Archive of Our Own

Keigo shuffled his feathers nervously, and they rattled like dry leaves in an autumn wind. His gloves were off--resting in his lap--but with his wings drawn over his front, he could still hide from Touya's piercing gaze, nevermind that the older boy had asked to see his hands.

"I bet your talons are black, right?" Touya said conversationally, as if this was such a normal thing. "Like a raven's." He trailed a finger along the edge of a primary, the feathers such a deep burgundy that they w ere nearly black. "You gonna come out of there, Kei?"

"My handlers say that I'm...that I'm going to always have to keep them hidden," the ten year old said softly. "They said people would just see me as a monster." More softly still: "A mistake."

Touya rested his hands on the arches of Keigo's blood-red wings, gently easing the feathery cocoon open so that the two boys could see each other properly. "Well, I don't think you're a monster."

A watery warble. "Really?"

"Really." Touya grinned impishly. He took on of Keigo's hands in his, tipping it back and forth so that his claws caught the gym's fluorescent light. The talons were indeed as black as obsidian. "I like your talons and your fangs and your black and yellow eyes and your wings. I think heteromorph quirk s are really, really cool. Almost as cool as mine even."

Keigo rolled his eyes, gently brushing Touya's shoulder with the edge of a wing. He still couldn't bring himself to tell his friend the truth--that he wasn't exactly a heteromorph but rather that he wasn't even human, not all the way. Still though, Keigo was glad his handlers had moved him to the HPSC's Musutafu branch for his latest round of training. The children from the slums where he'd grown up had all been too afraid of him to make friends, and then after the HPSC adopted him, there hadn't been any other children around.

But now he had Touya.

**********

Housed in its Musutafu branch, the HPSC Archives were well-known both as a source of quirk training information and as a historical record of professional heroism in Japan. Pro-heroes could come and go at their leisure, and civilians were permitted by appointment. But beyond the elegant, vaguely European-styled library, rumors persisted of a second, top secret archive, typically referred to simply as the sub-Archive. It was where the Commission supposedly kept information so high-risk that digitizing it wasn't even allowed, the better to prevent hacking or data leaks. The HPSC denied such claims, pointing to the "Restricted" section of the regular archive. Some information could be sensitive, but they had nothing to really hide.

Dabi smirked at the thought--he'd been to the Archive a few times as a child, brought along by his father. Every time he'd snuck off to find the secret archive, and every time he'd been caught and lectured for his childish imaginings.

And now here he was. Nothing to hide, indeed.

Dabi's thick combat boots echoed faintly down the long narrow room as his fingers ghosted over the spines of various-sized metal boxes, neatly alphabetized by name or incident. The Commission's sub-Archive was vastly smaller than the main one, but it still took the villain a minute to find the file he was looking for: a thick, book-sized container with "Todoroki Enji" neatly labeled along its spine.

The arsonist shivered with excitement. Finally all of Endeavor's secrets at his fingertips. How deep did the corruption of hero society go? Had Endeavor just been so discrete in abusing his family, or had he had help? What kind of nasty things did the HPSC cover up and hide away in their little steel boxes?

Crouching on the bare concrete floor, Dabi popped the lid off and pulled out a manila folder. Laying it out on the ground, he began to take pictures with his phone as he skimmed the contents. His manic smile pinched painfully as he read. Fucking shameless, Endeavor and all the Commission stooges. Faintly, Dabi was aware that he was smoking. He would have his day though. If this League thing worked out, Dabi would use them and their resources to bring all of Endeavor's dark secrets into the light before he finally killed the man with his own hands.

The villain was nearly through the file when an impatient cough sounded a short ways away.

"Dabi," Kurogiri said sternly, a warning.

The fire user waved vaguely in the other man's direction. "Yeah, yeah, I'm almost done." This little field trip was something of a League of Villains "sign-on bonus". After agreeing to throw his lot in with the League--at least for their madcap hero training camp caper--Dabi had demanded information about the Commission as payment. Shigaraki's sketchy sensei had provided the coordinates for the Commission sub-Archives, and Kurogiri had teleported them in. A small device was latched onto the security feed, disrupting it, but it only lasted for fifteen minutes at which point the two villains would need to leave.

Dabi slipped his phone back in his pocket, replaced the Todoroki file, and was about to turn back when a nearby file box caught his attention: "Takami Keigo".

Takami... Suddenly Dabi felt like he'd been plunged into ice, like that time when he was eight and had fallen through the koi pond in the garden one winter. Takami Keigo--the name dredged up bitter memories and old promises broken, just one more betrayal on top of a hundred others. Friendship hadn't saved Touya from Sekoto Peak any more than paternal regard had. And yet... Dabi had always wondered. He pulled the box off of its plain beige shelf.

"Dabi."

"Just a minute." There had been so much about Keigo that even Keigo hadn't seemed to know. Now Dabi could have those questions answered too, but it wouldn't do to steal the file and risk the Commission knowing that he was interested in it. Instead the younger man fumbled for his phone again, turning on the camera function with one hand as he pulled out Takami Keigo's thankfully slim file with the other hand. He wouldn't have time to even skim-read the contents now, but he could take pictures and look at them more closely later.

The file...was not what Dabi had been expecting, and he almost reconsidered just taking it. Keenly aware of the time and the danger of being caught here, the fire user flipped rapidly through the pages, but some words still jumped out at him nonetheless. Demonic summoning...how to draw a protection sigil...some kind of creature with talons that could strip flesh from bone...

"30 seconds until device burnout. I have been given permission to leave without you."

"Fucking chill, I'm coming!" Quickly the arsonist shoved the file back into its container and crammed the box back onto the shelf. "Okay, I'm--"

Dabi's stomach swooped with sudden nausea as the floor dropped out from under him. He felt like he was falling through a cloud, cool mist whipping against his face. Then just as quickly it was over. In a chilly swirl of purple mist, the two villains stepped back out into the Kamino bar. Or rather, Kurogiri stepped while Dabi stumbled into the bartop as he struggled not to heave from the sudden disorientation.

Faces swirled around the peripheral of his vision, other new League members trying to subtly get a look at Dabi and whatever he was doing. There was Toga, of course, blatantly staring, but Magne and Spinner were also watching him out of the corners of their eyes. Presumably Twice and Mr. Compress were too though it was hard to tell with their masks. At the other end of the bar, Shigaraki sat on a high stool, still except for his fingers which danced over the controls of a Ninentdo Switch.

"Enjoy your side quest?" he rasped.

"Yeah, sure," Dabi half-choked, the motion sickness finally beginning to recede. "I got the evidence I needed."

"Evidence?" Shigaraki scoffed. "If you hate Endeavor so much, just kill him. Why do you need to justify it?"

"I'm not trying to justify anything." Dabi plastered a smirk onto his face. "It's not enough to simply kill Endeavor. I need him to fall from grace first. Nothing less than total public humiliation will satisfy me."

Shigaraki rolled his eyes, the gesture partly hidden behind that freaky desiccated hand. "Whatever."

It was a clear dismissal, but that was fine. Dabi barely resisted the urge to flip him off as he stalked out of the bar and up the back stairs to a small bedroom on the second floor. His room, which was still a weird concept. When he and Toga had joined up, part of the welcome package had been two rooms at League headquarters if they wanted them. Apparently Shigaraki's mysterious sensei owned the whole building where the bar was situated. After so long of squatting in various dilapidated apartments or abandoned buildings, it felt almost strange being somewhere and not feeling the imminent risk of getting kicked out.

Flopping on the narrow twin bed, Dabi pulled out his phone and started reading through the pictures he'd taken. It was...a lot, honestly. From what Dabi could tell, Takami Keigo wasn't just a heteromorph but some sort of genuine half-demon. His mother had a psychic quirk and had been involved with all sorts of weird occult stuff before shacking up with Takami, Sr. Sometime after he'd been arrested, the Commission had apparently "acquired" Keigo. The documents went on to detail his abilities, his demonic seal, and how to control him. But the information ended shortly after that, dates stopping shortly after when he and Dabi had met. Dabi frowned, flicking back through his pictures to read them over again. How could the other boy have just disappeared from the record? Keigo had never shown up That Night, but maybe it wasn't that he hadn't wanted to and rather that he...couldn't.

But what had happened to him? The files referred to him as "the asset", but if the Commission was keeping such a creature, surely someone in the criminal underground would know. What sounded like an infernal harpy assassin should not be an easy thing to keep quiet. Was he imprisoned somewhere, and if so, could he still be summoned by the spell? But if the HPSC controlled Keigo, then would he even listen to Dabi now?

Dabi groaned, laying back on his pillow and draping an arm across his eyes. Perhaps Keigo wasn't the only one who'd broken a promise... The flame villain tucked those thoughts away for later though. Things seemed pretty stable right now with the League, and Dabi wasn't keen to risk getting the rest of his face ripped off by some bloodthirsty demon just for the sake of exhuming the past.

**********

"Hawks," the HPSC president greeted coolly as he materialized in her office.

Keigo stumbled slightly from the momentum. One second he was stepping into his kitchen, and the next he was here. "A little warning, ma'am?" he asked, trying to laugh it off. Ishikawa Masako was a formidable woman at the best of times, but it never boded well when she summoned Keigo out of the blue. Worse, his handler was standing behind the president's desk on her right. Not good. "Is everything...alright?"

President Ishikawa sighed tiredly. "Last night there was a break-in at the Commission sub-Archive in Musutafu. The intruders tried to obfuscate their presence, but a secondary security camera was able to identify two individuals. The footage please." She gestured to Keigo's handler and the older man withdrew a tablet, a video already queued up. Keigo came forward to see it better, and President Ishikawa continued speaking as it played. "As you can see, one of our intruders is Kurogiri of the League of Villains and the other is an unknown young man though with his extensive burn scarring, the Commission should soon be able to identify him. Possibly he is a new League recruit."

Keigo nodded. "Are you assigning me to track them down?" It would make sense that they'd call him in on his day off to debrief a situation like this. His shady missions had grown less frequent since he'd shot up the pro-hero billboards, but Keigo ever remained the sharpest blade in the Commission's knife box.

However, the president shook her head. "Not yet. For now, we are monitoring the League. They are a disorganized and juvenile group, and besides the failed USJ attack, they have not accomplished anything of note. Rather I have brought you here today to inform you that the files this League member accessed were Takami Keigo's and Todoroki Enji's."

Todoroki. Keigo had never seen that file, but he suspected who might feature prominently in it. Keigo wasn't fast enough to school his expression, and a sharp intake of breath gave his thoughts away as well. Touya...

The president noticed of course, eyes narrowing. "We have no reason to believe the League has any particular interest in Takami Keigo. At this time, the Commission is considering the break-in to be an information gathering attempt on our Number Two Hero and that the viewing of Takami's file was incidental. Perhaps whoever was looking recognized the surname from Endeavor's arrest records. Regardless, we are informing you on the offhand chance the League attempts to contact Takami Keigo."

It made Keigo's skin crawl to think that some ragtag villains just had his seal. He resisted the urge to reach up and touch his chest where the mark had resided ever since he'd been born. "And if they do try something?"

The president folded her hands primly atop her desk. "Then we deal with it should the issue arise."

"I would like to request to see my--that is, to see Takami Keigo's file. And Todoroki Enji's."

"Request denied. No slip-ups, Hawks." She reached up to tap a finger warningly over the amulet she was currently wearing around her neck.

The action sent a shiver down Keigo's spine, like someone walking over his grave. "Ma'am, that isn't necessary. I'm in agreement with the Commission on the situation--"

She steamrollered over him easily. "We do not think the League of Villains knows quite what they've found, and even if they do, the chances of them having the occult knowledge to make contact with you is unlikely." She pursed her lips in displeasure. "That being said...if the League or anyone else does try to make another amulet, you are to inform us. That is an order."

"As you wish," Keigo replied through clenched teeth. "Is that all?"

"Yes, you may go."

Two angry strides took him to the window which he yanked open before jumping out. He was too fast for either human to order him to wait and use the door, but it wouldn't have stopped the president from simply summoning him back to the office; she'd done it before.

Brisk autumn air caught Keigo in a welcome embrace, and he let himself drop like a stone for a few precious moments before spreading his wings. With only a few powerful beats of his wings, he was aloft and rapidly soaring over the Tokyo skyscrapers. There was no ping to his cellphone and no tug on his bond to the amulet. It seemed that this time the president would let him have his privacy rather than snatching him back out of midair just to prove she could.

Perhaps even she felt some wisp of sympathy for her erstwhile charge. Keigo remembered when he'd first met her; she'd been kinder then. More open. Certainly she'd been one of the few people not frightened by his half-demon nature. However, that had all changed after Lady Nagant had gone rogue. Madame President had been the one to find Nagant as well, and Keigo suspected the two women had even been friends. Clearly she did not intend to make the same mistake with her new protege, preferring control over camaraderie.

Keigo let the cold, wet air soothe him, and he flapped hard, pulling himself upwards until he vanished into a cloud bank. The urge to just stop hiding for a moment--to let the glamour go--was so strong, but Keigo resisted. In his late teen years, he'd finally mastered the ability to hide is demonic appearance and look like a more or less normal human, a skill necessary for him to debut as a public pro-hero. It was the one thing Keigo could not slip up on, not even for a moment. The PR ramifications alone would be a nightmare.

Now he almost never reverted to his demonic appearance unless he was severely injured or under extreme emotional duress. HPSC conditioning had done wonders for pushing the envelope on what Hawks considered tolerable stress levels.

Still, Keigo couldn't stop one frantic, desperate thought from ricocheting around his mind: despite combing the blackened slopes of Sekoto Peak for weeks, no one had ever found Touya's body.

**********

After seeing Touya nearly every month, Keigo was upset when the other boy stopped coming with no warning. He desperately wanted to ask his handler about his friend, but... A certain trepidation stopped his tongue, a sense of unease that if Keigo showed too much interest in the other boy then he would be explicitly forbidden from seeing him again.

And so the young half-demon waited. Two months became three and then more, and it was just over half a year when Keigo was starting to lose hope. It was on a day like any other though, Keigo had finished his latest grueling training and was trudging back to his little dorm room when he passed by the Archive. Inside a boy about his age sat at one of the long wooden tables. Keigo did a double-take, not immediately recognizing the boy, but then--

"Touya!" He rushed into the room, stopping at the table where his friend sat. "Wow, your hair turned white?"

"It's stupid," Touya replied bitterly.

Keigo reached out to ruffle the fluffy hair. "It's pretty. Like snow."

Somehow that was the wrong thing to say, and Touya turned away from him, staring at the stacks of books but not really seeing them.

"Sorry," Keigo murmured though he wasn't sure what he was apologizing for. He worried at the hem of his shirt even though his handler had told him not to fidget so. Looking down, Keigo's eyes caught sight of Touya's bandaged hands and forearms. "Your arms! What happened? Did-did you get hurt training?"

Touya turned back to face him, and his eyes were watery with unshed tears. "He won't train me anymore. I'm a failure. I'll never beat All Might with this weak body, he said."

"Who said?" Shyly Keigo asked, "Endeavor-san? He brought you here though!"

But Touya shook his head. "Not to train. Mom made him bring me to the doctors here because my quirk burns me." He sniffled, swiping at his eyes with a bandaged wrist. "Hey, Keigo, would you still like me if I couldn't be a hero?"

"Of course! I-I like you best out of everyone." Keigo worried at his shirt again, curved talons threatening to puncture the fabric. "I...may not be a hero either. If I always look scary like this. That's what my handler says."

Touya seemed to buck up a little at having a partner in misery. "Then screw them, Keigo! We'll just be vigilantes instead. We can runaway together."

Keigo looked nervously from side to side before quietly confiding, "I would like that better than training here."

Touya's eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly rolled with it. "I'll come back for you then. We can leave together."

Keigo's heart swelled with affection for his friend. He didn't think the Commission would ever let him go, but the thought was nice. "Here," Keigo said softly, wincing as he plucked a feather from his wings. "If you ever truly need me, then snap this feather, and I'll come to you."

Touya took the dark feather reverently and tucked it into his pocket. "I'll find a way to take you away from here. I promise."

**********

Several months after his little break-in and the absolute clusterfuck that was the Kamino Ward battle and Dabi was reconsidering the merits of demonic intervention. Truthfully, he'd been doing research on the matter all along, but now he was bringing it to the rest of the League as well.

Spinner was, unsurprisingly, the most reluctant. Agitated, he paced the main floor of the small warehouse the League was holed up in. "How do you know this thing's not gonna just, like, kill us?"

"I don't," Dabi answered, trying to sound bored and unconcerned as he lounged uncomfortably on some old shipping crates.

"I'll stab it first!" Toga. Dabi supposed that statement meant she was in support of the summoning. More or less.

"We might as well give it a shot. You're gonna kill us all!"

"I suppose it's not the worst idea." Mr. Compress idly rolled a couple marbles back and forth across his knuckles. "If we took precautions... I believe a salt circle and so forth can act as protection from summoned infernal forces."

Dabi shot the flamboyant older man a glare. "Yeah, I know . I have been looking into this--I've been looking into it since I broke into the Commission sub-Archives. I have the supplies for the summoning circle, I carved the protection amulet--this isn't gonna be some half-assed teenage fumbling at a Ouija board. It's a good plan," he added emphatically, shooting a glance at Shigaraki seated nearby on a nother crate. The irritating debate had been going on for nearly an hour, and while Dabi was too proud to go running to the other villain for a verdict, it would have been nice if their leader would just weigh in already.

Spinner had no such qualms though. "C'mon, Boss, tell him he's crazy. Crazier than usual."

Shigaraki glanced up from his phone. "I say we try it. Doesn't sound like the rest of you have any better ideas." He glared down at the device held carefully in his hands. "And Ujiko is still giving me the run-around."

Dabi smirked--he'd take the win--while Spinner gave a pained groan, but if Shigaraki was going along with the plan then the heteromorph would too. The other League members fell into silent agreement as well, Toga and Compress even seemed somewhat eager.

Dabi let out a breath. "Alright then we'll do it tonight at midnight."

In the end it was decided that Twice and Magne would stay at the hideout while Tomura, Himiko, Compress, Spinner, and Kurogiri would accompany Dabi on his fool's errand.

Kurogiri had teleported them to a particular cemetery in a well-to-do area of Musutafu, and now the rest of the League hung back, watching Dabi meticulously set up his summoning circle.

"Does it have to be a graveyard?" Spinner complained with a shudder. "Gives me the creeps."

"Yes," Dabi lied, positioning five candles in a pentagram configuration before carefully drawing lines of salt across part of the pathway. "Now let me concentrate unless you want this circle to come out wrong."

"Todoroki Touya," Himiko said in a sing-song voice as she read the gravestone closest to them. "You must really hate Endeavor if you want to desecrate his oldest son's grave," she commented, chipper. She was clearly enjoying this excursion the most out of everyone.

Dabi grunted in response, not saying anything. He wanted... He didn't know what he wanted. With the snap of a feather, Touya had called out to Keigo that day when Sekoto Peak burned, but no one had come. Now Dabi was calling Keigo again on a cold, stone forest of gravestones. It was poetic somehow.

Please remember me. Please see me.

"Alright," Dabi said, all false bravado as he stretched and shook the tension out of his hands. "Here goes something." Pulling a sheet of paper out of his coat pocket, he unfolded it and began to read. The very formal Japanese was easy enough, the Latin less so, but the flame villain persevered. The candle flames danced before him, and the rest of the League stared holes into his back; somewhere in the distance an owl hooted. Above, the moon peeked out from behind dark clouds.

As Dabi finished reading, the five candles all flared at once, flames turning blood red before going out all together. Spinner gave a little muffled scream and latched onto Tomura's arm. Dabi stared hard at the circle, willing something--anything--to happen. He blinked and the next second a winged man was in the center of the circle.

All the air whooshed out of Dabi's lungs. It had actually worked, but would Keigo recognize him now. His own Father hadn't even recognized him. He wasn't sure he could bear it if Keigo saw him and felt nothing. Tentatively Dabi took a step forward, hand raised as if to touch the winged man. "Keigo...?"

**********

Hawks groaned, on his hands and knees, talons flexing into the dirt. One moment he'd been on patrol, catching his breath on a rooftop, and the next he was here. Wherever here was. He was vaguely dizzy with that special vertigo that only came from a summoning, but if that was the case, shouldn't he be in the Commission presidents office or some other facility? Usually her well-practiced summonings weren't this violent and uncoordinated either.

Hawks struggled to catch his breath, cool night air kissing his cheeks as he heaved and gasped. His ears and feathers caught the murmur of voices around him, none of them sounding like the president, which meant he really needed to get it together. His talons had shredded through his gloves and even his boots, and he realized with mounting dismay that he'd reverted to his full demon form.

"Keigo...?"

A quiet voice, far too unsure, drew his attention, and Keigo focused on the sound, eyes pinning to the speaker. His lips curled back from rows of serrated teeth--it was the man from the Commission sub-Archive video who Keigo now knew to be Dabi of the League of Villains. Well, shit.

In his hand was a carved metal disc, moonlight winking off the polished metal, and familiar resentment simmered in Keigo. So the League of Villains was looking for a pet demon, but oh, they had fucked up. One master was bad enough; he did not need a second one. Whoever had made the amulet had done it wrong though. The lines of the seal were slightly off, and it was plain steel, not even real silver. Uncoordinated but intent, Keigo stumbled forward and reached for Dabi's throat and--

And Dabi grasped his outstretched hand, unbothered by the talons. Piercing turquoise eyes stared at him, unflinching. Keigo sucked in a sharp breath. He knew those eyes. "Touya?"

A young woman next to them made a loud squeeing sound. "You know each other?? Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, are you Todoroki Touya? Is this your grave?!"

The fight left him instantly, but Keigo's clumsy momentum still carried him forward until he was half-tipped over and half-embracing Dabi--Touya.

"Birdie," the other man breathed against his cheek, sounding wrecked and relieved all in one, and Keigo clutched onto his coat, talons lightly kneading against the leather.

"Dammit, Dabi," a lizard heteromorph grumbled, "you didn't say you knew this guy." It was Spinner, another prominent League member and perhaps their keenest Stain devotee if reports were to be believed. And next to him was Shigaraki Tomura himself as well as Kurogiri, the Warp Villain. Toga Himiko and Mr. Compress were nearby too, all peering curiously at Keigo and Touya's little tableau.

Mr. Compress tilted his head before startling in recognition. "Your uniform!"

Touya glanced down, clearly recognizing the dirty and shredded costume too. "Wait a minute, you're Hawks? You're a pro now?"

Keigo pulled back a little, standing up and crossing his arms defensively over his chest. "Was always supposed to be, Hotstuff. That's what the Commission bought me for. I'm sure it was in my file."

Touya unbristled somewhat and stood too. "Yeah, it was. They really do control you, then? Where you go, what you do."

Keigo knew immediately what the other man was referring to. "I felt the feather break. I tried to come to you, but the Commission stopped me, and then it was too late. I'm... I'm sorry. As useless as that is."

Touya looked away, eyes on the pale stone of his own grave. "I thought you abandoned me, but I should've known better. I'm sorry I didn't try to come back for you." Turquoise eyes met sulfur yellow. "But I've got you now."

"Dabi," Shigaraki interrupted warningly. "Just because you know the Number Three Hero doesn't mean the League is going to trust him," he admonished. "It's bad enough you didn't tell us about this before the summoning."

Keigo sighed. "Hey, I'm not looking for a fight. You're the ones who called me."

"I suppose it's fine," Spinner grumbled. "We do have the amulet."

Touya looked down at his hand, suddenly seeming to remember it. "Oh yeah, about that..." Blue fire flared abruptly, encasing the flame villain's whole hand as the carved steel slowly warped and melted. Touya turned his hand over, letting the droplets fall to the ground. They hissed as they cooled in the sandy dirt.

Everyone was dead silent for a moment before Spinner threw up his hands in exasperation. "Dabi, what the actual fuck?!"

Startled, Keigo glanced from the distressed villain and back to Touya and his theatrics. Something warm slowly uncurled within his chest. "Don't worry about it. You didn't make it right anyway. Good thing I recognized you."

"What?!" Spinner looked perfectly horrified, clearly grasping the seriousness of the fight that they'd narrowly avoided.

"Shut up, Spinner." Touya's nose scrunched up in annoyance just the way Keigo remembered. The shiny piercings were new though. And nice.

The demon couldn't help but smile. "I'm just saying, I appreciate the gesture regardless. I've had a lot of people trying to control me. Nice to know that at least someone doesn't want to."

Shigaraki considered him thoughtfully. "You said ours didn't work, but you mean someone else's does?"

Keigo's smile faded. "The Commission President has one that my mother crafted. I'm not sure how exactly, but it does carry a certain...force, when she wishes it to."

Kurogiri tilted his head, calculating. "Are you allowed to tell us that? I would assume you have certain blanket orders."

Keigo managed a rueful laugh. "You'd be surprised how sloppy even smart people can be. Plus they need me to act with a certain amount of autonomy to be an effective pro-hero. At any rate, no one at the Commission has ever ordered me not to talk about my demonic nature so..."

Compress put a hand to the mouth of his mask as if scandalized. "Oh-hoh, we do enjoy some malicious compliance here."

"I've had a lot of practice," Keigo replied grimly.

Shigaraki drifted from Spinner's side and closer to Keigo and Touya. "It sounds like you'd agree that hero society is diseased and corrupted. We feel the same. And the League is recruiting, by the way."

"I don't want to hurt anyone," Keigo admitted. "Civilians, I mean."

Shigaraki scratched at his neck, considering. "But you hate the Hero Public Safety Commission, yes?"

"Yes," Keigo replied, years of repressed bitterness packed into that word. "You follow Stain's teachings don't you? The HPSC has covered up many heroes' crimes--including from some heroes I once thought were beyond reproach--while simultaneously defaming and silencing dissenters. If you could get the working amulet from the HPSC President and destroy it, I could help you expose the Commission's corruption." He eyed the gathered villains thoughtfully. "Also, I could just help in general. You all seem a little...ragged. No offense."

Mr. Compress doffed his hat with a small flourish. "If you buy us some sushi--the fancy kind--I will be ever in your debt."

Spinner scoffed. "You have no dignity." He gestured exasperatedly at Keigo. "Demon or not, he's literally a pro-hero."

"And I'm literally tired of subsisting on stolen ramen; the world is messy, my dear Spinner."

Toga skipped through both men, gleefully latching onto one of Keigo's arms. "I think we should keep you. Do you like blood?"

Keigo cleared his throat awkwardly, glancing towards Touya who was just smirking at him and being no help at all. The hero gave Toga a little shake, but when she held fast, he sighed, resigned. "I'm not supposed to like blood, but again, haven't explicitly been ordered not to."

She grinned up at him, all slitted pupils and little cat fangs. He surreptitiously tried and failed again to shake her loose. "We're going to be such good friends, Keigo. And you can tell me all about how you know Dabi. A secret love affair?"

"Enough, brat." Touya finally managed to pry her off. "We were childhood friends." However, if Touya thought this would dissuade the girl, then he was sorely mistaken. She promptly hung onto Touya instead, hitting him with a barrage of questions.

"So?" Keigo asked, slipping past the two tussling villains and directing his attention towards Shigaraki. "Am I in?"

The other man rolled his eyes. "Demon or not, you're too nice to be a villain. But yeah, we can take you on as an ally. The enemy of my enemy and all that."

"Works for me," Keigo replied, falling easily into the casual professionalism of Hawks but with more genuine warmth this time. Beside him he felt Touya's hand lightly brush against his own, pale fingers touching black talons. It felt like whispered promises, ones that might be kept instead of broken.

It felt like hope.

-end-