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“It’s Friday already?” Keigo asked, a whine in his voice as he flopped onto his bed to watch Touya stuff clothes into his bag for the weekend. Touya snorted, throwing Keigo an amused look over his shoulder.
“It has indeed been seven days since last Friday, so that’s correct. Shocking, I know.”
“You don’t have to be mean about it!”
Touya laughed, and Keigo’s wings puffed up as he pouted. Touya scooted back, leaning over to peck Keigo’s frowning lips. When he pulled away, Keigo stubbornly kept pouting, so Touya kissed him again, and again, and then one more time before Keigo cracked and started laughing.
“It’s fine, pretty bird,” Touya said, turning back to his half-packed bag. “I’ll be back on Monday, before you even miss me.”
“But what if I already miss you?”
“Then I’d have to go to the medical wing and ask who hit me with an invisibility quirk.”
Keigo huffed in amusement, relenting and sending over a few feathers to help Touya finish packing within moments. “There,” he said with a tone of finality, pulling himself from his splayed position in his nest of blankets to drape himself over Touya’s back. “Done packing. Now you have to spend time with me until it’s time to leave.”
Touya chuckled, tilting his head to the side so Keigo could hook his chin over his shoulder. The older teen reached up to run his fingers through Keigo’s feathery hair, earning a soft coo. “Sure, birdie. What else am I gonna do?”
“You could show a little enthusiasm, at least,” Keigo muttered sourly.
Touya snorted, and craned his neck awkwardly to catch Keigo’s lips in a soft and sweet kiss. “There,” he said. “Enthusiastic enough?”
“Mm,” Keigo hummed, smiling mischievously. “You could do better.”
He drifted in and out of consciousness, unsure of anything except the excruciating, white-hot pain that seared through his body.
His skin felt tight and cracked and dry, and he could barely register the words of someone in a white coat asking him questions. He opened his mouth, trying to scrounge up an answer to a question he couldn’t quite process, but his throat was scratchy and he did manage to produce more than a pained cough.
“-d.”
Who was talking to him?
“-id?”
Where was he?
“Kid!”
And who-
“Hey, kid! Come on, don’t give out on me now. Wait for the pain killer to kick in, you’ll feel better.”
Who…
“Can you speak? You got a name for me?”
Who was he?
Keigo wrung his hands together, hesitantly weighing his words as he stood in front of his handler.
“Well?” he asked, raising a brow and crossing his arms. Keigo fidgeted. “What do you want?”
“Is, uh…” Keigo shriveled up underneath his handler’s harsh stare - he knew he wasn’t supposed to act like this, awkward and meek. Hawks was supposed to be charismatic and confident, but he couldn’t quite find it within himself to call up the persona. “Is Touya coming back? Supernova? He usually comes back Monday morning, and it’s Wednesday, so I just wanted to ask…”
There was a beat of silence, and Keigo’s eyes flicked up to meet his handler’s gaze. “Todoroki is no longer part of the Legacy program. His belongings will be removed from your dorm within the week.”
Keigo felt his mouth hang slightly agape as he processed the words, running them over and over again in his mind. “He’s not coming back?”
“No. Todoroki died in an accident on Saturday.”
Keigo’s stomach dropped to the floor, and his brain felt like it was made of feathers, light and floaty, like nothing was quite real. “Touya’s dead?” His voice sounded distant and foggy.
“Yes. We are aware you two were close, however, and you have been allotted a day off to attend his funeral and grieve.”
Touya… wasn’t coming back.
Touya wasn’t coming back.
Touya wasn’t coming back.
Keigo didn’t register his handler patting his shoulder and telling him to go to the canteen for dinner as he walked off, he didn’t register the hallway slowly darkening as the sun set, he didn’t register the dull ache of his legs that came from standing in the same position for far too long.
Touya was dead.
Keigo kept his hands firmly clasped behind his back, tucking his wings in close to avoid garnering more attention than he already had. There was a trio of white-haired children with spatterings of red, two of which were crying inconsolably, the oldest trying to calm her siblings.
Fuyumi seemed nice, Keigo thought absently, remembering Touya’s ramblings about his siblings.
They had all looked at him at some point or another, but never for long, and none of them approached him.
Keigo stood quiet throughout the service, doing his best to not let any emotion show visibly on his face, painfully aware of the presence of his handler just over his shoulder. He stood silent and still as the other Todoroki children said their tearful goodbyes over Touya’s grave, watching with sharp eyes as they departed not long after. They were herded away by a nanny, neither Endeavor nor their mother present.
Keigo didn’t move for a few minutes longer, staring hopelessly at the tombstone. Maybe if he didn’t approach it, it wouldn’t be real. Maybe if he couldn’t read the name and date of death on it, it wouldn’t be real. Maybe if he couldn’t see Touya was dead, he could pretend that Keigo hadn’t died with him.
His handler gave a small, impatient huff from behind him. A purposeful action to tell Keigo to stop wasting his time. He took a few jerky steps forward, making his way towards Touya’s grave with hesitance.
He crouched in front of the new and polished stone, gently laying down the white rose he’d clutched within his grip throughout the whole funeral. The single stem was almost drowned out by the bouquets piled in front of the grave, but Keigo hoped Touya would appreciate it nonetheless.
The cemetery wasn’t completely quiet, Keigo could still hear the cars on the road and the quiet talking of families visiting other graves. He wrapped his arms around his knees, taking in a shaky breath to try and calm himself, though it didn’t do much. His mind still felt muddled and light.
Touya was gone.
Keigo didn’t know what to do without him. Who was Keigo, really, without Touya?
He was Hawks to everyone else. Keigo would chirp when Touya brushed his fingers through rumpled feathers, Hawks would laugh and shake off any assistance with an easy smile. Keigo would curl around Touya in his nest of blankets and fall asleep slowly as Touya hummed some pop song he’d never heard, Keigo would whine at Touya whenever he stole food off his plate, Keigo would puff up and flutter his wings whenever Touya complimented him and ruffled his hair.
Hawks was none of that. Hawks wasn’t Keigo without Touya.
Keigo reached out and ran his fingers lightly over the engraved kanji of Touya’s name. Such an action was useless, so he wasn’t quite sure why he’d done so. His breathing hitched, and he quickly held his breath to keep himself from making more noise. His handler was watching, and even if he was allotted this one day to grieve, his deep attachment would doubtlessly be taken note of.
Still.
Keigo pressed his fingers to his lips, and then pressed them against Touya’s name.
“I love you,” he said, so quietly he almost didn’t hear himself.
“Hawks.” His handler’s voice was stern behind him, and he felt his shoulders draw back instinctively. “Are you done here?”
He stood up and turned to face his handler with the best neutral expression he could muster. “Yessir.”
Keigo entered the cemetery, and Hawks walked out.
Dabi was immediately skeptical when he met Hawks for the first time.
Something about the way he acted felt distinctly wrong, although he couldn’t place why - even with his missing memory, he was fairly certain he’d never met the hero before. Something odd would flash through Hawks’ gaze whenever he saw Dabi use his flames.
Hawks fascinated Dabi, in an odd sort of fashion. The way he’d chirp when Dabi ran his fingers through red feathers on a whim, Hawks’ hands immediately clapped over his mouth, looking shocked at the noise. He’d patted Hawks’ head once, as a sort of joke, and the bird had fluffed up and fluttered his wings.
The face he’d made when Dabi asked if it was a weird bird courting thing was certainly something to be treasured.
The dynamic they’d fallen into came almost too easily, their relationship slotting into place with a smoothness Dabi hadn’t expected. He’d grown to like Hawks, despite the way he often acted, setting off alarms in the back of his head for indiscernible reasons.
It was odd, he supposed.
Flirtatious remarks came easily, nicknames slipping from his lips before he could even think about them, moving around Hawks’ wings naturally, as if he’d dodged them his whole life.
Weird.
He’d never met Hawks before.