Chapter Text
The wind was nice up here.
It was the same thought Hawks always had when he soared up onto skyscrapers and other buildings, but this time, it was especially enjoyable. He’d once again taken Tokoyami into the sky to help his work-study mentee train his flight skills. They were improving at an incredible rate, Tokoyami’s stamina growing with every hour spent soaring, but Tokoyami still tired eventually—so, sufficiently worn out for the day, the two of them were now resting against the edge railing of one of the roofs overlooking the city.
And, most importantly, having the most crucial argument of Hawks’ life.
“No, listen, karaage is the perfect fried food. First of all, it’s chicken, you can’t go wrong with that. Second of all, it’s an easy take-out option. Great for a hero on the go. That’ll be you someday, take notes,” Hawks vowed.
Tokoyami’s eyes crinkled. “But something like tonkatsu has more versatility. You can eat it alone, or with an amalgamation of flavors. I am rather fond of katsu curry.”
“See, but what’s the point of fried food if you’re just gonna drown out the crunch?” Hawks asked in despair, slouching over the railing before glancing back up at his mentee. He squinted, the new angle bringing something to his notice. “Wait—Hold on. Are you growing in new feathers?”
“I believe so,” Tokoyami replied, seemingly unphased by the change in topic despite his unshakable defense of fried pork. “But I am not sure why. This is not the typical time for my shroud to be born anew.” He sighed. “I fear it may be an ill omen of my health, so I met with Recovery Girl this morning to be certain. I do not appear unwell, but my scans and blood ritual shall be made available to me upon my return to UA this evening.” Tokoyami paused. “But, please do not worry. I will let you know if my results are any cause for concern.”
Hawks straightened up. “Oh, I had my check-up a few days ago. It's pretty important for heroes to keep on top of their health. Good thinking,” he added, giving his mentee a feather-light punch on the shoulder. A strange feeling of pride began to bubble up within him as he watched Tokoyami and Dark Shadow preen at the praise, but it was abruptly cut short by a sharp beeping from his pocket.
Hawks sighed and pulled out his phone. The time, if not the setting sun, confirmed that Tokoyami had to go; and the notification confirmed that he had to attend to whatever was so important to cause Madam President to call him in for an impromptu meeting two hours before the end of his shift.
Hawks grimaced, but morphed it into a smile before turning back to Tokoyami. “Ah, that’s time,” he said, flashing the kid the clock on his phone. “But let me know how the tests go, bud.”
Dark Shadow deflated at the news, but Tokoyami nodded solemnly before taking off. Hawks watched his mentee fly into the horizon with a smile. He hadn't thought much about it when he first took the kid under his wings, but this mentoring thing was proving to be a pleasant reprieve from his work cycle.
A work cycle that called. Hawks sighed again and took flight as well.
——
“Your latest biomedical scans came in,” Madam President informed him the moment he landed.
“Funny, I was just talking about that sort of thing,” Hawks said lightly, dusting off his jacket. “What took so long to get them back?”
“They were looking at your soulmate biometrics in detail,” she said.
Hawks froze.
He hadn’t heard Madam President talk about his soulmate biometrics in years. No soulmates, no need to study the results; for as long as Hawks had been part of the Commission, that had remained a constant. But today, Madam President was unusually tense. Her heart rate was increasing, according to his feathers. She never typically showed signs of agitation; something important had happened. It was no wonder that she had summoned him for a meeting on such short notice.
But any need to study his biometrics was strange, considering his current bondless status, and the fact that it usually only took a few weeks for something like a new soulbond to become obvious. Soulmates gradually gained little essences of each other's quirks, after all; usually something minor, but identifiable. Something that altered them, just a little bit. Something that, if gained, would very easily show up on a biometrics scan without having to study it “in detail.”
“...What about my biometrics?” Hawks said after a moment, brushing his thoughts to the side.
“Well, the scans are showing positive,” Madam President said, picking up a few papers from her desk. “Look for yourself.”
Hawks froze for a second time as she passed him the results. He only managed to kick his brain into gear and grab them just before they fell out of her hands entirely, and he ended up crushing them slightly out of stress and bewilderment.
“You said I didn’t have any soulmates,” he mumbled as he flattened the creases to look at his numbers.
"We maintain that you didn't," Madam President agreed. "But, if we compare your scans to last month's, the signs are clear. You have recently formed a soulbond."
Hawks' mind raced. How could that possibly be true? He'd barely had the chance to hang out with anyone recently, not even considering his sorely lacking group of friends. But when he looked down at the results sheet, the numbers didn't lie. He may not have been a specialist, so the graphs were foreign to him, but the majority of the results… tracked.
His first-ever soulbond. Huh. His body felt numb. He really…
"It truly is unfortunate," Madam President hummed once he handed back the results. "Some council members were worried that you would become too attached if you were allowed to accept mentees. I greenlit this one regardless, both for the sake of the mission as well as a clearly misguided faith in your ability to stay detached. Your-"
Hawks barely processed anything she said past the word "mentee." Once the pieces clicked, he blurted out,
"Wait, it’s Tokoyami?" He shouldn’t have given into his impulses with an outburst—they had trained him better than that—but he felt unmoored in a way he almost never did. This was… this was impossible, right? He didn't do that. Wing Hero: Hawks had never had any soulmates, let alone acquired one in the span of, what? A few weeks?
Madam President raised her eyebrows, but otherwise allowed the interruption. "When viewing the results of your Quirk Resonance Imaging, the experts noted inexplicable shadowing around your feathers. This confused your doctors, until they studied the rest of your results and determined the cause to be-"
"-Dark Shadow," Hawks finished in a daze, still desperately trying to process what he was hearing.
So—wait, if Tokoyami was suddenly growing in new feathers, did that mean…?
He didn't know exactly how these things progressed. He'd never had a soulbond before, after all; not even a familial one. It was one of his selling points when the Commission had b—acquired him.
"Yes. It's Dark Shadow's Quirk augmentation.” Madam President paused with a sigh. “And while you developing a soulbond is troubling in itself, a soulbond involving a Quirk like Dark Shadow is particularly unfortunate, Hawks. A Quirk with a mind of its own poses a significant risk to our assets, regardless of how strongly or feebly it ends up manifesting through the bond.
“So, as I am sure you are aware, this formation of this familial soulbond is deeply regrettable. Your lack of proper soulbonds was one of your greatest strengths from the moment we laid our eyes on you. It kept you as a truly impartial being."
A familial soulbond? Not even a platonic one?
There was something particularly embarrassing about his body deciding that Tokoyami was… what, his younger brother? Was he really that starved for connection?
…Was Tokoyami… also…?
"The mission-" Hawks started.
"-will continue as normal,” Madam President finished for him, tone leaving no room for argument. “We may have to cut your work study with Tokoyami short."
"What?" Hawks asked reflexively. He held back a wince; two incorrect responses in the span of a single conversation wasn't going to go over well with the President. But- “No, wait-”
"See? Your judgment has already been clouded," Madam President said, disapproval written clearly across her face.
"Well—Madam President—but—” Hawks was scrambling. He didn't have a script for this, for defending this… this thing that was suddenly real for the first time ever. Couldn't he at least get a day or two to try it? Try living and breathing like everyone else? To know what it was like to have someone on the other side of him?
“I see,” was what came out of his mouth after several moments. It wasn't his usual “I understand", because even if he did understand why she was doing this, there was still that tiny, childish part of himself that didn't. A child within him that had never felt what it was like to have a family, that had never been able to—so why—why—
Hawks inhaled and shook his head. He continued, rattling off the first thing that would please the President with a practiced nod and a sufficiently contrite look.
“Yes, Madam President,” he intoned. “Perhaps you're right.”
He paused to see if she had any more to say. After a sufficient two and a quarter seconds of silence, he bowed and added, “Thank you for the meeting”, before escaping through the nearest door and onto some other balcony not attached to her office. He wasn't really sure which one, but it didn't matter—all he needed was somewhere he could get out. Get away.
The second he yanked the balcony doors open and the cool evening air hit his skin, he jumped up and flew. He wasn't thinking about where, trusting his wings to carry him anywhere he could to go. Hawks didn’t care, as long as he could feel the wind in his wings and lose his thoughts to flight.
——
After his mentor had dismissed him, Tokoyami began his pilgrimage back to UA. Shouji was already in the common room, watching some of the playback footage of their latest Hero Foundational Studies course.
“Has the ritual self-flagellation already begun?" Tokoyami asked, peering over the couch. He rather liked this ritual. Getting to view their weakness, to cull the poison in their habits before it could leech rather lethally into their hero career.
One of Shouji’s arms pivoted to face him. “Want to join? I can restart.”
Tokoyami hefted himself over the back of the couch in one swift movement. Shouji had paused the TV and Tokoyami shook his head, rather certain they’d play it over more than once. He didn’t need to see it in full right now.
Shoji pressed play, and Tokoyami let himself be entranced by the footage. He was rather restless recently, his feathers itching despite it not being time for his usual moulting. He could feel one of them, tucked along his ribcage, singing tunelessly in the air conditioning. It was coarser than the baby fluff he typically had scattered around his body. He shifted, hoping to relieve the pressure of his cotton shirt on the thing. It wasn’t working, and he was starting to grow ever more uncomfortable.
Shouji was staring at him via one of his arms. “Do not be afraid,” Tokoyami soothed. “I am just rather overcome with sensation; perhaps I shall take to my grave early tonight.”
Shouji didn’t say anything, but he powered off the TV and stood up with Tokoyami. Dark Shadow was sleeping peacefully already, energy sapped by their patrol with Hawks. The memory of the way patrol ended today—with Hawks soaring away with barely a goodbye—still soured Tokoyami’s stomach, though he wasn’t sure why. The hour had already been approaching twilight’s domain, and Hawks seemed to have important business to attend to; Tokoyami did not need to know what it was.
Besides, Tokoyami was the fledgling here. It was not his place to question Hawks’ habits. So, putting those thoughts out of his mind, he began to journey up to his dwelling. He bid Shouji farewell at the base of the stairs and ascended, nearly running bodily into Mr. Aizawa at the entrance to his floor.
“Oh, Tokoyami,” Mr. Aizawa said, “I need you to follow me. There’s a visitor who insists on seeing you.”
——
Hawks was escorted towards the UA Heights Alliance building by Tokayami’s teacher, Eraserhead, whom he had only spoken with via text or email up until tonight. A good underground hero, and purportedly quite protective of his flock of kids. Hawks had looked into it about a week ago, which honestly should’ve keyed him into the whole soulbond thing sooner, but he digressed.
“It’s lights out for my students in one minute, you know,” Eraserheads said, levelling Hawks with a stare that could rival Madam President’s, just prior to actually entering the building.
His mouth went dry. He hadn't thought this through, he’d just…flown here. All he knew was that he just needed to see Tokoyami, and he needed to see him now. So how could he possibly explain himself to Eraserhead when he still didn't even know what the hell he was doing? But Eraserhead’s scowl still set solidly in place while waiting for a response, so Hawks managed,
“Yes, I know I'm sorry. It's an urgent matter of the utmost importance.” He even bowed slightly for effect.
“Fine. Let me get him for you.” The other man sighed. “You'd better not make a habit out of these late-night visits. Even if Tokoyami is a night owl.” Eraserhead turned and walked away, leaving him standing outside the dorm alone. Hawks let out a sigh of relief.
Soon, his student poked out from the door and waved him in. “What brings you here so late?” Tokayami asked as he stepped through the threshold of the building and closed the door behind him.
“I—I…” Hawks shifted from side to side, unable to get comfortable. What was he doing here?
“I—came to tell you that…” He had to do it. He had to just… rip off the bandage. For Japan. He couldn’t be selfish. “I’m not going to be able to work with you anymore. Something came up and—it just isn't an option anymore.”
“You came after lights out, and had my teacher bend the rules, to tell me that?” Tokayami squinted at him and said with a steady voice, “You could have just texted me.”
“I wanted to tell you in person.” I needed to see you.
“Thank you for letting me know. I appreciated our time together,” Tokayami bowed, then turned and started to walk away.
Hawks chest tightened. His body felt numb. He was still devastated, but the kid, his familial soulbond, had barely reacted. He wasn’t sure what he expected. But he’d known better, hadn’t he? That was just how families were.
——
Mezou had started to lay on his back while waiting for Tokoyami to come back from outside. He flipped through the pages of a cooking magazine someone left downstairs. Satou, maybe? He didn’t really care, but staring at the glossy pictures of takoyaki and golden ramen was starting to make him hungry. He heard the door open. Mezo didn’t look up from the magazine, not even with one of his arms; he recognized Tokoyami’s soft-footed steps.
“You know,” he started, “that ritual made me hungry, want to—” he turned to Tokoyami and stopped, the words decaying in his throat. Tokoyami was crying. The hunger evaporated, or maybe the lump forming in his stomach was substance enough. He discarded the magazine, open still, face down over the back of the couch. “What happened?”
“Vanquish your worries,” Tokoyami said, his voice tremulous. Mezou wanted to say something, but Tokoyami continued, “Please, Shouji. I’m fine.” The lack of eloquence or composure only caused another wave of anxiety to roil through him. Mezou felt his jaw tighten. What could he say right now to help him?
“You know, we’ve been at UA for a while now, and I’m pretty sure Hero 101 is to not ignore someone who’s obviously not fine,” was what he settled on.
Tokoyami’s beak clicked, likely from tension, and he blinked the tears out of his eyes. They were still limpid and irritated. “You’re a good friend. Please. Don’t go looking for pretense where there isn’t any. If you stop trusting my word, I will have no qualms with retreating into the shadows.”
Mezou sucked in a breath. “I won’t pry.”
“Good. There is nothing to pry about.”
——
Fumikage, in truth, was a stranger to loneliness. He had never been alone. That was what it meant to be haunted, bound, chained to another soul. His tether to Dark Shadow was nothing like a soulbond to his knowledge, because a soulbond could be broken by distance, by medicine, by injury. Dark Shadow was more the bisection of his own soul into two. This was why he was likely immune to such things. Someone born to never be alone didn't need a bond with another. He didn’t need the reminder that he never walked a lonely earth; on the contrary, he often wished for more peace, more quiet, more solace. He wanted freedom. When Hawks showed him how to fly, both he and Dark Shadow had to focus on the act, to put all of their energy, consciousness, and effort into it. No other thought could interrupt this process.
Hawks had said that was bad in both combat and rescue. So he pushed them, needled him with pointless arguments and rhetorical questions. He threw french fries at him like he was some street pigeon, he made bad jokes, he forced Fumikage and Dark Shadow to first drown out the world and be alone in their wholeness, and then pushed himself into that whole. Hawks made Fumikage feel alone for the first time, and then, worse, he made Fumikage feel a sense of togetherness he had never actually known. To be one and one with someone, rather than half and half.
And now that Hawks was gone, which… he couldn’t really be gone, Fumikage realized how much he needed that feeling. He wanted placid blue skies, he wanted the sun in his eyes, he wanted that grating laugh that Fumikage knew was directed at him, never with him, because Hawks could be a bit of a bully, but it also never made Fumikage feel small nor fearful.
But Fumikage was small. He was a hero student. And Hawks was the Number Two Hero. The joy Hawks summoned in him, one that unfettered him and abated the darkness, was not Hawks’s responsibility to resuscitate each time it seemed moribund.
Fumikage had to—he had to be strong, and show he could handle this.
He had to.
He traced the lines on the controller, and felt Shouji’s stare. He felt restlessness within, Dark Shadow convulsing and throbbing in his center. She felt small, absent, and he dropped the controller in his lap. He tried to focus on her in alarm. Nothing.
He stood up.
“Tokoyami?”
He ignored Shouji. He found the first light switch and turned off the buttery sconces of the common area. Then the next, and then the harsh fluorescents of the kitchen lights were next to die. The shades were remote-controlled, and the panel was near the elevator, so he rushed to those next, an urgency fueling him.
“What are you doing?” Shouji’s voice shook, and Fumikage remembered only for a second the training camp, the horror, the pain he caused. His friend deserved some transparency in this regard.
“I can’t summon her, she feels…” The words were heavy and metallic, and he couldn't finish the sentence. But Shouji nodded with understanding.
“I can help.” Shouji grabbed the remote control and shut the TV off. Shadows bathed the common room in spidery webs of different shades of darkness. Fumikage shuffled over to the panel, and with a push of the button, the rectangles of light cast by the windows shrink into squares, lines, and then nothing. The room was completely bathed in black.
They waited. He felt her reaction to the darkness, a spike of power, then nothing. Nothing, and Fumikage dropped to the ground. He’s alone. She was gone. He was gone.
“Toko—”
Pain. A scream was torn from his lungs, and he curled into a ball.
“—Yami!” Shouji’s panicked yell urged him to open his eyes, and he could make out Shouji’s fretting hand gestures. Fumikage heard the faint ding of the elevator, the gasps of his classmates, and saw a feather float down to the carpet; Fumikage whimpered, tried to say something, but he didn't have the cognizance to know what. His eyes were heavy, and the room was already pitch black, but suddenly he felt underwater. Alone.
Alone.
So undeniably alone.