Chapter Text
"What are you willing to lose?
You cover your wounds, but underneath them
A million voices in your head that whisper, "Stop, now"
Another twist of the knife, turn of the screws
It's all in your mind and it's fighting you
Arm yourself, a storm is coming
Well, kid, what you gonna do now?
It's your reflection looking back to pull you down"
Phoenix
***
***
The living room was quiet. Which wasn’t surprising for three reasons: one, it was starting to be late; two, the rules about UA’s dorm were very strict about noise policy; and three, Keigo couldn’t imagine Aizawa’s place to be anything but quiet.
He stretched his back and wings, shuffling on the couch, and glanced at the screen of his phone. As if on cue, he heard keys jiggling softly and someone opening the door slowly. Keigo didn’t take his eyes from the book he was reading and just waited for the tired steps to get closer before stopping.
“Annnd he’s alive.”
“You can leave now, Keigo.” Aizawa said blankly.
“Aw, and here I thought we had something special.”
The teacher didn’t even glance as he went to the fridge and merely rolled his eyes.
“You’re insufferable.”
It wasn’t a real flirt; he sure as Hell wasn’t attracted to Aizawa in that way. Aizawa knew that. Keigo knew Aizawa knew. But Keigo enjoyed too much messing with the people whose company he enjoyed to drop it.
And he had to admit, the faces Eraserhead made were priceless.
The blond put his book aside, hopped on his feet and smirked like the brat he could be.
“Maybe, but I’m the best Eri-sitter you’ve ever had.”
“Mirio was the best; you’re the most convenient since you just laze around.” The teacher corrected without heat while taking a carton of soup and a mug.
He poured the liquid and started sipping it without even heating it first. Keigo’s nose wrinkled in disgust. But well. He wasn’t about to criticise. He had strange eating habits himself, after all : his urges to sometimes eat raw meat might be a result of his quirk, it was frightening and gross for normal people and if the public ever found out, no one would see him as Hero. The blond remembered vividly the scoldings from his handlers when they caught him red-handed with uncooked chicken.
Ever since Aizawa helped him gain back his wings a month ago - resulting in Keigo coming at his house every so often to look after Eri when the teacher couldn’t - the blond had grown to appreciate the stern man. Keigo had once wondered if Aizawa and himself could be considered as friends, but had quickly shut the idea down. Keigo was… not a good friend. Unworthy of any friendship.
The vision of a betrayed bluish glaze beneath a shredded black mask surged in Keigo’s brain, so strong it hurt him.
“Anyway, is Eri already sleeping?”
Eraserhead’s voice drew Keigo out of his spiraling thoughts, back to present. The former Hero blinked rapidly, getting back to the here and now.
“Yes, she's been for an hour, an hour and half.” His wings relaxed a bit - he had not noticed they had tensed in the last few seconds. “You’re coming back later these days. She’s too much of a sweet cookie to complain, but I can tell she’s a bit sad you don’t put her to bed anymore.”
Keigo had been occasionally watching over the little girl for weeks now. She was a good kid, and he didn’t like seeing her try to hide her sulking. She had been deprived of a family for too long. Couldn’t Aizawa see she missed him?
But maybe it was hitting too close to the chest for the blond to be unbiased; and everybody with two eyes could see Eraserhead cared about Eri like his own daughter.
“Yeah, I know…” Aizawa sighed after chunking down the rest of the cold soup “School year is going to start soon and there’s a transfer of a student from General Department to Hero Course. The kid has potential but he’s going to be behind his classmates, since he won’t have as much experience as them.”
Keigo’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. UA could really switch a student from one class to the other so easily ?
Mh. Maybe if the homeroom teacher of said class asked personally.
“So what, you’ve been training him in your spare time so he won’t be as disadvantaged ?” Aizawa pointedly avoided answering, prompting the younger man to grin. “Aw. You look all stark and stern but you’re a real papa bear hu?”
The professor just looked at him flatly, and it made Keigo smile - although it was a bit of a sad smile. It reminded him of what felt like a lifetime ago, when Endeavor would scowl or look unimpressed at something the blond had said.
No. Keigo didn’t want to think about that.
He didn’t want to get back to his apartment either. He couldn’t spend a lot of time there before, back when he was a Pro. He really had started to actually live there four months ago, after the battle against the Front and the loss of his wings - when he had become useless and couldn’t be required for missions anymore.
Not that people would welcome him if he went there.
His penthouse was more filled with painful memories than good or even neutral ones. Being there alone wasn’t something Keigo looked forward to. More often than not it spurred Episodes that left him a wreck. Faces he couldn’t bear seeing and sensations he never wanted to feel again would pounce on him like hellhounds. The worse, however, was the emotions that crept like the wildfire that had burned him, and would let him blanketed by his wings, entire body like a raw nerve, eyes stinging and the bizarre impression of being numb while feeling too much.
Long story short, not Keigo’s most enjoyable moments and he tried to avoid it as often as he could.
It’s not like he could do much about it. Keigo couldn’t always pester Aizawa’s living room. Besides, it was all the simple consequences of all of Keigo’s shitty choices. He didn’t have the right to complain. He didn’t have the right to ask for help. No matter how much he wanted to escape, he deserved this misery.
A glimpse at Shota’s tired form informed him he should leave. Aizawa hadn’t kicked him out yet, but the bags under his eyes - even darker than usual - were proof enough the other man really needed some sleep.
And to be perfectly honest, there were matters Keigo prefered to dodge for now, and he just knew Aizawa would confront him directly.
Keigo sent a feather to put his book back in his backpack.
“Well” The blond said with a lazy smile “Since you’re here, I should probably go and let you crash in your sleeping bag or something.”
He hadn’t made three steps until the stern voice called him out - and Keigo could totally imagine Eraserhead using the exact same tone toward students trying to fraud.
“Hawks.”
The younger man stopped on the spot and huffed a bit too harshly “I’ve started talking to them, alright ? I went to see Midoriya and Bakugo last week and I thanked them, I just… didn’t have the time for the others. There, happy ?”
“More like you tell yourself you don’t have the time. You’ve been postponing talking to Tokoyami and Endeavor ever since you got your wings back.”
Alright, maybe Keigo was burying his head in the sand and pushing back the time he’d have to talk to the persons he was definitely not ready to talk with. For deeply different reasons each, not that it changed much. Still. He knew he owed both his former idol and intern a thank-you. But being confronted to Tokoyami whom he had disappointed - to Endeavor with whom the situation was so fucking complicated Keigo himself didn’t know what to think about it...
“I’ll do it eventually !” He spat, not unlike a petulant child. “I just… urgh, nevermind.”
Shota glared at him for two whole seconds before letting out a sigh.
“Anyway, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. Maybe you know that since the war, Cementos have to… juggle with subject areas.”
It was both the cautious choice of phrasing and the hint of sorrow carefully hidden on the man’s face that made Keigo understood.
Aizawa was talking about Midnight’s death.
A pang of sympathy shot in the blond’s chest. From what he had understood, the young woman had been a good friend of Aizawa. He remembered seeing her name in the list of the fallen Heroes and Sidekicks the TV had shown shortly after announcing the entirety of the Front had been either captured or defeated - so everybody knew this victory hadn’t been void of a heavy price.
Keigo looked the other man in the eyes, genuine.
“I’m sorry for Midnight.”
“She was great at her job. Both of her jobs. She died doing what she believed in.”
The professor paused, and it was all it took for Keigo to realize Shota was still affected by Midnight’s death.
“Since Cementos also has a licence in Modern Hero Art History, he picked up her course for the rest of the year while still teaching Modern Literature.” Aizawa eventually kept going. “But he can’t keep doing it this year as it is too much work.”
Keigo’s eyebrows scrunched a bit.
“Okay… Er, I’m sorry to disappoint you but I don’t know anyone with Modern Hero Art knowledge.”
“Not very surprising, it’s a subject few people pick seriously. Which is why Cementos have kindly agreed to shift and teach it full-time. But UA needs a new Literature professor.”
“Sorry but I don’t really know anyone and it’s not like I have the winds in the sails lately, so even if I asked I don’t think a lot of people would-”
“You could be the new teacher.”
Amber eyes blinked one, two times.
What the fuck?
“You’re joking, right?”
“Not at all.”
A corner of the ceiling could have fallen right on Keigo’s head and he wouldn’t have been less dumbfounded.
“Wha - does UA want another scandal ? If you’ve forgotten, half of the population think I’m a piece of trash that deserves to go to jail ! Mere months ago, there were videos of me killing a man one every screen of the world !”
This was probably one of the most foolishly fucked-up thing Keigo had heard - and he had heard a lot. What was Aizawa thinking ? What was all of UA’s staff thinking - because he guessed the teacher couldn’t just offer him a position all by himself like that ? Had they gone nuts ? Didn’t they know Keigo hadn’t even been in a real school, ever ? Plus, there was the tiny fact that Keigo deserved the prize for the biggest case of consecutives bad choices in his life. Aizawa had seen his files for fuck’s sake ! He had to know Keigo was a shitty person as well as a shitty former Hero !
Keigo had broken the first rule of Pros - Heroes don’t kill. And to finish it off, he had even lost his quirk ! Granted, he had gotten his wings back thanks to Eri but this was out of pure luck !
Keigo could feel his feathers puffing up in the exact way they did when he was nervous.
“What do you think the parents of your students would say ? What would you even say to the parents ? Oh hey, here’s the new teach, he allegedly killed multiple people but he used to be in the top three so there's no need to worry ? At least half of the country wants to see me out !”
“Shut up. You’ll wake Eri if you keep yelling like a maniac.”
Keugo closed his mouth; he hadn’t realised he had started half shouting. He pressed a hand on his face. He used to have a lot more self control than that. Maybe it was just easier to let out everything as it hit you - Keigo had never been allowed that, before his retirement. Or maybe this whole thing was crazy enough to throw him off.
Aizawa plucked a little pipette from his pocket and dropped two clear beads in his pupils, like he wasn’t bothered at all by the situation.
“It’s just a proposition and you don’t have to accept.” The professor finally said once he was done “But it’d be nice if you took a moment to think about it.”
“It’s all thought : nope.”
“You’ll have to tell that to Principal Nezu when he’ll officially offer you the job.”
“Why did you tell me about it then ?”
“Because the Principal wanted me to test the water first.”
Keigo clicked the piercing on his tongue in annoyance.“Uh. Well tell him the water is icy cold so no need to waste time and paper for this.”
“You don’t know him : he’ll still make an official offer with an invitation and all.”
“Doesn’t he know birds of prey tend to eat little rodents?”
Shota opened his mouth to add something, but Keigo’s phone, sitting innocently on the coffee table, lightened and displayed in bold letters a notification from one of the online journals Keigo had been too lazy to uninstall. Amber eyes fell automatically on it.
The upcoming trial of the Hero Public Safety Commission : what to expect ?
Seeing the name of the Com was - odd. Keigo knew they had been charged and the trial was due in two weeks. Hell, all of the country, maybe even all of the world, knew. This was one gigantic scandal.
And while Keigo hadn’t talked with any of the HPSC’s agents since his little video, he still felt like he somehow depended of them. Processing true free-will was complex, when one has been void of it for their entire life.
The winged man slowly raised his eyes up and away from the screen - another topic he should add on the Let’s Avoid This Shit list - only to meet Aizawa’s. The professor had seen the notification, too.
“Don’t you know it’s not very polite to spy?” Keigo doubted he could waltz off of it with a snarky joke but hey. Have to do with what you got.
“Funny considering you’re the former spy here. Plus it’s not spying when it’s your phone screen up on my table.” A pause. “Have the Commission tried to contact you again?”
“No, not for a while now. Not very surprising, though. By now they probably understood I wouldn’t help them whatsoever. And since I’m not a Hero anymore, they can’t really pressure me.”
While it was true the Commission had progressively ditched him when he had been unofficially deemed useless after the loss of Fierce Wings, Keigo’s video announcing both his break from Hero’s world and his disassociation with the Com had started a shitstorm. Meaning : the press had been stalking him drastically ever since. And if he had succeeded in dodging most of the paparazzi, someone had managed to take a picture of him as he was landing on the balcony of his penthouse.
The picture was blurry, shitty-quality and didn’t show anything scandalous - but his wings were clearly visible. The public hadn’t been informed of what had happened during the fight against the Front, but the HPSC knew. They had been mad at constating the tool they thought to be broken had turned out to be perfectly usable - and perfectly saying them to go fuck themselves. His former handlers and the old Bitch herself had tried to reach out to him, before eventually giving up.
It had been a couple of weeks now that Keigo hadn’t received any phone call. His guess was they were too busy with their upcoming trial.
“Be careful.” Aizawa said cautiously. “Trial or not, the Commission is holding a grudge against you. They’ll try to drag your name in the mud.”
“No need of the Com for that.”
The words had left him before he could think. Maybe it was a bit strange, how Keigo was not bitter with the statement. At least, not at the people insulting him. Hawks had been trash dolled up in gold by the Commission and his own foolish dream. Nothing more than a murderer. Just like his father had been, ironically, with the bonus of a glory based on lies.
Let the people yell and offend. Let them see. Let him suffer. He deserved this. He knew had doubted the Commission long before quitting it, and instead of letting these bastards behind, Keigo had remained leashed to them, like an obedient pet. Had executed the orders even though he didn’t agree with them anymore. Had executed…
You can’t be a bad guy !
How much did Keigo resented himself.
Keigo noticed Aizawa hadn’t moved nor talked for a while. Instead, the other man was just staring at him. His features conveyed something - expectation, the blond realised. Aizawa was waiting for him to unpack his thoughts.
He’d be disappointed then. Keigo wouldn’t talk. Sure he felt like shit, but he refused any relief. He hadn’t given any to the people he had hurt himself.
He pocketed his phone as a feather brought back his bag.
“Oh well. It’s starting to get late and you have pipsqueaks to terrify soon enough, don’t wanna rob you of your beauty sleep.” Shota looked nonplussed as ever, clearly not buying his bullshit, but thankfully, it looked like the professor had chosen to drop the matter. “See ya, Teach.”
“Yeah, yeah. Careful not to run into any pigeons or journalists.”
Keigo offered a toothy grin on the doorstep “Don’t worry, I’ll kick the ass of both.”
He took off. Before starting to fly really high, however, he rounded until he could see Eri’s window.
No trace of light, not even the wary one of a pocket-size lamp. The kid was sleeping.
Reassured, Keigo headed back to his flat.
He didn’t go especially fast, although he could be at his apartment in less than half an hour - less than twenty minutes probably, if he really wanted to. Not like there was anything appealing awaiting him there. The breeze slithering between his feathers, however, was soothing. And being up above, where no one could reach him if Keigo didn’t want to, carried a feeling of safeness.
He thought back about what Aizawa had said.
Exhaling deeply, he dived and jumped back up, just for the thrill of it. He still made sure not to approach too much of the city, not wanting too many people to see him.
Him, a teacher. What a joke. As if he had anything to teach to anyone.
As he approached the familiar form of his building, his avian glaze caught two people ambushed with cameras. The former Hero tsked. When would they understand he could see them from above ? There was no use in trying to hide. Keigo could easily dodge them.
He landed on the balcony of his penthouse with the light sound of rustling wings. They flapped once or twice as he dug for the key in his pocket. He rarely used his front door - there were far fewer people and far less traffic in the air - but he still locked the access on the balcony. Granted, he was on the highest floor of the building, but one could never be too cautious.
He toed his shoes off, threw the bag blindly and shrugged off his sweater. The room was dark and silent. Keigo swallowed and eyed his bed. There was no use in trying to go to sleep now. He’d just lay awake, eyes fixing the ceiling and brain plagued by -
Scarred face twisted in rage, pushing him down.
Features painted in betrayal.
Burned hands gripping his wings, setting them on fire.
Black-covered arms made weaker by sorrow trying to attack him.
His own hands dripping red with the blood of the first person he had seen as a friend in a long time.
Keigo took a step back, wavering, a hand shooting at his face. No, no, no. Not again. He had to stop the flashes from surging or else they’d swallow him whole and -
The tiny feather he always left in the corridor sensed an unusual variation. Someone was at his door.
Honey eyes blinked. Taking deep breaths, the young man focused and forced himself to calm down. Slowly, he felt the hellhound retreating, the Episode furling back on itself.
Okay, Keigo got this.
He approached his door, suspicious. It was late. Except for Aizawa and Eri, he didn’t have a lot of social exchanges - and even then, it was always the winged man going to their location near the UA dorms, never them coming to his apartment. Mirko ? No, she would have texted him. At the last minute, but still. Besides, by now, Keigo could recognise the tell-tale signals when it was her that his feathers sensed.
By the vibrations, he could tell there was only one person in the corridor.
A knock on his door.
Keigo took one of his long feathers out ; it sharpened instantly. While all the members of the Front had been arrested and sent to Tartarus, there were still plenty of lower-ranked villains out, and a lot of them had been enraged at the Front’s defeat. Since the records of the HPSC had been made public, everybody knew Hawks had been a double agent and had played a major role in the Front’s downfall.
One of Shigaraki’s admirers coming to kill him didn’t seem too far-fetched. But then why would the person - even the most polite of all the hitmen in the world - politely knock on the door if they came to murder him ?
Screw it.
“Bit late for a visit, isn’t it?” He said without opening.
The voice of a woman answered from behind the closed door.
“Good evening, Sir. My name is Yuuna Sawabe, chief prosecutor of Tokyo. I am here to talk to you about the trial of the former Hero Public Safety Commission. I need your help to take them down.”