Fate's Fickle Wings

by winterziyle

It begins with a Lightbulb falling from a balcony. Fate sets in motion the beginning of a another Upheaval, that will leave their society changed again - though - whether they all come out of it alive will be entirely in the hands of those they call heroes, and whom Hawks comes to call family.

4. Chapter 4: A Week

Chapter Four: A Week

Hawks stared at the carnage throughout the street. Trees were torn up, cars and trucks upturned and smashed into several buildings that had crumbled from the impact.

"I leave for a night, Bubbles." He looked over at his poor, dishevelled sidekick, hovering beside him. "One night." He stressed. "How the hell did this happen, when I was away for one night?"

Bubble covered her face, her watery hair turning into foam. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault." He inhaled. And, really, it wasn't. It was just their rotten luck it had all unfolded when it had, and he was doubtful that even if he had been in the city, he'd have been much help. By the time he'd have arrived, most of the damage would have already been done.

"How many civilians are hurt?"

"No one died, thank goodness. Medusa was on scene almost immediately; he was with a patrol in the area. He was able to administer first aid rapidly to those who were injured. Overall, about ten in critical condition, and fifty-eight suffered minor injuries."

Hawks frowned. From the look of the scene itself, he'd expected worse. He presumed that was due to the swift action of his sidekick. Medusa was extremely well trained in crisis management.

"Alright. Tell me what happened." Hawks held out a hand and Bubbles passed over a file.

"I presume you know about the young heroine known as Mt. Lady?"

Hawks arched an eyebrow, recalling the incident that baby birdie Izuku had been involved in. Mt. Lady had also been present there. It seemed her management team were trying to ease her into the public eye step by step. "She has made her debut then?"

"Technically no..." Bubble winced.

"Right. So, she was in my city, because?" Hawks hissed his frustration. This was the sort of information he liked to have ahead of time, so he could make informed decisions. If he'd known Mt. Lady was in his city, he wouldn't have left. Why didn't he get a memo on her movements? Who was he going to have to pin to a wall about this?

"To see you…" Bubbles sighed heavily, causing her watery form to fizz. "There was no paperwork sent through about any of it. She made an impromptu decision, without telling her support crew."

"Well, that was dumb."

"She didn't mean this to happen." Bubbles placated. "She ran into a villain and misjudged his quirk. Frankly, Hawks, we're lucky the two of them didn't take out a whole neighbourhood. The damage could have been horrendous. She's well trained to have kept the collateral this contained."

Hawks flipped through the file. "I suppose your assessment is one way to look at it. I'll take it into consideration. Thank you, Bubbles, for handling the situation. I appreciate your diligence. You and the others continue to do incredible work."

"Thank you, sir." Bubbles inclined her head. "Ah…did your…trip go okay?"

Hawks rubbed his neck as he kicked back in the air. "Well, I learnt that I needed to learn. So, I suppose it was a productive trip." He threw her a wiry smile. "I'd have been in a better mood if you'd have left me alone for another hour this morning, before inundating me with messages."

"Why?"

"Oh, I don't know, Bubbles." He glided past her. "Use your brilliant detective skills. I mean, I did hire you because you're smart."

Bubbles pouted. "I'd at least appreciate a clue, then, sir."

He looked back at her, grinning. "How do you screw a lightbulb?"

"Sir?"

He flicked out both hands. "I didn't. Bubbles. I didn't."

She shook her head. "I have no idea why I put up with you."

"Cause I pay your bills." He called back. "Come on, I want to visit the hospital first."

"Yes sir."

000

His handlers had taken his name.

They'd taken his identity and stripped it from him. They had not raised him kindly. There had been no love, no affection, it had been a transaction. His mother had sold him, and yet, he still—he still could not bring himself to hate her for the action. He was just left with a hollowness that collected rage and hatred from time to time, at the pitifulness of society, which had driven a woman to sell her son to a governmental organization that professed the betterment of all mankind.

When he'd finally begun to spread his wings beyond the Commission, daring to taunt them with just how far he'd take his bids for freedom, he'd had no idea who—or what—he was beyond a vague notion of the hero he'd painted as a child. It was an idealistic image, and he knew his already blood-soaked wings would never reach such heights, but it was the only shattered piece of himself he had to cling to. It had been disconcerting to be thrust into the world without a name, without a self-image to even imprint on himself. He'd had to build one, like fixing a shattered mirror, piece by piece.

Best Jeanist was probably the closest thing he had to what people called 'best friend', and had been the only person he'd felt comfortable not smiling around, and relaxing around. Jeanie had seen him in some of his worst states after some of his worst Commission assignments, and that tended to build a level of trust. Jeanie had also been the one who'd given him room to explore who he was outside of the Commissions box, beyond a child solider, beyond a spy and assassin. It had started at a tattoo parlour, late one evening when Jeanie had been visiting Fukuoka. He'd been around seventeen, barely on the hero circuit, and they'd taken down their first major villain as a tag-team.

It'd felt good. It was a feeling he'd liked. Finally—he was helping people.

Somehow, Jeanie had convinced him to get a tattoo, a matching one. They both had it, on their left shin. It still made him smile, every time he thought of it, or saw it. It was the funniest, stupidest thing ever, and he was pretty sure that's why Jeanie had proposed it. Jeanie was number three on the ranks for a reason.

Hawks looked across the street at the tattoo parlour's soft light in the late night. Bucket's Tatts. It was a self-exploratory name he supposed. Bucket was the tattoo artist and his partner; Floral was the jeweller. She was the best jeweller in all Fukuoka, but was a bit of a hidden gem herself. She didn't advertise, knowledge of her services came all from word of mouth. Hawks glanced around the near deserted street and quickly dashed across the road, swinging into the shop with a jingle of the bell on the door.

"Hey Floral."

He caught a squeak of surprise from behind the counter. "Hawks?!"

Pink—dare he say, floral—hair appeared as a woman bounced up. "Oh my gosh! Bucket! Bucket! Get down here. It's Hawks!"

He rolled his eyes as he was immediately assaulted in a hug. Intense, flowery perfume assaulted him, as well as pink hair and clothes. It was all—way too much. "Personal space, Floral."

"Sorry. Sorry." She pulled away quickly. "It's just been ages." She flipped the closed sign on the door, locking it. "Want coffee?"

"I need coffee." Hawks thumped himself down on one of the tattoo chairs, spinning around playfully. "I've had a day."

"Yeah, I saw that villain attack on the news. Something about a new hero…what's her name…"

"Mt. Lady."

"Is she joining your agency?" Floral worked happily at the coffee machine.

"No."

"Well, that was definite."

"I have a tolerance level. She broke it without even meeting me."

Floral laughed. "Ouch. Brutal. Poor darling, she must be worse than me."

Hawks smiled. "You don't get offended when I tell you to back off."

She handed him a coffee, in an oversized mug. "Sweetie, I am self-aware enough to know I'm all touchy-feely and you're all…not…"

People didn't respect that there was only a certain level of pain someone could tolerate before any physical interaction became intolerable. He doubted it even occurred to someone who bumped into him on the street that his wings could feel pain. Once it had been his father, beating him, then it had been his handlers in the Commission, trying to see just how far they could push him. Now it was just society in general that he disliked anywhere in the vicinity of his wingspan.

The past few days, he'd been very 'touchy-feely' as Floral so endearingly put it. Now all he wanted was to just hightail it back to the faraday cage of comfort Rilo seemed to create. It was a jarring contradiction to what he was used to, but it wasn't unpleasant. If anything, it made him feel so much more alive.

"Thanks Floral." He grinned at her, and his coffee.

"We've all got our quirks, sweetie." Floral shrugged.

"Well, well, would you look at that. If it ain't the birdie hero."

Hawks glanced up from his coffee to smile at the hulk of a man leaning on a doorframe that lead to the stairs into the small house above the shop. Bucket had a towering frame a lot of heroes would have appreciated, but it wasn't at all intimidating, not even with the intricate tattoos that coated his arms, chest and legs, inked onto turquoise skin. He liked that about Bucket and Floral. They were exactly what they looked like. Blue. Pink. Humble. Loud. They were genuine, and they didn't care that he wore a snarky mask.

From what he'd been able to uncover, Bucket had once been a fireman, back in his youth, which was where he'd earnt his nickname. Bucket. While Hawks had never actually seen him use his quirk, he knew it was water related, which, as it turned out, was Fukuoka's average type-quirk over the population. There had been an accident, resulting in a death, and while Hawks had never fished deep enough to uncover everything that had transpired, he'd at least learnt enough that Bucket had left the fire department in a cloud of guilt.

He'd never used his quirk since.

"What brings you here, birdie hero? Haven't you got an enormous mess to clean up?" Bucket thumped down in the chair beside him.

"I do. I do." Hawks set his mug aside. "But you know me, always on the go."

"Always looking like your dead on your feet." Floral commented over her shoulder as she swept up the shop.

"I never get enough coffee." Hawks retorted.

"Or too much." Bucket grumbled.

Hawks held up his hands. "Not here to get lectured about my life choices. I'm here about two things. First one is…" Hawks dug around in his jacket, pulling out several photocopied sheets. "I wanted to ask your professional opinion on these quirk modifications."

Bucket's brow lifted. He tugged out a pair of glasses from the pocket of his shirt. "Quirk mods? You're not trying to get my shop shutdown, are you?"

"Why, are you illegally providing quirk modifications?" Hawks cocked his head to one side.

"Don't ask questions I can't answer." Bucket snorted as he accepted the papers.

"What I don't know, I can't report." Hawks flippantly waved a hand.

Bucket didn't answer, absorbed in the papers he flipped through. "What the hell is this…" the burly man looked up at him, appearing paler. "Hawks, is this real?"

Hawks nodded.

"Is this from one of the cases you work?" Bucket refocused on the files. "Some sicko mutilated their kid again, or something?"

"No. No it's not a police case, though, I am…well…I suppose it is something I am working on. I guess, what I wanted to know, was your thoughts on the modification itself. I don't know enough about quirk modifications to know why, or how…or what it's even…doing…"

"Well, I can tell you it's not for her benefit. This isn't a modification to enhance a quirk." Bucket held out one of the scans Recovery Girl had taken and Hawks winced at it. "This is designed purely to extract energy; you can actually see how these nodules here are fused and calcified to her—"

"No." Hawks held up his hands. "No, don't. I can't," he choked out.

Bucket arched an eyebrow at his pale face. Floral paused from her cleaning, looking at them in concern.

"Wait. You have a stronger stomach than this." Bucket slapped the file down. "Okay. Who is this? Hawks…"

Hawks sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair, bunching it up.

"I haven't seen anything like this, not in the hero or the villain market." Bucket narrowed his eyes. "This girl is an electric type. Electric type quirks are always trying to boost their range, or their capabilities, but I've never come across something that looks like it's designed to literally use one as a power source on a mega scale. Sure, I've had Old Saki down the street charge my car from time to car, but…he just needs to just poke the damn thing to make it go. We don't plug him into it." Bucket scowled. "That' be damn weird."

Hawks glanced over at Floral. "This…doesn't leave this room. Ever."

She reached behind the counter. "The cameras off, Hawks."

"Thanks." He turned back to Bucket. Taking a deep breath, he settled himself. "Alright. So, a couple days ago I stumbled into something terrifying. I'm still processing it. On the bright side though, I found a future wifey." He smiled as Floral suddenly smothered him again.

"Personal space, Floral."

"Sorry. Sorry!"

"Ah. I get it now. This is your bird." Bucket tapped the file against his chin. "You wouldn't have come here if it wasn't." He sunk back in the chair, frowning at the printouts again.

"I can't use official channels to look into this." Hawks shook his head. "Everything I do, I'm going to have to do it from underground."

"What's she involved in? A villain ring?"

"No." Hawks shook his head. "Worse."

"What's worse than a villain ring?" Floral sat back on the counter.

"The government." Hawks and Bucket replied in sync.

"Ah." Floral huffed. "Right. Well, aren't we being a little bunch of anarchists. I don't want you two plotting to blow up governmental buildings in my shop. I'll boot you both into Tartarus for it."

"That'd probably were the Commission would send me if they found out half the things I do behind their backs." Hawks muttered.

Bucket chuckled. "Keep being a pain in their arse, Hawks."

"Oh, I intend to." Hawks sipped the last of his coffee. He motioned to the files. "She's being used as a powerplant." Hawks motioned to the lights in the shop. "Our whole electrical grid, it's run off electrical quirks. It has been…for decades. I haven't yet figured out just how many are stuck inside this electrical grid, but according to her, it's been going on since quirks first emerged. It's a whole corporate slave industry of sorts. I think they take them the moment their quirks manifest, install the quirk mods, and that's it, that's their life, to power…everything. But I'm not sure…" Hawks shook his head. "Something feels off. I feel like I'd be able to find evidence of generations of electrical quirks just…going missing…but…"

Bucket nodded slowly. "Specialised breeding program?"

Hawks winced. "I was leaning into that, while also trying not to think about it."

Floral covered her mouth. "Oh my gosh." She ran from the room and Hawks winced as he heard the bathroom door slap shut.

Bucket glanced around, shouting. "Honey, you alright?"

"No." The shout replied.

"Ah, she'll be fine." Bucket waved nonchalantly. "Right, well, now I can understand why there is no failsafe on the mod. Wouldn't be required if they're just wanting to draw enormous amounts of power." Bucket flipped through the papers again. "Are you wanting me to have a go at removing the mods?"

Hawks shook his head. "She's Fukuoka's Powerplant."

"Ah, well, that complicates matters." Bucket huffed.

Floral emerged from the bathroom, wiping her mouth.

"Sorry, Floral. Didn't mean to drop that on you." Hawks stood, offering her a hug, just for good manners.

"Now I never want to turn on a light again." She bemoaned into his shoulder.

"If it makes you feel better, she's actually rather proud that she provides power to the entire city. She loves the lights. It brings her a lot of joy." Hawks sat back on the tattoo chair. He tugged out the feather from his jacket pocket, holding it out to Floral. "My second reason for coming was to ask if you could make a pendant with this."

Floral sucked in a sharp breath. "You come by for the first visit in months, Hawks, and slap me with an ugly truth around mass quirk abuse, and now you ask me to handle something so delicate."

"I wouldn't trust anyone else but the best jeweller in all Fukuoka with this."

She huffed. "Flattery gets you everything." Floral carefully took the feather. "Is it for the bird?"

Hawks pinched his nose. "She likes wearing it tucked between her breasts. It is taking me a bit to get used to."

Bucket snorted in amusement. "Damn, I like her already. She's got you figured out."

Hawks kicked the burley man's leg.

"Yeah, invading your personal space, without actually invading your personal space. Smart." Floral slipped the feather into a wooden box, tucking it away behind the counter.

Bucket heaved himself to his feet. "Can I keep these?" He held out the papers.

Hawks nodded. "There isn't anything in them that leads back to me, but try to keep them tucked away."

"Will do. In the meantime, I'll see if I can come up with any possible way to work around the power regulation. It might be possible to install a controller on our end, and we could slowly alter the levels of her power output."

"Make it seem like she's not outputting as much?" Hawks wondered.

"I won't know until I look into it more, but, it might be a way to cut her loose, by making her seem obsolete to these…people..."

"Thanks, Bucket." Hawks breathed out. The heaviness on his shoulders, it felt a little lighter.

Bucket rolled up the papers, bonking him on the head. "Try and just enjoy being in a relationship. You're young and fit, and life is supposed to be good."

Hawks flopped back on the tattoo chair. "I'm too busy. I didn't even get to have sex on the weekend."

Floral burst into laughter. "Oh, the poor little birdie. The fastest hero in Japan, and no time for sex."

Bucket shook his head at his wife. "Leave the kid alone, Floral. Come on, Hawks, you can use the roof to jump off."

Hawks dragged himself upright. "Thanks." He waved to Floral. "Text me when the pendant is done."

"Got a theme, or do you just want me to wing it?"

"Well." Hawks paused at the stairs. "Kissing her is like breathing in lightning, while standing on the surface of a star."

Floral leant over the counter, her smile wistful. "Ohhh, okay, that gives me something to work with." Suddenly, her smile expanded, and she slapped the countertop gleefully. "You know, Hawks, if that's what kissing is like, just imagine what—"

"Floral!" Bucket thumped back down the stairs.

Hawks laughed as he was grabbed by the collar of his jacket and hauled up the stairs. "Bye Floral."

0000

Keigo sat up. He couldn't sleep. The bed in the agency lodge felt stiff and hard against his wing junctions. It never had before, but, now it did. He'd fallen asleep so effortlessly the night before, with Rilo tucked up beside him. Never had he felt so comfortable having someone in his wingspan, and not just in his wingspan, but soothingly cloistered against him. Tugging his knees to his chest, he laughed wearily. His brain wasn't going to turn off. Not when he had so many things to sort out.

Barely five days ago he'd been whinging about loneliness and the hollowness of an empty apartment, and then he'd responded to his quirk and caught a pretty shiny lightbulb, and now he couldn't put her down without feeling that emptiness again.

But was that his quirk, or new emotions, or were they the same—or was this all normal?

Keigo frowned, staring at the ruffled bed sheets.

"I don't even know what love or attachment is…" he whispered. "How am I supposed to navigate this."

He flopped back. "Do I just let it play out? Am I thinking too hard? I am, aren't I?" The ceiling wasn't going to answer him, but he figured it'd have said yes, if it could. "I'm going to fuck it up." He rolled over, flopping an arm and wing over the side of the bed. "But I suppose that's expected, right?"

And the lamp wasn't going to answer him, but he was sure it would have said yes, if it could have.

"Alright, Wings." Keigo scrubbed at his hair. "You win. I'll play ball, I'll follow you into this…you never lead me wrong."

He groaned, scrubbing at his face. "I can't believe it's only been five days since we met, and I can't sleep because I miss her. Oh no, I'm clingy." He sat up suddenly. "No…no…I have a clingy personality. Do I? Oh no, no, no. Stop. Brain. Stop. Stop."

Keigo rolled off the bed, yanking on a pair of track pants. He snatched his mobile from the bedside table. It was barely two in the morning. "I need coffee."

He slipped out of the room into the dimly lit corridor. The lodge was an area of the agency that usually housed guests, or his sidekicks during events when they either didn't feel like making it home, or—like the situation they were in now—an event had occurred that required them to remain at the agency. Usually, one or two of his sidekicks remained at the agency 'on-call' overnight, and rotational shifts were taken. He had no idea who organized it, probably Bubbles, all he knew was that sometimes, he was rostered on, and it always felt like villains waited until his night to muck up his city.

Lousy tossers.

He snuck his way down the corridor, heading for the main lounge area and kitchen. A light was already on, and he crossed his fingers, hoping Bubbles wasn't up. She was amazing, and he couldn't have run the agency without her, but he could not have endured a lecture from her at two in the morning.

"Mt. Lady?" Keigo halted in surprise at the lounge entrance. Right—yes—of course—the young heroine was lodging at the agency. He'd signed off on that—hadn't he? Yep. Yep. He had. He vaguely remembered doing that. Something about taking responsibility for her while her support crew ran around begging forgiveness to the Commission, so they'd let her keep her licence.

She slowly lifted her head off the table, revealing puffy, tear-stained cheeks. She hadn't even bothered to brush her hair. Instead, it was all knotted up in an unruly bun that was going to be a nightmare to loosen.

"You look like how I feel, muffin cheeks." Hawks made a beeline for the coffee machine.

She gave a whimper, sinking lower into her seat.

"Not to worry, coffee solves all problems." He crouched, opening a cupboard, and searching for his prized stash of expensive coffee beans. He kept them tucked away from the evilness of The Twins, his newest sidekicks. Very quickly he'd discovered they had no respect for refined coffee tastes, and banning them from the coffee machine had done nothing. They still used it, and his beans. He wasn't sure if it was now some sort of game to them, or if they were waiting to see if he'd drop them from the stratosphere for being so annoying.

"I'm such an idiot." Mt. Lady bemoaned.

"This is true."

"You didn't have to agree with me!"

Hawks opened the fridge with several feathers, summoning the milk to him and pouring it into the steamer. The feathers whizzed around, opening overhead cupboards, and lifting out mugs along with an assortment of chocolate cookies. Everything slid onto the table without a noise and Mt. Lady thumped her head down with a groan.

"Why are you so perfect."

He scoffed at the comment. Wow. Perfect. The perfect smile. The perfect performance. The perfect spy. The perfect killer. The perfect hero.

"Practice makes perfect." He poured boiled water through the ground coffee beans.

And now he really wished he was home—

Though he had no idea when Rilo's studio apartment had been dubbed home in his mind, maybe because she lived there, and she his whole quirk was reorganizing itself like a magnetic field being flipped.

He just liked the person he was around her. It wasn't some projection he forced out into the world, like a constantly maintained photograph.

He was just Keigo.

Here—even in the agency—around others—around everyone else—he was Hawks.

Picking up the mugs he carefully headed to the small dining table, sliding a mug over to Mt. Lady. He dragged back a chair and slumped into it, watching in amusement as Mt. Lady just blew bubbles into her coffee.

She was a sorry state. Honestly, he wasn't even sure what to do with her. He sighed. Right, he had to think like Jeanie. He had to channel Jeanie. What would Best Jeanist do?

"Has your support crew talked to you about what environment your quirk might be best suited too?" He asked.

Mt. Lady shrugged. "There has been some discussion about it, I suppose." She sipped the coffee, a small smile touching her lips. "Oh, wow, this is good."

"I know. Savour it. I rarely share my stash."

She brightened up, bouncing as she enjoyed the coffee.

"Then, have they suggested you'd perhaps be better suited to more rural areas." Hawks leant forward, leaning his chin on a hand. He was honestly curious to know if her support crew had made the suggestion, and if she'd been the one to reject it. Often younger heroes sought the prestige of inner-city work, especially the heroines. He'd overheard a lot of the bigwigs in the Commission bellyache about how they struggled to find heroes to hold down jobs out in the rural towns.

Frankly, he'd have been happy to live a life out in the mountains somewhere. So much more room to fly. He and Rilo could raise a whole bunch of little aviators. Peace and quiet. He'd finally get to sleep in and just watch the world go by without rushing.

Mt. Lady frowned. "Well. No. I don't think it was raised."

"Hm. Interesting." Hawks scratched his chin.

"Why?"

"A lot of the rural districts struggle to keep their heroes, and they desperately need them. Your quirk would honestly suit areas outside of the city limits much better. Even one of the islands, or the costal towns. That's where I'd have looked at stationing you, but, hmp, I'm not your support team." He shrugged. "I don't know what they're aiming for in regards to your image and overall…" Hawks flapped a hand about. "Debut."

"Can I have some more? Please?" She held out her empty mug.

Hawks rolled his eyes. "You know, I highly doubt you have my metabolism and tolerance for coffee. This is going to keep you awake."

"I wasn't planning on sleeping." She pouted.

"Ahah." He heaved himself off his chair, taking her mug back to the counter with his own. He set the machine to boil again.

"Have a serious think about what I said," he commented over his shoulder. "I know the work isn't as flashy, and you heroines have this thing about…ah…" he clicked his fingers. "Sponsors? Yeah. All those fashion magazines and weird shite."

"It's important."

He snorted.

"You do sponsorships though, right?"

"Sure." He smiled. "Though, if you asked Bubbles, she'd whine about how I'm this bastion of a bachelor cause all the sponsors I have are all single male orientated and unbelievably boring. I literally just like a particular type of deodorant, that's all."

"She's right. You are boring. You really need to work on your brand."

"Brand?" He laughed. "I'm a hero, not a brand name."

"But that's all my support crew focus on."

"Then tell them to fuck off."

"I did and look what happened." Mt. Lady flung out her arms. "I screwed up!"

He turned towards her. "Yeah, you did, and that's okay. We've got your back."

"So…you're not angry at me."

"Ah, no, I'm pissed. You put a lot of people in hospital—"

"That was the villain—"

"No. You did." He thumped the empty mugs down. "Every injury that happens while we're on a scene is our responsibility. Which is why, tomorrow, you're visiting the hospital with me so you can apologise in person."

Her shoulders slumped.

"And then, we're going back to the scene, to help clean up, because our job doesn't just finish after we defeat a villain." He sighed. "And you need to learn that. You can expect your support crew will be getting a really, really nicely worded letter from me about your lack of hero edict."

She clutched her hands together.

"You really are perfect."

"Hardly. What I am is very tired and very irritated."

"At me?"

"Surprisingly, you're about thirty percent of the irritation." He glanced over his shoulder. "I'd be so much less annoyed if Bubbles had left me alone for one more hour yesterday morning." He poured out the coffee. "One day, Bubbles, I will get my revenge—"

Hawks paused as his mobile rung. He clunked the coffee pot down and tugged the phone out, holding it to his ear as he worked.

"Hey, babe." He glanced at his watch. "What are you doing up? It's two-thirty…what…no, yes, of course I'm up. I don't need sleep. Wait…no…Rilo, babe, stop. Stop. Stop. Calm down." He squeezed shut his eyes. "Okay, I'm sorry, I should have called earlier. Everything is fine, and no, this literally had nothing to do with us going away. It was just happenstance. Yes. I swear." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know when I'm going to get home, but I'll try to drop in when I can. Hm. Yeah. I love you too. Please, try to sleep. You need it. Yes, this is me telling you that you're being emotional and irrational and that everything is, in fact, fine."

He laughed.

"I know, I am a handsome jackass. Go to sleep. I love you. Go to sleep."

He sighed, flicking the phone in the air before dropping it back into the deep pocket of his track pants. He collected the two mugs form the countertop and turned.

Wait—

Two mugs.

Hawks stared at Mt. Lady in a slow, gradual realisation that crept up his wings as a shiver. Oh—she'd been there—the entire conversation. Wow. Oh wow. His brain had actually turned off.

"So, I'm going to presume, from the ashen look on your face, that you just had a brain fart and completely forgot I was in this room." Mt. Lady grinned, cocking her head to one side.

Hawks slumped his shoulders back, his wings going limp. He swore.

"And by that reaction. I believe I am correct." Mt. Lady slapped her hands together.

Hawks set the coffee mugs down, collapsing into the chair and folding his arms over his head.

Mt. Lady started giggling at him. "Oh, my gosh…you're embarrassed."

"Shut up."

"This is so adorable."

"Please shut up."

"Wait." She gasped. "Wait. Does no one know? Oh! They don't. Your sidekicks don't know!"

She made that weird squealing sound that girls made when excited. Hawks sighed. He should just be glad it hadn't been a slipup that'd have caused someone's death. He'd made some of those, not many, but a few over the years. He wearily dragged himself upright, taking his coffee and taking a long drink.

Oh well.

He was a feather to the whim of fate.

"Don't worry." Mt. Lady held a hand to her chest. "I swear, nothing from my lips."

It didn't have to come from her lips. People acted differently when they knew things. Sometimes that's all it took.

"I really appreciate that, Muffin Cheeks."

"Okay, what's her name? Is she a heroine? Where did you meet her? Ohhh, I need to know everything."

He flicked her forehead with a feather. "Nope."

"Oh, come on. Please." She rubbed her forehead, pouting.

Hawks took a cookie from the plate between them. "Tell you what, if…and I do mean if…you perform adequately tomorrow, I'll show you picture of my stunningly beautiful girlfriend."

"You're bribing me."

He shrugged. "Is it working?"

"Yes." Mt. Lady mumbled, sinking low in her seat with a pout.

Hawks held out the plate of cookies. "Cookie?"

0000

In terms of agencies, Hawks' hero agency was relatively young – he'd established it when he was seventeen, and had kept himself solo for a while. Bubbles had lived in trepidation for months after submitting her application to his first ever sidekick call out.

Everyone in her family, apart from her father, had thought it a useless endeavour to apply. There was no way that Hawks, rising gallantly in the hero ranks, would have even tossed a glance at her application.

She hadn't gone to a particularly prestigious hero school, but her grades had been good, and well rounded. What she felt she could offer was organizational skills, something she knew she excelled in. If hero work hadn't work out, she'd applied to several business schools, and investigated an accounting job as well. She didn't want to fail her family, especially her father.

As it turned out, she hadn't really needed to worry.

But it hadn't been her grades, or her school, or her skills in accounting and business that had earnt her the job—sure—those had helped—

Hawks had, along with the request for sidekick applications, asked for a single page writeup about why the applicant wanted to go into hero work. She'd wrote about her father, about his accident, and how, since that day, she'd wanted nothing more than to sit by his bed and tell him stories about all the amazing heroes, so she could see him smile again. To do that, she'd figured she'd have to work in the industry to really know the heroes.

She'd been out on a walk one day, taking a rest on her usual park bench when the Wing Hero himself had leant over her with a charming smile, his wings shading her from the glare of the sun. "I liked what you wrote about your dad, it was really touching."

And in that moment, looking onto warm golden eyes that reflected the sun, she realised he wasn't the playboy everyone made him out to be. He was a complete enigma. Though the tabloids did get right his love of chicken, maybe because people thought it ironic or something that someone with an aviation quirk enjoyed chicken. Weirdly though, no one ever commented on his addiction to coffee. How on one ever noticed he almost always had coffee in his hand was a bit odd.

He also, really—really—hated admin duties. He was basically allergic to anything that required him sitting still for long lengths of time. He got better at it as time went on, but sometimes he still fidgeted like a schoolboy itching for recess.

Working for Hawks wasn't easy.

But she hadn't signed up for something easy.

She pretty much ran the agency, and Hawks would admit that to anyone who asked him. If they were ever interviewed, he always turned to her for answers on anything agency related. Ah, he probably knew more than he let on. He wasn't an idiot, on the contrary, he was almost too brilliant, and that was part of the issue. He had other stuff to do, and agency work just wasn't it. So, she'd married herself to the Hawks agency—this—this was her life.

And she was totally fine with it.

Her mother, not so much. Nothing ever seemed to please her. Her father, though, he finally smiled when she walked through the door. He lit up at her stories of all the adventures she got to tell him about the things she learnt down the grapevine. Being connected to an agency had its perks. He could no longer go out into the world, but she could bring a little bit of it back home to him.

If only her mother would stop nagging that she was not being the perfect, dutiful daughter, by refusing to marry some tarty snob picked out only because he had a matching quirk and solid family money.

She'd make her own money, and marry someone she thought was interesting—like Medusa. Whoops. Nope. She was not supposed to think about male colleagues.

"Hey, Aiya."

Bubbles looked up. Her younger brother stood in the doorway to her bedroom. His mop of watery hair fizzled and popped in a show of excitement. She smiled, noticing he'd tried to tint his blue skin with red makeup around his eyes. He was getting creative, daring to step out of their mother's grasp. She had a feeling their father was probably encouraging it behind the scenes.

"Hey, sorry, Hayese, I'm late so I can't stay for breakfast. I was just dropping home to grab clothes and toiletries."

"No, no, that's fine." He waved. "I saw the callout on Hawks website, about needing help with the clean-up after the villain attack yesterday—"

"Oh, thank goodness that went up. I thought The Twins had forgotten about it." Bubbles muttered.

"Yeah, it's up. Anyway. Would it be cool if my volleyball team came down to help after school?"

"That'd be wonderful, Hayese, thanks."

"Yeah, that'd be great, Hayese, thanks."

Bubbles squeaked, jerking around to stare at the open window of her bedroom. Hawks was casually leaning on the windowsill, smiling at them.

"Hi Hawks!" Hayese laughed.

"Yo, Mini-Bubbles."

"Thanks again for coming to my game last month." Hayese bowed.

"Wait, he what?" Bubbles spluttered. "Since…since when has he…"

"Since I started. You didn't know?" Hayese stared at her in confusion.

Bubbles slowly turned to Hawks in disbelief. "You go to his games?"

"Well, you can't go, and your father can't. I try to at least make one or two when I can. Might get a bit harder soon, Mini-Bubbles. I'm going to be getting pretty busy this year, but, if you make it into the finals, count me in." Hawks gave a thumbs up.

Hayese grinned. "We're so there!" With a bounce of his school bag, Hayese vanished down the corridor.

Bubbles smacked shut the bedroom door and made a beeline for the window.

"Hawks! What are you doing here?"

"You're late." He flicked her forehead. "Come on, Bubbles. Can't do a press junket without my darling sidekick."

"You do press junkets without me all the time." She grumbled, shouldering her backpack.

He leant through the window, shaking his head. "I do, but, this week I am torturing you, mercilessly, for that one hour I did not get on the weekend."

"Oh my gosh. I am so sorry I did my job and called you about a disaster. I am so, so sorry you didn't get to sleep in on your holiday." She whined, dripping her voice in mockery.

He laughed. His smile was warm as he swept back from the window, letting her climb out to join him.

"You're so sweet. Sure. I was totally sleeping. You keep thinking that's exactly what I was doing, darling, innocent little Bubbles." He winked as he twirled away.

Bubbles huffed, stomping after him. "You need more sleep, Hawks."

"So you keep telling me, and this is me ignoring you."

000

Hawks was meticulous about clean-up after villain attacks. Coordinating with local authorities, builders, and volunteers. He could get an entire community rallied behind him with his charisma. She really couldn't understand why he insisted he was a horrible example of a good leader, when everyone liked him. Bubbles sighed behind her clipboard, ticking off the last of the volunteers for the evening. It had been an exhausting day, but they'd made a pretty good dent in the clean-up, enough that the builders could move in tomorrow.

This was good for Mt. Lady, to see the follow-up and aftermath. Why the girl had come to their agency, she still couldn't figure out. Hawks wasn't even known for just randomly letting people through the door, nor was he known for alliances with other agencies other than occasionally tag-teaming with Best Jeanist.

Hawks didn't need people.

He probably didn't even need an agency. They slowed him down. They were like shackles, keeping him chained to the ground and she hated the thought. Sometimes she thought he just barely tolerated them, then, other times, he did look as though he was enjoying a dinner with them at the agency. Medusa told her to stop worrying. To just do her job. That's all Hawks wanted from her. He wanted someone he could rely on to hold down the agency when he had to be away.

She worried her bottom lip.

Had the weekend been a test of sorts? Had she annoyed him by not handling this situation on her own?

"Oh…gosh…" she heaved a sigh. "Why isn't it ever easy."

Oh—that was right—she hadn't signed up for easy.

Across the now cleared street, Bubbles watched as Hawks said goodbye to the last of the volunteers. He collected his jacket from a pile of rubble and slung it over his shoulder lazily. Mt. Lady bounced along beside him as they headed down the road. She was way too happy for it being the end of a long, exhausting day. Hawks wore a small, very strange smile that she'd never seen before, and Bubbles felt her chest tighten.

Oh—

Oh no—

Not Mt. Lady.

Hawks couldn't possibly—

No—

Something had felt odd about the whole day. Like she'd been looking at Hawks from a different angle, but she hadn't quite been able to figure out what was different. It couldn't have been—

No—

She refused to believe it—

Mt. Lady was not—

Oh gosh, why was she even thinking about this!

She schooled herself, settling her panic as the two pro heroes approached. Mt. Lady flung up her arms. "I did it."

Bubbles managed a smile. "You did well. Mt. Lady."

"Thank you, Bubbles, and…ah…thanks so much for everything."

"Just doing my job."

Hawks yawned. "I need coffee."

"Ah, no you don't. You've had like twenty cups today. I've counted." Mt. Lady retorted, hands going on her hips.

"He burns it all off with a single jump." Bubbles offered, not entirely sure why she was defending his addiction.

"Thanks Bubbles." Hawks' hand settled on her watery hair. It was heavy, and there was the faintest tremble. He must have been fatigued. A little niggle of worry knotted in her stomach.

"We should figure out a meal for everyone at the agency." Bubbles looked up at him. "It's been big day, how about I fit something nice into the budget?"

He laughed. "Ah, see, this is what I love about you. Always looking after us—" His mobile started ringing. Mt. Lady began giggling. Hawks slapped a hand straight into her face, shoving her away as he pulled his mobile out.

"Okay, okay, I'll go and handle the food situation, I mean, it is the least I can do." Mt. Lady waved. "I'll meet you guys back at the agency with dinner."

"Thanks, Mt." Hawks answered his ringing mobile. "Don't get into trouble on the way."

She saluted mockingly as she ran off. Bubbles was left standing awkwardly as Hawks walked away from her to take his phone call. He moved directly beneath a streetlamp, leaning against it. She'd have not noticed anything odd about the whole thing, if the streetlamp hadn't blinked on the moment he stepped beneath it.

And suddenly, she realised that's what had been odd about the whole day. Every light he'd passed by had blinked on. It always seemed as though he was illuminated by something, from somewhere. Beneath the soft glow of the streetlamp in the evening twilight his smile was different as he spoke into the mobile. Whomever was on the other end did not receive the smile she received day to day, they received something entirely different. That smile hadn't been directed at Mt. Lady, it had been directed beyond Mt. Lady.

Bubbles breathed in deeply, trying to tear her eyes away. This was awkward, and she shouldn't have been nosey. With an irritated huff, she grabbed a large box of supplies and heaved it up.

"Whoa, sis!" Hayese caught her before she stumbled. "Careful."

"Oh, gosh, thanks Hayese. I must be more exhausted than I realised."

"No probs." He helped her stack the crate to one side. "We made a good dent in the clean up today."

"We did." Bubbles proudly fizzed. "Thanks for your help."

"Community work looks great on my report card."

"Ohhh, I see." She ribbed him playfully.

Hayese bounced away. "Catch you later, sis. Bye Hawks!"

"Bye, Mini-Bubbles."

Bubbles looked over her shoulder, seeing Hawks leaning wearily on the tray table they'd set up for drinks. It did not look like it was taking his weight well, but he didn't seem to care about its creaking.

"Sir, you okay?" she asked.

He rubbed at his eyes. "I'm going to nip back to my apartment for a shower and to grab a spare set of clothes. Then I'll meet you back at the agency for dinner. If there is any paperwork about today, leave it on my desk, I'll get to it later tonight while I'm not sleeping."

She sighed. "Sir."

"Bubbles." He heaved himself to his feet, spreading his wings. "No lecture."

"Yes, sir." She stepped back, bracing herself against the intense upheaval of air as he took to the sky.

0000

Keigo landed on the familiar balcony, leaning back on the newly installed railing. He shoved his full weight against it, tapping his nails on the metal for several moments before deciding it would do for now. It felt like a rushed job, but he wasn't an expert on home installations or anything. Wearily he shouldered his way through the alfresco doors, throwing two bags down onto the couches.

Rilo looked up from her spot at the kitchen barstools.

"Keigo? You said you weren't coming home."

"I'm not." He slipped his visor and headphones off, hooking them around his neck. "I'm just dropping some gear around."

"Do you want it washed?"

"That'd be nice, but you don't have to."

Rilo slid off the barstool. "Your icky male sweat probably gets into everything."

"Thanks, babe." He heaved a sigh as she slid into his arms.

"Oh, but wow, you showered." She mumbled into his shirt. "You smell like coffee."

"You know, you're the first person to ever point out that my shampoo has a coffee scent." He gave the smallest smile.

"Well, to be fair, I'm probably the first person to snuggle you right after you showered."

"Fair point." He mused.

"Do you want a coffee?" She started to move away. He tightened his hold and she halted.

"No. I've got to go. I was just dropping off the gear…and…I wanted to see you." He scratched his cheek. "Which is awkward, and I'm not used to feeling…"

She nodded. "I know. I'm glad you came. Thank you. Sorry for calling so much."

"No, it's fine." He shook his head. "I'd much rather you called whenever you feel lonely, than for you to feel…cooped up in this…" he looked around, his wings giving an uncomfortable rattle.

"You really don't like knowing what it is, do you?"

"Nope." He tightened his grip around her waist. "I'd take you away from here right now, if it were possible."

"Knowing you would, makes it easier."

He sunk against her. He had to go, but he wanted to stay. It was such a contradiction.

"Could you do me a favour." He mumbled into her hair. "Leave the balcony door open. I'm not sleeping well and I'm just going to wing it back here for a few hours in the morning to see if that works."

Rilo nodded against his shoulder. "Funny, I thought you were worried about other scary aviators winging into my tower."

"I've left a few feathers here, not that you'll find them." He quipped, feeling her suddenly bunch up in excitement.

"When do I get mine back?"

"Hm." He kissed her neck. "Soon." Keigo tweaked her nose. He grabbed one of the gym bags and headed back for the balcony. Rilo followed after him.

"Keigo." She said his name and he paused, looking back at her, her crystal glow glinting in the evening air.

"I love you too." He vaulted over the balcony railing.

0000

"Sir. You…you have been going home, haven't you?" Bubbles' eyes settled on the gym bag lying beside Hawks' desk. "I've been noticing you've been using the agencies showers this week."

Technically—he hadn't been home. If his apartment was still considered his actual residence. But if home was where future wifey was, then, technically, he had been sneaking out of the agency for a few hours during the evenings and early mornings. Rilo made good coffee, even if he couldn't stay long in the evenings, she'd always have one waiting. She might have loved her tea, but—she had an entire hidden draw dedicated to coffee. Frankly, that alone, made her marriage worthy. The woman hid her coffee. She understood its value, like it was gold. Then there was the early mornings. He caught maybe three hours sleep next to her, but that was more than enough to keep him going. It already felt like he had just a smudge more energy than he used to, just from those three glorious hours.

"I've just been wanting to get all this overtime done." Hawks scratched the back of his neck. "Figured it'd be better to just crash here in the lodge with everyone until I'd figured out this Mt. Lady mess, as well as my new schedule. Which, by the way…" Hawks rifled around through the papers over his desk.

"Ah! Here it is." He pulled out a sheet and handed it to her. "This is my new and improved schedule. Please do the thing with the computers and get it sent out. I'll be unavailable all Saturday and Sunday as well as Monday mornings from here on out. Also Tuesday evenings, and Thursday evenings. This means you guys are really going to have to pick up a lot more of the hero work, do you think you're all ready for that?"

Bubbles blinked in shock at the timetable.

"I'm doing this because I trust you four with my agency." Hawks turned back to his desk. "I wouldn't feel comfortable otherwise. To be honest, the whole situation with Mt. Lady only proved to boost my resolve that you can handle my absence."

"Sir…thank…thank you." Bubbles chest swelled. "We will continue to make you proud."

"Alright. Well, I've got another hour of paperwork so…"

"Oh, yes, of course, sir." Bubbles spun on her heels. "I'll leave you to it."

Wow. She almost floated out of his office. What had that been about?

He shook his head. It was impossible to tell, sometimes, what was going on with her. At least they'd managed to wrap everything up with the Mt. Lady situation, and he could finally work on Project Baby Bird. Keigo tapped his pen idly against the table, studying his assortment of sheets and logs. It was only a year. He couldn't fit that much training into a year, certainly not the amount of training he'd had—

Not that he wanted to put the baby bird through the training he'd endured.

Keigo slouched back, scratching his neck with the pen. "Still, this won't be a walk in the park," he murmured.

Izuku was going to have to meet the challenge head on.

"Pretty sure he will." Keigo leant forward, studying the timetable. "Just have to remember to call up his school about blocking out some weeks for advance stuff." He reached for his mobile, intending on setting a reminder. He paused, noting the new message on the screen. He flicked it open, leaning back in his office chair. The week hadn't been what he'd expected to return to, but Lightbulbs messages had kept him wholly entertained. He'd found himself a bird who liked a tease, and didn't mind teasing back. It led to what he could only have presumed was a long, drawn-out conversation of foreplay. He'd really have to make sure his mobile never found its way into any reporter's grubby hands. He snorted in amusement at the thought.

Actually—

It wasn't so much his mobile he had to worry about, it was Rilo's.

She hadn't even had it password protected.

Keigo laughed, tapping out a short reply. He stared out at the work spread across the desk. Okay. He'd done enough. This week was over. He scrambled to slot everything into their allotted files, stuffing the papers into his gym bag to worry about in the morning.

"Are you heading home?"

Hawks glanced up at Mt. Lady, hesitating at the door of his office.

"Indeed I am." He saluted. The nearby glass door to the launch platform opened and he headed for it.

"Hawks, wait." Mt. Lady followed.

"The answer is still no. Mt." Hawks shook his head.

"Is it my quirk?" she asked.

"No." He clipped his gym bag to his belt. "You have an incredible quirk, and you're going to find a place for it, it just isn't here, not in my agency. Give yourself some time, find out who you work best with out in the field. Don't rush it."

With a small wave, he stepped off the platform, and glided into the evening sky. Finally—he was heading home.