Chapter Fourteen: Lunchbox
Keigo landed in front of the small local convenience store. It was early evening and he'd been an arse to Rilo on the phone at lunch. It'd had to happen eventually, right? That moment when he was strung high, and she was all emotional, and they clashed.
It didn't feel great.
Well, it wasn't supposed to—
Idiot.
He groaned into his gloved hands.
Neither of them was in the wrong, or the right, or whatever. It hadn't been that sort of conversation, or discussion, or anything of the kind. He'd just, momentarily, forgot his filter.
And that had come with a horrible realisation that he still used a filter around her. He hadn't shared a considerable chunk of his work with her, and that—
That was his mistake.
He'd been subconsciously shielding her. Of course, she wasn't going to understand if he hadn't explained any of it. So naturally, she was going to cry, if he suddenly got upset at a situation he couldn't fix, and called her about it, to vent his frustration. He'd overwhelmed her, and she'd overwhelmed him, and they'd both been very unprepared for each other's reactions.
"Well, nothing for it but to apologise, I suppose." He sighed.
He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. So, was he supposed to get flowers? Or chocolates. What the fuck was he supposed to do? He never even apologised to Tsu before, and they'd had proper, full-on arguments about cases in which he'd essentially raised the tenor of his voice by a notch or two, something he wasn't known for—at all. Those were times he probably should have apologised.
But this—
This was confusing.
How did someone apologise for something they probably didn't need to apologise for but should apologise because it was technically the decent thing to do.
Slowly he reached for his mobile, flipping through the contacts. He leant against the bike rack outside the old store, tucking his wings around himself to ward off the nip in the air.
A voice piped up through his headphones.
"Hawks? Well, this is a pleasant interruption to my evening workload."
"Hey, Hizashi…ah…sorry for calling at an awkward time, you got a minute." He scratched his chin sheepishly.
"I always have a minute." Hizashi quipped. "Just…let me shut the door."
He heard a chair creaking, and he flinched, pulling the headphones off his ears as Hizashi called out. "Shouta! I'm on the phone to Hawks. I'll be down later."
Keigo popped the headphones back in place, shaking his head in amusement. Yeah—Hizashi never changed in how oblivious he was to the range of his mundane, every-day voice. He was probably not even wearing his hearing-aids, something the man continuously forgot to do, despite how much he really needed them to not just hear, but to temper the volume of his own voice.
"Okay. I'm back!" Hizashi cheerfully returned. "What's up?"
Keigo breathed in deeply. This was always so awkward. It never got easier. "I…I need some relationship advice."
Hizashi was quiet for a moment. "You haven't hurt each other, have you?"
"What? No…wait…" His wings fluffed in irritation. "Are you meaning during sex? No! Fuck no."
He almost hung up, right then and there, but this was Hizashi, and Hizashi would read into his immediate insult and take it someplace else. Therapists were dangerous creatures.
"Oh, okay. Good. You had me worried."
"What the fuck, Hizashi."
"Hawks, it took me a long time to even teach you that you could feel the sensation of pleasure, or for you to grasp it as a construct. I am allowed to be nervous about you getting your wires crossed."
"I know." Keigo sighed at the patient, and yet somehow aspirated tone on the other end of the phone.
"But I am so happy you've found someone. Shouta and I really look to meeting her. We only ever want you to be living your best life, whatever you choose that to be."
Keigo tapped his fingers against his knee. "Thanks, Hizashi."
"So, if it isn't about sex, what's happened?"
"Um. Do…do you think I'm moving too fast…" Keigo whispered.
"Depends, do you think you're moving too fast?"
"No."
"Does she think you're moving too fast."
"No."
"Then what does it matter. I've known couples who get legally married two weeks after they meet and are together twenty-odd years later, and I've known couples who have been friends for decades and get devoiced in the first few years. What matters, Hawks, is your ability to—"
"Communicate. I know." Keigo huffed. Yep. He'd heard that countless times.
"I know I say it a lot." Hizashi laughed. "But it's important. It is what is going to get you through the times when sex gets boring, and you're both stuck in the mundane, or when you're wounded and stressed, and she's in tears over it all and you don't find it cute. Because trust me, at some point, you won't. You will get annoyed, and you're allowed to get annoyed."
"Wait." Keigo grinned behind his wings. "You and Shouta have boring sex?"
"Extremely boring." Hizashi offered flippantly. "Practically unnoteworthy. You have so much to look forward too with married life, it's an uphill climb, the entire way."
"What about apologising for something you…don't think you need to apologise for, but you should probably apologise for because…that seems the correct thing to do? Does that make sense?"
"Ah, we have come to the true reason for your call, yes?" Hizashi concluded. "How about we rearrange this in your head. Why do you think you need to apologise?"
Keigo narrowed his gaze down. "Because I made her cry, and not in a good way."
"Right, there you go, you have your answer." Hizashi offered. "You cherish her feelings and emotions just as much as you care for your own. You guys are building a foundation to stand on, don't let this rock it, yeah? Apologise to keep the foundation solid."
He nodded, which was awkwardly weird, considering Hizashi couldn't actually see him. Funny how actions were instinctual. "Thanks, Hizashi."
"Not a problem, Hawks. Can I ask what triggered the upset between you two?"
Keigo dipped his head to one side, giving a long sigh, watching as his breath fogged in the rapidly cooling air. "One of the cases I've been working, we wrapped it up, and…we lost the child involved in it. They'd been…deceased…for a few days. I…didn't take it well. I mean, I never do, but this one…this one…it just got to me…"
He rubbed at the ache behind his eyes, almost knocking his visor off.
"Neglect case?"
"Yeah." He glanced up was a streetlight blinked on overhead. "I just automatically called Rilo, and…neither of us…were prepared for…well…" Keigo curled over. "So, yeah, I do feel like I should apologise, because I really unloaded on her and I feel awful about that, but…"
"Do you trust her?"
"Of course." Keigo frowned. "I…I wouldn't have called her…if I didn't trust her…"
"Then trust that she'll grow with you. She's been stuck in a tower, Hawks. Expect a little bit of naivety."
Keigo nodded. "Yeah. Okay."
"Honestly, Hawks. I don't think you need to worry. This sort of thing happens to a lot of hero/civilian couples, but it all gets ironed out with some—"
"Communication. I know."
"Right on." Hizashi's cheerfulness was beginning get irksome. Keigo breathed in deeply.
"Okay, okay, I can hear the last of your patience beginning to snap. We'll wrap it up. I am glad you called Hawks."
"Well, you are my therapist." Keigo grumbled. "Who else would I call?"
"That's true, but, I hope that someday we can also be friends. Now, go home, talk it out, make up, have not boring sex, and get some sleep. Seeya, Hawks."
Keigo flipped his headphones around his neck, looking up at the darkening sky.
"So, someday, life will be mundane, and sex will be boring," he mumbled wistfully. "Novel concept, that."
He hopped up, heading through the door of the little store. The chime rang out in a happy little dingle, and from behind his counter Old Man Lou peered over his newspaper.
"Good evening, Hawks."
"Good evening, Lou." Hawks fought with a basket. All the strength of a hero, and he still had difficulty getting fucking shopping baskets to release from each other. He sucked in a sharp breath of victory as, finally, one released with a pop.
He held it up like it was a trophy. "Fuck yeah."
"You must be the only hero who is as rude as a delinquent and gets away with it."
"I can be professional unrude, you just happen to be graced with my true, charming personality." Hawks tucked in his wings as he shuffled his way down the aisles.
"What a privilege." Old Man Lou chuckled.
"Such a privilege."
Suddenly, a teen girl burst through the doorchimes hanging over the entrance into the backend of the shop. She flung her arms up.
"Oh my gosh, oh my gosh. Grandpa! Why didn't you tell me Hawks was here! Hawks! Is it true? Are you dating?" The last word was almost squealed out. He rubbed at an ear, blinking from the slight ring.
He slowly peered over the top of a shelf at the bouncing granddaughter of Old Man Lou.
"Good evening to you too, Nina."
She bounced over the countertop with all the ease of her powerful legs. He had the avian wings, she had the avian legs, he was an aviator, and she was a ratite. How quirk mutations manifested continued to be such a mystery, but he did so love how vibrant it made the world around him, especially right now as Nina skipped her way through her grandfather's shop in a way that almost made her float.
These little moments truly made hero life worth living.
"Am I dating?" he picked out two drinks, adding them to his basket. "That's a loaded question, Pumpkin Seed. You trying to get the scoop on me for your school newspaper again?"
"Oh, that's a great idea!" She gasped. "Stay right there, I need my camera."
And she was gone, back through the backend door, in a blur.
Old Man Lou looked up from his newspaper. "Never knows when to stop, that one."
Hawks smiled. "Its good to see."
He sighed, staring at the assortment of chocolates, none of which were appealing. He liked this little store because it felt reminiscent of a place he'd once snuck into as a boy on his infrequent visits into the city, when he had been able to sneak past his father. He could have very—very easily shoplifted anything, but he never had.
Even starving.
He just hadn't.
And now that he had finances, luxury like chocolate just didn't seem all that important, not after a case—
Not after today's case—
He dragged a hand through his hair, giving a very irritated huff.
"What's wrong, Hawks?" Old Man Lou asked from behind his paper.
"Bad day. Can't think of something nice to get for dessert. Everything kind of feels pointless." He admitted.
"Then I suggest you try the chocolate pudding." Old Man Lou offered. "Go for the middle ground."
Hawks blinked, turning towards the fridge section of the store. "Oh, that is a good idea."
"You're not the first idiot male to come into my store, Hawks."
"Haha, thanks, Lou."
"Though, you are the only idiot hero who visits—"
Nina burst back into the store section, carrying an old-fashioned polaroid camera. "I found it!" She held it above her head. "Photo time."
Hawks slapped his basket down on the counter as Nina twirled up to him. She jumped onto the counter, holding out the camera. He had to crouch and tuck in his wings, but it was different, having a selfie taken without actually seeing himself. Nina yanked out the photograph as it printed, flipping it back and forth.
Hawks took the camera, looking it over curiously. "Wow, these things are expensive, Nina. Pretty sure this is worth several modern mobiles."
Old Man Lou gave a small groan. "If only I had known, I'd have kept more of them."
"Ah, so this is an original." He eased it down on the counter carefully.
Nina nodded. "Grandpa used to develop film, a long, long time ago, with great-grandpa."
"This shop did a lot of things, once." Old Man Lou grumbled as he started to scan Hawks' items.
Nina held out the photo and Hawks smiled at the reveal of the three of them. It was a sweet memory. He took out his mobile, taking a photo of the photo. Nina started laughing. "That's not fair, Hawks."
"Well, what else am I supposed to do, there is only one original copy." He smiled. "Just like you."
Nina pouted. "You are dating, aren't you?"
"Sorry, Pumpkin Seed." He poked her nose. "But it's a little bit worse than that. I got hitched."
"Hitched?" Nina looked to the grandfather.
"Married." Old Man Lou clarified idly.
Nina covered her face, flopping her legs back and forth, talons clicking. She heaved a dramatic sigh before suddenly brightening up and throwing him a warm smile.
"I'm so happy for you."
Old Man Lou snorted his disbelief. Nina shot her grandfather a tart glare.
Hawks leant on the counter. "Thanks Nina, that means a lot. Can I ask what started this curiosity of questions, Little Miss Wannabe Reporter?"
"Oh!" Nina looked around the counter, spotting a magazine. She snatched it up and held it out. "Whenever there are articles about you dating random girls, none of them have pictures of you together with the girl, so Grandpa says it always trash, but this time you're with her, and you look super adorable and totally cute."
Hawks took the magazine, arching an eyebrow at the photos of the Tokyo mall trip. He'd expected it to happen, but seeing the photographs in a magazine was still confronting.
It made it—
Real—
He breathed in deeply, holding the magazine out to Old Man Lou, who arched an eyebrow at him. He shrugged nonchalantly. "It's our first tabloid appearance. Wifey is going to love it."
"Well, at least you can see the humour in it." Old Man Lou grumbled, adding it to the paper bag of items. Hawks tapped his phone over the payment system, gathering up the bag.
Nina followed him out of the shop, into the evening. "Can you bring her, next time you come?"
He paused from tucking the paper bag into his jacket to keep the contents secure. "You've got end of year exams coming up, right?"
She nodded. Hawks settled a hand on her head. "You study properly for them, don't goof off with your reporter club trying to find hero scoops. I want passing marks, that's not hard."
Nina shuffled. "If I pass, you'll bring her."
"Yep."
She clenched her fists. "Okay! I'll do it."
Hawks watched her race back into the store. A light from the house above the store blinked on, revealing her little bedroom. He shook his head in amusement before flipping on his visor and headphones. Alright—it was time to see what sort of woman he was coming home too; the type who made chicken soup, or the type who'd fry him for her chicken soup. On the positive side, at least he had someone his quirk considered home. With that happy thought, he launched into the air and closed his eyes, allowing his natural instincts to guide him to the warm glow that was home.
It was only when he arrived at the familiar balcony that he opened his eyes and settled his wings. Flying by senses and instinct alone was so fulfilling. Just him—his quirk—the air—
And now he was completely wound up and randy.
He didn't even need to focus on Rilo to sense her footsteps on approach. He could hear her breathing, and the gentle rhythm of her heart. If he was being honest, he could even taste the faint salty sweat of her skin.
"Fuck." He glanced at his reflection in the glass doors. Well, that was just great, his pupils were dilated.
The glass doors opened, and he lost his mirror. Rilo stared at him in confusion.
"Why are you just standing there?" she worried.
He removed his boots, tucking them to one side of the door. "Hello, hi, I'm home," he quipped.
"Welcome home." She reached up, pulling him down for a kiss. If it wasn't for the fact that he'd have crushed their meal, still stuffed in his jacket, he'd have foregone any formalities and niceties right then and there and just dropped them both to the floor.
But—
That'd have ruined a perfectly good meal.
"Thank you." He smiled.
Rilo clapped his cheek. "Now stop standing outside, admiring yourself, like a peacock."
Keigo unzipped his jacket, pulling out the paper bag as he stepped into the apartment. "That's not what I was doing. I got myself a little bit frisky on the flight home. I was trying to calm down."
"Don't think it worked, your eyes are still saucers." She bit her lip in amusement. He tired so very, very hard not to focus on the way her teeth pulled on the soft skin.
"It'll calm down now that I'm home." Now that he could see her, and he wasn't focusing all his senses on her to guide him. He probably shouldn't do that too often. Though—
He paused from removing the meal from the paper bag. It'd be an incredible hunting game, now that he thought about it. A hunting game that didn't involve him murdering someone. How fascinating. Would that work?
"Keigo?"
"Sorry." He shook his head. "Had a thought."
"Yes, you get them often," she jibed. "I'm surprised you don't have a little lightbulb above your head that switches on whenever you're in thought mode."
"You're welcome to sit on my face tonight."
She slapped him. "You're always so vulgar."
"Only ever with you." He folded up the paper bag, adding it to the recycling pile.
"Guess I should feel honoured." Rilo crouched, searching for bowls, and eating utensils amongst the kitchen cabinets.
Keigo leant over her, pressing one hand against a hip as he yanked open the coffee cupboard. "Okay, so, I was actually expecting you to be upset at me."
She looked up at him. "Why?"
"Well." He nipped out a coffee pod and tapped shut the drawer with his foot. "I kind of lost my cool at lunch."
"Yeah, you kind of did." Rilo stood up, placing down two bowls. She spooned the warmed rice into them, adding the chicken on top. "And I'll admit, it was a bit jarring to have you go off like that. You always have a calm, steady demeanour, even when you're obviously not calm." She rattled on, and he kept his hand steady on her hip. "Like, when you're really angry, you don't say anything, and if you do, it's barely audible."
Wow. She was observant. Tsubame and Bubbles had worked with him for years and they hadn't figured that out.
He brushed at her loose hair. "But I still made you cry."
"It was just a reaction. I've only heard you raise your voice during sex." She covered her face, squeaking. "Oh my gosh, I can't believe I just said that out loud."
He pinched the bridge of his nose, giving a small smile at her observation. "I suppose you have a point, though."
She slowly lowered her hands. "You're so demanding, and it notches up your tone."
"Okay. Okay. I get it."
She giggled. "Oh, are you embarrassed."
He gripped her cheeks with a hand, squeezing. "Stop."
"Exactly like that," she squeezed out.
"Oh, for fucks sake." He turned back to the coffee machine.
Her head rested on his shoulder. "I'm sorry I started crying…that…didn't help anything, but I couldn't help it. You were needing someone to listen to you and be there for you, and I…I kind of…faltered. I'm so, so sorry." She hung her head.
He reached for her hand. This wasn't going to plan. He was supposed to be the one saying sorry for throwing his shite job on her.
"If you can't lose your cool safely around me, then, who else is there. So." She breathed in deeply and squared her shoulders. "So, I'll work on not overreacting. I want you to be able to lean on me, and talk to me. It just…it will take a bit to get used to, so, be gentle."
He tugged her closer. "The fact that you do over-react, is kind of what I love about you. I also apologise. I shouldn't have just thrown all that on you out of the blue. I've never really discussed work with you and…then I…well…"
"It was a bad case, Keigo." She gripped his shirt. "I can't even begin to imagine what it feels like, to not save a child. You had every right to react how you did…and…please, don't stop calling me when you need to share it."
He closed his eyes, leaning into her arms as she hugged him. Her fingers traced tiny little circles just below his wing junctions, making his whole back tingle. He rested his head against hers, breathing out slowly.
"Thank you," he whispered. "Can we…just stay like this, for a bit."
She nodded into his chest. He settled his wings, slowly letting the stiffened muscles loosen to the lulling comfort of her crackling current. They must have stayed that way for a considerable while, as by the time he did flick his eyes open again, night had fully settled through the apartment and only Rilo's glow lit the concrete walls.
He stirred with a deep breath, looking down at her.
"Our dinner got cold…" he mumbled.
Rilo brushed at his damp cheeks. "You okay?"
Keigo nodded. "I am."
Lights flicked on all around them as she basically came alive with a bounce.
"I'll warm up dinner." She flounced back to the kitchen, snatching up the bowls to shove them into the microwave. He headed for the coffee machine, cranking it to life with a flick of several buttons. The poor thing was starting to sound a little worse for wear. A feather dropped a mug on the countertop beside him, and he snatched the trashy hero magazine out of the air as another feather whizzed past with it.
"I found something for you, by the way." He flipped the magazine at her as she returned to her barstool, blowing on the heated meal. "First time I've ever purchased one of these rags."
Rilo dropped her chop sticks. "No…" she sucked in a long inhale of air.
Keigo prepared himself for the high-pitched squeal that he knew was incoming.
Sure enough—
It came.
His feathers ruffled at the happy squeal.
Rilo flew off the barstool, throwing her arms and legs around him. He grappled for her. He had to contain his amusement as her mouth found his and the air in his lungs was practically dragged out of him by her electrical charge.
"Okay, okay." He thumped her down on the kitchen counter. "I get it, you're excited. Wow."
She held the magazine up to the ceiling. "Ohhhh, I wonder what it says about us."
"Something extremely untrue, I'm sure." He grumbled, trying to move towards the boiling coffee machine, only for her hands to tangle up tighter in his hair.
"Ohhhh! I almost don't want to open it."
He placed his hands on either side of her.
"Babe, can I have my hair back, I'd like to consume my coffee and dinner while they're warm." Because heating them up a second time would be very unsatisfactory.
Her legs tightened around him, locking him in place, he dropped his head against her chest, giving a soft laugh. "I warned you."
"Warned me?"
He grabbed her breasts and she squealed, slapping at him. Keigo stepped away in victory, leaving her huffing in frustration.
"Works like a charm."
"You can't just randomly grab a woman's boobs, Keigo."
He snorted in amusement. "I wouldn't randomly grab a woman's boobs, but you're not a random woman, are you?" He shoved his mug under the coffee machine, flinching as her hand grabbed his rear.
"Oh, sorry." She innocently tripped past him. "My hand slipped."
"All the way down to my arse, really?"
"Yep." Rilo sat back on her barstool.
"Going to need to remember that for some weird reason, trashy hero magazines make you horny." He slid into his own seat beside her, sipping his coffee.
Rilo bounced happily on her stool, munching on a piece of chicken. "You should do a photoshoot…with kittens."
He held out his hands, breathing in deeply, before slowly lowering them in a definite sign of defiance. "No." He stated clearly.
"Aw, come on."
"No."
"But kittens."
"No." Hundred precent, never with kittens. That'd be worse than a villain fight.
"But it would be so adorable." Rilo pouted.
Because that's what ran the world, apparently, the adorability of things.
"Lightbulb, you can have a photo of me whenever the fuck you want. You're the only person who has a photo of me naked on your phone."
She giggled, her cheeks turning neon pink. "And it's such a good photo too." That almost sounded like a purr. Well—he did not want to know what went on in her head whenever she looked at that photo—no—wait—maybe he did.
Hm—
He shook his head in amusement. "I really need to encrypt your phone."
"Kitten photoshoot would still be a winner."
"Never happening."
"I'll slip the idea to Bubbles."
He slowly looked up at her. His head gradually tilted to one side as he focused his full attention on her. She was playing with the cover of the magazine, appearing to have an eternal debate about opening it or not to read the articles inside. For some reason, he felt oddly ticked off. She had him sitting across from her, and she was more interested in magazine photos.
Right.
So—
He set his chopsticks aside and quietly slid off the barstool, heading in the direction of their bed.
He stalled only when she asked. "Keigo? Where are you going?"
He glanced back at her. "To bed. I have an early morning shift. So, you can either get your horny arse over here and have the real thing, or stay there staring at a magazine."
Rilo bit her lip. "You're so mean."
"I know. I know. Come on." He pointed. "Get over here."
"Rude." She huffed, strolling past him. "Can't believe the real thing is a vulgar, rude jackarse."
He snatched for her arm, pulling her against him. The lights in the apartment blinked out as his hands dipped into her shorts and tightened around her rear. Her blue eyes remained illumed, their eerie, inner glow highlighting the electric lines beneath her pink cheeks.
"I wouldn't have you any other way," she whispered.
0000
It was about midnight—or something—around then—
He couldn't really be bothered figuring it out.
What he had figured out was that he was hungry. He'd probably been hungry before he'd decided to just roll with their combined riled up mood, and it was only now that he'd slept for a few hours, was it really becoming noteworthy. With great effort to not disturb Rilo, he slipped out of the bed. This took significant work, considering how they tended to sleep completely entangled, and weirdly magnetically stuck. He did not mind it. Not at all. His entire world shrunk down to just them and his wingspan, and for several blissful hours, he didn't feel anything but the buzz of whatever the fuck their quirks did while trying to form that reciprocal loop the mod was probably blocking.
It was getting his wings out from under her was always a bit tricky, but thus far, he'd never woken her. It always felt like a bit of a victory that she stayed asleep.
He stepped back a pace from the bed, staring down at her starlit glow.
"Okay…" carefully he placed the silken sheet over her. "Now I gotta pee."
He grabbed his track pants and yanked them on, making a beeline for the bathroom. It paid not to overthink it, or to even dwell on it, just to—dive right in.
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and shoved himself into the small bathroom. There was no way he could have achieved it during the daytime, or when Rilo was awake, and the lights were on. It had to be dark, he had to keep his eyes closed, he had to find the fucking toilet with only his sense quirk.
He had to extend his senses beyond the four walls that surrounded him, so tight, and close—
Nope—
No walls—
They did not exist—
No walls—
He was not back in his little hell-room.
He yanked on his pants and burst out of the bathroom, staring out at the night skyline to recalibrate his world. Slowly Keigo bent over, clasping his knees as he heaved out a sigh.
"Pissing has never been so hard." He dragged a hand through his hair. "The things you do because you love someone." He glanced back at the bathroom. His wings rippled as muscles in his back bunched up.
It was a work in progress.
Maybe he just had to figure out how to make the tiny space seem less oppressive.
"Maybe I need to stop thinking about things at midnight." He headed for the kitchen, tugging open the fridge door to pull out his meal.
"Third times a charm." He shoved it into the microwave.
The coffee machine chimed to life as feathers flicked past. Cupboards opened and shut quietly around him. Soon he was seated back on his barstool, coffee and meal in front of him. He flipped idly through the trashy hero magazine as he ate. Rilo had several boxes of them, collected over a lifetime of painful, agonizing wishful hoping. She'd clung to the world of heroics as a lifeline.
Of course, nothing in any of these rags came out as real truth, but he could picture her, as a little girl, alone—attached to the monstrous powerplant—reading stories of heroes who saved people.
A princess in her tower, dreaming of gods who saved. It physically hurt him—especially after the case he'd just had. That little boy, tucked up in a cupboard—alone—abandoned—alone—
All alone—
He sighed, sipping his coffee.
It was something he'd learnt, stuck in that four-by-four room, contemplating his loathsome existence. There was a strength in the ability to endure shite that one couldn't escape from. One simply had to endure it long enough for help to arrive. Being trapped, unable to break out of a situation, did not equal weakness.
He'd seethed over that for hours—probably days—no—maybe months.
Actually, he really couldn't remember.
All he knew, was that he'd internalized that thought and festered on it.
Surviving shite alone, waiting for help, didn't make someone powerless, it gave them courage and resilience to endure.
His gaze fell on the article that had prompted him to buy the magazine.
Oh—yeah—
He smiled at the picture of both himself and Rilo sitting on the floor of the eatery, with little Mochi in his lap. Rilo had done rather well for her first little hero wifey public outing. At least neither of them had screwed up and he didn't have to do damage control.
He snorted at the article. He really wanted to know who these close sources were, or these friend's he apparently had in Tokyo that totally, definitely knew who the mysterious woman was.
"Fascinating…" he murmured through a mouthful.
He reached for his mug, curling his fingers around the handle to cradle it against a cheek as he read the next article about Mirko's continued hunt for ManKiller—which—oddly enough, was somewhat factually correct. Mirko had been bouncing around Japan, chasing after the terrifying villain with a kill count that was beginning to get a little alarming.
Hawks sighed. "Tough on Mirko. It's beginning to drag."
Those types of assignments weren't just physically hard, but mentally too. Every new death became more and more personal. She was probably really beginning to feel the weight and responsibility of not having captured the villain.
Keigo suddenly slapped down his mug, jerking in the direction of the bed. Rilo was tossing in the sheets, looking as though she was struggling to fight something—or someone—off. She scrambled so violently away that she fell off the bed.
"Rilo!" He couldn't activate fierce wing in the apartment, but it sure felt like he had. He wrestled for her as she continued to struggle, getting completely strangled by the sheet.
"Rilo. Stop. Rilo. Rilo."
Her lungs were heaving, and her mouth was open in the action of brutal screams, but he couldn't hear a sound.
"Wait." He tightened his grip on her arms. "Shite. You're not awake."
That explained the kicking.
Bundling her tightly in the sheet, he sat back against the bed, ignoring the uncomfortable jarring of his wings. They were on the floor, and he wasn't going to move them until she was somewhat semi-conscious again, so he cradled her. He brushed at her hair. It stuck her skin, slick with sweat. It was as if she'd just relived some sort of horrifying ordeal—
Minute by minute, her tense limbs unravelled against him, and her eyes lost their cloudy haze, only to be replaced with terror. It broke a piece of him that he had never known could be broken and he fought back his own fear. He couldn't shatter. Not now.
He brushed at his tears.
"Keigo…"
"It's okay." He pressed his forehead against hers. "I'm here."
"Get it out of me."
She could only mean the mod-hancer.
"I will…" he curled his wings around them both. "I promise. Rilo. I promise."
00000
He really hadn't thought that either of them would manage getting back to sleep after her nightmare, but, emotions were exhausting and they'd practically collapsed back into a far deeper slumber.
Which had to be why he woke up rather easily to his alarm, despite the disorderly night. He flipped Rilo over without much grace and rolled himself out of bed.
"Bleh." Rilo sat up.
He smiled at her, brushing at her frazzled hair. "Good morning."
"Pretty sure it's still midnight."
He chuckled, pressing soft kisses to her neck. "Nope, it's 'oh no, I have to go to work' time."
Keigo held up a hand, catching the trashy hero magazine that flew into his grasp as a feather delivered it. He handed it to her as he swung his legs off the bed. "Now you get to read our article."
She brightened considerably, bouncing up onto her knees as he dragged out his costume from beneath the bed. He tensed up as she flopped over his back and shoved the magazine article into his face. His hands froze around his belt. Shite. Shite. Shite. He reached for his boots, moving to tug them on, the action only made the situation all the more distracting.
Well, now he really had no desire to get up this early and go on patrol with Bubbles. He'd have much preferred to just roll back around, flip her over, so he could at least do something with her breasts that were right now, being extremely distracting against his back.
Then the two of them could cuddle away the godawful fear that had infected the very walls now surrounding them.
"Rilo…"
She was completely oblivious to his plight, which just made her so much more gorgeous in the moment. There was no way he'd ever tell her, or she'd curl up in a burrito ball of embarrassment.
"Look, look!" She pointed at the photograph of them. Well, technically it was of them, but Jeanie's veil had worked a lot better than they'd all hoped. Her identity was, indeed, completely hidden.
"I'm in a trashy hero magazine." She bounced against him. "Isn't this exciting!"
He breathed out and glanced at his watch. Nope. Not enough time to fuck her. He grabbed her, heaving her over his shoulder and she landed in his lap with a squeak.
"Keigo!"
"I love you." He clasped her cheeks. "I want you to remember that today, okay."
It was still there, in her eyes, the reflection of fear and he loathed that he couldn't remain to banish it.
She smiled. "Keigo."
Nope. He was not falling for his name from her lips. Not now.
Standing he flung her onto the bed and she gave a laugh as she tumbled about. "I have to go to work. Bubbles will yell bloody murder at me if I'm late, and I don't think I can deal with her today."
Rilo heaved herself up into a seated position on the bed. Hawks headed for the open racks that stored their wardrobe, which was considerably more outfitted after their visit to see Jeanie. He chucked a loose shirt at Rilo.
"Put that on, before I get too distracted."
She shrugged into it. "Keigo, even when you could barely see me in a veil, you got distracted."
He tipped his head back. "True." He smiled as he glanced at her. "That actually might have been worse."
She grinned. "Does this disprove your whole; 'I look better naked' theory."
He tugged on a shirt, pulling up the zips on the back to fashion it around his wings. He was going to need to shower at the agency, hence the unbearably early wake up call. "This conversation isn't helping, Rilo."
"Helping what?" She frowned in confusion.
He brushed a thumb over her lips, feeling a crackle of energy. "Nothing…" He clicked his tongue. "Nothing at all."
"Okay…if you say so, Mr. Hero." Rilo beamed.
He grabbed his gym bag, heading for the alfresco doors. "I'll bring home some dinner this evening, and after your shift, we can head down to see Floral about our jewellery." He also, desperately needed Buckets advice on her mod-hancer, though he wasn't entirely sure how he was supposed to go about approaching the subject with Rilo, without terrifying her more than she was already terrified.
Rilo was suddenly attached to him, her mouth around his, her hands tangled through his hair.
Well—
Okay—
This was now his life.
Keigo dropped his bag, hoisting her up. Her legs snapped around his waist and he grasped at her bare thighs. He felt one of his legs shift in the direction of the bed, before he halted his movement.
Shite.
Right.
Work.
Yeah, that thing—
He pulled away.
"I need to go to work."
"I know," she whispered. "I know. I'm sorry."
"Don't apologise." He whispered. "Please don't ever, ever apologise for showing your affection. I adore it about you." He unfurled his wings. Rilo bent over, collecting his bag and passing it to him with a shy smile.
"Be safe, Keigo. Please…be safe."
He stepped back, onto the balcony. "I love you."
0000
Early morning shifts were always a bit of a drag. Once—when she'd first started at the agency—fresh into the whole exciting world of heroes—Bubbles had loved it. There had been a thrill about the quiet, eerie hours of the morning, when the world wasn't quite awake, but just beginning to stir. There was always a villain lurking somewhere, sulking about in some dark corner, hiding from the streetlamps. Besides, she was protecting the streets of her city, alongside Hawks, her naïve-self had been enthralled by it all.
These days Hawks' was just—well—Hawks—
Her boss—
Oh, he was incredible, there was no doubting that, but her sparkly fangirling of him had evaporated after watching him bleed, after having to shove a dislocated shoulder back in place, after ending up pinned under him for about three hours while waiting for a rescue when a building collapsed on them. Her boss was as human as she was, no matter how invincible he sometimes seemed.
Now early morning shifts just irritated her. They messed up her sleep for the sake of keeping the streets safe. She really couldn't remember the last time she'd had a full night's rest.
That was a little alarming.
Had she even taken a holiday?
"Oh no…" she whispered.
"What?" Hawks looked over at her as he signed a bunch of papers at the police station, finishing up their delivery of the villain they'd found lurking about in an alleyway. Hawks' hadn't been gentle with the alleged rapist. She'd never get used to that switch that sometimes flipped in her boss. His eyes reflected the pure intent to kill, and it froze her watery hair stiff whenever they flicked her way. Obviously, they were never aimed at her, but it was still awing to even be in his sphere when he was in hunting mode.
"Ah, I just realised I haven't had a holiday."
He tapped the pen he was holding on the counter he leant on, cocking his head at her in amusement. "You're just realising this now? Bubbles, you worry me. Do I need to take you to the Heroes Gala this year, so you can hook up with someone and finally get a life."
She huffed. "No!"
"Boring." He passed the papers back to the officer behind the counter.
"Anyway, you have a date this year." Bubbles stated happily, hands slapping to the sides of her hero costume. "I don't have to go with you. I am finally free of that annoying duty."
He snorted. "Didn't know it was such a horrible duty."
"It was."
"You got to wear a pretty dress."
"Okay, that was nice. Dressing up is always fun. I'll admit that."
"I'll have to take your word for it." He headed for the doors.
"I do like your new costume."
"Ah, thank you." He tugged on the hem of the jacket, which had gotten a little dirty in the earlier skirmish. "Best Jeanist always does the best work."
"I think it suits you. It's more sophisticated."
He choked out a laugh, pausing from shoving open the station's glass doors with his shoulder. "Sophisticated? Okay. Whoa. Not a word I would ever use to describe myself."
"I said the costume is more sophisticated, I didn't say you were." Bubbles mocked.
Hawks clutched at his chest sarcastically. "Oh, thank goodness. I almost died there for a moment, thinking I'd lost the ability to say fuck because of a costume."
She groaned into her hands. "How are you my boss."
"Because you're a pretty little sophisticated bubble, and I'm a very safe bad boy to be around. Naturally, we work well together." He spread his hands. "It all balances out."
Bubbles laughed as he winked playfully.
"Well, that isn't untrue." She followed him into the brisk morning.
Hawks shielded his eyes, peering up at the sky. "Right, I'll take zone five, you can take zone six and we'll meet up at Carbon Coffee at about eleven. Sound good?"
Bubbles nodded. "See you then, boss."
She watched as Hawks grabbed a utility pole, climbing it with ease. It was something he did when there were simply to many people around for him to take off from ground level, but she'd also figured out it was a way that he tended to reserve his energy levels throughout the day. He stood on the pole, gave her a wave and dropped backwards, twirling about playfully as he took to the air.
Bubbles pouted. He made that look too easy.
00000
Bubbles found Hawks chatting to the barista at Carbon Coffee, through the open window where coffee was served to the public walking by. It was one of the reasons why Hawks liked the spot, as he didn't need to go indoors to collect his coffee. She jogged up to him and he glanced at her in amusement.
He tapped his watch teasingly. "Late, Bubbles."
"Shut up. You're just fast."
The barista chuckled, leaning out the window, holding out a coffee to her. "On the house, Bubbles."
"Thanks so much." She gushed, giving a curt bow.
Hawks twirled around, waving happily. "Thanks, Yui! Catch'cha next time."
"Seeya Hawks."
Bubbles shook her head. "How do you remember every name of every barista in Fukuoka?"
"Hm," Hawks smiled at his coffee. "It's pretty easy once you learn how to catalogue things in your mind. Then, the information is always there, you just have to flip it up when you need it."
"Like a filing system."
"Something like that, I suppose." He shrugged.
"Nope, I cannot imagine having that ability." And she had been known for being a teacher's pet, and for being a little bit too smart—and too sheltered—and no one would have ever thought she'd end up at the Hawks agency. She'd just been too much of a stickler for rules and regulations, and Hawks was—well—he was very, unregulated.
Though she was now convinced he'd hired her just to keep him out of trouble. It all balanced out, right?
"Not an ability." He shook his head. "I learnt it. I had too. I didn't have a choice. Somethings are just like that." He sipped his coffee. "Did you have any problems in zone six?"
"No. Nothing to report."
"Okay. That's good. Let's hope the afternoon stays just as mundane for the Twins."
They headed in the direction of the agency, Hawks smiling his charismatic smile at anyone that passed them by. They were stopped several times, and she was always felt astounded at how patient Hawks was when it came to civilians and their often very intrusive conversations. There was none of his abrasiveness, and thank goodness, he didn't swear—too often—in front of civilians. He was such a hero of the people, somehow finding a way to bend around everyone he met. He greeted people at their level, altering the way he stood, the tone of his voice, the movements of his hands, and he did it for each individual person. She had to wonder if it was tiresome, being that good at reflectivity.
Did he switch it off when he was with her—the young woman he was seeing?
Gosh—
That made her so curious. What was normal, not hero, Hawks like? Had she ever actually met him in all their years working together? She'd never even seen him in civilian clothes. He'd always just been—
Hawks—
But of course, he was someone else, right?
She was Aiya.
So, Hawks wasn't just—Hawks.
There was actually a normal man behind the hero persona—wasn't there?
Finally, the agency came into view, like a homeward stretch for them both. All they had to do was make it to the doors without being accosted by anymore civilians. The key was to look busy.
Hawks was not looking busy, happily sipping on his coffee. She had to do something about that, or they'd end up accosted by another civilian and miss their whole lunch hour.
"So, did you see that mass murder that happened in Shizuoka Prefecture?" she asked.
"Hm, what mass murder?" Hawks rattled his coffee cup, pouting at its empty state.
"Some start up political party, their main driving members were all killed while preparing for a rally."
"Nope." He shook his head. "Didn't hear about it."
"Hm." Bubbles huffed. "I suppose you have been a little side-tracked lately."
"Ah, still upset about those delightful articles from this past weekend." Hawks flashed her a boyish grin.
"Yes. I am. You promised me no media." She glared. "Gosh, I've had to field so many reporters, and take so many phone calls."
"Aww, no, so sad." Hawks mocked. "You've had to do your job."
"Shut up." She kicked him.
"You love it." He skipped away. "Don't lie."
Bubbles grumbled. "Fine. It has made things interesting. But that doesn't mean I'm not annoyed at you."
"Bubbles, my darling sidekick, I hope to annoy you for as long as I can." Hawks gave one of his charming smiles. "And I truly hope you stick around to annoy me."
Hawks groaned at the nearing agency, throwing his arms out despondently. "Great, now an afternoon of meetings and admin, fun, super fun."
"Well, maybe a villain might save you."
He sent her a tart glare. "As much as I hate admin, I never wish a villain upon my city, Bubbles."
She sighed. "We have that consultation with the mayor, about the up and coming elections."
Hawks nibbled indentations into the side of his takeaway coffee cup. "The worst fucking time to be a hero, elections." His wings gave an irritated movement that she wasn't going to read into. "More freelance jobs." He muttered under his breath.
They entered through the large doors of the agency and she was extremely disappointed that neither of the Twins greeted them for shift change over. She was about to start her tirade about it, when Hawks jerked to a startled halt.
"Rilo?"
Standing in the middle of their agency foyer was the vague figure of a woman, at least, Bubbles presumed it was a woman. It was a little difficult to tell, considering she was hidden behind a soft, red veil that floated around her ankles as though it drifted in seawater.
Hawks' looked completely stunned.
She'd never seen him so flummoxed before.
His wings had actually dropped loose around his feet, almost appearing like a liquid, before they rippled in a sudden shimmer of excitement, picking up again.
"Babe, what are you doing here?" He held out his hands as he approached her. "Are you alright? Are you hurting? Do you need to see Med?"
"No, no, I'm fine." Sweet laughter simmered out from behind the veil. A gloved hand cupped Hawks' cheek. He lent into it, holding it tightly as he closed his eyes.
"Are you sure?" he asked. "We had a rough night."
She leant her head against his chest. "Okay. I'm not fine, but I'll be fine, because…you're with me."
Hawks cuddled her tightly. "There, see, that's better. We're in it together. Forever. Never getting rid of each other." He eased away. "Did you just drop in to say hi?"
"Nope." She bent over, riffling through a bag at her feet. "You forgot your lunch." The veiled woman handed him an Endeavour lunchbox.
Bubbles watched as Hawks' face lit up with a delighted smile. His wings partially calcified, enough that they chimed together to show his happiness.
"Aw, babe…really? Thank you." Hawks laughed.
Lunch.
Bubbles sucked in a deep breath.
A woman had just handed Hawks a homemade lunch, in a cute little Endeavour lunchbox. How was this a real thing?
"Thank you…" the woman dipped her head. "For last night."
Hawks wrapped an arm around her again, pulling her close. "I'm so sorry I couldn't stay this morning, to make you feel safe. We'll talk more this evening, yeah?"
She nodded, making her veil bob about.
Hawks crouched, peering into the woman's bag. "Now, what on earth have you been doing? Did you suddenly get inspired to compete with Jeanie for best fashion designer?"
"Bleh, no. I'll stick to architecture." The woman waved her gloved hands about. "But I found this adorable little plushie design, and decided I'd have an attempt at making little Hawks plushies."
Hawks covered his face. Bubbles was pretty sure she heard him groan.
"Then, the next time you go to the hospital, I can come with you, and hand them out."
He was somewhere between laughing and having his head buried between his knees in utter defeat. "Goddamn it, Rilo."
"It's a compromise." The woman's hands went to her hips. "You giant goose."
Bubbles gasped. Did—did—did she just call Hawks a goose.
Did he just let her call him a goose?
She was sure he'd slapped villains into the ground for that. She'd heard one of the young female officers at the station call him a pigeon once and he'd looked at them with such an insulted, venomous glare, no one had dared say anything like it again.
So—
How was this woman getting away with goose?
"A compromise?" Hawks arched an eyebrow up at her from where he crouched.
"Yep. If I don't get Hawks merch, I'll make my own." She seemed to flick her head up, as if trying to stand taller to make a point.
"Listen, babe, you don't get Hawks merch because you get to fuck Hawks." He held out his hand, flipping it about. "We talked about this last night, yeah. You don't need glossy photos in ratty magazines, because you have the real thing. I'm pretty sure I convinced you just how good of a deal that was."
The woman stroked her hands through his hair. "It was gloriously convincing, but I'm still making the plushies for the kids."
"Okay, okay, fine. Whatever makes you feel like you're contributing. Did you use my card?" Hawks was smiling, truly, brilliantly smiling.
"Yes, Mr. Hero, I spent your money."
"Oh, good." He bounced up. "Want me to fly you home?"
"No. It's okay. I'm trying to learn the public transport system. I thought it would be a good idea, just encase I need to know it for an emergency someday."
He nodded slowly. "That's…a sensible idea, still…be careful with your hour time limit. We still don't know if we're being watched, so, let's not test that."
"I won't." She picked up her bag. "So, on that note, I will head off."
"Wait—" Hawks grabbed her arm, halting her.
His wings expanded, and Bubbles lost view of them both, but she had a suspicion of what they were probably doing behind the protective cove of his wings. Slowly they unfurled and he very reluctantly released the veiled lady. The woman gave her a small bow before quickly slipping out the door into the street beyond. Hawks' eyes followed her until she vanished beyond his vision. Slowly he lifted the Endeavour lunchbox up, smiling at it.
"Heh, she brought me lunch." He held it up. "Bubbles, my wife just brought me homemade lunch. Isn't life good."
His smile was contagious. "Yes sir, it really, really is."
"Should I open it?"
She laughed, joining him in heading up the stairs. "That is what you're supposed to do. Open it, eat it."
She'd interrogate him later, after he'd enjoyed his cute little lunchbox.