Chapter Text
Keisuke ran his hands over the worn material of his hero costume, nearly stroking it in reverence before he put it in its place in a box beside the other costumes.
Officially, Chargebolt, Red Riot, Dynamight, and Ruin were on a training camp teaching young, aspiring heroes. The Hero Commission would have people wear nearly identical costumes and watch over the training when it counted — hence the need to give them back to the Commission — but in the mean time, unofficially, the four of them would be embarking on quite possibly the most dangerous mission they’d ever been recruited for.
The organization they were after was a large, underground convention, apparently complete with its own town-like structure and setting, which buildings erected from the rubble of what had been a broken subway system. On its own, it wasn’t a problem, but for the traction it was gaining, it was, to quote Hawks, bad for business. Having so many people agree with their doctrine made them worthy adversaries instead of small opponents to be caught when convenient, given nearly all of them had some kind of criminal record.
Katsuki wasn’t allowed inside like the rest of them, but he was to apply pressure from the outside, capturing them slowly. Midoriya, Deku, was to also apply pressure, but only when there was enough time and energy spent to prove it was worth bringing in the number one hero, mostly to avoid overplaying their hand too quickly.
Keisuke, despite being in such a high hero ranking, was mostly anonymous in real life, given that he wore a mask, never spoke, and was consistently bland in his responses. It hadn’t gotten out yet that he, Keisuke Kirishima, was the third spouse that Eijirou and Katsuki Kirishima had. Everything about him was anonymous, as he preferred it to be after the fiasco with Kana broadcasting and then smearing his and Azumi’s names in public.
With all of that in mind, it made the most sense for Keisuke and Denki to dye their hair and let Eijirou do the part of villainous hero to make the other villains relate to and understand Keisuke and Denki’s positions, put them in a more sympathetic light.
“I still don’t like this,” Eijirou muttered, tugging at his long, thick hair currently tamed back into a braid.
“It’s just hair,” Denki said, but his deflection fell flat. Fairly, though, Keisuke and Denki did look strange with their matching black hair instead of customary white and blonde respectively.
“We don’t know how long you’ll both be gone for,” Eijirou continued, as if Denki hadn’t spoken, worrying at his lip. Keisuke tapped twice, gathering their attention, but it was Katsuki who stepped in to defuse.
“Babe. You know Roomie and Sparky are tough as shit.” Keisuke startled, but Denki smiled, a little smug and all pleased. Eijirou opened his mouth to argue, but Katsuki spoke right over him, “We’re doing our best to save lives. They’ll be fine.”
We’ve got each other, Keisuke signed, and Denki nodded emphatically.
“Yes! See? Roomie’s right. Chill, it’s going to be fine.”
“But — ”
“I’ll take good care of him. No worries,” Denki added, and Eijirou’s eyes narrowed not in suspicion but in jealousy.
Which made it officially time for Keisuke to get Denki and him ready to go before the theatrics between the two, later joined in by a much more coarse Katsuki, began. Keisuke kissed Eijirou’s cheek, clearly startling him a little, and signed, Fine.
“I know, I know,” Eijrou muttered, and when he saw Keisuke’s next sign — Trust — he sighed, falling still. “You’re right.”
Keisuke gave him another peck, and then held out his hand for Denki, who took it with some surprise; it was well known that Keisuke didn’t love to be touched most of the time, but if they were going to pose as a pair, it was necessary. Also, simply, Keisuke didn’t hate it from Denki the way he did from most people, just like Izuku and Shouto.
Keisuke led him to the edge of the platform, waving to Kirishima behind him before leaving the area entirely; it wouldn’t be the last time he’d see them, and he had to dye his hair anyway.
With one hand, he signed, What’s our cover?
“Cover?”
Keisuke released Denki to gesture impatiently. Cover. What’s our story? Beside mutually hating heroes, how are we connected?
“Friends? Or… wait, you think — ?”
It would strengthen our commitment and allow us to be mutually privy to the information shared with each other.
Denki said nothing for a moment, considering. “What would we be? Lovers, married…?”
I figured we should be young lovers, motivated to be here to escape a Quirk marriage.
“Quirk marriage?” Denki tilted his head in thought. “I guess it would give us a reason to hate the heroes.”
And still be somewhat sympathetic to them, if our cover ever slips. They haven’t harmed us, but we can still hate their society. Keisuke paused, and then asked, What’s the altered version of your Quirk?
“I can create sparks.” Denki flicked his fingers, and yellow sparks licked across his fingers and hand. "You?”
I figured I would change it to an amplifying Quirk, but a weak one. If it comes up at all.
“Right,” Denki agreed. They were in silence for less than a moment before Denki said, his voice falsely bright, “Maybe this’ll all be done before Christmas.”
Six months away. Denki understood the risks and the how long this all might take, too. Will you and Shinsou be okay?
Denki said nothing for a long moment, longer than usual for him. When Keisuke looked over, he was frowning a little. “It’s the longest we’ve ever been apart,” he admitted. “’Toshi, he, um. Didn’t want me to go.”
Knowing Shinsou, he’d likely wanted to go in Denki’s place, but had been denied. Did you fight?
Denki paused for just a second too long for Keisuke to believe that his words were true. “No, we just — had to talk about it for a while. You know ‘Toshi.”
Keisuke did, which was why, assuming that they fought, Keisuke couldn’t help but wonder if they were still fighting, if they’d even worked out this fight before Denki was going on a potentially life-threatening mission for several months, maybe a year.
His thoughts must have shown on his face, because Denki gave him a little nudge, sunny smile firmly in place. “’Toshi and me are fine. Blasty and Hard Boy, though.” Denki nodded to where Katsuki was clearly struggling to figure out a headset with significantly more violence than usual, and Eijirou’s attempts to comfort were more half-hearted.
It’s not just their choice, Keisuke signed after a long moment. He turned to Denki, smiling a little, but it was rueful. You and Shinsou must relate to that.
Denki looked almost — annoyed, and Keisuke dropped the subject immediately, changing the subject completely; Shinsou was clearly not something he wanted to talk about any further.
A couple, then? Does that cover work for you?
Denki nodded. “Sounds good, Sparks.” They said nothing for a long few moments, watching Eijirou and Katsuki silently. “Think it’ll really be six months before we come back?”
Keisuke shrugged with one shoulder. Being gone for so long was hard to conceptualize, but necessary to understand anyway. It would be a long time before he’d see either of his partners again.
It’ll be fine, he signed instead, and he wanted to believe it with all of his heart, but he couldn’t help but think of Shinsou, gone for months at a time, or Aizawa, and the jaded way he looked at the world.