Work Text:
On June 23rd, 2138, the sun rose, and Izuku Midoriya rose with it.
On June 23rd, 2138, the sun rose, Izuku Midoriya got his quirk.
On June 23rd, 2138, the sun rose, and in a 523 meter radius 6,347 people lost theirs.
On June 23rd, 2138, the sun rose, and his world ended.
On June 23rd, it was the last time Izuku Midoriya saw the sun rise.
---
Hawks was sixteen when he first met him.
“Today, you learn what your purpose is.”
Hawks looked up at his handler. He did not ask. He knew he didn’t have to.
His handler looked back, “You have been groomed into the perfect hero Hawks, but you are not an ordinary hero. You work directly for the hero commission, not an agency. You are a soldier.” their gaze was gunmetal steel, “Your only goal is to protect us. Today you learn what our greatest threat is.”
Before the two of them stood a cold, grey door. It was a large, bulky thing, even in Tartarus, it was overkill.
“Behind these doors, is being with the power to destroy our society, should it ever get out.”
The doors clicked and shuddered, pulling apart in a loud, awful scraping sound. He could hear the pistons hiss as they strained to move the metal. Behind that door, lay another, which opened with a similar sound. Behind that was another.
Like he said, overkill.
They walked through the newly created passageway. As they walked the doors closed behind them. Click, hiss, scrape. Click, hiss, scrape. Click, hiss, scrape. It sounded like screaming. Iron against Iron.
They came to a sort of control room. It had a long table, covered in buttons and switches, with a microphone sticking out from it. In front of that was a single chair.
The room had thick, bullet-proof glass windows, attached to the steel walls with rivets. The glass was so thick that it gained a frosted hue.
Beyond the foggy glass was a large room. It was circular, marked with red stripes at what appeared to be meter intervals that traveled inwards to the center. They led, like train tracks to hell, to the cell’s (because it was a cell. Nothing in tartarus wasn’t one) one and only inmate.
A boy, in a glass room.
It was barely two meters by two meters, equipped with only a bed, toilet and sink. There was a collection of books, thrown in various directions on one half of the room, and arranged in neat stacks on the other. In the middle of it all, was the boy. He was small (Hawks could tell that even from the distance) and much younger than himself.
The control room was covered in monitors, displaying the glass cell from all different angles, each camera focused on the boy.
His head was tucked between his knees, arms wrapped around his green curls, trapping it in a cage.
Slowly, the boy raised his head. Shadowed eyes peaked from unkempt hair.
Hawks gasped when their gaze met his. Softy, always softly, so his handler couldn’t hear.
The boy’s eyes were toxic green. Radioactive, even, the way they almost crackled with power, shining in an almost inhuman way. From so far away though, they were barely a lost star in a sea of night. Close to unnoticeable.
“Midoriya Izuku, Prisoner number: D3K-U” His handler said, “Quirk: Quirkless. Anyone within a 523 meter radius of the subject loses their quirk with no viable way to get it back. The inmate has been in containment ever since it got its quirk.”
“He’s a child,” Hawks found himself whispering.
“So are you,” his handler snapped back, “and we both know how dangerous you are. You were originally a candidate for the assasination program, if not for the hero program snatching you away first. Pity, you’d have made a great killer.”
Hawks stayed wisley silent.
His handler continued, “If D3K-U was ever to escape, our society could fall. Taking it down is an issue. No hero could get within range of it and no soldier is willing to lose their quirk for this.”
“When he got his quirk, other’s were rendered quirkless, correct?”
“Yes,” his handler said with an icy smile a lit of approval to their voice.
“Has the hero commission made a task force composed of quirkless individuals? It makes use of what's useless and solves the containment problem.”
“Very good Hawks,” His handler praised, “you show a critical mind. Alas, when D3K-U was first captured, the hero commission was quirk to cover it up. We dressed it up as a villain attack. One with a poison quirk that affected the designated radius. We flooded the media with stories of a psychopathic killer that took the lives of thousands.”
“But his quirk only destroys quirk factor-” Hawks cut himself off.
No.
They didn’t.
He looked up at his handler. Searching for anything else but confirmation. He found nothing more than cold, grey eyes.
“We panicked,” His handler explained, “Panic made us stupid. We had to control public image. We can’t cement our control while civilians know there’s something that could bring us down with such ease. If we had the foresight, we wouldn’t have gone to the same extremes. Keep your fear in check, Hawks. It lessens judgment.”
His handler turned on her heel and stalked out of the room.
“If or when the day comes that you need to eliminate D3K-U, do not fear.” They cast over their shoulder, “ I expect nothing less than perfection and it’s blood on the pavement.”
With the sound of shutting doors, Hawks was left alone.
He turned back to the glass cell. The boy was standing now, his hand pressed to the glass and head tilted slightly in a sharp sort of curiosity.
Izuku, he thought, it’s a fitting name.
And Hawks left.
—
It took a year for Hawks to come back.
If he was being honest, he was haunted by the image of Izuku. He was just a child, so much younger than Hawks.
Hawks had seen the horrors of the world firsthand, but even he would admit that one Midoriya Izuku had drawn the shorter stick.
He didn’t like to think about what his job entailed. He liked to forget. He liked to pretend that the HPSC didn’t assassinate people, that the HPSC didn’t train child soldiers, that the HPSC didn’t kill thousands of civilians, that the HPSC didn’t trap a boy, probably only four, afraid, and alone, in a glass room.
But he couldn’t.
Hawks could not pretend and he could not forget.
When he laid awake at night, waiting for sleep to come and knowing it wouldn’t, he thought of the boy. Green eyes with books stacked high like skyscrapers on one side and the ruins of buildings on the other.
And so, at age seventeen, Hawks came back.
The guards whispered as he passed them.
‘He’s going to see Deku’
‘The monster child gets a visit’
‘Won’t be seeing hawks around tartarus for a long time’
The doors screeched their hello, opening up the control room.
The doors shut behind him with the same bravado.
And then there was silence.
Just the boy and Hawks, sound having no place between the space they took up.
Until,
“You came back,” Midoriya’s voice echoed over the speakers in the room.
Midoriya was reading a book, the pages covering his face. He paced back and forth through his glass cell, like a caged animal.
Hawks sat down and leaned forward to the mic, “You remember me?”
Midoriya laughed, “You have a memorable silhouette.”
Hawks’ feathers puffed up at the tease.
“So, what brings you back, Jailbird?” Midorita asked.
“Jailbird?” Hawks repeated, “Being a bit hypocritical aren’t you?”
Midoriya turned a page, “You’re just as trapped as I am.”
Hawks raised a brow, “I’m pretty darn sure I’m not. Hate to break it to ya, bud, but you're in a jail cell.”
“I’m not talking about literal confines, Hawks.”
Hawks did a double take, “You know my name.”
“I thought that was obvious.”
“How?”
Midoriya smirked, “You’d be surprised with what you can find out with some light manipulation. It’s why I never get visitors.”
“Manipulation? Kid, you're like what, ten?”
“Eleven.”
“My point still stands. You’re a child.”
“And you are too,” Midoriya shot back, “You're barely seventeen and yet you’re almost a hero. You’ve already made your debut, the public loves you, and you’re a symbol for the next generation of heroes and the ‘bright future’ under the Hero Public Safety Commision. Not to mention all the stuff you do behind closed doors. Good work with the Murayama family, by the way.”
Hawks physically recoiled, “How do you know about them?” he demanded.
Midoriya turned another page, “Some maybe not so light manipulation.”
“Not even some higher ups know about that!”
“It’s far, far easier to see behind the curtain when you’re already behind it, Jailbird. I heard the father gave you some trouble.”
“Stop!” Hawks growled.
Midoriya didn’t, “It makes sense. That family was gifted with dangerous quirks. Even so, they were calm, gentle people. But, even a saint would feel righteous fury when they see a hero, standing in a pool of blood, their daughter run through with his red flights.”
“They were dangerous!” Hawks defended.
“They were people!” Midoriya snapped his book shut, glaring at him with those same old eyes, “and they were children! A mother and a father, and their kids. A boy and a girl! You killed them in cold blood!”
“You killed thousands,” Hawks spat.
“I got my quirk,” Midoriya corrected him, “Your people killed them.”
“Inadvertently, then.”
“Family of four,” Midoriya reminded him, “ on purpose.’
“I was under orders.”
“That you could’ve defied.”
Hawks thought back to children beaten bloody, Handlers with snarling faces and cruel laughs. He remembers the pain.
“No,” he whispered, “I couldn’t have.”
And Midoriya smiled, “Then you get it, Jailbird. I’m stuck in this prison cell, and you’re shackled in chains. We’re the same, except you choose not to leave.”
“I don’t have a choice.”
Midoriya laughed, “There’s always a choice.”
“They would kill me.”
“Liberty can be found in death.”
“I didn’t want to.”
“You did.” Midoriya said calmly, cruelly.
Hawks couldn’t find anything to say.
“You’re no better than the handlers you work for.” Midoriya continued, “You’re a monster just like them. A victim for sure, but a beast of your abusers creation.”
For a moment there was silence.
Then, Hawks laughed.
“Man!” He exclaimed, “You had me for a moment there! You're damn good at that whole light manipulation thing!”
Midoriya blinked in shock, “You cannot deny what you’ve done-” he stumbled.
“Yeah yeah,” Hawks scratched his neck, “I’m a monster yada yada yada. Kid, I’ve been manipulated since before I was your age. I’m used to it. You played a good game though, congrats.”
Midoriya shrugged off his shock and met Hawks' grin with his own sly smile, “You can discover more about a person in an hour of play than in a year of conversation.”
“Socrates?” Hawks guessed.
“Plato.”
“Holy guacamole, what are you reading in there?”
Midoriya tossed the book haphazardly onto the floor, “Philosophy, Math, Science, the occasional epic.”
“Yeesh, that sounds awful.”
The kid laughed, but this time it wasn’t cruel nor cold, “They say knowledge is power, but damn if it isn’t boring.”
“What kind of books do you like?” Hawks asked.
“Science I guess?” Midoriya said, “Anatomy is my favorite. The human body is weird.”
“Blegh, boring,” Hawks pretended to gag, earning a giggle from the kid, “I’m talking about fun books. Y’know. Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Fiction, Adventure, Thriller?”
“Can’t say I’ve ever read any of those.”
Hawks winced, “Oh you poor soul.”
“Are they good?”
“Better than anatomy.”
“ Really?” The kid asked incredulously.
Hawks' heart sank. He’d lived a pretty fucked up life, but even he’d read a fantasy book.
And suddenly, Hawks was laughing. What a tonal shift! One second the kid is trying to manipulate him, and the next they’re discussing books!
He voiced as much to the kid.
“Don’t make fun of me!” Midoriya protested indignantly, “I’ve got two sources of entertainment: Books and people! No one stays around long. They get nervous about losing their quirk. How else am I supposed to know stuff without employing some gentle coercion.”
“ Gentle coercion?”
Midoriya smiled, “I’ve made some HPSC trainees run away crying.”
“You sound proud of that.”
“It’s because I am.”
“You are one cold hearted kid.”
“Pot, Kettle.”
“How do you even know their trainees?” Hawks asked.
“Their handlers bring them in and give them the whole ‘D3K-U could destroy society as we know it’ talk, completely unaware I’m listening.” Midoriya said dryly, “People always forget to turn the mic off. Sometimes the trainees come back for a second look, like you did.”
“That sounds like some pretty lame entertainment.” Hawks admitted.
“Compared to Plato, might as well be a concert.’
“You know what a concert is?”
“I was free for four years before I got thrown in this joint,” Midorya explained, “I’m isolated, not unaware.”
“Clearly.’
“Light coercion does wonders for cerebral stimulation.”
“Yeah,” Hawks said, “You need some fantasy asap. Is there a way I could bring that in?”
Midoriya blinked, “You would do that?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Usually trainees get their talk with Deku and scurry off, never to be seen again. I-I” Midoriya paused, “Why?” He repeated.
“Jailbirds gotta be birds of a feather. Who else will look out for them?”
“I tried to manipulate you,” Midoriya pointed out.
“Eh, it’s all in the past. Answer the question. Can I bring you books?”
“I-I’m actually not sure,” Midoriya stuttered, “I’ve never had the opportunity to find out.”
“Then I’ll just find out for you.” Hawks promised, “You’re going to read Harry Potter and no one can stop me from making you.”
“Why is Harry a ceramicist?” Midorita asked.
“What now?”
“Potter.” Midoriya said, “You said Harry Potter. Why would I want to read a book about ceramics?”
“Oh, you poor, poor child.”
And that’s how Hawks ended up explaining the wonders of fantasy and fiction books for the next four hours. By the end of it, Midoriya was grinning so wide and laughing so much that if you ignored the walls, and the glass, and the 523 meters between them, he looked like a normal kid.
And Hawks couldn’t help but be happy about that.
—
The third visit, Midoriya looked at him with these wide eyes, filled with such complete shock that Hawks could feel his cold heart break.
He didn’t think Hawks would come back.
Hawks gave him the books. They talked, and he left.
As the doors shut, he could hear a faint “Thank you,” Echo over the speakers.
In a way, it was payment enough.
—
The doors opened with their now familiar screech.
Hawks began to sing his hello “Good morning sunshine-”
“Get me the next Harry Potter book.” Midoriya cut him off.
“Wow, rude much?”
Midoriya sighed, “Get me the next Harry Potter book, please.”
Hawks smiled, “Better. So I take it you like the ceramicist book then?”
“Do I like it?” Midoriya repeated, “ Do I like it?! Hawks I’ve been stuck reading anatomy textbooks and being content with that! I am in love. I would marry these books, if I could get a ring in this damn cell!”
“So I should buy the next few books then.”
“Don’t make me use my mind powers on you,” Midoriya threatened.
“I’d like to see you try.”
“So you’ll buy them then?”
“Sure, Kid,” Hawks laughed.
The first thing Hawks did when he left tartarus that day, was fly to the bookstore.
He bought the entire series and then some. Eragon, Lord of the Rings, The Martian, To Kill a Mockingbird, hell even Twilight, just to piss Midoriya off. (Which later earned him a “The hell is this? You call this literature? It’s awful! I can’t believe you got me this . . . . buy me the next one. ”)
Midoriya didn’t know what was about to hit him.
—
It became a regular thing.
Hawks would drop by at least once a week, twice or thrice if he could afford it. He brought as many books as he could with him, and even found out a way he could get food delivered to the kid.
(It required a lot of finagling and time but he got it done. It was worth it to see Midoriya shed literal tears after eating a donut for the first time in years.)
They became close. Y’Know what they say. Birds of a feather flock together.
Hawks was brought there because of curiosity, but he stayed because of Midoriya. Having someone who understood - firsthand - what the HPSC did behind the scenes, someone he could be honest with, was nice. Comforting, even.
It was almost like having a family again.
Even then, Izuku still called him Jailbird. It wasn’t malicious anymore, more sad, if Hawks had to pick a word. Neither Midoriya nor Hawks had the luxury to ignore their situation. They were both inmates, just to a different kind of prison.
“Why don’t they just kill you?”
Midoriya looked up from his book “Why do you ask?”
Hawks shrugged, “I’ve been trying to piece it together. If you’re such a big threat, why don’t they just kill you? It takes care of the issue.”
“You almost sound like you want me dead,” Midoriya joked.
“It would certainly spare my wallet some pain.”
Midoriya rolled his eyes, “It can’t be that bad.”
“Kid, you read through two inch thick books on the daily. It adds up.”
Midoriya huffed, “Fine. You have a point.” He put his book down and leaned forward, a smile on his lips, “Come on Hawks, you can figure this out. You didn’t become the HPSC posterboy for your quirk alone.”
“It just doesn’t make sense. You could destroy society as we know it, yada yada yada, dramatic speech. Why not just make sure you don’t, permanently.”
“Hawks, what do you and I have in common?”
Hawks tilted his head, “Stunning good looks?”
Midoriya sighed, “You idiot.”
“Oh sorry, that one only applies to me.”
“Our quirks!” Midoriya shouted in frustration, “We both are extremely dangerous, except you can control your power. You’re a gun and I’m a beaker full of nitroglycerine. Both are dangerous, but one is easy to use and the other you want to contain.”
“Then why not dispose of the nitroglycerin?”
“Hawks, imagine if the HPSC could control my power,” Midoriya said, “Imagine they could take away quirks at will, not just suppress them like they do in tartarus.”
Pieces started falling into place “They’d have complete control.”
“Precisely. So they look at that beaker of nitroglycerin, and they think ‘now this is dangerous, but if I find a way to use it, it’s another weapon to add to my arsenal’” Izuku rolled up his sleeve, revealing a multitude of scars, some cuts still healing.
“What-?”
“Experiments,” Midoriya cut him off, “Samples. They’re trying to isolate my quirk factor. Turn me into a weapon. They’re keeping me around until they find a way to use me. I’m both a gift and a curse wrapped up in one fun sized package.”
“Why don’t they send prisoners in here to get their quirks removed?” Hawks asked.
Midoriya picked his book back up, “Too risky. They tried it once, when I was six. The prisoner was volatile and ended up destroying a good portion of my cell. They haven't tried it since.”
“Huh,” Hawks said dumbly, then, “Have you ever tried tiramisu?”
“Tiarra what now?”
“Oh I am so bringing that in next time.”
—
“What do you think you’re doing?” His handler demanded.
“You are going to have to specify.” Hawks picked at a nail.
His handler slapped his hand away, “You know what I’m talking about. D3K-U. You’ve been seeing him regularly for the past six months and have somehow kept it away from my attention.”
“Maybe the guards just forgot to mention it?”
His handler kneed him in the stomach, downing him. Hawks let them do it.
“Don’t think just because you’re a hero now that you’re not still a HPSC soldier. Remember your place.” She spat.
“Sorry Ma’am.” He muttered, head bowed in submission.
“Now tell me what you’re doing around D3K-U, before I make you.”
Hawks looked up at her, “Ma’am, If I am meant to subdue and potentially kill him, I think I should know my target. The files on him only describe his quirk and physical appearance. I need to know how he thinks.”
“You’ve been bringing it books, and donuts!”
Ah shit, she found out about that.
“I’m gaining his trust.” Hawks explained, “He’s twelve, he’s easily impressionable. I can use that against him should he ever escape. You know how easy it is to manipulate someone when they trust you, don’t you?”
His handler laughed, “You’re a real monster, you know that?”
“I learned from the best.”
His handler bent down beside him, “I will let this continue,” she hissed into his ear, “but you step out of line, then you will be reminded that guns can be replaced. We keep you alive because you’re useful. Don’t step outside your shackles, Jailbird. ”
Hawks’ eyes snapped to her own in surprise.
She smirked.
Oh god, she was listening.
—
Midoriya, as it turned out, liked tiramisu.
Like a lot.
He’d never had coffee before, and found he loved it. From then on, Hawks brought him coffee every time he visited.
Midoriya bounced around his cell, laughing as he did so, “Did you know that there are twenty four muscles in the arm?”
“No.” he replied, “Why?”
“Because there’s a really easy way to remember that,” Midoriya pointed to his upper arm, “Four,” he pointed to his forearm, “twenty.”
“Oh my god,” Hawks groaned, “You are such a child.”
“I am a child.”
Hawks shook his head, “This is why I shouldn’t give you caffeine.”
Midoriya laughed.
—
“Do you ever think about escaping, Jailbird?” Midoriya asked.
Hawks scoffed, “Escape what exactly?”
“You know,” Midoriya said, “the HPSC.”
“That begs the question of what freedom is. Is it not working for them? Fleeing japan? Dying? I can’t just say ‘I quit’ and pretend I’m free.”
“Whatever it means for you.” Midoriya said.
“What about you?” he asked in lue of answering, “You ever want to escape.”
“Obviously.” Midoriya replied, “It’s not like I’m living the dream here.”
“What’s freedom for you?”
Midoriya leaned back in his bed, thinking for a moment.
“When I was little my mom would take me to the beach.” he said, “I would stand, toes in the sand, water rushing up to my ankles, and we would watch the sunset. I never liked the sunset, it meant the day was over. I loved the sunrise though, it meant the day was just starting. I was never awake for it though.
One day, my mom woke me up really early. So early I could only see the silhouette of buildings against the paling sky. We went down to the beach, stood in the icy water, and watched the sun rise. That’s freedom. That right there,” Midoriya reached out in front of him and mimed grasping something, “The wind in my hair, the sound of the waves, the sun cresting over the horizon. Just- being able to do that. That’s freedom.”
“Do you miss her?”
Midoriya nodded, “Everyday. She’s barely a whisper in the back of my mind now. I can’t even remember her face. But I remember that I loved her.”
For a moment, Hawks pretended that there was no wall, no glass, no 523 meters between them. That he was sitting on the foot of Midoriya’s bed, that he could lean down and hug him. But there was glass and wall and space between them, and Hawks couldn’t.
He did the next best thing.
He was honest.
“I dreamed about it a lot. I still do. I imagine never being a hero, sitting at home, watching TV without a care in the world. Working some nine to five job, kicking off my shoes and knowing I’d have to do it all again tomorrow. Or knowing I could just quit and find another job. Not caring, that’s freedom.”
“Why don’t you try to escape then?”
“Why don’t you?”
Silence hung between them, heavy and damning. Like a noose around their throats.
“‘The only real prison is fear, and the only real freedom is freedom from fear’,” Midoriya recited, then laughed “What a load of bullshit.”
—
A slip of paper was slid across the mahogany desk. It was almost like a business card, except you never wanted yours to be handed to someone. A single name was written in bold, black print.
Hawks looked down at it with distaste, “I’m not an assassin.”
His handler looked down at him, “You’re a soldier. Soldiers take orders. I want this done by friday.”
He ducked his head, “Yes ma’am.”
His handler stood and made her way to the door. She paused as she passed him, leaning down to whisper, “You’re on thin fucking ice.”
Hawks felt a bead of sweat roll down his face.
—
The visits did not stop. He’d been visiting for over a year, he wasn’t going to stop now.
Hawks was terrified, no point in denying it. Absolutely terrified. He could lose everything. But then again, what did he really have to lose in the first place?
“I had to kill someone again.”
Midoriya threw his book down immediately, “are you okay?”
Hawks laughed an empty laugh, “am I okay? I’m fucking peachy. The man I killed is not. In case you don’t know what ‘killed’ means, he’s dead. I stabbed him through the heart with my flight feather.” Hawks buried his face in his knees, “I’m a monster.”
“Hey!” Midoriya’s voice boomed over the speaker, “Look at me asshole! Not through the screen, look at me, right in my eyes.”
Hawks lifted his head, searching out Midoriya’s form. It was so small compared to the rest of the room. He was like an ant. Still, he could pick out his eyes. They were spring green, like blades of grass.
“You are not a monster.” Midoriya said resolutely, “I was an idiot for ever saying that. You hear? You never chose this.”
“But I still did it.”
“You didn’t have a choice.”
“There’s always a choice.”
“No there isn’t!” Midoriya yelled, “Look at me! Do I have the choice to leave! No! Jailbird, you’re not a monster. You’re like me, caged. You’re not innocent and I can’t pretend that you are, but you're not guilty either. They will kill you if you don’t comply. That’s not freedom to choose. You can’t defy them and let them kill you, okay?”
“And? It’d just be another kill to add to my list,” Hawks snapped back, “I should just do it myself. Make it faster. If I can’t escape except for one way, I might as well be free. There’s liberty in death.”
“Damn it Hawks!” Midoriya threw something across his room, it was too far to see what, “let me be selfish! You may not care if you die, but I do! I-I- I’ve never had someone care about me . I’ve never cared about anyone else!” he let out a scream of fury, tearing at his hair, “Don’t you do this to me! I can’t do anything to stop you but yell and scream inside my fucking cell. You can’t escape while I stay trapped! You can’t leave me!”
Midoriya banged at his glass walls, “Don’t leave me!” he slid down the walls, “don’t leave me,” he whispered, “ don’t leave me.” he sobbed.
He cried and cried, a shuddering, wailing wreck, 523 meters away. For once, he acted his age, breaking down into tears, crying and screaming because he couldn’t do anything else.
Hawks leaned into the mic, “Hey hey,” he comforted, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to leave you, I-” a sob caught in the back of his throat, he swallowed it back down, “I’m not going anywhere. We’re Jailbirds. We can’t fly away without each other. You know? Birds of a feather,”
“Flock together,” Midoriya finished, “Damn it Hawks. If you escape without me you bet you feathery little ass I’m coming right after you. I’m not letting you rest in peace without screaming at you first.”
“I’m not leaving,” he promised, “I’m not leaving.”
Midoriya chuckled wetly, “Even birds are chained to the sky.”
“I love you.” Hawks whispered.
“Damn it all,” Midoriya muttered, “I love you too.”
—
And so they continued to talk. As much as Hawks had the time to. Every waking moment Hawks wasn’t working, he was with Midoriya.
The years passed by, one, two, three. Like water between fingers, it slipped away without their control.
Somedays, Hawks could forget the walls. They could laugh and joke like they were real brothers, like they were meeting up in a cafe somewhere, discussing their lives. Like they were normal.
Somedays, they cried, they mourned, they felt the wait of their shackles and they were all too aware of their glass cages.
Somedays, Hawks begged to be free in death, Somedays Midoriya admitted to planning to do it. Not one day did the other not talk them back down. Not one day did they go through.
They had each other, though separated by walls and doors, they had each other. Brothers in everything except names. Jailbirds, chained to the same nest.
They both lived under the threat of extermination. One day either of them could be determined useless, and they would be killed. There never was a day without the threat of death hanging over them like a noose. Not one day did they forget.
They knew it was dangerous, but they let themselves love. Be vulnerable by having family, something that the HPSC could use to manipulate either of them. In a way, they used this to their advantage. It was made clear by eavesdropped on talks that if one was to be killed, both would die.
It was a morbid sort of brothership. Hawks loved every second of it.
—
“Did you see the sunrise today?” Midoriya asked. He asked often enough. To the point it had almost become tradition.
“Yeah,” Hawks would never admit it, but he always got up early just to watch it. He appreciated the little freedom he had, and he tried to share it with Midoriya.
“Describe it for me.”
Hawks smiled, “It was pretty today. For a minute, it stopped the usual dark to light, and spat a brilliant red across the horizon. Like the sky was bleeding.”
Midoriya hummed contently.
“There was a gentle wind,” Hawks continued, “It was cool, and carried water vapor with it, so by the time the sunrise was over, I was covered in morning dew. Like little diamonds all over my wings.”
“Any clouds?”
“Yep, three long ones, right above the skyline.”
“What do clouds feel like?” Midoriya asked. He knew the answer, he’d asked a million times.
“Wet.” hawks replied bluntly.
“You always say that.” Midoriya complained.
“Because it’s true.”
“Use more descriptive words!”
“Fine,” Hawks grumbled, “They feel very wet.”
“Very funny.”
“I try, Jailbird.”
—
When All for One was put into prison, Hawks was worried.
His brother lived there! And he was trapped with some weird, hundreds of years old, mass murdering psychopath. Well, actually that wasn’t so new. Tartarus was full of weird, mass murdering psychopaths. The hundreds of years old thing was a new addition though.
What did worry him was how All for One would react if he found out about Midoriya. A guy whose power revolved around owning quirks would probably try to eliminate someone who actively destroyed them. Not that he doubted Tartarus's security, but he couldn’t help but worry.
That’s what love did to you. It made you weak.
Hawks didn’t care.
“If he breaks out,” he started.
“I know!” Izuku complained, “Run towards him!”
“What?!” Hawks exclaimed, “No! Run away! That’s a stupid idea!”
“I’m not a fast runner, Hawks. If he wants to kill me he will. The best thing I can do is try to take his quirks out before he gets to me.”
“Why do you have to be smart?” Hawks lamented.
“Had nothing else to do in here other than read books. Have you ever read Sun Tzu’s The Art of War? I have. Five times.”
“Just let me be worried about you, asshole!”
“I’m just saying!” Midoriya protested, “He won’t be paying attention. It’ll be the perfect time to strike! In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity!”
“No, young man! You will not attack the supervillain!”
“Watch me!”
“No!”
—
“The quirkener?”
“Midoriya, no.”
‘Midoriya, yes. Eraserfoot, the underground villain!”
“You’re so bad at this.”
“You try! Making villain names is hard!”
“I will not participate in this. You’ve been going for twenty minutes.”
“Square Zero?”
“No.”
“Quirkless King?”
“ No.”
“Quirk Thief!”
“Shut up, you’re literally so annoying!”
“You could say I’ve got a quirky personality.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
—
“I love you.”
It was whispered so quietly you had to be actively listening to hear it.
Hawks had killed again. He sat, curled up in the corner of the control room, holding back tears.
“You shouldn't.” he whispered back.
“Well I do,” Midoriya replied.
And Hawks let himself cry.
—
Oh god, oh god, oh god.
It was actually happening. All for One escaped.
Hawks flew above the wreckage that was tartarus. The ratatatatat of gunshot sounded over the crumbling facility. Plumes of large smoke rose from the buildings. He could see robots and guards swarming over the premises, trying and failing to detain as many villains as they could.
They were losing.
They were dying.
Hawks searched for Midoriya. His cell had also been destroyed and he’d found the glass room shattered and empty. Midoriya was out there. He hoped to god that he was okay, that he was running away.
Flame covered the battlefield, rising in large swaths, and Casting tartarus in a hell-like glow. It was night, the only light coming from the moon, the fire, and the stars.
He needed to find his brother.
Down below, he heard a shriek of “Why isn’t it working?!”
All around the area, exclamations of panic went up.
‘It’s gone! It’s gone!’
‘It’s All for one!’
‘My quirk’s gone! Oh god oh god!’
‘D3K-U escaped!’
‘It’s out!’
Midoriya!
Hawks flew towards the direction of the voices. He searched the smoldering landscape.
There!
Right there!
Hawks latched onto the sight, fixating onto it like he was a ship on stormy sea and Midoriya was a lighthouse.
There, right there, in the midst of the chaos, was Midoiya. Green hair sticking out like a sore thumb.
He was running away. Hawks could cry tears of relief. He was running away!
And Hawks had a duty to do.
Was raised to do.
Trained to do.
Ever since, at sixteen, he saw a boy in a glass cage and was told to achieve perfection.
Hawks knew what he was supposed to do. He was supposed to kill Midoriya. But,
He could pretend he never saw him.
Say he was preoccupied trying to save Tartarus guards. Say he tried but couldn’t find him. Say he faltered and failed. He would get beat black and blue, but what was a few broken bones if he let his brother have a chance at freedom?
So Hawks turned a blind eye.
Or he tried to.
But then, from the corner of his eye, he saw a Tartarus guard. Well inside Midoriya’s range, the soldier was clad in all black, hidden well among the rubble.
He had a gun.
And he loaded it,
and he aimed it at Midoriya.
Hawks had never made an easier choice.
He dived.
He flew like an arrow loosed from a bow, fast as a bolt of lightning. Not to fight or to kill, but to protect.
Please let him be fast enough.
Hawks could feel his quirk start to slip away from him as soon as he entered Midoriya’s range, could feel every feather fall from his control and slip away into the wind, could feel his only worth die.
Please.
He didn’t care.
Please!
He crashed to the ground in a plume of dust, just as a thundering CRACK rang through the air.
Sharp, burning pain erupted from his sternum.
It hurt worse than anything he’d ever felt.
But he couldn’t find it in himself to care, because there, between his arms, covered in fallen feathers and splattered with blood, was Midoriya. And he was safe.
His brother was safe.
That was the only thing that mattered.
Green eyes widened in horror.
“No,” Midoriya whispered, “No no no no no!”
“Hey, little jailbird.” Hawks whispered hoarsely.
Midoriya pressed a hand to his chest, his fingers coming away soaked with blood.
Hawks coughed, blood splattering across his lips and a few droplets hitting Midoriya.
“Sorry,” he tried to laugh, but more blood came out with it, “Damn.”
A flight feather fell from his back, sharp edge gleaming in the firelight.
“Your quirk, oh god your quirk,” Midoriya muttered, “oh god they’re going to kill you. They’re going to kill you once they find out. Why would you do that?! Why on earth would you do that, you idiot!”
Hawks slumped down onto Midoriya, his strength steadily leaving him, “It was an easy enough choice to make.”
“You asshole! You fucking asshole!” Midoriya screamed, “You said you wouldn’t leave! You said you wouldn’t fucking leave me! Don’t you dare!”
“Sorry kid,” He smiled a bloody smile, eyes closing, crinkled around the edges, “promises are meant to be broken.”
“Imprisonment was meant to be my villain backstory! Not you dying!” Midoriya scrambled to put pressure on the wound, but the blood kept pouring through his fingers, “Come on, come on. You’ve been through worse. You’ve got this. Don’t you fucking ruin my villain backstory! I spent so much time planning it!”
“I know,” Hawks said, “I know, but you see-” he coughed, “I’m an asshole, and I wanted my own separate chapter in your book.”
“I won’t forgive you,” tears were pouring from Midoriya’s eyes, cutting paths through soot stained cheeks, “I’m never going to forgive you if you die.”
Hawks felt exhaustion start to cling to him, weighing him down. He would be dead soon.
He would be free soon.
The sky was paling. The sun would rise soon.
“Izuku,” he whispered, immediately drawing Midoriya’s attention. It was the first time he’d called him that.
“I- I’m sorry, but can I be selfish one last time?” he asked.
“If it means you’ll stay alive then you can be as selfish as you want,” Midoriya kept pressing down on the wound, “ You just have to stay. ”
“Hug me,” Hawks said, tears stinging at his eyes, threatening to spill over.
“Now’s not the time to joke around Hawks. We need to get you help-”
“Damn it! Hug me Izuku!” He snapped.
And for a moment Midoriya was still. Then slowly, he gathered Hawks in his arms, and held him tight. Tight like he was the only thing in the world worth holding on to. Tight like he might slip away at any second. Hawks brought his arms around Izuku in a grip that grew weaker and weaker with each beat of his heart.
It was awkward, and wet, and too hot, but it was perfect.
“Oh,” Hawks whispered, “This is how it feels.”
“Don’t die,” Midoriya begged into his shoulder, “You promised you wouldn’t die, Hawks.”
“Keigo,” he said, “Takami Keigo.”
“You’re not allowed to die Keigo,” Midoriya commanded weakly, “You still have to buy me books, you still have to bring me desserts to taste and tell me about how your life sucks. You're supposed to let me talk you down! You’re not supposed to die! Not without me!”
And there, safe in his brother’s arms, Keigo thought, this isn’t so bad.
“You have to live, Keigo. Who’s going to visit me on free days?” Midoriya asked, “Who’s going to tell me my book choices suck? Who’s going to tell me that clouds feel wet?” Mirodiya sobbed, “Who’s going to describe the sunrises?”
Keigo lifted a weak arm and pointed to the horizon, where the sun was peaking above the skyline.
“You won’t need me too,” he whispered.
he felt himself start to slip away, and he let the tide of death pull him out to sea.
He breathed in, chest rising, then he breathed out.
He let himself fly, finally free.
His chest fell, and it did not rise again.
Midoriya clutched Keigo’s body, “Keigo?” he asked.
He didn’t get a response.
Midoriya shook him, “ Keigo?!”
The body didn’t stir, didn’t crack a joke or make a jab at him. No comfort, no softly spoken words, nothing.
He was dead.
His brother was dead.
Midoriya screamed.
After an what felt like an eternity, Midoriya titled his head to the sky.
It was fading from dark purple to light blue. Around the horizon, there was a thin line of cerulean that rested just below the burning sun.
“The sunrise is pretty today Keigo,” Midoriya said, hugging the bloody body closer, “It wasn’t red like you liked. Sorry. But it’s blue, like the cover of that new book you bought me. The brightest blue is at the very bottom, lining the sky with electric blue. Almost like it's crying.”
Midoriya picked up a bright red flight.
The sun caught on its sharp edge.
“There is no breeze. Just still air. Not a cloud in sight.”
Midoriya raised the feather to his throat.
“You would’ve liked that.” he chuckled, “You wouldn’t get wet on patrol today.”
The sun had risen fully above the horizon.
It was his first sunrise in eleven years.
Fire and smoke rose into the sky. Somewhere, far in the distance, Midoriya could hear birdsong.
“It’s a beautiful day.”
Midoriya drove the feather down.