Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

English is not my first lenguaje, I use Google traductor for translate this.

okay, before you all start lighting up the torches. I had commissioned different 'writers' to write down my ideas and to better draft the ones I had written, all in chapter packages (meaning they would write 5 chapters for 3 dollars) and... well now I come to find out that they used AI and that's why they were so cheap 🙃.

I don't know how I will continue with this project, I genuinely love WanderHawks and I want to share my ideas but in a decent quality (my strength is math and biology, not writing... and ironically my biggest hobby is reading, XD)... I don't know if I will put the chapters in a filter to make them seem less robotic and thus not bother the readers so much, but at the same time I do not want nor do I intend to give the middle finger to the writers, I also really write and most of the chapters I wrote the draft in my notebook and passed them to the 'writers' to polish it and make it better written, seeing the final work made me happy, happy because I see my brain idea written like others works and books (I just supposed the write style was because the 'writters' way to write it).

I don't want to be replaced with an AI, I genuinely want to express my ideas and shout them out so you can see what my brain concocted with these three characters, and the AI, without me knowing it, was a great tool for me to make it a reality... I'm very sorry about this, writers and readers, but know that my love and ideas for this crackship are genuine.

Chapter Text

The Hero Commission's office was bathed in city light, but inside the room, the air was stifling. Not from the heat, but from Endeavor's presence. Endeavor, the number one hero, stood tall and imposing, his fiery presence dominating the room. Sitting across from him, Wanderer maintained a relaxed posture, his expression calm but his eyes sharp, as if daring anyone to challenge him, as if every word he heard were a challenge disguised as a proposal.

"Your existence is a rare phenomenon," Endeavor began, with the coldness of someone analyzing an experiment. "You possess the physiology of an Alpha and an Omega at the same time. Something that evolution hasn't allowed in our world, and that makes you... valuable. As if that weren't enough, your Quirk—that ability to manipulate the wind with pinpoint precision—is worthy of someone who stands above others."

Hawks, who had been leaning against the wall, narrowed his eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Endeavor ignored the comment. "I've dedicated my life to creating the perfect successor. Someone who can surpass All Might and carry the torch of heroism into the future. Your unique physiology might just make that possible."

He stares into Wanderer's eyes, his determination imposing. "It means you represent a unique possibility. An heir with the power of an Alpha and the ability of an Omega to enhance his bloodline. Combined with the right Quirk, he could be the ultimate hero. The only one capable of surpassing All Might."

The room fell silent, the weight of Endeavor's words hanging between them. Wanderer's mind raced, not with fear, but with anger. He had suffered discrimination his entire life, labeled "unnatural" by a society that feared what it didn't understand, from the Escaramouche and now as Wanderer here. And now, here was Endeavor, the epitome of that society, seeking to exploit him for his own gain.

Wanderer's mocking smile faded, replaced by a cold, calculating stare. "You want to use me as a tool for your ambitions. How... predictable." His blue gaze blazed with a spark of defiance. "Is that how you see people? As pieces in a genetic equation that exist only to fulfill your personal aspirations?"

Wanderer let out a small sigh, crossing his legs with an expression that bordered on amusement and contempt. "So, basically, you want to use me as a warrior factory. Is that what you're proposing?"

He looked at Wanderer with a smile full of confidence and arrogance. "An Omega like you, with power of that magnitude, is a waste next to a Beta. You don't deserve to be with someone so... common."

Endeavor didn't hesitate. "You're too valuable to be wasted on a Beta like Hawks."

"Endeavor," Hawks said, his tone uncharacteristically serious. "You can't force this. Wanderer isn't a pawn in your game."

The fire around Endeavor grew, his frustration evident. "I'm building the future of heroes." Endeavor exhaled impatiently, turning his sharp gaze on Hawks. "I wouldn't expect a Beta to understand this."

Hawks frowned and leaned forward. "That's low, even for you."

Wanderer only smiled, but his gaze was as sharp as a knife. "I'm perfectly aware of how this society labels those who don't fit its perfect structure. A Beta is treated as a 'neutral,' someone without genetic value. An Omega is considered a subordinate, a fertile and weak figure. And an Alpha is seen as the pinnacle of evolution. But my existence doesn't fit that mold, and that bothers you, doesn't it?"

Endeavor narrowed his eyes, his flames crackling with frustration. "It irritates me to see such great potential wasted on those who don't deserve it."

His aura charged with invisible but palpable energy. "No, Endeavor. You are building your own legacy, without considering the consequences for those who truly matter. I have no interest in being part of your game, nor serving as a cog in your plan."

Wanderer leaned forward, his voice low but firm as thunder. "If there's one thing you should understand, Endeavor, it's that I am not a tool to you. I am not a piece of your plan, nor a variable in your genetic equation."

Wanderer said firmly, "Find someone else to fulfill your twisted dreams."

Hawks smirked from his corner. "Well said."

Endeavor watched Wanderer, his mind working on an answer. But even he understood that he couldn't convince him. At least, not now.

Number One sighed, finally extinguishing his flames. "You don't know what you're rejecting."

Wanderer met his gaze calmly. "I don't want to know."

"You're making a mistake. This isn't just about me; this is about the future of hero society."

Wanderer stood up, his movements graceful but defiant. “The future of hero society doesn't depend on a 'perfect' child. It depends on the ability of people like you to see beyond their own arrogance.”

Endeavor narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. With those words, the conversation ended. Endeavor left the room without another word.

Wanderer watched their departure indifferently. He knew Endeavor wouldn't let this go so easily. But he wasn't someone to be pushed around, either.

Hawks turned to Wanderer with a wry smile. “You know, there's something satisfying about seeing you reject him like that.”

Wanderer looked back, his expression softening only slightly. “I'm not someone to be pushed around.”

“Good,” Hawks said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I thought this was going to end worse.”

Wanderer turned to him with a half-smile. “Maybe it's not over yet.”

Hawks sighed, but his smile didn't disappear. "Yeah, well, at least you have someone on your side." He wasn't alone. And in a world that often sought to bring him down, that was enough.

The two walked out together, leaving the Hero Commission office behind. The world would still try to define Wanderer by its rules, but he would always defy those expectations.

Chapter Text

In the bustling city of Musutafu, where heroes soared through the skies and villains lurked in shadows, there was a family unlike any other. Hawks, the sharp-eyed hero with wings as majestic as a hawk’s, shared his life with Wanderer, a man whose mysterious past was matched only by his resilience and sharp wit. Together, they were raising Kujou Sara, their fierce and determined daughter.

Sara was a marvel in the world of quirks, a reflection of her parentage. Her quirk, "Thunderous Wings," was a fusion of Hawks’ powerful wings and an electrifying energy reminiscent of Wanderer’s essence. Her wings were both a shield and a weapon, crackling with electrical energy that she could unleash at will. Despite her impressive abilities, her skill with the bow was not inherited; it was something she had painstakingly honed over years of practice, a mark of her dedication and discipline. Through her training, she learned to infuse her arrows with her quirk, creating electrified projectiles that could strike with precision and power.

It was a rare quiet evening in their home, nestled amidst the chaos of Musutafu. Hawks lounged on the couch, his wings draped behind him, while Wanderer stood by the window, lost in thought. Sara entered, her bow slung across her back, her eyes filled with determination.

“Dad, I need to refine my aerial combat skills,” she said, addressing Hawks. “I want to make my quirk and my techniques work seamlessly together.”

Hawks leaned forward, his trademark grin lighting up his face. “Of course, Sara. The sky’s the limit—literally. Let’s get to it.”

Wanderer turned to face them, his expression softening. “Precision is everything, Sara. Remember, the air isn’t just your ally—it can also be your enemy. Trust your instincts.”

The training session began, and Sara’s focus was unwavering. Hawks guided her in the art of flight, teaching her to maneuver with agility and confidence. Wanderer provided tactical advice, helping her anticipate her opponent’s moves and adapt her strategy mid-combat. Under their watchful eyes, Sara practiced infusing her arrows with electricity, releasing them in swift bursts that illuminated the twilight sky.

After hours of hard work, Sara landed gracefully, her wings folding behind her. She looked at her fathers, her face alight with gratitude. “Thanks to you both, I feel closer to being the hero I want to be.”

Wanderer placed a hand on her shoulder, while Hawks pulled her into a warm hug. “Being a hero isn’t just about power or skill,” Hawks said, his voice steady. “It’s about heart. And you, Sara, have a heart that can light up the darkest skies.”

As the three of them stood together, surrounded by the gentle hum of the city, they weren’t just heroes. They were a family—a bond stronger than any quirk could ever be.

Chapter Text

Dawn bathed the horizon in golden hues, tinting the rooftops of Musutafu with a soft warmth. From the top of a skyscraper, Hawks watched with a proud smile as his daughter, Kujou Sara, spread her electrified wings with restrained excitement.

"Well, Sara, today's the big day," said the winged hero, flexing his own red wings. "Time to learn what it means to truly fly."

Sara, her feet firmly planted on the rooftop floor, looked down. The height was impressive, but her excitement was even greater.

"I've glided before, Dad," she replied confidently, adjusting the stance of her wings. "But I want to do it right, like you."

Hawks laughed softly. "Not just like me, honey. You have a special bonus. Those electric shocks are going to make your movements even more spectacular."

A few feet away, Wanderer stood on the rooftop railing, feeling the wind with his eyes closed. The breeze was perfect for training, neither too strong nor too gentle. With a precise movement of his hand, he adjusted the airflow, ensuring Sara had natural support on her first serious flight.

"The wind is on your side," he said without opening his eyes. "Use it well."

Sara inhaled deeply. She knew she had the skill, but uncertainty still throbbed in her chest.

"It's okay," she murmured to herself.

Hawks approached her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Trust your wings. They're not just a power, Sara. They're an extension of you. And remember the most important thing…"

Sara turned her face toward him expectantly.

"Have fun," Hawks finished with a playful smile before launching himself into the void.

Without thinking twice, Sara bent her legs and jumped after him. The first moment was dizzying, the air brushing her skin as she fell. But then, her wings unfurled, and electricity coursed through her feathers like a natural pulse.

She wasn't just flying—she was bending the air to her advantage.

Hawks guided her with gentle tilts of his body, his wings tracing patterns in the wind. Sara watched and replicated, adjusting the strength of her Quirk to stabilize herself.

From the rooftop, Wanderer watched them silently. A small sliver of pride crossed his face as he watched his daughter soar through the sky with growing confidence.

Sara made a powerful turn in the air, feeling the power of the current beneath her wings. She laughed excitedly, the pure sound of happiness resonating over the city.

Hawks approached her and lightly patted her back mid-flight. "You've got it, Sara. Now, fly without fear."

And so he did.

The sky and the wind, natural elements that unite this family.

Chapter Text

The first light of dawn spilled over the horizon, and Wanderer, still wrapped in the lethargy of sleep, rose from bed. With slow steps, he made his way to the dining room, longing for the usual morning silence to fully wake up.

But the usual calm had been replaced by a peculiar sound: a soft "chirp-chirp." Wanderer froze in front of the door, frowning as he tried to decipher what he was hearing. He pushed the door open carefully and blinked at the scene before him.

In the middle of the dining room, Hawks was sitting on a chair, leaning towards Kujou Sara, who was perched on another chair across from him. They stared at each other intensely, and the strangest thing was that they were making soft chirps and warbles, as if they were having a conversation... in bird language.

"What...," Wanderer began, but his voice was drowned out by another particularly enthusiastic chirp from Sara. Hawks raised a hand, asking for silence without even looking at him, and replied with a quick warble that made Sara burst into delighted giggles.

"What are you doing?" Wanderer finally asked, crossing his arms as he observed, both confused and somewhat incredulous.

"Ah, Fujin, good morning," Hawks said in a casual tone as he let out one last warble before turning to him. "We're perfecting our communication skills. Sara wanted to learn the language of birds, and who better than me to teach her?"

Sara nodded vigorously, her small wings glowing with a faint Electro shimmer. "Dad, it's fun. He says I can use this to talk to my bird friends."

"This is ridiculous," Wanderer said, though a part of him couldn’t help but admire the joy in Sara’s eyes and Hawks’ infectious energy.

"Ridiculous is relative, you know? Besides, you’re interrupting our father-daughter bonding time," Hawks replied with a cheeky smile. Then, he leaned toward Sara and said in a soft warble, "See how serious he always is? We need to teach him to relax."

Sara nodded again and responded with another warble, turning to look at Wanderer with a smile. "You should try it, Dad."

Wanderer sighed, running a hand over his face. It was an absurdly endearing scene, and though he wouldn’t admit it out loud, he felt an indescribable warmth watching them together. "Only you two could do something this silly this early in the morning."

Hawks winked at him as he chirped softly again, as if inviting him to join. Wanderer shook his head but couldn’t stop his lips from curving into a small smile. While the language of birds wasn’t something he thought he’d learn, for a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to enjoy the peculiarity of his little, unique family.

Chapter Text

The faint light of dawn filtered its rays through the room’s blinds. Wanderer woke slowly, his senses still caught between fragments of dreams and reality. But something was different. The mattress beneath him wasn’t a mattress at all—it was a soft, warm, and oddly comforting structure.

He frowned as his gaze explored the surroundings. Feathers. Dozens of reddish and golden feathers formed a carefully woven nest. Wanderer raised an eyebrow, the confusion on his face deepening with each passing second as he tried to process what he was seeing. There was something almost absurd yet fascinating about the construction—something only Hawks could create, both absurd and somehow endearing. Only Hawks, with his avian eccentricities, could have come up with this.

The silence was broken by the soft whisper of childlike breathing. Kujou Sara, still in her infant form, was curled up against him, her tiny body wrapped in a soft blanket. She slept deeply, her miniature face illuminated with the peace of morning. Her small wings, barely starting to develop, moved gently in sync with her dreams.

Wanderer felt an indescribable warmth as he looked at her—a feeling he rarely allowed to surface. The little one was a reflection of the brightest parts of both him and Hawks, and though he had never planned on becoming a father, Sara had become the axis connecting their lives.

A faint movement beside him caught Wanderer’s attention. Hawks was there, lying on one side of the nest, his body relaxed yet marked by visible signs of exhaustion. His blond hair was messier than usual, and his eyelids seemed heavy, as though he’d barely slept. Wanderer narrowed his eyes, suspecting that Hawks had spent more time on this than he’d admit.

“A nest?” Wanderer murmured incredulously. “Why not just a bed like normal people?”

Hawks slowly opened his eyes, meeting Wanderer’s gaze with a sleepy smile. “Good morning, Fujin. What do you think of my masterpiece?”

“Ridiculous,” Wanderer replied, though his tone betrayed the fascination he felt. There was something unsettlingly natural about the way Hawks moved within the nest, his fluid motions reminiscent of a bird in its habitat. “How... how did you learn to do this?”

Hawks sat up, letting out a yawn that sounded like a song. “Let’s just say it’s an art that comes with my wings. Sara wanted something special, so… I spent the last few nights perfecting it.”

Wanderer stared at him, wide-eyed. “You spent entire nights making this? And—wait. Are you... seriously acting like a bird?”

A mischievous smile spread across Hawks’ lips. “It’s part of the charm, don’t you think? Besides, Sara loves it when I imitate how birds communicate.”

Sara, as if responding to the statement, let out a soft sigh and snuggled closer, her tiny wings brushing against the feathers of the nest. Wanderer sighed, bringing a hand to his face. It was an absurdly endearing scene, and though he’d never admit it aloud, a part of him felt an indescribable warmth.

Wanderer couldn’t help but crack a small smile as he watched his daughter. “I’ll admit it’s... functional.” He sighed again. “Only you could take something so strange and turn it into... this.” Wanderer looked at him more closely, noticing the dedication behind the nest and Hawks’ behaviors, which seemed more instinctive than forced. A mix of incredulity and affection washed over him.

“I knew I’d win you over. Besides, there’s something special about sleeping in a nest with family.” Hawks winked before moving closer to Wanderer.

“It’s our essence, Fujin,” Hawks replied, settling behind him and resting a hand affectionately on Sara. “It bonds us, and Sara loves it. All of this is worth it.”

Wanderer looked at them both—Sara, a tiny marvel who had transformed his life, and Hawks, a free spirit who had woven a home where he hadn’t imagined one. And though he’d never admit it, he realized in that moment that the nest wasn’t just a structure; it was the symbol of a family that, against all odds, had found its place in the world.

Chapter Text

The storm raged over the rural grounds of Hawks' agency—a secluded place surrounded by hills and woods that provided peace and anonymity. Kujou Sara stood at the center of the open field, her electric wings spread wide, emanating uncontrollable energy. Her feathers crackled and sparked, igniting small flashes among the damp grass. Her breathing was uneven, a mix of frustration and exhaustion.

From the porch of the main house, Wanderer watched silently, his fists clenched. The rain battered the edges of the roof, but it couldn't extinguish the storm within him. Too much power... for a mortal daughter, he thought, the weight of guilt pressing on his chest, a dark shadow clouding his gaze. He had never intended to pass that part of himself on to her—the spark of the fragment of the Electro Archon that still lay dormant within him. But Sara had inherited it, manifesting as a power she couldn't yet control—a burden she shouldn't have to bear.

Behind him, Hawks shifted uneasily. His wings, usually relaxed, were tense, mirroring his anxiety. As he watched Sara, his mind filled with terrifying thoughts. If the Hero Commission found out... The idea was unbearable. Kujou Sara, with her extraordinary Quirk, would be seen as a weapon—a future number-one hero shaped from childhood, even at the cost of her innocence. The Commission had never hesitated to use cruel methods before, and Sara would be a perfect target.

"Why aren't you out there?" Hawks asked, his voice a mix of concern and confusion. He walked toward Wanderer, his gaze fixed on him, trying to understand his partner's lack of action. Sara continued to struggle to contain her Quirk, and every electric discharge seemed like a cry for help.

"It's not about me," Wanderer responded, though his tone was distant, almost cold. "She needs to learn on her own."

"On her own? Fujin, come on, you know that's not the way." Hawks looked at him sideways, noticing the tension in his jaw and the way he avoided looking directly at Sara. "What's wrong with you? What are you really thinking? There's something you're not telling me."

But Wanderer couldn't answer. His mind was caught in a whirlwind of guilt. Every electric discharge, every time Sara lost control, he felt the weight of his decision. Hawks might interpret it as a simple Quirk that's hard to manage, but it wasn't that. The truth was deeper, more dangerous—the latent power of the Electro Archon was alive in Sara, waiting for the moment to claim its place.

In the end, Wanderer didn't respond. His silence was a wall Hawks couldn't break through. He looked at Sara again, her small figure surrounded by sparks, and his own anxiety grew. Hawks ran out into the field before thinking too much, his red wings spreading as he launched into the air. Every electric discharge he dodged was a reminder of how powerful and dangerous Sara's ability was.

"Sara, listen!" Hawks shouted as he got close enough. His wings formed a shield around the girl, protecting her from the rain and the impact of her own energy. "Close your eyes. Breathe with me. You can do it. I'm here."

His voice, firm and steady, cut through Sara's storm. Little by little, the discharges diminished, and the electric storm transformed into small sparks dancing around her. Hawks hugged her tightly, his heart racing with a mix of fear and relief.

Wanderer watched from the porch, weighed down by conflicting emotions. Hawks looked up at him, his gaze full of concern and challenge. What are you hiding? it seemed to ask.

"You know, Fujin, you're not the only one with regrets. But the only thing she needs from us is love, not guilt," he said loudly enough for Wanderer to hear. "She needs our love, Fujin. Not our guilt." Hawks looked Wanderer directly in the eye, and with a whisper said, more to himself but still maintaining eye contact, "And you know as well as I do that we can't let the Commission get close to her. Ever."

Wanderer remained still for a moment before closing his eyes. Perhaps, for the first time, he was willing to listen. Feeling the weight of his guilt blend with determination, he was ready to protect not just his daughter, but the bond that kept them united as a family.

Chapter Text

The evening sun bathed the countryside home in a soft, warm light. It was a secluded refuge, surrounded by hills and forests—perfect for escaping the complications of the outside world. Wanderer sat in a comfortable chair by the open window, his eyes fixed on Kujou Sara. The baby was nestled against his chest, nursing peacefully, her tiny body protected by the careful hands of her ‘mother.’

Though an artificial puppet, Wanderer’s body was unique by nature. It bore the biological characteristics of both an alpha and an omega, a contrast that only added to the complexities of his existence. The strength and presence of an alpha blended with the sensitivity and protective instinct of an omega. The sensation of nursing his daughter forged a bond stronger than he had ever imagined experiencing. It made him feel the fullness of both aspects, and despite his doubts and contradictory nature, this moment was his. However, it was also a reminder of the dilemmas that came with it.

Sara’s wings, still small but full of latent energy, fluttered gently in rhythm with her breathing. Wanderer couldn’t help but watch them, as if each movement was an affirmation of the connection they shared. Although he had never planned to be a parent, this moment felt sacred—a bond transcending the circumstances of his creation.

Hawks entered the room lightly, carrying a tray with two cups of tea. Despite his relaxed posture, the subtle tension in his wings betrayed his anxiety. Kujou Sara was a small miracle, but also a source of worry. Her Quirk, combining Electro power and the wings inherited from her father, was extraordinary and difficult to manage. Hawks couldn’t help but think about what would happen if the Hero Commission discovered her existence. If they found out, they would be relentless. The thought of them taking her away to mold her into a future Number One Hero weighed heavily on his mind. He had seen them act before, shaping young individuals like himself into weapons. It was a constant burden in his thoughts.

“I brought you something to relax,” Hawks said, placing the tray on the nearby table. He leaned toward Wanderer, observing Sara with a soft smile curving his lips. “She’s so calm. It’s incredible how quickly you soothe her.”

Wanderer looked up at him, his eyes reflecting a mix of love, concern, and guilt that Hawks still couldn’t fully decipher. To Hawks, everything seemed to revolve around Sara’s Quirk and the inherent complications of managing it, but the truth was much deeper. Hawks was completely unaware of the divine fragment of the Electro Archon that Wanderer had inherited and that now resided in Sara. It was a power that did not belong to this world, and Wanderer carried the weight of that legacy.

“It’s... more than calm. There’s a connection I can’t explain, but also a burden I can’t ignore,” Wanderer said.

Hawks sat on the edge of the table, his wings spreading slightly as he looked at his partner. The conversation wasn’t new, but it seemed more urgent every time. “Are you worried she won’t be able to control her Quirk? I can teach her. You know I’d do anything for her.”

“It’s not just the Quirk,” Wanderer replied, his voice low but firm. Although he wished to speak openly, he knew that revealing the truth about the divine fragment in Sara would only complicate things. “There’s something else, something deeper than just this world’s power.” Lowering his gaze, Wanderer watched Sara, still peacefully feeding, oblivious to her parents’ concerns. He sighed and murmured to himself, “A spark of something that should never have been hers... And it’s my fault.”

Hawks observed Wanderer’s expression more closely, noticing the depth of guilt in his face. But to him, everything still revolved around the Quirk. He didn’t understand the true nature of what Wanderer was hiding. For a moment, the idea floating in his mind became more tangible: Wanderer wasn’t just afraid of Sara’s Quirk; there was something more. Still, Hawks decided not to press. They would share their worries and protect their little one together.

“Whatever it is,” Hawks finally said, placing a firm but gentle hand on Wanderer’s, “we’ll protect her. You and I. No one will touch her.”

Hawks’ words were a balm, but they couldn’t completely ease the remorse Wanderer felt. As Sara let out a faint sigh and snuggled closer to Wanderer, he decided, for now, to savor the sweet stillness of that domestic moment, knowing the shadows of his guilt and anxiety could wait.

Chapter Text

The afternoon sun filtered through the open windows of Hawks' rural agency office. The air was warm, filled with the distant sounds of birdsong. Wanderer, an omega with a stronger presence than one might expect, leaned against the window frame, gazing out at the green hills that surrounded the property. His arms were crossed, his expression calm, but his eyes reflected a latent intensity.

Hawks entered the room with his usual carefree air, his reddish wings fluttering slightly as he moved. His steps were light, almost silent, but Wanderer didn’t even turn his head. He knew he was there; he had felt it before Hawks had even crossed the door.

“What’s someone as impressive as you doing, staring so seriously out at the horizon?” Hawks asked, his tone playful as always. His golden eyes sparkled with amusement as he walked closer, stopping just a few steps away from Wanderer.

Wanderer finally turned toward him, his expression neutral, though one eyebrow arched slightly. “Working on not losing my patience with you.”

“Oh? Is it that hard to resist my charms?” Hawks grinned, taking another step forward. His wings spread slightly behind him, mirroring the confidence that radiated from his posture. “You know, Fujin, if you need help relaxing, I can be your personal guide. I’m excellent at that, you know.”

Wanderer looked at him silently for a moment, his eyes narrowing as if evaluating every word. “You’re a beta, and yet you act like you can conquer any omega that crosses your path.”

“Any omega? Nah.” Hawks tilted his head slightly, his smile shifting to something softer but equally bold. “Just the ones who catch my eye. And, as it happens, that includes someone with a gaze so intense it could break me in two if it wanted.”

The room was filled with silence, heavy with tension but far from uncomfortable. Wanderer narrowed his eyes further, though the barely perceptible curve of his lips betrayed the calm he tried to project. “You have too much confidence for a beta, Takami.”

“Confidence, charisma, and magnificent wings.” Hawks leaned a little closer, his eyes gleaming with playful challenge. “The whole package. Don’t you find it irresistible?”

Wanderer didn’t immediately respond, but a playful gleam crossed his eyes before he slightly raised his hand. The air in the room seemed to shift direction, forming a light breeze that wrapped around Hawks like an invisible embrace. His body was gently pulled closer to Wanderer, as though the wind itself sided with him.

“What are you…?” Hawks stumbled slightly, laughing as the breeze carried him until he was just inches from Wanderer. “Are you using your Quirk to mess with me?”

“It’s not messing with you,” Wanderer said, his tone dry but with a barely concealed flicker of humor. “I just thought, since you like to get so close, I’d save you the effort.”

Hawks laughed outright, his wings fluttering to regain balance while keeping his position near Wanderer. “Well, look who has a playful side after all. I have to say, I wasn’t expecting that from you, Fujin. Did you know you can be terribly charming when you try?”

Wanderer observed him for a moment, his eyes narrowing as the wind around them began to dissipate. “Terribly charming is a questionable description. And I thought I wouldn’t need to ‘try’ anything with you.”

Hawks chuckled again, leaning a little closer, his golden eyes full of playful challenge. “Maybe you don’t, but I’m enjoying the effort.”

The warm air between them was charged with a playful tension, a constant dance of flirtation and provocation. As the sounds of birds outside filled the room, they both knew this exchange was a unique rhythm between them, one neither of them wanted to end.

Chapter Text

The hustle and bustle of the city couldn’t quite reach the outskirts of the district where Hawks found himself that day. Despite being a renowned hero, simple tasks like investigating new records of unusual Quirks often fell into his hands. The Commission had flagged an individual whose behavior seemed peculiar. "Peculiar" in their jargon almost always meant interesting or problematic, but to Hawks, it was an amusing mix of both.

The person in question, nicknamed “Wanderer” by some, hadn’t given many clues about his nature. His existence in the Quirk registry was an enigma. As a beta, Hawks had always trusted his instincts to read people, yet here he was, facing someone who challenged him on every level.

Wanderer was perched on a ledge, several meters above Hawks, with the evening sunlight outlining his silhouette. His blue hair stirred gently in the breeze, a perfect contrast to his eyes, which held a restrained intensity as though observing everything and nothing at once.

“So, who are you really?” Hawks asked, his characteristic light tone edged with genuine curiosity. His wings shifted slightly, keeping him airborne as he rose to meet Wanderer’s level. “You’re hard to track, and that’s not something I say often.”

Wanderer tilted his head, his gaze calculating. “That’s because I’m not interested in being tracked. Who are you to interrupt my path?” His voice was soft, yet it carried a firmness that echoed the wind swirling around him. Hawks instinctively thought that airflow must be part of his Quirk—a power as fluid and commanding as the man himself.

Hawks allowed himself a grin. “Hawks. Maybe you’ve heard of me. Pro Hero, professional beta, and someone with a curiosity that’s hard to suppress.” He took another careful step closer, his wings beating leisurely but with enough care to avoid crossing any boundaries. “And you… you’re something different. Let me guess: alpha, with that intimidating air, but omega, with that softness behind your eyes.”

Wanderer narrowed his eyes but said nothing to deny it. The truth was far more complicated. As an artificial creation, his body bore the traits of both alpha and omega—a unique hybrid walking between worlds. He had often felt that duality as a burden, but now, looking at this hero, so perceptive and relaxed, he realized Hawks wasn’t afraid of the unknown. He wasn’t unnerved or confused; he was simply… intrigued.

“Let’s say you’re right,” Wanderer replied, his tone tinged with irony. “And what will you do with it?”

“Do?” Hawks smiled, moving close enough for their eyes to meet. His golden gaze held a spark of playful challenge. “Nothing. I just wanted to know if the wind can speak.”

Wanderer allowed a flicker of curiosity. “And if it could, what would it say?”

“That you and I could create something interesting,” Hawks replied, a gleam in his eyes, ready to let the mystery and the wind guide him.

Chapter Text

The sound of rain tapping against the windows filled the countryside home with a soft, soothing rhythm. The afternoon brought a humid air, and Hawks lay sprawled on the living room sofa, his wings disheveled, nose stuffed, and a feverish sheen on his skin. His breathing was heavy, a clear sign that the fever wasn’t planning to relent anytime soon. Despite his attempts to remain nonchalant, it was evident the hero was out of commission.

Wanderer, with the stoic calm that always defined him, moved about the room. He carried a bowl of warm water and a cloth in his hands, approaching the sofa with his usual natural grace. Despite being an omega, there was something about him that radiated an ethereal strength, as if he were beyond the reach of common mortal frailties.

“Stay still,” he ordered, his voice soft yet firm. Kneeling beside the sofa, he began to dab the cool cloth across Hawks’ forehead. “I’m not dealing with a whiny hero on top of a sick one.”

Hawks let out a weak laugh, though it quickly turned into a low cough. “You know? It’s not fair. Here I am, a Beta with a decent immune system, and yet I’m laid out like a wounded pup. And you? Not even a sneeze.”

Wanderer arched an eyebrow, not pausing his movements. “I’m not as weak as you. My body is simply... different.”

“Different, huh,” murmured Hawks, squinting at him with a mix of curiosity and feverish confusion. “You never get sick? Not once. It’s strange... almost inhuman.”

Wanderer didn’t respond, his hands moving with precision as he tended to Hawks. There was no way to explain that his resilience didn’t stem from a common Quirk but from his nature as a created puppet. Yet, he couldn’t deny that Hawks’ golden gaze, even while sick, seemed to pierce through every one of his layers.

“That’s just the fever talking. Stop thinking about things that kill the few brain cells you have left,” he finally said with a sigh. His tone softened. “Just rest.”

But Hawks was persistent, even in that state. “It’s almost frustrating how perfect you look right now. As if illnesses don’t exist in your world.”

Wanderer sighed, then made a decision. If Hawks wasn’t going to relax and drop the subject willingly, he’d do it the hard way. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting his Omega pheromones flow into the air. It was a subtle gesture, almost imperceptible, but enough to envelop Hawks in a sense of calm and comfort.

The effect was immediate. Hawks let out a deep sigh, his tense muscles beginning to relax. A wave of tranquility washed over him, and for a moment, his feverish thoughts quieted. But just before giving in, a lazy smile appeared on his lips.

“You’re playing dirty, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice drowsy. “Think I don’t notice?”

“Of course, you’re imagining it,” Wanderer replied, placing the cloth on his forehead with a delicacy that contradicted the sarcasm in his words. “Now close your eyes. I don’t have time for a stubborn chicken.”

And though Hawks knew something else was at play, the warmth of the pheromones and Wanderer’s care lulled him into sleep. As the sound of rain continued to fill the room, Wanderer remained by his side, his face expressionless, but his actions laden with silent affection.

Chapter Text

The afternoon sun bathed the city of Musutafu as Hawks flipped through a book titled “The Ultimate Guide to Winning Hearts”. He had never been the type to follow instructions so literally, but Wanderer complicated things in ways he hadn’t expected. Mysterious, reserved, and with an almost infuriating calm, Wanderer seemed immune to Hawks’ natural charm. That’s why the hero had decided to take a more... structured approach.

First strategy: flowers.

Hawks appeared before Wanderer with a huge bouquet of lilies and roses, his wings open with a glow of confidence.

“These are for you,” he said, with his signature smile.

Wanderer accepted the bouquet, observing the flowers with a slight tilt of his head. “I don’t have a home where I can keep them. They’ll wilt soon.”

Hawks felt his confidence falter for a moment, but before he could say anything, Wanderer adjusted the bouquet in his arms and carried it with him. As they walked through the city that day, Wanderer kept the flowers with him, holding them with an unexpected calm that threw Hawks off. While no additional words were spoken about the bouquet, Hawks could see that Wanderer ensured they were protected from the wind and sun.

At the end of the day, just before they parted ways, Wanderer stopped in a quiet park. With precise movements, he began to replant the flowers, carefully placing them into the nearby soil. Hawks watched silently, unsure of how to interpret the gesture.

“I don’t believe in gestures without purpose,” Wanderer finally said, without looking back. “If someone gives me something, I prefer it to last more than a day.”

Hawks let out a small smile. (Well, this was unexpected.)

Second strategy: chocolates.

The next time, Hawks presented Wanderer with a heart-shaped box filled with fine chocolates. He expected a different reaction, maybe one that was more enthusiastic.

“Thank you,” Wanderer said, opening the box and trying one of the chocolates. Although he didn’t need to eat, he decided to consume one to avoid making Hawks feel bad... and to keep his artificial nature hidden.

Hawks watched him intently. “Are they good?” he asked, hoping for at least some praise.

“Sweet. Very sweet,” Wanderer replied, with the same neutrality as always. Hawks felt as though an invisible brick had hit him over the head.

Third strategy: a romantic movie.

By the third week, Hawks bought tickets for a popular romantic movie. According to the book, the atmosphere would be perfect.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

Wanderer and Hawks sat silently as the plot unfolded awkwardly on the screen. Neither the storyline nor the characters seemed interesting to them. To make matters worse, the couples around them, kissing during every romantic scene, added a palpable sense of discomfort.

Hawks glanced at Wanderer from the corner of his eye. (Should I...?) His mind raced. The guide suggested that this was the perfect moment for a kiss, but he wasn’t sure if that’s what Wanderer wanted. For his part, Wanderer stared at the screen with apparent indifference. When the movie ended, they left in silence, sharing a mutual yet unspoken agreement to never repeat the experience.

------------------+

Frustrated, Hawks decided he needed some fresh air. He spread his wings and prepared to take off. “Coming with me? Flying might help us clear our heads.”

Wanderer looked at him with a hint of curiosity before nodding. Soon, both were soaring through the sky, leaving the city’s hustle and bustle behind. The wind tousled their hair, and the sensation of freedom enveloped them.

“You know,” Hawks said suddenly, turning his head to look at him. “I don’t need those cliché things with you. I think we already have something special.”

Wanderer raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Hawks continued, his tone more confident. “This. Flying with you. Talking about the wind and nothing else. These are our dates. I don’t need to follow a standard.”

A subtle glimmer crossed Wanderer’s eyes. “Interesting that you finally realized.”

Hawks laughed, feeling relief wash away his insecurities. “And don’t worry about the rules. If anyone complains about your ‘Quirk,’ I’ll talk to the Commission. You’ve got free rein as long as you’re with me.”

Wanderer responded with a slight nod and, for the first time, a small, almost imperceptible smile. Hawks knew then that he had found the right way to court him—no rules, no standards, just the two of them, the sky and wind.

Chapter Text

Hawks' agency was always bustling with movement. Heroes, assistants, and interns came and went, handling documents, reports, and strategies, all adapting to the fast-paced rhythm of the number three hero. Fumikage Tokoyami, on his first day of internship, remained calm and professional, observing every detail as if it were part of an intricate puzzle.

However, something was off. At least, something that didn’t match the image he had built of Hawks.

It was the third time he had seen the mysterious young man with blue hair around the agency. He wasn’t part of the staff, wore no insignia, and didn’t seem like a hero-in-training. Yet, he moved through the office with an unsettling ease, with the confidence of someone who belonged there without needing to prove it.

Tokoyami glanced at him from the corner of his eye while handing a report to Hawks. The figure stood leaning against the window frame, seemingly indifferent to everything happening around him. But there was something about his presence—an unreadable calm, an air of mystery that didn’t fit with the lively energy of the rest of the agency.

Eventually, curiosity won.

“Hawks,” Tokoyami said in his serious tone, allowing himself the rare chance to ask, “that young man who appears every now and then… is he part of the team?”

Hawks, still reviewing documents, glanced up with a slight smirk. “Wanderer?” he asked, his tone casual, as if the name held no particular importance.

“Yes. He doesn’t seem to be a hero or support staff,” Tokoyami continued. His instincts told him there was more to the relationship between Hawks and that strange young man.

Hawks leaned back in his chair, narrowing his eyes as if weighing how much to say. “He’s here because he wants to be here. And because I want him to be here.”

That answer didn’t resolve anything, but it made one thing clear—Wanderer wasn’t just an ordinary visitor.

The number three hero rose from his seat, setting the papers aside and looking at Tokoyami with an amused grin. “Don’t worry about him too much. If I had to describe him, I’d say he’s... special.”

The choice of words only piqued Tokoyami’s curiosity further. But before he could ask more, Hawks was already crossing the room, walking with a casual confidence toward Wanderer, who showed no surprise at his approach. Tokoyami didn’t miss how, for the first time, both of them seemed relaxed—almost in sync.

Wanderer barely moved as Hawks leaned slightly toward him, whispering something Tokoyami couldn’t hear. The only thing visible was the faint smile Wanderer gave Hawks—one of those expressions reserved for private moments.

Then he knew.

Hawks and Wanderer were together.

The realization came quickly, but Tokoyami said nothing. It wasn’t his business, and he understood why Hawks hadn’t made his relationship public. In the world of heroes, anything could be turned into a weapon. Revealing such a strong personal bond could be dangerous.

Still, he couldn’t help but observe more closely. Hawks, the charismatic and carefree number three, and Wanderer, the enigmatic figure who defied conventional definitions. It all fit—pieces of a mystery that now made sense.

When Hawks finally stepped away from Wanderer, he cast a brief glance at Tokoyami, as if he knew exactly what had been deduced. “If you ever have questions about combat strategy, ask whatever you want,” Hawks said lightly. “About other things… just learn to observe.”

Tokoyami understood the message.

From that day forward, although curiosity lingered, he decided there were secrets in Hawks’ agency that weren’t his to unravel.

And Wanderer, the blue-haired enigma who moved as effortlessly as the wind, would remain a presence in the shadows.

Chapter Text

Hawks' office was quieter than usual. The number three hero was flipping through a report while Wanderer sat on the windowsill, gazing at the sky with his typical neutral expression. Although he wouldn’t admit it aloud, Hawks found that calmness intriguing—almost comforting. It was one of the reasons why Wanderer had become a constant presence in his life.

However, that day the calm was shattered by an unexpected phone call. Hawks answered, listening closely as the voice on the other end shared information that left him frozen for a moment.

“What?” he asked, his tone sharper than usual. “Are you sure?”

Wanderer turned his head toward him, raising an eyebrow. Though he didn’t say anything, his gaze conveyed a silent question.

Hawks hung up the call, his mind racing. He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it even more. “This is... unexpected.”

“What happened?” Wanderer asked, his tone calm but tinged with curiosity.

Hawks looked at him, trying to find the right words. “The doctor... said you might be pregnant.”

The silence that followed was as heavy as the air before a storm. Wanderer blinked, processing the information. “That’s not possible.”

“Well, that’s what I thought too,” Hawks said, letting out a nervous laugh. “But the tests say otherwise. Maybe we should... double-check.”

Wanderer sighed, crossing his arms. “I don’t need to double-check anything. I know it’s not true.”

Despite the firmness in his voice, Hawks couldn’t shake his worry. Not because he doubted Wanderer, but because the idea of such a major medical error was unsettling. “Look, I’m not saying I don’t believe you, but... what if there’s something else? Something we don’t know.”

Wanderer stared at him silently for a moment before nodding. “If it will put your mind at ease, we can go.”

--------------+

Hours later, the two were at a clinic, waiting for the results of another test. Hawks tried to fill the silence with light comments, but Wanderer remained impassive, as if the whole matter was a minor inconvenience.

Finally, the doctor returned, his expression apologetic. “It seems there was an error in the initial tests. There’s no pregnancy.”

Hawks let out a sigh of relief, though he also felt a twinge of guilt for doubting—however briefly. “Thank you, doctor.”

On the way home, Hawks glanced at Wanderer, who seemed as calm as ever. “I’m sorry,” he said at last. “For putting you through this.”

“There’s no need to apologize,” Wanderer replied softly. “I understand why you reacted the way you did.”

Hawks smiled, though his expression carried a hint of melancholy. “You know, for a second I thought... what if it were true? I don’t know if I’d be ready for something like that, but... I wouldn’t have minded.”

Wanderer looked at him, his eyes showing a flicker of something Hawks couldn’t quite identify. “You don’t need to follow a standard, Takami. Whatever we face, we’ll handle it our own way.”

Hawks chuckled lightly, feeling the tension fade away. “You always have a way of simplifying things, don’t you?”

“Because there’s no need to complicate them,” Wanderer replied, his gaze returning to the sky.

As they flew together that night, Hawks realized that misunderstandings and surprises didn’t matter. What truly mattered was that somehow, they always found balance in the midst of chaos.

Chapter Text

The Musutafu shopping mall was a bustling and lively place, with families strolling around and brightly lit stores offering all kinds of products. Hawks walked through the aisles with palpable energy, his wings shifting lightly as a radiant smile lit up his face. Beside him, Best Jeanist maintained his usual elegant and composed posture, though he couldn’t help but let a faint smile escape whenever Hawks excitedly pointed out a baby clothing display.

“Jeanist, can you believe it? My little Kujou Sara is arriving soon. My daughter,” Hawks exclaimed, his voice filled with emotion as he turned to his friend. “I want her to have the best of everything. Comfortable clothes, pretty outfits, and maybe... something that says she’s got the best dad in the world.”

Best Jeanist tilted his head slightly, his eyes glinting with a rare, subtle humor. “Knowing you, Takami, you’ll probably want something that highlights your wings.”

“Exactly! You know how I think,” Hawks replied, laughing as he stopped in front of a store specializing in baby clothes. The display window was filled with adorable pastel-colored outfits, tiny pajamas with star and animal designs. But what truly caught his attention was a section themed around the Top 10 heroes.

“Jeanist, look at this. It’s absolutely perfect,” Hawks said as he rushed into the store without even waiting for a response.

--+

Inside, Hawks eagerly browsed the tiny hero-themed outfits. There were shirts and onesies adorned with the emblems of the Top 10 heroes, from Endeavor to Ryukyu. His smile widened even more when he stumbled upon designs featuring his own emblem: golden wings against a red background.

“Here they are! Hawks clothing!” he exclaimed, holding up a onesie with his insignia. The fabric was soft, with embroidered wings spreading across the sides. Hawks turned to Jeanist, who watched with a mix of curiosity and discreet pride.

“What surprises me is that you have your own section, Takami,” Jeanist remarked, picking up a small hat that bore his own logo and signature style, detailed in blue and silver. “Although I must admit, this has a good design.”

Hawks leaned toward him, a playful look in his eyes. “See? Our styles stand out! I’m wondering if I should pair a Hawks onesie with a Jeanist hat. What do you think?”

Best Jeanist let out a faint laugh—something rare but comforting. “I doubt Wanderer will let you turn your daughter into a little hero fashion icon.”

The comment made Hawks pause for a moment, leaving the onesie in the shopping cart. “You know, Jeanist, Wanderer has been amazing throughout this whole thing. He’s strong, but I know he wants everything to be perfect for Kujou. That... that’s what I want too.”

Jeanist nodded, acknowledging the sincerity behind his friend’s words. “Takami, if anything reflects your dedication, it’s this. Being here, carefully choosing every detail, shows what truly matters to you.”

Hawks remained silent for a moment before letting out a soft laugh. “And that includes this little onesie with my wings. Because, let’s admit it, my daughter is going to be the coolest baby in Musutafu!”

--+

After browsing the entire store and filling their cart with options for Sara, the two stepped back into the main aisle, ready to continue exploring. Hawks couldn’t stop talking about his plans for the future, from park outings to the possibility of teaching her how to fly.

As they walked, Best Jeanist observed him with a mix of admiration and genuine happiness. Knowing Takami, he understood that, although he enjoyed the small moments, he was deeply committed to the well-being of his daughter and Wanderer.

“I have to admit, Takami, that while you sometimes seem overly excited, there’s something genuine about the way you handle all of this,” Jeanist finally said. “Sara will be lucky to have you as her father.”

Hawks looked at his friend, his smile softening for a moment. “Jeanist, I wouldn’t be the hero I am or the man I want to be without good friends like you. Now, let’s head to the next store. Maybe we’ll find a miniature cape that fits her!”

Best Jeanist let out a sigh but followed him with steady steps, knowing the upcoming months would be filled with moments like this: small yet unforgettable.

Chapter Text

The sun was shining brightly over Musutafu, casting a warm glow over the neighborhood park. Laughter and squeals from children filled the air, blending with the rustling of leaves and the faint hum of distant traffic. It was the perfect setting for an ordinary family outing—exactly what Hawks had been hoping for.

Dressed in casual clothing—a plain white T-shirt, dark jeans, and a baseball cap pulled low over his blond hair—Hawks blended into the crowd. Without his signature hero uniform or wings on full display, Keigo Takami, the Pro Hero Hawks, looked just like any other dad spending a day with his family. And that was exactly the point.

Walking beside him was Wanderer, his calm and composed demeanor contrasting with the lively atmosphere of the park. Despite his usual stoic exterior, there was a faint softness in his gaze as he watched Kujou Sara dart ahead, her tiny wings fluttering in excitement as she ran toward the playground.

“Don’t go too far, Sara!” Hawks called out, his voice warm but firm.

“I won’t!” she shouted back, her voice filled with the pure joy only a six-year-old could muster. Her small body radiated energy as she climbed up a ladder toward the slide, her laughter ringing out like a melody.

Hawks turned to Wanderer, a wide grin spreading across his face. “She’s got your focus, you know. Look at her, conquering that slide like it’s her mission.”

Wanderer raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “She’s also got your habit of ignoring instructions. You told her to wait before running off.”

Hawks chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Can’t argue with that. Guess she gets the best—and most stubborn—parts of both of us.”

They found a bench nearby, shaded by a large tree. Hawks leaned back, adjusting his cap to shield his eyes from the sun, while Wanderer sat with his usual straight-backed posture. From their spot, they had a clear view of Sara exploring every corner of the playground, her blue hair glinting in the sunlight.

“She’s growing up so fast,” Hawks said, his tone softer now. “Feels like just yesterday we were picking out baby clothes, and now she’s out there making friends and climbing jungle gyms like a pro.”

“She’s strong,” Wanderer replied, his gaze steady on their daughter. “She’ll be ready for whatever this world throws at her.”

Hawks nodded, a hint of pride lighting up his expression. “Yeah, but I still want her to have moments like this. Just being a kid, you know? No pressure, no danger. Just... happiness.”

As they watched, a small group of children gathered around Sara, excitedly pointing at her wings. One boy reached out to touch them, and Hawks instinctively tensed, ready to step in if needed. But Sara handled it effortlessly, flapping her wings gently and laughing as the other kids cheered in amazement.

“She’s a natural,” Hawks murmured, his heart swelling. “Takes after her dad.”

Wanderer glanced at him, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Which one?”

Hawks laughed, nudging Wanderer playfully with his elbow. “Fair point. Guess she got lucky with both of us.”

After a while, Sara ran back to them, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling. “Papa! Daddy! Did you see me? I went down the slide backwards, and everyone said my wings are super cool!”

“We saw,” Wanderer said, reaching out to fix her slightly crooked hairpin. “You did well.”

“Super cool, huh?” Hawks added, scooping her up into his arms and spinning her around, her giggles filling the air. “That’s my girl!”

Sara squealed in delight, wrapping her tiny arms around Hawks’ neck. “Can we stay longer, please? I wanna try the swings next!”

“As long as you promise to eat all your veggies tonight,” Hawks teased, setting her down gently.

“I promise!” she declared, already running back toward the swings.

Hawks leaned back on the bench, a contented sigh escaping him. “Days like this... they’re worth everything.”

Wanderer said nothing, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes. In the quiet company of his family, even he found a sense of peace that words couldn’t capture.

As the afternoon stretched on and the shadows grew longer, the little family stayed at the park, savoring the simple joy of being together. For Hawks, Wanderer, and Kujou Sara, it was a reminder that sometimes, the best moments weren’t found in grand gestures or heroic battles, but in the laughter of a child and the love of a family.

Chapter Text

The doctor’s office was completely silent. Wanderer stared at the results of the medical exam in his hands, his neutral expression masking the whirlwind of thoughts storming through his mind. Although he wasn’t someone easily swayed by emotions, this... this was different.

Back at the apartment, Hawks was lounging casually on the couch, flipping through a magazine while his wings stretched lazily. The sound of the door opening caught his attention, and he glanced up with a playful grin.

“Hey, Fujin, how was your day? Did you get scolded for intimidating the doctor again?” he teased, looking up only to see Wanderer standing there, holding the test results.

“Keigo,” Wanderer began, his tone softer than usual. Just hearing his name spoken like that made Hawks sit up straight, dropping the magazine to the floor.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” he asked, concern evident in his voice.

“I’m...” Wanderer exhaled, and for the first time in a long while, his gaze wavered. “I’m pregnant.”

The silence that followed was so profound that Hawks swore he could hear a hummingbird’s wings fluttering in the distance. He processed the words slowly, as if they were pieces of an intricate puzzle. Then, he jumped to his feet.

“I’m the father, right? Because if I’m not...” he began, though the smile playing on his lips betrayed the seriousness of his words.

“Yes, Keigo. You’re the father.” Wanderer watched him, waiting for some reaction that would reveal how to navigate this new reality.

But Hawks was already lost in his own thoughts, pacing back and forth as his wings twitched. “Wait, wait. So, will this be a... normal pregnancy? I mean, like a mammal’s? Or maybe... oviparous? Because, you know, my Quirk and all that. Imagine if we had to take care of an egg. It could be like incubating, but with heating lamps and...”

“Keigo,” Wanderer interrupted, his tone dry yet tinged with amusement.

Hawks stopped, his golden eyes meeting Wanderer’s. Then, he stepped closer and gently took Wanderer’s hands in his own. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, we’ll face it together. I’ll be the best bird dad there ever was.”

A small smile curved Wanderer’s lips. “I hope so.”

Chapter Text

The news broke like wildfire. Paparazzi had caught a blurry yet damning shot of Pro Hero Hawks walking hand in hand with an unfamiliar individual on what looked like a casual stroll in the park. In most contexts, it would have been just another piece of harmless celebrity gossip. But this time, it wasn’t Hawks’ involvement in a relationship that drew attention—it was the appearance of his companion.

Every article, tweet, and headline had the same underlying theme: Is Hawks dating a minor?

In his agency’s office, Hawks was glued to his phone, scrolling through the chaos that unfolded online. Comments ranged from genuine concern to outright outrage. "Does he think being a hero makes this okay?" "He’s throwing his career away." "What’s next? Hawks adopts a kid and marries him?" And even the slightly absurd: "What’s next? Hawks opens a daycare for dates?”

“Unbelievable,” Hawks muttered, dropping his phone onto the desk. He ruffled his blond hair in frustration, his wings twitching in irritation. “They’re acting like Fujin’s some runaway teen or something. He’s... what, twenty? Twenty-something? He just has that babyface thing going on, thanks to his stupidly good genes.”

Wanderer, who had been sitting by the window with his usual serene expression, raised an eyebrow. “I told you this would happen eventually. You should’ve expected it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hawks grumbled, standing up and pacing the room. “But it’s still annoying. Like, does good skin care equal ‘secret teenager’ now? What am I supposed to say to these people?”

Wanderer tilted his head slightly, his ever-youthful features as composed as always. “You don’t owe them an explanation. Their assumptions are their own.”

“Maybe,” Hawks replied, his golden eyes scanning Wanderer’s face. “But it’s not just about me. If this keeps going, they’re going to start digging into you. And I don’t want them making your life a living hell just because we’re together.”

Wanderer stood, crossing the room to stand in front of him. “Keigo,” he said firmly, placing a hand on Hawks’ shoulder. “Let them think what they want. You know the truth. I know the truth. That should be enough.”

Hawks looked into Wanderer’s eyes, his frustration softening into something more vulnerable. “I know, but... I just don’t want to mess this up.”

“You won’t,” Wanderer said simply. Then, after a pause, a rare smile graced his lips. “Besides, if they think I’m younger, it just means I’ve fooled them all. A perfect victory for me.”

That pulled a laugh out of Hawks, and he finally relaxed. “Yeah, I guess we both know you’re way out of their league anyway.”

---+

The public frenzy continued for several days, with speculation and rumors piling up at an alarming rate. People demanded answers, and Hawks’ reputation was teetering on the brink of scandal. That was when the Hero Public Safety Commission stepped in.

In an official statement, they addressed the situation head-on: "Regarding the recent rumors about Pro Hero Hawks’ personal life, we would like to clarify that his companion is an adult, aged 21. Their youthful appearance is due to their meticulous use of high-quality skin care products from well-known luxury brands. Out of respect for their privacy, further details will remain undisclosed.”

The statement, supported by fabricated comments supposedly from Hawks’ mysterious partner, helped calm the storm. Public opinion shifted, with many dismissing the rumors as overblown.

Behind the scenes, Hawks and Wanderer quietly thanked the HPSC for their intervention, neither of them willing to offer any real explanation. After all, the truth was theirs to keep—and the rest of the world could believe whatever it wanted.

Chapter Text

Night had fallen, and in the small bathroom of their apartment, Wanderer held a tiny toothbrush in one hand and his own in the other. Sitting on a small stool in front of him was Kujou Sara, her cheeks puffed in a stubborn pout, arms crossed tightly.

“I don’t wanna,” she declared, shaking her head. “It tastes weird.”

Wanderer observed her with patience, showing no frustration or urgency. “If you don’t do it, your teeth will get dirty, and when you grow up, you won’t have a pretty smile.”

Sara frowned. “What if I just rinse them with water?”

“That’s not enough,” Wanderer replied, lifting his toothbrush and moving it in slow, small circles, as if drawing in the air. “Look, do it like this.”

Sara watched, her little eyes analyzing his movements. Then, hesitantly, she picked up her own toothbrush, still unsure.

“Hawks brushes his teeth like this too,” Wanderer added, using the mention of her other parent as motivation.

“Really?”

Wanderer nodded, and Sara seemed to ponder this for a moment. Then, with renewed determination, she lifted her toothbrush and began mimicking his motions—though at first, she exaggerated them, covering her face in foam.

Wanderer let out a small smile. “Softer. And don’t forget your molars.”

Sara made a face but obeyed, moving the brush more carefully. As she continued, her concentration grew, and by the time she finished, she stared at her reflection in the mirror with satisfaction.

“I did it right!” she announced, excited.

Wanderer handed her a cup of water to rinse her mouth. “And tomorrow, you’ll do even better.”

Sara took a sip, swished the water in her mouth, and spit it out enthusiastically. “I can do it all by myself!”

Wanderer nodded, placing the toothbrush back in its holder. “Yes. But remember to do it every time.”

Sara grinned, proudly showing off her freshly cleaned teeth. “Just like Hawks!”

Wanderer sighed in quiet resignation. (If Hawks was her point of reference for everything, at least it was useful for this).

Chapter Text

Kujou Sara ran around the living room with a red fabric cape, pretending to soar through the air like her favorite hero. Wanderer watched from the couch, not intervening as his daughter jumped across furniture with excitement, mimicking Hawks’ aerial maneuvers from TV.

And right at that moment, the protagonist of her imagination knocked on the door.

Sara froze. Her tiny wings fluttered with excitement, and her eyes widened as if the very sun had stepped into the house.

“It’s him!” she exclaimed, sprinting toward the door before Wanderer could even stand up. With some effort, she pulled the handle open and found herself face to face with Hawks, dressed casually but still wearing his signature confident smile.

“Secret Dad!” Sara yelled, wrapping her arms around his legs.

Hawks laughed, ruffling the little girl’s hair affectionately. “Is that my new title now? Secret Dad?”

Sara nodded eagerly. “Nobody in the world knows that you’re my dad! But I do. And it’s the best secret ever.”

Wanderer leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms with a neutral expression. “If she keeps calling you that, it’ll become a problem.”

Hawks stepped inside, his grin unwavering. “Nah, I like it. Makes it sound exciting.”

Sara bounced in place before dashing off toward her room. “Wait here! I have to show you something.”

As she disappeared, Hawks turned to Wanderer. “She’s been watching a lot of my videos lately, huh?”

“Only enough to memorize every single move you make,” Wanderer replied flatly.

Hawks sighed with a smile. “It’s not bad being her hero, but... someday, I want her to see me as her dad too.”

Before Wanderer could respond, Sara returned with a drawing in hand. The paper featured a clumsy but adorable version of Hawks, with enormous wings and a heart beside him.

“Look! I made this today. He’s my favorite hero.”

Hawks took the drawing carefully. In the corner, written in childish handwriting, were the words: For Secret Dad.

And in that moment, Hawks knew that—even if he wasn’t the conventional father—in Kujou Sara’s heart, he would always be something special.

Chapter Text

Kujou Sara arrived at kindergarten with her usual enthusiasm, her small wings fluttering excitedly as she ran to meet her classmates. She was an active, curious, and energetic child, always ready to tell stories about her favorite hero.

Hawks.

The number three hero in the rankings, the lightning-fast savior with golden wings, the protector of Musutafu. But to Sara, beyond all of that, he was her secret dad.

She saw him almost every week, when he visited in casual clothes, when he brought her sweets hidden in his jacket, when he lifted her in his arms and spun her around as if she were truly flying.

But there was a problem. No one else knew he was her dad.

And today, that problem got bigger.

Sitting at a table with her friends, she listened as one of them excitedly talked about their father.

"My dad took me to see Edgeshot on patrol. I got to see him catch a villain!"

Another child joined the excitement. "Mine bought me an Endeavor toy, because he says Endeavor is the number one hero!"

Their words sparked something inside Sara—a rush of excitement and contained pride. She had a cool dad too. The coolest.

But he was a secret.

As she listened to the stories, an internal debate started to trouble her. She couldn't say it. Hawks and Wanderer had made it very clear that no one should know. That being the daughter of such a famous hero meant keeping quiet—for her safety, for their family's peace.

But if everyone else talked about their dads, why couldn't she? It wasn’t fair.

Emotion won over secrecy.

"Well, my dad is Hawks," she blurted out with a smile, feeling proud to say it aloud.

The children stared at her, then laughed.

"That's not true! How could Hawks be your dad?" one of them said, laughing.

"If Hawks had kids, it would be in the news," another commented.

Sara felt a pang in her chest. This was wrong. She knew it. She shouldn’t have said it.

But now it was too late.

The others kept teasing, making comments like "You can't lie like that, it's impossible," and "Does your dad fly then?"

"Just because you have wings like him doesn’t mean he’s your dad."

Sara’s chest tightened. "But it’s true..." she insisted, though her voice was softer.

The excitement of talking about her amazing dad faded. Now, all that remained was confusion.

That day, she went home quieter than usual.

-------+

Wanderer noticed immediately. Though he still struggled to understand human emotions and how to deal with them, he knew something was different about his daughter.

He watched her from the kitchen table as she played without her usual energy.

"You didn’t jump off a piece of furniture today," he commented, his tone flat but his intention clear.

Sara sighed. "I don’t want to."

Wanderer observed her. Logic dictated that he should ask. But at the same time, he didn’t want to push her. Was that the right thing to do? Or should he insist?

He didn’t know.

But what he did know was that Hawks would be arriving soon.

------------------+

When Hawks arrived that night, Sara’s usual smile didn’t appear right away. Hawks noticed her expression and, with a light gesture, knelt in front of her.

"Hey, what’s wrong, kid?"

Sara looked at him, and for the first time, she didn’t see the hero—she saw the man who visited her house every week.

"At kindergarten, I said you were my dad," she murmured.

The air seemed to tense. Hawks narrowed his eyes, and Wanderer, who was watching from the doorway, felt a slight discomfort inside him that he couldn’t quite describe.

"And what did they say?" Hawks asked, his tone careful.

Sara lowered her gaze. "That it wasn’t true. That if you were my dad, everyone would know. That famous heroes don’t have secret kids."

Hawks felt something tighten in his chest. Sara’s insecurity was something he hadn’t anticipated.

This wasn’t just a game to her. It was her identity.

"Well... I guess that’s true," he finally replied, trying to keep his tone light. "That’s why I’m the secret dad, remember?"

But this time, the title didn’t make her smile.

Sara pressed her lips together. "I don’t want you to be a secret."

Wanderer tensed. He didn’t understand what he should do. Was this the moment he should intervene? Should he let Hawks handle it? Was it better to say something or stay silent?

Following the recommendations from the parenting guides he had been studying, he sat beside her in the living room.

"Why did you say Hawks was your father?" he asked in his neutral tone, watching her carefully.

Sara pressed her lips together, not answering right away. She didn’t want to say it. But when she saw her father’s calm expression, she knew he wasn’t scolding her. He just wanted to understand.

She took a deep breath. "Everyone was talking about their dads. Bragging about them. I wanted to talk about mine too."

Wanderer processed her response. The logic was clear. Sara hadn’t wanted to break the secret—she had just wanted to belong.

"Did it bother you that you couldn’t say it before?" he asked, evaluating whether to push further.

Sara thought about it. "…Yeah."

Wanderer tilted his head slightly. Was this the moment to correct her? Or just to ensure she understood the reason behind the secrecy?

"You can’t talk about him like he’s just any hero," he finally said, choosing his words carefully. "There are reasons for the secret."

Sara lowered her gaze. "I know…" she murmured, her voice small.

Wanderer didn’t answer immediately. He watched her small wings tremble slightly and felt a mild discomfort inside him. Had he handled this right? Or had he failed to fully understand her?

Only time would tell.

As he debated, Hawks exhaled and sat on the floor, lowering his cap for a moment. "Kid, there’s a reason for this. It’s not because I don’t want everyone to know... it’s because I want you to be safe."

"Safe from what?" Sara asked, frowning.

"From people bothering you, from anyone interfering in your life just because you’re my daughter. I don’t want the HPSC asking weird questions or people seeing you as something other than yourself."

Sara blinked, not fully understanding, but aware enough to know that Hawks wasn’t planning to change the situation.

What he wanted was for her to understand.

Not necessarily accept.

Sara lowered her gaze, murmuring a small "Okay...".

But Hawks could tell that  it wasn’t okay.

------+

Later, when Sara finally fell asleep, Wanderer stood in the kitchen with Hawks, who was turning his cup of tea in his hands thoughtfully.

"I don’t know if I gave her the right answer," Hawks admitted.

After a few seconds, Wanderer replied. "There is no right answer. Only what you think will work."

Hawks looked at him. "What does that mean?"

Wanderer crossed his arms. "That I don’t know if what I do is right or wrong. I just want her to grow up like a normal human."

Hawks met his gaze. Was that what Wanderer thought of parenting? Just as a simple human development to monitor?

He wasn’t sure whether to argue or let it go.

"Well," Hawks finally sighed. "I’m not the best example of a normal dad, so I guess we’re both still learning."

Wanderer nodded.

A silent agreement.

Sara would keep calling him secret dad.

And while Hawks knew it was for the best, he couldn’t ignore the pang in his chest as he remembered her words.

"I don’t want you to be a secret."

Chapter Text

Hawks had never been an expert in the kitchen. He could slice a chicken with surgical precision, sure, but when it came to flour, sugar, and mixers, the battlefield became much more complicated than expected.

Still, he was determined.

Today was the day. Not the exact date of Wanderer’s creation—there were no records of that—but the day his memories returned. The day he said he was reborn as a person.

Hawks understood that feeling more than he liked to admit.

So, against all logic and his obvious limitations, he had decided to bake him a cake.

-------+

The kitchen was dusted with flour, and Hawks proudly observed the freshly baked sponge cake, intact and mercifully 'not' burnt. A miracle.

He carefully spread the chocolate frosting, murmuring to himself. “I think this looks okay… Yeah, pretty decent.”

As he focused on decorating, the soft sound of steady breathing caught his attention.

On the couch, wrapped in soft blankets, Wanderer slept peacefully, his posture relaxed, his hair perfectly in place—as if even sleep couldn’t ruffle him. Next to him, cradled in his arms, tiny Kujou Sara also slept, curled against him with an angelic expression.

Hawks smiled, warmth spreading through his chest.

His family.

Sometimes, it was hard to believe he could call them that. But there they were, existing alongside him in the quiet rhythm of small moments.

He stepped closer, watching the steady rise and fall of Wanderer’s chest.

Just then, Sara stirred, her eyelashes fluttering before her sleepy eyes opened.

The first thing she saw was the cake.

Her eyes lit up.

“Sweet?” she murmured in her tiny voice, still groggy.

Hawks chuckled softly. “Yep, but it’s for Papa Wanderer.”

Sara blinked, her little mind slowly processing the information. Then, she stretched out a hand with determination, trying to grab the cake.

Hawks reacted quickly, lifting it slightly out of her reach. “Oh, no, little one, first comes the candle, then comes the celebration.”

Sara puffed her cheeks, frustrated but not quite ready to fight over it. Instead, she turned toward Wanderer, still asleep, and mumbled, “Papa, wake up. There’s sweet.”

Wanderer barely moved, but Hawks caught the faint twitch of his lips. He was awake.

Slowly, Wanderer opened his eyes, his gaze settling first on Hawks, then on the cake.

“You tried to bake,” he said, his voice still low from sleep.

Hawks grinned, satisfied that he understood immediately. “Of course I did. Today’s your day, isn’t it?”

Wanderer studied the cake for a moment, his expression unreadable at first, then exhaled slowly, as if absorbing the meaning behind the gesture.

Hawks handed him a knife. “Before Sara makes a mess, do you want to try it first?”

Wanderer glanced at his daughter, still eager for the cake, then back at Hawks.

“Only if the first slice goes to her,” he said, his expression impossible to decipher.

Hawks laughed softly.

He knew he’d say that.

Chapter Text

Hawks had never been one to care about society’s labels. Alpha, Beta, Omega… in the end, they were all just people—with strengths and weaknesses, dreams and fears.

Still, the world didn’t work that simply.

Being an Alpha with prestige in the hero world meant more than Hawks sometimes wanted to admit. The number three in the rankings, the golden-winged prodigy, the Alpha with a dominant presence and public admiration… all of that had followed him since his youth, shaping what others expected of him.

But Wanderer had never been part of those expectations.

He didn’t act like the typical image of an Omega, nor like a distant Beta. He didn’t fit into anything, and that was precisely what fascinated Hawks the most.

And now, seeing him there, wearing the shirt Hawks had left in his apartment the last time he visited, was enough to make his heart race.

It wasn’t just about Wanderer wearing something of his. It was about what it meant.

The plain gray fabric bore no more detail than the faint scent of Hawks clinging to it, but the fact that Wanderer wore it—naturally, without giving it much thought—defied all the unspoken rules of their society.

Hawks smiled, leaning against the wall as he crossed his arms. “That shirt comfy for you?”

Wanderer, sitting on the couch with a cup of tea in hand, barely looked up. “It’s functional.”

Hawks chuckled softly. That was so typical of him.

“Functional, but mine,” he added, amusement evident in his tone.

This time, Wanderer did look at him—those eyes that never revealed too much, yet somehow always said plenty.

“I don’t see the significance,” he finally replied.

Hawks stepped forward until he was standing right in front of him. “You know what some people would say if they saw you in that? They’d say you’re wearing my mark—that you’re claiming something.”

Wanderer exhaled calmly, unbothered by the provocation. “It’s a shirt. Not a forced bond.”

Ah. There was the difference.

To society, bonds between Alphas and Omegas carried expectations, imposed marks, roles many considered inevitable.

But they weren’t part of that.

Wanderer wasn’t wearing the shirt because society dictated it. He wore it because he chose to.

And Hawks… well, Hawks was simply happy to see him in something of his.

He smirked with satisfaction before draping an arm behind the couch and murmuring, “Still, it looks good on you.”

Wanderer didn’t respond, but Hawks noticed the faint curve of his lips.

Because, in the end, titles and prejudices didn’t matter.

This did.

Chapter Text

The kitchen was filled with little sounds: the spoon clinking against the plate, the crunch of cookies breaking in Kujou Sara’s tiny hands, the faint bubbling of warm soup on the stove.

It was an orderly chaos—the kind of quiet mess that only existed when a child enjoyed their favorite foods.

Wanderer watched closely, analyzing every movement as she eagerly chewed on the sweet bread Hawks had brought her that afternoon.

“Do you like it that much?” he asked, not out of genuine curiosity, but with a deeper purpose.

Kujou Sara nodded quickly. “It’s the best bread in the world!”

Wanderer glanced at the remaining piece on the plate.

In society, Omegas were known to have heightened sensitivities compared to Alphas and Betas, meaning certain flavors, scents, or sensations could affect them in unexpected ways. Wanderer had never thought much about that. His relationship with food was functional, his appetite occasional, his enjoyment nearly nonexistent.

But Sara loved food.

Every bite, every new dish—she experienced them with a joy he didn’t entirely understand. And for the first time, he wondered if there was something about food that he had never truly grasped.

So he picked up the sweet bread and took a bite.

The flavor was immediate: soft sweetness, a touch of butter and sugar melting on his tongue. Nothing overwhelming, but… pleasant? Yes, pleasant.

Sara stared at him with wide, expectant eyes. “Did you like it?”

Wanderer thought about it.

“It’s… different.”

Sara frowned. “But it’s yummy!”

Wanderer studied her. His daughter’s excitement didn’t come from some complex logic—it came from pure emotion.

He looked at the soup, the juice, the cookies.

Slowly, he tasted each one, letting the flavors settle on his palate, without analyzing them like he would anything else in his life.

For Kujou Sara, food wasn’t a process.

It was part of her happiness.

And though Wanderer had never given it much thought before, for the first time, he understood a little more about her world.

It wasn’t just sweet.

It was sharing.

Chapter Text

Hawks' wings stretched with a slight tremor as the evening light bathed the small apartment. Kujou Sara, sitting on the couch with childish curiosity, watched intently as her father shook out his feathers, while Wanderer sat beside her, analyzing every movement with precision.

It was the third time Hawks had brought up the subject.

“Come on, Fujin, it’s not hard. Just follow what I showed you,” he said with a relaxed smile.

For many, grooming someone was an intimate gesture, reserved for those with a deep bond. In their society, Alphas did it for their mates, Omegas for their children, Betas for those they deeply trusted. It was more than just a necessity—it was a sign of connection.

And now, with Hawks insisting and Kujou Sara eagerly waiting, he had to learn.

----------+

The feathers were different from what Wanderer had expected. Soft, textured in a way that didn’t match his analytical mind’s predictions. It wasn’t just about cleanliness, it wasn’t a mechanical process.

It was something else.

Kujou Sara fidgeted impatiently. “Do it, Papa Fujin! I want to, too!”

Hawks chuckled. “Little one, me first. Then you.”

Wanderer exhaled, ignoring his instinctive hesitation, and slid his fingers cautiously through Hawks’ wings.

It was different. It was strange.

The feathers vibrated in response to his touch. As if Hawks’ body was perceiving it in a way he couldn’t fully understand.

“More pressure,” Hawks murmured. “If you’re too gentle, it tickles too much.”

Wanderer adjusted his touch, moving with more certainty.

Kujou Sara watched, her bright eyes taking it all in, and when Hawks stretched with satisfaction, she practically bounced in excitement.

“Now me!”

Sara’s wings were small, fragile, still growing.

But Wanderer repeated the process, softer, feeling the difference between them. It wasn’t just care. It was deeply personal.

When he finished, Hawks gave him a thoughtful look.

“You didn’t do too bad,” he finally said, a touch of pride in his voice. “You’re getting better.”

Wanderer stared at him, silent for a moment.

Something inside him had shifted.

Without needing words, he had learned something new.

Something he could only understand when touching the wings of his family.

Chapter Text

Hawks sighed as he checked his schedule.
Patrols, meetings, undercover work.
He had exactly two hours and twenty-seven minutes before his next commitment.

Not much, but enough to see him.

Without thinking further, he headed to Wanderer’s apartment.

-----------+

The door opened, and Wanderer looked at him with his usual neutral expression—calm, unbothered, as if time didn’t affect him. Because it didn’t.

Hawks, on the other hand, was already exhausted. Always running, always adjusting schedules, always feeling like he never had enough time.

“You look tired,” Wanderer commented, stepping aside to let him in.

“I am,” Hawks admitted with a sigh.

The couch was his temporary refuge. He collapsed onto it, closing his eyes for just a second before snapping them open again.

“I can’t stay long,” he added quickly, his tone almost apologetic for his own existence.

Wanderer watched him from the kitchen, calmly pouring himself some tea. “You never can.”

Hawks let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, I know. But I try to make it work.”

“You don’t need to try.” Wanderer sat beside him, no pressure, no demands. “I have all the time in the world.”

Those words always left him speechless.

Hawks lived on a fast-paced schedule, in a world where every second counted. But Wanderer… he existed beyond that urgency. He didn’t age, he didn’t fear losing moments. There was no rush for him.

“You know I can’t relax like you do, right?”

Wanderer took a sip of his tea. “I don’t expect you to.”

Hawks turned his head, watching him. His gaze was calm, his posture relaxed.

There was no frustration from Wanderer about his constant absence. No complaints, no demands.

Just the certainty that, no matter when, Hawks would always return.

Hawks exhaled slowly and closed his eyes for a moment.

Maybe he’d never fully balance his life.

But at least he had someone who waited for him, without the constraints of time.

-------------+

For the first time, Hawks felt the weight of exhaustion hit him hard.

Wanderer noticed immediately, with the precision of someone who didn’t need to guess. He knew exactly what was happening.

“Sleep,” he said, his voice firm yet calm. “Just for an hour.”

Hawks blinked, surprised by the offer. Sleep. That word wasn’t usually part of his free time.

“Trust me,” Wanderer added, settling into the couch. “I’ll wake you.”

Hawks studied him, processing the idea. It was strange. A completely different way of spending time together.

But it was… nice.

With a sigh of surrender, Hawks shifted, letting his head rest against Wanderer’s lap. The couch supported him, but Wanderer was his refuge.

His wings trembled slightly, adjusting to the new position. Wanderer simply ran a hand through his hair, a gentle motion, no words needed.

Nothing more was necessary.

Time was a constant enemy for Hawks. But here, in this moment, he had found a fragment of peace.

Wanderer didn’t count the minutes.

Because he didn’t need to.

And for at least this one hour, neither did Hawks.

Chapter Text

I am Kujou Sara, and although I am not yet fifteen, my days are filled with questions that only my heart understands. My family is sometimes an enigma—a puzzle made up of very different pieces: Hawks and Papa Fujin. Two adults so different that at times the mystery becomes almost as exciting as the comics I read.

Hawks, my professional father, is the hero everyone admires. With his golden wings and determined bearing, he always seems busy saving the world. When I see him leave at dawn or return bathed in the glow of the city lights, I feel immense pride. He is strong, always sure, yet I have noticed: sometimes his gaze drifts, and in those moments, he doesn’t seem entirely present. I know that his speeches on television, in which he embodies impeccable heroism, carry an unyielding tone of valor, but I—in the midst of my world of drawings and little secrets—sense a hidden fragility behind that façade.

I wonder, with the innocence and insight of my age, if his constant fight for justice and duty leaves him without the freedom to be himself. In the quiet hours after class, I pause to look at a photo on the shelf: there is my father, in his gleaming uniform, and in his eyes there is a shadow that—although I do not know what it means—makes me want to hug him even tighter.

Then there is Papa Fujin. He comes to our home as a warm refuge, a haven of peace amid the whirlwind of dad’s life. Unlike Hawks, Papa Fujin moves with such calm, almost as if time itself were suspended around him. His voice is gentle, and in his smiles are hidden secrets that are never openly revealed. I know well that, at times, even dad Hawks seems lost when he tries to understand Papa Fujin. There is something about him that shines in the twilight, something that even my hero with golden wings has failed to fully unravel.

When I am with them, I feel like I am in the middle of two worlds: one of dazzling lights and public glories, and another of shadows and whispers filled with sincere affection. While my father clings to his duty to save the city, Papa Fujin envelops me in mysterious tenderness. I recall one afternoon, while we sat together on the couch, seeing dad Hawks look at Papa Fujin with a mix of admiration and restrained frustration. He didn’t say anything, but I understood: there were stories in Papa Fujin’s eyes that even my father dared not decipher.

Being the little girl I am, sometimes I whisper my thoughts as I draw my two heroes. In my scribbles appear wings, constellations, and clouds, and in every stroke blend the perfection of Hawks’ justice with the indefinable warmth of Papa Fujin. I wonder how they can be so different yet so essential to one another. I feel that my family is a riddle without an answer, and I am filled with curiosity knowing that even dad Hawks keeps many secrets about Papa Fujin, as if his mystery were so unfathomable that even he falls short.

Sometimes, in the quiet solitude of my room, I try to imagine what Papa Fujin’s story might be. Perhaps his past hides an adventure that no one knows, or maybe there are wounds concealed behind his serene smile. Although my years are still few, my intuition tells me that his silence does not signify indifference, but the weight of experiences he carries without wishing to reveal them. And even though I long for answers, I also find solace in the calm of his presence. Papa Fujin never demands attention; he is simply there, like a silent guardian protecting our little universe.

At school, when I talk about my family, I smile and explain that I have two very special dads: one who soars through the skies fighting villains, and another who, with measured gestures and an enigmatic gaze, cares for me like no one else could. Some of my classmates don’t understand, but it is enough for me to know that in our home there is a rare balance—a blend of action and mystery, of courage and tenderness—that makes me feel truly special.

Every time I come home and see Hawks change from his hero suit to casual clothes, and Papa Fujin preparing tea with a calm that seems to defy time itself, I realize that despite their differences, they complement each other in ways that still elude my understanding. And in those moments, as I sit on Papa Fujin’s lap or listen to the unspoken stories exchanged by my parents, I find a peace that sometimes drifts my thoughts into a sea of doubts and dreams at once.

Perhaps someday, when I am older, I will uncover the secrets that shroud Papa Fujin. Maybe my father will also learn to unravel that which he himself cannot comprehend. Until then, I will keep treasuring every moment our little trio gathers, knowing that even if the answers remain elusive, love and unity are real.

Because in my family, even enigmas have a tender, human flavor, and with each passing day, I learn to love both the dazzling lights and the enigmatic shadows that shape our world.

Chapter Text

Hawks felt like he was facing the most complicated villain of the day.

Right in front of him, spread across the kitchen counter, lay all the components of his enemy: the empty baby bottle, the can of formula, the measuring spoon, and the hot water.

It seemed simple in theory. But nothing was ever simple when it came to a baby.

“Kujou needs this, right?” he muttered, staring at the formula as if it were some kind of lab experiment.

“Obviously,” Wanderer replied from the table, his tone carrying the same absolute calmness of someone who didn’t see the problem.

Hawks took a breath, reviewing the instructions on the can. It wasn’t that hard. Add the formula, measure the water, shake.

Easy.

Except it wasn’t.

“How many scoops did you say?” he asked, brow furrowed.

“Two. Not three, like you did a second ago.”

Hawks squinted at the formula. “And the water—how hot?”

Fujin watched him with indifference. “The right temperature. Not more, not less.”

“That tells me nothing!”

Hawks felt his frustration grow as the hot water touched the bottle. Was it too much? Was it cooling too fast? Was he about to accidentally poison his daughter if the formula was mixed wrong?

Wanderer rested his chin on his hand, observing the spectacle without changing his expression. “If I were human, I’d probably be nervous at this point.”

Hawks glanced at him. “Oh yeah?”

Wanderer nodded, calmly stating the inevitable truth. “But my brain can calculate the temperature and exact portions at a glance. So, I don’t have that problem.”

Hawks exhaled, slumping against the counter. “Great. So what you’re saying is, while I’m here dying, you’ve already solved this in your head.”

“Correct.”

The hero ran a hand over his face. This was way too much stress for something so simple.

Wanderer finally stood up, walking over with no urgency. He picked up the bottle, checked the liquid, calculated the temperature with a slight wrist movement, and—satisfied with the result—handed it back to Hawks.

Hawks stared at him suspiciously. “That’s it?”

“Yes.”

He blinked, still feeling the tension in his shoulders. But when tiny Kujou Sara started waving her little hands, calling for attention, he realized all that stress had been unnecessary.

Because in the end, the only thing that mattered was that his daughter was fed properly.

Hawks scooped her into his arms, holding the bottle with newfound confidence.

As Sara eagerly drank, Hawks allowed himself to laugh.

“I’ll get better at this,” he murmured.

“I certainly hope so,” Wanderer replied, settling back down with his tea.

And for the first time, Hawks felt that maybe fatherhood wasn’t an impossible mission after all.

He just needed… practice.

And a strange yet incredibly efficient partner by his side.

Chapter Text

Hawks didn’t ask for much.

Just a kiss. A simple, quiet, normal kiss. Was that too much to ask?

Apparently, yes.

Because every attempt to get close to Wanderer ended in disaster.

—------------------------------------------+

First attempt.

The afternoon sun streamed through the window, softly illuminating the room. Wanderer sat with a cup of tea, relaxed, his expression serene as always.

Hawks saw him and thought: now is the moment.

He approached naturally, resting a hand on the table, leaning in with intent.

"Fujin," he murmured, his tone carrying that slight amusement he used when he wanted to provoke something more.

Wanderer looked up, and just as Hawks lowered his face to brush their lips—

“Dad!”

Kujou Sara’s sharp little voice struck like lightning in the room.

Hawks froze.

Wanderer barely blinked.

Sara ran in, holding a book in her hands, completely ignoring the scene. “Look! This one has pictures of heroes in combat. Do you do this?”

Hawks, with his face still inches from Wanderer’s, let out a sigh of resignation.

Failed attempt.

—----------------------------------------------+

Second attempt.

This time, Hawks planned better.

He waited until Kujou Sara was distracted, playing in her room. The opportunity was perfect.

Wanderer was lying back on the sofa, his eyes closed, resting peacefully.

Hawks approached carefully, a small smile on his lips. This was it.

He only needed to lean in, touch his face lightly with his fingertips, and—

A loud noise.

Hawks turned immediately, only to see Kujou Sara emerging from her room with a triumphant expression.

“I found my favorite doll!”

The hero let his head drop against the sofa’s backrest.

Second attempt failed.

“Pff—” still with his eyes closed and his serene expression intact, Wanderer barely contained his laughter. No need to fan the flames.

—---------------------------------------+

Third attempt.

This time, Hawks had no patience.

He found Wanderer in the kitchen, organizing some ingredients, and decided that  he was going to do this right now.

No hesitation, he grabbed Wanderer’s wrist and pulled him in with a determined motion.

Wanderer looked at him calmly, as if he understood the purpose without words.

Hawks smiled, slowly leaning in—

But the sound of tiny feet running interrupted the moment.

“I’m hungry!” Sara exclaimed, arriving in the kitchen with childish expectation.

Hawks closed his eyes. He wasn’t even surprised anymore.

His daughter had a talent for appearing just when he was about to get what he wanted.

With a deep sigh, he pulled away from Wanderer.

“You know what?” he muttered, utterly defeated. “Forget it. We’ll have to wait until she grows up.”

Wanderer simply picked up a knife and continued slicing fruit. “Or until you learn to dodge better.”

Hawks shot him a glare.

Third attempt failed…

But before he could respond, Wanderer set the knife down with a calm movement and, without warning, grabbed Hawks by the nape, turned him precisely, and kissed him with certainty.

Hawks froze for just an instant before letting himself go, surprised but completely satisfied with the unexpected turn of events.

When Wanderer pulled away, Hawks had to blink several times before letting out a low laugh.

“That was cheating,” he murmured, grinning.

Wanderer continued with his task, indifferent. “You were wasting too much time, worrying about little things.”

Hawks laughed again. Not planned, but mission accomplished.

Meanwhile, Kujou Sara watched them with wide eyes and a happy smile, as if seeing her dads being affectionate was the best possible conclusion.

And in the end, Hawks couldn’t complain.

Because although the mission for a kiss had seemed impossible at first, he had gotten his reward in the end.

Chapter Text

The wind blew strong at this height, but neither of them really noticed.

For them, being at the top of the city wasn’t unusual. It was their natural terrain.

Hawks spread out the blanket on the flat surface of the skyscraper, securing it carefully. A picnic on the ground was way too boring for them.

“You realize that if someone saw us from below, they’d think we’re crazy?” Hawks asked with a playful grin while pulling out the containers of food.

Wanderer, sitting with his usual relaxed posture, gazed at the horizon without urgency. “Does it matter what people below think?”

Hawks laughed. “No, but I like imagining what they’d say.”

The city stretched out beneath them like an ocean of lights and towering buildings—vibrant, alive, completely unaware of their little bubble in the sky.

Wanderer observed the food, tilting his head slightly. “You do realize most picnics happen on grass?”

Hawks nudged him lightly. “Yeah, but this is better. No bugs, no dirt. Just good food and a perfect view.”

Wanderer picked up the tea Hawks had brought, taking a slow sip and letting the taste settle before speaking. “I could get used to it.”

Hawks leaned his arm on his knee, watching Wanderer with a thoughtful look. “You know, most people think flying means freedom.”

Wanderer, still looking up at the sky, responded calmly. “And isn’t it?”

Hawks exhaled. It was. But it was also solitude. The difference was in who you shared the flight with.

He lifted one of his red feathers between his fingers, spinning it absently. “Maybe flying is freedom, but sharing it with someone who gets it… that’s something else.”

Wanderer observed him for a moment before taking another sip of tea.

He didn’t answer immediately. That wasn’t his style.

But after a few seconds, with the wind around them and the distant hum of the city below, he let out a quiet remark:

“It’s not bad sharing it with you.”

Hawks smiled.

It wasn’t an overly sentimental declaration.

But in the silent language he had learned with Wanderer, it said everything.

Chapter Text

[Scene: Student Council Room – Shogunate Aerial High School]

(The room is neatly arranged. In the background hangs the school emblem: a golden feather atop a purple storm. Kujou Sara stands by the window, looking out over the courtyard. Hawks enters, with his easy smile and the air of having already read the report before everyone else.)

Hawks:
(In a relaxed tone)
Another cloudy morning in the reign of rules, President Sara?

Kujou Sara:
(Without looking at him, firm)
Discipline knows no weather, Vice President. But I'm surprised to see you punctual.

Hawks:
(Raising his eyebrows, amused)
Me too. It must be civic duty—or perhaps the intrigue of seeing if you'll get the 2-B students to use their credentials today without turning it into a holy war.

Kujou Sara:
(Barely audible sigh)
Their provocations aren't bringing order. But yes, Class 2-B will be a topic. They've violated Article 7 again.

Hawks:
(Sits sideways at the table)
Or maybe they're just reclaiming their space... Sometimes a little chaos is a sign that something's no longer right. Don't you think the rules should live on, not just be obeyed?

Kujou Sara:
(Turns slowly. Her gaze is sharp, but not hostile)
And what do you propose? That each student decide their own rules?

Hawks:
(Shakes his head with a calm smile)
I'm just saying that listening is also a way of commanding. And you, President, could inspire more than impose. Your voice still doesn't shout.

(Sara is silent for a moment. The tension is almost ceremonial, as if they both know this exchange isn't the first... nor will it be the last.)

Kujou Sara:
(Speaking more softly)
Perhaps... a student dialogue committee. If you agree to chair it, of course.

Hawks:
(Raises his eyebrows, then smiles sideways)
Was that an invitation, President? Because you know I love a challenge with wings.

(The two exchange a fleeting glance—a tacit pact between order and the free wind. The scene fades with the echo of determined footsteps, heading toward a council that, for the first time, will feel alive.)