Chapter Text
The first time Keigo interacts with him, Toya's bathed in moonlight and smoke.
Keigo's on patrol, with crime rates having declined and there being no new missions, Endeavor had placed Keigo on babysitting duty. He hears the rumble of a low fire before he sees it. Then comes the silhouette, perched on a rooftop, legs swinging, a faint smirk curling under a mop of white-blue hair.
"You're not supposed to be here," Keigo says, his feet off the ground, feathers twitching in warning.
Toya doesn't move. Just exhales a breath of smoke and says, "Neither are you, chick."
"I'm on patrol, so you just sound like an idiot." Keigo scoffs with no real attitude behind it. Dabi was different to him tonight.
They don't fight. Not really, they bickered back and forth. Toya disappears into the shadows, and Keigo lets him go. Chalks it up to strategy. But it sits with him for days, the look in Toya's eyes, like someone who's already lost too much to care about being caught.
---
The second time, it's raining.
Keigo's hiding under an abandoned, crumbling train overpass, wings soaked, heavy, and limp. Toya's already there, leaning against the wall, lighting a cigarette with a flick of flame from his finger. They don't speak for a while. The only sound is the rain and Toya's lighter cracking.
"Ya following me now?" Toya says eventually.
Keigo scoffs. "Hard to follow someone who never stays in one place."
Toya doesn't smile, but something about the way his eyes flick sideways feels like a challenge. or an invitation.
They sit there, side by side, the rain masking the heat that lingers between them.
---
The fifth time, Toya patches Keigo up.
It's stupid, Keigo had rushed into a fight without backup and ended up with a deep gash down his side. He limps into the alley where Toya usually disappears and collapses. Toya's already there, and for reasons Keigo doesn't understand, he kneels beside him and curses.
"You're a dumbass," Toya mutters, wrapping scorched fingers around a bloodied wing. "You're gonna get yourself killed."
"...You care?" Keigo breathes, light-headed.
Toya doesn't answer. Just presses cloth against the wound until Keigo blacks out.
When he wakes, he's alone. But the bandage is clean. The fire's out.
A small part of Keigo had hoped Toya would've stayed until he regained consciousness.
---
The eighth time, Keigo brings him food.
It's late winter, and Toya looks thinner, angrier. He snarls at the offering at first.
"What, you think I can't feed myself?", but takes it anyway. They eat on opposite ends of the same bench.
"You're not what I expected," Keigo says.
"And what's that? An evil villain?" Toya mutters.
"No. Just...not heartless." Keigo says softly.
Toya flinches like it's a slap. Then he says nothing at all.
Toya finished his meal and left without so much as a glance in Kiego's direction.
And for some reason, Keigo's chest clenches in hurt at that.
---
The tenth time, it's nearly spring.
Keigo says his name this time, Toya, not Dabi, and Toya almost leaves. But he stays. They're on a rooftop again, sharing warmth, watching the city lights flicker like dying stars.
"You shouldn't be around me," Toya whispers.
"I know."
"You're a hero."
"And you're a villain." Keigo turns to him, eyes soft. "But that's not all you are."
For the first time, Toya leans in—close enough that Keigo feels the heat off his skin. But he doesn't kiss him. Not yet.
Instead, he says, "You're a fool."
Keigo grins. "Takes one to fall for one."
—
Summer is brutal in the city.
The kind of heat that clings to your skin and makes the air taste like metal. Keigo's wings are sweating beneath his jacket as he lands on the abandoned rooftop, the one he keeps coming back to, even though he tells himself he shouldn't.
Toya's already there, of course. Like always. Shirt half-unbuttoned, cigarette hanging from his lips, the glow of fire flickering lazily at his fingertips.
"You're late," Toya says without looking up.
Keigo shrugs, folding his wings in. "Had to shake my tail. The Commission's been on me tighter lately."
"You're not very good at lying," Toya mutters, flicking ash off the edge.
"Never said I was lying."
A long silence stretches between them, taut as a wire.
Keigo finally steps forward. "You didn't have to patch me up that night. You could've left me there."
Toya exhales slowly. "Could've. Didn't."
"Why?"
Toya turns to face him, jaw tight. His eyes are pale and full of storms. "Because you looked like someone who didn't care if he bled out. And I hate watching people give up."
Keigo stares. "That's rich. Coming from you."
Toya steps in close. "Yes, but I'm the villain. You're a hero, you're supposed to be a symbol of hope. I am the way I am because of what I was turned into." His voice became more agitated towards the end.
"...I think you're scared," Keigo says, quieter. "That if someone looks too close, they'll see something worth saving."
Toya's hand curls into a fist. "You don't know a damn thing about me."
"Maybe," Keigo says. "But you keep showing up."
That's when Toya grabs him.
Not roughly, just fast. Fingers twisted in Keigo's collar, pulling him forward until there's barely an inch between them. The fire in Toya's chest is pulsing, uncontained, but his voice is low, trembling under the rage.
"I don't want to want this," Toya breathes. "You're everything I've taught myself to hate."
Keigo's pulse spikes. His voice comes out raw. "Then hate me."
But Toya doesn't let go.
Instead, his grip softens.
His forehead drops against Keigo's, and for a moment, everything is still. No fire. No wings. Just two broken boys caught in the space between war and something that feels like need.
Keigo whispers, "We can't keep doing this."
Toya's voice is flat. "So stop coming."
"You stop being here first."
Toya laughs, bitter and hollow.
"Coward," Keigo whispers.
Toya kisses him before he can think better of it.
It's not soft. It's not clean. Its teeth and heat and desperation pressed into the shape of something they're too scared to name. When they break apart, breathing hard, Toya's fire has ignited in his palm again, curling around Keigo's collar like a warning.
—
Over the year, their meetings grow longer. Riskier. Touches become less accidental. Words, less guarded. They never speak of the future, only of moments. Moments between smoke and wings, between fire and flight.
Neither of them says love.
But it's there, in the silence between stolen glances. In the way Keigo shields Toya's name in his chest like a secret he'll never give up. In the way, Toya stops running long enough to let someone see him. In the way Keigo likes to extend his wing over Toya. In the way, Toya lets Keigo run his fingers over his scars.
And that's where their story begins.