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xo-meow · 1 year ago

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👢 Showbird - Chapter 2

Summary ||

When Akira moved to Fukuoka to pursue her dancing career, life was easy. However, when her father has an unexpected health crisis, she needs consistent work in the worst way to help support her parents back in her hometown. A day job lined up at one of the Hero Agencies promises good pay for the time being, but she didn't expect not only to meet but get to know the Pro Hero the agency is named after.

Follow Akira's perspective with some of Keigo Takami's sprinkled in.

~~~

Complete Masterlist

Also on AO3 Pairing || Keigo Takami (age 22 at start)/Akira (Fem OC, age 23 at start)

Warning || brief depiction of hospital care

WC || 4037

~~~

The blaring of her alarm is cruel as it rips her from a deep sleep. Akira’s fumbling hand struggles to find the button to turn it off, and when she finally finds the right one, she is greeted with early morning silence. Before she gives her body the chance to slip back into sleep, she forces herself to sit up with a groan and rubs the back of her sore neck. No dreams interrupted her slumber for once, which she’s thankful for. If she didn’t know any better, she would describe herself as feeling like a husk of the person, her soul already stripped from her body as her shell marches forward with her still-new routine. Though now, she finally feels she’s starting to adjust to very little sleep. For the past week, all her waking hours have been claimed by commuting, working at the agency, riding the train back across the city during rush hour, dancing at the hall, and finally, the nights are capped with a brief moment when it’s just her in her quiet apartment taking care of her most basic needs, just to do it all over again the next day.

The sun isn’t even blessing the skyline yet, but she knows if she wants to make it to work on time, that’s the way it has to be. The night before had stretched well into this morning’s early hours, much to her dismay. Once arrived home, all she wanted to do was collapse into bed. But she needed to shower to wash away the sweat and makeup and to get a proper meal to sustain and restore her strength after a hard dancing night. She took the quickest shower of her life, heated one of her many containers of hot pot stews, and before she knew it, she had slipped into her dreams, unintentionally leaving her hair to air dry overnight and to handle in the morning.

She rubs her palms into her aching eyes before grabbing her glasses off the nightstand. Even with how tired she was last night, she had the wherewithal to set out another change of clothes, so she grabs them as she passes to the bathroom, setting about making herself presentable for her work day, including taming her beast called hair, which is cast in all directions. She’s gotten her morning routine fairly streamlined now, so it doesn’t take long before she’s back in her room looking much more presentable and packing her bag for dancing after work with a couple of new outfits and her charger for her phone, as well as her lunch she had prepared earlier in the week between her two livelihoods. As she passes the mirror on the wall by her front door to grab her shoes and coat, she catches a glimpse at herself. It’s almost comical to see her in such bland attire and tired, sunken eyes yet again. Akira doesn’t recognize herself in the mirror. This is the new normal now, though, so she kneels to put her flats on before pulling her coat over her frame and grabbing her bag. One last sweep for her keys, and she’s out the door.

She makes it to her train just in time, and when she gets to her station on time, she decides there is time for a quick stop at one of the little coffee shops by the agency. If it takes too long, she can just duck out and head to work; however, she knows she practically needs the caffeine in an IV drip, so a cup of coffee will have to do. She waits in line, already knowing her order, so she looks outside to watch people hurrying toward their work. Not nearly as many as there would be in about thirty minutes, but still, there are more people out than she expected to see. The sun has just barely started to come up over the horizon, casting long shadows on the sidewalk. After a few moments, she lingers on an oddly still crowd. Sure enough, it’s a group of paparazzi or the press, the flash of their cameras illuminating the wall of the building across the street. She squints into the still-dark morning light to try to see what’s so interesting, but they soon disappear to cross the road, out of sight from where she’s standing. What are they doing out so early? Can’t people catch a break?

Akira forgets about it in an instant when she hears the cashier call for who’s next and she places her order and pays before sliding down to the end of the counter to wait for her coffee. Not a breath later, she hears the door open and the sounds of camera shutters and jovial laughter bright as a bell before the door is shut quickly, keeping the press outside. She glances to see who it is, and her breath hitches when Hawks steps into view, waving to the cashier who happily squeals a greeting. He dazzles her with a smile before stepping up to the counter. She hasn’t seen him since meeting him on her first day, but she recognizes that smile as the one he used on her the first time he looked at her. Something about it this morning leaves a sour taste in her mouth, and she can’t contain her eye roll.

“Sorry about that. Don’t want them swarming your shop. A regular coffee is fine.” He doesn’t even register the price, just slides a few bills from his pocket across the counter and dismisses her with a soft, “keep the change,” before gliding in Akira’s direction. It’s only when his eyes slide from watching the workers behind the counter to her that he realizes she’s there, and his thick eyebrows shoot up with an eager grin. “Good morning, little bird! Just can’t stop running into you like this, huh?” He teases as he tucks his hands into his pockets, a go-to classic pose for him. Immediately her cheeks flush, coupled with the heat of wearing her winter coat inside. She had been expecting a quick stop and to go, so she didn’t think to peel off her coat while she waited. Now with the press lining the window outside and blocking the door, she lets a soft groan loose before turning her back to the window, thankful for her coat being plain, so she can attempt to fade into the background.

“Good morning, Hawks.” Her words are short, quiet but firm. Even though he is beaming this morning, it only makes her already not-so-great mood this morning plummet. By now, all guise of him being a Pro Hero has worn off on her, and he’s just another man.

“Ha, not a morning person, huh?” His grin is sickeningly sweet as he shifts his stance, his back angled toward the windows to block her from the view of the cameras, stretching his wings innocently enough to pass as a coincidence. He has done this song and dance countless times before, so it almost comes naturally. Hopefully, they don’t realize they know each other or at the least think he’s just making small talk with a stranger.

“No,” she states bluntly as she glances at him out of the corner of her eye. “This happens often?”

“Huh? Them? Oh yeah. Well, not all the time, but especially after a big win like yesterday, yeah.” He rubs the back of his neck as he meets her glance. “Don’t worry, they won’t follow you out of here as long as I leave before you.” That’s right, she had barely caught it yesterday, but one of their department leads had brought up that he had done well controlling a situation downtown while on a patrol.

“Hm, okay. As long as I’m not late,” she says under her breath as she nervously starts to rub her palms together. His eyes follow the slope of her arm to her hands, taking notice of her lack of gloves but his glance lingers on her reddened knuckles, from the cold or working with them, he’s unsure. Admittedly, Hawks hasn’t thought of Akira much since they met the first time. She was pretty in a unique way, but when you’re a Pro Hero, you meet a lot of people, so their meeting came and went without much thought. But now seeing her chapped hands drudges up the memory of her sore-looking knuckles on the rooftop a week prior.

“Ha, no worries. Actually,” he pauses and shoots a glance back toward the window and gives the gawking press a big grin, only to be met with lots of white flashes, making Akira close her eyes, even though she’s not the one facing the brunt of it. “We could slip out the back.”

“We?” She whispers harshly under her breath, worried the worker approaching with her cup will say something about them standing a little too close together for her liking as he sets it down on the counter for her to take. Hawks’ chuckle under his breath triggers the same fiery feeling in the cavity of her chest, but at least this time it stays contained below her neck. Her cup warms her hands and grounds her when she takes a short sip, almost burning her lip.

“Yeah, I’ve done it a couple of times. You won’t be late, and I’ll get to enjoy my coffee in peace. Win, win! What do ya say?” He gives her a quick nudge and before she gets the chance to decline, his bright eyes shift from her to the worker approaching with his cup before he gives another one of those dazzling smiles. Akira notices he flashes them like candy to get what he wants. “Would it be alright if I escort this poor young lady out the back? You know, they won’t leave her alone now that they’ve seen us together.” He gestures to the window with a slight head nod, and after a moment of brief confusion, the worker nods, gesturing toward the back door.

“Better hurry, though, they look like they really want more of you today,” the worker says under his breath before turning to get back to work, as if he didn’t just address a hero.

“Ha, see? No problem.” He grins at her, cup in hand, before once again ghosting his other hand back around her shoulder, eliciting that same shiver down her spine. With gentle precision, he draws her away from the counter, her quiet protest under her breath going ignored. He guides her in front of him toward the back door, still using himself as a shield from the cameras. Within seconds of realizing Hawks is getting away, the call of the press bleeds into the shop, spiking her adrenaline, her stomach tightening in fear, so she lets him spirit her right out the back door. The cold slaps stings her overheated cheeks, immediately fogging up her glasses, completely blocking her main field of view, but she can barely address it before he’s handing her his cup in her free hand.

“Hold on, little bird!” He laughs in her ear with absolute glee at winning the flight as he takes a firm hold of her around her waist, pulling her back flush to his chest, and pushing off the ground. Suddenly the ground is gone beneath her feet. If she weren’t so shocked, she would scream. Her stomach immediately turns over, more aggressively than before, and she’s thankful she didn’t eat yet this morning. The sound of his beating wings, the whooshing of the wind, and the thunderous heartbeats in her ears are all she can hear. The burning cold of the early morning air is painful against her sensitive skin, the speed of flight making the cold more intense. When she manages to glance down below her glasses’ frames, she can see they’re going up, and up, and up, the once-large dumpsters behind the shop shrinking. The towering sides of the buildings around them sweep up to meet them, giving her an intense case of vertigo, and what little vision she has begins to spin. She is just barely able to make out the back door of the coffee shop swinging open and a few of the press storm through, but almost instantly Hawks darts around the side of the building beside them, making her lose all sense of direction.

“H-Hawks, you bastard!” She rasps, clutching the cups like he commanded, hoping to the gods above that she hasn’t accidentally spilled them, and the pain of the heat hasn’t hit her yet due to her adrenaline coursing through her veins. Her voice comes in a meek little squeal against the wind, completely drowned out. However, his laugh carries right over the wind, his joy radiant as he gives her an affirming squeeze around her waist once more.

“Just a few more seconds, little chickadee,” he practically sings in her ear as a tease as he sweeps them right up to the roof of his agency. Careful upon landing, he lands first, making himself a grounding force as he sets her feet down in front of his. It takes a moment for the rush of flight to wear off, and Hawks pushes his blinders back like a headband, his free arm still holding her flush against him. Her balance hasn’t returned, and she is trembling like a leaf in the wind in his grasp. Instinctively he gives her upper arm an affirming rub with his free hand, as if to warm her through her thick coat.

“Easy there, little bird, take a second,” his tone is sweet as she manages to take a step away, nearly stumbling like a deer trying to walk for the first time. He keeps an arm around her as it dawns on him how unsteady she truly is. Was she about to faint?

Despite being on solid ground, Akira’s world continues to spin, her hands shaking. With barely any presence of mind, she tries to hand him the drinks before she accidentally dumps whatever is left of them. Suddenly uncertain, he lets her go completely to take them from her and quickly sets them on a nearby table before turning back to her, but already she’s sitting on the ground, looking absolutely disheveled and her skin comes off as a slight shade of green.

“Don’t. Ever. Do that again,” she barely rasps between gritted teeth. The sternness in her tone catches him off guard as he quickly kneels beside her.

“Sorry about that, I should have warned you first.” He immediately begins accessing her condition. With trembling hands, she takes off her fogged-up glasses, and for the first time, he can see how terrified she is, her deep brown eyes blown wide with fear.

“Oh, little bird, I didn’t mean-,” he comforts as his hand lightly caresses the back of her head.

“Shut it. Just-,” she bats his hand away and manages a slow, shaky inhale for breath as she finally meets his worried gaze. “Just give me a minute.” Dejected, his brows are bunched together and his permanent smile has crumbled to a frown for once. He nods before taking off his glove and pressing the back of his hand to her already clammy forehead. When she glances up at him from the corner of her eye, the slight light of the sun catches the scruff on his chin. She hadn’t noticed it before since the hair is blonde.

“Shit, I didn’t mean to scare you, Hatori, I really didn’t, I’m sorry,” he is practically stringing his sentences along as he watches to see if she has any change in her condition. To his surprise, however, she chuckles as she slowly leans to lay flat on your back, her breath visible as puffs of hot air in the cold.

“Funny you remember my name when you’re scared,” her words are weak, but the chuckle is still in her voice. Her words, again, surprise him. “And I said to shh. How were you supposed to know I am afraid of heights like that,” her poor, chapped hands rub her face, finally bringing some relief to her oncoming nausea. He observes suspiciously, continuing to access her, rolling her words over in his head.

“Still, I’m sorry. Do you need anything, any aid?” She shakes her head no, which he doesn’t believe, not when she still appears to be green. When he persists, she looks at him from between her fingers.

“If you want to feel useful, lay down and look.” He gives her a confused look before she points up to the sky. “Watch the stars go out. We still have time.” His gaze follows her finger up to the sky which is now easing into an early morning orange, but it’s still dark enough that some of the stars are visible.

“Promise that’ll help?” He gives her a side glance as he’s already shifting to lie down beside her, and she nods.

“Yeah, I promise,” her voice is still quiet and shaky, but she seems more grounded than before. He adjusts his wings before fully reclining, and he’s surprised at just how many stars he can see. Then he remembers her glasses.

“Can you even see them without your glasses?” He prods a tease and earns a light giggle.

“Barely, only a few of the brighter ones. I’m nearsighted, but the bright ones, they still shine for me.” She lets her hands fall to be crossed over her stomach, her breath far more steady now, and the two of them fall into a comfortable silence. Hawks is surprised at the ease of it. Now that he’s thinking about it, he hasn’t had a calm moment like this in a long time. Has he ever been this still before? They lay like that for a while, watching as the sky brightens, blinking out most of the stars. “You know,” she breaks the silence as she twiddles the zipper pull on her coat, “it always surprises me how many you can actually see in the city sometimes, during times like this. I mean, it’s not like living in the countryside, no light pollution out there. But right now? This is the most I’ve seen in years.” The nostalgia dripping off her words oddly brings him a sense of comfort, relief even.

“I wouldn’t know. I grew up here.” He gives her one more glance, and her normal coloring has returned, thank god. He didn’t want to have to take her to the hospital over something he did. She hums softly, considering.

“Sometimes I want to move back to the countryside, when I remember how quiet and calm it is,” she returns his glance, “at least, through rose-colored glasses, it was great. But, I…,” she chews on the inside of her cheek before continuing, “It’s better that I’m here.” And just like that, she’s looking back up at the sky as if there are no cares in the world. Hawks doesn’t know what to say to that, so he lets the silence stretch on for a few more minutes before her phone buzzes in her pocket. A quick glance and she is slowly sitting up to turn off the alarm.

“You okay now?” Hawks asks softly as he sits up next to her, taking note that her clamminess appears to have passed.

“Mhmm, I’m okay,” she glances at him from under her lashes. “Sorry I reacted like that. I appreciate what you did. Between unwanted crowds or heights, I guess you chose the lesser of the two evils.” He laughs at that, glad she seems to be more herself now.

“Nah, don’t be sorry,” His big grin is back, “I won’t do that again, not without your permission.” He sticks out his tongue as a tease before getting up and offering his hand to help her, which she takes without question. The sudden vertical motion nearly triggers vertigo again, but she catches her balance. Once he’s sure she’s not going to fall right back to the ground, he turns to grab their drinks.

“At least we still have coffee, yeah?” He chuckles as he hands her the cup with her name on it, and to her surprise, it’s still mostly full.

“Thanks,” she smiles and manages to take a proper drink this time, and it settles her upset stomach if only a little bit. Hawks watches her features as she takes another drink. Her soft content sigh melts away any more worry, which pulls a genuine smile across his face instead of his grins for show.

“Heh, we should do that again sometime, though! Running for the press is always fun,” he starts for the door, and she goes to follow.

“Yeah, right, like I’m letting you scoop me up like that again,” she returns his tease with her own, and his sharp, unexpectedly loud laugh makes her laugh, too.

“We’ll see about that,” he gives her a playful glance as they head down the stairs. It doesn’t appear so dark in the hall this time since it was still dark outside, so she’s able to meet his intrigued, honeyed gaze.

“Seriously, I would rather break my fingers than do that again,” earning his laugh once more while they wait for the elevator.

“Ah, but you didn’t even get to see the best part!” He nudges her arm playfully with his elbow, hand in his pocket, before taking a drink of his coffee, looking at her over the brim.

“Yeah, and what’s that? Your shit-eating grin while I’m screaming to be put down?” Her smugness again catches him off guard, like he’s talking to a completely different woman than the one we met a week ago. He nearly chokes on his coffee as another laugh bubbles up.

“Oh, a foul mouth now, are we?”

“Never said I wasn’t one. Besides,” she steps into the elevator once it opens and looks at him as he follows her in, “I didn’t have a reason to cuss you out before. You’re now on my shit list.” His clear, bright laugh bounces off the walls of the elevator and warms her to her core, a tingle racing from the back of her head down her spine.

“Damn, you’re brutal,” he chuckles as he presses their floors with his index finger, cup still in hand.

“Only when I need to be,” she smiles sweetly at him before taking a drink from her cup, and he nearly catches his breath. Who is she? Where’d she come from? Aside from other heroes, no one talks to him like that, and he’s not going to lie, he loves it. It’s not often he’s treated as normal.

“Well, Hatori of the reparations department, I’d love to stay and bitch about how awful flight and the press are, but I have to get to work, and so do you.” Before the doors slide open, he once again claps his free hand on her shoulder with a small squeeze before setting out and giving her a backward glance. “See ya around, little chickadee.” Without even thinking, she casually gives him a teasing wave, her cup still lingering at her lips. The next thing she knows, she’s alone in the elevator, absolutely dumbfounded at how her mood went from hating this morning to despising Hawks, from feeling utterly grateful that he stayed on the roof with her to cheekily teasing him in return. By the time she makes it to her cubicle, her coffee is drained, her mood is over the moon, and the queasiness in her stomach is gone, allowing her to settle into her seat and jump right into work, surprising Yuri who sits across from her.

“Hey, what happened to you? You’re never this happy in the morning,” he teases before lowering his voice and leaning into her cubicle. “You didn’t take someone home from work last night, did you?” That earns him a sharp laugh. She had told him of her dancing work, so he knows the nature of it, and she’s thankful he’s accepting and willing to tease about it.

“Not that that’s any of your business, but no. Can’t I have a good morning?”

~~~

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xo-meow · 1 year ago

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👢 Showbird - Chapter 1

Summary || When Akira moved to Fukuoka to pursue her dancing career, life was easy. However, when her father has an unexpected health crisis, she needs consistent work in the worst way to help support her parents back in her hometown. A day job lined up at one of the Hero Agencies promises good pay for the time being, but she didn't expect not only to meet but get to know the Pro Hero the agency is named after.

Follow Akira's perspective with some of Keigo Takami's sprinkled in.

~~~

Complete Masterlist

Also on AO3 Pairing || Keigo Takami (age 22 at start)/Akira (Fem OC, age 23 at start)

Warning || depiction of hospital stay; discussion of medical care; dancing for entertainment; brief depiction of sex work

WC || 5006

~~~

No one wants to find themselves sitting in a hero agency’s lobby. How many people have found themselves sitting in the very chair Akira finds herself seated in, their tears dripping off snot-covered noses and soaking into the upholstery? How many people angrily threw chairs when they received the worst news of their lives or collapsed on the tiles in insurmountable and inconsolable grief? Circumstances leading up to being in these seats awaiting representation from an agency are always painful, traumatizing, and devastating beyond belief. However, that’s not why she’s here. On the contrary, butterflies of anticipation have knocked loose the cobwebs in her chest as she waits for her HR rep to invite her back to get her badge on her first day.

Akira needs consistent, stable work in the worst way. Sure, she absolutely loves living in Fukuoka. Performing at the dance hall fuels her passion for movement, expression, and dance, to channel a deeper energy and commune with an audience, with her patrons. But even she understood that this time of year isn’t consistent, and life here is expensive, considering she used to live in a small town with her parents a couple hours’ train ride outside the city. Let alone, her parents don’t know the type of dancing she is doing, and she doesn’t want them to know. To them, she is a contemporary performing artist, but to the world? She lays herself bare, pulling on the strings of desire, feeding a deep hunger of needing to please while making her audience practically drool over her. Even then, she barely makes enough to get by on her own, which she is fine with, but circumstances have changed.

Needless to say, when her mother called a couple of weeks ago, it was a surprise. Akira was standing in the middle of the stuffy dressing room she called her second home surrounded by women in various stages of undress when the words she never thought she’d hear fell from her mother’s quivering lips - her father was in the hospital. Akira was stunned speechless, the feeling of static washed through her body in waves, disconnecting her from the reality of the chatty atmosphere in the changing room in the back of the dance hall. Her father has always been so healthy, strong, and capable, supporting her and her mother. How could the man she has seen as a pillar of strength be in the hospital? She didn’t give it a second thought before tugging her clothes back on, biting back the uncertain tears.

In a mad dash to catch the afternoon train, she skipped her impending performance. The ride was slow as the dread lingered thick in the air, as the train snaked out of the city into the countryside. By the time she arrived, her tearful mother was standing on the train platform, kneading her hands anxiously. It hadn’t been long since Akira had last visited, but already under the harsh lights on the train platform, she could make out a few new strands of gray shining bright against her mother’s otherwise dark hair. Together they went to the local hospital.

When her eyes fell on her father’s frame in the hospital bed, she couldn't quite place the feelings that stirred within her. He looked surreal, uncanny even. He looked healthy, but the tubes, wires, and tape keeping everything attached begged to differ. He was barely coherent, the left side of his face drooping slightly, as the doctors confessed they were still running tests to pinpoint the cause of his stroke. However, Akira could only focus on the sounds of his sterile hospital room. The whirring and beeping of the machines. Her mother’s soft whimpers and gentle affirmations as she leaned down to kiss the crown of his curly hair. Her mother’s light touch as she comforted her father with her delicate hands on his arms and face, her soft skin catching on the light stubble on his chin. The doctor finally pulled Akira into the hall to give her an idea of his long road to recovery, if he survived the initial aftermath. The doctor’s words were gentle yet firm, but as Akira stood in the doorway, her focus drifted back into the hospital room. The sight of her small-framed mother doting over her father pulled at her heart in the most painful way, and she couldn’t help but feel some sort of guilt for moving so far away, for not being here immediately when her mother needed her most. This blindsided everyone.

She ended up walking her mother home, offered to stay with her overnight even, but she dismissed her, sending Akira on her way. She needed time to herself to process, which is fair. The entire trip back to Fukuoka passed quickly as she was lost in the swirling hurricane in her head, but once Akira had stepped within the threshold of her own simply-furnished apartment, she needed relief. The sake bottle was to her lips, and she drank herself to the point of nearly blacking out on the living room floor.

When the morning light bled through the open blinds, her hangover panged behind her eyes, which slowly bled up across her temples. She didn’t let the pain stop her, though. As best she could, she sprang into action, sifting through job listings for anything she felt was worth the time and in her skill set. In the end, she sent off dozens of applications in hopes at least one would return with good news. Her mother hadn’t worked in years, and her father was still working, supporting them both. She needed to find a way, any way, to help her parents. And while she did dance, she couldn’t pull herself to consider anything seedier in nature. God, if her parents found out she would sell herself for them, their disappointment would kill her. No, she stayed stern and plugged away with the listings.

Little did she know, one of the dozens of listings was an undisclosed accounting position, which she later found out was for the reparations department at Hawks Hero Agency. Math wasn’t her strong suit, but upon interviewing, it was made clear that most of her work would involve on-the-job training, and with spring approaching, they needed all hands on deck as soon as possible. She would mostly be looking over insurance claims and assigning budgets for damage repairs caused during hero work. Of course, someone had to pay for all the damages caused by fighting to protect the public. With the help of funding from the agency’s backers, they can help rebuild and support the families of victims in their time of need. It just never dawned on her as a quirkless person that this was how these things were handled.

Waiting has never been her strong suit. It’s giving her time to second-guess herself and every decision she’s made that has led her to this point. She left earlier than necessary since she had to take the train across Fukuoka, which she normally didn’t need to do since the dance hall is only a few short city blocks away from her apartment building, making it easy for her to walk there every day. She didn’t want to risk being late on her first day at her first official office job. In hindsight, she hopes the clothes she picked out the night before are work-appropriate enough - business casual isn’t exactly easy to pull from her wardrobe. It’s a very different presentation than she would normally wear for dancing, when her legs, midsection, and arms are exposed more often than not. God, just the thought of the dance hall makes her heartache. Thankfully the lead at the hall was more than understanding when Akira called the following day after receiving the news, her hangover still weighing down her thoughts. Her lead has always been so patient with her dancers, especially with Akira - she even offered to cut back Akira’s performances to only be on the weekends, but Akira declined. She needs all the time she can get under her belt, no matter the cost. Time? Sleep? It didn’t matter. She would raise the money to support her parents. After pulling away these past few years, getting swept up in her life in the city, she refuses to let them down now.

“Are you Hatori Akira?” A meek voice cuts through her thoughts, and she's back in the lobby, a small blonde woman standing before her clutching a clipboard to her chest.

“Yes, that’s me,” she bows after standing tall as a greeting, holding her winter coat folded over her arm.

“Welcome to Hawks Hero Agency,” she greets her with a smile. “I hope your first commute wasn’t too much trouble.” She turns and leads Akira to a badge-protected door, scanning her own before leading her back.

“Thank you, I’m honored to be here. Thankfully it wasn’t too bad.” Akira’s eyes wander around the brightly-lit lounge area as they pass through - a few people are sitting around on their phones or laptops. The seating looks soft, casual, much more so than the more structured seating in the lobby. The woman introduces herself as Kio and compliments Akira’s outfit, giving her an immediate sense of relief. She almost laughs before telling her that she wasn’t sure what to expect for attire. Kio grins and explains the dress code, which thankfully is more relaxed than she expected, as she leads Akira into the HR department. She needs to fill out some final paperwork, get her badge, and process her computer information before Kio leads her to an elevator. Once the doors slide closed, Kio and Akira stand side by side, almost awkwardly so. Akira can’t help but wonder if she’s new, too. After what feels like an eternity of soft elevator music, the doors slide open to reveal a cubicle-divided open room with large floor-to-ceiling windows along the far wall, letting in the morning’s natural light. Again, she’s thankful - she’ll get to see the outside while she’s here. She wasn’t sure how she would handle a room with no windows all day. After dropping her things off at her cubicle, she’s tasked with training with another young, lanky man, Yuri, if she recalls correctly. Surprisingly, her tasks aren’t hard to grasp, but the computer system is completely different than she expected, so it’ll take some time to learn how to use it. After a few hours, it’s time for lunch already, and Yuri leads her back down to the seating area, but where it was once large and open, it’s now so packed that it’s hard to find a place to sit. Akira feels a tightness in her chest and throat. So many people, and so much talking make the once large space feel like a broom closet. She tries to recall the map of the building Kio had given her, but she left it upstairs on her desk. Besides, she doesn’t want to come off as rude, so she resigns herself to sit with Yuri in a couple of spare chairs.

“Don’t be nervous. You’re a natural,” he comments, seeing she’s nervous and trying to help, but the air feels as if it’s thickened with so many bodies crammed into every seat, so it doesn’t help much.

“I- Thank you. It’s a little overwhelming, but I’ll get it in no time,” she gives him a small smile before they eat in silence for a few moments. Yuri gives her hotpot stew a side glance as he scoops his noodles into his mouth. The only thing she really knew how to cook in bulk that would keep in the fridge or freezer for days was her mother’s hotpot recipe, so he’ll be seeing a lot of the same in the future.

“I’m sure, you’re capable,” he returns around his bite of food, hiding his mouth behind his hand. “You’re right on time, too. In about a month, it’ll be super crazy here.”

“Why’s that?” She mirrors his mannerisms automatically and asks around a bite of her food while covering her mouth with a napkin in her hand.

“With winter ending, spring always has an uptick of violent crime. Hawks is going to be gone a lot, our department will be running overtime, and who knows how many people will be coming through for representation.” He says it almost like it’s a fact, not a what-if.

“Huh, so Hawks is here often?” She had seen him on the news, heard of his wins, his victories, the work he’s done in an attempt to cut crime to the point that Pro Heroes aren’t so necessary, but it seems to be a losing battle. Now that she thinks about it, she didn’t assume he would actually work at the agency named after him.

“Oh yeah - well, I mean, as often as he can since he’s no. 2 Pro Hero status, but yeah. You’ll probably see him around now and then.” She nods, considering running into him in the halls.

Pro Heroes are celebrities in most people’s eyes, so she’s only seen a handful in passing in the past few years she’s been in the city, especially since she tends to keep to the outskirts. Hell, one of them showed up to watch one of her performances a couple of years ago, and she can still feel the heat that rose to her cheeks and ears when she made eye contact with him after the brighter lights shining on her stage were dimmed. He was large, fiery, imposing. Anyone could recognize the hulking form that was Endeavor as he sat back in her corner, his intense eyes trailing over her barely-covered body, but with the dance hall’s privacy policy, no one said a word, and he was able to sit back and enjoy her performance, like anyone else. To be honest, being scrutinized under his intense gaze made her feel both incredibly vulnerable but supremely invigorated, empowered. To be able to read his wants painted so clearly on his features, his desire as she moved on her platform gave her the biggest ego boost. Having someone as strong and powerful as a Pro Hero behave as any other of her patrons - breathing slightly labored, eyes darkened with approval and need - it reminded her that heroes are like anyone else in her parlor seats, just people wanting to enjoy the show. It’s too bad about the hall’s no-touch policy; otherwise, if she were to let anyone the pleasure to do so, it would have been him.

“You good?” Yuri’s softened voice pulls her back once more, and she realizes her cheeks must have naturally flushed from her thoughts.

“Y-Yes, I’m fine, sorry. I think I need some air,” she says as she stands with what’s left of her food. She doesn’t know where she’s going, but she has to get out of this room before her embarrassment mounts. Thankfully, he nods in understanding.

“Hey, there is a terrace on the roof. With it being cold, there probably isn’t anyone up there, if you need a moment to yourself. I know the first-day jitters are rough.” Akira grabs onto that like a lifeline, giving him a more genuine smile and nodding her head in a small bow of thanks before she heads for the elevator. She doesn’t even stop on her floor to grab her coat on the way up. When the elevator doors open, she’s met with a semi-darkened concrete hall, lit only with a lone light over the elevator. The hall leads to some stairs, and by the time she reaches the top and pushes the roof’s door open, she can already feel the frost-chill air doing its work on her tension. It sweeps into her lungs like she’s coming up for breath for the first time. For a moment, she just stands in the sun, face upturned to the sky, letting the air cleanse her mind, body, and soul. Her glasses have fogged up from the sudden change of temperature, but she barely acknowledges it as she tilts her head to glance over her frames. Yuri was right - no one is up on the terrace, the seating open in the center of the roof. With a sudden whip of the wind, it cuts through her dress shirt, cardigan, and slacks, but she doesn’t care. Even though the tops of her feet are exposed around the opening of her flats, she finds herself rooted where she stands. The cold grounds her and settles her whirling mind in an instant. After a few long moments, she finally moves to sink into one of the iron patio chairs and dives into the rest of her food, pulling her phone from her back pocket to mindlessly scroll and keep track of the time. As her lunch break winds down and the cold finally starts to sink into her bones, she gathers her now-empty food container back into her lunch bag and her phone into her back pocket. However, just as she’s about to get up and return to the beckoning warmth of the building, another gust of a sharp, cold wind embraces her and a soft thud draws her attention.

With a quick turn in her chair, she’s met with a blur of red feathers, tan buckskin, and gold locks before her eyes focus on Hawks standing just yards away. For a brief moment, his feathers are so close to her face, she can nearly feel them, or maybe it’s just how the wind moves around their tips. His wings are still extended from flight as he pushes his blinder back to hold his windswept hair out from his face and then combs the back down of his hair with his fingers as his crimson wings tuck against his back. He takes a couple of steps toward the door before he realizes she’s there, giving him pause as he shifts on his feet to look at her better over his jacket’s high collar that partially covers the lower half of his face, protecting his neck from the cold. He takes off his headphones, letting them settle around his neck. His golden brown eyes barely narrow on her sitting form for a moment before he dazzles her with a grin.

“Well, hi there. What are you doing up here? Aren’t you cold?” He chimes as he makes note of the lack of a coat despite the cold day. Her cheeks and ears are flushed from exposure, and even her knuckles appear reddened and sore as they hold the strap of her bag. Her dark, curly hair is windswept making it wild and untamed.

When she stands and tries to speak, she finds her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. She reminds herself he is just a man, right? She can’t lie that his sudden appearance caught her off guard and blew her completely out of her element. It’s one thing to be dancing several yards away from a hero with his undivided attention and another completely to be standing before one who’s speaking directly to her.

His grin settles into a small smirk at her obvious nervousness, but he waits for her response, giving her a considerate head tilt, much like a bird. Obviously, based on the like-new badge hanging on her hip, she works in his building but hasn’t been there long, so he doesn’t intend to make her nervous. She tried to ignore how being stuck under his prying eyes makes her belly do flips. When she finally takes a deep breath, she shivers as another gust of wind pushes at her back and cuts through the thin fabric of her slacks.

“I- Um, sorry, I was just on my lunch break. The main area was so packed, I just needed a moment alone. Am… Am I not supposed to be up here?” she barely finds her voice and hopes the wind carries it. Thankfully, his smirk slides back into a smile and his piercing gaze softens, confirming he heard her, and he gestures for her to follow as he continues to step backward toward the door.

“Of course, you can! I just wasn’t expecting anyone up here since, well, it’s freezing,” he laughs lightly as she quickens her pace to catch up to him, and he opens the door wider for her to enter first, earning a quick, shy nod of thanks, before he steps in after her. “This is just the quickest way for me, ya know? Less likely to run into people needing things.” She bobs her head once in a nod as she takes the first few steps down into the darkened hall, but stops once her glasses fog up again when the warmth of the hallway greets her. However, it’s not like that matters much. Her eyes aren’t used to the dark now that she’s been in the light of the sun for a while, so the once dimly-lit hall appears completely dark to her, but Hawks appears completely unphased. Once he gets the door to latch behind them and they are cast into darkness, it only takes a moment for his hand to ever so gently ghost over her shoulder to guide her down the rest of the steps. She can’t help but flinch under his touch, even if it’s barely there, but she is keenly aware of how he makes sure to follow a step or two behind her to give her space.

Akira hasn’t been touched outside of the context of work or family in literal years. Sure, when she first started at the dance hall, it wasn’t uncommon for her to take the chance of bringing one of her partners home now and then, but she quickly learned that work and private relationships needed to stay separate to keep her sanity. With most of her evenings gone, she didn’t feel the pull to try to connect with others outside of her already small circle. She didn’t realize just how touch-starved she was until this gentle touch elicited such a primal fire within her chest, making her heart race. It’s a completely unexpected feeling - the space within her chest heats as if a fire has just been stoked with kindling, slowly spreading up her neck like a chimney, almost as if her chest is too small to contain it. What’s this feeling, she isn’t sure, but she hopes her companion can’t tell how a simple graze of his fingers over the knit of her cardigan has triggered such an unfamiliar response within her.

Little does she know, his quick eyes see everything - the way her neck and ears have turned a richer red than when they were outside, her shoulder tensing under his fingertips, even the slightest shiver that races down her back. At first, he dismisses it as a natural reaction to being so close to a hero or maybe she is just shy, but upon being confined in the small hallway, he catches the most subtle shift in her scent. No one else would notice unless they had a quirk. He can’t place it exactly, but any shift in things like that usually points to a need. Even though they just met, she’s already a little bird under his fingers, and he can’t resist the slight coy smirk that pulls the corner of his lip up.

She lets him guide her down the rest of the stairs until they’re standing under the soft glow of the light above the elevator, and he finally lets his fingers drift off her shoulder as she goes to push the down button for them. He doesn’t miss how she shuffles to put some distance between them, so he idles, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets as they wait. His gaze falls on her face once more when she finally gives him a sideways glance. Even in the dim light, the flush of her skin is prominent. It doesn’t take his heightened senses to see it. Now on even footing and not so caught off guard, Akira takes him in properly and notices they are about the same height, so he doesn’t come off as intimidating as before, but he makes up for it with how his honeyed eyes bore holes into her face.

“What’s your name, little bird?” He asks as he tucks his chin under the collar of his jacket once more. She recognizes the nickname as a variant of what he calls his fans. She has trouble maintaining eye contact but does her best to not falter.

“Hatori Akira, sir,” she gives a respectful bow to make up for their informal rooftop meeting. “Today is my first day in the reparations department.”

“Ah, I see.” As if a switch flips, his demeanor relaxes and his gaze softens when she returns his gaze, an apology written in the fine line that has appeared on his forehead, only visible because of the poor lighting. “Yeah, I know they wanted to be better prepared this year after last year’s nightmare of a season. Hopefully, it won’t be nearly as rough this year, though. Kind of the point of heroes, ya know?” His subdued voice surprises her. The Hawks on TV is boisterous, fun, confident even. Seeing him so much more down to earth affirms he’s just like any other man, so she takes a deep breath and nods, letting some of her nerves go on her exhale.

“Right, I had heard last year wasn’t a good year. I hope I can be of some help. To be honest, I’ve… I’ve never done this work before, but I need this job. More than I’d like to admit.” She pauses, twiddling with the strap of her bag, listening to the elevator’s whirring as it approaches. She can feel his eyes still on her when she realizes she is rambling, so she casts him a meek smile. “I’m glad to have the opportunity.” He smiles in return, and in the dim light, she’s unsure if she imagines his eyes sliding from her eyes to her smile and back up to her eyes without pause before the doors open.

“Of course,” he says passively as he grins and steps into the elevator with her, pressing one of the upper-level numbers and then the reparation department’s number. “You’ll do just fine, kid. Just don’t think about it too much. Sometimes that work is really hard on ya.” He casts her a side-eye. “If you haven’t seen that already, I know it’s your first day.” Akira gives an automatic nod.

“I understand. It’s… a lot to process so quickly. But I’ll be okay, I’ve always been a fast learner,” she returns his grin with a smile. “Best of luck with your work. Stay safe out there.” Hawks raises a brow in surprise, his grin sliding into a smirk again before the elevator doors open to his floor.

“Ha, no need to worry about me, little bird. Just keep your head down, and you’ll be just fine. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” He claps his hand on her shoulder lightly with a small squeeze before stepping out and turning back to her. She can’t help but hold his gaze as he smirks and waves until the doors glide close. Once in the privacy of the elevator alone, she nearly falls back against the back wall.

What was that?! Who am I, a teenager swooning for a superhero? She rubs the palm of her hands into her eye sockets before holding her face as if to wipe away the blush from her features. She never imagined she would run into Hawks like that, let alone on her first day when she was alone. Maybe they would meet in passing during a conference or she would catch a glance of him across the office. Her heart is pounding hard against her ribs as she approaches her floor. In an almost panic, she takes a deep breath to steady herself and schools expression into composure as best she can before the doors open. There is no time to linger on thoughts of what just happened as she steps from the elevator, leaving her bag in her cubicle and taking a moment to tame her windswept hair before going to train with Yuri. However, she guesses the deep flush of her skin isn’t under control when his eyebrows shoot up as she takes a seat.

“Wow, you okay? It’s cold up there, right?”

“Huh? Oh, right,” she bites her lip for a moment, wondering if she should tell him what happened. “Hawks arrived while I was on the roof.”

“What?!” He gasps a little too loud for her liking, earning a shoosh from her. “Are you serious? Huh, lucky, he’s always so busy.” He scoffs under his breath, and for a moment she wonders if he’s jealous, but it’s quickly pushed aside to continue her training for the day. Throughout the rest of the afternoon, he randomly pauses and asks her about what he said, what he did, what they talked about. She obliges, but by the end of the shift, she has forgotten about their meeting in favor of planning out her evening. While she is beyond ready to go home, she knows that’s not an option. No one is going to make her problems disappear.

After clocking out for the first time, she steps out onto the street in the chilly late afternoon air. The wind is still whistling between the buildings, so she pulls the collar of her coat higher around her neck. She’s not sure how she’s going to manage the coming weeks of a day job and performing at night, but she will figure it out like she always did. But first, all she can think about is filling up on a warm meal to chase away the chill that’s already begun settling into her bones as she walks to the train station on her way to the dance hall.

~~~ Next Chapter

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