phoenix ✦ k.takami (hawks)

Two

And just as the phoenix rose from the ashes, she too will rise. Returning from the flames, clothed in nothing but her strength, more beautiful than before.
~ShannonHeartzs

Track 3; Options by again&again

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When you woke up the next morning thanks to your cat demanding breakfast, you checked on the pro-hero after you did your morning routine. He was still asleep but he had rolled over onto his stomach, his large vermillion wings stretched across the bed and falling off both sides. You quietly closed the door before Yoshio had a chance to dart in and bat at Hawks' feathers.

After feeding the grey cat you perched yourself on a stool in front of your kitchen island, nursing a cup of fresh coffee. You were still in your pajamas though you'd had the decency to throw on a bra under your oversized t-shirt and fuzzy pajama pants. Your slippers kept your feet warm as you waited for the small furnace in your living room to heat up your tiny apartment. A glance out the sliding glass door that led to your balcony informed you that it was still raining.

Shortly after you'd closed the bedroom door, the sudden noise caused Hawks' eyes to fly open and scan the room around him. Immediately he was on guard since he didn't recognize his surroundings. He sat up quickly, wincing as his body protested the sudden movement. His freedom of movement let him know that he wasn't imprisoned so he calmed down a little bit. Still unsure of where he was, he scanned the room to see a few paintings on the wall, a mirror above a bamboo dresser where he met his own reflection and a small nightstand separating the bed he was on from the closet. 

On the nightstand was a glass of water, a t-shirt and a pair of sweats. The sight clued in that he was probably found after his scuffle with the Yakuza by a citizen but that still didn't settle his racing thoughts. He hadn't noticed how parched he was until he saw the cup, so he picked it up and sniffed it like that would reveal if it was poisoned or not. When he didn't smell anything out of the ordinary he emptied it before anybody could say "chicken nuggets".

After he set the empty cup back where he found it he looked down to see his hero outfit all torn up. He clicked his tongue, knowing that Best Jeanist was going to give him an earful for having to patch it up again but he didn't think twice about it. Carefully he stood up and stripped out of his clothes until he was only in his boxers, raising his arms to see bandages wrapped around his right wrist and band-aids across his knuckles. His stomach was also bandaged as well as one of his legs seeing that he looked partially mummified. Whoever patched him up did a good job though—maybe picking up strangers that had passed out on the street was a hobby of theirs.

He didn't question it when he changed into the outfit provided for him, guessing that whoever helped him was somebody with a kind heart. He appreciated the assistance, unsure of what could've happened to him if he had been left outside all night. He could barely recall what happened to get him in that situation besides the fact that he was jumped by a group of Yakuza thugs that outmatched him when it came to power. What an unlucky occurrence, he thought to himself.

You had turned on the television in your living room and switched it to the channel that was showcasing the U.A. Sports Festival when you heard the guest bedroom door open. You shifted slightly on the stool to be able to see Hawks come limping down the hallway, casting a glance to the clock above your pantry; 9:54 AM. Yoshio was sprawled on the counter behind you, his fuzzy head bonking into the back of your bicep, demanding attention. You reached back with said arm to scratch him behind the ears when you greeted the pro-hero who was looking around your cozy home, the glass of water you'd given him the night before now empty and in his hand.