Chapter Text
Four weeks later
The warder gritted his teeth.
He had to wait weeks for an opportunity to deliver the next message he had been paid for - and the anonymous pro-villain had had the audacity to threaten him, him , to not pay the rest of the transaction if he didn’t deliver soon. Didn’t the pompous little cockroach know it was not easy to sneak intels into the Tartarus ?! Didn’t he know the warder had connexions - namely his uncle - and could easily throw the pro-villain to the police ?
Well, now that he had accepted a first bribe and violated the rules, the warder would be affected too, so he wouldn’t, but still. He was totally superior to that jackass pro-villain and deserved more respect !
But he deserved the newest intelligent watch too, and to get it, he needed the money.
He waited for a moment in which no one should be in Blondie and Burnt Shit’s aisle,started a loop of ten minutes on the cameras that would risk showing him, grabbed an electronic pass for the floor and pounced.
This time, he started with Burnt Shit. He’d get it over with quickly. Plus, given how the little psycho had acted the last time he had seen her, the warder would have bet she’d started making a scene again, and he needed to be cautious and flee quickly.
Through the peephole, the warder saw Dabi lying on his mat again, like the stupid emo he was.
“Hey, Zombie boy. Your little admirer wants you to know the HPSC have been sentenced to life in prison with no possibility of remission, and since the trial was broadcasted live, everybody got to hear Hawks’ pity story. He’s back in the public’s good graces.”
“What the fuck didn’t you understand in : don’t bother me if it’s not about Endeavor.” The scarred man said flatly, still not looking at the warder, again .
The jailer gritted his teeth, but refrained from biting back. Not that he was intimidated ! That patchwork of a dude was totally beneath him. But the warder had better - prettier - matter to attend to. “Whatever you say, freak.”
He headed to the last cell on the left wall.
Toga was sitting, facing away from the door, mumbling to herself about traitors and revenge or whatever.
Urgh.
“Hey Nutjob.”
The blond head spinned, looking at the door. She couldn’t see him through the peephole, but focus snapped on her pretty face. She crawled closer. “You’re the same man from the other time, aren’t you ?” She asked lowly. “The one who told me about Hawks.”
Oh, she remembered him. He liked that.
He puffed his chest. “Yeah. I might have some other news for you, sweetheart.”
“You talked about a trial, is it over ? Is it-”
“Why don’t you shut your trap and let me tell you what I’m willing to tell you, huh ?”
He distinctly saw her greet her teeth, a growl forming in the back of her dainty throat, but she stopped her blabbering.
The warder remained silent for a moment, just because he could.
This right now, this was right.
The girl would know only what he’d decide, when he’d decided so, because he was the boss there. He regretted she was wearing a straightjacket; if she had only been cuffed like most inmates, he would have ordered her to give him a little something in exchange for the information. Like show him her boobs or her ass. But restrained as she was, she’d just be able to wiggle.
Oh, that might be fun, to see her pathetic body squirm like a slutty worm for him on the floor.
Hm, he didn’t have much time left though- maybe next time.
“That’s right, princess. You know your place. Little girls like you should let men do the talking.” He waited a few seconds more. “The trial’s been over for a few weeks now, and the HPSC is gonna rot in jail without any chance to bargain.”
“What about Hawks?”
Urgh, that dumb bitch - hadn’t she heard what he had just said about not asking questions ?! He had to tell her eventually, if he wanted to be paid, but Blondie didn’t know that.
“The trial turned most people’s view on him, and now he’s considered a victim of the HPSC. He even got a proposition to teach at UA. He starts today, actually.”
“What?!”
Annnnnd here came the distorted face. Yuck.
“That’s not fair ! He’s not a victim ! Twice is a victim ! And Hawks got away with that ?! No ! NO! NO !!”
She screamed and trashed and pulled on her chains, looking like an ugly maniac. Well, she totally was a maniac, but at least, she was easy on the eyes usually.
This was the warder’s cue to leave: he had played his part so he’d get paid, and there was no more eye-candy to hold him back.
As he left, Toga’s raged cries echoing throughout the whole floor, he started thinking. Hm. Maybe he should dwell on a bit longer, next time, to have more time before she’d turn all blotchy and red and disgusting.
***
Keigo was not nervous.
He had debated wearing what used to be his hero costume or just a plain white shirt and a necktie.
The Principal and Aizawa had explained to him that usually, the teachers were to sport their combat costumes; however, since he was more or less retired, he had been given the option of simple formal clothes, as All Might had had the choice.
He knew most people would be excited beyond limits to work with the All-Might, but Keigo wasn’t particularly thrilled. Maybe it had to do with his personal preference going to…
Nope, not starting to get this shit now. He already had enough on his plate.
But he was not nervous.
Not at all.
He had faced too many deadly villains to count, a Commission that wasn’t far from evil, evil itself in the form of blue flames and stitched burnt skin, the uttermost outcasting and the loss of his wings -
He wouldn’t be intimidated by a bunch of teenagers.
Okay, maybe he was a tiny-bit jittery because he was thrown in something he had no fucking clue how to handle but hey, that didn’t changed much from his ops back in the Hero slash spy business.
Eventually, he had settled for his costume.
He glanced at the little clock; he’d have to leave soon.
He pulled some raw meat from his fridge and gobbled it up, brushed his teeth and then took his satchel.
The Fukuoka-Musutafu flight didn’t take him long, but hey, that was to be expected from someone a little too fast.
Just before landing, he remembered Aizawa’s advice to avoid the main entrance, where most students and reporters would be. Ever since UA had officially announced the former number two was joining its staff, journalists had gone into a frenzy. Not as much as they had for All-Might, but pretty close, he’d say.
Aizawa and another person - looking like a humanoid block of cement - were waiting for him on the roof.
“You’re early.” Aizawa said instead of greeting.
“What else were you expecting ? Also, hello to you too.”
“Welcome, Takami-san.” The humanoid had a calm, soothing voice, extending a grey palm. “I am Cementoss, the former literary teacher. I have no doubts you’ll excel as the new one, but if you ever have any questions, feel free to find me.”
“Pleasure to meet you.” Keigo shook their hand - it was cool and gravel-y. “And thanks for the welcoming ! It’s nice to see someone who doesn’t look like a grumpy caterpillar.”
“I won’t even dignify that with an answer.” Eraserhead grumbled. “Did you read the memo?”
“Nope.”
Well, it was half a lie - he had opened and browsed through it.
Aizawa shot him a dirty glare but didn’t comment further. “You start with class 2-A, you know some of them.”
“Oh yeah ! It’s Tokoyami’s class, right?”
“Exactly.” Cementos confirmed. “We’ll escort you to the classroom, however, the students will arrive soon. ”
As they came to the room, Keigo kept shooting curious glances here and there, head slightly cocked to the side. This was the first time he stepped in a classroom. His paranoid progenitor had forbidden him to get outside, meaning he wouldn’t attend school and had to settle for his mother’s attempts to teach him the most basic of educational stuff; and after that, there had been the program, which was less… accommodating.
Welp, there was a first time for anything, he guessed.
The two other teachers left soon after showing him the room.
Keigo tapped his foot on the ground. Waiting for the kids to come behind the desk felt weird. He needed to do something in the short meantime - ah, too bad he hadn’t thought about arriving earlier, he would have explored the school a little.
A feather was sent to his satchel, retrieving the can of Georgia Max Coffee he had plopped into the bag earlier. He went in the corridor after leaving another feather in the room, just in case.
As he sipped his drink - sugar with coffee, Best Jeanist had once called it flatly - he sensed through his feather the room was getting more and more filled in progressively. No one crossed his path during the three or four minutes it took before the bell rang a first time. Maybe Keigo had just gone to a farther corner, or maybe the kids just prefered to chill in the classroom directly; for whatever reason, he didn’t see any students. He looked at the sky by the window. The building was a decent height, and the level he was on allowed a correct view. Keigo could work with that.
The second bell rang.
It was time to go.
He strolled up to the huge door of the class - his class - and inside. The students hushed as soon as he entered.
Some of the faces were familiar - Tokoyami, Shinso who looked a little bit unfazed, Midoriya and Bakugo although they weren’t talking to each other and, in the group surrounding Deku, the youngest Todoroki son. He didn’t miss the quick glances thrown at him nor the excited whispers - the most obnoxious coming from Midoriya, which was a little weird since the teen had already worked with Keigo. The blond guessed that was what Tokoyami meant when he described the freckled boy as very passionate about Heroes.
As he placed himself behind the desk, Keigo unfolded his wings and spread them wide, just for that bit of drama. He offered a lazy grin and a two-fingers salute.
“Hi ducklings, and welcome to UA ! Or maybe welcome to me since I’m the new one here, and you’re all familiar with the school. I’ll be the new literature teacher of the heroic course - if that surprises you, you’re not the only one, I’m the first taken aback.”
A page of paper with the names of the students waited on the desk - right, Aizawa had told him about that.
“Let’s start by making sure you’re all there, then go through the program… I guess? Yeah, that sounds like a good start. But before that, does any one of you have any questions?”
A girl with a round face and pink cheeks raised her hand shyly.
“Takami-Sensei, will you take part in hero practice as well or stick to literature?”
The name cringed Keigo so much he almost grimaced.
Takami. Sounded too much like his progenitor.
“It’s possible, if your homeroom teacher deems it’s necessary but between us, I think Aizawa would rather choke on his own fist.” He grinned cheerily, noting some of the students giggling “Also, please don’t call me Takami-Sensei, it makes me like thirty years older.”
There, a convenient excuse.
“Sir !” Another student with glasses shouted, his arm moving quick and jerky. “Please excuse my interruption, but how should we call you instead?”
That was a good question.
Takami was definitely not happening. He couldn’t ask for Keigo as he had done since his retirement; Aizawa had lectured him enough on the need to establish a distance with the students, especially since the blond wasn’t much older than them, yada yada.
He didn’t want to be the son of his father, and he couldn’t be his casual, out-of work self.
Then he got it.
He wanted to be someone making amends, someone who protected others and helped to make the world an easier place.
He grinned.
“You can call me Hawks.”