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The first time someone stumbles over their own feet and almost lands in front of a car, saved by a red feather hooked into the back of their shirt, Keigo smiles as he walks past, thinking nothing of it.
The second time it happens, when a child’s balloon that starts to float to the horizon is saved by yet another feather, Keigo thinks, I’m on holiday. It’s followed by a voice, deeper than his own, mumbling in his head, “Not our jurisdiction.”
The third time it happens, after a feather zips by and rescues an elderly lady’s keys that dropped from a window, that very same voice says, directly into his ear after Touya leans close enough for his lips to brush the shell of Keigo’s ear, “This isn’t our jurisdiction, birdie.”
Keigo purses his lips, calling back his feathers, letting his wings snap tightly against his back. “You saying I should let the next person get run over by a car?” He turns his head, looks up, squints first against the bright glare of the sun, then the brighter glare directed at him from blue eyes. “That’s not very heroic of you, Dabi.”
“I’m saying you should let the heroes patrolling the area do their fucking job, Hawks.” Touya arches an eyebrow, a devastating expression on his equally devastating face, and digs his sharp elbow into Keigo’s side. “While you enjoy your time off. Wasn’t the whole point of traveling halfway across the country to get away from work?”
Touya’s got a point.
If they had stayed home, in their shared apartment in Fukuoka, after Keigo and Touya miraculously managed to get time off on the same days – which Keigo suspects is something he has to thank Endeavor for; despite his and Touya’s more than difficult relationship, he’s never been able to say no to his eldest child after Rei punched him in the face (figuratively, and literally) – they most likely wouldn’t have been able to actually enjoy their time away from work.
Some parts of the city never sleep, and crime doesn’t take time off either. Eventually, someone wouldn’t have been able to manage a job or three, and they would’ve contacted either Keigo, Touya, or both of them at the same time.
Traveling thirteen hours to the other side of Japan by train for this had been worth it. The time would’ve been shortened by a bunch of Keigo had flown them, but he does treasure and love his wings very much, and crash landing after getting them burned off by his boyfriend, followed by them landing in the news, isn’t something Keigo wants to live through, thank you very much. Sitting in a train is not on his list of favorite activities, since the cars are too small for his wings at full size and there’s too much noise, but having Touya next to him, his head on Keigo’s shoulder, fingers between his own, had made it a lot more bearable.
“I can’t help helping people,” Keigo mutters, not wanting to admit that Touya is right. Every time he does do that, Touya turns into the most insufferable man to walk the planet – it’s cute and irritating in equal amounts, and nothing Keigo can deal with in public.
“Such a hero,” Touya replies, mouth twitching into a horribly distracting smile.
Discarding his eyes, and ignoring the knowing snort that follows, Keigo tries to recall what they’d been talking about a second ago. Helping people, being on vacation (Keigo, secretly, is very giddy – he’s on vacation with Touya), things they can do in Shinjuku.
“We can visit landmarks,” he says, pulling out his phone and checking the map he opened earlier. “We’re not too far into the center to make traveling by foot impossible, and the weather is nice enough for it.”
“Good idea.” Touya checks his own phone, grimacing at the screen. “Natsu says we should take a picture with Godzilla’s head in Kabukicho.”
“With Godzilla or of Godzilla?”
“Ja,” Touya says, stuffing his phone back into his pocket.
Keigo huffs lightly. “Okay, done,” he says, pocketing his device as well. “Anything else?”
“Shou wants a video of the 3D cat by the station, Fuyumi wants us to visit the national garden, and mom just wants to see everything; pictures of where we’re going, pictures of us, a lot of pictures of you.”
“Me?” Keigo points at himself, sending a look over his shoulder as if there’s a chance Touya could possibly be addressing someone else. “Your mom wants pics of me?” When Touya nods, Keigo can’t help but coo. “Aw, I’m her favorite child.”
He regrets those words about two point three seconds after they’ve left him. By the look on Touya’s face – a very hilarious and interesting mix of pure disgust and shock – he feels the very same.
“Don’t fucking say shit like that ever again,” he says. “You are one of her favorite people, no need to make it weird.”
“Yeah, no, agreed.” Keigo spreads his arms wide. He throws an apologetic look to the side when he almost knocks a man down. “Hey, you wanna know what another, very important landmark of Shinjuku is? KFC.” He nods. “Which is our next stop, conveniently, since I’m starving and it’s literally right around the block. And I was starting to miss chicken. I can’t remember the last time I had some.”
“Birdie.” Touya stops them in the middle of the sidewalk, promptly causing everyone around them to grumble and move out of the way before they all collide with each other. Warm hands find Keigo’s shoulders. “What the fuck are you even talking about? You just had KFC before we left Fukuoka.”
“Sure did,” Keigo answers, raising a finger, “but you fail to understand that that was, like, one thousand kilometers ago. In food-time, that’s a lot. Too long to go without it, really.”
“That literally makes no fucking sense.”
“True love doesn’t have to make sense to be real, hot stuff. You wouldn’t get it.”
The look Touya throws his way is perhaps a little inappropriate for a public place – it’s heated in a way that makes the tips of Keigo’s feathers shiver, heavy and knowing. Or, well, it would be inappropriate if they were normal people, which they definitely aren’t. “Nah,” Touya says, his voice nothing but a sinful rasp that momentarily disables every single function of Keigo’s brain, “I think I get it just fine.”
Oh.
Oh, wow, that. Alright. Keigo does not know how he’s supposed to digest all that, but he’s got to do it one way or another. First, though, he ducks his head as he feels his cheeks pool with warmth that has nothing to do with the sun or Touya’s body temperature, heart fluttering in his chest.
You’d think after years of being together, of throwing all kinds of things at each other’s heads and doing everything under the moon to and with each other, Keigo would have gotten used to Touya being blunt and shy with his feelings at the same time, but here he is. As flustered as he had been the first time it happened, all those years ago on the rooftop of their high school as if they had jumped out of a cheap drama or three.
A warm, scaldingly hot knuckle brushes the underside of his chin, pushing his mouth closed gently. “Careful,” Touya mumbles, his deep voice nothing but a rasp, “you’ll catch flies if you keep that open like that.”
“Mhm.” Keigo’s eyes drop to Touya’s mouth before they meet his gaze. “Flies are protein rich, actually, did you know that? I’ll get enough energy out of it to last me until we reach the KFC.”
Touya stares at Keigo for one, two seconds, almost as if he expects Keigo to grow another head out of thin air after awakening a secondary Quirk. Then he closes his eyes, turns his face to the sky, and just stands like that for a moment.
And Keigo is helpless to do anything but watch, feeling like a moth caught in Touya’s radiance, doomed to do nothing but follow his glow for the rest of his life.
A long sigh brings him out of his thoughts.
“Wanna know what you are, birdie? Once we pull you apart layer after layer like an onion, all that’s left,” Touya reaches out and pokes Keigo’s stomach with one of his weirdly pointy fingers, “is a black hole, because what the fuck.”
Keigo purses his lips with a huff. “Don’t be annoying. I’m a growing boy, Touya, I need food to function.”
Touya snorts. “You’re fucking insatiable, is what you are.”
“Well,” Keigo says, wings puffing up out of their own accord, “you’d know a thing or two about that–”
Touya promptly pushes his entire palm on Keigo’s face and uses it to push Keigo’s head away. Unfortunately for his boyfriend, Keigo has no qualms about fighting dirty (and Touya really has no one but himself to blame for this) and as such opens his mouth to lick all over the palm covering his face.
It does the job – Touya removes his hand, but not without a cat-like hiss. “You,” he says, holding his arm to his chest as if he’s gravely injured, eyes wide, “are fucking nasty.”
“Well,” Keigo says again, “you’d know about that, wouldn’t you?”
“Know what? I changed my fucking mind,” Touya says, as if Keigo has any idea what he could possibly mean by that. The look he receives is sharp, a little cutting. “I’m dumping your feathered ass.”
Keigo can’t help it: he gasps.
“Absolutely not,” he says, dislodging Touya’s one-handed grip on his shoulder. He walks them one, two steps until he can push Touya up against the nearest wall, to the disgruntlement of a middle aged man who walks by. He gives them a dirty look and Keigo gives a dirtier look back before snapping his wings open and shielding them from everyone else. “Hot stuff. Touya. Touya. You cannot break up with me close to a KFC.” He shakes his head to clarify just how wrong the thought alone is. “That’s, like, gotta be some sort of blasphemy.”
“No, it isn’t. That’s not how–KFC is nothing sacred.”
“Maybe not to you.”
“Kei.” Touya gives him a frown, one of those severe expressions all of the Todoroki’s – sans Endeavor – share. It makes him look ridiculously pretty. Keigo thinks that’s a little unfair since all of them, especially Touya, are already insanely gorgeous. Warm fingers grab Keigo’s cheeks, push them together. “That’s egregiously wrong.”
Through his squished mouth, Keigo manages to say, "Egregiously? Wow, Touya-chan, you are such a rich boy.”
Keigo almost stumbles over his own feet when Touya pushes him to the side. “You,” his boyfriend says, “are literally rich, too.”
“Sure, sure.” Keigo shrugs with a grin. “But there’s a difference between becoming rich and growing up rich. You talk like a proper rich guy who got rich, proper lessons during his formative years.”
“We literally went to the same school.”
“Excuses, excuses.”
Touya opens his mouth, eyebrows pulled together, no doubt to say something rude back, when there’s a sudden yell close by. Keigo and Touya look at each other, come to a decision, and round the upcoming corner at the same time, only to stop almost immediately again.
What had initially sounded like a call of distress and panic, something someone would let out when faced with danger in the form of another civilian or Villain, has come from a guy. A guy that happens to be a lot taller than both Keigo and Touya. A guy who’s facing another guy, right in front of the KFC that Keigo had wanted to visit.
Keigo and Touya seem to come to another silent agreement and plaster themselves to the wall, eyes on said KFC, and the guys across the street. The spot they’re standing in is perfect for keeping watch on what’s happening – the only point where one’s sight is not obscured by the trees lining the streets or cars parked on the side, and where you have the perfect sight.
“That’s not what I was asking!” One of the guys, who happens to have a wild head of white hair, says. “I thought we weren’t allowed to do any of that when there’s no point to it!”
The other guy is equally tall (and Keigo has a moment to think that, clearly, people in Shinjuku are just fundamentally built differently), and has long dark hair. He doesn’t seem to be as affected as the other one. “But there is a point,” he replies, voice even. “Even a great cause.”
“But there isn’t! You’re going to do all of that, and for what? What you want is impossible!” The white haired one waves around his arms, voice breaking as he continues, “There’s no point in chipping away bit by bit at something you can’t possibly do!”
“How arrogant.”
“Huh?”
“You could do it, couldn’t you, Satoru?”
“The fuck,” Touya says, his shoulder pressing more into Keigo’s, “are they talking about?”
Keigo, whose head moves back and forth between the two strangers fighting in front of the KFC, shrugs. “I have absolutely no idea.”
The dark haired one turns to the white haired guy – Satoru, apparently. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his loose pants, chin jutting up. “Are you the strongest because you’re Gojō Satoru? Or does being the strongest make you Gojō Satoru?”
“Holy shit.” Touya lets out a quiet snort, and Keigo almost wants to cover his mouth to avoid them being discovered. “Are those guys LARPing?”
“What the fuck is LARPing?”
Satoru looks as if he’s been slapped. “What are you trying to say?”
Excellent question, Keigo thinks, since not a single thing those two are saying makes even a little bit of sense. Usually, when you eavesdrop on a conversation when it’s already ongoing, you’ll be able to pick up on hints here and there to build your own picture, quickly figure out what’s going on. Making sense of just about anything, no matter how small the information given is, is something Keigo has been trained in for years, and he still cannot figure out what these guys are saying.
He cannot decide if it’s impressive or disturbing or if he wants to blame this on some sort of Quirk usage.
“If I were to become you,” the dark haired one says, “this foolish ideal of mine would become a lot more grounded and real, don’t you think?”
“Ouch, that’s harsh,” Touya comments lowly. “At least say shit like that at home, have some manners.”
“You know that’s funny coming from you, right?”
Touya elbows Keigo. “Sure, I might be a fucking dick every now and then, but at least I know that arguments like that,” he nods to the two guys across the street the very second Satoru’s face seems to crack and crumble, pain visible to Keigo even from all the way where they’re standing, “aren’t anyone’s business but ours. Even if I have no clue what these guys have going on in the first place.”
Keigo purses his lips. “Think they’re breaking up or something?”
“I’ve decided how I’ll live my life.”
“Oh, shit,” Touya says, “I think they might.”
With that, he shoves a hand into his pocket, pulls out his phone and opens his camera to press record on a new video. The screen very clearly captures both of the guys in high definition.
Keigo is one hundred percent sure that he should stop Touya with more than just words (“You can’t just film a couple breaking up, hot stuff”, “Literally says who?”), but, well. He’s always been a little defenseless when Touya does something mildly evil.
When Keigo looks back to the couple-maybe-not-couple across the street, the dark haired one is in the middle of turning around. Satoru’s face is a grimace that screams pain and heartbreak, and Keigo feels bad for the guy, really. Or, that is until Satoru raises his hands and does some sort of–yeah, no, Keigo has no clue what the fuck this guy is doing now.
He’s holding up his hands, one with fingers spread and close to his face, the other one about thirty centimeters away from it with his middle finger and thumb curled towards one another, almost as if he’s about to flick something in his boyfriend-maybe-ex-boyfriend’s direction.
Keigo’s head tips to the side. Is this guy trying to use his Quirk or something? IN the middle of the somewhat busy crowd in front of a KFC? Talk about bad timing.
“If you want to kill me, then kill me.” Keigo and Touya turn to each other, eyebrows raised. “There would be a point to that.”
“How come you never say stuff like that to me?”
Touya’s knuckles knock into Keigo’s forehead, not hard enough to hurt, but with enough pressure to be felt. “Because I’m not completely deranged, and getting killed by you–” He cuts himself off, pursing his lips. “Actually,” he then says, phone still pointed at the now lonely guy standing in front of KFC because Touya is a terrible, terrible man, “maybe that guy’s got a point. You trying to kill me would be kind of hot.”
“Not as hot as you trying to kill me.”
“Stop flirting with me,” Touya says, “I have a boyfriend.”
Keigo lets out a quiet chuckle, leaning more into Touya’s side as he turns his head back to watch the other side of the street. The dark haired guy has long vanished by now, he’s disappeared into the crowd as if he’s never been there to begin with, the only evidence of his presence being what he left behind.
“Suguru..” Satoru appears a little unstable on his feet, almost as if he’s about ot–the guy unceremoniously drops to his knees in the middle of the walkway, seemingly uncaring for the amount of dirt gathered on it, or the passerby’s he’s inconveniencing by literally kneeling in the middle of the fucking walkway.
“Oh, my God,” Keigo says, bringing up a hand to shield his eyes. “I can’t watch this.”
Despite him saying this, he spreads his fingers apart enough to keep an eye on the.. what? single man? freshly single man? as curiosity gets the better of him.
“Too bad,” Touya says, bracing his forearm on Keigo’s shoulder and using his free hand to push Keigo’s down again, “because I can. And I will. What an absolute loser.”
The man who cries every time a rerun of Mewtwo Strikes Back airs on TV doesn’t really have any right to call someone else a loser, but Keigo is deeply in love with said loser, so he keeps that to himself as the white haired man – the one on his knees, not his one – lets out a wail. Like, an actual one. High pitched, loud, kinda like the sound a cat makes when you step on its tail.
It’s not a very pretty sound.
Touya puts his elbow into Keigo’s side again. “Hey, hero,” he says, “don’t feel compelled to do what you do best and help people?”
“Nah,” Keigo says as his wing comes up to smack the back of Touya’s head, almost causing his boyfriend to drop his phone. “Haven’t you heard? Shinjuku does not belong to my jurisdiction.”
“Old dogs are capable of learning new tricks, then.”
“You’re older than me.”
“Age is just a number, birdie.”
On the other side of the street, the doors to the KFC get pushed open and someone clad in the worker’s uniform steps into the sunlight. They slowly approach the crumbled, very pathetic looking form of Satoru, hesitantly putting a hand to his shoulder. Their mouth moves, but Keigo doesn’t feel like eavesdropping more than he already has, not even when Satoru shakes his head and gives an answer.
A few more words are exchanged before Satoru pushes himself to his feet, waves off whatever the worker is saying, and then walks off into the other direction that the other guy – Suguru, apparently – disappeared into.
After a second, Touya ends his video and pockets his phone once more. His shoulder bumps into Keigo’s own. “Know what?” Touya says then, “I think I changed my mind. KFC is not even that bad.”