numerical value to how impactful they are on society. Something small, like stopping a petty crime in progress, will get a score of one. The ratings go all the way up to one hundred. Usually, a score of one hundred is only given when a major villain is taken off the streets by any means. The more dangerous the villain, the more likely the hero is to be granted that high score.

The second page of the document, the one with his contributions to society, is almost completely full of the names of the members of the League that had quit being villains. Keigo feels a strange mix of annoyance and anger bubble up. Every member is listed as rehabilitated, which adds a fifty-point bonus to the score per villain. Touya, Tomura, and Himiko - having been top ten villains with doubled scores - have a score of three hundred by their names.

All Keigo did was help the people who helped and cared for him. He doesn’t feel he deserves praise like this for his work with the League. “This can’t be right.”

“Morally, it’s not,” Midnight confirms as she reads over his shoulder. “But that’s the thing about hero society. There’s a lot that goes on behind the scenes that would make the average person reject heroes as a concept entirely.”

“You don’t have to tell me; I have the scars,” he reminds in a hushed tone.

When the pheromone producing hero places a comforting hand on his shoulder, he flinches but looks up at her with thankful eyes. When he started working at UA, Aizawa had suggested he inform the staff of his history and triggers. The idea of telling everyone became a source of anxiety for him, so he decided to talk to All Might and Nezu about it instead. The two of them spread the word to the rest of the staff. Since then, he’s noticed some of his coworkers become more protective of him, especially Midnight and Present Mic.

A particularly harsh kick pulls him from his thoughts. “Rude,” he mumbles, rubbing his belly in a futile attempt to calm whichever twin just kicked him. A concerned caw lets him know his son is paying more attention to him than to his homework. Chirping back seems to be enough reassurance for the teen as he turns back to the math textbook in front of him. Turning back to an amused Nemuri, he asks, “Is there anything I can do about this?”

“You can send in a formal complaint, but I don’t know how much good that would do. Ryukyu tried last year because she felt she didn’t deserve her new rank. Needless to say, that didn’t work. But you can still try.”

Chapter Text

Keigo’s attempts to have his rank revised have been fruitless. His emails have gone unanswered. When he called, the man that answered had told him that hero rankings are final, but his complaint will be filed. He doesn’t want his complaint to be filed or taken into future consideration or simply ignored; he wants someone to fix his rank. The blonde’s head meets the desk with a loud bang as he hangs up the phone, interrupting the woman reminding him about the upcoming Hero Billboard Chart.

“Everything okay?” Toshinori asks, concern weighing heavy on his voice.

“No,” he groans into the table. “The commission sucks. The ranking committee is full of idiots. And society as a whole is fucked if these are the kinds of people running it.” He takes a deep breath before finally looking up. “I’m sorry, that was mean,” he apologizes to the retired hero. “I’m just frustrated.”

Chuckling in understanding, the former number one assures, “I was the Symbol of Peace for longer than you’ve been alive. I understand more than most. Would you like to talk about it?”

Keigo nods, following his colleague to his office so they can talk in private. “Where do I start?” he sighs as he takes a seat on the plush couch with Toshinori.

“How about you start with what upsets you the most at the moment and we’ll go from there.”

“They labeled Tomura and Himiko as reformed villains and gave me credit for it. Touya, I can sort of understand, but those two are too young to be labeled as villains in the first place.” A soft hum from the elder blonde prompts him to elaborate. “Tomura was a kidnapping and abuse victim. Himiko needed psychological help and guidance from someone who understands her quirk. Neither of them should have been put in a position where they were labeled as villains.”

“But they were. It’s not okay, but we can’t do anything about it now. You got credit for their reform because you gave them a way out of that life. Whether you think so or not, Keigo, you saved them. And, in a way, they saved you too.” Guilt and sadness dull the winged hero’s gold eyes. “Is that why you don’t want credit?”

Keigo nods again. “I wasn’t acting as a hero when I helped them. The members of the League are my friends and family. It was selfish of me to get them immunity for their crimes.”

“Sometimes heroes act selfishly. It doesn’t mean their actions are any less heroic.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Think about it. Do you honestly think Tomura, Touya, and Himiko would still be alive now if you hadn’t have stepped in?”

Keigo never thought about what would’ve happened to his family and their friends had he not stepped in. The potential outcomes scare him. Tomura would’ve been forced to become a Nomu. Or his eyas would have eventually succeeded at killing himself. Touya would have confronted his father or gotten into a fight with another hero. He can’t think of a positive outcome; he’d either die fighting, or he’d kill a hero and be executed. Himiko is smart. She wouldn’t have been caught, but she didn’t test the blood that she drank when she was a villain. Even now that all of the blood she’s given is clean, he worries about her getting sick from it. There are so many bloodborne illnesses that she’ll never be truly safe using her quirk. There is no doubt in his mind that she would have eventually died from one such ailment if she continued drinking strangers’ blood.

“No,” he softly confesses. “On their own, they would’ve all died one way or another. But that’s not the point. The point is that they helped me way more than I helped them.”

“How so?”

“All I gave them was a choice. They gave me a reason to keep living.” Shock shines in Toshinori’s blue eyes. “Before I was given the assignment to spy on the League, I wanted to die. I was constantly scared of messing up or doing something my handler didn’t approve of. And there wasn’t a waking second where I wasn’t in pain. Touya saved me when we met in that bar. He gave me an in with the League that the Commission exploited.”

Confused, Toshinori asks, “I thought you two met at the League’s hideout.”

“Nope,” Keigo denies, shaking his head as he nervously preens his feathers. He had never told anybody the full story of how he met his husband. Like All Might, everyone thought the bar he mentioned was the one the League met in. He and Touya never bothered to correct them. “We met in a bar a few days after the whole thing with Stain. I’d had a bad day and just wanted to get so drunk I felt numb. Touya was a saké fueled one-night-stand that turned into two nights, then a week. Before we knew it, we were each other’s escape from the world. It didn’t matter how many times my handler punished me for missing curfew, I kept going back to him as often as I could. It took Kamiko a month to catch on, but when she did, she gave me a choice. I could either use my relationship with Touya to spy on the League, or she,” he takes a calming breath, swallowing down the lump that had formed in his throat at the thought of his former handler, “or she was going to cut off my wings again and leave me in the dark room until they grew back.” He can’t look Toshinori in the eye as he explains, “At the time, the thought of Touya’s eyes and knowing that Fumikage would’ve been sent back to foster care were the only two things keeping me from trying to kill myself.”

“You already had Tokoyami and Kamiko still made you spy?” the retired hero asks, disbelief pulling his jaw towards the floor in a shocked expression. His successor can only manage a small nod as he keeps his eyes on the bright red feathers clutched delicately in his shaking hands. The pain of the slight tug grounds Keigo enough to not start crying. “I’m sorry any of this happened to you.”

“Don’t apologize. You didn’t know. Not many people outside of the program knew.”

“Did Touya know?”

Chuckling at the memory that question summons, Keigo says, “He wanted to burn the Commission building to the ground when I told him. They all did. None of the league liked that I was being hurt by the good guys. They went out of their way to make me feel safe whenever I was with them. Even Himiko’s threats were hollow.”

“I think I see what you meant when you called the League your family. They were the first people you’ve met who didn’t hurt you.”

“I’m glad someone sees it. Not even Enji understands and one of them is his actual kid. He just acts like the last decade never happened.”

“Endeavor has never been the most understanding man, especially when it comes to his own faults and the consequences of his actions. If you would like, I can talk to him.”

“I might have to take you up on that if he keeps dodging Touya’s therapist. He’s been invited to so many appointments.”

“And he’s refusing to go?”

Nodding, Keigo says, “Yeah, it’s gotten to the point where Touya won’t let him see the kids until he meets Sora.”

“I bet that’s gotten under his skin,” Toshinori laughs as an alarm goes off on Keigo’s phone. “Detention?”

“It’s their last day. Hopefully they’ve learned from their actions and none of us have to do this again.”

Bidding Toshinori good-bye, Keigo makes his way to the detention room. Like every day this past week, his students arrive before him. In that short time, the two began fighting. This time, Tomura, whom had just been trying to get a spare textbook for one of the freshmen he was tutoring, was trying to break up the fight. He had pushed a desk between the two and was doing his best to restrain his brother.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Midnight echoes Keigo’s thought from behind him in the doorway.

Glaring at the two, Keigo asks, “You two couldn’t wait one more day, could you?” When the three start talking over each other to explain what happened, he holds up a hand to silence them. “Monoma. Fumikage. Take a seat.” The annoyed tone in the hero’s voice is just intimidating enough that neither argued. “Tomura, what happened?”

“Monoma started calling me insulting names, but I was ignoring him. Then he started joking about my scars,” he explains, subconsciously crossing his arms in an attempt to hide the lines marring them.

“And Fumi snapped.”

“Sort of, yeah.”

Putting Midnight in charge, Keigo leads Tomura out of the room. “Are you okay?” he asks when the door shuts behind them.

Sadness clouds his child’s downturned eyes. “They’re just words.”

“That’s not what I asked, Eyas. Words can hurt as much as a hit. Are you okay?” Keigo repeats, tilting his Eyas’ chin up so the boy has to look at him.

“No, but I don’t want to talk about it right now. Is it okay if we talk later?”

“Of course,” he assures, kissing his son’s forehead. “Come get me when you’re ready to talk. Okay?” When Tomura nods, he calls Fumikage out into the hall. “You’re still in trouble for fighting,” Keigo states. “But right now I need you to take your brother back to his study group and come back here.”

“Yes, sir,” Fumikage answers.

Keigo watches his sons as they make their way down the hall and around the corner. He takes a moment to collect his thoughts before returning to the classroom. When Monoma tries to start arguing that he’s innocent in this fight, Keigo silences him with the same glare that he used to stare down All for One a little less than a year prior.

Taking a seat at the teacher’s desk, Keigo logs into the computer. He puts a note in Monoma and Fumikage’s student files about their latest fight. Then he retrieves the first aid kit from the cabinet behind the desk. Monoma’s face has a few scratches, his arm is bleeding, and he’s holding his stomach where he got hit with the desk. There are also a few clumps of black feathers scattered across the floor.

“I thought we talked about this?” Keigo asks as he pulls a chair over to sit beside Monoma. The blonde just glares at his desk. “Look at me,” he instructs. Dabbing blood from the scratches on the teen’s face, he says, “You need to learn how to pick your battles.”

“No, that freak needs to learn not to bite people!”

“Don’t call him a freak. You clearly know nothing of birds.” Gesturing to Monoma’s arm, he explains, “That’s a peck, not a bite. If he had bitten you, your arm would be broken. And I’d say he’s justified considering how many of his feathers you pulled out. Do you know what that feels like?” Monoma shakes his head. “It feels like ripping out a fistful of hair for each feather. How would you like it if someone did that to you?”

“I wouldn’t like that very much.”

Placing a band-aid on the disinfected scratches on the boy’s cheek, Keigo moves on to his arm. “No, you wouldn’t. Fumikage doesn’t like it either.”

“That doesn’t give him the right to bite me.”

He nods as he wraps a bandage around his arm. “Maybe. But you didn’t have any right to make fun of Tomura’s scars either.”

Monoma scoffs. “If he didn’t want attention, he shouldn’t have cut.”

“He didn’t do it for attention, and I don’t have to keep helping you. Please watch how you talk about my kids.”

“He’s not even really your kid. Neither of them are.”

Monoma’s eyes go wide when he notices the look in Keigo’s teary eyes, like someone had just slapped him. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but now he can’t take it back. “I know that you’re wrong and that you’re just saying hurtful things because you’re upset and in pain, but that was beyond uncalled for.” Turning to Midnight, he asks, “Can you watch him?”

With confirmation that the r-rated hero will keep an eye on his student, Keigo storms out of the room before he did something he would regret. He starts down the hall just as Fumikage turns onto it. He doesn’t argue when he’s told to follow. He doesn’t question where they’re going or why they’re in the faculty lounge when they get there. Fortunately, the people he wants to talk to are still there.

“Vlad, Aizawa, can I talk to you two?” The two are confused but follow their coworker to Nezu’s office. “Nezu, can I talk to you as well?”

“Of course,” the principal says. “What seems to be the issue?”

Keigo waits until Aizawa had closed the door behind him and Vlad before asking, “Are you two aware of how much of a bully Monoma is?”

“He’s a bit enthusiastic about the rivalry between our classes,” Vlad King explains. “But he’s harmless.”

Aizawa scoffs. “That boy has been terrorizing my class since he met them. There’s always been a rivalry between A and B, but Monoma takes it too far.”

Before Vlad can respond, Keigo speaks up. “I’m not talking about the rivalry. I’m talking about how he kept picking on Aoyama about his quirk until he cried on Monday. And today, less than an hour ago, he joked about Tomura’s scars and called him an attention seeker for it. Last time I checked, that’s bullying.”

Nezu nods, “You’re correct. That is bullying.”

“Please tell me Tomura wasn’t in the room to hear that.” Keigo nods. “Where is he?”

“Fumikage took him back to his study group.”

As Aizawa turns to leave, Vlad asks where he’s going. “I’m going to check on my student. I suggest you teach yours how to keep his mouth shut and make damn sure Toga never hears about what he said.”

Aside from the slamming door, the office is silent. Eventually, Nezu says, “Vlad, please have a conversation with your class about bullying. Monoma will be on house arrest for the next two weeks. Please assign him extra chores to do in that time.” Turning to Keigo, he says, “If memory serves, the Hero Billboard Chart is being presented tomorrow evening.”

“Unfortunately,” Keigo sighs.

Smiling that mischievous smile Principal Nezu is so fond of wearing, he says, “Maybe you should go get some rest, then tell them exactly what you think.”

Chapter Text

Curled up on the bed in he and Touya’s dorm, Keigo sips his tea contemplating what he’s going to say at that night’s Hero Billboard Chart presentation. Nezu told him to speak his mind. Telling all of Japan exactly how screwed up the whole situation is was a very tempting option, but he didn’t want to bring more attention than necessary to his children. Neither boy was comfortable with the press, nor were they in the right state of mind to deal with the camera wielding vultures.

Lost in his thoughts, Keigo hadn’t noticed his husband approach. “Hey, pretty bird,” Touya greets. “What are you thinking about?”

“Just deciding what to say tonight,” he sighs, shifting to lean against his pyro. “Maybe I just shouldn’t log in. Their number one not attending should send a decently loud message. Right?”

Touya hums. “I don’t think so. At least, it wouldn’t be the message you want to send.” Keigo chirps in confusion. “The twins are due in a few weeks. If you don’t show up, they’ll assume its baby related. Not that you’re pissed off.”

“What would you do?”

Touya laughs and kisses his temple. “What I would do would get you in trouble.”

“Scorched Earth, got it.”

“Don’t do that. One of us needs to be a good example.” There’s a long pause before Touya asks, “Why not just tell them why you’re upset? Isn’t that what Nezu suggested?”

Finishing off his tea, Keigo explains, “Because that would put the spotlight back on the kids. The press just stopped focusing on Tomura. It wouldn’t be fair to them.”

“Maybe you should let them be the judge of that.”

“Maybe.” They’re quiet for a long while, peacefully listening to the birds chirping just outside the open window. Keigo’s mind wonders as the girls start reminding him that one has her head against his liver, the other once again pretending to play kickball. “You know we’ve still only named one twin.”

“How about Kaya?” Touya asks, a hint of nerves pulling at his voice.

Keigo’s quiet for a moment, trying to think of where he’s heard that name before. “That was in your top three. You never did tell me the story behind it.”

Touya hesitates for a moment, staring out the window, before explaining, “When mom was pregnant with Shoto we thought she was having twins and we knew that they were joined at the shoulder. We thought that the worst that could happen was that they would need surgery to be separated when they were born. But one twin just kept getting smaller and smaller until one day mom went in for an ultrasound and there was only one baby.”

“Was the other twin supposed to be named Kaya?”

Nodding, he confirms, “If it was a girl, yeah. Fuyumi picked it out. The way she wanted to spell it meant ‘summer night’.”

“Seems appropriate for a June baby. I like it.” Looking down to his belly, he says, “Hello, Rei and Kaya. We can’t wait to meet you two.”

A few hours later, the pair were greeting Rei and Fuyumi at the 2-A dorms. Rei got permission from Nezu to visit every Sunday. Fuyumi has a meeting later in the afternoon with the principal, Toshinori, and Touya about her fifth graders taking a field trip to UA. It’s a new program the retired hero suggested after Katsuki and Shoto got their provisional licenses last year. After seeing how that one class reacted to interacting with heroes in training, he got the idea to bring in one elementary class a term and show them what it’s like to be in a hero course. The first class that got selected from a random lottery for the program is Fuyumi’s.

As promised, Rei had arrived carrying a box. Along with baby supplies, she brought photo albums that she was excited to share. As Touya and his siblings go through the box they reminisce about their childhood, back before Enji’s abuse had peaked and he had isolated Touya and Shoto from Natsuo and Fuyumi. On the other couch, Rei shows off pictures of her babies to Keigo and Tomura.

“Wait, Touya’s hair is red?” Tomura asks, shocked at the revelation.

“Burn it!” Touya snaps at the mention of his natural hair color. “My hair is and will always be black.”

“You were cute with red hair,” Keigo teases, earning a cold glare from his husband. “What’ll you do if one of the girls has red hair?”

“No.”

“That’s not an answer,” Shoto argues.

In an attempt to diffuse the brewing argument, Rei changes the subject. “The Hero Billboard Chart is this evening. Have you decided on what to say?”

“Not really,” Keigo shakes his head. “I’ve been advised to tell them exactly what I think, but I don’t like how that would blow back on the kids. And Touya said that just boycotting the whole event wouldn’t send the right message.”

Confused, Tomura asks, “How would it blow back on us?”

Keigo tries to put into words what’s bothering him, but for some reason he can’t explain it to his eyas. The boy doesn’t like talking about when he was a villain, and he’d made so much progress over the past few months that it feels wrong to mention that time in his life. Eventually he gives up on explaining it himself.

He looks to Touya and chirps once, prompting him to explain, “The ranking committee labeled the members of the League as ‘reformed former villains’-”

“Which we are,” Tomura confirms, confusion clear in his eyes.

“-And they gave Keigo the credit.”

Confusion morphs into understanding almost instantly. Tomura knows about where Keigo’s head was before he met Touya, it’s one of the things they bonded over. It’s no secret to him how much the League helped his dad and how much he didn’t think of his actions as heroic. The winged man spent months trying to get Tomura to understand that he actually loved him, and that he wasn’t just helping him because it was his job as a hero. He can only imagine how much it must hurt his father to know that the rest of the world didn’t share his views.

Resting his head on Keigo’s shoulder, Tomura says, “They still see us as villains, but you always saw us as victims of a broken system. I think you should show everyone how broken the system is and make them see us the way you see us.”

“Are you sure? What if my actions brings the attention back to you?”

Tomura shrugs, “It’s better than the commission using your rank to hurt you.”

Keigo looks from his son to his husband. “Your input?”

“You can expose the system without burning it to the ground. You’re supposed to be the good guy,” Touya reminds.

“Yeah, well the good guy’s tired and pissed off. And it’s not like I’m actually going to commit arson; I’m just going to declassify a few documents and some security footage.”

“Are we talking about the documents keeping the boys safe?”

“There are things the commission has done that you don’t know about. Don’t forget, I was their property for sixteen years. A few documents is a drop in the bucket compared to what I can hold over Kamiko’s head if she ever tries anything. The commission was as bad as All for One, they just did a better job of hiding their particular flavor of evil.”

A cold hand on his shoulder reminds him that he and Touya aren’t alone and draws his attention to the tears racing down his cheeks. He never hid his history from his in-laws, but they were never told the full extent of his past. Not even Tomura and Touya know the full story despite how much he’s already told them.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, looking down to his shaking hands. “That was uncalled for.”

“It’s okay,” Tomura and Touya assure in unison.

“N-no it’s not,” Keigo studders, fear clouding his mind. He knows he’s safe, but he messed up. He doesn’t usually mess up, not this badly. “I shouldn’t ha-have said that.”

Before his family can again assure him that it really is okay, he gets up and makes a beeline for the door. It feels like the walls are closing in around him despite the open concept of the 2-A common area. He needs to be out in the open, somewhere without walls. Somewhere he can fly.

I messed up so bad.

His mind is screaming at him to leave. To fly away and never look back.

Why did I say that?!

His chest feels tight as he bursts through the door and takes to the sky. He flies up so high that nobody can see his tears. He flies high enough that the wind drowns out his screams.

Tomura was right there. WHY DID I SAY THAT?!

He can’t hear his phone ringing. The wind is too loud this high up. It’s all he can hear. All he can feel.

Fall.

The idea scares him enough that the sky seems to go quiet.

You always mess up so just fall.

Touya and the kids would miss me.

So?

The twins wouldn’t make it.

A small kick pulls him from his thoughts. Another chases away the intrusive voice in his head. Then he hears Touya’s voice through his feather.

‘Come down from there, pretty bird. Please. You’re scaring me.’

Looking down, Keigo barely sees his husband standing on the roof of the 2-A dorms. Toshinori and Hizashi are with him. His wings grow tired as the adrenaline leaves his body. Then it dawns on him that he has no idea how long he was in the sky fighting with his own mind and flashbacks to the punishments Kamiko would put him through.

The second his feet hit the roof, Touya pulls him into a tight embrace. The pyro is shaking. “Never do that again,” he quietly demands. “I don’t care how scared you are, you answer that damn phone. Please.” When Keigo nods, he asks, “Are you okay? You were up there for a long time.”

“How long?”

“Almost half an hour.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Please stop apologizing. It’s okay,” Touya assures, pulling away just far enough to kiss his husband’s forehead. “I need to know that you’re okay.”

“I think so.”

“Do you know what triggered you?” Hizashi asks, hesitantly taking a step closer.

Keigo thinks for a moment before saying, “I messed up. I said something that I shouldn’t have, and my stupid mind started trying to figure out how I would be punished for messing up so badly.”

“Almost two decades of trauma will do that,” Toshinori says. “But you’re safe here and nobody’s going to hurt you.”

“I don’t think Touya would let anyone get close enough to hurt you,” Hizashi adds, the protective pyro nodding his agreement.

Keigo seems to relax for a moment before a look of dread rises on his face, “Is Tomura okay?”

“He’s fine. Mom’s got him distracted with those damn photo albums.” He can see the guilt clear in his husband’s gold eyes as he tries to decide whether or not he should go apologize to their son. “How about you go back to our room and relax for a little while? I’ll go check on Tomura, then I’ll come hang out with you. Okay?” When he doesn’t get a response, Touya says, “Keigo, baby, look at me.” After a moment, gold meets blue and he quietly continues. “Tomura’s not mad at you. He knows you better than you give him credit for. He’s worried. Please go chill out for a bit.”

As he nods his agreement, Hizashi notices his hands are still shaking. “Is it okay if I come with you?” he asks. “I don’t know how your panic attacks usually go, but Shota can’t be left alone after an attack. It doesn’t feel right to treat you any different.”

Chapter Text

It takes an hour for his hands to stop shaking. The whole time Hizashi sat with him and talked him through a few grounding techniques and breathing exercises. He put on some music to help distract Keigo from the intrusive thoughts still plaguing his mind, telling him to hurt himself. They talk about their kids and some gossip Hizashi had picked up from Denki. Apparently, Sero’s tattooing his classmates and Mina’s trying to teach Izuku how to breakdance.

The voice hero has his friend laughing by the time Touya arrives, their oldest following close behind. Tomura didn’t want to wait to check on his dad. He wordlessly curls up against Keigo’s side where he’s promptly wrapped in his father’s wing. Touya sits at the desk across the room from the bed and opens his laptop.

After a few minutes, he calls over his shoulder, “Hey, do you know the password to Kamiko’s email account?”

On his screen, is a login page for an email account. In the address box is the email of the commission president. “0153 dash Hawks, all caps,” Keigo responds, confused. “What are you doing?”

“Checking the bitch’s email.”

“Why?” Touya doesn’t respond. He just searches through the hundreds of emails. Eventually, he finds a chain between Kamiko and the head of the ranking committee. “Touya?”

The emails are a back and forth of Kamiko demanding the members of the league be labeled as former villains. The committee head argued back about the court order granting immunity to the league. They’ve all found ways to stay on the legal side of society, so their immunity stands. Legally, none of them should have been labeled as villains.

When he comes across the email where the committee head explains how being labeled as a former villain would impact Tomura and Himiko’s future as heroes, the pyro sees red. The two would never have the option to open their own agencies in the future. They wouldn’t be able to work on their own. Most pros wouldn’t allow them to work as sidekicks under them after they graduate next year. Kamiko’s response was a threat.

Infuriated, Touya opens a new tab in the browser and logs into the blackmail account he and Keigo had been maintaining. He adds the screenshots to the private account and types up a quick description. He practically slams the laptop shut, making Tomura flinch, after closing the browser. He’s so angry, his breath comes in puffs of steam.

“Hey,” Keigo catches his husband’s attention, “What’s up? You’re steaming.”

Too angry to properly explain, Touya says, “Just check the page.”

He watches as Keigo’s confusion morphs into rage. Beside him, Tomura had read the emails on Keigo’s phone. He curls closer to his dad, both for comfort and to attempt to calm his heroic parent. He knew his past would affect his future, but he thought that the court order would protect him. That’s what he had been told.

An angry smirk tugs at Keigo’s lips. “She broke the agreement. Now can I-”

“Scorched Earth.”

“You two are scary when you’re mad,” Hizashi comments. “How can I help?”

Hours later, Keigo logs into the Hero Billboard Chart presentation. Like Hakamata had six months ago, Keigo had been offered the opportunity to attend via video call. Unlike his colleague, who had declined the offer, he logged in when he was told to. The producer asked him if there was somewhere more private where he could set up his computer. Tomura had fallen asleep leaning against Keigo and the winged man was in no hurry to move his child. Eventually, the producer gave up and just gave him the run down on what to expect attending virtually before transferring him to the actual event.

Half of his screen shows the stage, the other half shows the crowd. Seeing that Endeavor’s rank had dropped to number nine is amusing, but Keigo’s too busy hiding his anger to show his amusement. Now the top three are him, Best Jeanist, and Kamui Woods. He’s proud of Nishiya for finally reaching the top three. He knows that that’s been a goal of his for a few years now. He’s also proud of Mt. Lady for reaching rank ten.

Keigo almost feels bad for what he’s planning to do and how it’s going to affect hero society as a whole.

He glares at Kamiko as she gives a short speech. She thanks everyone for attending and congratulates the top ten heroes on their ranks. When she hands the microphone off to the announcer, she smirks to Keigo, earning her a glare from Best Jeanist, Mirko, and Endeavor. Kamiko doesn’t seem to care as she returns to her seat in the front row.

He patiently listens to his colleagues. A few of them, Ryukyu mainly, disapprove of their ranks. They think they should be lower. Endeavor is upset his rank went so far down, but understands why and promises to do better. Mirko congratulates Keigo for reaching number one so young instead of making a statement about her own rank, which had remained number five. Everyone else, with the exception of Jeanist, whom Keigo had texted earlier warning him about his plot, thanked their fans for supporting them.

“I have no comment on my rank,” Jeanist states.

Confused, the announcer asks, “Are you sure?”

Jeanist just turns to the large screen behind himself and his fellow heroes. “The stage is yours.”

Following the denim-clad hero’s lead, the announcer turns her attention to Keigo. “Hawks, you’re the number one hero, our new Symbol of Peace.” He cringes at that title. “Is there anything you would like to tell the world?”

“Before I say anything, can we get a spotlight on Kamiko?” Keigo asks.

“Um. I-I think so.” The announcer speaks the request into her radio. Seconds later, the president of the Hero Public Safety Commission is illuminated by the requested spotlight. Her earlier smirk replaced by a scowl of confusion and warning.

“Thanks.” Keigo’s full attention is on her. “I hope breaking our deal was worth it. Eraserhead, if you don’t mind.”

With a satisfied smirk, the underground hero approaches from a few rows behind her. “You’ve been served,” he states, handing her an envelope containing copies of UA’s lawsuit against her and the commission. “Welcome to hell.”

As he walks away, he nods to Keigo. The new number one hero’s expression shifts from neutral to vengeful. “I’m sure a lot of you are confused. You see, Kamiko forced the ranking committee to label the former members of the League of Villains as reformed villains despite a court order granting them immunity for their crimes. This means that they legally can’t be classified as villains anymore. Despite this, their names wound up on the list of villains I was credited with taking off the street. I’d still be number two if it weren’t for her breaking the rules.

“Did you know that your actions might have ruined Tomura and Himiko’s chances of being heroes after they graduate, Kamiko? Don’t answer that. Of course, you did; the head of the ranking committee warned you about it. You should really change your password if you’re going to piss off the people who know it. Well, now that you’ve gone against your end of the deal, I don’t have to keep up my end.”

He nods to Touya and Hizashi off screen. As Keigo continues, they work on making each damning post public. “You see, the whole system is broken. A man who was so abusive towards his family that he spawned a villain backstory and drove his wife insane was the number two hero for decades. The top villain was able to pick up a toddler off the street without anybody noticing for years and groom him to be a top villain himself. Thousands of mothers were convinced by representatives of the Hero Public Safety Commission to sell their children. I was one of those kids. The rest are dead.”

A rumble of disbelief and outrage rises from the crowd. Kamiko herself goes pale.

“It’s okay if you don’t believe me now. All the evidence you need will be available soon. Touya and I have been maintaining a collection of documents and security footage directly from the commission’s servers.”

Kamiko gestures for the announcer to give her the microphone. “Why are you doing this?” she asks. “I made you a hero and this is how you thank me?”

“You didn’t make me a hero. You made me a weapon to be used however you wanted. I didn’t have the freedom to be a hero until the League saved me. I would’ve died as a weapon months ago if it weren’t for them.”

“We trained you.”

“You tortured me and every other kid in the program. Only difference between me and them is that they didn’t meet your standards and you killed them off one by one. Your tests were painful at best, but lethal for the kids who failed. We started what you called ‘interrogation training’ when we were twelve. Do you remember that? You taught us how to keep our mouths shut through whatever sort of torture we could be faced with. Waterboarding, electrocution, beatings, all of it. There were twenty of us with wings. When you wanted us to train on the ground, you would cut our wings off. Only mine grew back every time. Then, there was the Dark Room. Flashing lights and painful frequencies played from all different directions and intervals. That room was sensory torture in the form of a closet, which was just the perfect punishment for someone with the senses of a hawk. Wasn’t it, Kamiko? You did design it just for me.”

“You don’t have the authority to-”

“I’d say he has the most authority to share this information,” Mirko growls.

Jeanist agrees, “You can’t silence him, nor should you.” Turning back to the screen, he says, “Hawks, thank you for sharing your past with us. That must have been difficult for you. Are you okay?”

“Not remotely, but I’m getting better every day.”

Jeanist nods. “You look tired. Go get some rest. We’ll handle this.”

Keigo just nods and logs off. He carefully lays Tomura down and kisses his forehead before going to check Touya and Hizashi’s progress. “Tsunagu’s right,” Touya comments, glancing over his shoulder as he finishes with his half of the posts. “You look exhausted.” Then he turns the rest of the way around. “He’s staying in here with us tonight, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he is. Is that a problem?”

Touya then turns to the voice hero trying to suppress his laughter. “Does Hitoshi still sleep with you and Aizawa?”

“Sometimes, yeah. He gets night terrors.”

Touya shakes his head. “Fine,” he points to his husband, “but you’re making sure he gets up early enough to go get his meds from his dorm before class.”

“Deal.”