Enough

Y/N stood in the shadow of the alley, her back pressed against the cold brick wall as she wiped her bloodied hands on the least-soiled part of her hoodie. She didn’t know how much time had passed since the incident, but the adrenaline was starting to fade, leaving her body heavy and aching. The street was quiet, too quiet, but the eerie stillness was broken by the unmistakable sound of flapping wings, growing louder with each passing second.

She lifted her head, her tired eyes narrowing as she saw the familiar figure of Hawks descending toward her with his usual grace. His wings shimmered in the dim light, and he landed with a soft thud, his smirk already forming on his lips.

"Miss Quirkless," he began, his voice laced with teasing. "Calling me for help? What happened? Break a nail?"

Y/N rolled her eyes, but the humor faded quickly as she took in the sight of him standing before her. Hawks might have been known for his laid-back attitude, but Y/N knew him well enough to see that something had shifted in his demeanor. His golden eyes scanned her from head to toe, his gaze quickly taking in her blood-soaked hands, her disheveled appearance, and the torn sleeve barely concealing the freshly healed wound on her arm. His usual smirk faltered, replaced by a flicker of concern that quickly turned into something unreadable.

“What the hell happened to you?” Hawks asked, his tone sharper now, his eyes narrowing as he took a step closer. “You look like you just crawled out of a war zone.”

Y/N immediately held up her good hand, a reflex to deflect any further scrutiny. “I’m fine,” she said quickly, her voice a little too forceful. “There was a villain attack.”

Hawks’s wings flared slightly, his posture tense as his eyes locked onto hers. “A villain attack?!” His voice was louder now, tinged with disbelief. “Where? Who—”

“I didn’t get a good look at them,” she interrupted, shaking her head as she stepped back from the wall. “It all happened so fast. But that’s not the point.” She exhaled, trying to push the nagging panic down into the pit of her stomach. “I need your help, Hawks.”

The tension between them seemed to thicken in the air. Y/N didn’t want to get into the details of what had actually happened—what had led her to this alley, bloodied and bruised. She didn’t want him asking questions that would lead to more explanations, to more complications. What mattered now was getting through the day, and for that, she needed him.

“I have the U.A. business college entrance exam today,” Y/N continued, her voice steady but edged with desperation. She gestured down at her bloodied hoodie, grimacing at the state she was in. “And I can’t exactly show up looking like…this.”

Hawks stared at her for a long, quiet moment. His usual cocky expression was gone, replaced by a hardness in his gaze as he surveyed her. His eyes flicked from her bloodied hands to the splatters on her hoodie, lingering for a moment too long. He was good at reading people, good at figuring out the unspoken details, and Y/N could almost feel him piecing things together in his head. But she didn’t want to think about that. Not now.

“You’re lucky you called me,” he finally said, his voice lowering to something more serious. The playful teasing was gone, replaced by a rare edge of concern. “This is bad, Y/N. If anyone sees you like this…”

“I know,” she said, cutting him off with a quiet urgency. Her eyes fell to the ground for a moment, her fingers curling into fists. “That’s why I called you.. I- I trust you” She paused before lifting her gaze back to him. “I can’t risk going back home, and I don’t have time to deal with this myself. Can you help me or not?”

Hawks sighed, a long exhale that carried a mix of frustration and resignation. He gave her a long look, his wings twitching slightly as though they were just as restless as he felt. Y/N watched him closely, feeling the tension coil tighter in her chest. She knew that if anyone could get her out of this mess, it was him.

After what felt like an eternity, his smirk returned, though it was softer this time, less teasing and more understanding. “Alright, alright,” he said, his voice lightening again. “I’ve got your back, Miss Quirkless. Let’s get you cleaned up and ready to ace that exam.” He extended his hand toward her, his wings folding behind him in a relaxed, almost casual manner. But then he raised a finger, a small glint of amusement in his eyes. “But,” he added, his voice taking on a more serious note, “you owe me a story later. Deal?”

Y/N hesitated, eyeing his outstretched hand. She didn’t want to owe him anything—not after everything. But what other choice did she have? She couldn’t keep running away from problems, couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t.

“Deal,” she muttered, already regretting the decision but knowing it was her only option. She forced a smile, though it felt more like a grimace, as she finally took his hand. The warmth of his touch was a small comfort, but the unease in her chest still gnawed at her.

“Good,” Hawks said with a nod, his usual playful tone returning as he gave her a once-over. “Let’s just hope this business school of yours is worth all this trouble.”

Y/N wasn’t sure what to make of his comment, but she didn’t have time to think about it. She was already on a tight schedule—her future was literally on the line today, and she couldn’t afford any more distractions. With a quick tug, Hawks led her toward the edge of the alley, his wings unfurling as they began to take off into the night sky.

As they soared into the air, Y/N couldn’t help but feel the weight of the moment. She was about to face the most important day of her life, and she had no idea how it would all turn out. Would she make it to the exam? Would she even pass? All she could do now was trust that Hawks would get her through this, even if she wasn’t sure what the cost would be.

In the end, it didn’t matter. She couldn’t afford to think about the future—only the exam, only the chance to prove herself. And with Hawks by her side, she had one less thing to worry about. For now, that would have to be enough.

Y/N sat in the quiet of a private room at U.A., the walls pale and unassuming, the air still and cool. The only sounds were the faint hum of the fluorescent lights overhead, the occasional shuffle of paper, and the soft scrape of her pen as it moved across the business entrance exam papers in front of her. She was wearing Hawks’ jacket, the oversized fabric draped awkwardly over her frame. The jacket's scent of citrus and wood lingered faintly in the air, an odd comfort, but Y/N made an effort to ignore it. Her mind was too occupied with other things. Things she didn’t want to think about.

The events of the morning felt like they had happened days ago, the adrenaline having long since drained from her body, leaving behind only exhaustion. Her arms still ached from the injury she had healed on the way to U.A before Hawks., and her mind kept wandering back to the encounter with Hawks. The sight of him swooping in to help her, his teasing tone lightening the mood even in the midst of the chaos, had been something she hadn’t expected. It was strange, that small sense of reassurance he’d given her. Hawks was unpredictable, and his help had been no less so, but in that moment, she’d taken comfort in his presence. Still, she couldn’t shake the strange feeling in her gut as she sat now in this sterile room, her future hanging on what she had just written down.

The door clicked open, and the sound of footsteps followed. Y/N didn’t need to look up to know who it was. Nezu, the principal of U.A., entered with a quiet grace, his small stature making his presence all the more commanding. He walked slowly across the room, the delicate porcelain cup of tea in his hands, his sharp, black eyes studying her with an unsettling, yet oddly reassuring calm.

“Are you comfortable, Miss L/N?” Nezu’s voice broke the silence, polite yet filled with a touch of curiosity.

Y/N straightened in her seat, feeling the jacket slip further down her shoulders as she adjusted herself. “Yes, thank you,” she replied, her voice a little more strained than she intended. The jacket, too large for her, seemed to only amplify the feeling of discomfort. But she was here to focus, to show that she was more than just a girl with no quirk, and she wasn’t about to let anything distract her.

Nezu tilted his head slightly, his beady eyes scrutinizing her. “Good,” he said, his tone measured. “Take your time, and do your best. I’ll be here if you have any questions.”

Y/N nodded, grateful for the space to think. The last thing she needed was more pressure. She shifted in her seat, briefly glancing at the exam papers in front of her. The first question was about business theory, something she had studied countless times during her preparation. The pressure of the moment gnawed at her, but she ignored it, gripping the pen tightly and beginning to write.

Her mind focused, and she lost herself in the rhythm of the exam. It was challenging, of course—business theory, financial strategies, and practical applications were all difficult subjects to master, especially with the added weight of today’s circumstances—but she pushed through, the words flowing from her pen despite the occasional tremor in her hand. The silence in the room, while serene, was almost suffocating. Nezu’s quiet presence across from her only made her feel more aware of his watchful eyes, but she forced herself not to think about it. He wasn’t here to judge; he was simply observing, something she could deal with. 

She glanced at the clock. Time seemed to move both slowly and too quickly at once. Hours passed in relative silence, broken only by the occasional scratch of her pencil against the paper, the sound of Nezu sipping tea. His movements were deliberate, slow, as if savoring each sip, but Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that he was watching her every move. His sharp eyes flicked between her answers and the papers she had yet to fill out. For some reason, it felt like more than just an exam. She couldn’t help but wonder what Nezu saw when he looked at her. Was he just analyzing her performance? Or was he, perhaps, measuring her potential?

Her hand began to cramp as the hours dragged on, her wrist stiff from the constant motion. She tried to push past the discomfort, but it was hard to ignore. She had to finish—there was no option but to complete the exam, no room for failure. When she finally placed the pencil down, there was a small sigh of relief, a quiet release of tension. She leaned back in the chair, stretching her fingers and rolling her shoulders in an attempt to shake off the stiffness that had settled in her body. The room felt colder now, and the weight of the exam’s finality hung in the air like a heavy fog.

Nezu placed his teacup gently on its saucer, his sharp gaze never leaving her. There was no smile, no indication of approval or disapproval, but he gave her a small nod, his tone calm and measured. “Well done, Miss L/N,” he said, his voice softer now. “I’ll review your answers, but from what I observed, you approached the exam with confidence and diligence. Regardless of the results, you should be proud of your effort.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by his words. It wasn’t that she hadn’t expected praise, but there was something about the way he said it that felt different. There was no sarcasm, no dismissive tone, only quiet acknowledgment. She felt her heart skip a beat as she nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips despite herself. “Thank you,” she said quietly, the exhaustion weighing on her voice but mixing with a flicker of relief.

Nezu began gathering the exam papers, his movements slow and deliberate as he prepared to leave. Y/N remained still, allowing herself a few moments to collect her thoughts before standing. She glanced down at the oversized jacket once more. Hawks’ jacket was warm, comforting, but it also felt like a reminder of how strange her morning had been—how much had changed in such a short amount of time. She had been fighting not just villains but her own doubts, her own insecurities, and she had made it here, to this moment. 

Outside the door, she could hear muffled voices. One of them unmistakably belonged to Hawks. She could almost hear the playful edge in his voice as he teased her, probably about how serious she had looked during the exam. Despite everything, the thought of his teasing made her smile, though she was quick to suppress it. She couldn’t afford to lose focus now.

“Miss L/N,” Nezu’s voice snapped her back to reality. “Before you go, I’d like to say I appreciate your determination. It’s not every day someone with your… circumstances applies to U.A. Business College.” He paused, his gaze sharp as he studied her. “I look forward to seeing how you’ll contribute to our community.”

Y/N froze, unsure of what Nezu meant by “circumstances.” His words felt like they carried weight, like he knew more about her than she had expected. Was he hinting at something? Or was he simply referring to her lack of a quirk? She swallowed, not wanting to overthink it. “Thank you, Principal Nezu,” she said, her voice steady despite the confusion swirling in her mind.

With that, she stood, adjusting the jacket once more around her shoulders, the fabric slipping a little too far down her arms. As she made her way to the door, a quiet determination settled in her chest. Whatever was waiting for her outside, whether it was Hawks’ endless teasing or the next challenge, she was ready. She was one step closer to her goal, no matter how many obstacles lay ahead.

Y/N stepped out of the private exam room, the door clicking shut softly behind her. The low hum of the fluorescent lights in the hallway seemed louder now that she was outside the quiet room, but the sounds of the busy school day filtered in from further down the hall. Just as she expected, Hawks was waiting for her. He leaned casually against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. The moment he saw her, a playful glint appeared in his amber eyes, and he pushed himself off the wall with an exaggerated stretch.

“Well, Miss Quirkless,” he greeted with his usual teasing lilt, “how’d it go? You didn’t pass out or set anything on fire, did you?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, the jacket hanging loosely around her shoulders feeling far too big for her. She tugged it tighter, both to fend off the slight chill in the air and to avoid the embarrassment of wearing something so clearly not her size. “It went fine,” she replied in a flat tone, brushing past him without making eye contact.

Hawks wasn’t about to let her escape that easily. He easily fell into step beside her, his usual swagger evident in the way he walked, wings folded neatly behind him. “Fine, huh? You don’t sound very confident. Maybe I should’ve been your tutor, though I’m more of a heroic speeches kind of guy than a business guru.” He tilted his head, smirking at her, clearly enjoying the moment. “Speaking of which, why the business school? You’re not planning on running a coffee empire, are you?”

Y/N stopped in her tracks, a jolt of irritation coursing through her. She spun to face him, her expression sharp. “Why not the business school?” she asked, her voice colder than she intended. “I have no interest in being a hero, unlike half the population of this city.” Her eyes narrowed. She didn’t know why it bothered her so much, but his question felt dismissive, as though she didn’t belong in a world where people with powers dominated the headlines. Heroes were everywhere, and she wasn’t one of them. She was just... her. 

Hawks chuckled, a rich sound that seemed to fill the hallway. He raised his hands in mock surrender, the smile never leaving his face. “Fair enough, Miss Quirkless. But I’ve gotta say, you don’t strike me as the pencil-pushing type. Just curious, that’s all.” The teasing edge in his voice softened for a moment, his expression turning more thoughtful. “You sure about this?” he asked, his voice quiet, genuine even.

Y/N hesitated, the anger and irritation draining from her as exhaustion settled in. Her shoulders slumped, and she exhaled slowly, trying to push down the feeling that had been gnawing at her since she’d stepped into the exam room. “I’m sure,” she muttered, her voice quiet. It wasn’t like she’d had much of a choice. This was the path she’d chosen for herself, and despite the unease that lingered in her chest, it was the one she needed to follow. She wasn’t going to let herself back out now. 

“Now, can you please help me get out of here?” she asked, her voice tinged with frustration. “I don’t want anyone to see me like this.” She gestured vaguely at the oversized jacket, her hair slightly messy, and the general disheveled state she was in. The last thing she wanted was attention right now. 

Hawks raised an eyebrow, as if he were about to make some playful comment, but the look in her eyes must have told him something was off. His wings shifted slightly, and he nodded. “Alright, alright. I’ll be your chauffeur, but only because you’ve had a rough day.” He grinned at her, showing that trademark cocky smile, though there was a softness to it. “This way, then. I’ll make sure no one sees you. Not that anyone would mind seeing you wearing my jacket, of course.”

Y/N shot him a withering look, her irritation flaring again, but it only made him laugh. She wasn’t in the mood to banter, though it was hard to ignore the ease with which he carried himself, the carefree attitude that she wished she could mirror right now. She just wanted to get out of there, to avoid the looks she knew would follow if people saw her in her current state.

As they walked through the hallways, the sounds of students in the classrooms and in the corridors faded into the background. Y/N pulled out her phone, hoping the distraction would help her shake off the lingering discomfort. But the moment she unlocked the screen, her stomach sank. Dozens of notifications from Izuku stared back at her, each one a reminder of the promise she’d broken earlier. She hadn’t been able to make it to the meeting point before the exam; she’d gotten caught up in everything, lost track of time, and now she was faced with the consequences. 

Each message felt like a weight in her chest:

“Hey, are you okay? You’re not answering.”

“Did something happen?”

“I’m waiting where we said. Let me know if you’re still coming.”

“Y/N??”

Her heart twisted painfully in her chest as guilt surged through her. She clenched the phone tightly in her hand, stopping mid-step as a wave of regret flooded her. Izuku had been worried, and she hadn’t even bothered to explain why she was late, let alone why she hadn’t shown up at all. She had completely lost track of time, and now he was waiting for her, possibly feeling confused or upset. 

Hawks noticed her sudden pause and turned his head to glance over his shoulder. His usual teasing smile had faded, replaced by a more thoughtful look. “Something wrong?” he asked, his voice more subdued now, a hint of concern slipping through his usual playful tone.

Y/N swallowed hard, her throat tight. She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak just yet. “Nothing,” she muttered, stuffing her phone back into her bag before he could see the messages. “Let’s just get out of here.”

Hawks didn’t press her, though the look in his eyes said he noticed her change in demeanor. He didn’t say anything more, but his wings stretched slightly, the feathers ruffling as he turned and gestured ahead of them. “Alright, then. Let’s fly, Miss Quirkless. Time’s wasting.”

Y/N nodded, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She stepped forward, letting him take the lead as he guided her toward the exit. But even as they moved through the halls and out of the building, her mind remained fixated on Izuku’s texts. She’d have to explain herself later, but the guilt weighed heavily on her. She hoped he wouldn’t be too upset when she did.

Hawks led her outside and spread his wings wide, ready to lift them into the air. The world beyond the walls of U.A. was waiting for her, but for the moment, it felt like she was stuck in this limbo, between what she had promised and what had happened. No matter how fast they flew, the anxiety would linger until she had the chance to face the consequences.

Izuku winced as Recovery Girl worked her healing magic on his broken fingers, the tingling sensation easing the pain, but it did little to calm the storm brewing in his mind. The pain in his hands had become secondary to the gnawing anxiety in his chest. He had just finished the exam, and the physical ache was nothing compared to the weight of the worry pressing down on him. His phone lay beside him on the infirmary bed, its screen dark, the silence mocking him as he waited, still hoping for a response.

Y/N had yet to answer any of his messages. Not one. His thumb hovered over the screen again, but he couldn’t bring himself to check it. The blank screen felt like an omen, and the longer the silence stretched on, the more it gnawed at him.

Maybe something happened, he thought, his chest tightening in a familiar, anxious knot. He had sent her multiple texts, the last one just before the exam started, promising he’d meet her afterward to catch up. But now, with the exam over and the hours stretching by, there had been no response.

Did she change her mind about meeting up? he wondered, the thought bitter in his mouth. It didn’t make sense—Y/N had always been so reliable, so steady. They had always supported each other. But now... now, there was nothing.

Did she even take the exam? Izuku’s heart lurched at the thought. He couldn’t imagine that Y/N wouldn’t show up, not after everything they had been through together. She was always strong, always determined, even when the world seemed to have turned its back on her. But the longer the silence stretched, the more that small doubt crept in. What if she decided it wasn’t worth it? What if—

The thought hit him suddenly and with such force that it took his breath away.

Maybe she doesn’t want to be friends anymore. Maybe she’s moved on.

His heart dropped into his stomach. The idea was so foreign, so unbearable, that he couldn’t shake it. They had always been there for each other, through thick and thin. Y/N had been the one person who never judged him for being quirkless. When everyone else had ignored him or treated him like he didn’t matter, she had stayed by his side. She had been his anchor, the one who always reminded him that his worth wasn’t tied to his lack of a quirk.

But now, the silence felt deafening. He had thought about her constantly over the past few days, wondering how she was doing, if she was okay, but there was nothing. No messages. No calls. Nothing.

Izuku sat up suddenly, the movement jerky, his fingers aching with the effort, and Recovery Girl immediately scolded him.

“Sit down, young man! You’ve already broken enough bones for one day,” she said sharply, but when she saw the distress in his face, her tone softened. “Now, what’s got you so wound up? You should be proud of yourself for making it through the exam.”

He didn’t respond immediately, instead staring blankly ahead. The words didn’t quite register, and when they did, they felt distant, like they belonged to someone else. He gave a distracted nod, muttering a quiet, “Thank you,” but his mind was elsewhere. It wasn’t the exam that troubled him, not really. It was the nagging worry that something was wrong. Something was always wrong when Y/N went silent. She had always been the one who checked in on him, who encouraged him even when he thought he couldn’t go on. And now…

Maybe she doesn’t care anymore.

The thought pained him more than anything. His chest felt heavy, as if a weight were pressing down on him, threatening to crush him. He could still remember the times when she stood up for him, when no one else did.

He clenched his fists involuntarily, the movement reminding him of the pain in his fingers. The memory of her taking the brunt of Kacchan’s explosive temper for him flashed before his eyes. Y/N had always been so brave. She had never hesitated to protect him, even when it seemed like everyone else was against him. She didn’t deserve any of it—not the teasing, not the bullying. And yet, she’d endured it without complaint.

When her father had pulled her out of school, forcing her into online classes, it had felt like he’d lost her. He had tried to stay in touch, but it wasn’t the same. He couldn’t see her face, hear her voice as much as he needed to. It had been a lonely time for him, but she hadn’t abandoned him. She kept texting him, encouraging him, reminding him to keep going, to keep chasing his dream. She had been his constant, the one person who truly believed in him.

But now… now she was silent.

Izuku stared at his phone again, willing it to ring, to buzz with a new message, but nothing happened. His thoughts spiraled in a chaotic loop, each one darker than the last. Did I do something wrong? He thought back to their last conversation, trying to pinpoint anything that could have upset her. Had he said something careless? Had he acted in a way that pushed her away? He couldn’t remember anything, but the doubts gnawed at him nonetheless.

What if she’s in trouble? The thought hit him hard, and a fresh wave of panic gripped him. What if something had happened to her? What if she’d gotten hurt? What if—

“Midoriya!” Recovery Girl’s sharp voice sliced through the haze of his thoughts, and he blinked, shaking his head as though trying to clear it. She had placed a hand on his shoulder, her kind eyes filled with concern.

“Whatever’s going on, you need to calm down. Worrying yourself sick won’t help anyone,” she said gently, though there was a firm edge to her voice.

Izuku took a shaky breath, nodding, but it did little to calm the storm in his chest. “Y-You’re right,” he mumbled, his voice unsteady. He tried to relax, to follow her instructions, but his heart refused to listen.

As Recovery Girl finished patching him up, Izuku made a silent vow to himself. If something had happened to Y/N, he would find out. He wouldn’t let her slip away, not again. He wouldn’t lose the one person who had always been there for him.

Even as he forced himself to lie back and rest, his mind stayed on her. Y/N was the only true friend he had ever had. The thought of losing her, of her walking away from him, was unbearable. But the idea of her being in danger, of her being hurt and alone, was even worse.

Please be okay, Y/N, he thought desperately, gripping his phone tightly in his hand. Please, just be okay.

Kai’s fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white as he paced back and forth in his room, the anger coursing through him like an uncontrollable storm. His mind was spinning, his thoughts trapped in an endless loop that brought him no relief. Y/N had left. Gone. Without a glance back.

UA. The words echoed in his head, each repetition a reminder of the betrayal that cut deeper than any wound. She had chosen them—the heroes, the people who didn’t understand her, didn’t care about her the way he did. She had chosen that damn school over him, over everything they had. The thought made his chest tighten, his blood boiling with each passing second.

She’s choosing them over me, he thought bitterly. His hands trembled, his fists tightening until his nails dug into his palms. He could feel his blood pressure rising with each step, with each thought that twisted inside him. She had turned her back on him—the one person who had always been there for her. The one person who truly cared.

Kai’s jaw clenched, his teeth grinding together as the memories of their time together rushed back, unbidden and painful. He had protected her, always. She had been his light, his reason for fighting, even when everything else seemed meaningless. And now, she was walking away. For what? To chase a dream that didn’t involve him, to surround herself with strangers who would never understand the bond they shared. The thought of her among those heroes, the so-called “rats,” made his stomach churn.

She doesn’t even realize what she’s throwing away, he thought, the anger growing, consuming him. She’s turning her back on everything we’ve built. Everything I’ve done for her.

His hand shot out, slamming into the wall with a force that made the drywall crack under his fist. The sound was deafening, but it did nothing to dull the raw, unrelenting fury that raged inside him. His breath came in sharp, ragged gasps, the room feeling smaller, suffocating, as the intensity of his emotions threatened to overwhelm him.

I’ve done everything for her, he thought, his mind spiraling further into frustration. I’ve sacrificed everything for her. And this is how she repays me?

His heart pounded in his chest as he thought of the moments leading up to her departure. She had left without even letting him check on her arm, without giving him the chance to make sure she was okay. She had run from him, from the one person who would never abandon her.

A heavy, sinking feeling settled in his chest as the realization began to settle in, like a dark cloud hanging over him. She had chosen to leave him. She doesn’t need me anymore.

The words felt like they were suffocating him, like they were wrapped around his throat, tightening with every passing second. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think clearly. All he could focus on was the hollow, empty feeling that was starting to spread inside him. The truth was unbearable.

But then… The thought hit him with the force of a physical blow, one that left him breathless, disoriented. She’s not just my sister. I’ve always loved her.

His breath caught in his throat as the weight of the realization crashed down on him. His mind flashed to the memories of their childhood, back when things had been simpler, when they had been just two kids living in a world that hadn’t yet become so dark, so twisted. She had been his constant then, the one person who never looked at him with fear or judgment.

She had been everything to him, and the thought of losing her now… it was unbearable. He had spent so long keeping her close, protecting her from the world—protecting her from himself. He had always believed that he could keep her safe, that no one could ever hurt her as long as he was around. He had failed her in so many ways, but he never imagined she would walk away.

She’s mine, the thought came like a fierce, primal growl, a conviction that surged through him with all the force of a tidal wave. She’s mine. She belongs with me. No one else will ever understand her like I do. No one will ever protect her like I can.

His hands balled into fists once more, nails biting into his palms as his mind raced. His breath was coming in shallow gasps now, the anger turning into something more dangerous—something darker. He couldn’t just let her go. He wouldn’t.

The thought of her out there, surrounded by people who couldn’t see her the way he did, who would never protect her the way he had, made his blood run cold. They wouldn’t understand her. They wouldn’t know how to keep her safe. They didn’t deserve her.

He couldn’t just sit by and let her slip away. He wouldn’t allow it. If he had to burn everything to the ground to get her back, to make her see that she was meant to be with him, he would.

He would make her see the truth. He would make her understand that she couldn’t run from him, from everything they had. He couldn’t lose her—not now, not ever.

His chest heaved as his mind raced with darker thoughts, but beneath the rage, beneath the desperation, there was something else—something deeper. A burning need, an insatiable hunger to reclaim what was his.

I’ll get her back, he thought with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. I’ll make her see. She belongs with me. She’s mine. And I’ll never let her go.

His hands tightened once again, the pain in his fists a small, distant thing compared to the torment inside him. His mind raced with plans, with schemes, with everything he could do to make sure she came back to him.

Because there was no world in which he would let her go. Not when she had been the only light in his dark, twisted world. He had always loved her, and he would make her understand that she could never escape him.

She was his, and he would burn everything to the ground to keep her.

Y/N leaned against the cool brick wall of the alley, staring down at the bloodstains on her clothes, her heart racing with a mix of emotions she couldn’t quite place. The exams were over, Hawks jacket was returned, and everything had happened so fast—too fast. Her mind was still spinning, trying to make sense of it all, but she was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. The only thing she wanted now was to be left alone.

Except, Hawks wasn’t the type of person to let her hide away for long. 

She could feel his presence behind her, the familiar weight of his eyes on her as he stood in front of her, his wings unfurled slightly as if ready to shield her from anything or anyone who might pose a threat. His golden eyes flicked over her body, and she could tell he was taking in every detail—the blood on her clothes, the way she was standing, the subtle but unmistakable signs of exhaustion that clung to her.

“Alright,” she said, her voice calm but firm, trying to mask the vulnerability she felt. “You can go now. I’ll be fine.”

There was a brief silence before Hawks spoke, his voice laced with that familiar, teasing tone that always irritated her when it came at the wrong time. “Not a chance, Miss Quirkless. I didn’t fly you all the way here just to leave you in some sketchy alley.”

Y/N’s fingers tightened around the strap of her bag, her frustration mounting. She didn’t want to deal with him right now. She didn’t want to deal with anyone, to be honest. She just wanted to forget what had happened, forget the confrontation with her brother, forget the pain, and maybe for just a moment, forget everything that had led her to this point.

“I’m serious, Hawks,” she said, turning her head to the side, her voice quieter now. “Just… go. I don’t need a babysitter.”

But Hawks wasn’t one to listen to reason, not when it came to Y/N. He crossed his arms and stepped a little closer, his eyes narrowing slightly, the familiar intensity in his gaze never wavering. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?” he said, his tone losing its humor. “I’ve seen people after villain attacks, and this—” He gestured vaguely to the bloodstains on her clothes, the signs of a fight that went deeper than just a mugging. “—doesn’t look like your run-of-the-mill mugging. So why don’t you tell me what really happened?”

Her jaw tightened at the words, and she tried her hardest to avoid looking him in the eye. She hated how perceptive he was, how easily he could see through her tough exterior. The last thing she wanted was to explain what had happened—what her brother had done.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, trying to sound indifferent, though the words felt hollow even as they left her mouth.

Hawks didn’t budge, his sharp eyes still focused on her, and he took another step closer. “It matters if someone’s out there targeting you. Was it even a villain?” His voice softened just a little, but there was an undeniable edge of concern beneath the sarcasm.

Y/N felt her chest tighten. She didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to admit what had happened, but she knew Hawks wasn’t going to let it go. She hated the way he could get under her skin, the way he always pushed her to confront things she wasn’t ready to face. Slowly, she shook her head.

“No,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. She hated the vulnerability in her own voice, hated how weak it made her sound. 

Hawks’ eyes flickered with a mix of disbelief and concern. “Then who?” he asked, his voice low. “You don’t just end up like this for no reason, Y/N.”

Y/N hesitated, her fingers brushing absentmindedly against her arm, the skin now fully healed. The memory of the pain, of her brother’s furious grip, was still fresh in her mind. Her mind raced with conflicting thoughts. She didn’t want to say it out loud. She didn’t want to admit what had happened, to relive that moment. But she knew Hawks wasn’t going to stop until she told him.

“It was my brother,” she muttered, barely able to hear her own words. The silence that followed her confession was almost suffocating.

Hawks blinked, his brows furrowing in confusion. “Your brother?” he repeated, as though testing the words, unsure whether he had heard her correctly. “What the hell kind of family reunion was that?”

Y/N let out a dry, humorless laugh, her shoulders sagging with exhaustion. “The kind where you don’t talk about it afterward,” she said, her voice laced with bitterness.

Hawks studied her for a moment, his golden eyes searching her face, trying to find answers she wasn’t willing to give. He could see the way she avoided looking at him, how her body language screamed that she was trying to distance herself from the conversation. She wasn’t just physically drained—he could feel the emotional toll it was taking on her, the weight of the situation settling in her bones.

“You’re not staying here,” he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Y/N snapped her head up, narrowing her eyes at him. “Hawks—”

“Nope,” he interrupted, cutting her off with a raised hand. “Not happening. If your brother—” he said the word with clear skepticism, “—is the one doing this, then you’re definitely not safe here. So, we’re going somewhere else. You can argue all you want, but I’m not leaving you in this alley, and that’s final.”

Y/N groaned, frustration bubbling up inside her. She rubbed her temples, trying to force the headache away. Hawks’ stubbornness was unbearable at times. She had wanted to deal with this on her own, without anyone prying into her life. But no, Hawks had to swoop in and make everything more complicated.

“You don’t get it,” she muttered, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to keep it steady.

Hawks softened his tone, stepping closer to her again. “Then make me get it,” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle for once, though still persistent.

Y/N clenched her fists, the memories of Kai’s rage rushing back, the violent grip on her arm, the raw pain. She didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to face it. But she also knew Hawks wasn’t going to drop it. He cared too much to let her go through this alone.

Instead of answering, she turned her head away, her gaze falling on the dark alley ahead of them. “You’re annoying,” she muttered under her breath.

Hawks chuckled softly, the sound warm and familiar. “Yeah, I get that a lot,” he said, his teasing tone slipping back into place.

For a moment, the two of them stood in silence, the weight of their conversation lingering in the air. Finally, Y/N let out a sigh, her shoulders slumping as she rubbed her temples once more.

“Fine,” she said with a reluctant nod. “Take me wherever you want. Just… don’t make a big deal out of it, okay?”

Hawks smiled, his usual mischievous glint returning to his eyes. “Deal. But don’t think I’m letting this brother thing slide. We’ll circle back to that.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath as Hawks crouched down, motioning for her to climb onto his back. “I should’ve just stayed in the alley.”

“Too late now, Miss Quirkless,” Hawks said with a grin, his wings unfurling as he took to the sky. “Hold on tight.”

As they soared into the night sky, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a strange mixture of annoyance and relief. She was still furious with him for pushing so hard, but for all his teasing and insistence, Hawks had a way of making her feel like she wasn’t completely alone. Even when she wanted to be.