Maeve had tears poring down her face.
"Please no," she wheezed, doubling over with pain from her abdomen.
"Nope, my answer's final. Bowl cancer is important to check out at that age. Colonoscopy," Hawks announced, brandishing both his eyebrows and a chicken skewer with medically-inaccurate movements. Maeve let out an embarrassing snort trying to contain her laughter, covering her mouth with her hands.
"You're guessing... Just to confirm... The entry test for Hell's Aniles is a colonoscopy?"
"Oh. I thought you said Hell's... Something else," the man said, and if they had drinks in their mouths both would've spat them out. Hawks needed to adjust his position to allow miniature wings to flutter in glee.
"What- Seriously, what the fuck are you doing with that chicken skewer? Some kind of demonstration? I can't go anywhere with you," Maeve complained good-naturedly, twirling her chopsticks through half finished ramen.
"The thing about me," Hawks poked the skewer in her direction like he was giving a keynote presentation, "is, I'm a visual learner."
They both broke down at that statement, and Maeve was genuinely unsure whether it was crazed exhaustion, or just... Them. He needed to take a moment to collect himself, and Maeve was quickly discovering that he let out high pitched squeaks when trying to hold back laughter.
"See-" his face lit up "-see! I started thinking how a colonoscopy would work and this seems to be the perfect teacher's aid. It is also perfect for showing how to extract a rod from up an arse, which in your case may be more relevant."
"Excellent. I might need to bring you in for UA sex ed classes because a lot of students could use that lesson. They're coming up, actually."
Hawks' face brightened even further at the mention of sex education, then turned the dial to about 5000 watts at her last sentence. Maeve realised her mistake immediately and tried to backtrack, however, he beat her to it.
"It would be my absolute pleasure, Dr Aizawa, to assist UA in any cumming they requi-"
"You have the laugh of a 15-year-old girl and the humour of a 12-year-old boy," Maeve wheezed, her composure well and truly shattered at this point in the evening.
"And you're blushing. Oh my God, you are. Look at that, I made the great Recovery Girl, scourge of villains, the commission, and fashion critics everywhere turn red. Is it always this easy? Fucking hell," He cackled, but his teasing was undermined by a consistent warmth in amber eyes. She found he was like that for everyone. The owner of the food stand they were currently sitting in seemed to see him as a prodigal son who was criminally skinny; Hawks had made fun of both him and the two elderly gentlemen sitting across from them mercilessly, but his sparkling eyes all the while said 'you know I love you, really.' Every time he made a particularly tasteless joke, the man would hold eye contact with everyone in vicinity to make sure no one had actually been offended, all the while giggling uncontrollably. It was such a bizarre mixture of social ineptitude and grace that it was utterly disarming.
"I have been teaching sex ed to teenagers since I was eight, thank you very much. Blushing is a thing of the past."
"There are many things to unpack there. First of all your cheeks are still like little cherry tomatoes. Second of all, what? Eight? Who thought that was a good idea?"
"When they assigned me as school nurse, I don't think they realised that meant I also took over health class. Sex and drugs, baby. I had no fucking clue what I was talking about - we hadn't even gone over reproduction in medical school yet - so I did a quick google search 10 minutes before class started."
"Oh my fucking God."
"Fucking God indeed. I found some very interesting theories about the virgin Mary, which I must say is impressive for 10 minutes. So yeah, I kind of just made up stuff, mainly that abstinence seemed to be the best choice since it all seemed gross anyway. Then talked about drugs, since that was quite the area of expertise for me at the time. I accidentally let slip who all the local dealers were."
"So I missed out on the cooties talk as well, damnit. Shiketsu was far too respectable and yet we still managed a chlamydia outbreak or two."
"And I'm sure you had no part to play in that whatsoever. I think the students from that class are still traumatised to this day. Which I find indescribably funny, so I've insisted on teaching sex ed every year from that point onwards. Something about standing in the front of the class as a child and talking about STDs to pained 18-year-olds was oddly entertaining, especially now! I needed to specifically ask to come back for sex Ed just for the entertainment value of seeing the kid's faces when I talk about consent. I've never even had any interest in those matters personally and suddenly firsthand experience, they won't know what hit 'em."
"Huh. Do you identify as asexual?"
She hadn't even meant to bring it up. Maeve didn't talk about it often because what was there to say, really? Laughably considering the rest of her antics, mentioning it to students felt unprofessional and she wasn't comfortable talking to most friends about it. They always looked at her like it explained a lot, some even asking if it was why she never showed any skin. Essentially the only people she had conversations about it with were Tensei and Jean.
"I'm not sure. I don't even know if that's my orientation, it's... Weird. My quirk has messed up hormonal balances so in some aspects I never really... I don't know. I've never had libido. Not being able to see anyone in a sexual way might be result of that, it might not. I don't know if I was always like that, especially considering how odd my relationship is with other people's bodies. I don't want to invalidate the ace community by claiming to be one of them because there's something wrong with me. It's not well studied in my case, and I'm not particularly interested in exploring that any time soon considering recent events. "
It was also easier to accept she never wanted anybody to see her undressed if they never could. Again, something she never talked about, this time because she literally couldn't. Admitting to one of Japan's sex symbols that she'd never properly been through puberty was, funnily enough, not on Maeve's agenda for that evening. A sex symbol she'd known for less than an hour. It left her uncharacteristically flustered, and she felt her face heat up with discomfort which left the girl even more disgruntled.
"Mm. The way you define your sexuality, orientation, and identity is your choice, and only you get to decide what it means to you or whether it even needs a definition in the first place. It also isn't set in stone. You might wake up tomorrow and realise you're exclusively attracted to sofas, but that doesn't mean what you feel today is wrong or invalid." Hawks shrugged, digging into yet another dish of food.
"It's when people begin questioning that validity when we get issues. If people could just stop denying parts of themselves and do what they want- without feeling they need to do more or less than that- we would have world peace within a day, mark my words," he continued with a mouthful of food.
"God, you're disappointing," Maeve said with disgust. Hawks didn't look particularly surprised or insulted, indicating he'd been told that relatively frequently.
"I was content in the knowledge you were a narcissistic, vapid prick with a blimp of an ego."
"And I was thrilled living my life thinking you were a humourless, spoiled oddity of an animatronic librarian. I'm glad one of us was right. You know where I picked up that wisdom? A decent sex Ed programme, maybe you should come over to Shiketsu for some pointers," he wheezed, finding himself fucking hilarious.
"Are you going to finish that?" Hawks continued, matching the growing crowd of pigeons around the cart with eyes trained on any remaining food. Maeve looked down at her plate of half finished noodles in shock.
"I- No. I feel... I feel full," she realised, voice cracking briefly. Hawks raised eyebrows at her in confusion, the ramen already in front of him.
"It was a big serving," he said amusedly, clearly unsure how to comfort her following this new show of emotion.
"I haven't felt full from a meal in seven years," she explained, hiding a smile behind her hand. Her quirk had always made her insides feel like a bottomless void. But apart from Shoto she hadn't healed someone in three weeks and that pit now had a limit. It was so stupid, and small, but after everything that had happened it was a tiny victory that left her grinning.
"Anyway. I've filled you and the police in on my evening, but you still haven't told me what plans I interrupted on your part."
"Oh, doesn't matter. Just happy I followed the tip since it didn't exactly inspire confidence," Hawks shrugged, digging into her ramen with relish. Maeve just sat, waiting expectantly, and he swallowed with a sigh.
"Okay, fine. I was on a date, but something tells me I would've managed to ruin it perfectly well on my own without a villain calling. No biggy."
"What?!"
"I hated the restaurant, I think that was it. Places that millionaires eat at make me uncomfortable."
"You are a millionaire."
"You know what I mean. I don't trust anywhere that expects you to dip your hands into porcelain water bowls between courses," Hawks snorted, leaning back on his bench.
"So you just stood up your date to follow a probable false lead?" Maeve asked, any thin gratitude towards him for saving her life dissolving into outrage on another woman's behalf.
"Megumi didn't mind, it was our first anyway-"
"Your date was called Megumi? Not Megumi Kou?"
"Yeah-"
"You fucking idiot. You moron."
"How do you know her? I thought you ran in very different circles," Hawks asked, back-pedalling so abruptly she'd be surprised if he didn't get whiplash.
"I know of her. She's revolutionised expectations around sustainable industry, all under the age of 25, as a woman without a quirk. If I had the chance to have dinner with her and ask any questions I wanted... You should've just let me drown, Keigo."
In her excitement, it took a heartbeat to realise the hero's expression of shock wasn't just because she'd suggested he leave her to die. Hawks was staring at her like he'd seen a ghost, and Maeve noticed feathers that had been floating dormant across the street all momentarily twitched, bladed edges turning as one towards her. A millisecond later, they dispersed to mill around and his face relaxed back into an easy smile.
"That's a name I haven't heard in a while. Where'd you pick it up?" Hawks asked, and Maeve hadn't associated him with birds of prey, not really, until that moment. The hero had somehow managed to convince police to make do with a 20 minute briefing onsite, then chirped about how good a particular food cart was 'just around the corner' that she'd been convinced. They'd proceeded to traverse rooftops and trash heaps in order to avoid recognition. Marvel still felt like death, but after being quite literally barricaded inside Heights Alliance for two weeks she was desperate to see anything and everything.
Hawks didn't enquire about her pregnancy once. He'd asked about Dabi only in relation to how the villain had gotten his number (the winged man knew about their mental connection, unsurprisingly) when Maeve knew someone who sought out information for a living must be concerned why Dabi would stick his neck out for a rescue mission. SHE had many questions herself.
He'd been so relaxed the entire evening, even talking to villains at the crime scene, that she'd never considered the man was officially the second most dangerous individual in Japan. Or that the commission most likely had suspicions she was an informant for the league.
Maeve realised that for a genius she was a fucking idiot. Because looking back at her entire life, between glimpses of magazines and snatches of conversations between other pros, his civilian name had never been mentioned once. She'd walked in the inner circles of pro hero life for so long that hero names and personal identities mixed regularly, and referring to someone by their actual name in public was normal. Because to be honest, either pros were famous enough that the public could work it out anyway, or they were obscure enough that it didn't matter in the first place. Maeve had assumed reading Hawks' name in confidential commission files wasn't the only place she'd picked it up.
So Maeve opened and closed her mouth several times, trying to find any acceptable explanation. Hawks lounged back patiently, and while his face had adopted a kind expression, there was something behind his eyes that made her realise she needed to answer very, very carefully.
"Well, the thing is-"
His phone rang. A beat rang out and she took a millisecond to realise it was a ringtone, because Maeve recognised it as a song by the band Eraserheads. Hawks put it up to his ear, mouthing an apology to the stall owner.
"Eraserhead? Yes, I'm sorry the previous message was brief. She's sitting across from me, actually, how about I pass you over?"
Maeve wrinkled her nose at the offered phone like it may detonate at any moment, but Hawks just raised his magnificent eyebrows at her in a silent message.
'You think I'm going to get on a brawling hero's bad side just to put off the inevitable?'
"Hi dad," she croaked into the receiver, getting up from the bench in search of privacy.
***
Hawks knew that he'd like her. He'd also known Recovery Girl was connected to the league of villains by nothing but a pregnancy test and nightmares from his very first day of investigating. She had the guilelessness shared by all instinctively honest people; they had no clue how to lie because they'd never had to.
Dishonesty was like drawing a pearl on white paper. Forming lies, and consequently discerning them, required shaping not the omission itself but the build up of surrounding shadows to make them believable. White pencils on a blank page got you nowhere. Truth was simple to recognise, they could give one or two details and suddenly you had a pearl you could pluck up to admire. Forgery was complex. There was an artistry in choosing which pencil strokes to include, which details, to give a drawing realistic enough someone could look from any angle and still believe they had semi-precious oyster gallstones.
The distaste in Recovery Girl's tone when telling police Dabi was a natural blond from observing his body hair, or sharing heat from his quirk that night, was as easy to fake as breathing. There was a fine line between any strong emotion, from hatred to love to joy, that made them easily interchangeable. Fear and grief were more difficult. Recovery Girl's shaking hands demonstrating chokeholds in further interviews were genuine.
What proved it beyond a doubt, however, was the genuine bafflement she had regarding why Dabi would bother to spare her. Forged discombobulation was so easy to spot it was near embarrassing, and for Recovery Girl acting stupid would be an impressive feat indeed. It was oddly heartwarming, actually, to see her ruminate over the villain's antics that night without ever landing near the correct answer. Why a man would embrace the surgeon before he blew his brains out in order to save her, leave his phone number in her PREDON account, and threaten the lives of Recovery Girl's kidnappers was a complete mystery to her.
She wasn't completely naive, however. Recovery Girl revealed she'd given Dabi the key to her past research and Hawks didn't particularly see why she was so concerned (what were the villains going to do with it, fucking cure cancer?) until the surgeon reminded him Dr Ujiko was still very much active. If Dabi handed them over he could most likely advance Nomu to even worse horrors. When asked why she'd given the password over, Recovery Girl claimed that according to quick calculations the potential lives saved from her work was worth those lost due to the league. Hawks chose to believe her.
What also bothered her was why the scarred villain had clearly taken her phone number, which was present amongst the research. The only obvious alteration to thousands of pages of documents was a foreign number instead of hers. Hawks pretended to jot it down in his notebook, when in reality it was already in the hero's phone. Set to the ringtone of 'sex on fire," to be exact.
"My phone was very obviously stolen," she'd frowned, playing with the cuffs of Hawks' jacket. "Why would he bother to show me he'd taken my number? I don't have the SIM card."
Hawks had shrugged.
"Not everyone makes the cut for criminal mastermind status, I'm afraid to say. He wouldn't have thought through your newly phoneless existence when trying to intimidate you."
"No. It's a message." Maeve's face became, if possible, more pale than usual. "Has there been any word about the Kurano clan? Any at all?"
"Not yet. We'll find them, they won't get anywhere near you again-"
"No, no, that's not why I- he's saying something with this, and it isn't about intimidating me. He's saying I'll soon have my SIM card again. Because in the midst of warning others not to mess with league property, someone'll get it back for me," she realised, covering a twisted mouth with her hands.
"The Kuranos knew what they were doing in hurting you. We'll try to find them before villains, but to be honest I don't have a whole lot of sympathy for them."
"Nobody deserves him," she had said quietly, staring into space. Hawks had needed to divert concerned questions from shop and stall owners all evening regarding her appearance. She looked pathetically absurd. Somehow like an abuse victim who decided to turn the tables and become a rap artist, with her over large fur coat, braids, unicorn trousers, and swollen face. It was a struggle not to let his own worry show through. He knew if it did they'd lose the modicum of trust gained so far.
Hawks had avoided search efforts for the gang, instead choosing to stay with her until the train back to Musatafu. This was largely in the knowledge that he could find the Kuranos pitifully easily and be forced to hand them over to the police, losing any good faith with the league. A small, twisted part of him hoped Dabi located and dealt with them before he could get there.
So he sat eating ramen instead, wondering how someone so clearly honest could have access to the name Keigo Takami, and whether she knew what it meant. Recovery Girl had escaped around the side of the food cart even after he'd warned her his feathers would follow within hearing range. He couldn't relate to the reluctance in her face when accepting the phone, because he'd never had a parental figure who cared enough to give him a lecture. It was amusing to see her of all people in an oddly normal teenage situation. She was technically just a kid who'd snuck across the country to see a concert.
"The Icarus ballet, yeah. Can we please talk about this when I get back-"
She broke off and stood in silence, leaning against a wall. Hawks kept his feathers at a respectful distance, although he was sorely tempted to drift them closer and catch voices from the speaker. He loved secondhand family drama.
"You don't think I know how irrational this was? I do, I really do. But... let me finish- I can't do this anymore, Dad. This waiting. I feel like I'm still in that forest, still holding my breath against poison. All the air in the world has become sand and when I look in the mirror I just see a shell made from paper machete. But what have I even lost? This is supposed to be the best part of my life and when I think back all I can smell is chemicals and musty classrooms. It's like I've been drifting through hallways of institutions like a puppet ever since I signed my life away- I did, I love you, and I love UA, but they've been exploiting me ever since they told me they saved my future. For what? To sit inside a nurses office and kill myself so that those institutions can sanction children destroying each other for so called training in order to then go out and dredge people into a justice system. When all the 'villains' needed was someone to buy them lunch and have a chat about losing custody of their kids because their quirk was deemed unstable by the social system, which has also meant they haven't held down a job in the last 16 months, and God knows no educational system ever did them any good in controlling that quirk in the first place. Now they're behind bars because these kids want to get higher rankings in a law enforcement system that makes them compete against each other to lock up as much 'evil' as they can: the only criteria for who's the greatest hero. Except for popularity, my mistake, so we can gratify ourselves into thinking we somehow have a role to play in keeping the streets 'clean from evil' by voting in the latest poll. I'm sick of it, I'm so sick of it. But I don't see any way out, because it's the only thing I've ever known and for the longest time I actually thought I was making a difference. I'm just this paper doll stuck together for a specific purpose but inside there's nothing there except all the sand I can't fucking breathe. It's starting to slip through the cracks. So I just wanted to let myself feel young, and stupid and free for one night. One night to be selfish. Then I'll get my hero license to make UA happy, placate Dabi until he's locked up in Tartarus while whichever bastard who turned him into a monster walks free, and go back to satisfying people who seem to think I'm any kind of role model for their children. Every time a kid says they want to be like me when they grow up I can't- I'm so, so glad I can't have children and I never will. Risking putting someone through what I've endured would be insurmountably cruel. You wanted me to be fucking honest in my explanation. There you have it."
***
Maeve sat back down across from Hawks and stared him dead in the eye.
"I know your name because I hacked into the commission when I was younger. I wanted to find information on someone but found your files instead. All I know is your name and birth date. I'm sorry."
"Who were you looking for?"
"I'd prefer not to say."
"Alright. I have a proposition to make."
Mauve sat silently, her nerves shattered yet pushed to new heights by his odd placidity.
"The number of people who call me by that name would fit in the lines of your injured palms. I hide it for the same reason you never remove your gloves. That reason, in part, is why I'm suggesting you move to Fukuoka and work at my agency."