Chapter Text
“We’re almost there, wakey-wakey.”
The gruff voice rouses you from your attempt at sleep. You’ve been on plenty of flights over the years, but never one this long. Your role as a Class-S medical asset for the United States Hero Administration means being shipped off wherever you’re needed.
Your current stop?
Japan.
A war-torn Japan.
It’s been a few days since heroes defeated the power-hungry All for One and his underling, Tomura Shigaraki. And just like the rest of the world, you watched the battle from a blurry livestream on your phone with bated breath, staying up into the late hours of the night because of the time difference.
“I’ve never been to Japan, I think it’ll be fun,” Calloway Walker, your handler from the US Hero Administration, comments to himself, leaning past you to peer out the open window. The destruction of the neighboring cities grows more obvious with the descent of the plane. “Actually, scratch that. It’ll definitely be less fun than when my buddies came here last, considering half the country is fucked up.”
Despite the less-than-ideal circumstances that are bringing you to the country, your hands twitch in your lap at the thought of your current assignment here. Both from nerves and excitement.
You’ll be able to help here.
A lot, from the sound of things.
“You really are a quiet thing, huh?” Agent Walker comments. He leans forward, his gangly elbows barely hidden by the cut of his suit jacket, resting on his knees. He’s older. Maybe in his early thirties? Too old to be acting like this, especially considering his job.
You just blink at him.
“Was there a question there?”
“Nah, but I mean, most people talk when they’re spoken to.” He’s a new handler. Your previous ones have been far less chatty. Maybe he was the only one in the Administration willing to make the long-term trip over here. Most people don’t want to be sent to a war-zone, especially not after getting used to their cushy office jobs.
“Sorry,” you say, offering him a shrug. “I’m a little... distracted.”
“Makes sense, this is a big change. You excited?”
It’s an innocent enough question. Well, it would be, if he weren’t asking about whether or not you’re excited about the opportunity to heal a bunch of pro heroes with unfathomable wounds from their battles.
“Stupid question, never mind,” Agent Walker sighs.
You’re glad he drops it. Because deep down, you are excited. And you’re not sure you would’ve been able to hide it, if you’d been pressed.
This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Not only do you get to work on complex cases to really push your quirk and skills, but you also get to heal some of Japan’s best heroes. The heroes who have saved the entire world.
Because, as much as the US pretends that this was mostly a Japanese issue, All for One gaining power and destroying Japan would have meant the destruction of the entire world shortly after.
Your eyes are glued to the crumpled buildings and rubble outside the window as the plane lands with a jerk.
“Damn, rough landing. Maybe they had to shorten the runway, ‘cause of all the damage. Come on, let’s get going.”
You collect your carry-on luggage from the overhead locker, your entire life tucked away into a single bag.
Back in the US, the only people you’re given the opportunity to heal are people rich enough to pay the Hero Administration for your services or the select few cases the Administration deems worthy of a miracle. This means your work is limited to politicians, CEOs, and the occasional top-ranked pro hero.
It’s all under the guise of “working” at one of the most prestigious government-affiliated research institutions. It’s not like you get paid for your work.
But you have a roof over your head and food to eat, so can you complain? The previous handlers you’ve been assigned have all thought not, so you’ve learned to keep your mouth shut, most of the time.
You lug your suitcase down the stairs yourself, Agent Walker too preoccupied with typing away on his phone, one-handed, while dragging along his own suitcase to help.
The stairs open directly onto the tarmac, where a familiar face waits, outside a large SUV with blacked out windows. His face is a hard one to forget, considering how big his online fan club’s presence was.
Hawks, the previous number two hero and current President of the reformed Hero Public Safety Commission, leans against the back passenger-side door of the vehicle. He straightens when he sees you.
“Hello there!” His greeting is cheery. A little out of place, considering the destruction visible from the tarmac. That level of jovial from a man his size is... intimidating to say the least. Even without his signature wings, there’s a broadness in his shoulders that his suit jacket can’t hide. It makes Agent Walker look even ganglier in comparison.
“Agent Walker,” your handler introduces, shoving his phone in his back pocket and extending his hand to Hawks.
“Keigo Takami,” Hawks answers, with a firm shake. His gaze drifts to you, his eyes a startling, piercing gold. “And you must be our guardian angel healer!”
Well, that’s certainly an... interesting greeting.
“I guess I am,” you say, introducing yourself by name.
“Cute,” Hawks nods. “I like Guardian Angel better. How was your flight?” Hawks shrugs.
“Fine,” you answer. He just raises a thick brow, seemingly waiting for more. “Long.”
“Ah, yeah, I can imagine. You flew in from LA, right?”
“Yes.”
What is it with strangely personable and talkative men peppering you with questions?
“Right, well, let’s get going,” Hawks says, opening the trunk for you and Agent Walker to put your luggage.
You climb into the very back row in the middle seat, so you’re able to see both Hawks and Agent Walker when you lean forward a bit.
“Where would you like to head first?” Hawks asks, spinning in his seat to face you.
You’re surprised he’s asking you instead of Agent Walker.
Agent Walker seems surprised too, because he answers before you have a chance to.
“I was thinking the hotel, it’s been a long flight,” Agent Walker says, stretching his arms over his head.
Despite Agent Walker’s answer, Hawks’ intense focus doesn’t fall away from you. It gives you the courage to give your own response.
“I’d... like to get started, if that’s okay.”
“You’re not tired, or anythin’?” Hawks asks, tilting his head in a distinctly bird-like way.
“I can still work,” you nod, your hands clasped in your lap.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Agent Walker huffs. “It’s—“
“Cool, then we can swing by the hotel and drop you off,” he says, nodding to Agent Walker. “And I can bring you to the hospital. Whichever one of the pros do you want to start healing first.”
“I get—I get to pick?”
“I mean, why not? You’re probably going to make your way through all the ones that need you, right?” Hawks asks, flashing you a bright grin. “You are our Guardian Angel, you know.”
“O—oh. Okay, then.”
“Are you serious?” Agent Walker says, letting out a quiet groan.
The sound makes Hawk’s intense, predatory gaze cut towards your handler. Those eyes see too much.
An oblivious Agent Walker seems to take your silence as an answer—because it is—and sighs.
“Fine, no stopping at the hotel first, then.”
“Great!” Hawks says, his jovial tone showing no sign of that earlier, cutting look. “So then, who do you wanna stop by first?”
“Is there anyone in critical condition?”
“Critical as in they’re at risk of keeling over and dying? Nah, they’ve all been stabilized, though a lot of ‘em are in pretty nasty condition. Bedridden and all that jazz,” Hawks says.
You see the hint of his own bandages peeking out past the cuff of his suit jacket. You’re tempted to offer to help heal his wounds to avoid the choice he’s offered you, but given his words, you know it’s best to conserve your energy for the pros that aren’t walking around acting like it’s a fantastic day.
“I could start with All Might?” The words leave your lips as more of a question than an answer, and you wait for his response. Reprimand at worst, redirection at best. But he just grins and nods, leaning up and telling the driver to head towards a particular hospital before sending someone a message on his phone.
“Good choice, apparently the doctors had to put in a whole mechanic shop’s worth of nuts and bolts in him to keep him alive.”
You nod, internalizing the information. Even if it’s not a whole mechanic’s shop worth of foreign material, you’ll have to use your quirk to manage the body’s immune response and scar tissue encapsulation. Something you’re relatively familiar with. Lots of the rich, older men you’ve found yourself seeing over the years have had implants.
“Okay, I can manage that,” You nod.
“Good to hear,” Hawks says, the tone of his voice sobering for a moment.
Hawks and Agent Walker get into an animated conversation about the local bar scene, and whether any near the hotel are still standing. You tune the conversation out, but can’t help but notice how Hawks keeps an eye on you at all times.
It’s... strange.
Different than the watchful eye of previous handlers and certainly different than Agent Walker’s almost careless attention. There’s a weight to his gaze. Like, despite his lighthearted tone, he knows the importance of your presence here. He did call you Japan’s Guardian Angel, after all.
As the SUV drives away from the airport, there are more buildings that seem to be intact, including the hospital you eventually stop at.
“Should I... grab my bag?” You ask as you climb out of the car.
“Nah, it’s okay,” Hawks answers, holding the door open for you to step out of the vehicle.
You nearly trip and fall on your face when a small mouse (dog? bear?) creature pops out from behind Hawks, raising a hand (paw?) in greeting.
“Hello!”
“H—hi?” You say, peering down at the creature (person?) in surprise.
“I am Nezu, the Principal of U.A. High. Welcome to Japan!”
“It’s nice to meet you, Principal Nezu,” you say, bending forward in an awkward bow. Do people do that here? Hawks certainly didn’t, but you don’t think it made sense for him to bow to Agent Walker after a handshake.
“We are eternally grateful to have you here,” Principal Nezu says, looking up at you unblinkingly.
“O—oh—“ This reverence and thanks are something you’re not used to. You don’t know the proper way to react.
“How much have you been told about your stay here?”
“Not much,” Agent Calloway says casually, leaning back against the SUV. “You know how it is, wanted to make the transition and stuff easier.”
Both Principal Nezu and Hawks stare at Agent Calloway with blank expressions.
“I was just told I’m here to help heal whoever needed healing. I assume that’s the pros involved in the war?” You answer, filling the awkward silence.
“Well then,” Principal Nezu says turning his attention back to you. “It looks like I have the pleasure of explaining your role here! You are correct that you are here to offer the blessing of your quirk and its healing capabilities to the heroes involved in the war.”
There’s something about the way he says heroes instead of pros that piques your attention. Will it not just be pros?
Your mind drifts to the livestreams you watched. To the two hero students who overcame all odds to turn the tide in the final battle.
Katsuki Bakugou and Midoriya Izuku.
“We also have the privilege,” Principal Nezu continues, dragging your attention back to the current moment, “of welcoming you as a transfer student to U.A.’s incoming 2-A hero course. U.A. will provide you with all the support you need during your stay.”
Your eyes fly to Agent Walker, who nods in confirmation.
“I—I get to join a school?” You wouldn’t be able to hide the excited smile spreading across your face, even if you tried.
“Yup,” Agent Walker confirms, his brows drawing up in surprise at the change in your expression. “The... arrangement between the US and Japan is two years long. So you get to play student during your time here.”
Hearing the words from your handler’s mouth makes them real.
You instantly sink into another bow towards Principal Nezu, even lower than your first. “Thank you so much. I’ll do my best, you won’t regret this, I promise.”
“I’m sure we won’t,” Principal Nezu says. “Now, I hear you are here to help All Might?”
“Yes,” you nod, standing straight. “Please, lead the way.”
“I got it from here, Nezu,” Hawks says, waving a hand. “No need to crowd those tiny rooms, yeah?”
The comment is strange, since it’s not like Principal Nezu takes up much space, especially compared to Hawks, but you shrug it off.
“Very well,” Principal Nezu nods. “Good luck, young healer.”
You quickly realize as Hawks walks you through the building that it was not originally a hospital. The narrow halls and peeling linoleum scream “repurposed old office building” rather than a facility for the previous number one hero of Japan.
Maybe that’s a testament to how dire the circumstances have become. It makes sense that arrangements like this would be needed, considering everything that’s happened.
No wonder all the people you’ve encountered so far have seemed so... grateful for your presence.
It only makes you more determined to show them what you have to offer.
Hawk’s steps falter when he turns the corner. You peer around his shoulder and your own steps stutter to a halt.
A couple stands in the hall, their heads bowed. They both have similar spiky hair, though the husband is a brunette while the wife is a blonde. The wife clings to an IV pole, her knuckles white around it as she keeps it steady.
But none of that is what grabs your attention.
It’s the person attached to the IV pole.
Katsuki Bakugou.
And he’s sobbing.