Blue | Hawks x Dabi

1

Hawks was back in the room, the white room, and he wished it would be his last.

He couldn't be back, he was good. He played his part in the paranormal liberation war. He killed Twice. He did what he was supposed to do.

So why was he back?

Each shrill soundwave reverberated off the padded walls, and Hawks swore he could feel the sensation travel through his feathers, one by one, taking him apart, piece by piece. He tried to smile, to grin, but the smile, it wouldn't hold, his feathers couldn't get off the ground no matter how much he willed them to-

This was for his own good.

Hawks could easily see through a lie when he hears one, but this was different. The message had been drilled into him, seed planted into his mind at the young age of six.

They were training him to be the best, to save people. To be a hero. Because that's what he was, right? His childhood dream, the one that kept him going when be shattered. That was the lie Hawks had been feeding himself, because if he didn't, he wouldn't have the willpower to put himself together again. Not after dying his hands with the blood of whoever was unlucky enough to appear on Hawks's hit-list.

Nagant was wrong. It was almost comedical, because Hawks would never break, his facade could never come off. He had to keep going, for his dreams, for the innocent civilians, because HPSC willed him to. Enduring training was nothing. This was nothing.

Hawks's mouth opened as another soundwave radiated through the speakers, but the sound, the scream, it was stuck. Lodged, in his throat, because he wasn't supposed to react to anything. More feathers cascaded down his back. Blood trickled down his nose, from his ears, but the sound, it kept coming.

How long had he been enduring this for?

He tried to whisper sweet, empty promises to himself, that it's for the greater good, that he's not actually a cold-blooded killer, that he's just following orders, and it would all be worth it when he could have all the free time in the world-

Deep down, he knew he wouldn't live to see the day. But maybe, just maybe, the next generation could. He hoped Tsukuyomi could.

Hawks's fingers curled into his palms as his talons dug into the soft vulnerable flesh. They carved out bleeding crescents all over his hands, but at least his mind could pinpoint the pain somewhere else other than his feathers.

The speakers started to count down as the last wave of noise was sent out. Only ten more seconds. Hawks could do it.

He gathered the last of his strength and tried to call for his feathers again, but it's too much. Each vibration is enough to send his mind over the edge, overloading all five senses in ways even he thought was impossible.

Hawks gritted his teeth as every muscle in his body screamed in agony, but he couldn't afford to worry about that. He had to endure it until it broke him, even if it killed him. Did he want this? To be subjected to an endless sea of pain until he died on the battlefield?

A frustrated cry escaped his lips, and Hawks doesn't know how much longer he could-

The noise stopped.

Without blinking, Hawks wiped his nose with his sleeves and ripped the blindfold off. He glanced up at the security camera feeling drained, sleeves damp with blood.

His mind recalibrated in seconds as his vision focused again, the blurriness leaving just as quickly as it came. Hawks was used to this, he could take it.