Fifty Five

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"Please understand that I was in pain. I never meant to ruin things.
I never meant to ruin us."
~ Unknown

Track 56; Let Me Down by Oliver Tree

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Amber eyes dilated and flitted across empty hallways, unable to focus on much beyond the bright, artificial lights bearing down on him from the ceiling. His mind was on overdrive, every sense in his body on alert. His mouth was dry, and he felt like he could've drank an entire lake and it wouldn't have satisfied him. His feathers were twitching with each step, a foreign buzz ringing in his ears that had him in a fragmented state of mind. He wasn't able to get control over his thoughts.

The faint sound of frantic sobbing pierced through the hum. He stopped, boots squeaking on the linoleum. His body felt unbearably heavy. What was this feeling? Dread? He tilted his head towards the sound, attempting to locate the source. It wasn't a woman crying. He didn't care. He forced himself to take a breath, reminding himself that he was still human. It didn't drown out the sound of whoever was crying. He attempted to tune it out.

His mind did exactly as he wanted when one thing shoved itself into the forefront of his mind: you. Your eyes, and the way you would look at him. How the tone of your voice would change depending on who you were talking to—your laugh. The glitter in your wings, the constellations lining the ombré feathers. How you walked, breathed, blinked, existed. His saliva caught in his throat.

He hadn't heard from you in two days.

He called until your voicemail box was full, and then until you wouldn't take his calls anymore. Even when it sent him straight to that prerecorded message each and every time, he still tried. The further he walked, the louder the sobbing got. He still didn't pay any mind to it—even when he walked right past the door. He didn't check again when he caught a glimpse of blue and violet ombré wings in the far corner of the room, tending to a man on his hands and knees clutching at his head. The picture didn't fit the profile, so he moved on.

He was too far into 'autopilot' to really recognize the difference between the 'true you' and the copy in the room he had just passed. If anything, his brain told him he hadn't seen what he had in order to maintain the dwindling energy he carried. His hands were tied as well as his tongue when it came to fixing the situation he had found himself in—somewhere he had seen himself headed, but tried his best to avoid. Unfortunately, his attempts at protecting the relationship he had built with you were inept. Now that he thought about it, the amount of time he had spent with you had been an act of balancing on a wire. If he stepped too far forward, you'd fall. If he stepped back, he would fall.

Somehow, you had seen something like this coming. Your life had been too full of hardship and heartache for you to adjust so casually to being thrown into a world you hadn't been a part of in years. You knew from the beginning that something as easy as your life with Hawks was too good to be true. After Dabi's break-in, things had been sailing on relatively smooth waters. Sure it was choppy here and there, but it wasn't as bad as it could have—should have—been. Eventually, after more time passed with lesser chances of things happening, you'd grown to accept your new life; a hero, a wife, a woman who started at the bottom and clawed her way to the top.

Keigo felt hatred stir inside of him. He wasn't sure where it came from, or who it was directed at but it filled every inch of his being. Whom was it aimed at? Himself? Dabi? The Hero Association? You? No, definitely not you. He had to find you, to tell you how he really felt. That yes, it was an assignment. One he had only put half of his heart into after he finally met you.

You had been described as a dangerous person, primarily for the fact that your quirk wasn't something that the Hero Association had seen before. It wasn't anything like your fathers except for the telekinesis and wings—the glyphs had come from a mutation, a scientific detail the world had yet to truly understand. The company did know that you had some sort of relationship with Dabi, even if it was unknown to you. The Hero Association had only been working off of a fluke of info, a possible dead-end that they launched Hawks into without a second thought. They hadn't realized how on-track they were with their hypothesis until the original Treasure Wing was destroyed.

From there it had been cemented—figure out who you were exactly and what sort of relationship you had with Dabi.

He hadn't wanted anything to do with the mission at that point. Keigo had fallen in love with you so hard and fast that he tried to back out of his responsibilities as soon as he could. He hadn't met anybody like you before, someone who took the punches and just kept rolling forward. Someone who could snap back into the person she always had been from the beginning. He admired you for that, and wanted to have that ability.

Keigo loved you so much that it hurt. He found it difficult to breathe when he thought of a life without you, his life before you: lonely, just working, eating, and sleeping. Then he would wake up and do it all over again. You brought light into his life, a splash of color—blue and violet alongside the large grey cat you could deadlift from the ground like it was nothing. He wanted to protect your soft, kindred soul: saving Momo on your first date with him, and making sure she had a home. You cared for the cats and him like it was nothing, you did so much for him by just being in his life.

He had fallen so hard for you that he had forgotten the original focus: his mission. All of it had gone as the Hero Association had wanted, anyways. Of course, they had hoped for a surprise visitor at the wedding—but thankfully it had gone smoothly. He hated the fact that he had to ask them for permission to marry you.

"Are you asking us if you can marry her for the mission or another reason?"

He knew that if he hadn't answered that question correctly, they wouldn't have allowed it.

"For the mission."

His mouth was bitter when he said it, the worst lie he ever thought he'd spoken in his years alive. He regretted it the instant he said it. He should've kept his impulses under control, and maybe your chance of being in this situation would've at least been shaved in half. He knew from the moment it began that it was destined to possibly die. Possibly the only cause was his own decisions, though a majority of the blame lies with the Hero Association as a whole. He couldn't help but wonder; would you and him have even crossed paths if it wasn't for him being set out on this mission?

He passed by a random person, somebody he didn't know the name of but had interacted with a few times before.

"Have you seen a woman with wings around here at all? They're blue and purple."

"No, sorry." She shook her head and wandered away.

He worked his lips between his teeth and looked down at the toe of his boots, wondering where you had gone. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed your number for the umpteenth time.

Hopefully, you have gone home and were just ignoring his calls.

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