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Keigo, for the first time in so many years of his life, is truly afraid. He was trained: first and foremost, he is a hero, and only second, a person. Heroes are not allowed to feel fear. Especially not the second-ranked hero in the country.
They eradicated fear from him. Fear is what makes him vulnerable. It is what makes him so human and so imperfect.
The little bird wasn't afraid of his parents. He pitied them because, no matter how cruel and cold they seemed on the outside, they were broken on the inside. Towards his parents, young Keigo felt either pity or indifference. The street outside, the world beyond their tiny, rotten house, evoked far more emotions in him.
The Commission suppressed his emotions, destroyed the remnants of fear, and shattered his doubts. The big men in suits did everything to turn the feeble Keigo Takami into the perfect soldier, Hawks. They rid their best project of everything that could become an obstacle. They poured all their efforts into making Hawks a fearless and all-powerful warrior. They reprogrammed Keigo, instilling their own sense of morality.
Hawks has forgotten what fear feels like. Nothing inspires fear in him. Not an enemy, and certainly not fear itself. To lose one's life for the sake of the nation is an honor; there's nothing wrong with that. At least, that's what his trainers told him. The Commission wouldn't mourn their golden boy for long. His loss wouldn't be critical to them. They would quickly find another child, even more capable, with an even stronger quirk. Hawks knows how it works. He himself was someone's replacement.
Hawks doesn't value his own life. The lives of others are more important to him. He's a hero; he will always prioritize someone else's life. The only thing scarier than losing someone else's life would be losing someone close. How fortunate for him that he has no one like that!
Parents? Hilarious. Can you even call people you've easily forgotten and erased from your life “close”? Other relatives? Does he even have any? The men in suits who taught him how to live? What a joke. They always said attachments could become a hindrance. Hawks nodded and made sure not to grow attached.
Attachment is a hindrance. Feelings are a hindrance. They're like a short leash. Or a lever for pressure. It's fine when you're the one applying pressure. It's bad when it's applied to you. That's why you have to remember the rules: don't get attached. One day, it could become your greatest weakness.
Hawks was always obedient, always followed the rules. And he didn't form attachments. Not to his agency staff, not to interns, not to his fellow heroes. The winged hero is always friendly, always cheerful, always upbeat. But no one ever knows what's truly in his heart. And that's a good thing, isn't it? You can play the sweetheart while avoiding emotional ties. You can, right?
Lady Nagant, the one he replaced, couldn't. She couldn't smile when her soul was frozen inside. She couldn't shake hands with people because her own were soaked in blood, up to her elbows. Even if the bloodshed had been for the greater good. But Hawks isn't like that. He's better. That's why he became her replacement. He will succeed.
And… he didn't succeed at all, ladies and gentlemen. Moral decay and something resembling depression overwhelm him. The morality hammered into his head is crumbling; the prescribed code is glitching. The circuits in his mind are sparking and breaking down.
Dabi storms in and tears it all apart, dismantling the settings that were embedded in him, pulling out something old from deep inside, something real.
But Hawks is perfect! He doesn't break, doesn't fear, doesn't get attached! He follows the rules and stands as a guardian of order.
Dabi snaps the very notion of perfection over his knee. He's a villain, he spits on laws and rules. He doesn't live for others, doesn't exist for anyone else. He survives for himself.
In Hawks' perfect world, people like Dabi belong behind bars. They don't poke around in his mind. They aren't unafraid to admit that they were once broken. They live. In a way, they're even more human than Hawks himself. Because in his society, the perfection of heroes has been elevated to an absolute. Villains don't need to be perfect, they're allowed to be themselves.
Dabi walks his own path. A path he chose for himself. A path he burned into existence. He sees his goal, he destroys obstacles. He knows why he lives. He knows why he doesn't die.
The little bird was put on the right track from the start. From there, Hawks adapted. He didn't need further guidance, he was smart enough to stay on course.
But he couldn't answer when Dabi asked him what he wanted. Not what society, his superiors, or his country wanted — what he wanted. No, not quite. What does Takami Keigo want? He doesn't know. Dabi is the first person to ask him that. How did Dabi's attempts to expose Hawks turn into an excavation of the remnants of his personality? Why is the first person to dig beneath the charming façade of Hawks a villain?
How did it come to this?…
Hawks scolds himself. Harshly and often. Because this is wrong, it goes against all his (his?) directives, it's unprofessional, it risks the mission's failure, puts lives in danger, leaves the Commission without intelligence, and keeps him from obtaining crucial information.
“To hell with it,” Dabi would say. What's the point of this job if it turns your life into mere existence?
Hawks makes a mistake. One of the biggest. He's grown attached. And to whom? A villain! An enemy! An arsonist, a murderer, a…
The only one who cared for Hawks.
What kind of unprofessional behavior is this, Hawks? Have you forgotten who you are? Have you forgotten that you're a spy? Maybe you've forgotten your duty? Maybe you've forgotten that attachment is a weakness? That you and Dabi are on opposing sides, and he will use your feelings to manipulate you?
“No,” Hawks answers simply.
Dabi wouldn't do that. Because he's the one who gave Keigo his emotions back. The one who revived them in him. He's the one who turned off the settings and switched on a human understanding:
“You have the right to feel. It doesn't make you weak; it makes you stronger than ever.”
Somehow, Dabi had moved from the “insanely annoying type” circle to the circle of those closest to him. Probably by the same miracle that kept him alive and still going.
Along with his emotions, Hawks' sense of fear awakens. For the first time, he's afraid. It's a feeling he's never known before. He never used to be scared… So why now? Because now he has something to lose, someone to lose. Losses insignificant to the state have become deeply significant to Hawks.
He's terrified, oh, how terrified he is. He's still a hero, and Dabi is still a villain. They're still on opposite sides. Everything... Everything that's happened between them could collapse at any moment. Hawks can't save them. He's powerless against the force of time.
Unfortunately for the hero, everything resolved itself sooner than he thought. The world didn't crumble, Dabi, thank the gods, didn't die, and even Hawks himself survived. It seemed like everything was fine. It seemed that way.
Hawks has been warned: his memory will be erased if he falls asleep. Not completely, but no one knows how much. The uncertainty is terrifying. How many days will vanish from his mind? One? Two? Maybe a week? A month? The people in suits shrug. They don't know.
As soon as Hawks falls asleep, his brain will reboot. But not all the files will be restored. Some of them will be lost forever.
***
Half a year. Six months. One hundred and eighty-two days. 4,368 hours. 262,080 minutes. Too many numbers. Too large to grasp.
He'll lose his memories from the past six months. The last freaking six months! Six agonizingly long months. Over one hundred and eighty days, for crying out loud! This isn't just a problem; it's a catastrophe of epic proportions! Hawks doesn't have enough anger for this! Why didn't he just slit the throat of the bastard with that damn memory-erasing quirk?! (Traces of his shadowy work for the government and conversations with Dabi surface as a preference for bloody solutions.)
So much has happened in those six months... With the loss of memory, will his feelings be erased too? He'll forget Dabi. He'll remember him as a target, a contact, just another villain, just another problem. But he won't remember Dabi as a person. He'll forget what his smile looks like, what his laughter sounds like, how his hands feel.
He'll forget Dabi... which means he'll forget everything.
Their superiors had instructed Hawks dryly to prepare himself so he wouldn't fall out of sync with his mission after the reset. Hawks, equally detached, agreed. Restoring his work wasn't a problem: compile documentation on everything and everyone, leave it beside the bed, and write a note for his future self. Done. Hawks was too professional to let this derail him. No one would even notice his memory lapse. He'd perform flawlessly.
But the real issue wasn't the mission. Hawks could summarize the progress of his infiltration into the League, but he could never convey what truly happened. How would that sound? “So, me and Dabi are kind of a thing now. Go hug the best guy in the universe.” Like that? Sure. Hawks knew himself too well. He was a phenomenal actor, he could just start playing the role of a lovestruck bird. He could exploit the situation.
But Dabi didn't deserve that. Not him.
Six months was far too long. They had gone through too much together in that time. Half a year ago, their conversations had been more like:
“Hey there, buddy! When are you finally gonna ditch your trusty sidekick Paranoia and let me get closer to the League, you crispy jackass?”
“Oh, hey. Nice to see you too, you sneaky spy bastard who sucks at playing a thug. Here's the deal: over my charred corpse, you manipulative feathered freak.”
Now, things were different — so painfully different.
The picture is disheartening… He wants to bang his head against the table, just to escape the horrible reality where his life is one endless order. He wants to stay here, in this time frame, in this world where he feels so much… In a world where he has someone to care for, where there is someone worth trying for, and where he has the right to love!
The effect of that hateful quirk won't take hold until he falls asleep. He has time until then… He wants to do everything before that moment. After all, he is Hawks — the fastest hero of the modern era.
***
"I think I should pay your bosses another visit." Dabi’s voice rings out from behind.
He’s done this before. Several times. Each one ended with arson. The first time, Dabi burned into the ground the words: "Can I take you out on a date?" And that was the most romantic thing Hawks had ever seen in his life. He doesn’t want to let go of this... He doesn’t want to be without Dabi.
The villain places his hands on Hawks’ shoulders, kneading them gently.
“Tell me, have they ever heard of human rights in the Commission?” Dabi asks, a hint of anger in his voice.
Needless to say, the first fire he set was when he realized how easily Hawks was ready to give up his life and who had planted that nonsense in his head.
The hero blinks sleepily. He no longer has the strength to focus on the documents. The letters blur and smear together. How long has it been since he last slept? He doesn’t know. Even he has his limits. And now he’s reaching them…
Hawks first mumbles something drowsy and pitiful, and then his mouth finally produces something coherent:
“I’m an idiot.”
The hands on his shoulders freeze and then withdraw completely. Dabi sits down beside him.
"I’m aware,” he replies, peering into his face. “Care to elaborate?”
The villain studies the tired eyes and the massive bags beneath them. He knows the hero is hiding something. He just can’t figure out what.
Hawks lets out another pitiful groan. He still hasn’t confessed to Dabi that it’s all going to end soon. The memories will soon be erased… The effect of the quirk is irreversible.
"I’m such a liar,” he admits miserably.
He’s running solely on coffee and energy drinks. If he doesn’t sleep, his body will give out completely. His concentration is at zero; he can barely think straight. If he weren’t a trained fighter, he’d already be feeling the full horrors of insomnia.
"I know that too,” Dabi replies, his gaze never leaving him. "Got anything new to share?
Hawks remains silent. He doesn’t have the courage to say it. A liar and a coward.
“I’m not rushing you,” Dabi says reassuringly “but will you share it with me?
Dabi places his hand over Hawks’, and the hero melts under the touch. He can’t keep stalling any longer...
“I’m going to forget you,” he breathes out painfully.
For a split second, swear it, there’s fear in those blue eyes, then surprise. He silently demands an explanation.
“I got hit with some kind of memory-loss quirk,” Hawks explains, avoiding his gaze. “It’ll take effect as soon as I fall asleep. All memories from the past six months will disappear.”
That’s it... It’s out in the open now. Somehow, it even feels a little lighter. But how will Dabi react?
“So you were planning to fall asleep mid-flight and splatter yourself like a bug on a windshield,” Dabi replies, gripping his hand tighter. “It’s not worth it.”
Your health and life are more valuable.
Hawks frowns incomprehensibly. Why does he talk about it so easily? Of course it’s worth it. The memories, the emotions, the feelings — they’re worth everything.
“You’re worth it,” Hawks answers, looking agonizingly tired. “I don’t want to forget…”
Dabi exhales. To say he’s surprised would be an understatement. He knew Hawks was hiding something. He’d been right. But none of Dabi’s guesses even came close to reality.
“I get it,” his grip on Hawks’ hand tightens almost instinctively. “But the longer you put off sleep, the more damage you’re doing to yourself.”
From the outside, it might seem like Dabi doesn’t care about the situation at all. Otherwise, why would he be so insistent on making Hawks sleep? But Dabi does care. That’s precisely why he wants Hawks to rest. People need sleep. Hawks might be a trained fighter ten times over, but even he isn’t immune to basic human needs.
“I was terrible six months ago, the hero whines. “I’d like to leave a message for my future self…”
Hawks had ideas, so many ideas. But none of them were any good. Just failure after failure.
“But six-months-ago-you wouldn’t believe even a hundred pieces of proof,” Dabi finishes for him.
And judging by Hawks’ forlorn expression, Dabi hit the bullseye. How does Dabi know him so well?
“That’s the worst part,” the hero says, lowering his head. “I don’t know how to keep what we have…”
And that’s what terrifies him the most. That’s what Hawks is so afraid of. It’s what he’s been running from. But not even his speed can save him from this.
Hawks was utterly horrified when he first learned about the memory loss. He’s still terrified now. And he can’t understand why, compared to him, Dabi seems impossibly calm.
But Dabi simply chose the lesser of two evils. If Hawks is destined to forget everything, then at least he should get some rest. Dabi will figure it out. He’ll come up with something.
“Hawks,” Dabi says, taking both of his hands in his own. “There are some things even hopeless heroes like you can’t do. You’ve done enough. You’ve done everything you could.”
Hawks lifts his head, disbelief clear in his eyes. That’s not true; he can do more. Dabi knows exactly what he’s thinking, and he doesn’t agree. This dumb bird will always be dissatisfied with himself. This dumb bird never values himself. When will this birdbrain finally realize how important his work and his life are?
“You’ve done enough for us,” Dabi continues. “Now it’s my turn.”
Hawks is used to being good. But to someone being good to him? That’s something he still hasn’t learned to accept.
“I’ll do everything I can to help you remember,” Dabi says, looking him straight in the eyes. “Even if it’s harder than the first time. I’ll keep trying, over and over. Even if you turn back into that unbearably self-righteous jerk I wanted to punch.”
Do you trust me?
“Dabi…” Hawks whines instead of giving a proper answer.
When did he go from being an obedient robot to a sentimental fool?
The hero wraps his arms around him, burying his face in Dabi’s shoulder. Dabi hugs him back. He’s going to miss this...
“Please, get some sleep,” Dabi asks, pulling back slightly.
“I’m not ready,” Hawks admits. “I want to stay with you a little longer.”
The hero glances at the empty energy drink cans scattered around.
“Don’t even think about it,” Dabi cuts off his impulse before it can go any further.
“But-”
“I’ll make you some tea. Green tea. End of discussion,” Dabi interrupts firmly, disentangling himself from the embrace.
These moments in Hawks’ life feel like the longest. Dabi returns quickly with the promised cup of tea. Hawks drinks it without suspicion. It’s unbearably sweet, just the way he likes it.
Does he trust Dabi? Yes.
The tea is gone. His eyelids grow heavy. Hey, he can still hold on. He’s not ready to fall asleep yet... He can...
“I’m a liar too,” Dabi admits.
Hawks looks at him in surprise. What does he mean? His consciousness slips further. What the hell is going on?
“Sorry,” the villain suddenly apologizes. “I told you that you had the right to choose. But in the end, I made the choice for you. I’m sorry for that.”
He looks guilty yet resolute. And it hits Hawks. there was more than just sugar in that tea…
"Everything will be fine," Dabi says soothingly, gently stroking Hawks’ hand. "You’ll have a long, happy dream.
Do you still trust me?"
"You’re a liar," Hawks murmurs sleepily.
His head grows heavier... It’s okay. The hero feels bitter, but it’s fair. Dabi is a liar. And Hawks is a liar too. So it’s fine.
Dabi lifts him up in his arms and carries him to the bedroom. Like a princess. Or a bride. No one’s ever carried Hawks like this. Wow. Cool.
Dabi knows he’s acting, well, like a villain. That’s what villains do: give someone faith in something and then destroy it themselves. Guess that makes his father a villain too? He’s known that for a long time.
Dabi doesn’t like what he’s doing, he’s not proud of it. Hawks has every right to be angry at him. But this is for the best. Ugh, he’s picked up some of those heroic habits from Hawks. How disgusting...
"The most charming liar," Hawks continues sleepily.
Falling asleep in his arms doesn’t sound like such a bad idea.
The villain is surprised that Hawks doesn’t resist. It’s even better this way. He lays the hero on the bed. Hawks clings to his hand.
"Don’t leave me," he pleads pitifully.
It’s as if he’s not falling asleep but dying. Dabi doesn’t rush to leave. He sits on the edge of the bed.
"I won’t leave you," the villain reassures him.
The pillow isn’t doing Hawks any favors. Sleep pulls at him harder. It feels like he’s slipping into an eternal coma.
"Sweet dreams," a voice echoes from somewhere far away. "Hawks."
"Keigo," he manages to whisper, clinging to the edge of consciousness.
A wrong choice. He gave in to his feelings. How unprofessional. But what does it matter now? Let the Hawks of tomorrow deal with it. Keigo doesn’t want to regret anything right now.
“Nice to meet you, Keigo,” a familiar voice says. “My name is Toya.”
Toya, huh… Keigo is the first person in ten years to learn that. Toya is the first person ever to know the true name of the professional hero Hawks.
Keigo will forget this when he wakes up. But right now, this little revelation means the world to him… His lips curve into a smile.
Toya will come back for him. Keigo believes in him.