Chapter Text
The fluorescent overhead lighting of Hawks’ office flickered against the shiny desk in front of him. His head ached.
A small sigh came from Shouto’s lips. “Why?” The words felt slow and dry coming out of his mouth. He hadn’t had a chance to drink water after waking up—instead, he rushed straight to the agency.
Hawks leaned against his desk, stretching his fingers backward on the edge of it.
“Deku and Dynamight already have their hands full right now. Uravity’s out of town for a family emergency and Red Riot—I honestly don’t know what he’s doing,” Hawks said, tilting his head.
Shouto’s stomach dropped when he got the early-morning call. His five A.M. alarm had just gone off when his work ringtone started blaring through the still room.
A short and sweet, “We need you to come in, like, right now. Thaaaanks!” was all that was said before hanging up.
Was it a death? Was a fellow hero injured? A villain attack?
His mind raced as he drove himself to the agency, gripping the steering wheel as he desperately tried to go the speed limit despite the pit growing in his chest.
Hawks met him at the entrance and gave him a quick and vague rundown as they headed upstairs.
An undercover mission to take down one of the biggest crime rings in Japan.
After the war, crime had gone down a lot—but there was one issue that developed. Since the city had been destroyed so violently, with the heroes injured and the police force stretched thin, a resurgence of underground drug trading and crime syndicates had arisen.
Crime families who had previously been wiped out by heroes decided to prey on the weakness of the city—and jumped at the chance to start over stronger.
Iron Mirage, a particularly large gang, was birthed into Musutafu, its roots planting themselves underneath every dark alleyway and growing out into the surrounding cities. They sold drugs of all kinds, sometimes quirk-related and sometimes not.
The group was hard to track and even harder to catch, the only trace left behind being the overdoses and increased number of quirk accidents everywhere they went.
Hawks’ voice shook him out of his flurried thoughts. “So, whaddya say? You up for the challenge?”
Shouto shifted where he stood. “Of course, sir.”
“Great.” Hawks tilted his head with a smile. “But there’s a catch, buddy.”
A knock at the door. Hawks kicked himself off of the edge of his desk and waltzed over to the door of his office. He opened it with a dramatic swing.
“Ingenium.”
Shouto tensed.
Tenya stood in the doorway, his posture as straight as ever—his poise contrasting with the bags that hollowed out his face. He was dressed in his civvies. Vermillion eyes widened at the sight of Shouto.
It had been a while.
Not for any particular reason and not for a lack of care. But after the war, after graduation, after everything that had happened—they had drifted.
Shouto had lost too many people, and Tenya had lost things too. Everyone did. It was a rough couple of years following the war, and they weren’t the only two to feel the lingering ache of it.
Somewhere between Touya’s death, the collapse of what remained of Shouto’s family, and the chaos of becoming actual heroes…
Time had passed quickly and cruelly.
And neither of them reached out.
“Hawks, sir,” Tenya spoke first, stepping inside with measured strides, his voice as professional as ever. “I came as soon as you called. Is everyone okay?”
“Everyone’s fine.” Hawks ushered Tenya into the room, closing the door behind him. “Both of you, sit down.”
They did, but not before shooting uncertain glances at each other.
Shouto kept his expression flat. The last time they had talked was a year ago.
It had been after Touya’s wake. The memory made his stomach churn. Tenya had been the one to drive him home.
He had sat there, gripping the steering wheel, looking like he wanted to say something. But he didn’t. He kept his lips pressed together and his eyes glued to the road ahead of them.
And Shouto hadn’t known what to say either, so he just sat there clutching the urn that held his big brother and let silent tears fall from his eyes.
Now, they sat next to each other again, the circumstances much different than before, and the space between them felt wider than it had ever been.
Shouto broke the silence. “I thought I was going undercover.”
“You are.” Hawks took a deep breath. “Ingenium will be going with you.”
He looked at Tenya, whose face only twisted into more confusion with every passing second. Hawks’ voice dropped into something serious.
“It’s last-minute, I know. But one of our informants was killed last night. Before he died, he sent us a message about Iron Mirage’s next trade. It’s this weekend, and it’s going to be a big one.”
“Oh, god,” Tenya whispered. “How awful.”
“I know,” Hawks sighed. He gestured to Shouto. “Like I told Shouto here earlier, our initial choices for something like this aren’t available right now.”
Tenya nodded, taking it all in. “But why the two of us in particular, sir?”
“Your quirks complement each other. I’ve seen it firsthand. You’re reliable—especially together. You think I can trust someone like Chargebolt with something like this? I’d have blood on my hands.”
Hawks shook his head in frustration. “This might be our only chance to catch these guys. We need someone with brains and brawn, and that’s what you both are.”
“I understand.” Tenya’s voice was steady, but Shouto could feel the slight shift in his tone. He glanced over to Shouto, his eyebrows furrowed. “Thank you for this opportunity.”
“Okay,” Shouto said, sitting up a little straighter in his seat. “So what’s the plan?”
A small smirk grew on Hawks’ face.
“The trade is happening at a resort, just outside of the city.” Hawks pulled out a tablet, swiping through images of the location. “It’s a hotel. Fancy—big ballroom, private onsens, complimentary food—the works. It’s mostly rented out to tourists, but this weekend, there’s a convention being held there for an American company.”
Tenya frowned slightly. “So, Iron Mirage is trading with an American company?”
“Sort of.” Hawks tapped on the screen, zooming in on a map of the resort layout. “It’s a real convention and a real company, but almost none of the American employees have any clue this is happening. It’s a few of their higher-ups who are in on it. Iron Mirage is using it as cover. After all… who would suspect them in such a large group?”
Shouto leaned forward, scanning the image. He could already see the problems.
If Iron Mirage was confident enough to run a deal at a resort crawling with civilians, it meant they weren’t afraid of getting caught.
It meant they were protected.
“They’ve got a new quirk-enhancer drug that’s been selling well on the streets. Imagine Trigger times a thousand. It’s already all over Japan, but if this gets overseas—there’s no saying what might happen. This needs to end this weekend ,” Hawks said, his voice low.
Shouto nodded. “Do we have names yet? Faces?”
Hawks clicked out of the map and pulled up a photo.
“This is the head honcho. Ryusei, or Rue, Hoshizawa. 52 years old. The family used to own Hoshi’s Pharmaceuticals. We’re assuming that’s how they make their Trigger. Criminal record of robberies and quirk misuse. Quirk is unknown, but from what our informant told us, it’s scary shit. Hallucination-type, but we don’t know all the details.”
Hallucination quirks were dangerous. Too unpredictable.
He had only come across one villain with something similar early into his hero career, and it hadn’t gone well. He had been cornered in an abandoned building and seen spiders crawling under his skin, leading him to accidentally freeze the left side of his body.
Luckily, Phantom Thief had found him before any actual damage was done. And when the medics showed up, they knocked him out until the quirk’s effects had faded and the villain had been put into custody.
He internally shuddered at the memory. Shouto’s palms began to sweat as he inspected the image.
The photo was of a man, clearly a mugshot due to its quality and grain. His hair was gray and cropped short, and a long scar stretched across the plane of his wrinkled face.
Tenya leaned in next to Shouto to look closer at the tablet, and the familiar smell of mint and cologne wafted towards him. For a second, he was back in Tenya's dorm room.
Then Hawks swiped again, the tablet now showing a photo of a woman. This one wasn’t a mugshot, though; instead, it was a blurry creep shot, maybe taken from the roof of a building.
“Saeko Hoshizawa. His younger sister. 38 years old. Her quirk is similar to Mirio’s. Unfortunately for us, we don’t know her particular weaknesses. But she seems to be the brains of their little operation; Ryusei’s just the ugly face of it all.”
Shouto grabbed the tablet and pulled it closer to himself and Tenya. Her hair was dark and long, wrapped up into a braid that rested on her shoulder. Sunglasses rested on the bridge of her nose. It wasn’t the greatest photo for identification.
Tenya read his mind and said, “Is this the only photo of her, sir?”
Hawks nodded solemnly. “Yup. Tough to track, I’ve told you already.”
Shouto took it upon himself to swipe again and again. Multiple photos of different criminals, some mugshots and some not. Twenty people in all. He handed the tablet to Tenya, their fingers brushing against each other for a brief moment.
“Oh, thank you,” Tenya whispered. He pushed his glasses up and leaned in close to the screen.
Shouto looked up at Hawks. “When do we leave?”
“Tonight. I’ll give you both time to go home and pack. The trade is happening on Saturday, but we need you to be there for a plausible amount of time to avoid any suspicion.”
Tenya looked up from the tablet and handed it to Hawks. “Sir, what about our appearances? Won’t we get recognized? And—and a cover story?”
Hawks smiled. A mischievous smile that Shouto had seen so many times before, particularly right before assigning work that no one else wanted to do.
“We will provide you both with disguises. As for the cover story,” Hawks chuckled, a half-predatory look in his eyes. “You’ll be posing as a couple on their honeymoon.”
Shouto shot a glance at Tenya, whose cheeks were very red. He quickly wondered if they would be hot to the touch underneath his fingers. Suddenly, Hawks’ words sunk in.
Heat pooled in Shouto’s chest—not from embarrassment, but from the sudden realization of how close they’d have to be. He sent a mildly panicked look towards Hawks.
“Sir! I—I beg your pardon?!” Tenya stammered, shaking his head. “That seems highly inappropriate.”
Hawks face dropped as he shot a dark glare at Tenya. “People’s lives are on the line, innocent civilians. I trust that you two, out of any of the heroes that work under me, will be able to handle this,” he said, voice smooth and serious. “It’s work; all you have to do is act. Think of it as a vacation, really. Use the onsen, eat some food, and keep an eye out until Saturday. Then we can put these assholes away for good.”
“I can do it,” Shouto spoke very suddenly, looking at Tenya. “We can do it.”
“Apologies for my outburst.” Tenya took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose before putting them back on with a deep inhale. “You’re right. We’ll handle this, sir. You can trust us.”
Hawks perked up again, standing up out of his oversized office chair. “I knew I could count on you two. Let’s head downstairs; we’ll grab the files and prep bags.”
Tenya and Shouto rose from their seats, respectively, waiting for Hawks to head out of the door before following him into the hallway. Shouto’s mind was surprisingly blank.
They hadn’t seen each other in so long, let alone spoken—and now here they were. Walking side by side through the empty hallways, about to spend a few days pretending to be a couple and sharing close quarters through it all.
But part of Shouto appreciated that it was him over anyone else.
Right after the war, when nightmares and flashes of Dab—no, Touya—plagued Shouto’s mind, he found himself in Tenya’s dorm. Shaking like a leaf, oxygen burning his lungs with every inhale, and Tenya, Tenya, Tenya.
Tenya would hold him until he wasn’t trembling anymore and offer him a place in his bed. Sometimes Shouto would say yes; other times he’d say no. But regardless, it made him feel better.
When he would say yes, he’d let Shouto sleep on the inside and wrap an extra blanket around his middle. A few times, he’d woken up pressed against Tenya’s chest, warm and strong and safe.
It felt weird to be so close. Shouto preferred not to be touched most of the time. It was this weird nausea that bubbled in his stomach, a prickly feeling underneath his skin when it happened. Something between TV static and water that’s just a little too warm.
But when his nights were scary and long, and all he could see and smell was blue fire and burnt flesh, touch was a little less of a mental hurdle.
It was something to ground him back to reality and enough to remind him that he wasn’t in danger anymore.
He’d always head back to his own dorm before Tenya woke, never speaking about it to one another when the sun rose. After he started going to therapy (mandated by Nezu after UA’s overall GPA dropped), the nights that they shared together stretched further and further apart until they stopped completely.
Then the second year of school passed, and then graduation happened, and he joined Hawks’ agency, and Touya died.
Shouto felt his heart rate rise and willed himself out of his thoughts and back to reality. His brain liked to betray him at the worst moments, but now was not the time to think of him .
There was a mission ahead, an important one—one that relied on him to happen successfully. They were downstairs in a back room now, somehow, even though Shouto couldn’t recall getting into the elevator.
Hawks leaned over, rummaging through cabinets.
Tenya stood next to him. Shouto looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time all morning. His eyes looked tired; his face seemed thinner than it had before.
But his shoulders were still broad as ever, the black fabric of his t-shirt stretched across his chest. Instead of his usual fringe, his hair was pushed up and exposed his forehead. He looked like the same old him, maybe just a bit older and worn.
Shouto wondered if he looked older to Tenya too.
Hawks tossed two black bags at the pair.
“Your disguises, my beautiful spies.” He reached towards a stack of papers that sat on the counter in front of him. Looking closer, Shouto realized it was two thick manila envelopes. “Your identities. Read over this; keep it in your suitcase.”
“Yes, sir.” Tenya reached forward and grabbed the envelopes, handing one to Shouto. “Here.”
Shouto grabbed it, and their fingers grazed again. “Thank you, Tenya.” Was he allowed to call him that still? Or had it been too long? He avoided looking up to see his reaction, believing that it’d be better to not know.
Hawks stood up and placed a hand on each of their shoulders, his grip firm.
“Alright. Both of you go home, pack, and don’t tell anyone where you’re going. This needs to stay under wraps. Got it?”
In unison, Tenya and Shouto said, “Yes, sir.”
“Car will come pick you up at your home tonight around nine. Shouto first, Tenya second. Be wired in and dressed in your disguises, and have your story straight. Everything you need will be in those envelopes, and if anything goes awry—we’re right there with you,” Hawks chirped, kicking the cabinet closed with his foot.
“Alright.” Shouto said, throwing the bag onto his arm. He turned towards the door when Hawks sucked his teeth. He paused, looking over his shoulder.
“One more thing.”
Tenya paused too.
Hawks smiled, but his eyes stayed serious.“Watch each other's backs out there. I don’t want any more of my people’s blood spilled at the hands of these guys.”
Tenya opened his mouth to respond, but Shouto cut him off.
“Of course. We’ll keep each other safe,” he said, without even thinking. It wasn’t something he had to think about. Having Tenya’s back was something that came as easily to him as breathing.
There were too many things Shouto didn’t understand. But keeping his friends safe? That was easy. He could do that, and he could do it well. Memories of the alleyway and Stain flashed through his mind. This weekend was no different, regardless of how long it had been since they had spoken.
“Yes. We will,” Tenya said, talking to Hawks but looking at Shouto.
Hawks clapped his hands together. “Good. Now go. Enjoy your last day free,” he said. “I’ll be here, so call if anything changes before tonight.”
The pair nodded and bowed slightly. Hawks wasn’t much for formalities, but he was their boss—and their manners were so ingrained into them that it didn’t matter.
Shouto continued towards the door, heading out into the lobby of the agency. It was empty. The sun was rising now, shining through the glass doors and windows that lined the perimeter of the building.
It was still so early, and the reality of the situation still hadn’t sunk in. He needed coffee and a shower before he could even attempt to make sense of this, let alone prepare his suitcase.
There had been a few times when missions would get sprung on him at the last minute—that was the nature of being a hero, after all—but it didn’t happen often enough anymore for him to be used to it.
A small tap on his shoulder caught him off guard.
“It’s nice to see you, Shouto.” Tenya was now walking beside him. “It’s been a while.”
“It really has.”
Tenya looked down at the floor as they walked, looking nervous. There was a beat of silence before he hesitantly lifted his head. “I’ll see you tonight, then?”
“Yes.” Shouto smiled, barely, just a faint curve of his lips. It wasn't forced, but it felt fragile and out of place. He was out of practice. “See you tonight.”