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ichigo-daifuku · 3 years

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Apples and Trees

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia Pairing: Hawks/Todoroki Fuyumi Genre: Fluff, Angst, Family Feels Word Count: 2k | AO3 Link

Synopsis: Keigo and Fuyumi are expecting a child. One evening, he comes home to her sitting in front of a broken television and experiences the strangest sense of déjà vu. As he reflects on the past and worries for the future, a reminder he needs comes from the most unexpected person.

Warning: The following contains spoilers for Chapter 299. Contents: Pregnancy, Couvade Syndrome

These days, Keigo would finish his hero work early and head straight home.

Life was more peaceful and leisurely, just the way he liked it. If trouble arose while he was off the clock, it didn’t pose a problem as he had numerous sidekicks who were more than ready to get into action. Back then, they would mostly clean up after he had accomplished most of the work, but now, responsibilities were delegated more evenly to the members of his agency. It was a welcome change of pace. If truth be told, his sidekicks were glad their superior had become less of a busy bird—especially, now that he had tied the knot to a wonderful woman.

“I’m home,” Keigo announced and closed the door. He placed his shoes on the rack near the entrance and glanced at his wristwatch. Fuyumi should be home by now, but he received no response from her.

He checked the living room and found his wife sitting on the sofa. She was so focused on fiddling with something in her hands that the door opening and shutting—as well as his greeting—escaped her notice. She let out an exhausted sigh and grimaced.

“Fuyumi,” Keigo called, rushing to her side, “What’s wrong?”

Startled, she turned her head to face him. A sheepish smile tugged at her lips as she showed him the remote control and glanced forward.

He followed her gaze, his eyes meeting the blank screen of the television.

“The TV won’t work,” she informed him.

Keigo stiffened, those four words giving him the strangest sense of déjà vu. Suddenly, he was seeing through his younger self’s eyes again. The slam of the door as his father entered their shelter haunted him. His father was furious at Keigo for sneaking out, accusing Keigo of selling him out to someone in town. Tomie, his mother, sat on the floor, watching the two of them with her eyes—and with a pair of eyeballs floating around her. She held a remote control and pressed the power button. When it proved to be another futile attempt to turn the device on, she let his father know the circumstances, looking dazed and confused.

“Dear, the TV won’t work.”

“Huh?! Like I give a crap!”

“Keigo?” Fuyumi tugged at his jacket, rousing him from his reverie. Her cold hand slipped into his, and she asked, “Is everything okay?”

“Huh? Oh, I just remembered something.”

Keigo didn’t want to be like him. He wouldn’t be like his father.

Like arrows from bows, he sent a few of his feathers to unplug the television from the socket and remove the other wires attached to its back. His larger feathers wrapped around the appliance and secured it, making it float steadily, ready to be carried outside. He bent his head down, peered at Fuyumi’s face, and gave her a reassuring smile. “I’ll take this to the electronics repair shop nearby.”

They could purchase another television, but they had gotten this one less than a year ago. Keigo knew Fuyumi well. If possible, she would prefer having it repaired and would only opt to buy a new one if it proved to be a hopeless case.

“No, Keigo…” Fuyumi shook her head, her eyes tearing up as she gave his hand a light squeeze. “Don’t leave, okay?”

He froze, taken aback by that feeling of déjà vu all over again.

“Hey. Don’t leave, okay?”

“Then find my next job for me!”

Fuyumi sniffled, making panic swell within him. Although the past lingered in his memory, he had no time to dwell on it. His wife was upset, and she was his priority. He sat down next to her and patted her back, wondering what he could do to make her feel better.

“What is it?”

“You just got home. I missed you,” she muttered.

“How about we go together?” he offered, relieved he could do at least this much for her, “Let’s go to a restaurant while the TV is being repaired.”

“Okay.” She nodded. “Let me just get my sweater.”

“I’ll get it for you,” he said, more of his feathers flying to their bedroom to fetch her sweater as soon as the words left his lips. “Anything you wanna eat?”

Fuyumi’s face lit up, her troubles melting away at the sound of food. “Yakitori!”

“Huh? We had yakitori yesterday, though? Not that I’m complaining.”

“I really want to eat yakitori right now, Keigo. I can’t stop thinking about it.” Fuyumi placed a palm on her belly and rubbed it in gentle circles. “I think our baby likes yakitori.”

Ah, yes. Keigo was going to be a father soon.

His feathers arrived with Fuyumi’s sweater. She slipped it on and put her phone inside her pocket. The two of them made their way to the door with the broken television in tow, which, Keigo thought, would look quite funny to onlookers later.

“Wow, nice socks,” Keigo commented as Fuyumi took off her slippers.

Fuyumi glanced at the Hawks-themed socks she was wearing and laughed. “Thanks. Hawks gave it to me.”

He feigned a gasp. “Is that so? Maybe he likes you.”

She chuckled, taking her sneakers from the rack and letting them fall on the floor. “I think so, too.”

Keigo crouched down and put his index finger between the place where her heel and the back of the shoe would meet in an attempt to assist her in wearing it.

“Hey, I can still do it myself. My baby bump isn’t that big yet,” she stated, visibly confused.

He looked up at her and tilted his head to the side. “I know, but you’ll need to get used to it. I’ll do it for you every day.”

Fuyumi gave him a meaningful look. Her cheeks flushed lightly, in the way he had always found so pretty from the very first day they met. She said nothing else but relented, slipping her foot inside the shoe. Keigo helped her put it on and did likewise to the other one. He tied her shoelaces and made sure they wouldn’t get undone while they walked later. Once he was finished, he put on his own footwear and opened the door.

“Thank you,” she said softly, her smile reaching her eyes.

He stopped and stared at her for a few seconds before he returned her grin with one of his own. Her presence made this house into a home. Soon, there would be three of them living in this place. He knew she would be a good mother. Would he be a good father?

For the nth time, he brushed aside the question that had been boggling his mind lately. Was it just him or was he oddly being sentimental these days? As he pondered over it, the random thought of yakitori started to make his mouth water and his stomach grumble. Yakitori sounded a hundred times more delicious than usual all of a sudden. He wondered why.

The trip from their home to the restaurant wore Fuyumi out. Keigo told her he would take the television to the electronics repair shop a few streets away and asked her to wait for him at their designated table. He promised to come back before their orders would be served, and she agreed. Fortunately, the damage to their television was minor. The staff confirmed they could finish the repair without much difficulty and informed him he could pick it up by tomorrow.

Pleased with the turn of events, Keigo exited the shop, whistling. The weather was nice, and the streets were not as crowded as he expected them to be. He was about to send Fuyumi a message relaying the good news when an unexpected person passed by the sidewalk, making him do a double-take.

“Huh? Endeavor-san?!”

Enji searched for the source of the loud voice. He recognized Keigo and pointed out, “I’m retired.”

As Enji turned around and started to walk away, Keigo rushed forward with his wings, falling into step beside him. “I know, but you looked like you were patrolling.”

“That’s Shoto’s job now,” Enji stated, a hint of pride laced in his voice. “I’m just taking a walk.”

“Yeah. Shoto’s doing great, of course.” Keigo nodded. “But old habits die hard, don’t they?”

Enji grunted, ignoring his question. “Why are you here, anyway?”

“Our TV isn’t working, so I took it to the repair shop.” Keigo pointed to the establishment he came out of with his thumb.

Enji glanced at the place but felt no need to ask. Ever since she was a young girl, Fuyumi had always enjoyed watching television. He knew Keigo did it for her. “Good.”

Keigo laughed awkwardly but soon grew silent, his facial expression shifting into a somber one. He halted his steps, causing him to get left behind. Before he could chicken out, he decided to simply go for it. “Endeavor-san.”

Enji paused and turned his face to look at him. “What is it this time?”

“Do you think… I’ll be like him?”

“Who?”

“My father.”

Enji contemplated it and returned his gaze forward. “No, I wouldn’t have let you marry my daughter if you were like him. Or like me, for that matter.”

Keigo felt a lump on his throat and a sting in his eyes. His voice barely a whisper, he replied, “I don’t doubt that.”

“If you’re that worried about turning out to be like Takami, then keep on walking on that path you’re on. You’ve already chosen to live a different life from that man.”

Keigo supposed Enji spoke from his personal experience. Granted, as their parents, he and Rei passed on traits and characteristics to Toya, Fuyumi, Natsuo, and Shoto, but at the end of the day, all of them were their own person. It seemed obvious now that it dawned on him, but it was a reminder Keigo needed: it was the same for him and his parents, too.

Although capturing Keigo’s father was only one of the many cases Endeavor had solved, it changed Keigo’s life. He would never forget it. Years later, he recognized how much of a flawed man his childhood hero was. To him, as time passed by, Endeavor’s shine was replaced by Enji’s, the man who acknowledged and atoned for his mistakes.

At a loss for words, Keigo could only muster a small smile to form on his trembling lips. Enji’s opinion mattered to Keigo. Hearing those words from Enji brought relief to his mind. Keigo was being quite emotional these days, wasn’t he? How strange.

Enji, having received no reply for quite some time, took it as a sign the conversation was over. “I’m leaving.”

“Otosan,” Keigo called, prompting Enji to stop in his tracks, “why don’t you join Fuyumi and me to dinner?”

Enji turned around, a brow quirked in question. “And have you annoying me the whole time again?”

“Aw, don’t be like that to your son-in-law!” Keigo joked, stepping forward to persuade him. “But seriously, Fuyumi would love to see you.”

A long pause passed before Enji asked, “Really?”

“Yeah.” Keigo took his phone and called the first number on his speed-dial. Luckily, his wife answered on the first ring. “Fuyumi, I bumped into otosan just now. I invited him to dinner, but I think he wants you to be the one to invite him.”

Enji frowned. “What? That’s not what I—”

Keigo swiftly turned away and laughed.

“He’s there? Do you think tonight would be a good time to tell him about our little one?”

“If you’re ready, then I think so,” Keigo replied, giving no indication of what they were talking about to Enji.

“I’m nervous, but okay. Let’s tell him.” Fuyumi took a deep breath and exhaled. “Hand him the phone, please.”

Keigo did as she asked.

Enji glared at him through narrowed eyes but otherwise took the phone from his palm when Fuyumi’s voice came from the speaker.

As Fuyumi convinced her father to come to dinner, a challenge she was an expert on, Keigo slipped a hand inside his pocket, his fingers reaching the little notebook he used for his hero work, where the sonogram of their child rested inside.

That evening, Keigo witnessed his childhood hero and father-in-law burst into loud, happy tears in the middle of a yakitori restaurant.

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dadzawa-adopt-dabi · 3 years

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Discord prompt pain lvl 7

He didn’t have a heat for a couple months and his pills made him sick, so Dabi stops taking them. Magne looks at him with worry when he’s sick in the morning and he can't reassure her. Tell her that he can’t be pregnant, he’s always been too thin, too sick but since he joined the League that’s changed. It’s a possibility now, and the tests he buys confirm its more than a possibility suddenly. It’s a reality. The entire league is in an uproar, fussing around him and checking on him constantly. He didn’t know how he felt about it, it made him feel like he was made of glass. Like they were waiting for him to break. Packs did this though, he could get used to it eventually. Used to Jin making coffee and handing him a cup in the mornings. Shigaraki constantly scenting him and dragging him into games. He leaves a lot, Sako and Kuroguri freakout everytime and worriedly call his phone, until he starts leaving a message with someone that he’s going to be back. He gets bigger and rounder and then one night, before he can’t hide it any longer, Dabi leaves the base. He can figure out what to do later, after he’s had her and isn’t worried about the league's reaction. If the baby lives. He’s always had poor health, he’s felt her move on and off. Isn’t she supposed to move more than that? Isn’t he supposed to be bigger? Has his scent changed yet? The questions plague Dabi as he shoves himself into one of his old hiding holes, nicer side of town with nasty people. He just needs to keep quiet. He'll lose the baby or give birth and drop her off. Or die during it, he doesn't know. Dabi doesn't have any options, he ran out of them a long time ago and every choice he’s made sense has given him less and less. He makes it a few more weeks and wants to cry when he feels the cramping start. On a makeshift nest in the corner, sobbing as he realizes he waited too long. He doesn't have any money, any help he was going to call the league tomorrow. He was, he really was but now he cant find his phone and it’s probably dead and this is going to hurt so much. Memories of his mother screaming echo in his mind and he sobs, this isn’t like that. Not yet. He remembers when Enji hit her too hard, the unnamed baby that took hours of her screaming and begging for a hospital as Enji locked her in the bathroom. He’d been a preteen and unable to do anything but stare in horror. A cramp rips through him and he lets out a sob as he rolls himself on to his stomach.

Looking for his phone in the nest. It’s not there and he whines as he feels his muscles ripple, starting to bleed all over it. He’s more scared than hurt so he manages to stand, distressed, and panicking as he runs through the abandoned apartment as fast as he can. There’s an old metal bowl and a rag he finds in the kitchen, under the sink. He fills the sink with water and shakes. He knows there’s going to be blood, that's what the bowl and rag are for. All the towels and pillows he could find earlier are in his nest and he shucks off his coat he’d had on for warmth and grabs everything back to the nest. He never had one of these before the league, hadn’t needed or wanted one. Then he was in a home and the urge had struck, getting worse when he met Hawks. When makeout and late nights stayed make outs. He doesn't know what to do now that he needs one. Can’t pick up and leave because his pack needs him, because he wants hawks, because he’s having a fucking baby.

The cramps grow worse with all his walking around and panic, Dabi realizes he’s been whining the entire time and strips his shirt off at the same time as he steps out of his pants. Balling the shirt up and shoving it in his mouth as he lays back in the bare nest. It smells wrong, Dabi’s scared and everything below his waist is on fire, the pain balling in his pelvis and wrapping around his waist to travel up his spine. His pecs ache worse than they have the week he’s stayed here. Getting ready for a baby who’s going to be dead, they’re going to be dead. Dabi knows it in his soul, he hasn’t felt a kick in weeks, it’s too early, he thinks anyways, he knots the shirt behind his head. He’s on his side, sobbing as each pulse, every push his body demands he gives hurts him. His nails dig deep grooves into his arms and scars as he pushes. Crying and whining through the makeshift gag he’s given himself. His vision whites out in pain several times as he begs for relief, for comfort, help. He won’t get any he already knows. Probably won’t even let him hold his dead baby’s body as they drag him to jail, to die. His quirk starts smoking his scar seams and he knows he can’t do this alone. He can’t , he’s going to burn everything up and the league will never know what happened, his father will never be exposed and he screams in pain. Unlatching one of his hands to pull a pair of quirk handcuffs out from under it, bartered for after he’d burnt down a shelter years ago. Nightmares making it impossible to stay in them anymore and unable to sleep without risk of killing everything around him. He remembered vividly drinking the soda the hero gave him, not knowing what it would do at the time, hours spent on his back in exchange for the expensive necessary things he hates. He can’t touch them without wanting to vomit, the memory slams him in the face every time, but he can’t be found right now. He’s too vulnerable, unable to defend himself, not knowing what will happen besides pain that ruins him as the blood and fluids between his legs gush faster. He’s ruined for anyone after this, mentally and physically he can’t do this. The cuffs lock as omega noises begging for help and distress pour out, muffled by the shirt. He wishes he’d experienced what Keigo gave him at least one more time before he’d done this to himself. Not even keigo will want him again with how wide he can feel his muscles stretching. The blood starts to slow as pain white his vision out for longer. He reaches a hand down to his hole where the baby is coming out and bites the t-shirt, inserting his fingers and wiggling them as deep as they can go as he screams in pain. He’s stretched wide and has no problem inserting them, he touches something and lets out a wail as he withdraws his hand, making sure his coat is gathered under him to catch them. The next contraction makes him throw his head back and squirm, screaming even after the gag is misplaced enough that it falls off. He’s switched on to his back now and his arms are curled near his chest as his legs twitch and kick, but there’s no escaping this pain. He hears a cuss and whips his head around, pleading noises freezing as he sees white and purple through his blurred tear filled vision. He snaps his jaw and gives a deep growl that gets cut off with another scream, he can’t stop pushing and he’s barely made any progress, that he can feel anyways, through the burning mind wiping pain.

“Get the fuck out, hel-” he manages to scream and snarl at her, the beg for help escaping without his permission. The female alpha, that combined with her color scheme and dark skin tone is enough to give him a very clear idea of who has found him. A hero, Miruko, who croons reassurance and takes a step forward as she is muttering something he can't hear, low and fast.

“Leave, fucking bitch. Going to arrest me in labor? Leave me alo-” he screams as the baby moves just that little bit further. Whimpering and unable to even sob afterwards. Rumi leaves, ducking outside the broken door and away from Dabi finally, leaving him free to wail and cry. His hands tremble as he brings them up to his mouth, locked together.

He bites down and pushes with the next contraction, eyes closed and letting his head drop into the nest. He’s just tired and it hurts, he wants it to be done with. Dabi cries as he waits for it to be done, for labor to be over so he cleans up his mess. Go home and crawl into his actual nest, the one that’s small and plush and smells like the league with just the hints of keigo starting to come through. Everything feels wrong and he lets tears pour out of his eyes as his brain keeps giving him the feeling of his baby moving, struggling as hard as he is. He knows it’s not real, it’s just brain signals getting crossed and trying to get him through this. He hasn’t felt any movement in weeks and this is just the last straw. He bears down again, nothing to hold onto and ground him as he whimpers insistently, hating the noise leaving him, blood filling his mouth and making him choke on what he resolves to be his last attempt, he can feel the head stretching and tearing him. He hopes Rumi actually left, he doesn't have the strength to fight off an alpha, won’t even be able to move for several days after this. That’s if his pathetic body can get it together long enough to fight off an infection, at the very least long enough to get him home after he rests. Dabi’s never doing this again, even if by some miracle someone did want him.

part 2 [x]

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savagetrickster · 4 years

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In My Blood | 01

— BNHA BOOKCLUB BINGO EVENT—

— In My Blood —

anime | character: bnha | todoroki shouto x reader (in 3rd PoV)

words: 2.1k

prompt/crossed-out: “Myth AU”

Themes/Warnings: SamuraiShouto, Warring States AU, SengokuEraAU (not accurate at all), angst, romance, fluff, mythology-ish AU, star-crossed lovers theme

Inspiration/Song: too many songs, mostly East Asian songs (Japanese, Korean, Chinese songs) such Gurenge by LiSA, A Thousand Years by Christina Perri, Light Years Away (光年之外) by G.E.M, Crescent Moon Bay (月牙湾) by F.I.R, Ikemen Sengoku Opening Theme - these few stood out to me.

Beta-readers:@bakublossom, @sugacookiies thank you so much girls! <3

Tags: at the bottom of this post <3

— part one

In a region located east of feudal Japan, the lands there were graced with prosperity, flourishing with thriving businesses and rich agriculture.

Secured by the esteemed Todoroki clan, the daimyo ruled with wisdom from within an unshakeable fortress protected by this bloodline of warriors.

Glistening blades of their katana gleaming crimson red, these fiercely loyal and protective warriors living by the bushido - literally translated as the ways of the warrior, fought anyone who tried to bring him down with a ferocious fighting spirit.

Intertwined by a thousand-year-old blood bond — sometimes said to be a sacred oath, sometimes a curse in disguise — made between two sworn brothers was the one that started it all.

Down the lineages, the tenacious connection between the Azue family and the Todoroki clan ran deeper than bones, deeper than blood.

Strong enough to last over thousands of years, tangible and rooted so deep that no amount of time can dissipate it.

Even till today, in the time of the Warring States where chaos and disorder wrecked across feudal Japan, the formidable strength of the Todoroki clan was called on, needed more than ever.

The careful, practiced steps of the servants making their rounds along the veranda connecting the main manor and the Todoroki manor was the sign of a new day in Azue.

The manicured and lush, green garden between the two residences was occasionally disturbed by the guards whose shoulders were subtly tense with caution as they patrolled the premises for unwanted intruders.

The morning sun was barely up, feebly lighting the sky above. The warmth it was meant to emit was still too weak to make any difference in the thick lingering cold left by the waning night.

Even so, the heavy coat of sweat plastering his hair over the clench between his eyebrow was a contradiction to the chilly morning.

“89, 90, 91…”

Powering through his morning training, his countdown to his hundredth swing sifted through his gritted teeth in hisses.

Red and white strands on his head intermingled to every jolt his body made with the swings of the bokken in a pair of hands too young to be calloused and littered with peeling skin.

Lean muscles flexing under the white, wide sleeves of his gi, his piercing eyes had a look of ice and fire in them as the polished wooden sword in his hands slashed through the air with a deadly swift in each swing.

Too immersed in his resolve to press through his daily routine to notice the distant gaze on him.

Curious eyes watching from above a pair of softly curved cheeks blinked in amazement and wonder from the wooden veranda across the courtyard.

Ingrained in her body clock to rise bright and early, the boy training on the other side of the garden was the other reason why she was always sitting on the veranda watching him.

She had been warned against stepping into the other side where the Todoroki clan resided, like a mantra from her father, never understanding why.

That didn’t mean she did not try her luck.

But unfortunately, she wasn’t the best at running in a kimono so the last time she tried to sneak over, her father grounded her to her room for a full week and it was soooo boring.

Being the only kid in the manor, the only company she had was the servants and the stiff, dull adults who spoke harshly in low voices to each other with straight, serious faces.

And occasionally, randomly shouting in booming, passionate voices over a big map she once thought was a paper game board she could join, much to her disappointment.

Living in a manor this dull would drive any twelve-year-old crazy bored, but it definitely beats being in her room for a week!

At least with her allowed to be out and about in the manor, she had the servants to play harmless pranks on and could take the opportunity to tag along with her father’s trusted vassal, Enji-san, on his errands out in town no matter how stiff and grumpy he was.

She couldn’t really be blamed for being so delighted to realize that there was a kid her age on the other side right?

Chin propped on her hand, her eyes slipped over to the pile of buns placed beside her thoughtfully

And back to the boy.

A slow, careful exhale was blown through his lips as the hundredth swing he sliced through the air brought his morning training to an end.

The gi tied around his waist were hanging slightly off his shoulders by the time he was done.

Lowering the bokken to his side, the leg he planted before himself moved back to join his other, breaking the stance that held him steady through the hundred swings.

Beneath the tousled red and white tresses interlacing over his face, heterochromic eyes lowered their gaze to the reddish flush across his palm, watching his hand fold into a fist at the dull ache throbbing across it.

“...Pssst.”

His fingers curling in to meet his palm went stiff along with the eyes on them.

The shoulders he had allowed to sag were set once again, muscles tensing for a battle as how it was etched into him like a natural instinct for the last seven years.

Light and snappy on his feet, the bokken in his hand was raised and was held to the neck his eyes instantly zeroed on the moment he turned.

“—Wait!”

The breath in her lungs jerked out to the wood pressing against the uneasy bob in her throat, her eyes shakily leaving the wood beneath her chin and to his.

Only for her next breath to be caught in her throat.

Under the dual colors on his hair she’d seen enough from the other side, it had never crossed her mind that she would be greeted by the prettiest set of eyes.

Glaring back at her with an icy undertone beneath the mismatching turquoise and gray irises that somehow complimented his face so well, his gaze was the most enigmatic one she’d ever seen, one that seemed blazing enough to burn yet frosty enough to freeze.

Standing at a slightly shorter height, the blinking widened eyes staring back at him from a young cute face was the furthest resemblance from a threat.

And so was the plate of white buns she was trying to balance in her hands.

The intensity in his eyes softened slightly with a vague recognition, apparently realizing she was no threat albeit a stranger.

While he was no longer alarmed, he was still surprised to find a girl about his age behind him. The only girl his age he had ever known in his entire life till now was only Momo who he only saw when she visited with her father.

Her eyes were taken off him at the disappearing pressure on her neck, sighing in relief to find him lowering his arm, the tension in her body dissipating along with his.

Shouto raised his eyes back to her face once more, piecing together the hair cascading loose over her shoulders with a slight hitch at the back of her head looking like she just rolled off bed, and the simple but elegant yukata she underneath on his way up.

Servant? — was the only answer that came to mind.

No, even if he wasn’t so good at remembering the servants they had, he was absolutely sure that he’d never seen her around their manor before.

“Who are you?” Her eyes flickered back to his narrowing ones, ”And what do you want?”

In a voice round and boyish, the underlying edge in his questions forced her to tense again.

Her mouth opened, the intricately crafted introduction that she was painstakingly made to memorize, instantly dispensed onto her tongue.

She cleared her throat.“I’m the-”

Her mouth closed — I’m not even supposed to be here, a warning reminded her — then opened again.

“I’m the daughter of a servant here and I thought you’d be hungry after all that, so I bought you some food.”

An eyebrow arched into his hair.

“It’s only for today though,” Panic at the sight of his expression jostled her to quickly add, “No one’s home so my mother is worried about leaving me there alone.”

Her eyes hastily darted to the buns, “Here, have some.”

When all he did was narrowed his eyes at the plate she extended to him, her eyes rolled heavenwards.

The arched eyebrow straining on his sweaty forehead rose sharply.

Even if she wasn’t under their servitude, it was still pretty daring of her to roll her eyes at him when her livelihood depended on her mother’s job here.

But that didn’t mean he hated it. It was a fresh breeze compared to how stiff their servants acted around him.

Tad amusement followed his eyes as he watched her brush past him to place the plate down on the veranda behind him, brushing any existing dirt off her hands before grabbing one off the pile.

The doughy flesh of the bun split open in her hands, the remaining heat inside it leaving instantly as curling steam.

Shouto cringed inwardly to the grumble his empty stomach emitted immediately at the tempting sight.

A slight blush tinted his cheeks at the very unladylike snort he thought he heard from her.

His eyes left the bun in her grasp and to her face, the slight tint on his face growing brighter.

Apparently, from the amusement playing on her smiling lips, she very well did.

“Go on, take it,” Her eyes danced at him as she bit into her half of the bun, offering the other half to him.

His eyes wavered with uncertainty.

“Look I’m eating too,” The exasperated sigh she blew between her lips ended with a chuckle leaving her at his indecisiveness, “so it’s not poisonous.”

Shouto averted his eyes away bashfully, finally reaching out his hand to accept the bun.

“...Thanks.”

It was as if every sound that escaped his mother’s mouth was set to the frequency that would shatter his heart to pieces again and again and again.

As if those weren’t enough, the ugly, dark bruises scattered across her pale, delicate skin where her floral kimono couldn’t hide were relentless stabs driven into him every time his gaze fell onto one - these were the retelling of where Todoroki Enji’s hands went.

What did his scumbag of a father do to her this time?

Every fibre in him wanted to comfort her but the wisps of doubt in his head rooted him by the sliding doors separating his parents’ chamber from the veranda.

His heart, his soul, his body wanted to go over.

But how could he?

He was the product of her sufferings. His comfort was meaningless no matter how he looked at himself or his actions, when his very existence was the reminder of the pain she’d been placed through.

The pain she thought she hid well in her gentle smiling eyes, her soft touches and affection across his skin...

Sometimes it still baffled him how she could still spare him any love. Always ripping wounds of guilt that should not even belong to him.

Shouto moved anyway, his legs shedding off the hesitance holding him back as he strode forward.

The tears dripping between her slender fingers rained down on the tatami floor beneath her crumbled form as Rei remained oblivious to her son’s presence until his two small feet entered her tearful quivering vision.

Her head shot up, eyes widening.“...Shou-”

“What did he do this time?” Amongst his own tears running down his cheeks, the look on his face churned an unnerving twinge in her chest.

The rage in his gaze held all the power of a wildfire, roaring in his eyes. The powerful anger and dark grudge shaking in the innocent tint his young voice possessed was unbecoming for a twelve-year-old.

And it broke her heart.

“Oh Shouto,” Rei brought her arms around his stiff form and hugged him to her, “I’m sorry...I’m so sorry.”

She had never meant for him to see her tears; the poor boy was too young to be shoved into adult matters.

Too young for his childhood to be robbed away, just so that he could shoulder the duty of a Todoroki that awaited him at sixteen.

“No, Okaa-sama,” His jaw clenched to his gritting teeth against her trembling frame, ”... I’m sorry.”

A flame curled in the pit of his stomach as a steel glint of promise gleamed amidst the fire in his eyes.

“I swear I’ll train as hard as I can,” His piercing eyes were like the blade of a bloodied katana, “And when I’m strong enough…”

Rising up to his chest and crawling through his veins, the heat of his hatred rolled off him.

For his father.

For the Todoroki clan he had the misfortune to be born into.

For the Azue family.

And especially so, for the woman he was meant...no, made to protect in the future.

“....I will cut us loose and we will never have to look back again.”

| Next (in progress)

Tags: @shoutodoki, @hanniejji, @bakublossom, @sugacookiies, @ererokii, @wesparklebitch, @prismaroyal, @apricotjihyo, @morenabambinii, @warriorsofficial, @hanmarazon, @sauce-pansexuals, @justsomekid00, @lilcura1209, @ewwis, @winkenthusiastic, @thegalxe, @yurioseokies, @jinks-world, @platinumbelle, @wakaoujisenhime, @z-iridest, @bnhabookclub

#todoroki shouto #shouto x reader #bnha shouto #mha shouto #bnha todoroki #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto todoroki #mha shoto todoroki #bnha shoto #shoto torodoki #bnhabookclub #bnhabookclub bingo event

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fritae · 3 years

Text

The Missing Piece (Chapter 12)

Closer.

gang! au / ceo! au

characters: dabi x f. oc, lov

status: ongoing

read on ao3 here.

a/n: i really like this chapter heh, hope u enjoy! 😚

The staircase leads all the way to basement. I wondered why they would hide such steep, hidden steps in Dabi's office when they could create (much) shorter, more accessible ones from the first floor.

But I'm guessing that's the point.

This isn't supposed to be easy to reach. And Dabi's office is the one place no one would dare enter.

Aside from us, of course.

The basement is completely dark, forcing me to draw myself even closer to Dabi. I enjoy the weight of his hand in mine. He has a firm, tight grip. But just as the thought warms my cheeks, I shake it out of my head.

Within seconds, Dabi turns on the lights.

My eyes widen, taking in the sight before me.

Blood.

A lot of it.

Though it looks dried, like it's been there for ages.

I spot a wall of different sized knives on one hand. A gun display on the other. A shelf of jars, filled with a murky looking liquid and...I don't even want to know what that is inside.

Dabi watches me.

There's a simple, plastic white table in the center of the floor with a large white board behind it.

The place is much messier and less...classy, than the rest of the Blaze.

But I have the feeling it's because it's not meant for outside eyes.

"You okay?" Dabi asks.

I nod, squeezing his hand to comfort myself.

Before the others reach the bottom, he whispers in my ear, "Whenever you want to leave, let me know. You don't have to be here."

"Okay."

"And," He takes another glance at the stairs as the others begin to appear. "Again, Rina. This place does not exist. Anything we say here does not leave this room. Got it?"

I glance warily at the knives.

"Why are you so worried?" I try to smile so he doesn't pick up on my nervousness. "I don't have anyone outside of you guys anyway. Who would I talk to?"

My comment seems to confuse him. "What about-"

"Welcome to the League!!" Toga jumps off the last few steps and swings into full view.

I shoot Dabi a look. "The League?"

"The League of Villains, of course!" Atsuhiro follows Toga, a dramatic grin on his lips. "Only the baddest group of bad boys in town."

"And girls!" Toga calls out.

"League of Villains?" I cackle. "Who came up with that?"

Tenko scowls.

Oop.

Dabi lets go of my hand and motions for me to take a seat on one of the plastic chairs.

I pick a red chair near the board.

"So what is that you guys really do?"

"I told you," Dabi says. "Special services to people willing to pay up."

Given where we are, that suddenly feels a lot more sinister than it did when he first told me.

I look back at the knives and jars in the background.

"So like, a gang? Where you steal things and hurt people if someone pays you enough? Like the movies?"

"Guess you could put it that way."

"And there's actually people that pay for this stuff?"

Dabi shrugs. "It's a niche market."

Woah.

There's a lot more questions in my head, but now is not the time. Maybe later.

As Dabi moves to take a seat, his abdomen brushes against the edge of the table and he hisses in pain.

It releases blood again.

"Fuck!" He grips the skin.

I move closer to him, gripping his hands again. "It still hurts?" I ask worriedly. "Is there anything we can do?" I look around at the others quickly.

"Yes!" Toga says, a little too eagerly.

"What is it?"

She hops over to knives behind us, and takes a moment deciding which one she wants.

She brandishes a short but sharp blade and lets out an excited squeal, as though she enjoyed this.

"Fire please!" She calls out.

What's she doing?

Dabi groans and pulls a lighter out of his pocket. He tosses it toward her, and she carefully holds it under the edge of the blade, running it up and down for several minutes until it turns red.

She's going to seal the wound so it doesn't get infected.

"Lie down, boss," She says in a sing-song voice.

I clear the few papers were scattered on the table and move so Dabi could spread himself over it.

He lifts the edge of his shirt to his midriff, and my breath catches in my throat when I see his abdomen.

The skin is covered in large swaths of reddish purple.

Like parts of it were burnt off...

I gasp.

"These are old," Dabi looks at me. He's watching me carefully, wanting to see just how I'd react. "Still want to be here?"

I swallow my anxiety as I stare at Dabi's mismatched skin. I won't give him the chance to say 'I told you so.'

This must be why he wouldn't let me dress the wound.

He didn't want me to see this.

No wonder the stab didn't phase him.

What else has his body been through...

"Here I come!" Toga grins.

She was all too eager to take the scorching knife and press it to his stomach.

Dabi clenches his teeth immediately, leaving me to hurriedly stand next to him. I squeeze his hand to soothe him, but he grips mine back so hard I think he might break it.

I brush his hair out of eyes and press my hand to his forehead to calm him.

"It's okay," I tell him softly. "It's over."

The others stare at Dabi's wound uncomfortably, like they've been under Toga's knife before.

I wonder if they have similar wounds.

Dabi releases his harsh grip on my hand and begins to breathe slower.

One things strikes me though.

Despite all the pain he's undoubtedly feeling right now, not a single tear drops from his eyes.

I think it might just be him trying not to appear weak in front of us.

But as I look into his eyes, I'm surprised to find them completely dry.

"Are you superhuman or something?" I joke with him.

He looks at me quizzically.

"All of that and you didn't cry?"

Dabi closes his eyes. "I don't cry." He grits his teeth.

I roll my eyes.

Whatever you say.

The others slowly help him sit up straight. I take the first aid kit from Atsuhiro, picking out the cotton, gauze and antibacterial wipes.

Dabi is less reluctant when I try to wrap the area this time.

"You can hold onto me if you want," I tease as I wrap the gauze around his body.

A small smirk appears on his lips. His arm suddenly snakes around my waist, pulling me close to him.

I blush and the gauze falls out of my hands.

Dabi tilts his head. "What's wrong? Thought you wanted me to hold onto you?"

The guys snicker behind us.

I push him away from me, and he laughs as I take another piece of gauze and try again.

"You guys can talk now," I tell them focused on what I'm doing. "What exactly happened today?

Did Mr. Lane find out about the League? Is that what made you a target?"

Dabi is silent.

His silence puzzles me. I look to the others to see if they knew anything.

"Dabi tried blowing up his car!" Toga volunteers.

I frown.

Could this be just because of how Mr. Lane treated me?

No. There's no reason for it to mean that much to Dabi.

Enough to get angry, sure.

To harm Mr. Lane?

Doubtful.

"Why would you blow up his car?" I ask.

Tenko pulls up a chair. "We did some research on him. He's working with some really shady people. And Dabi told us about the whole Todoroki affair."

I shoot Dabi a look.

"They're trying to trick people into thinking they're heroes. That they should be put on a pedestal and admired. There's people out there telling their kids to be like them. Meanwhile they're going around-"

"Enough," Dabi interrupts Tenko. "Point is, they're fakes. They built up their media empires off that fake image. And we're going to expose them."

"But you guys are also doing...you know," I don't know how to say it in a way that isn't offensive. "I mean, you tried blowing up his car. And I'm guessing you probably have done more...if I'm not reaching."

Their eyes harden.

"We never pretended to be good."

I know I should stay silent, but I keep going.

"Right, but you have a double image too. There's the Blaze, and then there's the League."

They shake their heads.

"The Blaze is to funnel money into the League. Yeah, sure it's a front, but those who need our services know where to find us. We can't have masses of people finding out about the other shit we do, can we?"

"But how did this all start? What are you trying to achieve?"

"We just hate hypocrites. We'll help a bad guy to bring down a worse guy. Those that act like angels in public are our favorite targets. I don't care if we have to steal, blackmail, or kill them," Dabi's eyes shine with evil. "Whatever it takes to beat their egos down. Reveal the private faces they hide. Until they're forced to show their bloody hands before the world. Someone like Enji is using Lane for media coverage. Lane is depending on him for protection and cash. We can take them both down."

"What if you get caught?"

He dismisses the question, like it's not even worth his time. "By who?" He scoffs. "Lane? As soon as we take down Enji, Lane's done for. Since he's your old boss, we can give you leeway with how badly you want us to go after him." Dabi says this like that's what I'm genuinely concerned about right now. "Lane's a scared little prick anyway, as soon as he saw me he bounced out of the car and screamed for protection." He laughs like he can picture Mr. Lane's pathetic position as we speak. "But he'll fall. Just like the rest of them."

"I meant the police, Dabi."

The question puzzles him as if he's never considered it before. But the look in his eyes tells me they're even less of a concern than Mr. Lane.

"Don't worry about that," He says. "That's the least of our problems, to be honest."

I nod.

I let them speak uninterrupted for the rest of the night. They have business to take care of, and if I keep asking questions like this, they'll never get to finish. It's enough that they waited all day for me to leave so they could start. Can't hold them up at night as well.

The Todoroki name was brought up several times, among others. It seems strange now, considering Dabi knows it was Mr. Lane's relations with Enji that led to me leaving the company the way I did. Turns out he knows a lot more about Enji than I do.

I try to keep track of the other names as well, but there's so many and I'm so tired, I can barely keep up.

"Here's where Rina comes in," Dabi continues.

My eyes widen at the mention of my name.

"Enji's using Lane for his image. Rina, you said they were working on a movie or something?"

"A documentary, yes."

"We need to make sure that shit doesn't air."

I bite my lip, trying to remember as much information as I could about the documentary. It was supposed to air already. I remember Mr. Lane saying it would be within the month.

But it hasn't yet.

Which means I need to find out more from Al.

"My roommate still works at NNTV. She's the floor manager so she might have some idea of what's going on. I can ask her."

"You sure you can trust her?" Dabi asks with a frown.

"Well, I'm not gonna tell her any details, she's the one that's gonna need to have trust in me, no?"

Atsuhiro cracks his knuckles and rubs his neck. "I don't know, I don't like the sound of that. We have our own ways of finding stuff out so-"

"It won't hurt to try," I insist, looking at Dabi since he's the one that has final say on these matters. "Having 2 avenues of information is better than 1."

Truth be told, I just want to feel useful. I want to feel like I have a role to play, not just that I'm here to "sit and watch".

I want them to feel good about me being here, not apprehensive about whether this was a good decision.

After some deliberation, Dabi sighs. He looks to the others for input. "Might as well?"

"I mean she's here," Tenko says monotonously. "Might as well use her."

Dabi nods and then turns to me. "Just don't be stupid with it. Lead her into the conversation, don't bring it up out of nowhere. She'll be curious about why you're bringing it up. Don't say anything that'll make her ask questions. The more questions she asks you, the more suspicious she'll be."

"Relax guys, I got this." I smile. "Besides, she's a chatterbox. She'll open up at the slightest nudge and go on forever. She's the one that told me about all the.." I grimace. "..issues with the Todoroki company."

Plus, she's my friend! Of course, I can trust her. We've been roommates for years. If anyone could tell me about Mr. Lane's current plans for the documentary, it'd be her.

"So it's settled!" Toga claps. She takes a marker and goes up to the white board, drawing a flow chart with all that's been discussed today. She adds my part last, circling my name and underlining it several times for emphasis, over a big red INTEL SOURCING.

The sight of that makes me smile, like I have a role to play in all of this. I look around at the others but they're all preoccupied with moving things around and discussing their own parts.

The lack of enthusiasm isn't surprising, I mean this is normal for them.

But all I can think of is how exciting it'll be if I have something to contribute the next time we meet. If they'll call me down, and look at me expectantly. I imagine the looks on their faces with glee and the thought almost makes me giddy.

"Okay, are we done here?" Dabi asks.

A bunch of 'yes'es and 'yup's fill the basement.

"Alright then," Dabi grabs a leather jacket from on the wall and checks to make sure his keys are inside. Then he walks my way and grabs my arm.

"Time for you to go home," He says, moving me in front of him.

"But-"

"Now," His eyes narrow. He moves his head in a silent nudge, telling me to turn around and make my way upstairs.

The others watch us curiously, and Toga lets out a snicker at my expense.

"I'm jealous!" She calls after us. "Wish I had someone to drive me home!"

Dabi groans, nudging me to keep moving.

"Bye guys," I wave back at them from halfway up the steps. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

They all wave warmly and I can't help thinking how grateful I am that they trusted me with this.

It feels so weird emerging out of Dabi's office like this, from a secret path that leads deep under the building. But Dabi simply presses another tile in the walls, and the entrance reseals itself, as though it never existed.

We make our way to his car, and I hurry to catch up to him. The height difference certainly doesn't help.

He unlocks the car and slides into the driver's seat. I follow into the passenger's seat and shift awkwardly in my place.

"Where do you live?" He asks as he readjusts his rearview mirror. No sooner had I told him the address, than he revved the engine and sped away from the Blaze.

The ride is quiet for a while. Regrettably so. Dabi hands me a box of disinfectants to wipe the blood off my hands. I wonder how many times he's had to do the same thing before coming into the office.

I fiddle with the hems of my shirts as I try to think of something to talk about. Dabi doesn't seem to be in as big of a rush to speak, his eyes darting from the rearview to the side mirrors periodically as we cruise down the mostly empty highway.

"Dabi?"

"Hm."

"When they said you were gone today, were you really in the basement the whole time?"

Dabi takes a moment to answer. "After I got back, yeah. Couldn't exactly walk through the front doors looking the way I did." He glances at me before switching lanes.

"Were you avoiding me?"

"Partly."

I nod. "Now that I know about the League, do you think you'd avoid me in a case like this again?"

"A case like this won't happen again."

"Okay." I respond quietly. "Cause you know I get worried."

Dabi seems to be deep in thought.

"You worry a lot for someone who's only met me a month ago."

I smile. "Well, of course. We're friends aren't we?"

Dabi spares me a look before switching lanes again. "Right." But he doesn't look like he fully believes me.

"You think you'll be able to handle your friend?" He changes the subject.

"Who, Aliyah? Of course! I told you, we're really good friends and she's the kind of person that loves gossiping anyway. It'll be a piece of cake."

He grunts. "Okay. Because to be honest, that's part of why I wanted you at the Blaze."

I don't know why hearing that makes me feel slightly sad, but it does. "The documentary?"

"Yeah. I mean you work in the media industry. You'd know about that stuff. People like Enji have the industry wrapped around their palms. When you told me he was cozying up to NNTV, I figured you'd be the person to handle all of that for me."

I nod. "So why haven't you asked me before today?" Come to think of it, he even sounded reluctant about agreeing.

"I don't know," He sighs. "Still not sure I want you mixed up with all of this."

I roll my eyes. "I'm not even a member, remember? I'm just getting information for you," I tease. "What's so dangerous about that?"

"That's what worries me," Dabi glances at me, his brows pulled together. "That's all you see it as."

"What am I supposed to see it as?"

"What it is," Dabi gets increasingly agitated, but he tries to keep himself calm. "I'm not sure you're taking this seriously enough, Rina. The closer you get to us, the more at risk you are. The more people that know you work for me, especially what kind of work," He looks dead serious. "The more danger you'll be in."

I roll my eyes. "But no one knows anything about you, Dabi. I've been here for a month and I'm only just finding out about all of this. And I'm sure there's much more I don't know. How would people outside of the League even find out?"

"Same way we find out shit about them. Lane's using his Todoroki connections to supply him with information and protection. They're good at what they do."

My mouth drops. "You mean the Todorokis know about you?"

"Well," Dabi's jaw hardens. "They think they do."

I wait for him to say more, but he leaves it at that. We ride the rest of the distance in silence.

Once we pull up in front of my apartment complex, I try to put a smile on my face.

"Thanks Dabi." I tell him as I unlock the door.

He nods without looking at me. "See you tomorrow."

Those words trigger me immediately and I let go of the handle.

"Don't say that."

Dabi looks confused.

"You said that yesterday and had no intention of seeing me." I cross my arms. "You broke your promise."

"Don't be dramatic, no one says that shit as a promise."

"See you tomorrow means I'll see you tomorrow," I tell him seriously. "Otherwise, just say goodbye or something else."

He leans his head forward against the steering wheel and sighs. "It's just a stupid phrase, you're overthinking it."

I frown.

"See you tomorrow," He gives up. But still, I don't leave.

"I mean it!" He says. "I. Will. See. You. Tomorrow. Good enough?"

I grin. "Mhm, thank you!" I lean over to give him a quick hug before I leave, and he immediately recoils, like my body was made of ice.

"Handsy, aren't you," He mutters, craning his neck to look at me, without getting too close.

I pull away.

"Always have to ruin the moment, don't you," I counter, slightly disappointed. I turn to open the door, and suddenly feel him pull me back in.

"How do you do that?" His voices comes out low and raspy.

I look into his eyes. "Do what?"

There's that frustration in his eyes again.

"Fucking making me feel bad about shit I'd never fucking feel bad about." He growls.

The way he says it makes me blush.

"Cut that shit out."

"Yes sir," I mumble.

He leans his head back.

Then, he hesitantly opens his arms.

I shake my head, pulling my purse over my shoulder again. "Not gonna force you to do something you don't want to do."

I open the door this time, and just as I'm about to step out of his car, he pulls my arm again - harder this time, and I fall back into the bend of his arm.

My heart is pounding faster. I shake my hair from my face to get a better look at Dabi in the dark.

"Why are you so much fucking work," He mutters, his face inches away from mine. I swallow.

He leans forward to hug me closer to his chest. The leather jacket feels surprisingly smooth against my cheek, and my hand finds the back of his seat to balance myself, careful of coming near his wound. He holds me to him for a few long breaths and I smile against his chest, knowing he can't see me right now.

When we pull away, I look at his face once more. But Dabi avoids my gaze.

"You don't have to play along with me," I tell him, a teasing smile on my lips. "I'll only expect more from you next time."

"See you tomorrow," He mumbles, still without facing me. His foot is on the brakes but he's already pulling the gear shift into Drive.

And then, just before I leave for good and with no time to think this through -

I press my lips on his cheek.

Dabi's eyes widen immediately and he looks at me in alarm. "What-"

"Bye Dabi!" I wave with a laugh as I hurry out of his car. I run to the door of my building, grateful for the dark to hide my red cheeks.

Dabi remains in front of the building for a moment, his head still turned my way in shock.

I close the door behind me but hurry to the window, peeking the corner of my head out just in time to catch him shaking his head and rubbing a tired hand across his eyes.

There's no way to describe the relief and warmth in my chest, when he eventually pulls out of his spot.

But just before he can drive off, I swear I feel him smirk at the window.

As if he can hear the adrenaline thrumming in my veins.

#dabi #touya todoroki #dabi x oc #dabi fanfic #dabi angst #dabi fic #dabi fluff #dabi x female reader #touya fluff #bnha fic #mha #bnha #league of villains #dabi is a todoroki #dabi is touya #touya x y/n #bnha touya #tw: mentions of blood

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pillow-anime-talk · 4 years

Text

scarfs.

synopsis: Bakugo, Todoroki, Kaminari and Kirishima getting as a gift a handmade scarf from their crush.

# tags: scenarios; U.A!au; crush culture; super fluff; super soft; super cute; sfw

includes: female readet ft. katsuki bakugo, shoto todoroki, denki kaminari & eijirou kirishima {bnha}

author’s note: again, thank you for request, @aa--leksandra!!!

— KATSUKI

“What the fuck. Who’s there?”

These were the first words Bakugo said when you knocked on his door and with a big smile gave him a small package wrapped around in colorful paper with smol presents and fireworks on the edges.

“What is it?”

“A gift, don’t you see? It’s for you, Katsuki.” You smiled gently. “Can I come in? I want to see your reaction for this.”

Bakugo frowned while letting you into his room in the class-shared dorm.

When you entered the room, you looked around. Although you have been here many times, you still admired the cleanliness in Baku's room. And also you admired this small picture in the frame on his desk, which depicted the two of you.

“What occasion is this gift?” You heard a quiet, slightly uncertain question. “Anniversary of our friendship or something like that shit?”

“No, you fool. It’s April 20. Are you dumb?”

“Huh?”

“Your birthday... idiot. Then, yes. Happy birthday, Katsuki!” You screamed joyfully, clapping your small hands. “Open, open now. Please!”

Bakugo stood shocked, completely unsuspecting of ever getting a present from someone. Not counting his parents, of course. But you weren’t his mom or dad, you’re his... crush. His fucking ideal girl who he crushed from over a year. Getting a present from you was like a marriage proposal with him in his eyes. Of course he was moved, although he tried not to show it (as always in your presence, by the way).

When he ripped colored paper and took out a few chocolates and soft material, he looked at you questioningly. However, you stood quietly, just blushing on your cheeks.

“This is...”

“Scarf! I made it by myself! Expand it.” You told him, so he did it quikly. A green scarf with the black inscription ‘Ground Zero’ looked extremely charming in his eyes. He didn’t even realize that you could do this kind of things...

“It’s really...”

“Yeah. I know, you don’t like shit like this so much, but I thought you would need it... Especially during the winter, when you’ll have to warm up to be stronger during the fight or training...” You muttered quietly, at which Bakugo smiled softly.

“I can get shit like this from you for every birthday, Y/N. Thank you.”

You quickly came up to him and hugged his body smelling of delicate, coconut gel. Katsuki felt his cheeks turn as red as the caption on the green material...

Damn. So, it’s his turn to surprise you and maybe... invite you on a date... haha, just kidding... unless...?

— SHOTO

Shoto didn’t like Christmas. Maybe in totally another family this special time would been really nice, but not at the moment when his father was Enji and his mother was still in the hospital on the other side of town. Or if his siblings was be in one place... not as currently, when Toya disappeared few years ago, Fuyumi worked in school from morning to the evening, and Natsuo had his private life and studies. That's the reason why Todoroki was hate Christmas, New Year Eve, and every other holiday like his own birthday or Children's Day.

Anyway. It was supposed to be the first Christmas in U.A High School. He didn’t wait for this day, unlike some people in 1-A Class like Uraraka, Mineta and Kirishima were charged with too much energy. But he? Shoto looked at everything with tired eyes, thinking about the excuse to not spend this time with friends, carols and gingerbreads.

The day before Christmas Eve all people of your class organized a huge supper in the main room. Sato prepared delicious cakes, Mina, Bakugo and you took care of cooking dishes. Kaminari and Sero decorated the room, while Izuku with Shoji’s help had decorated a Christmas tree... and Momo and Tsui was cleaned the living room before. Everything looked really beautiful... Yet Shoto couldn’t enjoy it at all.

Right, admiring your person in an apron and a soft smile on your face was pleasant, but it was the only thing that Shoto noticed. Therefore, at one point he put the newspaper on the table next to the sofa and stood up, directing his person to his own room.

Hardly anyone paid any attention to him, but you (as befits a good, pure soul) wanted to follow him to asked what happened. Bakugo’s voice, however, stopped you from doing this thing.

“Leave this two-shitty-haired-color boy alone, Y/N. If he wants, he’ll come back to us later.”

“Yes, but...” You sighed quietly, unbuttoning your white apron. “Give me a moment, Baku. And look after the pasta, please!”

“She’s stupid or what. The Todo-Lion will kill her.” The pink girl whispered. Bakugo shrugged and went back to cooking.

At the same time, you went to your room for a gift that you made with your own hands. You knew that Shoto didn’t like Christmas and didn’t feel their magic, but even this didn’t stop you from making a warm scarf in a color who’s matches with his hero’s outfit. Anyway... You wanted to give something to your sympathy, that’s all.

You liked Todoroki, so that’s why you wanted to give him something. Holidays were, of course, a good reason to do it.

When you knocked on your friend’s room, your heart sped up slightly. And when Shoto dressed in black turtleneck opened the door for you and raised an eyebrow, because he not expecting anyone, especially your visit.

“Can I go inside?” You asked, and the heterochromic boy opened the door wider. When you got inside you immediately looked at his face. “I know you don’t like Christmas... And I also know that you don’t like getting anything from someone, but I thought...” You gave him a paper, silver bag. “... this would be super useful for you in this time of the year. I didn’t know what to buy, so ultimately I did something by myself. I hope you like it... If not, it’s okay! I can do something completely different for you... Like gloves or a beanie. “

Shoto opened both his eyes widely and then a bag with a woolen blue scarf inside.

Shoto.exe has stopped working.

“T-This is... for me?”

“Yes. It’s Christmas, Shoto. Soooo, Merry Christmas!”

“Thank you... But... I have nothing for you, Y/N... I’m sorry...”

“It’s alright. You can hug me or smile to me as a thank you. I think this will be the best present.” You said cheerfully, opening your arms.

Todoroki hugged you tightly to his chest and even gave you a little kiss on the forehead. You stood cuddled up in him for a few minutes, and he thought about confessing love to you at the same time.

Maybe... now after the Christmas dinner?

— DENKI

“Hey, Mina? Ummm... Do you know where’s Kaminari?” You came up to the girl who was sitting on the big sofa in the main room and playing on the PlayStation with Uraraka and Toru.

“No...” She murmured in surprise. “Is something wrong that you’re looking for him?”

“Nothing special. Denki has just been sad since recently, so I just wanted to take him for a walk and to the cafe.”

Ashido opened her mouth to say something, but Eijiro’s hand rested on your shoulder. “He’s behind our dorm. When I bypassed him, he said he was going to rest or something like that.”

“Oh!” You breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Kirishima!” You said quickly, equally quickly you left the four students and heading towards the exit from the dorm. At that moment, Mina noticed the small package in your hands and, of course, she knew what this could mean... Would you finally decided to reveal your feelings to Kaminari? It seemed interesting move in the pink girl’s eyes.

However, you fast found a golden-haired boy with a lightning bolt-shaped streak of black who’s sat on a bench under a large, oak tree. From a distance, you saw his bored expression and the dark circles under his eyes that appeared on his face three days ago.

As a good friend, you wanted to improve Denki’s mood. You weren’t very good at these matters, but thanks to watching a lot of TV series and movies you remembered some friendly habits. One of them was just giving presents and taking the other person to the coffee shop or food bar.

“Denki?” You started quietly because you didn’t want to scare him. When the yellow boy noticed you, he immediately moved his head and brought a smile on his own face.

“Y/N! Hi!” He answered loudly, so you rolled your eyes. “Something happened?”

“I’m the one, who should ask this question.”

The boy looked at you questioningly, but without a word you sat next to him with a gift in your lap. You quickly opened a light, thin paper and pulled out a downy, dark-yellow scarf with small, black lightnings. You slowly wrapped the material around your friend’s neck and smiled softly to him.

“You’ve been in a worse mood for a long time, so I decided to help you a little. I would like you to know that you’ll always find support in me and if something happens, tell me about it, okay?”

“Y/N...” Denki grabbed the edge of a two-colored scarf and ran one finger over it.

“I did it for two days, so you better appreciate it!”

“You made it by yourself?! You shouldn’t...” His cheeks turns red.

“Of course I should. You’re in a bad and nasty humor. If it happens again, I can sew you a socks next time... Now, get up.”

Kaminari looked at you with another question mark painted on his face. “What? Why?”

“We’re going to a cafe. And later we’ll go to a pizzeria or on a burgers! I’m soooo hungry. You too, right?” You turned the other way to hide the cherry pigment on your skin, while he lowered his head, blushing even more.

“Ummm... So, this is a date?” He asked uncertainly when his heart was beating louder and faster than usual. This isn’t surprising... he liked you a lot. Is it possible that a girl like you also liked him in THIS way...?

“Y-Yeah. Why not? So, come. Our date will get away, Denki!”

Oooh myYyyY GOddD.

— EIJIRO

Kirishima stood with Tetsutetsu and paid no attention to the world around him. No wonder... After all, it was the end of the school year for the all last classes in U.A. High School, and Tetsutetsu was his friend for last three years. He had to say goodbye to him and then to his own class, 3-A.

You stood alone on the other side the corridor and waited for Kirishima to come back to you and the rest of your friends. But yet, you sighed quietly and returned to class, taking a seat on the bench, which in a few minutes, after the last speech of Mr. Aizawa will cease to be yours. It’s too sad.

Next to your leg lay your bag in which there was a small present for Eijiro. Of course, you couldn’t finish school without giving him anything. Or not confessed the feelings that had developed in you since almost the beginning of education.

The last bell was a godsend for you and other 3-A students. Kirishima returned to class and you looked at him with a smol smile. He decided to approach you. Thanks to that, some courage gathered within you. You reached for your bag and then pulled the red-haired boy to the back of the classroom.

“Something happened, Y/N? We’re finishing in a moment. After that, we can talk.” He started uncertainly, but you shook your head.

“Later I may not do it at all...” You started shyly, taking a small gift for Kirishima out of the black bag. “It’s for you. For at the end of education and... everything else.”

“Huh? For me?” He asked in shock, accepting the gift. “Thank you, but... I have nothing for you...”

“I don’t want anything in return, Eiji.” You said it lightly and then took a deep breath. “Anyway... I also wanted to say that I like you. Since... Since for a long time. Before we finished this school and we will go to other universities, I wanted to tell you that. I would regret if I kept it to myself.” You added, looking at the floor in the classroom. Kirishima’s eyes widened.

This can’t be true.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, yes. It’s a little bit embarrassing, but I prefer to confess it to you.”

THIS CAN’T BE TRUE.

You not only gave him a super soft and red scarf, which perfectly matched his costume and the whole idea of ‘Red Riot’, but you also admitted that you like him! Eijiro was shocked. SO SHOCKED.

“Woah... I don’t know what to say...” He started and you blushed. ”I mean... I like you from the first day of school and I was always afraid that you don’t like me in this way. And now something like this... This scarf is the most manly thing I’ve ever seen! I will proudly wear it. And well... What I’ll say is probably a little bit embarrassing too, but... Do you want to go on a date with me? I don’t know where yet, but together we’ll come up with something!”

“Y-Yes. Eiji, I...”

“Y/L/N, Kirishima. Take your places now. You two will go on date and talked about this after the last class meeting.”

At the sound of Mr. Aizawa’s voice and words, you and Eijiro became as red as the scarf. At the same time, the rest of the class who’s came back, started laugh at two of you.

#— 🍓#bnha #bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha x y/n #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki scenarios #bakugou x reader #todoroki shoto #todoroki shoto scenarios #todoroki shoto x reader #denki kaminari #denki kaminari scenarios #denki kaminari x reader #eijiro kirishima #eijiro kirishima scenarios #kirishima eijiro x reader

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junionigiri · 5 years

Text

Just Another Secretary Story - Chapter 1 - For the first time in nine years

Summary: Todoroki Shouto is the young hotshot executive of Endeavor, Inc, talented in many ways but clueless in plenty of aspects outside of work. Uraraka Ochako is his reliable secretary for the past nine years--driven, hardworking, never complaining, a perfect subordinate who does all of his bidding without question. They have a perfect, harmonious relationship together-- that is, until the night Secretary Uraraka tells him, "I'd like to quit my job."

Rating: T

[for safri -- happy birthday! I know it’s been a while since I wrote something so I might be rusty, but I sure hope you still enjoy this.]

Secretary Uraraka Ochako, 29 years old, single, finds herself at the home of award-winning actress Yaoyorozu Momo. She has a bouquet of yellow roses in her arms and a smile that tries its best to deny her pollen allergies.

It’s not the best place in the world, but this isn’t the worst thing she’s had to do all week.

Yaomomo, as her fans and stans have affectionately named her, gives her that award-winning smile and a curious tilt of the head. “Uraraka-san! What a pleasant surprise! What brings you here all across town? And all by yourself?”

Ochako gives her the sunniest smile she can muster as the actress relieves her of the armful of allergens, thanking all the gods that she hasn’t sneezed her soul out all over the celebrity. “Director Todoroki is otherwise occupied at the moment. However, he did not want to miss the opportunity to be the first to greet you on your recent best actress nomination, so he sent me here for a visit.”

“Is that so?” Momo regards the bouquet with grace, slender fingers picking up the greeting card within it. “And this is from Shouto too, I suppose.”

“Yes ma’am,” Ochako says, as Momo reads the message within the card. You are a beautiful person inside out. Congratulations. S.T. A very personal message, one that Ochako had deliberated upon and hand-wrote carefully on the ride to the agency.

“That’s sweet of you,” Momo says with a serene smile. Putting down the bouquet next to her, she looks at Ochako with a knowing raise of one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “You have something else to say.”

Ochako exhales slowly and gives an executive sort of nod. “Yes, ma’am. Unfortunately.”

She pauses to give the actress a moment to brace herself, yet Momo seems more than prepared for this moment as she only motions for her to continue. Well, if she is that prepared, at least they won’t be wasting any more time. Without the smile wavering from her face, Ochako announces, “While it pains him to do so, Director Todoroki would like to inform you that he cannot see you anymore. He wishes you all the best in your future aspirations.”

She says all of this in a polite, even tone, akin to how one would give a performance report at a business meeting. Funnily enough, Momo listens to her as if she were in the same meeting too--merely an executive at the other end of the table, keeping her composure despite news of her investments dropping in value.

“Is that so,” Momo says after a beat of silence. Inhaling quietly, no doubt counting one to ten in her head, she shakes her head and gives another smile, albeit a pained one. Yet, too graceful than the situation deserved. “Thank you for going all this way to tell me this, Uraraka-san.”

This isn’t the first time Ochako had to do this. After all, it has been exactly thirty days since Yaomomo and Todoroki Shouto, the young Executive Director of Endeavor Inc., started officially dating. Thirty days of going out in formal events and stuffy parties, smiling politely for the cameras and answering insipid questions about their relationship for the magazines, dealing with paparazzi and the unsavory showbiz rumor mill.

It has also been thirty days of Director Todoroki subtly pushing Momo’s hands off of his arm as soon as the cameras are away, and thirty days of Ochako buying the actress jewelry on behalf of her boss and his credit card to keep her happy.

Ochako came prepared for the worst. She’d had to deal with meltdowns and insults and threats to her employer’s good name. All things considered, Yaoyorozu Momo simply removing the 18-karat white gold diamond encrusted necklace that Director Todoroki gave her during the last awards ceremony is one of the most elegant ways to handle rejection that Ochako has ever seen.

“All in all, I expected this,” the actress tells her in a careful tone. “It must have been a bad sign that it was our fathers who pushed us into this relationship. I wonder if I could have done more to keep him interested, though.”

Dammit, she’s too good for this. Ochako finds herself wondering if she could have done more to convince Director Todoroki to think about this further. Then again, it isn’t worth the argument. Her boss has always insisted that relationships are a distraction from his work, and simply an inefficient way to spend his time.

Ochako smiles at her, sincerely this time. “Yaoyorozu-san, it isn’t you. Simply put, he’s a brat. You gave him more patience than he deserved.”

“You shouldn’t say things like that about your boss,” Momo says, with a laugh. “Still, I wondered if I gave it enough time, I could have melted that icy barrier he seems to always have around him, Uraraka-san.”

“Maybe,” Ochako says, probably much more honest than what is appropriate, “but take it from someone who’s had to work for him for as long as I have. You really don’t want to see past his ‘cool exterior’.”

Director Todoroki is famous for more than just his intelligence, finesse, and keen business sense. His icy exterior, paired with that beautiful face, gets a lot of people hoping to be the one to melt it. It seems that not even Yaomomo is immune to that sort of fantasy. Yet Ochako knows that behind that pretty face is a twenty-nine year old child who’d probably die immediately once left alone. Whether it’s through a traffic accident from seeing a cat in the streets, malnutrition from eating nothing but cold soba, or dying simply to spite his father.

The Director is blissfully unaware of his inability to function like a sensible adult, however (case in point, this situation right here). Ochako’s full time job doesn’t even give her the luxury to pretend like he is.

Momo gives an affirmative sound. Her hand cups the contour of her perfectly symmetrical face in interest. “That’s right. You’ve been his secretary for… five years?”

“Nine years,” Ochako answers, suppressing a sigh. “Yaoyorozu-san, you are easily my favorite among all the people he’s had to date, so I hope you trust me when I say that you dodged a bullet. I worked for him for a long time, and I’ve never ever seen him take anyone seriously. You also know how he gets about people touching him. Plus all he thinks about at any given point in time are one of the three things: work, work, and work, so I don’t think a relationship with him would be good for anyone.”

Well, he also thinks a lot about his snobby cat, Victoria. Oh, and tormenting Ochako with care of said cat.

Momo hums, dark eyes perusing her carefully. “He does seem to only care about work and not much else. But you touch him quite frequently, don’t you, Uraraka-san?”

Ochako blinks once, and shakes her head. “Me? Not at all.”

The actress smiles at her patiently. “But you do. And when we’re together for our dates, he speaks to you more than he does to me.”

Chasing after the absent-minded Director with a lint roller for his suit, frequently readjusting his tie for him, and doing every single one of his biddings don’t count. Ochako laughs awkwardly. “Well, he doesn’t see me as a person, much less a woman. So you don’t have to worry about that.”

It definitely isn’t the first time that Ochako has been accused of having an affair with her boss. She hopes she doesn’t have to defend herself in front of Yaomomo. She’s just sick of all the jealousy for ‘monopolizing’ Director Todoroki’s attention. Ah, if only they knew.

Thankfully, the actress does not pursue the topic any further. “Thank you for your courtesy, Uraraka-san. I wish the same for Shouto… I mean, the Director,” she says, and adds after a thoughtful pause, “... and you. The two of you.”

The knowing smile remains on her mouth. Ochako only returns this with her most professional smile and bids her farewell.

Well, Yaomomo might have meant something entirely different with her words, but with what Ochako is about to do that evening, she could use all the well-wishes she can get.

“At the end of the day, nine years is just nine years,” she mumbles to herself, as she takes a taxi back to the Endeavor Towers at the center of the city.

Director Todoroki Shouto, 29 years old, single, is one of the youngest major executives of Endeavor Inc, one of the biggest conglomerates in Japan. It’s not as impressive as it sounds since he’s also the fourth child of Todoroki Enji, the man who owns it, but he’s earning his rep as much as he can.

He begins a typical productive day waking up in the penthouse of Endeavor Towers. It’s a lot smaller than his own space in the family estate, but it’s only a few floors above where he works all day so it’s pretty convenient. Also, he has total control of the security there and only allows a handful of people in--his bodyguard/chauffeur Shoji, his personal chef Sato, Midoriya (but only if there’s work to be done), and of course, Secretary Uraraka, who is required to be there the moment he wakes up. Having his privacy is great, and not having that annoying old man there makes it a hundred times better.

If he didn’t entrust Victoria in Secretary Uraraka’s care for any reason, the British Shorthair would be gently tapping his face with her royal paw at around six in the morning. He gets up, brush his teeth, and then take a shower infused with vitamins and minerals designed to give him energy. He spends twenty minutes eating breakfast cooked by Sato and dresses up for work afterward.

Having been there since five in the morning, Secretary Uraraka meets him in his dressing room, ready with her choice of his clothing for the day. In that particular morning, she chose midnight blue and grey. “I deemed this appropriate for the conservative group we are meeting today at nine,” she says, tying a Windsor knot around his neck with ease. “We are expecting a long day. Will you take any caffeine today?”

“Ristretto, exactly 2.5 fluid ounces, 87 degrees centigrade, no sugar.”

Uraraka nods, signalling Sato behind them, mouthing demitasse as she is supposed to. “And about Yaoyorozu Momo—“

“Yes, I’m aware of the upcoming Daytime Drama Awards,” he says with a huff. “Best actress and Best Onstage Kiss, right? As well as Best Ensemble Cast for their performance in The Goddess of Creation--”

Uraraka gives him her standard customer service smile. Her eyes flash meaningfully as she says,“That, and her birthday is coming up. Will you give her anything?”

Shouto keeps himself from muttering under his breath. Shit, he almost forgot. “Just the yellow roses. Don’t mention her birthday.”

Just the yellow roses, meaning it’s time to let her go.

Secretary Uraraka blinks, eyes flashing again, but her smile does not waver as she gives a half-bow. “Understood.”

It’s been a month or so since he appeared in public with Yaoyorozu. Endeavor has been pushy about him seeing her, given her looks, talent, and old money background. He would have refused to do it, except that Yaoyorozu was a decent person from University and he didn’t want to make things difficult with her and her own pushy parents.

But she won’t make his work any easier, and she deserved better. He supposes this is an acceptable time to end things amicably. Well, as amicably as a break-up via proxy can get.

They make their way to work down the elevator to the main building, with Uraraka listing their daily agenda from her neat plastic file folder. An array of salarymen and women whose names he can’t quite recall bow to him all the way to his office. When he makes it to his desk with a view of the city, the priority documents are already arranged neatly in front of his seat, 5 cm away from the edge as is his preference.

“All right. Let’s get to work,” Shouto says, twisting his wrists in anticipation.

“Yes, Director.” Uraraka does that polished half-bow again and takes her place beyond the glass doors of his office.

When she leaves, he easily goes into the rhythm of office work. It gets dull from time to time, and when his eyes wander, he sees her with her eyes focused on her desktop computer, no doubt working on the next project proposal.

Efficient, accomplished, no complaints. The sight of someone working hard to keep up with him fills him with determination.

The rest of the day is a whirlwind of activities—an executive meeting with the board, another meeting with the legal office, a teleconference with their associates from India. He only remembers to eat lunch when Uraraka gets back from her assignment at Yaoyorozu’s and reminds him to eat the vegetables that Chef Sato prepared along with his soba. And then it’s more paperwork and meetings, and then evening comes and they both have to rush to a social event.

Shouto goes back to his penthouse, spends about an hour playing with Victoria, grooms himself and changes into a tuxedo. When he’s done, Uraraka meets him at the lobby. She’s garbed in something made of pink chiffon the same shade as her round cheeks, with just enough jewelry to make her look acceptable in this group of socialites without being too overboard.

“The Milan group will be arriving at the M hotel fundraiser in approximately twenty-eight minutes,” Uraraka tells him, her pink-padded fingers flying up to his bow tie in efficient movements.

“Let Midoriya entertain them first. We shouldn’t take too long, though,” Shouto says, as Uraraka straightens out his collar and wipes his shoulders free of any micro-creases that her laser eyes may have detected.

The quiet Shoji takes them to the event after that. The drive takes them twenty-nine minutes instead of twenty due to traffic, probably longer if Uraraka hadn’t navigated them through the side streets. It’s good that she’s there to get them out of the imminent gridlock. He supposed the fact that she commutes daily to work is useful in situations like this.

Eventually they make it to the ostentatious lobby of the hotel, where the equally ostentatious fundraiser is being held. Shouto knows that a famous celebrity photographer called Spiral is auctioning off his photos, and that all proceeds are going to go into educating orphans or something. He supposes he should care more about orphans--orphans are always a good cause to support, even though his last brush with orphans earned him the unsavory title of five pee-pee man--but right now all he is concerned about is that Milan group lurking in the shadows, waiting for him to find them.

And he didn’t mean to steal everyone’s attention away from the auction, but it isn’t his fault that he’s so eye-catching. With his heterochromatic eyes and hair and the scar and all. If it were up to him he’d get rid of the red, scarred half of his body, but then again his most important business partners tend to look for any signs of Todoroki Enji in him, so he can’t do that just yet.

Holding on to his right arm, Uraraka subtly pulls him toward a certain direction away from a flock of women looking his way. “I can see Chief Midoriya over there.”

They begin to approach the mess of green hair at the other end of the ballroom. He seems to be doing a decent job entertaining them with tales about his idol, Governor Yagi (which is the usual Midoriya fare). Or at least, the polite Italians seem to be doing a good job of listening to his impassioned speech.

In any case, when Uraraka clears her throat behind him, Midoriya turns his freckled face and gives them a large, sunny smile. “Oh! And here’s the Director, just in time!”

“Buona sera,” Shouto greets the guests with a smile of his own. “I hope you weren’t waiting for too long,” he says in fluent Italian.

“Not at all,” the leader tells him, and proceeds in various small talk about how they love the city, the food, the women, etcetera. It’s all small talk that he’s able to respond to flawlessly, yet Shouto notices the way they eye Secretary Uraraka at this last part, which gives him pause. One of them says something in Italian about her alluring looks, and asking her candidly if he can get her a drink.

Unfazed, Uraraka merely smiles and tucks a bit of her auburn hair behind her left ear. Somehow the man steps back, takes a good look at Shouto’s stare, and says nothing more.

“If you don’t mind,” Shouto tells them, after adjusting the sudden harshness of his tone, “let’s talk about partnership.”

It can’t exactly be called a business meeting since all of it is informal, yet it’s equally important all the same. As bothersome as socializing is, it’s important to impress investors with more than just numbers and data. All in all It is an easy and straightforward conversation, and Shouto managed to get their confidence in their business partnership without much trouble. After a toast and a round of handshakes, Shouto allows them to have their fill of the rest of the party while he retreats to his own company.

“That went smoothly,” Midoriya tells him with a congratulatory pat on his back. “Congrats on getting them to say yes. They’re notoriously hard to deal with, but also notoriously loyal.”

“Of course,” he replies with a sip of his whisky. Shouto wasn’t expecting any other answer than yes. He knows he’s that good.

“Gotta say, I was a little worried for you back there,” the green-haired Chief says. “You seemed close to losing your temper.”

Shouto gives him a bored stare. “You must be mistaken.”

Midoriya laughs and glances at Secretary Uraraka’s direction. “Maybe I was.”

Oh, speaking of which. “Uraraka, I didn’t know you knew Italian.”

Uraraka gives him a bright smile. “Apart from the types of pasta, I don’t know a word of Italian.”

“But you understood that that person was offering you a drink.” He wouldn’t have minded the flirting in an ordinary setting, but it’s a waste of time in this one. It’s a relief that he didn’t have to deal with it during the conversation.

She shrugs. “It’s obvious he was flirting. Even if I don’t really get what’s going on, all I have to do is this.”

She tucks her hair behind her ear again, much the same way she did before. Shouto wonders what her white sapphire earrings have to do with anything, until Midoriya laughs at her in awe. “Hey, now when did you get married, Uraraka-san?”

There’s a silver band on her ring finger, with obvious fake diamonds on them that she shows off with pride. “Since I won this at company day last year. It’s saved me a lot of trouble in the past.”

“Wow, you’re really ready for everything, aren’t you?” Midoriya says with a dreamy sigh. “No offense to Secretary Hagakure, since she’s pretty great too, but I’m so jealous of the Director for having a secretary like you! You’re like, a whole other level of efficient.”

Of all the things to be jealous of, Midoriya picks his secretary. What then about his skills and unparalleled genius in business? Shouto doesn’t hide his offense at that.

“Oh, don’t worry director, you’re pretty good at that too. No question,” the green-haired executive says with a bright smile. “You’ll be CEO in no time. I’m sure of it.”

It’s mere flattery if it came from anybody else but Midoriya, who has been by his side since business school. He accepts the compliment.

So the night wears on. Shouto poses for a few more pictures, talks to as few people as possible (which is still a lot--politicians, celebrities, models who want his attention and who are good potential business partners), and excuses himself when the threshold for politeness has been reached. Shoji comes to pick him and Uraraka up, and he collapses at the back of the limo feeling pretty pleased with himself.

“That went well,” he tells her as he pulls off the bowtie and allows himself to breathe properly. His voice is a little sore from talking too much, but it’s all worth it in the end.

“Agreed, Director,” Uraraka says with a nod. “You were exceptional in dealing with everyone tonight. I’m sure this will be good for the company.”

“Objectively speaking, yes, I was good.” He really is getting better at talking to people and sealing deals, so he’s proud of himself. “You did well too, Uraraka.”

She gives a cheery smile. “No, I could have done better. As you said, I need more accent training for my English.”

It’s a minor detail, pronouncing ‘business’ as bijiness, but Shouto is a stickler for details and perfection and Uraraka needs to address that problem. Still, if he had to rate her performance tonight it’d be a good solid 98.65%, which is pretty impressive for a high stakes event such as this.

Feeling very generous, he tells her, “Since you did a great job tonight, I can give you one thing you want. Anything at all.”

Uraraka looks up at him in mild surprise. “Anything?”

Shouto nods, even gives her that little smile that women like, for some reason. “Just say the word.”

He wonders how she can make her eyes sparkle like that, when they’re brown like chocolate and there’s only the city lights rushing past them to give her any light. Still, she continues to glow, her pink cheeks lighting up impossibly, pink-padded fingers tapping her chin in excitement.

It’s only out of pure impulse that Shouto said anything like that at all, but there’s a second between one heartbeat and the next when he’s sure he really will give her anything she wants. A new car, a new apartment, a new wardrobe, a better ring for her finger that isn’t as cheap as the one she’s wearing now. Heck, if she asked for it, he’d be willing to even give her a day off. And he’d pay for whatever it is that his secretary wants to do in her spare time. All she has to do is say the word, and--

“I’ve decided,” she says, after a moment. “Director Todoroki,”

Shouto nods, readying his mouth to say done,

“I’d like to quit my job.”

His heart pauses again, for an entirely different reason.

Quit her job? This job? Maybe she has some other job, even though it’s a breach of her contract to work part-time, but that’s the only thing that makes sense.

“I’d like to quit being your secretary,” Uraraka repeats with a patient smile.

The city lights blur behind her head, giving him a quick bout of nausea. An unnamed emotion rises to the back of his throat like bile, irrational and unpleasant, one that he refuses to let win.

“Okay. Done.”

She smiles at him and bows her head. Her hands come up to her chest as she gives another half-bow. “Thank you very much, Director.”

Shouto tries not to show an ounce of hesitation when he asks, “May I ask why you’re quitting?”

“Personal reasons,” she answers easily, and adds nothing more.

It’s nice, brief, and acceptable, just how Shouto likes his answers, but not this situation. For the first time in a long time, he’d like to hear her excuses, apologies, inane reasoning. Anything to make her decision make sense. Anything to make sense of the whirl of unpleasant feelings at the pit of his stomach.

But Uraraka remains silent, eyes staring straight ahead, with no indication of regret or remorse over her words. There’s a smile on her face too, one that’s too relieved for what she has just said.

For the first time in nine years, Shouto wonders if the smile he knows is merely a mask after all.

#bnha fic #todoroki shouto/uraraka ochako #todochako #todoocha #shouchako #my writings #yes it's based on what's wrong with secretary kim #this is what you get when you spend one entire weekend bingewatching

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iiimber · 5 years

Note

A to Z for Dabi?

idk if anyone knows, but i’m a huge todoroki! dabi supporter so i’ve kinda…melded that in with these a bit assdfkjf

A= affection

Honestly, not the most affectionate. There’s a 1% chance that he’ll touch you or talk sweetly to you in public; if he feels like someone is a threat to you (or your relationship), he’ll step close and put an arm around your waist, but that’s about it and it doesn’t last long. In private, he’s a little more open. Takes him some time though.

B= best memory

Anything with his mom. Rei was the only good adult in his life while growing up, so he views any memories he has of her in a rose-tinted view. He likes thinking back to when she would use her quirk in front of him– though sometimes it makes him bitter that he had to inherit his quirk.

C= cat or dog person

Cat. He’s really not much of an animal person, as he’s never been in a place to own one, but if he was able to own a pet– it would be a cat. He likes their temperament.

D= dreams

Long ago, so much so that it almost feels like a past life to him– Dabi wanted to be a hero. It was when he was young, but old enough to understand that his father was not one– he wanted to be a hero that was like All Might. It fell through, obviously, and now all he wants is to tear down any false idols.

E= evenings

Drinking or on the town. His nights are either eventful or non-eventful. If he’s up to it, he’ll visit you in your apartment and stay awhile. This isn’t rare, but you know not to expect it. Deeper into the relationship, he tends to spend most of his free evenings in your presence.

F= first date

There really wasn’t a first date; nothing like a first date should be, anyways. It was him hanging in your apartment for the night, with pizza and too many drinks. Some kind of confession took place, knowing him it was blunt and perhaps a little heated– most likely ending up in bed after.

G= giggle

He doesn’t laugh genuinely much anymore. He’ll chuckle– it’s deep and a little raspy, kind of hard to hear. It can be considered pretty sexy, he guesses, but it doesn’t matter to him.

H= hugs

Warm, a little tight. He doesn’t care for hugging much, but if he likes you well enough he’ll oblige. Sometimes though, he likes the feeling of you in his arms.

I= instument

He doesn’t play anything, never had the interest to learn, but if he did he would probably enjoy drums or bass guitar.

J= joy

There’s not a lot that brings him joy– at least not the pure kind. He supposes he could be cheesy and say the idea of his family (minus Enji) being happy makes him full, but he’s left that far behind. Maybe someday, he’ll be able to say your presence makes him happy.

K= kisses

Rough and quick, when it’s not leading to sex. Sweet kisses aren’t his thing, so don’t expect it. When it gets heated, it’s hot and wet and nicely skilled– he kind of likes kissing everywhere, although they later turn into small bites.

L= love

He’s blunt and straightforward. If he likes you, then you’ll know it. He won’t treat you any gentler, but there is a clear difference from his action towards you compared to others. He’s a closet possessive, and won’t hesitate to act on letting others know that he plans to have you as his.

M= memory

He’s not soft, and will avoid thinking about this in order to keep that up; but the first night you spent together is a bright light in his memory. Waking up next to you was warm and nice.

N= No

Dabi

O= occupation

Dabi supposes that if raised in a different, better way, he probably would’ve gone on to be a pro-hero. He tries not to dwell on this thought, as it makes his bitterness grow.

P= parent

Probably not the best father. His example his whole life was abusive and unloving-- he has no idea how to properly love and care for a child, and he’s not that much of a monster to want to put a kid through that. The thought of being a father one day still crosses his mind, but he’s signed his life away with that first kill.

Q= questions

Dabi would be an atheist. No matter how many times he’s felt the need to reach out, nothing ever reaches back. After entering the villain world, any mention of religion was hidden-- no one believes there, so he never will either.

R= romantic

Sadly, there’s barley a romantic bone in his body. Romance eludes him and he doesn’t care enough to figure it out. The closest he has become to being romantic is any late night flings that feel much more passionate and heated than others-- but he’s always gone in the morning, and there’s nothing in his chest that makes him ache for anything more.

S= smile

Dabi’s smiles are more often than not, creepy. He doesn’t smile outside of teasing or goading someone on. The only rare, real smile he lets cross his face is whenever he thinks of Rei, but even that is bittersweet.

T= together

Dabi is not a clingy person. If he were to somehow find himself in a devoted relationship, this still doesn’t change. Even if he cares for this person, his arms don’t really ache for them, and he doesn’t have this overwhelming need to be around them. The clingiest he could be is when he makes sure other people know his partner is his.

U= unbearable

Dabi has a habit of picking at his skin. It’s gross and uncomfortable for others to watch, but he doesn’t care. Dabi himself can’t stand tapping; the rhythmic sounds that go off over and over could drive him crazy.

V= videos

Due to his line of work, Dabi doesn’t keep the most high-tec of devices on him-- let alone have any social media to post on. If in a relationship, it’s the other party that would take most of the pictures or videos.

W= wedding

A wedding was never in the books for Dabi, but hypothetically, it would be small. He doesn’t care much about all the extra shit, and if he could, would just go to court and get it done there. Since that’s out of the question, a wedding would be just him, his partner, and a pastor; somewhere secluded and quiet. He would’ve liked for Rei to be there, but he tries not to think about that too much.

X= eXtra

Dabi has nightmares-- vivid, realistic and scary nightmares. Most of them are about burning alive, purple flames eating up his arms and legs while he screams in pain. Any others are about his childhood, just much more exaggerated.

Y= Yuck

Dabi, in traditional Todoroki fashion, hates anything hot. He doesn’t eat or drink hot things, and will always turn them down unless he’s absolutely starved.

Z= zzzz

Dabi is a very light sleeper, so he sleeps in a room with no windows and always shuts and locks the door. If woken up before he wants to be, he’s grumpy and scary, shooting anyone who dare messes with him an icy glare.

#Anonymous #dabi #dabi headcanons #dabi x reader

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ccyans · 6 years

Text

Six scenes in the life of Todoroki Rei

Rei is nineteen years old the first time she meets Todoroki Enji.

The weekend prior her mother had called to inform Rei of the possible matchup. At nineteen Rei is studying for her degree in associates nursing in Tokyo. Marriage is, if not the last thing on her mind, then nothing more than a nebulous idea at the fringe of Rei’s priority list. Her mother got married when she was Rei’s age, she knows, but despite their tendency towards tradition, neither of Rei’s parents have ever attempted to push that particular rite onto their children.

The offer is a good one though. That’s why Rei’s mother called.

The Todoroki name is old money, well respected; Todoroki Enji is only one year older than Rei but already an up and coming acclaimed hero. He wants the arranged marriage because of Rei’s quirk, which is not terribly surprising, considering Rei can’t think of any other trait of hers which would have caught his attention. The Yukimura name was held with the same prestige as Todoroki once, but these days Rei’s family is content with their little holdings in agriculture and land ownership.

Rei dwaddles over it for two days and an endocrine unit test. In the end though, well, it’s a good offer. It’s not as if she’s going in to sign an actual contract either, just a first meeting, and truthfully, Rei hasn’t been on a date in months. “Besides,” Himari from ethics class informs her, helping tie the numerous, delicate layers of Rei’s best kimono. “There’ll be free food,”

This is how Rei ends up under the roof of some beautiful, expensive tea house on her next weekend off, dressed from neck to wrist in silk and trying not to think about any errors in her makeup. It is a clear summer day and the heat would be stifling had Rei not been regulating her internal body temperature. Sunlight slants through open rice paper doors. They lead to a meticulous garden: lush greenery, golden koi in a clear pond, the sound of birdsong and the gentle click of a bamboo fountain.

Rei lives in a sharehouse with three roommates and a dog. This is way beyond her price range despite her intimacy with tea ceremonies and all the proper manners considering. She sits very still on the tatami mats through a combination of habit and nerves, even though there’s no one but her and a tray of perfect, bite sized tea cakes. She hadn’t eaten breakfast this morning. She wonders how rude it would come off to Todoroki-san if she ate the tea cakes beforehand.

… Probably very.

Rei waits.

When he finally arrives, Todoroki Enji is five minutes early and smoking slightly.

Rice paper doors slide open with a quiet shhke . Shoes on the tatami. Todoroki Enji is a tall, broad man, a trait more noticeable in person than on tevevision, with wild red hair and a sharp straight nose and two lightning blue eyes. He’s handsome, certainly, without the fire from his quirk obscuring his face. And dressed expensively too, in a sharp western style suit that strains across his shoulders. His eyes are bright like festival lanterns.

“Yukimura.” his voice rumbles, clipped and short as he takes a seat. “My apologies. There was an…incident across town.”

Hero work.

“I understand,” says Rei, polite.

This close, she can feel the heat radiating off him.

He smells a little of smoke, a little of concrete dust. In the room his presence is like a gravitational sink, pulling smaller objects inwards, and it would be hard to look away even if she tries, which Rei does not. She feels very small next to him, suddenly. Here, in the beautiful, expensive tea room with its beautiful, expensive decorations, and Todoroki Enji, who is intensely handsome, objectively intimidating, and who, Rei realizes, in a derailment of previous thoughts, is also wearing a fireball print tie.

She blinks twice. Still fireballs.

That’s…

“Ah.” Todoroki-san follows the staring down. “My original got put through a window, so this was backup,” he admits.

…Unexpected.

Unbidden, Rei can feel her lips curve into a smile. Todoroki Enji wears fireball print ties; she thinks she’ll tell Himari that, when she gets back.

“I’m sorry Todoroki-san. It… just doesn’t particularly fit your image so.”

“My image.”

”… Yes.“

Outside, the bamboo fountain clinks gently against stone. He stares at her, expression unreadable. Rei fights the urge to look down.

There’s a stretching silence.

Sunlight. Cicidas. Rushing water. Riveting.

Rei counts to twelve, and then can’t take the awkwardness of it any longer, so in the end it’s her who hesitantly picks back up the thread of conversation. “Would you like me to pour?” she asks, gesturing at the pristine tea set.

“Please,” says Todoroki Enji-san..

Alright then.

The ritual of it settles Rei’s nerves, sends her into quiet concentration, more muscle memory than thought. The whisking of the matcha, the steady tilt of Rei’s wrist as she pours. Her brothers used to joke and call her Yuki-onna, when she served them in practice, with her white hair and white skin and unearthly grace. Rei’s kimono sleeves do not drag. Her posture is perfectly level. Her breath comes out in a stream of frost.

The bowl clicks, precise but gentle, on the cherry wood table. Rei gives a slight bow.

They drink the tea. They eat the little, perfect almond teacakes, and the beautifully wrapped Sakura-mochi, bitter mixing sweet. There is no attempt at conversation; there is ceremony in this. Only when dregs of tea remain in their mugs and the empty sweets tray has been tucked away does Todoroki Enji-san say, "You are very excellent.”

Her father taught Rei’s brothers to meditate. Her mother gave Rei tea and embroidery. “Thank you,” she says.

And then once again the conversation stalls.

“You are… studying?” Todoroki Enji-san tries, finally.

The abrupt landing of the ball in Rei’s court startles her. She collects herself, and then smiles. “Yes. In nursing. I’m hoping to get an Associate’s degree and gain some experience before going back to school to become a fully registered nurse.” She pauses, expectant. Todoroki Enji-san does not follow up in that line of questioning, though, so Rei detours. “Is your hero work going well?”

“Yes.”

“The… incident earlier. Was it resolved successfully?”

“Quite.”

More one-word answers.

Todoroki Enji, Rei realizes, another five shortly burned conversation attempts later, has about the tact of a brick and the brusqueness of a charging bull, and put together his social graces are semi-nonexistent. He is looking at her very intently across the table as if in hopes that Rei can sustain this entire conversation by herself, which Rei cannot. Rei is rapidly running out of topics to start on.

Rei asks him about his thoughts on the tea-cakes, gets another one-liner, and then kind of despairs. “The flowers are lovely,” she says desperately, glancing towards the garden. “Don’t you think?” Immediately afterwards she wants to snatch the words back, because if Todoroki-san can’t manage a paragraph on his actual job it is unlikely flowers will capture his interest in any way. Next she’ll be talking about the weather. Himari is definitely going to be laughing at her, once the situation has been conveyed, but before that Rei thinks she’ll get at least some condolences, considering.

He surprises her, though.

He clears his throat, awkwardly, and then asks. “Would you like to see them?”

Rei blinks twice.

“That. That would be lovely, thank you.”

He allows her to rise first. Rei is conscious to make it as graceful as possible, and then takes little pigeon toed steps towards the garden, which in three-inch geta shoes are about the only steps she can take. She and Todoroki-san sit side by side on the bench next to the koi pond. It’s hotter here, in the direct sunlight. Steam curls off of Rei’s neck, instant sublimation. She dips her hand into the cool green water of the pond, its surface reflecting bits of sun and sky but mainly just the water plants underneath, the jewel toned flicker of swimming koi. They dart up to Rei’s hand, curious. She should have saved a tea cake for them.

After a minute of quiet sitting, Todoroki-san says, “Which flowers.” and then pauses. And then continues: “Do you like.” He seems… struggling.

Or embarrassed.

Rei stares at him through a white fringe and says, “Oh. Um. The lillies – the pink ones.”

She’s still staring at him when he snaps the stem off a lily, one in full bloom, pink and white petals unfurled and smelling so very sweet, and tucks it carefully behind her ear.

Rei touches the flower with the tips of her fingers.

“Oh,” she says, very softly.

And he’s looking at her, still. The expression on his face: struggling, embarrassed. He looks if he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do, so Rei says, “thank you,” and she’s smiling now, she knows it, an almost giddy curve of her lips. He really is handsome. He would be even more so if he were to smile. “That’s – thank you.”

She hadn’t expected that. She hadn’t expected that at all.

Todoroki Enji looks enormously, enormously uncomfortable, but he still rallies himself up and says, “It’s a good colour. On you.” And immediately goes red in the face.

Rei watches the blush spread, high on his cheeks and to his ears, in a kind of owl-eyed fascination. He sounds as if he’s never done this before, complimented a woman, this too handsome man who doesn’t smile and whose face is plastered on billiards across the country and is one of the strongest heroes in the country, and Rei can’t help it – she laughs.

Rei is nineteen and she’s had exactly one boyfriend before, for a few short months before moving to Tokyo for college. She’s pretty sure Todoroki Enji has had exactly no significant others, period. She thinks this is what she’ll be telling Himari when she gets back: that her date has all the grace of a charging bull in a china shop, no tact, no ability for small talk, but he wears fireball print ties and tucks flowers behind her ear and can blush as red as his hair, and that he’ll be terribly, terribly handsome if she can get him to smile.

She agrees to a second meeting.

The first time he hits her she’s twenty five and there’s alcohol on his breath.

There are half downed bottles of vintage sake on the kitchen table. A chair lies smashed on the kitchen tiles. Rei never sees the backhand coming until she’s on the floor and the lights are wheeling stars above her. One moment they’re arguing. She hasn’t seen him in a week; he’s been home five days in the past month , she is saying, “your daughter’s three Enji she doesn’t recognize your face, ” and he’s pacing the length of the kitchen snarling: “ Rei be quiet, ” entire body coiled tense like a jungle cat’s, so Rei draws herself up and says, “ Todoroki Enji, ” sharp as a slap –

and loses –

Time.

The next thing Rei knows she is blinking black spots out of her peripherals, feeling something metallic bloom at the back of her throat. The lights of the kitchen hallo above her, bright white spots that mix with the October sun streaming through the window.

She makes a small, confused noise.

“Mama,” says a voice. So small. Her baby boy’s voice.

He’s tugging at her shirt, her Dabi, and he sounds – frightened. Why does he sound frightened. Rei doesn’t know. She tries to leverage herself up. It doesn’t work: her head is swimming circles and the right side of her face throbs, sharp and suddenly nauseatingly painful. Rei hisses between her teeth.

“Mama,” says Dabi. His eyes are wide, wide, wide, his father’s lightning eyes gone big and stricken, his mouth open into a tiny o.

Rei gets herself to her knees and –

Enji is standing above her.

He’s frozen to the spot, hand raised, eyes as wide as Dabi’s are. The glass bottle in his hand has shattered to the floor, weeping clear sake across blue tile. He’s still still still, all the kinetic motion in him stuttered, and the moment Rei realizes what had happened she thinks, you should be.

She’s never realized how much bigger he was over her. She’s realizing it now.

She doesn’t think she’s ever been afraid of him, not like this.

“Out ,” she says, and her jaw aches and her head is pounding and the fury in her is a rising tide, drowning out the minute panic. She points to the door. “Out.”

He leaves.

Rei slumps back to the floor. Ow.

She pulls Dabi close, because he’s hovering, biting his lip – it’s bad habit he got from her – and then proceeds to ice over the entire right side of her face. The cold soothes it. Then she goes probing around the back of her head, trying to find bumps although hoping there isn’t any.

No luck.

“Sweetie,” sighs Rei, inspecting herself in the bathroom mirror. Dabi, the little one, is still glued to one pant leg. She glances down. “Sweetie, can you get mama her phone? And your sister. And maybe your father, but only if he’s already dunked himself sober and looks suitably ashamed.”

At the hospital they tell Rei her cheekbone has been fractured, the delicate arch. Hefty bruising. Swelling at the back of her head where she’d hit the floor. The nurses give her a IV of toradol that brings the pain down to a dull murmur, and then a man comes in, dressed in green scrubs and a white coat, who takes Rei’s face into his hands and presses two fingers to the corner of the purple bruising, and tells her, “Breathe in for me, Todoroki-san.” For a split second after Rei does pain sparks lightning down her jaw but then the cool takes over, and Rei breathes, in, and out, and when the man takes his hands away it’s as if the last few hours never passed at all.

The nurses give her water; they take away her unneeded IV. Twenty minutes later Enji comes in, the children at his heels.

“Mama!”

Dabi is through the doorway and at Rei’s bedside as quickly as he can manage with Fuyumi clutching at the helm of his shirt. There he hovers, awkwardly, looking desperate to climb onto the covers but unsure if he should. Rei makes the decision for him. She lifts him up, then Fuyumi, whose eyes are round as twin moons behind her chunky glasses, still in penguin print pajamas.

She curls into Rei’s lap, a hefty wait. The lisp in her voice trips her vowels.“Mama okay?” Rei strokes her hair.

“Just a little boo boo. The doctors did a good job – mama’s just fine.”

“Sure?” mutters Dabi.

“Very sure.”

He looks at her, a little frown on his little face. He looks towards the door.

Which, inevitably, leads Rei’s attention back towards Enji.

He hasn’t changed, Enji. Same shirt as earlier, rumpled, same jacket thrown over one arm. He’s at the door. He hasn’t crossed the threshold. He looks – tired, brows drawn, mouth creased.

He has pink lilies tucked underneath one arm.

“Enji,” she says.

Fuyumi wriggles herself deeper into the blanket.

He takes the visitor’s chair, hard white plastic scraping across the linoleum tile. The flowers in hands still have dew gathered at their tips, their edges gilded in white, deepening to magenta at their centers, malachite stems wrapped in tissue paper.

For a moment there is nothing but silence. The clock in the corner, ticking.

Rei waits. She can wait.

“It.” He pauses. His fingers crinkle the tissue paper.

“It won’t happen again,” he says. Hesitates. Barrels through. “That was not right of me. I. I apologize.” His mouth is one thin grim line. His knuckles are pale around the flowers. He hates apologizing, he does, he hates being wrong. It’s hard to get him to admit that he’s in the fault for anything with that stubborness in him, digging in ground like a planted mule. It has to be wrung out of him, usually, the apology. It’s being wrung out of him right now, the apology. But he’s saying it. And it’s him, wringing it out of himself, looking at the flowers crinkling in his hands, looking at Rei, mouth tight and white at the edges, as if he thinks she won’t accept it.

She feels tired all of a sudden, looking at him.

This is the third time he’s been denied the international conference in favour of All Might, despite being number two hero nationally for two years. It grates on him, she knows. He hates being second place near as much he hates apologizing. It makes him irate, snappish, makes him go for the alcohol. Sometimes it makes him forget his own strength. His hero work is all consuming, she knows, in the ways that matter.

He apologized. He brought her pink lily flowers.

He’s Todoroki Enji, who wears fire ball print ties and tucks lillies into Rei’s hair and has a laugh like thunder rumbling. Todoroki Enji, who blushes red as his hair and who is so, so handsome when he smiles, ever briefly.

“Alright,” says Rei. Quietly. It’s that kind of moment, him and her and this foreign white walled hospital room with the children pressed close to her side. She strokes Fuyumi’s hair, once, twice. “Alright, Enji, but no alcohol.”

She takes the flowers. They smell of sugar and syrup and cold spring mornings. The dew drips sweetly onto her palm.

Rei breathes in. It’s a one time thing.

It won’t happen again.

This is a slippery slope.

It gets better, at first. He is home more often and reels his anger in more consciously and spends time with the children, so that eventually Fuyumi stops shying behind Rei’s legs or her older brother’s back every time Enji is within sightline. He is not good with them in the same way he is not good with small talk and social cues; too brisque for it, too blunt, too unused to their habits and neediness and babblbng toddler talk. But he reads the newspaper to them, sometimes, and carts Dabi around on his shoulders, sometimes, and looks at Fuyumi like he’s not at all sure what to do with her but is baffledly enamoured all the same. His focus is like a laser beam, one direction only, and it gets better, yes, but in the long term of Todorki Enji, it seems, All Might is north and Endeavor nothing but a magnet straining in a compass.

It gets better until it doesn’t.

He misses Natsuo’s birth. He’s somewhere in the west end of Japan helping with a terrorist attack. He misses the week when Fuyumi is so ill with some sudden virus she can barely stomach water, when the hospital hooks her up to a dozen softly beeping machines while Rei waits and waits, a baby hooked to a sling in her chest, her hands in her face, breathing haggard, quiet breaths into her hands. They move from Tokyo to Musutafu, where Eastern Japan’s primary hero headquarters is located, and Rei hopes that that – this’ll help. This extra time. This closeness to his work.

It doesn’t help.

All Might wins the National Enforcer’s Peace Prize; he stands as number 1 hero for the fourth year in a row. These days his name is becoming a symbol, a rallying cry, the herald of a golden age after a century of turmoil and reform. It should be a good thing, this sudden peace, but with every progressive achievement All Might makes Enji grows progressively more irate, more distant, more focused on capture rates, trying to surpass him through sheer grim willpower, and he hates being second place, Rei knows, and he hates being lessar, Rei knows, but that is not an excuse .

“ You have a family, Enji,” she snaps, one early morning before the children are due for school, and his tone when he says, “ Rei, ” is nothing short of a thunder warning. She stares at his back as he leaves in costume. She stares.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

She grips her arms, tightly.

He sweeps into the house like hurricane weather, all tension and billowing winds that slam the windows, flutter the curtains, footsteps harsh across the tatami. The children hide from him, these days. The strain in him is palpable, and they can feel it, and Rei can feel it too. When he looks at the children its as if he’s looking through them, when he looks at Rei it’s as if he’s looking through her, beyond her, past the rice paper walls of the house and beyond the walls of the manor, towards some distant endpoint she cannot see.

It frightens her, a shiver like a premonition.

Rei pleads. Rei begs, “Enji, please , Enji, this isn’t like you.”

And sometimes on good days they will eat dinner together and he will pass the soup and return with little trinkets from the corners of Japan – an origami flower here and a cookbook there and a box of jelly sweets for the children – and in the after hours of those days, the good ones, when Rei is tucking the children in for sleep, in the comforting quietus of evening with moonlight slanting silver across white-red hair and flowered futons, it will feel as if the storm warning was nothing but that; a warning, a phase, now dissipating to memory.

On the bad days he snaps at every little thing: All Might, most prevalently, and current political events, but also the alterations to his costume, and the children, and the food, and the dishes, every little particular thing and Rei isn’t even in charge of the dishes, that’s the housekeeper’s job. On bad days no matter how much Rei holds herself so very still, tries to soothe, tries to reason, tries to get him to listen, he doesn’t. “Enji, please, ” she says, and he whirls on her to seethe, “ Shut up Rei, ” a hiss between his teeth.

She watches him go. The turn of his back, as he leaves, familiar now. The sound of the training room doors slamming shut; a gong clap.

Her nails leave crescents in the meat of her palm.

Breathe in, breathe out.

This is the slippery slope:

Some days are good days and he is Todoroki Enji who has a laugh like thunder, who wears fireball print ties and tucks flowers into Rei’s hair. Some days are good days and the storm is like a faded memory. On those days she can kiss the children good night and think to herself, it’ll be better, he’ll be better now. And Rei wants it to be, in retrospect. Rei wants terribly for the Todoroki Enji who slams training doors and stares through the children and snaps at every little particular thing, who she does not recognize, to become nothing but smoke and transparent ash to be swept away.

But some days are not good days. And then most days are not good days, a balance tipping. Through it Rei tucks the children to bed, and stares at Enji’s leaving back, and pleads, and begs, and then she is twenty seven years old and she doesn’t know how she gets there, she doesn’t – but one day she is twenty seven years old and putting herself bodily between her husband and her tiny son, saying, “Enji he is seven, this is unacceptable. ” But he doesn’t listen. He hasn’t listened to her in a long, long time.

His eyes are lightning, his voice a rumble. There were warnings; how did Rei not see this coming. “ This is not a negotiation ,” he says, lowly.

He’s bigger than her. He’s always been bigger than her.

The blow is so easy to catch sight of, this time.

She doesn’t budge, digs her heels in. It takes her across the shoulder and sends her sprawling, elbows cracking against the tatami, her back hitting the wall with an ugly smack. Her vision swims, briefly. “Mama!” cries Dabi, and then none of the pain matters, not at all, because Enji seizes her baby boy by the arm and wrenches him towards the training rooms.

The door slams shut.

She is twenty eight years old and dabbing bruise balm onto her eldest’s back. The purple spreads from his shoulder down, dark, ugly splotches against his pale skin. He is curled up in her lap like a pill bug, chin on his knees, arms wrapped around his shins. The balm smells sharply of thyme and something else herbally pungent.

It is a good balm. Expensive. Quirk-made, to help coax healing. Underneath Rei’s fingers the bruises fade, blood vessels mending and the blood itself being reabsorbed.

It must hurt. She’s being as gentle as she can but it must. He doesn’t make any noise though, her Dabi, just goes very still and very quiet. He didn’t used to. At the beginning of these sessions he used to bury his face into her shirt and cry silent, ugly tears into stomach while Rei held him so very close and bit her lip until it bled. She’d scream herself hoarse at Enji’s door, afterwards. He doesn’t cry anymore though.

She doesn’t scream anymore, either.

She takes out the burn cream next. The jar is half full. They will need another one soon. This one smells of rosemary and honey, glittering avocado green – it’s too sweet for what it represents. Dabi rubs it over the back of his hands and over his shins, on top of the slightly pink, raised patches of skin. Rei slathers it across his shoulders and the back of his neck where he can’t reach. Bandages next, to keep the salve intact. They’ll take it off in two hours and wash the salve off and the burns will be gone.

Tie them, tight but not too tight. The white on the pink on the mottled purple.

Breathe in. Rei’s hands do not shake.

It is a clear July morning. Outside the sky is clear as anything; the sun streams through Rei’s kitchen window in a tessellation of light that spreads geometric shapes onto tile. Natsuo and Fuyumi would be playing by the koi pond, Rei knows, supervised by the maid. There is the distant sound of birdsong. The pale rumble of traffic on the road. On her kitchen floor Rei sits with two emptying jars of salve and a worn first aid kit, a bottle of antiseptic. The air smells equally of thyme as it does rosemary, honey, and sharp disinfectant.

It’s cloying, the smell. Too much, too pungent. She’ll need to open the windows. Dabi screws back the lid of the burn salve and lobs it into the first aid pack. Rei puts away the bandages and scissors. She closes her eyes and hears the birdsong.

Rei breathes.

It is a clear July morning and –

The air smells of honey and rosemary and thyme and hospital and –

Her son is putting a fresh shirt over half-faded bruises and –

Rei wraps her arms around Dabi’s shoulders, puts her face into the junction of her neck. He smells of honey and rosemary and thyme and burning things, the ozone. Rei breathes through it. She has to. She breathes and breaths until it feels as if she can’t, until her lungs are vacuums and this is room is a vacuum and she is going to choke, on the honey and rosemary and thyme, she is going to choke on this feeling trying to crawl its way up her throat and peel her open like a ripe fruit.

Dabi says, “Mom?” He is eight years old and hasn’t called her mama in months.

Rei breathes. It comes out shuddering, it comes out frost, a plume.

Rei has to breathe. She has to.

“I’m so sorry,” her voice shivers. “I’m so, so sorry.”

His cheek catches against her lashes, the white parted. His elbow sticks into her ribs – he needs to eat more. He’s too bony for his age. His mouth is turned down, when he twists to face her, a tiny scowl. Enji’s expression placed over Rei’s sharply delicate bone structure. “T’s not your fault.”

But it is. But it is. But he wasn’t made for this. But none of them were made for this. There’s too much of Rei’s ice in him, in his skin and insides that code ice instead of fire. The first few weeks after he was born they had to keep him in the hospital for temperature regulation, to make sure his quirk didn’t burn him out from the inside.

“It’s not ,” he insists. “C’mon, we can call the dumb old man shitty names, like – “

Rei holds him very very tightly, cuts off the syllable with a squeeze, and says nothing at all.

She breathes.

It passes, eventually. She is calm again, emptied out, her insides still. She puts the first aid kit away. There are still house chores and other tasks to be done. From the garden pond: Fuyumi laughing, clear as a bell.

The children will want an afternoon snack. Rei checks the fridge.

“Anyway,” Dabi says, determinedly, “Shitty names. I’m thinking oven brain, cuz obviously something got cook – Mom, amitsu?”

“Did you learn “shitty” from the news channel?” Rei sighs

“…. no.”

He helps ladle out the jelly and the green tea ice-cream while Rei slices fruit. Peaches. Strawberries. She chills them, and then arranges them artfully in the bowls. Red bean paste. Syrup over top. It’s a mechanical act. She doesn’t think too much about it. She doesn’t think too much about anything. Her breathing evens.

She sends the maid inside to do the dishes and hands out the amitsu bowls to the children and they eat on the bench by the koi pond. Natsu is three, thusly still getting food everywhere, messily. Fuyumi eats only her jelly and picks at her ice-cream. It is clear and cool, the air lacking the muffled humidity of the past week, swept away from yesterday night’s thunderstorm. Water drips from bowed branches and onto wet grass. Wind whistles through the trees.

“Mama,” whispers Fuyumi. “When’s Father coming back?”

Rei’s spoon pauses mid-air.

Fuyumi has left her bowl on the bench. The silver spoon, clenched in her fingers. She is six years old and too observant for her age. Is it born or is it something trained, Rei wonders. She has all ice and no fire, and for that Rei is quietly relieved. Enji won’t want her – not like with Dabi. It is the same with Natsu, three years old and still oblivious to the tension in the house. Little ice flakes flutter from his little fingers.

It shouldn’t be a good thing, that Enji doesn’t want his children. It shouldn’t. But it means they’re safe, Rei’s youngest two. And then the baby –

Enji doesn’t even know yet, about the baby. Enji is at a conference in Osaka.

“Not until Monday, sweetheart,” says Rei.

She does not think about the baby.

The garden is stifling, all of a sudden. It feels laughable. Endless clear sky above and the rain still fresh and greenery all around in jeweled watercolour, and Rei, staring unseeingly at her melting ice cream and floating jelly cutes, needing to be out.

But to where.

They finish the amitsu. Rei cleans Natsu up, changes him. She prepares the vegetables for a curry, the mechanical motion of it returning her once again to equilibrium.

Onions. Carrots. Scallions.

Eventually, Rei finds herself staring into the fridge, trying to find potatoes that don’t exist.

It is a clear July morning and –

She closes the fridge. She presses her forehead to the cool metal.

Rei needs out. Rei needs out. But where would she even go. She doesn’t have any friends here, in Musutafu. She doesn’t. Rei has three children and she’s always been so busy and after the move there’d never been any time to get herself ingrained in the local community, or go out and make friends, and anyway Enji hadn’t liked Rei going out much anyway so she didn’t, she hadn’t, and now she doesn’t even know where the market is, the market, for potatoes .

She hasn’t called any of her Tokyo friends for years, time and distance severing that connection, and her family still doesn’t know about any of this because Rei hadn’t told them, had ignored all the warnings and said to hersel f it’ll be better, it’ll get better, like a mantra on repeat, but it hadn’t, and it was so shameful , and she would just pack her bags and leave with the children but she’d never gotten more than her associate’s degree, left gathering dust for a near decade now. Where would she get the money even, to take care of the children. She doesn’t know. She doesn’t know how she got here but she can’t stay, not in this house where her oldest son comes out of the training room with burns on his arms and her tiny daughter tiptoes down tatami halls and this baby, this baby , what will happen to this baby, will Enji want –

She breathes in, a shuddering breath. The ice, shivering down her fingertips, films over the fridge wall.

It doesn’t matter, in the end.

He’s number two hero. He’s number two hero and he wants – the children – he wants Rei’s quirk, and she knew that, she knew that since she was nineteen years old and met him at the miai. But she didn’t marry him because he wanted her quirk. She married him because he was Todoroki Enji who wore fireball print ties and couldn’t hold a conversation on his life and tucked flowers behind her ear and held their children like they were something precious– but that Todoorki Enji isn’t here now, and Rei should have noticed the warnings. He’s number two hero and he won’t let them leave. She hates him, terribly. She hates herself, equally terribly. Because now it’s just Rei, trapped weeping in this tatami house with three children and a baby on the way and nowhere to run.

Rei cries until she hears the sound of the bath, draining, the distant patter of footsteps on the floor, incoming, and then she wipes the tears away in a trickle of ice tinkling, breathes until she feels still again, and goes to prepare the curry.

There are tasks to be done.

The baby comes one cold january morning. There are thus four children in the house and exactly zero sleep for Rei. The baby cries and cries and Rei rocks it and nurses it and hums it lullabies but unlike the first three times her nerves are completely shot and Shouto’s colic is utterly inconsolable. Shouto cries, and Rei cries with him, and Enji isn’t here at all which is – a good thing. Rei wakes up at three in the morning to the baby crying completely exhausted and terribly frazzled and without energy to do any emotional processing.

By six months his hair has come in – two tone. His eyes have lightened – two tone. One day Rei just looks at him, the red and the white, the grey and the lightning, and feels the potential of it knock the breath out of her.

Quirks don’t work like that, though. It can’t.

Enji can’t have another one of her sons.

It is June and she is thirty two years old when Shouto’s quirk manifests.

Spring has just given way to early summer showers. The storm outside batters the windows. It is four in the afternoon and Rei is making teriyaki for dinner, blinking back the ache in her jaw and the exhaustion migraine sitting at her temple, when Shouto skids into the kitchen in what should have been his nap time, blanket trailing.

There are tears in his eyes. Rei puts down her knife.

“Sweetheart?”

Lightning crackles, blue-lit, and even as Rei twitches Shouto barrels into her leg.

She scoops him up and puts them both in a chair. His fine hair brushes her cheek, little hands going around her neck to squeeze tightly. He was always so scared of storms.

“Did you have a nightmare, Shouto?”

“Mmm,” he murmurs.

“What was it about?”

His response is so mumbled Rei can barely hear it. She tucks him a little closer. “Hmm?”

“Dad,” he mutters. “ Fire .”

Rei closes her eyes.

She thinks all the children dream about Enji, one way or another. Rei does, certainly. The fire, and the lightning eyes. Back when in better days she used to dream about a meeting at a teahouse, the sun dappling Rei in light.

Nowadays, in the good dreams, Rei claws his eyes out.

“It’s okay,” she says. She rocks Shouto, and he grabs her tighter. “Its – “

The billowing thunder cuts her off, swallows her words. The lightning imprints white onto Rei’s shuttered eyelids. She opens them, again, when Shouto whimpers, and –

Feels herself go so, so cold.

The frost. Not Rei’s. The frost creeps up his right cheek, a tessellation. His left arm sparks a little row of flame.

He doesn’t even realize it, her Shouto. He doesn’t, and Rei stares, and knows the fear response must have been the trigger factor. What does the trigger matter, though. He has both quirks. He’s all that Enji ever wanted.

And there’s nothing she can do about it. He’ll take Shouto away, just like he did Rei’s eldest.

He’ll take Shouto away.

Oh no no no.

“Mama?” Shouto says, peeking up, then startling, looking down at himself, and Rei seizes him by the shoulders with the no echoing in her head. “Shouto. Shouto sweetheart,” she says, urgently, and Shouto’s eyes go wide and blinking. “Can you do mama a favour?” Rei can’t imagine how her expression right now, but it doesn’t matter, because Shouto nods, slowly, and Rei says, “Don’t tell Dad, okay? Don’t ever tell Dad.”

“Okay,” he whispers.

Her grip on him goes slack, fingers trembling. She buries her face into his hair.

Rei breathes.

Enji comes home later that night. They eat dinner, civilly. Rei had barely been able to finish the teriyaki with the revelation sitting heavy in her mind. He doesn’t like the sauce over top. The comment makes her twitch – more than she would usually. Enji doesn’t notice, which is good. Fuyumi does, though, Dabi too. They side eye her worriedly over the table.

It is a very quiet dinner. All family meals are.

Fuyumi, bless her, gives a retelling about her day at school. Natsu pipes up about winning a soccer game.

“Anything else?” says Enji. His gaze flickers to her.

Rei can look back, without the iminent breakdown. It’s getting harder, but she can. Sometimes she feels absolutely nothing at all for him – blank apathy to her core – sometimes the only thing that can encompass the entirety of her hatred is dissonant screaming.

This time there’s the dissonant screaming.

He knows.

He doesn’t. He can’t.

“No,” says Rei, evenly.

The dinner goes back to silence.

Enji finds out, eventually.

Four year olds are not very good at controlling their quirk, but Rei drags on the farce as long as she can. It helps that Enji pays so little attention to the children. Rei keeps Shouto out of sight as often as possible, watches him like a hawk when she can’t, and when Dabi and Fuyumi find out by virtue of proximity, they set up a rotating Russian roulette of Distracting Enji’s Attention. The secret is kept for months, but Enji finds out, eventually.

And Rei goes so very cold.

Enji shouts and Rei doesn’t say anything at all, just stares, blankly, at a wall. She walks out of that encounter with a fresh bruise on her arm that she doesn’t notice, goes into her room and pulls Shouto close. “Mama?” he whispers, tugs at her hair, eyes flared wide with worry, and Rei just breathes, and breathes. It feels like she is regurgitating all of herself with every exhale. Every bit of bone and blood and sinew. She doesn’t notice the tear tracks until they drip onto Shouto’s fine hair.

Enji takes him away, eventually. She thinks she screams. She doesn’t remember. When she blinks again the lamp is broken on the floor, the glass from the bulb scattered at Rei’s feet.

Rei loses time.

She sits in her room by the window. She remembers that. November rains sweet little snowflakes onto the dark bark of bared trees. The grey sky, the incoming snow. The brown leaf decaying.

Her Shouto. Crying. She soothes him. But Enji takes him away again and Enji keeps taking him away and Rei already lost one, her first born, her eldest son. She can’t lose another, she cannot but Enji keeps taking him a w a y

The days pass strangely.

She feels as if she is in a dream. It is November and the skies are grey and Fuyumi is saying: “Mom, please, you need to eat.” Her moon-wide eyes, her careful hands. A soup bowl is in Rei’s lap so Rei eats, and then it is December and the snow pats the window sills like powdered sugar and her Natsu is curled up in Rei’s arms so quietly, even though Natsu shouldn’t be quiet at all, and he asks her, “mom, Dabi says – mom you’re gonna be okay right?” so Rei hums his favourite lullaby. She watches as the skies clear to velvet stars and the snow crusts into ice and her children pass, and then one day, Dabi, entering the room, except the only thing Rei sees is the lightning in his eyes and the red of his hair and her next movement is just violent motion and – v

Fuyumi is saying: “Mom, MOM!” And she’s so afraid, why is she afraid – and of course it’s Enji it’s always Enji and –

She comes back to herself, eventually.

“Oh,” she says, one day, brushing Fuyumi’s hair, and then breaks down sobbing and then Fuyumi just looks at her, so still, until Rei moves to hug her close enough to crush ribs and gasp, “Sweetie, darling, Fuyumi-chan Fuyumi-chan ,” and then Fuyumi breaks down sobbing too and then Natsu, following. It’s such a mess. All of them forget about the salmon on the stove until it burns. The fire alarm and the acrid smoke sends Rei into breakdown all over again.

“I’m so sorry,” she gasps, into Fuyumi’s hair. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Rei breathes. She has to.

They clean up the salmon. Rei does the dishes while Fuyumi wipes Natsu’s nose. Afterwards they sit at the kitchen table and Rei, world refocused, puts her head into her hands.

“I’m going to. I’m going to try.” Rei says.

That was what the last few months weren’t. The last few months were Rei locking herself in and everything else out. She’s almost afraid of the look on Fuyumi’s face when she raises her head, but Rei’s daughter only goes very still, and says, “Okay. Okay,” in a tired, quaking voice.

They try.

All of them do. Rei and Fuyumi and Dabi and Natsu, and little Shouto, trying the hardest of all of them. The elder three of Rei’s children do their best to run interference in quiet, discreet, ways. They’re not allowed to spend time with Shouto, not anymore so Rei glues Shouto to her side as much as allowed. He cries as much as she cries, and Rei cries so frequently and so terribly hard, as if trying to make up for the past months in her trance where she felt nothing at all, as if she has lost all sway or reason over her emotions.

Rei soothes salves that smells of thyme over Shouto’s bruises and salves that smells of rosemary-honey over his burns. He’s four. He’s too young. She wants to scream this at Enji’s face. Rei could do that, once. These days everything louder than a whisper is locked in her throat.

She dreams of clawing Enji’s eyes out. She doesn’t sleep very much.

Rei tries.

It’s not enough.

One morning she is thirty-four years old and the scream from the training rooms is deafening. Rei registers first: scream, and then: Fuyumi , and she’s out of her room in half a second and a pounding heart. She passes by Enji just around a turn, the front door slamming shut behind him. He has a conference today, of course, she remembers. But if he’s gone why is Fuyumi –

And then Natsu starts screaming too.

Rei has her answer two steps into the training room that smells distinctly of burning and smoke, and he wasn’t made for this, her baby boy, her firstborn son, he has too much of Rei’s ice in him.

“Fuyumi.” She presses her hand to her temple. Breathes. “Fuyumi call the hospital.”

The salves aren’t going to do much.

In the ambulance the paramedic asks her exactly what happened. She stares at him mutely. What do you think happened. But before Rei can do or say anything at all Fuyumi takes over, “Oh, you know, nii-san’s quirk doesn’t really work well,” she tells the paramedic. “It’s the genetic mosaicism. Some of him isn’t entirely resistant to his fire quirk, but he’s been trying to train for U.A. entrance exams so…” and looks equal parts devastated but also abashed.

Which is true, on all parts, apart from where Dabi’s quirk “doesn’t work well” and the actual reason Rei’s eldest is stuck in an ambulance.

Rei puts her hands into her face.

They’ve all gotten so good at lying through their teeth. She wants to laugh, or maybe weep. It’s a trained obedience.

At the hospital they’re given a private room. Or, Dabi is. Rei plus the remaining children, all three, spill in.

The doctors tell her the burns are quite severe but treatable. He also has a broken wrist and a concussion, which was why he hadn’t woken up at all in the training room. The doctors tell her they have a doctor with a healing quirk that will come in immediately. They ask her about the wrist and the concussion, and once again Rei stares, and once again Fuyumi takes over and tells the doctor about the how the explosive force of her brother’s quirk probably knocked him into a wall, thus both wrist injury and concussion.

The medical staff can match it with Dabi’s records. It makes perfect sense.

The doctor with the healing quirk arrives four hours later, after Rei has soothed Shouto to a nap and Natsu has bounced his way around the room enough times to drive a person to dizziness and Rei is clutching at the bed sheets in white-knuckled anxiety. He makes a note on his medical chart. He asks her a few questions. His bedside manner is good but Rei is too distracted to pay it any attention. And then he puts his hands onto her son’s chest and the burns fade, and Rei breathes.

His face looks as if he is sleeping. The red hair, feathering over his brow. The cut of his cheeks are sharp as a ship’s prows. And when was the last time she hugged him. When was the last time she touched him.

Rei grips his hand tight.

He wakes up half an hour later, stirring groggily, and barely gets out half a discontented murmur before Fuyumi’s flinging herself onto him.

“You dimwit.” Her mouth’s scrunched wretchedly and she’s looking once again on the verge of tears, but this time they’re as furious as they are worried. “You – don’t provoke him. ” And then she’s burying her face into his shirt.

“Sis – “

“Nii-saaaan!” Natsu wails, and Dabi’s next word is shut off in favour of Natsu launching into his ribs.

Rei pulls him in by the bony shoulders and Shouto ends up squished between the four of them, and she cries, and Fuyumi cries, again, because that’s the only thing they seem to be doing lately, and her eldest says, “– mom?” all uncertain, and Rei cries harder.

How did Rei get here? How did Rei get here?

This hospital room with her eldest son under the sheets and her daughter so good at lying and Natsu wailing and, Shouto, poor sweet Shouto, and Rei, herself who flinches at every little thing and jumps at shadows, who chokes on the smells of thyme, and antiseptic. Rei, who cannot look her own son in the face without feeling heat skitter across her skin, the force of a blow across her cheekbone, who is so, so very terribly sad, to the point it freezes her. This Rei who holds her silences, and cries when the emotion in her chest threatens to choke her, who cannot fight back and is resigned to it, almost, to this fate.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, ” cries Rei, for not being braver, for not leaving when they should have, and her eldest looks at her with his red hair falling over his lightning eyes. He puts his head to her collarbone, featherlight, and she feels his shoulders heave with his shudder.

“It’s not your fault,” he says.

But it is.

If she had been braver. If they had left earlier. But she wasn’t. But they didn’t. And now they’re here, the five of them, her eldest in his white hospital gown, smelling like smoke and fire, the thyme and sharp hospital plastics, and oh, he wasn’t made for this. None of them were.

Rei breathes. She has to.

Eventually, Natsu tires himself out with the hysterics. He falls asleep right there, between Fuyumi and Dabi and the headboard. “Little icepop?” mutters Dabi, and Fuyumi grabs a pillow and whacks her brother on the head with it.

“You are such a jerk,” she tells him, and then beds down to Natsu’s left. Dabi makes a face; she wrinkles her nose at him.

A nurse enters briefly to tell Rei they’ll be keeping Dabi in observation a little longer. “Oh,” she says. The nurse makes a note. Rei watches her back, as she leaves, before Shouto’s wide yawn steals her attention. His lashes flutter, the dark and the pale. He curls up against Rei’s breast with a drowsy noise, and Rei hums him to sleep, and then tucks him next to Dabi’s side, where he drools all over his brother’s hospital gown.

“Mom?” murmurs Fuyumi, eyes shuttering too. Her moon-wide eyes behind her square glasses. Rei takes the glasses off, and folds them, and places them gently on the bedside table.

The sun that filters through the thin curtains dapples them in light. Rei just watches, breathes. It’s been so long since all four of them have been at her fingertips.

She brushes the hair from Dabi’s brow. She holds his hand, tight. “Shh,” she says to Natsu, when he stirs.

The hours tick by.

Eventually, Rei falls asleep in the hospital chair.

She does not dream.

AO3

#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha fanfiction #todoroki rei #todoroki shouto #todoroki enji #todorki fuyumi #dabi #dabi is a todoroki theory #mentions of child abuse #domestic abuse

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angstybadboytrash · 5 years

Text

||Voice of Treason|| Chapter 8

[DABI X OC]

Summary: Hanako Yamada is tired of living in her brother’s shadow, so when an old friend comes back into her life, she can’t help but take a chance and make a new name for herself alongside the League of Villains.

Chapter: | Masterlist |

A/N: Hello friends! Here is another chapter. I’m gonna be honest l didnt even know where this was going to go when I started this chapter but this seemed like the only possible ending. Don’t hate me please! I promise that things will get bette just bear with me! I honestly don’t know if anyone is reading this but I have dreams lol

Please please please like and comment because I would really enjoy some feedback on this.

Reblog to be put on the tag list

Tags: @fridgesbestfriend @princedabi @nightkidd-hd @gaylemonsmutfluff @dark-eyed-dream @sweetycue @aarinisreading

It was silent on what was supposed to be a battlefield. The only thing heard was the crunch of rubble under the boots of failed heroes. Concerned glances were shared between comrades as they struggled to figure out what had just happened. All Might was the first to break the silence.

“Woods, Mt. Lady. Search the building. Bring me anything you think would assist in finding their new location.” The young Pros nodded and headed off to gather intel.

“Endeavor. Do you have any idea who that boy was who stood with Hana? He seemed to know you and Hana mimicked you. Is there anything you want to share?” All Might crossed his arms infront of his chest. Endeavor was still in shock and was completely zoned out into the distance as every memory from that cursed day hit him at once.

“Hey dad, I need to talk to you about something. I need your advice.” A baby faced, fresh out of UA Touya Todoroki stood infront of his fathers desk. He was busy filling out papers from that days incident and he was already irritated. He glanced up at his son and gave him a look that said ‘go on’.

“Okay well you see, um, I have been dating Hana for a while now and I think, um, I think I want to-“

“Break up with her? Good idea son. I fully support it.” Enji cut his son off without even looking up. He had never really supported Touya and Hana because he would have preferred his son to marry a girl with a powerful quirk. Make the Todoroki name proud with strong grandchildren that could surpass him one day.

“Oh my god again with this bullshit?! No I am not breaking up with her dad. You know what never mind. I was gonna get your blessing but never fucking mind.” Touya pinched the bridge of his nose before throwing his hand away and shoving it in his pocket to match his other hand.

Enji looked up from his papers to see a very frustrated Touya. “That harlot doesn’t deserve you son. You could do so much better! Her quirk is weak and your children would be useless. You need to focus on the important task at hand. Becoming the number one hero.” He stood from his desk and slowly made his way around the edge of it. When he reached the center of it he leaned back to sit on it and crossed his arms over his chest in an attempt to intimidate his son.

Touya’s face became so flushed with anger that his face was almost the same shade of red as his hair. Endeavor was right infront of him now and he was pissed. How dare he talk about his beloved that way? He didn’t give a shit about becoming number one, he just wanted to be with the woman he loved.

“Fuck you. I’m not ending anything with Hana. I love her and you’re just gonna have to deal with it.” Touya pulled his hands out of his pockets to prevent his pants from catching fire. He was extremely close to setting off his quirk and he was gonna lose it if another asshole remark came out of his father’s mouth.

“Have you really not learned a single thing from me? You’re an idiot Touya. You don’t love her she’s just a distraction and you need to end it.” Enji stood his ground and he wasn’t going to let this relationship slide any longer. He had already found a suitable bride for his son he just need to get him to end it with Hana.

“No she isn’t! You wouldn’t know shit about love. I don’t think you love mom, or literally any of your children! You’re just a fucking sperm donor to this family. I’m gonna ask Hana to marry me and nothing’s gonna stop me.” Touyas hand lit aflame he pointed an accusatory finger at his father. He was practically boiling with anger and he was sick of this bullshit.

“No son of mine will ever marry trash like Hanako Yamada! You’re forbidden.” Enji scoffed at his sons ignorance and that just made Touya angrier. This conversation was over and he was leaving.

“You can’t stop me from doing shit. I’m marrying her. I knew getting your blessing was bullshit. Goodbye.” Touya turned and went to leave but he didn’t even make it two steps before a ball of hellflame blasted him into the large oak door. He feel to his knees and rushed to his feet and raised his arms in an X to attempt to block the blow he knew was coming.

Endeavor didn’t throw a punch like he usually did, instead he grabbed both of Touya’s forearms. Hellfire licked its way up Touya’s jacket sleeves, burning the clothing and the flesh underneath. Touya screamed out in pain as his flesh surely scarred, he threw his head to the side so he wouldn’t have to look at his father while silent tears slipped down his cheeks.

“Don’t you DARE walk away from me ever again. I won’t tolerate behavior like this and you’ll be punsished for it. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be trash just like her and then she won’t even want you. Look at me! Do you hear me?!” Endeavor let go of one of Touya’s arms to grab his chin and forced him to look at him. The flesh of his cheeks burned under the heat of his dim hellflame. More tears poured down Touya’s cheeks as he tried to swallow his sobs.

“Hero’s don’t cry. You’re pathetic. Just like her.” Enji removed his hand from Touya’s chin so that he could place his pointer and pinky fingers directly under Touya’s eyes, burning away the tears and flesh. Touya was brutally scarred both mentally and physically. Touya blasted Endeavor back with the arm he let go of and he ran from the office, and he ran from the house and then he ran a little further from the town he used to call home. He ran from Hana, and he ran from his past self because now he was scarred, and ugly, and he was a monster.

Enji was the reason his son looked like that and he was the reason why they had a funeral because he didn’t think Touya would survive those injuries. He was the reason why his son dissappeared for two years. He was the reason why his son became a villain because he didn’t want him to marry the girl he loved. This was all his fault.

“Endeavor? Endeavor? Enji!” All Might’s voice shook him from his memory. He was dazed and confused and now extremely upset with himself. He shook his head in an an attempt to shake away the thoughts.

“I’m sorry what?” Endeavor turned to look at a very concerned All Might.

“I asked you a question. Do you know the boy who was with Hana? We need to confirm his identity but no one is sure.” All Might still stood with his arms crossed against his chest. Before Enji could respond, Kamui Woods and Mt. Lady approached them with two peices of paper in hand.

“They didn’t leave anything behind. But we did find these on one of the beds up stairs.” My. Lady handed over the papers to All Might.

“All Might! Did you find anything in the building?” Eraserhead seemed to have appeared out of nowhere and behind him trailed a very numb Present Mic. His face was flushed from crying and he honestly looked like shit but who can blame him, his sister was gone. He was extremely zoned out and wasn’t paying attention at all.

“Woods and Mt. Lady found these letters. I was about to read them.” Eraserhead nodded to the man and he began to read the first letter.

“Sorry not sorry,

If you’re reading this you now know that I am no longer Hanako Yamada, but I am the Sound Villain Decible. Which is really cool and you can’t say it’s not because it is. Anyway, sorry for the scare but honestly I have been so much happier in the last year than I ever was. Surprise but it turns out that Touya isn’t dead! I’m literally so fucking happy with him and I just wanted you guys to know that I am safe and sound. And Bakugou is too. He’s not as bad as everyone thinks he is but he will be a very valuable asset to the League.

Bye forever, talk to you never 🖤

Decible”

“Well at least there’s something for family, and if we know anything about Hana, she’s gonna keep Bakugou safe.” Mt. Lady sighed deeply knowing that Mic was struggling to keep his composure.

“You’re right. And now we know that this ‘Dabi’ character’s name might be Touya. Here’s the next note.”

“Fuck you Endeavor,

Long time no talk. I heard you declared me dead but hey guess what, I’m still alive. I’m coming for you old man and guess what, I’m gonna fucking do it. I’m gonna do the thing you hated most. I’m finally gonna ask her and it’s gonna be amazing. I love her with all my heart. I hope you have a shitty life and that you vividly remember the pain you caused me. You’re the reason I look like this and I can’t wait to see the news report on “Pro-Hero Endeavor is abusive according to family and he brutally scarred his son so badly he became a villain.” I can’t wait to see you dig yourself out of this hole. Say hi to mom for me and tell my siblings I’m living my best life.

Once again fuck you,

Dabi”

Endeavor sighed and ran both of his hands down his face before putting them on his hips. He turned on his heel to face away from the other pros. He had hoped that he had covered up his mistake by declaring him dead but that would have been too easy. Now this was just the beginning of shit show that Enji was going to have to go through because of his mistake. Everything was at stake and he was going to have to pay the consequences.

“Endeavor, I wasn’t going to say anything but this letter confirms it. Dabi is Touya Todoroki isn’t he?” Kamui Woods spoke up from behind him. Kamui had his suspicions from the first letter but now he knew the truth. He had know Touya from school and now that he knew his father was the reason for his disappearance, he wanted justice for Touya. He was the reason why Touya became the Villain Dabi.

Endeavor turned halfway to look at the young pro before let out a deep breath. “Sadly, yes...” Endeavor pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. He still couldn’t believe what had just unfolded infront of him. His son Touya was still alive, he was a villain, and he was still going to marry Hana. Honestly, it was the worst news he had ever received.

“In this letter he claims you were the one to brutally scar him, is that true? He also said he was finally gonna do it, the thing you hated most? What is that?” All Might folded the letter up for safe keeping in case Endeavor tried to get it.

“The scars were... an accident. He wouldn’t listen to me! He- he was just soooo persistent on asking that disgrace to marry him and I was completely against it. He didn’t care and claimed it was love. I thought it was foolish and a distraction.” Endeavor was slowing getting frustrated as he thought of the past memory. His flame got hotter and brighter in response.

“You can’t brutally scar someone on accident. How do we know you didn’t do it on purpose.” Shoto Aizawa spoke up. Something wasn’t sitting right with him and he wanted to know the real truth.

“I was doing what was best for him! If he married her he would never become number one!” Endeavor glared at the pro who had started crossing a line.

“How would you know? He never even got the chance. You can’t punish a child for loving something, that’s just cruel.” Aizawa was glaring at Enji with a burning hatred. He knew that if he pushed his buttons hard enough, he would confess.

“He didn’t love her! It was lust. It was a distraction that lasted too long. I should have ended it from the beginning but he was persistent and refused. It was infuriating.” The heat of Endeavor’s flame continued to rise. Anger was boiling in his stomach.

“Why did you want him to end it so badly? Were you going to force him into a loveless quirk marriage like you did? When you told him and he refused, he disobeyed your orders so you punished him for standing up for his own happiness, didn’t you?” Aizawa struck a cord and he knew it. His quirk was activated in a flash and dodged to the side catching Enji’s fist in his scarf.

“Did I get it right?” Aizawa had gotten his proof. It was a confession but it was enough. He had witnesses and letters as evidence.

Endeavor was about to explode he was so angry. “I did what was best for him! I am his father and I know what’s best for him and marrying that bitch was not what was best! This is all her fucking fault! She corrupted my son and she’s gonna pay!!!”

“Enji Todoroki, you’re under arrest for domestic abuse, child abuse, and attempted murder. Anything you say can and will be held against you.”

#dabi #dabi is a todoroki #dabi x oc #dabi x reader #league of villians #voice of treason #all might #endeavor #present mic #mt. lady #kamui woods #toshinori yagi #enji todoroki #yamada hizashi #eraserhead #aizawa shota #todoroki shouto

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elfiethewickedcancelled · 7 years

Text

I want talk to be about bipolar!Grantaire for a minute or two?

Okay so this is mostly based on my own experiences and I'm far from an expert so bare with me

As a child Grantaire was always either hyperactive or really low

Some day he would run around, talk a mile a minute, draw on the walls, on the floor, on *everything* he was just so *happy* those days that his mother overlooked all the bad sides of it. On those days he couldn't shut up in class but he did his homework ever time

On the other days, on the bad days, he was slow and sad, barely talked and didn't touch a paintbrush or crayon. he didn't interrupt his classes but skipped homework when he got home. His mother tried her best to cheer him up but he was just... low

Of course he had normal days too when he was just like any other kid

He continued like this into his teenage years but the year after he started collage he fell into a deep depressive state

Luckily he had Joly ad Bossuet that tried their best to get him out of bed, if not to his classes then to the park, or even just the supermarket

This depressive period lasted about three months and Joly were starting to think about dragging Grantaire to the doctors office when suddenly one day they come into the apartment to find R painting

He had been out for a walk where he'd seen these beautiful flowers, in just the right light and he just had to go home and paint them, and for once that energy had stayed,

He was happy and produced so many paintings, he even followed them to the meetings at the Musain

Where he happily took part in tearing apart the beautiful marble mans speeches

After a few weeks though that the energy fades and he gets low again, Joly is worried he might get sick again. he stops painting, he stops leaving the house he stops coming to the meetings and if they drag him with them he sits in the back staring into the wall behind Enjoras

This goes on back and forth for a few months while his "up" periods becomes more intense and his "down" periods becomes longer

it isn't until Joly finds him still painting where he left him three days ago, he has barley eaten and not slept at all that someone realises something might be wrong

still it's written off as "artistic behaviour"

He gets more fired up in his speeches - almost competes with Enjolras – but he is also more and more incoherent.

In the end it's Enjolras who realises something is wrong. He comes over to Grantaire, sees the place in a mess - he almost thinks someone broke in - he can't find Grantaire anywhere but he sees a door to the roof open and goes up there. On the roof Grantaire stands with his arms stretched out, Enjolras stands next to him and R turn to him has says "Look Enjy I'm flying" an points to a bird. He is there, but at the same time he is not - he is looking at something only he can see.

Enjolras's who've suspected for sometime now, done his reading on the subject manages to get R to the hospital

There, after taking one look at him, hearing Enjolras story, they give him some pills and Enj manages to convince a nurse that Enjolras is enough to keep an eye on Grantaire and that, yes, he will call for help if something happens

After a few hours R starts to "come down" and Enj explains what they are doing there, R who himself realises something might be up accepts Enjolras offer to stay and figure it out together

He begs him not to call the other amis until they know for sure though

So a doctor come in and after a long line of questions that both R and Enjolras gets to answer they are left alone again but by then R is going "up" again

The night at the hospital ends with Enj listening to r rambling about different subjects

In the morning the doctors come back with a diagnosis of bipolar disorder 1 and prescribe R a starting dose of medicine that he is supposed to take every morning and afternoon

Enjolras follows him home, holds his pills in one hand, E's shaking hand in the other on the way home

When they come back to Enj's apartment (he didn't want to subject R to the mess R had made at his own) he holds him as he cries and cries and cries

Enjolras holds his hand as they call first Joly and Bossuet (who first are furious at E for not calling them earlier until R explains that E probably saved his life and that he wanted to do his on his own - well as much as it counts when E was there

Enjolras holds his hand when they come over

Enjolras holds his hand when he explains it all

Enjolras follows him to his first check up and is there for him during the process

Slowly R becomes more stable his dark days are fewer and lighter, his manic days disappear

That's when he skips his meds

He misses the high highs when he could *paint*

Enjolras is out of town, so Jehan is the one to notice and sooths R into taking his pills again

When R starts tp cry and says that he misses the beauty and the *colour* of the worlds, the energy ,the euphoria

He misses to having his sanity in a pill bottle

Jehan promises to help him find it anyway shows him the beauty in poems in paintings, in flowers, in humans and shows R that you don't need to be high to be happy

And that taking the pills might be worth it if I means R and his friends doesn't have to worry about him going insane

When Enjolras comes back from his trip and his first thing to do is to scold R for skipping his meds and then hug him and say that he is proud of him for getting back on him R realises what Jehan meant because he is happy when he is with his friends, when he go for walks, when he paints but when Enj hugs him the world explodes

the two hardest parts of starting on meds were 1. giving up the highest high, and making the decision to give that up every day, 2 to stop drinking, as meds and alcohol don't mix

when R is six months stable Enj asks him out for dinner to celebrate - when the night is over and E drops R off E asks if he can kiss him

of course he can

He still have days when he is happier then others, he still have days when he has more energy, he still have days when the worlds seem bleak he still have days when he misses the by natural high.

There are some disadvantages , like the fact that he is not allowed to drive a car but all in all he wouldn't trade it for the world - he experiences everything so much stronger then everyone else and with the love an support from his friends the struggles are easier to fight.

and every time Enjolras holds his hand, or he makes his friends laugh or creates a new painting he feels like maybe he doesn't need to be manic to feel like he's walking on the clouds

and that's what I have for now

TL;DR: Bipolar!Grantaire is very important to me

#bipolar!grantaire #grantaire #les mis headcanons #les mis #les mis fanfic #enjolras #jehan #joly #bossuet #linn writes #i'm almost to nervous to post this as it is so personal but i trust this fandom whole heartly

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ashroseevans · 6 years

Text

How Far Will You Go? 21

It took a couple of hours for all of us to bathe and change into our new clothes. Shoto and I left our old ones in the room he and I were going to be sharing and the four of us walked down into the tavern. Izuku smiled at us and stood next to his wife. He told us that starting tomorrow Momo, Kyoka and I would start on as waitresses and Shoto would help him in the kitchen.

Ochaco said that in the mornings before people came in to eat and drink, we might also be sent out to shop for groceries that we would use that day. She promised that by the time we left the village we would know how to take care of ourselves and would be make it on our own. We thanked her and she told us that we could use today to do what we wanted and that work would start in the morning.

Shoto and I decided that we wanted to stay in while Momo and Kyoka decided to go outside and walk around the village, to learn the layout and maybe meet some of the people. When they left, Shoto and I walked back upstairs and retreated to our room. I sat down on the bed and he leaned against the wall.

"I wonder how long we should stay here," I said.

He shrugged. "Probably not more than a couple of weeks," he said. "We need money, but we can't stay in one place for very long. The longer we linger, the closer our parents will be to finding us."

I sighed. "Yeah, I know," I said and lay back down on the bed. "How much longer do you think we'll have to run for?"

"I don't know," he said and looked up at the ceiling. "We're in the Kingdom of Eraserhead if I recall correctly. To the east we have, the Kingdom of Endeavor, north we have the Kingdom of Crimson, and to the south we have the Kingdom of Cementoss. Beyond Eraserhead, there's Gran Torino and past that there’s the Kingdom of All Might."

"All Might..." I said. "I've heard about that place. It's supposed to be ranked number one. The king is kind and caring, Toshinori Yagi, I think his name is. It's a neutral country and bounty hunting there is illegal..." I turned my head and looked at him. "If we made it there, do you think we would be able to stop?"

Shoto pursed his lips in thought. "Yeah. I think that will be far enough," he said. "We can get as close as we can to the capital city and put down roots there."

I smiled at him and held out my hand. He walked over to me and took it before he sat down. He lifted my head and set it down on his leg.

"I can't wait," I said and smiled up at him. "Being with you every day, unafraid of losing you to something we can't control."

He smiled back and nodded. He brushed some of my hair out of my face. "Yeah," he said and bent down to kiss my forehead. "It'll be perfect."

I sat up and kicked off my shoes before I lay down completely on the bed. "Hey, Shoto?" I said.

He looked at me, kicking off his shoes too and laid down next to me. "What?"

I kissed him lightly. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he said and pulled me into his arms.

* * *

Shoto and I fell asleep and we didn't wake up until Momo and Kyoka return. They barged into our room to tell us about their adventure in town, telling us some of the people they met. We were told that a lot of them frequented the tavern and that there was a 100% chance that we would meet them. It wasn't long after that when Izuku and Ochaco brought up plates of dinner for us.

We ate up and when we finished eating, I volunteered to bring the plates back down to the kitchen. The inside of the tavern was completely full of people. And it was loud. I snuck into the kitchen to see Izuku cooking up a storm. I left the dishes in the sink.

"Um... M-Izuku?" I asked.

"Yeah?" he answered, not looking up from his cooking.

"Is it always this busy?"

"Hm? Oh yeah. Usually. We're the only tavern in the village so everyone comes here," he said. "And we all know each other so it's everyone hangs out here to catch up."

"Oh... great," I said, feeling a little nervous. "Thanks."

"No problem," he said.

I left the tavern and walked back upstairs. Shoto was laying back down on the bed and Momo and Kyoka were already in their own room. When I walked into the room, I closed the door and walked up to Shoto, crawling into bed next to him.

"You took a while down there," he noted.

"Hm? Oh yeah. I wanted to ask Izuku something," I said. "And the tavern was packed. It was a little overwhelming."

He rolled over on his side and put a hand on my hip, the other pillowing his head. "You'll be fine tomorrow," he said and kissed my forehead.

"I suppose..." I answered and closed my eyes.

He rested his forehead against mine. "Just so you know," he said. "I'm the jealous type."

I opened my eyes and blinked a few times. His eyes were closed. "What? Where did this come from?"

He shook his head. "I was just thinking about starting work tomorrow while you were gone, you being a waitress," he said. "I've been to taverns in the past and I know that some of the patrons flirt with the waitresses, either to get more drinks or just because they think they're attractive."

My eyebrows knitted together. "So you psyched yourself out?" I said and sighed. He shrugged and I kissed his nose gently. "You don't need to worry about anything, Shoto. You're the only one for me."

He tightened his arm around me, pulling me into him, and opened his eyes. "As are you," he said and kissed me.

* * *

Work started the next morning. We were woken up bright and early and after breakfast, Ochaco showed Kyoka, Momo and I how to properly be waitresses. She taught us how to hold the trays of food and drinks and serve them to the customers. She ever had us practice, giving us real plates of food and drinks to pass around. It honestly wasn't as hard as I was expecting.

Kyoka was a natural because she was the most balance out of the three of us girls due to her combat training. Momo was better than me because she had actually taken her etiquette lessons seriously. Me on the other hand, was a bit more klutzy then my sister and her girlfriend, but after a few tries, and a couple broken plates, I managed to be pretty good at it.

Shoto training, on the other hand, was rather comical. Izuku tried to teach him how to cook, but Shoto's only forte was the hot chocolate he would bring me in the library when we were at the castle. A lot of his dishes turned into charcoal because he either forgot it was heat was on or left it in the oven way too long. Izuku sighed every time, but he was patient. Every time Shoto messed up, Izuku gently told him what he did wrong and how he would be able to fix it. By the time the tavern opened up to the general populace Shoto's cooking improved enough that the dishes he made were acceptable to serve.

When the tavern opened, work began in earnest. Villagers walked in one by one and took seats. Momo, Kyoka and I did our best to take their orders in a timely fashion and bring out their food. True to what Shoto had told me, some of the patrons tried to flirt with us. A man around our age, named Denki Kaminari tried flirting with Kyoka. Momo was about to intervene, but before she got a chance, Kyoka smiled politely before using her earphone jack and plugged it into Denki's head, causing him to get a jolt. His friends, who were named Eijiro Kirishima and Hanta Sero laughed at him and told him better luck next time.

I couldn't help but laugh as I served a girl who was invisible named Tooru Hagakure and her boyfriend Mashirao Ojiro. They chatted with me as I served them, telling about their King Shota Aizawa and gossip that circulated around him. When they asked, I told them a little about my home kingdom, though I didn't tell them the name of it. We chatted and the offered to show me and my boyfriend around the town the next day and I told them that I would be delighted. Tooru called it a double date and I couldn't help but laugh.

When I went back to the counter I noticed a boy, also our age, who had a bird like head and wore black. Ochaco introduced me to him, saying his name was Fumikage Tokoyami and that he used to help around a few years back before he got a job at the local blacksmiths. I politely chatted with him, finding him to be a pretty interesting person, even though it was mostly me doing the talking. I was just about to bring Tooru and Mashirao's food to them when the tavern doors open and a man in a full suit of armor walked in.

Kyoka, Momo and I froze and the entire tavern went silent. It wasn't until the man took off his helmet did everyone laugh and throw forks at the guy.

"Damn it, Tenya!" called Eijiro from the other side of the table. "How many times do we have to tell you not to come in here with your armor on?"

"Yeah! You scared us half to death!" Denki added. "We thought you were one of those jackasses from Endeavor!"

"Sorry," the knight, Tanya, said. "I get so used to wearing it during the day, I forgot."

I frowned and looked at Ochaco and Fumikage. "What did Denki mean by that?"

Ochaco frowned. "Oh um..."

"For years knights from the Kingdom of Endeavor have been coming around," Fumikage said. "Trying to spread propaganda and get us to annex ourselves and join with them."

I frowned. "Really? I... never heard of that."

"Neither have I," Shoto said and came from the kitchen, holding a plate of food and placed it in front of Fumikage.

"It's not like it's something that would be well known," Fumikage said. "They come in secret, disguised as merchant caravans. I heard from some friends in a neighboring village that they go there as well, so I'm guessing they've been trying to get to as many of the border villages of Eraserhead to turn traitor."

Ochaco sighed. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you guys," she said. "I didn't want you to think you had to leave."

Fumikage raised an eyebrow at us. "You're from Endeavor?"

Shoto nodded. "We're runaways," he said.

"I see," he said and took a bite of his food, looking deep in thought. "A lot of us have been thinking that King Enji has been trying to start a war with King Shota."

Shoto frowned. "I see..." he said. "Thanks for the information...?"

"Fumikage."

Shoto nodded. "Thank you, Fumikage."

"My pleasure."

Shoto walked back into the kitchen and Ochaco and I exchanged a glance. I resolved to talk to him about that later this evening when we went to bed.

I looked at Fumikage. "Would it be too much trouble to ask if you could somehow let us know if you think that knights from Endeavor are going to pay us a visit?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No. It's no trouble at all."

"Thank you," I said before I went back to work.

I brought Tooru and Ojiro their food and drinks and went around getting more food orders from the rest of the patrons. The night went smoothly and I shared a few words with the knight known as Tanya Iida. He was a kind man, if not a stickler for rules and regulations. He was the same age as Ochaco and Izuku, having been childhood friends of theirs.

The night came to a close and everyone left, leaving payment on the table, including some nice tips for Momo, Kyoka and I. We gave all the money to Ochaco and Izuku and they counted out how much was owed for the food before giving the rest to the three of us. We in turn gave it to Shoto who put it in his money pouch before we retreated to our rooms.

Read more My Hero Academia Stories (and others) here

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #todoroki #todoroki x yaoyorozu #yaoyorozu #how far will you go

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