Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The only thing Dabi remembered when he woke up in some back alley dumpster, head spinning and skin half melted off his body, was a handful of names and a few brief flashes of fire.

Not that any of those memories were helpful—he quickly (and painfully) discovered the blue flames that were his quirk, flickering over his hand for no more than a few moments before his what little of his skin that was unmarred began to turn an angry red.

So not only did he have a flame quirk that burned him because his body ran too cold, but it also rendered the memories of flames useless in figuring out who he was. Fantastic.

The names? Shou, Yumi, Nat, and Kei weren’t much to work with.

As soon as he’d checked himself out of the underground clinic that’d helped him staple his face on (and while Dabi might not remember shit, he knew that was super weird), he began trying to figure out who he was, amnesia be damned.

He kept a list of what he knew about himself in his pocket.

Admittedly, most of what he had beyond basic descriptors was speculation, but it was something.

With no legal documentation to his still unknown name, Dabi didn’t have many avenues in life to go. So for the next six or seven years, his main source of income was nothing but petty crime and odd jobs around his neighborhood for the employers who didn’t care about the random teen-twenty-something-year-old not having any form of ID.

His main (only) hobby and pastime was fondly referred to as The Ongoing Investigation Into Who The Fuck Am I?

He was almost on a given name basis with the librarians at the public library a half-hour walk from his dingy apartment. It was nice of them to clarify to the rare hero that bothered to patrol the area that no, despite his appearance (and didn’t that sting?), he was not a villain. He often went over to research new leads or reference a psychology book to figure out whether one of his weird, unexplained habits could mean something.

The way looking at his white hair in the mirror made him tense to the point where he just dyed it red, only to feel on the verge of tears when he looked at it, and then dyed it black? Had people with red or white hair hurt him before? He had no reason he could remember to hate the colors, so he wrote it down.

The way he flinched and hunched in on himself whenever someone raised their voice unexpectedly? Concerning. He wrote it down.

The time he realized that he couldn’t remember anything more than a few months ago that clearly? Brain damage, most likely.

So not only did Dabi have severe amnesia, he also had some sort of problem with his long term memory that he couldn’t figure out the cause of. Did the issue stem from physical or psychological trauma? How did he get covered in severe burns on over half his body, despite the fact that he had to have known how much it hurt his body? (Was the amnesia caused by an incident that gave him a force activated quirk? It would certainly explain a lot)

It’d be nice to not be a walking poster boy for health issues, both physical and mental, but Dabi did his best.

After realizing the growing extent of his memory issues, Dabi switched from just keeping a list of general notes in his pocket to some of those fancy 3-inch binders full of notes, leads, and theories that he had to lug around in a bulky messenger bag.

He was rather proud of himself for keeping the table of contents and index so well organized.

“Hey, you,” Shigaraki interrupted. “You can’t even do what that crazy high school girl was able to do.”

God, Dabi thought, I’d hope not. I have enough mental issues already, I don’t need whatever’s going on with her.

“Give your name first,” the handy-man continued (he literally had a severed hand as some sort of face mask what the fuck he thought that news report was exaggerated). “You’re an adult, right?”

“I currently go by Dabi,” he answered, smoothly stepping around the question of his age after years of experience because fuck he probably was? He looked like an adult, but it’s not like he had facial hair or anything to judge off of because he wasn’t growing any of that any time soon, what if he had just been a really tall ten-year-old? He could barely remember what he was doing in February, but he was pretty sure he was at the end of puberty when he washed up on the streets but he might be remembering wrong oh fuck-

“That’s not what I want to know,” Shigaraki snapped, uncaring and unaware of Dabi’s panicking internal monologue. It was times like that that he was glad his face was fucked up—it was easy to school your expression when it hurt to change, to begin with. “What’s your real name?”

And isn’t that the million yen question?

“I’ll tell you when it’s time,” Dabi said instead. “Anyway,” he continued, ready to move on from the question, “I will carry out the Hero Killer’s will.”

That changed the topic of conversation pretty effectively.

Apparently, becoming one of Japan’s most wanted villains was an excellent way to get the entire internet in theorizing your real identity as well, Dabi was thrilled to discover. He couldn’t figure out why he hadn’t thought of it sooner.

Seven years of chasing leads and hacking databases to no avail, and he’d absolutely ran out of ideas. The internet, on the other hand, was an endless pool of new theories.

Ever since joining the League of Villains, Dabi had been enjoying something of a lifestyle boost. Now, it wasn’t all comfort, but say what you would about All for One getting captured, the man had left bank behind.

Dabi now had a laptop of his own to do his research on, which was mostly a relief due to the fact that he kept popping staples in his wrist when he took notes by hand. Most of his days were spent in the corner of their hideout, dutifully ignoring whatever antics the rest of the League managed to get themselves into each day.

His heart went out for Kurogiri each time he saw the man glance consideringly towards the hard alcohol.

“... The government has been known to cover up unethical experiments in the past, especially ones including children—since the first appearance of quirks, secret government training, and experimental facilities have existed to test the limits of powerful quirks. Dabi has been seen to wield powerful blue flames, easily pulling off feats of both quirk and physical prowess that should be considered impossible to pull off if he had begun a sort of training regime at a normal age—let’s say around twelve.”

Dabi’s lips quirked as he listened to the theory video, hands briefly pausing their constant typing as the voice in his ear kept talking. He turned up the volume of his headphones, clicking over to the tab to check the sources in the video description.

“Going by what normal physical features we can make out on the few close up photos and videos we have of Dabi, I would say that it’s unlikely that he’s older than his late twenties, yet his movements and instincts and quirk abilities speak of experience of almost that many years, supporting the possibility that Dabi could be from one of these experiment or training facilities.”

Dabi paused as the information registered.

Government experiment?

His first instinct was to brush off the notion as ridiculous, but his second train of thought was what if?

Dabi had no clue what the fuck was up with himself, he couldn’t brush off anything.

It was true that he did have an odd sort of muscle memory for how to use his quirk offensively and how to fight, on an almost instinctual level—years of government training?—and that he had an unnatural pain tolerance—experiments without anesthesia?—and that he couldn’t remember shit—memory quirk from a shady government official trying to keep information from leaking?—and he woke up in a back alley—getting rid of the physical evidence by posing it as murder?—and fuck was he a government experiment?

Dabi held his head in his hands while the voice droned on in his ear as the information registered. Was he a government guinea pig? A lab rat? Did he even have parents? Oh god, what if he didn’t even have a name, what if he was just listed in a folder somewhere as nothing more than a number, fuck-

Dabi spent the next three days trying to figure out whether he should just find a way to call the government and ask, before realizing that if he was an escaped government experiment or something then they wouldn’t just tell that to some random stranger on the phone, but he still kind of wanted to try.

He put down ”escaped government experiment???” on his list of Potential identities/reasons why I’m like this.

Dabi knew Hawks was a spy. It was pretty goddamn obvious, the hero wasn’t subtle.

He asked too many probing questions about the rest of the league members and seemed a little too willing to do whatever Dabi asked of him, a little too casual and friendly. Dabi couldn’t explain why the way Hawks acted twisted something in his gut, but it seemed fake and wrong, and he couldn’t figure out why.

For a bird, Hawks was a pretty obvious mole.

But, Dabi reasoned, a mole that he could use.

It was easy enough to reason that Hawks’ purpose was to figure out information on the members of the League, identities, histories, and psych profiles. Dabi felt relatively few qualms about letting Hawks weasel the information out of him; it wasn’t anything you couldn’t find on the internet or in a police database.

No, the reason Dabi continued to encourage Hawks’ probing behavior was because Hawks was smart, and had the resources to conduct an investigation into who Dabi could be that the fire user himself could only dream of.

You didn’t get to be the number two hero at 22 years of age just by running around and stopping crime, no, Hawks’ agency was well known for its investigative prowess, and that was precisely what Dabi was betting on.

He let Hawks into the League, hoping the extended exposure would help Hawks figure out who he was because goddamnit, he was getting desperate.

It didn’t take long at all for conversations about Dabi specifically to come up in their meetings.

“You ever seen those conspiracy theory videos about you?” Hawks asked casually one evening.

Dabi gave an amused huff. “Practically all I watch, not gonna lie. I like them.”

“Any of them right?”

Dabi smirked and shrugged, and Hawks gave a good-natured chuckle in response, not realizing that Dabi was quite literal in the implied meaning of I have no fucking idea.

“You seen the one the hero kids made about you?”

“The what?” Dabi asked, glancing at him. Hawks looked over and gave him an amused grin.

“I’m pretty sure you’re aware of class 1-A, the one you guys attack like every other week?”

“Don’t lump me in Handy McFuck-Face’s obsessions, it’s insulting.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night.” Dabi flicked a small burst of flame at the hero in retaliation, who simply smirked and ducked out of the way as he continued talking. “Todoroki Shouto and Kaminari Denki started a conspiracy theory channel together, and they made a video about you being the Zodiac Killer.”

Dabi had to stop and think about it for a second. “Isn’t the Zodiac Killer some American serial killer from like—the pre-quirk era?”

“Dude had to have died centuries ago unless he had some sort of longevity quirk from before the first registered quirk, and your quirk is blue flames, I’m pretty sure.”

“That aside, they think I’m the Zodiac Killer?”

“Yes.”

Dabi paused, staring at Hawks through narrowed eyes.

“...Show me.”

Hawks beamed and whipped out his phone, taking no more than a few moments to pull up the video and hold it between himself and Dabi, who leaned over to watch the screen.

There was something about the Todoroki kid that just tugged at something in the back of his head, but he brushed it off easy enough. Probably the hair, he remembered the notes he had on the shit reactions he’d had to his own when it was those colors.

The tug in his mind was quickly forgotten when Todoroki and Kaminari started putting up all their evidence on a corkboard, using honest to god red yarn to connect all their points together and-

Holy shit. They had a point. Fuck.

“... It’s well known that Dabi’s quirk is powerful blue flames, yet it is also known that he joined the League of Villains, who were previously sponsored by the supervillain known as All for One before his capture during the Kamino Ward Incident several months ago. Connecting all the ties that link Dabi to the Zodiac Killer, as well as the behavioral ticks that could also link them, it would not be far-fetched to assume that Dabi might have some sort of longevity quirk.”

Dabi was reeling as Kaminari picked up where Todoroki left off.

“He has some hella nasty scars, ones that after asking Recovery Girl, shouldn’t have been survivable assuming they were all received at the same time-”

“-which it is relevant to presume since all seem to be of the same severity, in the same state of healing-”

“-if you can call it that, have you seen the man?”

“-and their relatively uniform manner.”

“Yeah, he had to have gotten fucked up like that all at once right? Can you imagine surviving something like that? It’s clear he didn’t go to a hospital, since one of them probably would have reported getting a patient with that distinct a physical trait by now to help in the police investigation, so clearly, either Dabi has some sorta fucked up turtle quirk that gives him his weird-ass skin and longevity-”

“-or his original quirk was purely a longevity or immortality quirk, allowing him to survive his severe injuries long enough to join with the League of Villains, and potentially receive his famous blue flame quirk from All for One himself.”

Fuck, Dabi thought. Do I have a longevity quirk? I’m pretty sure I’ve had blue flames since long before I joined the League, but I can’t remember shit.

It took him a few moments to notice the video had ended, and that Hawks was staring at him expectantly.

“So?” the bird prodded. “Whatcha think?”

“Fuck man, maybe I am the Zodiac Killer.”

Dabi tried to not let the frustrated aura Hawks gave off at the answer reflect on his own face.

He really hoped Hawks was as clever as he heard because he was so good at keeping his identity a secret that even he didn’t know who the fuck he was.

Dabi was at the end of his fucking rope.

He’d hoped that after almost half a year of being a high profile villain, someone would have figured it out, and don’t get him wrong, a few of them had some pretty convincing evidence (maybe he was an escaped Canadian convict who’d escaped 60 years ago, he didn’t fucking know), but of none of them felt quite right.

He was steadily approaching his third night of no sleep, surviving on nothing but desperation and monster energy drinks as he stared blankly at his lists of theories that he hadn’t ruled out.

-government experiment?
-noumu?
-zodiac killer?
-demon summoned from hell?

Fuck, he needed another energy drink. Or caffeine pills. 5-hour energy.

He stumbled into the main room of the base, barely managing to catch himself on the edge of a table when he tripped over his own feet and fucking ow, he was gonna have to redo that staple in the morning.

Dabi looked up and made eye contact with Shigaraki, who had likely looked over at the sudden noise.

They stared at each other, and it took almost a full ten seconds for Dabi’s sluggish mind to realize that he was the one who usually looked away first, and he was about to when a thought lodged in his mind.

Shigaraki would probably be able to confirm or deny the noumu theory, at the very least.

Dabi was pretty sure someone would have mentioned it if he was a noumu, and he’s pretty sure that he joined the League at some point, but maybe he just imagined that? Could he ask Toga instead? Dabi thought she might’ve been there so maybe he could ask her?

But Shigaraki was right there, and Dabi was running out of patience for his almost decade-long investigation.

He also simultaneously realized that he and Shigaraki had been staring at each other for almost a minute, and he reminded himself to blink.

Fuck it.

“Okay, just to be sure, I’m not a noumu, right?”

Tomura sometimes wondered what he was willing to put up with, and he was fairly sure it wasn’t fucking this.

Dabi had stumbled into the main room, and Tomura had looked over, fully ready to mock the asshole of a Frankenstein’s monster. And then he thought to himself, Dabi looks like shit.

That’s not to say Dabi didn’t always look like shit, but he usually looked more aesthetically like shit, if that were a thing. His casual grace was also gone, and Tomura wanted to bark a laugh as he watched Dabi trip over his own feet.

Then they caught each other’s gazes, and Dabi just stared.

Tomura didn’t exactly look away either, but it became clear after a few seconds that Dabi wasn’t going to look away and Tomura refused to look away first.

Their staring contest carried on for almost a minute, and he could feel his eyes watering painfully from being held open for too long, when Dabi blinked lethargically, almost like a cat. Tomura was glad to give his own eyes relief, and was about to ask what the fuck was wrong with Dabi when the burnt Sasuke started talking.

And Tomura could never stress it enough, nothing could have ever prepared him for the conversation he was about to get into.

“Okay, just to be sure, I’m not a noumu, right?”

Tomura stopped, stared, processed the question, and felt his brain glitch like a fucking Bethesda game.

“I-” he cut himself off, trying to figure out if Dabi was fucking with him or not, and looking at the man, Tomura felt frustration when he couldn’t tell. “What the fuck—no? I’m pretty sure you’re not? Why the fuck are you asking me?”

And at that question, Dabi lets out an exhausted sigh as he begins to cross the room, and it was probably the most expressive sound Tomura had ever heard from him. Throwing himself down on the other side of the coffee table, picking a sluggishly bleeding staple from his ankle as he sat down, and looked at Tomura tiredly.

“I’ve tried figuring this out on my own but I fucking give up,” he grumbled before continuing. “Alright, all cards on the table here,” Dabi says, holding his hands up in a show of peace as Tomura raises an irritated eyebrow, “my memory is pretty fucked up.” And in hindsight, not leaving when Dabi said that was probably when Tomura passed the point of no return. “Probably has something to do with all the burns. Plus the heat stroke, which I assume must’ve happened at some point.”

Yeah, that adds up, Tomura thought, glancing at the bloody staple Dabi was fiddling with. Not for the first time, Tomura idly wondered how the fuck Dabi was still alive as the man kept talking.

“Anyways, basically I have no idea who the fuck I was or what I was doing any more than eight years ago, and like, honestly even a few months back is stretching it. I can remember things starting from eight years ago, albeit super unreliably, but anything further than eight years ago? Fucking blank. Been trying to figure this shit out for years. But I’ve been keeping an eye on stuff online to see if anyone else figures it out, and there was a really convincing video about me being a noumu. It didn’t sound right, but I wanted to check. You’re sure it’s wrong though, right?”

And Tomura has to take a minute to process that confession. He’d always just thought Dabi was trying to be edgy and mysterious, but he actually had no idea who the fuck he was, and as Tomura looked back on all his past interactions with Dabi, the concluding thought came to him unbidden, yeah, that checks out.

Tomura briefly entertained the idea of telling Dabi to fuck off and figure it out on his own time.

But on the other hand, the entire situation sounded like a shit show waiting to happen, and if there was anything Tomura enjoyed doing outside of playing video games, it was laughing at the suffering of other people. Bonus points if that person would finally be Dabi.

Fuck it, Tomura didn’t have any plans for his evening anyway.

“...Show me the video.”

Dabi runs to fetch his computer, and Tomura finds himself vaguely disturbed by the fact that he seems almost eager to show the video to him, like some sort of patchwork puppy.

But then whatever conspiracy theory Dabi had found himself enamored with started playing and-

Fuck.

That made… far too much sense.

Tomura was fairly sure that Sensei would have told him if Dabi was a noumu, but he was right, it was convincing.

As the video ended, sources flashing across the screen, Tomura turned in his seat to stare consideringly at Dabi, who stared right back at him. After a moment, Tomura broke the silence.

“Are you a noumu?” he asked, a bewildered note to his voice, because he’d thought Dabi was on drugs or something before, but now as he looked at him, he couldn't stop the pervasive thought of noumu rocketing around his head.

“I don’t fucking know,” Dabi whispered in the most defeated tone Tomura had ever heard.

“Give me a second,” Tomura muttered, fishing his phone out of his pocket and pulling up his contacts list. “I can figure this out.” Quickly scrolling through the relatively short list, he clicked on that one succinctly titled Dr. Ujiko and held his phone up to his ear, pinky curled into his palm as he listened to his phone ring.

“Ah, hel-”

“Is Dabi a noumu?” Tomura interrupted the greeting, deciding to get straight to the point.

“I-” The doctor cut himself off with a confused tone, and as much as Tomura had never liked the man, he could understand the confusion. However, he had less patience than Dabi (he’d been trying to figure this shit out for almost a decade and he hadn’t lost his shit yet how the fuck-).

“Is Dabi a noumu, yes or no?”

“...No, Dabi is not a noumu. Why would you think he’s-”

Beep.

“Alright,” Tomura said blandly, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “The good news is you’re not a noumu. The bad news is we still have no idea who or what the fuck you are.”

“Well, I can cross the noumu theory off my list at least.” Dabi sighed tiredly.

“You have a list?” Tomura asked incredulously. Dabi gave him a blank, unamused look.

“I’ve been trying to figure out who I am for almost seven years, of course I have a fucking list.”

But Tomura was invested at this point, and just pointed at Dabi commandingly. “Go get them. We’re leveling up our investigation skills and unlocking your backstory.”

Tomura wasn’t sure whether or not he should be surprised by the piles of thick binders Dabi brought back and dropped on the coffee table, which groaned worryingly under the sudden weight (and the man was a twig, he had no idea how he’d carried them without snapping like a glow stick).

“Is this… all of it?” he asked slowly, flipping open the binder closest to him and blinking at the tiny font of a fucking table of contents.

“Pretty much, yeah,” Dabi said, organized the binders into different groups before pointing at them one by one. “This one is just some general information I’ve been able to figure out about myself. These two are theories and leads that I’ve followed up on and we’re able to confidently rule out. The next two are ones that I’m currently looking into. These three have lists of ideas that I need to start looking into, and there’s a shit ton of them. And finally, these six,” he said pointing to the largest pile of binders, “are leads that I haven’t been able to follow up on fully, either because of a lack of resources or just hitting a dead end.”

Tomura simply stared, only able to comprehend the amount of information piled in front of him simply by thinking I thought Dabi killed a fuck ton of trees at that summer camp, but apparently this is somehow where he’s more effective at tearing down forests.

Tomura took in a deep breath and exhaled.

Standing up from the ratty couch without a word, he took a few steps up to the large wall on the far side of the bar and brushed his fingers along the surface. He walked from end to end until all the yellowed and torn old posters that used to decorate the surface laid in piles of dust around his feet, leaving the plain wooden wall in his wake.

Turning around and padding past Dabi’s confused stare and over to the bar, he leaned over the counter and grabbed a knife and marker. Carefully balancing the blade and marker in one hand with decaying them, tore another poster down from another wall in the bar and turned it to the blank side on the coffee table.

Holding the knife in one hand and pressing down the poster with his wrist, he took the cap off the marker with his teeth and wrote down in large, bold kanji, WHO THE FUCK IS DABI?

Then he held the poster up to the center of the recently cleared wall, and stabbed it with the knife, pinning it effectively in place.

He turned to Dabi, who was starting to gain some level of comprehension in his eyes at what Tomura was trying to accomplish.

“Start pulling out your most likely theories, you amnesiatic fuck face,” he said. “We’re figuring this shit out.”

Spinner really had no idea what he was looking at.

All he’d wanted to do was go into the kitchen and grab a snack to eat before turning in for the night, and instead, he walked in on Shigaraki and Dabi having what appeared to be a civil debate about whether or not Dabi’s burn scars were from time traveling?

Maybe he’d already gone to bed and what he was seeing was just a really weird dream or something.

He must’ve made a noise or something because Shigaraki and Dabi snapped their heads around to look at him simultaneously.

He gulped nervously under their combined stares.

“Spinner,” Shigaraki said sharply, and he snapped to attention at his name. “Settle something for us. On a scale of one to ten, how likely is it that Dabi’s some sort of time traveler?”

“I, uh,” Spinner stuttered. “Um, four?”

Shigaraki cursed softly under his breath.

“Fucking told you,” Dabi said, picking a mug of tea from the coffee table and sipped at it. Shigaraki kicked his shin, to which Dabi only responded by saying, “If you pop a staple on my leg, you're putting it back in.”

Shigaraki returned his attention to Spinner, who wasn’t exactly eager to be getting glared at by their decay-happy leader again. “Spinner, go fetch the rest of the League. There’s been a change of plans.”

It was Hawks’ day off.

Now, he said that it was his day off, but it really only meant that he wasn’t doing any patrols or work at his agency, and would probably end up spending the whole day at the League of Villains hideout.

Technically work, Hawks supposed, but over time at least it had become enjoyable work. He was reluctant to admit to himself that he’d probably miss their company once he finished his mission and had to break cover to take them down.

They were better company than the suits at the Commission by a long shot.

Now, whatever Hawks had been expecting when he walked into the League hideout at 9 AM, it certainly wasn’t Shigaraki slamming his hands down on the table and yelling a question at Dabi, the rest of the league spread across the couches and chairs, watching intently. A wall that Hawks swore was decorated with posters of trashy old bands last time he’d been there was instead covered with papers, either hung up with push pins or knives, some connected by red yarn.

“Give us something to fucking work with here, Dabi! Hobbies, interests, skills, anything you can’t explain away!”

“Fuck if I know!” Dabi snapped back, sounding every bit as exasperated and defeated as Shigaraki did annoyed. “I’m pretty sure I was a person before all this shit, but I don’t remember a goddamn thing about it.”

The League seemed to let out a simultaneous groan at the answer.

“Don’t worry, Dabi! Recovering from any sort of brain trauma is a long journey, so take your time!” Twice chirped. “Maybe if we whack you in the head with a metal bat, all the memories will come back!”

“Wait-” Dabi said suddenly, holding up a hand, appearing to be in deep thought. Noise in the room quieted, and Hawks had a sinking feeling he knew exactly what was going on as he spied the WHO THE FUCK IS DABI sign in the center of the wall. Dabi held a hand to his chin, brows furrowing as he thought. “Actually I think I used to like soba. Maybe. I also might have never eaten soba before. Honestly fifty-fifty chance,” he said with false cheeriness, giving the group a thumbs up.

“What the fuck,” Hawks said softly, but with feeling.

The League quieted all at once and turned to look at him. Several seconds of silence passed before Shigaraki broke the quiet.

“Listen, either sit your ass down and help or get the fuck out. We’re not doing anything else until we figure this shit out.”

Hawks felt the sigh he gave out in response somewhere deep in his soul, shutting the door behind himself and shuffling over to an empty chair, grumbling under his breath.

“Well, this explains why I couldn’t figure out this shit either.”

Sometimes, Shouta wondered if it was really worth ever getting out of bed in the morning. Maybe he should’ve never crawled out of his sleeping bag, just laid there and let the ratty thing become his coffin.

Instances in which he wondered such a thing tended to happen whenever he had to deal with the League of Villains. Again.

Shigaraki was a manchild who was more difficult to reason with than almost all of his students, Toga was some sort of psychopath, Twice desperately needed a psychotherapist, Compress and Kurogiri were polite but frustrating to deal with and thus Shouta hated them by default, Dabi was a powerful and smug asshole, and Spinner was a cosplayer taking method acting too far.

So Shouta wasn’t exactly thrilled that he got into a confrontation with Shigaraki on the weekend when all he had been trying to accomplish was picking up more eye drops.

The underground hero in him was steadily becoming more frustrated as the year progressed at the sheer amount of confrontations he was getting forced into in broad daylight, in front of the news cameras. He might as well become a spotlight hero, at that rate.

Now, the cause of his headache during this particular confrontation, for once, didn’t come from Midoriya’s suicidal self-sacrificing tendencies. No, the problem child was back at the dorms, not getting pulled into yet another major villain fight.

It instead came from the fact that Shigaraki kept leaning in and asking about missing person cases he had worked on in the past—the majority of them ones he and the police had never been able to solve.

“What about Okamoto Shinju? Ever found him?” Shigaraki hissed into his ear as he shot past, barely avoiding the man's outstretched fingers. “Noguchi Kichirou? Yamauchi Misaki? Inoue Riko?”

Shouta growled lowly under his breath, whipping around and focusing his gaze on Shigaraki, thankful that it was only the one League member he had to deal with (though none of them would have been ideal).

“Why are you so interested in cold missing person cases?”

“Ah,” Shigaraki intoned, giving a bright smile that looked demented on his face. “So they’re still cold, hm? That’s very useful information.”

Shouta startled at the statement, not having expected the reaction. Why did Shigaraki suddenly care about decade-old missing person cases?

Shigaraki suddenly shot away from him, and at the top of his lungs screeched, “IT’S A LEAD!”

Before Shouta could even process what on earth that statement could possibly mean, a blast of blue flames poured down on Shigaraki, causing the leader to—melt, not burn. Shouta hissed as he jumped away from the flames, turning his glare to where Dabi was leaning over a nearby rooftop, furious at having been played in such a way.

Of course it was one of Twice’s doubles. Shigaraki, even childish as he was, usually had a better plan than just running up to him on the sidewalk.

“Thanks, Eraserhead!” Dabi called over the roof, before quickly retreating back and out of Shouta’s line of sight. “You’ve been a huge help!”

Shouta shot out his capture weapon, quickly grappling to the top of the building he had just spotted Dabi upon, determined to catch him before-

A few wisps of purple mist floated away in the wind.

Shouta tightened his hands into fists, growling a low “Dammit,” under his breath.

He was too late.

“Cold cases are cold for a reason, you know,” Hawks said dryly, dumping a box of files on the table with a grunt. It’d been a bitch to get his hands on the printed copies of the various cases, but the fact that they were considered cold was useful, in that they had a little less attention paid to them. One quick trip to the photocopier and back and Hawks had officially committed yet another crime.

He was vaguely worried about how nonchalant he was becoming about following the law, regardless of the wide parameters he was given on his mission. That was a problem for future him, however.

“They’re cold for the police,” Shigaraki said distractedly, already shuffling through the files. Hawks was relieved that he’d taken to taping two of his fingers on each hand unless he was leaving the bar, having accidentally disintegrated more than a few flash drives of potentially useful information. “Unlike them, we don’t have to deal with any red tape or listen to any higher-ups.”

“So we’re becoming back alley detectives? Like some sort of discount Sherlock Holmes roleplayers?”

“We’re not fucking LARPers, chicken wings. This is a serious investigation.”

“Alright, alright,” Hawks said, holding his hands up placatingly. “Also, if you’re going to insult me, go for something that’s actually there. Call me chicken legs or chicken ankles.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to-” Shigaraki cut himself off as he looked down at where Hawks was pointing, staring at the gap between where his baggy flight pants ended and his boots began.

“You know,” Spinner commented contemplatively from off the side after a few moments of silence, “now that you’ve pointed it out I don’t think I’ll ever be able to unsee it.”

“Detective Chicken Legs, at your service,” Hawks chirped, saluting sarcastically with a ditzy smile on his face.

“I fucking hate it here,” Dabi said.

Yuuta didn’t really know how long he’d been stuck in that damp basement.

He had a general idea, of course; other prisoners were occasionally tossed into the room with him, and they would tell him what date they estimated it was.

At the very least, he’d been there for over eight years.

It made sense, of course, that the Yakuza cell he’d been sold to would do well to keep their source of limitless energy from being discovered, but well—it still hurt when he realized, around his fourth year, that it was unlikely that anyone would ever come for him. Picked right off the streets in front of Ketsubutsu, and no one could track him down. He finally had his provisional license, and he’d been picked up, just like that.

He picked absentmindedly at the brace around his leg that chained him to the wall, a device that endlessly siphoned off the energy that used to crackle off his skin in abundance.

He startled at sudden sounds of fighting, muffled through layers of concrete. His hand slipped and his nail caught in a seam of the brace, pulling at an awkward angle that left a dull throb in his fingertip. He straightened up, a traitorous part of his mind flaring up in hope before he crushed it back down.

Yuuta knew that if they hadn’t found him by now, his case was more than likely cold and shelved. They wouldn’t expend more resources on him when there were warmer trails to follow.

It was significantly more likely that some rival Yakuza family was starting something.

Or at least, that’s what Yuuta thought until the sounds of fighting began to grow closer. He shifted on his ratty cot nervously—the screams outside his room made the fight sound very one-sided, and in the intruders' favor. That small flare of hope kept nudging at the back of his mind.

When the sounds of fighting faded, Yuuta sat tensely, picking at the frayed edges of his thin blanket, mind racing as he tried to figure out what might happen next.

When the wall of his room crumbled into dust before his very eyes, Yuuta only blinked confusedly at what he saw.

The group before him certainly had… a unique sense of style, not that Yuuta and his too-big-for-his-emaciated-body clothes were ones to talk.

But the one standing at the front of the group with his hand outstretched looked like he had a whole hand kink thing going on, another looked like a discount Frankenstein’s monster, and the last was wearing nothing more than a slightly too big school uniform.

Yuuta wasn’t sure what had changed since he had been kidnapped, but he was fairly sure that interns were meant to be given their real costumes before being taken on fieldwork.

“‘Sup,” the guy with the patchwork face and coat said casually, stepping forward as he pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket. “You don’t happen to be,” he squinted at the paper (Yuuta was struck by the horrific realization that the scars weren’t an aesthetic thing, but were very real as he spied the inside of the guy's mouth through the gap between the first and second staple on either side of his mouth as he spoke, and oh god Yuuta felt sick), “Serizawa Yuuta, do you?”

“Uh, y-” Yuuta coughed harshly into his elbow, grimacing at the rough scratch of his throat. “Yes, that’s me.”

“Awww, what a letdown,” the school girl whined, waving her arms around angrily, and Yuuta felt the feeling of being sick coming up again as he saw the very much blood-covered knife in her hand. How much more brutal had heroics gotten in eight years? “He’s not even that cute—he’s so skinny! There’s no blood on his bones!”

Yuuta was fairly sure that the saying was “meat,” but he didn’t get a chance to ask about the strange turn of phrase before the guy covered in hands groaned loudly and childishly. “This is a waste of time, I’m gonna call Kurogiri for a pick-up.”

The other two intoned a disappointed “Yeah,” as they followed him when he stalked away and out of sight, presumably fishing his phone from his pocket.

“Wait!” Yuuta managed to call out, his throat itching at the effort. The group paused briefly and glanced back at him, looking impatient. “I—are you three heroes? You don’t look like part of the Miyashita family…”

The guy covered in scars barked out a harsh laugh, waving blandly over his shoulder as the group continued walking away. “Don’t worry about it,” he said in an amused tone before they all disappeared from sight. After a few moments, Yuuta couldn’t hear their footsteps any longer.

No more than a few minutes passed before police and heroes flooded the room, and Yuuta allowed his confusion to be washed away by crushing relief as tears pricked at his eyes.

“Right. Yes, we’re at the location. I’ll text you the coordinates. Alright, thank you,” Atsuhiro said, before pulling his phone away from his face and hanging up. He turned to face Spinner and Twice, who had sat on the grass and started a game of chopsticks in the time it had taken him to call Kurogiri. Allowing himself a smile at this scene, he quickly shot off a text with their coordinates to the bartender before catching his comrades' attention.

“Shigaraki, Dabi, and Toga have finished up their objective. We’ll be joining them back at the base shortly,” he informed them, both looking up at him. “The police will be here soon, so get ready to move. Kurogiri will be sending a portal momentarily.”

“Alright,” Spinner said easily, standing up in tandem with Twice. “So, uh, they’re taking care of…” he gestured weakly at the pit next to them, a stale, vaguely nauseating scent rising from its depths.

“They’ll be taking care of the body, yes,” Atsuhiro confirmed, glancing at the skeleton still slightly buried at the bottom of the hole. “We’ll allow the police to run DNA analysis on whether or not this is Itou Ryouta. Hawks will be able to tell us the results before it's even on the news.”

“Right…”

“Relax!” Twice chirped, patting Spinner on the back. “Either we still have a lead on who Dabi is or we’ve helped a family find closure! Either way, there’s a silver lining to this! This entire situation is a fucking waste of time!”

“I still think Toga would have been a better choice for this kind of thing,” Spinner muttered.

“Perhaps,” Atsuhiro said noncommittally, “but she was getting stabby, so we decided to handle that efficiently while we could.”

“I guess.”

Atsuhiro was pleased to see the familiar purple mist of Kurogiri’s portal appear just a few meters away as police sirens screeched into the park. The police officers who exited the car froze upon spotting the three members of the League, but Atsuhiro did no more than tip his hat and stroll briskly into the portal, Spinner and Twice behind him.

“Bye-bye!” Twice called, and Atsuhiro could almost hear the cheery wave he was giving the officers in his voice. “See you never, fuckers!”

LEAGUE OF VILLAINS RESCUE KIDNAPPED HERO STUDENT
By Saitou Masahiko

Serizawa Yuuta was a student in Ketsubutsu Academy’s heroics course, with a brand new provisional license in his pocket when he was kidnapped right off the streets in front of the school. Having a powerful energy quirk, he was sold to the Miyashita Yakuza family and kept in their basement as a source of endless energy to power their bases, operations, and to make a little extra on the side. Serizawa lived in that basement for almost nine years, giving up hope of ever being found, before he was rescued.

Serizawa didn’t recognize the heroes that had dusted the wall of his damp basement room but brushed it off; the face of heroics can certainly change in nine years. Two pros and a work experience intern are what he presumed to have rescued him. He knew that he was not simply found by accident because one of the pros stepped up and asked him to confirm his identity—and Serizawa was relieved. The pro-heroes had come for him.

They must have been the advance team, he thought, when they spoke of contacting a ‘Kurogiri,’ perhaps another pro, for pick up. They went ahead, presumably to rescue other prisoners of the Miyashita. Other pros and police officers soon flooded the room, rushing him to a hospital to be treated for malnutrition and given physical therapy for his atrophied muscles.

However, it wasn’t until Serizawa gave his statement to the police that both law enforcement and Serizawa himself realized the truth: he had been reduced by the League of Villains. When he described the ‘pros’ that reduced him, their descriptions matched perfectly to that of Shigaraki Tomura and Dabi, and their ‘intern’ to that of Toga Himiko. When given police sketches to confirm for certain the identities of those who found him, Serizawa said yes—those were the people that had taken down an entire yakuza cell to find him.

Read more

“Alright, so,” Shigaraki announced, pacing back and forth to the League, sprawled across the couched of the bar, “while we’re waiting for the police to calm the fuck down so Hawks can finally be useful again-”

“Love you too.”

“-and get us some more of those cases, we’re going to focus on some of the alternative theories and ruling those out.” Shigaraki threw himself into a chair, looking around at them. “We’ll be splitting up into groups. Toga, Spinner, you’re working on the Zodiac Killer. Compress and Twice, time travel.”

“We’ve been over this,” Dabi groaned, letting his head fall back into the couch cushions in exasperation. “We ruled that one out.”

“No, you ruled it out. I’m still skeptical.”

“Oh my fucking god.”

“Dabi, you and Hawks are working on the demon from hell theory. Me and Kurogiri will be making a few house calls to the Yakuza.”

“Okay, wait,” Hawks said, visor pushed up into his hair as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can suspend my disbelief for a lot of things, but there is no possible way that Dabi is a demon from hell. Hell doesn’t even exist.”

“Prove it,” Shigaraki responded blankly.

“I- what?”

“Prove it,” Shigaraki repeated, crossing his arms. “While some quirks can have scientific explanations, some don’t. How am I, scientifically, able to decay things with a single touch? How the fuck do Compress and Twice make Conservation of Matter their bitch? How do you control your feathers? For that matter, how does any form of telekinesis work?”

“I, uh,” Hawks stuttered, mind screeching to a halt. “Hah?”

“Exactly, you fucking pigeon head. Quirks are some wack-ass shit, so there’s nothing to say hell can’t exist, and that Dabi isn't a demon.” Shigaraki pulled a Bible from out of nowhere and tossed it on the table. “Get to work.”

“I—but-” Hawks blinked and stared down at his hands like he was having an existential crisis, which, Dabi supposed, was fair enough.

Despite that, Dabi couldn’t keep himself from cackling when Shigaraki huffed angrily, picking the book back up and nailing the hero in the face with it, growling, “Read the fucking Bible, Hawks.”

“Holy shit,” was all Dabi managed to say once they got all the information laid out in front of them. Shigaraki simply made an odd noise of affirmation, and Hawks only nodded dumbly. “I knew heroes were fucking corrupt but this…”

“Yeah,” Hawks agreed softly, looking vaguely sick.

“Okay, so Shinoda Kei is definitely dead,” Shigaraki said. “Our next question is what the fuck are we supposed to do about heroes taking on black market hits?”

“I dunno, expose them?” Dabi suggested, shrugging. “Tie into that whole ‘fuck heroes’ thing we’re doing.”

It was quite obvious that none of them had slept in the past two days when Shigaraki simply squinted at him for a few moments before understanding dawned across his face. “Right, yeah, that. We’ll get Toga to go drop off the files to a newspaper in the morning.”

“Tomura, Hawks, Dabi,” a strict voice suddenly interrupted. The three of them tensed, before slowly turning around to see Kurogiri standing behind them, arms crossed. He didn’t have a face, but Dabi could feel the disappointed stare. “When’s the last time you slept?”

“Uh…” Hawks started, facing scrunching up in concentration as he started to count on his fingers, talons glinting slightly in the soft light of the bar (Toga had been thrilled when they discovered that Hawks had additional avian features, and Dabi would reluctantly admit to being worried for his continued health with Toga’s excitement).

“It’s been like… forty hours?” Shigaraki said, glancing at both of them for confirmation. Dabi and Hawks shrugged.

“It’s been fifty-three, actually,” Kurogiri informed them shortly. “You three are going to bed, now.”

All three of them groaned in unison, but with a pointed look from the team mom bartender, Shigaraki and Dabi began shuffling towards their rooms.

“Will you be able to make it back to your apartment safely Hawks?” Unlikely, considering that Fukuoka was an hour flight at the very least from Musutafu.

“Um,” Hawks hummed, thinking as he swayed on his feet. “Probably not.”

Kurogiri sighed. “Do you know the precise coordinates of your apartment, so I can drop you off?”

“Fuckin’ bird brains can’t even string a sentence together right now,” Dabi muttered, having stopped his mindless shuffle to watch the exchange. Backtracking easily, he grabbed the collar of Hawks’ shirt and began dragging him along. “Y’can stay with me tonight.” Hawks squealed in surprise and barely managed to snatch his flight jack off the couch as they went past. “Get Toga to go drop those files at a newspaper or something when she gets up,” he said to Kurogiri as he and Hawks left.

“Be nice to Hawks, Dabi,” the bartender called to him as they left the main room.

“Dunno what you’re talkin’ about,” he responded. “‘M a fucking saint.”

Dabi elected to ignore the amused huff he could just barely hear from the man.

Hawks groaned as he blinked his eyes open, having spent the night at his own apartment for the first time in several days. Realizing that it was the jingle of his work phone that was waking him up and that if he was being called so early in the morning that it was most likely the Commission calling, he simply sighed and blindly reached out. Finally grabbing the correct phone after a few attempts, he quickly answered and held the device up to his ear.

“Hello?” he greeted, attempting to sound as awake as he possibly could.

“Hawks,” a clipped voice responded. “Are you aware of what’s on the news right now?”

“Uh…” Hawks trailed off, racking his brain for anything he’d seen recently that could possibly have pissed the Commission off that could be tied back to him. He couldn’t remember making any mistakes on his patrols recently, and he’d been pretty on point in all of his interviews, sticking to the script and getting in and out before Shigaraki would begin blowing up his phone to get back to base and help out. “No?”

“Well then,” the voice of his handler turned even icier than usual, if it were possible, “I suggest you check.”

“Alright, give me a second,” Hawks responded, obediently throwing off the thick comforter of his bed, and wow it was fucking freezing. Hawks was harshly reminded of how close winter was as his feathers ruffled at the sudden temperature change, cringing at the unimpressed noise his handler made in response to the noise.

Trying to avoid making his handler’s mood worse than it already was, Hawks walked along in his little bird hop to avoid any sounds of his talons clacking against the floor. Shifting his work phone to be held between his head and shoulder, he grabbed his personal cell and shifted through his notifications as he padded into his living room. Kurogiri texted him to pick up milk and tea bags before he came over after his next patrol, and Twice had sent a few memes that he didn’t really understand, but obligingly sent back a “lmao” regardless.

He probably shouldn’t have given the League his personal number, in hindsight, but the burner phone he’d used before didn’t do group chats and Hawks hadn’t slept in a few days at the time. At least it was convenient, ignoring how incriminating it was.

Picking up the remote to his TV, he flicked it on to the nearest news channel and suddenly understood.

“-pro hero Feedback has come under fire after newly published allegations of accepting, carrying out, and taking payment for a black market assassination contract of sixteen-year-old Shinoda Kei back in 2XXX, who until now has been presumed missing. The newspaper that broke this story cited their whistleblower as the League of Villains, and after police checked their CCTV, were able to confirm-“

Hawks switched the channel, not quite able to believe what he was hearing.

“-Feedback has come out denying the allegations against him, however, video footage uncovered while corroborating the information provided by the League is in direct contradiction to his statements. Police have reopened the case of Shinoda Kei, moving the investigation from a missing person investigation to a homicide investigation-”

“-how are we, as a population, supposed to feel that a hero, A: decided to do something like this of his own free will, and B: was able to cover it up for almost nine years without anyone suspecting a thing. We had to be informed of this by the League of Villains, and I’m not sure what that says for the accountability of heroes-”

“-new information brought to light by the League of Villains has revealed that pro hero Feed-”

“-can easily be convicted of first-degree murder, with this kind of evidence-”

“-the situation with Feedback is unprecedented, and how this is dealt with is likely going to have repercussions on society as we know it for decades to come.”

Hawks kept flipping through the news stations and would’ve forgotten his handler were he not able to barely make out the man’s breathing. “Uh, yeah, okay, I think I know what you’re talking about now,” Hawks said hesitantly.

“You’ve sent in notices that indicate you’ve been spending more time at their hideout these past two months than you have on patrol, and you failed to notify us of anything like this potentially happening.” It was a statement, not a question, and Hawks barely suppressed a wince. The Commission was so not happy with him.

“Um,” Hawks started hesitantly, trying to figure out how to best navigate the conversation. “I honestly didn’t even know they’d sent that information off. I was there when they uncovered it, but I don’t remember anything about them deciding to send it in as an exposé.” There, that was a relatively safe way to say ‘I do remember it happening, however, I had been awake for fifty-three hours on two hours of sleep and by that point, I could taste colors so I wasn’t too sure what had actually happened and what was a hallucination.’

“The Commission expects you to do better, Hawks,” his handler told him. He flinched at the cold tone and familiar reprimand, suddenly finding his talons very interesting, avoiding a gaze that wasn’t even there. “We expect you to better inform us of these events in the future.”

And then all Hawks heard was his dial tone. Hawks numbly pulled the phone away from his ear, simply staring at it in his hand. Well, that could have gone significantly better, but it wasn’t the worst possible outcome.

Sighing, he realized that the metaphorical cold bucket of water that was that whole situation meant he wasn’t going to be able to crawl back into bed and go to sleep anytime soon.

Deciding to at least have something interesting to watch (and maybe brighten up the shitty start to the day) as he turned off the TV, he simply tossed his work phone onto the couch while searching for the League group chat in the other. Shooting off a cryptic message, he simply watched and laughed to himself as replies rolled in as he got ready for his day.

colonel sanders
hey

hey turn on the news

hand kink
hawks its six thirty in the morning what could possibly warrant you waking me up

colonel sanders
its funny i promise

team mom
I’m already up, and I have to admit it is quite amusing how effective something the three of you came up with while that sleep deprived worked so efficiently.

Himiko, please stop changing my username.

even though i look like a burnt chicken nugget
wait what what did we do

shes not wrong tho

oh my fuCKING GOD

colonel sanders
y’all pissed off the commission big time

they just called me over this shit

even though i look like a burnt chicken nugget
“y’all” he says, as if he didn’t contribute as much as the rest of us to what happened

colonel sanders
shut

hand kink
what the fuck are you three talking about

even though i look like a burnt chicken nugget
lmfao come down and watch the news i gotta see ur reaction to this shit in person

colonel sanders
film it pls

even though i look like a burnt chicken nugget
don’t worry i gotchu pretty bird

💖🔪✨Himiko✨🔪💖
usually id find you two flirting adorable but it’s really early

colonel sanders
we’re not flirting

💖🔪✨Himiko✨🔪💖
👀👀👀

even though i look like a burnt chicken nugget
[shiggyshock.mp4]

colonel sanders
LMFAOOOOOO

even though i look like a burnt chicken nugget
HE LOOKS SO SHOCKED THAT FOR ONCE SOMETHING WORKED IN FAVOR OF HIS GOALS AND IT WASNT EVEN ONE OF HIS DUMBASS PLANS

💖🔪✨Himiko✨🔪💖
wait what’s going on

Double Trouble
^

StainStan
^

team dad
^

Himiko please stop changing me and Kurogiri’s usernames.

even though i look like a burnt chicken nugget
is she wrong tho

anyway come and watch the news im loosing my fucking mind

shiggy’s in shock

hawks got bitched at by the commission

mamagiri’s proud

StainStan
ngl this lowkey worth being woken up before seven am for

even though i look like a burnt chicken nugget
ikr

colonel sanders
hey can we get a “good job” from the team leader

for our outstanding performance with this stunt

even though i look like a burnt chicken nugget
^

💖🔪✨Himiko✨🔪💖
^

hand kink
no

colonel sanders
:(

Ochako knew when she woke up that morning, from some foreboding sense in the back of her mind, that something was going to happen. When she heard feet thumping down the hall to the common room, that feeling multiplied. When Deku slammed the door to the common room open with such force that she was surprised that it didn’t go flying off the door frame, she supposed that’s where the foreboding feeling reached its peak.

Deku clearly had something to tell them—he had that little hop in his step when he jogged into the room in a hurry, his hair still wet and dripping onto his shirt from his shower.

“Guys, guys, guys,” he said, out of breath. Most of the class was already in the common room, either lounging on the couch, doing last-minute homework, or getting breakfast. Deku made a beeline for the TV and snatched up the remote. “Turn on the news, oh my god.”

Their classmates made various noises of confusion and asked questions as Deku frantically turned the TV over from the DVD player, but they congregated around the TV regardless, curious of what had gotten him into such a state. 

When he finally got the TV tuned to a news station, the room went cold, and Ochako finally knew what the foreboding sense she had been feeling all morning was coming from.

“-pro hero Feedback has come under fire after newly published allegations of accepting, carrying out, and taking payment for a black market assassination contract of sixteen-year-old Shinoda Kei back in 2XXX, who until now has been presumed missing. The newspaper that broke this story cited their whistleblower as the League of Villains, and after police checked their CCTV, were able to confirm-”

“Oh my,” she heard Yaoyorozu gasp quietly under her breath.

Ochako found she quite agreed with the quiet shock.

Sometimes Shouta wondered if being a teacher was worth it. A majority of the time, his answer would be a resounding no. The day that Feedback was revealed to have taken an assassination contract as some sort of sick side business was one of the days that really caused him to wonder if it was worth it.

“Today,” he started, staring out at the faces of his homeroom class, “we’ll still be talking about Hero Ethics, however, due to current events-” most of the class cringed at his words, so it was nice to know that he could still count on Midoriya to keep the class up to date on major events so he didn’t have to, “-I’ll be going over basic things a hero should not do, even if it seems  painfully obvious.”

The class was silent, all of them paying attention.

“Number one,” Shouta said, turning around to write on the board. “Don’t take assassination contracts.”

SHINODA BILL PASSES WITH OVERWHELMING MAJORITY IN FACE OF PROTESTS
By Tsunoda Shin’ichi

Following the revelation last month of the murder of sixteen-year-old Shinoda Kei under a contracted hit by pro hero Feedback, the people of Japan have been up in arms and calling for accountability. While Feedback has since been arrested and is currently awaiting trial for his actions, much of the populous has been calling for the government and Hero Public Safety Commission to ensure that such horrific abuse of power does not happen again.

Three weeks ago, Representative Shimizu Saburou introduced the Shinoda Bill to the Diet. A preliminary action plan in response to the allegations made against Feedback by the League of Villains—absolutely not where action should stop being taken, he says, but certainly a start to regaining the shaken trust of the public.

The bill requires all heroes to publicly release their tax returns, disclosing their sources of income, as well as those of their agencies. All heroes will be expected to incorporate body cameras into their hero costumes before the end of the year, giving them a month and a half to make the change. Additional psychological evaluations and mental health checks are also being required.

The Shinoda Bill was passed yesterday with an overwhelming majority, bringing an end to…   Read more

“Where the fuck have you been?” Shigaraki snarled in question as Hawks stumbled into the hideout.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Dabi added on in wonder, glancing up and down at the interesting sweatpants/hoodie/combat boots combination that he’d decided to wear.

“Dealing with the fallout of your shit,” Hawks started, pointing accusingly at Shigaraki. “And I can’t wear my hero costume around off-duty any more thanks to the whole body camera thing, so Miruko had to drag me out and help me buy a whole wardrobe since I’ve never really worn anything else and overall it’s been a really shitty week so thanks for that.”

"Body camera thing?" Dabi asked, confused as to what precisely Hawks was talking about, but was drowned out by Toga and Twice.

“Don’t worry, you look great!” Twice chirped. “You look like shit!”

“Didn’t you wear anything cute as a teenager?” Toga asked. “You always look so nice with your red suits during your interviews! They remind me of blood!”

“Okay,” Hawks said in a tone that clearly displayed his displeasure with the topic, “we’re here to discuss Dabi’s tragic backstory, not mine.”

Kurogiri glanced up at the commotion, took one look at what Hawks was wearing, and sighed long-sufferingly. “Give me your sweatshirt, Hawks. The slits for your wings will fray if not hemmed, and I doubt you know how to sew.”

Hawks groaned, all his feathers detaching and floating around him as he tugged the article of clothing off, placing it in Kurogiri’s expectant hand. His wings quickly reattached themselves.

“Are you wearing a fleece halter top?” Dabi asked incredulously, a cackle rising up in his throat as Hawks’ feathers puffed out in agitation.

“Fuck off,” he growled, stalking over to the couch. “Shove over, Spinner, I’m freezing.”

Hawks and Spinner had converted one of the couches into a pile of heating pads and electric blankets fairly early into winter, and it wasn’t uncommon to walk into the main room and find the two of them swaddled in blankets, complaining in unison about how they weren’t made for the cold.

“Just migrate or whatever it is birds do if it's that bad,” Dabi said, sipping his tea with a raised eyebrow. In direct contrast to the two ice cubes across from him, Dabi reveled in the cold. His body was every bit made for the winter as it wasn’t for his quirk, and it showed as he kicked his bare feet up onto the coffee table.

“You seriously think Shigaraki and Commission aren’t going to bitch at me endlessly for skipping work if I take off like that?”

“You better not,” Shigaraki snapped at him as he walked past, taking his place in front of the WHO THE FUCK IS DABI? wall. “I’ll dust you no matter where you are if you don’t carry your weight around here.”

“See? Just like that.”

“Alright, here’s the summary of our search for Dabi’s identity as it currently stands,” Shigaraki announced, ignoring Hawks’ comment as he finally started the meeting. “We've managed to handle most of the possible leads dealing with the yakuza and the quirk trafficking rings, and thanks to Toga’s work in infiltrating various police stations, we’ve managed to confidently rule out Dabi being some sort of new pro who went missing and was covered up. Our current route of investigation is into mysterious disappearances surrounding heroes since that’s apparently more of a thing than we thought it was. We also want to start working on miscellaneous disappearances that have no apparent cause.”

“I finished looking into all the disappearances in Fukuoka, and my agency has moved on to combing the wider Kyushu region,” Hawks offered, voice sounding muffled through the blankets now wrapped firmly around his body. Dabi entertained the thought of calling him a chicken burrito, but saved the thought for another time. “Miruko’s started investigating Hiroshima and the other prefectures in Chugoku. She’s an independent, so she should be able to move pretty fast.”

“Miruko?” Dabi asked, looking over at Hawks in surprise. “How’d you get her in on this?” Without coming off as hella suspicious went unsaid.

The blanket burrito shifted slightly, and Dabi assumed that the movement translated to a shrug, somehow. “She’s competitive. I mentioned how the League’s closed more cases in the past few months than almost any agency or hero has in the past year, and she took it as a challenge.”

“Ooh, ooh!” Toga squealed, waving her arms around excitedly. “Does this mean we might run into Miruko on the job? She’s so pretty! Her outfit’s white, I bet it shows blood super well!”

“Maybe,” Shigaraki said dismissively, his face clearly showing that he did not care. “Since Hawks and his fancy agency and hero friends are taking care of Kyushu and Chugoku, that just leaves Hokkaido, Shikoku, and the rest of Honshu.”

“That’s like… seventy-five percent of Japan,” Spinner said.

“With a diligent work ethic, I’m sure we’ll get through it in no time!” Twice cheered, ever the optimist. “It’s gonna take forever!”

“This is certainly quite an undertaking, Tomura,” Kurogiri commented neutrally from the bar.

“My life is a nightmare,” Dabi muttered blankly.

“Nah, this is hilarious,” Hawks said, and while he wasn’t explicitly laughing, Dabi knew that those weird little chirps he was letting out were pointed at him. “Imagine if we go through all this effort and you don’t even have some sort of dramatic background or tragic backstory to justify you being this emo, you’re just a hot topic junkie or something.”

“That’s fucking worse.”

“Hawks,” Compress suddenly interrupted. Dabi and Hawks broke off from their back and forth to look at the magician, who had a contemplative look upon his face. “You said you were able to coerce Miruko’s help in this investigation, yes?”

“I mean, I don’t like the way you phrased that, but yes.”

“Would it be at all possible for you to ask other heroes to work on these cases? The more of these that are solved, the less work there will be for us to do.”

“I… guess?” Hawks agreed hesitantly, the bundle of blankets wiggling around until his hand emerged from the pile holding his phone up in front of his eyes. “Jeanist is usually pretty happy to help me out, so is Edgeshot… I talk to Uwabami at photo shoots occasionally, she might be willing to listen…” Hawks muttered, scanning through his contacts for a few moments before his arm disappeared back into the blanket and he began speaking. “I can think of some people who might help out, but I know literally nobody from Tohoku or Hokkaido, much less anyone I’m on speaking or asking for favors terms with, so you guys are gonna be pretty on your own there.”

“Right,” Shigaraki starting, redirecting attention to himself, “so while Hawks is busy being the kiss ass that he is-”

“See if I ever help you out again.”

“-we’ll focus ourselves on Hokkaido, Tohoku, and Tokyo. We’ll split into three teams. Dabi and Compress will be taking Tohoku since you’re the only ones who’ll be able to take the cold there and not bitch at me about it every five seconds.”

“Isn’t Hokkaido further north, though?” Spinner asked.

“Hokkaido at least has hot springs,” Shigaraki said. “Toga, Twice, that’s where you two will be working, though expect that you might be pulled occasionally if there’s a need for reconnaissance or backup from another team.”

“Spa day!” Toga cheered, high-fiving Twice.

“That leaves… you, me, and Kurogiri to work here then, right?” Spinner said.

“Astute deduction,” Shigaraki remarked dryly.

“Why do you wanna work with me?”

“I don’t.” Dabi almost winced for Spinner, because Shigaraki pulled no punches on how much he despised all of them. “You’re just here to crawl through the sewers so I don’t have to.”

“God fucking dammit,” Spinner muttered into his blanket.

AERY, GENIUS OFFICE, LURKERS, MIRUKO, AND MANY MORE JOIN FORCES IN LARGEST HERO TEAM UP TO DATE
By Fujimoto Aimi

It is well known by now that the League of Villains has taken a peculiar interest in solving missing person cases in the past four months, and the findings and success of their actions have been having ramifications all across the country. Accountability for heroes has skyrocketed, as well as transparency about their actions and incomes, and organized crime rates in Tokyo are at an all-time low.

So when the Aery, agency of the No.2 Hero, Hawks, announced a press conference on Wednesday in conjunction with No.3 Hero, Best Jeanist, No.4 Hero, Edgeshot, No.5 Hero, Miruko, No.7 Hero, Kamui Woods, No.10 Hero, Ryuukyuu, and many other top 250 heroes, it was only expected that such an announcement with the presence of so many top heroes would concern the actions of the League. It did, of course; Hawks, the Wing Hero himself, began the conference explaining the ramifications of the League’s actions on a level previously untouched. Vigilantism, and vigilante death rates have been at an all-time high since the success of the League became apparent. While organized crime have plummeted in Tokyo, it has skyrocketed in the Greater Tokyo Region as yakuza and traffickers who evaded capture when found by the League move their base of operations.

Then, inviting Best Jeanist, Edgeshot, and Miruko to the podium, the four jointly announced the largest pro hero team up to date, the previous being the team organized to strike in Kamino Ward, when U.A. student Bakugou Katsuki was kidnapped by the League. However, while the Kamino team, made up of U.A. alumni, was only together for a scant few days in the time it took to carry out the operation, the new team-up headed by Hawks, Best Jeanist, Edgeshot, and Miruko, with alumni from the top 4 hero schools and 113 participating pros and their agencies spanning from the Okinawa Islands to Chubu and Kanto, will be part of a what is likely to be a multi-month project. An investigation into cold missing person cases, a show of strength to prove that the heroics industry has improved by leaps and bounds since they were shelved, and that the populous should not have to rely on villains and vigilantes to find their loved ones, or even a sense of safety.

A complex web of agencies and heroes joined together to work in tandem, improving flow of information and backup, trying to track the league and close as many of these cases as possible, Hawks has created… Read More

Dabi wrinkled his nose at the cold pressure against his scars, Toga sticking her tongue out as she attempted to pat enough foundation onto his face to cover up the wrinkled purple skin.

“We done yet?” he asked as she pulled away, tilting her head as she inspected her work. “Pretty sure you’ve dumped half that bottle on my face by now.”

“It’s really hard to cover up purple, Dabi,” Toga whined, patting the sponge under his eyes a few more times. “It’ll be really obvious if I miss a spot or if it wears off, so it’s better to just smother you.”

“Smothering doesn’t really seem your style,” he said offhandedly, closing his eyes obligingly as the sponge pressed against his lower eyelids. Toga giggled in response.

“Bleeding out is much prettier, don’t you think?”

“Certainly leaves more of an impact,” he said neutrally. He sneezed as something was sprayed on his face, and was coughing by the time Toga let up on whatever she was spritzing on him. “Give me some warning next time, suffocation isn’t my thing.”

“Sorry,” she said, not sounding sorry at all. She was pulling away and looking over him as he opened his eyes again. “Alright, that should be enough. The foundation says that it’s waterproof, but don’t take any chances.”

“Thanks,” he responded gruffly, rolling up the collar of the turtleneck he’d been stuffed into to hide the parts of his neck that hadn’t been covered up. Toga squinted at him as he completed the action. “What?”

“You look funny.”

Dabi raised an eyebrow at the response. “I usually look like a rotting eggplant, and me not looking like that is funny?”

“No, it’s just-” Toga waved her hands uselessly, mouth twisting as she searched for what she was trying to say. “You don’t look like Dabi,” she finally came up with after a few moments.

“That’s kind of the point.”

“No, I mean you look like someone else. I know what people look like, and your entire facial structure looks different. You don’t look like you.”

Dabi blinked slowly at her. “I’m not sure I’m following.”

Toga huffed, before taking out her phone and quickly taking a picture of his face, before handing it to him. Dabi took the phone and simply stared. Toga, as a certified shapeshifter, had always been particularly sensitive to people’s appearances being out of place, and he’d assumed that she was just overreacting, but actually seeing what she was talking about… yeah, Dabi could see her point.

His face was a lot softer, more round and less sharp, with his staples and scars covered. His face held a sort of youthful energy it didn’t have before, with his eternal eyebags weighing down his eyes. He looked like someone completely different.

“See?” Toga asked probingly. “You don’t look like Dabi, you look like—like—like not-Dabi!”

“Yeah, I can definitely see what you were talking about now,” Dabi agreed distractedly, still staring at his face.

“I don’t like it,” she muttered, across her arms.

Dabi sighed, racking his brain to figure out how to deal with the situation he was presented with. There were main problems to deal with. The first was that Toga could likely smell him as Dabi, but couldn’t see him as Dabi, which understandably upset and confused her slightly. The second being that Toga was exceptionally fond of his scars and staples, and not being able to see them was probably half the problem.

“I know you don’t,” Dabi said slowly, picking his words carefully as Toga looked up at him. “But me and Compress don’t know the back alleys of Tohoku as well as we do here, so it’s best that we don’t look like ourselves so that we can travel freely. So how about this: if I pull a staple or start bleeding anywhere, I’ll send you pictures, and each night, when I take the makeup off, I’ll send you a picture so you know I’m still me. Sound like a deal?”

Toga sniffed, and after a moment, nodded her head. Dabi gave her a smile and ruffled her hair as he stood up from her bed.

“Make sure you’ve got everything packed. You can call Kurogiri if you need anything, but it’s probably best to not bother him excessively,” he said, strolling out of her room as she chirped an affirmative.

Strolling into the main room, he announced, “Guess who’s got a new look, fuckers.”

Compress, Kurogiri, Spinner, and Hawks, who he didn’t even realize would be there, looked over at him simultaneously. Most of them simply blinked and squinted at him, while Hawks made a strangled sound and inhaled the mouthful of water he’d been trying to drink.

While Spinner thumped Hawks back as the hero tried to cough up his lungs, Kurogiri and Compress simply looked him over appraisingly.

“You certainly look… different,” Compress said after a moment. Dabi rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, that’s what Toga said. Anything else?”

Compress hummed for a second before shrugging his shoulders. “You look good, Dabi.”

“Thanks,” Dabi said, tilting his head slightly at the response. Hawks had finally finished hacking up his diaphragm and was looking at him like he’d seen a ghost or something, causing Dabi to raise an eyebrow judgmentally in his direction. “Too sexy for you?”

“I—what? No, no, that’s not it,” he said, shaking his head and waving his hands around. His wings fluttered slightly with his movements, and Dabi allowed his eyes to follow them for a moment before looking back at Hawks’ face as he got his words in order. “Not that you don’t look great, hot stuff, you just reminded me of someone and I really wasn’t expecting it.”

Dabi felt something tug in the back of his mind, like something wasn’t quite right, but, unable to figure out what the problem was, simply narrowed his eyes at the hero before shrugging. “Alright. What’re you doing here, then?”

Hawks shrugged, wings relaxing from their startled position as the topic shifted. “We’re all gonna be pretty busy for the next month or two, thought I’d see you guys off since flying up to Tohaku or Hokkaido in the middle of winter isn’t my idea of a good time.”

“Oh, but you’d still fly up here to Tokyo to visit lizard lips and hand fuck? I want a divorce,” Dabi snarked, letting himself fall onto the couch across from the furnace that was Hawks' and Spinner’s perch.

“Nah, I’m only coming up here for the food. Kurogiri makes the best yakitori I’ve ever had.”

“That’s fair.”

“Dabi, you’ve finished packing?” Kurogiri asked, interrupting the conversation.

“Yeah. It’s mostly just a bunch of turtlenecks and, like, fifty bottles of concealer and foundation. Not much to remember.”

“You’re sure you don’t need a coat?”

“I thrive in the cold. If anybody asks, I’ll just say my quirk’s cold resistance or something. Not too far off the mark.”

“Please bring one with you just in case,” Kurogiri said, turning away to head back into the kitchen. “Cold resistance does not equal cold-proof.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll toss one in,” Dabi responded, waving him off.

“Oh my god, he sounds just like Tsunagu,” Hawks whispered under his breath after a few moments. At the inquiring looks from both Dabi and Spinner, he clarified. “Best Jeanist. Kurogiri sounds exactly like Best Jeanist, guys,” he said, looking as if he’d just had a revelation.

Dabi felt a mocking smile across his face as he realized the implications. “Are you saying that Best Jeanist parents you?” Hawks blinked at him.

“Is that what it is?” His face scrunched up as he thought. “I suppose that explains why Miruko kept asking me why I didn’t buy him a Best Dad mug for his birthday this year. I was wondering about that.”

“Oh my fucking god, Hawks.”

Dabi wasn’t really prepared for the astronomically strange feeling of walking into a coffee shop and having absolutely nobody look at him twice, either because of his scars or his criminal status. Compress had gone off to raid a small gang a few blocks over and had sent Dabi off to get coffee in the meanwhile, as his quirk was incredibly distinctive, and they didn’t want alarms about League presence in Sendai being raised quite yet.

Was this what not looking like a discount Frankenstein’s monster felt like? Novel.

It was probably his tense nerves from being so openly out in public that caused him to almost snap his self-restraint and cremate the person who slammed their hands on his table when he finally sat down with drinks.

“Hey, can we ask you a question for a survey we’re doing?” He looked up to see the eager face of some guy with green hair and red eyes, flanked on each side by a woman with blue hair and green eyes and a guy with white hair and blue eyes, who was giving him an odd look.

Staring at them for a moment, he shrugged. He didn’t really have anything better to do. “Sure.”

“Great!” the guy chirped. “I’m Matsumoto Ryouichi, this is Takahashi Sho, and the polar bear is Todoroki Natsuo.” Dabi felt himself twitch at the name, trying to place it. Maybe he’d met the guy a few years ago and he just couldn’t remember him? That happened a lot, so it was certainly possible.

“Hashimoto Touwa,” he said in response, the fake name rolling off his tongue oddly. The guy with white hair, Todoroki—ah, like Todoroki Shouto from 1-A, that must be why he looked familiar—choked slightly at his words.

“Sorry, what did you say your given name was?” he asked stiltedly. Dabi raised an eyebrow at the response.

“Touwa. You know, kanji for lamp and wing?”

“Ah, right sorry,” Todoroki said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, as if his face hadn’t gone dangerously pale. “I thought you said something else.”

Dabi hummed skeptically, but let the matter go. The guy looked a little sick, and he really didn’t feel like getting thrown up on. He lived with enough infection risks as it was.

“We’re students from the Tohoku Medical and Pharmaceutical University,” Matsumoto said, skillfully brushing right along. “Our question is pretty simple: do you think doctors should be friendly and personal, or distant and professional?”

“I mean, a friendly presence is nice, I suppose,” Dabi started after thinking for a moment of the best way to answer the question when the only experience with doctors he could remember was sketchy underground ones who helped him staple his body together. “But I don’t really like getting casually friendly with people I don’t know that well, so keeping the talk strictly professional would be ideal.”

“So, a friendly demeanor but no questions outside of what’s needed?” the med student clarified. “Cool, thanks for your time!” Dabi inclined his head in response as the bubbly man herded his friends away.

What an odd interaction. It was weird, talking to people in the medical industry about something other than how the fuck he was still alive.

After a moment, he shrugged to himself, deciding that it must just be how people without debilitating trauma or mental issues must interact. Finally taking a sip of his coffee, he pulled out his phone to kill time while he waited for Compress to get back.

even though i look like a burnt chicken nugget
does my face really look that weird

this is the third weirdly visceral reaction i’ve gotten about it in as many days

mr steal yo hands
well considering that you usually look like an emo quilt fresh out of a tattoo salon to get piercings

and now the only thing you have going for you is the emo part

yeah you look really fucking weird

even though i look like a burnt chicken nugget
did

did you just call me an emo quilt

mr steal yo hands
you can read japanese, yes?

even though i look like a burnt chicken nugget has changed their name to emo quilt

emo quilt
this the best descriptor i’ve ever had

mr steal yo hands
fuck off it was an insult

Mamagiri
Please stop before this turns into an argument.

Himiko, what have I said about changing my username?

💖🔪✨Himikuwu✨🔪💖
… to not?

emo quilt
lmao she’s not wrong tho

how’s it going in hokkaido?

💖🔪✨Himikuwu✨🔪💖
great!

me and twice hunted down a local radical quirk discrimination group and now we’re at the spa!

emo quilt
hokkaido has quirk extremists?

rent-a-personality
yeah, they saw toga’s fangs and started insulting her :(

mr steal yo hands
i’m assuming you took care of them

💖🔪✨Himikuwu✨🔪💖
they weren’t cute at all but they still bled super pretty

rent-a-personality
yeah they’re pretty taken care of

fuckers are dead

emo quilt
nice

colonel sanders
see, shiggy does care about us!

💖🔪✨Himikuwu✨🔪💖
awww!

rent-a-personality
awww!

emo quilt
awww!

Stain Stan
awww!

mr steal yo hands
shut the fuck up i hate all of you like i hate everybody else

colonel sanders
yes, but… maybe you hate us a little less than everyone else?

mr steal yo hands
… 

colonel sanders
i rest my case

mr steal yo hands
talking a lot of shit for somebody in dusting distance

colonel sanders
you won’t dust me, who else is gonna make game stop runs for you?

mr steal yo hands
i’m sure i can find an alternative

Mamagiri
Tomura, please don’t disintegrate Hawks.

Hawks, please stop teasing Tomura.

mr steal yo hands
fine

colonel sanders
fine

emo quilt
mamagiri strikes again

Mamagiri
Dabi.

emo quilt
sorry

also hawks we literally left two days ago

why are you back in tokyo already

colonel sanders
i would be surprised you don't know, but it's very clear none of you watch the news

got a big meeting early tomorrow morning

so i decided to fly down tonight instead of getting up super early

kurogiri letting me come over for dinner was half the motivation ngl

Mamagiri
It’s always a pleasure to have you over, Hawks.

emo quilt
this is favoritism

Mamagiri
Perhaps.

mr steal yo hands
you’ve literally known him for like six months how can you like him more than me

💖🔪✨Himikuwu✨🔪💖
i mean

it’s not hard

mr steal yo hands
fuck off

Mamagiri
I like Hawks because he actually gets the groceries I want when I ask him, and he cleans up after himself.

Unlike the rest of you.

💖🔪✨Himikuwu✨🔪💖
shots fired

Stain Stan
kurogiri’s disapproval hurts more than i thought it would

emo quilt
wait are you saying that hawks is responsible

Mamagiri
Yes.

rent-a-personality
that’s a little unexpected

since when the fuck has hawks been responsible

emo quilt
yeah hawks tell us

how does one do the responsible and become the favorite

colonel sanders
trauma

emo quilt
understandable have a nice day

Mamagiri
On another note, Dabi, where is Compress?

emo quilt
oh yeah he went off to go raid a gang a few blocks down

he should be done soon don’t worry

also is it usually this weird to go into a coffee shop and have people not look at you

💖🔪✨Himikuwu✨🔪💖
it’s fun sneaking around with nobody the wiser, isn’t it?

emo quilt
hella weird but yeah i get your point

it’s nice not having people ask me if i need a medical professional

colonel sanders
i mean, you obviously need more than one

emo quilt
fuck off

Hawks tried to repress a sigh as he checked the text from the Commission, tilting his wings as he changed direction. He was already on a tight schedule, so of course they wanted to meet right now.

It was a short detour to the HPSC building, landing on the balcony outside the president’s office and knocking. The door was quickly slid open by the president herself, who gave him a distinctly unimpressed look at his method of entry.

“You wanted to see me?” he asked, careful to keep a relaxed look on his face as he strolled into the office. He tapped his fingers along the can of coffee he held, taking a sip as the president took her seat.

“Yes,” she started. “Would you tell me why the League has been so erratic lately? You haven’t been turning in your reports.”

Ah. Hawks knew he’d been forgetting to do something. He should probably cut down on his visits to the League a little, the hour flight time to and from cut into his already tenuous sleep schedule.

“Hawks,” the president said, voice colder, snapping him out of his head. “Please explain the League’s current motivations.”

Hawks paused, running over the words in his mind.

The League’s current motivations.

Hawks wondered how he could best explain that the reason Dabi had burned down that church was to test the demon theory, or how Toga was only dropping all those exposés at the media because the files were taking up too much space at the bar, or Shigaraki being spotted helping out pros at several quirk trafficking ring busts was half to investigate, half something Hawks didn’t want to touch with a twenty-foot pole.

After sitting in silence for almost a minute, mulling his thoughts over, Hawks decided to make a rash decision.

He stood up, looked the president dead in the eye, said, “You don’t pay me enough to explain that fucking rabbit hole,” walked out the door, and jumped off the balcony.

Flaring his wings out and relishing in the harsh tug on his back muscles as his wings stopped his descent, he took another sip of his coffee as he fished out his phone, tapping out a text as he flew towards U.A.

colonel sanders
y’all are a terrible influence

Hitoshi didn’t think that anything could have ever really prepared him for his transfer into the hero course. Sure, Aizawa had made sure that he was caught up on all the heroics-specific coursework, and he was actually ahead of his new class in their other classes, thanks to gen ed having more rigorous academics. But he supposed he wasn’t prepared for the atmosphere or the socialization.

The first thing he’d said when he’d been introduced as their new classmate was his name and that he wasn’t here to make friends.

When he finally took his seat in the heroics course, the first thing any of his new classmates said to him was from Todoroki, who sat behind him to his right. The recommendation student had tapped him on the shoulder, and when he’d turned around to meet Todoroki’s blank look with one of his own, he was simply told, “Friendship isn’t an option here.”

Hitoshi had stared at him for a few moments, trying to parse out the possible meaning of the statement. Todoroki didn’t strike him as a social butterfly, and his statement sounded less like an invitation to socialize than a warning. “What?”

“Midoriya doesn't give you much of a choice. He has a tendency to beat your face in with kindness.” With that, he settled back into his own chair and continued going through his notes before class, unconcerned with Hitoshi’s alarmed look.

Hitoshi had turned back around after a moment to stare at the green-haired cinnamon roll that sat in front of him. That was ominous as fuck.

And it was true.

Todoroki had told him that Monday. Wednesday, Hitoshi and Midoriya had gotten into an argument while sparring during heroics, and Midoriya had shouted some profound stuff at him as he beat Hitoshi’s face in the ground, and on Thursday he was being dragged over to Midoriya’s table for lunch.

Hitoshi really understood the whole ‘beat your face in with kindness’ thing after that.

So yes, heroics was intense in a way he didn’t really expect or had prepared for.

So when the No.2 hero burst into homeroom chugging canned coffee and looking vaguely like he regretted life under a strained smile, Hitoshi spared a thought as to why he was surprised by anything anymore.

“What’s up, chickadees?” Hawks chirped as he strolled into the room. Aizawa’s frustrated sigh was mirrored by Tokoyami dropping his head onto his desk with a thud. Hitoshi wondered for a moment why Tokoyami would have such a strong reaction to his mentor’s appearance, before comparing Hawks’ bright smile to ‘revelry in the dark’ and answered the question for himself.

“Hawks,” Aizawa greeted in a less than pleased tone. “I hope you have a reason to be here.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry,” Hawks said, tossing the empty coffee can over his shoulder and landing it perfectly in the trash can (Hitoshi felt slightly tempted to clap at the trickshot) as he reached into his jacket and took out a file, handing it over. “Release forms. I’m here to pick up some first-year interns and escort them over where we’re having the meeting. Jeanist and Edgeshot are picking up the second and third years.”

Hitoshi had no idea what ‘the meeting’ was, but Aizawa nodded knowingly as he flipped through the file Hawks handed him, eyes critically scanning over each page. “Everything seems in order,” he grunted after a few moments, turning his attention back to the students. “Jirou, Shoji, Sero, Iida, Tokoyami, Kirishima, Uraraka, Asui, Bakugou, and Yaoyorozu, pack your bags and collect your cases,” he called, each named student straightening up as pulled out the remote and released the cases containing their hero costumes from the wall. “Your work studies are beginning early today. You will not be headed to your mentor's agency as you usually are, so Hawks will be escorting you all to location.”

“I know you still have a class to teach, so do you want me to send you the sparknotes of the meeting afterward?” Hawks asked their teacher as all the named students stood up from their desks.

Aizawa grunted, tilting his head ever so slightly in thought before he spoke. “Shinsou,” he called, and Hitoshi shot up straight in his seat as Aizawa looked at him. Aizawa made a quick beckoning gesture and he quickly made his way up to the front. “This is Shinsou Hitoshi, my intern,” Aizawa introduced bluntly. “I’ll send him in as my proxy.” Glancing at Hitoshi, he said, “Shinsou, this is Hawks. Consider him your mentor for the day.”

“Well, this isn’t sudden at all,” Hitoshi muttered under his breath. Going by the way Aizawa rolled his eyes and Hawks gave a small chuckle, he wasn’t quiet enough.

“Go get your stuff, chicklet,” Hawks said, smiling. “You can hang with me and Tsukuyomi for the day.” At Aizawa’s pointed look, he added, “I’ll make sure he doesn’t get hurt, don’t worry about it.”

“Hearing that statement from you of all people only makes me worry more,” he heard the tired man grumble in response as he retrieved his case.

Hitoshi found himself sticking close to Hawks and Tokoyami as the hero packed up some kids from 1-B and herded the students out of the school and onto a bus that was to take them all to location. Sure, he sat with Asui (“call me Tsu-chan,”) and Uraraka at lunch, but he didn’t really know how to talk to them. Hawks, he supposed, was his mentor for the day and he knew Tokoyami could also appreciate silence and was unlikely to bother him with small talk.

“So, you’re the kid with the brainwashing quirk, right?”

However, that did not prevent Hawks from being a small talker himself.

“Yeah, what of it?” he said sullenly in response, his body already tensing defensively.

To his surprise, however, Hawks completely lit up at the revelation. “You were incredible! I was super disappointed you weren’t in the hero course, I had so many people I wanted to pester into taking you as an intern.”

“You didn’t want to take me as an intern yourself?” Hitoshi asked, raising an eyebrow as he tried to suppress the pleased flush that threatened to rise to his face.

“Oh, I absolutely would have,” Hawks said, shifting forward in his seat slightly to spread his wings a little further. “I’m just not sure I’d have much to teach you. Your quirk is voice-based, right?” Hitoshi nodded. “I’m primarily a spotlight hero, and if you’re interning with Eraserhead, I’m assuming you intend to go underground. I can give a few tips for that, and maybe teach you a few bird noises, how to deal with heights - maybe complex multitasking if you’re able to control more than one person at a time, though that would’ve been a gamble, but beyond that, I probably wouldn’t have had much to teach you for the week.”

“I have several questions about that statement,” Hitoshi said, and when Hawks nodded obligingly, he continued. “My first question is bird noises?”

Hawks smirked at him and let out a low, rumbling coo. Hitoshi blinked.

“You want some bread crumbs with that?” he asked, and wow he should really learn how to keep his mouth shut. Luckily, Hawks was a hero with a sense of humor and laughed at his comment.

“You’re not the first to basically call me a pigeon, don’t worry about it.”

“Okay,” Hitoshi said, a bit off-kilter, before continuing with his second question. “You said you could give me a few tips for underground work? But you’re not an underground hero. You’re literally the opposite of that.”

Hawks shrugged. “I took a lot of night patrols when I first started out, and I still take about two a week. Hero rankings are heavily based on popularity and crime and case solving rates of the season, but it also incorporates overall crime and case rates from the course of your career.” He shrugged. “Working double or triple shifts every day is how I was able to reach the top ten so fast—because I had to compensate for not having that kind of history with underground work. So I’m pretty familiar with the operations of underground heroes since I work with them often enough. I’ve also done a bit of undercover work, which you have the potential to be pretty good at.”

“Undercover work?” Hitoshi asked, giving Hawks’ bright red wings a pointed look over.

Hawks laughed. “Yep! As long as you keep an open mind to those around you, you already have most of the tools you’ll need to be good at it, and with some refining, you’ll be great!”

“Really?” Hitoshi asked, beginning to get drawn in by the prospect. Aizawa had mentioned undercover work in passing to him but had recommended that he go to another underground hero for advice on the subject, not having done much of it himself. Hawks nodded.

“You’re pretty charismatic, which makes sense with your quirk, and if you’re underground, you’ll be an unknown, so there’s a relatively small chance of them identifying you. And if the way you got tensed up when I mentioned your quirk before is any indication, you have your tragic backstory and villainy reasons already laid out for you.”

“I’m not a villain,” Hitoshi snapped, almost on instinct. Hawks held up his hands placatingly.

“I’m not saying you are,” he said. “I’m just saying that we’re you to go undercover, sticking as close to your personal history as possible is ideal, since you’re less likely to forget anything. Just tweak some stuff, say you never made it into the hero course and became bitter or something, and bam!” Hawks clapped his hands. “Tragic backstory and villain origins. And since it’s personal, your body language will be more natural as well.” He shrugged. “Take all your hero-related trauma growing up and there you have your cover. It’s what I do.”

“You have hero-related trauma?” Hitoshi asked, mouth moving faster than his brain was able to say ‘that’s a bit of a dick question.’

Luckily, Hawks was probably one of the most chill heroes he’d ever met, and didn’t seem to take it personally and simply shrugged it off. “I’m the number two hero at twenty-three. Doesn’t come with a clean psyche, kid.”

Hitoshi shifted uncomfortably in his seat, not quite sure what to say in response to such a nonchalant admission. Hawks was right, in a sense, about him being charismatic, but he was only charismatic in getting people to talk back to him. He wasn’t, however, skilled in talking to people who were way too casual about their trauma. Talking to Hawks was reminiscent of talking to Todoroki, and that was something he never thought he’d say.

Luckily, Bakugou was there to save the day, which was a day of firsts because that was another thing that Hitoshi never thought he’d say.

“Hey, chicken legs,” Bakugou called over the noise of the bus. Hawks looked away from Hitoshi, identifying Bakugou’s scowling face with a smile.

“What’s up, Explosion Jeanist?”

Hitoshi choked. He couldn’t believe Hawks went there, and going by the sweet scent of burning caramel that suddenly began drifting through the bus, neither could Explosion Jeanist.

After a few moments, wherein Hitoshi was pretty confident he could hear Bakugou grinding his teeth into dust, he spoke. “Where the hell are you taking us?”

“Oh, right,” Hawks said, perking up as he clapped his hands together. “Listen up, chickadees!” he called over the noise of the bus, quickly gaining all their attention. “I know that work studies only started back up again last week, so you’ve probably been pretty busy, and that for some of you, you’re either at a new agency or this is your first work-study, and as a result, your mentors probably haven’t had a chance to explain what’s going on.”

“So you’re going to tell us why we’re here?” Uraraka asked, raising her hand.

Hawks nodded. “Yep! So, assuming you’re all keeping up with the news, you’ve all heard of that super team-up thing Jeanist, Edgeshot, Miruko and I have organized?” There was a wave of affirmative nods and murmurs before Hawks continued.  “Congratulations! All of the agencies you’re at for work studies are part of this, and your mentors decided to have all of you attend the first meeting so that you get some big team-up experience, and are aware of the details of what you’re likely going to be working on for the rest of your work studies.”

“So we’re going to be working missing person cases, right? Because of the League of Villains?”

Hawks hummed his agreement. “You should all be aware that the League of Villains has taken a peculiar interest in missing person cases. We’re not exactly sure why this sudden interest has appeared,” Hitoshi watched Hawks’ face twitch as he spoke—he supposed it must have been irritating to see villains rescuing people without understanding their motivations, “but it’s been having a pretty negative impact on hero society—take the assassination of Shinoda Kei.” Everybody on the bus winced or cringed in some manner at the reminder of the incident. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad that it came to light and measures have been taken to prevent stuff like that from happening again, it’s just that we can all agree that the ‘how’ it came to light wasn’t exactly ideal.”

“So we’re doing this to show that heroes are still reliable as an institution?” Iida asked.

“Officially, yes,” Hawks said. “Have you guys had a class on hero politics or publicity yet? I’m not sure when you're supposed to get in-depth on that.”

“It’s a second-year class, kero,” Asui offered up from the back of the bus.

Hawks nodded, leaning back in his seat slightly to tilt his head to stare at the roof of the bus. “Okay, well you’ll understand this a bit better next year then, but what’s happening is something of a publicity stunt to save face, but we’ve also got an unofficial mission statement behind this as well. Unofficially, this is also being done in an attempt to intercept the League of Villains. We’ve noticed a trend with the cases they’re going after, so we’ll be focusing on many of the same. The fewer of those cases there are open, the higher of a chance we’ll have of encountering them while investigating.” He shrugged. “Close in the walls, see if we can get them. Like that one trash chute scene from Star Wars or something.”

Another hand was raised hesitantly, and Hitoshi was able to spot it belonging to Kirishima before Hawks inclined his head at him to speak.  “This team-up is super big, we’re not going to be doing anything like the Shie Hassaikai raid, will we?”

Hitoshi watched the way Uraraka and Asui’s faces twitched at the mention of the raid - he wasn’t even there and he could feel his stomach churn a little. Just reading the news about the incident had felt brutal, actually being there must’ve been horrible.

Hawks was quick to reassure them amongst the quickly deteriorating mood. “No, no. The Hassai Incident was an unusually large group; it’s one of the biggest yakuza or organized crimes cells we’ve had to take down in decades, and Overhaul’s quirk was… exceptionally well suited for causing maximum casualties. The Shie Hassaikai raid had oversights and gaps where there shouldn’t have been any, and new protocols have been put in place to try and prevent it from happening again.” Hawks placed his elbow on his knee and propped his cheek in his palm as he continued to talk. “Since you’ll primarily be investigating cold missing person cases, it’s more likely that you’ll be tracking down graves than yakuza. Your mentors will make sure you don’t see anything disturbing in those instances. But if you do end up going after someone who is hopefully still alive, it’s important that you understand that this team-up is primarily organized as a way to share information and call for backup. There are going to be many more sub-teams or groups within this little organization we’ve created that will carry out raids on smaller and less equipped cells. Nothing like the Shie Hassaikai raid. We’re actually expecting the amount of combative and medical personnel that we’re going to require at each raid to be overkill, considering that we’re going into this expecting to confront the League of Villains.”

Hitoshi and other students on the bus relaxed slightly at the hero’s words, but there was still an underlying current of tension at the possibility of encountering the League for a third (or in Hitoshi’s case, first) time. Hawks seemed to pick up on the slight uneasiness and gave them all a closed-eyed, easy, friendly smile. 

“I highly doubt any of you will run into them,” he said. “So don’t worry about them too much, okay?” Hawks opened his eyes again, gazing across them all. Hitoshi felt something incredibly sharp and dangerous about the look. “I’ll make sure you’re all safe.”

Hitoshi wasn’t sure whether the confident statement was comforting or worrying. Hawks’ smile wasn’t one of surety in his strength, it was confidence in his knowledge. Logically, Hitoshi understood that there would obviously be information that they wouldn’t tell student interns—levels of confidentiality and all that—but at the No.2 hero’s brazen statement, Hitoshi couldn’t keep himself from wondering what Hawks knew that they didn’t.

colonel sanders
[raidcaselocation.pdf]

list of cases being worked and raids being planned rn

don’t get caught

emo quilt
oh nice

that was fast

colonel sanders
fastest man alive, hot stuff

mr steal yo hands
is that all of them?

colonel sanders
yep

also something i want to say, but to you specifically, dust machine

💖🔪✨Himikuwu✨🔪💖
oh tea?

colonel sanders
if you even so much as approach a student intern

consider your scalps ✨ forfeit ✨

emo quilt
that’s really fucking ominous

Stain Stan
literally don’t do it

he’s started giving me a detailed presentation on how his feathers are flexible enough to cleanly separate your scalp from your skull and its really terrifying

mr steal yo hands
are you threatening me?

colonel sanders
you have a track record

mr steal yo hands
dabi literally kidnapped a kid why are you bitching at me

emo quilt
hey leave me and my scalp out of this

also i did that?

Stain Stan
oh you did

💖🔪✨Himikuwu✨🔪💖
wow ur memory really is trash

emo quilt
>:(

colonel sanders
dabi doesn’t carry around a picture of a student in 1-a and go around showing it to serial killers like toga with a crush

💖🔪✨Himikuwu✨🔪💖
hawksie out here throwing some shade

also izuku’s really cute, why wouldn’t tomura want to show him off?

emo quilt
it’s really creepy not gonna lie

colonel sanders
and you’re also the one who decided to stick around and investigate tokyo

if anyone is gonna run into a kid at the mall, it’s you

mr steal yo hands
one time

colonel sanders
you strangled him in the middle of the food court!

mr steal yo hands
he was annoying

emo quilt
jfc shiggy calm ur tits

colonel sanders
moral of the story: shigaraki isn’t allowed near children

emo quilt has changed mr steal yo hand’s name to bad touch man

emo quilt has locked bad touch man’s username

bad touch man
i fucking hate all of you

change it back

emo quilt
it’s a beautiful day to be the server admin

Mamagiri
Dabi.

emo quilt
what? am i wrong?

Mamagiri
Stop harassing Tomura, the both of you.

colonel sanders
then tell tomura that he’s not allowed near any students bc he’s got a reputation

Mamagiri
Tomura, please don’t go after any students.

bad touch man
fucking fine

Mamagiri
Dabi, let Tomura change his username.

emo quilt
uuuugggghhhhhh

fiiiiiiiiiinnnnneeeeee

emo quilt has unlocked bad touch man’s username

emo quilt has changed bad touch man’s username to human dandruff

Mamagiri
Thank you.

human dandruff
i hate all of you

💖🔪✨Himikuwu✨🔪💖
:(

emo quilt
:(

human dandruff 
fuck off dabi you deserve it

“Did I really kidnap a UA student?” Dabi asked, looking up from his phone to where Compress was reclining on the other bed of their abandoned-cabin-turned-base, reading a book. “That sounds like something I should remember.” The showman looked up at him with an eyebrow raised in exasperation and amusement.

“You can’t even remember the time Toga stabbed your hand to a table a few months ago. But yes, you did. Just this summer, actually. It was quite an event.”

“Hm,” Dabi intoned neutrally, returning his gaze to Shigaraki’s pissed tirade in the League group chat, feeling a frown tug at his staples.

Chapter Text

“This is such a bad idea,” Spinner muttered for the hundredth time, watching Shigaraki dig through files. Spinner was all for helping Dabi out, but he felt like he really should have drawn the line at Shigaraki deciding to break into the Hero Public Safety Commission to search through their old case files. Sure, they were the League of Villains and had Kurogiri ready to warp them out at any moment, but it didn’t make him feel better about being deep in what was essentially the heart of hero society.

“Stop being a little bitch,” Shigaraki snapped at him, “and start being useful. Check those shelves over there.” He waved a hand at the opposite end of the room, before pulling out another box of files and skimming through them quickly.

“What are we even looking for?” Spinner asked, pulling a dusty box off the highest shelf and nearly dropped it on his own head. “You were kinda sparse on the details.”

“Files on missing or deceased people that look sketchy.” Shigaraki picked out two files from the box he’d been looking through and tossed them into the box they’d set up in the middle of the file room. “The HPSC has a lot of unreleased and classified information, so if we need information or new leads, this is the place we’re most likely to find it.”

Spinner hummed his acknowledgment, and they worked in silence, for the most part, making their way through the shelves of the HPSC’s classified file room.

Now, Spinner was a follower of Stain and his words of false heroes, but as he looked through the classified files of hero society’s governing body, he suddenly felt a lot more understanding for late-night rants back at the bar about the inherent corruption of heroes.

The HPSC had a hit squad for people with information they wanted to be kept silent—that entire box had been shoved next to the one slowly filling with independent files in the middle of the room.

Quirk experimentation, blackmailing of heroes, missions that were assigned despite the minuscule chance of survival. Every dirty secret that was too classified to risk being stored on a digital, hackable server. Unfortunate that they hadn’t accounted for a warp quirk.

The box labeled Legacy Program was filled with nothing but files on people; it was heavily redacted as well, and skimming over the birth years of some of the children (Spinner was tempted to read further into the files to figure out what on earth the HPSC wanted with kids, but a feeling deep in his gut told him he didn’t want to know) placed a lot of them around Dabi’s estimated age, so he just shoved that whole box to join the growing pile in the center.

Another box filled with files of cases that the Commission had ordered law enforcement to stop investigations into, a few files from the box of people who’d quit unusually early and knew far too much, an amalgamation of files on people the HPSC didn’t want anyone asking questions about.

“The guard shift will change soon,” Shigaraki grunted once they’d met in the middle, a sizable mountain of boxes and files piled up in the center of the room. His phone was already in his hand, pinging Kurogiri for pickup.

Helping Shigaraki push the boxes of files through Kurogiri’s portal (read: doing it himself, because Shigaraki was lazy and pulled his quirk as an excuse, despite the fact Spinner knew that Shigaraki was perfectly capable of taping his fingers, but he wasn’t exactly looking to get into that death wish), Spinner tried to ignore the growing pit in his stomach about what going through the information would reveal.

LEAGUE OF VILLAINS BREAKS INTO HPSC HEADQUARTERS
By Matsuoka Natsumi

Late last night, League of Villains leader Shigaraki Tomura and members Spinner and Kurogiri broke into the classified archive room of the Hero Public Safety Commission, and stole hundreds of classified documents and files. The break-in was only discovered after the fact, by a guard who checked the room as part of his regular patrol and found it ravaged. The HPSC had a press conference on the matter early this morning and released a statement giving basic details about the break-in, however, declined to share the nature of the information stolen.

In recent months, the League of Villains has been acting in a capacity more akin to that of vigilantes, and while most laws draw the line between vigilantism and villainous charges very thin, most of the League’s recent actions fall on the grayer side of that line. They have been acting as independent, albeit highly illegal, investigators and whistleblowers, which leads to many questioning what precisely is going to happen with this latest move by the League.

From professional analysts to those on social media, nobody is quite sure what the League’s goals are, as they have become muddled and unclear in recent months. It has been theorized that the League is returning to its more illegal acts, but on the opposite end, it has been suggested, as is in line with their more recent actions, that they are planning an exposé on the HPSC. The amount of information stolen and the Commission’s refusal to share what had been taken have been cited as evidence for this theory.

If the Commission is indeed the next target of the League’s investigation, considering what has previously been revealed - the assassination of Shinoda Kei, the Hanzou Cartel cover-up, the negligence of the TPD - concerns have been raised about what possible sociopolitical ramifications… Read more

“Excuse me!” Kichirou called, jogging as fast she could in her heels to catch up to the duo she spotted. “Wait up, please!” She almost cried in relief as the two stopped in unison, turning to look at her; one with slightly flushed cheeks, a peppy smile, and space buns, the other covered in spandex and jittering in place. She stumbled to a stop as she caught up with them, hunching over for a few moments to catch her breath.

“Are you okay lady?” the spandex-covered one—Twice, she remembered—asked her, concern lacing his voice. “Fuck off and die!”

Kirichou blinked, caught slightly off guard by the sudden switch, but recovered quickly enough. She’d heard about his split personality she just... hadn’t really been expecting to run into the League of Villains in Hokkaido, of all places. Last she checked, they operated mainly in Tokyo. But, she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“I’m fine,” she reassured, an easy smile on her face before she turned to the girl next to him. “You’re Toga Himiko, correct?”

The girl’s—Toga’s smile brightened as she nodded eagerly, fists tightening near to her jaw in excitement, and oh, that was a knife.

Kirichou decided to pretend the red staining the edges of the knife was rust, for her own peace of mind.

Pushing the thought out of her mind, she bowed to the teen, who blinked at the action, her smile briefly replaced by a look of shock. “My name is Maeda Kirichou - Serizawa Yuuta is my cousin. Thank you for saving him.”

Straightening up, she saw the grin on the teen’s face suddenly come back with almost overwhelming joy. “Oh, I remember him! He smelled like a power plant!”

Kirichou laughed, almost able to completely ignore the fact that she was talking to a villain, with the child-like joy Toga gave off, and the man next to her joined her excited bounces, the two seemingly feeding off of each other. “Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?”

“Why?” Twice asked worriedly. “You’re not gonna be calling the police on us, are you? Fuckin’ snitch!”

“No, no, not at all,” she was quick to reassure them. “I’m… not the biggest fan of the police, after how they mishandled Yuuta’s case. I’m a journalist, I just wanted to ask a few questions about you, maybe your opinions on a few things… an interview?” she suggested meekly.

The word ‘interview’ seemed to be the jackpot, as Twice and Toga brightened up, and began bouncing on their feet again in unison.

“An interview? Like the ones famous people give?” Toga asked excitedly.

“You are sort of a famous person, yourself,” Kirichou said. Toga squealed, glomping Twice.

“We’re gonna give an interview and get famous!” she cheered. She gasped suddenly, smile getting even brighter and the flush of her cheeks darkening. “Ooh, what if Izuku-kun or Ochako-chan see it and fall in love with me?”

“It’s gonna be great, Toga-chan!” Twice joined in on her celebrations, somehow managing to keep his excited hop going, even with the extra weight. “This is a fucking nightmare!”

IMITATION IS THE SINCEREST FORM OF FLATTERY: AN EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW WITH TOGA HIMIKO AND TWICE FROM THE LEAGUE OF VILLAINS
By Maeda Kichirou

Hokkaido is a relatively peaceful island, in early January. Snow is on the ground, a chill in the air, the sound of people hustling to work, school-children in large groups enjoying the last few days of their winter break. So, understandably, I was surprised when I spotted two members of the League of Villains on the street ahead of me. I hurried to catch up with them. Usually, I’d never chance to approach a villain, I wouldn’t even consider it. However, since the League seems to have been turning more towards vigilantism as of late, the journalist in me was able to overpower my common sense.

My first impression of the two was that they were incredibly positive and energetic; the two are clearly good friends, and both seemed to find joy in simple things. When I approached them asking for an interview, they were both over the moon. We often write off and think of villains and criminals as these distant, cold personas, but when talking to Twice and Toga, I couldn’t help but forget they were villains - talking to them, they were people.

What follows is a transcript and commentary of an almost hour-long joint interview I had with Toga Himiko and Bubaigawara Jin (Alias: Twice), their stories and their perspectives of the world as it is. Both are stories of being outcasted for aspects of themselves beyond their control, be it either discrimination against their perceived “villainous” quirk, or stigmatization and ostracization due to mental illness. Both are incredibly positive people, despite all they’ve been through, and I believe it is important to share their stories; how systemic problems we refuse to acknowledge in our modern society cause people to turn to villainy, as it is only amongst the other outcasts of society that they can feel accepted.

Toga elected to speak first, allowing Twice time to collect himself. Her story begins when she was six-years-old, and discovered her quirk by… Read more

yakitori simp @officialhawks
betrayed not only by my own agency and sidekicks, but even by my baby bird intern. et tu, tsukuyomi?

The Aery @aery

Our intern, Tsukuyomi, once again proves himself the favorite of the office with his ability to capture premium Hawks content.
[Video attachment: a shaky cellphone video of Hawks pouring several cans of Monster Energy drinks instead of water into a coffee maker. It is fast forwarded as the coffee is brewed, and slows down again as Hawks takes the full pot off of the hot plate. He turns to the freezer and takes out several ice cubes and drops them into the pot, swirling them around to quickly cool the coffee. Hawks proceeds to chug the entire pot in one go. He then slams the pot onto the counter and turns to face the office, loudly declaring, “I’ve had my coffee, and I’m ready to fight God or f****** die trying.” The video begins to shake uncontrollably, and wheezing laughter can be heard in the background before the video abruptly ends.]

tsukuyomi @ reveling in the dark @dementiaravenway
Replying to @hawksofficial
if it makes you feel better, i have more than one video of you flying into billboards that i chose not to share.

yakitori simp @hawksofficial
Replying to @dementiaravenway
the disrespect

Every day is leg day @mirukoofficial
Replying to @hawksofficial and @dementiaravenway
the implication that you’re respectable in any way is the real punchline here. i’ve watched you cry over The Notebook too many times.

yakitori simp @hawksofficial
Replying to @mirukoofficial and @dementiaravenway
it’s really good, okay, stop exposing me

Best Jeanist @bestjeanistofficial
Replying to @hawksofficial, @mirukoofficial and @dementiaravenway
Hawks, there is nothing we can say about you that you haven’t already told all your followers whenever you get on social media sleep-deprived, which is almost every single time.

KING EXPLOSION MURDER @KINGEXPLOSIONMURDER
Replying to @bestjeanistofficial and 3 more
why the fuck did you wait until after my internship to get a fucking personality

Every day is leg day @mirukoofficial
Replying to @bestjeanistofficial, @hawksofficial and @dementiaravenway
jeany, i take back every bad thing i’ve ever said about you, drag him

yakitori simp @hawksofficial
Replying to @mirukoofficial, @bestjeanistofficial and @dementiaravenway
this is bullying

Every day is leg day @mirukooffical
Replying to @hawksofficial, @bestjeanistofficial and @dementiaravenway
stop me, coward

chargebolt go wheeyy @irlpikachu
Replying to @mirukoofficial and 3 more
the fact that pros are allowed to run their own social media accounts is a blessing i thank whatever higher being there is for every single day

“Hey, Todoroki-kun!” Izuku called as he jogged into the common room, catching the attention of the stoic teen from where he sat at the kitchen counter. “Did you want to come and see a movie with us this Saturday?”

Todoroki blinked at the question, his eyes flicking over to the calendar hung on the wall. Izuku followed his glaze; most of the days were filled in with who was supposed to be cooking, due dates on various assignments, but the box labeled January 18 was relatively blank. “I’m busy,” he said bluntly. Izuku blinked at the response, and Todoroki stared at him for a moment longer, before continuing in a slightly softer tone. “I’m going out with my siblings that day. Maybe I can join you for something on Sunday, or another weekend, Midoriya.”

Izuku beamed at the response. Todoroki had certainly opened up more throughout the year. “Yeah! I’d love that, Todoroki-kun.”

Touya.

It’s January 18th again, and it’s been another year without you. A lot has happened this year; I’ve started at U.A., and that’s kept me so busy that I haven’t had time to think of coming sooner.

I thought I’d hate U.A., that it’d just be more of the same. I never really got to hear much about it from you—you went to watch the sports festival in person, once, but the old man had started keeping us separate by then. Fuyumi always told me that you thought U.A. was alright, but she likes to look for the positive in everything, so I wasn’t really sure. The teachers are nice. They care a lot. I’ve made friends too, I think you’d like that. I’ve mentioned in my previous letters that I would become a hero without using my fire… my first friend, Midoriya Izuku (All Might’s son), helped me realize how much I was holding myself back. Trying to become a hero using only ice to spite him… I don’t want to live my life for him, either by living to follow his ambitions or by living only to go against him. I remembered what you told me about fire not being scary. I went to go see mom for the first time. I’ve started seeing a therapist at U.A.. Midoriya’s helped me a lot, you probably would’ve liked him for that, if nothing else. I like to think you would have been proud of how much better I’ve started doing this year.

There’s been a lot of villain attacks this year. I’ve only been involved in three, personally. Midoriya’s been in all of them. All Might’s retired. Dad’s the number one hero, now. I know you would have hated that. There’s this younger hero, Hawks—he’s No.2, and his case rate has gone through the roof recently—there’s a lot of speculation that he might have a shot at No.1 next season. You would’ve probably found this hilarious, at the very least. You knew him, I think. I remember seeing him at your funeral. I don’t know how you knew him, but… I think you’d like the hero he’s become. I met him again when he came in to speak at heroics class, last semester. He’s nice.

Fuyumi’s getting married. She wants me to be the ring bearer, and I think I’m going to say yes. I remember Ashido (a classmate) saying something about “playing hard to get” being beneficial for relationships, and I’m trying to connect with Fuyumi and Natsuo more, so I’ve decided to try it.

I really hope you’re proud of me, or at least, can be proud of who I am when I become a hero. I got my provisional license, after trying the exam a second time. You probably would’ve made a joke about “the number 2 being a running theme in the family” or something like that, but hug me nonetheless. Or at least, that’s what I like to think.

Fuyumi and Natsuo have finished writing their letters, so I suppose I should wrap this up. I’ll try and visit again before next year.

I hope you’re happy, wherever you are now. I miss you.

Shouto.

“FUCKING RUN FASTER!” Dabi screeched at Compress, ducking around a corner to dodge a blast of electricity.

“I’M TRYING!” Compress yelled back. Usually, Dabi probably would’ve found it hilarious that the showman had finally lost his composure, but that was when they didn’t have an angry supervillain on their tails, actively trying to kill them.

Two years ago, Dabi was fairly sure that he thought he would die of an infection, and he still held it as a likely probability. However, ‘death by electrocution’ was moving up his list of the most likely ways i’m going out faster than he would have liked. As a person who had 39 metal piercings (did staples count as piercings? Probably.) on his head alone, he was surprised he hadn’t come across this situation sooner.

Well, he thought bleakly to himself as he felt a staple in his leg tear while sharply turning around another corner, at least they had managed to cross Morimoto Shou off the list of potential identities for himself. The problem was it turned out he’d been a supervillain with an unknown identity. Considering what he could remember of his life so far, that about tracked.

Hey, bro.

I know I was just here a few weeks ago, but it’s January 18th again, so here I am.

Uni’s going well. First-year is almost over—I’ve made friends, gotten good grades, made poor choices that I’m sure you would have encouraged endlessly. Takahashi managed to convince Matsumoto to drink tub juice; he’s gullible and more susceptible to doing things “because it’d be fucking cool,” than you were. I managed to cut him off so he’d only blackout, not need an ambulance. That band you really liked—you had a poster of them in your room, Ajax Souls—they’re getting back together for a reunion tour next year. That other band, Clean Sweep (you bought their first album, back when it came out)—Matsumoto’s a fan, he’s dragging me and Takahashi along to go see their show when they’re in Sendai.

I’m not sure what Shouto will say. He’s writing more than usual, but I’ll just make sure you’re updated none the less. He might just be writing about a conspiracy theory he might think you like, for all I know (I think he said the moon didn’t exist, last time we all got together). But he seems to be doing pretty good, whenever I see him. Fuyumi agrees when she calls. U.A.’s been surprisingly good for him. I think I’ve seen him smile more in the last year than in the last ten combined.

Fuyumi’s well. She’s engaged, now. Her girlfriend proposed two weeks ago. I get to be the best man for her which is pretty cool, if I’m being honest. We’re going suit shopping in March; they’re planning on an August wedding. I think she’s trying to convince Shouto to be the ring bearer. She said something about her fiancé trying to con one of her hero friends to be the flower boy. Rumi’s a riot, you two would’ve gotten on great. I’ll be sure to tell you all about the wedding when it happens.

I miss you, Touya. I hope you’re finally happy, wherever you are now.

Natsuo.

“Call for help, CALL FOR HELP!” Dabi screamed at Compress.

“From who, the police!? ” Compress growled back, running alongside Dabi.

“Yes, call one-ten—of course not the police! You wanna get arrested? Call Kurogiri, dipshit!”

“I left my phone in the cabin, you idiot! You call Kurogiri!”

Dabi liked the League of Villains. No matter how frustrated he got with them, he liked them. He liked them. He liked them enough to not barbeque them. Maybe if he repeated it enough times, he could believe it. He barely suppressed a growl as he dug through his pockets, grimacing at the warm, wet feeling of blood staining his pants. Burns scars and staples weren’t an ideal combination for cross-country.

Pulling out his phone and wiping the smear of blood off on his shirt, he quickly pulled up his contacts and dialed Kurogiri. The bartender was responsible, a fact that Dabi was exceptionally thankful for in that specific moment, and picked up on the first ring.

“Dabi? Is something wrong?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” he responded breathlessly.

“What he means is we’re about to die!” Compress yelled. “An escape portal would be highly appreciated right now!”

Dabi really related to the deep, bone-tired sigh Kurogiri let out.

Hey, Touya.

I hope you’re well, wherever you are. We’ve been… pretty good, down here. Shouto’s doing well at U.A.; he’s made friends, he likes his teachers, and he’s finally gotten his provisional license. Natsuo’s started med school - he’s still planning to become a doctor. He doesn’t come home very often and he fights with Dad when he does—almost as much as you did. I do think he’s trying to be better, and he has started to be better this past year, but I know you wouldn’t have wanted to hear about that. I know Natsuo and Shouto don’t. Mom’s started doing better, ever since Shouto started to visit.

My class this year has been wonderful. They’re little troublemakers, all twenty of them, but it’s worth it to see them grow. I can hear you laughing at me for saying something as sentimental as that, but it’s true.

Rumi proposed to me, two weeks ago. I said yes. Natsuo is going to be my best man, and Shouto’s started warming up to the idea of being the ring bearer for us. We’re going to start planning next month - we’re aiming to be married in August. I’m going to keep a seat for you, on my side of the aisle - front row ticket. I would’ve wanted you to be there.

Rumi is friends with Hawks—I’ve mentioned this a few times, I think. I still don’t really understand how you knew each other, and I still haven’t really gotten a chance to talk to him, not even at the funeral, but going by the way Rumi talks of him, he’s doing well. He seems happy. I know he leaves you letters, as well; I see them in the box, sometimes, whenever I write a new one myself. He’s going to be Rumi’s best man along with Ryuukyuu. They’re splitting the position, somehow, so I’ll get a chance to talk to him. Maybe about you. I’m still trying to decide if that’s something to bring up. It’d be nice to know a friend of yours. You were always pretty quiet about school.

I miss you Touya.

Love,
Fuyumi.

“How on Earth did you two manage to be chased halfway across Hirosaki when all you were supposed to do was investigate?” Kurogiri asked them once they fell through the portal.

“Dabi doesn’t seem to understand the concept of ‘not everyone thinks you’re funny,’” Compress muttered, dusting himself off with a huff as he stood up.

“Fuck off, I’m hilarious.”

“No, you’re rude, there’s a difference.”

Dabi groaned into the hardwood floor of the bar, before turning his face to the side to look up at Kurogiri. “Do we have a stapler behind the bar or anything?”

Kurogiri tilted his head at the odd question but nodded. Dabi grunted and peeled himself off the floor, steadfastly ignoring the red stains where his legs had been. In Kurogiri and Compress’s shocked silence, he slid behind the bar and grabbed the stapler—an office one, but it would do—and a bottle of whiskey, before slinking towards the bathroom.

“Dabi,” Kurogiri suddenly cut in, concern lacing his voice, “if you’re injured, it would be best to go find a doctor. That’s not even a medical stapler you’re planning to use.”

“Well, unfortunately,” Dabi bit back, turning to glare over his shoulder, “I don’t think I’m built to do cross-country, even if my health wasn’t weaker than a wet tissue. You can find a doctor to take me to, I’m not gonna complain about that, but in the meantime, I wanna drink the pain away and refrain from finding out if my skin can slide down my legs like shitty thigh highs. We good?”

Silence.

“Great. Call when you find someone willing to treat me, I’m gonna get wasted in the bathroom.”

Hey, Touya.

It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I’ve been pretty busy lately; the Commission has me doing a lot of stuff apart from patrol and managing my agency, so I haven’t really been able to get a day off until now. 

Your siblings have been pretty good, from what I can tell. Tsukuyomi (he’s my intern, I mentioned him last time I came) tells me that Shouto’s doing pretty well. Failed his licensing exam, but he got it on the second try. He’s working at your father’s agency with a friend. Midoriya, I think, the kid who kept breaking his fingers at the Sports Festival. I think Natsuo’s doing okay too, I probably would have heard about it through Rumi if something terrible happened. Fuyumi’s doing great. Rumi finally proposed (she had that ring in her knife drawer for over a year, I swear), and they’re getting married in August. Rumi’s asked (well, more like demanded, but you know her) me to be her best man (Ryuukyuu’s gonna be her maid of honor. Not quite the traditional wedding format, but Rumi does what she wants), so I suppose I’ll finally have to talk to your siblings, at some point or another.

Is it weird that I’m nervous about speaking to them? They always sounded so nice when you talked about them, but I’m always afraid of what they’ll think of me, or what they’ll ask. They looked confused when I went to your funeral, so I know you never really talked about training at the Commission, or me, for that matter. I felt out of place, and I don’t want to intrude on anything. How would that even go? “Hey, remember your dead brother, Touya? We used to make out under stairwells in a secret government training facility. Surprise!” You’d find it hilarious, but I don’t think it’d go over well.

That’s a little silly to be caught up on. I’ll probably wing it, say we were school friends or something. I don’t want to upset them. Besides, it’s Rumi who’s gonna be the in-law, not me, so it should be fine. Rumi told me Fuyumi’s keeping a seat for you, on her side of the aisle. I think that’s sweet of her. Shouto’s supposed to be the ring bearer, though I don’t think he’s agreed yet, and Natsuo’s gonna be best man for her. Rumi’s trying to convince Tsunagu to be the flower boy. I don’t think he’s going to say yes, but she’s stubborn and pushy. I’m tempted to suggest asking All Might instead—he might have retired, but he’s a sweetheart and I don’t doubt he’d say yes. It’d be the funniest shit if it happened, I’d have to video record it and leave it here for you or something.

Well... I’m not sure if you’d find All Might so funny anymore. He retired after a huge villain attack at Kamino Ward. Had to fight some ancient supervillain called ‘All for One’. Your father’s the No.1 hero, now. Pretty sure that’d piss you off. He still calls me a child, funnily enough, despite the fact I now occupy the place he had for over twenty years. Ha. Your old boyfriend, the No.2 hero? That’s kinda funny.

I’ve made friends since I last came to see you. Well, I think they’re friends. Rumi’s really my only point of reference, but I do like spending time with them (mostly). They’re really weird, but they’re nice, in their own way. One of them’s hot, and we’ve been flirting. He reminds me of you, a lot. I’m… kind of at a loss of what to do. Rumi’s telling me I should just let him rail me, but… it feels sort of like I’m forgetting you, or replacing you, if I move on like that. And yeah, I get the whole point of moving on is “moving on,” but you’re special to me. I can just imagine all those relationship books saying things like “high school romances aren’t meant to last,” or something like that, but we weren’t exactly a typical high school romance, were we? I can practically hear you making fun of me for being so sentimental. Well, too bad, I’m gonna miss you whether you like it or not.

I’ve started distancing myself from the HPSC, as well. You always said they were terrible to me, and I guess understood that, but now I suppose I’m doing something about it, since we couldn’t escape together like you always talked about. I remember you trying to convince me to escape to America together or something. You wanted to start a band. I’m not exactly piercing my tongue and dying my hair black—they still own me, you know that—but I’m not letting them walk over me anymore either.

They’re calling me in now. Mandatory. I suppose they don’t appreciate the meaning of a day off, but I guess I need to finish this up, now.

I hope you’re proud of me, Touya.

Loving you, now and forever,
Keigo.

kurogiri’s favorite
@everyone

anyone mind telling me why the hpsc called me in on my first day off in months to talk about, in order: a break-in and massive information leak, a scandalous interview, and high-property damage chase through hirosaki

Stain Stan
yeah, the break-in would be me and shigaraki

it was just recon, tho, we got a lot of info

kurogiri’s favorite
hm.

prepare for trouble (and make it double)
me and toga gave an interview to a really nice lady!

it was fucking boring

Magic Mike
Dabi angered a supervillain and he chased us through Hirosaki.

kurogiri’s favorite
well, it was the chase that tipped the scales and got me called in so

@frankenstein’s toaster

give me one good reason why i shouldn’t fly over and strangle you right now

frankenstein’s toaster
kinky

kurogiri’s favorite
listen, it’s a really shitty day for me

so unless you want me to rip off your burnt dick and feed it to you

cut the shit

frankenstein’s toaster
wait no dont do that

💖🔪✨Himikuwu✨🔪💖
do it

frankenstein’s toaster
i was being a dick and i’m sorry okay

please don’t rip my dick off

💖🔪✨Himikuwu✨🔪💖
do it

frankenstein’s toaster
no!

kurogiri’s favorite
i’ll take your plea under consideration

frankenstein’s toaster
fear

snake skin
if that’s over with

we can move on to finding ways to speed up our investigation

Stain Stan
i can already tell this isn’t going to go great

snake skin
apparently one of the 1a kids is pretty good at analysis

kurogiri’s favorite
no

snake skin
you didn’t even let me finish

kurogiri’s favorite
and you can’t solve all your problems by attacking 1a

snake skin
fuck off i’m in charge

kurogiri’s favorite
@mist mom

snake skin
oh you fucker

mist mom
Tomura, you promised you weren’t going to approach any students.

snake skin
they’re kids, nobody likes kids, what’s the fucking problem

Magic Mike
You might be projecting a little bit, Shigaraki.

snake skin
kids are horrible

kurogiri’s favorite
you want attention, kids take it

it’s called jealousy, get over it

snake skin
…

your username is stupid

kurogiri’s favorite
what did we just say about jealousy

💖🔪✨Himikuwu✨🔪💖
hello 110 i just witnessed a murder

frankenstein’s toaster
i should’ve brought popcorn this is fkn hilarious

prepare for trouble (and make it double)
oh wow hawks

did you have a bad day?

he seems fine to me

kurogiri’s favorite
yes.

and since all of you (except kurogiri) managed to make it exponentially worse

consider yourselves on thin fucking ice

snake skin
fine we won’t do anything with 1a

get your feathered ass over here tomorrow to help out, if you’re gonna be such a bitch about this

kurogiri’s favorite
i am this close to murdering you

frankenstein’s toaster
do it, it’ll be hot

kurogiri’s favorite
you too

frankenstein’s toaster
a little less hot

“Exactly how much information did you steal?” Hawks asked, flicking through a box of files on the floor with a disbelieving look on his face.

“Eh…” Spinner started, tilting his hand. “We combed the entire classified archive and took what looked interesting. So, a lot.”

“Great,” Hawks muttered, running a hand down his face.

Dabi snorted. “So how are we splitting this up?” he asked, crouching next to Hawks and looking over the sea of information. “We just take a box each and look for plausible leads?”

“Sounds good enough,” the hero shrugged.

They each reached for the box closest to them, settling into a companionable silence, broken only by the rustling of papers and files. Dabi flicked through the files quickly, separating them into piles for ‘possible’ and ‘bullshit’.

Suddenly, a choked sound cut through the room, and Dabi glanced over to where Hawks sat next to him, looking sick. He raised a brow at him. “If you’re going to throw up, please make sure it’s not in my general direction.”

Hawks blinked and glanced back at him, awareness flooding his glazed eyes, though they still looked a little… absent. He opened and closed his mouth for a moment before muttering, “Yeah, sorry about that.”

Dabi glanced at the file in his hands as he closed it, catching only a glimpse of white hair and blue eyes. Something tugged in the back of his mind as Hawks set it aside into his ‘bullshit’ pile. “Hey, birdie. You okay?”

Hawks blinked and startled again, whipping his head around to stare at Dabi. Dabi frowned at the reaction; it was pretty hard to startle Hawks, so he wasn’t sure what the deal was. “What’d you just say?”

He stared at the hero for a few moments. “I said, ‘you okay?’”

“Oh,” Hawks said in response, seemingly deflating. “I thought you said Ke—nevermind." He shook his head. "I’m just hearing things. Sorry, I’ve been pretty off my game this week.” He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes for a moment before staring up at the ceiling and sighing. He pulled out his phone to check the time and stood up. “I have to go.”

“Alright,” Dabi said slowly, watching the hero stretch. “You sure you’re fine?”

“Perfect.” Hawks smiled at him. Dabi’s gut twisted. It was wrong, but he didn’t know why. “Be careful of how you get rid of those files, though. I’m not sure dumping it all at the media is a great idea right now.”

“Alright, whatever you say.” Dabi shrugged disinterestedly, turning back to his box of files. Hawks could take care of himself.

“Later!” the hero called as he left, and Dabi obligingly waved over his shoulder as Toga, Twice, and Spinner all called back to him.

“Hawks, hey!”

Hawks perked up at the sound of Rumi’s voice, twisting around to see the fellow hero shoving through the crowd towards him, a white head with red spots following behind her. He ignored the nervous twist of his gut. “There’s the happy couple!” he laughed, cutting himself off with a strangled noise as Rumi did her best to shatter his ribs in a hug.

“Been a while since we got a chance to catch up outside of work,” she said, setting him down after one last squeeze. The slight woman who had been following behind his friend caught up and slipped her hand into Rumi’s.

“If you’re suggesting that we go clubbing, I’m gonna have to say a firm ‘no’ to that,” he said, grinning. “Got a wedding to start planning, don’t we?”

Rumi’s eyes lit up. “Right! God, I can’t believe I never got you two in the same room,” she laughed. “Hawks, this is Fuyumi, my fiancé.”

“Hey,” he greeted, holding his hand out for the other to shake. Fuyumi offered him a small smile as she shook his hand, and-

“It’s nice to see you again, Hawks.”

-apparently, they were addressing the elephant in the room. Was it in the room if they were outside? Not the point. His smile tightened. “You as well.”

Rumi blinked, looking between the two of them. “You two know each other?” She suddenly turned and whacked Hawks over the head. “Why didn’t you tell me? I coulda introduced you two sooner!”

“Hey, hey, don’t punch the merchandise!” he squawked, ducked away from her arm.

“What merchandise, I only see a KFC bucket with legs!”

Fuyumi laughed, like winter bells, effectively distracting the two from their quarrel before it turned physical. “Don’t worry about it, Rumi,” she giggled, face quickly calming as she continued talking. “Me and Hawks only met once, and it wasn’t really under great circumstances.”

“What, he save you before or something?”

“Funeral,” Hawks cut in with a flat voice, face falling into its default dead look.

Rumi’s eyes widened. “Oh, shit - sorry, won’t bring it up again.”

“It’s fine,” Fuyumi said, squeezing Rumi’s hand. “You didn’t know.” Her eyes flicked back over to Hawks, and he thanked his years of training for keeping the growing pit of dread he felt from showing on his face. “Hawks, I know this is a lot to ask, but would you mind telling me what you remember about him…”

“Touya?” he asked. A guilty, but hopeful look passed across her face.

“Please—if it’s no trouble.”

“Not right now,” he said. “This is supposed to be about you and Rumi getting hitched, but…” he rummaged around in his pocket, eventually procuring an old receipt for the yakitori place down the street from his apartment and a pen, scribbling down his number. “Here, if you want to meet up some other time, or call-”

Fuyumi took the paper with lights in her eyes, beaming at him. “Yes, thank you so much. It’s great to finally know one of his school friends.”

Hawks’ stomach twisted, and he fought down a wave of nausea.

“We can get away from the hell, Kei,” Touya murmured into his hair, spindly arms wrapped around his waist. “You and me. They’d never be able to hurt us again,” he promised, pressing a kiss against Keigo’s smiling lips-

God, he wished he’d been mean enough to say no to Fuyumi’s request.

“Yeah,” Hawks agreed, a plastic smile on his face. “It’s no problem.” He turned to Rumi, who had respectfully averted her gaze during the conversation to at least pretend she wouldn’t have been able to hear their conversation from three blocks away. “Ready to plan the wedding of the century?”

Rumi grinned. “Oh, hell yeah.”

queen thumper
you alright?

your heartbeat sounded like death metal earlier

chicken wings, chicken wings, hotdog and baloney
yeah im fine

queen thumper
okay im calling bullshit right now

chicken wings, chicken wings, hotdog and baloney
let it go rumi

queen thumper
alright, if thats how you want it to be elsa

but if you need to talk

im the best listener

chicken wings, chicken wings, hotdog and baloney
do you want me to make the obvious rabbit joke or the present mic joke

queen thumper
present mic joke is more original

chicken wings, chicken wings, hotdog and baloney
i’ll take it under advisement

queen thumper
but seriously hawks, you always get pretty down this time of year

a lot worse this year tho

chicken wings, chicken wings, hotdog and baloney
i’m just really stressed rn

queen thumper
you??? freely admitting to stress or feeling pressure of any kind???

hawks how close are you to a complete meltdown

chicken wings, chicken wings, hotdog and baloney
it's not that bad

queen thumper
oh, now you're trying to walk it back

not fooling me

chicken wings, chicken wings, hotdog and baloney
rumi it's fine, you don't need to worry about me

queen thumper
take a day off, hawks, youre about to have a nervous breakdown

i can cover your patrol next sunday, sleep in, take some time for yourself

go full spa day if you have to

i’ll join you in the evening to make sure you’re relaxing

chicken wings, chicken wings, hotdog and baloney
what no sundays are your day off

queen thumper
consider it me paying you back for all those times you covered for me so i could go on dates w yumi

chicken wings, chicken wings, hotdog and baloney
im not sure…

queen thumper
take the day off or i add tsunagu to the chat

chicken wings, chicken wings, hotdog and baloney
suddenly i am taking a detour to go pick up bath bombs and face masks

queen thumper
good boy

chicken wings, chicken wings, hotdog and baloney
thanks rumi

youre a really good friend

queen thumper
right back at you

chicken shit

chicken wings, chicken wings, hotdog and baloney
wow and here i thought we were having a moment

queen thumper
we were, but i refuse to let this conversation end on an emotional note

chicken wings, chicken wings, hotdog and baloney
the fact that you of all people are getting married astounds me

queen thumper
sucks to suck, doesnt it single boy

chicken wings, chicken wings, hotdog and baloney
fuck off

queen thumper
just let that hot guy ur always complaining about rail u

chicken wings, chicken wings, hotdog and baloney
not having this conversation right now

queen thumper
yes having this conversation right now

hawks

hawks

hawks dont you dare fucking ignore me

chicken wings, chicken wings, hotdog and baloney
✔️read 10:52pm

queen thumper
i am fucking murdering you next time i see you

“The League of Villains has certainly become more active in recent months,” Nemuri muttered, hand pressed over her mouth as she looked over the papers in front of her.

Shouta grunted his agreement. “Their activities are going to prove pretty problematic soon if they don’t slow down.”

“What do you mean?” Hizashi asked, leaning back in his chair to look upside down at the two of them.

“They’ve started gaining public support—people have started calling them the ‘League of Vigilantes,’ if you can believe it.”

“It’s not that hard to believe,” Nemuri said, looking up from the essays she was grading. “If you think about it, the only crimes they themselves committed before all this was breaking and entering, assault, attempted murder, for Shigaraki, and kidnapping. When most people hear League of Villains, they’re expecting them be a bunch of mini All for Ones.” She shrugged, twirling her pen between her fingers. “After all that, pretty much all of their crimes can be charged as vigilantism, and since they’ve been so high-profile from the start, it was bound to be a problem from the get-go. You know how the public gets over vigilantes.”

“Especially ones that are as effective as the League has been,” Shouta muttered, a frown on his face.

“Hey, Shouta, can you help me read Midoriya’s paper?” Hizashi asked, chair tilting back even further so he could stick the paper under Shouta's nose. “His writing got all tiny and excited again.”

Shouta rolled his eyes, but snatched the paper out of his hands and began going over it with his own red pen regardless.

“The League’s definitely trying something, though,” he muttered as his eyes scanned through the problem child’s minuscule handwriting.

“They’re always trying something,” Nemuri said. “We’re just not sure what.”

“We can actually sort of deduce what they’re trying to do going by what we know about them,” Shouta said, circling a section of the paper in red and adding a note about going off on tangents. “Shigaraki’s whole thing is tearing down hero society, most represented by his attempts to kill All Might. Some of the people who joined the League as well, like Spinner and Toga, we know that they joined because of Stain, and that doesn’t bode very well either.”

“You’re saying that they’re doing this to tear down the hero system?” Hizashi asked. “This doesn’t seem like the most practical way to do it.”

“What, just because—Hizashi, what is this essay even supposed to be about? Midoriya’s all over the place.”

“I let them choose whatever topic they wanted.”

“That explains a lot. Anyway, just because they’re not running around murdering heroes doesn’t mean that they aren’t being effective. They’re just doing what vigilantes do, but on a nation-wide scale.”

Nemuri laughed at the confused and lost look on Hizashi’s face. “You’re primarily a daytime hero, so you don’t have to deal with vigilantes as often, but... they have a tendency of shaking faith in the hero system, especially the good ones. You know, protecting the people the heroes can’t, bringing down justice without fear of high-ups trying to sweep something under the rug. They show how we’re flawed, and that can get pretty dangerous.”

Hizashi’s eyes widened behind his sunglasses in understanding, finally setting his chair back on all four legs and spinning around to face them fully. “And the League is the highest profile group of vigilantes we’ve ever seen.”

Shouta nodded. “Students have been spending a lot of time on it in Current Events. Every week, we have to have another lesson on how what they’re doing is going to affect the public perception of us. I’ve never had to spend so much time with a class on current events until this year. I’m considering just setting up a weekly assignment where they have to keep up to date on the League’s activities. We’ve actually started to fall behind in some other subjects because we have to spend so much time on the League.”

“The League is powerful, quick, and clever. They don’t have to worry about bureaucracy like we do, so they’ve been solving cold cases left and right.” Nemuri shrugged and flipped over to the next paper to grade. “It’s started this whole discussion about them bringing down crime rings and bringing home people we were never able to, and that’s going to get pretty damaging soon.”

“And the information leaks…” Hizashi murmured, a dour look on his face. Shouta glanced at him but didn’t comment on his down demeanor.

“Those are probably the worst part of it,” Shouta said, glaring at the paper in front of him as if it could solve all his problems. “You remember Shinoda Kei.”

“Yeah…”

“And it’s all just gone downhill from there,” Nemuri commented. “The Hanzou Cartel cover-up got a few heroes’ licenses revoked, and you’ve seen the trial on television, and the protests against the TPD are only getting larger.”

“And they just broke into the HPSC,” Hizashi continued. “They won’t tell us what was taken, so who knows what the hell we’re going to find out, or what kind of damage it can do.”

“The Commission’s a government body, so most of its activities are required to be made public record by law, but…”

“It’s gotta be some seriously shady stuff if they’re refusing to even warn anybody outside of the higher staff in the Commission what was taken. They’re not even giving us an estimate of how damaging this could be.”

Shouta hummed his agreement. “All we know if that they took a significant amount of information from the Commission’s classified archives, and if that information is anywhere near as damaging as what the League’s been releasing so far-”

“The reaction’s going to be brutal. I’d be surprised if we didn’t have riots in the street,” Nemuri said.

“Shigaraki’s gotten clever, and we have no idea where to find the League - we don’t have another chance like the one Yaoyorozu gave us back at Kamino.” Shouta’s hand clenched around his pen, fingers going white at the pressure as he scowled. “The League’s trying to cut down society as we know it, and they’re succeeding.”

“Alright, so the Suzuki Yakuza lead didn’t follow through,” Shigaraki announced as he burst back into the bar, causing everyone to look up at him. “However, we no longer have any competition or leads left in Shibuya.”

“Cross it off the map, then?” Spinner asked, glancing up from his file. Shigaraki grunted, and Dabi watched as Spinner stretched over and crossed Shibuya off the large map of Greater Tokyo on the wall. “We’ve completely finished Tokyo then.”

Shigaraki hummed, walking over to scan their WHO THE FUCK IS DABI? wall, while Dabi himself simply shrugged and continued reviewing files, listening to the conversation around him as it happened. “We’ve cleared the largest level in the game, then, but what about the rest of it?”

“We only have Kawasaki and Sagamihara left in Greater Tokyo. Hawks said that the group of heroes he has working on this is about halfway done with the areas they’re focusing on.”

“That’s where we’ll be focusing next, then,” Shigaraki decided before turning to face the rest of the room. “Have we finished sorting through the files?”

“‘We,’” Dabi repeated mockingly under his breath.

“Fuck off, you discount easy bake oven. Have you finished?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dabi rolled his eyes, snapping the folder in his hand shut, tossing it into the large pile of folders in the center of the room. “I’m done.”

“Great,” Shigaraki said, turning to Toga. “Go get some blood; you and Kurogiri are dropping off all the bullshit folders, it’s getting cramped in here.”

Toga beamed and squealed in excitement, bouncing off to her room to go find whatever blood sample she wanted to try out.

Dabi fondly shook his head, slowly standing up and helping Spinner and Twice pack all the bullshit files into boxes. “We’re getting close,” Twice chirped happily. “All this effort and we’re finally closing in! This is pointless!”

“Yeah,” Dabi grinned. “We’ve made more progress in the past…” he paused, trying to remember how long it had been.

“Seven months,” Spinner offered.

“Yeah, more progress in the past seven months than I have in eight years.”

Toga bounced back into the room, or rather, a middle-aged woman in a pressed suit who honestly looked deranged with Toga’s excitement on her face. “I’m ready!” she cheered.

Shigaraki grunted and waved at Kurogiri, who took his cue to open a portal to a newspaper office halfway across Tokyo. Toga hummed happily and picked up the first box of files, skipping through the portal before coming back a minute later to grab another. The rest of the League watched the process in relative silence.

Dabi frowned. Something was wrong. “I feel like I’m forgetting something,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair as he thought. Spinner and Twice glanced at him, while Shigaraki simply rolled his eyes and kept his attention on whatever free-to-play game he had going on his phone.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll remember whatever it is,” Twice said, clapping a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You forget fucking everything!”

“Yeah,” Spinner agreed. “No offense, Dabi, but-”

“I already know I’m going to take offense to this.”

“-I’ve literally seen you text the group chat asking if any of us had seen your phone.”

“Harvey Dent’s done it more than once, don’t sugar coat it,” Shigaraki cackled.

“Fuck you, coconut flakes!”

“Right back at you, patchwork!”

“Wanna fucking go, chapstick poster boy?”

“Let’s fucking go, Evanescence!”

Just as Dabi and Shigaraki launched themselves at each other growling out insults, Dabi only just barely heard Kurogiri’s tired sigh before a portal opened between them.

The past year he’d had with his class was really fucking testing Shouta’s will to live. Most other years he’d been a teacher, he just expelled those with no potential (or max stupidity), suffered through every field trip and training camp, slept all day during the breaks—but this particular class, throughout this particular year...

Shouta was 95% convinced he’d found a grey hair earlier that morning. He wondered if he should quit teaching, or maybe heroism all together once the school year was over. He half considered just letting himself get mauled on patrol so he could isolate himself with a nice pension. Become a recluded cat person who didn’t have to deal with all this bullshit.

But he didn’t do that.

Instead, he was stuck with all his students staring expectantly up at him, all sat around the dining table in the common room, not marching down to Nedzu’s office to turn in his two-week notice.

“So,” he began, looking over his silent class, “I’m sure you’re all smart enough to figure out why the staff is being required to meet with all of you on Sunday instead of waiting until tomorrow, especially if you’ve all been keeping up with the news.”

NEW DOCUMENTS REVEAL GOVERNMENT-SANCTIONED QUIRK EXPERIMENTATION
By Saitou Gorou

A new leak by the League of Villains reveals the Hero Public Safety Commission has partaken in highly illegal quirk experimentation. It is currently confirmed that a facility in Chiba was used to perform experiments on criminals with life-sentences. We are currently working to confirm the identities of those involved and those impacted. The HPSC has released a statement denying the allegations… Read more

His class remained silent, but they nodded their heads quietly.

“The League of Villains has leaked possibly the most damning information yet, and more is still coming out as we speak.” Shouta glanced down at the notes from the staff meeting and sighed before he continued. “It’s best that I inform you now how we believe this is going to impact your education here at U.A., and what we’re doing to try and mitigate any ramifications that could come upon any of you.”

Kirishima hesitantly raised his hand, a troubled look on his face. Shouta nodded his head at the student. “Sensei, what do you mean by ramifications on us? I didn’t think anything had come out about the education system, specifically.”

Shouta sighed, mentally crossing out any hope he had of squeezing in a nap before his patrol that night. “It’s not a direct matter, nothing has explicitly come out about U.A., Shiketsu, or any of the other hero schools. It’s more of what we’re expecting to be an osmosis effect of what’s come out about the Commission’s activities. Any of you know which new scandal out of the dozens that have appeared this week is most likely to affect public perception of U.A.?”

HERO COMMISSION FOUND TO HAVE SECRET POLICE
By Itou Aiko

New documents revealed by the LoV, and summarily fact-checked and followed up on, reveals the Hero Public Safety Commission to be guilty of ordering hits on those they consider to be “dangerous persons.” These persons aren’t top Yakuza bosses or trafficking ring organizers - it’s those with information the HPSC doesn’t want getting out. The HPSC has released a statement denying… Read more

Midoriya hesitantly raised his hand after a moment of silence. Shouta wasn’t surprised and made a loose gesture for the kid to talk. “It’s about what came out about the Legacy Program and Hawks, isn’t it.”

Shouta watched as the faces of some of the students fell flat at the statement. He wasn’t surprised that not all of them knew about it yet—it had only come out two and a half hours prior. Tokoyami looked particularly stricken. “Yeah. We’re expecting a lot of public outcry about hero training programs being targeted at minors, and we’re currently not sure about whether or not this might lead to U.A. being shut down.”

“What?” Kaminari cried, similarly shocked exclamations escaping some of those surrounding them.

HERO COMMISSION ACCUSED OF BLACKMAIL AND EXTORTION
By Minami Miyako

Another new information leak by the League of Villains has revealed records of the Hero Public Safety Commission blackmailing and extorting dozens of heroes into silence, with threats of blacklisting, contract termination, having their licenses revoked, to even bringing false charges against them. The HPSC has released a statement… Read more

Shouta flashed his quirk, and the class quickly settled down. He sighed as he tilted his head back, squeezing out his eye drops. “Our current plan of action, which we’re going to have more meetings about to finalize over the next week, is to cancel this year’s entrance exam.” He looked back down at his students. “There will be no new Class 1-A, B, C, D, E, etcetera, etcetera next year. You’re one of the last two hero classes to be trained at U.A. High School.”

“So… is U.A. shutting down, then?” Uraraka asked worriedly, wringing her hands together. Several of the other students shared the same concerned look as the bubbly girl.

“U.A. High School will be shutting down,” Shouta said, barreling over anymore shocked exclamations before they could happen. “U.A. University will be starting.”

“U.A…. University?” one of the students muttered.

“U.A. will be using the next three years to transition to a university format. First-year teachers will be using the next year to prepare, and the year after that, we will begin entrance exams for first-year U.A. university students. Second-year teachers will use that year to prepare, and third-year teachers the year after that. It has been planned to try and allow you all to continue and finish your education at U.A. High School, and allow all those who will not be able to have a chance this year to apply at U.A. University in two years' time.”

Yaoyarozu raised her hand, and Shouta nodded for her to speak. “Will other hero schools also be following this approach?”

“We’re currently not sure,” Shouta admitted. “However, with the severity and amount of public outcry already happening, we’re expecting legislation to raise the hero training program age limit to at least eighteen. As all of you are already enrolled, you might be exempt from that. However Nedzu wants all of us to inform you now that while we will try our best to allow you to continue your education here, assuming your parents still give their permission, that the hero program here might be transitioned into another General Education class.”

Shouta tried his best to not let his gaze linger too long on Shinsou, who looked particularly pissed at the idea of having just fought tooth and nail to get out of Gen Ed, only to be kicked right back come the new school year.

“You would all, of course, be automatically accepted into U.A. university as an extra class for that year, should this happen, but we decided it would be best if we informed you of this now instead of during tomorrow’s press conference.”

His class was silent, faces solemn.

“Any questions?”

Every hand raised.

Shouta sighed. Definitely not getting that nap in before patrol.

HERO COMMISSION INFORMATION LEAK SHOW RECORDS OF QUIRK TRAFFICKING; NO.2 HERO HAWKS MAIN VICTIM
By Kanda Jiro

In perhaps one of the most shocking new Hero Public Safety Commission scandals to be revealed by the League of Villains this week, new documents that have been extensively followed-up on and verified reveal No.2 Hero Hawks to be a victim of quirk trafficking by the HPSC. The Commission gained an interest in the young Hawks, or as we now know his name to be, Takami Keigo after he saved nine people from a high-speed car crash at the young age of six. Takami was then sold to the Commission by his mother, Takami Tomie, and he was taken to a government-sponsored facility to join a training program known as the Legacy Program.

Records show very few of those in the Legacy Program to have survived, and none of the children recruited into the program were allowed to leave without having their memories altered if decided to have no potential in the program. Takami’s name was buried by the HPSC when he was six, to hide any possible relation to his father, known as Takami the Thief, a famous robber and serial killer in the slums of Fukuoka.

Records of Takami’s training are brutal to read, ranging from combat training to interrogation, even to lessons on withstanding torture, beginning from when he was only eleven years old… Read more

Hawks sighed happily as he sank deeper into the almost scorching water. He almost never had an opportunity to use the lavish tub (borderline a pool) his apartment had come with. He might have to take more days off, if only to have the time to feel his muscles unwind and relax in the heat of the water. Having left all his feathers, except for the soft down close to the bone, underneath a heat lamp in the living room, Hawks was very much in a comfortable bliss right at that moment.

He stretched, groaning at the pleasant burn of his sore muscles. Both his phones were turned completely off and tucked away in a desk drawer so he didn’t even have to look at them. His agency knew to forward any calls they might have for him to Rumi, and while she might not have an agency of her own, she was smart and could definitely keep the Aery from falling apart for a day, at the very least.

Hawks leaned back, closing his eyes as he relaxed. No heroes, no sidekicks, no Commission, no League, no Dabi and his stupid blue eyes, no nothing. He allowed himself a small smile.

He startled when he heard a pounding at his front door, choking slightly on the barely lukewarm bathwater. Shit, he’d fallen asleep? Hawks frowned as he lifted his hand out of the water, his fingers and palm pruned to the extreme until his skin faded into talons. The pounding at his door began again.

“Hawks? You in there?”

He relaxed. It was just Rumi. “Just a minute!” he shouted back, moving one of his feathers in the living room to unlock and open the door as he crawled out of the tub and reached for a towel. “Come in!” He returned his attention to quickly drying down his body and patting the water out of his down feathers as she entered his apartment. “Gimme a sec, I’m getting dressed,” he called as he slipped on boxers and sweatpants. Tying his halter top at the neck, he grabbed his towel and started drying his hair as he exited the bathroom, freezing as he saw what awaited him in the living room.

Rumi was there, still in full costume and looking troubled, which was never a great sign, and beside her stood a plain man in a trench coat, leafing through his briefcase. They both turned to him, giving him an unidentifiable look. Hawks briefly wondered if it was possible to be underdressed in his own home. Probably. But in his own defense, he had no idea they were coming.

“What’s going on?” he asked after a moment, settling his towel around his shoulders instead of continuing to dry his hair, calling his wings back to him. The warmed feathers proved a comforting weight against his back.

“I apologize for the intrusion,” the man next to Rumi said, bowing slightly. “But I’m afraid it’s important. I’m assuming you’ve seen the news?”

Hawks blinked. A feeling of dread that had become all too familiar the past few months settled in his stomach. “If it’s something that happened today, then no,” he responded, slowly making his way over to the kitchen. The move was less for practicality and more to get behind the counter that separated it from the living room. He could handle people seeing his talons, but he wasn’t very comfortable with a stranger being able to see his fucked-up bird feet. “I took the day off, no exception, so I’ve turned both my phones off.”

“That explains why you weren’t answering my calls,” Rumi muttered under her breath.

Hawks took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. It was becoming very, very clear that something was wrong, and it wasn’t going to do him any favors to panic.

“I suppose it’s best that I get right to the point then, instead of making you wait,” the man said. Hawks watched him warily, plucking a glass off the counter and filling it with water. “My name is Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa, from the Musutafu Police Department.” He sat at the counter, tapping his talons nervously against the glass. “A case has been opened against the Hero Public Safety Commission for Quirk Trafficking and Child Abuse, amongst other charges.”

Hawks forced himself to keep breathing. So that’s what it was about. “How effective would it be for me to pretend like I have no idea what you’re talking about, and that I have nothing to do with this.”

The detective—Tsukauchi—gave him a sympathetic look as he shook his head. “Not very. You’ve already been identified as a key witness in the case, and if you don’t want to testify, you’re still enough of a person of interest that we expect you to be in danger.”

Hawks let out a bitter laugh. “The Moonlights, right? Their execution squad. You’re afraid there’s going to be a hit on my head.” He rubbed a hand over his face through his hair, catching briefly in the wet tangles. “Thought I’d make it to at least twenty-six before they decided to take me out.”

“Hawks…” Rumi murmured, taking a few steps forward to lean over the counter, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“How’s this gonna go down?” Hawks asked in a monotone voice, already exhausted from the conversation.

“Due to the determined threat on your life, Miruko is currently here in an official capacity to act as a security detail.”

“Ain’t nobody gonna sneak up on you with my ears around here.” Rumi grinned, and Hawks found a slight bit of comfort in her confidence.

“We’re still working out the details, but the current plan is to have a rotating roster of heroes staying with you to ensure your safety. We’ll be contacting you within a week about the case if you’re willing to testify.”

Hawks shrugged as best he could with how tense his shoulders had become. “Might as well, if everybody knows already about this. Can’t get much worse.”

Tsukauchi nodded. “Thank you, Takami-san. An-”

Hawks knew he was fast, he was famous for it, but right at that moment, he’d be surprised if anything would ever be faster than the speed at which his stress levels ratcheted up at hearing the name. It was fast enough that he didn’t have time to even think about calming himself before he felt the muscles in his hand forcibly contracting, and the glass in his hand shattered under his grip. His hand tightened into a fist, shards of glass digging into his palm.

The detective startled at the sudden sound, and Rumi flinched back. It took all of Hawks’ willpower to force his other hand to grip his arm instead of grabbing Rumi; he didn’t need his dumbass predator instincts grabbing Rumi (p r e y) and making the situation worse. His hand felt warm as blood welled up from the sharp glass, and further up, his arm stung as he felt the pinpricks of his talons digging into his skin.

“God, Hawks,” Rumi breathed in shock, eyes wide. “Fuck—are you okay? Shit, you’re bleeding, lemme see-”

“Can’t,” Hawks wheezed out, throat tight. It’d been over a year since he last stress gripped, and even longer since he’d done it in front of another person. “Not gonna be able to let go for a while. ‘S part of my quirk.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Rumi asked, and Hawks looked up at her and shit he’d made her worried.

He shook his head.

“Sooner we get this conversation over with, sooner I’ll be able to let go,” he muttered. “Just—don’t call me that.”

The detective looked shaken, Hawks could feel his eyes lingering on the red streaks he knew were running down his arm and hand, but nodded nonetheless. His fingers tightened at the attention, and Hawks chewed at the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from making any noise.

Tsukauchi seemed to speed through the rest of the conversation, only calling him by his hero name (Hawks appreciated that), and soon left with a promise to call the next day with more information and to keep him updated.

Hawks tersely bid the detective goodbye as he left, and sank further into his seat, awkwardly burying his head into the crook of his elbow as the door shut. Rumi had crossed over to be on the same side of the counter as him, at some point, and was rubbing circles into his back, right between his wings.

“Hawks?” she asked quietly. He gave a thought to how it was vaguely disconcerting for Rumi to be so subdued. He turned his head, eyes skipping over the small puddle of red that was smeared underneath his arm to look at her. Worry was clear as day on her face.

“Keigo,” he muttered, tongue almost stumbling on the name he hadn’t spoken in years. “You can call me Keigo if you want.”

She gave him a soft smile. Hawks felt as if his entire day had taken place in the Twilight Zone, by that point.

“Keigo, then. Anything I can do to help you stop gripping that glass like a teddy bear?”

Hawks—Keigo? Was he Keigo, now? Keigo let out a choked laugh. “Turn off the lights? Helps me calm down.”

Rumi nodded, and Keigo listened to her footsteps pad across the floor and the click of the light switch before the room was bathed in darkness, the only light coming through the nightlife outside his window. He closed his eyes, feeling his muscles uncoil. Rumi’s hand returned to rubbing his back, and a few minutes later, the shards of glass made an odd, chime-like sound as they fell onto the counter from his shredded palms.

Although he knew his cheeks were blotchy and he could feel a pounding headache from his swollen sinuses, Keigo was really glad that his quirk made him unable to cry. He’d had enough jarring emotion for one day.

yakitori simp @hawksofficial
I take one day off. I turn my phone off for one day.

yakitori simp @hawksofficial
Replying to @hawksofficial
It’s pretty late, and my agency’s PR department has already gone home for the night, but I want to address this as soon as possible: yes, the documents the League of Villains has released about me and the Legacy Program are true. There’s no point in me lying about that.

yakitori simp @hawksofficial
Replying to @hawksofficial
No, I will not be accepting any interview requests or answering any questions about this. Not only is there an open case about this, and my safety somewhat at risk due to the situation, I am also not comfortable talking about this at the moment. Maybe in the future, but not now.

yakitori simp @hawksofficial
Replying to @hawksofficial
I do want to address this, however: amidst all this, my real name has been made public knowledge, and I’ve noticed people have already begun using it in place of my hero name. I'd highly prefer if this wasn’t the case and that all of you continue referring to me as “Hawks.”

yakitori simp @hawksofficial
Replying to @hawksofficial
Ever since I was six, and in a way, before that, the only thing that has ever been mine was my name. The Commission basically owned everything else, including my body. But my name was mine, and it is mine, and I deeply dislike people using it without my express permission.

yakitori simp @hawksofficial
Replying to @hawksofficial
You can use my name for official, informative purposes, like news articles about what’s been revealed today, but apart from that, for unrelated purposes where my real name is unnecessary, I’d prefer to be referred to as Hawks.

yakitori simp @hawksofficial
Replying to @hawksofficial
Thank you all for understanding.

tsukuyomi @ reveling in the dark @dementiaravenway
Replying to @hawksofficial
I’m sorry this happened to you, Hawks. It’s been an honor, learning under your mentorship.

yakitori simp @hawksofficial
Replying to @dementiaravenway
You’re the best intern I’ve ever had. Gonna miss working with you while I’m in court.

tsukuyomi @ reveling in the dark @dementiaravenway
Replying to @hawksofficial
I’m the only intern you’ve ever had.

yakitori simp @hawksofficial
Replying to @dementiaravenway
You’re probably the only intern I’ll ever take, too, so don’t worry Tsukuyomi! You’ll always be my favorite baby bird intern ^.^

chargebolt go wheeyy @irlpikachu
Replying to @hawksofficial and @dementiaravenway
tokoyami, amongst all the shit going down in the world, nothing gives me more instant serotonin than you and hawks caring for each other

tsukuyomi @ reveling in the dark @dementiaravenway
Replying to @irlpikachu and @hawksofficial
nothing embarrasses me more than you talking about it

yakitori simp @hawksofficial
Replying to @dementiaravenway and @irlpikachu
no, no, let him speak

tsukuyomi @ reveling in the dark @dementiaravenway
Replying to @hawksofficial and @irlpikachu
no

chargebolt go wheeyy @irlpikachu
Replying to @dementiaravenway and @hawksofficial
yes!

“Okay,” Dabi wheezed, bracing himself on his knees as Twice handed him a bottle of water. “Can we all agree,” he paused to swish a mouthful of water around his mouth before spitting it out, trying to keep any bile from getting in his seams, “that Grand Theft Auto doesn’t count as driving experience, and that we’re not allowing Spinner to drive anymore?”

“Oh, fuck you too,” Spinner responded incredulously.

“Ooh, ooh!” Toga cried excitedly, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Dabi held up a hand, cutting her off as he straightened up. “Mario Kart doesn’t count as driving experience either.”

She let out a disappointed noise.

“Well,” Twice tapped his fingers together nervously, “none of us really ever got a chance to get our driver's license, or even take lessons, and Kurogiri is with Shigaraki and Compress on the other side of town…”

“We can walk or take the train next time, I don’t fucking care if we get caught.” Dabi bent his head to arm his arm briefly to wipe his mouth off on his sleeve. “Now, before I have an aneurysm, which building are we looking for?”

“That one,” Spinner said, pointing across the street at a plain concrete building.

“Not as dilapidated as I was expecting,” Dabi commented.

“Dilapi-wha?”

He twisted his head around to look at Toga, whose face was twisted up in confusion. Right, she hadn’t got further than middle school. To be fair, Dabi didn’t even know his own education level, but he’d been a bit of a bookworm for his investigations before joining the League. “Basically, I'm saying it doesn’t look like shit.”

“Ooohhhhh. Okay!”

Quickly crossing the street, not bothering to walk down to the crosswalk (they were villains, what harm was a little jaywalking going to do?) and stood in front of the building.

“Right,” Spinner said, glancing over the notes he had written down in a dingy notebook. “According to Giran, Abe Chiyo was held in here once, and it’s been abandoned with little to no activity since, so we can probably find some substantial evidence of his whereabouts here.” He tucked the notebook into his pocket. “Let’s go.”

Toga let out a little cheer and took the first stride forward, reaching for the door handle and-

Thnk.

Thnk.

Thnk thnk thnk.

“It’s locked,” Toga said blankly, pausing before aggressively trying to turn the handle faster, as if that would gain her entrance.

“Yeah, I can hear that,” Dabi muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. The investigation was going to be a nightmare, he could already tell.

“Who locks an abandoned building?” Spinner asked incredulously.

“What do we do now?” Twice asked. “Shigaraki can’t dust it, Compress can’t marbleize it, and Kurogiri can’t warp us in? Let’s just go home already!”

“I don’t have any useful blood on me,” Toga announced as she rifled through her pockets, a pout upon her face.

“Let me find their measurements,” Twice murmured, reaching to fish out his notebook.

Dabi, listening to the conversation, took quick stock of their surroundings and came up with a far less convoluted plan. “Save it,” he told Twice. “Gimme a sec, locks are my specialty.”

Spinner raised a skeptical brow. “Since when could you pick-”

CRASH!

“-locks…” he trailed off, staring in shocked silence as Toga giggled hysterically at the window Dabi just threw a brick through.

“See?” Dabi said casually, as if he hadn’t just shattered a window. He strode forward, boots crunching on the glass, leaning away slightly from the window as he gave it a few whacks with his elbow to widen the hole. “My specialty.”

“Okay, that’s some bullshit,” Spinner commented sourly. Dabi shrugged in response before vaulting himself through the window.

“Worked, didn’t it?”

Dabi heard Spinner’s sigh as the other three climbed in behind him, quickly fanning out across the first floor.

“Anything interesting?” he called after a few minutes, kicking a rotting chair aside and watching in amusement as it fell apart.

“Nothing here!” Twice chirped

“I found a file cabinet!” Toga called, underlined by hollow metal noise and the deafening screech of rusted drawer slides.

“Nothin—Toga, be careful with the file cabinet, you’re gonna get tetanus!” Spinner snapped.

Dabi froze, the words tugging at something in the back of his mind.

“I’ll be fine,” Toga whined, and the shaking sound from the file cabinet increased.

Oh. Oh fuck.

“Shit!” Dabi shouted, slapping his forehead in frustration.

“Is that a ‘stubbed my toe’ shit or an ‘I’m about to get murdered’ shit?” Twice asked. “Fucking die, for all I care!”

“It’s an ‘I just remembered something important way too late’ shit!” Dabi bit back.

“Well, unless it’s something important that's about to get us murdered, it can wait! We don’t know how long we have until somebody calls the police about you throwing a brick through a window!” Spinner yelled.

“Fuck off!”

burnt toast
hey hawks uh

i just remembered that i forgot to separate those files you told me to be careful about from the main bullshit pile

discount icarus
i’m aware

burnt toast
wait what

how do you know

discount icarus
because the information in those files got me put in witness protection, dipshit

tell shigaraki i’m not going to be available apart from over text for a while

burnt toast
what the fuck are you in witness protection for???

discount icarus
sometimes i forget that none of you watch the news, and then i’m painfully reminded every single time

burnt toast
what the fuck is that supposed to mean

are you being targeted by the yakuza or something

discount icarus
you know what

close enough

let’s go with that

i’m being targeted by the yakuza

burnt toast
what the fuck hawks

tragic backstory unlocked @hawksofficial
i went to my first two therapy sessions this week and i can already tell it’s just going to basically be biweekly episodes of “i didn’t know that was trauma!”

mayu @ finals crunch @storyenchanted
Replying to @hawksofficial
hawks are you okay

tragic backstory unlocked @hawksofficial
Replying to @storyenchanted
as i’m slowly beginning to find out, no.

Fuyumi
Hey, Hawks…

Hawks
This is about what’s on the news, isn’t it?

Fuyumi
Yeah, I just wanted to ask a question, if you don’t mind.

Hawks
I think I already know where this is going, but go ahead.

Fuyumi
You and Touya didn’t go to school together, did you.

Touya’s “boarding school” was the Commission, wasn’t it?

Hawks
Yeah. It was.

Fuyumi
Would you mind if I asked you about Touya again?

About what actually happened this time.

Hawks?

Hawks
I’ll call you. This won’t be a great conversation to have over text.

“I call dibs on being on Kurogiri’s team for the rest of fucking time,” Dabi called as he burst back into the bar, desperately trying to ignore the rolling of his stomach. “And I also motion that nobody except Compress is ever allowed to drive ever again.”

“We got back here alive, didn’t we?” Spinner muttered sullenly.

“Barely.”

“How did it go?” Kurogiri asked, smoothly interesting himself into the conversation to prevent a fight from breaking out. Dabi raised an eyebrow, easily able to see what the bartender was doing, but shrugged and took a seat at the bar regardless, accepting the glass of whiskey that was set in front of him.

“We managed to figure out where Abe was taken, so we can handle that tomorrow,” Dabi murmured over the rim of the glass, taking a sip before he continued. “There’s a warehouse near the edge of Midori Ward - we’ll either find him, a lead to his current location or, most likely, his grave.” He took another sip of the whiskey, relishing in the burn down his throat. “You?”

Compress hummed. “We managed to get through the Nakamura Yakuza cell, but it turns out Shirai Touru and Ono Ayako have already been dead for a few years, so we’ve crossed that lead off the list.”

“Hot take, but what if we just cut down the amount of yakuza leads we have to deal with?” Dabi said. “They turn up dead like ninety-five percent of the time.”

“Because there’s the other five percent that gives us a chance, and gets us closer to figuring this whole thing out,” Kurogiri responded. Dabi grunted. The bartender shook his head, almost fondly, in response as he pulled up another glass and half-filled it with blood (from some mystery container he kept under the counter, and Dabi was vaguely afraid to ask where it came from) before topping it off with a Capri Sun. He stuck a tiny drink umbrella and silly straw in the glass before handing it to Toga, who beamed and started sipping at it happily. “Twice, would you like anything to drink?”

“Just water. I wanna get wasted!”

“I also talked with Hawks,” Dabi continued. “He’s not going to be available other than over text and occasional calls for a while since he got himself stuck in witness protection.”

“How the fuck does the number two hero get himself in witness protection?” Shigaraki asked incredulously, looking up from his phone.

Dabi shrugged. “He’s being targeted by yakuza or something.”

“Dumbass,” Shigaraki grunted. “Anything else important I need to know now?”

“Dabi taught me a new word!” Toga said brightly.

Almost immediately, Dabi could feel the unimpressed stares of both Kurogiri and Compress on him. He looked between the two of them incredulously. “What? I didn’t teach her anything bad.”

“She’s still only seventeen, so you should all be watching what you say around her,” Kurogiri reprimanded.

“You say this as you serve alcoholic drinks in front of her,” Dabi muttered sullenly into his glass.

“It wasn’t a bad word!” Toga whined. “It was a big, fancy word! I even know how to use it in a sentence!”

“Oh?” Compress intoned interestedly.

“Mm-hm!” She grinned. “Here: Tomura looks dilapidated!”

Dabi snorted whiskey out through his nose.

HAWKS ANNOUNCED NEW NO.1 HERO
By Matsumoto Chie

Amongst all the chaos and scandal of the past several months, it was almost surprising to realize that the first Billboard Chart of the year was released this week. In a shocking, yet still somewhat unsurprising turn of events, Hawks has gone up a rank to become the new No.1 hero, while Endeavor falls back down to No.2. Hawks has broken the record for youngest No.1 hero, achieving the rank at age 23, beating out the previous record-holder, All Might, who achieved the rank at age 24.

Not only does Hawks comfortably claim the lead in almost every popularity poll, but his case rate this season has been through the roof, so despite having to take the past three weeks off, as he is in witness protection, he still managed to snag the No.1 spot.

Hawks was unable to join any journalist or television host for a traditional post-billboard interview, but he did have this to say on Twitter:

“I want to thank everybody who has supported me this past season, and also declare how proud I am of my fellow heroes for how much we’ve stepped up as an institution these past few months [...] Faith in heroes has wavered, and everybody has been doing their best to show that we are still reliable. I’ve never seen a season before where I’ve seen so many heroes out there, not caring about fame or popularity, just trying to save as many people as they can. I know that sounds a bit hypocritical coming from me, of all people, but it’s true. Rescuing people and knowing that I’m able to make them feel safe is what makes this job worth it to me [...]” (Read the full thread here)

Other notable changes in the rankings since the last billboard include Miruko just barely getting ahead of Edgeshot for the No.4 spot, and Ryuukyuu reclaiming No.9. Gang Orca has… Read more

“Oh, hey Tsunagu,” Keigo greeted as he opened the door, stepping aside to allow the hero in. “Lemme guess, you’re my babysitter of the day?”

Tsunagu turned, and while Keigo wasn’t able to see half his face, he still very clearly got the disappointed stare. “Security detail, Hawks.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he responded flippantly, closing the door behind him. “Just figured if I’m gonna die, might as well have fun while it lasts, y’know?”

“Hawks-”

“You can call me Keigo if you want,” he interrupted, already making his way into the kitchen, continuing to cube the chicken breast he’d pulled out of the fridge for stir fry.

Tsunagu paused. “Are you sure?”

Keigo shrugged. “You’re like, one of three—maybe ten, depending on what constitutes a ‘friend’—friends that I have, and I’m including my intern in that count. Go nuts. Just not on social media or on the streets.”

“Alright. But, Keigo, you can’t be so flippant about your safety,” he said in that ‘I’m concerned about you and will proceed to shove my care at you until you accept it’ tone of his. Keigo sighed, glancing up at the hero as he took a seat on the other side of the counter, watching him work. He set down the knife and wiped his hands off on a towel, leaning forward to set his elbows on the counter.

“I am taking this seriously,” Keigo started, letting his face fall flat. “I’m just—used to it, I suppose. I grew up in the Commission, I always knew that this was a possibility. They don’t like loose ends; they want the hero system to appear as secure and strong as possible, and if taking out a few people can prevent anarchy? Well, they’ll do it.” He sighed, blowing a stray bang out of his face. “I’ve been distancing myself from the Commission recently—before all of this ever happened. I knew that there was a risk that they’d see me getting too rebellious and decide to cut their losses with me, try and prevent something like what’s happening right now.” Keigo stood back up and shrugged, picking up the knife to continue his work. “I’ve always known that this might happen. Albeit, I thought I’d make it a few more years before it did. The only difference now is that other people know about it.”

A silence fell between them, stretching on for a few moments too long. Keigo glanced up, taking stock of Tsunagu’s stricken look before he finally seemed to find the words for a response.

“It’s just concerning to see you joke about your life,” he said. “A lot of us care about you, and we’re not used to it, so it’s harder for us to find anywhere near as much amusement in the situation as you do.”

Kaigo gave him a blithe smile. “Well, I never claimed to have healthy coping mechanisms.”

Tsunagu gave an amused huff of air. “I never implied you did.”

“Shove off, I only just started therapy. Gimme a few months, I’m gonna rock your world, blow you away with how healthy my coping mechanisms are.”

Tsunagu laughed, and Keigo grinned, counting it as a win.

“But seriously, Tsunagu, Jest Beanist, father figure I never had, light of my life-”

“Where are you going with this?”

“-if I do die, I want you to promise one thing for me.”

He could practically see the other biting his tongue to keep himself from saying something about being negative, but after a moment, he nodded.

“Be the flower boy at Rumi’s wedding, it’d be fucking hilarious.”

“Keigo.” And there was the exasperated tone he was so used to hearing out of the fiber hero.

He cackled. “Come on, it’s funny! You promised me, I’ll even put it in my will to make sure it happens. I want to see it recorded and a video of it left for me to enjoy for the rest of my afterlife.”

Tsunagu sighed, rolling his eyes fondly. “You’re not going to die. I’ll make sure of it if only so I don’t have to do that.”

Keigo laughed. “Guess I’ll have to tell Rumi we’re going with plan B.”

“Plan B?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna ask All Might to be the flower boy. Guy’s a real sweetheart, he wouldn’t say no.”

“Please don’t torment him like that,” Tsunagu groaned, rubbing his forehead tiredly.

“Who’s tormenting him? We’re just asking if he’d like to have a role at her wedding.”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

Keigo’s laughter was cut off by the jingle from his phone. Pausing to set the knife down again, he wiped his hands off before picking up the device, glancing at the screen to check who was calling.

Incoming call…
back alley magic man

Compress.

“Sorry, I need to take this,” he said apologetically. “Private call—I’ll be in my bedroom.” At the conflicted look on the other hero’s face, Keigo rolled his eyes and floated a feather over to him, tucking it behind the man’s ear. “I’ll let you know if I’m about to get murked, okay?” he called over his shoulder as he padded away.

“Keigo.”

Atsuhiro startled as the door to the bar burst open, Twice, Toga, and Spinner flooding in with clear panic, and Dabi’s limp, wet body held between them. He was already out of his seat and guiding them to set the unconscious man down on the couch before he could even think about it.

“What happened?” Kurogiri asked, joining the group by Atsuhiro’s side. Shigaraki wasn’t joining the rest of them in crowding around the couch, but he noted the younger man carefully watching the commotion out of the corner of his eye.

Spinner helped Atsuhiro wrestle Dabi out of his muddy jacket as he talked. “There was a gang camping outside the warehouse, we got into a fight, and one of them managed to whack Dabi in the head. Knocked him unconscious and he fell into the lake. Twice fished him out, and he was still breathing so we didn’t have to do any CPR. He hasn’t woken up, though, and there’s all sorts of gunk on him.”

Atsuhiro could see where the worry was coming from—Dabi already had unknown amounts of possible head trauma, and he could easily spy what must have been mud from the lake bed in the seams of his scars and healthy skin.

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath. “We need to strip him, see where the infection risk is at. Twice, go get some clean clothes from his room. Toga, medical supplies.”

“On it!” the two chimed in unison, dashing off to do their assigned tasks.

Kurogiri wordlessly warped towels into his hands, crouching down beside Dabi and gently scrubbing him dry as Spinner and Atsuhiro peeled his wet clothes off. Luckily, it appeared that the scars on Dabi’s legs had been spared by his habit of wearing leather pants no matter the weather. When Toga and Twice reappeared, Atsuhiro simply poured hydrogen peroxide over those seams while Kurogiri kept Toga turned around until they slipped clean boxers and sweatpants onto him.

They left the shirt off, but while his lower half had been spared, Dabi’s thin cotton shirt had been every bit as useless against the mud as his pants had been effective.

“How the fuck do we keep him from getting infected?” Spinner asked, biting at his nails.

“Is the more immediate concern the hit to the head he hasn’t woken up from or the very real infection risk?” Twice asked, wringing his hands together, Toga vibrating with nervous energy at his side. “Let him rot, for all I care!”

“Call Hawks,” Shigaraki’s raspy voice floated over from where he sat in a cushioned chair, DS held up to his face. “Heroes get EMT training or something, probably has a better idea what to do than the rest of you dipshits.”

“Right, let’s do that,” Spinner agreed breathlessly, turning back to the prone man on the couch.

Atsuhiro fished his phone out of his pocket, handing it to Toga. “Call Hawks, put him on speakerphone.”

Toga nodded, and they all waited in tense silence as the phone rang once, twice, three times… just as it was about to ring out-

“Hello?”

“Oh, thank god,” Spinner muttered.

“We have a situation,” Atsuhiro started.

“Not sure if you’ve heard, but I literally cannot leave my apartment without a police escort.” He could practically hear Hawks rolling his eyes.

“You have EMT certification, right?”

There was a beat of silence.

“Who’s hurt?” he asked, voice serious.

“It’s Dabi.” Atsuhiro looked to Spinner, who took his cue to explain what happened.

“He got hit in the head, knocked unconscious, and there’s a ton of mud in his seams.”

“Oh, just go for the two worst problems you could cause, why don’t you?” they could hear Hawks mutter before he spoke louder. “Alright, Spinner, I need you to stabilize Dabi’s head—keep it perfectly in line with his spine, don’t let it move any more than I assume it already has. Compress, I need you to tell me who’s there, and what medical supplies you have. Need to know what I’m working with.”

“The entire League is here. For medical supplies, we don’t have much more than a basic first aid kit.”

“Alright, Kurogiri and Toga - I need you to go rob a hospital and a pharmacy. I’m texting you a list of what you need to pick up now.” Almost directly on cue, Kurogiri’s phone buzzed, who glanced at it before nodding and quickly ushering Toga off to leave.

“Twice, if there’s any latex gloves or medical masks in the base, go get them and bring them to Compress.” Twice chirped an affirmative before running off. “Compress, I’m putting you in charge of direct treatment—I’m assuming you have fairly steady hands, for all those magic tricks you do?”

“Of course,” Atsuhiro responded, allowing himself a flicker of pride for the recognition of his skills before refocusing on the situation at hand.

“Great. Spinner, I need you to tell me if there’s any discoloration around Dabi’s eyes, any fluid leaking from his nose?”

Spinner paused for a second, looking down directly at Dabi’s face before responding. “There’s no discoloration apart from his scars, and nothing's leaking out of his nose.”

“Alright, that’s good news,” Hawks said, a note of relief in his voice that Atsuhiro himself felt. “It’s likely that he doesn’t have any major brain injury, but if he starts to throw up or gag, you’ll need to turn his head and body on its side as one, keeping it in line with his spine. I still need you to check for a concussion, I’m texting you instructions on how to do that now.”

“Right,” Spinner responded, dutifully taking out his phone and beginning to follow whatever guide Hawks had sent him.

“Is he gonna die?” Shigaraki called in the slight lull.

Hawks paused before answering. “If we do this right, it’s very unlikely, and he could make a full recovery in a few weeks.”

“He better not,” Shigaraki muttered under his breath, sinking deeper into the armchair. “Hate to have wasted this much time on a party member only for him to die.”

Hawks huffed out a short laugh. “Compress, I’m going to give you a rundown of what I’ll need you to do, and I’ll stay on the line to walk you through it as soon as soon as Kurogiri and Toga get back.”

“I’ll do my best,” Atsuhiro promised solemnly, stilling himself to listen carefully as Hawks began to talk.

“This might get pretty bloody, but here’s how it’s gonna go down: anywhere there’s mud or dirt, you’re going to need to pull out his staples. Throw them into the trash when you do that, there’s no reusing them.”

“Alright,” he said, nodding along even though he and Hawks couldn't see each other. He inclined his head in thanks as Twice reappeared, handing over the gloves and masks Hawks had told him to fetch.

“Actually, before you do any of that—there’s enough infection risk as there is, so you’re going to go into the kitchen and wash your hands while I keep talking, then you’re going to put on two layers of gloves and a mask. Make sure your hair is securely out of the way before you do that.”

Atsuhiro stood up to do as requested, pinning his dark hair out of the way with some barrettes Toga had left lying around. Twice picked up his phone, trailing dutifully behind him so that Hawks could continue giving his instructions.

“You’re gonna have to gently pull the seams open, and be careful about it, I don’t know how strong they are without the staples, which is where this could get messy, and you’re gonna wash the dirt and mud away with whatever bottled water you have lying around.” Atsuhiro nodded absently, rinsing the soap off his hands and drying them before beginning to pull on the gloves and mask. “Then, you’re gonna take some sterile wipes and go over it, making absolutely sure that you’ve got them completely clean. Then, go over the entire seam and surrounding area with disinfectant. Toga and Kurogiri should also be coming back with some medical staplers, and you’re going to use those to staple his skin back together.”

“Are you sure this will work?” Atushiro asked as he headed back to where Dabi and Spinner were. “I don’t mean to criticize your knowledge, I’m just worried.”

“Yeah,” Hawks sighed, “don’t worry, I get it. I didn’t exactly go to med school, so this definitely isn’t perfect advice. I’m just doing the best I can with what I know. But in case there is still a chance of infection, that’s why I’m having Kurogiri and Toga stop at a pharmacy; we’re gonna be sticking Dabi on as much amoxicillin as we can safely give him for a few weeks.”

“Hey, Hawks?” Spinner interrupted. “He doesn’t seem to be showing any signs of a concussion or anything.”

There was a moment of silence.

“The only response he’s had to getting hit in the head is being knocked out? No head wound, no spinal fluid, no concussion, no nothing?”

Spinner shrugged. “As far as I can tell, yeah. Pretty much.”

“I really wonder how the fuck he has amnesia when his skull is apparently made out of fucking steel.”

attack cucco @hawksofficial
my therapist: *laughs at a joke i made*
me, to myself: this is great. i’m going to get a good grade in therapy, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve-

petra rabbit @mirukoofficial
Replying to @hawksofficial
scale of 1-10, 1 being i can make fun of you for it, 10 being i need to tag jeanist into the conversation, how concerned should i be about this tweet

attack cucco @hawksofficial
Replying to @mirukoofficial
don’t worry, i know my therapist sees my twitter so i’m definitely gonna hear about this. think of these tweets as an unsubtle cry for help to prep her for our next session.

petra rabbit @mirukoofficial
Replying to @hawksofficial
still concerning, but also clever and kinda funny

🌸moriko🌸 @pepperbrandy
Replying to @hawksofficial
honestly, seeing the no1 hero talk so openly about mental health and therapy, and working to normalize talking about it makes me so happy

“Guess who’s still fucking alive?”’ Dabi announced as he came through Kurogiri’s portal, with a fresh bill of health from whatever sketchy underground clinic they'd just come from. He hadn't bothered to check.

“Goddammit,” he heard Shigaraki mutter under his breath.

“That’s right, it’s your favorite burnt bacon bitch, back at it again.”

“Dabi!” Toga cheered in excitement, her head popping up over the couch. “You’re back!”

“You’re alive!” Twice joined in, popping up next to her. “I wish you died!”

“Health risk extraordinaire is here to stay,” Dabi called out monotonously, the portal closing behind him. “What the fuck are we doing now?”

“Well, we were figuring out our next plan of attack,” Shigaraki snapped. “Sit down, we’re doing some troubleshooting; there’s gotta be a glitch in the system or something.”

“Oh?” Dabi asked, throwing himself into a plush armchair with a raised brow, swinging his legs over the arm. “How so?”

“The heroes Hawks is working with are almost done with their investigation, and we’re almost done with ours, and we still haven’t found a single clue about your identity. That’s the chances of that?”

“Pretty low,” Spinner offered. Shigaraki snapped his fingers and pointed at him, continuing to talk.

“Exactly. So, we need to figure out what the fuck’s going on.”

“And what do you suggest we do, genius? Not much we can do except put up ‘please call if you know this person’ posters for me like I’m a runaway dog or something.”

“That’s a shit plan, of course we’re not doing that,” Shigaraki said, waving his hand at Dabi dismissively. “We’re going to be bringing forward what I proposed back in January.”

Dabi stared at Shigaraki for a moment, raking through his mind to try and figure out what he was referencing. Surprisingly, the memory came to the forefront of his mind easily, and his eyes widened as he realized what was being suggested. “Shigaraki, no-”

“Unless you have a better idea?” Shigaraki asked him scathingly.

Dabi opened and closed his mouth before crossing his arms sullenly.

“Great. We’re in agreement then.”

“I just want it to be known,” Dabi said angrily, “that this plan is going to absolutely ruin my chances of getting laid, so if it doesn’t work, I’m gonna murder you.”

“Nobody cares about you getting your dick wet with Hawks. Now shut up and focus, we need to start planning.”

phoenix wright @hawksofficial
concept: i punch my old handler when i see him in court today

phoenix wright @hawksofficial
Replying to @hawksofficial
follow-up: i also punch my egg donor when i see her in court next week

tried to put me on the cover of vogue @mirukoofficial
Replying to @hawksofficial
do it

Best Jeanist @bestjeanistofficial
Replying to @hawksofficial
As a hero, I cannot professionally condone violence. However, I will refrain from condemning it in this particular case.

tried to put me on the cover of vogue @mirukoofficial
Replying to @bestjeanistofficial and @hawksofficial
you heard jean-boy, hawks, beat their asses

“There are a few things we need to go over before I can let you go for the weekend,” Shouta announced blandly, relishing in the crushed looks some of his students gave him, eyes flicking back and forth between him and the clock. “First of all: the final decision has been reached on how the new age limits in the Hero Training Restriction Act are going to impact you.”

He watched their shoulders rise and tense in almost complete unison.

“Thanks to Article Thirty-Nine of the Constitution, the retroactive application of laws is forbidden, so you will all, indeed, be the last hero class to graduate U.A. High School.”

There was a moment of silence, in which Shouta could have heard a pin drop. He watched the gears turn in his students’ brains, the pieces clicking together and their eyes brightening. The class started to let out a deafening cheer, some of them standing up and jumping around with euphoria. Shouta was feeling generous, so he allowed them to enjoy themselves for a few seconds before activating his quirk.

They were all silent and back in their seats within a few moments, though many still had wide, beaming smiles on their faces. Excitement. Disgusting.

“All of you turned in forms to leave campus tomorrow. They’ve all been approved, however, if you’re planning to go to either the TPD or HPSC protests, which I suspect most of you are,” a solid half of his class averted their eyes guiltily, while the rest gave their best shot at a poker face, none succeeding apart from Todoroki, “try to not get arrested. Stay out of trouble, and you can all protest to your heart's content. Dismissed.”

Shouta sighed as the students flooded out of the classroom, already loudly chattering on their way back to the dorms. He mentally prepared himself for the next day. Despite the warning he gave, he knew that he was going to have to go pick up at least one of them from the police department. He knew.

“I got the blocky markers, Momo’s got the poster board!” Jirou called as she and Yaoyorozu came into the common room, arms full of the aforementioned supplies. Izuku perked up, along with much of the rest of 1-A. “Who’s ready to unlock their inner punk and get ready to protest the government?”

Izuku laughed as they spread out the supplies along the floor, having moved the couches aside to work on the floor in front of the TV. Tokoyami had claimed the spot closest to the screen, and they let him without much fuss; Hawks’ case against the HPSC was set to continue in a few minutes.

“Hey, Todoroki-kun,” Izuku greeted, sitting down next to his friend, who tilted his head slightly in greeting. “Excited?”

“I suppose,” he responded blandly, tapping the capped end of his marker against the poster in front of him. Izuku took a moment to observe Todoroki’s tense posture and pinched brow. It was always hard to try and get a read on how the split-haired teen was doing. He didn’t express much with his face and was fairly quiet, and his words were mostly neutral when he did speak, but…

“Are you okay, Todoroki-kun?” Izuku asked in a lower voice, using the chatter of the other students around them to mask his question. “You’ve been a little—off, I guess, the past two months.” Todoroki blinked lethargically and stared at him for a long, long moment. Izuku felt his cheeks turn red as he flustered. “Not that you have to tell me or anything, I don’t want to intrude on your business, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay and-”

“No, it’s fine,” Todoroki said, turning his gaze back to the poster board. “Hawks was at Touya’s funeral.” Any other person would have warmed up before getting to that, Izuku thought. Todoroki, on the other hand, was blunt, almost to a fault. “We always thought he was a school friend of his or something.”

Izuku paused, processing the statement before his eyes widened. “Oh.”

Todoroki hummed flatly in response. “Fuyumi has his contact information, apparently. He’s her fiancé’s friend, so-”

“Oh, she’s getting married?” Izuku asked. “Give her my congratulations!” Todoroki nodded. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, uh—you were saying?”

“She’s been quiet since the news came out, so I think she’s talked to him about it. She hasn’t shared what she knows with me or Natuso, however.”

Izuku was quiet for a moment, mulling over the information in his mind. “I think Hawks is supposed to be giving testimony on others in the program today before the final verdict is made.”

“I know.”

They lapsed into silence, apart from a brief exchange when Todoroki asked for a suggestion as to what he should put on his poster.

Soon enough, Tokoyami was turning up the volume on the TV as coverage of the HPSC trial continued. The chatter in the room died, and they all watched with rapt attention, the only other sound in the room the occasional squeak of a marker.

Hawks’ face was flat as he answered question after question. As the primary witness, the only documented survivor of the Legacy Program who still retained all memories, he’d probably spent more time on the stand than all the other parties involved in the case combined.

“We have one participant of the program left—it was the most redacted file and gave us little information other than their hero name. Are you able to share information with the court about ‘Supernova?’”

Hawks’ face lost even more emotion at the question, if it were possible. “Yes.”

“Do you know Supernova’s legal name?”

“Todoroki Touya.”

The shocked silence of the courtroom was matched only by the shocked silence of the common room. Every head slowly turned to stare at Todoroki, whose marker was creaking under his grip. A fierce glare from under his bangs had them all turning back towards the television, although Izuku was easily able to spot them taking glances back at him. He slowly laid a hand on Todoroki’s shoulder, who simply hunched in on himself, but his eyes remained glued to the screen as the questions continued.

“And how did you meet Todoroki-san?”

“He was assigned to be my roommate after Saskia killed himself.”

“What was your relationship with Todoroki-san?”

Izuku felt Todoroki tense under his fingers, shoulders drawing close to his ears.

Hawks’ face hardened, and his words came out in a clipped voice, contrasting the flat monotone he’d answered the rest of the questions in. “We were involved.”

There was another ringing silence.

“How long did you know Todoroki-san?”

“Almost three years, from when we were introduced to when he died.”

“Is the court able to presume that his training and the treatment he was given was similar to that of the other Legacy Program trainees?”

“Yes.”

“How did Todoroki-san die?”

Izuku wrapped Todoroki in a hug, letting the other boy tuck his head into his shoulder as Hawks answered, again in a terse tone. “Touya was an odd case in the program—he was often sent home on the weekends. He didn’t come back one week, and I was informed a few days later that he had self-immolated at home.”

Todoroki’s shoulders shook slightly, and Izuku elected to not comment on the slight dampness of the collar of his shirt.

“How did the Commission react upon hearing news of his death?”

Hawks let out a tired sigh, sagging deep into his chair, something pained shining in his eyes. “They let me go to his funeral. After that, I was given a psych evaluation to ensure I could continue training at the 'desired pace,' and then they generally just pretended he never existed, like most of the other trainees. I wasn’t assigned a roommate after him, though. They didn’t want me growing ‘attached’ again.”

“Thank you. I have no more questions for the witness.”

There was quiet in both the court and the dorm as a break was called after the almost two-hour testimony.

Todoroki’s chest shook slightly as he took several deep breaths before lifting his from Izuku’s shoulder, his right eye noticeably red, while his left was disguised by the surrounding scar tissue. “Todoroki-kun?” Izuku asked slowly. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said blankly after taking a few moments to smooth his face over again, though his voice grated ever-so-slightly. He turned his head to look at the rest of the quiet common room, all their classmates (except Kacchan, but he was reading something on his phone, anyway) having turned their heads to pretend they weren’t eavesdropping. “If we leave early tomorrow,” Todoroki began in a louder voice, catching the attention of everyone, “we’ll have time to get breakfast at Girandole on Endeavor’s credit card.”

“Isn’t that place hella expensive?” Sero asked.

“Yes. If anybody needs to buy anything at all tomorrow, I’ll pay for it, no questions asked.”

“Dude,” Kaminari said. “How much spite is fueling your decisions right now?”

“As I am currently unable to put my father six feet underground, a lot. Any more questions?”

After a few moments, Kaminari spoke again.

“Who’s ready to go do some fucking anarchy tomorrow?”

“Aw, hell yeah!” Sero and Mina cheered, sharing a group high-five with the blonde. Izuku laughed at the display as chatter picked back up in the room.

He watched Todoroki out of the corner of his eye. He seemed a little lighter. Izuku wasn’t sure what he was doing was the healthiest way to deal with what he had just learned, but he seemed happier, at least. Izuku allowed himself a small smile.

“This is such a fucking bad idea,” Dabi repeated for the nth time.

“Shut the fuck up, you’re starting to sound like Spinner,” Shigaraki snapped, both ignoring the offended exclamation from the mutant in question. “Kurogiri, Compress, you two know what to do?”

An exasperated air imitated from the two adults. “Of course, Shigaraki,” Compress sighed.

“I understand, Tomura,” and wow, Kurogiri was disappointed. Not that shame was something to stop Shigaraki from doing what he wanted, but it comforted Dabi some to know that the bartender wasn’t happy with the plan either.

uncaged birb @hawksofficial
the best part of winning the case against the hpsc, apart from finally getting released from witness protection this week, is having absolutely nobody to stop me from donating an obscene amount of money to the hpsc protest bail fund #hpscprotest

uncaged birb @hawksofficial
Replying to @hawksofficial
speaking of, if you’re feeling as anarchical as i am and have money to spare, feel free to donate to the bail fund yourself (bit.ly/5cdb27e). if you can’t donate, no worries! there’s a petition you can sign to get the hpsc shut down (bit.ly/dec08c).

discount kangaroo @mirukoofficial
Replying to @hawksofficial
can’t decide if i’m surprised or not that you’ve become even more chaotic now

uncaged birb @hawksofficial
Replying to @mirukoofficial
i’m tired of being nice. it’s time to go apeshit.

after i get out of witness protection.

discount kangaroo @mirukoofficial
Replying to @hawksofficial
lmao. i’ll protest enough for both of us til you get out chicken boy

tsukuyomi @ drowning the hpsc in the void @dementiaravenway
Replying to @hawksofficial
my entire class is going to the protest today, and knowing some of them, thank you for paying their bail

chargebolt go yeet the hpsc @irlpikachu
Replying to @dementiaravenway and @hawksofficial
what’s that supposed to mean???

👾alien queen👾 @terrestialxenomorph
Replying to @irlpikachu, @dementiaravenway and @hawksofficial
you wanna go, tokoyami???

tsukuyomi @ drowning the hpsc in the void @dementiaravenway
Replying to @terrestialxenomorph, @irlpikachu and @hawksofficial
i’m simply stating facts, not looking for a fight. if i were, you’re both sitting across from me, and i just watched kaminari try to shock bakugou with static electricity, forgetting that he sweats nitroglycerin, and i beat ashido at the sports festival. i’m not that worried.

🎶earphone jack🎶 @ anarchy @heartbeatoctaves
Replying to @dementiaravenway and 3 more
unsurprised tokoyami is the first one to commit murder.

tsukuyomi @ drowning the hpsc in the void @dementiaravenway
Replying to @heartbeatoctaves and 3 more
facts, my weapon of choice. their silence speaks volumes.

uncaged birb @hawksofficial
Replying to @dementiaravenway and 3 more
*wipes away a tear* my intern is so talented

U.A. STUDENT REPORTED MISSING AFTER HPSC PROTEST
By Kamiya Moriko

U.A. hero course student Midoriya Izuku has been reported missing by his classmates after today's protests against the HPSC. Due to the events at and attacks on U.A. this past year, authorities and school officials are treating the incident as a kidnapping. The school’s Class 1-A had gone on a group outing to the protest, but by early afternoon, their day had been effectively derailed. The first to notice Midoriya’s absence… Read more

“...he wants to know what the fuck you think you’re doing,” said a low, raspy voice as Izuku slowly came back to consciousness. He slowly blinked his eyes open as another, familiar voice responded.

“Tell him it’s none of his fucking business, I’m in charge, I make the decisions.” Izuku’s head snapped up as the first voice repeated the message. Shigaraki. His eyes scanned the area quickly—he was in a nondescript warehouse, fantastic—and quickly landed on Shigaraki and Dabi, that was the other voice. The rest of the League didn’t seem to be around.

He reached for the pool of power that came with One for All and—he was wearing quirk suppressors, he couldn’t feel it! There went Escape Plan A.

Dabi had his phone up to his ear and was listening to someone Izuku couldn’t hear with a tired expression. “He says you better let the kid go or he’s coming down to scalp you.”

“Well, tell him-”

“I’m not your fucking messenger boy! You two wanna argue, do it on your own time!” he snapped, decisively hanging up on the call and glaring at Shigaraki as he did so.

Izuku watched the proceedings with wide eyes.

Dabi quickly noticed him, and by extension, the fact that he was awake. He kicked Shigaraki in the shin and jerked his head in Izuku’s direction.

A moment of silence stretched between them before Izuku spoke.

“Are you gonna kill me?” he asked hesitantly, anxious mind already jumping to the worst-case scenario.

“What?” Shigaraki asked, looking confused. “No. You’re a valuable NPC. Here’s the deal,” Izuku tensed as the villain stalked forward, leaning down towards his face—if Shigaraki was trying to be intimidating, it was working and Izuku really wished he’d stop. “If you can figure out who the fuck Dabi is, we’ll let you go.” And he stepped away, crossing his arms impatiently as the aforementioned villain appeared over Shigaraki’s shoulder, a dark shadow behind him.

Izuku blinked, trying to follow the logic of Shigaraki’s statement. “I…” he paused, running the words through his mind again. “Is… is this like, some weird new torture method you’re trying?”

“What the fuck is with you and the stupid questions?” Shigaraki snarled. “We’re one-hundred percent serious about this, motherfucker can’t remember who he is, and by God, we’re gonna figure it out.”

Izuku attempted to process the situation. “Are you saying that all those missing person cases you’ve solved-”

“Oh, shit, were those on the news?” Dabi asked. “Nice. Still maintaining a bit of notoriety even while on a break from villainy.”

Izuku gave the burned man an incredulous look, trying to figure out if he was messing with him or not. There wasn’t any ‘gotcha’ coming, though, and Izuku briefly wondered if it was possible to have an aneurysm as a teenager. He let out a defeated sigh. “How do you expect me to do this?”

Analysis, he could do that. Stave off the mind-melting puzzle that was whatever was going on with the League, and buy time for help to come.

Shigaraki snapped, and Dabi ‘tch’d and rolled his eyes, walking off to the side to bring out a rolling whiteboard, muttering what Izuku presumed to be insults under his breath. Izuku quickly scanned over the list of theories, organizing them in his head from most to least likely.

“I can already tell you the time-travel one probably isn’t true.”

“Oh, come the fuck on.”

“I told you so. More than once.”

Izuku ignored the exchange and kept running over the theories in his head. Black magic and demon were thrown aside, Zodiac killer looked interesting, clone experiment gone wrong had potential, escaped-

BOOM

Katsuki was pissed.

He knew, on a certain level, that most people would assume that was nothing out of the ordinary. However, his general baseline level was ‘agitated’. Right then and there, he was pissed.

Best Jeanist had gone and let himself catch the flu at the very end of flu season, so Katsuki’d been stuffed with Deku, the Half n’ Half Bastard, and the flaming garbage bag for the past week for his work-study while Jeanist recovered. And then, when the class had gone to blow up the bullshit government, the shitty nerd had gone and gotten himself kidnapped, like the dumbass he was.

Aizawa, after the shitshow that was the first semester, had them all install trackers on their phones when they moved into the dorms - the GPS wasn’t the most accurate, but by the time they’d all headed to their work-studies on Monday, they’d narrowed down Deku’s location, and they were all moving out to comb the area. Katsuki would have thought that kidnappers would have a little more taste than a field of run-down, shitty warehouses, but apparently not. Reminded him to not hold too much faith in anybody else’s intelligence.

And that, in general, was how Katsuki found himself scowling, walking next to Icy Hot, trailing behind Endeavor as they scoured their section of the search area.

“Building’s fucking empty!” he shouted over his shoulder, kicking the door to yet another warehouse shut. He vaguely heard Endeavor grunt in acknowledgment, but he was already walking to the next building over. Suddenly-

“I think I’ve found something,” Half n’ Half Bastard’s bland voice floated over. Katsuki turned his head over his shoulder, catching sight of the other teen turning back to a closed warehouse to press his ear against the door.

He and Endeavor quickly made their way over as Icy Hot took a few steps away from the building, turning to face them. Before the hot garbage could even open his mouth, Icy Hot started speaking. “I can hear voices inside, but I don’t know what they’re saying. One of them sounded like Midoriya, though.”

“Hmm,” Endeavor intoned, eyes scanning the warehouse. Katsuki crossed his arms impatiently, shifting his weight to his other foot as his scowl deepened. “DynaMight,” he suddenly spoke, and Katsuki sharply turned his gaze to the large man.

“Yeah?”

“You’ll blow the door in so we can catch them by surprise.” Katsuki felt a smirk cross his face. “Both of you, be prepared for combat. Depending on what we find inside, I’ll give you further instructions.”

As much as Katsuki hated to agree with Half n’ Half on anything, he could feel the other rolling his eyes in time with him.

Stepping up to the warehouse door as the two dickheads he was stuck with stepped back, Katsuki cracked his knuckles and shook out his hands. Widening his stance and bracing his shoulders for the inevitable recoil. He stretched his palms out in front of him, felt his hands begin to heat, and-

BOOM

The door buckled and caved in with the bright flash of an explosion, and Katsuki raced in, hearing two sets of footsteps following behind him. The dust cleared quickly and revealed the scene in the warehouse.

“Shouto, rescue the hostage,” Endeavor snapped. “DynaMight, keep Shigaraki distracted, I’ll deal with Dabi.”

The two teens nodded in unison, and Katsuki felt a feral grin grow across his face as he raced in. Fight fire with fire, and the flakey-fuck couldn’t disintegrate what he couldn’t touch. Not a bad plan for a fucking asshole.

“Motherfucker!” Shigaraki screeched, glaring at Katsuki as he approached, before quickly dodging an explosion by ducking behind a whiteboard, covered in writing he didn’t bother reading before blasting it away.

Katsuki ignored the damn nerd’s relieved cry of “Kacchan!” from behind him, quickly followed by a surprised noise and Icy Hot’s voice saying “Let’s go, Midoriya.” Fucking idiot, always causing problems for the rest of them.

Shigaraki and Katuski rolled to the left in unison, barely avoiding getting singed by a burst of blue and orange flames. Shigaraki’s head whipped around, narrowing in something over Katsuki’s shoulder.

“You can’t take him!” the manchild shrieked, throwing his hands in the air before dodging another explosion from Katsuki. Motherfucker was fast. “We need him to figure out who Dabi is!”

Katsuki’s movements faltered for the briefest of seconds before explosions continued to roar from his palms. “First of all, motherfucker,” he hissed out, getting oh-so deliciously close to landing an explosion in the asshole’s face before he dodged, “you don’t tell me what to do. Second of all, how fucking stupid are you? Dabi’s Todoroki Touya, that’s been fucking obvious for ages now, dipshit!”

“That’s fucking bullshit!” Hand Kink screeched back, arm shooting out and just barely missing Katsuki’s face as he ducked. “You’re a glitched NP-”

The villain was cut off as Dabi flew backward into him, both of them stumbling over. Katsuki felt his current mood of ‘pissed’ start ticking up towards a strong ‘murderous.’

“YOU!” he shouted, letting off another explosion. He knew his target was Shigaraki, but if he managed to get Discount Frankenstein’s Monster in the crossfire as well? Even fucking better.

“Who the fuck is the pomeranian?” Dabi called to Shigaraki.

Katsuki felt his movements falter again. “You fucking kidnapped me, asshole!”

Endeavor appeared beside him, flames coating his hands as the four of them stood in a standoff.

Dabi’s eyes suddenly lit up. “Oh, no shit? You’re the U.A. kid I kidnapped!” he said, tone sounding as if he’d just had a giant revelation. Katsuki felt his mind bluescreen. “I was wondering about that. Toga said I’d kidnapped somebody, I was starting to think she was shitting me.”

“Dabi,” he heard Shigaraki hiss, registering the voice in a distant, absent sort of way. “Kurogiri’s sending a portal—we need to go.”

“Fucking told you this entire plan was a waste of time.”

Katsuki’s brain finally managed to reboot, and he saw red.

He screeched incoherently as he launched himself at the two, barely missing blowing the Burnt Fuck Face’s head off as the other villain grabbed his collar and yanked him out of the way and towards a misty purple portal just a few feet away. Katsuki quickly redirected, and blasted another powerful explosion off, just barely missing the two as they disappeared into the mist, and the portal disappeared.

Katsuki screeched again, his hands popping with hundreds of tiny explosions. Suddenly, a hand landed on his shoulder, and he turned around, ready to blow Icy Hot’s face off. “What the fuck is it?” he hissed.

Half n’ Half’s face remained blank, which only served to piss Katsuki off more.

“We succeeded. Flawless rescue mission.” From anybody else, Katsuki might have interpreted the statement as praise, but the other teen’s stupid ass voice only made it sound sarcastic. He growled, low in his throat. “Endeavor’s radioing it in. Police will be here soon, and they’ll need to take your statement.”

Katsuki scowled, shrugging the cold hand off of his shoulder.

“Midoriya’s fine, Bakugou.”

“Fucking Deku,” he hissed, storming out of the warehouse, eyes zeroing in on the fucking asshole that caused the whole situation. Katsuki also became aware of the paramedics, police officers, and other heroes who looked at him as he exited the warehouse.

Fuck. Professional, he could do professional.

He stiffly walked over to where the shit nerd sat next to an ambulance, a bright orange shock blanket draped over his shoulders. The nerd looked up at him with his too fucking bright eyes. “Kacchan?” he asked hesitantly.

Calm calm calm.

Katsuki gripped Deku’s shoulder, ignoring the startled and slightly pained squeak as he squeezed. Right in the moment, he didn’t particularly care if he was gripping his shoulder too tight.

Professional.

“Surprised you managed to play stupid long enough for us to bail your dumbass out,” Katsuki ground out after a moment. The shitty nerd's face screwed up in confusion.

Fuck it, Best Jeanist and his lessons on professionalism could go suck a dick.

“Next heroics class, Deku,” Katsuki hissed, “I am going to fucking murder you.”

Spinner startled as Kurogiri’s phone went off, distracted from the soap opera that was Twice and Compress trying to keep Toga distracted enough so she didn’t go off and try to bleed out the U.A. kid Shigaraki had taken.

Kurogiri took one glance at his phone and sighed, and Spinner was intrigued because it was his ‘I told them this would be a bad idea, but I care too much to not bail them out' sigh. As the rest of the League was in the base, and Hawks was still stuck in witness protection, last he’d heard-

Kurogiri suddenly opened a portal, and Spinner flinched back as an absolutely feral screech came ringing out from whatever was going on on the other side. Compress, Twice, and Toga also had their attention drawn to the portal as Shigaraki and Dabi came stumbling through, the tail end of an explosion licking at the long ends of their coats as the portal closed.

“What’d I tell you?” Dabi asked Shigaraki, voice raspier than usual as both of them worked to catch their breath. “Fucking stupid plan. Didn’t work, and I’m not getting laid.”

“Oh, fuck the hell off!” Shigaraki snapped.

“I assume something went wrong?” Kurogiri asked neutrally, stepping himself, as he always did, into their confrontation before it could get too far. He set down two glasses of whiskey on the bar, several seats apart. The two of them grumbled, glaring at each other as they each took their seats, but eventually, Dabi answered.

“Heroes found us pretty fast. We’d barely had ten minutes to talk with the kid before the door got blown down.”

“That fucking Bakugou NPC is glitched!” Shigaraki screeched, cutting in, slamming an empty glass back on the bar. Spinner blinked, surprised. Shigaraki didn’t drink, most of the time, so it was an odd experience to watch him throw it back like that. “Spouted some bullshit about Dabi being Todoroki Touya, which is the fucking stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!”

“Even stupider than your own voice?” Toga asked, plopping herself in a seat next to Shigaraki.

He screeched.

“Aren’t the Todoroki’s Endeavor’s family?” Compress asked, taking another seat at the bar, he and Twice filling in the seats between Shigaraki and Dabi.

“And that’s exactly what makes it so fucking stupid!” Shigaraki shouted, waving his hands around angrily.

“You’ve entertained some wilder theories, Tomura,” Kurogiri reminded, refilling his glass.

“Yeah, but this is some next level manga plot-line bullshit!”

“I think Dabi’s broken,” Twice suddenly interrupted, leaning across the counter to grab everyone’s attention. “He seems fine to me!”

Spinner looked over at Dabi, who was staring blankly ahead with wide eyes, arm frozen with whiskey halfway to his lips.

“Dabi?” he asked hesitantly, nudging the man next to him.

“We sure the brain trauma hasn’t finally caught up with him?” Shigaraki muttered over the rim of his glass.

Dabi blinked after a few more moments, looking down at the counter as he lowered the glass, running his other hand through his hair.

“Holy shit, that name actually sounds really familiar.”

Shigaraki threw his half-full glass at the wall. “YOU’VE GOTTA BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!”

Shouto listened with attention as Midoriya gave his recounting of events, all of them having been ushered into a conference room along with Aizawa and several police officers.

“... and then Todoroki-kun grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the warehouse. He froze the quirk suppressors off of my wrists, and then I was taken over to an ambulance to be checked over.” Midoriya shrugged. “That’s about all I can remember.”

The police officer who was taking notes nodded, and stopped the voice recorder next to him. “Thank you, Midoriya-san.” His gaze turned to Bakugou, whose arms were crossed and a fierce scowl was still etched across his face, still not having calmed down much from the fight.

Shouto wondered if it was tiring, being that angry all the time.

The police officer clicked a few buttons on the voice recorder, turned to a new sheet in his notepad, and began a new recording. “Can you state your hero identification and civilian name for the record?”

“DynaMight, Provisional ID Number two one zero one seven nine nine eight. Bakugou Katsuki.”

“Please recount the events surrounding the rescue of Midoriya Izuku to the best of your ability.”

Shouto watched Bakugou’s eye twitch at the mention of ‘best of your ability,’ but he ground his teeth and began speaking nonetheless. “We were checking out a bunch of empty warehouses, and like half an hour into that, Icy Hot calls us over because he heard voices from inside one of them. Apparently heard Deku’s voice in there, so Endeavor had me blow down the door and be prepared to fight. Some of the League was there, so me and Endeavor head in to fight while Half n’ Half got Deku outta there. So I was fighting the handy-man from the League, Shigaraki or whatever, and then all of a sudden Endeavor’s worst son-”

“I was taking Midoriya outside, though?” Shouto suddenly interrupted in confusion, earning a dirty look from one of the officers. Bakugou gave him a confused look before rolling his eyes and moving on.

“Nah, not you, though you do suck pretty hard. The oldest one. Anyway, he-”

“Natsuo wasn’t there either, Bakugou.” And his father was the one to interrupt that time.

Bakugou gave the old man a look that Shouto thought was supposed to be incredulous, although it came out looking more disgusted than anything else. Then again, Bakugou looked disgusted when addressing other people in general.

“No, not him, dumbass,” Bakugou retorted mockingly. “The other one, CEO of Hot Topic, has like forty face piercings? Touya, or whatever his name was. Anyway, Dabi-”

Shouto felt his mind go blank, slowly and painfully connecting together the meaning behind Bakugou’s words. He heard his father go still across the table, as well. Thankfully, so he didn’t have to say anything, Aizawa interrupted.

“Bakugou,” he said, quickly cutting him off. “Are you implying that Dabi is Todoroki Touya?”

Even the police officers had stopped to stare at the explosive teen, who was starting to look pissed off again.

“Yes,” Bakugou said. “Obviously. I figured that out ages ago. Anyway-”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Aizawa asked, ignoring the deepening scowl on the other teen’s face at being interrupted again. Shouto was staring at him.

Touya, alive? (Albeit as a villain, but still. Alive.)

“I thought we all knew and we were being polite and not saying shit about it!” Bakugou snapped, throwing his hands up in frustration.

“Then why are you bringing it up?” Aizawa shot back, looking equally as annoyed with the situation as the two Todoroki’s in the room struggled to digest the information.

“I’m not good at being fucking polite!”

The strangled noise Aizawa let out in response, Shouto felt, accurately represented his mental state at that moment.

robin hood
why the fuck are you all so silent suddenly

teenage mutant ninja lizard
uh

robin hood
‘uh’ doesn’t keep shigaraki from getting scalped

teenage mutant ninja lizard
we found a pretty promising lead on dabi

we’ve just been checking it out

robin hood
i can’t help if you all decide to ghost me

hello?

@everyone

oh you motherfuckers

@mr. sandman you’re getting scalped the second i’m out of witness protection

chicken little
ruuuummmmiiiiiiii

how did rescuing the ua kid go?

bugs bunny
uh

chicken little
he’s not dead is he

bugs bunny
no, the little shit is fine

chicken little
okay, that’s great news

now what’s the ‘uh’ about

bugs bunny
some info came up about dabi form the league

we’re trying to verify it rn

chicken little
okay, you’re really beating around the bush here

what the fuck is wrong

bugs bunny
that’s kinda the problem

i’m not allowed to tell you until we can verify it, which is probably gonna take a while

i’m probably really stretching it telling you this much

chicken little
am i allowed to be patched in on the case once i’m out?

bugs bunny
i don’t think they’re gonna let that happen

chicken little
what’s going on rumi

bugs bunny
sorry keigo, im really not allowed to tell you

Keigo huffed, turning his phone off and tossed it onto the coffee table, leaning back on the couch.

‘You.’ Not ‘anybody.’

Keigo, contrary to popular belief, wasn’t a fucking idiot. He’d been on the other side of the situation before. They were worried he’d have a personal bias about whatever they’d discovered.

His sharp eyes glanced at the calendar hung up over the counter between the living room and the kitchen. One more day until he was out of witness protection. Four days until he was back on duty.

He ignored the pit in his stomach about what everything could mean.

uncaged birb @hawksofficial
GUESS WHO JUST GOT OUT OF WITNESS PROTECTION

“Okay,” Toga said, reading something on her phone as Twice fluttered about, Compress, Kurogiri, and Spinner watching on in amusement. Dabi had no idea where the hell Shigaraki could be. “All the movies I’ve ever seen had something about being able to get over amnesia if you’re reminded enough of what you forgot.”

“I don’t think movies are the pinnacle of psychological or medical knowledge,” Dabi commented dryly.

“Well, it's worth a shot, isn’t it?” Toga asked, waving her arms in frustration, cheeks puffing up in a pout. Dabi sighed and rolled his eyes, but waved his hand in a ‘go ahead’ gesture nonetheless. He heard Compress chuckle, and he shot a glare at the man, who held his hands up innocently.

Toga beamed.

“It turns out there’s a bunch of recent articles about Todoroki Touya, and all of them think he’s dead, but apparently a body was never found, so there’s a chance!” she said cheerily, shoving her phone in his face. “Here, read and see if you remember anything!”

Dabi rolled his eyes again, but took Toga’s phone obligingly, and began scanning the article.

WHO IS TODOROKI TOUYA?
By Koizumi Suzu

After the shocking trial against the-

Dabi huffed and skipped past whatever the introduction was, scrolling past the first few paragraphs to get it over with faster.

Todoroki Touya was the firstborn son of Todoroki Rei and Enji, otherwise known as pro hero Endeavor. He was born on January 18th, 2XXX. Not much is known about the first three Todoroki children, as they had been kept mostly out of the public eye. Todoroki Fuyumi, when we reached out to her for a comment, agreed to speak some of her late brother.

“Touya was… incredible. He helped our mother raise Natsuo and Shouto, and he was my best friend growing up. He always went out of his way to make sure we were all safe and happy, and when our mother was sent away, he tried his best to fill her place, those few years until he died.”

[Pictured, from left to right, Todoroki Fuyumi, age 7, Todoroki Touya, age 9, Todoroki Shouto, age 6 months, Todoroki Natsuo, age 4. Picture provided by Todoroki Fuyumi]

Dabi froze as he reached the picture, three bright, smiling children, and a wide-eyed infant, snow-white hair with splashes of red across the board.

He stared at it.

Something was tugging in the back of his mind.

His thoughts raced.

Shou, Yumi, Nat, Kei-

Touya remembered.

Touya and Yumi hid underneath a table, their mother’s feet walking right past as she called out in wonder. “I wonder where Touya and Fuyumi could be,” she said slowly, a smile in her voice. Touya shared a glance with his sister, the two of them starting to giggle. Their mom crouched down, her smiling face appearing as she looked under the table. “There’s my two little trouble makers. Come on, hide-and-seek’s over, time for lunch,” she said, scooping the two of them up to hold one on each hip, strong arms carrying them with ease. Touya laughed as her short white hair tickled his nose.

It all came flooding back.

“There’s a baby in mommy?” Nat asked in wonder, chubby little hands coming to rest on their mother’s stomach with as much care as a four-year-old’s motor skills could provide.

Touya nodded, smiling as their mother looked down at the two boys fondly. “Mm-hm! You were in mom once too, Na-chan.”

Nat looked up at him with big, round eyes, filled with all the wonder and innocence of the world. “Really?”

“Uh-huh! And now we’re gonna have a little brother!”

Nat beamed up at him, before returning his awed gaze to her swollen stomach.

How could he forget-

“Careful,” his mother’s exhausted voice warned him as she gently laid the baby in his arms. “Move your elbow a little, support his neck—yes, just like that.”

Touya stared down as the tiny person now cradled in his arms, soft tufts of white and red hair sticking up from the top of his head. Blue and grey eyes blinked back up at him. He looked at his mother. “His eyes are funny.”

She laughed—a soft, tinkling noise. “It’s called heterochromia, sweetie. It means his eyes are two different colors.”

“Ohhh.” Touya looked down at the baby again. “He’s my little brother?”

“Yes. This is your new little brother, Shouto.”

“Shouto,” Touya repeated slowly, staring at the baby. After a few moments, he beamed. “Hey, Shouto. I’m your big brother Touya. I’m gonna protect you since that’s what big brothers do!” he said, finishing with a note of pride. His mother chuckled.

“Yes, they certainly do,” she said, ruffling his hair.

Shouto stuck his hand in his mouth.

“I think he might be stupid.”

His mother laughed.

-everything-

“Hi!” his roommate chirped, bouncing up to him as he entered the room. “I’m Hawks! I’m thirteen, what’s your name?”

Touya stared at the other boy with an unimpressed look on his face. “Todoroki Touya. Fourteen. Do you have a real name or am I supposed to believe that your parents actually named you Hawks?”

The boy with the bird mutation blinked and reared back slightly, allowing Touya to step around him and set his bag on the extra bed in the room.

“I, uh,” the boy started hesitantly, and Touya looked back over his shoulder to him tapping his talons—he had talons? That was actually pretty sick—together nervously. “I’m not supposed to go by my legal name.”

“I’m not gonna tell on you if you tell me,” Touya said, raising an amused brow as red feathers puffed up in embarrassment, the younger’s face flushing. “I’m not a snitch.”

Clawed fingers twisted together for a moment, before freezing and clenching around each other. The other boy’s flush deepened. “...promise?”

“Yeah. I promise. Dorm secrets, or whatever. What happens in the dorm stays in the dorm.”

Feather boy stared at him for a few moments longer, before his hands clenched slightly again and he slowly untangled them, shakily holding one out for Touya.

“Takami, uh—Keigo. Takami Keigo. I prefer Keigo. Nice to meet you.”

Touya grinned and shook the boy—Keigo’s—hand. “Todoroki Touya.”

Keigo beamed. Touya already knew the other was going to be the death of him.

His head pounded.

He was burning, Touya was burning, he couldn’t fucking stop it-

“-i!...”

Blue flames surrounded him as he screamed-

“-bi!...”

He could feel his skin burning, and he could feel himself crying, but only blood made tacky by the heat was running down his face-

“-abi!...”

Touya screamed again as the fire kept licking at his body, and he could feel himself getting lightheaded, he was hyperventilating and he didn’t want to die-

“DABI!”

Dabi’s head snapped up, meeting Toga’s concerned gaze only a few inches from his face. In his peripheral vision, he could see the rest of the League (except Shigaraki, who was still off pouting somewhere) staring at him with worry.

“What the fuck?” he asked in a monotone after a few moments of silence.

Toga sniffled, and oh God, Dabi was not prepared to deal with a crying person right at that moment. “You were just staring at the screen for a really long time, and then when Jin tried to get your attention, you weren’t responding and-”

“What she means,” Compress interrupted gently, putting a hand on her shoulder, “is that you worried us for a moment there.”

“Oh,” Dabi said. Not the smartest response he’d ever had. To be fair, he was processing a shit ton of information. “Hold this,” he said, shoving Toga’s phone back at her as he roughly stood up.

The bar was silent as he took several quick strides over to the window, yanking the curtains aside and sliding the window open, sticking his head out into the alley between their building and the next.

Taking a deep breath-

“MOTHERFUCKER!”

He listened to it echo slightly in the alley before ducking his head back inside, shutting the window and closing the curtain. He turned back to the occupants of the bar, who were all staring at him in shocked silence. “Sorry about that, I just remembered my entire fucking life.”

Spinner made an odd, aborted choking noise.

Before anybody could make much more of a reaction, however, the door to the bar slammed open, and a dangerously sweet voice floated in.

“~Shigaraki~ I’ve come for your scalp,” Hawks said in a sing-song voice as he prowled inside.

Oh, Dabi was not ready for that conversation. Whether it was because of the threat against his scalp or because of the emotional baggage, he wasn’t sure.

However, Twice took away the option of not talking about it, probably in a well-meaning attempt to redirect Hawks’ attention from his bloodlust, by shouting, “Dabi’s Todoroki Touya! No, he’s not!”

Hawks froze. And slowly, ever so slowly, began to turn his head to look directly at Dabi, who froze in turn.

It was silent for a moment.

Hawks took a deep breath.

“Spinner,” he started suddenly.

“Yes?” the mutant in question responded quickly.

“Tell Shigaraki he gets to keep his scalp for another day. You,” he continued, stalking over to Dabi with a dangerous look, fisting his hand in the collar of his jacket, “are coming with me. Kurogiri, could you be a dear and give me a portal back to my apartment?”

Dabi decided he really hated favoritism as the bartender opened a portal without question.

He resigned himself to his fate as Hawks dragged him through, tossing a “Thank you,” over his shoulder before the portal closed.

Hawks’ apartment was nice, Dabi was able to decide quickly. Open plan, high rise, one of the walls was completely made out of glass. Once that was out of the road, Dabi didn’t have much choice but to focus on the dangerously calm face in front of him.

“Was Twice telling the truth?” he asked blankly, making direct eye contact. “Are you Todoroki Touya?”

Dabi swallowed, his throat feeling weirdly tight. “Hey, Kei-chan.”

Dabi wasn’t sure whether or not to be surprised by the punch that snapped his head to the side.

“You fucking asshole!” Hawks screeched. “I thought you were dead, I fucking grieved over you, you piece of shit!”

“To be fair,” Dabi tried slowly, holding a hand against his stinging cheek, watching Hawks’ wings stretch out and puff up in agitation, “I had no idea anybody thought I died until like, ten minutes ago.”

“Shut the fuck up, I’m trying to be mad at you!” he snapped. Dabi, suddenly able to recall thousands of memories of the hero that he hadn’t before, simply laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and guided the other over to the couch as he continued to shout profanities at him. “Do you know how times I cried over your grave, you dickhead! Too many times to be putting up with all this fucking bullshit, that’s for sure! God fucking dammit!”

While Dabi might have more memories of Hawks, that didn’t necessarily mean he knew precisely what to do at that moment. Suddenly returning from the dead because you finally remembered all your memories after seven years of looking and then confronting your old boyfriend wasn’t really something Dabi had a point of reference for.

“Do you know how many fucking awkward conversations I’ve had to have with your sister about this? Too fucking many! Could’ve at least told them you had a boyfriend so I didn’t have to tell your entire family that shit on national television!” Okay, Dabi really wanted to ask what the fuck that was about, but knew it wasn’t the time, unless he was feeling lucky. Which he kinda wasn’t.

As they sat down on the couch, Hawks yelling all the while, Dabi took note of his red eyes and blotchy cheeks, and even though there weren’t any tears, he knew Hawks was crying (at least they matched, now, in their lack of ability to properly cry).

Trying to be comforting seemed the most likely route to not getting stabbed (or scalped).

In one quick movement, he pulled Hawks to his chest, wrapping his arms the other, rubbing the space in between his wings as the appendages flapped in frustration. “You’re such a fucking asshole!” Hawks' voice was muffled by his shirt.

“Yeah,” he agreed neutrally. Hawks’ shoulders began to shake.

“You’re such a problematic dickhead!” he continued, hitting his fist weakly against Dabi’s chest.

“I am.”

“Stop fucking agreeing with me!”

“Alright.”

“I fucking hate you!”

“Love you too, Keigo.”

And that seemed to be the final straw for Hawks, as he fell limp, wrapping his arms around Dabi and fisting his hands in the back of his shirt.

Touya held Keigo close as he sobbed.

He ran his fingers through the other's hair, humming a meaningless tune in the back of his throat as Keigo’s chest hitched with every breath, each high pitched, shuddering sob muffled by Touya’s shirt.

Eventually, Keigo slowly began to grow still. The apartment was dark, by then, the sun slowly having fallen lower and lower below the horizon. Touya worried Keigo might have fallen asleep, but continued to run his fingers through his hair.

A good few minutes after Keigo’s shoulders had finally fallen still and his breathing evened out, he slowly lifted his head from Touya’s chest, his face flushed and eyes an irritated red. He sniffed as he sat up, pulling away slightly.

“Hey, birdie,” Touya said, giving him a small smile. Keigo let out a startled, wet laugh as he rubbed his eyes.

“Hey, hot stuff,” he responded with a shaky grin. “Do you-” he cut himself off, looking uncertain. Touya laced his fingers together with Keigo’s, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “Do—do you want to be Touya and Keigo, again?” he asked in a soft voice, using the hand that wasn’t entwined with Touya’s to gesture between them. “Do you still want there to be—an us?”

Touya sighed. “I don’t think we can go entirely back. We’re still Dabi and Hawks.” He waved lamely with one hand out the window. “But—I’d like to be Touya, again. With you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Keigo nodded shakily, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Touya’s. “Let’s… leave the rest of this conversation for tomorrow, I’m fucking drained.” Touya laughed in agreement, and Keigo smiled. “For now…” he smiled, leaning forward and pressing his lips against Touya’s, who readily reciprocated the action. His head tilted slightly and one hand tangled in Keigo’s hair, the other wrapped around his waist, tugging him forward to straddle Touya’s lap.

Keigo shifted slightly, his arms and shoulders shifting back and his red leather jacket landed on the floor, a slight rustle accompanying the reformation of his wings. He pressed deeper into the kiss, tongue running along Touya’s mismatched lips which opened readily for him. Clawed hands delved into his raggedy coat, and Touya easily acquiesced, shrugging the coat off.

Touya pulled away as his body warmed, staring into Keigo’s blown eyes. “Okay, uh—I have two questions if this is going where I think it’s going.”

“It probably is,” Keigo responded, a teasing smirk playing along his lips.

“Great, okay. First—are you sure you want this?”

“Fuck yes.”

“Cool, we’re in agreement.” Keigo laughed at him, looping his arms around his shoulders. “Second—is this a good idea?”

“Probably not,” Keigo admitted, though he made no effort to move. “But I’m not well known for making the best decisions.”

“Mmm, am I a guilty pleasure, then?”

“Guilty of several crimes, yes.”

Touya barked a laugh at the response, Keigo grinning down at him. He quickly calmed himself before he continued speaking. “It’s probably at this point I should tell you that people weren’t exactly lining up to fuck rotting eggplants, so I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Keigo snorted, rolling his eyes. “I’m a workaholic who was just under so many NDAs it wasn’t even funny. I didn’t exactly get laid, either.”

“Fantastic, neither of us know what we’re doing.”

Keigo laughed at that, before tugging Touya up to his feet. “Come on. You’ve seen porn, I’ve seen porn, I have lube in my bedroom. We can piece it together.”

“Great. I love puzzles,” Touya muttered sarcastically, following Keigo’s lead.

“Do you wanna fuck or not?” Keigo asked him sharply as they stumbled into what must’ve been his bedroom, going by the insanely large bed in the center (Touya didn’t think you could get bigger than a king-size bed, but apparently he was wrong).

“Yeah-”

“Then keep the snark to yourself and strip. I refuse to have my first time feeling like some half-clothed alleyway fuck.”

it’s ✨spicy nostalgia✨ @hawksofficial
in a shocking turn of events, it turns out my therapist was right and that facing my trauma head-on makes things significantly better.

on an unrelated note, i have a pounding headache after crying for several hours last night.

lola bunny @mirukoofficial
Replying to @hawksofficial
i really don’t know how concerned i should be about this. do i want to know what you did?

it’s ✨spicy nostalgia✨ @hawksofficial
Replying to @mirukoofficial
probably not.

Best Jeanist @bestjeanistofficial
Replying to @hawksofficial and @mirukoofficial
Please tell me that’s not code for something illegal.

it’s ✨spicy nostalgia✨ @hawksofficial
Replying to @bestjeanistofficial and @mirukoofficial
no comment

Best Jeanist @bestjeanistofficial
Replying to @hawksofficial and @mirukoofficial
HAWKS.

hoshi @banjopiccalo
Replying to @hawksofficial
i refuse to believe there’s anything more chaotic than hawks’ twitter account post-hpsc

yasu @ production period!!! @flygirl2X
Replying to @banjopiccalo and @hawksofficial
i mean, you’re not wrong

Tomura wasn’t really sure what to expect when Kurogiri looked down at his phone and opened a portal, and Hawks came through, dragging Dabi behind him - especially after the rest of the League’s recounting of the day before. Dabi stumbled a few steps behind Hawks before being shoved onto the couch by the hero.

Hawks then scanned the room, waving back at Twice and Toga, before his eyes landed on Tomura, who tensed, eight fingers tightening around his DS as the Hawks stalked towards him. He wouldn’t actually do it.

“Shigaraki,” Hawks said, a dangerous smile on his face as he laid his hand on his shoulder. Tomura met the glare with one of his own. “Thanks to a unique set of circumstances that isn’t going to happen again, I’ve decided to spare you, this time. However,” his smile turned sharp, “you do anything like that again, and that oily rag on your head will be hung on my wall. Cool? Cool.” And Hawks clapped him on the shoulder in a gesture that implied far too much familiarity before turning and walking away before Tomura could properly respond.

“Stop fucking trying to threaten me!” he shouted at Hawks’ back, who simply made a dismissive gesture over his shoulder that made Tomura’s blood pressure skyrocket.

As Hawks took a seat at the bar and began talking to Kurogiri, who greeted him warmly, Tomura heard Spinner ask Dabi, “Did you get laid or beat up?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Hawks said, clapping his hands together as he finally got the entire League to sit down together. “Since you assholes couldn’t be bothered to watch the news these past seven months,” he turned on the TV, hooked up to his laptop, showing a presentation he’d spent the past several days putting together, “allow me to give you the rundown of all the bullshit you’ve caused.”

“Any questions?” he asked, turning back to the room after two hours.

Silence.

The League stared at the screen with wide eyes.

“Great, now we can move on to what this means for you guys,” Hawks said before they could recover. Their gazes slowly turned to focus on him. “There are two options I see here for you. Either you just continue on, starting to do your villainy stuff again, or you could—well, I won’t get into the legalities, but while public support is high, you can probably swing getting into vigilante reform programs. That’s the route I’d recommend. After a rehabilitation period, you can all probably apply for P.I. licenses, or, if you really want to, U.A. has moved to a university format, as well as most other hero schools, so Spinner, along with Dabi, Toga, and Shigaraki, assuming you’re willing to work to earn your GEDs, could apply there. Compress, Twice, and Kurogiri probably could as well, but you’re a bit over the target demographic. You could alternatively apply for a Quirk license in combination with a P.I. license. There’s a lot more to it than that, but that route would allow all of you to continue what you have been doing, just without having to avoid the cops.”

“You’re suggesting that we turn ourselves in,” Shigaraki commented flatly after a moment. Hawks shrugged.

“Pretty much. I can probably advocate for you guys. As the Number One hero, my word carries a bit of weight.”

Dabi choked on a mouthful of water—Hawks felt a sense of vindictive revenge, for the other had caused him to do the same more than once—and stared at him incredulously, the rest of the League doing the same. “Since when the fuck were you the Number One hero?”

“Since the last billboard. I gave you guys the sparknotes version of the past few months.”

Hawks paused for a moment, thinking. The HPSC had been shut down, and its offices raided. Nobody had approached him about any secret mission to infiltrate the League of Villains, so it was pretty safe for him to assume it hadn’t been put on any records. He might have wanted to think that it was to maintain complete secrecy, but Hawks was a realistic person. The HPSC was more than willing to throw people under the bus. He was the only person not in prison who knew about it (though, knowing Dabi was Touya made him fairly sure the other knew, or at least suspected). After another moment of thought, he decided he might as well keep it that way. It had stopped being a mission a while ago, he knew that. He was still here, even with nobody to report to.

“I got into this whole thing because I wanted to see what was wrong with hero society change, and I didn’t see any way to do that as a hero—and I guess I was right about that much at least.” Hawks shrugged, averting his gaze from the League down to his laptop. “The way things are run has been completely overhauled, the HPSC has been shut down, new regulations put in place, and heroes are working together better than ever.” He looked back up at the League. “I like you guys, I really do, but my goals have been accomplished. I like being a hero, and I enjoy saving people. Quirk discrimination laws have been expanded and sympathy for villains is at an all-time high.” He averted his gaze again. “I like to think you’re all good people. You can just become civilians if you want to, but I think you’d all make pretty great heroes.”

He heard a sniffle, and froze, head snapping around to stare at Toga, whose eyes were watering.

“You mean it?” she asked, trembling slightly. “You—you really think a freak like me could be a hero?”

Hawks’ eyes softened.

“Whoever told you you’re a freak is a dumbass. You’re a great kid, Toga. The world’s just been unfairly cruel to you. I think you’d make an incredible hero.”

She burst into tears.

tragic backstory boy
concept: before we turn ourselves in, i give a dramatic performance and share all the shit my father’s done as my last act of villainy

zazu
concept: no

tragic backstory boy
babe please

zazu
you’re going to embarrass yourself, i guarantee it

wanna see a magic trick?
...I will admit to being intrigued by the idea.

zazu
of course you are, you drama queen

💖🔪✨Himikuwu✨🔪💖
oooh, you could dance!!!! it’ll be like musical theatre!!!!!

tragic backstory boy
genius

zazu
i wonder why i’m even surprised that you’re into this idea too

hand puppets
i’m in

zazu
okay, i know you’re only in it to annoy me

tragic backstory boy
what dance should i do

zazu
no!!!!

💖🔪✨Himikuwu✨🔪💖
do the wap dance

tragic backstory boy
ideas like this are why you’re my favorite

💖🔪✨Himikuwu✨🔪💖
:3c

zazu
dabi you are not flexible enough to do the wap you’re gonna pop so many staples

tragic backstory boy
oh, like you are?

zazu
…

tragic backstory boy
wait can you do the wap

zazu
i don’t see how that’s relevant to this discussion

tragic backstory boy
1. hot

2. teach me for my dramatic performance

hand puppet
dabi stop being horny

teenage mutant ninja lizard
not gonna lie i think that’s his default setting

twinsies
no it’s not!!!!

he’s a fucking horndog

tragic backstory boy
i’ve talked it over with hawks, and after some negotiations, it has been decided i will not be doing the wap

💖🔪✨Himikuwu✨🔪💖
awwww :(

hand puppet
you two are revolting

zazu
you’re not going to be doing any dramatic performance

tragic backstory boy
i need a different dance

zazu
don’t you fucking ignore me

teenage mutant ninja lizard
i guess this means the honeymoon period is over

twinsies
they’ll be fine!

i bet it’s not gonna last the year

mom friend
Spinner, Twice, it’s not polite to talk about peoples’ relationships like that

teenage mutant ninja lizard
sorry

twinsies
sorry

fuck off

💖🔪✨Himikuwu✨🔪💖
i could teach you how to renegade!

tragic backstory boy
and you continue to be my favorite

zazu
you’re sleeping on the couch tonight

Dabi was usually the first one up; he had a tendency to crash around seven PM, and then sleep for eleven hours. Kurogiri was usually that next one awake, appearing in the bar around seven AM. The rest of the League would trickle in slowly after that.

So it was a bit odd for Shigaraki to slouch into the bar not long after six.

Dabi raised an eyebrow. “You’re up bright and early.”

“Fuck off,” Shigaraki growled lowly, throwing himself into the seat next to Dabi, reaching for the coffee maker. Dabi snorted into his mug.

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

“Giran called,” Shigaraki said. “Managed to track down your old phone number and contacts. He’s emailed them to you, for whatever the hell you’re planning to use them for.”

“Nice.” Dabi took a sip of his coffee and paused, pinching his lips as he considered his next words. “Hey, uh…” Shigaraki looked over, his permanent condescending look on his face. God, Dabi was regretting his decision already. “Thanks for helping me out with the whole amnesia thing. You didn’t have to, so I—I really appreciate it. Thank you.”

After a few moments wherein Shigaraki didn’t respond, Dabi glanced over at him, silently preparing himself for whatever mocking comment he was gonna get in response.

“Yeah. No problem.”

Dabi blinking, staring at Shigaraki, who was determinedly not looking at him, a furious flush over his face.

“Are we having a moment?” he asked after a second.

“If by ‘moment,’ you mean I don’t want to murder you for once, then yes.”

“Cool. Is it over?”

“Yes.”

They sat in silence for another few moments before Dabi broke it again.

“That was nice and all, but I’m not really digging this whole ‘being civil to each other’ thing.”

“It was fucking weird, and you have yourself to blame for bringing it up.”

“Wanna argue?”

“This is getting uncomfortable, so either you start something, or I will.”

“Oh, shoving all your dirty work onto me, you discount Silent Hill character?”

Shigaraki slammed his mug of coffee down on the table, turning to glare at Dabi, eyes blazing.

“Okay, you know what-!”

foghorn leghorn @hawksofficial
you know when somebody goes and does something you explicitly told them not to do and you have to ask why god is testing your patience like this.

long story short, i stopped a murder today

lola bunny @mirukoofficial
Replying to @hawksofficial
that’s literally our job, how was this any different than usual?

foghorn leghorn @hawksofficial
Replying to @mirukoofficial
i stopped this one through self-control

[Video]

DABI'S DANCE | League of Villains turn themselves in (FULL VIDEO)
#1 on Trending

13,389,057 views   708k likes   45k dislikes   SHARE   SAVE

mr compress stan

Published March 23, 2XXX

i couldn’t find the full raw video without news commentary anywhere, so i stitched it together myself for the masses to enjoy

25,726 Comments

Add a public comment

Kawaguchi Akimitsu

i genuinely do not know what to focus on here. do you focus on:

- dabi trying to do the wap dance, getting to the chorus and immediately shouting “OW FUCK MY STAPLES!” before switching to the renegade
- the amount of piping hot tea dabi spilled while doing the renegade
- the fact that dabi’s todoroki touya
- the fact that they mic’d dabi
- twice holding the boombox in the background like he’s playing careless whisper
- toga live streaming the whole thing
- the poor police officer who tries to ask toga who’s in charge and she just says “it’s usually whoever yells loudest”
- shigaraki laughing at dabi
- kurogiri shaking his head like a depressed and disappointed parent
- mr compress shouting staging cues at dabi like a stage mom
- the league of villains turning themselves over into police custody

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Hamasaki Katsuhito

the disparity between dabi doing the renegade and exposing endeavor for child abuse and revealing himself as the thought-to-be-dead todoroki touya is incomprehensible

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Morikawa Sayaka

i just went through five lifetimes worth of emotions in as many minutes

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Touya
[peacesign.img]

i lived, bitch

Natsuo
TOUYA?

Fuyumi
TOUYA?

Shouto
Hello, Touya.

Touya
okay, you could at least pretend to be surprised shouto

Shouto
Oh, sorry. Give me a second.

TOUYA?

Touya
that’s more like it

Natsuo
what the fuck is going on

Fuyumi
Language!

Touya
1. im insulted that’s what you chose to focus on

2. that’s a good question

the police will explain when they come calling

Fuyumi
The police????

“Hey, Todoroki-kun!”

Shouto blinked and looked over his shoulder, catching sight of Midoriya racing towards, almost tripping over his own feet. “Midoriya.”

The green-haired boy finally caught up to him, exhaling a heavy sigh as he caught his breath before beaming up at him. “I missed you when we moved into the new dorms, yesterday! Are you excited for the new year?”

Shouto shrugged. “I suppose.”

“How was your break?”

“I’m sure you saw about it on the news.”

Midoriya averted a guilty look. “I know, but I—I wanted to make sure you were doing okay, Todoroki-kun.”

“Oh.” That was nice, Shouto thought. “I talked to Touya. His case was expedited, and he’s elected to stay with Hawks for his rehabilitation. I think he felt awkward.”

“It is a bit of an odd situation to be in.”

“Mm. My father’s case is next week. Detective Tsukauchi said he’s most likely going to be convicted.”

“Are you happy about it?” Midoriya asked hesitantly.

Shouto’s steps froze for a brief second, before he continued keeping pace with Midoriya. He thought about it. “I don’t know. I think I am.”

“It’s okay to be conflicted, Todoroki-kun!” Midoriya reassured him with yet another bright smile. Shouto wondered if his face hurt from smiling all the time. He wasn’t sure if that was a rude thing to ask somebody. “Take your time, your feelings don’t have to be immediate.”

“Okay.” A silence fell over them. Shouto wondered what he was supposed to do. “How was your break, Midoriya?”

When Midoriya grinned and launched into a story of staying up all night to get tickets for HeroCon (“I got an extra one, do you want to come with, Todoroki-kun?” “Sure.”), and a cool hero fight he saw when he was on a grocery run for his mother, Shouto decided that’d been the right move.

It was nice, he thought, the slightest of smiles crossing his lips. Having friends was nice.

toucan sam @hawksofficial
“how can you still love touya, he’s a criminal!”

let me explain:

1. i have so much personal bias when it comes to him that legally i will never be allowed to work on a case he’s involved in

2. he was hot then, he’s hot now

3. trauma bonding

toucan sam @hawksofficial
Replying to @hawksofficial
4. i make notoriously bad decisions

5. i am a bird, and his face is full of shiny things

sleep paralysis demon @imbluedabidee
Replying to @hawksofficial
i knew you only loved me for the piercings

toucan sam @hawksofficial
Replying to @imbluedabidee
it’s not like i love you for your personality

sleep paralysis demon @imbluedabidee
Replying to @hawksofficial
bitch

jessica rabbit @ getting hitched @mirukoofficial
Replying to @imbluedabidee and @hawksofficial
if you two start fighting i’ll kick your asses, yumi doesn’t need that energy tomorrow

sleep paralysis demon @imbluedabidee
Replying to @mirukoofficial and @hawksofficial
do not worry future sister-in-law, all will be sorted out in time

jessica rabbit @ getting hitched @mirukoofficial
Replying to @imbluedabidee and @hawksofficial
hawks, i know i made fun of you for being single, but you can do better than this

toucan sam @hawksofficial
Replying to @mirukoofficial and @imbluedabidee
you’re marrying into the family too, we’ll all be at the same family dinners

jessica rabbit @ getting hitched @mirukoofficial
Replying to @hawksofficial and @imbluedabidee
what are my chances of convincing yumi to disown him

sleep paralysis demon @imbluedabidee
Replying to @mirukoofficial and @hawksofficial
considering that i didn’t text her for a few days once and she showed up to our apartment to make sure i hadn’t accidentally faked my death again, low

jessica rabbit @ getting hitched @mirukoofficial
Replying to @imbluedabidee and @hawksofficial
goddammit

Touya woke up slowly, jostled into consciousness by a finger poking at his cheek.

“Hey, sleepyhead. Wake up.”

Touya groaned, slowly peeling his eyes open to squint up at the blurry figure above him.

“Keigo?” he asked, voice raspier than usual. “What time is it?”

“It’s seven, sleeping beauty. Come on, up and at ‘em. Your sister’s getting married today, and I think she might actually kill me if you don’t show up.”

Touya laughed, stretching his arms above his head before moving his head up to peck Keigo’s lips as he leaned over him. “She won’t kill you,” he said, sleepiness slowly starting to fade from his mind as Keigo crossed his arms and laid his head down on Touya’s chest. “She’s too nice for that.” He ran his fingers through Keigo’s hair.

“Yeah, but she’ll give me that ‘I’m not mad, just disappointed’ look that makes you wish she'd kill you instead.”

“Fair enough,” he agreed, finally sitting up, Keigo moving with him. He kissed Keigo again, who smiled against his lips. Touya’s hands were smacked away as they ran down his back.

“Hands above the hips, buster, we’re on a schedule today,” Keigo reprimanded, pulling away with a smile and rolling out of bed.

Touya laughed again, a grin pulling at his staples as he threw the sheets off his person. Not a bad way to wake up.