Chapter Text
This fight was very quickly becoming a shitshow, in Hawks’ humble opinion.
It was something of an open secret that Hawks has a weakness against fire quirks. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that feathers burn. It didn’t help any that fire quirks were anything but rare. A fire quirk of some type was a dime a dozen in this day and age. Oh, it took more than a simple flame for that quirk to be considered powerful, there weren’t a million Endeavors running around casually. But fire in any form could be dangerous.
Which made this group of villains attacking downtown Musutafu all the more annoying.
Individually, these people weren’t anything special. But together, they were succeeding in causing so much havoc that Hawks was having trouble stopping them. It was only the arrival of Best Jeanist-- thank god -- and Miruko-- his best friend has never let him down and he owes her dinner for this-- that kept Hawks from losing his mind to frustration completely.
A woman who could move beams of light to her will, annoying but mostly harmless. The glare in Hawks’ eyes was bothersome but did little to actually hinder him. An older man who seemed to have a minor earthquake quirk and was causing the most trouble. Luckily, he also seemed to be the most afraid to be attacking and wasn’t doing nearly as much damage as he could. A man with a bull mutation that was actually causing the most damage, using his strength to cause as much collateral damage as possible. Smashing windows, throwing cars, and ripping up sections of the sidewalk and road.
And then there was the fire-quirked villain. He seemed to be the leader of the group, barking out orders and successfully driving Hawks to his last shred of sanity. And his last few feathers. Damn him. It was a simple quirk; fire whips coming out of his hands. They weren’t even very long; each a few feet, but it was enough to be doing plenty of damage. Mainly because any time Hawks tried to pin the guy down, he created a cocoon around himself with his whips, burning any feathers close to him to a crisp.
It was beyond frustrating. If Hawks were a bit more childish or bitter, he would say it was akin to cheating. Totally not fair. A stupid move that shouldn’t be working as well as it did. A total, flaming pile of--
“Shit!” Hawks yelps as another batch of his feathers was turned to ash. Hawks had stopped attacking the fire-quirked villain directly, but apparently, that wasn’t going to fly-- ha-- for this guy. Hawks had turned his attention to the light-bending woman hunkered down on a rooftop that was doing her damnedest to blind Best Jeanist with a beam of sunlight while he went after the earthquake guy, who was now shaking a building, holy shit.
His new fire friend seemed to take offense to that, merging his two whips to make a longer one-- such bullshit-- that was just long enough to swipe at one of Hawks’ wings. Hawks growls, releasing the touched batch of feathers before they spread to the rest of his wings. Hawks was barely able to fly, this guy had burned so many of his feathers.
Hawks huffs as he uses two of his feathers to pin down the light quirk villain, leaving another hero or police officer or whoever to complete the arrest. Her hands were immobilized and that was what mattered right now. Hawks flies high enough to be well out of reach of the fire user, struggling just a bit with how small his wings have become.
He takes a moment to survey what’s going on. Miruko looks like she’s having the time of her life fighting the bull mutation villain, going toe-to-toe in a brutal fistfight. Jeanist had bound up the earthquake guy and has shifted his focus to the fire user, thank god. Maybe Jeanist can finish this up quickly and Hawks can go home and lick his wounds in peace. His wings are due for some nice TLC.
But of course, that’s when this shitshow becomes a shitstorm.
Because what little luck Hawks had has run out, the earthquake guy can still use his quirk while bound in Jeanist’s threads. Hawks spots it as the guy wriggles around until his feet are pressed firmly into the ground. His quirk goes off before Hawks can do more than shout a warning, and the building closest to the man begins shaking harshly.
And, of course, because nothing can be easy, there are civilians still in the building that haven’t evacuated yet. Despite a villain attack happening literally right outside their door. People, honestly.
Hawks spares what little feathers he has left to snag the people he can sense. Miruko, bless her, jumps over and delivers a vicious kick to the earthquake guy’s head, effectively knocking him out before jumping back into her own fight. The damage to the building has been done, however, and the structural integrity is shot.
A scream catches Hawks’ attention, coming from one of the remaining people in the building. A young woman, who looks to have been trying to get out via her fire escape, is dangerously close to falling. Hawks can’t spare any more feathers and still be able to fly, so instead, he soars over to her, catching her around the waist and intending to set her safely on the ground.
“Wait-- don’t-- I can’t--” the woman stutters out, her breathing fast and on the verge of hyperventilating.
“Whoa, don’t worry,” Hawks says, making his voice as reassuring as possible. He slows down his flying, not keen on making her anxiety worse or giving her whiplash. “You’re alright. Everything’s gonna be fine. I’m going to drop you over the evacuation line over there, alright?”
“No, you have to let me down now,” she says, more panicked than before. For a moment, it looks like she’s going to push at Hawks’s chest before curling her hands inward.
“Can’t really do that,” Hawks says calmly, hoping some of his calm will rub off on her. “We’re almost there, just a bit longer.”
“No, you need to let me go,” she says frantically. “My quirk--”
Hawks’ eyes widen as her hands begin to glow.
Seriously. His fucking luck.
“Whoa,” Hawks laughs nervously. “What’s uh--”
But Hawks never finishes his thought because the civilian’s hands glow brighter, and everything for Hawks goes black.
The ear-piercing scream echoes and Tsunagu barely reacts in time to catch Hawks and the civilian screaming in his arms.
Tsunagu catches hold of the threads of their clothes-- only the woman is wearing denim, none to be found in Hawks’ hero costume, he’d have to remedy that in some way-- and slows their descent. He doesn’t have enough time to do much more, and both hit the pavement hard, but at least it’s in a controlled way rather than the violent crash it would have been.
Tsunagu sees out of the corner of his eye that the civilian stumbles to her feet.
Hawks does not get up.
Something is wrong with Hawks.
Tsunagu feels his eyes widen as this registers. Something has happened to Hawks, and they need to end this quickly so they can figure out what.
“Hawks!” Miruko yells out, throwing glances at Hawks’ unmoving form at every chance she gets. Tsunagu remembers as he shoots some of his thicker, more durable fibers at the fire-quirked villain, that Hawks and Miruko are good friends, even outside of hero work. “Hey, Hawks! Get up, featherhead!”
Hawks doesn’t move.
Tsunagu manages to capture one of the fire users' arms, wrapping all the way around from elbow to fingertip in order to smother the flames. The flame user growls, thrashing around but Tsunagu holds firm. He tries to burn Tsunagu’s fabric but is unable.
“Miruko,” Tsunagu calls. “We need to finish this quickly.”
“Yeah, I’m already ahead of you,” Miruko smirks, roundhousing kicking the villain she’s fighting in the face, stunning him enough for her to land another series of hits that render him unconscious.
Now, why did that take her so long? Maybe she was just more motivated to finish so they could check on Hawks.
Tsunagu narrows his eyes, turning his focus on the fire user in front of him. He’s not incredibly strong, and now with one of his arms captive, he’s even more manageable. The fire user is monologuing now, going on and on about how they’ll succeed, make an impact on society, expose heroes, and on and on and--
Tsunagu has had enough.
Tsunagu uses his grip on the man’s arm to yank him forward toward Tsunagu. The man is surprised enough to not even attempt to fight back. Tsunagu uses the momentum to his advantage, pulling the man forward straight into Tsunagu’s fist.
Now, he’s not usually such a violent man. Tsunagu prefers to focus on capture over knock-outs. But, he’s annoyed and frustrated and worried about Hawks. A little violence seems more than appropriate.
Tsunagu only takes a moment to hand the villain over to the nearest police officer, not sparing much attention. Miruko has already handed her villains over and is kneeling beside Hawks’ still prone form.
“Hey, Jeanist!” Miruko calls out. “We might have a problem!”
Or, what should be Hawks.
Tsunagu rushes over, worry turning his stomach to stone. Only Miruko’s oddly focused face is keeping him from calling over a medic immediately.
“What is-- Oh,” Tsunagu cuts himself off.
Because huddled against the wall of the apartment building he saved that woman from, barely hidden from sight, is not Hawks.
No, instead of Hawks, there is a child.
A child who looks brilliantly like Hawks.
Tsunagu isn’t one for cursing or foul language. He finds it as detestable as unnecessary violence. A stain to a perfect cloth. But as the child looks up at him with Hawks’ golden eyes-- and oh, Tsunagu knew those marks by his eyes had to be natural. They were too perfect to be eyeliner the young man applied every day-- there is only one thought running through Tsunagu’s head.
Shit.
Double shit, actually, because the second thing Tsunagu notes after recognizing Hawks’ bright, golden eyes, is the number of bruises marring this child’s skin. Bruises on his arms, exposed by a thin t-shirt of the cheapest material. Bruises and cuts on legs, exposed by the holes in pants that are both too baggy and too short, sloppily and unlovingly patched and stitched. Bruises on his face, where the young boy has clearly been hit.
Tsunagu can only hope that these are injuries from adult Hawks that have transferred to his younger counterpart, and not injuries that the little one got himself.
The little one is looking up and Tsunagu and Miruko with barely hidden fear, eyes wide and curled into himself, back pressed to the wall. His wings are small, smaller than the rest of his body, and a dull red. The Hawks Tsunagu knows takes great pride in his wings; keeps them clean, preened, and shining. He grumbles when villains damage them, huffs and glares when people attempt to touch them without permission. The wings of the Hawks he knows are a bright, crimson red, twice the length of Hawks’ own stature.
This little one either hasn’t learned to care for his wings yet, or isn’t able to. They’re small, and maybe that’s because he’s still young. But they’re also dull and dirty. Some feathers are bent at odd angles that Tsunagu knows are painful because his Hawks complains incessantly when his feathers are tussled.
This little one looks to be in need of some thorough TLC. A nice, long, warm bath. A relaxing preening session. A full first aid kit. A filling and hearty meal. Some good, solid sleep.
He needs taken care of.
“Hello, there,” Tsunagu says, as gently as he’s able. He crouches down beside Miruko, hoping to make himself less intimidating, but the small figure in front of him still shies away. Tsunagu shuffles back a bit. Tsunagu knows he’s a tall man, he may not be large per se, but he has a presence. He’s tall and long-limbed, and that can be just as dangerous as a hulking figure.
Little Hawks doesn’t say anything, just continuing to stare at them. He’s back himself into the small alleyway between buildings, hiding himself in what little shadow there is in the afternoon sun. He looks horribly afraid, and Tsunagu’s heart is breaking for him.
“Who’re you?” little Hawks asks, voice shaking but it’s clear he’s trying to be brave. “How did I get here?”
“I’m Best Jeanist,” Tsunagu says gently. If this truly is Hawks, and he’s been turned into a younger version of himself, it’s doubtful he’s kept the memories of his adult self. He most likely has no idea who they are. A child as small as him may be comforted just by their clear Hero Costumes, but that only goes so far in putting children at ease. “This is my friend Miruko. Someone’s quirk went off and it brought you here.”
It’s an incredibly vague answer, but truthfully Tsunagu doesn’t know what else to say. He’d like some time to confer with Miruko over what exactly to tell Hawks, but it seems like they won’t get that luxury. Little Hawks continues to stare at them. Tsunagu has never noticed before just how piercing Hawks’ eyes can be.
“Are you… um…” little Hawks begins quietly. Softly. Voice wavering and not at all how Tsunagu is used to hearing the young hero. He’s still sitting on the ground, and though Tsunagu wants nothing more than to cradle the small, bruised boy in his arms, Hawks had already shied away from him once. He has an idea of what Hawks is going to ask, and he’s patiently waiting for the little one to get his question out so Tsunagu can reassure him that yes he is a hero and he’s here to help.
“... playing pretend?” little Hawks finishes his question and Tsunagu, for all his years on duty, is rendered speechless. Little Hawks blinks up at him innocently, waiting for an answer as he observes his surroundings but never lets his eyes leave Tsunagu for too long.
“What would I be playing pretend of?” Tsunagu asks cautiously. By his side, Miruko has that same confusion on her face.
“Playing heroes,” little Hawks answers. His voice, already wavering and cautious, is even more unsure and small in the face of their questioning. “Like… like on the TV? The hero shows.”
“We are heroes, little dude,” Miruko says. “Not playing pretend. It’s real.”
“Nuh-uh,” little Hawks shakes his head, face scrunching up. It would be so adorable if it didn’t highlight the dark shadows under his eyes and the bruise on his cheek. “Dad says heroes aren’t real. It’s all for show. Like, for TV. Pretend.”
What the hell? Tsunagu thinks incredulously. How did Hawks manage to go from a little boy who didn’t believe heroes were real to becoming the Number Two Hero?
Tsunagu does not like the picture that’s being painted for him about Hawks’ childhood.
“Heroes are definitely real, bud,” Miruko says. Her voice holds this easy confidence that seems to have Hawks riveted. “Why else would we be wearing these clothes? It’s to let people know that we’re heroes.”
“What kind of hero shows do you watch?” Tsunagu asks.
Hawks’ eyes light up, just a bit, before he quickly smothers that excitement. It’s clear that Hawks likes whatever “hero shows” he watches, despite thinking they’re just pretend.
“All Might, the big blond guy,” Hawks says quietly, his gaze shifting around nervously, as if he’s expecting someone to jump from the shadows and scold him for talking about heroes. Tsunagu wonders if something like that has happened before. While describing the big blond guy, Hawks’ arms lift and make gestures above his head, miming All Might’s hair.
Cute, Tsunagu thinks. Miruko is grinning as well, in a way that spells mischief for when Hawks gets back to normal.
“And Endeavor, another big guy with a lot of fire,” Hawks continues, hands moving to mime Endeavor’s face flames. “Dad doesn’t like it when I watch Endeavor, but he’s my favorite.”
Tsunagu has always wondered where Hawks’ admiration for Endeavor had come from. It seems it started at a young age.
“Well, you know about quirks, right kid? Like your wings and my ears. Endeavor’s fire and All Might’s super strength?” Miruko asks. Hawks nods. “Some people use their quirks to become heroes. Like Endeavor and All Might and Jeanist and Me. The hero shows you watch are probably the news.”
“But Dad says heroes aren’t real,” little Hawks says again. His face is scrunched up in confusion, though. “And Momma got me an Endeavor doll for my birthday this year. I thought if it’s a toy it’s pretend.”
“Sometimes,” Miruko nods. “You’re not wrong. But heroes also make toys of themselves so that kids can play with them. Pretend they’re being real-life heroes just like the toys. Ya know, fight villains as their favorite heroes, reenact battles, stuff like that.”
Little Hawks huffs, clearly not satisfied with the answers he’s getting but unwilling to push it. Instead, little Hawks chooses to go back to how he got here in the first place.
“Is that how I got outside?” little Hawks asks. “Someone else’s quirk? A… villains?”
“Sort of,” Tsunagu answers cautiously. He’s not happy to lie to anyone, least of all a confused child. But he fears that the truth may be too much for Hawks to handle now, especially considering how up until just a little while ago-- and perhaps still-- Hawks didn’t even think heroes were real. Tsunagu is not proud of it, but he comes up with a lie on the spot. Flimsy as it may be, it should be enough to settle a child as small as Hawks.
“Miruko and I were fighting some villains out in the street back there,” Tsunagu gestures to the police cars behind that are still at the scene. Officers are walking around, taking statements, and consoling civilians. A few are beginning to shoot them looks, probably wondering if there’s some kind of emergency. They did all see Hawks go down, after all.
“Someone got scared and their quirk went off. It sent a bunch of people to different places. You ended up right here. That’s why you showed up here out of nowhere and confused.”
Not Tsunagu’s best lie, but judging from the impressed look Miruko shoots him, it’s good enough.
“Oh,” little Hawks’ face scrunches up again, this time in clear concern. He stands up shakily, Tsunagu and Miruko automatically reaching out to steady him but it turns out to be unnecessary, wings fanning out on instinct to help keep his balance. It’s a move Tsunagu has seen his Hawks do countless times.
Little Hawks is so small, clearly underfed, and neglected. His clothes are dirty, ripped and patched up, somehow both too small and too large. The parts of him uncovered are bruised harshly, and small cuts litter his knees. Any small amount of doubt leaves Tsunagu’s mind with clear evidence in front of him.
Hawks, cheerful, brave, heroic Hawks, came from an abusive home. And this younger version of him in front of Tsunagu is still there. Beside him, Miruko has clearly come to the same conclusion.
“Can I go home then?” little Hawks asks, hands twisting in the hem of his shirt. “Dad’ll be mad if he knows I went outside, even if it’s not my fault. I’m not s’posed to.”
“Not supposed to what, little one? Go outside?” Tsunagu asks in shock.
Little Hawks nods his head. “It’s against the rules. No one’s s’posed to see me. Dad gets mad and I get in trouble. I don’t like getting in trouble, so I should go home before he notices I went outside.”
Tsunagu shares a worried look with Miruko. There are too many things happening right now, too many factors to take into account. But one thing is certain, they need to make sure Hawks is taken someplace safe.
“Let’s get you somewhere safe first, hm?” Tsunagu suggests haltingly. “There are lots of people here, so we should get you somewhere we can properly take care of you and figure things out, yes?”
“Um…” little Hawks says hesitantly, shifting on his feet and looking around. He’s clearly worried, untrusting of Tsunagu. “I don’t know…”
“Think of it like this, little dude,” Miruko chimes in with a smile. Little Hawks seems to be a smidge more comfortable with her, maybe because they both have mutation quirks. “We’re heroes, yeah?”
“I guess…” little Hawks grumbles.
“We are,” Miruko says, a touch more determined. “That means we want to make sure you’re safe and healthy and haven’t been hurt at all from that quirk. And from what I can see, you’ve got a lot of bruises there.”
Miruko reaches out, not touching but close enough to Hawks that his eyes cross following her hand. Miruko points to the bruise under Hawks’ left cheek. The boy self-consciously covers it with a hand, a pout taking over his little face. It must have hurt to clap his hand over his bruise like that, but the little one didn’t flinch at all. Tsunagu notes that while Hawks leans back, he doesn’t flinch away from Miruko like he did with Tsunagu.
(A part of Tsunagu wonders if Hawks is more afraid of men. Dad’ll be mad echoing in his head. He wonders if that’s still accurate with adult Hawks, and how that translates to being in such a male-dominated industry. A violent male-dominated industry.)
“So we wanna make sure you’re all cleaned and bandaged up, get you some food, and then we can figure things out. I mean, we don’t even know your name! How can we help you get home if we don’t know anything about you?” Miruko finishes.
“Oh. Um, okay,” little Hawks agrees, looking around at the crowds of people starting to move closer to the attack site. So far they’ve managed to keep Hawks out of view of the public and any cameras. They should really get Hawks out of the open before someone does see him. Little Hawks takes a small step closer to them, and it feels more like acceptance than his words have.
“May I carry you?” Tsunagu asks, opening his arms. “We’ll be able to get out of here much more quickly that way. I promise to be very careful with your wings.”
Hawks looks wary, but he nods nonetheless, taking one more brave step toward Tsunagu. Hawks is stiff, a tight ball of tension, and rigid when Tsunagu scoops him up. Tsunagu shifts the fibers of his costume to shield Hawks from sight as they leave the alleyway. Hawks doesn’t make any noise, just lets Tsunagu and Miruko carry him away, though he does look around. Luckily, Tsunagu had driven to the site of this incident when Hawks had called for backup, and his car is parked nearby.
“And what is your name, little bird?” Tsunagu asks, hoping to distract Hawks and loosen some of the tension in his shoulders. The endearment slips out before he can stop himself. Hawks is just so small in his arms, so little. And so light. And with his wings fluttering behind him, and head moving in every direction. He truly does look like a little bird right now. Tsunagu bravely ignores Miruko’s snicker.
Tsunagu is aware that this may seem underhanded. Most top heroes-- especially the Top Ten-- have a hard time keeping their civilian identity free from their hero one. Endeavor’s civilian name has never really been a secret, Tsunagu’s name is attached to his fashion line, and Miruko has never tried hard to keep a separation.
But no one knows Hawks’ name. Not even a rumor or whisper of a name. The only other hero Tsunagu can think of that guards their civilian name as well as Hawks is All Might, whose name no one knew until his retirement.
Hawks will probably be angry about this when he returns to normal. But there’s no way Tsunagu is going to call this small child Hawks. And there are only so many nicknames or endearments he can call the boy before it starts to get weird.
“I’m Keigo.”
His voice is soft when he says it. No family name given yet, but that’s okay. This is more than enough.
“Keigo,” Tsunagu repeats, testing the name on his tongue. He can’t help but picture his Hawks; fully grown, adult, hero Hawks. And he finds the name fits well.
Little Keigo nods, as if assuring Tsunagu he got it right. It’s a very sweet gesture.
“That’s a lovely name,” Tsunagu says, his voice matching Hawks-- Keigo’s-- gentle tone. “Thank you for sharing it.”
Unfortunately, this situation is more complicated than Tsunagu had hoped it would be.
The journey to his agency had been blissfully simple. Too simple. He should have known things would turn sideways.
They had hidden Hawks-- Keigo, Tsunagu corrects-- away in Tsunagu’s office. Miruko had set about cleaning and bandaging him up. Tsunagu had sent one sidekick to get some food, and another to collect a new set of clothes that would actually fit-- and would have jean, for goodness sake.
Keigo had stayed quiet the entire time Miruko was bandaging him, completely shut down after Miruko had first asked how the little one had gotten hurt. He’d eaten cautiously, as if waiting for one of them to snatch the food away from him or scold him for daring to eat in the first place.
Keigo was asleep now, curled on the sofa in Tsunagu’s office, no doubt exhausted from the stressful day. His little wings were curled around him like a blanket, and they hadn’t wanted to risk waking him by giving him an actual one. Keigo hadn’t managed to stay awake long enough for his sidekick to bring the change of clothes, so he was stuck in his dirty ones for now.
That had all been mostly fine. It was concerning to watch Keigo shut down so completely, his face void of any emotion as soon as they asked him about his bruises. It was even more concerning to watch how cautiously he ate. It was heartbreaking to watch him curl into the tiniest ball while he slept, only his equally small wings for warmth and comfort.
And now, Tsunagu was in an empty room of his agency, speaking to the civilian that had been falling with Hawks. Miruko has claimed the easy job of watching over Keigo in case he awoke. They didn’t want him to be alone.
The civilian had been shaking when she first explained herself. How she was afraid and already losing control when Hawks had caught her. And the fear of accidentally using her quirk on the Number Two hero had done nothing to calm her nerves until she eventually lost control.
“It um,” the civilian wrings her hands, avoiding eye contact. “Well basically, Hawks is-- Hawks is a little kid now? Five seems to be the age people revert back to. Not that I’ve used my quirk a lot! I mean--”
“That is not a concern of mine,” Tsunagu assures her. “We all have quirk accidents. It’s a part of life. Anything you can tell me about your quirk would be appreciated. You will not be in any trouble with me, and I sincerely doubt Hawks will take any action against you once he’s… back.”
She cringes at Tsunagu’s wording but nods nonetheless. “I think people go back to five because that was the age I got my quirk. He’s been sent back to how he was this exact day when he was five years old. Mentally and physically, that is. It ah, it can last up to two weeks--”
Tsunagu can’t stop his eyes from widening at that news. To be missing their Number Two hero for two weeks would be… less than ideal. And Keigo already seems to be struggling here as is.
“It only has once!” the civilian is quick to assure. It’s not as comforting as she seems to think. “And that was only because a quirk counselor wanted to see what my limits were. My older brother volunteered to test it out. I don’t think Hawks will be… gone that long. I was holding onto my brother for a while when I did it to him. I only touched Hawks for a moment.”
Well, that was more reassuring. “How long would you estimate this to last then?”
The civilian shrugs. “A week? Maybe a bit less? I’m not really sure. The shortest someone stayed young was two days, but that was the very first time I used my quirk.”
“I see,” Tsunagu sighs. He resists the urge to rub his temples. This isn’t the civilian’s fault. It was an accident in the heat of a terrifying moment. There’s no blame to be placed here.
“Do you know if it will be painful at all? Hawks… coming back.”
“No,” the civilian answers quickly and confidently. It eases Tsunagu’s worry. “He’ll come back in when he’s asleep. He’ll go to bed small, wake up normal. He’ll be disoriented at first, and he might feel sick. But the process itself won’t hurt.”
“And will he… remember this time as being younger?”
“Yeah,” the civilian smiles sheepishly. “From what I can tell people remember. They say it feels like a dream. Some things might be forgotten or seem hazy. But in general, yes.”
Tsunagu would be lying if he said he wasn’t concerned about Hawks’ reaction to all of this when he was back to himself. A part of him had been hoping that Hawks wouldn’t remember and that Tsunagu could be vague about what happened to him.
He would also be lying, if he said he wasn’t tempted to leave Keigo with good memories of being a child again.
“Is there anything else?” Tsunagu asks. Tsunagu feels only relief when the civilian responds in the negative. “My receptionist will take your information in case we have any questions for you. Thank you for coming to speak with me. You’ve helped a great deal.”
Tsunagu walks the civilian as far as the reception area before heading back to his office. He enters quietly, hoping not to wake the little one before he can catch Miruko up to speed.
“What’s the situation?” Miruko raises an eyebrow.
“Not as bad as it could be, but still not great.”
Miruko scrunches up her face as she listens. He can see the spark of anger in her eyes when their fears are confirmed that this was the state of Keigo’s body when he was younger. Her brow furrows when she hears how long Keigo may stay like this. There’s a mischievous glint in her eyes when he tells her that Keigo should remember everything from this time.
“Jeanist,” Miruko leans forward conspiratorily. “We have to get him to meet Endeavor. It’s our duty as heroes to make sure little Keigo meets his favorite hero.”
Tsunagu raises an eyebrow, but he can’t deny how attractive the idea is. He wonders if Keigo’s eyes would light up with that childlike wonder and amazement that most little ones get when looking at their favorite heroes.
“We need to work out logistics before we think of frivolous things like that,” Tsunagu argues. “Who is going to take care of him? We can’t very well bring him to his parents. Regardless of abuse or not, we have no idea who they are. We have no idea who he grew up with.”
Miruko nods. “He never talks about growing up. I don’t know anything either. I think he went to some kind of year-round boarding school. He never talks about parents, but he talks about teachers sometimes.”
Tsunagu wrinkles his nose. “We’re certainly not sending him to a school. Putting him in a temporary foster home seems too dangerous. If a villain were to learn that Hawks has been turned into a small child…”
“Bad all around,” Miruko agrees. “A hero will have to take him for now. Preferably one that knows how to handle kids. Endeavor--”
“Is the Number One Hero,” Tsunagu cuts in. “With Hawks being absent until further notice, we can’t ask the Number One to take a break.”
“You then?” Miruko questions. “Right now, we’re the only ones who know what happened to Hawks. It would be best to keep it as private as possible. The fewer people who know the better.”
Tsunagu fumbles for a response as he stares at Miruko. She looks serious, eyes trained on him and mouth in a thin line.
Now, Tsunagu has always loved children. He’s always wanted one-- or more-- of his own. Tsunagu resigned himself a long time ago to never living out that particular dream. He has contented himself to watching from afar. To inspiring the children he sees every day on the job. That has always been enough for him.
Tsunagu tells himself that is enough.
But taking care of Keigo, of Hawks, is completely different from taking care of any other child. Keigo is clearly currently living in a bad situation. He’s clearly being hurt, being isolated and kept from the outside world. He didn’t even think heroes truly existed. Tsunagu is not equipped to care for him, even for a short time.
Hawks has always been cut from a different cloth than the rest of the populace. Keigo even more so. And Tsunagu has always been the most experienced with denim.
“He liked you better,” Tsunagu argues weakly.
“He let you hold him,” Miruko points out. “And I live in a one-bedroom apartment in a loud part of the city. It’s no place for a child with a sensory quirk who’s already afraid and overwhelmed.”
“Hawks is your friend,” Miruko continues. “He respects you. He trusts you. I’m his friend, but I’m the friend that encourages his bad decisions. You’re the friend that asks if he’s eaten three full meals.”
“He doesn’t eat enough, Miruko,” Tsunagu points out, incensed.
“Which is why you’ll take perfect care of him. I'm more of the fun aunt type, anyway."
Tsunagu sighs, but he’s already making plans in his mind. He has a spare room, that’s true. It’s not exactly child friendly, but it will do. He has more than enough money to purchase anything a five-year-old would need for up to two weeks. His sidekicks are more than capable of caring for the agency on their own for that time. They did perfectly while he was recovering from Kamino.
“I don’t believe I’ll be able to do this alone,” Tsunagu warns. “It’s becoming increasingly obvious just how little we know about Hawks. We should at the very least try to find any parents or guardians he might have. Someone had to care for him. We owe it to him to try.”
“Of course,” Miruko agrees. “I’ll work things out with my agency so that I can be available for the next two weeks. You’re not in this alone. He is my best friend. I’m not gonna just abandon him when he's so small and cute. Besides, I have to make sure he meets his favorite hero.”
“Miruko--”
“He has an Endeavor doll, Jeanist,” Miruko presses. “He has to meet Endeavor.”
All things considered, Tsunagu gives in far too easily.
“We’ll have to brief him. And if he’s anything less than pleasant to Keigo I’m strangling him. Hawks will return to his older self and find that he got a promotion while away.”
Miruko’s raucous laughter is enough to startle Keigo awake, and the somber air returns when the little boy yelps out a sound that almost sounds like a chirp, hands clapping over his ears, and wings cocooning his body as much as they are able.
Protecting himself.
“It’s alright,” Jeanist attempts to soothe, kneeling down by Keigo. He doesn’t touch, doesn’t even lift a hand. “You’re here at my hero agency, Keigo. With Best Jeanist and Miruko. You fell asleep a little while ago, and just woke up because Miruko was laughing. Everything is alright. Nothing is wrong and there’s no danger. You are safe here.”
Keigo peeks out from between his wings, lowering them and uncovering his ears after a moment of observing them.
“Sorry ‘bout the loud noise, little dude,” Miruko apologizes with a smile. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I wasn’t scared,” Keigo denies, despite the small ball he’s still curled up in.
“Sure,” Miruko agrees easily. “Still, sorry for waking you up. You’ve had a long day, and that quirk probably made you pretty tired.”
Keigo had narrowed his eyes when Miruko dismissed his denial so quickly, but gives a tiny nod to being tired.
“It’s getting late,” Tsunagu comments, tilting his head toward the window. The sun is setting in the sky, looking much more like dusk. Keigo unfurls from his ball, peaking over the side of the sofa to look out the large window. He looks amazed to see the view, and Tsunagu has the thought to take him up to the roof sometime so he can truly experience it.
“Keigo, how would you feel about coming home with me for the night? We can work on finding your parents and your home tomorrow. I’d like to know that you are somewhere safe tonight,” Tsunagu hopes Keigo doesn’t insist on being taken home tonight. There are only so many lies Tsunagu can tell to such an innocent face in such a short amount of time.
“But,” Keigo turns to face Tsunagu again, and a five-year-old should not know how to look so afraid. “I’ll get in trouble. I’m not s’posed to be out, and I’ve been out for a long time .”
“We’ll make sure you don’t get in trouble, Keigo,” Miruko tries to assure the little one, finally coming closer. “And we still don’t know where your home is. It might take us some time to find it. Until we do, Jeanist here can take care of you. Keep you safe.”
“But…” Keigo trails off slowly. His golden eyes fill with tears that don’t fall. “I wanna go home.”
“Oh, we know, little bird,” Tsunagu sighs. “We want to get you home as well. But as heroes, it is also our job to make sure you are safe and healthy. To do that, we all need rest. We can work on getting you home tomorrow.”
Keigo begins playing with the hem of his shirt again, stretching out the already thin material. He really needs a fresh, strong set of clothes. He hopes his sidekick also picked up some pajamas earlier. The hem of Keigo’s shirt has small holes and rips, and Tsunagu can only assume that this is a common behavior for the young one.
It takes a moment of observing Keigo before he notices, but Keigo’s nails look unnaturally sharp. A shade or two darker than a typical nail. They look…
They look like talons.
It hits Tsunagu that he has never seen Hawks without his gloves. He thinks he knows why. It hurts his heart that another one of Hawks’ secrets has been revealed without his consent.
“Is it really okay for me to not go home tonight?” Keigo asks quietly. He doesn’t look up from where his nails are poking another hole in his shirt.
“It’s alright, Keigo,” Tsunagu says, as gently as he knows how. “We’ll make sure nothing bad happens to you. We’ll keep you safe.”
“Okay,” Keigo says, just as gently.
“Okay,” Tsunagu repeats. He lowers the collar of his costume, just enough to reveal his whole face. Keigo looks up at the movement of fabric, and he watches Tsunagu curiously as the fabric shifts to Tsunagu’s will. When his face is uncovered enough, Tsunagu smiles at Keigo.
Keigo returns it.