Hawks slowly approached Shoto, his hands held high to show he meant him no harm.

The feverish teenager glanced nervously from side to side, as if expecting something - or someone - to suddenly appear.

- Touya ? What has he done?, Hawks asked, still walking slowly.

Shoto looked up at him, then shrank away, moving fluidly around him to the window.

Hawks swung to his feet to watch him but remained motionless.

Shoto paused at the window, exhaled loudly and ran a trembling hand through his hair.

Hawks saw the shiver run down his shoulders, noticed the way his neck tightened as he suddenly dropped his head in despair and muttered:

- Shit, shit, shit

Without taking his eyes off Shoto, Hawks leaned back and closed the door. It slammed shut.

The teenager was startled but didn't turn around.

Hawks walked around to the right of his desk - Shoto was on the left - forcing himself to make as little noise as possible as he walked, so as not to startle him by accident.

He sat down on the corner of his desk and waited, arms crossed, for Shoto to say anything.

But the boy didn't speak.

Hawks observed his profile, his shoulders slumped, his arms flailing, his hands clenched and trembling in spite of himself.

He opened the first drawer and took out his pack of cigarettes.

He inhaled his own smoke through his nose and exhaled to get the nicotine to his brain faster.

- You okay ?

Shoto dropped the head he'd been holding in both hands and turned to face Hawks.

He had dark circles around his eyes as if he hadn't slept in weeks, a waxy complexion and prominent cheekbones that made him look sick.

A huge purple haematoma covered his eyebrow and temple.

Hawks made no comment.

Shoto held Hawks' gaze.

- I just...

His eyes shifted to the floor to his left.

- I didn't know where else to go

Hawks smoked slowly, his eyes narrowing.

- What did he do to you ?

- To me ? Nothing.

Hawks' eyes darkened.

He pointed at Shoto with the hand holding the cigarette.

- That's not what that bruise tells me

Shoto lifted two distracted fingers to his left eyebrow, passing right by the pale scar that crossed his eye, eyelid and eyebrow.

His expression twisted in pain for a second, then he met Hawk's gaze and pretended not to feel anything.

- It's not a big deal, he said

He looked down.

Hawks felt anger surge through him like a tsunami of fever: he took two long drags, his eyes riveted on Shoto, ash falling onto the tips of his fingernails, then he crushed the cigarette on the corner of his desk with a crackling sound.

- Shoto, what did he do to you ?

Shoto looked suddenly irritated.

- I told you he did nothing to me

Hawks preferred his mean expression and hard stare to the pathetic version of Shoto that had entered his office.

He made a dismissive hand gesture that would irritate Shoto even more :

- Who then ? Talk instead of making a show of yourself

There it was, the very expression of ill-contained rage he wanted to see.

Hawks lit a cigarette again, more calmly.

As long as Shoto had the energy to get angry, all was well.

- He took it out on Fuyu, he spat

- Fuyu ?

The file the Commission had given him before he took Shoto under his wing conjured up the image of a young woman with glasses.

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

- Fuyumi, he growled. My sister.

- What did he do to her ?

Shoto looked up at the city.

The red neon lights reflected in his eyes, casting unsettling shadows across his face.

- I was just about to go out, he said. I'd been planning to go and see Natsu and Léo for a long time... She was in the kitchen. I heard them talking. And, I don't know, he suddenly got angry and pushed her hard against the fridge

Hawks looked at Shoto's face.

- I wanted to... She's my sister, you know ? I couldn't leave her like that

A shadow of doubt crept into Hawks' mind.

Shoto wasn't close to his mother, brother or sister.

- I know she and I... I'm not close to them, you know ? But when he raised his fist and she cowered, I don't know...

He shrugged.

- It's like my legs just moved on their own

Hawks shook off the taste of paranoia in his mouth.

He was a kid.

Of course he was going to be upset when he saw his sister being beaten up. Of course he would want to interfere.

That's what any sensible person would do.

- But you didn't fight back, Hawks pointed out.

He looked equivocally at his temple.

Shoto looked down, almost... ashamed.

- I can't, I... they'd think I was lying

- They ?

Shoto began to fidget.

- My father, my mother, everyone, he said half aloud

He began to pace up and down, almost theatrically, but the worry in his eyes seemed real.

- I hate him, everyone knows that. They all think I'm just looking for an excuse to take it out on him: if I'd touched him, it would have come back to bit me

Hawks felt a surge of sympathy for him.

- Fuyumi could have backed you up, couldn't she ? Say that you did right, that he'd taken it out on her ?

- That's the worst part, Shoto said, She and Natsu are really happy that he's back. They say he'll get over it, that he's just trying to get rid of too much emotion, that we should leave him alone and not tell anyone about it.

- What do you mean 'they say'? I thought this was the first time this had happened?

- It's the first time I've been there, he said. But I know there have been other altercations when Dad wasn't home. Before, at least he was content not to touch her, but now...

He left his sentence hanging, his glassy eyes drifting across the city he couldn't see.

He clenched his fists and released them abruptly, powerless.

- If I take it out on him, he'll go crying to our parents, and my father will hate me

This emphasis on his father's reaction as the thing Shoto feared most fitted his psychological profile.

Hawk's suspiscions subsided.

- He'll end up killing one of them and-

His voice cracked.

- And there's nothing I can do about it

Dejectedly, Shoto rubbed his face with both hands and massaged his eyelids with his thumb and forefinger, remaining prostrate and motionless for a long moment, as if on the verge of crying.

Hawks wanted to stand up and squeeze Shoto's shoulder, but his fingers curled into nothing and he brought his hand back to him, powerless.

He opened his mouth to reply but fell silent, unable to think of anything to say.

He was the Hero, the one who was supposed to solve everything: so why couldn't he answer him ?

Shoto looked up at the city and sighed almost painfully.

The blazing headlights of the cars and the red neon of the signs drew scarlet furrows across his face, as if he were crying rivers of blood

- It reminds me... I feel like I'm five years old again and I know he's going to come and kill me but I can't tell anyone

He raised his left hand and looked desperately at his palm.

Red light threads ran down his bloody hand, curling around his forearm.

- Ten years later and nothing has changed...

The image of a blonde child with wings of bone was superimposed on that of Shoto.

He was sitting in a wheelchair, covered in bandages full of pus and itchy scars, his hands full of his own blood from tearing at the skin to relieve an ache that would never leave him.

Hawks blinked.

The unreal image of the bloodied Shoto faded like mist in the middle of the night, leaving behind an exhausted and desperate teenager.

Hawks whispered :

- Don't do anything you'll regret

Suddenly, Shoto blinked, as if waking up abruptly

He looked around, vaguely confused, as if wondering how he'd got there.

He looked at Hawks in surprise.

He turned sharply on his heel and walked around the desk.

Hawks, worried, followed him like a shadow, hovering around him, trying to find a way to calm him down without really knowing what to say.

- I don't even know why I came, Shoto muttered.

- Wait a moment

The boy stopped, one hand on the handle.

He turned his downcast eyes to Hawks.

- Can you... can you help me ?

Hawks felt his heart tighten.

He didn't answer.

- That's what I thought

Shoto left, slamming the door behind him.

Hawks' guilt tore at him inside.

*

Bonus : The construction site

She was as small as a child, dressed in a blue coat with fake fur on the cuffs and collar. Long blue stripes fell from her armpits to her elbows in an attempt at style that resembled a curtain of pearls or a fan of feathers.

Mouth slightly agape, nose in the air, she stroked her Chihuahua - purring with delight, ears back, lips curled over its tiny teeth - like a cartoon villain.

- That's Mrs Yakitsu, Yakima said. We're going to rebuild her apartment today.

Her mouth still open, she looked me up and down, her bluish eyelids half open.

She approached me in several short steps.

- You're the boy who came through the roof of my house, she said soberly.

I pretended to think.

- Now that you mention it, it does ring a bell

She didn't smile or frown and continued to look prim, playing with her pearl necklace with her left hand and scratching her dog with her right.

She let go of the necklace and her scarf, printed with a sea parrot and set against a coconut background, covered her throat.

Her hand, studded with rings, fumbled in her oyster-coloured handbag with the dog in it.

Without opening its eyes, the dog lifted a paw to let her take what she needed.

She took out a dry, round biscuit that looked like a pebble of sand. She blew on it, then ran her fingertips over it to remove the few dog hairs and the broken pencil lead.

- For stopping that brute from destroying more than my wall and ceiling

She handed it to me.

I felt the beginnings of vomit creep up my throat.

- ...such gratitude is unnecessary

I held it (politely) at a safe distance from my face.

She turned to Yakima and handed him a cookie.

He looked at her, a little surprised, then took the cake and mumbled an apology. He seemed touched by the gesture.

He looked at her and when their eyes met, Yakitsu's face softened slightly.

Yakima smiled foolishly at her cake as she looked away, combing her hair back with one hand.

The vomit was in my mouth now, barely contained by the barrier of my lips.

Yakima suddenly clapped his hands together.

- What are you waiting for, boy ? Haven't you heard? We've got a ceiling to rebuild ! Get to work !

*

Author's note :

Seems things are getting interesting with Hawks and Shoto... makes me wonder what will happen next.

Don't know if I said it last time but the things that Hawks mentionned when he was talking about AFO, wars, what it means to win wars etc is not something straight up from my imagination but things I took from a book called 'War From The Ground Up' by Emile Simpson. Check it if it's a subject that interests you, it is really interesting.

Also dropped the famous 'The Eyes of God' chapter part 1 today : go check the story's P@treon, Nar_cisseENG , if you want to read this one and the 26 other chapters ahead of schedule.

And as always, see you in the next update everyone !