Boku No Hero Academia One Shots [Book 2]

Keigo Takami ღ Hawks

Hawks is 14, Reader is 18!

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Today was the day to finally validate or dispel all those fluffy fantasies. The guilt coiling around his heart as he remembered the mornings when he would awaken, surrounded by a glistening pool of white...it expanded to the point of sheer agony. This might have seemed a healthy, albeit lewd, reaction towards his long-time love interest, but it was becoming quite a problem. Loss of balance and concentration, slowed speed...all because he was trapped, ensnared within a daydream.

It wasn't necessarily bad, at least not to him. Minor injuries were commonplace, and luckily for his thundering heart (or unluckily, as he might soon suffer a stroke), you were always on-hand to administer basic first-aid. Your quirkless nature neither capped your usefulness, nor stopped you wanting to make a difference. You had once mentioned how heroism never truly appealed to you, and although this was merely a fleeting comment, he stored it in his mind. He savoured ever word, dripping in honey, so saccharine it was almost overwhelming. He memorised the movements of your luscious-looking lips, hopeful that one day - one day soon - they would meet his own. When you spoke, not a single word escaped him - his eyes and ears were permanently fixed on to you.

There were a million reasons for such a powerful adoration, that if questioned, he could chirp away for hour upon hour. The most dramatic recreations of movie confession scenes spiralled through his head, at the mere mention of your name. Could he ever hope to be so upfront?

But that was yesterday's musing.

Today was different.

He offered another slightly-worried glance at the letter, lying in his palm. A tiny voice gave him pause. Did he really want to do this? To risk losing a wonderful friend, all in pursuit of his own, selfish desires? You were an incredibly friendly soul, never having expressed any semblance of romance. He failed to even recall a single flirtatious comment or lustful twinkle in your eyes. But...maybe there was a simple, yet lamentable explanation. Had your heart already been stolen, by someone else? Someone stronger, more dependable, someone...your age? He now wished to slap himself. Why was he making this harder? Surely, you would have paraded that information? Partners were supposed to be enamoured with each other...right?

Please, merciful gods, let that be a sign of your availability! There were only four years separating you (Hawks being fourteen), but you were fresh to your mantle in the Commission, so...you were barely eighteen. It wasn't a massive gap! Plus, he was above the consenting age, and could definitely vouch for himself in an unsavoury situation. You trained under the Commission for years prior, so he wouldn't be instigating a relationship with a stranger. And...he was the desperate party. That surely wasn't enough to cause you trouble, right? You were likely to maintain a clandestine courtship anyway, considering your typical jobs - collecting, filing and writing papers, making coffee...the boring things. Hawks assumed them boring, at least. To you, it was no hassle, but dating a junior, one from the 'special hero course'...what would the higher-ups think? Would they attempt to sabotage you?

Well...maybe that wouldn't transpire. Maybe he was about to sabotage any potential chance with you, right here and now. Nothing ventured, nothing gained - he had to pave the way for absolute clarity.

After today, your feelings would acquire complete transparency.

He was nervous beyond compare, wings fluttering and lips trembling. The masque requisitioned by those he was unable to defy, was still under construction, but that wouldn't have mattered, for you had the uncanny ability to dodge his deception. You could always see him for his real self, and the moment you learned his actual name - not the one gifted to him, to cage him further - you never forgot it. You allowed him to remember himself. You used his name, when no-one else cared to. Around you, his humanity could shine. Even at the tender age of fourteen, a monster was consuming him, whittling away at his soul...at his heart. You sedated it. You were a calming influence, a beacon of light and hope.

You were disillusioned.

You hadn't wished to burden him with such a trivial fact, but one day, he mustered up the courage to ask. It was a day in which a dark, fathomless abyss seemed to eclipse your ever-cheerful personality. Why was he recollecting this now? Was it because he could relate? It was something in common, something to cling on to. You may not regard him as anything more than a smitten child - one often forced to keep at a distance, lest his nigh-obsession level love spilled over...one who neglected to practice the jokes and flirtations required for his façade with you, for fear of uncontrollably spluttering and sweating...thus ruining the smallest sliver of a chance he had?

You may not be besotted with him, but your lure was magnetic. He couldn't help himself - his sin was gluttony, and you were a six-course meal.

This was a romance tailored by the stars.

Please accept him! Accept his deepest, most genuine adoration. Accept him, in all his forms...because without you, that dreaded sense of incompletion wormed its way into his heart. This would determine his future - the one he yearned to share with you. He couldn't bear to imagine the consequences, if you rejected him. Would the awkwardness linger forever? Would you ghost him?...Would you quit? But he was already approaching your office. He couldn't second-guess so much. He wasn't a chicken! He quickly caught the butterflies dancing in his stomach. He swallowed hard. He tried to calm the rhythmic beating of his heart, to no avail. The rhythm of love was erratic. He rapped three times on the door, and listened to your call from within. A few, painful seconds ticked by, before he actually stepped inside.

"Keigo!" You beamed, immediately discarding your papers. This earned a poorly-veiled blush - he took priority over your work! You couldn't have ever understood how giddy that made him.

It was so cliché, but he was melting on the spot. "Hey, (Y/n)!"

Whew, he managed not to stutter (for once). Hopefully he didn't appear too chipper, or desperate.

"Are you alright? You seem tense." He refrained from cursing, then, because...why had the gods bestowed such excellent observational skills upon you? It didn't seem at all fair - not when he was trying to woo you.

"Uh...yeah?" You raised an eyebrow at this, wondering why he refused to look into your eyes. Usually, his expression told you that he could quite happily swim for hours amid your (e/c) pools. You weren't stupid. He was too obvious.

When he supplied no embellishment, you asked, "Then...did you need something? I am a little busy right now. If it isn't important..."

"It is!" His sudden outburst stunned you both. "I mean...uh...important. It is - it is important. Really important."

"Okay? Is it nothing the higher-ups should know about?" You were kind of confused, in all honesty.

Hawks' head shook so fast, you were worried he might inadvertently give himself whiplash. "No! It's...you..."

Ah geez, why was he freezing up now? And it began so smoothly!

"Keigo...calm down. You're safe here, you know? My office is a safe space. If it's something personal-"

"Letter!" He cut you off, nearly wheezing at this point.

Before you could formulate a reply, an envelope was thrust on to your desk. Hawks' gaze was still averted. His feet wouldn't move. Perhaps you did possess a quirk, after all - the power to weaken him, to reduce him to an incoherent, love-struck puddle beneath you. He loathed this vulnerability, but he also longed for it. The urge to fly away - far, far away, fought a waning battle with his mind. So he simply resolved to study the walls, or maybe the ceiling. If his sharp, golden eyes, which shimmered with insecurity, ghosted across your face, only to find it betraying disgust or contempt...could he ever bounce back from such humiliation? Such heartbreak? The letter conveyed his innermost feelings in a concise manner, yet the ink was imbued with passion, with love...you couldn't possibly mistake it. His words weren't able to be misconstrued, or laughed off as childlike affection being confused with romance. Years' worth of pent-up hankering had soaked into the paper.

Felicity seemed to make your bones quake, as Hawks gave credence to your long-standing suspicions.

Now...how to respond?

[Word Count: 1419]