☆.｡.:* Centrifuge - Ch. 1 | Keigo Takami | Word Count: 3.6k
Pro Hero!Hawks x Pro Hero!Reader | Arranged Marriage!Platonic!Pro Hero!Touya x Pro Hero!Reader warnings/tags | 18+, friends to enemies/rivals to lovers, reader was raised by the commission, fem reader, angst, hurt/no comfort, reader has a quirk, quirk marriage, arranged marriage, hpsc is evil af, sexism, negative self talk, suggestive content, sexual content, language
next
What was it all for? You can still remember the way the blood roared in your ears when the news broke. No one at the Commission had even bothered to tell you. If you hadn’t been avoiding the news like the plague, you would’ve found out with the rest of the world, announced live at a Todoroki Family press conference.
#4 Pro Hero Blue Flame announces engagement to #15 Pro Hero [Hero Name]. If it wasn’t for Keigo, you wouldn’t have heard anything about it at all until work the next morning, which was likely the idea.
“Is it true?” That’s all his text said, sent with a link to a news article no more than 10 minutes old. You hadn’t responded to him; you rarely did. He’d already taken everything else from you. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of being the one to tell you the Commission had pawned you off.
You knew it was true. Whether the public knew it or not, Quirk Marriages were alive and well, though these days orchestrated behind closed doors by the HPSC and their extensive legal team.
“Non-negotiable,” is what Madame President had said the following day. You sat in her office, gaping up at a stack of documentation a mile high. Details of the arrangement: how you would be conducting yourself in public, timeline of the marriage. Hundreds of pages of paperwork, all signed on your behalf.
Usually, this kind of thing required explicit consent between both parties. Thankfully, the Commission basically owned you—it saved you the trouble.
You were shocked that Touya had gone along with the whole thing. With the amount of support gear he needed to regulate his quirk, you’d have thought his whole existence would have been a lesson on the consequences of Quirk Marriages. Your vision blurred at the edges as the President read you the terms of the agreement.
The two of you would have a 6-month-long publicity engagement, posing as a real couple. You would do a press circuit starting that next week. The Commission and the Todoroki Agency had drafted answers to common questions that the two of you might be asked, to be practiced immediately. You batted them back and forth with Mera like studying for a test.
“How did you two meet?” At a Hero Gala.
Remember to smile.
“How long have you two been dating?” 2 years, ever since [Hero name] went pro.
Non-negotiable.
“Why did you hide your relationship from the public?” So we could both focus on our hero careers.
Give him a kiss, you’re supposed to like each other!
“How did you manage to keep it a secret for this long?” With a lot of help~
Non-negotiable.
“Why take your relationship public now?” Now that we’re both established pros, it’s time to focus on each other.
So what was it all for? 18 years of your life, stolen away by the Commission, trained to be a weapon. Overshadowed in less than an instant by Hawks. The golden boy. Raised alongside him, taught to hate him, forced to watch him become everything they promised you would be. Everything you withstood, in the end to be discarded. From a prodigy for the HPSC to a playmate for Hawks to a prop for Touya.
Demoted.
It was all for nothing.
Touya was okay once you met him. He wasn’t the purity-obsessed sex freak you had assumed he’d be from the whole arrangement—it was clear he was just as excited about the marriage as you were (which is to say not at all). You had the sense Touya could have pushed back if he wanted, from the stubborn, heated way he dealt with his family and publicity team.
He never acknowledged it, but you suspected he had kept quiet for your sake. You could see it on his face, the way he read between the lines of the HPSC’s bullshit. You both understood that the consequences for you if he rejected the union, whatever they may be, would be far worse than a loveless marriage. That alone was kind enough. That, and the way he would squeeze your hand, just once, before each interview, muttering, ‘You’re okay’.
The first few days of the ordeal, the two of you attended meetings together, sat side by side in silence. Not speaking and not spoken to as you both watched Enji and the HPSC debate the rest of your lives. It was easy to glean that the whole thing had been his father's idea.
Something about Touya’s public image. He was strong and successful, but the media painted him as cocky, defiant—a vigilante as opposed to a hero. In short, unlikable. Enji attributed his plateau as the number four hero to bad press, which is where you came in.
You would help Touya come off as likable, relatable. Romantic. Fan service. And once that was successful, once his image was stable, you would have kids. Ones that would hopefully be born with the ability to regulate themselves in a way that Touya couldn’t. Good old-fashioned eugenics. Neither of you spoke about that part, silently agreeing that it would be better not to think about it.
At least you were still allowed to work. The only thing you had been allowed to keep. Work was a saving grace, the best part of your bleak life—something you never thought you’d say. It was the only thing keeping you sane, the only thing left in your life that you had worked for. And, it kept you busy, away from your face on the tabloids and your voice on the television.
Away from the lonely home you now shared with Touya, the one that the Commission had moved all of your things into less than 24 hours after the engagement was announced.
Work, however, came with one downside: Keigo Takami. It didn’t matter that you worked at different agencies. It didn’t matter that he was at least a dozen ranks ahead of you. No matter how hard you tried, with your conjoined past, you couldn’t escape the man. Constantly paired up together on missions, and not just by the HPSC. Every hero in Kamino Ward saw you as something akin to his sidekick, drafting him for assignments with the implication you wouldn’t be far behind.
Today was no such exception—though at first you’d thought you had managed to evade him. Sat between Mount Lady and Kamui Woods, you nervously eyed the empty seat across the room, counting down every minute until Best Jeanist cleared his throat and began the meeting.
The sweet relief lasted only a few moments before Hawks sauntered in, equal parts late and unbothered, a steaming cup of to-go coffee in hand from the cafe up the street.
“No, no, don’t let me interrupt.” He waved his hand dismissively at the stern expression on Best Jeanist’s face. Keigo's eyes flicked to Kamui in the chair beside you before pulling out the only empty seat left. The metal made a loud screeching sound across the floor, punctuating the awkward silence that had settled over the group, but Keigo didn’t seem to notice.
“As I was saying…” Best Jeanist resumed his thought with one last searing glance in Hawks’ direction. Keigo’s seat was directly across from you, and he waved enthusiastically in your direction, trying to get your attention. You snapped your head to the left, eyes now glued to Best Jeanist, doing your best to ignore Keigo entirely.
He eventually gave up, if only for a moment, turning his attention ahead with his feet kicked up on the table. What a piece of work.
The meeting was dry. A strategic planning session to hash out responsibilities for an upcoming raid on an illegal support technology facility. You were used to being brought in on stuff like this. Your thermal regulation quirk often made you an easy failsafe when handling or moving experimental weapons.
All night, Keigo’s golden eyes returned to you, piercing, relentless, catching yours any time you looked even a little bit forward. You could tell he’d noticed you avoiding him more aggressively than normal.
Your stuff was shoved into your bag within seconds of the meeting concluding, desperate to avoid Keigo at all costs. You jumped out of your chair with such force that you nearly slammed into Kamui Woods, who had been making small talk with Mount Lady.
“Shit, sorry, Kamui.”
“Off in a hurry to see her fiancé, I bet.” Mount Lady teased, waggling her eyebrows obscenely.
“Hah, yeah. You know.” You laughed, distracted, not fully registering her words as you scanned the room for Keigo. He’d been pulled into a conversation with Best Jeanist. From the taller blonde’s expression, you guessed Keigo was being scolded for arriving late again. The winged man’s eyes were still on you, whatever Best Jeanist was saying in one ear and out the other.
“That’s right, [y/n], I just heard about your engagement. Congratulations.” Kamui Woods earnestly patted your shoulder with a branched hand, and you did your best to muster a smile.
“You just heard about it? It’s been all over the news for like, two months! What, do you live under a rock? Under a tree?” Mount Lady chastised him, playfully smacking his shoulder. The front the Commission had bestowed upon you wasn’t just something you had to keep up for news outlets and civilians.
Everyone needed to think your relationship with Touya was genuine, including your fellow heroes. The whole point was to make Touya more relatable and favorable in the media’s eyes, and Quirk Marriages were neither of those things. The only person who knew the truth was Keigo, and only because the Commission had its claws in him just as deep.
“I pride myself on my limited screen time.” Kamui shot back, deadly serious in a way that would have made you laugh if you didn’t feel so sick to your stomach.
“It’s all anyone’s been talking about!” Mount Lady turned to you, nearly bouncing at the chance to talk about it with you, “I don’t blame them either. Touya is a total catch. I can’t believe you guys managed to keep it a secret for so long! I never would have guessed that you two would end up together.”
She blabbed on over the ringing in your ears, about how lucky you were, how much money the Todorokis had, how she would kill to be you, talking at you, through you. Your eyes locked on Keigo’s, finally. His gaze hadn’t left you all night, and as suspected, he was intently eavesdropping on the conversation you were enduring with a disapproving look.
His disgusted expression sent you over the edge. You waved your hands weakly to excuse yourself from the conversation, “I’m sorry, I’m not feeling very well,” before turning tail and practically sprinting out of the conference room.
“See, you scared her off.” You heard Kamui Woods scold Mount Lady behind you. As the door swung shut, the lump in your throat grew so large you feared you might choke.
You would have felt bad cutting them off if they were your friends in any way, but that was likely the most you had talked to them outside of Hero work in the three years you’d known them. None of them had ever shown any interest in hearing about your life before.
The only interesting thing about you was him.
You pressed the down arrow at the entrance of the elevator again and again, more than aware that Keigo would be right behind you. It dinged open and you hurried in, frantically clicking the close button.
As the elevator doors slid closed, you let out a stuttered sigh and slumped against the wall. A ding sounded out from the elevator, but you hadn’t registered it moving. You noticed the red feather that had wormed its way between the doors too late, unable to fully register that you had begun to cry. Silent tears streamed down your face, and you rubbed them away frantically with the back of your hands.
The doors slid back open, and Keigo practically floated between them, oozing that perpetual nonchalance. As if he hadn’t practically chased you down like prey to catch the same elevator as you.
“Thanks for holding the door open for me.” His tone was light, teasing at first, before he noticed your tear-stained cheeks. He looked down at you, head cocked in surprise. “[Y/n]?” You refused to look up at him, refused to even acknowledge that he had spoken. “I was hoping to catch up with you after the meeting, but you rushed off…” He trailed off, unsure of how to handle you blatantly ignoring him. “You, uh… You haven’t been answering my texts.”
“Maybe you should take the hint, then.” You finally snapped back, not in the mood for whatever this was. This is what he always did—the way he looked at you made you sick. Like he felt sorry for you. He didn’t have the right. Your eyes met his, puffy, watery, but still burning with the same old anger and defiance you regarded him with.
“Whoa, hey, are you okay?” You glared and pushed past him, shoving him roughly behind you with your shoulder so you could press the unlit ‘Lobby’ button. You were not in the mood for Keigo ever, especially not today.
“Fuck off.” You spat for good measure, in case he hadn’t gotten the message, and for a moment his mask fell, revealing a flash of hurt across his face. Good. The rest of the elevator ride was spent in silence, as God intended, and the doors slid open to reveal the first floor of the Agency.
You disembarked, assuming you were out of the woods and free to mope in your prison of a mansion for the rest of the evening.
“Wait.” Keigo grabbed your wrist, pulling you backwards towards him with a rough motion.
“Ow, let go of me, you asshole!” Your voice was loud, an attempt to sound commanding, and a couple of front desk workers glanced up in surprise.
“Is he hurting you?” His voice was quiet, low, and his brow crinkled as his golden eyes flitted over yours to study your face. He loosened his grip, but you didn’t pull away, brain feeling fuzzy and skin vibrating from his touch.
“I– No, of course not! I just, I don’t want to talk about it, Keigo.”
“I don’t believe you.” Honey eyes bore into yours; you could feel your pulse thudding against his palm. So serious. You laughed darkly at him, at this idea he seemed to have in his head of Touya hitting you. Outside of endless press conferences, you never saw Touya. Alone on opposite ends of your home, he stayed out of your way—he’d probably spoken 50 words to you total since the start of this whole thing. You weren’t sure if it was for your benefit or his, but you were grateful either way.
“He’s not hurti–”
“Not that. I don’t believe that you don’t want to talk about it.”
You pulled away from his grasp, but didn’t object when he followed behind you as you walked out the doors, trailing you like a winged puppy.
“I’m fine.” Your words held less resolve this time around, and like muscle memory, you had slowed your pace, allowing Keigo to walk beside you on the street. Night had fallen during the last of your meetings, and with it the cold had too.
The two of you walked in silence for a while—you weren’t quite sure where you were going. You had expected he’d get bored by now and leave you be. “You can stop pretending you care about me, okay? I release you.”
Keigo huffed, a puff of frost visible in the crisp air.
“Why do you act like that?” You stopped dead in your tracks, narrowing your eyes at him.
“Like what?”
“Like you hate me.” He sounded quiet, hollowed out, a frown pulling at his lips. There it was again, that slip in composure. It was startling, seeing a glimpse of someone you once knew. The Keigo before you were both molded into Heroes. The Keigo you knew when you were just a kid. It took everything in you to fight the twinge in your heart, the urge to feel bad for him.
“I do.”
“You don’t.” His tone was so sure. Not asking you—telling you. You don’t hate me.
But how could you not? When the Commission first brought him in, you had been thrilled. A friend, just for you. Never in your life had you had someone to play with. You’d been inseparable, even into your teen years, pulling all-nighters to dream up your lives together as heroes, falling asleep in the same cot piled up on each other like puppies.
The shift had been slow, at first. Special training sessions just for him. Shifting your lessons from offensive skills to defensive, building your hero persona as a support role, telling you it was best when you tried to argue your potential. The way they clapped only for him during sparring matches. It became clear when he debuted before you, despite being two years younger. The Commission hadn’t brought you a friend. They’d brought you your replacement.
“You have no idea what it’s been like for me.”
Keigo scoffed, loudly, so sharp it came out like a bark. “There is no way you just said that to me.”
“You think you understand me just because we grew up in the same prison?”
“Yeah, I fucking do. I think I am the only person in this world who could possibly understand you, actually. And I think you’re the only person who has ever understood me, and you’re fucking abandoning me.” He took a step closer, challenging you. His puffed-out wings made him tower above you despite only being a couple of inches taller.
There he was. The Keigo you were used to. The one who always found a way to make your suffering about him. Everyone always found a way to make it about him.
“It is actually impressive how you have managed to make my arranged marriage about you.”
“You left me behind way, way before this.”
“I left you behind? Do you hear yourself? You are the number two hero, and I have been sold as an incubator to the Todoroki family.” You mirrored his body language, lunging forward, chest to chest with Keigo. Your fist was raised, almost as though you were about to hit him, daring him to flinch.
“You’re getting out.” His voice cracked, barely below a yell and ripe with something bitter. Jealousy, you realized with a sick turn of your stomach. No. How could anyone envy this?
“They are throwing me away!” You screamed it, then screamed again, no words, just a roar, finally crumbling, breaking. Saying out loud what you knew was true but were so scared to believe. You wept openly, shame burning like bile up your throat.
His hands grabbed your shoulders, shaking you.
“Stop it. Stop talking about yourself like you’re nothing.”
“You took everything I ever wanted,” you sobbed, clinging to Keigo’s shirt, knuckles white, “you have everything.”
“I don’t,” he murmured, and you didn’t remember your face being so close to his, his breath fanning across your cheek, cooling the damp tears. “I don’t.” A second time he said it, lips so close they pressed just barely to your own, giving you the space to pull away.
But you didn’t, you just breathed him in. The way he smelled was so familiar it made you feel nauseous, heart twisting with something, maybe agony. All the things you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel for years, comfort denied by ego and hurt.
Keigo took it as permission—it was—the two of you slammed your lips together hard in a kiss that was all teeth and need and spite, your arms wrapping roughly around his neck and harshly pulling him closer. His hands slid to your waist, wings moving to shield you instinctively if not a minute too late, forgetting for just a moment who you both were, the consequences you’d both face from making a scene.
Just as it started, it was over, you ripping away from him, shoving him hard, remembering you were supposed to hate him, you were supposed to marry Touya, you were supposed to be something. You were nothing. You were nothing.
Keigo looked at you, stunned, mouth agape like he had something to say. He probably did, and you didn’t want to stick around to hear it, so you took off running. You ran as fast as you could, even though you knew it didn’t matter; if Keigo wanted to follow you, he easily could.
But instead, he stood there frozen, watching you sprint off in the opposite direction of Touya’s house. The one they expected you to call your own. Shell-shocked, nerves on fire, a small smile creeping onto his face despite himself. If nothing else, just for a moment, he had seen you. Not the angry front you put on, not the walls he watched you build up over the last 14 years.
And you had kissed him. Finally. Not so close, not just out of reach. It had been real, your warm lips still lingering as you disappeared from his sight and into the darkness.
“I knew you didn’t hate me.”
