Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Keigo Takami was six years old when his father was arrested.

He watched, from almost two kilometers away, as Endeavor arrested his Dad. (And oh my god! Endeavor! He was real! Did that mean all the heroes he saw on TV were real?) His Momma said that they could never ever go back there and that it was Keigo’s fault that his Dad was caught. He didn’t understand, but Momma was always right so it must have been his fault.

He realized very fast that his Momma was still really sick even though his Dad wasn’t around. He’d thought that maybe he would be able to go to school, that they’d have a house together and maybe they could even have real beds! But that didn’t happen. Instead, they slept behind gross dumpsters and sat on the side of roads with a small tin can that strangers tossed coins into sometimes.

“Maybe,” Keigo said one day, speaking softly as his Momma stared into nothing. “Maybe we should go to the police?”

His Momma scoffed. “We can’t, you know that,” one of the eyes turned to stare at him. “Why don’t you put those wings to good use, huh? Get us some money or food instead of being a useless brat.”

Keigo just nodded silently and sat back down. They didn’t have enough coins yet to buy anything, and even though his Momma told him to steal he didn’t want to. He looked at his Endeavor doll and thought about what he would think if he stole. 

Keigo Takami was almost seven but still six years old when he saw his Momma for the last time.

He had gone out to get some food for them, they had enough coins for him to go to one of the small stores and get some cans of food that his Momma had told him to get one time. On his way back to his Momma, his wings started to tingle. This had happened once or twice before, and every time he saw people get hurt afterward.

This time, he followed where his wings seemed to want to take him. As he did, he saw two cars crash! into each other, a loud explosion and flames erupting from the scene. Between one breath and the next, his feathers flew out from his wings, grabbing people and dragging them to safety as the flames grew and grew in size.

He was tucked into the shadows of an alley, and as soon his wings stopped tingling he ran. He wasn’t supposed to use his wings! He’ll get in trouble if anyone finds out- if his Momma finds out!

Clutching his Endeavor plushie and the bag of food, he ran back to the subway he’d left his Momma in, only to find three strange men in suits standing over her, talking as her eyes flicked between them. One landed on him, and he knew he had to join her. 

(Even though his wings were tingly again, but this time for him instead of other people.)

His Momma looked at him with her own eyes for the first time since his Dad was arrested. She told him that he had to go with these men, that they were going to train him to be a hero. 

“A hero?” Keigo asked, looking at his Endeavor doll. “I can be like him? I can be a hero who beats the bad guys?”

“Yes, Keigo,” one of the men said, kneeling so he was at Keigo’s level. “You won’t be able to see your mother again, but she’ll be well taken care of.”

He looked at his Momma again. “Let’s hope you grow up as strong as this guy.” She had said to him the day she bought him his Endeavor doll. 

“Okay.”

The not-quite-seven-year-old followed the men, keeping an eye on his Momma until they took a turn and she vanished from his view. The car they were in was nice, simple, and black, but nicer than any car he’d been in before. Wings wrapped around him, he curled around his Endeavor doll as the car jostled him as it drove over bumps in the road.

The car stopped and the men ushered him into a large, cold building. They brought him to a small, white room and sat him down on the weird bed that was in there. They left and a moment later a tall, blonde woman entered.

“Hello Keigo,” she said. “My name is Fujimori, I’m going to give you a quick exam, okay?”

“Okay,” he nodded. 

She lifted his wings, asked him to open his mouth and say ah , looked into his ears, shined a light in his eyes, asked him to lay down and pressed on his stomach, and then brought him to a hallway and asked him to read letters on a poster. He read all of them and she was impressed.

“Now, you can control your feathers, right?” She asked, looking up from the clipboard she’d been writing on.

“Mhm, I’m not very good at it though.” He closed his eyes, focusing on his feathers, and willed one of them to detach and float up between him and Fujimori.

“That’s alright, that’s what you’re here for,” she looked at the feather with fascination. “What else can you do with your feathers?”

“Um,” he focused on the feather as hard as he could, willing it to sharpen like he’d done once before. “I can- I can make ‘em sharp, kinda,” his focus broke and the feather softened. “They also- my wings get tingly sometimes, like when- right before the car crash.”

“Interesting,” Fujimori said, more to herself than to Keigo. “We’ll have to run more tests on that later, but for now we need to talk about what you’re going to be doing while you’re with us, okay?”

“Okay,” Keigo brought the feather back to his wings and flapped them once to get it to lay right.

“Follow me,” Fujimori said, leaving the room quickly. Keigo followed, wings shifting and flapping as they made turns and passed more people in suits and a few other kids.

They eventually entered what seemed to be an office of some kind, another woman sitting behind the desk as she typed something on a computer.

“Madame President,” Fujimori said, bowing. Keigo looked between them for a moment before bowing as well. “This is Keigo, physically, he seems to be perfectly healthy if a little malnourished and dehydrated.”

“Wonderful,” the other woman, Madame President, said. “You are dismissed.”

Fujimori nodded, bowing once more before leaving. Keigo almost followed but stayed when ‘Madame President’ spoke again.

“Little Keigo,” she said. “Do you know why you’re here?”

Keigo looked at his doll. They hadn’t tried to take it from him yet, which he was glad for. “‘M here to learn to be a hero, like him.”

“That’s right,” she praised gently. “The training you’re going to go through is going to be tough, are you ready to go through it?”

He looked at her, then back at his doll. “Let’s hope you grow up to be as strong as this guy.” His Momma wanted this for him. “Yes.”

“Alright then,” she pressed a button on the phone on her desk. “Saito, he’s ready.”

The door behind Keigo opened, and a tall, dark-haired man walked in. “Keigo, come with me.”

A lot of following, it seemed. He listened again, he was good at listening and followed Saito out of the office into another plain room.

“Listen, Keigo,” he said, looking into the young boy's eyes. “As of today, you have to say goodbye to your name.”

What? Keigo blinked at the man.

 “From now on, Keigo Takami is dead.” He spoke in a cold, detached voice. “Your name is Hawks now.”

“But-”

“You will not interrupt me,” Saito said, hand landing harshly on Keigo’s cheek. “Say it, say ‘Keigo Takami is dead. My name is Hawks.’”

Keigo blinked at the man, gripping his Endeavor doll tight. It didn’t make any sense. Keigo Takami is dead ? He’s Keigo Takami and he’s very alive, thank you very much. But. . . this man gave him an order. He needed to listen, he was good at listening. “Keigo Takami is dead, my name is Hawks.”

“Very good,” Saito said, gently patting Keigo’s Hawks’ head.

Keigo Takami Hawks was seven when he finally understood exactly what he was supposed to do.

After the first week, he realized he couldn't live in this building with all these people the way he had with his Momma and Dad. With his parents, as long as he was quiet and he didn’t go outside, he could do whatever he wanted. Here, that didn’t work.

Every day he was woken up early by an alarm, and shortly after that Saito entered his room to take him to breakfast where he would be told his schedule. Then, they would go to the gym where another man named Kitani explained that the first part of his training would be getting his body strong. Kitani was a large man with a basic strength quirk, but he was good at his job so Hawks was assigned to him to start.

They worked Keigo Hawks to the bone every day. After a few hours Saito would collect him again and take him to the cafeteria for lunch. Saito always made sure Hawks thanked the lunch workers and always made sure he ate everything on his plate.

In the afternoons, he met with a woman named Naegi who was his tutor. Apparently, Keigo Hawks was smart. He picked up reading very fast despite never being taught by his parents and she was nice when he got things right. However, it was hard for him to sit still. His wings were almost always flapping and he was usually fidgeting with his hands or feathers while she taught. It helped him focus, fidgeting like that. She didn’t like it though.

She used a ruler to smack his hands or wings when he moved too much, but other than that she was nice and complimented him a lot. She was just trying to help, a hero couldn’t be fidgeting all the time after all! It was for his own good to nip this habit before it became a problem.

In the evenings, he met with Kitani again and they focused on his wings; on using his feathers, sharpening them, working up to hearing and visualizing things through them once Kitani realized Hawks could sense things through them.

Saito would show up after a few more hours and take Hawks back to his room, tell him to shower, and then go to bed.

Hawks was- he was kind of enjoying this. He was getting stronger, both physically and mentally, and he really liked learning things. (Even if sitting still took a lot of effort, it was worth pushing himself to sit still if it meant Naegi didn’t use the ruler on him.) He was learning to fly with his wings with Kitani, and holy cow! Flying was his favourite thing ever!

Saito picked up on this quickly when he gave Hawks permission to talk about his studies and he spent the whole time talking about flying. He promised the young boy that if he worked hard, he would be rewarded with more flying time, but if he misbehaved or performed poorly then he wouldn't get to fly as often.

Keigo Hawks asked about his mother once, a few months into his stay. 

“Saito, um, sir?” Hawks asked one day during lunch. He was usually able to talk about whatever he wanted during lunch, though he usually didn’t get much of a response. The question he wanted to ask, though, was important.

“Yes, Hawks?” Saito looked at the winged boy, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Um, sir, can- is-” Hawks stumbled over his words, not sure how to phrase his question.

“Spit it out, heroes don’t stutter,” Saito said sharply.

“Yes, sir,” Hawks said quickly. “How is- how is my mom doing?”

Saito was silent for a moment, and Hawks shrunk in his seat when the older man let out a harsh sigh and stood from the table. He walked around the table and then kneeled next to Hawks.

“Look at me,” Saito demanded, grabbing Hawks’ jaw when the boy started to look down. “You will never ask about her again, understood?”

Saito’s grip was tight on Hawks’ jaw, bringing tears to the boy’s eyes. “But-”

Saito let go briefly before bringing his hand down sharply on Hawks’ cheek. The sound of skin hitting skin echoed in the empty cafeteria. “Understood?”

“Yes sir,” Hawks rubbed his cheek lightly, bowing his head.

“Don’t pout,” Saito gently lifted Hawks’ chin. “If you’re going to be a hero, you have to let go of all past attachments, you have to be unbiased at all times, and you can’t have weaknesses, like family, that villains can use against you.”

“Yes sir,” Hawks said, looking at Saito.

“I’m just trying to help you,” Saito stood, ruffling Hawks’ hair before sitting down again and taking a sip of his coffee.

“I know, sir, thank you,” Hawks said.

Hawks was eight when he learned what kind of punishments disobeying got him.

“You have twenty minutes to free fly before we start training,” Kitani said, leading Hawks into the large field they used for flight training.

“Yes sir,” Hawks said. “Thank you.”

Hawks spread his wings, flapping them lightly to warm them up before taking off into the sky. He shot straight up in the air, quickly flying higher than the building they were next to. He circled the stone building twice, gliding down in a slow spiral before flapping his wings hard to gain speed, rocketing up once again.

Even from the great height he was at, he could still see Kitani on the ground. The man was watching him, occasionally jotting something down in his notebook.

Danger, protect! something in the back of his mind screamed, causing Hawks to stop and hover in the air for a moment. His wings were tingling. They hadn’t done that since the car crash almost a year ago.

“Hawks?” Kitani yelled, seeing Hawks stop.

Hawks froze for a moment, stuck between listening to his wings or staying with Kitani.

It was never really a choice, and he beat his wings hard, soaring through the sky towards the city.

There was a thick line of trees and bushes that separated the Commission property from the rest of the city, as well as someone’s quirk that made everything inside virtually invisible aside from the building. Hawks dove down to the ground, nimbly flying between branches and trees before breaking through the other side.

He broke through the foliage and landed on a sidewalk just in time to see four men drag two women into a dark alley three streets down. He didn’t think twice before running after them, sending a few feathers ahead of him to gather any information he could manage (he still wasn’t very good at that part of his quirk, though he could generally sense how many people there were).

His feathers told him it was just the six people, so he quickly turned the corner to see two men holding the women down, the other two grabbing their sides and pressing their lips to the women's necks despite them screaming for them to stop.

He didn’t speak as he flapped his wings, boosting him to land a powerful kick to one of the men’s heads.

“What the-” the man Hawks hit yelled. He had a horn protruding from his forehead and two more from his elbows.

Not letting the others react, Hawks sent a handful of feathers to pull the women away from the men holding them, quickly ushering them out onto the street. 

Hawks landed a kick to Horn Guy’s stomach, before using his feathers to pull all of the men further down the alley.

“What the hell! Who is this kid!” Another man, this one with deep blue hair, yelled.

“I don’t know!” The third man yelled, a layer of energy flickering over him as he backed up.

Hawks didn’t stick around to see what the guy's quirk was, instead flapping his wings as hard as he could to shoot up through the alley into the sky. The women were running down the street, already flagging down a police car, so Hawks recalled his feathers and flew as fast as he could back to the commission field.

Hawks was smiling to himself as he maneuvered through the tree barrier. He saved those women. He actually saved someone. He was a real hero now! He acted like a hero, beating up the bad guys and saving innocent people!

“Hawks!” Kitani roared as the winged boy emerged from the tree line. The smile that was on his face dropped immediately. “What did you do!” The large man yelled, grabbing a fist full of Hawks’ hair and throwing him down onto the ground.

“I- I’m sorry!” Hawks yelled, pushing himself up into a kneeling position. “I- my wings were tingling and- and that usually means someone’s in danger!” He explained quickly. “There- I saved two women-”

“I don’t care who you saved,” Kitani swiftly landed a kick to Hawks’ ribs. “You did not have permission to leave, you are not a licensed hero yet, and you have no authority to use your quirk in public!”

Kitani didn’t let Hawks defend himself anymore, instead roughly grabbing him by the back of the neck and dragging him into the building.

“I’m sorry!” Hawks apologized again, stumbling and flapping his wings to keep up with Kitani’s fast pace. “I- I’ll never do it again! I’m sorry!” Tears sprung into the corners of his eyes as Kitani’s grip tightened.

“You’re right, you’ll never do it again, and I’m going to teach you why.” Kitani took him down several flights of stairs, not caring that he was dragging him down them, causing Hawks to scrape his legs and arms. 

They reached a part of the building Hawks had never seen, the normally cold and clinical walls transitioning into rough cement. They reached a long hallway that was dimly lit with flickering light bulbs and paint peeling off the walls. Each door they passed had a placard on it, but Kitani was moving too fast for Hawks to read any of them.

Kitani stopped, still gripping the back of Hawks’ neck as he dug into his pocket and pulled out his key ring. He selected an old, thick key and inserted it into the lock, a loud thunk echoing down the hall as the lock turned. Slamming the door open, Kitani threw Hawks into the barren room.

Hawks rolled once before his back hit the cement wall of the tiny room. It wasn’t even big enough for him to stretch his wings out, it was barely as wide as he was.

“You’re going to stay in here for three days, no food.” He threw a water bottle at Hawks, who was still on the ground. “That’s all the water you have.”

The door slammed shut, a heavy thunk signaling the lock falling into place.

He never flew off again.

Hawks was ten when he learned what lengths the Commission wanted him to go to. 

“Hawks, this is Yamabe,” Saito said, introducing the winged boy to another instructor. Yamabe was a short, stout man with a disarming smile. He smiled at Hawks as Saito introduced them and the wrinkles around his eyes were the only clue Hawks got to the man’s true age.

“Hawks, lovely to meet you,” Yamabe bowed slightly, holding a hand out for Hawks to shake.

“You as well, sir,” Hawks said, bowing and returning the handshake.

“Yamambe will be starting your psychological and interpersonal training,” Saito explained, once again writing something down on the tablet he always seemed to be carrying.

“Yes sir,” Hawks flapped his wings once. He didn’t know why, but he had an odd feeling about Yamabe. Just something about the way his eyes narrowed as he looked Hawks up and down made his feathers fluff up a little bit.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” Saito said, leaving without any further explanation.

Hawks was left alone with Yamabe in, what Hawks assumed to be, his classroom. Though, ‘classroom’ would be inaccurate. It looked more like a bedroom than anything else. There was a single desk and a chalkboard to the right of the room, as well as a larger desk that was Yamabe’s if the name card was anything to go by; but the rest of the room didn’t feel like a classroom.

Pressed against the left wall was a large bed with a white and blue bedspread and a nightstand on either side. There were several racks of clothing, most of which looked to be Hawks’ size so that dismissed his initial thought that this was actually Yamambe’s bedroom. In front of the floor-to-ceiling window that was in the center of the back wall, was a vanity with what looked to be makeup supplies covering the table.

“So, what do you think?” Yamabe asked, closing the door behind Saito.

“It’s a nice room, sir.” Hawks said robotically. 

“I’m glad you think so,” Yamabe placed an arm over Hawks’ shoulders, guiding him to the small desk in the room. “We’ll talk more about the rest of the room at a later date, for now, we’re going to focus on interpersonal skills.”

Hawks nodded wordlessly. Saito said Yamabe would be his interpersonal and psychological trainer, so maybe the bed was for the psychological part? It was probably going to be resistance training, so maybe it worked better when he was lying down.

His lessons with Yamabe started off simple enough. They talked a lot, mostly about how to talk to other people, what to say, and how to act to get people to do or say what you want. It was interesting, and Yamabe was a good teacher, he gave really good examples and Hawks felt like he was actually pretty good at it.

A month into lessons with Yamabe, he started psychological training. Hawks’ initial thought that the bed would be used for it was correct as Yamabe led Hawks to the bed, telling him to lay down and that he was going to use his quirk on the winged boy.

Yamabe’s quirk was something he introduced as ‘Mind Maze.’ It allowed him to enter someone’s mind through physical touch and create illusions and scenarios based on memories of the target. The goal of the training was to resist Yamabe’s quirk and turn the illusions into what Hawks wanted as it was in his mind and Yamabe was just manipulating memories.

It was a new level of exhaustion for Hawks, training his mind was harder than he thought it would be. He adapted though, just like he always did. This would make him a better hero, being able to resist mind quirks. If he was able to resist Yamabe’s quirk, he’d no doubt be able to resist some random villain's quirk.

Another thing he started to learn about was the term honeypot . He didn’t like it, he didn’t like training to be one, but he was told to and he was always better at listening and following directions than anything else.

Hawks was twelve when he killed someone for the first time.

“This afternoon, instead of quirk training you’ll be in the gun range,” Saito said during lunch one day.

“Yes sir,” Hawks said. I hate gun training , he thought to himself.

He really didn’t like guns, but he understood why it was necessary. With his quirk, he had near 100% accuracy with his feathers, but he wouldn’t always have his feathers and there were some things that his feathers were bad at, so he needed to learn how to be near 100% accurate with things he didn’t have telepathic control over.

He was trained in guns, bows and arrows, knives, throwing stars, sticks, axes- just about anything one could possibly think of. If you could throw it, Hawks was trained to throw it. He actually liked projectile training in general, it came easy to him and he also learned how to use his feathers to assist him when allowed.

The only thing he didn’t like was guns. They were too bulky in his small hands and too loud for his ears, but Saito said he had to learn how to shoot, that it would be important later.

“Saito, sir, may I ask a question?” Hawks asked when Saito first told him he would be learning to shoot a gun. He was only ten.

“You may,” Saito said.

“Why do I need to learn to shoot a gun? Aren’t heroes supposed to- aren’t guns used to kill people?” Hawks asked, stumbling over his words slightly to phrase the question correctly.

“I see your concern,” Saito said. “But the kind of hero you are training to be is one that can do things other heroes won’t.”

“Sir?” Hawks tilted his head.

“You’ll learn more about that when you’re older; for now, focus on your training and trust us.”

“Of course sir.”

Hawks followed Saito to the gun range where Ejiri, a lean woman with brown hair and freckles, was waiting for them.

“Ma’am,” Hawks bowed to Eijiri as Saito left them alone.

“Come,” Ejiri said.

Hawks followed Eijiri to the gun range. It was a large room with various slots for different people to stand, separated by partitions. At the end of the room there were targets, all of them brand new as they were replaced every day. However, instead of stopping there, they continued to the other side of the room where a single door stood. He’d never been through that door, he’d actually never seen anyone open it before.

Today, they went through it. The other side was a simple room with a table, two chairs, and a viewing window into a smaller range. Through the window, Hawks could see someone sitting in a chair. They had an orange jumpsuit on and handcuffs on their wrists, so they were probably a prisoner.

“You have one task today,” Eijiri said, looking through the window at the prisoner. “Shoot that man.”

Hawks stopped breathing for a moment. What? Shoot him? Like, to kill? Heroes aren’t supposed to kill, why are they asking me to do this? “Ma’am? I’m sorry- shoot him?”

“Yes,” Eijiri said. “You have to kill this man.”

“But- Ma’am!” Hawks barely held back an alarmed chirp. “I- I'm sorry, ma’am, I don’t-”

“It’s alright,” Eijiri held a hand up to silence him. “I understand your concern.”

Hawks swallowed thickly. His wings flapped once and his eyes darted between the prisoner and Eijiri.

“Do you remember what you asked Saito when you first learned you would be learning to shoot a gun?” Eijiri sat down in one of the chairs, offering Hawks to sit in the other one.

“Yes ma’am,” Hawks said down on the edge of the seat, hands nervously picking at the hem of his shirt. “I asked why I needed to learn to shoot a gun if- if guns were used to kill people.”

“Sometimes, people need to be killed,” Eijiri sighed. She didn’t want to be the one to explain this to a child, but it was her job. “This man has killed over twenty people in the last three years, he was sentenced to death and we- the Commission- are in charge of that.”

Hawks blinked. He didn’t realize the Commission was in charge of things like that. It made sense, he supposed. They worked closely with the police and handled public relations more often than not. Something like this, something so controversial, would no doubt need to be handled delicately and there was no one better than the Commission to handle it.

“Now, most heroes do not kill,” Eijiri continued. “However, you are being trained to be what most heroes can not be.”

“What heroes can not be?” Hawks repeated softly.

“Yes, see, most heroes, no matter what, will not kill. Even if it is for the greater good. This is good for many reasons, but some people can only help the world if they die. That’s where we come in.” Eijiri said. “We kill those that are too dangerous to be alive and who outrun or outsmart the law.”

Hawks nodded, trying to wrap his head around what was being said to him.

“This man,” Eijiri pointed to the prisoner. “He is going to die today no matter what, we are using him to train you.”

Hawks stared at the man.

“In the future, you will be asked to kill people that would not have otherwise died, but the world will be better off without them.” Eijiri reached a hand to the center of the table and pushed the case that was sitting there toward Hawks. “When you’re ready, shoot him once in the head. It will be a quick and painless death.”

With that, Eijiri left the room, leaving Hawks alone with a gun, a prisoner, and a choice.

Hawks was thirteen when he began to wonder if what he was taught was normal.

For his birthday, he was allowed to go into the city with a small allowance for a few hours largely unsupervised. They never told him, but he knew most if not all his clothes had trackers somewhere on them, and he wasn’t entirely positive there wasn’t a tracker embedded in his skin. But, he wasn’t going to be escorted around! (Someone would almost certainly be tailing him, but if he just ignored that fact it was fine.)

Hawks walked out of a cafe, wings rustling slightly in the cold winter air. He sipped his mocha as he walked around Tokyo. He was beginning to notice things, things that normally wouldn’t stand out to him if he was with Saito or other Commission agents. But he was alone, his gaze could wander where he wanted it to.

He noticed families. He was in the shopping district; small cafes, local shops, and bookstores drawing everyone out to enjoy the rare winter sun. Tourists wandered around, talking and laughing loudly as they pointed out different stores. Families, mothers, fathers, and children walked from shop to shop.

The children tripped over their own feet, sometimes a flash of light or a spark or a boom echoed as their quirks misfired. Was that normal? For kids to not have complete control over their quirks?

He sat down on a park bench, looking over the sea of children as they played together. None of them looked older than ten. A small group of them ran around each other, laughter carried by the wind as one of their quirks activated, causing a little girl to start floating with a squeak.

It only took ten minutes from his initial wondering to conclude that, yes, it was normal for kids to have little to no control over their quirks. Even the oldest kids on the playground didn’t seem all that comfortable in using them and when they did it was in a clumsy, uncoordinated way.

By the time Hawks was ten, he was using his quirk with precise control. He had control over all his feathers, could fight with them, could fly, and was even able to use them to sense vibrations through them to tell how many people were in a room. These kids? They could barely keep their quirks from misfiring.

He stood, leaving the park and tossing his empty coffee cup in a trash can with a feather.

Walking down the streets, he listened to passing conversation with fascination.

“Did you see the new All Might movie? Everyone’s talking about it!”

“Yeah! I saw it last night, totally worth the hype in my opinion.”

“Lucky!”

Two young girls walked past him on the street.

“You hear about the heteromorph bar that opened last week?”

“Yeah! Want to go tonight?”

Two boys, one a snake heteromorph and the other a lizard, talked to each other on a bench Hawks passed.

It was interesting, the types of conversation his peers seemed to be having. He only talked to adults, and- yeah. He knew how to talk to teenagers, he knew what kind of things they talked about, but hearing it for himself was something else. He usually talked to adults, and usually about his training or his studies. He didn’t have any friends his age nor did he have many interests other than training and flying.

His time ran out and he met a commission agent on the side of the road and wordlessly got in the car they were driving. He was thankful for the opportunity to see the city like this, but it made him confused in a way he felt guilty about.

Hawks was fourteen when he heard the name ‘Keigo Takami’ again.

“Hawks,” the Commission President greeted him. “Please, sit.” She took her seat and gestured to the chair in front of her desk.

“Yes ma’am, thank you,” Hawks bowed lightly and took his seat.

The President’s office was large, barren, and clinical. Hawks had only been in it a handful of times, usually for mission assignments. It always made him feel even smaller than he already was.

“You are almost the perfect age for a mission we’ve been planning,” Madame President started, never one to beat around the bush. “At the beginning of the next school year, you will be enrolled at UA High.”

Hawks’ eyes widened. UA? That was one of, if not the best school in the heroics education game. He’d always wanted to go, but assumed he would never be able to go. No wonder the President was giving him this mission herself, this was incredibly high profile.

“This is an undercover mission,” she continued, pulling out several files and handing them over to Hawks. He flipped them open to see pictures of various pro heroes with staff positions listed next to them. These must be the teachers. “While enrolled at UA your job is to keep tabs on the teachers and students. Principal Nezu refuses to cooperate with the Commission in any capacity when he can get away with it so we have no idea how things are actually being run inside.”

Hawks nodded absentmindedly, flipping through the files on each teacher as the President spoke.

“As a student, you will excel in all of your classes, but not by a large margin,” Madame President explained. “You must gain the trust of not only your teachers but your fellow classmates as well. Due to that, you can not outshine them by such a large margin that they begin to loathe you.”

Hawks shifted in his seat, setting aside the hero course file and picking up the support course file.

“We are telling you now so you can study your cover story, we must be perfect to fool Nezu.” She handed him another file.

Keigo Takami .

Hawks stared at the name for a long moment. “Keigo Takami is dead,” he said, glancing up at the President.

“Yes, yes,” Madame President laughed. “Very good,” she sat straighter in her chair, hands folded in front of her. “He was dead, but we have a need for him again.”

Hawks nodded. Logically, he understood. He’s the perfect age, he’s trained, he knows how to integrate into any situation. But to do all that, he has to be Keigo again. He has to be Keigo, a scared little boy who cowered from his father and ran from the problems he was faced with.

He didn’t want to be that scared little boy again, but the Commission asked him to; and when they asked him to jump he didn't even ask how high.

Keigo Takami was six when he died. He was dead for nine years, and now he’s fifteen, and he has a job to do.