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A Suffocating Grip
“What in the hell are you on about?” Hawks bites back, and fights down the growing panic in his lungs. He hasn’t been scolded like this since he was a kid, what could he have possibly done to make Tanaka-san so angry? Hawks does everything they say, he’s careful. “I’m busy working my ass off making it into the top ten! What could I have possibly done?” Tanaka-san sighs, still agitated, but disappointed in a way that makes Hawks’ stomach churn. “Look your name up on your phone.” Hawks numbly pulls up the search bar on his phone and searches ‘pro hero hawks.’ And, there it is, the first bold headline on the page. Star-Crossed Hero Love Affair? Underneath the article is a picture of Hawks and Todoroki Natsuo at the cafe they’d visited this past weekend. Picture Hawks has his head thrown back, cackling, and Natsuo is leaning forward, drinking in his laughter with a pleased smile on his face. His arms are extended across the table, as though waiting to hold Hawks’ hand. Shit.
never knew daylight could be so violent
Tsunagu is just about to ask what she’s talking about, exactly, when the feathers strewn around them suddenly take flight again, rushing towards the jacket on the ground in front of them. When Tsunagu looks down to watch them convene on the crumpled garment, he is shocked to find a small child sticking his head out from underneath the collar. The boy looks as confused as Tsunagu feels. Or the one where Hawks is de-aged, secrets come to light, and Best Jeanist may or may not be planning the downfall of the Hero Commission.
