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It comes as a surprise when a shot rings out over the crime scene, heroes whip around at the grunt of pain, watching the villain, half uncuffed, fall to his knees as blood pools around his left knee. The man raises a hand, Hawks reaches for one of his feathers defensively, and another shot rings out, piercing the villain’s palm completely through. The man wails and hugs his holey hand to his chest protectively.
Officers look for the source of the shooting, Eraserhead peers around cautiously, Hawks zeroes in on the suspect. Hiding just under the guard rail of a third story balcony, laying behind the end of a snipers rifle, green curls dancing in the wind.
This kid was going to be the death of him and he wasn’t even his.
Yet.
…
“Checkmate.”
Everyone, absolutely everyone, in the teacher’s lounge falls to a dead silence at the voice that announces the draw, it’s not the devil’s, it’s not their overlord, it’s not Nedzu who announces the checkmate.
It’s the teen sitting across from him, the one Hawks brought with him at the stoat’s request, the one who’d timidly fanboyed over them asking a number of questions before the winged hero directed him away with an apology in their direction.
“Oh my god.” Present Mic whispers in horror at the smirking teen and wide eyed stoat. “He’s been beat.” He smacks his friend’s arm and Aizawa smacks his hand away so he smacks his other friends arm and Midnight simply nods in stunned awe. “He’s been beat.”
“A rousing game, little Izuku, always a rousing game with you.” The stoat resets the board. “I expected nothing less. What’s that make our card, four for you, five for me.”
“Not for much longer.” Midoriya moves his first piece. “I’m catching up to you.”
Hawks turns to look at the stunned faculty. “You know what’s even better.” He points at the teen’s lap. “He’s texting too so he’s only half paying attention.”
…
Keigo’s just taking off for patrol when it happens.
“WAIT!”
His troublesome little fledgling intern vaults over the railing of his balcony and dive bombs him from behind. The shock of the sudden action causes them to start falling out of the sky, arms curl around his neck, he curls a hand around one of those forearms, and the little shit actually cheers as he struggles to catch them.
The hero feels the kid tense, pressing into his neck, as they draw closer to the ground, when he finally manages to catch them with a single sweeping glide of his wings.
Good.
They’re safe.
Now he can commit a homicide.
“Are you fucking crazy!” He snags the kid up with a few feathers so he can turn to face him completely. “Don’t you ever do that again! You could have gotten yourself killed!”
“But I had to tell you something.” Midoriya smiles innocently as though he hadn’t taken down the largest hero organization in Japan only a month ago. “Your shoe’s untied.”
“Are you fucking—”
…
“So, Midoriya.” Keigo breaks the silence in his office as the teen waves a hand from where he’s working on his laptop on the sofa some paces away from his desk. “What do you do on your days off?”
“Take down corrupt government organizations and work part time at a cat café.” The teen clicks on something and the printer comes to life, he leans forward to set his laptop down on the coffee table and pushes himself up to his feet. “What do you do?”
“Not that.”
“Shame, it’s a good time.” Izuku lifts his documents off the printer, freshly printed and still warm, humming to himself as he turns towards the hero’s desk. Snatching the pen out of his hand, he signs his name on a line. “I need you to sign this. On the line under my signature.”
The hero raises an eyebrow. “What is it?”
“Adoption forms.”
Keigo signs.
…
“No, don’t send out more feathers, you’ve already used enough up and they don’t exactly grow back at the snap of fingers.” The greenette shakes his head and holds out a hand. “Give me a feather, solid please, sharp as a knife.”
Keigo does as he’s asked without questioning, hands him the feather, and crosses his arms loosely as he prepares to sit back and watch. Other heroes turn to him, demanding that he catch the guy making his escape, he ignores them in favor of watching his (HIS!) chickling track the criminal like a mini bird of prey (he’s so damn proud).
With the likeness of an expert, the teen shifts his position, pulls his arm back, and throws the feather blade with the precision of an expert knife thrower. He leans over to watch it curve and grins when it snags the runners sleeve and slams into the brick wall beside him. “Good throw fledgling.”
“Thanks papa bird.” The little shit brushes his hands together. “All in a days work. I expect at least a quarter of your paycheck considering I just did your job for you, I’m being generous by taking only a quarter, there’s interest so best pay up—” The teen shrieks when he pinches his side. “Aw shit!” And takes off in the other direction.
“He does remember you can fly, right?” Rumi questions as she steps up to his side as they both watch the greenette disappear into the crowd of bystanders. “Like you’re literally the fastest man alive.”
“That’s a tad of an exaggeration.” Keigo disagrees but nods. “I’ll let him think he’s in the clear for another few minutes before sweeping him up.”
…
“Give me three minutes.” Sansa, Eraserhead, and All Might jump at the boy’s voice because he definitely hadn’t been there before. Hawks merely rolls his eyes. “All I need is three minutes.”
The teen steps away from the winged hero’s side, smiles at Sansa (they go way back) who sighs exasperatedly, and opens the door to the interrogation room so he can enter. The three heroes step up to the two way glass.
Izuku smiles at Tsukauchi (they go way back too) who sighs in just as much exasperation. He stands though, giving the teen his chair, and crosses his arms as the boy crosses his hands in front of him on the table, smiling kindly at the quivering man across from him, the criminal audibly gulps. “Hello.” Silence. “Say hello back mister, don’t be rude.”
“H—Hello.”
“Thank you.” The greenette taps his fingers over the table top. “Tanaka, isn’t it, Tanaka Shiro. Lets see, you have three kids, ages two, four, and seven. Your wife used to be a waitress but the café she worked at went out of business so she started working in the red light district. You got into business with a dealer, trafficking what…cocaine?.....Steroids…..Trigger? Trigger. Yes. You started trafficking trigger.” Eraserhead hums in interest. “Your own quirk is comparably weak for your lifestyle, what is it, you can produce a spike like structure over your skin but they’re flimsy, easily broken, so you decided, oh what the hell, I’ll just take a little of my cargo, I doubt they’ll notice.” The teen’s even tone doesn’t waver in the slightest. “But they did, didn’t they, they did find out you stole from them, and now they want their payment. They threatened to kill your family, so you sent your wife and kids away into hiding, where are they Tanaka, where—your mother’s house. She lives in the middle of nowhere. Smart thinking, living in the middle of nowhere, very few people know where she lives, but then, living in the middle of nowhere no one can hear you scream.” Midoriya leans forward. “No one but you, Tanaka, can you hear your little babies screaming as they’re ruthlessly slaughtered? Your wife screaming and crying over their lifeless bodies before she’s taken to her next life? I’d hate for their location to somehow slip out because you refused to cooperate here, so what do you say buddy old pal, wanna start talking with my good friend here?”
“I can see why Nedzu likes him so much.” The underground hero groans. “They’re both sadistic shits.”
“If I didn’t know how much of a baby bird he can be when you push the right buttons,” Hawks chirps happily. “I’d be downright terrified of him.”