Chapter Text
Working under the assumption that Shisui wasn’t actually blind, or at least wielded some sort of quirk that allowed him to ‘see’ without his eyes, following him without being noticed was a tedious task. Hawks made sure to stay far away, pretending to preoccupy himself with his phone, and not move again until long after Shisui had. However, this came with the distinct disadvantage of him nearly losing track of Shisui on multiple occasions.
The guy was fast. Agile. Wherever he was going, he’d clearly taken this path numerous times already. Hawks followed him along twisted roads and down into the shadier side of the city which, mind you, was not a good sign if he still wanted to believe his roommate was innocent.
At one point, Shisui stepped into a run-down and clearly abandoned shop, the place nearly falling apart at the seams. Hawks couldn’t fathom why he would possibly go in there, but the answer became apparent enough as he walked out not a minute later in a completely different set of clothes. The outfit was eerily similar to that of the Ghost of Kyushu’s, though a few details were different. For one, there was no ski mask hiding his face from view. In fact, he looked just like the normal Uchiha Shisui, if you only looked at his face: short, curly hair, sunglasses covering his eyes, and a tilt to his head like he were listening for things no one else could hear. For two, over what could easily be the Ghost of Kyushu’s outfit, he wore a large, loose jacket. It was navy blue with a symbol shaped like an uchiwa fan, the top half red and the bottom half white, painted across the back. He didn’t recognize the symbol at all, but he felt as though it held meaning.
Black combat boots walked swiftly down the street and rounded a corner, Shisui heading down a set of stairs with quick movements.
After a moment, Hawks followed. By the time he reached the stairs, Shisui was already walking inside a set of doors. Hawks wished himself luck and hoped that whatever was waiting on the other side of those doors wasn’t an ambush.
Hopefully, it would just be a really, really good party.
Party was one way to put it.
Illegal quirk-fighting ring was another.
Hawks had followed Shisui through the building and to a door inside of the place, each side flanked by bouncers wielding weapons that weren’t legal and quirks that could probably flatten any civilian. They’d let Shisui in without even asking for an ID, which did not spark much hope at all, and then stopped Hawks for a solid ten minutes before eventually buying into his numerous lies. The good news was that, without his wings and in the outfit he was wearing, he did not look like pro-hero Hawks at all. The bad news was that by the time Hawks got through the doors, Shisui was gone.
However, it was likely this was place Shisui had been intending to go, so he’d just have to track him down again from the inside and see why exactly his kind and apparently not perfectly normal roommate was regularly attending a quirk-fighting ring.
He weaved his way among the crowd, trying to block out the horrible scent of drugs and alcohol, hoping to spot Shisui. He caught a glimpse of the symbol painted on Shisui’s back once and followed it, only to find that it was a poster listing tonight’s fights and inciting people to place bets on the competitors. The poster listed numerous smaller matches, though the headliner was clearly the one in massive bold letters across the top: CROW V.S. CONJURING
He frowned at the poster. Someone bumped into him from behind, splashing alcohol onto Hawks’ coat.
“Oh shit, sorr’man,” the other said, drunken voice slurring the words and making them hard to identify over the noise of the room. His hair was made of needles and his face was pierced to high heaven. “Didn’tseeyouthere.”
“It’s fine,” Hawks said tersely.
The other leaned in. “Lemme guess,” he squinted at the poster. “You’re here to see the big’n.”
“The big one?”
He nodded, sloshing his drink around as he pointed at the headliner. “Crow and Conjuring. Man that fight’s gon’ be waaack.”
Hawks nodded. “For sure. Which one do you think will win?”
“Oh, Conjuring fo sho,” the man’s pointer finger landed on the name as he tapped the poster a few times in his drunken haze. “His quirk is good. So good. So…” His eyes dipped closed and he seemed to pass out for a second, his drink falling to the ground between their feet, before suddenly snapping to, his head raising so abruptly Hawks was sure he’d get whiplash. The man whooped in excitement and then turned around, yelling about needing more shots.
Hawks stared after him as he left.
Someone nearby was screaming insults. Another person snorted a line of cocaine. Hawks really wanted to find Shisui and ask him why the hell he would come to a place like this on the regular.
The lights flickered. Spotlights turned on. The crowd went quiet for a second before a loud roar built up as the massive room of onlookers prepared for the fights to begin.
Hawks scanned his surroundings once more. He could see a few people waving signs bearing the same crest Shisui’s jacket had—he wasn’t sure if it belonged to Crow or Conjuring, but he was sure it was one of the two—and figured that Shisui had changed into merch for this event. Once again, it did not paint a good picture.
Once the first fight started, he gave up on trying to find Shisui. The lights went down and suddenly the only thing that could be made out in the entire room was the center arena, where two women were poised to fight.
Hawks resigned himself to watching.
An announcer counted down and the fight began, the two women throwing themselves at each other with intent to kill. The crowd roared around him, with people placing massive sums of money on one woman winning or the other. The fight inside the ring was wild and the crowd outside wasn’t much better. As fun as it was to watch—and Hawks would admit that it was indeed fun—he couldn’t possibly imagine why Shisui would want to come to a place like this. This was hardly his scene.
Unless it was.
Apparently it was.
The fight ended with one of the women getting knocked out by a terribly strong punch to the jaw; the crowd erupted into a cacophony of cheers and boos, the sound far more thunderous than anything Hawks had heard yet. The unconscious woman was dragged out of the ring while the victor stood tall, soaking in all the attention, though she was swiftly removed from the ring as well to make space for the next round of fighters.
It went on like that for the better part of half an hour. By the time the sixth match had gone through, Hawks was beginning to think that Shisui had led him in here just to lose him in the crowd. Perhaps he was actually out and about, committing acts of vigilante justice right now.
The sixth match was the end of the small-time fights. All that remained was the headliner—Crow VS Conjuring. At this point, Hawks was in too deep and figured he’d have to stay to watch, although he didn’t particularly want to. The crowd dispersed for a while, resuming their previous process of drinking, smoking, gambling, and doing various other acts that Hawks was trying to ignore. Ugh, he was going to need such a long shower after this. He stood by awkwardly, coat wrapped tight around himself, eyes roving around, trying to spot a familiar head of dark, curly hair. He never found it.
The announcer called for silence another ten minutes later and the crowd fell quiet, the entire room forgoing what they were doing in favor of waiting for what would be said next. Hawks had to admit, as illegal as this place was, they had the business down. Drinks, excitement, suspense. It was swamped with people ready and willing to spend all of their savings in the hopes of making more.
He wondered how much the fighters got per fight. In a place like this, even the losers probably got a decent sum. Especially if the fight was intentionally rigged. But the winners? Hah, they probably made boatloads.
“And now,” the announcer said, his voice resonating around the packed room, setting the atmosphere alight and bringing a shift to the craze of onlookers, “the moment you’ve all been waiting for. Make some noise for our next match. Entering the arena now is… CONJURINGGGG!!!”
A tall man with shoulders so broad they’d put Endeavor’s frame to shame stepped into the arena, his arms held up, hands motioning for the crowd to chant his name. A chant quickly rose up, Conjuring! Conjuring! Conjuring!
“VERSUS!”
The chanting died down as the room waited for the other fighter to enter the arena. The door opened.
“CROWWWWWW!!!”
Out stepped a much smaller man, his frame nearly the size of Hawks’. He had curly black hair, sunglasses framing his face, and a navy blue jacket painted with the uchiwa-esque symbol draped around his shoulders.
Hawks’ jaw dropped.
A chant went up, even though Crow didn’t call for it like the other had. Amidst the rhythmic chanting of the name Crow was calls for him to win or jeers for him to die a miserable death. Crow didn’t react to any of the words, his covered gaze focused solely on Conjuring.
“THIS IS THE FIGHT OF A LIFETIME FOLKS! PLACE YOUR BETS! WILL CROW BE ABLE TO DEFEAT CONJURING’S UNGODLY QUIRK OR WILL HE BE DEMOLISHED? MAYBE CONJURING FINALLY MEET HIS MATCH?”
Hawks could not believe this was happening. Forget Shisui potentially being the Ghost of Kyushu—at least vigilante justice was noble—why the hell was his BLIND, NICE, and QUIRKLESS roommate fighting in an illegal quirk-battling ring?
The announcer began to count down. Hawks clasped his hands together in anxiety. The crowd joined in on the counting as the fighters readied their stances.
“TWO! ONE! BEGIN!”
Conjuring opened his mouth and spoke, the words reverberating through the room. “Flip!”
The arena flipped upside down. The crowd went wild as Crow—Uchiha Shisui—tumbled through the air.
“Stab!”
Spikes solidified in the air, heading straight for Crow.
Hawks was going to watch his roommate die in a quirk-fighting ring, wasn’t he?
Crow disappeared.
Hawks’ jaw dropped again as Shisui appeared behind Conjuring, legs wrapping around the other’s neck, strangling him without remorse.
“Blast away!” Conjuring yelled and Crow went flying across the ring, back slamming into the metal bars that separated the fighters from the crowd. He hit the ground hard, a scream of pain ripping from his lungs.
“CROW’S INJURED!” The announcer called out. “THIS MUST BE A FIRST FOLKS! PERHAPS CROW IS THE ONE WHO’S MET HIS MATCH!”
Screams rose up from the crowd. One woman tried to crawl over people in order to beat Crow atop the head and get him to return to the fight, but she was quickly shut down by one of the guards standing beside the bars. Crow stumbled to his feet, holding the side of his ribs. Hawks pursed his lips. Right, he was injured.
Had Shisui gotten his injury here and it just happened to match up with the wound Hawks had given the Ghost? No, it couldn’t have, the announcer had just said this was the first time Crow had gotten injured.
Crow’s fingers came together in a sign that rang bells in Hawks’ mind, although he couldn’t place where he’d seen them from, and then there were multiple of him in the arena, all attacking Conjuring at once.
“THERE IT IS! CROW’S STRONGEST MOVE!” The announcer yelled. “HE’S TELEPORTING SO FAST THAT HE’S CREATING SOLID AFTER-IMAGES OF HIMSELF! WHAT AN IMMENSE POWER!”
Despite the beating Conjuring was taking, he continued to fight back, calling out commands that forced various effects on the arena in an attempt to stop Crow’s attacks. Conjuring clearly had a very powerful quirk—it seemed to be the ability to conjure an effect from the power of his voice—but Crow had sheer skill on his side. His attacks were clean, powerful, and fast. Each punch and kick landed with devastating power, interrupting Conjuring’s attacks and making the massive man stumble from blows coming from a person a third of his size.
Conjuring seemed to have enough. One massive hand grabbed one of the after-images by the arm and threw it across the ring before yelling, “GO TO SLEEP!”
Crow hit the ground. All of the after-images faded away, leaving only the original body behind, fast asleep on the ground.
The arena fell silent.
“IS IT POSSIBLE THAT CONJURING HAS ALREADY WON?”
Conjuring put his hands up in victory, gathering a chant from the crowd as the announcer counted down the seconds Crow was unconscious for, each number getting closer and closer to the end of the match.
Hawks gulped.
Come on, Shisui. Wake up.
Conjuring stepped forward, intending to stomp on Crow’s unconscious form as a final declaration of victory, only for Crow to disappear just before his boot could meet skin.
In one swift and decisive move, Crow appeared behind Conjuring and hit him with a punch to the back of the head so powerful Conjuring flew right into the metal bars of the cage, denting them.
The crowd roared.
Crow stood silently by, not basking in the attention at all, as the announcer counted down. When he reached zero, Crow turned around and left the cage, chants of his moniker following him as he went.
Hawks stared at the dented bars. The amount of power it must have taken to do that was… insane. Only someone with strength comparable to All Might’s should be able to strike with that level of force.
Hawks tucked his hands into his pockets and left the sea of people, intending to go home and prepare to confront Shisui. They needed to talk.
Shisui slipped into the apartment with practiced ease, moving just as quietly as usual despite the slight limp in his step from the fight. Conjuring was a good fighter with a powerful quirk, he wouldn’t lie, but Shisui didn’t like to lose. He especially didn’t like to lose when the paycheck was as high as it was—he probably wouldn’t have to fight for weeks with this kind of money, meaning he could focus his time completely on getting home.
Much to his surprise, Hawks was standing directly in the living room when he got back, arms crossed, smelling like a mosh-pit, and generally giving off the vibe that he was furious. Shisui faltered momentarily, but then remembered that he wasn’t supposed to be able to see Hawks standing there, so he closed the door and began moving towards his room as per usual.
“Shisui.” Hawks’ voice stopped him. He sounded like Fugaku that one time the man had gotten royally pissed at Itachi, which didn’t bode well given that Hawks had a naturally friendly tone of voice.
He startled and stopped, turning towards Hawks’ direction. “Hawks? What are you doing up?” He resisted the urge to ask why Hawks smelled like he’d been doing lines all night; to be honest, he really didn’t want to know what the hero got up to when he was forcibly off-duty.
“We need to talk,” Hawks said, still projecting a vibe of Intense Anger. “I followed you tonight. Care to explain why I just spent the last two hours of my night in an illegal quirk fighting ring, watching you, my quirkless roommate, fight in said ring?”
Shisui blue-screened.
Of all the things he expected Hawks to be mad at him about, this was not on the list. Admittedly, he’d suspected Hawks may have found out about Shisui’s vigilante activities due to his injury and the weird way he’d been acting the past couple of days, but his participation in the quirk-fighting operation was so distinctly separate from everything else that it was the last thing he’d expected Hawks to find out. Much less for him to find out first.
How was Shisui going to explain this one?
He thought about it for a moment. Hawks waited. They stood there in silence, probably in the dark, as Shisui tried to find a suitable explanation for his actions.
There wasn’t one. Hawks had seen him. He’d seen him break the law by participating in the quirk-fighting ring, he’d seen him use chakra, and he’d seen the level at which Shisui could fight. Hawks wasn’t an idiot. He’d connect the pieces soon enough to the evidence he had on the Ghost of Kyushu, and then a solid eighty percent of Shisui’s secrets would be out.
He might as well go ahead and make it one-hundred.
Shisui sighed. He gave up the ruse entirely and dropped his duffle bag off his shoulder and into his hand, holding it forward for Hawks to see. “Go ahead, look through it. You’ll find all the evidence you need. My uniform from the quirk-fighting ring is in there as well as the gear I use as the Ghost of Kyushu. You can have it all, but let me explain before you arrest me.”
After a long moment, Hawks tentatively stepped forward to take the bag. Shisui waited for him to open it, but he didn’t.
“What are you waiting for?”
Hawks snapped out of it, finally seeming to come to the realization of what was happening. “Wait, are you… admitting to all of it? The illegal fight ring, the vigilantism, lying to me… all of it?”
Shisui nodded. “I can explain. I promise.”
Hawks’ fingers wrapped tighter around the handle of the bag. “Then I think you should start talking.”
Shisui steeled himself and began his story. He told Hawks about his clan, about the coup d’état, about his eyes and his attempt at suicide. He explained waking up in the hospital of Hosu City just after the arrest of the Hero Killer: Stain and realizing that he was in another dimension. He explained how chakra worked and how he used it to sense the world around him. He explained how he got his money through the quirk-fighting ring and was moonlighting as a vigilante in order to track down someone with a quirk that could get him home to his family. To his world. He explained everything and more and by the end of it, he wanted to cry tears that wouldn’t—couldn’t—come. He hadn’t realized how difficult these last few months had been, how hard he’d worked day in and day out, how many hits he’d taken, how many nights he went with minimal sleep, how lonely he was with only Hawks as his company for a few hours a day, how different this world was and how terribly, terribly homesick he was. He hadn’t realized any of it until he’d been forced to speak it aloud.
By the end of Shisui’s explanation, Hawks seemed just as distraught as Shisui was. The duffle bag was on the floor now, still unopened, and Hawks’ full attention was on him, tears welling in his eyes as Shisui finished his tale.
Shisui only had one thing left to tell him:
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for lying—about my abilities, about my age, about who I am. I’m sorry that I hurt you and I’m sorry I’ve been stressing you out for weeks now over the Ghost case. I’m sorry, Hawks. I really am.”
At that, Hawks stumbled forward and wrapped his arms around Shisui’s shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug. Shisui, stiff at first, melted into the embrace after a moment, relishing in the warmth of Hawks’ arms and thinking that even if he could never get home, this didn’t feel too different.
“You could’ve told me sooner,” Hawks said. “I would have helped you.”
“I know that now,” Shisui replied, “but I didn’t know that then. I didn’t even know you when I started all of this.”
Hawks’ grip on him tightened. Shisui dipped his head into the crook of Hawks’ neck and let the comfort of it all drown him. Hawks’ embrace sucked all of the pain away, yet at the same time it reminded him of all he’d lost. Shisui didn’t want to let go. Not ever.
“You said you lied about your age,” Hawks said after a while, as though just now processing the words. “How old are you really?”
“…Sixteen.”
“WHAT?” Hawks pulled back, holding Shisui by the shoulders, looking him up and down as if truly seeing him for the first time.
“I wouldn’t have lied about that part if this dimension’s age of majority wasn’t so high,” Shisui admitted, shuffling his feet a bit.
Hawks spluttered at that, voice rising up a few octaves as he asked, “How high is it where you come from?”
Shisui shrugged. “Depends on when you graduate the Academy. I was considered a legal adult by the time I was seven.”
“YOU WHAT?”
Yeah. Shisui should have assumed that wouldn’t go over well.
Shisui gave him an awkward, tentative smile.
Hawks continued his midlife crisis, pulling away from Shisui entirely to pace across the room and mutter things about child labor laws, which was a point of contention that Shisui had yet to understand since coming here. When Hawks finished, he rounded on Shisui again, giving him another glance-over, as if truly seeing him for the first time.
“So,” Shisui said after an uncomfortable amount of time had passed in which Hawks was just staring at him in disbelief. “Are you going to arrest me?”
Silence.
Shisui bowed his head. If Hawks chose to arrest him, he would fight back. He didn’t want to, but he wasn’t about to spend the rest of his life in a cell.
“No.”
“Huh?”
“I’m not going to arrest you. You’re just a kid trying to get home.”
“Well, I’m actually—“ he cut himself off from correcting Hawks on his status as a minor and just accepted the fact that, by being sixteen years old, Hawks would now forever think of him as a baby.
“In fact, let’s do this the right way this time. I’ll help you.”
Shisui’s head snapped up in surprise. “What?”
“I’ll help you get home. You said there’s one person left on your list of people that might have quirks able to bring you back home, right? Well, let’s work together this time to find him. You don’t have to fight alone anymore, Shisui.”
Shisui’s breath hitched.
Hawks smiled at him, reaching forward to place a hand on Shisui’s shoulder—an anchor to remind him that he really wasn’t alone anymore.
“Are you sure?” Shisui asked. “I mean, you’re still injured and what I’m doing is hardly safe or legal. Are you sure you want to help?”
Hawks shrugged. “I mean, I’ve been working as a double-agent investigating the League of Villains for the past few months and I just went to an illegal-quirk fighting ring where had anyone recognized me, I probably would have been killed, so I’d say I’m pretty used to doing things that are neither safe nor legal.”
Shisui snorted. Well, that was one way to put it. Speaking of the League of Villains… “Right. Do you want to explain the double-agent thing anytime soon?”
“Oh yeah, that.” Hawks paused as though remembering for the first time that he’d never explained what he meant by being a double-agent. “How about this, I’ll tell you about it, but only if you let me help you?”
He could work with that. “Deal.”
By the time Haburashi returned from his overseas trip, Hawks’ wings were healed and Shisui’s injury had been attended to by a proper doctor, meaning that they were fully prepared for combat, should the meeting with the ex-yakuza come down to that.
It didn’t. In fact, the man was perfectly pleasant, allowing Hawks and Shisui into his home in order to discuss the matter at hand. He even offered them drinks.
“You need me to bring you to a different dimension?” Haburashi asked the two of them. He was sitting on a bright orange couch, wearing a tiger print robe, sipping at a mocktail, legs crossed and propped up on an ottoman that looked like a peach. Not the fruit kind. He was easily one of the strangest sights Hawks had ever seen. Despite his odd appearance, he had a basic face, the kind that could become anyone with enough makeup.
“Yes,” Shisui said seriously. He had a knife brandished; had ever since arriving. Haburashi clearly wasn’t worried about the threat.
Hawks knew now that Shisui could see better than he’d initially implied, but no amount of cha-whatever-sensing could accurately inform Shisui of what this man looked like. He leaned over and whispered a brief description to the other. By the time he pulled away, Shisui’s face had morphed through five different expressions of bafflement before settling on staring in Hawks’ direction through his sunglasses as if to ask, ‘did you really have to tell me that?’
Yes. Yes Hawks did. Now they could continue.
Shisui returned his attention to Haburashi. “Can you do that? I need to go to a very specific dimension as well, not just any dimension.”
Haburashi considered it for a moment. Hawks, having been informed of the man’s odd inclinations towards dental products, wondered if he’d have to offer to buy the man toothpaste for the next decade in exchange for his help.
“I could probably do it,” Haburashi hummed, hand coming up to rub at his face in serious thought. “Could you describe what your dimension is like for me? I’ve seen so many.”
Shisui’s eyebrows raised in surprise, the knife in his hand lowering. “Wait, seriously? You can actually do it?”
Haburashi hummed. “Well yeah, I mean, my quirk lets me travel between dimensions and integrate myself within them at will. The only hard part of your request is putting you in the right one.”
Shisui was getting excited at the prospect that he’d finally found the person with the quirk he needed. “I come from a place called Konohagakure in the Elemental Nations, if that rings any bells.”
Haburashi’s face lit up. “Konoha?”
“You recognize it?”
Haburashi leaned forward, nodding happily. His robe had opened up in the motion to reveal a massive tattoo on his chest, but what it depicted was hard to discern. It looked to be a series of scenes, almost like fifty different stories had been inked into one, though they were all overlapping, making it impossible to tell one scene from another. He thought he could see familiar faces within the ink—like Ingenium or Eraserhead, perhaps—but once again, the images were all too convoluted.
“Yeah, I’ve been to Konoha before. Great place, great ramen. Got my head yoinked off in one of ‘em; that sucked.”
Silence fell after that statement.
…was this guy a total wackjob?
“You—“ Shisui stopped himself, puzzled expression on his face. “Never mind. Can you bring me there?”
“Uhhhh you’re gonna have to be a bit more specific,” Haburashi said, taking another long sip from his mocktail. It smelled like cranberry juice and pineapple, not a terrible combination, but certainly not one Hawks would pick for nine o’clock at night on a Tuesday.
Shisui’s head tilted to the side. “How so?”
“There’s a lotta dimensions out there, kiddo.” Haburashi pointed at him with the hand holding the mocktail, nearly dropping the drink in the process. “What’s your name, what year is it, who’s the Hokage, has anyone of note gone nukenin, you know, stuff like that. Gotta make sure I put you in the right place. Trust me, there are some dimensions out there you don’t want to land in.”
Hawks blinked. He looked over at Shisui. Shisui seemed just as at a loss for words as he was.
“Well…” Shisui spluttered for a moment before steeling himself and beginning to explain. “My name is Uchiha Shisui and when I left it was nearing the end of 278 AD. Danzo had just taken my eye and I’d given the other to my cousin Itachi and then jumped into the river. I woke up here after that. Uhm…. no one of note has gone nukenin that I know of… and the Hokage is still Hiruzen Sarutobi, to my knowledge. Is that enough?”
Hawks had absolutely no idea what any of that meant, but Haburashi seemed to understand, nodding along as he slurped at his mocktail until it was empty and only sucking air. After an unreasonable amount of time spent making straw noises with the empty glass, he smacked his lips and set the glass down. “Yeah, that’s enough. I know which one you’re from. Just to double check though, are you sure you want to go back?”
“…Why wouldn’t I?”
Haburashi’s face winced as though to say, ‘I can think of many reasons’ although he didn’t speak them. “Ah whatever. Maybe you’ll like it. Listen, how about this: I can send you back tomorrow morning. Spend the rest of the night packing up and saying your goodbyes, and when the morning comes, we can meet back here and I’ll do my thing.”
Hawks looked over at Shisui, who turned his head to meet his. They both nodded.
“Sounds good.”
As Shisui placed the last of the items he wanted to bring back to Konoha inside the storage scroll, he felt a sense of finality wash over him. This was it. His last hour in Kyushu. His last hour as Hawks’ roommate. His last hour in this world, forever.
Hawks waited in the doorframe for him, a few of his feathers nervously flying around the room and checking every nook and cranny, making sure he wasn’t leaving anything behind. Shisui hadn’t, but he almost wished he had so he would a reason to keep procrastinating leaving.
He wanted to go home. He really, really did. So why did leaving feel so hard?
“We’ve got another thirty minutes until we have to head back towards Haburashi’s,” Hawks started.
“We can make it fifty-five,” Shisui corrected. “I can body-flicker there.”
“Oh.” A pause. “Really?”
Shisui nodded.
“Huh. Cool.”
They both stood around awkwardly. Shisui fished for something to say, some way to convey how much he would miss Hawks and how grateful he was that the hero had heard him out and decided to help him, but the proper words didn’t exist. They never would.
“Can I make us breakfast?” Shisui asked instead.
Hawks lit up. “Yeah, you can.”
The two of them walked towards the kitchen and began to cook. This time the two of them worked together, unlike the many times Shisui had cooked alone. As he prepared the meal, he couldn’t help but think about the fact that he was making a meal meant to start a day, but this time, it would be a meal to end an era.
Halfway through cooking, Hawks spoke up. “Can I still have your duffle bag?”
Shisui frowned. “Why?”
“For evidence. I’ll bring it to the police so they can close the case—I’ll say you died or something like that.”
Shisui resisted the urge to comment on how many times he’d supposedly ‘died’ in this lifetime, only for the truth to be that he’d gone to another dimension. He’d only done it twice, which wasn’t a lot, but the fact that it had happened twice was impressive, if you asked him.
“Sure, I’ll leave it to you.”
They continued cooking, a peaceful silence settling over them. Or at least Shisui thought it was peaceful. Hawks would probably disagree given the way he, unprompted, whipped towards Shisui, holding a spatula in his direction like it were a knife.
“Wait, how many times did I talk about your vigilante persona to your face?”
Shisui snorted. “So many. You even told me about the probability of my getting arrested.”
Hawks barked a laugh. “Oh yeah! In my defense, you were the one that asked.”
“I did, mostly because I was concerned about what would happen to me if you found out that I killed so many people.” Hawks opened his mouth to say something in response to that, but Shisui kept talking before the other could interrupt. “For the record, yes, I killed a lot of people. And yes, I do feel bad about it, I don’t actually like killing, however I wouldn’t have killed them if it weren’t necessary.”
It didn’t take Hawks nearly as long as he would have expected to recover.“I know,” Hawks said. “I figured out from your story yesterday that you’d killed a lot more people than we ever knew, and to be honest, I’m not the sort of person that would blame you.”
Shisui paused in his cooking. “You aren’t?”
Hawks shook his head. “No, not at all. You know my current mission into investigating the League of Villains?”
Shisui hummed the affirmative.
“Well, I might have to kill some of them. It’s not that I want to, but in some instances, there just isn’t a better option. I think you understand that better than anybody.”
Shisui did. He knew what the value of a life was. He knew what it meant to make sacrifices. He, of all people in this world, would understand Hawks the most right now.
“If it comes down to it,” Shisui said slowly, taking his time to make sure he got his words across right, “be swift, but not heartless. Even the villains are people too. Give them their end, but make it painless.”
“I will. I promise.”
Shisui turned off the burner to the stove and called the meal complete. Hawks grabbed bowls, they loaded each one up, and they sat down at the table to enjoy their last meal together.
“So, are you looking forward to finding a new roommate?” Shisui quipped.
Hawks threw his head back and groaned. “Don’t get me started. I don’t even want to think about it.”
“You don’t? But maybe this time you won’t get a roommate that’s been committing crimes underneath your nose for the past few months.”
Hawks groaned even louder this time; Shisui laughed at his distress.
“Okay,” Haburashi rubbed his hands together like he was warming them up after being out in the cold, although it was clear from his outfit that he’d just rolled out of bed and hadn’t stepped outside once in the past twelve hours. “Let’s rock ‘n roll.”
Shisui bounced nervously on the balls of his feet as he waited for Haburashi to do his thing. He didn’t actually know how the man’s quirk worked, so he was left wondering if the man would open up a portal like Kurogiri’s warp gate or if his quirk would work like Exile’s instantaneous teleportation.
“So, you should probs say your goodbyes,” Haburashi said, gesturing between Shisui and Hawks, “‘Cause this’ll be pretty fast.”
Shisui nodded and turned towards Hawks. Once again, he found that he had everything to say and yet no way to express it.
“I’m gonna miss you,” Hawks said, speaking first and ensuring that Shisui didn’t have to find his voice just yet. The other stepped forward and wrapped his arms and wings around Shisui’s figure, taking him into a tight embrace, drowning him in his warmth. “Thanks for being my best friend.”
Shisui gulped and returned the hug. “Yeah. I’m going to miss you too. I’m especially going to miss the part where you tried to kill me.”
“That was one time,” Hawks complained. “And you tried to kill me back.”
“I really didn’t,” Shisui returned. “If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead.”
“Oh, well lucky me,” Hawks laughed, pulling away from the hug but not quite letting go.
“Lucky you,” Shisui said, and then figured he might as well try to get the words out even though they wouldn’t be perfect. “I mean it when I say I’ll miss you. These last few months, I’ve had nothing. I’ve worked myself to the bone trying to get home, I spent hours upon hours either investigating villains or killing them, and I rarely got a moment of rest. Even though I tried not to think about it, all I could think about was what I’d left behind. The people I missed. But you made it all more bearable. I got a friend out of it, someone to spend my time with, someone to give me a reason to rest and have fun. So thank you, Hawks. I won’t forget you. Not ever.”
Hawks, in lieu of a reply, simply lunged back in for an even tighter hug. Shisui laughed and returned it, burying his face into Hawks’ shoulder and feeling a surge of emotion well up inside of him at the thought of never seeing him again.
After a few moments, they pulled away. Hawks wiped tears from his eyes, saying goodbye as he did so, and Shisui wished he could cry in order to do the same, but tears couldn’t come anymore, so instead he turned to Haburashi and nodded that he was ready to go.
Haburashi clapped his hands together twice. One moment, Shisui was mere inches away from Hawks, and the next thing Shisui knew, he was standing in an empty room.
“Chief!” Hawks called, sauntering into the man’s office like he belonged there, duffle bag in hand. “I’ve got some great—okay, maybe bad—news for you.”
The man looked up from his paperwork to glare at Hawks for interrupting him, but to be honest, Hawks didn’t care. “What is it?”
Hawks plopped Shisui’s duffle down onto the desk between them. “The Ghost is gone,” he said, gesturing to the bag.
Chief Sawamura paused. He looked at the bag, then up at Hawks, and then down at the bag before pinching the bridge of his nose. “If you just brought a dead body in a duffle bag into my office, I swear—“
Hawks barked a laugh. “What? No, no, that’s not it, I promise. Look—“ he opened the zipper of the bag and pointed at Shisui’s gear, which would no longer be of use. “Found this at my doorstep.”
Chief Sawamura leaned in to look at the contents, making a noise of interest. “Huh. So, has he bit the dust, or did he decide to give up?”
Hawks hummed in thought. “I don’t think it was either, Chief.”
“Then what do you think it was?”
“I think he finally found what he was looking for.”
They were all gone.
Shisui kneeled on the floor of his home, hands pulling at the roots of his hair, sobs spilling from his lips, the sound echoing around the emptiness of the space. Cobwebs strung about the room, dust coated every surface, and he knew that if he could see them, blood splatters would be there too.
His clan was gone. They’d all been killed.
Another sob. Another scream. Another piece of his heart ripping out of his chest.
Itachi. Itachi, what have you done?
He grasped at the crow charm, the very one he’d bought for his cousin as a souvenir, his grip so tight that a crack formed along the wooden surface. He sobbed louder, harder, and despaired at the fact that no one was left to hear him.
The Uchiha were gone. They were dead. His parents were dead. His aunts and uncles. His friends and coworkers. All that remained were his two broken cousins—the one who’d killed them all and the one forced to live and tell the tale. Itachi and Sasuke.
Itachi. Itachi, what have you done?
Shisui didn’t want to be here anymore. He didn’t want to be home. This wasn’t home. Kyushu was. Hawks was. He wanted to go back, he wanted to laugh with Hawks again, cook with him again, be happy again. He wanted to be there.
Grief. Pain. Sadness. Betrayal. They all welled up inside him, spilling over, leaving him feeling raw and vulnerable. He was an Uchiha, one of the only three remaining, and yet… was he? He didn’t have the eyes. He didn’t have his family. He wasn’t even sure how much love he had left. After he got himself together, after the grief stopped being an overwhelming force and instead became a steady current, what would he have left of himself?
Nothing.
Everything he’d loved was gone. Even the village he once adored, he found he couldn’t love now. They’d left his clan to die. They’d given no respect for the Uchiha Compound after every member was killed. Did anyone even mourn the loss of those who’d been massacred?
He didn’t think so.
This wasn’t what mourning the dead looked like. Cobwebs and dust and the scent of dried blood. He was an optimist, yes, but he wasn’t a fool. Konoha didn’t care for the Uchiha. He wondered if they ever had.
Clenching his fists before releasing the tension, he pulled himself to his feet. His heart ached, his throat felt raw from his screams, and he wanted nothing, nothing more than to hunt down Itachi and demand to know why he’d done this, but he couldn’t. Wouldn’t.
Itachi had made his choice. Now Shisui would make his. Sasuke was all that remained of his clan. He was alone and hurting, just like Shisui, but they didn’t have to be alone anymore. He would take care of his cousin, he would protect him, and he wouldn’t ever let anyone disrespect his family again. The world he’d just come from had shown him that heroes could exist, that people with genuine compassion and love could thrive, and he would make true on what he’d learned. For Sasuke, he would become a hero too.