Chapter 7
The steam rose to the ceiling in the small, tiled room that the league called a bathroom. The only thing reminding him of one was the bathtub in the far corner: small, filthy and the only thing keeping Touya from burning a hole in the floorboards underneath. Hell yeah for fireproof enamel.
There was the sound of rushing water in his ears, but Touya couldn't feel the steady flow of the ice-cold shower on his skin. His breathing had become ragged about half an hour ago, and the steam was still rising.
He had overdone it. If the water wouldn't douse them, blue flames would still be licking at his skin. The whole disaster that was the PLF and Shigaraki had come crushing down on him, and then there had been Endeavour and the Commission and Hawks and…
A sound rose over the rushing water, and it took Touya a moment to realize it was laughter. His own mad, manic laughter. The one that had served as a substitute for crying half of his life now. But it was hilarious, wasn't it?
First, he had burnt off his lover's wings in a desperate attempt to safe him from an organization that used people like property in the name of heroics.
Then, the carefully fabricated reveal of his identity was butchered by this sorry excuse for a villain that didn't even have the strength to get his point across without relaying on some strange, almighty entity that used his body as a walking stick.
And then… His shoulders were shaking by now… then Endeavour had the audacity to send Shoto against him. His own little masterpiece, fighting the fight he was too scared to face himself.
He grit his teeth as a wave of nausea hit him. He would not puke into the bathtub. That would be a whole new level of disgusting.
The remaining hair dye was flowing down his shoulders in a steady stream, already making the water look dirty, and he cursed the fact that he had run out of proper shampoo. That dye remover had apparently not done its job, or there was still stuff stuck in his roots, or… whatever.
Touya took a deep breath. He had to get himself together. This reveal, this public display of hero society's rotten core, had been all he ever wanted. And yet…
There was still the smell of burnt feathers in his nose. Still the look on Shoto's face when he had told him his name lost all restraints in front of Endeavour. His flames had burnt hotter and hotter and he had been so close to losing control again.
And that other kid, Deku, who had tried to reason with him. You are not Endeavour.
No, he was not his father. He was what his father had made him. His mistake, his failure.
It's been a few days now, and he had purposefully stayed away from the other league members. Shigaraki had gone off the rails, Toga and Spinner were god-knows-where, Compress had been captured. This shitty excuse for a bathroom belonged to an ex-hideout in the outskirts of town. It had luckily not been destroyed by their rampage with Makhia, and nobody used it anymore. It was safe… for now.
He was still feeling too hot, but there was no steam rising in the small room anymore and therefore he'd decided that he had sat under the cold water long enough. Reaching for the tap to turn the water off, he paused. The fingers of his left hand refused to close around the valve.
The more he concentrated on it, the more they seemed to refuse. Looking at his hand, unable to process why, he felt the tremor creeping up his arm before it started shaking lightly.
Great, Toga had been right. He had probably fried the nerves in his arm to the point where they didn't work anymore. Not feeling was one thing, not being able to move another. Damn shit.
His right hand was a little more cooperative, and he turned the valve and waited for the rest of the greyish water to go down the drain. There was only one towel big enough to wrap around his body, so he let his hair drip while exiting the bathtub. The floor was slippery, and with his dominant hand basically being useless, he had a hard time finding his footing. There was a weird tingling sensation in his right foot as well, and Touya sighed.
If his feet were acting the same way as his hands, he would slip, fall, break his neck and free the world of his miserable existence.
But his feet did not fail him in the end, even though it was damn close on the way to the next room where he had left his clothes.
The white shirt was full of hair-dye stains, but his pants were relatively clean. He put them on and sat down on the ratty couch.
There was a small TV in the corner, and Touya eyed the remote control. He knew that when he switched it on, every channel would talk about what had happened in the last days with Jaku, Endeavour and the heroes. He fingered with the staples on his left hand, not feeling the tug of the metal against skin. He did want to know what Endeavour had done to try and control the damage. But there were also things he was afraid of.
His hands were still trembling, but he took the remote with his right and pressed a random channel button. The screen switched on and showed a panorama of the forest around the Gunga Villa, or what was left of it anyway. A news reporter was talking about the damages and Touya's eyes switched to the phone laying on the coffee table.
Hawks hadn't contacted him yet. He knew that the hero probably had important things to do, given his state and the state of the world around them, but still… Pictures of burnt feathers and screams flashed before his eyes, and Touya balled his fist. Hawks had asked him to do it. It had been his request, their plan… But Hawks hadn't contacted him yet.
The scene on the screen had changed to central hospital, and the reporter was talking about how heroes and some of the UA students were still being treated, while others were already able to leave the hospital after receiving the best care. Sadly, some of them would not be able to return to active duty in the foreseeable future, among them Gran Torino and-
A photograph was shown of Best Jeanist pushing a wheelchair into an elevator, and Touya felt every last bit of oxygen leave his lungs. He felt the blood rushing in his ears, his vision tunneling towards the picture of a man with bandages around his small face and burnt hair. A mask was covering the other half of his face with tubes connected to an unseen device. The golden eyes were dull, tired… lifeless.
The tingling feeling had moved from his feet and his arms over his whole body, and Touyas breath quickened. What had he done?
Hawks watched the city fly by through the windows of Jeanist's sports car. His right hand clutched the little phone device, keyboard opened but not a word typed down. He didn't know what to say, what to think. Jeanist had told him about Endeavour and Dabi's – Touya's – reveal. How he had broadcasted the whole thing on national tv. How he had fought Endeavour and Shoto and how the league and Shigaraki managed to escape after the whole ordeal.
What had he done?!
Hawks knew that it would have been only a matter of time before Touya would reveal his identity to the public, and maybe even their relationship. But not like this. He was supposed to be at his side when it happened. It should have happened as a well-planned, orchestrated, public-
Hawks' breath quickened, and Jeanist gave him a concerned side eye.
"Hawks, is everything okay?"
"Fine," he typed into the text-to-speech assistant, but Jeanist did not seem to be convinced.
"Look, if you don't want to be alone tonight, you can stay over at my place. I have a guest bedroom, and given that you're still having issues with your balance now that your wings are gone, I think maybe-" He let the statement hang in the air. Maybe because he wasn't sure if the wings comment had crossed a line. Or simply because he wanted Hawks to fill in and conclude for himself that it was a bad idea to stay alone in his downtown apartment.
Considering the state of things and the facts he had just learned, Hawks doubted that anyone would be waiting for him...
"I have to notify the commission first."
Jeanist seemed confused, and a bit wary with his next question.
"Why would you need to do that?"
Hawks sighed. Jeanist didn't know how deep his connection to the Safety Commission really ran, and he wasn't up for a crash course of his personal history. Not that he would want him to know anyway.
"They wanted me to meet a special physiotherapist tomorrow," he typed. "House call. Maybe they can postpone the appointment."
"Oh, in that case-"
"No. They will postpone it. I will stay at your place." After a brief pause, he added. "Pizza?"
Jeanist's eyes lit up, a clear sign that he was smiling. "My pleasure."
Best Jeanist's apartment was a bit smaller than his own, but Hawks would have killed for the walk-in wardrobe. He'd been inside the living room only once, way back when he had fake killed the denim hero to gain the trust of the league. Dabi hadn't been able to convince Shigaraki, so he had to have supporting evidence.
Now, the room was dimly lit by a floor lamp and the two of them were sitting cross legged at a low coffee table. The kitchen chairs were hurting his back too much, and Hawks was way too afraid to stain Jeanist's expensive looking couch with tomato sauce.
He had texted the commission's chief that we was spending the night at Best Jeanist's house because "his current physical limitations bore a risk of injury". That was bullshit, but he knew that they would buy this display of supposed self-awareness. They'd agreed to postpone the physiotherapy until the day after tomorrow, giving him a little time to breathe.
"You look tired," Jeanist remarked after he had finished most of his Chicken BBQ pizza. Yes, it was ironic, but it was his favorite.
"Honestly? I am exhausted." Hawks typed and sighed. The painkillers they had given him were the good stuff, as Touya would have called them. He was relatively numb, but bone tired.
"You can have the guest bedroom. There are towels and an extra blanket in the drawers. Rest... I'll be here if you need me."
"Tsunagu...?" It was still strange to use the fiber master's first name. They had switched from hero names to first name basis a year or so ago, but as they rarely saw each other outside of mission work, they weren't used as much. "Thank you."
Jeanist just nodded and got up when Hawks did. He took his arm without a word and led him to the door beside the bathroom.
"Here." He opened the door and switched on the light. Hawks couldn't help but smile at the bedsheets: denim print.
"Thanks. Goodnight, Tsunagu."
Despite the print, the bedsheets were soft and smelled like detergent. Hawks was laying on his side, blanket drawn over his torso and careful to touch his back as little as possible. He had put the mask on the bedside table; the nurse had told him he could switch the machine off at night and the thought of sleeping with something covering his mouth alone was suffocating. His phone was charging beside it, and Hawks stared at the black screen.
Touya still hadn't texted him. He hadn't heard from him since the Gunga Villa, and after everything he'd learned from Jeanist, he wasn't so sure anymore that he would.
He could make the first move, but...
Who do you think really needs rescuing?
That sentence had been eating at him since he woke up in the hospital. Dabi had probably wanted to play mind games with Tokoyami. But... what if there was more to it.
Dammit.
Why hadn't they talked about what would happen after all of this? Why had Touya gone and basically thrown a bomb on everything he was... everything they were trying to be.
Touya stared at the phone in his hand. The pictures of Keigo in the hospital had burned themselves into his brain, together with the smell of feathers and the echoing screams. He didn't know what to do.
Should he text him? Call him?
He laughed. What would he even say?
Hey Keigo, sorry for crippling you. I just wanted to tell you that I revealed my life story on national tv and nearly suicide bombed my father. Coffee?
Would Keigo listen to him? Or see him as the criminal he was and finally rat him out to the authorities? Maybe that was for the best.
He should be home by now. If the tv broadcast had been live, he had left the hospital nearly 8 hours ago.
Touya's eyes wandered to the phone again. It was close to midnight. Keigo was probably asleep. The hospital must have given him the good meds, and he was out cold in his bed hiding from the prying eyes of the press... And the commission.
He swallowed.
They would leave him alone now, wouldn't they? No need for the winged hero when there were no wings to make him a hero anymore...
He unlocked his phone screen and his finger hovered over the messenger app for just a second, before he opened the browser instead.
The headlines of the news pages were all screaming the same thing in his face:
DABI DESTROYED NUMBER ONE HERO
ENDEAVOUR: CAN WE TRUST THE NO.1?
ENDEAVOUR'S DARK FAMILY HISOTRY REVEALED
Every article was combined with a picture of Endeavour, or a screenshot of the video he had asked Sceptic to broadcast nationwide. A small smile tugged at Touya's staples. This is what he wanted. Show them what their number one hero is really capable of. Show them what lives behind the hero persona they all seem to love and adore. Destroy the false hero society that made children into tools for their own twisted goals.
He remembered his brother, the way Shoto's two-toned eyes had been wide in shock as Touya had tried to use his father's own move against him. He was angry. Angry at his father, but he couldn't forgive his brother either. The way he had taken the path he had been supposed to walk. The fact that he was the well-known hero student, child of the number one hero, while Touya had been thrown away like a broken toy. Useless. Worthless. A thing to be wiped from history and never to be talked about again.
Shoto was the perfect soldier. The perfect balance between their parents Quirks, useful, a good student, obedient, conforming.
Everything Touya never could have been.
Don't let yourself get distracted by your emotions.
He took a deep breath. His hand was shaking again, and he didn't want to turn his phone into ash. This hadn't been the reason why he had opened the browser. His own decision to throw a bomb into hero society was not important right now. His feelings had to go back into the deep, dark box they had been kept in for the last decade or so.
He typed in "Hawks" and pressed the search button again.
The first result was Keigo's Wikipedia article, followed by several hero wiki sites and a Fanclub page. Then the news articles started.
PRO HERO HAWKS: RETIRED?
HAWKS LOST HIS WINGS
HAWKS: CAN HE STILL BE A HERO?!
Touya clicked on the third headline, still focusing on not incinerating his touchscreen. His fingers twitched as a sharp pain shot through his arm and he grabbed his wrist with the other hand. Don't let it fall. Concentrate. Your nerves are just acting up again. Breathe.
The article opened to a photo of Hawks in a wheelchair in front of the hospital, together with Best Jeanist and what seemed like a nurse. The denim hero looked well put together, and Dabi was still impressed about the fact that he went so far in order to trick the League. Or rather: Shigaraki. Touya had been in on the whole deal from the beginning. But he had played his part. Jeanist was probably even the reason he was still standing here in this shithole of a kitchen. He had captured him before he could release the entire power of a prominence burn on Endeavour, and that had probably been for the best. At that time, Dabi had been consumed by hatred and a desire to put an end to Endeavour by any means necessary. His judgement had been switched off like the feeling in his nervous system, as he had tried to mimic his father's ultimate move. If Best Jeanist hadn't intervened, Dabi probably wouldn't have survived that attack.
Even now, he could barely walk or use his arms without the nerve damage turning every move into agony. If they obeyed him at all. Pins and needles, numbness, pain... it was one hell of a backlash.
His eyes returned to the article and the picture of Hawks. Like in the news broadcast earlier, his face was covered in bandages and a mask connected to a device in his pocket. His wings were gone, and he looked tired. Touya skimmed the article below:
Pro Hero Hawks has lost his wings in the fight at Gunga Villa... Sources suggest that he got taken down by the villain Dabi, given the severe burn injuries... loss of his wings and severe burns to his throat and vocal cords...not able to talk... hero safety commission offered statement...did not confirm a retirement, which might suggest... not permanent...return to hero work as soon as possible...
He felt like throwing up. It had been for nothing. Even without his wings, Hawks was still their tool. He had just lost a vital part of himself, and all they were talking about was when or if he could resume hero work. Or if he was even capable of doing so.
He clicked on the first article. This one had an old promo shot of Hawks as a headline picture, but the text was nearly the same.
Severe burn injuries... retirement speculations... hero commission offered statement... still useful in civilian work... rehabilitation... seen outside of central hospital... wheelchair and breathing device... rumor of permanent...
The phone burst into flames and Touya let it fall to the floor in a reflex move. His breathing was unsteady and his legs were shaking under him. Useful.
There are still other things you can be useful in Touya, you don't need to be a hero.
This was all wrong. They had planned for this to work. To use him as a get free from the commission card, so that Keigo could make his own decisions. But he had been so naïve.
Of course they wouldn't take it.
Like they would allow an abuser to be the number one just because he hid his trash under a rug and was useful to them. To the peace. To their little black and white plastic world where everyone was either good or evil. There was no in between, no matter the reason.
He grabbed the counter in a desperate attempt to steady himself, but the world was still spinning around him. The flames were still licking at his wrist. His breathing was still too fast.
Fuck. Get yourself together.
He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on his breathing. One step forward proved that his legs were indeed not able to carry his weight at the moment, and he crumbled into a sad little heap beside the kitchen counter. Pathetic. Come on, control your emotions. You have to calm down, or this will end up like all those years ago. Breathe. Yes, it hurts. Focus on that. Focus on anything but the flames. Breathe.
The tremor going through his limbs was accompanied by a stabbing pain in his hands and feet and he just lay there, waiting for it to be over.
It felt like an eternity, but slowly, the flames died down and the pain ebbed to a dull ache and a slight tremble in his fingers. The floor was a little singed, and Touya's eyes fell on the blob of molten plastic that used to be his phone.
Shit. This was his only burner phone.
There was a slight knock on the door, and Keigo groaned. The light peeking out at the edges of the black out curtains told him it had to be morning, but he still felt like he had been run over by a villain in a truck. Twice.
"Good Morning," Tsunagu's voice was soft as he stuck his head through the half open door, "breakfast is ready if you want some."
Keigo groaned again, both times wasn't more than a breathy whisper, and hid his head under the blanket.
"Alright, just wanted to let you know. You can come out whenever you want. If you need help, just tell me." The door closed again with a soft click.
Keigo took a deep breath. He couldn't hide in here forever, even though he had been awake for a few hours already. But the thought of someone fussing over him was enough to keep him in bed. Yesterday evening had been nice, just pizza, small talk and the illusion of normalcy. But today would be different. The sleep had taken his exhaustion, but the pain was still there, and he knew that as soon as he would leave the bed, it would only get worse.
The phone on his nightstand suddenly gave a soft ping and his pulse quickened. He took it and opened the messenger app, only to find that it was full of get well soon messages from Rumi and even one from Tokoyami. He scrolled though the feed, noticed that the most recent one was a confirmation of the physiotherapist appointment for the next day, and also noticed an absence of a certain number.
Touya had been saved as Hotstuff in his contacts since the start of his undercover mission in the league, but the last conversation with him had been the meet up on the rooftop. No new messages since then. He sighed. Okay, fuck this.
He opened the chat and typed:
U OK? I'll be home this afternoon.
He hit the send button and waited, but the message did not register as delivered. There was only one little check, showing that the other party must have their phone switched off or not have a signal. If Touya wanted to give him the silent treatment after everything that had happened, so be it.
Keigo sat up and grit his teeth as the burns on his back protested. Throwing his legs over the edge, he tried to stand up and walk to the door. He got halfway there before the world swayed dangerously to the right and he had to brace himself against a chair, which promptly fell over. The crash alerted Tsunagu, who came rushing through the door in a heartbeat.
"Keigo! I told you to ask for help if you need it. Come here." He took him by the arm and led him outside, one hand hovering over the small of his back, but not touching.
The coffee table where they'd had pizza the night before was full of breakfast food now. Keigo noticed that Tsunagu had even made pancakes while he was pouring himself a cup of coffee. After seating him at the buffet, he had gone back into the bedroom for the little speaking device and placed his clothes on the heater in the bathroom.
"So, what's your plan for today? Do you want to stay? We can watch a movie or something...?" Tsunagu placed a pancake on his plate and practically drowned it in syrup. While Keigo appreciated the offer, there was a part of him that wanted to go home. Yesterday, he had been scared to be alone, but now he longed for his own little nest before he had to deal with the commission and the world again.
"Thank you, but I think I want to go home," he typed into the device. Tsunagu nodded.
"I understand. Familiar quarters are the best for a speedy recovery. It's nearly noon, so we can maybe pick up some supplies on the way? A little stop at the grocery store and a pharmacy might be-" A phone rang, interrupting Tsunagu mid-sentence. He made an apologetic face and took the call.
"Yes?"
His face went from neutral to concerned in a matter of milliseconds and Keigo looked up.
"I see. Yes... I understand... yes... I know, but maybe we can-... I see. Very well, we'll be there. Yes...Goodbye." He hung up, and Keigo sensed that something was in the air.
"This was the hospital. Endeavour is awake and wants to speak with us... With you."
