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Keigo was… actually not really beautiful. She was tall, taller than a normal Japanese girl, and was wearing a long dress that almost touched the floor. Her face, though young, was quite boyish, with thin lips and overly large eyebrows, hastily styled, and catching the eye first. Her shoulders were broad and looked incongruous with her thin pale arms and sharp collarbones; and she herself was not graceful at all, just like those girls from middle school who were never complimented and the boys laughed and did all sorts of mean things because of their childish foolishness. And if it was not her quirk, she would never get a chance to marry someone like Touya.
His father, Enji Todoroki, the number two hero Endeavour, was insane about getting the perfect heir who could beat the All Might in this silly race where the winner didn’t even know it existed. Touya was the first failure, Fuyumi was not even considered as worthy to try — Enji always said that woman could never become a really good hero — but Touya always called her the one and a half failure in his mind. As for Natsuo, oh, he was the failure from the moment he was born: a quirkless second son of Todoroki was forgotten by his own father. But Shouto was born perfect: he got both fire and ice quirks and unlike Touya had fire resistance. Unfortunately for Endeavour he had weak heart, just like Rei’s mother, Kouri Himura. He died on a hot day in the middle of the summer because his tiny childish heart couldn’t handle quirk overusing. Shouto was just twelve. And now Enji was too old to have another child.
Touya got strong fire, the blue flames were much hotter than Endeavour’s, and Enji wanted him to have a child with that poor — in both meanings — girl. The Fierce Wings was truly amazing quirk and she could become a gorgeous hero if she hasn’t been sold to born a heir for Todoroki.
“Is that a deal, Todoroki-dono?” A man, Keigo’s father, was ugly, his nasty smile pissed Toya off: how could anyone sell his own daughter and be so excited about it. What a pathetic, petty man. “She is not the prettiest, but she’s docile and not stubborn at all.”
“Is she clean?”
“Clean and immaculate, still a virgin, Todoroki-dono, sir.” A man stretched his lips in a greedy grin, showing yellow teeth. “Do not worry, Todoroki-dono, I brought all her documents and health certificates.”
“Good. You better grow your hair, no normal girl would allow herself to wear her hair that short,” Endeavour looked at her, frowning. Keigo nodded quickly and lowered her head.
It’s like buying a new car or a flat — Touya thought, listening to that conversation. And even if Keigo wasn’t the most beautiful girl in Japan, she was still young and pretty, just for someone else. But she would be miserable and sorrowful for the rest of her life so her children would. Maybe, just maybe, if her father was trying to find someone rich to help her escape the abject poverty they lived in, a slight smile would blossom on her face instead of a bitter sadness.
The back seat of the car was clearly cramped, her wings pressed tightly against the leather seat. Keigo kept her hands in her lap, not daring to turn her head and look at Touya or out the window. She didn't even dare to wipe the tears from her long lashes.
They haven’t spoken until the late evening, when the sky was lit only by a lone moon, half hidden by clouds. It was a long day for both, long and gloomy day. Her drooping face and trembling lips had grown tiresome to Touya; she hardly spoke at all, and all the words that came out of her were terribly inanimate, utterly formal.
“Stop making that face,” he said, looking at her with a cold, rough stare — the same stare his father used to give when he was horribly displeased about something. “Life is not fair, just suck it up and learn to make the best of it, even in these situations. Good night, Keigo.”
Her wings fluttered, and she straightened, as if she remembered that she had pride, then bowed politely, saying good night. They went to the different rooms, not seeing each other again until morning.
At the breakfast nobody asked who was she or where did she come from: they all already knew why she was here. Fuyumi looked at her with pity, with a strange look of sympathy on her face. Natsuo, as he usually did, hadn’t said a word, but for some reason, he wouldn’t take his eyes off her. On a gloomy breakfasts like that, Touya secretly wished to be dead, burned alive by his own quirk, on Sekoto Peak many years ago. He wished people would notice that Endeavour is more villain than a guy, three years younger than Touya, with a dangerous quirk, which he clearly had no control over. He tried countless times to tell people the truth about their hero, but each time he was only laughed at and called a spoilt son of his father. And he just gave up. No matter how many times he would run away from home, the number two hero would find him. The only way to escape was death but bloody hell, he wanted to live so badly.
“You have to eat your breakfast,” Enji said angrily. “I paid for you more than you’re worth not to have you bear me sick heirs.”
And that’s it. No need to hide the truth or to speak in a veiled way — he knew that as number two hero he would never face any consequences for his actions. He saved Japan from a very dangerous villain — a frightened boy who needed help — did the thing that All Might couldn’t have done. When they had a fight Touya wanted Tomura Shigaraki to win. To win and to end it all. But Shigaraki was dead, he was killed, and journalists gleefully reported on it, calling that murderer a hero.
“Hey, birdie,” Touya whispered in her ear, suddenly getting too close. Keigo really was like a canary locked in a cage forever; and if usually girls blushed when he was that close, she was too scared to even look at him. “Why aren’t you eating? I haven’t seen you eating anything yesterday, aren’t you hungry?”
“S- sorry, Todoroki-sama,” her voice was quiet and Touya hated that ‘Todoroki-sama’ from her. But gosh, how scared she was. She probably understood just now, that her fate was to end up here, not even being considered as a woman, but as an incubator.
“Just Touya. Don’t worry, he won’t touch you, I promise. Is something wrong with your food or maybe you don’t feel well?” He asked as soft as he could, but that probably wasn’t enough to assuage her fear.
“The food is gorgeous, Touya-san,” she said it so quietly, barely audibly, that Touya had to strain his hearing to make out her words. “But I’m allergic to rice and eggs.”
“Why haven’t you said earlier?” The question was asked louder than he intended and Keigo twitched in fright. “Only rice and eggs?” Keigo nodded. “Linyu, Keigo can’t eat rice and eggs, go make her another meal.”
Linyu had been their personal chef for a long time, since Rei had started forgetting her children’s names more and more often and was almost unresponsive to her own. She knew a lot recipes and remembered everyone’s preferences well. Linyu was born in a small village in China, but just a few months after her birth, her parents moved to Japan and the only thing that stayed as a reminder of her motherland was a name. She didn’t know Chinese and didn’t know any traditions, but knew almost all the cuisine of her country. Touya did not really like it but he liked her soft drawn face with wrinkles under her eyes and dimples on her cheeks — she always smiled maternally gentle, kept Toya from acting crazy and prayed every night for the soul of the dead child.
“You are here for less than a day and you already brought problems,” Enji said as he finished his breakfast. “Don’t forget why you are here.”
“Father,” Touya interrupted his speech, and he knew that Endeavour wouldn’t stop at just one sentence. “She is allergic, that is not her fault. And it’s just food, I’m sure it wasn’t much work for Linyu.”
When Endeavour left the room, Touya turned his attention back to Keigo. She ate slowly and tears ran down her cheeks, her shoulders were shaking but she didn’t make a sound, so scared was she. And at that moment Touya thought that their first night together would be a torture for her, that it would be without her consent, and he felt so sick at the mere thought of it that he couldn’t even look at the girl again. How did his mother handle it, where did she find enough strength to love children who were conceived in violence.
That was a long breakfast, and they left alone in the dining room. Touya was patiently waiting for when she’s full, without stopping to think about what he’s going to have to do to her. What if her first child would not be good enough for Endeavour? What if she tried to end her life in the cold bath, like Rei did — fortunately unsuccessfully — a few days after Shouto’s death.
“Do you have any plans for today?” It was a stupid question, but Touya didn’t know how to start the conversation. Keigo shook her head, raising her eyes at him. “Do you want to go shopping with me? You didn’t take anything, only your eyeliner,” he smiled, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Wow, it’s really waterproof.”
“It’s my birth marks. If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to stay home.”
“As you wish, birdie. If you want anything, please don’t be shy to ask me.”
She may not have been beautiful like the girls on the covers of fashion magazines, but her genuine smile at that moment was the most beautiful thing in the world. She was the sun. She could be the brightest sun, but this sun was hidden by dense clouds.
“There’s a beautiful garden in the backyard,” Touya said casually, suddenly, giving in to some incomprehensible impulse of feelings. “Come with me.”
He took her hand, with long, a bit calloused from housework, fingers. Keigo adjusted the hem of a long dress, soft green, with a wide sash decorated with embroidered flowers, still holding Touya’s hand, and looked at him with her golden eyes, still reddish after crying. She was like a flower herself, delicate and fragile. Her voice sounded like a taut string, as if each word came out of her soft lips with an effort, like she was making her last speech before the execution. Though surprisingly Keigo was well-read and intelligent, she was a pleasure to talk to. It’s hard to say that she was really a daughter of her father — a man who’s stinking of alcohol and hardly ever had a book in his hands not by an accident.
It was a warm day of early autumn, but Keigo seemed to be cold. Touya sat closer, hugging her with one hand, sharing his warmth. Dinner was coming. Touya looked at his father, who definitely wasn’t in the mood today, and pulled Keigo closer, noticing that she was about to cry. Oh, Endeavour was truly terrifying. Touya hated the fact that he could do nothing with the number two hero, he was too weak and he couldn’t even protect Keigo. And somehow she knew it.
Enji was talking about his plans on her for the whole dinner. He was the one who talked that evening, everyone saw his mood clearly and no one wanted to risk getting hit. Touya held her hand under the table, but that definitely wasn’t enough. Keigo hasn’t eaten much and fortunately Endeavour didn’t notice, or maybe just didn’t pay any attention to it.
One day I’ll find the way to kill you — Touya thought, looking at his father with a sidelong glance. But Endeavour was too strong for him, and he did a lot to show Touya, what could happen in case of disobedience. Touya remembered the dark closet and the pain of the ripped earring, remembered that if he covered his head and stomach, his father would beat him on his back and arms; that it was useless to intercede: it would only make his father angrier.
It was selfish but Touya asked Keigo to sleep in his room tonight. She couldn’t refuse, but it wasn’t the begging turquoise eyes that she couldn’t refuse, it was Todoroki Touya. She was afraid of him, too; it seemed to her that behind all that pretence of gentleness and kindness lay a man as cruel as his father. Touya was not blaming her, but the possibility of becoming a man like his father was terrifying. Keigo shyly changed her clothes — as a gentleman Touya turned away from her looking at the wall — and sat on the one side of the bed. She looked adorable in the beige sweatshirt that almost reached mid-thigh and the same long pyjama trousers.
“This bed is so big…” Keigo whispered in amusement, and that were her first words since Endeavour came home. Her wings were much bigger than the bed and even if she laid on the middle of it, most of the feathers would have been left hanging off the edge of the bed.
“Will you be comfortable sleeping with anyone else with your wings?” He asked accurately, trying not to insult her with the words. “I mean, your wing are gorgeous, no doubt, but they are also large and I’m afraid I could damage them somehow.”
“Do not worry Touya-san,” she touched his hand, probably trying to show that everything was fine, but Touya saw her lips trembling. “My wings are strong enough to handle your weight. And the bed itself is thousand times more comfortable than all the previous ones I had slept on.”
It was a joke, probably, but Touya couldn’t force himself to smile. It was a sad joke, and at the moment the lights were off, he hugged her gently, touching the tiny fluffy feathers with his fingertips. She was so cold, much colder than a person should be. Keigo covered him with a wing, hiding her face in his chest. She was so tiny in his hands, and Touya couldn’t help but hug her more tightly with his warm hands.
“I would never become a person like him, I promise,” Touya whispered in a shaky voice. But Keigo didn’t hear him — she was already asleep in the warmth he gave her. Maybe, when they were alone in the room, and Endeavour was somewhere, so they could pretend he is not here, in this house, she felt safe with Touya.
That night was cold, the moon was hidden by heavy, thunderous clouds. Keigo clung tightly to him, occasionally flinching at the flashes of thunder in the distance. But what happened in the morning has left Touya in absolute shock.
Keigo wasn’t boyish, she was a fucking boy. She, no, he was scrawny and therefore seemed girlishly fragile. The dress hid everything, but Touya felt it under his palm. What kind of a joke was it?
“Fuck, Keigo, wake up right now and explain all this shit,” he frowned, grabbing him by the shoulders. “Wake fucking up!”
His angry face scared Keigo the moment he opened his eyes. But Touya didn’t believe him, this guy risked deceiving Endeavour himself, he played the innocent girl and pretended to be fragile and miserable. What for? For money of course. Thinking about it, not a bad scam to get money to live on for the rest of your life.
“What. Was. Your. Plan.” He muttered through gritted teeth, pinning Keigo to the bed. “If you don’t say anything, I’ll burn your fucking wings, asshole.”
“It was his plan,” Keigo whispered, looking right into his eyes. “He took the money and probably left the country by now. Sorry, I can’t say where he went.” He averted his gaze, staring at the wall. “Anyway, do whatever you want with me, I knew that one day you will find out who I really am and I’m ready for anything, even for the death.”
That was like a bucket of ice water on his head: Keigo really was sold just so his father could take the money, and he has never thought what would happen with his son. And he saw how terrifying Endeavour was, so he just waited for the death row. It wasn’t a poor girl, who was going to be forced to become an incubator to fulfil Enji’s stupid ambitions, but still it was a tool, not a person with his own dreams.
“You know, keep pretending you are a girl,” Touya said suddenly. “You can be pretty useful. Just keep wearing those ugly dresses and being a girl.”
Keigo nodded slowly, sighing. Well, he hadn’t a choice anyway.
The second breakfast at Todoroki manor was horrible. Touya was acting like everything was normal, he hugged Keigo, touched him more than usual and constantly annoyed his father with this blatant vulgarity. Keigo felt that murderous gaze on his skin. Touya also did but hasn’t paid any attention to it: most Endeavour’s displeasure would be directed at Keigo, and now it’s not Touya’s problem. He tried to be nice to that person, but Keigo lied right to his face and it was pretty upsetting.
“Touya, stop doing this in front of the whole family,” Enji said demandingly.
“I just can’t wait for the moment when we go to our bedroom with Keigo and make a pretty baby,” Touya looked at him, stretching a smile into a grin. “Wasn’t it what you wanted, father?”
“You had the whole night.”
“Oh, who cares,” Touya rolled his eyes, touching the back of Keigo’s neck with his warm palm. “She is mine, I can do whatever I want and whenever I want with her. Am I right, Keigo?”
“Yes, you are, Touya-san.”
Last night Touya promised, that he’d never become a person like his father, but now Keigo thought, that he was much worse than Endeavour: it all was a game for him, a game where he played with Keigo life, and for some reason Keigo believed that he could easily expose the deception to his father just to see how he would react. But not everyone at the table was enjoying it so much. Fuyumi and Natsuo looked at Touya with horror mixed with disgust: it pained them to see their older brother becoming a copy of their father, how instead of defending this poor girl he mocked her in public, speaking exactly like Endeavour, as if Keigo was nothing more than a purchase.
“Well, sooner you start, sooner the baby comes,” Enji shrugged, getting up from the table. “In that case, I’m waiting for your results.”
He was no longer kind to Keigo, his touches were no longer gentle and his eyes were colder than glaciers. But Keigo endured all his assaults and rudeness, pressing his lips together and forbidding himself to shed tears. After all, his fate was grim and gloomy, nothing changed in his life.
Touya had a beautiful bookshelf in his room with books of all kinds, from the classic literature to the modern novels, they all looked interesting, but Keigo wasn’t sure he’s allowed to touch anything in Touya’s room. Right now he was in the shower, and Keigo had no choice but to gaze at the interior of this huge but completely soulless room: it was made according to the style that included both Japanese traditional interior and contemporary practicality.
“Can’t decide what you want to read?” This voice was nothing like Touya’s voice in the morning and all day, it was much softer and calmer, like Keigo still was that poor girl, that only aroused in him a feeling of pity. “I really like this volume of short stories. There is a kind of entourage in them, especially in ‘Anna on the Neck’. There was something similar in you at first glance,” Touya grinned, ruffling his hair. “I won’t bite you, chill. It’s no fun to insult you more, count it as the payment for your lie. Why are you looking at me like that? Jeez, of course I wouldn’t mock you for the rest of your life. Moreover, as a boy you are much prettier, just take off this ugly dress, you look like a pervert for me now.”
“It’s easier to hide the fact that I have a dick instead of vagina in the pleats of a skirt,” Keigo laughs quietly. “And for me it’s not a pleasure too. My father made me lose nearly fifteen kilos just to be more like a girl. You can’t imagine how hard it is for me not to eat every last crumb. Linyu-san makes so much gorgeous food, but when I start to gain my weight back…”
“Your father made you starve? Huh, welcome to the shitty father club.”
Keigo smiled, letting out a quiet chuckle.
“Yeah, it was so shocking that a hero could do things like that. Heroes are really just pretty pictures on the TV. Tomura-kun was so right about it.”
“Tomura-kun? You knew him?”
“We were close friends, I- I’ve spent a lot of time in his place while my father drank too much. He was a good guy, we played video games together and…”
“And my father just killed him…” Touya said, realising something really important. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, the only one who should be dead is Endeavour…”
“Don’t overthink, it’s not your fault. As if you can do anything to him. You are afraid of him too.”
“I’m still sorry.” Touya hugged him from the back, putting his chin on Keigo’s shoulder.
They both were broken, and it brought them closer together than love could. They understood each other. They were held hostage to a shitty life, but somehow, the one, who really understood, made it a bit easier. It was not love, but that night was full of a pleasure Keigo had never experienced before. It was overwhelming, Keigo was so full of feelings of a different kind, that his bird brain was about to explode, he could barely breathe and Touya had to help him with it. Lips to lips, body to body.
The night was calm and chill, but Keigo didn’t feel the cold: Touya’s embrace was warm, and it was enough for both. He covered him with one wing, laying on his chest. And everything seemed to finally go well. From breakfast until the late evening, Keigo was a poor girl, but when they finally were staying alone in Touya’s room, he became himself again.
A month passed. Keigo gained a few kilos and a healthy blush appeared on his face. He hasn’t talked to Fuyumi or Natsuo yet — for some reason they didn’t want to speak with Touya — and the conversation with Endeavour was not possible. Keigo read a few books, finding the first one, the one that Touya recommended to him, really interesting. He didn’t really get the phrase about three Anna’s, but it probably was some kind of a joke. He read, laying on Touya’s hips, sometimes he read in the garden, but it was getting colder and he spent more time indoors. Luckily, the villains have suddenly become more active and Endeavour spent most of the time at work. The days he came home, he was angrier than usual, and the fact that Keigo still hadn't gotten pregnant was particularly pissing him off.
Understanding gradually turned into feelings. Keigo felt love on his warm fingertips and rough lips, and gave love to the burn scars on his body, the top of his white hair and to everything in Touya. He wasn’t sure for a hundred percent that it was called love — he had never known what kind of feeling it was: parents never loved him — but he wanted to call this feeling love.
It was a warm autumn evening. Keigo took the dress off, looking at himself in the mirror. He had recently started wearing a corset: his body was gradually returning to its usual state and it was getting harder and harder to pretend that everything was all right. The sleeves were getting puffier, the voluminous flounces on his blouse hid his broad shoulders, and his skirt now always reached the floor. Touya went to the kitchen to bring some tea and he was supposed to be here about now. The door opened with a slight creak, but it seemed the person who entered was much larger than Touya. Endeavour. It was Endeavour who stood silently in the doorway. The air was getting hotter, it was more and more difficult to breathe.
“You, bastard,” he gritted his teeth, clenching his neck with one hand in a moment. Keigo clutched at his wrist, wheezing fearfully. The broad palm of his hand was burning his skin, and Keigo only fluttered helplessly, knocking everything in the room with his wings. “You think you have the right to lie to number two hero?!”
The clinking of shattering porcelain was barely audible over the noise Keigo made with his wings. The grip on his neck suddenly loosened, and Endeavour took a step back, falling awkwardly onto his back. Touya was breathing heavily, holding a cast iron tray in his hands with blood slowly dripping from it.
“Don’t you dare hurt Keigo,” he stepped in front of his father and pure madness blazed in his eyes. “You are the fucking trouble,” the first punch came on his cheekbone, as if Touya was still hesitating.
“You ruined my life. You ruined everyone’s lives. Shouto died because of you. Mom tried to kill herself because of you.” The punches were getting harsher and Keigo noticed a spark of blue flame on his bloody fists. “You took my little brother from me, you broke Fuyumi and Natsuo. Why are you still calling yourself a hero? Why are you buying a human being for the second time and don’t face any fucking consequences? Why we should suffer because you are a fucking loser?” Touya cried the last phrase loudly and the flames burst brightly, literally melting the bloodied face.
Keigo pulled himself together, slowly coming to Touya and hugging him from the back. He had to stay calm as much as he could because Touya was losing control over his quirk and it hurted him. He cried and tried to catch his breath, but he’d just beaten his father to death with his bare hands and was having a crazily cheerful mood, but the sight of a terrified Keigo, his eyes red from lack of air, kept his mind going. Touya was gulping for air, hearing his own heartbeat.
“Fuck,” he said a long twenty minutes later, when he finally took control over all his emotions. “I fucking killed him. Fuck.”
“Yeah, you killed him,” Keigo didn’t sound worried at all.
“Old bastard finally died. Oh god, I really did this. But now we need to get rid of his body…”
“Or we could leave it like that and ‘accidentally’ drop a couple of interesting papers for the police,” chuckled Keigo, though it sounded more like a cough. “Let’s start a new life as the freest people in the world.”
“And burn these pretentious fuckers who call themselves heroes to ashes.”