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Surviving the Shie Hassaikai Raid had been a close thing, well and truly. Mirai knew that if Midoriya had been a step slower, or the paramedics had been just a touch less efficient, then he would have succumbed to the injuries he’d acquired on the battlefield. Modern healing quirks really were incredible, but there was only so much they could do, and Mirai knew that two of the most important components contributing to one’s survival after intense trauma were speed and luck. He was grateful, immensely so, to have walked away from Overhaul and his minions successfully.

Of course, it wasn’t all easy. The injury to his arm had been too severe to fix, so he’d walked out of the hospital with a form recommending several prosthetics centres tucked into his bag. His torso, also, was almost bisected by both trauma and surgery scars. As he joked to All Might, in an attempt to lighten the mood, they now matched.

Still, for all the painkillers he was hopped up on, it was good to be out of the hospital. Even if he had to deal with an excruciatingly awkward conversation with All Might and Midoriya’s sobbing tirade about how relieved he was that Nighteye was alright. He just tried not to make eye contact with either of them and patted Midoriya’s green curls in an attempt at comfort. That only made the boy cry more, which in turn made Mirai regret that the spike hadn’t taken him out completely. Forget living to watch Mirio become a true hero, death would be worth it if he could only avoid more stunted social interactions.

It was more heartbreaking to see Mirio himself back at UA. Mirai had been updated on the unfortunate condition of his quirk, but as per usual, the boy was a ray of sunshine, even in the face of being quirkless, just offering the same relief that he hadn’t died.

(It was only later when Suneater and the first-year UA students had been ushered away that a crack appeared. Mirai wasn’t good at comforting people, but he did his best for Mirio, even as the boy’s tears broke his heart.)

Mirai left UA with a sense of accomplishment. Overhaul was in custody, now lacking a quirk thanks to the League of Villains, and though Mirio’s power was another matter, Mirai was confident that, if they trained Eri more, it could be restored. He arrived home tired but fulfilled, expecting his obligations to the hero community to be done, at least until he’d completely healed up again.

He only wished that were the case.

 


 

Mirai had only gone to the meeting so that he could hear about the updates on the League of Villains. Both Bubble Girl and Centipeder had volunteered to go in his place, citing his injuries, which were still healing up, but he’d insisted. The last thing he wanted to do was be out of the loop where the League was concerned. They had, after all, permanently mutilated the man that Nighteye had almost died to bring to justice.

(Frankly, that had been satisfying to learn. An arm for an arm. It seemed fitting. Also, Overhaul was a bitch.)

The point was, he’d gone to make sure that he was kept in the loop about the League’s movements. He had not gone to blow open a government conspiracy, give himself mild psychological trauma and become potentially lifelong friends with a KFC Bucket that could walk and talk. Yet somehow, because apparently barely dodging death wasn’t enough excitement for one year, he managed to do all of those things.

It had been an accident, really. He’d been exhausted; a mixture of pain medication and long, dull meetings were not exactly a combination that inspired high focus and attentiveness. By the end of the three-hour briefing, he was awake only by virtue of sheer will (and the gentle nudges that Fatgum aimed at his shoulder) and he hadn’t been thinking entirely straight.

One hero had mentioned that they would be scoping out one of the villain’s purported hiding places, and Mirai had, with opioids still in his system, thought it a good idea to check how said mission would go, in preparation for any other work he might have to do.

But with one arm missing, exhaustion weighing his entire body down, and poor coordination plaguing him, he managed to miss, just as his quirk activated itself.

There were a lot of flashing images of clear sky, some darkened alleys, a familiar scarred face, and then-

Oh. Wow. Mirai separated his hand from the arm it had fallen on, looking with a cold feeling in his chest at the blinking face of Hawks. The hero’s wings fluttered gently.

“Uhh, hiya? You alright?” Mirai blinked, then straightened up, his exhaustion forgotten as he processed what he had just seen.

“I’m fine.” He said simply. “My apologies, my coordination has been a little thrown recently.”

Hawks winced in sympathy. “Ahh, yeah, I heard about the raid. Sorry about those injuries.”

Mirai shrugged, studying the young man’s face carefully. Hawks had been a highly respected and highly ranked hero for a long while, which was part of what made the vision he’d just seen so strange and ill-fitting.

But still, it was one thing to consort with villains, it was another entirely to-

He coughed slightly, hoping that his face didn’t give away any of his embarrassment. What heroes did with their free time was their own concern, of course, but most heroes didn’t tend to seek out villains, and then proceed to sleep with them-

“It’s nothing.” He murmured. “Everything we do is in the name of the greater good, correct?”

Hawks grinned, looking unbothered by the coldness that Mirai knew had just been present in his voice. “Of course.”

A hero from the other side of the room called out to the winged hero, and the blond threw Mirai an apologetic grin. “Anyway, nice to meet you. You and your team did incredibly on that raid.”

Mirai bowed slightly, confusion rising when he noted how sincere the other hero’s tone was. “Thank you.” He said, nodding to the woman across the way. “You’d best attend to that.”

Hawks nodded, throwing him a peace sign before slipping away through the crowds, leaving Mirai with churning thoughts.

 


 

As disquieting as it was to learn that Hawks had apparently decided that, of all people, Dabi made an appropriate bedfellow, it was only more infuriating to learn that, apparently, no one else had picked up on odd behaviour from the hero. Mirai had done his best to be subtle, but he had a feeling that a few people thought his injuries were making him go loopy. He hadn’t named Hawks specifically, but he had put a lot of emphasis on top-ranking heroes when he asked about suspicious activity. But no one had anything to say. Everything he heard about Hawks was positive. If he didn’t have an uncomfortably intimate view of the hero’s free time, he would have been inclined to be pleased that Japan had such a well-reputed hero at the top of their charts.

But he knew what he’d seen with Foresight, and he didn’t know what Hawks was playing at, but the hero wasn’t going to get away with consorting with villains. Mirai refused to let society fall because of a squawking pigeon like Hawks.

Eventually, he decided that all there was to it was to talk to the hero. Files had given up nothing, as had asking around. Hints that he’d dropped to other heroes had gone mostly unnoticed, and all Mirai wanted was an explanation.

Meeting in private would have potentially been a recipe for disaster, so Mirai reached out to him and requested a meeting in a small café in downtown Fukuoka. It was public, so Hawks couldn’t do anything to him without having to expose potentially villainous traits, but also private enough that, if Hawks had a legitimate explanation, then he wouldn’t be exposing anything confidential to random strangers. Mirai was rather proud of himself for crafting the meeting so well. He wasn’t a big fan of lunch meetings, both because he disliked talking to people over food (the thought of anyone talking to him while chewing was enough to make him want to flee to the Dominican Republic) and because he usually left meetings like this to his PR team or someone similar.

He straightened up in his chair when Hawks strolled through the door, throwing a wink and charming grin at the waitress as he did so, before spotting Mirai and weaving his way over. Mirai had made sure to get a stool for the hero, to accommodate his wings, which aroused a delighted chirping noise from the hero when he noticed. Mirai raised an eyebrow when Hawks clapped a hand over his mouth, laughing nervously.

“Ahh, sorry, I promise I don’t normally chirp like that,” he said, before sitting, a confused but polite smile replacing the sheepish look. “So, what did you want to meet about?”

Mirai shifted slightly, fixing Hawks with a piercing look, not missing how the hero’s eyes widened and he shrunk down ever so slightly. He could be intimidating, he knew that, but seeing even Japan’s presumptive Number Two hero look afraid was a little bit of a strike to the gut. He relaxed the glare slightly, but Hawks’ terror didn’t seem to lighten up. Odd.

“Tell me, Hawks, do you know what my quirk is capable of?” he asked simply, picking up the menu and skimming across it. Hawks, looking distinctly like he wanted to run for the exit, slowly did the same.

“I don’t really know the specifics, no,” he admitted, eyes fixed on Nighteye rather than the menu. “Do tell?”

“My quirk, Foresight, allows me to view the future actions that someone will take if I make physical contact with them. It has a very high degree of accuracy.” He explained clinically. “You probably aren’t aware, but at our last meeting, I accidentally used it on you.”

Hawks, who had been fidgeting nervously, up to that point, went completely still.

“…Oh.” The hero looked like he didn’t know quite what to say. “Well, this is awkward.”

Mirai shot him a deadpan look. “You don’t say. Can you explain why you’ve seen fit to consort with villains?”

Consorting? I’m not-”

“Okay, fine.” Mirai huffed, impatient. “Why are you fucking villains-”

Hawks made a noise like a car trying to restart. Odd. Mirai had always pinned him as more a ‘Wii music on constant loop mentally’ kind of person.

“There…is an explanation for that.” Hawks said. Mirai waited, growing gradually more frustrated by the silence on Hawks’ end.

“Well?”

“Oh, right. Well, you see, uhhh…” Hawks trailed off. “Dabi is……hot.”

Mirai stared at him. “So, you’ve thrown away the code of heroism because he’s attractive to you? That’s not much of an excuse.”

“It wasn’t an excuse, it was a pun.”

Mirai stared at him, resisting the urge to call the police on the spot. “Right.”

Hawks grinned, completely failing to not look guilty as sin. “So…uhh…”

“You may not leave,” Mirai said, eying the hero critically when he visibly slumped at those words. “Care to explain?”

“Hahahahaha…no?” the hero tried. Mirai stared him down again. “Or uhh...ya know...maybe???”

“That’s more like it,” Mirai said. “Start talking, now.”

 


 

Mirai sighed. He’d looked throughout all of the virtual files he had. He’d scoured every handbook about Heroic Codes of Conduct, every file that he’d ever had access to about the Hero Public Safety Commission, and even old reports from other heroes. He’d even gone to the darkest pits of internet hell – even fucking Bing – and he’d come up empty-handed. There was technically nothing in the law stating that a hero could not have no-strings-attached sex with a villain. It was ridiculous and seemed like an obvious flaw in the system of Japanese law, but he could hardly remedy the situation without getting some seriously suspicious questions.

So, for now, Hawks was in the legal right of things. That didn’t mean Nighteye had to be happy about it.

Surely, this odd tryst between the Number Two Hero and a notorious, fire-wielding villain couldn’t have gone completely undetected? Hawks was a person constantly surrounded by people, whether they be sidekicks, civilians or otherwise; how had this gone undetected for so long? He knew, at the very least, that the HPSC kept a close eye on their heroes. How had this slipped their notice?

A thought occurred to him. Perhaps the HPSC did know about Hawks’ relationship with the villain. The eye they kept on high-ranked heroes was a particularly omniscient one, so it made sense that they would be aware of Hawks’ movements.

It wouldn’t be a surprise; intercourse could lower people’s inhibitions and subconsciously build trust. It would make sense for them to authorise continued meetings if the possibility of Dabi releasing information was present.

A worse thought occurred to him. What if, rather than this being an ill-advised affair between a hero and villain that the Commission had decided to take advantage of, this had been something ordered by the organisation? Mirai didn’t know Hawks well, but he was a bright young man, and he seemed to sincerely care for Japan’s people and future; he didn’t deserve to essentially be trafficked out for the sake of a mission, no matter what the benefit would be.

Mirai closed his wheezing laptop with a decisive look on his face. He needed to get to the bottom of this.

 


 

“You realise that it’s 3 in the morning, right?” Hawks sighed when Mirai knocked on his apartment door. Truthfully, he hadn’t – he’d been so deep in his research that he’d put no attention towards how much time had been passing – but he hardly wanted the other to know that.

“May I come in?” he asked. The blond sighed but opened the door wider. Mirai couldn’t help but notice his clothes looked a little messy, like they’d been hastily thrown on, and realised with a start that there may have been a reason that Hawks had been so fast to answer the door. He raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry for the interruption.”

The hero’s neck flushed red, and Mirai did his best to not immediately check for signs of a villain as he entered the sitting room. The space was clean, if a little sparse, and he noted the wide-open sitting room window as he heard Hawks close and lock the door behind him. The hero cursed lowly when he saw the open window, crossing the room to shut it.

“So, what did you need?” Hawks sighed, looking like he very much wished that Dabi were still here rather than Nighteye. Mirai couldn’t blame him.

“I was thinking about our discussion the other day,” Mirai said. “And I came to the rational conclusion that, if this affair of yours has been going on for a significant amount of time, it is highly likely that at least one person outside of Dabi and yourself is aware. I surmised, based on this, that the Commission is likely aware of this as well.”

Hawks reddened again. “I mean…yes, but what does that-”

“I came to ask whether or not this relationship with Dabi is one you instigated of your own free will, or if it was one whose existence was mandated by the Commission,” Mirai said, tone severe. “And yes, I’m afraid it couldn’t wait.”

Hawks blinked owlishly before he sighed.

“You’re way too invested in this, huh.” He groaned, rubbing his eyes. “Okay, fuck it, fine.” He averted his eyes, looking a little embarrassed. “I was assigned to do some work on the League of Villains, yes, but my whole…thing with Dabi, uhh,” he coughed, “that came about without their say so. They did tell me to continue it when they found out, though.”

Mirai watched him carefully for a moment before deeming him truthful, nodding in satisfaction. “Good. I will say, though, if they advise you further about the relationship, take it with a grain of salt.”

“Oh, I know, but I can tell they have the greater good at heart, you know? Besides, they trained me well and I know what they’re like.”

“Oh? They did?”

“Yeah, they scouted me when I was like, 7 or something, so believe me, I have plenty of experience with them.”

Mirai paused as that statement sunk in fully.

“I’m sorry, they what?"

 


 

"I can have security called on you, Nighteye if you do not cease this foolishness." The Commissioner snapped, her eyes betraying her apprehension despite the fact that she was currently staring down a sleep-deprived, one-armed man with a very angry look on his face and not a legitimate villain of any kind. Was Mirai's glare really that bad?

"Go ahead," Mirai snapped. "Call them. But while you wait for your security team to arrive, you can explain why you saw fit to scout and train a 7-year-old boy-"

"The methods that the Commission utilises to train heroes and protect society are none of your concern, Nighteye. Hawks was prepared for the training we offered him and happy to partake."

Mirai saw red. "He was a child. Children do not have a good grasp of the consequences of major decisions like that. Even if he was happy to train at such a young age as you claim, that is still horrendously unethical behaviour, and from a Hero Commission no less."

“The matter of Hawks is no concern of yours, Nighteye.” The Commissioner repeated, sending him a steely look. “I would recommend you drop this.”

“I hope for your sake that Hawks was given as much a chance to enjoy his childhood as he was to train,” Mirai said, acknowledging that for now, he would have to let this slide. He would keep a close eye on Hawks, though. The other hero was experienced, yes, but he was still only young, and Mirai was starting to suspect that the 22-year-old had a bit more pressure on his shoulders than he probably should.

Having a relationship with a villain was deeply inadvisable, yes, but somehow, the behaviour of the Commission was what rubbed him the wrong way more.

He walked out of the building feeling hollow and determined in equal measure.

 


 

It was good to see Eri in better shape when Mirai next visited UA. He had been unsure whether the little girl would remember him; he had hoped that, if she did, she wouldn’t look at his prosthetic arm and blame herself.

Frankly, of all the things he had expected of the small, fragile girl, a tentative but genuine smile and a warm pair of arms ensconcing his leg in a hug were not it. He was happy to accept it, though, even as he gently told her that her many thank-yous were unnecessary. She already seemed happier, just a month or so out from being freed from Chisaki’s control. Mirai was glad to see it. As much as he came off as sharp and caustic at times, he’d always had a soft spot for children, and little Eri was even kinder than most.

Her small fingers ended up holding gently to the fingers of his prosthetic arm as she cheerfully recounted her experience at the Cultural Festival, which made Mirai smile a little. He was glad to hear that she was settling into the wider world and enjoying some normal things. Children deserved to be happy. The thought brought Hawks’ situation back to mind, and he did his best to suppress the frown that threatened to arise. It was a troubling set of circumstances, to say the least, and he wasn’t sure that he wanted to probe further, as much as he felt it was necessary to do so.

“And those are the dorms where Izu-nii-san lives.” Eri happily chattered, pointing at one of the large brick buildings they were walking past. Mirai smiled slightly. He had been harsh to Midoriya, yes, and he would maintain that – the kid was worthy of holding One for All, he knew that now, but that didn’t mean that major improvements weren’t in order – but he was a good person. He had definitely made a difference to little Eri, anyway.

“I see,” Mirai said, shifting his hand slightly and blinking when Eri abruptly flinched, some of her cheerfulness faded away.

Flinch reflex. But hers was too pronounced. A sign of physical abuse, obviously. Mirai’s stomach turned, and he gently shifted so he was kneeling. “I’m sorry.”

Eri looked at him, massive eyes round with confusion. “What for, mister?”

“When I moved my hand just now, I scared you, didn’t I?” Eri blinked but didn’t deny it. “I should have realised, so I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” Eri murmured. “You…your arm got lost because of-”

“Overhaul,” Mirai interjected, gently patting the girl on the head and making sure that he moved his arm in a way that wasn’t frightening to her. “You’re right.”

Eri blinked up at him, still looking a little confused, but didn’t argue with him. That was good; perhaps, with time, he could properly help convince her of how manifestly innocent she was. She deserved, at the very least to be aware of who was really to blame for everything that had happened in the raid.

“Now, you mentioned that Mirio has a day off, right? Why don’t we go see him?”

Eri positively beamed, grabbed his prosthetic arm again, and tugged him away.

 


 

Mirai eyed Hawks over the long meeting table. A large group of heroes had been called in, once again, to discuss the movements of the League, though they didn’t seem to be doing well at organising all of their information. He almost wanted to speak, to mention that surely, Hawks would know how long ago the villains had been in Fukuoka, but he kept his mouth shut. Knowing that Hawks was sleeping with a villain was troubling, but the reaction of the Commission when he’d raised his concerns was almost more so.

He looked at the winged hero. The man looked tired, as much as the light but serious look on his face seemed to be trying to dispute that. Under the alert expression he had hastily plastered over the peeling façade, there was tension lining his shoulders, a touch of strain around his eyes and a set to his jaw which indicated he was having trouble not clenching it.

Mirai forced his attention back to the task at hand. As much as he wanted to focus on the matter of Hawks – and the niggling feeling he had that there was more at play with the Commission than the hero was telling him – he did have a job to do. Just because he likely wouldn’t ever be fit for fieldwork again, didn’t mean that he didn’t still have a responsibility to his employees to do the best office work he possibly could.

Still, as the other heroes filtered out of the room as the meeting drew to a close, he found himself trailing after the winged man again.

“Oh, hey Nighteye-”

“You look exhausted.” Mirai interrupted bluntly, watching as the polite smile on Hawks’ face froze a little.

Thanks, man,” Hawks said simply, folding his arms, “that’s what I like to hear.”

“Don’t get sarcastic.” Mirai sighed. “What is it? Relationship troubles?”

Hawks gave him a wry look. “No, definitely not.” Despite the man’s words, Mirai sensed a touch of hurt in his voice, and had to wonder whether the hero had gotten a lot more involved with Dabi than on a purely physical level. It would definitely make the whole investigation into the League harder. The Commission might have ordered Hawks to investigate the villains, and also asked him to capitalise on the sexual relationship he had with the scarred man, but he doubted they had put much thought towards Hawks’ feelings on the whole matter.

“You know, Hawks, if you do need help, I am here,” he said, tone a little gentler. “I understand that most of our relationship thus far has been built on barbed conversations, but I can offer support if you ever need it.”

The look in Hawks’ eyes was oddly raw when Mirai said that, as if the man were unused to such a thing.

“Right, uh, thanks…I’ll keep that in mind.”

 The man turned to go, jumping back a little in alarm when another hero abruptly exited a door and strolled past. Nighteye felt his stomach plunge as the hero shook himself and walked away.

Flinch reflex.

Too pronounced to be natural.

Nighteye was going to kill someone.

 


 

“Uhh, sir, what are you doing?” Bubble Girl asked. Mirai glanced at her as he continued to type. He knew that his sidekicks had been worried about him recently, not least for the serious injuries he’d obtained from Overhaul. But in the last few days, their concern seemed to have been aimed more at his activities and demeanour than his physical state. He was aware that he probably looked a little ruffled, but that was hardly his main concern right now.

He had done a lot of thinking about Hawks’ reaction, and come to the conclusion that such a thing was probably less a response to hero work and more due to some past trauma of some kind. He’d briefly considered whether or not Dabi had a role in it, but he’d quickly dismissed that idea. Hawks might have mostly been continuing their relationship for his mission, as he’d claimed, but Nighteye had seen the warmth in his eyes that seemed to arise almost subconsciously when he spoke about the villain. He doubted Hawks would be so fond of someone abusive.

Besides, his intuition told him otherwise. As wicked as Dabi was, he just didn’t strike Mirai as the type to hurt a partner. So, he’d looked elsewhere.

Hawks clearly wasn’t a person who dated much, which perhaps explained why he’d fallen into a relationship with a villain so quickly, even without the say-so of the Commission. That left Nighteye with no potential past lovers to go and severely threaten and or mutilate, so he’d zeroed in on the only other entity that he knew for a fact had a significant impact on Hawks’ life.

“Hacking into the confidential files of the Commission to see if there’s any evidence of child abuse.” Mirai breezily answered Bubble Girl’s question, ignoring how her jaw slackened and opting to instead take another sip of coffee.

“Right…um, Sir, are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

“Perfectly fine. But I have a suspicion that the Commission may have committed a few ethics violations. Care to assist me?”

Bubble Girl stared at him, stared at his laptop, then shrugged, and sat down next to him. “Of course.”

Three hours later saw them with access, and also saw Bubble Girl desperately holding onto Mirai’s real arm as he struggled to break free, determined to slaughter half the personnel at the Commission before the day was out.

“Sir, no!” she squeaked. “We need to be more subtle about this! The Commission won’t be happy if you let them know that we’re aware of what they’ve been doing!” she gave one final tug, just strong enough to send them both toppling to the floor. Mirai sat up with a huff. He knew that his sidekick was right, but that didn’t make him feel any happier. Bubble Girl, seemingly satisfied that he wasn’t going to commit mass murder like he so dearly desired, let go of him, fetching the laptop that had been discarded in the brief struggle. She glanced at the screen, cocking her head to the side. Nighteye ignored her as she tapped around, shaking his head incredulously.

The Commission was training child soldiers. He almost couldn’t wrap his head around it. They’d had a whole program dedicated to the horrifying practice, files upon files detailing abuses committed against children, and many of them about the abuses committed against Hawks specifically. The winged hero seemed to have been a point of pride of sorts for the program, which was as nauseating as it was unsurprising.

How could anyone have let this happen? And for so long? How could society prop itself up as good when this was what the reigning authority on heroism did behind the scenes?

“Bubble Girl,” he said, “I know what it’s time to do.”

“Yes, Sir?” she sounded frightened. Good. These were frightening times.

“I,” he said, “am about to go absolutely feral.”

 


 

Mirai probably should have felt guilty; after all, some innocent people were working at the Commission. But then again, he also didn’t care, and wanted them all to understand their own crimes.

Enlisting the help of Centipeder to buy several thousand pages worth of paper and print out all of the documents was an easy task; highlighting instances of abuse, carrying those thousands of pages’ worth of crimes and scattering them was a lot harder. Especially with his prosthetic arm. He ended up giving Mirio a call, and though the kid didn’t know exactly what they were doing, he was happy to help after Mirai pulled him aside and explained the situation a little.

All in all, spreading the pages all over the building took a good forty minutes; it was several storeys tall, after all, but there was a strong sense of satisfaction from all parties when Mirio happily pulled the fire alarm as they were leaving, and watched from a distance as people spilt into the hallways, noted the pages, and started to read with dawning horror.

“Well, I think our job here is done,” Mirio said happily, turning to Mirai with a gleam in his eye. “Any other plans to make the Commission pay?”

Mirai looked at him.

“I have a few.”

 


 

“Hawks, listen up -” Mirai said, marching unannounced into his apartment. “I was going to ask you something about-” he looked up from the article he’d been reading, blinking when he realised that he really should have been paying more attention.

Dabi cocked his head at him. “Oh, a hero. Morning.”

“Ahh, you’re Dabi.” He said, tone cool and clinical. “I should have expected to run into you sooner or later.”

The villain stretched out languidly on Hawks’ couch, crossing his ankles and surveying Nighteye calmly. He didn’t look alarmed to see a pro hero, though Mirai couldn’t blame him; he had one arm, a dodgy digestive system and the general look of a stockbroker that hadn’t made it big 'Wolf of Wall Street' style.

“Right. You’re Sir Nighteye, aren’t you? One of those assholes who raided Overhaul’s complex.”

“Indeed. And you’re one of those ‘assholes’ who helped strip him of two limbs, correct?” Dabi just grinned, looking completely unashamed.

Mirai made eye contact with the villain, and a sort of understanding passed between them. Dabi chuckled. “Oh? You approve?”

“Of course not. As a hero, I cannot endorse harm coming to any individual.” He said. “But I will refrain from condemning that particular incident.”

Dabi grinned like a cat that had just caught an animal between its teeth. “Finally, a hero with some fucking sense.”

“Hey, Dabs, did you get any-” Hawks strolled into the living room, hair wet from what must have been a shower, and froze on the spot, staring between Nighteye and the villain. “Ohh…heyyy Nighteye-

“Hello, Hawks,” he said calmly. “I’ve been meaning to speak with you.”

“…Ahh, cool…” the hero murmured, eyes flickering desperately between Nighteye and Dabi. “So, umm…”

Mirai sighed, looking back at Dabi. “Are you planning on killing me where I stand?”

Dabi rolled his shoulders back. “Not as of now, no.”

“Good. Well, do you have time to talk, Hawks?” the hero was staring at him, slightly slack-jawed, before he shook himself a little.

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure. I’ve been meaning to call you, anyway.” Hawks glanced at the villain stretched out on his couch. “Maybe, uh, come in here.” he ushered Mirai into a side room, closing the door almost the whole way over. Mirai glanced into the gap, content when he saw Dabi still reclining on the couch, flipping through apps on his phone with a decidedly bored air.

“Did you have something to bring up?” Hawks asked, voice a little terse. Mirai sighed.

“Yes, I’ve been meaning to talk to you. Are you alright?”

Once more, Hawks looked completely caught off guard by the question. “What?” the hero said, looking baffled. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“The information the media got ahold of. I can't imagine that was easy.” Mirai’s stunt with the papers had hit national headlines, and even though Mirai, Mirio and the others had yet to be connected to the event itself, the content of the papers had also been leaked somewhat. Including some of the news about the harsher training methods Hawks had been subjected to.

“Oh, that.” Hawks said dismissively. “It was a long time ago. It doesn’t bother me anymore.”

Mirai stared at him for a moment, and absently wished that Hawks didn’t still feel the need to lie to him so often.

“Even so,” he murmured, deciding to let the matter drop for now, “are you sure you’re alright?”

Hawks stared at him for a long moment. Mirai didn’t miss how, when he turned his head away and nodded jerkily, there was a light sheen to his eyes.

“That’s good to hear.” He murmured, tactfully avoiding any mention of the barely repressed tears. “I’ll admit that I was too fixated on having the Commission’s crimes exposed to acknowledge how my actions could have hurt you. I apologise.”

Hawks opened his mouth, perhaps to insist that an apology wasn’t necessary-

“So, you are the one who hacked into the Commission’s database,” a voice drawled behind him. Both Mirai and Hawks jumped slightly, turning to see Dabi leaning against the doorway, cold eyes boring into Mirai. “Impressive, I must say. Though, you could have gone further.”

“I am not a villain, nor do I have any intention to become one,” Mirai said stiffly. Dabi rolled his eyes.

“Not in that sense.” The villain leant closer, the smell of smoke wafting off him. “The Commission’s private files are a goldmine. The deeper you dig, the more treasure you come up with.” He straightened up, shooting a look at Hawks. “I’m going.”

“Oh, right.” Hawks said, wings drooping slightly at those words. “You’ll…call me?” he sounded so hopeful that Mirai had to avert his eyes awkwardly and occupy himself instead with the edge of his sleeve.

“Yeah, birdbrain. I’ll call you.” The statement sounded much softer than all of the scarred man’s previous remarks, and Mirai had to raise an eyebrow at that. He’d judged Hawks, before, for how emotionally involved he had gotten with the man, but he could see now that the fault lay with both of them.

He silently considered the villain’s words as said man turned on his heel and vanished. Dabi wasn’t wrong, and there was something about his eyes that bothered Nighteye deeply.

Perhaps it was worth a look after all.

 


 

Mirai stared at the screen. Bubble Girl and Centipeder, bracketing him on either side, seemed just as astonished as he was.

“Not a word about this, to anyone,” Mirai murmured. They both nodded silently. After another short word, he sent them home, hoping that they would all still be at top form when they returned to work tomorrow.

He stared at the screen, saved the video, and then closed his laptop on the footage of the Commission letting Touya Todoroki burn alive.

 


 

(The fact that the Commission got a series of abusive, handwritten letters over the course of the next few days, many of which had penmanship strikingly similar to that of Mirai, Bubble Girl and Centipeder, was a fascinating coincidence. And that was all. A coincidence.)

 


 

Mirai surveyed the training ground as Class 1-A trained away, under the careful eyes of both All Might and Aizawa. He offered a tight smile when the former greeted him. Their relationship had improved immensely since the raid, predominantly since they were actually on speaking terms once more, but there was still a small amount of tension there, the kind that could only be worked through with time.

“What exactly do you want to speak with Todoroki for?” Aizawa asked him suspiciously when he relayed his request. He was unsurprised at the reaction; Fuyumi and Natsuo Todoroki had been equally confused when he’d approached them at an elementary school and university campus, respectively. Even when he’d tried to not be as suspicious as he probably looked.

“The matter itself is confidential, but it concerns his family. I believe he has the right to be made aware of it.”

Aizawa narrowed his eyes – the man was nothing if not protective of his students – but seemed to consider it.

“Mi-kun!” a delighted voice rang out from behind him. Mirai turned, unable to prevent his smile when he saw Eri waving energetically at him from Mirio’s arms. His former intern grinned apologetically.

“Sorry, Sir. She heard you were here and demanded to see you.” Mirio explained as he set the girl down on the ground. Eri raced over to him, immediately hugging one of his legs tightly before once again grabbing ahold of the fingers of his prosthetic.

“It’s no problem, Mirio,” Mirai assured him, smiling down at the girl. “Hello, Eri. How have you been?”

That question immediately set her off onto an explanation of the new place she’d been living, with all her nice new carers and the games they played with her. He listened attentively, asking questions as she spoke and watching how her face lit up with every repeated indication of interest. He heard low footsteps after a few minutes, and glanced up, only to see a puzzled Todoroki Shouto standing not far behind a wary Aizawa.

“Ten minutes,” Aizawa said, blinking at Eri when the girl also greeted him happily and ran over to hug his legs as well. “Hey, kiddo.” Nighteye nodded to him and led Todoroki outside, taking a breath when he frowned in confusion upon spotting his two older siblings standing outside as well.

“Hey Shou!” Fuyumi greeted her younger brother happily, ignoring the cautious look on Natsuo’s face and Nighteye’s own grim look.

“Hey, nee-san,” Shouto said, raising an eyebrow before turning back to Nighteye. “What is this about?”

“It’s about your older brother.”

Natsuo raised an eyebrow. “The fuck did I do?”

“No, not you. Your brother Touya.”

They all went still, eyes widening. Fuyumi’s hands flew to her mouth, skin paling rapidly.

“…What?” Natsuo breathed. “What about Touya?”

Mirai sighed, bracing himself for the news he would have to deliver. “I am presuming that you were informed that Touya is dead, correct?”

“…Yes?” Fuyumi whispered, eyes so full of hope that Mirai almost winced.

“He isn’t dead, to put things simply.” He said, watching as the emotions on the three siblings’ faces ranged from shock to bewilderment, to soul-crushing relief. He sighed. “But sadly, I wouldn’t necessarily say that he’s a person that you’d want to be back in contact with.”

“What? Wait, why?” Natsuo asked, seemingly shaking himself free of his shocked state and gawking at Nighteye. “Why shouldn’t we contact him?”

Nighteye sighed, counted to ten in his head, and told them.

The silence that the information left in its wake was borderline devastating, the moment punctuated only by mouths dropping open and bodies going completely still.

“…Oh.” Shouto, gaze distant.

“I…” Fuyumi trailed off for a moment, before her expression, oddly, hardened. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”

 


 

“As heroes, I feel like you two should be against this!” Dabi shrieked as his sister skidded around the other side of the couch, plastic hairbrush held threateningly aloft. She’d already hurled a whole onion at his head, in addition to tossing several of the nice cushions that Hawks had lying around his apartment, but this weapon of hers was probably the most dangerous one.

Mirai was a little surprised to see how enraged Fuyumi Todoroki had become, upon discovering that her older brother was alive and rather more villainous than he’d been at last sighting. He’d expected tears, and maybe denial, but a set of tirades about how "that asshole couldn’t be bothered to call??" and "that motherfucker left me with laundry duty for eight years" had been more sibling-typical, in hindsight.

“Sorry, Touya,” Hawks drawled, biting into his apple again, “but this is retributive justice. You’d be better off just accepting your defeat at the hands of a 5’3’’ elementary school teacher.”

Dabi glared at his boyfriend and ducked another one of his sister’s strikes.

“So how long do you think she’ll keep this up?” Mirai asked curiously. Natsuo, who had been rifling through Hawks’ fridge with complete liberty, shrugged.

“I mean, it’s Fuyumi. She’ll either do it until she gets him, or she gets too emotional and starts crying. Whichever happens first.” Shouto, standing next to him, with an apple slice sticking halfway out of his mouth, nodded in agreement.

Across the room, Fuyumi pegged her hairbrush with pinpoint accuracy, the implement striking Dabi right in the middle of the face. The villain groaned, Fuyumi huffed in satisfaction, straightened up, and promptly burst into tears.

That seemed to scare Dabi more than her threats of physical violence had, and the villain waved his arms slightly, the very image of awkwardness. The scarred man was saved a moment later, though, as the woman ducked around the couch and practically threw herself at her brother, hugging him with unmatched ferocity.

“Huh, is it group hug time?” Natsuo said shutting the fridge and stretching. “Okay then.”

Mirai watched with no small amount of bewilderment as the two boys slipped across the room to their estranged brother, wiggling their way into the hug instigated by Fuyumi. Mirai caught a glimpse of the look on Dabi’s face and had to look away; it felt strange, to see the face of a villain be so open and emotional.

He glanced at Hawks, a little perplexed by the odd look on his face. He gently patted his shoulder, the hero jumping slightly at the touch.

“Did you want a hug too?” Mirai murmured. Hawks smiled, the expression a little strained.

“Course not!” he joked. Mirai raised an eyebrow. A lie. He shifted his arm so that it was around both of Hawks’ shoulders, tactfully ignoring how Hawks leaned into the contact like it was the last embrace he ever expected to get.

“When did things get this weird?” Mirai asked after a long moment, nodding at the four siblings across the room, who had progressed from group-hugs to murmuring quietly to each other. Hawks laughed softly.

“Probably around the time you thought talking to me was a good idea.”

“Duly noted.”

 


 

“Did you really think we wouldn’t find out that you were the one who spread those files around?” the Commissioner snapped, staring at Mirai with narrowed eyes. “We have surveillance cameras everywhere.”

“I’m aware,” Mirai said, calmly surveying the security guards that stood by the doorway, staring him down angrily. “I was expecting you to find out.”

“Did you think you would get away unscathed, even if we did find out?” The Commissioner asked. “Those were confidential files.”

“They were only confidential because you were committing human rights abuses,” Mirai said, squaring his shoulders in case he had to fight his way out of the building. He definitely didn’t think he’d be able to fight off the guards around him, but he would try anyway. He had the power of foresight and years of training on his side - he wasn't going down without a fight.

"Your legal powers were suspended this morning." Mirai calmly reminded her. "So you have absolutely no jurisdiction under which to arrest me."

"Believe me, Nighteye, we can have you charged."

"For what crime? Whistleblowers are protected under Japanese law, which you know as well as I do."

The Commissioner exhaled quietly through her nose, looking ready to throttle him. But Mirai knew that she knew they'd been beaten. He allowed himself a small smile.

"You can't even give me a hand in any measure? Hmm?" The Commissioner asked, the hatred in her eyes clear. Mirai tilted his chin upwards.

"Only in the one capacity."

Then, making eye contact with the incensed woman the entire time, Nighteye unhooked his prosthetic arm and tossed it at her. It hit her square in the chest as she gawked at him. Mirai just shrugged.

"Perish."

 


 

“So, all’s well with your agency, then?” Mirai asked as he and Hawks sat down to lunch again. It was the same place that their fateful first meeting had happened, with a few notable changes.

Firstly, Mirai was still missing his prosthetic – the sheer pettiness of his actions had well outweighed the financial burden of getting a new arm – and secondly, the air surrounding the two of them was much different.

Hawks looked relaxed and happy where before he’d painted a picture of professional ease over his face. Looking into his eyes, Nighteye could tell he was happier, and he was grateful for it. The meeting with Dabi and his siblings had gone better than expected. News about the scarred villain had mysteriously started to drop off – attributable to the man’s sudden exodus from the League of Villains, and the Todoroki siblings had also mysteriously started to hang out fairly frequently at Hawks’ apartment in Tokyo.

(And the two were, of course, completely unrelated. Of course.)

“I’m good!” Hawks said, looking like he meant the words. “Since the Commission lost all legal agency, their power to oversee my employees and missions is gone. So yeah, my mission to infiltrate the League is suspended for now. Probably permanently.” Hawks shot him a meaningful look. “Funnily enough, it wasn’t on any of their books. I’d say it’s because of how confidential it was, but…”

Mirai nodded, not needing the man to finish the thought. The Commission had always been callous; sacrificing good heroes wasn’t above them.

“And Touya?”

Hawks smiled. “Laying low. It’ll take a bit of convincing that he’s been turned off villainy, but Shouto-kun should be able to assuage fears at UA, anyway. That’ll be a whole process.”

“Some things take time.” Mirai nodded. “We should celebrate the victories we have had.”

Hawks nodded, grinning. “I honestly can’t even tell you how glad I am that you accidentally used your quirk on me. So, cheers to that.” he lifted his glass with a smile.

“Cheers indeed,” Mirai said, clinking their glasses together.

“And what about you? I heard the government’s dismissing those assault charges the Commission tried to bring against you.”

“Ahh, yes, the arm thing. They dismissed it on account of it being ‘humorously malicious compliance’, interestingly enough. I’ll need to get a new one soon. Preferably one that can hold decent amounts of weight.”

“Oh? Why?” Hawks asked curiously. Mirai allowed himself a small smile.

“The little girl we saved from Overhaul – Eri – has two days each week where her minders at UA are unavailable. I was cleared to contact her, so she’ll stay with me temporarily.”

“That’s great!” Hawks exclaimed, smiling. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as a kid person, but I can see it more now.”

“I just hope that Aizawa can bear to give her to me for those two days. He’d already very fond of her.”

“Aww, that’s sweet.” Hawks laughed. “You guys can co-parent like an awkwardly divorced couple.”

“Wonderful.” Mirai sighed.

“Also, speaking of semi-adoption, I’m 100% going to be calling you Dad from now on, so get used to that.”

“You shall not,” Mirai said, frowning.

“Alrighty then, what about Father? Pops? Sperm donor in all but sperm?”

Mirai knew his eyes were widening more and more in horror as Hawks continued, but that didn’t stop the man from pausing, grinning wickedly and offering his worst suggestion yet. “Ooh, I know. How about Daddy-”

“You know what, Dad is fine, actually,” Mirai said. “Or you could never contact me again and I can go lie in a bog until my body sinks into the mud.”

“Nope! You’re my parent now, congratulations.” Hawks said cheerfully.

“Well, I already regret this.”

Just according to keikaku,” Hawks said, grinning as Mirai once again regretted that Overhaul hadn’t been more efficient with that earth spike.

“Fine, I suppose I have two troublesome children to deal with, then?”

“Oh yeah, I’m completely insufferable, get ready for that.” Hawks chuckled. Mirai shook his head, smiling a little.

“Alright then, but I expect you to remain at least somewhat professional…son.”

The watery smile that Hawks sent Mirai almost sent him right out of his chair for a hug. “Got it.”

Mirai just smiled, leant back in his chair, and soaked up the relaxed air around him. A dangerous villain had neutralised themselves, a family had been reunited, and a corrupt agency had been exposed. Not a bad fortnight of work.

“Hey, does oyster sauce have actual oysters in it?”

For the most part.