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flourchildwrites · 4 years ago

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It’s an ordinary Tuesday for most of the hospital occupants as well as the passersby scurrying on the street below. As Rei ends her call with a reputable cab company, she gazes out the window to watch their comings and goings one last time. From the comfort of her windowsill, she likes to imagine the colorful lives they lead in contrast to the hospital's endless reserve of rooms drenched in muted earth tones. The exception is, as always, a vibrant arrangement of Japanese gentians that sits in her windowsill, sticking out like a sore thumb.

But this Tuesday is different. Her doctors say that this day marks a milestone in her recovery. For what it’s worth, Rei is inclined to agree. She’s packing her bags to leave the hospital. Unlikely though it once seemed, Mrs. Todoroki is going home.

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Relationships & Characters: Todoroki Rei/Todoroki Enji, Himura Family, Todoroki Family, Todoroki Shouto

Genre: Flashbacks, Parent-Child Dynamics, Healing, Hopeful Ending

Trigger Warnings: Implied/Referenced Canonical Child and Spousal Abuse

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 2,993 words (Complete)

A/N: I'm so excited to share the fic I wrote for @todofamzine! I would like to thank the Winter Dawn mod team for being the best damn moderators I have ever worked with and @robinoxel for collabing with me and creating art of Rei to go along with the fic which you can find here. This fic was written before the recent chapters featuring the Todoroki family were published. I did my best to imagine what might have happened during Rei and Enji's past, and any canonical divergence you see is just that: canonical divergence coming from a simpler time. Flashbacks are in italics. I hope you enjoy this fic!

Home is a curious concept for Rei Todoroki. For the better part of a decade, she’s passed her time in a series of well-furnished hospital rooms with bland walls and bleached sheets. Her accommodations are not so cold as to be unwelcoming: extra blankets and plush pillows are a perk of her long penance, not to be taken for granted in spaces like these. But the walls are nearly bare, every wire is tethered taut, and someone somewhere is always—always—watching.

Oddly enough, she’s going to miss that.

What she will find waiting on the other side of the recovery divide is still a mystery.

Rei folds her life into two suitcases. One shirt and a pair of pants lay neatly on top of the open case, but beneath the surface, she allows some disorder. The hairbrush she used this morning is stuffed in the middle. Prescription bottles with rattling pills hide between layers of cloth, and there are deep wrinkles in the fabric below, not unlike the tired lines etched under her middle-aged eyes. She’s almost finished, almost ready to relegate the sterile smell of the hospital to nothing more than a memory, but there’s one last thing to pack.

Some of her photographs are framed; others are faded. A few photos are torn, and still, there’s the odd bit of charring on the edges of one or two pictures, courtesy of young Touya’s wild ways. Rei can’t help but smile at her collection of fond memories.

Her eyes flit to an old, framed newspaper clipping, and echoes of Rei’s glory days wrap around her like a favorite cardigan. In the picture, her stance is commanding; her arms are outstretched. A sheet of ice streams from her fingertips as her pale hair fans out from the force of the chilly blast. The sidekick Frostbyte is strong and vivacious, a match for any villain she might encounter in the small locality she protects. The headline beneath her picture speaks volumes: New Sidekick Frostbyte Freezes Crime Rates!

It’s a warm memory, something Rei wants to tuck in her chest and carry with her wherever she roams. She picks up the frame and places it safely in the top compartment of her baggage. Another image, a picture already tucked in her suitcase, draws her attention.

Rei doesn’t know why she keeps the picture. She isn’t sure why Fuyumi pulled the image from the family albums for her in the first place. Perhaps both Todoroki women are sentimental for what was and what might have been. Looking at the staged photograph now, Rei sees hope in the lineless eyes of her younger self, a blushing, traditional bride in a pure white shiromuku. And there’s Enji by her side, a tall, prideful hero made uncomfortable by the humble formality of the Shinto shrine.

The smile fades from Rei’s face; it is replaced by well-earned worry lines as she glances sideways at the blue flowers on her windowsill. She’ll never know how Frostbyte appeared on Enji’s bride-to-be radar. Neither will she ever be certain if her family, eager to capitalize on her early success as a sidekick and drowning in debt, put her profile into the matchmaker’s hands. Either way, the request was made and answered before the young woman could give her blessing.

Looking back, it feels like their first meeting happened lifetimes ago, as if the entire event is witnessed through a pane of frosted glass. But Rei remembers every detail, down to the tea stains on her mother’s best table cloth and the nervous buzz in the pit of her stomach. The scene plays out as though she is on the outside looking in, forever separated from the optimistic young woman she used to be.

...

The Todoroki family seems pleased.

In between courses, Rei’s mother hisses this sentiment in her daughter’s ear. Her father sits politely through dinner, speaking when spoken to and wearing his deference on his sleeve. Enji appears to be nice, though fixated on his work and the pro hero rankings. His mother and father are cordial, especially considering their lofty status; however, their impeccable etiquette is not important. The Todoroki family fortune is the reason her mother and father agreed to this meeting.

The older couples beam at their children when, somehow, dinner devolves into dessert. Their eager matchmaker announces that Rei and Enji should spend a few moments alone to speak candidly about dating with marriage (and children) in mind. Rei, for one, isn’t sure how to feel. She cannot know how a conversation of this nature is supposed to go.

Nevertheless, she stays the course and flashes Enji an accommodating smile as they take a seat on the bench in her family’s small garden. The summer heat does not agree with Rei, but her favorite flowers, bell-shaped blossoms the color of sapphires, are in bloom. They bring her comfort, and Rei doesn’t hesitate to tell Enji that these are her favorite to jumpstart the obligatory small talk.

He doesn’t respond in kind.

“I saw your rescue in Hasetsu,” the young man observes, changing the topic. “The way you fortified the building with your ice quirk was impressive, and I understand there were no casualties.”

Rei does not reply. She merely nods in assent, wondering if he really wants to talk about the ins and outs of their careers when marriage is on the table. For the first time, she glances upward and looks at Enji Todoroki. Impressive height, flaming hair, and cerulean eyes speak for themselves, but there’s also a hint of something sweet and smoldering in the night air that’s coming from him. There’s no denying that the rising pro hero is, as the tabloid papers are fond of saying, a hot commodity.

But the blush that dusts Rei’s cheeks isn’t only from physical attraction, nerves, or the thick material of her best dress. There are worries and concerns, curiosities that Rei thinks should be sated. Her thoughts spill from her lips before she can catch them.

“Why me?” she asks, bolder because of the plum wine passed around the dinner table. “You’re Endeavor. Surely, you have people lining up to-”

“Did no one speak to you about this before our meeting?” Enji interrupts.

The grin wilts from Rei’s face. “What do you mean?”

Enji sighs. He stands and steps forward; his figure illuminates, outshining the moon. His glow erupts into a burst of hellfire, and Enji’s arms are engulfed. The sleeves of his fine suit are ruined, but he doesn’t appear to care. Rei is startled, yet she only feels a gentle heat radiating from the star before her. Enji’s command of his quirk is incredible.

“Power like this comes with a cost,” he remarks bluntly.

He turns to face Rei, and the blaze surrounding his arms contracts, burning brighter. When Enji grimaces, her eyes widen with the realization that he is overheating.

Rei can relate.

“With a quirk like this, my body can only withstand the heat for so long. I assume that it is the same for you and your ice.”

The puzzle pieces connect as reality settles on her shoulders. Their pairing isn’t about temperament so much as temperature; their powers are polar opposites that cancel and complement. Enji reaches out to take Rei’s hand, and instinctively, she drops her body temperature to combat his blaze. Frost meets hellfire, steam rises, and the garden is flooded with fury. When the cloud clears, Rei and Enji remain hand-in-hand. No burns. No ice.

But it is neither luck nor good fortune. It is calculated equilibrium, a quirk marriage through and through.

...

She remembers that there were three dates, three opportunities to be seen and photographed at hotspots near his agency and hers. Matching stories were crafted for the hows and whens of their contrived romance. While they dated, the Todoroki family lawyers drafted an airtight prenuptial agreement.

The contract arrived on a Friday evening, Rei recalls, along with a small package that contained an engagement ring worth more than six months of her salary. The advice from her mother was particularly memorable.

...

“Answer him,” her mother’s voice pleads. “The sooner, the better. Remember your family is counting on y-”

Rei stops the answering machine. She doesn’t need to hear the rest. The older woman’s lecturing tone grates on Rei’s nerves. The pressure from her father is more subtle, but it’s still there. She isn’t sure where the family debt came from; however, she doubts that the schools she attended were inexpensive. Plus, her mother never hesitates to tell her that she should give them more of her paycheck, though the salary of a sidekick is barely enough.

She rolls her weary eyes and tosses the package on the low table of her small living space. Paperwork spills across the surface; the ring box nearly falls to the floor. Rei wants nothing more than to sink into her futon until her next shift rolls around. But Endeavor is not a patient person.

Rei runs through her internal debate once more.

True enough, Enji will be hard-pressed to find a better match than Rei, not for the ends he has in mind—a child with a combination of their quirks. Likewise, Rei knows that she will never rise as high as him on the hero billboard chart. It’s not that she doesn’t want to make a difference, but her countenance is naturally understated. Rei would like to live a quiet life, helping others and supporting her family.

And someday, she’d like to have children too.

Yet, the possibility of a loveless marriage is a difficult pill to swallow, especially since the concept of romance is nebulous in Rei’s mind. Her parents swear that love can take root and grow with time, and Enji is nothing if not dedicated to his goals. Moreover, Rei is not so naive as to pretend that a comfortable life with a steady income isn’t attractive in and of itself.

One last glance at his profile cements her answer. She doesn’t revel in bargaining for a better future as she slips on the engagement ring and signs her name on the dotted line of the prenuptial agreement. Rei calls her parents to share the news and phones Enji to tell him she’s accepted.

As she lies down on her futon to rest, Rei swears that she will plant a garden at their first home, filled with flowers to admire and founded on promises worth keeping. She imagines pretty blooms decorating a harmonious house alongside the pitter-patter of little feet which grow into the large shoes Enji wants filled. Rei consoles herself: if she does a good job of bringing up the next generation of Todorokis, her children will have the luxury of choosing love instead of a contract.

...

Rei admits that hanging up her hero costume was an easy thing to do after the marriage. It was even easier to watch her hardened muscles soften into feminine curves as life took root in her belly. Her parents were proud; Enji was satisfied. Any lingering doubts were pushed aside by the demands of motherhood.

And when Touya’s quirk proved disappointing, Rei tried harder to fulfill her side of the bargain. She can scarcely remember a time in her twenties when she was not waiting for her child’s quirk to manifest or swallowing prenatal vitamins over an anxious lump in her throat.

Fuyumi was born on a crisp December morning eleven months after Enji declared Touya unsuitable for further training. Like clockwork, Natsuo was on the way after their sweet daughter failed to manifest a fire quirk before she turned four. Then, Rei cannot forget how Enji became impatient. Natsuo had not reached his second birthday when her husband decided that he was also a failure. As Rei thinks back on the arrival of her last child, hindsight’s perfect vision highlights chilling insight.

...

“It’s a boy!”

Strong cries rebound off the walls of the delivery room. Rei breathes a sigh of relief as her body shudders from the efforts of her labor. At the end of her bed, the hospital staff congratulate her on another healthy baby as they pass the newborn to his mother. The comforting feeling of an infant pressed against Rei’s chest will never grow old, and she savors this moment with Shouto, mumbling words of love as she holds him. Deep down, Rei realizes that her fourth pregnancy was hard, and secretly, she dreads what her husband will think if this child also has a head full of snow-white hair.

Enji often tells her that he knew the other children were failures the moment he laid eyes on them. On this subject, husband and wife will never agree, but Rei is content that he leaves their upbringing to her. She’s done her best to temper Touya’s attitude, bolster Fuyumi’s confidence, and keep Natsuo laughing.

Rei glances down at the fresh face of her newborn son and is perplexed by the contradiction she sees between his halves. Trembling fingers weave through his hair. Fine white and crimson strands part down the middle. Yet, Shouto’s hair is not his most striking feature. A pair of mismatched eyes blink up at Rei. One is bright turquoise, and the other is a somber gray.

The contrast is uncanny.

“Heterochromia iridum,” the doctor pronounces as if on cue. “That explains his eyes. Usually, it’s a benign condition, nothing to worry about. Considering his hair, I’d say it’s all genetic, possibly related to his quirk.”

Through a blissful haze of oxytocin, Rei registers Enji’s hand on her shoulder. He laughs in an abrasive chuckle that overtakes Shouto’s cries.

“Finally,” he exclaims, “a masterpiece.”

If the doctor and nurses think Enji’s behavior is untoward, they keep the observation to themselves. Rei is too exhausted to fight the relief she feels. She allows her husband to take the newborn baby from her arms instead of insisting that she nurse Shouto straight away as she did with her other children.

“You did well this time,” he mutters.

Rei smiles wearily at the compliment, but it does not sit as well as she believed it would.

...

In retrospect, Rei understands that there was no singular moment that caused the trouble which followed. Rather, it was a collection of compromises that seemed, at the time, to be for the best. Rei gathers the rest of her photographs. Carefully, she thumbs through the small stack and is reminded of all the seeds she and Enji planted in their garden.

Undoubtedly, her children are her greatest love, and she tucks the loose photos in her purse for safekeeping, holding their cheerful likenesses close and the good memories closer. Looking around, Rei realizes that she’s finished packing—all except the vase of Japanese gentians sitting on the windowsill.

Rei prepared for this. She spoke at length with her therapist about the baggage she intends to take into the next phase of her life. Some of it is essential. Never again will she let herself slip so far as to harm someone she cherishes. No more will she suffer the company of people more concerned with ends than means. But when it comes to Enji, Rei is of two minds, torn between the past and the present. Scarred and repentant, he is not the person he once was.

Neither is she.

A brisk knock on the door stirs Rei from her reverie. She turns to address the nurse and is happy to find a familiar face.

“Your discharge papers are ready, and your cab is here, Mrs. Todoroki,” he says cheerfully, already taking her bags. “Are you sure you don’t want your family to escort you home?”

Rei shakes her head.

“They offered, but I want to do this by myself.”

“Fair enough.” The nurse shrugs.

He takes a step toward the windowsill and reaches to collect the flowers when Rei makes her decision. With a gentle expression but a firm palm tilted upward, she halts his kind gesture.

“The flowers stay,” Rei says confidently. “I don’t have room for them anymore.”

It’s a short walk from her old room to the hospital’s front door, but the journey took Rei over a decade to complete. She slips into the back of the cab and passes the driver a slip of paper with the name and address of her new accommodations—a small, refurbished apartment with a low table, comfortable futon, and no answering machine. It's a perfect place for someone starting over.

Rei knows that if she turns around for a last look, she will see Japanese gentians standing guard on the windowsill, but she lets this opportunity pass. As the cab speeds away, Rei commits herself to the good habit of not looking back.

“That’s a nice address, Miss. Where are you headed to?” the driver asks.

It’s been a long time since Rei was called anything other than Mrs. Todoroki. Caught in the small thrill, she doesn’t correct him. She’s grateful for the crowded city’s veil of anonymity and, within it, her second chance.

“Home,” she answers honestly, feeling freer than she has in decades.

#bnha #todoroki rei #todoroki enji #endeavor #todoroki shouto #todoroki family #todofamzine #trigger warning for implied/referenced canonical child and spousal abuse

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