Chapter Text
The road to recovery was often paved with setbacks.
Keigo knew that first hand. He’d been injured more times than he could count during his career, but never quite this bad—he’d always managed to at least walk out with his wings before, but this battle had been absolutely brutal. He’d never been in critical condition this long or had so many emergency surgeries. The doctors said he’d be out of commission for the foreseeable future.
It was understandable that Enji would be worried about him. They’d been dating for over a year now, unbeknownst to just about everyone who wasn’t them. Seeing such a strong hero at the hospital with tears in the corner of his eyes had been shocking for both Keigo and everyone else who managed to catch a glimpse of him.
So when Enji had sobbed into his chest, promising he’d never come close to losing him again, Keigo expected a lot of things…
But he hadn’t expected Enji to snap, not like this.
X
For the first time in over a month, he was finally waking up in his own bed. It should’ve been something to celebrate or feel proud of, but in the few moments that he’d been awake, Keigo had come to three unfortunate conclusions.
The first was that he was in pain, quite a bit of it, honestly. He hadn’t felt this sort of all over ache since he’d first entered the hospital.
This pain led to his second conclusion. It was late—almost noon, and well past the time he was supposed to wake up and take his painkillers. He was perfectly capable of setting an alarm, but he hadn’t, thinking Enji would at least wake him up for that.
The final, and probably most disturbing conclusion, was that there was a strange, black monitor strapped to his ankle. He didn’t recognize it, and he knew for a fact hadn’t been there the night before when Enji had helped him to bed.
It hurt to sit up, the skin on his back still raw and the open wounds where his wings had been, still scabbing over. The more he tried to power through, the more evident just how badly he needed drugs became. Hopefully, Enji would come to the room soon so that Keigo could get some relief.
And then he could ask about the monitor around his ankle.
He fiddled with the device, attempting to find the clasp to remove it. The more he messed with it, the more he began to grasp the gravity of his situation. This wasn’t a standard police issue monitor that could be cut off with a pair of bolt cutters. This was far more intricate, with much higher quality materials. It was seamless, and Keigo couldn’t find a way to unlock it anywhere.
Who had put this on him? It couldn’t have been Enji, could it? Had the Hero Commission talked him into this? Keigo didn’t understand why they would. Once they’d found out just how damaged he was, they’d all but written him off. Did they want to monitor him and make sure he didn’t do anything stupid during his recovery? No way his boyfriend would agree to that.
Maybe this was worse than he thought? Was Enji even here? For all Keigo knew, his boyfriend was injured or kidnapped. He could even be in danger himself!
Like hell he was going to go out like this. After surviving what might’ve been the fiercest battle of his life, he wasn’t about to let himself be murdered in his own home.
He didn’t have his wings, which was a significant problem. His mobility was severely limited by a knee brace that took up half of his left leg, but he’d hobble or crawl his way out of here if he had to. If nothing else, he had to figure out what was happening so that he could find Enji and send help.
It took every ounce of strength he had to push himself off of the bed, and already his head was spinning by the time he stood up. He could hardly stand to put any weight on his leg at all. One step and his joints were screaming. Two steps, and Keigo knew the third would leave him passed out on the floor.
He was determined to power through, but the sound of the door sliding open stopped him in his tracks.
This was it. Whoever had put this monitor on him was likely standing on the other side of the door. At the very least, they were coming to torture him. Worst case scenario, he was currently taking his last breaths. There was no way he could realistically put up a fight in this condition.
So to hear Enji’s booming voice ask him, “what the hell are you doing out of bed?” was almost a relief.
“Oh, thank God,” he sighed, “I thought you’d been kidnapped.”
Enji quirked a brow behind the tray he was carrying in his hands. “What would make you think that?”
Keigo gestured towards his ankle. “There’s a monitor around my ankle.”
He didn’t know why he’d expected Enji to be as surprised as he was—as if someone else had snuck in while they were sleeping and slipped it on. He didn’t seem surprised though, more guilty if anything. Keigo could see his face contort as Enji helped him back into bed.
“Yes… that ,” he said before clearing his throat, “How about we get you settled in first, and then we can talk about that.”
“Okay…” Keigo replied, his voice wavering with unease.
He trusted Enji, trusted him enough to live with him, and let the man take care of him as he recovered. There had to be a good reason for this gadget, even if Keigo couldn’t think of one.
The longer he waited for Enji to say something, the more his nerves began to unsettle. The older hero seemed to be moving with a strong sense of purpose, retrieving the tray from the doorway and placing it over Keigo’s lap.
Breakfast in bed wasn’t a luxury they usually had the time to afford, but when they could afford to indulge, it was never quite like this.
Keigo laughed a bit, hoping to lighten the mood, “What’s all this? Feeding a small army?”
The spread was larger than what he was used to and probably more than what he and Enji even ate together. There was quite the variety— fruit, porridge, bacon. The three rolled omelets in the corner already were more than he could handle, let alone the pile of pancakes or a heaping bowl of rice and fish.
He’d expected Enji to laugh it off, make some comment about spoiling him or food aiding with recovery, but he got neither. Instead, the hero took a seat on the edge of the bed and placed a somber hand on Keigo’s leg.
“Babe…” he started cautiously
“Do you know how hard it was for me, seeing you clinging to life in that hospital bed?” He said, and Keigo couldn’t remember a time he’d ever heard the hero sound so broken.
Typically Enji was a pillar of strength—powerful, fearless, intimidating. He was the kind of man who didn’t stray from his conviction, who bent fate to match his will, but at this moment, he was no more than a scared child. He couldn’t even bring himself to make eye contact, his shoulders slumped heavy and his head hanging even lower. His fingers were delicate against Keigo’s thigh, barely there, as if just a minuscule amount of force might shatter it in his palms.
“I thought you were going to die,” he continued. “I’ve never been… not even …I was sure I’d lost you, and I promised myself if you made it, I’d never let that happen again.”
It was hard to forget Enji’s face in the hospital room. He didn’t often cry, if ever, but he hadn’t held back those first few nights. Even through the drugs and the pain, Keigo could hear his desperate sobs loud and clear from his bed. It was a miserable sound he’d hoped he’d never have to hear again.
“I’m sorry I scared you, but I’m fine now.”
“ Are you? ” His boyfriend snapped. Keigo flinched at the sudden pressure on his thigh before Enji pulled his hand back. “Look at you. You’re helpless as it is, and without your wings, you’re practically quirkless.”
“The doctors said they’d grow back eventually, and the rest of these injuries will heal.”
“When? They said it could be a year or longer! And then what? You’ll be out there again, doing something stupid and landing yourself in the ICU or worse.”
Keigo wouldn’t consider what he did stupid. He was saving lives, and Enji knew better than anyone that being a hero often meant putting your body, and your life, on the line without a second thought. This was just one of the many perks of the job. Of course seeing someone you loved get hurt rattled your nerves, but that was no reason to get upset or give up.
“Look Keigo; I’ve buried enough loved ones. I’m not going to bury you too. I won’t allow it.”
Suddenly the ankle brace made so much more sense.
“ Enji…” said Keigo slowly. His hands were shaking in his lap. Something told him he already knew the answer to his next question, but he prayed he was wrong. “ What did you do? ”
“I’m doing what is necessary to keep you safe.”
“By keeping me caged up like an animal?”
“I need to be able to keep track of you. It’s not a prison sentence. You’re free to roam the estate.”
“But not leave, right?”
“I’m afraid not. It’ll alert me immediately if you attempt to exit the perimeter. If you tamper with it, I’ll know that too.”
Keigo wouldn’t be surprised if there were more to it than that. It looked too advanced, and Enji was too smart to reveal his entire hand. Knowing his luck, the monitor would electrocute him or something if he got too close to the edge.
“You’re serious?” He asked, and Enji nodded silently in confirmation. “And I can’t change your mind?”
“You’ve proven incapable of taking care of yourself. It’s not up for discussion.”
“Okay…and if I decide to run away or call for help?”
“I’ve removed the landlines, the WiFi. I’ve disconnected your phone for the time being, but I’ve gotten you a suitable stand-in. I’m the only person you need to contact, and you’ll be able to call me and me alone if anything comes up.”
As much as he wished this was all a joke, Enji lacked desperately in the humor department. There was no way he didn’t mean every word spewing from his mouth.
“And if I try to run away?”
“For the time being, I doubt you’ll be getting very far, but I have contingency plans, should it come to that.”
Keigo wasn’t sure he even wanted to ask what they were. If Enji was capable of this, who knew how far he’d be willing to go. This wasn’t the man Keigo had fallen in love with. He wasn’t even thinking straight, let alone with Keigo’s best intentions in mind.
The commission had trained him for scenarios like this—hostage situations, torture. He wracked his brain for any information that might help him talk his way out of this, but he was coming up blank. Enji wasn’t the type of man that faltered easily. No amount of crying or begging would change his mind. If anything, it would probably upset him further, and his sanity was already teetering on the edge as it was.
It wouldn’t be safe for Keigo to throw a fit at the moment anyway. He needed time to truly understand Enji’s mindset and the gravity of how much danger he was actually in. Without his wings, his boyfriend was right, he was helpless. He couldn’t defend himself even if he tried. Without access to the outside world, he was essentially fucked until he recovered more.
The safest thing, he concluded, was to play by Enji’s rules, for now at least. Staying home wouldn’t be terrible. The estate was reasonably large. He had space to roam. In a few weeks, he’d be in better condition to escape. Until then, his best bet was to read the situation and devise a flawless plan.
“It won’t come to that,” Keigo conceded, and Enji smiled to himself, seeming to buy it for now.
His hand reappeared on Keigo’s leg, this time far more gentle than a moment ago, his thumb stroking back and forth in a soothing cycle. It might’ve been comforting if there wasn’t a subtle hint of control lurking underneath the surface.
“Good. I’m glad that you understand.”
All Keigo understood was that Enji had lost it. Clearly, seeing him in the hospital had short-circuited the rational thinking parts of his brain.
Once he was free, he promised himself he’d get Enji help. He wasn’t a bad guy, just misguided and scared. Years of traumatizing hero work probably hadn’t made things any better. With some professional help, they could hopefully put this all behind them. That’s what Keigo kept telling himself. It was the only thing keeping him from panicking.
One of the biggest factors towards his success would be his ability to stay calm under pressure. If Enji caught wind that he was planning something, this would all backfire. If he was willing to go this far to keep Keigo “safe,” he didn’t want to know what Enji would do to keep him quiet.
So he forced himself to smile as he tapped the edge of his tray and said, “And what’s the over-the-top breakfast for? To soften the blow?”
Enji hesitated for a moment, thinking. “Call it… insurance .”
“I don’t follow.”
“I need to ensure you aren’t going to try to escape as soon as you’re healed.”
“And this is going to do that how?” he questioned. “All eating this much is going to do is make me… ”
It was a moment before it finally hit him, but the somber expression on Enji’s face told him everything he needed to know.
“I’m already on house arrest! Isn’t that enough? You have to fatten me up too?”
“I can’t let you leave, and I can’t let you go back to being a hero. It was either this or one of your limbs. Would you have preferred that?”
“What? No!” Of course, he was happy not to wake up with his leg missing in some botched home surgery but still, this seemed a tad too far, even for Enji.
“Then this was the best option. I promise you it won’t be that bad. You always talked about having the kind of lifestyle where you don’t have to work.”
“That’s not what I said! I said I wanted to live in a society where heroes had free time! This isn’t what I meant.”
“Well, it’s going to have to do…or else, I’ll be keeping these until you cooperate.”
Enji slid his hand into his pocket and slowly pulled out a small orange bottle. Keigo recognized it immediately.
His fucking painkillers.
“You can’t keep those away from me! I need them!”
His body was still aching from when he’d first woken up, and if anything, standing earlier had only made it worse. He could use those drugs right now, badly. There was no way he’d get through the next few months without them, not if he planned to feel well enough to escape sooner rather than later.
“You can have them only after you clear your plates.”
“Enji please,” he begged, “I agreed to the monitor, but this is just ridiculous, extreme even!”
“You always liked a challenge before.”
This wasn’t a challenge; this was torture. He could handle being cooped up for a bit, but this would be so much harder to maneuver than getting around an ankle monitor. How was he supposed to escape if he wasn’t in the physical shape to leave? With his wings, he would’ve been fine. Without them, he’d have a much harder time trying to maneuver around. He’d have to wait even longer for his injuries to heal if he was carrying too many extra pounds to actually run. He couldn’t afford to wait that long.
“There’s got to be something. Anything else.”
Something that wouldn’t leave such a lasting effect on his body or that wouldn’t be so hard to cover up, but Enji just pushed the tray closer to his chest.
“Eat up,” he said, “Before your food gets cold.”
Keigo considered refusing, pushing the tray and everything with it onto the floor, but he didn’t want to upset Enji any further at the moment. He’d think of a way out of this too soon enough, but for now, it was just easier to pick up his chopsticks and get to work.
The most unexpected part, was that Enji didn’t leave his side. Eating this much would be hard enough without an audience. He wasn’t sure he could handle the pressure of having to clean his plate with Enji studying him like a sample under a microscope.
A few times Keigo peaked up from his plate, just barely catching glances at Enji. Each time he was met with a strong, brooding stare that monitored his every move and made sure it was up to his satisfaction.
The air in the room felt awkward, at least to him. Keigo was used to being scrutinized. The Commission had constantly monitored his diet growing up, ensuring he was the ideal weight for his height and effective combat. Yet this felt more intrusive somehow, and with every bite, Keigo only felt more ashamed of himself.
About halfway through his second omelet, he couldn’t stand the sound of his own chewing anymore. He needed something, anything, to distract him.
“Can I ask, just how much weight are we talking here?”
Enji’s brows narrowed, and for a moment he thought he might be crossing a line, until the hero finally said, “However much is necessary to slow you down. Could be fifty pounds, could be one hundred and fifty.”
“You wouldn’t want me if I put on a hundred and fifty pounds.”
“This isn’t about appearances. You should know I’m not that shallow.”
This was probably the one time he would’ve preferred a boyfriend who was caught up in appearances. At least it would’ve saved him from trying to stuff down three portions worth of food in one sitting.
Just barely more than halfway, and already Keigo felt sick. His stomach hurt, stretching to accommodate each filling bite. It was evident he was slowing down already, but he couldn’t help himself. Even on his most indulgent days, he didn’t eat this much.
“Am I allowed to take a break?” He asked.
He desperately needed time to digest. His mid-section was practically screaming at him for eating so much already. Even attempting to catch his breath was proving to be an impossible task.
“The longer you take, the longer you have to suffer…and you still have at least two more meals to finish today.”
“Two? I’m not going to be able to eat for the rest of the day after this.”
“Perhaps if you would’ve woken up earlier, you could’ve had some downtime between meals.”
If he wanted him up earlier, Enji could’ve woken him, but he thought it better not to argue that minor fact when he was in no position to defend himself.
Keigo sighed, reluctantly taking in another bite. “Cut me some slack for today, at least? I didn’t know.”
It was a weak excuse, but he hoped his boyfriend could still be reasoned with.
Enji paused, seeming to consider it. “I can cut it back to two meals for today but tomorrow, no excuses. You have to finish the rest of this meal too, of course.”
As much as he wanted to admit that he was physically struggling to keep up, he brought another large bite to his mouth and forced it down.
Finishing this tray felt impossible. No matter how much he ate, it barely felt like he was making a dent anymore. The thought of having to eat like this again made his stomach churn.
“You’ll get used to it eventually,” Enji assured, “Maybe you’ll even learn to enjoy it, once you realize I’m doing this all for your own good.”
It sure as hell didn’t feel like it. How was kidnapping and torturing him helping? This was something he’d expect from the league or some rogue villain, but from the man he loved? The same man who claimed to love him?
People who loved each other didn’t do things like this. They didn’t hide them away and claim it was to keep them safe.
They definitely didn’t fatten them up against their will like pigs for slaughter.
Keigo wanted to yell, scream at the top of his lungs that this wasn’t for him. This was some sick, twisted scheme Enji had convinced himself was the only answer…but he knew any misplaced outburst might only push the hero further from the edge.
So instead, he sat in silence, trying to will his gag reflex to relax while he forced down more food. His stomach gurgled violently in protest. This, coupled with the pain he was already feeling, made him feel nauseous. He needed to finish, if only to feel the sweet relief of modern medicine. It was the only thing he had to look forward to, the only thing that made this worth it. He was already being tortured enough. He deserved a break somewhere.
The last bite, a simple strawberry from his bowl of fruit, went down like a rock in his throat. He felt absolutely sick as he let himself fall back into the bed, his stomach more tight and bloated than he thought it had ever been in his life.
Growing up poor, Keigo was used to not getting by on a lot. The Commission hadn’t made his appetite any better by constantly limiting his calories. When he’d finally been let out on his own, sure he’d indulged from time to time, but he’d never been greedy. This was just excessive, and he didn’t understand how anyone could ever learn to enjoy feeling so vulnerable and helpless. Even if he had been well enough to actually move around, there was no way he could possibly stand up like this. He couldn’t even will himself to sit up in bed again with his stomach this stuffed.
Both hands fell to his middle, feeling the taught, rounded mass beneath his calloused fingertips. Even the faintest of pressure was excruciating, and the way he was struggling to catch his breath made him feel faint, but he still had enough energy to push the tray in Enji’s direction.
“There. I finished it all. Are you happy now?”
Despite his face not adjusting one bit, Keigo could tell Enji was incredibly pleased, probably both with his boyfriend and himself.
“See? It wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“My body hurts. My stomach hurts, and I can’t fucking breathe, but at least I’m not dead right?”
He hadn’t meant to come off so harsh, but he couldn’t help himself. Keigo was already closing in on the end of his patience. The idea of having to do this again was more than he could handle.
Still, Enji didn’t so much as flinch at his tone. He simply opened the pill case and popped Keigo’s dosage into his hand. “You don’t understand, but you will, and when you do, you’ll be grateful.”
“We’ll see about that.”
“Either way, I’m a man of my word, so here.”
Keigo had never been so excited to see painkillers in his life. He swallowed them dry and prayed they eased the ache in his stomach as much as they did the aches in his body. The pain in his heart from watching the man he loved lose his fucking mind, though…well that , he’d just have to suffer through.