I am not responsible for any emotional damage this may cause.
TW: torture, gore
Hawks isn't quite sure about a lot of things. The who's, what's, when's, where's and whys. Okay, maybe he doesn't know anything.
It's not his fault though, the last few months have been a whirlwind. It's hard to go from being a pawn to being a rook.
Is that even the right analogy?
All he knows—and at this point this is all he knows—is that he's not the Hero Commission's pawn anymore. Is it possible he's now the pawn of a homicidal stoat with the codes to nuclear weapons and more...quite possibly. Is that his problem right now? Nope.
His problem is the fact that he has no idea what to wear these days. He's still Hawks whether he's a Commission lackey or not. It's kind of odd to wear his signature suit in light of recent events.
Hawks won't say Nedzu saved him, because he did not, but he did something very similar. He gave him a life outside of his job. His life used to be his job.
He was only living in order to carry out the parameters of his job. Now he's allowed to do whatever he wants. Well not quite whatever, there were conditions to the deal with Nedzu.
The conditions were somewhere along the lines of I'll get you out from under the Commission's thumb and you will in turn be a heroics teacher at UA. It was a bit of a no brainer.
However, now Hawks is standing at the entrance of UA directing students to their designated testing rooms with the stoat on his shoulder. He found it better not to ask why the principal wanted to stay there lest he wanted a few feathers plucked out.
Student's awe filled gazes toward the number three hero were obvious, and Hawks gives a lazy grin in response. Nedzu had warned him there would no doubt be attention around the hero, but Hawks already knew.
A few students drag their feet as if that'll hold the exam at bay, some speed by hoping to speed it up and get it over with, while others relish in the here and now.
Some do none of the sort and just walk by with their back ramrod straight, and complete blankness sprawled across their face like they couldn't give a rat's ass.
"Hey, do you need any help on directions towards your testing room, chicklet?" Hawks aims the question at the odd teen. A feather or two twitch minutely at the interaction. The boy seems shorter than his build would suggest.
His outfit is rather plain with a blue gray long sleeve shirt, and black sweatpants. Hawks is sweating bullets due to the afternoon heat, but the teen looks like he couldn't care less.
The raven haired boy peers at the number three with tired blue eyes. His wavy hair reaches just above his eyebrows. He seems utterly unimpressed, and the eye bags only reinforce the notion. "No thank you."
Hawks nods at the boy, but watches him go through the doors nonetheless. His feathers are never wrong, so why are they detecting a sort of aura around the boy? It's more of a feeling that something should be there, but isn't. Like looking at a painting for so long after drawing it, and then realizing you forgot the portrait's eyelashes.
Nedzu's voice snaps him out of his senses and back towards the students filtering in in droves.
The students are all inside, and Nedzu went to wherever Nedzu goes. Hawks wouldn't put it past the rodent to be roaming the vents. There's no other way he'd know everything.
One day he brought Hawks to an esteemed restaurant known for their fried chicken. Okay maybe that's common knowledge, Hawks does talk about things like that in interviews, but still. Hawks wants to buy one of those anti-spy screen protectors where the device is only viewable from a certain angle.
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A Honed Edge (Izuku Midorya)
Fanfiction...In loving memory of Izuku Midorya... Raiden Azuma is a weapon, and weapons are meant to be wielded by whoever is capable. ...him and his mother were taken from us when they were far too young... The Hero Commission took the boy in, and molded him...
