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“Stay still, damnit.”
Keigo groaned quietly and shifted. Except the second he tried to move, pain exploded behind his eyes. He might’ve cried out, or not. He couldn’t be sure, not with his heart pounding so loudly in his ears.
“That’s why I told you to. Stay. Still.” A familiar voice growled, heavy in the darkness pressing in around them.
“End—” Keigo coughed hard, something warm splattering into his palm. “Endeavor, what’s—shit—what’s going on?”
A small flame flickered to life in Endeavor’s hand, illuminating the space. Keigo took a sluggish look around and realised they were… what, underground? But why? His gaze drifted down to his stomach. That was why he couldn’t move.
He was pinned. By rebar. Through his—
“Don’t look,” Endeavor commanded, catching Keigo’s chin in a bruising grip and forcing his head up.
“What happened?” Keigo hated how his voice cracked. He shouldn’t be scared. He shouldn’t be—fuck, who was he kidding? He was petrified.
The flame hero sighed, letting his hand fall as he shifted awkwardly in the cramped space. His massive body was far too big for the pocket they’d ended up sharing, but Keigo didn’t care. It made him feel… safer, somehow.
“Do you remember fighting the nomu?”
Keigo blinked hard, brows furrowing as he tried to remember. Had he hit his head? The fight came back in sharp, hot flashes: shattered glass, screams, the roar of fire and the roar of a monster, wind whipping through his hair—he winced.
“Not very well.”
“That’s probably for the best,” Endeavor muttered. “You took a bad hit. I tried to grab you. We got trapped under a collapsing building. That’s it.”
“That’s it?” Keigo’s voice pitched higher in disbelief. “How can you—how are you so calm?”
Endeavor stared at him. “There’s no point panicking about something we can’t change right now. Especially not with you in this state.”
“Well, sorry—” Keigo hissed, snapping to his own defence, but his hackles were smothered almost instantly by the blazing pain in his stomach. Against everything he knew medically, his hands went to the rebar and tugged.
“Don’t.” Endeavor’s hand clamped over his wrist, and Keigo froze mid-breath. The flame in his other hand sputtered, throwing harsh light across Endeavor’s face—tight jaw, eyes like blue fire.
“Don’t be an idiot. If you pull it out, you’ll bleed out,” Endeavor said, voice low and flat, intent on drilling it in. “You hear me? I need you conscious.”
Keigo swallowed, throat clicking. “Yeah,” he lied, and tried to focus on anything but the wet heat in his palm. His breath shuddered out of him as darkness pressed in tighter, thick as smoke. The only thing keeping it back was the small, stubborn flame in Endeavor’s palm.
Somewhere above them, concrete creaked. A distant groan rolled through the rubble like thunder in a cave.
Endeavor angled the light, just enough to check Keigo’s face. “Look at me,” he still demanded, but quieter now. “Stay with me.”
Keigo managed a brittle laugh that turned into a wince. “Bossy.”
Endeavor’s jaw flexed and he scoffed.
“So, what, do we just stay here and wait for rescue?” Keigo asked eventually.
“…I don’t know.”
It was the first time he’d heard Endeavor sound so unsure. For someone who prided himself on that public image—the powerful, confident flame hero who could go toe-to-toe with All Might in the rankings—it made Keigo uneasy.
“Is the nomu still standing?”
“What?”
Keigo huffed. “Is the nomu still alive? Did you take it down before it took us down?”
Endeavor hesitated, and Keigo tensed. *Fuck—*he groaned, forcing his muscles to unclench as more blood bubbled up between skin and metal.
“You need to get out of here and fight that thing,” Keigo said, voice tight. “Before it hurts anyone else.”
“Hawks—”
“Since when do you give this much of a damn, Todoroki?” Keigo snapped, but the words landed wrong even in his own head, heat crawling up his neck.
He’d idolised Endeavor for years, built him up into something untouchable, only to meet the man and find a hardass who didn’t give a shit about collateral—including him. So why was Endeavor here, hands steady, voice rough with urgency, acting like Keigo mattered now?
The man frowned frowned, looking away with a grunt. Keigo only sighed.
“Don’t die,” Endeavor finally told him, shifting to turn in the pocket of debris. “You’re a decent hero, Hawks. It would be a shame if you did.”
Keigo let out a breath that was half-laugh, half-choke. “Wow. A compliment. Mark the date.”
Endeavor didn’t rise to it. He wedged his shoulder into the narrow gap and pushed, muscles bunching under torn fabric as concrete groaned in protest.
Concrete dust rained down, stinging Keigo’s eyes. He clenched his teeth, fighting the urge to curl in on himself. Endeavor’s palm came back, firm against his cheek.
“Eyes on me,” Endeavor ordered again. “If it shifts, I need you to tell me.”
“Yeah—fuck—yeah. Okay.”
It didn’t shift, thankfully, and soon enough daylight started to pour through.
Keigo squinted against it, dizzy with relief that tasted like ash. The air that rushed in was cold, sharp, and it still wasn’t enough.
“Easy,” Endeavor warned, hand braced on Keigo’s shoulder like a weight. “Don’t move. Don’t—”
“Yeah,” Keigo breathed, voice fraying. He tried for a grin and got something closer to a grimace. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Above them, someone shouted—muffled, frantic. A crash sounded in the distance, like an explosion.
“You gotta get out there.”
Endeavor didn’t say anything.
“Do you want to be the number one hero or what?”
That seemed to do something. The man’s gears shifted in an instant, his body rising as he climbed free of the pocket of space. Keigo could only sit there and watch, trying not to cough.
Endeavor paused at the top of the opening, then peered down. “I’ll let someone know you’re here. They’ll get to you soon.” He didn’t sound like he fully believed it, but Keigo could recognise when someone was done with being vulnerable for the day.
So, instead, he gave him a thumbs-up.
"You got it! Tell the nomu Hawks said hi!"
Endeavor's mouth twitched, almost a smile, gone as soon as Keigo noticed it. Then he was gone, boots scraping on broken concrete.
Keigo let his head fall back against the rubble. Without Endeavor's heat, the cold sank in fast, slick and mean. He listened to the world above: shouting, impacts, fire. And under it all, the slow, wet sound of his own breathing.
Yeah, he’d be fine. Right?
Later that day, Keigo Takami almost died a second time, choking on his rice when Endeavor told the reporter that Hawks had been vital to the fight.