Authors Note:
I had a lousy afternoon, so, I decided to do something enjoyable - thus - I wrapped up this chapter, and here I am, posting it early. ^_^;
Ah, there is like - a sprinkle of lime in this - figure I'd note it, just encase anyone still needs to skip such things. I didn't feel like it was enough to remove from FF - but - honestly, I have no idea anymore about these things. ^_^;;
Chapter Fifteen: The Scales Tip
Keigo stared at the little, handmade plushie of himself.
"Well?" Rilo asked, her blue eyes big, and full of such hope.
She sat on their bed, surrounded by cut-outs of fabrics and a whole mess of felt that was going to be a nightmare to get off his silk sheets. He had the oddest flicker of a vision that made his wings ripple to their tips; of her sitting there, nursing a sweet little round bundle of feathers, and her smiling that hopeful smile he found so reflective of his own.
A future, heh—was that even possible? Did he even have the energy to manifest it?
Gods—she looked so optimistic. If he fucked this up and said something really sarcastic right now, which was so, unbelievably tempting, he'd risk causing a cascading reaction of emotions.
It was incredibly tempting, because he was still a jackarse.
She'd put enormous effort into this—he didn't know why—but she had. This was apparently very important to her. And whatever the fuck made her happy, whatever distracted her from the cold, bleak truth of their current predicament, he'd run with it. Afterall, it had always helped him, diving into hero work, ignoring the real reason he existed.
Even her method of distraction was a little plushie of himself, he'd float it.
"I love it. You did an amazing job." He eased himself down on the bed. "Could practically be store brought."
She vibrated with happiness at his praise, making her shining quirk patterns glitter.
Keigo bent over, searching for an old shoe box tucked under the bed. He eased it out, setting it on his lap. Rilo snuggled up beside him, curiously leaning into his arm as he opened the old, ratty box.
"I'd wondered what this was." She murmured. "You didn't bring much over when you moved in, but books and this little box."
"Books and a box, I think that sums up my minimalist lifestyle." He chuckled. "I was allowed to keep this one shoe box from my…pervious life? Yeah, okay, let's go with that. It wasn't like I had much, since my mother and I lived on the streets, but I had collected trinkets that I guess a little boy considered important. Weird shite, you know, like bottle caps and old spent arcade tickets…" he held out one of the tickets. "I think I really wanted to go to the arcade or something, cause I've got a lot of these."
He dug into the box. "I have a whole lot of shiny stones that I spent hours collecting. I used to try and play marbles with them." He produced a small bag of rocks. "Wasn't overly effective, but, I tried to keep myself entertained."
She was gently rubbing his back and he leant into her as he pulled out the small Endeavour plushie.
"However, this was my most prized possession." He held it out, giving it a gentle brush off. It had gotten a little ratty and faded over the years, but considering its age, he had kept it in rather good condition. "The only kindness I recall from my mother." His voice broke just a little at his words.
Rilo's head settled on his shoulder, and he rested his own against hers as he played idly with the arms of the plushie. "Apparently the All-Might one was too expensive…though…to be honest, we probably could have lived off what this guy cost for a few days too."
Rilo's fingers gently played with the roughened scars on his hands. "I was…I was wondering if that was one of the reasons why you're so…hesitant about merch, because it can be inaccessible to some, and perhaps even…using a word you used, hedonistic."
He wiggled the Endeavour plush at her playfully. "While the inaccessibility of many things will always be an irritant to me, I am aware it is a problem I cannot outright solve. Even if I was to donate all my earnings to every foodbank, and every homeless charity, I wouldn't make a dent in the ocean. The issue stems from a rot and a neglect in society that has run deep for generations."
He frowned.
"No one cared when I was a starving child on the streets, and even today, I have seen people walk past the homeless and the despondent without so much as a second glance. Nothing changes."
He squeezed her hand. "So, I suppose, at the core of it all…" Keigo tucked the old Endeavour plushie into the pillow on their bed. "It's more that I fashioned this idealistic image of what a hero was supposed to be, and I don't feel like I can ever live up to it. I almost feel…ashamed…you know…to stand beside men like Endeavour and All-Might, even Jeanie sometimes. Having a merch-line alongside them just feels so disrespectful."
Keigo sighed. "I don't feel very worthy of being a hero, Rilo. Not when I can be weaponized and aimed at anyone, and I can't say anything about it. I don't own…I don't own myself, and I try to ignore it, but it does hurt."
Rilo slid into his lap, holding her homemade plushie. "You know how you always go on about making the impossible possible by crafting up a non-existent reality and making people believe its real, how that's like…how we're going to break out of our cages." She kissed him gently.
He arched an eyebrow at her.
Rilo held up the plushie. "Well, let's take that vision of the hero that kept you alive, and make people believe he's real." Her eyes glittered with tears. "Because he is, Keigo. He's more real than you realise, and he's amazing. He's witty, and sarcastic, and has this ridiculous poof of hair, right here…" She fluffed up his fringe. "He's so incredibly gentle, and always thinks about everyone else before considering himself in a situation. He loves coffee, and cream puffs—but don't tell people he likes cream puffs, that's a secret—his absolute favourite thing to do is fly during twilight. In public he smiles, alone he broods while listening to god-awful techno music. Honest civilians would be shocked to realise that his vocabulary sometimes reverts to that of a twelve-year-old boy discovering the word fuck for the first time." She kissed his nose. "But his hands…" she lifted his hands, running her fingers over the rivets of scars and calluses. "They're the hands of a man who will fight to save every soul, no matter the cost to his own life."
He rubbed at his watery eyes as he chuckled. "Oh, Rilo…"
She wrapped her arms around his neck. "I love you, Hawks," she whispered.
He clutched at her. "Thank you."
000
Keigo stamped into his boots. Inside the studio apartment, Rilo was still dashing about, trying to find her misplaced sketch of the jewellery item she wanted made. That she'd gone as far as actually sketching it up was impressive, but she wasn't letting him see it—which was disappointing.
Or was it worrying—
Oh no—
"I hope its not a picture of me naked." He squinted at her as she suddenly held up a sheet of paper in victory.
She jerked around, glaring at him and he raised his hands innocently. "I didn't see anything."
Rilo folded the sheet, stuffing it into the pocket of her jeans. Snatching one of the jackets hanging off the wall rack, she shrugged into it and joined him on the balcony.
"Are you finally ready to go?" he asked, clapping shut the doors and locking them with his keys, because apparently, he was the only sane person in the world and locked balcony doors.
"Yep. All good."
He looked back at her. She'd put on her visor and headset, a pair he'd ended up getting made for her, so he'd have his spare set back. She'd wanted pink—because pink was cute—he was just grateful she hadn't gone for something All-Might themed. She sat on the balcony railing, at ease with the height and precarious position.
He sighed, slipping on his own headwear. "Apparently your common sense goes out the door when I'm next to you."
She flashed a grin. "Yep. Don't worry, it comes back as soon as you leave."
"I'm glad to hear that." He flipped himself over the balcony railing, dropping several feet before expanding his wings to thrust back up to her. He held out his arms. "Come on then."
Rilo spun around, dangling her legs over the railing.
They'd done it a few times, the whole leaping thing. If he'd had his way, they'd have gone skyscraper dipping, a sure-fire way to get themselves very worked up. There was something incredibly exhilarating about running over skyscrapers, dropping off them, almost hitting the ground and then jettisoning back up to do it again.
That was probably why it was banned.
That—
And—
Inexperienced aviators had been known to hit the ground. One had to be extremely confident in their skills before even attempting a dip, and frankly, due to how aviation quirks were regulated—well—no one learnt those skills, at all.
Learning to dip could save a young aviators life, but it wasn't even taught in school. There were few places that taught it, and those places were growing scarcer as the years went on.
Thus skyscraper dipping remained very illegal.
It was probably a good thing.
But—it would have been fun.
Still, they could always create their own little bit of adrenalin from time to time.
"You will catch me, right?" Rilo paused from launching herself. She asked this question, every time.
He dipped slightly in the air. "No, I'm going to let you fall to your death, because I'm secretly a villain." He twirled about, playfully throwing open his arms. "Surprise."
"Keigo."
"Babe, jump." He motioned.
She leapt. He dipped and scooped, hoisting her up with ease. She sat in his arms with a dazed look. "Okay…that…that…is still insane. I have no idea how you do that."
"A lot of work in the gym, a lot of time spent calculating how objects fall, but…most of it is just instinct."
She laughed, hugging him.
He looped about, heading out across the city. They got a bit wet from a light drizzle, but it wasn't enough to gripe terribly about, though by the time they landed out the front of Bucket's Tatts, they both had very frazzled hair from the dampness.
Keigo flipped off his headset, glancing at the reflective shine of the tattoo parlours neon sign, glowing in the night. The 'a' symbol in 'Tatts' was broken, and he could only think of a very juvenile joke about what it now looked like.
"Bucket's Titts?" Rilo stated.
Keigo cracked a laugh. "Okay, glad I'm not the only stunted man-child standing here."
Rilo flashed a smile. "I'll own that."
He took her hand, slapping open the door and heading inside the warm interior of the small shop. Floral was sweeping the floor in her usual closing-shift toss about. Keigo felt Rilo bunch up against his back, hiding away in a tiny ball at the immediate sight of Floral's pink—well—everything.
It was a lot to take in, the mountain of pink hair, the pink eyes, the neon pink skin, the pink tank top and mini skirt that barely covered her pink undies. Floral was nothing if not herself, and completely, utterly, unashamed of being—well—pink.
"Hawks!" She flung open her arms and was about to launch at him, when Rilo's head poked under his wing, and she halted with a rather spectacular jolt.
"Oh my gosh!" Floral squeaked, dropping her broom. "You brought her. Best day ever!"
"Yeah, so…Rilo, babe," Keigo glanced down at Rilo. "This is Floral, she's a little bit eccentric, but don't let that turn you off, she's lovely, you just need to be really, really firm about personal space and boundaries."
Floral snatched up her broom. "You're just a big grump. Utterly no fun, what-so-ever."
He headed for the counter. "This big grump is wondering if you've finished that commission for me?"
Floral tucked away her broom and began sorting through boxes behind the counter. "I have, sweetie pie. Oh, here it is. A chain, just like yours, for a hero's licence."
Rilo inched out from beneath his wings, curiously peering into the small wooden box Floral handed him. Keigo tipped out the golden chain, holding it out to her.
"It's for Baby Birdies Apprenticeship Licence. Figured it'd make him feel a little more official if he had something nice to go with it."
"He gets them done for all his sidekicks." Floral leant on the counter, addressing Rilo. "He's such a softie. Though, you probably know that more than anyone. Do you like the feather pendant? I think it's one of my best works."
Rilo pulled out the feather from around her neck, smiling as she stroked it. "I love it."
"I'm sure he loves you playing with it too."
Rilo squeaked, dropping the feather. "Sorry!"
Keigo pinched the bridge of his nose. "Stop, Floral. She turns into a neon ball of embarrassment if you tease her too much."
"Ohhh, that sounds amazing. I'm sure that's so much fun for you both. Go on, do tell…I want to know everything!" She leant forward, pink eyes going wide as she looked between them both, fully expecting their reply.
Keigo scoffed. "You have no off-switch, do you."
Floral grinned. "I truly bring much enjoyment to Bucket's boring life."
Holding out his hands, Keigo breathed in deeply. "Would you be up to making another pendant?"
Floral eased off the counter, shifting gears entirely, her expression drawing serious. "If you're wanting another feather pendant, then I presume you want it kept in a living status?"
Keigo nodded.
She tapped the counter. "They're not easy to do, but, I will admit, I do enjoy the challenge. Alright, what are you wanting to commission this time?"
"Something similar to the original, but this one should fit around her waist." He motioned to Rilo.
"Ohhhh, a body chain." Floral flapped her hand around. "Wow, honey, they're so old school. Haven't been in fashion in years. Sheesh, way before your time, baby birdie."
"I know." Keigo pulled out a slender wooden box. "That's why I hoping no one will even think of it." He placed the box down. "Feather."
Floral tapped a pen to her chin, looking between them both with a frown. "Why do I have an uncomfortable feeling the two of you are flying straight into trouble? You're probably going to hit it like a glass window."
Keigo glanced over at Rilo.
"We're just…we're trying to be prepared, Floral."
Floral sighed. She took the slender wooden box, hiding it away beneath her counter. "Okay…I'll try to get it done as soon as possible."
"Thank you, Floral." Keigo waved to Rilo. "Now, Rilo wants to commission something and I'm apparently not allowed to see it, so…is Bucket around?
"Ohhh, how exciting." Floral clapped her hands, grinning at Rilo. "And Bucket is upstairs, probably watching his sports, or…something…I don't know what he does. Go, shoo, shoo, we're having girly time! Leave, ugly male."
Keigo rolled his eyes. He headed for the doorway to the stairs, pausing to glance back at Rilo. "I'll be just up-stairs, you'll be fine, yeah?"
Rilo nodded.
"Floral, be gentle with her." Keigo cautioned. "She's not used to your…" he waved his hands around. "Flamboyance."
"Oh my gosh, stop being an overprotective arsehole." Floral huffed.
"He's not." Rilo spoke up suddenly. "I'd let him know if he was."
"She speaks." Floral clasped her hands tightly. "I was beginning to worry Hawks did all the talking for you. Hawks, why are you still standing there, leave!"
He had a terrible feeling about this, but Rilo nodded an okay to him, so he thumped his way up the stairs, following the sound of a television. He shouldered his way into the apartment above the tattoo shop. It was dingy but had all the markings of a place Floral inhabited with a pink kitchen, and pink wallpaper. Bucket had his little corner where he worked on his tattoo art, and that was kept pink free. Floral knew the boundary line there.
Bucket tipped his head towards him in greeting.
"Hey, birdie hero." The burly man flipped the television to silent as Keigo swung himself over the arm of the creaky lounge-chair, tucking his wings in behind them both.
"Who's winning?" Keigo asked.
"The lame team." Bucket muttered into his beer can.
Keigo chuckled. "Who am I supposed to be rooting for?"
"The guys in red."
"Ah." He squinted at the holographic screen shimmering on the wall.
"Japan, you dim-wit."
"Ah."
"You have no clue what this even is, do you?"
"Nope." Keigo popped his lips. "Is it…basketball?"
Bucket sighed with all the heaviness of a very weary man. "This is soccer."
"Oh. Right." Yeah. He wouldn't have gotten that.
"How could you think this is basketball? They're completely different sports."
"Not really into sports. Not knowelage I've needed to absorb to be honest." Keigo shrugged. "I try to attend one of my sidekick's sibling's volleyball games when I can though, that looks like a lot of fun. I'd have loved that if I'd gone to school. Quirks aren't allowed, but, I'd recon I'd have been pretty good."
"True. You do have the physique for volleyball." Bucket heaved himself out of the armchair, throwing off the weight balance and Keigo tipped to one side, righting himself with an updraft of his wings.
"Do you want a beer?" Bucket stomped towards the small kitchen.
Keigo shook his head. "I still don't drink, Bucket."
"Oh, I know. It's just rude not to ask." Bucket chuckled, opening the fridge, and pulling out another can. "You don't mind do you?" Bucket asked.
Keigo shook his head. "I am capable of disassociating you from my father, Bucket."
"Oh, that's good, because your eyes are tiny little pin-pricks right now, so I wasn't sure." Bucket popped open the can, leaning back on the kitchen counter.
"Don't worry, that has nothing to do with you and everything to do with my currently unbalanced emotional state. I keep shifting between risking Tartarus, actually being logical, or just dropping it all and dunking myself in the Pacific Ocean."
"Hm. Intense. Been there before." Bucket sighed. He held up his beer can. "Surprisingly, this didn't help."
Keigo scoffed. "Can't imagine it did."
"What helped was being proactive, but I get the feeling that's why you're here." Bucket raised his brow. "This about your bird and her mod?"
Keigo nodded. "Despite Recovery Girl's treatments, the mod is still breaking down. I know she's in pain, especially when she's hooked up to the powerplant, however, I'm at work most of the time." He flipped out a hand. "But I can say that whenever I remove the giant fucking cords I feel like I'm murdering her." He glanced at the doorway down into the shop. "She's a trooper about it all, but, it is starting to get to her. She knows she doesn't own her own body, and it has to be terrifying."
He dragged a hand through his hair.
"That is an issue with these types of mod-hancers. They're not really enhancement modifications, you could liken them more to old fashioned yokes."
Keigo's wings rattled. "I don't think she'd have consciously realised all this, if I hadn't come along. I mean, she knew she was going to die within a year or so, but…now she knows she doesn't have too, and that there is more…beyond her tower…" He managed a shrug. "Well, we're trying to have fun despite it all."
"Good." Bucket sipped his beer. "That's what I like to hear. So, I suppose we need to make an appointment for your bird?"
"Well, actually…" Keigo tipped to one side.
Bucket's brow lifted. "She's here?"
"Yeah." Keigo motioned down the stairs. "She's gossiping with Floral. I am a little hesitant about getting you guys to look at the mod though. Last night she had…you know…not so much a nightmare, more like that unconscious memory recall of a trauma." He tipped to the other side on the arm of the couch. "Is it possible to recall a mod procedure, even if you were unconscious?"
Leaning back on the counter, Bucket folded his meaty arms. "There is a lot about the mind we don't know, Hawks. Especially with the awakening of quirks. That opened a can of worm's humans weren't prepared for." He rubbed his chin. "The notes you gave me mentioned that she'd had upgrades to the mod several times."
Keigo nodded.
"She might be recalling those, even with the drugs in her system, I imagine it was extremely painful." Bucket frowned. "Floral doesn't think they have a nervemancer like her working for them."
"Well, it's not like nervemancers just pop up and work for evil governmental organizations."
"No, no, they prefer to work underground, on the black-market, away from annoying Pro Heroes, yet somehow, they still get found by pesky birdies and jeanie-boys." Bucket grumbled.
Keigo raised his middle-finger.
There was a sudden thump that startled them both. Enough that Keigo's wings expanded and he raised himself into an immediate launching position. Floral stormed up the stairs, slamming open the door in wave of pink—everything—
"Floral—" Bucket started.
"Hawks, I need you to stop seeing Recovery Girl."
"What? Why…" His wings flustered in protest.
"I won't be able to remove the mod if you keep seeing her."
Rilo emerged from the doorway, looking about to burst into tears. Keigo pushed past Floral, gathering Rilo into his arms. He hated that those gut feelings he always had, were always right about every little thing. His wings were just never—ever—wrong.
"I'm sorry." Rilo whispered against his chest.
"It's not you. Floral has this ability to get anything out of anyone."
She'd make a great torturer, if he was being honest. Her quirk was practically custom born for it, not that he'd ever—ever—tell her that.
"Floral." Bucket hadn't moved from his spot at the kitchen counter. Most likely he was very used to the way his wife flounced around with all the force of a tornado and simply let her be. "Please expand on this further. Hawks likes details. He won't respond to you telling him not to do something. That's how you get him to march out the door, or drop out the window."
Floral huffed, hands going directly to her hips and the neon pink mini skirt she wore.
"Recovery Girl's quirk is Heal." Floral paced. "It works by rapidly increasing the body's own healing abilities."
"Yes, I am aware." Keigo hissed the words.
"Okay, but scarring is a natural healing process our bodies undergo. People seem to forget this." Floral grabbed Bucket, turning him around and pointing to his back. "Rilo's mod is placed in an area that puts it dangerously close to her spinal cord. Her body is rejecting the mod, and that's causing internal damage."
"Which Recovery Girl's treatments are trying to mediate, right?" Keigo tightened an arm around Rilo and she pressed in closer. She was starting to shake.
"Yes, they are, and the treatments are working to mediate the effects of the mod's gradual break-down, but in doing so, it's causing a rapid growth of scar tissue around the modification itself." Floral pointed to sections on Bucket's back. "In places that will make it difficult for me to cleanly work if I'm to not disturb the central nervous system. Sweetie-pie, both of you, I know this is difficult. But don't make this mod harder for me to get out than it already is."
"Floral, if we stop seeing Recovery Girl…" Keigo glanced down at Rilo. "The mod will start breaking down at a faster rate, according to Recovery Girl…" He didn't want to say with Rilo in the room, but, to hell with it, "that process is what kills them, and I…don't know what…I haven't worked out what to do…"
"Then figure it out." Floral held out her hands. "There is no short cut to this. You are not going to get time. I'm sorry. This isn't a mod you can fuck around with, honey. This is high grade, government installed shite. It isn't the sort of junk that some arsehat brought online and forced on their kid. Hawks, this in industrial. You're asking me to remove something that is designed for industrial purposes…that isn't intended to ever be removed."
He could feel his rising panic, and he clamped down on it fiercely.
"Floral, stop scaring the kids." Bucket urged gently.
"No, they have to understand. This modification is built for one purpose; to drain, and eventually kill, it's host. They do not want her to live, Hawks. She is not human, not to them, she is less-than, and you are fucking around with an expensive piece of governmental property." Floral breathed in deeply. "I know neither of you want to confront this, because it is horrible, and I am so sorry. I am so sorry." Floral finally faltered. "She isn't someone, she is something, and until you change that, we can't do anything."
Keigo curled a wing around Rilo, hiding her away as she sobbed. "You're not giving me much of a choice here, Floral. This is two evils."
"Choose the lesser." She stressed. "And don't fuck it up by ending up dead, or worse, in Tartarus."
000
They both stood on the balcony.
Their balcony.
It meant something.
He'd have never met her, without this stupid balcony and its rusted-out barrier. His quirk wouldn't have sensed hers behind the suppression of the mod-hancer, if she'd never fallen and released such a panicked pulse in that split moment.
Fate.
Just—
Fate.
"I…I don't want to go inside." Rilo whispered. "This place isn't home, Keigo. It's all been a lie…an illusion, to keep me here…" She clutched at his arm. "None of it has ever been real. None of it."
"I know." He flicked out his key, unlocking the alfresco doors. The lock he'd installed, because his hero life had made him distrustful—but apparently—her handlers weren't. They really did believe that no one knew she existed, and therefore, what was the point of a lock so high in a tower.
Rilo hesitated and he glanced back at her. She was trembling, unable to step forward, into the dark hole that had become their reality. What had once been the safe haven, no longer was. She covered her mouth, giving a choking sob.
"Keigo, I…I…I'm so scared…"
He heaved her up, encasing them both in his wings, blocking out the world.
"Listen to me, alright." He clutched at her. "Make me your home." He felt her nod against his shoulder. "When—not if—when we remove that mod—ground your whole magnetic field to me, and I promise, no matter where we go, no matter where life takes us, even if it separates us, we'll have a home…together."
He heaved her up, kicking the doors open.
She rested her head against his chest.
"Well, doesn't this feel familiar." She muttered as he settled her on the couch.
He laughed, brushing at her hair. "Does a bit. Feel like fucking me?"
She rolled her eyes, but her smile was there. "You wish, Mr. Hero."
He tucked her up in a blanket fort, heading for the kitchen. "Do you want tea or coffee?"
"Tea." She mumbled.
Ah, the poison liquid.
"Tea it is." He filled the kettle, settling it to boil. She was crying, very softly, wrapped up in her blanket fort. And there was nothing—nothing—that he could think of that would quell those tears. The infection of fear had settled in, and they'd have to navigate it somehow. He caught the milk as a feather delivered it, only to pause at pouring it into his boring, instant coffee. Yeah. He was just going to leave that a strong black.
"Rilo, do you want milk in your tea?"
"No."
Right, they were both in that sort of sodden mood which required no milk.
He sent the milk back to the fridge and carried the steaming mugs to the coffee table, setting them down. "Scoot over." He muttered.
Rilo crawled across the couch and he thumped down ungracefully, wincing at the pressure against his back.
"The next place we get, we're acquiring proper avian couches."
"Those are a thing?" Rilo paused from sipping her tea.
"They are, indeed, a thing. I'll have to give you a tour of the agency. I have some there."
"I'd like that…" she whispered, leaning against him. He tucked her closer. As reminiscent as was it was of their first night encounter, everything was different. He'd not known anything about her upon that first encounter, but he'd wanted to know more, and now—
He sighed, brushing her arm gently.
It didn't matter. None of it mattered. He couldn't—ever—falter.
Suddenly she broke, curling into a ball, bunching up and heaving out sobs. He snatched for her mug before it clattered onto the floor.
"Shite, Rilo."
"I'm sorry…I'm so, so sorry. This is exactly what I didn't want to happen. Keigo. I'm so sorry."
He frowned at her. She was doing that apologizing thing again, and he had to translate what it was she was saying without getting annoyed.
It was—
Annoying.
But it was also just—her—
"What do you mean, babe?"
"I…I…should have made you walk away…never shown you any of what was behind the curtain, and never let you become involved and then none of this would matter, and you'd never get hurt."
He wasn't appreciating this sentiment from her, but—she was in an extremely vulnerable state, frankly, they both probably were, because usually he wouldn't feel so insulted by her babbling, when that's all it was, just emotional babbling. This was the worse time to think-say-and-do anything.
She kept rubbing at her eyes. "I should have told you to go away, and you'd be none-the-wiser, and I'd just slowly die, like I'm supposed to."
Oh, now he was legitimately pissed.
He snatched her head, pulling her back. Her puffy eyes stared up at him.
"Don't," he barely whispered the word. "You are not supposed to die. Did I not just tell you that we're going to remove the mod—"
"But Floral…she…said…I mean…if we don't go see Recovery Girl, then the mod will break down faster, and I'm…I'm not going to live much longer. Keigo, I know I'm not. I wasn't well when you first met me—"
"I know that." He kissed her nose. "I already know."
"Then why…why did you stay? Was it just our quirks?"
"Sure, maybe that had something to do with it." He tucked a leg up, hemming her in closer. "Part of me was also curious, and I hate not knowing and understanding things, but, mostly…I just really wanted to get to know you. You were safe, and I was selfish. I want things too, you know."
She frowned, as if the thought had never occurred to her.
"I'm not some divine being that saved you, I am, as you say, a jackarse. I like not coming home to an empty place. It's nice spending the evenings talking, or fucking, or flying or just sitting and doing admin while you're lying in my lap." He breathed in deeply. "I am not just fighting for your future, okay." He held her. "I'm fighting for mine too. I'm being a horrible, selfish dick because I want something I shouldn't be allowed to have."
She was crying again, but he was pretty sure he was getting his point across.
"Men like me, we don't get happy endings." He pressed their foreheads together. "But I'm willing to fight for one, so don't give up on me. Please, baby, don't give up on me." He encased them in his wings, clutching at her in a fierce desperation. "Don't let go of me, don't lose faith. We can, and will, get through it."
She opened her mouth, and he pressed a finger to her lips.
"Don't say sorry."
She nodded stiffly. "Okay." She pulled back, balancing on his knees. "Okay. I can take it. I can do it."
He brushed at her damp hair, stuck to her cheeks from the salty residue of her tears. The flickering crackles of her generation quirk tingled his skin as her glow began to brighten a little more with each passing moment.
"I know you can, babe." He dragged the coffee table closer with a foot, thumping his feet down on it to angle his knees upright. Rilo slid down, landing in his lap with a sharp exhale.
"You have no decorum." She puffed out her cheeks.
"No, not tonight." He squeezed the air out of her cheeks. "Stand up so I get your jeans off."
"So romantic." She heaved herself up, standing on the couch in front of him. He loosened them, yanking them down around her ankles and off her feet, one by one.
"Do you want romantic?" He threw her pants aside. "Because the vibe I'm getting is rough stress-relief, but hey, I can always go fetch some cute little tea candles for you."
"I just want you, Keigo." Her hands fisted through his hair as he shrugged off his own pants, pitching them across the apartment.
"Well, that I can, and will always, provide." He smirked up at her as his hands gripped her thighs. She covered her face as that delightful neon pink glow radiated through her skin, almost reaching the silver bundle of hair between her thighs. He gently kissed her stomach, and she gave the softest of little noises as her muscles bunched.
That—
Right there—
That was what he wanted to hear; not pain, or sorrow, or fear, but the delightful sound of pleasure that was only expressed when it had nowhere else to go. She'd never understand how truly a wonderful a gift she'd presented him; that he was capable of doing more than killing and being more than a weapon.
000
Sprawled out on the couch, both emotionally, and physically spent, Keigo stared at the cement ceiling of the powerplant—not their apartment—not home—the powerplant. He rubbed at his aching eyes and folded a wing back around them, warding off the encroaching chill. They could have shifted to the bed, but neither of them where overly inclined to move from their tangled-up position. It simply felt too good to be entwined like a bundle of sticks, and it wasn't like they were cold beneath his wings. Honestly, something about the two of them, curled up in the cocoon that warded out the world, felt far more natural than any other sleeping position.
He chalked it up to an old aviator feeling that his quirk was probably picking up on.
But he had firmly decided that no matter where they ended up next, he was spending money on a better set of couches. There was no point to a couch if he couldn't sit on it comfortably, or have sex on it comfortably—a couch basically only served those two functions, right?
"You know, I'm surprised we didn't break the couch." Rilo suddenly piped up.
Keigo peaked open an eye.
Her glow was the only thing that illuminated their small world within his wings. "Hm. Now who's being vulgar." He pinched her butt cheek and she squeaked.
"Owe. Don't do that."
"Go to sleep, babe."
Rilo snuggled in closer as if desperately trying to latch on to the only thing now comfortable—or safe—inside the apartment she'd grown up within.
"Thank you…"
Her whisper was barely audible.
He continued to gently stroke her back, running his fingers over the mods.
"Thank you for…stepping…into my world, and…saving me," she continued.
Keigo breathed in deeply.
It had been all he'd ever wanted as a boy. To be seen, to be saved, for someone—anyone—to just notice.
"You held your own, princess." He closed his eyes, smiling into her hair. "Now let's fucking burn this tower down together."
She giggled. "Now that sounds romantic."
He snorted, raising a leg to twist around her. "Don't make me start round two."
"Wait…was that supposed to be a threat?" she asked.
"Yes, because I'm tired." Keigo muttered.
"Ohhhh. No, I'm still confused."
"Go to sleep, Rilo."
"So confused."
"Rilo. Sleep."