Chapter Two: dichotomy

It was late when Keigo had called to say he was staying over at the agency. Rilo had squared her shoulders and marched down into the tattoo parlour where Dabi was ripping out the old benches, and she'd politely asked to be driven to the agency.

He'd looked at her and grumbled something about boredom as he grabbed his keys. She presumed that meant she was getting a ride and had followed him. Now she was staring up at the agency, wondering if she'd made the right call.

Did Keigo even want her here?

Rilo glanced back at Dabi. "Do you think—"

"Princess, get the fuck out." Dabi reached over her, opening the car door. "I am beyond tired of you and the Hawk being all iffy at each other. Go in there and deal with your shite. I ain't got the fucking patience for your drama."

Rilo pouted at him.

"Out!"

She huffed, grabbing her handbag and hoisting herself out of the car. "You will look after Izuku, right?"

"Oh my fucking god! I am not a babysitter!"

"Dabi." Rilo gasped. "He's a child."

"The brat will be fine. Now get inside."

She stomped away, passing Izuku as he headed out of the agency. "Ah…hi Rilo…um…"

"Get in the car, brat!" Dabi shouted. "I ain't waiting another second longer."

Izuku squeaked and quickly leapt into the convertible.

Rilo watched them speed away. Her shoulders sunk and she turned her gaze up at the looming glass building.

Alright—

She breathed in deeply.

Alright—

She could do this.

She could be confident.

Every step she took through the agency wore down her confidence, until she was an utter bag of nerves as she slipped her way into the gym.

Rilo eased herself down on an empty bench, watching as Keigo ran through his weight regime. He gave her a weary smile as he finally latched the bar across his shoulders back onto its rack. He leant on it lazily, wiping sweat off his forehead with a towel.

"Hey gorgeous."

"Hey." Rilo kicked her legs out playfully. "Don't stop on my behalf. Keep going."

"I'm pretty sure you're just here to admire my arse." Keigo turned back around, hooking himself beneath the bar once more and slowly dropping into a squat.

"Ah, yeah." Rilo poked her own cheek. "No use lying about that."

He laughed, which probably didn't help him halfway through his sets. As he started dismantling the weights, Rilo headed over to him, placing her hands on one of the large weight wheels.

"I wouldn't do that." Keigo called out from the weight rack. "One of them alone is two hundred kilograms, babe."

Rilo immediately stepped back. "What? You had, like, five, stacked on."

"Yeah, not having a great day, so, decided to keep it light."

She covered her face. Yes. Of course. She was married to a hero. "Right, sure…light."

He flashed her a smirk. "Well, light for a hero." He headed back to her, reaching around her as he hoisted the weight off the bar. She could feel the heat he was emanating, and it made her toes curl. He turned the weight around, twisting a small dial on it. "They're especially designed for heroes, otherwise we'd never be able to train. This little dial alters the weights mass. I've got mine all capped at two hundred, but I know some heroes have to cap higher."

"How?" Rilo wondered in amazement. "How is that even possible."

"The bloke who created them, it's his quirk. Somehow, he can alter the mass of objects, and he figured out how to commercialize it." Keigo held the weight out to her, "Here."

Rilo hesitated before taking the round slate. She expected it to be heavy, only, it wasn't. It was no heavier than a book. "Oh, wow, that's amazing."

He took the weight, slipping it back on the rack.

"Can you teach me?" Rilo asked.

"Sure. The junk is all here, so, don't see why not." He looked around the gym. "Once you're more recovered, I can start you on a basic program. I don't want you lifting anything heavy right now and hurting yourself, but, honestly, it doesn't take long to build up."

He wrapped an arm around her. "You'll probably enjoy it more than running up and down those stairs at the powerplant."

Rilo sighed. "Boredom does strange things to people."

"Noticed that with Dabi."

Rilo giggled. "I interrupted him tearing out the old benches in the tattoo parlour."

"Better that than tearing out someone's throat." Keigo collected his gym bag and held open the door for her. She slipped out into the walkway, casting her gaze across the dark interior of the agency. It was very different at night, when only a few of the interior lights lit the large inner dome.

She squealed in surprise as Keigo hoisted her up and tossed her into the air.

"Wow…" he caught her. "After lifting a thousand kilograms, you're basically a feather."

"Keigo!" Rilo laughed.

He smiled. "I do love it when you say my name."

"Goose."

"Okay. Now you're being mean." He dropped her down. "Ah, so, I'm going to wash my sweat off." Keigo jutted a thumb in the direction of the showers.

Rilo quickly nodded. "Okay."

He tipped around, giving a small smile that made her chest tighten. "You know, you can join me. That's allowed."

Rilo bit her bottom lip. "I know."

Everything in her wanted to step forward to follow him, but her confidence faltered as someone else's hands held her—not his—

Rilo swallowed, fighting back the tears.

"Babe?"

She forced a smile. "I'm fine."

Yeah—

He'd have known she was lying.

But he didn't comment, she simply leant into his hand that brushed at her tears.

"I won't be long." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You can hang out in my office, if you like."

Rilo nodded. She watched as he jogged down the long, round walkway towards the showers, vanishing through the doors, before she slowly took the stairs up to the next level and wound her own way around the walkway towards his office. She nudged open the door with a foot and peered in, not entirely sure why she was being so hesitant when she knew there wasn't anyone else in the agency.

Slowly she slipped in, breathing a sigh of relief as she pressed back against the door. It was just a room, with a desk, and Keigo's ancient, boxy desktop computer, with a single couch in the corner of the room and a few filing cabinets tucked away discretely. What was impressive was the window wall and its skyline view of Fukuoka.

Rilo drifted towards the twinkling lights.

They weren't her lights anymore.

Somewhere, out there, was another powerplant—and somewhere out there, was another generator, just like her, living in a tower, powering all the lights she could see. Rilo closed her eyes, dropping her head.

Did she deserve to be happy on the back of someone else's suffering?

0000

Rilo tipped around, hearing the office door open. Keigo entered, casting aside a gym bag idly. He hadn't been all that long in the shower, though without his wings there wasn't so much he had to worry about in maintenance. He rubbed at an aching shoulder, cracking his neck as he tracked his way towards her, a softness to his gaze that hinted at a true smile. He wrapped his arms around her and she bunched up against him. For a while, that's how they stayed, linked together, admiring the nightlife across the Fukuoka skyline. It was somewhat reminiscent of the long, peaceful nights in the powerplant and perhaps that was why she felt oddly comfortable. At least, more comfortable than she had in the poky pink apartment.

Rilo tipped her head back. "So, is there a reason you stayed behind at the agency tonight?"

He took a deep inhale that she felt vibrate his chest as he released it in a long exhale. "When it rains, it pours," he muttered. "I was presented with a problem, and I had to figure it out."

"Did you?"

"I don't know." Keigo pulled away. He sat back on his desk, shaking his head wearily. "You know, at the hospital the other day, when I mentioned that there was a kid who'd be able to cure aliments by just touching someone."

Rilo nodded slowly. "Yeah. You said it was like…being divine…"

"Pretty much."

She watched as he tapped his desk in a worried mannerism. He was working himself up, like a winding corkscrew being twisted. He only did this around her, and perhaps Jeanie—maybe he'd done it with Dad once. It was Keigo at his rawest; when he unboxed his emotions.

"That kid, his name is Kai, he's five. He lives in sector eighteen with his father, and his sister. His father runs a ramen shop. Great place. It's a bit of a hangout for the police department, but it's also one of the central hubs for the rising quirk-less dissidence movement."

Rilo frowned. "Like what Osamu could have been involved in?"

"It is possible. I won't know until I look into it further."

"Are you worried about this boy?"

"Well, I wasn't overly concerned. His father is one of the community pillars, strong leader, considered him capable of looking after his kid. That was until today, when his father—Jirou—asked me to visit with Etio."

"Etio?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I was curious enough to go along with it." Keigo eased off the desk. "Now I'm kind of sandwiched between being glad I did, and also, completely at a loss." He thumped his desk. "Kai can regrow limbs."

Rilo blinked. "Wait…what?"

"Yeah. No fucking clue how, but he regrew Etio's leg…he would have fixed my wings if I'd let him."

"Why didn't you let him?" Rilo gasped.

"Because…babe, it's a widely known fact that it takes approximately three days for my wings to regrow enough that I can use fierce wing, four to five days to their full seven feet."

"Right," Rilo nodded slowly. She'd read that in a hero magazine. It hadn't ever been some big secret that he'd kept to himself.

"Basically, it's easier to fudge up the paperwork on Etio's leg to make it seem like things got cross wired there, than for me to suddenly have working wings again…as nice as that would be."

"You're wanting to keep the boy a secret?" Rilo asked.

Keigo looked at her with pained eyes. "Rilo…Rilo can you imagine what someone like Madam would do with him?"

Rilo winced.

"Or what if a villain ring got a hold of him?"

"What if the Bureau…" Rilo whispered.

"Exactly." Keigo dragged a hand through his hair. "Jirou got down on his hands and knees and begged me to take the kid away." Keigo dropped his head back. "And all I saw…Rilo…all I saw was my mother, giving me up, and there I was; I was Madam."

"Keigo…" Rilo gasped.

He covered his face with trembling hands. "Isn't that how it is? You become your abuser—"

Rilo grabbed his wrists, yanking hard to drag them down so she could stare up into his terror filled eyes.

"Don't you dare do this to yourself." She gripped his wrists tighter. "You are not, and never will be, anything like her."

The brokenness of his voice felt like knives against her chest. "She made me everything I am today. Who I am, if not the man she made me? Can I not be proud of what I am, while also grieve for the boy she ruined?"

"You're allowed to have a dichotomy of emotions, Keigo." Rilo clasped his cheeks, brushing at his tears. "You can even hate her, and appreciate what she did for you, all at the same time. That won't change the fact that you will never be her."

"How can you be so sure," he whispered.

"Because you make a conscious decision, every day, to be a hero." Rilo wrapped her arms around him. "And besides that…Madam is alone…you are not alone."

Keigo pressed into her.

"I am here," Rilo assured.

He gave a weak laugh against her shoulder.

00000

Keigo collapsed back on the couch with a weary sigh, rather emotionally done with the day if he was honest with himself. Rilo lingered by the expansive window and nightlife view. The sparkling lights were captivating, showing a city alive with a happy, warm hum of activity.

Rilo twirled around on her toes. "Do you think I'm horrible for being happy that I'm alive, and free to live my life with you, while the lights still shine out there?"

"Didn't you just tell me that you're allowed to have a dichotomy of emotions." He held out his arms for her and she moved towards him, falling onto the couch in a swirl of her silver hair.

Keigo pressed his lips to her forehead. "As I am allowed to feel as I feel, I think you're free to feel happy that you're alive, and also sad that yes, somewhere out there you have a sister in captivity. That is simply the truth of it."

Rilo brushed at her damp cheeks.

"But don't let that sorrow override our victory." He clasped her hands. "I got you out, you're alive, and we're together."

She nodded.

He felt her shift away from him. She was doing it again—pulling away from him. He let his arm fall away limply as she stood. Her hands rubbed anxiously against her long skirt, just as they had in the corridor outside the shower.

His brow furrowed.

"Rilo? What's wrong?" He hesitated in reaching out a hand for her.

She breathed in deeply. Her vibrant, electric eyes lifted to capture his in a firm gaze.

"Um…so…I have a small confession."

"Okay…" His heart stopped.

Oh—no—

Her teeth pulled at her bottom lip as she bounced on her toes, then slowly, she hiked up her long skirt.

Oh—okay—

That pivoted.

"I'm not wearing underwear."

Keigo gave a small laugh of relieved tension. "You came with a mission in mind."

Rilo pursed her lips. "Well…maybe…"

He reached for her as she saddled him and he drew her into a slow, deliberate kiss, letting his hands work their way around her hips and thighs as she pushed him deeper into the couch.

"Just maybe?" he whispered.

Rilo covered her burning pink face. "I had to do something! Okay. I've been feeling so weird, and I…I thought…maybe…maybe if I pretended to feel confident, I'd be confident."

Oh—he did so love the way she thought. "You're so adorable."

"No, I'm a mess." Rilo sunk against his shoulder, and he gently cradled her. "I just…for some reason, I feel like I did when we first started…er…"

"Indulging in carnal delights?"

Rilo giggled. "Yeah." Her head lifted away from his neck.

Keigo brushed at her silver hair, curling the glowing strands through his fingers. "Think of what you're experiencing as a metamorphosis, what once was, has changed, and it will take time to feel comfortable in your skin. That's okay, babe. Most of us figure this shite out as kids when our quirk manifests. You never really got that chance."

"But…Keigo, what if I hurt you."

He almost laughed. It took effort not too. This was distressing her, and he could not be a dick about it, no matter how tempting it was. He raised his hands, revealing the soft buzz between them.

"See this?"

Rilo nodded.

"This is what nature intended, alright. How about we trust that."

She glanced down. "But I'm afraid."

"I know. You're allowed to be afraid, Rilo."

He was terrified too, for entirely different reasons than she was—he was sure.

Her pink glow was enchanting, and captivating, and he adored teasing it out of her—

But it was difficult to get Osamu's words out of his mind.

He had loose ends he needed to deal with, and it was frustrating being unable to chase them, and wipe them all from his game board.

Rilo gave a small groan, her hands slapping down on his wrists that held her thighs.

"Wait, wait, Keigo." She bent back. "Can people see us?"

He squinted at her in confusion. "What?"

"The window?" Rilo pointed at the clear office wall, and he tilted his head towards it, and the nighttime view of the dancing city lights.

"Ah, no, babe. It's a one-way window." He kicked off his boots.

"Oh. Oh, that's good." Rilo rolled back slightly as he freed his legs from his track pants.

He chuckled. "That's funny coming from you, babe."

"Why?"

"Your windows at the powerplant, they weren't one-way windows. You paraded around in your fucking underwear every day."

"No one had any idea I lived there." She huffed.

Keigo gripped her hips, directly her down against him. She grabbed at his shoulders, clenching her nails into his skin.

"I knew," he whispered into her ear.

"Pervert." Rilo leant into his hands as he lifted her shirt over her head, untangling it from her arms.

"For you, always." He gripped her chin, dragging his thumb across her lips, watching the soft crackle of energy flake from the delicate touch. "Permission to fuck you senseless?"

She grinned. "Permission granted."

000

"Oh, please, Dabi! Please! Please! Please!"

How the actual fuck did he end up baby-sitting the baby birdie?

Dabi rubbed the bridge of his nose irritably. He had a villain meet to get to in the early morning hours, and for some reason, broccoli-top was intent on coming along. Sure, yeah, he could have ditched the kid, he could have ordered the kid to stay home and sleep, he could have locked the kid in the fluffy pink handcuffs he'd found in the kitchen drawer until he got back, he could have burnt the kid to death.

All good options.

Well, other than the last one.

That one would have resulted in him probably getting made into a pincushion, then maybe carried into the stratosphere, and dropped into the ocean. He did wonder if he'd go splat on the water. He'd have to ask Hawks if people went splat when hitting water when dropped from great heights.

"Please, Dabi! Please." Izuku bounced around him as if he was on a pogo-stick.

Dabi sighed.

Alright—what the hell—fine.

He'd been given the brat for the night, that basically meant he was the guardian, so, that gave him all rights. He'd run away from home at a young age and learnt how to be a villain and fend for himself amongst the chaotic hierarchy of villain culture, it'd be good for the brat to learn the other side of the line.

"Fine." Dabi grumbled.

"Yes!" Izuku whooped, leaping into the air.

Dabi swung away, heading for the tv-cabinet where he was currently storing his small assortment of clothes. He searched through the drawers, finding a leather jacket with silver studs. He held it out to Izuku, frowning at the size difference.

"Hm, it'll do."

Izuku looked confused.

"And we're going to have to do something about your hair." Dabi pulled out a bottle of black hair-dye.

"Hawks will kill me." Izuku yelped.

"It washes out easily with this." Dabi flipped up another bottle. "Take a shower in the morning."

It was a slapdash effort, and they made a mess of the kitchen—not that it really mattered considering the kitchen was due to be torn out and remodelled. The result was still worth the time. Broccoli-top was no more. Dabi grinned at his work. In broccoli-top's place was a little black-haired boy, in a large quickly altered leather jacket that sat over his black hero armour.

"Hm…you're missing something." Dabi tapped his chin. He headed back to his corner of the apartment, sorting through his boxes, smiling as he found one of his old breathing masks. Dabi crouched down, fitting it around Izuku's nose and mouth. "There we go, perfect."

Izuku touched his face curiously. "What is it?" the brat asked, voice slightly muffled.

"I used to struggle to control my quirk, and I released a lot of smoke, so I kept breathing masks around for myself and others. You can keep it." Dabi ruffled Izuku's hair fondly.

"Thanks!"

The brat was no doubt grinning behind the mask. Good—it was working—that winning smile would have immediately given him away. Dabi pulled out his keys, giving them a twirl.

"Come on then. Let's go."

"Yes!" Izuku bobbed along behind him.

000

The location of a Meet tended to be rotated, just as a precaution. Even in a city like Fukuoka, with a hero agency as small as Hawks' it wasn't good to grow complacent. Knowing Hawks, the hero undoubtedly already knew each location, and was simply choosing not to wipe them out because they hadn't made a ruckus; that and the man was nothing but the pinnacle of laziness.

This time the Meet was in the old warehouse district of sector eighteen. The grandiose urban planning of the other sectors had failed to make an impact in sector eighteen, and so, despite what Dabi was sure had been considerable investments in the infrastructure of Fukuoka over many decades, the old, ancient warehouses had remained. No one knew what the warehouses had once been used for—that had long been lost to time. Though every so often, they did find a box or two of Before Era alcohol, and cases of weapons so ancient frankly none of them had any idea how they worked.

Fascinating stuff. Sold for a pretty penny in the Underground Market.

Dabi looked up at the rickety warehouse, light leaking out through splits in the wooden walls and the dirtied, broken windows. He could hear the murmurings of voices rising and falling from within.

"Are there any rules I need to know?" Izuku asked.

"The rules are, there are no rules." Dabi climbed his way up a pile of crates, heading for an opening in the wall. "If you feel, at any time, threatened by someone, you are within your rights to assert yourself. If you think they have misspoken, you are within your rights to correct them however you feel fit to do so. Power is respected, yet power is not always physical, sometimes it is mental and sometimes it is simply the ability to out talk your opponent and win the majority to your view."

"Do people kill each other?"

"If that is how someone decides to deal with the situation, then yes."

"Is this why you respect Hawks like you do?"

"It is." Dabi glanced behind, making sure the brat followed him through the entrance. They came out on high wooden beams holding up the warehouse ceiling. Dotted across the roof rack, several dozen villains sat in the shadows, perched high and watching the larger gathering below. Dabi balanced easily along the beam, jumping across one, to another to gain a better view. He sat himself down, hooking a knee under his chin.

Izuku joined him.

Across the ceiling racks, Dabi felt the stares of curious villains from the shadows watching him. His presence at these meets was a rare occurrence, and it usually meant he was displeased about something, and it did tend to mean someone was going to die.

"Hello Dabi…" a slender woman slinked down beside him with all the grace of snake.

"Casket." Dabi tipped his head in greeting.

"Who's the brat?"

"Babysitting him." Dabi was honest, not really seeing a reason to lie about it.

"Really?" Casket leant forward, smiling at Izuku with blue painted lips. "Hey sweetie, you got a name?"

Izuku shook his head.

"Just call him brat, because that's what he is." Dabi frowned at the circle of villains below them. Porcupine had emerged, and without his hulking armour, the man's age was apparent. A villain in their sixties, still fit, still strong, still powerful, and still full of rage at society for some chip on their shoulder. He rather hoped he looked as good as Porcupine did in his sixties, and after a stint in Tartarus. A tight haircut of grey, a nice, grandfatherly beard and dressed in military cargo pants, skivvy and steel capped boots.

So—what—did the man think he was some sort of commanding officer in a war game? It was insulting. Villain life was a life of freedom from conformity. They had their ranks, they had their structure that allowed them to function, but it was built around the concept and belief of self-autonomy.

"You worried he's going to usurp your position?" Casket asked.

"Not particularly." Dabi dismissed the notion. "I'm more concerned he's creating an imbalance, and is going to stir up the lower ranks into a frenzy."

"I don't understand?" Izuku frowned.

Dabi held out a hand to Izuku. "The average people of Fukuoka, those that just run around living their boring, mundane lives, the ones who keep society functioning by paying their taxes and doing right by us all…"

"Yeah…" Izuku nodded.

"They tolerate us unregistered folk at the moment, but the moment we start making too much of a ruckus, that tolerance can flip."

"Then…how do you…I mean, how do we be villains if we can't cause a ruckus?" Izuku asked innocently.

It was a question from a child who didn't understand the way of the world. Understandable, the kid was seeing things for the first time. This was good—maybe it had been a good idea to bring him after all. He wouldn't join hero school as a fucking idiot.

Casket gave a soft laugh. "Oh sweetie-pie, it's all about knowing when, and where, and how."

Dabi grinned. "Being a villain isn't all about making a mess of a city, kid. Nor is it always about being the biggest, baddest serial killer, or a fucking pedo. Sure, you have those, but we're also about forging documents, hiring planes to fly to drop supplies into the European Conglomerate. Sometimes it's about getting hired to take out cheating wives or husbands. What about smuggling entire shipments of hard-to-find pharmaceuticals into a city, or across sector lines. It can even be spray painting dicks on evil banks, maybe blowing up a train line so our fascist overlords get a taste of the populus being pissed at them. It's the small things, that eventually, work into the big things."

"Basically, if you catch the ire of a hero, you've fucked up." Casket offered. "Porcupine is making too much of a wave. Hawks is the kind of hero who'd come in here and wipe us all out for stepping on his lawn. It's what makes him such a great hero to live under."

Dabi cracked his knuckles. "Alright, let's get this shite show over with. Casket, you hanging back here or…?"

She flicked her neon blue hair aside. "As if I'd miss the chance to have some fun."

"Brat, stay." Dabi pointed to Izuku.

Izuku's eyes narrowed at him. He ignored it as he swung himself out and down, landing in the middle of the circle of villains. Casket dropping down beside him a moment later. Porcupine's yellow eyes shifted towards him, showing momentary surprise.

"Dabi."

"Yo." Dabi held up a hand in greeting.

A murmuring ripple spread through the gathering of villains. This was why he liked not coming to every Meet. It made the times when he did come always a surprise.

"What happened to your fingers?" Porcupine asked.

Dabi glanced at the pink band aids still wrapped around each individual finger. "There is this nasty, ugly bird nesting in my new apartment, I attempted to shoo it away, and all it did was try to murder me."

"Yes, you do seem to have a thing for birds." Porcupine arched an eyebrow. "I was telling our brethren of how you so valiantly stepped in and protected a hero from me."

"Oh, you mean little Tweety?" Dabi spread his hands.

Immediately at the name, several villains made protesting movements. Porcupine shifted uneasily, frowning at the rising tension in the air.

Dabi shook his head. "You see, that's your problem Porcupine, you come here, to my city, and you don't know the balance. Tweety is well loved here in sector eighteen, plays with a lot of the kids, gives them extra food cards from his own pocket money." Strolling idly around, Dabi spun on his heels. "Now, if it'd been Fat Gum snooping around our drugs, or one of Ingenium's numerous annoying sidekicks, meh, I probably wouldn't have cared…but…"

Dabi waggled a finger.

"Like I told you, this is my city, and every fucking thing in it belongs to me, including the heroes." He swept out his arms, giving a twirl that spread embers. "You're more than welcome to Stake he Claim. Come on, take me on, I dare you."

Porcupine lifted his chin.

Dabi crackled. "Yeah, didn't fucking think so. Too much of a pussy to try it without your backup, heh." He held out a hand, clicking his fingers in a summoning motion.

Casket placed the Tartarus tranquilizer in his outstretched hand. A rising mutter arose from the gathering around them. Not many would have seen the device in person—pictures of it on the web, perhaps, but for it to be amongst them was as alarming, perhaps more so, than it had been for the heroes.

"Who was the man I killed, Porcupine, that saved your arse when I tried to roast you."

Porcupine sneered. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh fuck you." The concrete beneath his boots sizzled, turning a deep, boiling red. Smoke seeped between his aching scar tissue joins. "You come here, spilling shite about reclaiming our rightful place, and you're fucking working for the quirk-less dissidence movement."

Porcupine addressed the gathering around them, like a coward. "If we joined together, even just for a day, all of us here, in this warehouse, could claim the streets of Fukuoka."

Handing the tranquilizer back to Casket, Dabi took note of the idiots who shouted their agreements.

"And achieve what?" Izuku's voice called out from above.

Porcupine looked up. Dabi had to admit, the brat looked rather intimidating for being—well—a brat—but up in the rafters, amongst the shadows, very little of him was visible but his bright green eyes and the glint of the mask he wore.

"And who are you?" Porcupine asked.

"Foglamp." Dabi breathed out. He heard Casket's snort of amusement, but ignored it. He thought it was pretty good for an off-the-cuff name.

"Is he yours?" Porcupine glanced back at him.

Did his scars make him look so old that it was easy to presume he had a teenage son. That was depressing on so many levels.

"He's on loan." Dabi shrugged.

"I asked you a question." Izuku's muffled tone was irritated. "What would you all collectively claiming the streets of Fukuoka achieve? Other than causing disruption to everyone lives, and probably bringing down heavier restrictions in a city that is relatively free of them. I mean, that is why you're all living here, right? Because you believe Hawks is fair."

"Well?" Dabi toyed, grinning at Porcupine. "You gonna answer my brat?"

"Hawks is nothing more than a figurehead, indeed…" Porcupine leapt onto a crate, pointing down to Dabi. "We all saw it at the Ranking. He is being upheld and lorded as All-Might's successor. Can we truly allow ourselves to continue to be curtailed by these agents of the state, these oppressors?" Porcupine slapped a hand to his chest. "I suffered years in Tartarus. I know firsthand the agony of isolation, of being separated from family, from our community—"

Izuku's dagger slammed down, piecing the crate Porcupine stood on.

Dabi blinked.

Well—

Okay—

"You're full of shite." Izuku snapped.

"And it is easy to judge from an ivory tower, boy." Porcupine looked up with a leer.

Dabi cackled. "He's got you there, Foglamp." He lazily approached the crate Porcupine stood up, snatching up Izuku's dagger and with a swift flick, he held it against the elder villain's throat.

"Go ahead, fuck with Hawks, murder a few dozen civilians, and see for yourself the reason why he's being hailed a rising symbol of peace."

Porcupine grinned. "Is that permission?"

"Permission to die. Yes. It is." Dabi flung the knife back up into the air, and it thudded against the rafter, just below Izuku. "Come on, brat, bedtime for you."

Laughter filled the warehouse as Izuku protested loudly.

00000

Izuku sat on the bonnet of Dabi's sleek, gorgeous red convertible, which stood out like a giant red flag in the dirty, grungy streets of the warehouse district. He yawned and rubbed at his eyes. A tiny little piece of him regretted not sleeping, because he just knew he was going to have a full day shift at the agency.

Was this why heroes ended up addicted to caffeine?

He needed to start drinking coffee.

Oh—oh no—it was beginning.

He was turning into Hawks.

Izuku covered his face. "Soon I'll be complaining about my knees."

He heard Dabi's laugh. "The way you're going, that's a guarantee."

Izuku looked up. Dabi was smoking his second cigarette, leaning up against the dulled light of the only streetlamp in the whole dark, lonely street of very spooky warehouses. Izuku's neck crawled. He'd have hated coming to this place alone. It felt—ancient—and heavy—like a presence was settled over the whole area and it weighed it down like an unseen fog. It almost made him believe in spirits and ghosts.

"Dabi…"

"Hm?"

Soft ambers flicked delicately into the air as Dabi released an exhale of smoke.

"Thanks for taking me."

There was a lost, distant look to the villain as he tipped his head up to the dingy lamppost. "I got a little brother; reckon he's about your age."

"Really?" Izuku crawled forward on the car bonnet.

Dabi sighed, tapping out his cigarette. "I think he might be more messed up than I am."

"Oh."

"I was lucky, I got out. I didn't see it as lucky at the time, but, I was." Dabi pulled free another cigarette from his packet, lighting it with a flick of his finger. "I see it in Hawks too, the eyes of someone who didn't escape."

Izuku squared his shoulders. "I'm going to free him."

"Is that so."

"Yes."

Dabi chuckled. "You do that, kiddo. You do that. I mean, you might have to destroy hero society to do it."

"Then that's what I'll do."

"Righteous little firecracker aren't you." Dabi dropped his head back against the lamppost.

"Why did you call me Foglamp. That's so lame." Izuku huffed into his mask.

Dabi motioned to his eyes. "Your eyes, they look like foglamps."

Izuku blinked. "Oh…they do."

"Yup."

"So…does…does this mean I have a villain name."

"Yup."

"Whoa. I have a villain name before I have a hero name. This is so wild." Izuku slapped his hands against the mask he wore.

"Don't tell the bird. He'll kill me."

"It's like a secret identity—"

"Now don't abuse it, kiddo. I'm trusting you."

"I know, I know." Izuku held up a hand. "I'll be good, I promise." He tossed his legs back and forth playfully. "You know, I think I'm beginning to understand how Hawks gets all his information."

"That's good." Dabi eased off the lamppost at the sound of soft footsteps. "That means bringing you wasn't a total waste of time."

Izuku huffed beneath his mask.

Casket emerged between two of the warehouses, slinking out smoothly into the dim, murky light. Izuku repressed a shiver, curling into the collar of his borrowed jacket. While he knew he wasn't in any danger, he still felt itchy, and twitchy in the presence of both Dabi and the slinky woman.

"Sorry for the wait. These are the names of Porcupines sympathisers." Casket handed a slip of paper over to Dabi. "At least from what Fleck could make out."

"Do villains all choose lame names too?" Izuku quipped.

"Shut it, brat." Dabi pointed an ignited finger at him.

"Just saying, I thought it was a hero thing."

Casket laughed, leaping onto the bonnet to join him. She ruffled his hair. "It's easier to keep our personal identities to ourselves if no one really knows who we are. I could be boring office worker for all you know, heh. In that sense, I think we have the better deal than heroes. Gosh, I'd hate to be Hawks. Bleh. Cameras, and lights, and…gross media. No thank you." She flicked at her shimmering bob of blue hair.

"Is what why you decided to become a villain and not a hero?"

Casket looked over at Dabi. "He's so adorable."

"You think that now. He has an on switch and turns him into a little wraith."

"Aww, even more adorable." Casket tipped her head. "But no, sweetie, I kinda like being a boring office worker by day and an occasional badarse bitch at night. Really, that's all it is, just a giant ego boost."

Dabi scoffed.

"Well, okay, so there is the small fact that my quirk is a bit iffy."

"Iffy?" Izuku asked.

Casket flicked out her hands. "I'm on the unfortunate end of the quirk scale. For me to have kids, I'd have to meet someone with the same quirk as me. It's super depressing, so, you know, I…take it out on society, or some shite. This is my therapy. Dressing up in tights and looking super-hot."

"Don't give up, Casket. They'll be out there." Dabi offered. "We'll find them."

"I don't understand?" Izuku looked between them.

"My quirk is a poison quirk, and I can't control it." Casket hoisted herself off the car. "My bodily fluids are all poison. Not everyone will immediately die if they touch what I secrete, but, it can make you pretty sick. A kid like you, it'd keep you bed ridden for a while."

"Whoa…" Izuku's felt a rush of excitement. "That's an amazing quirk."

"Oh, yeah, he gets high off quirks. It's fucking weird." Dabi paused from reading the note.

"That's sweet of you, kid."

"No, it is. I mean, it's sad that you can't…you know…touch people…that must be lonely, but, but you're like, a master assassin." Izuku whispered the last two words in reverence.

Casket laughed. "I like this brat, where did you find him?"

"You wouldn't believe me." Dabi muttered.

Casket lent towards Dabi, peering at the note in his hand. "You worried about any of them, want me to take any of them out for you?"

"I can deal with my own problems."

"I'm just saying, I'm a master assassin." Casket fluttered her jewelled eyelids.

"Great, now look what you've done, brat, you've stroked her huge ego." Dabi grumbled. "Greaseball. He's most likely to act up, but, I don't think we need to move on it." Dabi headed around the car, swinging himself into his seat. "Hawks is more than capable. I'm not doing his work for him. I don't get paid by the state to clean up the trash."

Casket laughed. "True that." She pressed a kiss to Dabi's cheek. "I'll see you around, hot-shot!" She skipped away.

Dabi rolled his eyes.

Izuku grabbed his arm. "She kissed you!"

"Yeah? It's what adults do, kid."

"No, her quirk!"

"Oh, no, no. Her lipstick, it's designed as a protective barrier against her saliva. It lets her have some semblance of a normal life, relatively speaking." Dabi assured.

Izuku sunk back in his seat as Dabi started the car. "Are all villains like you guys? Do you all have quirks that are difficult to deal with?"

Dabi shook his head. "Like Casket said. She could be an officer worker. I don't know. What made her decide to put on a mask and come to villains anonymous would be anyone's guess, it isn't always about the quirk."

"What else could it be?"

"Kid, humans haven't changed in thousands of fucking years. We still seek one thing exclusively above all else…"

Izuku frowned in confusion. "What?"

"Community."

0000

Really, they should have just gone to one of the rooms in the lodge. After all, that's what the lodge was for—sleeping in—

The fact that it was almost midnight and he was carrying a quilt back to his office was an annoying reminder that he'd overclocked himself and was regrowing his wings. Usually, they wouldn't have bothered with a blanket, and just rolled up together in a ball of feathers. He nudged his office door open with his shoulder and stepped back in, clipping it shut and locking it. Rilo sat on the couch, huddle in one of his jackets. It was amusing that her quirk could generate enormous amounts of power, but that did utterly nothing to her own body temperature.

He chuckled at her pout. "Yeah, we probably should have given this a little more thought."

Rilo shook her head. "Nah, I think we're at our best when we're spontaneously in the moment."

"Oh, really?" He flung the quilt over her and thumped down on the couch. Rilo popped her head out. She climbed back onto his lap, and he wrapped them both up, dropping them down together to curl up tight.

"Hm mh…" Rilo's fingers brushed attentively through his hair, and he closed his eyes. "You're always the man with a plan, always trying to think three steps ahead of everyone…that's exhausting."

"Hm. It is." He murmured.

"So," she whispered. "Spontaneity, living in the moment, holding onto a single hour…that makes you very, very happy."

He smirked. "You know, I really, really wanted to take you to the Cherry Blossom Festival…but…we missed it." He opened his eyes.

Rilo brushed his arm. "Next year."

He breathed in. What was wonderful was the idea that there would be a next year. The woman tangled up beside him would still be beside him. She wasn't going to fade away in the sunset, or burst apart and vaporise like a broken, shattered lightbulb.

He propped himself up on an elbow. "I hadn't really…honestly…thought past this point, you know. I mean. I know we talked about it a lot, but I hadn't let myself hold it tightly." Keigo let his fingers drift through her hair. "And now it feels surreal and I sort of don't know what to do with myself."

"Or with me?"

He glanced down at her. "Oh no, no, I know exactly what to do with you."

Rilo immediately went bright pink. "Keigo!"

"I'm just stipulating that at least I'm not fumbling around like when we first started out."

She puffed out her cheeks. "I thought it was all good fun."

"Not saying it wasn't." He pressed his nose to hers. "And thanks to all that, I'm now pretty sure I know every spot that makes you glow neon pink."

"You know, considering how much you really hate the pink apartment, I'm shocked you like pink on me."

"There is a vast difference between ghastly pink wallpaper and pink carpet, and pink furniture, and pink appliances and the ability to turn your wife pink." Keigo mocked.

She giggled. "Okay. Okay. I get it." Rilo shuffled about, rolling around and snuggling deeper into the blanket.

Keigo's hands drifted over her back. It was an action he must have taken hundreds of times before, a motion of comfort for them both, but now, it almost meant more. The mod-hancer was gone. He'd become accustomed to it's presence, to avoiding it, to being anxious about jostling it or hurting her due its position.

A tiny—

A very tiny part of him—

Was glad he hadn't witnessed its removal.

He wasn't entirely sure if he'd have actually coped.

All that remained were scars. Skin that did not glow. Keigo brushed his fingers across the marred, raised wounds.

"Are you hurting at all?"

Rilo lifted a hand to brush at the back of her neck. "Sometimes my neck aches, but I don't think it's anything serious."

He'd keep an eye on it, at least. It might not have been anything, but, he wasn't the sort to believe that they'd get out of this entirely free of repercussions. He pressed his lips to the spot and she giggled.

"Goose."

"Duck," he mumbled back.

"Keigo…"

"Hm?"

"Do you…do you promise to get my feather back?" She tensed up, and he loathed to think of where her mind went in that brief moment.

"I do." He brushed his hand against her bare waist. "Just, let things calm down a bit, and then, I promise, the man who took it will regret every fucking decision he ever made."

Her nails dug into the skin of his arm. "Thank you," she whispered.

0000

Keigo glanced up from his computer, watching through the dim lights cast by the single lamp in the corner of his office, and the outside glow of the city nightlife, Rilo slowly stir from her curled up state on the couch.

Her aura shine brightened, casting away the darkness as she sat up, the blanket he'd flung over her falling away. Without the mod-hancer eating at her quirk, the internal pattern of energy that constantly flowed beneath her skin had become almost nebular like in its splendour, continually shifting and swirling depending on the pressure applied to her skin. It was addictive to hold her, as his touch alone caused a plasma ball like reaction that made the little boy in him a little bit to amused.

Thankfully, he had some self-restraint.

"Oh…gosh…" Rilo rubbed at her face. "Did we fall asleep?"

"Hm mh." Keigo sipped his coffee.

Well—if sleep counted for about an hour, until he realised he had to pee. So, maybe he'd slept for a bit, but now he was drinking coffee. Genius idea that.

"You're right, this is a very comfortable couch." Rilo bounced on it.

He smirked behind his coffee mug. "Glad you approve."

Rilo gathered the blanket around herself, trotting over to join him. She slumped over his back. "What are you doing?"

"Something extremely humiliating."

She brushed her fingers through his hair, and he curled his toes at the delightful static buzz that eased the ache in his wing junctions.

"You're not easily humiliated, Keigo."

"Just because I can perform amazing sex with you, doesn't mean I'm infallible."

She scoffed at him.

Keigo pouted. "You know, I get embarrassed too."

She sat herself down on his desk and hooked a knee under her chin, smiling at him. "I know, but it's really charming when you do, cause you get all cute about it."

"Cute?"

She nodded. "Super cute."

"Well, now I'm very self-conscious, thanks." He drawled out.

"You're most welcome." She grinned. "So, what humiliating thing are you forcing on yourself?"

Keigo arched an eyebrow. "I'm booking a plane flight to Musutafu."

The tint of her skin turned a softer yellow as her amusement shone bright.

"Oh, gee, wow, thank you for the support, babe." He thumped back in his chair, making it creak.

"I need photos."

"Shut up."

"Photos, Keigo."

"Fuck you."

She squealed out laughter as he tackled her, dragging her onto the ground to pin her. "How dare you relish in my pain."

"Oh, no, poor baby, taking a plane." Rilo made a duckie face. "So humiliating."

"Fucking tease." He urged her into a kiss, pulling the yellow glow from her cheeks, bringing out a softer pink tinge. The tingling sensation of her fingers against his overly sensitive back was almost too stimulating. He arched away, giving a shake of his head as he chuckled low in his chest.

"Oh, no, no. Fuck."

"To much, too soon?" Rilo whispered.

He laughed at the oh-so-familiar words. He dropped over her, smiling as she twisted her hands around his neck. "Hell no, I will take everything you've got, whenever."

"What about wherever."

He tipped his head. "Nah, see, that's how we end up in one of your beloved trashy hero magazines, babe."

Rilo giggled. "For shame."

He kissed her nose. His lips tingled at the electric warmth she radiated.

Oh—

He could lose himself in the magnetic field for days, he was sure of it.

"Rilo…" he murmured. "Am I enough?"

She cradled his cheeks. "What you are, Mr. Hero, is really tired."

He sighed, nestling himself down against her chest. "That's true. I am."

"I miss your wings." Rilo soothed his back, her fingers playing with his wing-links idly.

"I like your boobs."

"Keigo!" She glared down at him.

"What? They're very comfortable." He'd almost say they were better than the couch.

"So…I'm a refuelling station and a pillow."

He laughed, recalling the time he'd been so against her using that term for herself. How fascinating that he'd grown at ease with the concept over time. Was that just how quirk compatibility worked? He tightened his arms around her. "And you're all mine. My pillow."

"Okay. Go to sleep. You're doing that thing where you get weird and delirious from exhaustion."

Keigo smiled against her soft skin. "Well, it's better than philosophical and depressed, right?"

"I love all of you, Keigo. Every facet."

And he really did believe her.