Traitorous Love

Chapter 29- Loyalties

Changing the nickname to chickee because I can't think of anything else. ALSO WTF 5K READS THANK YOU!

Keigo's POV

Today's the day. I have to make my report to the commissions. I need to make my decision.

Where are my loyalties going to lie? Fuck, I don't know. This is so hard. I don't believe in the League and their mission to kill all heroes, because all heroes aren't bad. Only the shitty ones, but even they don't deserve to die.

Right?

I don't know what to believe anymore, all I know is I'm sick and tired of taking orders. I'm tired of being someone that I'm not. I'm tired of going around and saying that I'm Hawks, instead of saying that I'm Keigo Takami. I hate pretending to be a cocky, arrogant bastard. I might not know who I am, but that's definitely not me.

I won't let it be me.

"Hey, Keigo!" I hear (y/n) call out my name. She came over today, something about noticing how stressed I looked all the time. Personally, I thought I had covered my feelings, but for some reason she's just too good at figuring me out. It makes sense, (y/n) and I have become so much closer, and she's opening up to me more. She's trusting me and I'm loving it.

So would Dabi.

I smile from the couch. She walked through the door in a sweatshirt and leggings, her (h/c) hair in a messy bun. She had a huge smile on her face, that made the room so bright, almost as if her smile was a switch and it turned on the lights.

Cheesy I know, but it's kinda the truth.

"You okay?" she asked, her eyes crinkling in worry, "you look sick to you're stomach,"

You have no idea, "Eh, I just have to send a report to the commissions, today and I'm not looking forward to it," Guilt hits my stomach like a wrecking ball. I hate lying to her. Over the past couple of months I have grown to love our friendship, and now our relationship. She really gets me, how I work, what I like, and don't like. But the best part is that she doesn't treat me like some god. Sure, she's respectful but she doesn't think that I'm this great person. She treats me as if I'm another person. A person who's normal and not a rich bird who just happens to be the number 2 hero.

"Oh?" she walks over to the couch, and I move for her to sit, "what are you reporting on?" I wrap a wing around her as she puts her head in my chest.

"A recent mission," I say leaving it at that.

She tilts her head towards me, her (e/c) eyes meeting mine, "Continue,"

I chuckle, "it's classified, chickee"

She blushed at the nickname, "Aww c'mon," she pouted

I raise my eyebrow, and smirk at the beautiful girl next to me, "Fine, you tell me about the weird traitor thing and I'll tell you about the recent mission," I offer. It's been on my mind. It's just too coincidental that a very powerful girl, with an amazing quirk, and the perfect set of skills would just be interested in traitors aka, me.

Her eyes go wide for a second, it's so fast that I almost miss it, "Heh," she looks around nervously, "first of all it's not weird," she says regaining her composure, "and second of all, it's interesting. I wanted to know if there were any traitors, and if so who could possibly be it, and what their characteristics were," she shrugs and pecks my cheek, "think of it as a mini research project to impress the agencies when I have to start applying,"

"Why would you need to apply anywhere else when you got me?" I ask, and then immediately regret it.

She gives me a questioned look, "What do you mean?"

I smile, but I can feel it covered in guilt, "I mean, you would be my sidekick, right?"

Her eyes widen in shock, and then her lips turn up as she looks at me, "You really mean that?"

I nod, a second coat of guilt finding its way inside of my stomach. She smiles slyly and gets on my lap facing me, "That's so sweet of you," she whispers seductively. I can feel myself getting hard, as she starts to grind herself against me. She leans down and gently presses her sweet lips against mine. Her passion slowly starts to consume me and all I want is her. I want to feel her, to kiss every square inch of her, to be inside her.

This feels wrong, but so right at the same time.

She starts to mess with the buttons on my shirt, and I grab her hands, breaking the kiss. Her eyes stare deep into mine, and for a second I am sure she knows what I have to do in three months, "What is it?" she asks.

I take a deep breath and look away, "I," I clear my throat, "I think we should take things, slow,". No, no I don't. Not in the slightest

She looks a little disappointed, but then smiles, "Of course! Sorry, I should have asked first," she runs a hand through her hair, pushing the stray hairs out of her face, "we can take things as slow as you want," she gives my lips a quick peck, before she gets a call on her phone.

She checks the caller ID, and then answers, "Hey Miranda what's up?" Miranda? Oh, yea they're roommates now.

"Alright, I'll come home," she ends the call, and then looks toward me to explain, "Miranda told me to come home, something about how the apartments messy and it's my turn to clean," she shrugs, "I'll catch you later, and don't be nervous about the mission report, I'm sure it will go fine," and then she leaves.

If only things were that easy, chickee.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

For the next few hours I sat around, watched TV, went flying, and even ate chicken to calm my nerves.

Nothing. I'm still just as nervous with a pinch of guilt, hate, and anxiety all thrown into the mixing bowl. Why is this even a choice? Of course I side with the heroes. That should be a given. So why am I so drawn to the league? None of this makes any sense.

I check the time and I have to get to the commissions. Butterflies, no doves, fly around in my stomach. I landed in front of the building, anxiety growing even more as I walk in. The face of cocky bastard mixed with arrogance, is painted on my face, but I can tell it's not dry. It will smudge easily.

I knock on the door of the conference room and walk in when I hear a gruff voice saying to come in, "Hello everyone!" I sing out. It feels unnatural.

The boring faces of serious, old people look at me expectantly, "You're late, Hawks," Jennifer says. She's technically my boss. The person I'm supposed to report to.

"Well, you know, the traffic was terrible, the pigeons were on the wrong side the entire time," I joke. I wait for a chuckle, a smile, even a crinkle in the eye, but no one of the twenty people even makes a facial expression. Why do I try? "I apologize," I say, my voice hard and close the door.

"Well?!" Jennifer says impatiently, "what's the update Hawks, and it better be good," she threatens. Doves are replaced with annoyance and I resist the urge to roll my eyes at her rudeness.

I take a deep breath. It's time for me to make a decision. What do I choose? LOV or the heroes?

I open my mouth, and words start falling out. They're out of my control "Unfortunately, there hasn't been much progress," my own words shock me, "they still aren't fully trusting of me, but I will continue to do what I can to make them trust me," I say confidently.

I'm lying. Everything I'm spitting out is a lie. I'm lying, to (y/n) I'm lying to my boss, and I'm lying to the heroes.

Everyone grunts, their annoyances, "I expect more from you Hawks," Jennifer says with a sigh, "you need to do better. You must do better," I nod, tuning her out. I've heard her say that so many times since I was little, that it goes in one ear and out the other.

I thank everyone for their time and apologize one more time for my tardiness and walk out.

I made my decision. I chose the League.

Word Count: 1443