Chapter Twenty-Two: New Friends
Keigo swooped, landing in an area of the school yard that wasn't occupied by students and parents. His immediate appearance caused a ripple effect through the yard as all eyes seemed to gravitate in their direction. Even in civilian clothes, his arrival alone would have made it obvious who he was, considering only aviation heroes were permitted to fly in city limits. Which continued to seem wholly unfair. He could think of so many jobs that anyone with an aviator quirk could do, just in simple delivery jobs alone they'd dominate.
But—no—no—
Still with the old scooters, bikes, and cars.
He flicked his wings, shaking out the ache from not just the long and faster than usual flight, but his morning confrontation with Dabi.
He was lucky Medusa had already started his afternoon patrol when he'd arrived back at the agency. If his medi-hero had taken one look at the condition he was in, he'd have been banned from flying for at least a day or two.
Oh—he was going to get so chewed out for this. He was just going to have to make do with having Rilo tend to the burns, while managing her current emotional state—and his own. He could do that—yeah—he could.
It was fine.
It was all fine.
Hidden beneath his wing, Rilo was quickly pulling out her veil from one of their bags and flipping it on. He reached out, aiding her in correctly setting it on her head.
"Do I look okay?" she asked.
"You look like a cute little jellyfish." He fluffed out the veil around her playfully. "But, as much as I do love cute little jellyfish version of you, I am greatly looking forward to being able to have you on my arm—as yourself." He tipped to them both to the side playfully.
She smiled beneath the veil. "I love you."
He clasped her cheeks through the veil. "My Lightbulb—"
"Hawks!" Keigo steadied himself as Izuku collided with them. "You're here!"
"Well, baby bird, you called." Keigo lifted a wing to reveal the teary teen.
The kiddo had called in an utter panic, sounding like the entire world was coming to an end. Whatever these parent-teacher interviews were, they sounded rather important, and Keigo was a little bemused that Yagi and Inko had decided on this weekend to elope. Sure, it was the only weekend they could have chosen, but poor Izuku didn't know that at right this very moment.
"Thank you. Thank you so much!" Izuku hadn't released him. "Mum and…and…Dad…um…they left for the weekend, and told me to not worry, because, of course, you'd be down as usual for the weekend, but then I totally forgot to tell Mum about the parent-teacher interviews!"
Ah—
That explained that then. Poor Inko.
Hang on—
Back up—
Since when did Izuku forget anything.
Keigo arched an eyebrow.
"Did you forget, or did you purposely not tell her." Keigo cocked his head. "Because, Izuku, as we've discussed…your brain is better than that."
Izuku's expression dropped immediately.
"Fine. I didn't tell her." He stepped back, his demeanour shifting gears, less teary and innocent and far more defiant. "I found out about their plans to go away this weekend, and I didn't want to ruin them. I want Mum to be happy."
"Then for goodness sake, Izuku, can you pre-warn me ahead of time." Keigo snapped, perhaps a little harsher than he intended, since Rilo flinched beside him.
"I'm sorry, okay." Izuku flung out his hands. "I don't like these school things. It's embarrassing, and I'd just…I'd rather not deal with any of it."
"I'm gathering that's what triggered your anxiety on the phone."
"Um. Yeah." Izuku shuffled.
Keigo clicked his tongue. "Alright. We're going to work on this communication gap, because it cannot happen, but I'm glad we're figuring it out over stupid shite like your schooling and not…I donno…death things."
Izuku's head dipped low. "Thank you for coming, Hawks."
"I know, Izuku. I know." Keigo pulled him into a hug. "So, you're…ah…going to have to give us some guidance here, cause Rilo and I haven't actually done this school stuff before."
"Um, well, basically, you just visit the teacher with me, listen to them talk about how much of a failure I am, and then we're done." Izuku glanced down at his shoes.
Keigo rubbed his face. "How much of a failure you are? I'm sorry, I thought we talked about this negative self-talk of yours."
"But…that's what they do, cause I'm quirk-less." Izuku hobbled about, pulling out a sheet of paper. "This is the timetable."
Rilo lent against Keigo, peering down at the timetable through her veil. "Ohh, wow, a timetable, this all so official."
"Currently tossing up if getting tortured was better than dealing with this nonsense." Hawks muttered under his breath. Rilo squeezed his arm and he smiled at her. "I'm fine, just tired."
And in pain. He was in pain.
He should have stabbed Dabi a few more times.
The fucking arsehole had dared mention he'd go near Rilo.
Shite.
What had he expected, playing with a pyromancer—
Of course he'd end up burnt.
Rilo's hand was beneath his jacket, gently brushing between his wings. He wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her against him. "Alright, Izuku, lead on."
Izuku spun on his heals and bounced towards the school entrance.
0000
Keigo flicked through the exam sheets.
In front of him, a very put out teacher sat at their desk, wearing a pinched expression of annoyance. From the moment Keigo had stepped into the classroom, he'd figured out several things. Izuku sat at the very back of the class, and his desk was vandalized, quite ruthlessly. None of the other desks showed any signs of damage—just Izuku's. Whomever it was who sat in front of Izuku was tall, their chair was designed around the height their quirk gave them. It was unlikely Izuku could have seen around his fellow student to the smart board at the front of the classroom.
The teacher was awful.
Not Madam level—but—they certainly qualified as a nasty bit of work for someone in authority. It was no wonder Izuku disliked this entire environment if he had to put up with Mr. Pinched-Face all day.
Most of his time growing up in the Commission, he'd spent around the quirk-less, and listened to their vitriol and hatred. He hadn't just listened to it; he'd felt it in every tear and rip of his wings from his back—over—and—over—
When sent to the sensory deprivation chamber, as punishment for fucking up something, he'd spent the time first battling with internal rage and hatred at his handlers, then gradually having it dissolve into bitter acceptance that the world was broken, and to survive within such a broken world, he would need to toe the line.
Therefore, meeting quirk-less folk in the communities of Fukuoka who carried anger and bitterness had never been all that surprising to him. Even dealing with it in the police force hadn't alarmed him, not even Osamu spitting on him was really all that confronting. It was all rather dull, when he could stand in front of Madam President, fully aware that if he wasn't worth something to her, she'd have delighted in seeing him plucked for her sadistic pleasure.
But he had pondered how—and where—all that hatred came from.
It hadn't just emerged out of thin air.
Generations of humans—quirk-less or meta-human—didn't just end up with such a stark divide, for so long, without a stick being poked into that fire to stoke it up.
He got it now—
He understood—
He was staring right at it.
He was sitting in it.
This classroom, this teacher, and the way Izuku was being treated.
If Osamu and Tsubame had been treated anything like this—
He flicked his gaze at Izuku's vandalised desk. Seriously. That was disgraceful. It was no wonder Izuku was unwilling to mention any of this to Inko.
Leaning back in the chair he was casually slumped in, Keigo flipped the exam sheets down.
"I don't see the problem."
Actually. He saw a lot of problems, the one in front of him being the teacher had failed Izuku for getting every answer on the mathematics exam correct.
The teacher sent a disproving frown in Izuku's direction, and Izuku seemed to just shrink. "Midoriya clearly cheated. It is impossible that he answered every question correctly."
"How is it impossible. He's perfectly capable of completing an exam at this level." Keigo stood, heading for the smart board. He took up a marker and began scrawling out several complicated formulations.
"Izuku…" Keigo held out the marker. "Figure these out for me, and write out your steps so the teacher can see you're not skipping anything."
"Um. Okay." Izuku stood, taking the marker and approaching the equations.
Keigo slumped back in the chair and it creaked under his weight. Beside him Rilo shifted in concern.
Rilo took his hand, focusing her attention on the teacher. "May I inquire, how does Izuku do with the other students?" she asked.
Izuku tensed up, pausing from his work.
The teacher's pinched brow only furrowed deeper. "Midoriya does little by way of gaining the good graces of his fellow classmates."
"I'm sorry. I'm confused." Keigo leant forward. "What should he be doing exactly?"
"One with a condition such as his should be working hard to become a productive member of society, not antagonizing his peers by sprouting nonsense that he'll become a hero someday. Though, now I understand where he got such idealistic hopes from, if his sister married a Pro Hero."
The teacher sighed, nursing his head, as if he was burdened by some incredible weight.
"You do realise it is a terrible thing to put such foolish hope into the boy, he won't ever amount to much. None of them ever do."
"Izuku, put down the marker and go stand outside." Keigo ordered softly.
"Hawks—"
"Rilo, please join him." Keigo motioned to the door.
Rilo carefully stood to her feet. She gave the teacher a small bow before collecting Izuku and urging him out of the classroom. Keigo heard the sliding door clip shut. He stood and eased his hands down on the teacher's desk, leaning forward.
"For a while now, I've been trying to figure out where Izuku's low self-esteem comes from, because his mother certainly never tells him he's worthless. I guess now I know." Keigo folded up the mathematics exam, pocketing it. "If Izuku's peers have an issue with him being quirk-less, that's their problem. If you have an issue with him being quirk-less, that's your problem. It isn't his problem. He isn't responsible for your abysmal behaviour. I finally get why he's never informed his mother about any of these little teacher chats. She'd never have coped knowing how shite you've all been treating him."
Keigo clapped the desk. "If his treatment isn't improved upon within the next school year, I will take action."
"You cannot expect children to accept someone quirk-less."
"No, but I expect the teachers to." Keigo snapped back. He grabbed his coat from the rack on the wall, slinging it over his shoulder as he slapped open the door, peering down at both Rilo and Izuku as they tried to look innocent at their attempt of eavesdropping.
"Okay, let's go." He held out a hand to Rilo.
Izuku scrambled after them. "You won't tell Mum, will you?"
"There will be a discussion, Izuku."
"But—"
"Izuku." Rilo took his hands. "We love you, and we want you to be safe, if Hawks thinks a place isn't good for you, then you should listen to him."
"But Mum—"
"Is the adult in this, baby birdie." Keigo tipped his head to one side. "I know you always feel immense responsibility for literally everyone around you, but sometimes, you need to let us do our adulting thing, okay."
"You guys are barely adults." Izuku grumbled.
"Oh, we are very aware." Rilo dramatically puffed out her veil.
"Extremely aware." Keigo added.
Izuku looked back and forth between them. He narrowed his eyes, his hands slapping to his hips in a very Inko stance. "What did you two do?"
"Nothing." Keigo pulled out the exam papers. "Now, could you explain to me how you got perfect marks, and yet, that arsehole of a teacher failed you? And where do I go to complain about it, because, this goes on your record, and I am not letting that happen—"
"Izuku, you were failed for perfect marks as well?"
Keigo watched as Izuku's face paled at the woman's voice from behind them in the hallway. He eased around, finding himself confronted with a surprisingly youthful appearing woman, with shortly chopped ash-blond hair. She wore nurse scrubs beneath a knitted sweater, looking as though she'd just clocked off a shift.
Slouched beside her was a smaller, albeit male, version of herself—wearing the same school uniform as Izuku, though not at all in the primmed and proper state that Izuku tended to wear his in.
"Oh, um…hello…um…Mrs. Bakugo." Izuku managed an extremely timid wave. "And…ah…Kacchan…"
"Oh, this is the Kacchan." Keigo jutted a thumb at the glaring teen. "Your once bestie."
"I have never been friends with the little shite." The blond teen snapped out.
His mother slapped him roughly over the head. "Excuse you! Apologise, immediately."
"No."
"Katsuki!"
"It's fine, Mrs. Bakugo, really." Izuku waved his hands around quickly. "That's just how Kacchan is."
"Stop calling me that, Deku."
"Oh. Um…well…" Izuku slipped slowly beneath one of Keigo's wings.
Well—
Keigo raised his brow curiously. These two obviously got along super-fantastically well for being the smartest little brats in their school year.
"I'm sorry, I don't believe I've seen either of you around before, I'm Mitsuki Bakugo." The woman kept her hand firmly on the shoulder of her son, but her gaze flipped between them both, then down at Izuku hiding beneath his wing.
"Obviously I know who you are." She flashed at smile at Keigo. "But I had no idea you knew the Midoriya's."
This was it, he supposed. Months of playing pretend. Would it work? Would they make it so believable that they'd bedazzle even those who'd known them the longest? It wasn't so much a matter of could—
They had to—
Assimilation had to be perfect.
He tipped his head to Rilo, catching her encouraging smile beneath her veil. He squeezed her hand. "Sorry, rude of us not to do introductions." He placed a hand on his chest, throwing on his warmest smile. "Hello, I'm Hawks, Wing Hero extraordinaire, this is my beautiful wife, Rilo…" he motioned to Rilo. "And we know Izuku because he is Rilo's little brother."
He nudged Izuku and the teen popped his head out from beneath the wing he was hiding in. "Yep!" Izuku beamed.
"You have a sister?" Katsuki stood up straighter, glare narrowing. "Since when have you had a sister?"
"Since I was born." Izuku deadpanned back. "That's how it works, Kacchan."
"Then how come I've never met her, idiot!"
Rilo eased a hand down on Izuku's head before he could retort anything rude, which Keigo was sure was incoming, with just how worked up he was getting. While Izuku had managed to break through some of his timidness, his natural personality was still very honest, and very raw in all his emotions—frankly, Keigo would have called him soft. It wasn't a negative thing, that softness. People would so naturally be drawn to it in the future, he was sure of it, but even the softest person tended to have that irritating someone who riled them up.
He was pretty sure they were meeting Izuku's special someone, right now.
"I didn't live with Izuku and Mum. I lived with Dad, he was a bit of a world-traveller, and that's how I met Hawks." Rilo bumped him playfully and he grinned charmingly, right on cue. "Dad's come home now, since Hawks and I are thinking of starting a family, and Izuku is looking to get into U.A. So, it's all been a bit of an adjustment for Izuku."
Keigo smiled inwardly. Oh—she'd nailed that, putting the right inflections in her tone on just the right words to make the entire story sound like it had more to it, like she was remembering happy things, and momentary events in between pauses of her words.
"I'm fine." Izuku huffed. "Don't know why everyone thinks I'm not coping."
"We're just making sure." Rilo squeezed his cheeks fondly. "Cause we love so much."
Izuku spontaneously hugged her. "I love you too."
Katsuki started fake gagging, only to be clapped over the back of the head once more by his mother.
"I've learnt you just let the Midoriya's do there little emotional things. The world is more peaceful that way," Keigo quipped. "Way less tears. You get over how awkward it is eventually."
Katsuki rolled his eyes. "It's lame."
"No less lame then how you're acting." Mitsuki scoffed at her son. "Good grief, no wonder that teacher loathes you."
"Oh, yours as well." Keigo's feathers ruffled. "How curious." He looked down at Izuku.
"Is Inko with you?" Mitsuki asked. "She's been rather hard get a hold of lately. I have been trying to catch up with her for coffee, and she keeps saying she's busy…though…" Mitsuki gave a small smile. "I guess now I know why, if her husband has finally come back."
Izuku actually had to physically cover his mouth to hold in his laugh. Keigo covered him with a wing, shoving him quickly away before the teen erupted into a hysterical giggling fit.
"No, the parentals are out of town for the weekend." Keigo casually shifted to lean on a wall, taking weight off his aching, burnt legs. "So, we're just filling in. Kinda glad we bothered with it now, I learnt some very fascinating things about this shite school."
"Hawks, please, please don't make a fuss." Izuku peered around a wing. "I don't want to be any weirder than I already am."
Katsuki snorted. "To late."
"Shut up, Kacchan, you are not helping!" Izuku snapped.
"Hey, I'm not the one who ran at a villain while quirk-less and made us both the laughingstock of the whole goddamn school!" Katsuki slammed a foot forward.
Mitsuki grabbed her son by the collar, an action she appeared to be adapt at. "Katsuki…what's been going on?"
"Nothing, Mum." Katsuki glanced away, shoving his hands deeper into the pockets of his school pants.
"Nothing? Like the perfectly good exam paper you handed in and got a fail for?"
"Hey, that's not my fault!" Katsuki protested. "The teacher is a fucking idiot, right Izuku, right? I'm right, heh?"
"Well, yeah…"
"See, Deku agrees!" Katsuki pointed to Izuku. "The teacher is under the false impression that we can't be smarter than him, especially Izuku, because…well…he's…you know…" Katsuki waved at Izuku.
"Quirk-less, or useless, or both." Izuku arched an eyebrow at Katsuki.
"Whatever." Katsuki snorted.
Keigo tapped his foot. "Well…and this does sound odd, I know, but it's good to know the teacher isn't just failing Izuku. I was extremely worried this was all about quirk-discrimination, but, if your son is also running into a similar wall, something else might be going on. It's possible the teacher simply has a bias against smart-arses who want to be heroes. Which, you both appear to be."
"Are you doing anything this evening?" Mitsuki asked. "You'd all be most welcome around for a meal. Perhaps we can discuss further the issues Izuku and Katsuki are facing in their class."
Keigo glanced to Rilo. "Well, we weren't really planning on anything, and to be honest, a homecooked meal sounds extremely appealing after the flight over here."
Mitsuki glanced at his wings. "You're telling me you flew down here from Fukuoka, today?"
"This afternoon, actually." Keigo cracked a grin. "Izuku only called at about lunch time. Because he is a little hellion that make our lives very interesting."
"He also had a run in with a villain..." Rilo worried, tugging on her veil anxiously.
"Oh babe, don't bring that up." Keigo heaved out. He didn't need the reminder of his recklessness, and how much he was paying for it right now.
"You did?" Mitsuki gasped.
"It's fine. I just got a little burnt."
"A little burnt!" Rilo squeaked. "You're not a little burnt! You're extremely burnt! I should be dragging your hero butt to a hospital."
"You're overreacting—"
"I'm a burns nurse." Mitsuki interjected.
Keigo tipped his head towards her, his eyes focusing sharp. "Well, that's a coincidence."
"Oh, not that much of one when you think about it. My quirk is in the secretion category; Glycerin." She held up her hands, revealing their slight oiled glint. "And my husband is also in the same category, only he secretes nitric acid, and he has the unfortunate effect of being unable to control his secretion. Sometimes he'd forget to wear his protective gloves and…he'll almost blow himself up. That's how I met him." Her smile grew gentle in recollection. "In the burns ward. The idiot was one of my first ever patients. The man is a fashion designer, of all things. Honestly." She laughed. "Fire and clothes. Really? Really?" She looked down at her son and he gave the same fond scoff as her. "Anyway, I was immediately in love. He took some convincing, but I wore him down."
Somehow, Keigo had a feeling this woman had been just as much trouble as her son currently was.
"Then, when combined, we created…" she smiled at her son, giving his ash-blond hair a ruffle. "Dynamite."
Katsuki held up his own hands and Keigo watched as small sparks popped and sizzled from the teen's palms. Well—that was a rather powerful quirk, if the smart-arsed brat figured out how to use it properly.
"Hence, being a burns nurse has been rather handy in my household." Mitsuki dusted at her scrubs. "Katsuki is a bit of a klutz."
"What, no I'm not!" The boy protested loudly.
"Yes, you are. Just yesterday you almost took off your nose while brushing your teeth."
"Mum! Shut up!"
Izuku giggled from beneath the protection of a wing.
"Deku! You little shite, shut up!"
"No, you shut up." Izuku snapped back.
"I'll fucking end you."
"I am literally tucked inside the wings of a pro hero." Izuku poked his head out from between feathers. "I dare you to take on Hawks."
Mitsuki grabbed Katsuki's collar again, holding him tight as he reached out to strangle Izuku, who quickly ducked back into the protective feathery cove.
"So, if you're comfortable, I'd be more than happy to take a look." Mitsuki addressed Rilo. "Would that make you feel a little better, deary? It's a compromise."
Rilo shifted nervously beside him.
Oh—fuck—
She was so obvious. Right—so—this must have been what Hizashi meant when saying that sometimes, her worries and concerns wouldn't be cute, they'd just be irritating because he was irritated, and he'd have to live with it.
Keigo sighed.
No, he wasn't comfortable, but yes, he would do it, because it was better than Rilo worrying, and it was so much better than an awful hospital. He hated them so much he actively went to them to cheer kids ups. "It's better than a hospital, so, thank you. With an offer of a meal and medical treatment, how can we refuse." He inclined his head.
"Oh, it's nothing." Mitsuki rifled around in the pockets of her scrubs, finding her mobile. "Here, let me grab your mobile, and I'll text you over the address…" She paused, looking up at him with suddenly wide eyes. "I mean, that's fine, right? I am so sorry, I just went into automatic parent mode."
Keigo felt a tickle of warmth in his toes. This—this was life—and it was nice—
"No, no, it's very refreshing when people forget I'm a pro hero." Keigo tugged out his own mobile. This was something he'd never have done before fate had directed his wings, exchanging his number with a civilian. Sure, he could have used a burner phone, but that was always so inconvenient, and it seemed a little rude.
Much to the chagrin of both Izuku and Katsuki, plans were arranged for the evening, and as they stepped out into the school yard to a cool late afternoon Keigo found himself hesitating on the steps.
Izuku bounced on ahead, yellow bag swinging back and forth as he jumped on old hopscotch squares. He laughed, turning around to repeat the process again.
"Keigo?" Rilo was on the last step, looking up at him through her veil.
He stirred, his wings ruffling up and slowly unfurling. She took the stairs again, taking his hand.
"What's wrong? Are you alright?"
"No. No. I'm fine." He gave a small chuckle. "Sorry. Didn't mean to worry you." He looked up at the grey sky. "Just got caught thinking how different life is."
He gently rubbed her hand.
"How everything feels like it's fucking horrible right now, and yet…" he turned to face her, gripping her cheeks through her veil. "This is who I wanted be, and gods, I wish it could be forever."
She smiled.
0000
Izuku was acting his age.
It was unusual.
Keigo arched an eyebrow at the brat as he flopped along behind them as they walked the distance from the Midoriya apartment to the Bakugo residence, dragging his feet in a display of complete and utter despondent dejection.
"I can't believe you're making me go," Izuku whined, for the eighth time since they'd started walking. "I didn't agree to this. Can't you adults just have dinner."
Keigo paused his walk, drawing Rilo to a halt beside him. "Izuku, that's enough. You've had your pity-party."
"Kaachan hates me."
Keigo tapped Izuku under the chin, forcing him to look up. "Hate is a very strong word. Do not use it lightly. Kaachan dislikes you, for whatever reason, you don't know yet. Do not give him the pleasure of defeating you with that dislike. Be stronger than him." Crouching down Keigo placed a hand on Izuku's shoulder. "When I stand in front of Madam President, I want to kill her. I have to actively stop myself from slicing her into tiny little pieces, because, Izuku, I hate her."
Izuku breathed in deeply.
"Reserve your hatred for those who truly deserve hatred, and even then, use it sparingly. Do not weigh your soul down with such heaviness and bitterness. It does nothing for you."
"Why am I getting lectured, I'm not the one who hates Kaachan." Izuku whispered, toeing the ground with the tip of his shoe.
Keigo ruffled his hair fondly. "All I'm trying to say, Izuku, is to simply check your own emotions before judging someone else on theirs."
Izuku heaved a dramatic sigh. "Okay…"
Keigo stood, though, it took effort and he had to grab a nearby wall as a crutch.
"Hawks…" Rilo worried.
He shook his head at her and she quietened. He slid an arm around her and waved to Izuku. "Come on, baby birdie. Think of this as part of your training. We all have to do uncomfortable things, and be around people we really would rather not be around, yeah."
Izuku nodded. He surged forward. "I can do this."
That—
That was much better.
Sheesh.
This brat.
They came to the gate of the Bakugo residence and Keigo eased it open, letting Rilo and Izuku into the yard. It was a nice house for the area, not that he really understood anything about houses if he was being truly honest with himself. He'd have preferred something up high, with a lot of windows, actually, maybe just all windows. Even the floors—the floors should be windows too.
Was that possible? He'd really have to ask Rilo if that was possible.
Izuku bounced up to the front door and rung the bell, stepping back to wait.
Keigo stared at the entrance, feeling the oddest sense of mirage about the whole situation. A sensation that often came whenever he was involved in a sting operation, or anything undercover.
Only—
This wasn't supposed to be a mirage—
This was supposed to be his real reality.
So why—
Why did feel like he was a foreign object?
Rilo gently squeezed his hand and he smiled in her direction.
"I'm fine," he whispered.
"I know," she replied.
The door opened and Mitsuki waved them inside with a warm greeting.
Keigo stamped out of his heavy combat boots. It was a tight fit in the entrance of the hallway, but he managed to park himself against the door to give the others room around him.
"So, I wasn't entirely sure what to bring…" Rilo held out a small box to Mitsuki. "Hawks and I haven't really been invited anywhere for dinner before, so, um, I brought some tea cakes."
Mitsuki clasped her hands together. "Oh, that's so lovely. Thank you. Here, let me take that." She took the pastry box. "Izuku, Katsuki is upstairs in his room, you remember where that is, don't you?"
Izuku nodded. "Yep."
"Masaru relented and got him that new gaming system thingy, I'm sure he'd love to have someone to play with."
From the pinched look on Izuku's face, that wasn't what he thought at all about the situation, but, with a brave forward motion, the teen thrust himself up the stairs, two at a time.
"Play nicely." Keigo shouted up the stairs after him. "Don't murder each other. Izuku, I will confiscate your knives if you act like a little shite."
"Kacchan starts everything."
"Strike one, Izuku." Hawks called back.
He heard the loud groan of frustration.
Mitsuki laughed. "Well, you three seem to have a good relationship, despite the time you've all spent apart."
"It's all Izuku. He puts the whole world on his shoulders, wants to make everyone happy." Rilo slowly slipped off her veil, finally revealing herself. Keigo took it from her shoulders, hanging it on the rack by the door along with his jacket.
"True." Keigo nodded. "It may become an issue…ah well…figure that hurdle out when it becomes one."
Mitsuki remained standing in front of them, holding the small box of teacakes. Keigo tipped his head to one side.
"Mitsuki?"
She unfroze with a small shake. "I'm so sorry. I'd been curious all afternoon, and suddenly, the veil came off, and…I was not prepared."
Keigo chuckled, looking down at Rilo as she clutched at her pink tinted cheeks in embarrassment. She had none of her neon glow, and her silver hair that had once burned with a vibrancy like the filament of a lightbulb was now flat and lifeless, but—
But he still thought her beautiful.
She'd always be beautiful.
He'd had to bundle her up one of Yagi's enormous coats, which might have been what was throwing Mitsuki, as it did look rather hilarious. She was practically drowning in the huge coat, but it was serving its purpose in keeping her somewhat warm.
Rilo awkwardly flopped out the long arms of the coat.
"Ah, yeah, so…I'm ah…experiencing a bit of a problem with my quirk, and I can't keep warm. I'm sorry. I can't actually take the jacket off. If I do, Hawks kinda has to be permanently glued to me to keep me heated." Rilo heaved a sigh.
"Not that I mind that." He quipped playfully.
"No, no, you wouldn't, would you." Mitsuki grinned at him, familiar delight shining in her eyes.
Ah, she was kindred spirit.
"Okay, come on, sweetie." Mitsuki held out a hand to Rilo. "Let's get you into the living room and sitting right next to the heater with Masaru. Hawks, you head down that hall right there, and the left door, that's my office. I'll be right in to work on your burns."
Keigo inclined his head. "Thank you. Babe, you'll be alright?"
Rilo nodded. "Yep."
He watched her trail after Mitsuki, listening to their small talk about the cute teacakes she'd picked out as he headed down the hallway to the office Mitsuki had indicated. Photographs lined the hallway wall, showcasing a very happy family. A lot of them were seemingly taken around the same time each year, on what must have been a family summer vacation, as young Katsuki aged up in each photo.
Keigo paused at the office door, glancing back at the last photograph.
Was this what a normal household looked like from the inside? He'd only really been inside houses when performing hits, or making well-fare checks—tasks that didn't have this sort of warmth to them.
He was struck with the oddest feeling—
Was his mother—
Was she living in a house like this right now—
Keigo breathed in sharply.
Fuck—
Why would that thought—
He turned into the dark office and began the laborious task of having to remove the knitted jumper he wore. He'd almost gotten it off when he heard Mitsuki at the doorway.
"Oh, you have wing links…"
Hawks shifted his attention towards her, surprised at her tentative halting of respect. He breathed in deeply and flipped the jumper off his shoulders with a wince.
"I do, and it's fine, you're a medical professional, you get the privilege of overriding our ancient avian quirk marriage customs." He sprinkled his hands around in fake confetti. "Congratulations to you."
Mitsuki gave a small laugh at his sarcasm. Stepping into the office she slid shut the door. "Such a privilege. Thank you." She turned on several lights, brightening the office. "I'm just making sure your sweet wife won't come in here and murder me for touching your back."
"I am honestly surprised you know the tradition." He watched as she set down a large suitcase, flipping it open to reveal an enormous assortment of medical supplies.
They apparently had come to the right place—
She looked prepared for any disaster involving explosions and fire, even a limb removal—which—considering both the quirk of her husband and son, was a possibility. He had to wonder if she'd lived her life fearing that someday, one of them would lose a limb to their quirk, or would burn themselves so terribly she wouldn't be able to heal them?
"They do try to put us through some quirk sensitivity training each year, it's always so difficult though, every category has its own cultures, traditions, and then those categories have sub-categories and classes and those break down into even more complex family units sometimes. It is too much to keep track of. Avian aviators though, for the most part, you guys have a rather standard rule."
He flipped out a hand. "Keep away from our wings."
She eased open the lids of several slender containers. "And the adding of wing links means no one but your partner or family can touch your back, that much I was made aware of…though…I honestly thought it was a dying tradition."
Keigo managed a strained smile. "Rilo has her reasons for being a little territorial over my back."
Matsuki held a hand to her chest. "Every year I get Masaru new protective gloves. They don't have to be replaced that often…but…I want him safe, you know. I'm so glad Katsuki can control his secretion…"
Shaking her head, Matsuki turned her attention to the medical equipment she'd laid out. "Okay. So…" She motioned down at the gel-like sheets floating inside of several containers. "This is a synthetic skin that, when applied, will aid in the bodies natural healing abilities. I am still going to have to strap your wounds, especially your hands."
Keigo glanced at his raw hands.
"But, you should get away with very little scarring. However, let's not chase any more pyromancers for a little while, yes? Give your skin some time to heal up before you violently char yourself again. If I apply this treatment too often, the body begins to reject the synthetic skin and necrosis sets in."
His wings rippled at the unpleasant thought. "Thanks for the warning."
She moved up to him, only to hesitate. "Okay. Wow."
Keigo glanced at her curiously as she stood, holding one of the odd sheets of synthetic skin raised and poised, but not really moving.
She gave herself a small shake. "Sorry. That was unprofessional of me…"
Keigo smiled. "It's fine."
Mitsuki shook her head. "Actually being next to your wings is something else. I mean, I have seen promotional photos of you, and seen you on the news but…I'm sorry…I'm babbling…" she started work on his his shoulders.
"No, really, it's fine. I get that a lot." Keigo rubbed his chin. "I don't think media properly captures wingspan, so, I presume that's what overwhelms people."
Mitsuki moved to his right hand. The one he'd used to pin Dabi down. He wouldn't have bothered worrying about it, if he'd been on his own still. He'd tolerated a lot worse by just slapping a few bandages on something and ignoring the pain. Maybe there had only been so long that he could keep up that attitude to life before it caught up with him, maybe it was good thing he was learning that, with how reckless he was—and he doubted that recklessness was something he would manage to change easily.
"How big is your wingspan?"
"Ah, oh, I donno, maybe seven meters." Keigo glanced at the walls of the office. "Bit less at the moment, I lost a few feathers in the fight."
"Yeah, I'd say it's the wingspan." Mitsuki offered. "You're not actually a hawk, are you?"
He laughed. "No, no, I'm not a mutant quirk. Most people do get that one wrong, which is understandable, since I'm still slapped into the avian category. I'm avian appearance, not avian mutation. Which is why I presume I'm the first aviator manifestation in my family."
"Seriously?" Matsuki paused from her work. "Neither of your parents were aviators?"
Keigo shook his head. "My father is a ratite. Still under the same quirk umbrella, but, not capable of flight. I'm pretty sure I'm the first of my family line to have made that jump between the two categories."
"Really…how fascinating." She tapped a finger to her chin. "Goodness, I honestly would have thought an avian aviator of your calibre would have come from a strong quirk line."
"Well, I assume the quirk line is strong. I inherited both my parents' quirks, but the aviator manifestation is my own." He held up three fingers. "Speed from my father, sense from my mother, and flight is mine. Otherwise known as a triple threat."
"Ah, I see." She eased back for a moment. "Yes, that's like my Katsuki. Glyrien from me, nitric acid from his father, and secretion control is his own quirk manifestation." She tapped her knee thoughtfully. "I think they're calling the theory Quirk Singularity, the idea that quirks are gradually getting stronger with each passing generation."
Keigo hummed. "That's interesting. I've honestly observed it happening both ways…"
"Hm. Yes, it is interesting. It makes you curious as to why some couples end up producing stronger quirks."
"I suggest you look into something called quirk compatibility," Hawks forced himself not to move as she spread the synthetic skin carefully over the burns across his legs. His armour had spared him from most of the damage. Gosh—he was grateful he was always diligent in wearing it.
"Quirk compatibility?" Mitsuki shifted back, picking up another sheet of the sheer, shimmering gel knits. He tired not to focus on them, and on how they felt now that they were applied to the burns. It wasn't cold, even though it felt like it should have been cold and wet. It was warm, and uncomfortable, and immediately made everything itch and his wings twitch in annoyance.
"I wouldn't be surprised if it's the reason why you and your husband produced dynamite." Keigo jibbed. "Please don't tell me that is your pet name for your son."
"Oh, it is." Mitsuki grinned. "He's our little stick of dynamite. Always ready to explode at any given moment." She sighed. "He inherited his temperament from me, I'm afraid. Masaru is a pragmatic pacifist. He's such a pacifist, that despite not wanting Katsuki to attend U.A and become a hero, he isn't even objecting because…" Mitsuki sighed, nursing her head. "He's a pacifist…and…I think he had to become one, you know, with a quirk like his. It was either reign it in, or let it out and accidentally kill someone. I just wish Katsuki could understand that."
"It is a hard lesson to learn."
"Hm." She frowned at him. "Yes, it is…apparently…looking at you."
He glanced away. "Yep."
"You really did a number on yourself." Mitsuki strapped his leg. "I can see why your wife is worried. This would usually put someone in a hospital bed. You've obviously got a high tolerance for pain."
"Well, that is something your son is going to have to learn comes with hero work if he decides to pursue it." Keigo sighed. "Tolerating both pain, and the overwhelming tears of those you love."
Mitsuki's slapped her hands on her cargo pants. "I want you to rest tomorrow, you will do that, right? I want you to take the medication I'm giving you, and rest."
"I don't take medication."
"You need to take these." She held the pills up. "Otherwise, my treatment will take longer to take effect, and the synthetic skin might get rejected. We do not want that."
Keigo studied the pills despondently. "Okay. Fair enough."
He might not have a choice—well—he always had a choice he supposed—but he needed to be in a condition to fight. He couldn't waste time lying around for a few days waiting for burns to heal, not if there was a faster option.
"How sick will these make me?" he looked up at her.
She sighed. "Frankly, you're probably not going to notice, because I guarantee, by tomorrow, you're going to be hitting peak backlash from all this. I'd be surprised if you can even move."
"Wonderful." He grumbled.
"So, my recommendation is, find a bed, roll into it, and don't emerge for at least twelve hours, more if possible."
"I really suck at doing that."
"Hm. Somehow I am not at all surprised to hear that from the Wing Hero." She stuffed her medical suitcase away. "Come on, let's at least get a decent meal into you before you crash land."
"Ahah, funny."
She flashed him a peace-sign and a grin.
Having help to redress made the task considerably less daunting, but he still cursed not having come in just trackpants. He'd always curse the unfairness of not being able to live his life in trackpants. As they headed back out into the hallway, they both paused at the stairs, listening for any sign of murder and mayhem from the boys.
"So far, so good." Mitsuki crossed her fingers. "I hope he and Izuku can manage to at least tolerate each other."
"Izuku tends to be able to bend around most people. He'll figure out Katsuki eventually." Keigo offered. "Izuku is persistent."
"Katsuki is lonely." Mitsuki sighed.
"Then, there you go." Keigo smiled. "Perfect match."
"I hope so."
Together they peered into the living room, watching curiously as Rilo and Masaru sat opposite each other, both nursing tea mugs. They seemed to be deeply engaged in a conversation about spring fashion.
"Well, they get along." Hawks arched an eyebrow. "They even drink the poison water."
"Oh, ew. Tea. How do they drink it." Mitsuki rolled her eyes, only to pause. "Wait, you don't like tea."
"No. It's disgusting." Hawks' wings rippled. "I can drink it, I do, but gods, I feel shite afterwards, so, I don't do it often. There are just certain things I'll immediately know I shouldn't costume. So I don't." He shrugged. It really was that simple.
She stared at him. "Medication and tea, how utterly fascinating." She mused. "I wonder if you're allergic to something in tea, usually teas are known to have medicinal properties."
"Oh, I know. Rilo went into an in-depth lecture once, all about how amazing and fantastic and wonderful teas are. She even made me diagrams. I found the entire thing extremely amusing, but it did not convince me to drink it."
Matsuki laughed. "Coffee then?"
"Straight black."
"The only way." Matsuki assured.
000000
Keigo studied his tightly wrapped hands. They tingled. Whatever weird shite Matsuki had applied and then strapped him up in, it felt extremely unpleasant, like pins-and-needles prickling all over his body. He really—really hoped it worked—or the lecture he was going to receive from Medusa would be legendary.
If he could scrape through this without the medi-hero ever knowing about it—
Life would be good—
Very good—
He dropped his head back against the couch behind him.
He shouldn't have been complaining so much in his head. He'd basically received top-notch medical care, for free, just because of his hero status.
That felt wrong.
It always felt wrong.
He sighed. The Bakugo's had been a very pleasant couple, who'd obviously both worked extremely hard to make it to where they currently were.
Which had made him question one thing—
Why was Katsuki, who was clearly extremely brilliant, going to a shite school. The brat could have made it into one of the elite schools and been fast tracked into U.A. That'd have been much easier for him. He'd asked this question on their walk home and Izuku and looked at him with his 'you're an idiot' expression—which the baby birdie was getting pretty good at—and stated, 'because he's been kicked out of every nice school he's ever attended.'
Ah—
Right—
The kid had serious anger issues, but where had they come from? Matsuki was a little rough around the edges, making it obvious she'd grown up in a much harsher environment than her husband, but they both adored their son, despite how much trouble he did seem to cause them.
Matsuki had looked worried during their meal, at his explanation that, at some point, Katsuki's temperament was going to need addressing if he was seeking admission into U.A. Still—Katsuki was young—he had a lot of growing to do.
Keigo paused.
"Why the fuck am I suddenly caring about kids." He dropped his head back, giving a groan. "Goddamn it."
"What are you swearing about now."
He glanced up as Rilo padded back into the living room where they were camped out in. Sure, they could have taken the master bedroom, since Mum and Yagi weren't home—but it felt uncomfortable to do so. Thus, the futon on the living room floor, tucked up beside the couches, was their humble little spot. He rather preferred it. It felt cosy.
She slid the door shut carefully and eased off her slippers.
"Kids that aren't ours." He pouted.
Rilo laughed softly. "Your idealistic future of being a bored hero won't happen without those kids, you know."
"Guess I'm up shite creek." He griped.
"Aren't you in an extra bad mood tonight, Mr. Hero."
He covered his face. "Is Izuku in bed?"
"Yeah." Rilo headed for the kitchen, filling a glass with water.
She crept back to him where he sat, tucked up amongst the blankets.
"Okay." She held out the water.
Keigo looked away.
"Keigo."
"Ah, fuck." He grumbled.
She crouched beside him, placing the water down on the coffee table. "I will never, ever make you take something that will make you feel like you lose control of your body, you know that, right." She held his hand. "It is not my place to ever make you experience that."
"That's the problem though, Rilo. I can't do it myself. I just can't." Keigo looked up at her. He reached out, brushing the tips of his raw fingers over her dulled cheeks. Her glint was gone, and so was the sparking charge that had ignited between them whenever their skin had touched. It didn't matter, somehow—she felt so much more alive in this moment. Was it because he could feel the labour that went into each of her breathes, or because her heartbeat seemed to cling to life with each rhythm. "You're the only person who I would ever allow to make that decision…and the only person I trust to be near me when I am unable to move."
She pressed her forehead against his. "I'm so sorry, Keigo. I'm so sorry you suffered."
He never wanted her to know the extent of it all—indeed—he hoped she never found about why he was adverse to the effects of medications. She hadn't responded well to learning about his wings, he didn't want to put her through anything else. He just—he just wanted—needed her to know—he felt safe in her faraday shield.
"If I do this…please don't leave."
"I won't. I promise."
"Please, Rilo." He gripped her tighter. "Don't leave the apartment."
"Keigo. I promise." She brushed gently at his hair. He leant into the touch, shuffling closer to her.
"Okay. We better fucking do this, before I chicken out—"
She snatched two pills from the couch and shoved them directly into his mouth. He stared at her and blinked. She wasn't holding his mouth, she wasn't gripping his jaw. He could have just spat them out at her in protest.
"Swallow." She ordered.
Oh—
Fuck—
Every muscle in his back tightened, having the rippling effect of stiffening his wings. Rilo didn't move from his lap, despite the tips of his feathers calcifying.
"Keigo. Swallow." She urged gently.
And he did.
Fuck—
He did—
He gripped her thighs.
"Why do you finally decide to use that sort of tone on me, only to make me take fucking pills." He buried his head in her chest, closing his eyes. He was going to sit here, and mope, and feel utterly sorry for himself.
Rilo gently brushed at his back. "Because if I used my magic powers all the time, they wouldn't work, would they."
"Hm, but you're sexy when you get just that little bit feisty."
"Keigo," she held his face. "You think my duckie face is sexy, I am not taking anything you say seriously."
He grinned. "I pretty much think your existence is sexy."
She pressed their noses together. "I guess the feeling is mutual. Can I please have my legs back."
He only tightened his grip. "Don't go."
"I'm not going anywhere, Keigo. I just want to move off your lap. Keigo…" she slapped his cheek lightly and he startled, sucking in a sharp breath.
"What?"
"My gosh." Rilo whispered. "That's terrifying. Don't do that. Don't zone out like that…"
"Get used to it," he whispered. "This will be me, for the next few hours."
He could barely feel her hands urging his away from her thighs.
"I think I'm afraid of losing you." He mumbled. "Maybe I'm self-sabotaging, I don't know…I've never been in this situation before. I've never felt these things—"
Her lips on his halted all semblance of further speech.
"You, sir, are thinking too much." She cradled his cheeks. "You're in pain, your wifey made you take medication, you're probably already starting to feel all weird, how about we stop thinking and start sleeping."
"I love you." He smiled.
"Sorry for making you take medication." She whispered.
"Heh," he sighed. "It's better you do it than anyone else. It can't be easy on you either."
"Well, that was probably the scariest thing I've ever done." She tugged the blanket around them and snuggled herself down beside him.
He frowned at the ceiling, not appreciating how it seemed to be getting closer to him. Oh—shite—it was starting—
"It was? Sorry," he murmured.
She kissed his cheek. "I love you."
"Rilo."
"Yeah."
"Don't go."
"I'm staying. I promise."