Chapter Text
Another year, another shuffle in the rankings.
All Might's retirement had come as a shock to the entire country. Decades of radiant smiles and an everlasting peace were suddenly brought to uneasy question, worries that the shadows would creep out from the alleyways with the Symbol of Peace gone at last. But where there were those in critique of such a selfish, cruel move, most had given their saddened applause and gratitudes for the years of service All Might had done.
And with the king's throne now free for the next in line, the Hero Public Safety Commission had scrambled to rearrange the heroes' spots in time for the next Hero Billboard Chart due anon.
That was where they were now, right in the afterparty to celebrate their new rankings, either promotion or demotion. A time for jubilation, as well as a mournful day to remember of All Might passing the torch to the next number one hero.
Hawks caught himself a flute of wine passing by on the waiter's tray, shooting him a quick smile before taking a shallow sip, barely a drop on his tongue—more for appearances, than anything.
The party was in full swing, as the saying went. Every single pro hero who had made it to the top hundred had been invited to the fancy venue, paid for in full on the Commission's dime. High ceilings, marble flooring, towering pillars lining the walls, sterling silverware, tiny little bite-sized morsels of food. Everything signalling for extravagance and luxury was being checked off the list, and at this rate, Hawks was beginning to expect some sort of dance soon to begin.
Aside from heroes attending this gala, however, were a litany of businessmen and women representing various different companies, hoping to strike a deal or string a few new connections for old business' sake. Sponsorships and advertising contracts and interviews and possible photoshoots, most likely. More work. More obligations. More people expecting smiles and small talk.
Hawks knew not to ever engage with them himself. If not for his own sake, then for the Commission's. He had his own PR manager around to sort it all out for him, and he was perfectly fine with that arrangement. Glad for it, actually.
"Hawks."
And there came the man of the hour.
"Yo, Endeavor!" Hawks made sure to put on his biggest grin for the newly crowned number one hero, half out of genuine pride swelling inside his chest, and half out of courtesy alone. His childhood idol, his role model, the man who wished to surpass the unscalable mountain that was All Might whilst everyone else remained complacent on the ground. "What a surprise! I wasn't expecting you to be around here. Alone, too! I thought you'd be swamped with agents hoping to get an interview with you."
They stood near the enormous windows overlooking the heart of the city, blinding lights and towering buildings crowding around to celebrate the evening. Endeavor's flames were turned down for safety tonight, a rare sight that must surely be a little jarring to most, but Hawks saw no issue with it.
The flame hero frowned at his words. "News reporters have strictly been barred from entering the building tonight. All Might's retirement has already caused a media firestorm. That won't die down with the new rankings having been announced live."
"Right, right." Hawks allowed himself a chuckle at that pun. It may or may not have been intentional for such a serious man, but he could appreciate it nonetheless.
"And I'm not alone," he tacked on, almost like an afterthought.
"What?"
Hawks watched with wide, curious eyes as Endeavor turned around, revealing a smaller—much smaller—man in black and white hiding behind. His eyes were pointed towards the entire hall, gobbling up the sights with an almost childlike wonder. The strange looking man only startled when he was nudged forth towards the spotlight with a bulky hand on his back, his boots practically squeaking against the marble floors when they remained frozen in place.
"Huh." Hawks took in the man's appearance with a tilt to his chin; a head of pure white hair, snowy skin, and brilliant azure eyes. He was wearing a rather gaudy black coat decorated in so many stitches that it had to be a fashion choice. Was he another hero, perhaps?
"He's not a hero," Endeavor said with a huff, "he just refused to put on a suit for this."
"I won't be caught dead wearing one and you know that," the man quipped back drily, snapping out of his daze as he folded his arms—and were those metal braces around his sleeves?
"You two seem close," Hawks remarked. "Colleagues, maybe?"
"He's my oldest son," Endeavor said.
Oh.
Hawks laughed as he took another gander at the strange man who was apparently another one of Endeavor's sons. "Really? Wow, uh, I can see the resemblance."
He really couldn't.
Rather than a bulky physique or a chiselled jawline or even a crown of red hair, the man had a slender frame that bordered on being classified as delicately frail, narrow shoulders and long fingers and a pale complexion stamped with several gold piercings on his ears and nose; though his earlobes were adorned with crescent-shaped studs in particular. His height seemed to be exaggerated from how lanky he really was, and his features were far softer than what Hawks would come to expect from the flame hero's son. He looked no older than twenty-five.
The only thing that connected them both appearance-wise were their eyes, both bright and intense like brilliant, powerful flames. Hawks idly wondered if his quirk had anything to do with fire at all.
"Hawks, this is Touya. Touya Todoroki," Endeavor introduced, oblivious to the thoughts fluttering inside the winged hero's head. "He works in my agency's support department to research and develop quirk-suppressant technology for those in need of it."
Quirk-suppressant technology, he said? For those in need of it as well. That was certainly interesting.
"I wasn't aware you even had a support department, Endeavor," Hawks remarked. "Nevertheless, it's a noble mission, but I can't say that I fully understand the why yet." he extended a gloved hand towards Todoroki, flashing his brightest smile and fluffing his wings. The picture-perfect look of warm pleasantries. "Regardless of work, it's always nice to meet another member of the esteemed Todoroki family. The name's Hawks."
"I know who you are," Todoroki drawled. He didn't even bother sparing the offered hand a glance.
Endeavor sighed before stepping forward, laying his own hand over his son's shoulder without placing any weight on him, positively drowning him under it alone. It was a small note taken when the hero's flames somehow began flaring away from Todoroki, like identical poles opposing each other, if that made sense.
"Anyway, he's here on behalf of the support department. The Commission's PR team has decided to arrange a collaboration to spread awareness on quirk discrimination some time ago. They've approached us earlier to confirm the proceedings, but I'm sure the term isn't foreign to you, Hawks."
Nope, it certainly wasn't. Mutant-types dealt with it all the time, unfortunately. Even those in the top ten. His feathers were often pulled and plucked at by the public on its own, nevermind the talons he hid inside the thick gloves and sturdy boots of his hero costume.
And that wasn't even mentioning the behavioural traits that came bundled with his quirk, but Hawks digressed.
"So, what you're saying is that there's some PR campaign in the works that I'm going to be involved in?" he mused. It wouldn't be the first time he was kept in the dark over such things, not that it mattered much to him, anyway. So long as it didn't interrupt his hero work, at least.
Todoroki's lips pulled down to a frown, and suddenly he resembled his father so much more with his posture and demeanour, hand to hip and all. "Normally, I'm only involved with case by case matters helping those with incompatible quirks, but apparently the Commission gets to choose the people who work on their pet projects, and a big part of their asks is that we revamp your hero costumes to better show off your quirks in a positive light. I'll be in charge of that, along with communications between you all and the support team. Hoorah."
Hawks tried not to make any assumptions with the black coat and piercings. He never knew, Todoroki’s tastes may differ greatly from his work. Although, in all honestly, the hero would absolutely hate to have to get any piercings on his wings. Just the thought of it alone sent violent shivers down his spine, and he nearly dropped his wine glass before proceeding to almost shatter it in an unyielding grip.
Todoroki raised a brow at that brief loss of composure. "Such grace. I can see where the Commission spent most of its efforts on your training, hero."
What in the world did that mean?
"You'll probably hear word from the Commission soon, Hawks," Endeavor quickly stepped in. "I just thought it would be a good idea to introduce you both first outside of work."
"This is still work, though," Todoroki grumbled back. "A lot of unnecessary overtime with this boring gala. Do they usually last this long?"
Hawks straightened his back and took a shaky sip of his wine. "Not used to parties?" he asked.
"He's not exactly used to being outside much. Health issues," Endeavor answered for him, keeping it brief and impersonal.
"Ah, I see."
And just like that, they were gone. Wandering off to the buffet table for some hors d'oeuvres, Hawks supposed.
It must surely be a time of celebration for them, what with Endeavor's big promotion and all that, regardless of how it was earned. He wondered if the rest of the Todoroki family was having another party back at home themselves. They don't exactly seem to be the sort for that, but the thought was nice.
It wasn't as if Hawks could expect anything similar for himself.
Just as predicted, his PR manager had caught him in his agency exactly one week afterwards.
He explained the briefing in Hawks' own sprawling office, complete with a cup of coffee and a thick stack of papers fresh off the printers. A publicity campaign to bring awareness and appreciation to those with mutant-type quirks. The Mutant Awareness Campaign, in full name. Miruko would be joining in with the efforts as well, along with Gang Orca, Shishido, and Uwabami. A rather strange assortment of heroes, really, but Hawks nodded along nonetheless.
"You will be working with the Endeavor Agency's support department as part of the celebration to his rise to the number one spot," his manager said. "Your first consultation will take place next Tuesday at exactly three sharp. I've already alerted your secretary to clear your schedule for that day. Is everything clear?"
"Crystal, boss." Hawks grinned, and he waved his manager off once the pile of paperwork had been dumped on his desk. The silent expectation for him to read through it all rang loud as the doors clicked shut, leaving the hero to his lonesome once more.
With a heavy sigh, Hawks went to work. No time like the present, he supposed, and his next patrol wasn't scheduled for another three hours. He had plenty of time to kill.
Just the gist of the entire campaign worded into text, with further guidelines and a stringent workflow as directed by the Commission itself. A couple of meetings, consultations, conceptions, design phases, a whole production period once approval was received, and then a slew of photography sessions and interviews and even a debut to show off the revamped costumes. A spectacle for the public eye.
Hawks wasn't sure if the changes would be permanent or not. He quite liked his current costume, honestly. It would be a shame to have to switch it up unless there were any actual practical improvements to be had.
In the centre of it all would be the support department's best team, of course. Their only team, now that Hawks was reading through the pages more thoroughly. It seemed that they were merely a separate branch almost independent to the Endeavor Agency in many ways, who sort of acted as a parent company above them.
Their mission was stated clearly in an italicised font: to provide assistance and aid for those with incompatible quirks through use of developmental technology on a case by case basis. Again, it was a noble cause, especially with the spectrum of quirks there was in the world. It would be literally impossible to find a one-size-fits-all solution to these matters. That meant that whatever clients they had had to be seen to individually. Each and every one of them.
They must surely be busy like this, right? Hawks would assume that their clients would mostly consist of everyday civilians looking to curb the downsides of their quirks. Most other support companies were known to focus solely on the heroics industry, so this was a rather unique business model to his eyes.
A small team of five individuals... one of whom who also happened to be Endeavor's oldest son. They must surely be a rather dynamic bunch. Do they all have fire quirks, too, as was the requirement for those working under Endeavor's agency? Maybe.
Hawks couldn't lie in claiming he wasn't looking forward to it, if only so he could see the man in black and white once again, formally. It wasn't often he got to meet someone who looked to be his age, and for them to be the son of his idol, too.
When the time came for Hawks to scamper off to the Endeavor Agency, he did it rather discreetly. He had shed his feathers off and stashed them neatly away in a messenger bag, leaving the little stubs of his wings to be hidden beneath a thick, brown coat. His hair was covered up with a beanie, too, and his aviators helped to conceal the markings around his eyes.
All in all, not a bad disguise if Hawks had to comment on it. He was wearing a simple red shirt, black jeans, and a thick pair of gloves underneath his coat as well. If this appointment was merely going to be a first consultation—probably to lay down the grounds of what he's looking for and analyse the cards he'll be given—then his dress-code shouldn't really be an issue to anyone, hopefully.
The woman at the front desk greeted him as he approached, his footsteps clicking against the polished floors of the foyer. Her hair was a dark brown that gradually turned red at the tips, flowing gently in the still air like gentle waves.
"Yo," Hawks began. "I'm here for an appointment with the support department. Three o' clock, right?"
There was a clacking of fingers typing along the keyboard, and the receptionist lit up once the schedule was pulled. "Oh, yes! Hawks, is it? They're waiting for you on the forty-seventh floor. The elevator to your left should take you straight up."
"Cool, thanks." he flashed her a quick smile before moving along. He'd been here enough times for the floorplan to be familiar. Just down the hallway and past the directory, and he was riding up one of the elevators with a push of a button.
The doors opened to another lobby lounge. A quiet one, rather than a sprawling space filled with boring, stuffy office cubicles. Passed the few tables and sofas here was another reception desk manned by someone in a mask and a top hat. As if things couldn't be anymore strange. The large windows encompassing one side of the entire space casted a bright, afternoon light. Quite cosy, in all honesty.
Hawks walked forwards to begin again. "Hi, it's Hawks. I have an appointment here? Right about now."
The man at the desk hummed, and he, too, began flitting his fingers over the keyboard. It seemed that every inch of his skin was covered up with fabric; long sleeves and gloves and a hood under his mask, hiding any and all identifiable features.
"Ah, right on time," the man cheered in a strange accent. "Right this way, Hawks."
He stood up from his chair and gestured towards the side, escorting the number two hero through the wide hallway leading behind the wall separating the lobby and the support department proper.
Well, true to the agency's size, the place was huge. The ceiling stood at close to five times Hawks' height, and the floorplan was left wide open with every desk pushed off to one end of the room where several boards and dress forms and racks were placed nearby. Stacks and stacks of paper were also laid strewn about every available surface as the hero strode past, gliding through the side of the room where the organised chaos was just barely messy enough to be considered somewhat hazardous.
On the opposite corner were mirrors surrounding a raised platform, most likely used for costume fittings. It was lit up by the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the business district of Musutafu.
This entire floor was more of a studio than a boring old office, that was for sure.
"The team's currently finishing up on another project right now," the man in the mask said. "They'll be along within five minutes, rest assured. You can wait inside the consultation room in the meantime."
"Sure." Hawks stood behind whilst the man unlocked the door to the next room, turning on the lights and allowing him entrance with a brief little bow.
"Do you need any refreshments?" he asked. "We have a selection of teas if you're interested. Or perhaps you're more into coffee, instead?"
"Huh? Oh, I guess coffee's fine," the hero answered as he set his messenger bag on the table. "Some sugar would be nice, too."
"Very well, then."
Instead of turning heel and leaving, however, the man reached a gloved hand behind his head, making sure to lay his palm out in full view first, as if to show Hawks that he had nothing in them. He let out a distinctive hum as he pulled three blue marbles out of thin air, each held between the gaps of his fingers and glinting in the light, flaunted like precious jewellery meant to catch the eye.
And suffice it to say, Hawks found himself staring. Mostly out of confusion, though.
In the next moment, the man caught the marbles back into his palm and flicked one up high into the air, placing another one onto the table where it glowed and turned right into a steaming cup of coffee before Hawks' very eyes. The last marble on the man's palm materialised into a silver stirrer whilst the one plummeting from the air turned into three cubes of sugar that splashed spot on into the cup.
"Wha—"
"Your coffee," the man announced, with far too much glee underneath that blank mask he wore. He placed the stirrer onto the plate beneath the cup, nudging it towards the hero to rub in the surprise.
Alright, then...
"Thank you?" he honestly didn't know what else to say to that.
"You're very welcome, Hawks."
With one last graceful bow, the man excused himself from the consultation room with a reminder that the hero will be seen momentarily. Whilst in the brief stint of silence, broken occasionally with the clinking of silver against the porcelain coffee cup, Hawks filed away one of the questions he had brewed.
Definitely not a fire quirk.
Maybe Endeavor wasn't in charge of deciding who worked in his support department, or maybe he just didn't care so long as it wasn't his hero agency proper. It was the sidekicks and pro heroes and even the receptionist down in the main lobby who all possessed fire-based quirks, after all. The support department certainly looked like a lesser known entity, too. That in itself stoked a little more curiosity within the winged hero.
A firm set of knocks on the door snapped Hawks out of his thoughts, and he straightened his back out of reflex as it clicked open only a second afterwards. In came a man with shaggy hair coloured a pale blue spilling down his shoulders and crimson eyes, a tired frown set across his—rather chapped—lips. He was wearing a plain black shirt and jeans that frayed at the seams, and his shoes matched the colour of his eyes exactly.
The only thing that stood out from his otherwise ordinary appearance were the silver bands he wore on both his wrists, with tiny, almost impractical little screens on them similar to digital watches; except they clearly weren't meant to tell the time whatsoever. They were far too sleek and high-tech to be mistaken for any regular set of bracelets.
"So you're Hawks, huh?"
"The one and only." the hero put on his signature smile whilst he moved his aviators to rest atop his head. Hopefully, the markings around his eyes confirmed his identity well enough. "And you are?"
"Tenko Shimura," the man answered tepidly. "I'm the head of the support department. The others will be here right about—"
"We’re here! We're late!"
"—now."
Suddenly the room was pouring with a few more individuals, all of whom stood out in their own strange ways, but the only recognisable face was Todoroki as he entered last, shutting the door with a quiet click.
"Ah, long time no see, Todoroki!" Hawks made sure to grin extra wide for the grumpy snowflake right at the back. "Still wearing that gaudy coat, huh? Are you sure you're not a hero with that sort of costume?"
"What? It's flame retardant," Todoroki quipped. "You ever been around here, hero? Things get set on fire almost everyday."
Yeah, that made sense. Like how a swimming pool was susceptible to people drowning, or something of the like—or how the winged hero's own agency was plagued with a few stashes and nests around the offices. And judging by the one lizard with purple hair in their midst and the man with those marbles earlier, Hawks would bet that their little group wasn't exactly of the typical sort.
He raised his hands up in surrender nonetheless.
"Anyway, I suppose we should start with introducing the party," Shimura said, scratching at the back of his neck whilst he gestured to the others one by one, listing them off. "The one in the mask is Bubaigawara; he helps to take measurements and adjust for fittings. Don't question anything he says. Just go with it. Then there's Iguchi; he deals mostly with armour and support weapons, along with any mutant-type clients we get. You can ask him for any upgrades for your current costume if you need it. The girl over there is Toga; she's been interning here for her high school but apparently she wants to actually join us part-time after that’s done." the girl in question nodded fervently, flashing a set of sharp fangs and wide, gleeful eyes.
"And then there's this bastard." Shimura patted a hand on Todoroki’s shoulder next, shaking him roughly in a way that screamed familiarity. Enough to push and prod without fear of being bitten, at least. "You know him already, don't you? Big boss' tiny son who can't lift his own meagre weight in equipment. He does practically everything, though. The 'jack of all traits, master of few' sort of character. You can really tell where he gets his bootstrapper genes from."
"Can you not?" Todoroki groused, but he made no move to shove Shimura away. That spoke volumes more than his constipated expression.
"I'm just singing your praise, Snowflake. Oh, and the guy out front who brought you in is Sako. I'm willing to bet he showed you a magic trick, or something."
"Definitely something," Hawks chuckled, lifting his cup of coffee for emphasis before he took a long sip. Surprisingly enough, it wasn't all too sweet, nor did it taste all too bad.
With the introductions over and done with, everyone went ahead to take a seat right at the table, leaving some space before Hawks himself. The closest to him was Todoroki, who somehow produced a small notebook and a pencil shaved down to about the length of his pinkie from inside his coat. A hidden pocket. How practical.
And with all the pleasantries and the briefest of small talk out of the way, the meeting began like any other. Hawks found himself tuning out about half of everything Shimura said, something about a list of desires given to them from the Commission prior to today and how it would be nice for the hero to look through them, just to see if there was anything he's particularly against.
Bubaigawara also took his turn to ask what Hawks was looking for in regards to any upgrades to his costume—before insulting the visor he wore for being impractical and downright hindering. No one else even batted an eye to the sudden switch, though, so the hero shook it off. Not that he had even been offended in the first place.
"I don't really have anything to say," he admitted. "Honestly, I'm fine with the way my costume looks, and I'm not really the sort of hero who likes to carry around bulky support items. I'm built for speed, you know? And my feathers are good enough for any weapons I might need."
"Fierce Wings," Todoroki recalled, tapping the end of his pencil against his cheek in contemplation. "Your quirk lets you detach the feathers on your wings and control them telekinetically. You're also able to perfectly control almost a hundred individual feathers at once; sharpen them, soften them, sense vibrations through them, and carry a fully grown adult with even the smallest feather. It's quite the flashy power you have there, hero."
"And really overpowered," Shimura mumbled. "Do you have any glaring weaknesses?"
Who, him? Well, certainly not any that Hawks could find easy solutions to, and his training with the Commission had done well to eliminate a lot of his worries on that front.
"I suppose..." he bit the bottom his lip, racking his brain for some sort of answer, "fire, I guess? It's a pretty obvious one." and the biggest.
Todoroki huffed out a quiet laugh at that.
"Really ironic, considering where we are," Iguchi said to his friends.
"Yeah, I get that a lot," the hero chirped.
"It's a start, at least," Shimura shrugged, "and that should be about it. This is merely just an obligation for us to get to know each other. We'll have the next meeting in a few weeks once we decide on a couple of designs to share with you, though the Commission has requested that we send it through them first."
Of course they had. Hawks refrained from rolling his eyes as the man continued.
"In future, it'll just be Todoroki seeing you until you're called in for the fittings and adjustments. If you have any questions or want updates from us, just open up his chat and pray that he'll respond within a month."
This time, the hero allowed himself a hearty laugh that was mostly genuine. "That's funny, man."
"You think?" Todoroki smirked, rather catlike and dry. "You're tempting fate with that."
Well, maybe the hero was. What would he do about that, then?
"Nah, just figured someone with your style would definitely play hard to get," Hawks teased instead, stoking the smoking wood to see if it would spark.
Todoroki merely shrugged his shoulders, the metal braces on his arms clinking from the movement. "You keep thinking that, hero."
In the brief silence that followed, Hawks picked up Toga's whisper into Bubaigawara's ear, "Is this drama?" she asked, a hand cupped over to hide her mouth. Typical teenage stuff.
Hawks could only keep his smile on until he was escorted back out to the elevators.
This was surely going to be an interesting adventure.