Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Aizawa Shouta often considered himself a decidedly grounded and reserved individual, or so he liked to believe most of the time. Being an underground hero for nearly a decade, a commendable accomplishment that toughened his mind with the daily challenges he faced, was only one facet of his life. Additionally, he served as a teacher to a bunch of teenage brats. And gods did the second one sometimes want to make him look into early retirement options. At this juncture, any scenario offering his comfortable couch, two affectionate cats, an overly loud husband, and a son with a caffeine addiction rivalling his own seemed like an appealing prospect. 

Now that he thinks about it, it was clear that he had it too good for too long. That with expelling his entire class last year, something had to come back to bite him in the ass. Letting out a frustrated groan, he ran his fingers through his hair, observing a short, blonde terror single-handedly take down a zero pointer, pulling one of the other contestants from the rubble.

He vaguely could recall who the child was. UA staff have all been briefed about a mysterious private student of Nezu, the first one since Aizawa himself, roaming the hallways of the school about four years ago. But none of them has ever really seen him around even when the announcement was made. In fact, nobody had heard or seen anything about him after that initial revelation. It took two months before a betting pool emerged, accompanied by discussions questioning the child's existence. Whether he was real or merely part of an elaborate social experiment the principal included all of them in started. And no matter how much any of them pestered the damn rat, the question remained unanswered.

Now, as they all observed the practical part of the entrance exam, Shouta was almost certain everyone’s eyes were locked onto the tiny force of nature. Watching as the child's villain and rescue points surged rapidly as the exam neared its end, captivating onlookers in various stages of shock. They watched in awe as he effortlessly manoeuvred through the field, dispatching robots with a casual flick of a stray feather, the cameras intermittently capturing the glint of sparkling gold eyes. The shade of gold carried an uncanny familiarity, though Shouta couldn't quite pinpoint where that sense of recognition stemmed from.

“You know, Eraser” Kan pointed towards the screen as three black feathers appeared in the boy's hand, flying fast towards a two-pointer shortly after. “You can take this one.”

“What’s the little guy's name?” Yamada asked curiously and Shouta was honestly considering pulling out his sleeping back and laying down in the corner of the room, his ‘to go’ cup firmly in his hand. He could see his own kid run into the frame, smiling widely at the blonde and catching a jet-black feather thrown in his direction. And he could absolutely feel his headache starting as he watched Hitoshi wink in his direction before dashing forward toward another robot. The wide grin on Hizashi’s face did not help in the slightest.

It was the next two words that were uttered by the principal, clearly said with pride and amusement, that had him choking on his coffee.

“Izuku Takami.”

A simple name, two words that lingered in the air with such ease and innocence. And gods, let him be wrong this one time.

“Please tell me his father’s name isn’t Keigo” He glanced at the smiling rat and slammed his head on the desk in front of him. To be completely honest the smug grin itself told him everything he had to know. “Any beings above that can hear me, please have mercy on our souls.”

He saw the confused look that Hizashi and Nemuri shared with each other, the rest of the staff looking at him and the principal, confusion clear in their eyes. He saw the exact moment Chiyo made the connection and her eyes widened as she hid her face in her hands. 

And Shouta just knew he gained the first Problem Child of the year.

It took Shouta an entire month, an excessively long phone call, and more coffee than socially acceptable to finalise the most crucial document of his entire career, encompassing both his role as a teacher and a pro-hero. He had reread it about a dozen times today alone, slowly making his way to the teacher's lounge, as if ensuring it covered every significant detail on such short notice. Sighing, he opened the door to allow Recovery Girl entry, with Nezu comfortably perched on his shoulder. As he leisurely approached the central table in the room, he slammed the folder onto its surface, immediately capturing the attention of everyone inside. He suppressed a smirk upon seeing Toshinori startle in his chair, a stark contrast to the deep conversation he had been engrossed in with Snipe just a moment ago.

“Well, you’re clearly in a good mood. Care to enlighten us about the contents of that mystery box, Eraser?" Kan remarked sarcastically, eyeing the envelope with a raised brow.

"This" Aizawa began, slowly extracting a stack of papers. Giving all of them but one to Shuzenji who already started handing them out to everyone in the room. "This is a meticulously crafted set of rules compiled over the past month. Read through it, commit it to memory, and swear by it. Burn it onto your forehead and stick it on your fridge if necessary. I don't particularly care. And maybe, just maybe, you will be lucky enough to survive the next three years.”

"Aizawa's guidebook to hopefully subdue and conquer the Takami Demon Child? Really, Shouta?" Nemuri's snort echoed as she read the title aloud. He crossed his arms over his chest, maintaining an unamused gaze. “Wait, you're actually serious? Is that the kid from the entrance exam? The one that took down the zero pointer?”

Aizawa surveyed the room slowly. Most of the staff had already set the papers aside, not bothering to delve beyond the first page. Hizashi, bless his husband, reclined in his chair, much to Kayama's amusement, carefully scrutinising each point, biting his lip harder with every revelation. Chiyo, somewhere in the corner of the room, sat on one of the couches, methodically reading through the list, silently nodding to herself with a grave expression.

‘Good.’ he thought to himself. ‘Maybe at least those two will make it out alive.’

“He scored first on both practical and academics, didn’t he?” Ectoplasm asked, throwing the paper on the table when he saw Nezu nod silently. “He’s just a teenager, I don’t think a room full of pro-heroes needs an entire guidebook to deal with one kid. Why spend a month to even put it together in the first place?”

And Aizawa fucking snorted.

“Because this one kid” Shouta began, bringing his hand up to massage his already throbbing temples. “This short, absolute force of nature and menace of a child is the son of an ex-underground pro-hero I had the displeasure of crossing paths with. And I am giving you this out of the pure goodness of my heart because I already know how much of a headache he will be if he’s anything like his father.”

Mōkin remained a true enigma among the underground heroes. Guarded about his civilian life, he divulged little, leaving others with scant knowledge aside from his hero name. He wasn't one to linger after drug busts or raids for a chat, preferring efficiency in his takedowns. Swift and silent, blood-red feathers soared through the sky, disappearing from anyone's field of vision even faster. He had been active for several years before Shouta completed his own studies. Never took in any interns, never tied himself down to any sidekicks, and handed out his personal number to a handful of others. To Shouta's knowledge, besides him and Tsukauchi, he wasn't certain if anyone else possessed that number. They were also the only two acquainted with Mōkin's civilian name, a piece of information that stayed hidden even after the man transitioned to the limelight heroics, surfacing as Hawks.

The two had collaborated on numerous cases over the years, and despite Shouta's reluctance to admit it, Takami proved to be a reliable and methodical partner when needed. Shouta didn't know what prompted the change, and he was never nosy enough to inquire.  He would be a liar if he said he didn’t watch the man climb the ranks in record time after his debut with a weird sense of amazement. Years of experience backed him up, it was clear as day and out for everyone to see. Yet seeing the person he remembered as vague and closed-off now strutting the streets with a smug look and an overconfident persona occasionally made his head spin when contemplating it. If Takami's next of kin was anything like him, well, they were all in for a ride .

He watched Hizashi rise from his chair, meticulously folding the paper and tucking it into his jacket pocket.

"With all due respect, Aizawa, I'm sure we can handle a child just fine without a guidebook, regardless of who his father is" Toshinori stated cautiously, eyeing him as Nezu hopped off his shoulder to retrieve his own copy of the ruleset from Recovery Girl.

"For your own sake, I hope you're right" Shouta responded grimly, exiting the room with his husband at his side, heading toward the parking lot and their car.

“I will have to learn these rules by heart, won’t I?” Yamada inquired as he fished out the keys, arching an eyebrow and smirking at him.

Shouta grinned widely as he settled into the passenger's seat, leaning forward to retrieve his sunglasses and pushing them up onto his head. His husband regarded him curiously as he closed the door.

“I can already tell you, you will be praising every single god you know about that you did.”

Chapter Text

Avoid causing distress, harm, or attempting to intimidate the Demon Child or anyone from his flock. In the event that the situation escalates significantly, he or any of his friends can and absolutely will call Hawks. We don’t need two birds of prey in one building. We want to prevent this scenario from happening at all costs.

To be honest, Toshinori wasn’t quite sure what to make of Izuku Takami. The kid was a bundle of quirks — both in terms of his inherited abilities and his eccentric personality. Watching him interact with his peers was like witnessing a chaotic symphony orchestrated by a maestro with a flair for the dramatic. His energy, a whirlwind of enthusiasm, like a caffeinated ferret on roller skates. It was as if chaos and mirth were his two constant companions, a dynamic duo wreaking havoc wherever Izuku went. And yet, despite the tornado of chaos surrounding him, Toshinori couldn't help but notice an undeniable charm about the boy.

And he truly didn’t understand what Aizawa was so scared of. Yes, the kid might be a handful at times, at least going by the stories told by teachers who already met the teen during their classes, but really? It didn’t sound that bad. Just a normal hero hopeful in one of the most prestigious hero schools in the country with a slight dose of healthy humour rooted somewhere deep within his bones.

Oh boy was he wrong about that. So, so wrong about that.

It was safe to say Yagi kept an eye out for anything that involved the bird boy. And one thing was very clear. The peculiar friendship blooming between Izuku Takami and Hitoshi Shinsou. When these two met during the entrance exam, it was like witnessing the collision of chaos and calm, a beautiful disaster in the making. Toshinori couldn't fathom how their friendship had blossomed so rapidly, like an unexpected wildflower in the midst of a superhero garden. It was as if fate itself had decided to play matchmaker with two puzzle pieces that, at first glance, seemed like they belonged to completely different jigsaws. An odd mix, but a mix nonetheless.

He also knew that their meeting was the cause of Aizawa’s foul mood and the increase in their coffee stock, stashed carefully in one of the drawers in the teachers' lounge.

So initially, after taking all of the information available to him at the moment, Toshinori couldn't help but feel a sense of scepticism regarding Shouta's tales of Takami's misadventures.

As the days unfolded, Yagi found himself witnessing first-hand the pandemonium that followed in Izuku's wake. From impromptu feather showers in the hallways to elaborate pranks involving Hitoshi or Katsuki and a surplus of glitter, Toshinori quickly realised that Aizawa's complaints, while slightly exaggerated — were somewhat true.

On one particularly memorable day, Izuku decided to test the limits of gravity by attempting an elaborate aerial manoeuvre in the middle of a crowded hallway. The resulting havoc left Toshinori with a newfound appreciation for the term "controlled chaos" and a slightly bruised sense of optimism.

But it really wasn’t as bad as Aizawa made it out to be. Really, it was all fine up until the mock battles. Oh god, the fucking mock battles.

Toshinori observed the final mock battle of the day alongside the rest of this year's A class, a mixture of wariness and curiosity lingering in his gaze. Aizawa's words from a month ago continued to echo in his mind as he watched the blonde teen skilfully evade another ice shard hurled his way by Todoroki. Amidst the frost slowly encrusting the building's walls and the temperature plummeting, they remained the only two capable of continuing the fight. The hero team teetered dangerously close to the time limit.

Jet-black feathers materialised in the boy's hands, seemingly conjured out of thin air, only to vanish upon hitting their target. Murmurs among the students behind him began the moment one of them pointed it out. Toshinori tightened his grip on the side of the table as he witnessed Takami kneel down, hand clutching his bicep where a flying shard had cut through his jacket, blood slowly starting to drip down his arm. 

Something was wrong.

He felt like time slowed down as he watched the kid pull his hand to the side, opening his palm, and smirking as he looked down to the ground. Todoroki, exhausted, his breath clearly visible as the room continued to frost, stopped abruptly.

Something was very, very wrong.

His thoughts briefly reverted to the title of the stack of papers Aizawa distributed during the staff meeting — the same papers he and about half a dozen other teachers carelessly stashed into drawers, closing the folder after skimming through just the first page. A sudden chill ran down his spine, and his eyes widened as the kid's hand started glowing bright green. Toshinori watched in awe as black feathers sliced through the air, only to return to the teen's grasp. Most gracefully manoeuvred past Todoroki, curving and dancing around the room as if cautious not to strike anything vital, but some stray feathers ventured dangerously close. Looked like they were meant to hit. 

A collective gasp escaped from the students as shallow wounds appeared on the other teen's arms and legs. Takami surged forward the moment he began tipping over, a slightly shaky voice emanating from the comms, cutting through the fog of thoughts Yagi found himself immersed in.

“Todoroki is fine, minor bleeding just pushed him over the edge because of how near his limit he was. He might be bordering hypothermia around now, as well as the other two who were in the exercise with us.” He vaguely could hear Takami’s words as he stared at the camera feed. He must’ve taken too long to answer because the next sentence came out a lot quicker than the previous, composed one. “All Might? We need to get them to Recovery Girl, I’d rather not risk a serious injury if I can help it.”

He shook his head slightly as he took in the words and brought a trembling hand to the earpiece he was wearing. When did his hands start to shake? He glanced to the side, seeing the worried eyes of the rest of the class, staring right at him. “I’m sorry young Takami, I’ll send the bots for the four of you right away and get to the Nurse's as soon as I can.”

The next few minutes passed in a blur. He dismissed the rest of the kids for the day, after an avalanche of assurances that Todoroki was in no danger whatsoever, barely registering the two heads that followed him as he headed to Chiyo’s office. The weird feeling, somewhere deep in the back of his head, still present when he was met with one, really angry-looking Aizawa as he pushed the door open. He saw Todoroki, Shoji, and Hagakure, sitting on one of the cots in the corner of the room, all three under a heavy-looking blanket, steaming mugs in their hands. His brows furrowed when he didn’t spot Takami with them, shoulders tensing.

“All Might.” Aizawa's voice startled him out of his thoughts, and he turned to face the man. And Toshinori Yagi could tell he royally fucked up, just by looking at his face. “Care to explain how four of my students ended up here after just their first lesson with you?”

He saw in the corner of his eye as Shinsou and Bakugou both moved towards one of the cots shielded by the heavy, blue curtains, pushing them aside. There sat Takami, a lighter cover draped over his legs, rapidly typing on his phone, which he set down upon noticing the two arrivals. He could vaguely make out the slight shivers, his heart rate picking up when his wings were nowhere in sight.

‘Right.’ His mind supplied after catching up with his eyes. ‘It’s fine. He has to physically manifest them for them to show up. Everything is fine.' 

“Ah that, sorry about that.” He rubbed a sore spot on his neck and looked down. “I think I underestimated how cold it would get on the site when Todoroki used his ice on the entire building.”

The man began to open his mouth, likely to offer further scolding before Recovery Girl intervened.

“All four of the kids show varying levels of hypothermia or at least were on the verge of getting there when they got here. I healed most of the superficial wounds of the three but when it comes to Takami, he will have to stay here for a bit more to build up the energy he needs to heal his bicep. Todoroki got a pretty nasty shot in, I patched it up in the meantime.” She grimaced looking at the avian boy in question. “He retracted his wings to limit unnecessary energy use so he shouldn’t have to sit here for more than an hour. His father is already on his way, he’s pretty pissed too.”

Toshinori's mind went blank at the look of pity he received from Shuzenji. He knew the kid was a son of a Pro-Hero, or at least a former, underground one, but no matter how hard he tried to go back with his memory, ‘Takami’ truly didn’t sound familiar in any way. Nevertheless, an unsettling feeling lingered deep within him that he couldn't shake off. A few agonising minutes later and some very non-committal conversations among the kids that Yagi had to listen to, the door slammed open. His eyes zeroed in on the giant red wings proudly displayed on the man's back. The room fell silent, and Toshinori froze as Takami leapt off the bed, dashing towards fucking Hawks, shouting one simple word that drained the colour from his face. “Dad!”

“My little nestling! The small ‘Zawa filled me in when I was on my way here.” Hawks said as he pulled the kid towards him, big wings wrapping protectively around his son, good god it’s his son, as his eyes darkened when he saw Toshinori. He swore he could see the blood red feathers sharpen slightly.

Fuck. He should have read the damn guidebook.

Chapter Text

Izuku is required to go to Nezu’s office during his free study period and mathematics classes for their private lessons. If you hear him roaming around UA at those times, assume Nezu gave him permission to. If you see him roaming around, step out of the way. Do not engage no matter what.

Ectoplasm was sure he was slowly going crazy after years of teaching chaotic teenagers on top of his hero work. It wasn't that he hated his job, he absolutely adored teaching mathematics, especially in UA of all the schools at his disposal, but it was starting to get ridiculous. Because it had only been four days since school had started and he was certain that something was crawling around in the vents, that definitely wasn’t Nezu. As much as all of the staff hated it, Nezu was unusually quiet when strolling around the school in the maze he created. Never made a sound as he jumped down on any of the desks, behaving as if he was already there the entire time with that shit-eating grin on his face. 

And Ectoplasm really wanted to delude himself that it was another psychological play of the principal. The rat finding deep satisfaction in making his anxiety spike through the roof every single time he heard a loud bang above his head, but somewhere deep inside him, he knew it wasn’t the case. What didn’t help with calming his nerves down was the absence of a certain blonde he heard quite a lot about in the past few days. 

And that Izuku Takami, the top scorer of the entrance exams of this year, one of the most discussed topics that bounced around the teacher’s lounge, was nowhere to be seen on any of the rosters handed out to him by the principal. 

It’s not like he didn’t ask both Nezu and Aizawa about the kid and why exactly he wasn’t attending his class. He tried. And annoyingly their responses were eerily similar. A raised brow, and a scoff followed by both of them just walking out of the room or ignoring him to continue their previous activity that he interrupted. Hell, he tried asking class 1-A themselves about it and was met with complete silence. So as reluctant as he was to admit it, Ectoplasm was stressed.

On his way to the teachers' lounge, he spotted him for the first time, beyond the recordings of the exam that all the staff had received. A bright, blonde mess of hair confidently striding through the halls, well past the bell that had rung ten minutes ago — someone who really shouldn't be here, certainly not in his class. Jet-black wings spread out proudly as the teen leisurely moved down the deserted hallway. Ectoplasm cleared his throat loudly, finally capturing his attention.

“You shouldn’t be here kid.” He started, walking closer to Takami, who was now facing him with a confused look on his face. “You should be in class, not walking around the hall after it has already started.”

Ectoplasm had encountered and taught numerous teens throughout his career, ever since he took up the job at UA alongside his hero duties. He witnessed tempers mellowing out with time, observed shy kids who rarely participated unless prompted, knew the energetic ones who always seemed to be on the move. He taught the daydreamers, the serious ones, the genius kids. Yet, never once in all that time had he stopped dead in his tracks just from looking into a student's eyes. 

Staring into the gold that seemed to pierce right through him, as if daring him to come even slightly closer in their direction. He didn’t even notice when he took a step back, snapping out of his daze seconds later with the boy nowhere in sight. A hand on his shoulder belonging to a concerned Yamada, asking him if something was wrong, feeling heavier than usual. His mind echoed one question.

What the hell just happened?

Well into the afternoon, Ectoplasm realised that the first thing to go missing that very day was, in fact, his favourite mug. The disappearance of things into thin air wasn't really anything new at UA. The Great Disappearances, as they called it, typically began before the school year even started. Small personal belongings would go MIA at least a couple of times a month, magically reappearing in a single, enormous pile in the teacher's lounge on graduation day without fail. It had happened before and occurred annually without fail for years now. The culprit was never caught in the act, so naturally, they decided to handle the situation at hand like the responsible adults they were. Before long, a betting pool was set up, with one simple question written on a whiteboard in bright pink marker that Aizawa had brought one day.

‘Who will be the first victim this year?’

As much as he hated to say this, it seemed like both the caterpillar man and the walking microphone would be getting rich this time around. So it was safe to say Ectoplasm thought he was ready for another year of idle search for his lost belongings. What he was not ready for, was to come back to UA on the very next day after the strange encounter and see that the door to his classroom as well as his desk were simply just… not there?

What the fuck?

In the corner of his eye, he swore he could see a snickering white rat and a short blonde, backing up into a vent, black wings on the teen’s back slowly fading in the sunlight. What didn’t help the storm raging inside his brain was the complete lack of interest his students showed when it came to the impromptu changes made to the room. He watched them walk in, one by one, sitting down at their assigned desks. Some already looking in his direction and waiting for the bell to ring. He glanced at Kirishima leaning forward over his desk, enthusiastically discussing the heroics class they were going to have next with Kaminari and Ashido. He could barely hear the videos Uraraka and Iida were watching, bursting out with laughter every once in a while. What he didn’t see was Bakugou, discreetly passing a thousand-yen bill to the smirking Shinsou.

And really, that was on him.

Another missing thing became very apparent to Ectoplasm when he tried to sit down in the chair that he could swear he saw in the room when he walked into it not even ten minutes ago. Promptly stumbling onto the ground, eyes wide, as the class snickered.

Shaking off the awkward incident in the classroom, Ectoplasm made his way to the teachers' lounge, hoping for some respite from the strange occurrences of the day. As he pushed open the door, he found himself met with a sight that added another layer to the surreal day.

There, in the midst of the lounge, sat Takami. In his coat, he swore he just had on his shoulders mere minutes before. Present Fucking Mic sitting right in front of him, not caring even slightly about the teenager currently occupying the office chair Aizawa protected with his life. Hell, he still remembered the bashing Snipe got for even asking about borrowing it for ten minutes.

What.

The hero paused, a slow blink conveying his confusion. "Takami, why are you wearing my coat?"

The teen didn’t even look up from the newspaper he was reading. And really, who in the ever-loving fuck even still reads those? He swore he saw a slight smirk he tried to cover with the paper.

"Ecto, who are you talking to buddy?" Present Mic's voice broke through his thoughts, confusion evident in his expression.

"The kid, Takami, he's right here." Ectoplasm replied, pointing towards Aizawa's chair where the teen was perched, still absorbed in his newspaper.

Present Mic squinted, bewildered. "Kid? What kid? I don't see anyone."

Ectoplasm turned his head away from Present Mic, intending to continue the conversation with Takami, his eyes widening.

The chair was fucking empty.

Maybe Aizawa had a point. Now where did he put that guidebook again?

Chapter Text

Takami can go a long time sleep-less before he falls over from exhaustion. Do not try to coax him into taking a nap, it won’t work. If he cannot fall asleep after 50 hours, the caffeine ban gets lifted, but ONLY after 50 hours. Not a second earlier. Or the consequences will be dire. Before that timeframe, just keep an eye out and inform Recovery Girl.

Takami's sleeping habits were more regimented than a military drill.

IF, by some cosmic miracle, Takami found himself staring at the ceiling for a whopping 50 hours straight, the caffeine ban was lifted. No more forced sobriety. But, and this was a big but, it had to be precisely after 50 hours. Not even a minute before. A strict, caffeine countdown. 

And words couldn't describe how quickly Recovery Girl was chosen as the designated timekeeper, the caffeine custodian, the guardian of the golden hour.

The rule itself was clear: Keep an eye on Takami, and for the love of heroism, do not let him near a coffee bean until the magical 50-hour mark.  Before that, it was her duty to fend off any well-meaning enablers with a stern look and a wagging finger.

Tracking it was difficult, but manageable. Each time the kid woke up or fell asleep a text message was sent to Shuzenji either by him or someone next to him, usually a part of his flock or his father. And it served a purpose.

Failure to adhere to this rule had consequences that were whispered about in hushed tones among the ones who knew just how serious the situation was. Some said it involved a horde of hyperactive squirrels, while others claimed it summoned a caffeine deity that cursed the violator to eternal sluggishness. Whatever the truth, one thing was certain — Takami's caffeine quota was not to be tampered with lightly.

And Nemuri fucking wished she wasn’t that stupid before, cursing every decision that led up to this point in her life. Because Shota was right, and after this entire clusterfuck ended, she was never going to hear the end of it.

She quickly found out that trying to convince the kid to take a nap was like trying to teach a fish to fetch. It just wasn't happening. And she really tried. Countless times. Every time she even slightly suggested it, she was met with a quizzical stare that could've rivalled even the most confused penguin.

So there they were, in the Modern Art class she was supposed to teach, standing at the precipice of Takami's caffeine countdown catastrophe. The seconds ticking away like a doomsday clock for an impending disaster. Her students glancing nervously at their classmate who was somehow still standing upright, eyes wide open, as if the Sandman had taken a vacation and forgot to leave Takami's address.

It was a really pitiful sight. So she did the only thing she could think of at the time.

"Hey, Takami." She smiled, strolling over to his desk. "I thought you might need a little boost to appreciate the beauty of modern art. I've got just the thing for you."

And to be fair, she should have guessed something was wrong just by the reaction of the class. Their eyes widening, looking around the room frantically, Bakugo and Shinso smirking while looking at each other.

Takami raised an eyebrow, his gaze momentarily leaving the abstract masterpiece that he was pretending to admire. "Is that coffee?" He asked, a glimmer of both suspicion and hope in his eyes.

Midnight winked, her lips curled into a mischievous smile. "Consider it a gift from one nocturnal creature to another. Drink up.”

Without waiting for a response, she handed Takami the thermos, unaware that she was about to trigger a series of events that would go down in UA history. The students watched in a mix of anticipation and horror, as Takami took a cautious sip, downing the entire cup in one full swing. His eyes widened, and a mischievous glint replaced the tired look that had become his trademark. The students exchanged bewildered glances, unsure if they were witnessing a miraculous awakening or the beginning of a caffeine-fueled apocalypse.

Midnight, still unaware of the storm she had unleashed, continued with her lecture on the avant-garde movements of the art world. Takami, now a whirlwind of hyperactivity, answered questions with an uncanny speed, dissecting the intricacies of abstract expressionism as if he had absorbed an entire art history textbook in a matter of seconds.

The bell signalling the end of the class rang, and Nemuri, pleased with the unexpected participation, dismissed the students. 

Little did she know, the real show was about to begin.

Takami, fueled by the forbidden caffeine, burst out of the classroom like a man possessed. His strides were long and purposeful, his eyes wide open and alert. He darted through the hallways with a newfound agility, leaving a trail of bewildered onlookers in his wake.

Recovery Girl, having received the alert, was already on the move, anticipating the chaos that usually followed Takami's caffeine consumption. She followed the caffeine-induced comet, her eyes narrowing as she saw him take a detour towards the school's stash.

Lunch Rush, sensing the impending doom, scrambled to barricade the supplies. But Takami, now a blur of energy and determination, broke through the makeshift barricade with a speed that would make even his father jealous.

With a full-to-the-brim pot of freshly brewed coffee in hand, he grinned like a madman, his eyes glinting with intensity. "I am the caffeine-fueled hero this school never knew it needed!" 

The students watched in a mix of awe and trepidation, wondering just how much coffee one person could consume without spontaneously combusting. And holy shit, her life flashed before her eyes when she saw Aizawa run into the cafeteria, his eyes narrowing at the sight of Takami clutching a pot of coffee like a prized possession before locking onto her.

"Nem." He growled, his voice cutting through the haze. She fucked up so bad, didn’t she? "Care to explain why Takami was just sprinting through the hallways like he's on a collision course with chaos?"

“I don’t know!” Midnight blinked, a rare moment of confusion crossing her usually composed expression. “Really, I only gave him some coffee! He was barely hanging on in my class and I just thought he could use a little pick-me-up!”

“You gave him unrestricted access to caffeine? Before the 50-hour mark?” Shota's eyes narrowed. “You really didn’t read the guidebook, did you?”

“You included this in that fucking ruleset?” 

"Of course I did! To avoid a situation just like this one!” She could feel his glare in her bones. “Takami's father is on his way to pick him up. We need to contain this situation before it spirals further out of control. The last time this happened, he redecorated the teacher's lounge with coffee grounds. Do you really want a repeat of that, Kayama?"

“That was him?” Midnight's eyes widened in realisation, a sheepish grin forming on her lips. "So, what do we do now?"

Aizawa sighed, adjusting his scarf. "First, we find Takami. Then, we figure out how to clean up this mess before his father arrives. And trust me, explaining this to him is not going to be a conversation any of us want to have."

She heard the sound of breaking glass somewhere behind her and saw a streak of green running past her. If that was the child causing the pandemonium, who the hell was the father?

The answer came in a flash, quite literally. 

As the green streak vanished around a corner, the unmistakable sound of wings flapping rapidly reached her ears. A feathered blur descended from above, landing gracefully in the midst of the caffeine-induced turmoil. Her eyes widened when she realised who exactly the figure was. 

Avian quirks. The piercing gold eyes and unruly blonde hair. The almost identical flight jackets. Of course, the father of this one particular student just had to be fucking Hawks .

“Seems like my fledgeling’s been causing a bit of a ruckus.” He flashed them a charming smile, his wings folding neatly against his back. "Mind pointing me in the direction of the tornado? I've got feathers to ruffle and a caffeine enthusiast to wrangle."

Nemuri blinked and slowly gestured towards the teacher’s lounge where the green streak had disappeared.

Without missing a beat, Hawks shot into the air with the grace of a seasoned hero. She could faintly feel Aizawa dragging her by the arm to follow his lead. And damn, was the room trashed. He surveyed the chaos with a mix of amusement and exasperation.

"Alright then, which one of you let my kid loose on the coffee again?" He called out, his voice carrying a unique blend of authority and nonchalance.

Shouta stepped forward, giving a curt nod. "That would be Midnight. She thought a bit of caffeine might enhance Takami's appreciation for modern art."

“I might've not been aware of the 50-hour rule.” Midnight attempted a sheepish smile. "But hey, he was so engaged in class!"

"Well, that explains most of it." Hawks raised an eyebrow, glancing at the chaos unfolding in the aftermath. "Engaged, huh? Looks more like he's on a caffeine-fueled rampage. Is there a particular reason he's carrying a pot of coffee like a trophy?"

Before Nemuri could even begin forming a response, Takami whizzed by, leaving a gust of wind in his wake. Hawks followed his son's erratic path with a shake of his head. "Looks like I've got my hands full today. Don't worry, I'll handle it."

Shortly after, a flurry of red feathers shot out of his wings as if dancing in the air, carefully lifting the kid up above the ground.

Midnight watched from the side, a mix of relief and amusement playing on her face. "You're picking him up with feathers? New parenting method I didn’t know about?"

Hawks shot her a wry smile. "When you're a single parent dealing with a kid who can't sit still, you gotta get creative. Now, let's hope I can talk some sense into him at home before he turns the school into a giant coffee stain."

As Hawks carried Takami through the window, he shot a glance at Midnight. "Next time, read the memo, Kayama."

Yeah. Good call, to be fair.

Chapter Text

If someone will go out of his way and try to push his buttons to challenge him, he will finally snap and fight back. If that happens, call for: Shinsou Hitoshi, Hawks or myself (Eraserhead). Bakugou Katsuki is also an acceptable option. Do not engage or try to diffuse the situation. It's already too late for that. Pray it won't turn against you and run for help.

Hound Dog thought he’d seen a lot in his life. Heroic showdowns, villainous schemes, and more teenage angst than a melodramatic soap opera. From students battling with existential crises over their quirks to teachers bickering about whose turn it was to refill the coffee machine, UA High School was a hotbed of peculiarities. But nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared him for the showdown that unfolded right in front of his very office.

And Hound Dog really thought he’d seen a lot.

The incident had started innocently enough, as most teenage squabbles did. Monoma, with his trademark smug expression, had decided it was an excellent idea to test the limits of Takami’s patience. After the storm passed, he couldn't help but wonder how someone as seemingly calm and collected as Takami had managed to find himself in such a predicament.

In the realm of UA High, Takami Izuku was renowned for his reserved demeanour and meticulous approach to his studies. The teachers often exchanged stories about his composed nature, with some even jokingly referring to him as the 'Chill Hawk.' He had heard tales of Takami deftly navigating through high-pressure situations with a nonchalant air, his mask of cool-headedness rarely ever slipping through his fingers.

However, beneath that calm exterior seemed to lie a fuse waiting to be ignited.

Now, anyone with half a brain and that knowledge in their minds would know that pushing Takami’s buttons was akin to juggling a dynamite. Sure, it might be entertaining for a while, but the inevitable explosion was bound to leave a mess.

His first mistake, after hearing a loud bang outside of the room, was investigating the cause. The second? Trying to intervene and split up the two rabid teenagers, both about to rip each others’ throats out. He stepped between the two, armed with his clipboard and years of experience in diffusing heated situations. Little did he know, he was about to become a spectator in a drama that even Shakespeare might have deemed a tad over-the-top.

Maybe retirement was a good option in the end, this shit was way above his pay grade. To be fair, he should have shut up the second he saw the look in the teen’s eyes. That was on him.

Hound Dog adjusted his glasses, unaware of the ticking time bomb standing across from him. "Alright, let's try to work through this, guys. Communication is key, and violence never solves anything."

That was apparently the third mistake he made that day. He heard a low growl and was met with a glare that he was sure could make lava freeze. Monoma, however, was not one to be easily deterred. He continued his barrage of taunts, unaware of the impending storm he was about to unleash.

Before he could fully finish his sentence, Monoma, egged on by some misplaced sense of bravado, decided to go for it. "Hawks' kid, huh? What's the big deal? Just riding on your old man's feathers, aren't you?"

Wait, Hawks’ kid?

He was about to issue another attempt at mediation, he really was. But that was before Takami’s eyes flashed with a dangerous glint. A telltale sign that the proverbial fuse had burned down to its last inch, and the explosion was imminent. Hound Dog sensed danger but thought he could handle it. Little did he know that the rulebook he tossed out the window on the very day he got it would be the very crucial piece of information he was missing.

The atmosphere shifted, and Takami stood up, a dangerous calm settling over him. The hallway suddenly felt smaller as the two teenagers locked eyes. Hound Dog, blissfully ignorant of the impending storm, took a deep breath, ready to push between the two. Or at the very least get a word in edgewise.

However, before he could utter another response, Takami's voice cut through the silence, "You know what, Monoma? You're right. I am riding on my old man's feathers." He cracked his knuckles, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "And you're about to learn just how sharp those feathers can be."

The situation had spiralled out of control. And Hound Dog could feel in his bones that it was too late for mere mortals to handle.

“And what can you even do? You don’t have your angry pomeranian or the villainous brainwash kid to watch your ass for you, after all.”

In the blink of an eye, feathers shot out from Takami's palm like a flurry of razor-sharp blades.

Still processing the sudden escalation, he lunged forward with the intention of stopping the impending clash. His large, canine frame moved surprisingly fast, but the chaos had already set in motion. Feathers zipped past him, narrowly missing his snout, as he tried to intervene.

"Whoa, whoa, calm down, both of you!" Hound Dog barked, attempting to use his quirk to create a barrier between the two students. It was a valiant effort, but feathers sliced through the air, effortlessly bypassing his makeshift defences. Almost transparent when going right through his body, slowly gaining back their jet-black colour as they got closer to the other teen. He found himself ducking and weaving, trying to avoid becoming an unintended casualty in this bizarre skirmish.

Amid the chaos, he heard footsteps in the distance, coming from somewhere down the hall. Soon after, Eraserhead himself came into view, looking as unfazed as if he was strolling into the teacher's lounge for a cup of coffee.

Aizawa surveyed the scene with a stone-cold expression, eyes narrowing as if he had expected nothing less from UA's eclectic student body. "What in the world is going on here?" he deadpanned, a capture weapon coiled around one arm, ready for action.

Feathers disappeared and Monoma crashed onto the ground. Hard. When the hell did he get pinned to the wall in the first place? The corridor fell silent, save for the frustrated panting of the combatants and the low growl of Hound Dog, still recovering from his failed intervention.

“Monoma was being a dick.” Takami, though visibly simmered down, shot a defiant look at Aizawa. “The clash was bound to happen eventually.”

Eraserhead's expression remained an unchanged mixture of annoyance and amusement. Until he looked him in the eyes, raising his eyebrow. "Hound Dog, why the hell didn't you call for me the second this fight started?"

Hound Dog scratched behind his ear, a guilty expression settling on his features. "Well, I thought I could handle it, and then it spiralled out of proportion."

"Handle it? This is Takami we're talking about. Did none of you even bother to read that stupid thing I spent a month creating?"

Hound Dog mumbled an apology, and Aizawa shook his head in exasperation. "Next time, don't hesitate. Call for backup immediately. Now, let me deal with this mess."

The pro hero marched over to the two students, his presence alone enough to quell any lingering tension. With a stern look, he addressed Takami.

"You. My office. Now. I need to tell your father about this whole ordeal." Then, turning his gaze to Monoma, he added, "And you better find a new hobby before you pick a fight with someone who can actually put up a challenge without holding back. That was your warning to not mess with the bird kid."

It was safe to say that Hound Dog spent an entire hour after the encounter, exploring the greenery growing under the window of his office, looking for the guidebook.

Chapter Text

If you see someone join the Takami Flock, make sure to remember who. It will save you time if you’re looking for at least one of them. Safe to assume they cause chaos and mayhem somewhere together.

Snipe was starting to think that trying to manage a horde of teenage hero hopefuls was not a good career choice. He scratched his head, frustration evident in the creases on his forehead. Really, how hard could it be to keep track of a bunch of kids with superpowers?

Apparently, harder than he initially thought, that’s for sure.

Because Monoma Neito was fucking missing. And both him and Vlad didn’t know what the hell they were supposed to do about it.

He had been searching for what felt like hours, trudging through the crowded corridors and poking his head into classrooms but the teen was nowhere to be found. Snipe couldn’t help but feel a twinge of irritation slowly building up. After all, it was that asshole Vlad who had roped him into this wild goose chase in the first place. He didn’t want any part of this shit show. 

Of all the students to go MIA, it just had to be Monoma, the epitome of trouble wrapped in a smug, self-assured package.

"He could be anywhere." That jerk said, his voice a mixture of annoyance and concern. And really, screw him for pitying the guy, he should’ve just shrugged it off. “Help me find him before he gets himself into trouble, or worse, causes trouble.”

So, here he was, running around the entire campus like a headless chicken, searching for one kid that seemed to have just shrunk into atoms. Hell, here he was, a pro hero trained to handle all sorts of dangerous situations, reduced to playing babysitter for a troublesome teenager. Free of charge as well!

He had already checked the cafeteria, the training grounds, even the rooftop (twice!), but there was no sign of Monoma. It was as if the kid had vanished into thin air, leaving behind nothing but a trail of confusion.

He rubbed his temples trying to stave off the impending headache. He was about to resort to interrogating random students after asking a few of Monoma's classmates, none of them seeming to have any clue about his whereabouts. Some were indifferent, others genuinely worried, and a few couldn't suppress their smirks. And he would be lying if he said it didn’t cause his anxiety to spike.

When he spotted Aizawa lurking in the shadows, his signature sleeping bag draped over his shoulders like a cape, it was like seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.

“Hey, Aizawa!” He called out, jogging to catch up with the other teacher.

Eraserhead glanced over his shoulder, his expression flat as he continued walking without acknowledging his presence. Okay? Rude?

Undeterred, Snipe quickened his pace, falling into step beside him. “Have you seen Monoma anywhere? The kid went AWOL and Vlad is freaking out.”

The walking caterpillar didn’t even bother to look at him as he muttered, “Not my problem,” before disappearing around the corner.

He stared after him, dumbfounded. Well, that was helpful. It seemed like he was truly on his own then.

Aizawa was a fucking train. Not a guiding light.

So the search continued. And Snipe was slowly going crazy.

"Where the hell are you?" He muttered under his breath, his footsteps echoing against the cold linoleum floors.

With each passing corridor, Snipe swore he caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye. A flicker of shadow darting around the corner, a rustle of clothing disappearing down a side passage. Each time, his heart leaped with hope, only to plummet when he found nothing but empty hallways.

It was maddening. Every time he thought he had Monoma cornered, the slippery student seemed to vanish into thin air, leaving Snipe grasping at shadows.

"Monoma, if you're playing games with me, I swear." Snipe growled, his frustration reaching its boiling point. He was beginning to wonder if Monoma had copied some sort of quirk that allowed him to teleport or turn invisible – anything to explain his uncanny ability to evade capture.

The kid was fucking outsmarting him. And he had to say, he had a knack for slipping through the cracks unnoticed, his sheer determination to cause chaos wherever he went probably being the main drive.

As the hours dragged on, Snipe's resolve began to waver. Maybe he should just give up the search and leave Monoma to his own devices. After all, what harm could one troublemaking student really do?

But then he remembered the havoc Monoma had caused in the past, the clashes between Class 1-A and Class 1-B fueled by his taunts and provocations. No, Snipe couldn't afford to let the kid roam free, not when the stakes were so high.

With renewed determination, Snipe squared his shoulders and pressed on, every shadowy corner another opportunity to finally catch his elusive prey. He may be going crazy, but he refused to let Monoma get the better of him. Not this time.

As he rounded another corner, his eyes caught a glimpse of movement. Could it be? Was that a flash of blonde hair disappearing into the shadows? Without hesitation, Snipe quickened his pace, determination burning in his veins.

"Monoma!" he called out, his voice echoing down the hallway. But there was no response, just the eerie silence of the empty school building.

What he didn’t realise yet, was that finding Monoma was only the beginning – the real challenge would be figuring out what to do with him once he was found.

In his poor defence, he wasn’t aware that keeping tabs on Takami, Bakugou, Shinsou, and the unexpected addition of Monoma was practically a survival skill at UA.

It’s been hours since his conversation with Vlad and he was so fucking close to printing and glueing missing person’s posters in every corridor of the school.

With a resigned shake of his head, Snipe decided to retrace his steps once more. Maybe he had missed something the first dozen times around. As he turned to head back down the hallway, he spotted Izuku fucking Takami approaching, flanked by his usual band of misfits – Bakugou, Shinsou, and surprisingly, Monoma himself.

Snipe's jaw dropped in disbelief as he watched the quartet strut down the corridor, their voices echoing off the walls in animated conversation. What the hell was Monoma doing with them? And more importantly, where had he been hiding all this time?

"Hey, Takami!" Snipe called out, catching the attention of the group. They turned to face him, expressions ranging from curious to downright suspicious.

Izuku raised an eyebrow. "Snipe-sensei? What are you doing skulking around the halls?"

"I could ask you the same thing." Snipe retorted, his gaze fixed on Monoma. "And what's he doing here?" He pointed accusingly at the Class 1-B troublemaker, who had the audacity to smirk in response.

"I just got caught up in a riveting debate with these losers." Monoma chimed in, his tone dripping with innocence that Snipe knew was anything but genuine. "Nothing nefarious, I assure you."

Snipe blinked, trying to process what he was seeing. "I highly doubt that. You've been missing for hours, and now you're suddenly buddy-buddy with these three? Didn’t you and Takami throw hands just the other day?"

Izuku shrugged. "Eh, stranger things have happened. The fight was really one-sided as well."

“What can I say? Birds of feather flock together.” Gods, he was about to strangle the kid.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Snipe sighed, closing his eyes for a second and taking a deep breath. Big fucking mistake.

Because the kids were no longer there, only a singular jet-black feather left behind. He could feel his headache coming back.

He could also hear Vlad’s voice, loud and clearly angry somewhere behind him, calling his name.

Safe to say he read through the entire guidebook twice after coming back home and settling in his old leather armchair. And suddenly, it all made so much sense.

Chapter Text

Izuku’s moult usually hits around May and the Sports Festival which he is excused from. Do not bring up either to him. Due to the nature of his quirk, his moult is not pleasant and he will tell you about it himself if he trusts you enough. Don’t push it or he will send Hawks after you until you let it go.

Vlad hated the UA Sports Festival. Well, that was a lie. Vlad hated Aizawa around the time of the Sports Festival. Generally, there were a lot of things that infuriated him when it came to the caterpillar man but that was a long list curated over the years of having to deal with the man on a day to day basis. Which sucked .

It wasn't just the chaotic energy that filled the air, nor the constant pressure to keep the students safe amidst the fierce competition. No, what irked Vlad the most was the constant reminder of the stark divide between Class A and Class B.

Because every year, without fail, Class A would showcase their prowess, leaving Class B to linger in the shadows of their success. And really, the constant reminders of his class's shortcomings compared to Class A always rubbed him the wrong way. Especially more so now that Monoma of all people was seen hanging around the band of misfits from Aizawa’s Hell Class.

But this year, there was something else that irked him even more — the absence of Takami Izuku from the festival’s roster.

Vlad couldn't understand it. Why would a promising young hero-in-training like Izuku choose to opt out of the Sports Festival? Especially if it was the kid he had heard so much about in the last month, ever since his official acceptance into UA. It didn't make sense to him.

And so, he did what always worked with his students. Every time he spotted Izuku in the halls, Vlad couldn't help but voice his frustrations.

"Takami!" Vlad called out one afternoon, spotting the teen making his way down the corridor. "What's this I hear about you not participating in the Sports Festival?"

Izuku paused, his expression tight as he turned to face Vlad. "It's personal." He replied, his tone guarded.

Vlad frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. "Personal? You're letting your class down, Takami. This is an opportunity to prove yourselves, and you're choosing to sit it out?"

Izuku's jaw tensed, his eyes flashing with a hint of irritation. "I have my reasons, Vlad-sensei. Please respect my decision."

But Vlad wasn't one to back down easily. "Respect your decision? How can I when it reflects poorly on Class A? Class B is clearly the better class if one of Class A's star students decides to opt out of the Sports Festival."

Izuku's grip tightened on his bag strap, his patience wearing thin, his wings twitching restlessly against his back. "With all due respect, Vlad-sensei, my decision has nothing to do with Class A or Class B," he said through gritted teeth.

"Then what is it about, huh? Why won't you participate?"

"Like I said, it's personal." He repeated, his voice strained.

Vlad leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. "You know, Izuku, if you don't have a valid reason for skipping out on the Sports Festival, I'll have to report this to Aizawa. He won't be too pleased."

"I have my reasons, Vlad-sensei." He said firmly. "And I don't appreciate you prying into my personal life."

Vlad felt a shiver crawl down his spine. Takami's voice dripped with venom . Why was he getting scared of one scrawny kid?

He straightened his posture, puffing out his chest. "I understand you have your reasons, but it's my duty as a teacher to ensure all my students are participating in school activities, especially something as significant as the Sports Festival."

Izuku's gaze hardened, his jaw clenched. What was up with that kid? "I'm well aware of the importance of the Sports Festival, Vlad-sensei. But as I said, I have my reasons for not participating."

Vlad's patience was wearing thin. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, threatening growl. "Class A is supposed to represent the best of U.A. High. It's quite telling when one of its students decides to opt out of such a crucial event. It reflects poorly not just on you, but on your entire class."

Izuku's fists tightened at his sides. "With all due respect, Vlad-sensei, I don't need to explain myself to you or anyone else. My decision stands."

Vlad's expression darkened. "You may think you can just waltz through life, doing as you please, but you're mistaken, Takami. There are expectations placed upon you, expectations you cannot simply ignore."

"And who are you to dictate those expectations to me?"

With that, Izuku turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Vlad seething with frustration. He watched the young man's retreating figure, his mind racing with questions and suspicions. This wasn't over, not by a long shot. Vlad knew he had to find out what was truly going on with Takami Izuku, even if it meant confronting Aizawa himself.

Now, talking to Aizawa didn’t answer shit.

He had sought out Aizawa, hoping to uncover some insight into Takami Izuku's mysterious absence from the Sports Festival. But the moment he broached the subject, Aizawa shut him down with a glare that could freeze hell over. 

"That's none of your concern, Kan. Focus on your own students." Aizawa had growled, leaving no room for argument.

Undeterred, Vlad turned to other teachers, hoping someone would shed light on the situation. But each inquiry was met with the same response: silence or thinly veiled warnings to mind his own business. Even Present Mic, usually jovial and approachable, told him to let it go before the entire thing spiralled out of control.

He should've listened. Fuck, he should’ve listened to the man.

But Vlad couldn't let it go. The more he thought about it, the more he became convinced that there was something amiss with Takami Izuku. Class A's golden boy, opting out of the Sports Festival? It didn't add up.

So he continued to pester Takami about his absence, like the idiot that he was. He spotted the kid in the hallway, his usual friend group by his side, black wings folded neatly against his back as he walked with purpose. Vlad quickened his pace, catching up to the young man with a determined glint in his eye.

"Takami." He called out, his voice laced with thinly veiled annoyance. "We need to talk."

The teen sighed audibly, turning to face Vlad with a guarded expression. He could see the rest of the kids eyeing him warily before continuing down the hall after Takami’s dismissal. "What is it now, Vlad-sensei?"

Vlad crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze piercing. "I want to know why you're not participating in the Sports Festival. And don't give me that excuse about having your reasons. I deserve to know the truth."

Izuku's eyes narrowed, a flicker of irritation flashing across his features. "I've already told you, Vlad-sensei. My reasons are my own. They have nothing to do with you or anyone else."

Vlad's patience was wearing thin. "Your reasons may be your own, but your actions affect more than just yourself. You're a member of Class A, expected to represent U.A. High to the best of your abilities. Your absence reflects poorly on all of us."

Izuku's jaw clenched, his voice taking on a frosty edge. "I am well aware of my responsibilities, Vlad-sensei. And I assure you, my decision not to participate in the Sports Festival is not taken lightly."

Vlad's frustration bubbled to the surface. "Enough with the cryptic answers, Takami! You owe it to your classmates, to your teachers, to at least provide some semblance of an explanation."

Izuku's gaze turned icy cold. "I owe nothing to anyone." He snapped, his tone sharp as a knife. "If you have an issue with my decision, take it up with Nezu-sensei. Otherwise, leave me alone."

And fuck , not reading the guidebook bit him in the ass that time.

[baby bird]: walking blood bag is still pestering me about SF.

 

[dad bird]: still? you didn’t tell me about this before nestling.

 

[baby bird]: thought hed let it go. he didnt

[baby bird]: i know i dont usually ask but.. can you make him stop pls. im about to skewer the man

 

[dad bird]: omw, eta t minus 3 minutes

 

[baby bird]: thanks dad, love u

[baby bird]: also, aizawa-san is inviting us to dinner today

 

[dad bird]: love u 2 baby bird

[dad bird]: also why? what did u do

 

[baby bird]: raser found out me and toshi started dating, gave me THE shovel talk after our ethics lesson, he and mic want to meet u outside of hero work but didnt want to bother u with a text cuz u were on patrol

 

[dad bird]: cool w/ me. tell small zawa to expect one from me too

 

[baby bird]: DAD NO

[baby bird]: also stop texting while ure flying, ull faceplant into the billboard again

 

[dad bird]: DAD YES

[dad bird]: cheeky little shit. i’ll throw u into a billboard if u don’t stop bringing this up

Vlad sat in the teachers' lounge, nursing his irritation like a festering wound. It had been days since his encounter with Takami Izuku, and still, he had no answers. The boy's stubborn refusal to divulge the reason for his absence from the Sports Festival gnawed at Vlad's insides, fueling his frustration.

The peaceful ambiance of the lounge was shattered when the door swung open with a bang, and in strode Hawks, his presence commanding the attention of every teacher present. Vlad felt a ripple of unease pass through the room as the other teachers sent him pitying looks, as if they knew something he didn't.

Because, what the hell was the top 3 hero doing here?

Hawks’ eyes locked onto Vlad's, and there was a dangerous glint in them that made his blood run cold. Without a word, Hawks marched over to where he sat, his expression a mixture of anger and concern.

"Vlad." Hawks said, his voice low and threatening. "We need to talk. Now."

He felt a bead of sweat form on his brow as he rose from his seat, following Hawks out of the lounge and into the conference room adjacent to it. The other teachers filed in behind them, leaving Vlad feeling like a lamb being led to slaughter.

Maybe he was.

"What's this about, Hawks?" He felt the tension in the room, he would be a fool if he didn’t.

"I know you've been pestering my kid about the Sports Festival," he said, his tone laced with barely concealed anger. "And I want you to stop."

Fuck?

Vlad's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Your kid?" he echoed, confusion marring his features.

Hawks nodded grimly. "Takami Izuku. He's my son."

Fuck. Because of course he was. How did he not realise that sooner?

"I had no idea." Vlad stammered, his voice betraying his shock. "I never meant to cause any trouble."

"That doesn’t matter." He said, his tone firm. "I'm telling you and I’m still being nice about it Vlad, leave him alone. His reasons for not participating in the Sports Festival are his own, and he doesn't need you breathing down his neck about it."

Vlad swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. He had never seen this side of Hawks before, hell, he didn’t know the guy had a serious bone in his body.

Double fuck.

"I understand," Vlad said finally, his voice tinged with remorse. "I'll leave him alone."

Hawks nodded, a flicker of approval crossing his features. "Good. Because if I hear that you've been bothering him again, you'll have me to deal with. And trust me, you don't want that."

A shiver ran down Vlad's spine at the thinly veiled threat. Hawks was not a hero to be trifled with, and Vlad knew better than to underestimate him.

"But that's not all." Hawks continued, his voice low and dangerous. "If you so much as lay a finger on my kid again, not even the Commission will be able to protect you. I'll hunt you down myself, and believe me, I won't be gentle."

Yeah, Kan read the guidebook after that. Three times. And pinned it on his fridge. Aizawa was fucking right.

[dad bird]: took care of the blood bag

 

[baby bird]: thanks dad, ure the best

 

[dad bird]: anything for my sprout

[dad bird]: btw mitsuki msged me. she said masaru offered to stock u up with his homemade curry for the moult if u want some

 

[baby bird]: UNCLES MASARU CURRY? SIGN ME THE FUCK UP

 

[dad bird]: language young man but. yeah i agree, been craving some myself. i’ll msg her and say we gladly accept the gracious offer

 

[baby bird]: wait. does that mean ure staying home with me? dont u have stuff to do in the agency?

 

[dad bird]: you know i’d do anything to escape paperwork (> . ✩) it’s not like i can be on call either so. at least a week with my birdie it is

 

[baby bird]: sick. kacchan said hell come over after SF too, he wanted to see auntie rumi again. yk. check if her old bones are still intact

 

[dad bird]: i’ll tell her u said that. we’re not that fucking old

 

[baby bird]: language dad bird, youre a bad influence

[baby bird]: also ure both almost in ur 40s. ure ancient

 

[dad bird]: oh i’ll show u ancient when we get home. you’re running laps in the gym today mister

[baby bird]: fuck me ig

Chapter Text

If you notice Izuku has gone silent and alert/started circling the same spot for a while in the air, be concerned. Call for backup and try to pinpoint what’s exactly wrong. If you can’t, good luck, and try not to die until backup arrives.

Excitement buzzed through the air as Class 1-A arrived at the USJ for their training exercise, lively and animated chatter filling the silence. Some of the students visibly thrilled, their faces lit up with anticipation, others exuding nervous energy, their enthusiasm tinged with apprehension.

Aizawa had a knack for reading people, honed over years of experience as both a hero and a teacher. He could sense the underlying emotions simmering beneath the surface, discerning the subtle shifts in demeanour that spoke volumes about each person's state of mind.

And he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Takami, who was always brimming with enthusiasm and curiosity, stood at the edge of the group, his eyes fixed on the empty field before them. 

Takami’s silence was unnerving, especially for someone usually so vocal and full of energy. 

Aizawa approached him cautiously, his sharp eyes analysing every subtle movement. The air around Takami felt heavy with an unspoken tension, and he knew better than to dismiss it as mere nerves. He could see the ink-black feathers twitching and fluttering slightly. 

Whatever it was that captured his attention, it was bad.

"Takami." He called out, his voice low and commanding. The teen didn't respond immediately, causing a ripple of concern to wash over Aizawa. "Raven." He repeated, this time with a more assertive tone.

Takami snapped out of his reverie, turning his attention to Aizawa. His usually vibrant gold eyes now held a storm of emotions.

"What's bothering you, kid?" Aizawa asked, keeping his voice calm. Takami hesitated, glancing back at the empty field before meeting his gaze.

"Try calling for backup. Right now." Takami whispered urgently, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. He reached under his shirt and pulled on a chain, a subtle movement that caught Aizawa's attention. He could barely see a singular red feather, tied neatly at the end. "Something feels wrong."

Without questioning, Shouta reached for his communicator, keying in the emergency frequency.

Static. No response.

"Signal jamming.”

Takami's eyes widened, his mind racing to comprehend the implications. "Jamming? But who would—"

Before Izuku could finish his sentence, he felt a sudden tension in the air. He clenched his fists, three black feathers appearing in his hand. With a swift motion, Izuku shot them towards the main plaza, all of them hitting the ground in front of a figure slowly emerging from one of the warp gates.

USJ was being attacked. Why the hell now, of all times?

"Stay close, and keep an eye on each other. This is not a part of the exercise, those are real villains." Shouta instructed, his stern gaze sweeping over the anxious faces of his class. "We may be on our own for now."

“Not necessarily.” Takami’s hand instinctively gripped the feather charm hanging from his neck. With a quick, deliberate motion, he snapped it in half. The feather disintegrated, its particles dissolving into a crimson mist. Aizawa raised an eyebrow. “I’ll explain later, we have other things to focus on right now.”

Shinsou and Bakugou locked eyes for a moment, silently nodding to themselves. Without hesitation, both reached for their own charms. Since when did his son have one? The cracks echoed through the air as both feathers shattered into mist.

He didn’t even have enough time to blink, leaping down and landing gracefully amidst the oncoming villains. It felt like only mere seconds passed since he left his kids near the main entrance.

And then he looked back.

Thirteen was down, all of his students disappearing with the purple mist that covered the entire upper platform. All of them but one, soaring high in the sky. He tightened the grip on his scarf, pulling hard and sending another villain into the dirt. A flurry of black feathers following soon after, hitting their mark spot on. He didn’t even realise someone was behind him.

This was very very bad.

The battle felt endless. Aizawa gritted his teeth as he fought off wave after wave of villains, his capture scarf whirling through the air with deadly precision. Beside him, Takami moved with grace and determination, his black feathers slicing through the enemy ranks with deadly accuracy. But despite their best efforts, the number of villains seemed to remain constant, like a relentless tide.

Aizawa could feel the familiar strain that came with overusing his quirk. The fabric wrapped around his elbow loosened slightly. He couldn't afford to falter now, not when the lives of his students were on the line.

They needed to finish this quickly. He didn’t really see Shigaraki charging at him, his body moving instinctively to parry the attack. 

But before Shigaraki could reach him, Takami sprang into action, black feathers slicing through the air. One by one, they pierced through the villain’s hand, halting his advance with a cry of pain. He recoiled, his rage evident as he stumbled backward, clutching his wrist.

"Nice shot kid." 

Takami glanced at him, a determined glint in his eyes. "Any minute now, sensei."

Aizawa nodded, even if he didn’t really understand what the kid meant. What he did know, is that he trusted Takami's instincts, his ability to assess the situation and anticipate the next move of their enemies. And that had to be enough for now to keep him going. But before they could formulate a plan, Shigaraki's twisted grin widened.

“By the way, hero. I’m not the last boss.”

The beast was massive, towering over him with its hand raised up, ready to attack. It was easily twice his height, sharp teeth caught in a snarl. He could hear the screams, somewhere off to his side, Shigaraki’s laugh echoing inside his head. He braced himself for the impact, knowing that facing the creature head-on would be a battle impossible to win.

But just as the creature was about to reach him, it was yanked back with incredible force. Aizawa's eyes widened in disbelief as he watched the Nomu stumble backward, restrained.

By fucking what?

Before he could make sense of the situation, a familiar voice cut through the chaos, red feathers cutting through the air, right next to his face.

"Back up is en route, they were a bit behind. You did good, Eraser."

A figure swooped down from the sky, elegant and swift. Hawks appeared on the scene. And gods was Aizawa glad that he did.

He’d have to postpone the questions about just how exactly until later.

Hawks wasted no time in taking action, sending out a flurry of feathers to attack the Nomu. The creature roared in fury as the feathers struck true, a few slicing clear through the exposed brain.

With expert precision, Hawks swooped down and grabbed Aizawa, setting him down safely on the ground. Aizawa took a moment to catch his breath, gratitude welling up within him for the timely intervention.

"Thanks, Hawks." Aizawa muttered, his voice filled with genuine appreciation.

Hawks flashed him a confident grin before turning his attention back to the battle raging around them. Well, he couldn’t fall behind that much, could he?

[dad bird]: baby bird? everything alright? you snapped the feather

(not delivered)

[dad bird]: ??? phone calls are not getting through either, what the hell is going on izuku? i’m on my way to UA

(not delivered)

[dad bird]: kats and mini zawa also snapped theirs, what the hell is going on??

(not delivered)

[dad bird]: just called mic. they’re en route to USJ, i’ll probably get there before them. three minutes till i’m there.

(not delivered)

[dad bird]: please be safe izu

(not delivered)

The battle became pretty one-sided after that. With Hawks joining the fray, his swift movements and precise attacks turned the tide in their favour. Aizawa watched with a sense of relief as the villains were pushed back, their ranks thinning under the combined efforts of the heroes. He could hear Shigaraki angrily ordering the retreat.

As the dust settled and the last of the villains were subdued, he took a moment to catch his breath. He glanced over at Takami, relieved to see him standing mostly unscathed amidst the wreckage. Hawks approached them, a look of concern flickering across his usually composed expression.

"Hey nestling, you alright?" Hawks asked, his voice laced with genuine concern as he quickly checked Izuku over for any injuries.

Like a mother hen.

"I'm fine, dad bird." Izuku replied, offering a reassuring smile. "But did you notice that hum?"

Hawks' eyes widened in surprise, a proud grin spreading across his face. "You caught it too?"

"Yeah." He replied, nodding. "Pretty sure it starts right before a warp gate opens. I could hear it when we walked into the facility."

"Good catch, hatchling." Hawks praised, placing a hand on his son's shoulder.

Izuku nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Thanks, dad."

The students slowly began to gather at the plaza, mostly unharmed save for a few scrapes and signs of exhaustion. Aizawa took a moment to catch his breath, sitting down on the ground as he surveyed the scene before him. His students, though weary, wore expressions of triumph and relief. They had faced danger head-on and emerged victorious.

Damn, maybe Hizashi was right. They were his kids.

Before Aizawa could fully relax, however, he noticed his son come running full speed towards Takami, his expression a mix of concern and frustration. "You asshole! What were you thinking?" Shinsou exclaimed, his voice tinged with worry. “I’m putting you on a leash! Even better! I’ll have you fucking microchipped!”

Aizawa couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of his son, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. 

A tired but genuine smile spread across Takami’s face. "I'm fine, Toshi. We all are."

Shinsou rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Just don't scare me like that again."

"Good work out there." Hawks said, offering a nod of approval to Aizawa.

He nodded in return. "Thanks. Couldn't have done it without your timely assistance."

Hawks waved off the praise modestly, but there was a glint of pride in his eyes. "Just doing my part. You and my baby bird handled yourselves admirably."

Before they could delve further into conversation, the arrival of additional pro heroes drew their attention. Aizawa watched as the familiar figures of his colleagues from UA made their way towards them, their expressions a mix of relief and concern.

Present Mic was the first to reach them, his loud voice cutting through the chaos. "Sho! Are you okay?" He exclaimed, worry evident in his tone as he knelt on the ground and pulled Aizawa into a tight embrace.

"I'm fine, Zashi. Just a little tired." He replied, his voice soft but filled with affection.

Yamada pulled back, his eyes scanning Aizawa's face for any signs of injury. Satisfied that his husband was unharmed, he turned to Hawks, gratitude shining in his eyes. "Thanks for the assist, Hawks. We owe you one."

"Just doing my job, Mic.” Hawks waved off the thanks with a nonchalant shrug. “Glad I could lend a hand.”

Aizawa raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "How did you even know we were under attack? All of our distress calls were being jammed."

Hawks grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Ah, well, that's where these little guys come in." He said, reaching up to touch the feathers on his wings. "Izu, small you, and Katsuki snapped the feathers from my wings. Let’s just say they're our own personal distress signal."

"Smart."

“Well, it was the first time Izuku used his since he was 13. So let’s just say I had the time to cool off a bit when I was rushing here.” He rubbed a sore spot on his neck. “I thought it was a fluke, you know? At the end of the day, they’re a bit fragile. But then I felt the other two and realised the messages I sent to him weren’t going through either.”

“You two good? Sounds like a recent thing.” Leave it to Hizashi to wear his heart on his sleeve. “Don’t feel pressured to answer that one by the way.”

“Yeah, nothing to worry about now.” He shrugged. “Just Inko being a pain in the-” 

Before Hawks could finish his sentence, he was cut off by Takami throwing his arms around him in a tight hug. The sudden embrace took Hawks by surprise, but he quickly returned it, his arms enveloping his son in a warm embrace, his wings following soon after.

It looked like the kid was drowning in the sea of red.

Aizawa and Yamada watched the heartfelt exchange between father and son, their hearts swelling with a mixture of relief and admiration.

"Hey, hatchling." Hawks murmured, his voice soft with affection. "I'm glad you're safe."

Izuku pulled back, a bright smile lighting up his face. "I'm glad you're safe too, Dad." He replied, his eyes shining with gratitude.

Hawks ruffled Takami's hair affectionately before turning to them with a sheepish grin. "Sorry about that." He said, his tone apologetic. "Family comes first, you know?"

Aizawa chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "No need to apologise, Hawks. We understand." He replied, a hint of fondness colouring his words. “Frankly, I’m hurt Hitoshi hasn't come running to hug me yet.”

“About that-”

Before Takami could say another word, a blur of movement caught his eye, and suddenly, he found himself tackled to the ground by none other than his son. Aizawa let out a surprised grunt as he wrapped his arms around Hitoshi, pulling him into a tight embrace.

"Hey there, old man." Shinsou teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he squeezed his father tightly.

“Hey yourself, sprout.”

Watch and learn Vlad, that’s why you follow the fucking rules.

Chapter Text

Do not bring up his mother. Asking about Hawks is just fine, but they both draw the line when it comes to his mother.

Yamada Hizashi didn't get stressed often. He was the epitome of cool, the maestro of merriment, the very embodiment of laid-back vibes. But when it came to family dinners, especially ones where unexpected guests were involved, even the most carefree radio host could feel the pressure mounting like a heavy bassline building up to a drop. Today, stress was his middle name, his first name, his last name – stress was Yamada Hizashi.

Picture this: Aizawa Shouta, his ever-casual and perpetually tired husband, was slouched on the couch, engrossed (for the first time in his fucking life) in a pile of ungraded homework assignments, completely unfazed by the chaos unfolding around him. Their son, Hitoshi, was probably upstairs, doing... whatever it was teenagers did these days.

But the real source of Yamada's anxiety? Izuku Takami, his son's boyfriend, and none other than Pro Hero Hawks were meant to join them. Now, having dinner with your son's significant other and his VERY famous father might sound like a breeze to some, but to Yamada, it was a recipe for disaster.

He took a deep breath, trying to quell the rising panic in his chest. Chicken soboro don. That was the plan. Simple, yet delicious. What could possibly go wrong?

"Sho, could you please check on Hitoshi and make sure he's not interrogating the cat again?" He called out, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation.

The man emerged from the living room, his signature scowl firmly in place. "He's fine. He's just reading in his room."

Yamada nodded, relief flooding through him. At least one thing was going smoothly tonight. Now, if only he could get the chicken to cooperate. As he chopped vegetables with slightly more force than necessary, he couldn't help but replay every possible scenario in his mind. What if Hawks thought the chicken was too dry? What if Takami hated the dish? What if—

"Hizashi, relax." Aizawa said, appearing at his side and gently placing a hand on his shoulder. "They're not here to judge your cooking skills. The kid will probably eat anything you put out in front of his eyes."

"Easy for you to say." Yamada muttered, shooting his husband a sideways glance. "You're not the one responsible for feeding the entire table."

"You know, Pops, if you're feeling overwhelmed, we could always order takeout."

Yamada shook his head fervently, a determined glint in his eyes. When did the little shit even get down? "No way, kiddo. This dinner is happening, and it's going to be legendary."

At least he hoped so.

With a deep breath and a forced smile, he made his way to the door, mentally preparing himself for the whirlwind that was about to enter his home. As he swung the door open, he was met with the dazzling sight of Hawks and Takami standing on the doorstep, both sporting their signature smiles.

"Welcome, welcome!" Yamada exclaimed, trying his best to exude warmth and hospitality despite the nerves knotting his stomach. "Come on in, dinner's ready!"

Hawks breezed into the room with an easy grace, his presence filling the space effortlessly. "Thanks for having us, Yamada-san." He said, flashing a grin that could rival the sun. "My little hatchling has been raving about your cooking all week."

Yamada felt a surge of relief at the compliment, his worries momentarily forgotten as he led their guests to the dining table. The atmosphere was surprisingly light and jovial, with Hitoshi and Takami exchanging playful banter while Aizawa observed the chaos with a fond, if exasperated, expression.

As they settled into their seats, Yamada couldn't help but steal glances at Hawks, who was eyeing the plates with undisguised curiosity. "Dig in, dig in!" Yamada urged, trying to suppress the urge to fidget under Hawks' scrutiny.

To his immense relief, the man took a bite and his face lit up with delight. "This is incredible!" he exclaimed between mouthfuls, earning a satisfied grin from Yamada.

He beamed, feeling a swell of pride at the praise. "I'm glad you like it."

As the evening wore on, the line between host and guest blurred until it felt like they were all just one big, dysfunctional family. Conversation flowed easily as they ate, with topics ranging from hero work to the latest gossip in the hero community. Despite his initial apprehension, Yamada found himself relaxing in the company of their guests, the tension slowly dissipating with each passing minute.

“So Hawks—”

"Nah, none of that 'Hawks' stuff tonight. Call me Keigo. We're off duty, remember? Especially since calling me ‘Takami’ would just be confusing."

"Keigo it is, then. I expect you to call me Hizashi from now on too." He blinked in surprise, a small smile appearing on his face. “So, found any new interesting fan theories that caught your eye?”

Hawks chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair. "Oh, you know, the usual stuff. Apparently, according to some tabloid, I've discovered the secret to eternal youth. They’re still convinced I’m in my early twenties. Who knew?"

Yamada burst into laughter, nearly spilling his drink in the process. "Ah, yes, the eternal youth theory! It's a classic. I've lost count of how many times I've had to convince people I work with that you're actually pushing forty."

Aizawa snorted from his place at the table, shaking his head in amusement. "You'd think they'd do their research before printing nonsense like that. Then again, I suppose truth isn't as juicy as fiction."

Takami and Hitoshi exchanged knowing looks, silently agreeing to retreat to Hitoshi's room for some much-needed privacy. With a polite excuse, they excused themselves from the table, leaving the trio of adults to continue their conversation. Keigo eyed them with a raised brow, picking up his mug from the table, holding it near his lips.

“So, now that the chaos kids are off and away, I was hoping to discuss something with you two tonight.” Said Hawks, his tone serious, cutting through the air like a knife.

Yamada felt a knot form in his stomach. He exchanged a quick glance with Aizawa, whose typically stoic expression now betrayed a hint of concern.

"Of course, Keigo." Aizawa replied, his voice steady despite the underlying tension in the room. "What did you want to discuss?"

Hawks took a moment to collect his thoughts, his gaze flickering between him and Aizawa. "It's about Izuku," he began, his tone measured. “Well, his mother really. I trust you both as his teachers. I also hope that this conversation will stay between us and won’t leave this table.”

Yamada felt his blood run cold. “Of course.” 

“I met Inko for the first time when I was 21.” He started, his voice even and serious. “I was an underground pro hero for two years at that point, young and stupid really. Saved her from a pretty bad-looking mugging, handed her off to the police to get a statement, and left. Didn’t really think anything of it at the time, just a normal civilian I helped kind of thing. Well, I was fucking wrong.”

He could hear his husband snort.

“She always seemed to get into trouble after that. Saw her every day on patrol, then saved her, she thanked me and we talked a bit. I honestly should’ve noticed something was wrong when we got to two weeks of ‘meeting’ every day.” And Yamada really didn’t like where this was going. “It’s important to say that at that time I was still recovering from a bad case of a fire quirk that went rogue, almost all of my feathers got burnt off and she didn’t know what my quirk was exactly. We exchanged contact info, started meeting when I was off call, it escalated pretty quickly from there.”

Yeah, he really didn’t like where this was going.

“She was pretty much the only person that ever found out what my civilian name is, honestly a mistake on my end, I was adamant on keeping it private after that shitshow. We slept with each other at some point a few times, never got into a committed relationship.” He could feel Keigo’s sigh in his bones. “Didn’t see each other for a while after that. We were meant to go out for coffee one day, she saw my wings and completely freaked out. Basically cut contact right there, on the spot.”

“Quirkist asshole?”

“Pretty much. Found out that she really despises mutant quirks. I just changed my number after that, never really gave it to anyone, and never updated it I suppose. Completely slipped my mind at the time. In hindsight, she probably wanted to tell me she was pregnant that day. Guess seeing my wings made her change her mind. I didn’t know Izu existed until six years later.”

10 YEARS AGO

It was the kind of day that Takami would've loved to snooze through - the sun was lazily streaming through his curtains, the birds outside chirping like they had nothing better to do. Little did he know, his day was about to take a dive into the deep end of the bizarre.

Now, let me paint you a picture of Hawks at 3 PM: disheveled feathers, a sleep mask hanging around his neck like a bizarre piece of jewellery, and one wing tucked awkwardly under his head as he snored away. Yes, the life of an underground hero wasn't always glamorous, especially when your alarm clock was set to 'who needs it?'

Cue the phone call.

It rang shrilly, piercing through the haze of his dreams like a siren. Takami groaned, slapping around blindly for the offending device. Finally seizing it, he muttered a half-hearted, "Hello?" into the receiver, expecting a telemarketer or maybe his agency with another last-minute gig.

But what he heard on the other end wasn't a pitch for life insurance or a new urgent case. No, it was something far more perplexing.

"Keigo Takami?" Came a voice, crisp and professional, yet tinged with urgency.

"Yeah, speaking." He mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the back of his hand, his head not really registering anything . Like why this random caller knew his civilian name. "Who's this and why're you ringing me at this ungodly hour?"

"This is Doctor Kabashima from Musutafu General Hospital. We have a situation here, and you're listed as the emergency contact for a patient currently under our care."

He blinked. Emergency contact? That was news to him. He didn't remember signing up for any of that responsibility. "Uh, okay. What's the situation?"

"It's about your son, Takami-san."

Hawks froze. His son? Since when did he have a son? Last time he checked, the only thing remotely resembling offspring in his life was the potted plant he forgot to water sometimes.

"My what now?"

"Your son, Izuku Midoriya. He's here at the hospital, and we need your consent for a surgical procedure. His guardians and primary emergency caretakers are unreachable, and time is of the essence."

Wait, Midoriya?

Inko Midoriya.

The pieces of the puzzle clicked into place with sudden clarity, and Hawks felt like he'd been struck by lightning. "Oh, fuck." He muttered under his breath.

"Takami-san? Are you still there?" The voice on the other end prompted, breaking through his reverie.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here." He replied, his mind racing a mile a minute. "Go ahead with the surgery. I'll be there as soon as I can. I am currently in Fukuoka, it might take a bit."

“Understood sir, we will be awaiting your arrival.”

After hastily throwing on some clothes and grabbing his hero gear, Takami made a beeline for the nearest train station. With wings itching to take flight, he reluctantly settled for a five-hour journey from Fukuoka to Musutafu, tapping his foot impatiently as the train chugged along the tracks.

Every minute felt like an eternity as he fretted over the well-being of his newfound son. Because what kind of father doesn't even know he has a child for gods’ sake?

Finally, the train pulled into Musutafu Station, and he practically leaped off the platform, his wings twitching with anticipation. He didn't bother with public transportation or taxis; he took to the sky, soaring above the bustling city below until he reached the towering structure of the General Hospital.

Bounding through the doors, he hurried to the reception desk, where he flashed his hero ID with a sense of urgency. "I'm here for Izuku Midoriya," he announced breathlessly, his heart pounding in his chest like a drumbeat.

The nurses exchanged a glance before one of them nodded in understanding. "Right this way, Takami-san." She said, leading him down a maze of corridors with practised ease.

Pushing open the door, he stepped into the room, his eyes immediately seeking out the figure lying in the hospital bed. The kid looked so small and fragile, surrounded by machines and monitors that beeped and whirred in a constant symphony of sound.

"How is he?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he approached the bed, his heart clenching at the sight of his son's pale face.

"He's stable for now." The nurse said, her tone gentle but firm. "The surgery went well. We had to re-break and set the bone in his wing, but he should make a full recovery with proper rest and rehabilitation."

Takami let out a sigh of relief, his wings sagging with the weight of the tension that had been building inside him since that fateful phone call. "Thank you."

“I will leave you two alone, call for us when he wakes up, he should be up and about soon.”

Fucking hell.

As the minutes ticked by, Izuku began to stir, his eyelids fluttering open to reveal drowsy, golden eyes blinking up at him with confusion. "Where… am I?" He mumbled, his voice hoarse from disuse.

Holy shit, the kid was a carbon copy of him.

He felt a lump form in his throat as he took in the sight of his son , still so young and innocent, unaware of the bombshell that was about to be dropped on him. "You're in the hospital, kiddo." He said gently, trying to keep his voice steady despite the turmoil churning inside him.

Izuku frowned, his brow furrowing in confusion as he struggled to make sense of his surroundings. "Hospital? But why…?"

Takami hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest as he grappled with how to broach the subject. "I’m not quite sure." He said carefully, choosing his words with precision. "But don't worry, you're going to be okay."

Izuku's eyes widened in realisation as fragments of memory began to filter back into his consciousness. "Oh." He murmured, his gaze drifting to the heavily wrapped wing. "I remember now. My wing…"

"Yeah, it got injured." He said softly, his heart aching at the sight of Izuku's confusion. "But the doctors fixed it up real nice. You're going to be back to flying in no time."

Izuku's eyes widened in wonder as he looked up at him, his expression one of pure innocence and curiosity. "You… you're not a doctor, though." He said, his voice trailing off as he took in Hawks' distinctive appearance — the vibrant red feathers, the wings that seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly light.

He felt a knot form in his stomach as he braced himself for the inevitable question — the one he'd been dreading since the moment he walked into this room. "No, I'm not." He admitted, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to meet Izuku's gaze. "I’m guessing your mom never told you about me?"

He saw the kid shake his head. Well, might as well rip off the bandaid.

"Me and the doctors that called me earlier today think that I'm your dad."

For a moment, there was silence, broken only by the steady beep of the heart monitor and the muffled sounds of the hospital outside. 

And then, to his astonishment, Izuku broke out into the biggest grin he had ever seen, his eyes sparkling with joy and disbelief. "You have wings!" He exclaimed, his voice filled with wonder as he reached out to touch the feathers that adorned Hawks' shoulders. "Just like I do! I knew mom was wrong!"

His heart stuttered in his chest, a mixture of emotions swirling within him like a tempest. Confusion, disbelief, and fierce, protective anger all battled for dominance as he struggled to process Izuku's words.

"What do you mean, kiddo?" He asked, his voice gentle yet tinged with apprehension.

Izuku's smile faltered slightly as he withdrew his hand, his gaze dropping to his lap as he twisted the fabric of his hospital gown between his fingers. "Mom always said that only bad kids have wings." He explained softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "She said that you didn’t want me before I was even born — that's why I have wings."

He felt as if he'd been punched in the gut, the air fleeing from his lungs in a rush as the weight of Izuku's words settled over him like a heavy cloak. His feathers bristled with indignation, a fiery rage burning bright beneath his calm exterior. But despite the seething anger that threatened to consume him, he forced himself to maintain a facade of calm, his wings folding tightly against his back as he reached out to gently grasp Izuku's hand in his own.

"Izuku." He said softly, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him. "I want you to know that none of what your mom said is true. I didn't abandon you — I didn't even know you existed until today."

Izuku looked up at him, his eyes wide with disbelief as he searched his face for any sign of deception. "Really?" He whispered, his voice trembling with uncertainty.

He nodded, his heart breaking at the sight of his son's pain. "Really." He confirmed, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I'm so sorry that you had to go through all of this alone. Was there anything else she was doing or saying?"

He had a bad fucking feeling about this. And he did not want to add a murder charge to his clean record just yet, thank you very much.

But before Izuku could respond, he noticed the way his son's gaze dropped to the floor, his fingers fidgeting nervously as if he were grappling with some hidden truth. It was as if a shadow had passed over his face, casting a pall of darkness over their conversation.

And there it was — a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach that told him there was more to this story than Izuku was letting on. "Izuku?" He prompted gently, his voice tinged with concern. "What else did she do?"

Izuku swallowed hard, his throat working convulsively as he struggled to find the words. "Mom… she always binds my wings together when we're at home." He admitted reluctantly, his voice barely audible over the sound of his own shame. "But it doesn't hurt as much anymore, especially when Kacchan helps me unbind them when I’m over at Auntie and Uncle’s."

How could she do such a thing to her own child?

But before he could voice his outrage, Izuku continued, his voice trembling with suppressed emotion. "And she… she always clips my flight feathers whenever they grow back." He confessed, his words laced with sorrow. "It makes me sad, dad. I'm always dreaming of flying, but I can't get off the ground. I don’t like mom, she’s scary. Does that make me a bad kid dad?"

He felt his heart shatter into a million pieces at Izuku's words, his eyes burning with unshed tears as he pulled his son into a tight embrace, holding him close as if he could shield him from the pain of his past. "Izuku." He whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I'm so sorry. She won’t be able to do any of this soon, it doesn’t make you a bad kid."

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart hatchling.” He replied, gently ruffling Izuku's hair. “How about this, I’m going to quickly step out of the room, let the nurses check over you, and call a friend of mine really fast, he might be able to help us. I’ll be back before you know it.”

With one last squeeze of Izuku's hand, Takami reluctantly pulled away, his heart heavy with worry as he stepped out into the sterile hallway of the hospital. He fumbled for his phone, his fingers trembling slightly as he dialled the familiar number

The phone rang once, twice, before Naomasa picked up, his voice brisk and professional. "Tsukauchi here."

He wasted no time with pleasantries, his words tumbling out in a rush as he explained the situation. "Masa." He said urgently, his heart pounding in his chest. "I need you to get to the general hospital in Musutafu as soon as possible. It's a personal emergency. Room 216."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line as if the detective was still processing the urgency of his request. "Understood." He replied finally, his tone serious. “You alright?”

He nodded, even though the man couldn't see him through the phone. "Yeah, kinda. Just tell them you're there for Keigo Takami. They should let you in no problem."

"Got it." Naomasa confirmed, his voice firm. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

“Appreciate that.”

“Wait, was that your civilian name? Mōkin? M Ō KIN.”

Time seemed to crawl by at a snail's pace as he paced the hallway outside Izuku's room, his thoughts racing a mile a minute. But finally, just when he felt like he couldn't bear the waiting any longer, a familiar figure appeared at the end of the hallway — a tall, imposing figure with a determined expression on his face.

Naomasa Tsukauchi.

He felt a surge of relief wash over him at the sight of his friend, his wings fluttering with anticipation as he hurried to meet him halfway. "Masa." He greeted, his voice tinged with gratitude. "Thank you for coming."

The man nodded, his eyes scanning Takami’s face for any sign of distress. "You said it was an emergency." He said, his voice calm and steady. "What's going on?"

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the task ahead. "It's a long story." He admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I think you might be able to help us."

“So let me get this straight. You found out today that you’re a dad of a six-year-old kid, got called by the hospital to consent to a surgery you didn’t know was happening or who it was happening on, rushed to Musutafu from fucking Fukuoka in almost record time, found out your ex was severely mistreating your kid, borderline hate crime really.” Naomasa pinched his nose taking a deep breath. “You also grew attached to the kid, think that your ex was the main cause behind the break that healed wrong, and want to fight her for custody now that you know Izuku exists. Did I get that right?”

“Pretty much yeah. I know it’s a long shot but I want to try and help the kid. Dragging my ass through courtrooms? That’s the least I can do.”

“Fucking hell. I’ll help as much as I can. The first step is getting you a fucking lawyer.”

In a crowded courtroom, he stood tall and resolute, his wings held high as he listened to the judge's final verdict. With each word spoken, his heart swelled with a mix of relief and determination. After a gruelling battle, the court had ruled in his favour, granting him custody of Izuku.

As the proceedings came to a close, he stepped outside into the bright sunlight, a weight lifted from his shoulders. Waiting for him were the Bakugos, their expressions a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Mitsuki's fierce gaze softened as she extended her hand to Takami, a silent gesture of acceptance and support.

"Thank you." He said, gratitude shining in his eyes as he exchanged numbers with Mitsuki. "For the support, and giving your testimony."

Turning to Naomasa, he offered a heartfelt handshake, his voice thick with emotion. "I couldn't have done it without you." he said, his words carrying the weight of years of friendship. "I owe you one."

“Don’t you always?”

With Izuku by his side, he boarded the train to Fukuoka, a sense of peace settling over him like a warm blanket. As the train pulled away from the station, they looked out the window at the city disappearing into the distance.

“Seven years after that she resurfaced again, tried to claim I was unable to take care of a child because of my mostly nightly work hours. Probably paid her therapist top dollar to get an opinion in her favour. So I lawyered up again and—“

“You went limelight.” Aizawa cut in, looking at his steaming mug. “That’s why you asked Naomasa for help three years ago.”

“Right on the dot. Let me tell you, her expression was priceless when we finally got a date for the hearing and she found out I got placed in the top 10 shortly after my debut. Izuku was 13 at the time, and hell, the Bakugos helped out a lot with all the logistics. Mitsuki was almost seething when she saw her ex-best friend that day.” Hawks actually chuckled. “Before going public I told everyone in the agency that I’d be moving away because of a family emergency which was partially true. I was so fucking surprised when they all chipped in and handed me a hefty envelope with a cheque as my parting gift. ‘To set me up in the new city’ they said. After that, me and Izu moved from Fukuoka to Musutafu, bought the penthouse, paid off a good sixty percent of the mortgage, opened up my agency, and the rest is history.”

“Bakugous helped out?” Now that was interesting. He knew the kiddos were close, but Fukuoka was a good 5 hours away by train.

“Yeah! After I got custody of my fledgeling and the abuse came to light Mitsuki was pretty quick to drop Inko. She reached out to me, lowkey threatened me to take good care of Izuku and I just started dropping him off at their place every other weekend. I didn’t want to cut him off from his childhood best friend and they didn’t mind housing him for two days in the slightest.” There was a fond smile on Keigo’s face. “We became close friends over the years, a found family really. They dropped Kats off at my place a lot too, especially during their work trips. It went on for years before we moved and when we bought the place, they just offered to house us until it was ready. After Izu enrolled into Katsuki’s middle school, they started hanging out almost daily. And I got Masaru’s curry out of it so, a good deal really.”

“Sounds like you really care about them.”

“Yeah, I do. I’m pretty sure the first time I brought Rumi over when the kiddos were around seven, Mirko, that is, Kats blew up his notebook and Masaru almost fainted. She and Mitsuki became best friends instantly.”

As the weighty conversation with Keigo came to a close, Yamada watched as the hero slowly rose from the table, his movements deliberate and purposeful. With a silent nod, he made his way towards the staircase, the two teachers trailing behind him.

Ascending the stairs, they found themselves outside Hitoshi's room, where Takami was still seated, engrossed in conversation with their son. Keigo knocked gently on the door, and at their invitation to enter, he stepped inside.

"We have to leave soon, baby bird." Hawks said softly, his voice tinged with regret.

Takami nodded, a hint of disappointment flickering across his features as he rose from his seat. "Alright, dad. I'll get my phone."

As Takami strutted to the desk, Keigo slowly stepped out onto the balcony, the cool night air greeting him as he gazed out into the darkness beyond.

Yamada and Aizawa couldn't help but exchange amused glances as they watched him and Takami opt for the balcony exit rather than the traditional front door.

"Well, isn't this a bit dramatic?" Yamada teased, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "Using the balcony like some sort of secret agent."

The man chuckled, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Just adding a little flair to our exit, Hizashi. Keeps things interesting."

As they bantered back and forth, Hitoshi appeared on the balcony, wrapping his arms around Izuku in a tight embrace, whispering words of farewell against his ear.

"I'll catch up with you in a minute, hatchling. I need to have a word with Shinso first.” Hawks said, his tone gentle yet firm. “If you beat me to the transmission tower you’ll get to pick the next movie."

“Bet, old man.”

Once he was gone, Keigo turned to Hitoshi, his expression serious as he laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Listen, Shinso." Hawks began, his voice low but firm. "I care about my kid a lot, and I trust you to treat him with the respect and kindness he deserves. But if you ever hurt him—"

Hitoshi raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "I know, I know. You'll swoop in with your feathers blazing, right?"

Keigo chuckled, ruffling Hitoshi’s hair affectionately. "Something like that. Take care of him, alright?"

With a final nod, Hawks disappeared into the night, Hitoshi silently closing the balcony doors behind him. As they made their way back downstairs, Yamada couldn't shake the feeling of warmth that lingered in his chest.

Maybe family dinners wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Chapter Text

Aizawa’s Guidebook to (hopefully) Subdue and Conquer the Takami Demon Child:

1. Any kind of discrimination will not go over lightly. Choose your words carefully around Izuku/preferably shut up altogether if you really can’t hold some of the comments back.
2. Under no circumstance, is All Might allowed to stay with Takami in the same room without supervision. The sky itself might be about to collapse, I don’t give a shit, an adult or his flock has to be present on site.
3. Avoid causing distress, harm, or attempting to intimidate the Demon Child or anyone from his flock. In the event that the situation escalates significantly, he or any of his friends can and absolutely will call Hawks. We don’t need two birds of prey in one building. We want to prevent this scenario from happening at all costs.
4. Izuku is required to go to Nezu’s office during his free study period and mathematics classes for their private lessons. If you hear him roaming around UA at those times, assume Nezu gave him permission to. If you see him roaming around, step out of the way. Do not engage no matter what.
5. Do not go easy on him during a fight/hold back. He will only grow more agitated because he will feel like he’s not taken seriously. And that never ends well (look at rule 3 for further context).
6. Takami can go a long time sleep-less before he falls over from exhaustion. Do not try to coax him into taking a nap, it won’t work. If he cannot fall asleep after 50 hours, the caffeine ban gets lifted, but ONLY after 50 hours. Not a second earlier. Or the consequences will be dire. Before that timeframe, just keep an eye out and inform Recovery Girl.
7. If you see Takami flying around in one of the gyms during lunch period or a free period, let him. He has a valid flying permit and if he doesn’t do it at least once a day his energy levels go off the charts and he gets cranky. Not a good combination.
8. Do not bring up his mother. Asking about Hawks is just fine, but they both draw the line when it comes to his mother.
9. If someone will go out of his way and try to push his buttons to challenge him, he will finally snap and fight back. If that happens, call for: Shinsou Hitoshi, Hawks or myself (Eraserhead). Bakugo Katsuki is also an acceptable option. Do not engage or try to diffuse the situation. It’s already too late for that. Pray it won’t turn against you and run for help.
10. If you notice Izuku has gone silent and alert/started circling the same spot for a while in the air, be concerned. Call for backup and try to pinpoint what’s exactly wrong. If you can’t, good luck, and try not to die until backup arrives.
11. Izuku Takami is a RAVEN. Not a crow. Remember that, ingrain that into your brain. He can and will get very defensive about it if you mix the two.
12. If you see someone join the Takami Flock, make sure to remember who. It will save you time if you’re looking for at least one of them. Safe to assume they cause chaos and mayhem somewhere together.
13. Izuku’s moult usually hits around May and the Sports Festival which he is excused from. Do not bring up either to him. Due to the nature of his quirk, his moult is not pleasant and he will tell you about it himself if he trusts you enough. Don’t push it or he will send Hawks after you until you let it go.
14. Despite his very outgoing attitude Takami is a very private person. Do not tease him or nag him about his private relationships unless he explicitly consented to it.
15. Anyone caught trying to recreate "quirk analysis" scenes from Takami's notebook should be brought to me (Eraser). They know it’s against the rules and they know that a punishment follows for breaking them.
16. Any rumours of Izuku Takami talking in his sleep about quirks must be reported to Recovery Girl immediately for analysis. We can't risk any accidental leaks of classified information.
17. Takami is a walking encyclopaedia. Do not attempt to quiz him on every hero factoid you know. You will lose, and he will enjoy it.
18. Avoid using the phrase "It's impossible." The kid takes it as a personal challenge and will spend all night proving you wrong.
19. If Takami is taking notes feverishly during your lecture, it means one of two things: either you're incredibly captivating, or he's planning his next hero costume upgrade. Approach with caution.
20. Do not challenge him to a staring contest. His intense gaze has been known to unsettle even the most stoic of heroes.
21. If you hear enthusiastic yelling coming from the training grounds at odd hours, don't be alarmed. Don’t even bother to go and look. Trust me.
22. Do not be surprised if Takami suddenly disappears during a lesson. He might have spotted something on the horizon and decided to investigate on his own. Don't worry; he'll be back before lunch.
23. If you notice Takami staring intensely at a blank wall, don't interrupt. DO NOT. INTERRUPT.
24. Keep a lookout for stray kittens wandering the school premises. The kid has a soft spot for animals and will likely attempt a rescue mission if he spots one in need.
25. Avoid challenging Takami to a game of chess. He approaches every move with the strategic precision of a hero facing off against a supervillain and will likely emerge victorious. He will beat your ass in 3 moves, no matter how good you think you are. After over 100 matches, he and NEZU are TIED.