#unless people find tumblr formatting too horrible. id prefer not to post this on there

[bakedpieceofchicken]

YES THIS IS @inexchangeforyoursoul‘S FAULT AND YES THEIR ART IS AMAZING WHY DONT YOU GO CHECK IT OUT ALREADY AND (EVEN THO THE POST I LINKED HAS IT) IM ALSO GOING TO LINK THE AMAZING FIC SOMEONE ELSE WROTE FOR IT!!!

Word Count: 3,173

Summary: Sako becomes unexpectedly acquainted with his colleague’s son.

notes: i have never written mr. compress in detail before this, just a warning. oh well, let’s see :^)

There was a knock on the door.

Keigo’s wings perked up in response to the unexpected noise. The little winged boy, distracted from the TV show he had been watching, stood up on the couch with both feet (dad would definitely yell at him if he weren’t asleep right now). He looked at the door--and then looked at the littered floor space between the couch and the door.

Keigo launched himself off the couch, using his wings to guide him above the floor to the door in only one magnificent leap. Alright, maybe it could be considered cheating that he was using his quirk. Nobody was keeping count, though.

Giddy that he made it (he knew he would but it still made him happy knowing he achieved such an impressive feat), he opened the door slightly and peaked his head out (just like how dad taught him)...

...to a stranger he didn’t recognize. Disappointment hit Keigo like a truck.

“You’re not mom,” Keigo told the man, frowning.

Sako blinked at Keigo, slightly startled at the sight of the child. Takami never mentioned having a son and Sako certainly never suspected the man of having one.

The boy didn’t look like his father too much but there were still some distinct similarities that made it undoubtedly clear that they were related by blood.

“I’m afraid not,” Sako said with a deeply sympathetic tone, taking off his hat and slightly bowing politely to the boy. “My name is Sako Atsuhiro. I’m a colleague of your father’s and I came to discuss work-related business with him. Is he around?”

“He’s sleeping right now,” Keigo said. “He doesn’t like being woken up.”

“...Should I come another time, then?” Sako asked. “What time would be appropriate?”

Keigo shrugged. “Sometimes he’ll be asleep for an hour and sometimes he’ll be asleep for ten.”

That did sound like the sleeping schedule of the erratic man Sako was horribly familiar with. “Ah.”

“You can come in though,” Keigo said. “If you want.” He opened the door wider this time, allowing Sako to see the absolute massive mess that was their apartment.

Used food cartons unceremoniously thrown around on the ground, empty bottles of alcohol all over the place--was that broken glass on the floor in the middle of the living room?

It was even worse than what Sako had imagined Takami’s living space would look like. He had a child living with him, for goodness sake.

“Don’t step on that spot.” Keigo pointed to the area with the broken glass. “Dad says the pieces are sharp and you could cut your feet there.”

Well, the pieces wouldn’t because Sako was still wearing his thick-soled shoes. He appreciated the kind sentiment of the child, though. It was terribly endearing and so... different from his father.

“Thank you for the warning, my boy.” Sako ruffled the child’s hair. “Do you have a name that I could call you by?”

“Takami Keigo,” Keigo answered, floating himself above the ground to the couch. The couch was nice; it was his safe spot away from the rest of the apartment. “You’re the first person I’ve met who wants to visit dad. The only other person who ever visited was mom.”

Not surprising. Sako wouldn’t consider Takami to be a very sociable man. “Where is that mother of yours?”

“I don’t know,” Keigo answered in a genuinely naive tone. “She left and then never came back.”

Sako winced at the brutal honesty. The situation had become quite clear to him, now. Sako sighed, taking another glance around the apartment filled with trash. Oh, Takami... what a failure of a father you appeared to be. This just won’t do, will it?

“Do you want to see a little trick I can do?” Sako asked the child with a wink. Keigo’s eyes lit up with interest and Sako felt pride swell in his chest for having made some form of light return in the boy’s eyes. 

“What kind of trick?”

“Well, if I told you now, it’d be spoiling the show, wouldn’t I?” Sako shouted, raising his arms in a grand gesture. He plucked the remote from the couch and turned off the TV. “Are you ready to watch the show?”

Keigo brightly smiled in anticipation. “Yeah!” He said, having appeared to be more excited than ever. He bounced in his seat on the couch, eyes locked onto Sako, and Sako was oddly sentimental about the fact that he was performing for someone else again.

“Let the show begin!”

--

“Hi, Sako-san,” Keigo politely greeted, opening the door at the sight of the man. “Dad’s not here at the moment.”

“That’s fine,” Sako said. “Do you mind if I...?”

“No!” Keigo gestured for Sako, “Come in!”

Sako stepped into the apartment, examining it once again for any changes since his last visit. Keigo ran to his spot on the couch again, looking at him expectantly.

“Are you going to do another trick?” Keigo asked. “I wanna see!”

Oh, the crushing guilt Sako felt at that moment. Of course, the boy wanted to see him perform again. He was so enraptured the last time Sako saw him--and he kept asking about how Sako pulled his tricks off. Sako replied to all those questions with the same answer: A magician never reveals his secrets!

Which made the boy quite irritated, but Sako was not a lenient man when it came to the art of his practice.

“Your father should be home soon,” Sako said after glancing at his watch to keep track of the time. “There wouldn’t be enough time, I’m afraid.”

Keigo’s face scrunched up and those wings of his drooped in disappointment. If his goal was to guilt-trip Sako even further, than he’s certainly achieved that in no less than five seconds. How keen of him to manipulate Sako’s emotions like that, intentional or unintentional.

“Well, maybe I have time for one trick...”

It was rather amazing how a child’s mood can fluctuate wildly within such a small span of time. Keigo’s wings perked up immediately and the child’s eyes lit brightly in comparison to the dullness that once occupied them. He didn’t smile, but he was visibly cheered up at the prospect.

“Watch closely,” Sako ordered the boy. He pulled out a small piece of paper and a black pen from his coat pocket. He drew a little bird and showed Keigo his drawing. It was a silly little doodle, nothing too amazing. That wasn’t the point of the trick.

He took one of the empty bottles from the floor, rolled up the piece of paper and inserted it into the bottle. Keigo watched him, observant eyes focused on the movements of his hands.

Sako then placed the bottle on the living room table in plain sight where Keigo could see it. His gloved hands blocked Keigo's view of the bottle and the bottle magically disappeared in between his hands that moved apart from each other.

“You turned the bottle into a marble,” Keigo complained. “That’s the most obvious trick you could’ve pulled off!”

“Oh?” Sako grinned deviously. “Why don’t you check what’s under your seat, then?”

Keigo blinked before hesitantly standing up from the couch and lifting the couch cushion to reveal an empty coffee can.

“Look inside,” Sako said and the man could see the realization visibly dawning upon the boy. It was quite amusing, he had to admit.

Keigo, already having a good idea of what was going to happen, shook the can and out came the rolled up piece of paper. He unfolded it and his face displayed visible shock at the drawn bird.

“No way!” Keigo shouted, jumping. He showed the drawing to Sako with a look of disbelief. “There’s no way! How did you do that?”

Sako only smirked smugly in response, causing the winged boy to huff in annoyance at the lack of verbal response. “One of these days, I’m going to figure it out! I bet you have a second, secret quirk!”

“That’s quite the theory,” Sako said. “Unfortunately, it’s not true. Ask your father if you really don’t believe me.”

“I bet dad doesn’t even know!” Keigo added. “You can’t keep it a secret from us forever!”

The door opened, revealing Takami (who was fashionably late by ten minutes). He blinked at the sight of Sako and his rather riled-up son together.

“Am I interrupting something?”

--

Takami was sleeping soundly on the armchair, snoring loudly and reeking of alcohol.

Sako had decided (against Keigo’s warnings) to try to wake the man, but the man was a heavy sleeper. He decided to give up after five minutes of trying to wake him up to no avail.

“You’re lucky,” Keigo told him. “He gets really mad if you actually do wake him up.”

“That’s how that happened.” Keigo pointed to the area with broken glass, which still had not been cleaned up. It had been weeks now.

“My, oh my,” Sako shook his head in disapproval. He took one of the plastic bags lying on the floor and started to pick up the individual pieces of the broken bottle with his gloved hands. “Do you happen to have a broom in the vicinity?”

“No,” Keigo said. “Sorry.”

It’s not your place to apologize, Sako thought sourly. He felt pity for the boy, if he had to be honest. This apartment was definitely not in suitable living condition for any children.

“Is... is there any way I can help?” Keigo asked. He bent down besides Sako and tried to pick up one of the pieces with his bare hands--

Sako grabbed him by the wrist. “Don’t,” he hissed to the boy. “You’ll cut yourself.”

“It’d be faster if I helped,” Keigo said. “I’ll be super careful, I promise!”

“No,” Sako smoothly said. “This isn’t a job for children. Why don’t you go back to watching television?”

“I’m not a kid,” Keigo argued. “Okay, I’m five. But dad says I’m really mature for my age! So I can do grown-up things too!”

“Go.” Sako swatted Keigo away. “This is non-negotiable.”

Keigo pouted and watched the TV with a disgruntled look on his face. After Sako was finished cleaning up the glass, he began to pick up the other trash that resided in the apartment. Keigo watched him with observant eyes and Sako sighed dramatically.

“Yes, you may help if you wish.”

That got Keigo scattering to pick up as many cans and bottles as fast as he could, almost as if he was playing a game with himself. The child was so fast that he was cleaning up at an even faster rate than the leisurely slow pace Sako had set for himself.

“Too slow!” Keigo taunted Sako with a grin. “Looks like I win!”

There was never any game that had been decided in the first place. Sako wasn’t one to ruin a child’s moment of victory, however. Meanwhile, Takami slept peacefully in his chair, oblivious to the world and his son who noticeably deserved a much better father.

--

Sako was a man of many talents, and cooking just happened to be one of them.

Takami was nowhere to be seen (not unusual), but Sako found that he didn’t mind. His son was a much better companion, anyways.

The child seemed to be in quite a lot of awe at his slice and dice technique. It wasn’t magic; no, not in the slightest. Keigo was impressed nonetheless.

“All the pieces came out evenly!” Keigo noted. “Can I try?”

“No,” Sako said without skipping a beat. Keigo had been trying to use his wings to elevate himself to where he could reach the knife that he left on the cutting board on the counter top, so he used a hand to force the child back down to the floor.

“No fair,” Keigo whined. “I never get to do any of the grown-up stuff.”

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” Sako scolded Keigo. “Trust me when I say that doing ‘grown-up’ things isn’t as sensational as one would make it out to be.”

“Now, be a good child and wait in your seat.”

“You can’t make me,” Keigo said. “You’re not my dad.”

True, true.

“Yes, but I’m cooking for you out of my own hospitality. The least you can do is let me work my craft.” Then, Sako had an idea.

“Think of it like this: you don’t interrupt a magician when he’s performing on stage, do you?”

“...No,” Keigo said.

“Exactly!” Sako pointed to the seat on the couch. “After you, my valued audience member.”

Keigo was rather compliant after that, waiting by the couch but his eyes weren’t on the television. He watched Sako cook with curious eyes and an even more curious mouth if the questions that slipped out of the child were anything to go by.

Ah, the innocence of youth. How Sako missed it. Keigo was a good reminder of the children Sako used to perform for.

Keigo gaped when Sako set down the plates. “Nobody’s cooked ever since mom left.”

The little smile that came with the first bite warmed Sako’s heart. He was certainly no father by any means and he never planned on ever having a child; but Keigo made him wish that he had a son he could cook for, a son that he could perform tricks for and a son that he could live for.

“Thanks, Sako-san!” Keigo chirped, looking at Sako with such appreciation and admiration in his eyes that it almost hurt to watch. 

All he did was feed a child. Apparently, that was the world to Keigo more than anything his father might have done for him in months.

--

“You’re good with kids,” Takami said. “Real good.”

“Well, I’d hope that is the case,” Sako stated. “Considering my former occupation and whatnot.”

“It’s annoying,” Takami scoffed. “That kid constantly asks about you all the time now. It’s starting to grate on my nerves.”

Perhaps if you took better care of your son, he wouldn’t be asking for my company so much then, Sako thought. He always knew Takami had a bit of a reckless side to him, but he didn’t realize how irresponsible the man could be. Especially considering the man was in charge of a little boy now.

“What do you want me to do about it?” Sako sighed. “I can’t help what the boy wants, after all.”

“I want you to stop barging into my apartment unannounced,” Takami said. “It’s my house. I never gave you permission to come and go as you please. I thought you were supposed to be the polite one.”

“I wouldn’t need to barge into your apartment unannounced if you would just keep to your word about our meeting times,” Sako said. “Ever heard of the word ‘punctuality’? No, I’m guessing you haven’t.”

Takami growled--he growled as if he had a right to be mad about the bullshit Sako had called him out on--and he slammed the can of beer he had been drinking out of against the table. “That doesn’t give you the right to speak to my son!”

Oh, how things have escalated. This was a rather troublesome development, Sako had to admit. “If it bothers you so much,” Sako had to remind himself that Keigo is not his responsibility, “then I won’t talk to your son again. Though I ask of you to make a more conscious effort to meet with me at the times you prescribe me.”

“Deal,” Takami grunted. “Glad that’s done and over, then.” The man finished the can of beer in one swig.

--

Sako tried not to let himself think about Keigo.

Keigo wasn’t his son. He wasn’t his responsibility. Yet, there was this certain guilt that occupied Sako’s mind whenever he was even reminded of the boy’s existence. It was hard to go through an entire day without thinking about the fate of the winged boy.

So, one day, Sako asked, “How’s Keigo doing?” because it was a little suspicious how the man didn’t seem concerned in the slightest about returning home despite it having been hours since he was last home.

“Oh, that little bugger?” Takami grunted. “He’s out of my hands already.”

Sako froze. “Excuse me?”

“The government took him away,” Takami said. “Keigo went and saved this group o’ kids or something and apparently one of the agents saw that he had ‘potential’ in him to become a hero.”

“Him? A hero?” It wasn’t that Keigo didn’t have potential (oh, he most certainly had potential). It was that... well...

“Yeah, well,” Takami spat on the ground, “I signed their damn contract. It’s what his mom would’ve wanted, anyways.”

“And what will you do when the boy finds out about your true occupation?” Sako asked. “Does he even know?”

“Of course he doesn’t,” Takami said. “I’m not that stupid.”

Yes, what a stupid father Takami would be if he didn’t tell his own son what his real career was. Honestly, did the man even think twice before opening his mouth to speak?

“He’s better off in their hands,” Takami rationalized.”You saw what things were like when it was just us two, didn’t you?”

Yes, and then you pushed me away from your son, Sako bitterly thought. The man had no one to blame but himself for his irrational behavior. “I suppose you’re right.”

“He’ll get a real bed now,” Takami added. “And three meals a day. I bet he’s already forgotten all ‘bout me.”

They both knew that wasn’t true. Despite Takami’s misgivings, Keigo never stopped looking up to his father. Even Sako could tell how much the boy seemed to idolize Takami no matter how much Takami seemed to neglect his own son.

“Perhaps,” Sako muttered disdainfully.

--

Sako felt like an old man when he watched Keigo--no, Hawks-- all grown up and flashing these award-winning smiles at fans who recognized him.

It felt weird to call him Hawks.

No man lives by their stage name alone--that is a dangerous ideal that most performers steer clear of. Yet, it seemed that nobody else knew the man’s real name. How peculiar, indeed. Sako wondered if that was their doing.

Irrationally, he turned to a random civilian from the crowd. How daunting he must appear, being a supposed “leader” of this new huge organization to have approached a new recruit spontaneously.

“Would you like to see a trick?” Sako asked with as much charm as he could muster up. When they agreed, Sako pulled off a magnificent card trick that seemed to stun them into silence.

Someone else, who had been observing him perform the trick (oh dear, where did this crowd come from?) asked him, “How did you... do that?”

Sako didn’t even need to answer the question himself. Oh, how that once-young boy knew him and his antics too well. Even with his face covered, the name would of course undoubtedly have been a dead giveaway (if he was more careful in the past, he would have given out a fake one).

Right on cue, Hawks was there, saying, “Don’t you know how this works? A magician never reveals his secrets!”

He taught him well. Perhaps, a little too well.