Winds of Destiny: Rising

Chapter Two: Truth Hurts

The warm, early October wind blew past the tops of the tall buildings in downtown Shinjuku, swirling and curling over the rooftops in heavy gusts. Hawks sat perched on the ledge of one of those buildings, letting the wind whip around his unmoving form and ruffle through his feathers and hair unhindered. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his coat, his form hunched forward as he stared out across the sky from behind his visor. The building directly in the path of his line of sight was home to Misaki's apartment.

He couldn't even begin to count the number of times he'd perched on this particular ledge, staring at the wall of sliding glass doors leading into her rooms. He'd told himself in the beginning that it was because he was worried about her. He'd left her in a pretty ragged state the night he'd broken up with her. He'd just wanted to make sure she was doing okay. That was how it started, at least. He had no excuse at this point for how habitual his stalking had become. Even when her curtains were closed, he'd find himself running back through his memories of their time together and imagining what she was doing behind them.

Kinda like he was doing right now.

His eyes widened and he sucked in a sharp breath as the plate glass door suddenly slid open and Misaki walked out onto her balcony with a mug of what was probably coffee in her hand. Her long, dark hair blew freely in the wind and she lifted her hand to brush a few wayward strands out of her face. She turned her head, her cherry blossom colored eyes gazing fixedly in the direction that the wind was blowing and giving him a clear view of her stunning side profile. Thankfully, he wasn't downwind of her, lest he be assaulted by her intoxicating, spicy sweet scent as well. He sighed heavily as he stared at her across the literal and metaphorical distance between them with clear longing in his gaze.

Not being able to bridge that distance at all hurt like hell. Even though he knew he should have buried his feelings for her by now, he just couldn't seem to suppress the overwhelming love he felt for the woman. The kind of love that people wrote songs about and dreamed their whole lives of finding. She was his one. And damn it, if he was ever lucky enough to get another shot with her; someday, when they were both ready and able to make that commitment to each other; he was going to hold onto her as tight as he could and never let go.

He slid his eyes closed and dropped his head as he let out a haggard sigh. Today was not that day. Nor did it appear that day would be coming any time soon, considering how his first meeting with his contact from the League of Villains had gone. It seemed like it was going to take a lot of time and careful planning to get them to trust him enough to start letting him in on any important business. Right now, he wasn't even being allowed to meet the rest of the group, just his contact; the villain known as Dabi. Shaking his head a couple of times, Hawks tightened his lips into a thin line before looking back up, silently hoping that Misaki wasn't still standing on the balcony across from him.

Damn his rotten luck. He had never been more jealous of an inanimate object in his entire life, as he watched her lift her steaming coffee mug up to her lips and take a sip.

'What are you, some lovesick teenager?' He reached up with both hands to slap the sides of his face.

He really needed to stop this. It was just getting ridiculous at this point. He needed to get his act together and start focusing his time and energy into infiltrating the League, not stalking his ex-girlfriend. His eyes drifted back over to the captivating beauty standing on the balcony across from him. Misaki was fine. She didn't need him to look after her anymore. He let his gaze linger on her face for a long moment before spreading his wings and tipping himself forward off of the ledge.

Misaki turned her head to stare over at the building across from her. Reaching up a hand to the back of her neck, she shivered at the chill that snaked across her skin that had nothing to do with the wind blowing by her. She'd been getting the feeling like she was being watched for several days, but every time she went looking for the source, it vanished as if carried away by the wind. She would have been concerned if the attention had felt hostile at all, but it almost felt familiar. Less like a creeping sense of dread and more like that of a lover's caress.

She sucked in a breath and shook her head. Dwelling on those kinds of thoughts was not going to help her current situation at all. She needed to finish getting ready for work. She'd called in sick the day after the breakup, unable to get the swelling in her eyes to go down since she'd kept tearing up at the drop of a hat. She'd spent most of the day laying around with an icepack over her eyes and listening to boring news reporters drone on about nothing particularly important, hoping that the monotony would help distract her from her distress.

By the next morning, she'd gotten past the point of risking a potential breakdown at the sight or sound or smell of anything that remotely reminded her of Hawks. She'd gone back to work and had successfully made it through the day without incident until someone had wished her a happy belated birthday. Thankfully, her shock had held back her tears long enough for her to make it to the bathroom where she'd sat and counted down from one hundred more than a few times before she felt calm enough to return to work.

By now she'd reached the point where she just felt numb. She'd cried all she thought she could cry at this point. Her eyes felt heavy and her movements sluggish, but she was coping. She still got up in the morning, still bathed herself and brushed her teeth, ate breakfast and went to work, ate lunch and worked some more, came home and had dinner before brushing her teeth again and settling down in bed with a book. But sleep; that had been the one thing that had taken some time to get back into some semblance of normal. She still hadn't really returned to a regular routine with that particular, important bodily function.

It was the dreams that were haunting her and keeping her from getting any restful slumber at night. She'd catch herself, when the exhaustion would get to be too much, and she'd eventually pass out. Those were the only times anymore that she could really shut her mind off and get some rest. She'd thought about going to see a therapist; the Commission had a few on retainer that specialized in treating issues of depression and anxiety. But at this stage, she really didn't want to talk to anyone about her feelings.

The problem was that she didn't really know what she did want; what she was going to do with herself now that she was all by herself again. She'd moved away from her hometown, broken up with her boyfriend of nine months, was living in an apartment filled with almost nothing that made it her own. She had no idea who she was anymore.

Misaki choked on the sip of coffee she'd just taken. She set the mug down on the glass table on the balcony and coughed into the back of her hand. Closing her eyes, she took a few deep breaths to calm herself down before turning to head back inside. She really needed to get ahold of herself. Find a hobby; something that interested her. Maybe even gave her a sense of purpose.

Setting the half empty coffee mug into the sink, she tied her hair into a ponytail at the back of her head and reached out to grab a lightweight jacket from the coat closet. She sat down on the bench and slipped her feet into a pair of low-heeled dress shoes before standing and walking over to the entryway mirror. Satisfied that she didn't look like the complete train wreck that she felt like, she reached out to open the front door and walked out of her apartment to start her day.

Misaki stared down at her desk and took a moment to collect herself. She'd just been called into the President's office, and if her tone of voice was to be any indication of the reason why, it wasn't going to be anything pleasant. She couldn't think of anything she'd done wrong recently, but she had been having trouble focusing due to the stress lately. Perhaps she'd accidentally messed something up while she'd been distracted by her grief.

'Great…' She thought to herself. 'One more thing to add to the list of things to stress about.'

Swallowing heavily, she shakily rose from her chair and turned to walk over to the door leading into the President's office behind her desk, standing sullenly in the doorway as she called out, "Yes, Madam President?"

The woman looked up and motioned for her to enter. "Come in, Misaki. Close the door."

She did so, walking over to stand in front of the desk and keeping her face a stony, inexpressive mask.

"Have a seat," the President directed, holding out a hand toward the chair.

As she sat down, Misaki asked carefully, "Is something wrong?"

The President was silent for a moment, staring back at her in contemplation before she said, "You've been a bit distracted lately."

Misaki looked down, her facial expression never changed but her eyes betrayed her pain. "I apologize. It's a… Personal matter. I'll try harder not to let it affect my work."

The President gave her hunched form and despondent countenance a once over before telling her, "I think you've earned a bit of leeway to take some time to resolve your personal matter outside of work."

Misaki continued to stare down at her hands as she replied, "Thank you, Madam President, but I'm afraid that being home alone will only make it worse."

The President's eyes slid closed, and she heavily sighed a moment later. "I was afraid this would happen."

Misaki's eyes shot up, staring back at the woman in mild confusion. "Ma'am?"

The President looked up, dropping her gaze to her secretary's bare neck. "I knew as soon as I saw the necklace he'd given you. Your mysterious boyfriend, it was Hawks."

Her eyes slowly began to widen as the woman's words sank in and she whispered, "Was..."

The President rose from her seat behind the desk, coming around to lean against the front of it next to the chair Misaki was sitting in and crossed her arms. She kept her head bowed as she explained, "We'd been scouting him for a sensitive, covert assignment since shortly after the Kamino Incident. We asked him to gain favor with the League of Villains and report back to us with any information he was able to glean about their plans going forward. It's a dangerous assignment, especially if he's discovered."

Horror sharply cascaded through her as an awful possibility dawned on her and she asked in a clearly suspicious tone, "Did you order him to break up with me?"

The President looked back down for a moment before meeting Misaki's gaze once more. "I encouraged him to consider how close he felt comfortable with you being to the job he would be forced to do. It was ultimately his decision."

"But you suggested it," she breathed out caustically.

The President sighed. "You can be angry with me if it makes you feel better."

"No," Misaki shook her head. "It doesn't. It makes me feel worse. I trusted you... Why did you do this to us?" She whispered brokenly, tears starting to prick at the corners of her wide, horrified eyes.

"I judged that the value both of you would bring to this organization in your individual roles was more important than the feelings you may have had for one another," the President responded, slowly and carefully.

Misaki exploded, shooting up out of her chair and crying out, "Are we all just pawns for you to move around a chessboard at your leisure? Does the way we feel about anything matter to you at all?"

"It does, actually," the President replied calmly, staring evenly back into Misaki's heated glare. "Which is why I merely made the suggestion. Curse me as you must, Misaki, but don't kid yourself. Hawks did what he had to do to keep you safe and out of harm's way. Can you honestly say, had you been in his position, that you would not have done the same?"

Misaki recoiled sharply as if she'd just been slapped across the face, sucking in a harsh breath, and clutching her hand to her chest. She hung her head a second later. Knowing that she was about to have a full-on breakdown at any moment, she kept her eyes planted firmly on the ground and asked, "I'm sorry but, could you please excuse me?"

The President's solemn toned voice released her a second later, "You may go."

She practically ran out the door, not stopping until she got to one of the unused conference rooms. She slipped inside quickly, locking the door behind her and leaning back against it. Slowly sliding down to the floor, she covered her mouth with her hand and stared across the room with wide, shocked eyes as tears began streaming in rivers down her face. She clutched her other hand to her chest, struggling to breath around the sobs wracking her body. Her face sharply contorted in pain and she tightly squeezed her eyes shut, more tears spilling from the corners and dripping down onto her pale-yellow cardigan.

She had never felt so well and truly alone since she'd dropped her parents off at the orphanage twelve years ago. It felt like her entire world had just come crashing down around her. Her one last safe haven had become a den of deceit and betrayal. She knew she was being overly critical, but she really didn't care. She'd looked up to that woman; her strength, her resilience, her overall presence that seemed to command authority when she walked into a room. It wouldn't have been a stretch to say that the President was what Misaki aspired to be one day. And now... She had lost almost all of the respect she'd once had for the woman.

What gave her the right? To dictate their lives like they were nothing more than pieces on a game board. To give them hope and then rip it away when it was no longer convenient for her. To say that she was doing it all for the greater good when in reality she was only doing it to help herself. Who the hell did she think she was? All For One?

Misaki's sobs stuttered to a stop and she gasped in a sharp breath. A fresh wave of horror cascaded through her at the thought that had just flashed through her mind. Had she really just compared the President of the Hero Public Safety Commission to the greatest evil their country had ever known? The woman who had given her chance after chance to prove herself and let her feel like she was a part of something meaningful. Who had been worried enough to scold her when she'd made the stupid decision to go alone to an active Hero Killer crime scene, instead of just firing her on the spot like she'd seen her do to others for much more mundane reasons before?

She was well aware of the hours the woman put into her job, along with the hard work and dedication she gave for the duties of her office, but that still didn't forgive the actions she'd taken, nor the way she'd unilaterally manipulated their situation in her favor. Just like Misaki had done to her after mishandling her assignment with Stain, the President had completely abused and broken her trust. She'd been so naïve to think that the shrewd businesswoman had ever seen her as anything more than a cog in the overall machine that was the Hero Public Safety Commission. She could have kicked herself for her own stupidity.

Misaki sniffed and blinked her eyes to shake off a few stray tears, taking a deep, shaky breath in through her nose before letting it out slowly from her mouth. She repeated that action a few times, feeling herself begin to gradually mellow out. Even as painful as it was, she was glad that she finally had her eyes open to the truth. It was cathartic, in a way, to be released from the shortsighted sense of admiration she'd always held for the woman. When she'd finally calmed herself back down, she took a moment to consider what the President had been trying to tell her in her office before she'd left.

Bringing her knees up to her chest, she wrapped her arms around her legs and leaned forward to rest her chin on top of them as she ran back through the meeting in her mind. Hawks was going to be working as a double agent for the Commission to infiltrate the League of Villains. Her eyes widened as she considered the severity of that assignment. Anxiety blossomed through her gut as she began to run through all of the ways that could possibly go wrong. She was in danger from being associated with him? What about the danger he was in? Had either of them stopped to consider that?

She dropped her head with a heavy sigh, resting her forehead against her legs in place of her chin. She knew they had. She also knew that they'd probably deemed the risk to be worth the potential reward. The League of Villains had been growing out of control ever since Hosu, they had to do something quickly if they wanted to get a handle on the situation before Shigaraki and his group could drag anymore innocent lives into the crosshairs. If it had been anyone else's head on the proverbial chopping block she would have wholeheartedly understood. Even though they were no longer together, she still loved him and couldn't help worrying about him.

She raised her head, tipping it back to rest against the door to the conference room as she stared up at the ceiling. He'd told her back when she'd first asked him why he'd become a hero that it hadn't been a choice for him; that it was what he'd been born to do. She'd brushed it off at the time as another one of his usual quips, but as she'd gotten to know him over the next several months, she'd come to understand the truthfulness of those words. The man had always had a heart that was too big for his body. He would give every bit of himself to ensure the safety and wellbeing of as many innocent lives as he possibly could. And if that meant that he had to do some things he wasn't proud of in order to achieve that goal, he would do it without a second thought or a backward glance. That was just who he was: a hero, through and through.

At least, that was who she'd perceived him to be. She still had a hard time believing that everything she knew about him had been nothing more than an elaborate fabrication. He wanted her to believe that his feelings for her were real, while at the same time trying to convince her that hers were based on a lie, and pretty much telling her that he couldn't accept them anymore, being that the case. After she'd gotten over the shock of the entire situation, the anger had begun to settle in. She had no idea where he'd gotten the nerve to give her that kind of ultimatum, but she refused to accept it. They'd been through too much, shared too much, felt too much for all of that to have been a lie. Maybe she didn't really know who he was behind the mask, but to call their entire relationship a sham was utterly ridiculous to her.

While she'd been recovering the day after their breakup, she'd had an opportunity to think back on all the time they'd spent together over the past year. She'd always had the sense that he was holding parts of himself back from her. In the beginning she'd thought it was because he didn't want to burden her. As they'd grown closer, she'd begun to suspect that he just had a hard time opening up to people. He'd told her when they'd gone out to dinner the night before his birthday that he couldn't afford to be vulnerable growing up, something that often led to developing a lack of trust in others. It was just easier to keep people at arm's length; there was less opportunity to get hurt that way.

Looking at it objectively, she could recognize several times throughout the year when he'd subtly shut the door on her and donned his mask. It usually followed a brief moment of honest sincerity. Like the first night he'd taken her to his apartment. He'd been trying to help her out of her grief, and in the process, he'd told her that he trusted her. That had been followed up by a gibe about her movie preferences which had successfully distracted her from the seriousness of his statement at the time. After that was the time he'd asked her to be his girlfriend when he'd come to visit her at her new apartment. The awkwardness of the encounter had left her so flustered that she'd ended up being the one to lighten the mood afterward. She'd given him an out, and he'd taken it.

And then there was Christmas. They'd both been a mess of emotion that night, but it was hands down the most vulnerable she ever remembered him being with her. She'd felt it when he'd kissed her after he'd opened her gift, that she'd given him much more than just a key to her apartment. The love that had practically poured out of him had drawn her into the moment as well and they'd finally confirmed their feelings for each other in the most intimate way possible. No matter how he may try to convince her otherwise, she would never be able to see that experience as anything other than a genuine expression of their love for each other. To call any of what had transpired between them that night a lie was just asking the impossible of her.

There had been other times after that of course; the Sunday morning after her house had sold, the night after the raids at Kamino, and the night he'd taken her out for her birthday, just to name a few. All of those memories represented a moment in their relationship when she'd acknowledged her love for him. Saying that her feelings were shallow enough to be based solely on her concept of him as a person was selling them awful short. It was more about how he made her feel. When he'd gaze at her in open affection, when he'd tell her that he believed in her, when he'd kissed her just because he missed her and brought her flowers for no reason at all, and when he'd hold her so tenderly after making love to her. She was in love with the way he treasured her, so much more than she was with whatever persona he decided to show her.

But it had only ever been a one-way street. By keeping part of himself locked away from her, he hadn't allowed her to offer him the same level of understanding and acceptance. How could he not see her feelings for him as shallow when he wouldn't give her the opportunity to love all of him? He'd assured her that he wanted to, and in a roundabout way, he'd asked her to wait for him. Now that she knew about the volatile assignment he'd accepted, it made sense to her why he'd said that he wasn't able to open up to her right now. He'd acknowledged that there was an imbalance within their relationship, and he'd expressed a desire to resolve it, he just needed her to give him some time and space to work through things on his own first. The best thing she could do to support him right now was to let him go.

Besides, she had her own problems to be working through at the moment.

Misaki rubbed her face on the back of her sleeve and rose to her feet, dusting off the skirt of her dark blue dress and lifting her chin. Rolling her shoulders back, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath in through her nose before letting it out slowly through her mouth. When she opened her eyes again, they were clear. Determined. Focused. Turning around, she exited the conference room and returned to her desk. Leaving a note for the President that she was taking the rest of the day off, she picked up her handbag from underneath the desk and grabbed her phone from the top drawer before heading for the elevator.

It was time to do some renovating.

The President stepped off the elevator the next day, stopping short at the sight of Misaki typing at her computer. After the confrontation they'd had the previous day, and considering the note she'd found on the young woman's desk afterward, she hadn't really been expecting to see her at the office so early, if at all.

Misaki rose from behind her desk with a pleasant, professional smile as the President slowly made her way toward the office behind her. "Good morning, Madam President. I have today's projected billboard chart ratings for your review. May I get you your morning tea to start your day?"

"Please..." The President trailed off, placing her coat over Misaki's outstretched arm, and taking the offered report from her hand.

She bowed her head courteously before holding the office door open for the President to enter, informing her graciously, "I'll bring it in to you in just a moment."

The President nodded as she stepped into her office. As the door closed behind her, she turned her gaze to Shadou, who was sitting in the seating area on the left-hand side of her office and incredulously asked, "Did you see that?"

He tossed the magazine he'd been perusing back onto the coffee table and stood, sliding his hands into his pockets, and walking over to stand by the President's desk. "The girl's tougher than I gave her credit for."

The President set the report on her desk and contemplated aloud, "I knew she was strong, but to bounce back like that overnight... Something had to have happened."

"Should I call Hawks?" The man asked suspiciously.

"No..." The President trailed off thoughtfully, moving to sit behind the desk. "I don't think it had anything to do with him."

Misaki entered the office with the President's tea, setting the cup on her desk before bowing with a small smile and returning to her own desk. They both watched her actions carefully, looking for any signs of depression or malice, and both finding none.

The President narrowed her eyes over her teacup. Something was definitely different about the woman, and it wasn't just her new clothes. The formfitting, sky blue pencil skirt and almost sheer white blouse were a far cry from her normal dark, A-line dresses; not to mention the stilettos she'd noticed clicking against the tile floor as she'd walked into the office. Her entire demeanor seemed to exude a sophisticated grace and subtle confidence that she had always believed her to harbor but had never seen displayed so openly before.

Most women when they experienced such a significant, life altering event went out and did something to make themselves feel better. Like changing their hairstyle or getting a facial, maybe buying a new pair of shoes. Misaki had apparently done all of the above. Not that any part of her new look had been a drastic change. From wearing her hair down and styled instead of pulled back, to donning a bit of lipstick and blush; all subtle changes, but significant for her. One thing that had been obvious to the President, but only because she'd been looking for it, was the absence of the necklace Hawks had given her for her birthday. That kind of gift typically meant only one thing: possessiveness.

Since it had reached that point, she'd known that it would be hard on them to end it, but it was a risk she'd deemed necessary for the sake of the greater good. Before it could go any further, she'd needed to ensure that they were both focused solely on the big picture. She'd known Hawks would understand and that he would do what needed to be done. It was what he'd been trained for. But Misaki... Her reaction had been the only errant value in the equation. Either she would accept his decision and move on, securing her position as a valuable asset to the cause. Or she would reject it, in which case it was likely that her remaining time within the Commission would be cut short before she could make any real difference.

The President had hoped, given her evaluation of her character over the past ten months, that Misaki would err on the side of acceptance. However, her depression had hit her harder than she'd anticipated. She'd given her a week or so to show some sign of improvement, but she appeared either unable, or unwilling to break herself out of her grief. That was why she'd decided to tell her about the assignment. It had been a gamble, for sure. Misaki would likely see her actions as a betrayal of sorts. But it was either that or let her flounder through her depression until she would eventually be forced to let her go.

She'd reacted about how she'd expected her to, with anger and pain. After Misaki had run out of her office yesterday, she'd prepared herself for the worst.

"I walked into this building this morning expecting to find a resignation letter on my desk and instead, I find that," the President said, breaking herself out of her musings. "If I didn't know better, I would have wondered if she'd somehow managed to restore her mind to a time before the breakup."

The man narrowed his eyes and asked in a suspicious tone, "You think she's in denial?"

The President smirked, leaning forward, and clasping her hands in front of her face on the desk as she stared at the wall behind where Misaki's desk sat. "If she was, she'd be wearing the necklace. No, I think she did exactly what I hoped she would. She finally accepted it. She made the decision to prioritize her duty over her feelings. She's finally starting to become what I hoped she could be since I first encountered her last December."

"What's that?" He asked, turning toward her.

The President's cool blue eyes began to shine with excitement as she said, "My successor."

~ Author's Note ~

Oh, snap! Madam President has some pretty big plans for Misa-chan… Now that Misaki's eyes have been opened to the truth, will she even want to follow in the President's footsteps? Or will she make her own path from here on out? Something tells me she'll be making some big decisions about the President's plans for her very soon…

Thank you so much for reading :)

LOLSAT