Chapter Twenty-One: gunpowder treason
Hawks studied the rather adorable little handmade card that Tsubame had just handed to him along with his Monday morning coffee. "Er…okay?"
"It's from Haia."
"Ah." Hawks flicked the card up and a rain of dazzling glitter was dumped over his costume. "Nice."
Large, looping script that he was pretty sure spelt his name, was written in glitter, along with numerous smiley face stamps. He carefully folded the card up, tucking it away in his jacket. He'd find a spot for it on his desk in his office at the agency; once he'd figured out how to stop the glitter from getting everywhere. Typical Haia, knowing how to be both adorable and annoying at the same time.
It was a true talent.
Tsubame stepped back against him, allowing several morning commuters to whizz past on their electric scooters. He puffed at her red hair, and she looked up at him.
"You've been seeming a bit off lately, he wanted to cheer you up."
"I am very cheered." Hawks dusted at the glitter now coating his pants. "Didn't realise an almost six-year-old can notice someone being off-mood."
"He thinks the world of you, Hawks, of course he'll notice you've been a little quieter on the way to school. All the boys have remarked on it."
Hawks frowned. "Sorry. I've had a lot on my mind."
"You don't need to apologise about it, gosh." Tsubame bumped him. "All these years and you've put up with my mood-swings, pretty sure we can deal with your…whatever this is."
She waved her hands over him, as if indicating his entire existence had altered somehow. Right, he was very tempted to tip her upside and rattle her around. If only that was an appropriate way to deal with colleagues. Hm. He sipped his coffee.
"So, Osamu is coming home for spring break, yeah?" he asked.
"Yes. Yes, he is." For someone whose husband was returning after a long stint away, Tsubame neither sounded excited nor happy.
"Told him about Haia yet?"
"Kind of."
"Just…kind of."
"Yep. Kind of."
"Tsu."
"Oh please, don't judge, Hawks." Tsubame flopped back, groaning.
"I'm not judging. That condemnation you seem to feel is all from yourself. My concern, Tsu, is that your husband is very—very—I stress this to the fucking moon—very anti-quirk, and mediating that needs…communication. Something you are so bad at."
"Not in public, Hawks." Tsubame hissed at him.
He sighed. "Whatever. It's your marriage. I've got mine to worry about at the moment, so, have at yours." He strolled on ahead, leaving her looking extremely confused.
"Hawks!"
He looked up.
Bubbles floated directly above him. That was a bit odd. She wasn't on patrol this morning. She was supposed to be back at the agency, doing her usual boring Monday morning admin things that she really enjoyed doing for some reason.
"Villain?" he asked, though, from her expression it couldn't have been. She was looking far too happy—
Oh—
Oh no—
His wings puffed out in alarm—
A confetti-popper erupted over his head and he froze as Bubbles flung her arms around him, squealing and bouncing with unabashed enthusiasm and delight. Around them, the civilians on their morning rush, slowed to watch the scene. He could see smiles, hear laughter, and feel the growing warm buzz in the air as the contagion of joy grew.
He smiled, blowing back a streamer from his face.
"What's the occasion, Bubbles?"
She pulled away, her blue cheeks dazzling bright rose pink. It was very pretty on her.
He loved that happiness.
He loved seeing it in the everyday people he interacted with, and in those closest to him. All of life's troubles were worth enduring when that warm glow of happiness radiated from a person.
"Hawks, we did it! We did it." Bubbles clasped her cheeks, spinning around on a bubble she created beneath her feet. "Top ten!"
All around him the small crowd that had gathered seemed to ripple as the news set in. A new, strange sense of peace settled over his wings, despite the noise around him, and the invasion of his space. An awful, cynical part of himself had always mocked his popularity amongst the people of Fukuoka, thinking it nothing more than a result of that lie—that fabrication he had been forced to forge to survive outside of the Commission.
But now—
Now it felt real—
And safe—
He was allowed to accept this, right? Those cheers, that laughter, the joy around him—it wasn't fake—
He was Hawks, the Hero of Fukuoka.
Madam President could never—ever—take that away from him.
Tsubame had grabbed Bubbles arm. "Are you serious? Bubbles! Top ten!"
Great. Now there was two of them.
He laughed.
"Yes! I am! I just got the invites to the Heroes Ranking Convention." Bubbles squealed, wrapping Tsubame in a hug. The two did the girly thing of bouncing up and down in glee—well—maybe not a girly thing only, if Canary had been here, the little fluff-ball would have likely joined in. It was more a personality trait Hawks supposed.
Hawks continued to brush confetti off. Confetti and glitter—what a morning. "How long have you had that confetti-popper stashed away, Bubbles."
"Forever." She grinned at him. "Just for this occasion."
He settled her with a warm, fond smile. "I couldn't have done it without you."
She grabbed his shoulders, shaking him. "Hawks, we are going to the Heroes Ranking Convention! I have never been so excited in my entire life! I got you into the top ten! I am the best personal assistant ever!"
He just let her have this one. His moment would be the stage he stood on, her moment was this one, right here, surrounded by the love and laughter of their people, and really, he couldn't have been prouder to have been her boss.
000
All-Might had a plan—but that hadn't stopped Keigo from his own late night thought sessions—it had perhaps made them worse. Now that the anxiety over not knowing what to do had been released, his mind was thinking—well—not a hundred percent clearer, but it was sharper than it had been.
Which was why he was currently sitting propped up at the kitchen counter, on his third coffee of the night, doing something extremely prohibited, even for him.
Not career ending, like getting fucked behind the police station.
He dropped his head to one side, sipping his coffee.
Yeah, he was still contemplating where his sanity had gone for allowing that.
Weirdly enough, what he was doing right now wasn't as dangerous for his career. Sure, it was dangerous for his physical and mental health—but not so much his hero career. How peculiar the world was.
He'd searched the powerplant apartment, high and low, looking for manuals on the powerplant itself. Rilo had gone through training, and schooling, but all of it had been remote learning. She'd never come in contact with anyone from the Bureau itself—at least—she had no memories of that contact.
She had nightmares of the contact.
But no waking memories.
Her control-desk regulated power distribution throughout Fukuoka, and he'd learnt, rather interestingly, looking over her shoulder, that different sectors of his city received entirely different flows of that power distribution—
And at different prices too.
The whole thing was hideously rigged.
Unfortunately, that wasn't the cog he was working on removing. The cog he was trying to remove was bundled up in their bed, that had turned into more of a nest to keep her warm as her internal generator flickered out.
His search for manuals on the powerplant had come up fruitless, so, he'd decided he'd have to go direct to the source. It'd been a while since he'd done any old fashioned hacking, but the wonderfully delightful thing about the governmental departments, was how similar all the backend of their severs were. One department rolled into another department, which rolled into another. They were all painfully old, the code so ancient, it was practically another language from the dawn of the technology Spike.
"And that's probably what they think protects them…" Keigo murmured.
He raised his head, hearing a rasping cough. Rilo unfurled from the mountain of blankets around her.
"Babe, you okay?"
Rilo waved a hand around. "I'm fine."
She crawled out, landing awkwardly on the floor. "I'm still fine."
"Do you need help?" he asked. "Can you get up?"
Rilo was coughing blood into her hands. It was extremely alarming to watch, and twisted knives through his gut every time she had one of the fits.
His wings twitched. "Rilo? Honey…" He started to ease off his chair as his own panic overwhelmed him. He'd tired—he'd really tired not responding to the fear, but in the end, that had just made it worse.
And so—
He was owning it.
He was letting himself feel the raw fear of watching someone he loved suffer, and being incapable of doing anything but offer comfort. There was no sudden fix. No immediate saving. This was their four-by-four room, and they'd have to endure it for a while—together.
At least they were together.
She finally calmed, wiping the blood on the track suit pants she wore—his pants—which she had stolen, and he just—yep—he was beyond caring at this point. Weakly she climbed onto her bare feet and padded towards the kitchen.
"I'm fine," she rasped out.
The salt from her tears made her dulled cheeks glint. Keigo reached up, brushing gently at the wet residue. "I know you are," he murmured. "I know."
Her bloodied hands held his and she kissed his knuckles. "What are you doing? You've been out of bed for hours. I thought you had an early shift in the morning."
"Sleep is for losers." He scoffed. "I don't need sleep."
"Right, so, when we have kids, you're taking all the night shifts."
"Sure, no problem." Keigo winked.
"Hm, you're a goose."
"Yes, please, babe, talk dirty to me."
"Bad, Keigo, bad." Rilo flicked at his ears, and he grinned.
She eased around his wings carefully, opening up the coffee drawer, one of the only remaining things in the kitchen that remained fully stocked. He was convinced they now lived entirely off chicken takeaway and coffee.
He really hoped he was never interviewed for a health magazine, because his diet was shite and not a hero diet whatsoever.
"And what is my goose doing with all this…" Rilo gestured at his set up.
"Yeah, don't touch anything, gorgeous." He quickly added. "Don't know how your quirk will react to the gear, even with you being all…dulled."
Rilo cranked on the coffee machine.
"Okay. No touching super-secret spy gadgets. Got it."
"I'm currently sleuthing my way into a very specific part of the Bureau's database, trying to find the manuals, and old blueprints to this powerplant."
Rilo paused, halting her work at the coffee station. "What? Seriously…you can do that?"
He tossed a hand about. "Yes…I can…should I…no…would Madam put me in my torture room for a day or two for the transgression…yes…yes she would."
Rilo was silent for a moment.
"She can still do that?"
"Ah, yeah. Don't worry about it. Hasn't happened in ages."
"But she could take you away from me?"
"Babe, can we please concentrate on one problem at a time."
Rilo sighed.
"Okay. So…my question then, is why are you being so reckless?" Rilo's hands massaged his shoulders, and he eased back against her as his wings rippled in delight from the touch.
"Because I'm going to blow up this building for you."
Her hands froze.
He tipped his head up, smiling at her stunned expression. "Romantic, yes?"
"You know, most guys just give flowers."
"Boring. Flowers. Nah. Chocolate, bleh. Now, blowing up a fucking building…perfect level of romance."
She giggled against his shoulder. "You're such a goof. I have no idea why I love you so much."
"Oh, you would prefer the flowers?"
"No, no, please, blow up the building." Rilo tweaked the wing links on his back playfully. "Just, don't get in trouble. I'm still feeling guilty about the police station."
"Haha, shite, you too. Apparently, we both do have a conscience."
Rilo groaned into his back. "What was wrong with us that week."
"A lot of things, babe."
"I could have ruined your career." She fiddled with his wings anxiously.
"You live and learn, honey." He tapped out a passcode, happy when his screen didn't go death-red. "Babe. No wing play, I'm kinda in the middle of something."
"Sorry, sorry." Rilo snatched her hands away. "I'm a bit needy."
"I'll be finished soon." He smiled. "Then you can play."
Rilo nursed an Endeavour mug to her lips. That was all they had left in the apartment now, two Endeavour mugs. She'd carefully hand-wrapped each of her beloved All-Might mugs and he'd had one dangerous flight lugging them to Musutafu. He'd been so worried one of them would shatter and that there would have been tears—not just from Rilo, but Izuku as well.
Those two and their love of things.
Rilo leant back on the kitchen counter. "So, how are you actually infiltrating the Bureau's database? If you could do that, then, couldn't you find details out about me, and my mod?"
He glanced at a note he'd scrawled down. The date he was pretty sure Rilo's plant had been built, and typed that in. Ah—there it was—the schematics and manuals.
"One moment, babe." Keigo reached for a spare portable burner-drive, turning it on. Right, hopefully none of this shite would corrupt itself over the transfer.
"Ah…" he eased back, breathing out the tension in his wings and letting them settle on the floor. "Well, technically I'm not burrowing that deep. Pretty sure I'd be booted out the moment I started sniffing around for info on living generators. Basic infrastructure is something a little easier to get a hold of…also…I am using some underhanded techniques."
"Underhanded techniques?"
"Yep. See, technically…my Commission authorisation is high-level enough to get me into most governmental departments, but there a catch to using it. I do leave a footprint behind. Not good." He waggled a finger. "Makes it basically useless."
"Hm." Rilo pouted. "Why even have it."
"Sometimes leaving a footprint is needed." He shrugged. "But for this, no, I don't want to. So…I had to think about it. I'm very sure the Bureau know I'm here, with you, but I'd like neither of us to be tied back to the Bureau after all this is done."
He flashed a grin. "So, the other day, when I had to drop by The Commission to confirm my hit…" he flapped his mobile about playfully. "I might have…acquired…a few of my lovely colleague's authorisation passcodes…and I figured…ah…why not just use them."
Rilo's hand slid down his back and snaked between his thighs. "Oh, you are a such a bad boy, Keigo."
He smirked, tipping his head towards her. He rubbed their noses together. "Yes, I am. You are more than welcome to punish me for my terrible transgressions—later."
Her hand tightened where it had been rubbing between his legs.
"Later then," she whispered, and his skin tingled. "Would you like a refill on your coffee while you steal evil governmental secrets?"
He held out his Endeavour mug. "Yes, thank you, wifey…" he paused from handing it over.
"What?" Rilo asked.
Keigo reached for her, brushing at the blood dripping from her nose.
"Oh. Oh no." Rilo looked around, finding the paper towels.
She held one to her nose and sighed. "I feel like I've lost litres of blood, but it's probably not much at all." Her cheeks crinkled in amusement.
Keigo stroked her tangled hair. "You're amazing babe."
"Hm, thank you, Mr. Hero."
He chuckled, turning his attention back to the powerplant blueprints. Rilo's head dropped against his shoulder. He dragged her barstool closer, encasing her in a wing. Soon, only the sound of his typing filled the apartment. He was almost sure she'd fallen asleep against him.
"Oh, whoops." Keigo flicked his hands back as several red warnings flashed across his laptop screen.
"Keigo?" Rilo shifted up in concern.
"Ah, I just got bounced off the Bureau's server. Oh well. Pretty sure I got everything I needed." He placed his hands together in a prayer position. "My deepest apologises to random Commission employee Satroi Ken, your sacrifice is noted in the flight logs."
Rilo burst into giggles, folding onto the kitchen counter. "You're so horrible."
"Just the worst." He tapped the countertop. "So watch'tcha going to do about it, Lightbulb?"
From where she leant against her arms on the counter beside him, only the glow of her vibrant eyes really remained, making the rest of her look like an eerie, stone statue. He reached out a hand, gently brushing his fingers over her arm, mindful of the bruised and swollen mod-hancer nodules.
"Can we go flying…" she whispered. "Just us…and the sky…"
"Sure, beautiful." He forced a pained smile. "Let's go flying."
0000
Keigo landed roughly, skipping several paces. Whoops. That was one of the worst landings he'd made in a while. He was going to blame how exhausted he was getting. He'd been wholly unaware of just how much he'd come to rely upon what little regenerative qualities Rilo's quirk had been providing, even with the mod blocking most of the reciprocal flow. Now that they were actively having to not activate it to try and slow down the mods decay—by being boring and wearing clothes to bed—he was back to feeling completely drained, and constantly hitting a wall when it came to his energy levels.
"Wow-wee. That was shite."
He looked over his shoulder at the comment.
Er—
Who the fuck—
Oh—
The name flicked up like a card-sheet in his mind.
Right—
Dabi—
His senses kicked into overdrive. Sadistic pyromancer psychopath; he'd known it, the moment he'd noticed the young man lounging in the tattoo chair.
"Your observation is noted…" Keigo tucked his wings up tight. It was the only way to keep himself from physically attacking the taller man. "…and dismissed." He raised both his middle fingers as he walked past Dabi, heading for Bucket's Tatts across the empty road. "You may now go fuck yourself."
Dabi followed him lazily, swinging a bag of what looked like takeaway, back and forth in an idle manner. "You are not what I expected the Wing Hero to be."
"I live to disappoint." Keigo paused at the sidewalk, waiting for the man to pass him. "Stop following me." This villain was one he did not trust to have at his back.
"Not following you, pretty bird." Dabi shook his head. "I'm crashing on Bucket's couch."
Keigo arched an eyebrow. "Seriously?"
Dabi shrugged. "I needed a place to stay. I help around the shop. It allows Floral to focus on her…ah…other work, if you know what I mean."
"Unfortunately, I do." Keigo murmured. "I hope she's being careful. As big as her heart is, one wrong move will alert the authorities."
"I figure the two of them are in this city because you look the other way, right?"
Keigo tipped his head to one side. "What I don't know about, I can't report. It's as simple as that."
"Blurry line, Hero."
"Oh, there is a line? Fuck, I had no idea." Keigo shoved open the shop door. The doorbell chimed a delightfully familiar tune. "Hey, Bucket, your newest arsehole is telling me about some imaginary line that, apparently, I can't see."
Bucket looked up from where he sat behind the counter, reading a newspaper. He glanced back and forth between them both and sighed heavily. "Great. You met outside the shop…"
"Oh. Yeah. We did." Keigo dragged a hand through his hair. "I'll let it slide, once, Bucket. Once."
Bucket rubbed wearily at his eyes. "Dabi, leave Hawks alone. He's under a lot of stress."
"Oh, I noticed." Dabi grinned as he dumped the takeaway on a small table in the shop. "His landing sucked. If I was rating it; zero points. Only way it could have been improved is if he tripped and fell flat on his face."
Keigo pointed to the pyromancer. "Okay. For real, will he be missed if I kill him?"
"Hawks." Bucket cautioned.
Several feathers hovered, calcifying into sharp blades. Keigo didn't move. "Headshot, clean, then I just dump the body in the ocean. Your couch is empty again. All problems solved."
"Wait, is he serious?" Dabi backed up a step. "Oh, fuck. He's serious. He's fucking serious." The air in the tattoo studio grew warmer. Keigo smelt smoke. He cocked his head towards the young man, rattling his wings in warning.
"Fucking try it, villain."
"Hawks. Don't." Bucket slapped a hand down on the countertop. "You know the rules in my shop. This is a safehouse. The door is over there if you can't deal."
Keigo clicked his tongue in irritation, shifting his attention to Bucket. "I came in for that order I made. You said it had arrived."
Bucket sunk back on the stool he sat on. "Before I give it to you, are you positive you want to—"
"Yes."
"Alright. Alright." Bucket held up his meaty hands. "It's your life, birdie hero."
"I know you and Floral are putting a lot on the line for me—"
Bucket shook his head. "We've gotta save your bird, yeah." He ducked under the counter, sorting through boxes, before pulling one out and slapping it down. "Right, there is enough explosive material in here to take out that tower of yours. Included are also the detonators you'll need to work the implosion technique if you're to bring it down on itself." Bucket handed over several folded pages.
"These are the instructions for where to place the explosives, it's the best I can give you based on the blueprints you provided. Controlled demolitions take considerable precision and months of planning, so, I can't promise this will work entirely as outlined. It's been a while since I've worked in this industry, so I am a bit rusty."
Keigo took the papers. "Thanks Bucket."
Bucket smiled. "Give them hell, Hawks."
"Oh, I intend too."
Dabi leapt up on the counter to sit lazily, nursing his takeaway meal. "I'm confused. You're giving the Hero of Fukuoka explosives?"
Bucket accepted the wad of cash Keigo handed him.
"Oh, shite, you're paying him too. Wow." Dabi whistled.
"Yeah, because explosives just fall from the sky. Like magic." Keigo drawled out. "Where else am I supposed to get illegal quantities of high-grade explosives other than through the black market."
"So, you're a corrupt hero, that it?" Dabi held out a chopstick.
"Remember, remember, the 5th of November,
Gunpowder, treason, and plot.
I see no reason
Why gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot." Keigo dipped his head, side to side, as he murmured the rhyme.
Dabi arched an eyebrow. "Okay. What?"
Keigo packed the box into his gym bag. "You really need to read up on your pre-quirk world history if you can't even get that reference, and you're living with Bucket and Floral."
Bucket chuckled. "Go on, Hawks. Get back to your bird. You look exhausted."
Keigo latched the gym bag to his belt. "Alright. Thanks Bucket." He headed for the door, pausing and turning to face Dabi.
"If I ever see you outside this shop again, expect hand-cuffs."
"Kinky."
Keigo slapped open the door. "How about I just make that a feather through your skull then."
"Hand-cuffs will be fine." Dabi's grin turned into a leer. "If you can get near enough to put them on me without turning to ash."
Keigo sighed as he stepped out into the night. He was going to regret not piecing that man's skull when he had the chance—he had just that horrible, awful feeling that vibrated every feather—and his wings were never, ever wrong.
But—
That was a problem for another day—
Right now—
He had other things to deal with, like rigging a building to collapse.
If there was a line. He was pretty sure he'd stepped over it.
000
"You've lost your mind." Rilo held his shoulders, shaking him. "The stress has finally eaten all your brain cells. I did this to you."
He chuckled. "I'm perfectly sane, babe."
"You just said you're going to put explosives through the powerplant, while we're still living here."
"Yep."
"Explosives you just purchased from Bucket."
"Yep."
"Keigo…" Rilo started shaking him again. "That's not what normal people do."
"We're not normal, are we?" he heaved her up, spinning her around. "Anyway, normal is boring. I promised I'd bring this place down, so that's what I'm going to do. Exciting, yes."
"Knock, knock…that's Tartarus calling." Rilo clutched at him as he bounced onto the bed with a backward thump, catching her weight as not to jar her, or the delicate state of the degrading mod-hancer.
"Right now, babe, I'm more afraid of losing you than I am of the scary prison of doom."
"I know." She lay against his chest and they just rested there, on the ruffled, unkept blankets of the nest he made every night to tuck her in.
The apartment was in considerable disarray. It was interesting. The moment Rilo no longer considered it home, her need to keep anything tidy had just vanished. It was a very fascinating facete of her personality. It meant she wasn't really a tidy person.
It thoroughly amused him.
More than it probably should have in the moment.
"Keigo, why is All-Might doing all this for us?" Rilo sat up, rubbing at her bare arms.
He eased off the bed, grabbing one of his jackets from the floor to fold around her. She was getting unnaturally cold, and even with his considerably warmer temperature, he wasn't capable of keeping her heated. It simply wasn't that type of chill. There was so much about her quirk they didn't know, and just didn't understand.
"Well," he eased down beside her. "I can't claim to know the mind of the great Symbol of Peace, but, it is possible he's just as lonely as we've been. Might have even felt caged by his position, incapable of doing, and being, and wanting things average people have…" Keigo looked out across the cityscape. "He said something interesting to me the other day, about how heroes live their lives lying…and I donno…it sorta felt like he was talking about himself too."
Reaching out for her hand, he grasped it. "So I don't think he's just doing it for us. I think in everything everyone does, is a selfishness to seek our own happiness, and I don't think that's a bad thing. We are all deserving of happiness."
"But not evil governmental organizations."
"Nope. Fuck them." He jumped up, his wings rattling in excitement. "Want to watch me set explosives."
"You have weird ideas of foreplay, Keigo."
"I know, I am a genius. Come on, up, up, up." He heaved her over his shoulder. "Let's go!"
She burst into laughter, and oh—it was such a lovely sound.
000
Keigo shuffled out from under the enormous battery. He sat up, dusting himself off. "That was the last one." He checked his list. "Yep. Now we just need to sync the detonators in sequence."
Rilo tucked herself up beside him, studying the print out curiously. "So…you're hoping the building will sort of fold in on itself."
"Pretty much. That's the general idea." He banged a hand against the battery. "According to the manual, these things are built to withstand a category eight earthquake. That'd most likely take out the city, so, I'm confident bringing the building down around them won't do anything to the actual internal infrastructure itself." He heaved himself to his feet, taking her hand, and together they headed back up the long, creaking flights of metal stairs and interlocking walkways laced throughout the innards of the powerplant. Honestly, it was quite the machine, if he really looked at it. From the outside, it appeared exactly like any other apartment building, and the other apartment buildings around it were nothing more than placeholders that held more enormous batteries. The whole neighbourhood Rilo had designed in her elegant and—as she insisted—sweet—style was nothing more than an illusion. It was no wonder he'd thought it a little odd when he'd first flown in. It had all seemed just a little too—perfect—and safe—and quiet—
And he, nor his sidekicks and ever patrolled this area.
Really, that should have been his first sign that everything was off. Sometimes, he was a bit dense.
"Gah." Hawks leant on a railing, midway up the tower. "I can't believe you run these stairs everyday, just for fun."
"I get so bored." Rilo whined. "Well, I'm not doing it at the moment, you know, since the mod…anyway…so…I doubt I could keep up with you in bed anymore."
He half choked on a laugh. Because that was the last thing he'd expected to hear from her as a concern. "That's your worry."
"Yeah, a bit." She pouted.
"Rilo, you do not ever need to keep up with me. Do not put that pressure on yourself."
"Well, I don't…not really, it's more that I'm aware of how weak I am at the moment, I guess."
"Tell me about it." He dragged himself off the railing. "I think you spoilt me, and now gravity feels like some enormous force I have to fight against every moment of every day."
"Oh, glad I'm not the only one suffering." She playfully dug an elbow into his ribs.
"So mean." He pressed a kiss to her forehead, watching as her eyes fluttered shut, and her lips parted in a soft sigh. It was worth it—everything was worth it—just to hear her happiness. Raising his hands he brushed his thumbs over her lips, watching as she gave the smallest smile, eyes still closed.
"What?" she whispered.
"Shh." He tried to be slow—and gentle—but there was a raw desperation that she probably sensed as his mouth met hers. He thumped back a step, catching her weight as he hoisted her up, and he flipped his wings around them. Without her usual, intense illuming glow, it was eerily dark now, whenever he encased them, but slowly the soft pink glow began to warm her cheeks. He chuckled as her teeth tugged on his bottom lip, her hands clutching fiercely around his neck.
"Keigo…"
He carefully settled her back on the rickety metal walkway, unfurling his wings. "You just needed a bit of warming up."
While she wasn't as bright as she once had been, some colour had returned to her cheeks. Enough to show there was a burn left in her—and that glorious, adorable, sweet embarrassment that made his toes and wings tingle was well and truly still alive. She dropped her head against his chest, thumping her forehead up and down.
"How do you do that so nonchalantly…"
"You make it very easy, babe." Keigo brushed his fingers through her hair. "I truly, and honestly mean it when I say you've given me something to tether myself too. Getting to come home to you…it makes it all worth it."
She clutched at his shirt. "I am so glad."
"I know." He dipped them both playfully to one side. "Which is why I still have that picture of you pulling that god-awful duckie face as my phone background." Keigo flashed a sudden grin. "Instant way to make me feel better in a shite moment at work."
"Oh no," Rilo covered her pink face. "You said you deleted it."
"Never." He pulled out his mobile, revealing the photo. "See, babe, this is cute."
Rilo slapped her hand over the offending photo. "It is not cute, Keigo."
"It's fucking adorable."
"I look ridiculous."
"I know. I love it." He gently kissed her temple, feeling her sink against him. "You alright to keep going?" he asked.
"Yeah." Rilo nodded.
"I can carry you." He offered.
Rilo squared her shoulders. "I'm not that dead yet!"
"That's the spirit."
They started up the stairs again. Slow—and he was very tempted to pick her up, as her hands were trembling from the pain.
"So…who exactly is going to detonate all the explosives?" Rilo looked down into the bowels of the powerplant that had been her entire life.
"Ah…" Keigo rubbed his chin. "Yeah, so, I'm still working on that. I have an idea, but it's a wild one, and I may live to regret it…but…also, there is something about using the resources handed to you when you have them."
"You are nothing if not resourceful." She smiled.
He kicked open the door to the studio apartment. "Well, this resourceful husband of yours must once again report that he brought that nice plain chicken and rice combo for dinner."
Rilo giggled. "I am not complaining."
"Oh, good, cause I'm pretty sure I am single handily keeping a local convenience store afloat with our dinners." He cracked a grin.
0000
Hawks had almost given up on his wild idea. He supposed he had given the villain a rather stern warning, so, it wasn't as though he was expecting to ever see the pyromancer psychopath again, therefore, the sheer randomness of noticing him on a patrol was jolting.
Hawks stared across the street as Dabi just blatantly exited the pharmacy in sector eighteen, completely nonchalantly, broad daylight, not a care in the world.
"The balls on this man." Hawks sipped his coffee. He released several dozen surveillance feathers across the area. Sector eighteen was one of the coarser neighbourhoods in Fukuoka—it wasn't unkept—it was simply tired, the buildings worn and chipped. Money here was spent on surviving day-to-day. One cared little about appearances of buildings, or even of oneself, when food was scarcer, and bedding was not promised.
This was the neighbourhood that needed a hero's agency, and he'd have planted his agency in the middle of it, if the mayor had let him—
But he'd learnt, rather quickly, that being a hero was as much about balancing bureaucracy as it was walking the streets.
"Oh…found you…" Hawks smiled, a feather picking up Dabi's presence down a nearby alleyway. With a bounce he lifted several feet and ran along an old wall, bouncing again to summersault onto a building's roof and spearhead in the direction of his surveillance feather. He poked his head over the edge of the alley, peering down into the shadows to spot Dabi and a young woman.
Holding his coffee between his teeth he carefully climbed his way down, easing onto the back wall of the alley to perch himself in the shadows, listening to the discussion between the two. How fascinating, they were exchanging drugs, probably what Dabi had just fetched from the pharmacy, indicating the girl had reasons for not wanting it known she was needing morning after pills.
Hawks watched as the young woman passed over a bag. She gave a warm smile to Dabi before quickly dashing away, back to the glow of the street. He waited until she was completely gone before he spoke.
"So, do I need to do a well-fare check on her."
Dabi physically jostled in alarm. It was unlikely the man would ever admit that he had been startled, but it was obvious that he had been by the way his wild, frantic eyes stared up at him, perched on the brick wall.
Hawks sipped his coffee and waved. "Hey yo."
"How…how the fuck…"
Hawks shot a feather straight past Dabi's ear, a papercut thin slice leaked blood and Dabi blinked in shock. He lifted a hand, brushing at the blood.
"Imagine…" Hawks eased down to sit comfortably on the wall, tapping his takeaway coffee on a knee. "That could have been straight through your skull, at any moment, in the past ten minutes."
"Ah…okay, okay, so, listen, I can explain…" Dabi held up a hand. "That girl was providing a service."
"Ah ha." Hawks leant on his palm. "Sure thing, buddy. Super fascinating story."
"We were exchanging drugs, that's all."
"And now, you're digging an even deeper hole."
"Hey, do I look like I can get morphine legally to you." Dabi motioned to himself and then held up the paper bag.
"Pretty sure Bucket could get it for you." Hawks shrugged.
Dabi scoffed. "I don't need that lecture."
"Hm." Hawks tapped his knee. "Well, congratulations, not only do you get a lecture, you also get a nice, shiny pair of hand-cuffs."
Dabi ran.
Hawks arched an eyebrow at the pathetic and comical attempt of an escape. He launched himself, slamming down in front of Dabi, blocking the man's route out of the alley.
Dabi held up both hands, retreating several steps. "Okay, wow, birdie hero…I apologize for commenting about your shite landing the other day, but, this is harassment."
Hawks flicked out two feathers, snatching them up as blades. "I told you that if we met outside the shop, I would either cuff you or kill you. So, which will it be?"
"I had a serious think about this, and I've decided, neither." Dabi raised a finger, the tip igniting in a blazing blue flame. The heat from just the tiny source enough for Hawks to feel against his skin, even from meters away.
"You don't want to do this, pretty birdie." Dabi leered.
Fierce wing activated, the sonic clap reverberating through the tight confines of the alley. The flames came at him like blades, piercingly hot. They didn't even need to make contact to do damage, his skin burnt by just proximity.
Hawks flipped and twisted, hearing Dabi's manic laughter. He skidded away from the scorching heat as it melted through the bricks of the building behind him, turning the stones into boiling liquid.
Dabi tilted his head to one side and playfully tapped a foot, making sparks with each beat. "Scared, pretty birdie."
"What, of you?" Hawks tossed his blade. "No. I'm up against something far more terrifying than a rouge pyromancer. Besides, you seem to be under the impression that you have somehow cornered me."
Dabi looked around. "You're the one with your back against a wall." He ignited his hands.
"Yeah, that's because I didn't want to knock out the building." Hawks spread his wings. "Question, what happens when you blow on a candle?"
White hot flames erupted down the alley. Hawks surged forward, releasing an intense slap of air. The flames swirled. Dabi's footing shifted as air push him. Hawks activated fierce wing again, this time, cutting straight through the flames and landing straight on the pyromancer as he skipped backwards from the wind.
Dabi slammed into the ground.
Hawks buried two blades through his hands, pinning him, and held another to his throat.
"I have a third option for you."
"Oh." Dabi licked blood from his teeth. "Do tell, birdie hero, do tell."
"I want you to blow up a building for me. Think you can manage, villain."
"Who are you?" Dabi started laughing.
"You interested," Hawks bent forward. "Or would you prefer I dismember you…" his calcified wings flared out behind him, chiming like bells. "Millions of tiny little pieces, spread over a paddock, or…I know this pig farmer." He grinned, cocking his head.
"Shite. You've done this before."
Hawks bent closer, pressing his blade deeper. "Aww, baby villain, were you under the hilarious impression that the world was as simple as hero and villain? Don't be so naïve. There are those of us who walk The Line."
"Let me go," Dabi's hands ignited again.
Hawks winced as his feather blades pinning the pyromancer shattered from the intense heat. He remained where he was, despite his costume burning, despite knowing his armour was beginning to blister against his skin.
"Let me go. I'll hear you out." Dabi grinned.
With a strong updraft, Hawks lifted himself off the villain.
Dabi sat up, staring at his bloodied hands. He clasped them together, heating the skin and sealing the bleeding wounds.
"How did you miss every tendon in my hands?"
"I'm very good." Hawks ripped off his ruined pants. His armour was going to need replacing. What a shite outcome. Hopefully it would be worth it. He glanced back at the pyromancer.
He doubted he'd even seen a fraction of what the villain was truly capable of. It almost seemed like he was being lazy with his pyromancy.
"Whoops, sorry for ruining your pretty outfit." Dabi teased. "Guess you're not made for heat."
"No, I'm not. You're my worst enemy type." Hawks grumbled.
"And you just threw yourself at me."
Hawks arched an eyebrow. "Of course."
"You're insane."
"Perhaps. Though, you weren't unleashing your full potential, and neither was I."
"You noticed." Dabi eased onto his feet.
"We're in the city." Hawks glanced around. "More specifically, we're in sector eighteen. You most likely don't want this area damaged, so, you were limited in your range of attacks, and so was I, for the same reason."
"Alright, so, explain to me why a hero—The Hero of Fukuoka—who cares about his city so much, wants to blow up a building."
"I've already set it all up." Hawks snatched a bag from the air as a feather delivered it. He dug around, pulling out a small device. He waved it at Dabi.
"Denotator. Pretty sure you know how to use it, right?"
"I do, birdie hero."
"Good." Hawks flung it at him.
Dabi snatched it. "Still not going to explain why you're blowing it up?"
"Because I don't like the building. It's a shite building."
"Do you blow up all the buildings you don't like."
"Nope. Just this one."
Dabi flipped the detonator up and down. "So, let me get this straight, you're going to let me walk away, if I blow up this building for you."
"That's it." Hawks held out his burnt jacket, sighing at its ruined state. Bubbles would not be pleased. Their agency budget was getting a little thin, and spending money on replacement costumes was just a constant pain, even if Jeanie gave them discounts. Honestly, it was a blessing he was moving up in the heroes ranking, it'd mean a little bit more financing. Maybe he'd finally be able to give Bubbles that pay rise she deserved—and that holiday she needed.
Oh—fuck—
Why was he thinking about these things when standing next to a villain.
Several feathers flicked up, aiming themselves at Dabi as he dared inch a pace closer. "Don't fucking dare." Hawks warned in a low hiss.
"That's some pretty jewellery on your back. Floral do that."
"Go near my back, you arsehole, and I will smash you so hard into the ground, every bone in your body will break." Hawks pinned him with a glare.
"Oh, that's right…" Dabi whistled. "You avian's have a thing about your backs and your wings, don't you. Traditionalist bullcrap. Heh, wow, you actually made me think of my disgusting excuse of a father…"
"Boo hoo." Hawks made a mocking mouth with a hand. "We all have crap dad's here, join the very non-exclusive club, it does not come with any perks."
Dabi snorted in mild amusement. "I get it. I get why you're well liked."
"Thanks."
"I could just kill you. I mean, that is what villains are supposed to do. Kill the hero, steal their bird. She's gotta be real tight thing, right, that bird of yours—" Dabi arched an eyebrow at him and smirked.
Before Dabi could move, Hawks slammed him into the nearest wall with a rip of wind. Hawks gripped him by the throat, ignoring the pain as skin blistered from the intense heat Dabi admitted.
"A simple yes or no will suffice, villain." Hawks hissed. "Otherwise, I will be happy to add you to my list of bodies dumped over the Pacific Ocean."
"Yes."
"Thank you." Hawks released him.
Dabi grabbed at his throat, rubbing it. "Wow. You have no fear."
Hawks glanced back at him. "Actually, it's the opposite." He spread his wings.
"When do I blow up this building of yours?"
"You'll know when."
"I will?"
"At some point in the next few weeks, something is going to accrue…I just don't know what, but I'm pretty positive I'm a target."
"Interesting." Dabi mused. "You think you're going to get hit, you're actually anticipating it."
Hawks tipped his head to one side.
"I could shadow you, make sure you don't get hit," Dabi offered.
"That'd defeat the purpose of drawing out who we're looking for." Hawks shrugged. "And fuck you."
Dabi held up his hands. "I'm just offering to help, it'd be a shame for this nice city to loose it's hero." He flashed a grin. "You do keep the streets so safe and clean...its why I like this city."
"You're a psychopath." Hawks shook his head.
"And you're a hero. We all have our faults, pretty birdie."
Hawks opened his mouth to retort, only to pause as his headset beeped. He raised a hand, tapping the headphone.
"Hello, Hawks here—Izuku? Whoa. Whoa. Calm down, baby birdie, calm down, for fucks sake...okay, okay, listen, I'll call you back in five minutes, can you wait that long? Okay. Stop panicking. Breathe." He tapped the call off, giving an exhausted sigh as he dragged a hand through his hair. "Sheesh."
Dabi thumped back on the alley wall. "Hero work worth it?"
Hawks glanced back at him, and gave a warm smile. "Always." He launched, not bothering the tamper the blow back for the villain's sake.
00000
Bubbles jerked to a halt.
It was her.
Oh gosh—
Oh gosh—
It was really her—
Okay—
Okay—
Bubbles quickly reset her costume and gave her cheeks and hair a quick pat over. She looked fine, right? She didn't look like she'd just spent twelve hours out on patrol, hunting through old warehouses for villain dens, did she?
No, it didn't matter.
This was it. This was the day she was finally going to meet her—
Hawks'—
Er—
The woman Hawks was in a relationship with.
Yeah. Okay—
She'd go with that.
Said woman was struggling up the stairs of the agency with two large gym bags, and looked basically about to cark it.
Without hesitation, Bubbles did a very Hawks thing—which she would never, ever admit too—she vaulted over the walkway railing, and floated down to the level the woman was on, landing beside her.
"Hello…um…"
What was her name again…
Rilo?
"Oh. Bubbles. Hi."
A face that was flushed a soft pink turned towards her in alarm. Electric blue eyes dazzled with an eerie, backlit glow. This was the first time, Bubbles realised, that she was seeing the woman without the red veil and something felt a little off about her.
Her skin was too dull, almost looking like stone, even having marbling patterned effects that seemed like they should have been glittering with an opal shine. Everything about her seemed heavy and weighted, and she did not seem used to it—at all—every movement appeared to take effort, as though she was dragging herself through thick, gluttonous mud.
They were kind of the same height, which made them both on the shorter side. Bubbles knew this, because Hawks' wasn't exactly tall and she didn't even reach his shoulders. Well, it was nice to look someone in the eyes again.
Instant bestie.
"You're…Rilo…right?" Bubbles heaved up the gym bags, ignoring the look of protest from the woman.
"Ah, yes. Um. I guess Hawks' has mentioned me."
"Mentioned, yes. That's about it. Wow, these are heavy, what have you got in them?" The woman should not have been carrying such heavy bags, not in—whatever condition she appeared to be in. Bubbles headed up the stairs.
"Um. Just…stuff for our trip. Is Hawks here?" Rilo picked up the hem of her flowery spring skirt, lifting it around her ankles to take the stairs after her.
"Yep, he's here. He's in the showers. He just wrapped up morning patrol." Bubbles looked back. "You didn't carry these bags all the way here, on your own, did you?"
Rilo nodded. "I did."
"Oh gosh." Bubbles sighed.
"It's fine." Rilo waved away her concern. "Please, don't worry…I get enough of that from Hawks. Um. Could you take me to the showers. I have Hawks' change of clothes in one of the bags."
"Sure. The lodge is this way. Is this your first time to the agency?"
Rilo nodded. "Well, I've nipped in to drop of lunch, but I haven't gone any further than the foyer."
"I'd have kind of expected Hawks to have given you a whole tour." Bubbles turned down one of the open hallways.
"He's been meaning too. Things just keep coming up. Though, I'm a hundred percent sure his whole intention is just to have sex on the lounge in his office, apparently, it's a rather comfortable lounge."
Bubble choked on air.
Oh no—oh no-no-no-no-no…
She was never looking at that lounge in his office the same—ever—ever—again.
"Sorry, was that a little too much information." Rilo smiled innocently, her cheeks tinting soft pink again. "We shouldn't talk. I might blurt out everything…"
Bubbles felt her hair fizzle in sudden glee.
She grinned.
"Nope. This is going to be the start of a wonderful friendship."
Rilo looked up, her chest expanding. "Really?"
"Yep." Bubbles flung out her arms, still holding the gym bags. "I mean, you are dating my boss—"
"Married."
Bubbles halted mid-step.
And she just died.
Again.
It did seem to be happening a lot lately.
Hawks needed to give her a pay rise.
She deserved a pay rise.
"I'm sorry…did you just say…married?" That came out in a squeak, it wasn't supposed to, but it did. Her cheeks brightened horribly at the fact that she did squeak, but there was no way to retract it now.
"Yeah…I guess he didn't mention that bit." Rilo shuffled on her feet.
"No." Bubbles squeaked again. "No, he did not."
"Sorry." Rilo bit her bottom lip.
Whoops. Had that sounded like she was some disapproving mother? She totally didn't mean it to sound like that. This was terrible. She was making a mess of this. It wasn't like she had any control over what Hawks choose to do. Really—she wouldn't even have said that they were actually—well—friends—
She didn't really know him, not really—not like—not like that.
Bubbles quickly back tracked. "Um. No. No. Please. It's fine. I…ah…I guess it's just a bit of a surprise, that's all." There was no reason to over-react in front of Hawks'—
Oh gosh—
His wife—
How had this happened. She was supposed to know everything.
She thought he had been joking!
He was supposed to have been joking!
Bubbles breathed in deeply.
Right, she hadn't signed up to work at the Hawks' agency because it was easy. This was all just part and parcel of the job. Yep. All part of the job. This was fine. The building could be on fire all around her, and somehow, she'd still be fine, she'd figure it out. She was Bubbles, dependable, reliable, perfectly capable Bubbles.
Yeah, nope, she was totally freaking out inside.
Why hadn't he told her?
Gah.
"Oh, this way." Bubbles pointed down a hall and Rilo quickly followed her.
"I see Hawks' minimalist style influences even the agency," Rilo commented.
"Oh, my gosh…" Bubbles dramatically folded backwards, swinging around. "How do you put up with it. I try so hard to add just a little bit of bling to the place and he acts like I've committed a crime against humanity."
Rilo giggled.
"I'm serious." Bubbles scoffed. "Once I tried to convince him to put a piece of artwork up in the foyer, and he asked me how much I wanted cut from my salary to pay for the art."
Now the woman beside her was genuinely laughing a bright, delighted laugh. "I have a solution for you." Rilo offered with a smile. "One of the hospitals Hawks visits, there is a whole bunch of children that he likes to sit with, he plays games with them sometimes too, if they're well enough. He talks about them in the evenings with me."
Oh wow—Bubbles slowed her walk, struck by the sudden notion that Hawks had evenings outside of work, and he spent them with the little glowing woman strolling along beside her. They must have talked, about so many things—all the time—
"So, if you want a piece of artwork, what you should do is have the children at the hospital make one up. Hawks puts a great deal of value on people, and especially the creations of people dear to him." She was fiddling with a pendant around her neck. "That's why he prefers Jeanies fashion label, he wears jewellery made by a friend, and he'd hang up artwork done by children he cares for. Does that make sense? He's very community and people focused. If you took that angle, you'd find he'd open up about the agency. He'd love a coffee shop out the front, to bring people in to talk too—he loves talking to people."
"I always thought it was an inconvenience for him, how people bother him."
"Oh, gosh no, Hawks thrives off talking to people. Sure, he gets irritated at the invasion of his personal wing-space, but everyone has something they have to deal with on a job. Hawks is a people-person, and he really needs to let that all out at work, so when he comes home, he can feel comfortable enough to sit and enjoy his reading. He likes his reading, but he can't read if he hasn't worn himself out by talking."
Bubbles breathed out. "I've worked for him for years and I had no idea."
Rilo squeezed her shoulders together. "You'd have figured it out eventually."
No—she doubted she would have. For some reason, she'd built an image up of Hawks' stubbornness in her mind, and that's what had stuck. She'd become so annoyed at his lack of wanting to improve on the agency's appearance, she'd never once stopped to consider his point of view.
A coffee shop?
Why had she never considered that idea? The agency was always so empty, when Hawks was always so vibrant and active. She'd thought paintings and art might fix the feeling of the void—
But she'd missed the whole point entirely.
Hawks' was, indeed, wholly committed to community. She'd known that—so why—why hadn't she tried to implement any of that into how their agency functioned.
"I feel like a terrible personal assistant…" Bubbles whispered.
"Oh, no, no, Bubbles!" Rilo's hand suddenly grabbed her arm. "You're amazing! He thinks the world of you."
"He does?"
"Oh gosh yes."
"Really?"
Rilo rolled her eyes. "I shouldn't say anything."
"Please, go on. Tell me how amazing my boss thinks I am." Bubbles grinned.
"Showers?" Rilo asked.
"Oh, right, yes, just up here." Bubbles motioned to a set of doors. "He'll be in…ah…that one, the main shower."
Rilo took one the bags from her and walked right up to the door, banging on it.
"Hawks! I have your clothes! Hawks!"
The door opened, admitting out a gust of steam. Hawks' head appeared as he swung on the door. "Hey, gorgeous."
Water dripped off his wet hair onto the tiled floor.
Rilo's brow furrowed as she reached out for his cheek. Her chest seemed to inflate in a sharp breath. "What happened? Why are you…what is all this?" Tears gathered around her lashes.
Bubbles couldn't see what Rilo saw, but she did know he'd encountered a villain earlier that morning. He'd said everything had been fine over the radio, so she'd presumed he'd been telling her the truth.
Apparently, he hadn't been.
Great.
Now she felt doubly awful.
"Just had a run in with a fire-type." Hawks raised a linin wrapped hand to brush at Rilo's cheeks.
Rilo held his hand, cradling it. "You're so burnt. Oh…Hawks…"
"Babe, it's fine."
"How is this fine?" She dragged a hand through her silver hair, scrunching it up.
"Okay. Honey, you're winding yourself up. You can't do that, not at the moment, your body can't handle it, not while I can't syphon away your excess energy. You need to calm down."
She took several deep breaths.
"That's better." He held her cheeks. "There you go."
"I thought your costume was supposed to protect you." Rilo chewed her bottom lip.
"Not fire this hot, babe. Even my armour got fucked."
Rilo sagged against him.
Bubbles shifted awkwardly. Hawks glanced at her with a smile. "Could you do me a favour and keep her company."
"Of course, sir." Bubbles quickly agreed.
"Thanks." He pressed a kiss to Rilo's forehead and gently eased her back. "Stay with Bubbles. I'll be out in a tick. Maybe take a rest in the lounge. We stock your favourite raspberry drink." He ducked back into the showers, clipping shut the door.
Rilo sagged, covering her face.
"He's looks bad, does he?" Bubbles asked.
Rubbing at her watery eyes, Rilo breathed in deeply. "It's fine. I'm just…ah…very emotional at the moment. Everything seems a lot more terrible than it actually is. I just want to cry all the time."
Bubbles gasped. "You're not pregnant, are you?"
Rilo glanced back at the shower door. "No. We're postponing that for a bit, at least, until I'm well again." She gave a sad smile.
She wasn't well—
That explained why she looked so fragile, as though, at any moment, her legs were going to give out and she was going to shatter into a million little pieces as though she really was the walking stone statue she appeared to be.
Bubbles clutched a hand to her chest.
Okay. Right. What had Hawks been hiding, and for how long?
"Then…perhaps you should sit down for a bit. Come on, the lounge is this way. I gather you're the reason why we started stocking raspberry cola."
Rilo giggled. "Yeah, that'd be my fault."
Bubbles lead her slowly in the direction of the lounge and attached kitchenette area, centred right in the middle of the lodge on the fifth floor of the agency. It was open to the wider agency, looking down into the foyer below, and above them was a direct view to a hanging net that was draped across the glass ceiling.
Rilo stared up at the net, confusion evident on her features.
"It's an avian thing," Bubbles offered. "Hawks and Canary like to lie in it at night, if they're on night duty together, and just look up at the sky. Personally, I don't get it, but, I'm a water aviator, not an avian aviator."
"Oh, right…" Rilo nodded. "There is a difference."
"Yep." Bubbles opened the small fridge. "I much prefer the open ocean. Hawks jokes that I'm a flying fish…sometimes, I wonder if he's right."
Rilo eased herself down on a couch, tucking herself up gracefully. Bubbles handed over a raspberry cola can and Rilo smiled in thanks.
"So, how did you and Hawks meet?" Bubbles sat back on the main table in the lounge.
Rilo halted with the raspberry cola half raised to her lips.
"Oh…um…ah…well…" Anxious eyes flicked up at her. "Maybe you should ask Hawks that question. I'm not…entirely…clear on the details I'm allowed to give, yet."
"Er. Okay." Well, that wasn't weird in the slightest.
"Can you tell me how long you've been married?"
"Two years." Rilo quickly snapped out. "Yes…yes, two years."
Bubbles choked on her own mouthful of cola. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Two years."
"That's impossible. I'd have known."
"Hawks very good at keeping his life private." Rilo's expression grew serious. "He met me on a trip he took to America."
"Oh my gosh." Bubbles whispered. "That trip."
International trips were rare. Their world had become quite consolidated since the introduction of quirks. Heroes, however, were often the ones who did travel internationally. Two years ago, Hawks had gone to America for a conference—
She'd been the one who was supposed to attend it, it'd been all about agencies, and the concept of hero agencies—
However—
She didn't know English.
So Hawks had gone in her place and she'd been so disappointed.
"Yes, that trip." Rilo played with the rim of her cola. "That's all I can say."
"Okay. Okay." Bubbles quickly reigned in her curiosity. "I'm sorry for being intrusive. It's just…it's so hard to wrap my head around Hawks having a life outside of the agency, you know, when…when all I've known him as is, well, just his hero persona."
Bubbles awkwardly laughed. "I mean…I have to presume he doesn't run around wearing his costume all the time with you."
Rilo giggled. "Oh gosh no. Most of the time he wears these hideous track pants that hit just around his hips, looking like they're about to slide right off his arse. He's always like, 'well, I have to wear a utility belt all day, so, I can wear whatever I want at home'." Rilo puffed out her chest, trying to mimic Hawks' voice.
Bubbles burst out in a laugh, dipping her head between her knees.
"I do not sound like that at all. Rilo, that was the worst impression of me, ever."
Bubbles jerked up, spotting Hawks standing the in entrance of the longue, looking between them both with his hands on his hips in mock insult.
Rilo bounced up to him. "The only thing missing was all the swearing. I censored it."
"Cheek." Hawks held her hand. "You look lovely, babe." He fluffed out her cherry blossom themed skirt.
"Thanks." Rilo gave a twirl. "Jeanie sends me suggestions…at first…I thought he was worried I would be an embarrassment to you in public, but, then I realised it was just his way of showing he cared. He communicates through fashion."
Hawks nodded. "I'm glad you picked up on that. He means no offense." He brushed at her cheeks. "And I truly do look forward to the day when you can embarrass me in public with your glow."
He captured her mouth, pulling her into his arms.
Bubbles slumped back, blinking.
Um.
What the heck.
Not only was Hawks wearing civilian clothes, but—but—but—he was—making out with someone right in front of her—
This was the height of indecency.
And she was going to let him know. She sucked in a sharp breath.
Rilo suddenly burst into laughter, pulling away from Hawks and burying her head in her hands.
Hawks cracked it with his own laugh. "Oh come on, babe. We were doing so well. Bubbles was about to give me an actual lecture on proper workplace etiquette and everything."
Hawks tipped his head towards her, smiling a pure, genuine smile. "Would have been a great lecture, I'm sure."
Bubbles puffed out her cheeks. "Wait…you did that on purpose."
"Yes. Yes I did, Bubbles. It's called revenge."
"Revenge? For what!"
"Because a few months ago, I didn't get to screw a lightbulb, and I left her very unsatisfied. Not a good thing, Bubbles. Not a good thing."
Rilo's shoulders shook from a giggling fit.
Bubbles frowned. "Wait, is this…is this still about the Mt. Lady fiasco?" She flung out her arms. "Oh my gosh! That was ages ago."
"What can I say, I was annoyed."
"Well excuse me for being the best personal assistant in all of Japan." Bubbles grumbled, sinking lower in her chair.
Hawks was still gently—oh so gently—rocking Rilo back and forth, his arms twisted around her comfortably as he shifted from side to side. "Bubbles here is under the impression that, because I'm soon to be in the top ten, she is now the best personal assistant in Japan."
Bubbles pouted.
"Naturally, Bubbles is correct." Rilo smiled at her.
"Thank you." Bubbles lifted her chin.
Hawks chuckled, easing away from Rilo. "See, now you two can game up on me together. Super fun."
"On that note, Hawks. Why am I only just now meeting your wife? She said you've been together for two years, and that you met in America."
Hawks halted by the coffee machine, tipping back around to grin at Rilo. "You gave her the America trip story?" He looked positively delighted as he bounced back to Rilo, grabbing her hands and holding them to his lips. "Oh, babe, wow…I am so proud."
Rilo ducked her head shily. "I tried hard to do what you said, to make the person guide themselves to their own conclusion of the truth."
"Well done." Hawks kissed her forehead. "You're doing great. See, I knew you could do it."
Bubbles slumped back in disbelief. "Oh my gosh, you're lying. You're both lying."
Hawks dipped his head around, his golden eyes refocusing on her, and she had no idea who he was in that moment. Her boss, a hero, or a man she had never met. "Yes, Bubbles. It was a lie. I did not meet her in America. We're practicing on you. Did you believe it, though?"
"Yes," Bubbles whispered. "Yes, I did."
"Good." Hawks cranked on the coffee machine. "If you—someone I've known and worked with for quite a while—would believe it, then, we're on the right track."
"I don't understand." Bubbles stood, hands slapping to her hips. "Why lie? It's a horrible thing to do!"
Hawks didn't turn to face her, despite her indignation, he simply continued to make himself a coffee. "Hawks, what is going on?"
"Do you trust me, Bubbles," he asked.
Her boss—yes—the hero—yes—this man she did not know—did she trust him—
"Yes, of course," Bubbles managed the words.
"Then, please, wait until Monday."
Monday—
Bubbles frowned. Today was Friday. Some months ago, Hawks had begun travelling to Musutafu on Friday afternoons and spent the weekends there, returning for patrol Monday mornings. Slowly Bubbles looked to Rilo, who had returned to her seat on the couch. She was plucking at her skirt nervously with twitching fingers.
"I need a promise, Hawks, that you will tell me what's going on."
"I promise." He looked around at her, his golden eyes solid, affirming—trusting.
"Okay." Bubbles breathed in deeply. "Okay."
"Thank you." He sipped his coffee, leaning back on the counter, shifting his attention to Rilo. "We'll leave right after my coffee. It's going to be a bit of a faster run than usual, which, isn't ideal for you…"
"You strapped me up pretty tight this morning, Hawks." Rilo motioned to herself. "I couldn't get the linin off to even plug myself in to the powerplant."
"Ah, my plan was a success. Good."
"What if the city—"
"Fuck the city, Rilo."
She flopped onto the couch, covering her face.
"You don't plug yourself into something that is murdering you, babe. We're stopping that. This is my foot, I'm putting it down."
"But what if there is a blackout."
"And what if the sun exploded tomorrow." He sarcastically drawled out.
Rilo groaned. "You are such a jackarse."
"No, see, if I was an actual jackarse, I would not be flying to Musutafu to fill in for Mum at this…teacher-parent interview thing..."
Rilo eased herself up. "Poor Izuku…"
Hawks heaved a sigh. "It's just shite timing. Everything happening all at once. Izuku was having a panic attack about it on the phone." Hawks nursed his head. "It's like all the training I've been doing with him just…flew out the window."
Rilo shook her head. "Hero work and his school stuff are two totally different things."
"You can apply the techniques to all matters of life."
"He's thirteen, Hawks." Rilo insisted.
"So?" Hawks deadpanned. "Your point."
Rilo pouted. "You're a brick wall."
"Hm, explains why you love climbing me."
Bubbles spluttered out her cola. She slapped her chest, gasping painfully for air. The looks she received weren't ones of sympathy, but of amusement.
"Sorry Bubbles, was that one a bit too much for your sensitive all-girls hero schooling." Hawks grinned behind his coffee mug. "For the record, it was pretty tame."
"It was very tame," Rilo muttered.
"Wait, no, you're telling me he's even worse around you?" Bubbles gasped.
"Oh, no, no." Hawks waved a hand around. "I am so not standing for this. Rilo may look innocent and sweet, but she is not. That woman, right there, stole a feather on our first date, and has tortured me with it ever since."
"It is true." Rilo shamefully looked away in a complete innocent act. "I am a terrible influence on him. I have ruined him."
Hawks started laughing. "Utterly ruined."
"Totally ruined." Rilo flicked back her eyes. "I am so, so sorry." She squeaked. "We should never have done it. I could have ended your career."
"What are you two talking about?" Bubbles looked between them both. She hadn't been following their conversation for some time, but this sounded extremely concerning. Though, now she had no idea if she could take anything either of them said seriously or not. They both seemed to be having far to much fun smirking at each other.
"Nothing." Hawks shook his head, his cheeks showing just the faintest tint of colour. "Nothing, Bubbles."
"It sounds like something."
Rilo squeaked again, covering her face.
"Rilo, stop it, you're digging the hole even deeper." Hawks laughed. He set his mug aside. "Come on, let's get going. Did you bring the harness?"
"Of course." Rilo made to stand, and she faltered.
Bubbles didn't catch it, but Hawks did. He'd caught her before Bubbles had even realised there was an issue, and now she was catching up with the scene. Rilo was coughing into her hands, blood leaking onto her pretty skirt through the cracks between her fingers. The look on Hawks' face was not one she'd ever seen.
It was just—
Defeat—no—not defeat—there was still that bright glint of defiance that always shone in his eyes—but as he gently soothed the sobbing woman in his arms, a hollowness of acceptance seemed to weigh on him.
Oh no—
Bubbles breathed in sharply.
Oh no—
No—
Tears unwilling gathered. She quickly brushed them aside, tightening her emotions just as she had been taught at hero school. Right. Her boss needed her. She headed for the towel rack, pulling off several wads of paper and kneeling beside them both.
"Should I call back Med?"
Hawks shook his head. "There isn't anything to do. We just ride it out."
Rilo regained her breathing, no longer rasping out globs of blood. She sobbed into Hawks' shoulder, and that, perhaps, was worse than the coughing and the blood. Bubbles knelt beside them, feeling wholly inadequate, and completely incapable of fixing a problem—whatever the problem was.
Some part of her was angry, angry Hawks had kept this from her—
Angry he'd lied—
But it was only small.
Most of her was sad, looking at them and the despair they painted as they sat curled around each other on the floor of the lounge.
Hawks—
Whom she'd seen lift concrete beams, split cars apart, and rip through buildings like they were paper, had never looked so weak before.
No—
Weak—
Weak was wrong—
Bubbles swallowed nervously.
This might have been the strongest she'd ever seen him.
How foolish of her, to think sharing in someone's pain was weak.
She was a sidekick, and she didn't even have the respect to know that much.
"I've ruined my pretty skirt." Rilo poked at the stained fabric of her skirt.
Hawks kissed her bloodied lips gently. "Don't worry, it's just clothes. You can change."
She struggled to stand. Hawks lifted her onto her trembling feet.
"You're right." Rilo wiped at her cheeks before slapping them several times, as if trying to recover some of her gusto. "I'll go change. It's fine. Everything is fine. I'm okay."
"You sure, I can come help if you're feeling unsteady."
Hawks almost appeared nervous to let her go. Bubbles was tempted to offer her own assistance, just from his reaction alone.
"No, no. It's okay. I'll just pull on some jeans. I got…I got these nice ones, with these…cute…flowers…Jeanie sent them over the other day. I…I think he was…trying to cheer me up…" Rilo dug around in one of their gym bags, yanking out a pair.
"Put on a jacket, too. You're freezing." Hawks yanked free a large jacket, dropping it over her head. "Oh, whoops, how did that happen? Your favourite of my jackets…it just seems to follow you around. What a weird coincidence."
Bubbles heard a soft giggle from beneath the large jacket. "Hawks, I didn't pack it."
"Well, I did. Go, put it on. Go, go." He slapped her gently, sending her out of the lounge. "Use that room over there, no, not that one, that one."
Bubbles watched as Rilo ducked into one of the lodge's rooms. Hawks' wings dropped around his ankles immediately upon her vanishing and he covered his face in raw despair. Feathers whizzed around her, collecting the bloodied paper towels, cleaning the area in a mad dash.
"Hawks…" Bubbles dared to step up to him. "Hawks…how…how bad is this?" she asked softly.
Hawks dropped back against the kitchenette counter, his shoulders sagging. "She's got two months, maybe, three at the most."
Wait—
He was saying that like—
Like—
"You mean until…she dies."
"Yeah." He nodded. "Yeah, Bubbles, she's got a fucked-up mod installed, the likes that your pure soul wouldn't be able to even comprehend the existence of, because…I assure you…my fucked-up soul took a while to grasp it."
Her stomach dropped.
Something truly terrifying to her reflected in his eyes as he glanced at her.
Tears—
Bubbles covered her mouth, holding down the swell of nausea.
How could this be happening? Right now—when their agency was finally moving up in the world. He'd reached the number ten ranks. They were heading to the Heroes Ranking Convention next weekend.
So why—
Why was so much good tinted with this awfulness.
Had they been fighting it alone?
He dipped his head towards her. "To be honest, that timeline is our saving grace. She hasn't been collected yet, because the mod installers think she's still got another year or so to go before she's maxed out. Unfortunately, meeting me sped up the decay of the mod. Our quirks are desperately fighting to reach a reciprocal flow when we're in physical contact and the mod is preventing that." He rubbed his hands together, as if trying to prove a point. "These two things can't keep colliding together. It's breaking her body...and frankly, it's starting to break mine too."
He covered his face, giving an exhausted sigh. "This is apparently why quirk compatibility isn't practiced. You can't take it back, Bubbles. You can't…undo it. And you know, it would be fine…everything would be fucking fine, if we were just normal fucking people."
"Okay. Okay." Bubbles breathed in deeply. "What do you need?"
"Hopefully, if everything goes well this weekend, I'll have a more solid foundation to work from. So, on Monday, I'd like to call an agency meeting and present to you all a script."
Bubbles nodded slowly, only to pause. "Wait…a script?"
"Yes." He eased off the counter. "A script, for a very spectacular play that we shall present to the adoring public."
"What are you planning, Hawks?" Bubbles rubbed her sweaty hands anxiously.
He bounced on his toes. "One thing I can assure you, is that your father is going to love it. He'll want to have the tele on next weekend, that's for sure." Hawks smiled his brilliant hero smile.
Her father—
Her father, who loved her coming home to tell him stories of heroes while he lay, paralysed on his bed. Now she was very intrigued.
"Monday then," she reassured.
She'd find out everything on Monday. He'd promised, and she trusted him.
He nodded.
"Monday."
Authors Note:
So, last week, in dividing up chapters I'd already written - I accidently deleted a large chunk of the next arc.
Not the stupidest thing I've done, I have deleted an entire novel before. Me - technology - bad.
Anyway, if updates get a little spraotic, it's because I'm basically having to rewrite a lot of stuff I'd already mostly written.
However, I like to see it as a positive, maybe I can write it better!