#and if for sme reason his baby's favorite is shouto?

[undermine-the-instinct]

Oof, to add on to the relunctant AbsentDad!Touya, courtesy of @willowser....

Hell breaks loose the day your daughter calls Shouto otō.

You can't really play it off. Shouto and Otō both rhyme, but your daughter is very articulate for her age, only two, nearly three, and she said it with perfect clarity. 

It's one of those family dinners that the Todoroki's have once a month. Fuyumi does most of the cooking, but everyone is obligated to bring a dish. 

And you don't have the last name, but they all welcome you so readily, and your daughter loves them all. She loves her uncle Natsuo, who picks her up and throws her up in the air. Her aunt fuyumi, who cooks good food and always gives hugs. Sweet and calm baba rei, with her cool hands. And even jiji enji, who sometimes picks her up, so tiny in his giant hands. You always watch them carefully.

But her favorite is Shouto. He learned how to make little ice orbs for when she was teething. He lets her 'braid' his hair. Rattle the little canisters on his hero suit. Heats up her food when she lets it go cold.

Shouto was trying to feed your baby in her high chair, that she's getting too big for, while she kept shaking her head and turning away. No trains, or airplanes, or birds or dragons would make her open up. Finally she yelled,

"No, otō!!" 

And the room fell silent. Your daughter, oblivious, just kicks her feet and leans farther away from the spoon. You have frozen, passing a platter onto Natsuo.

No one moves. Your daughter continues to kick her feet.

"...Oji. You mean Oji, right baby?" She looks at you, confused. She points to Enji.

"No! Jiji is jiji. Otō is Otō!"

"Shouto is Oji. Oji. Natsuo is Oji too, okay?" She still looks confused, and you repeat yourself. She nods.

She opens her mouth to say something but Shouto attacks, putting the spoon in her mouth, gently of course. And she knows better than to spit food out, so she swallows, albeit with a disgusted look on her face.

"See? It wasn't that hard, right?" She pinches her face and nods.

"I'm sorry. But if you eat all your food, I'll make you those ice lamas you like to munch on." Shouto smiles, imperceptibly,  when she nods eagerly this time, and he continues to feed her.

________

The tension stays, but the night goes on without a fuss. You feel an absence, like the cool imprint of air after someone moves out of your space. Your stomach rolls, appetite gone.

The next morning, you hear on the news that seven people have been burnt to cinders. The estimated amount is only seven, because only teeth were what was left in the ashes. Pro heroes most definitely, or some politician whose scandal will be thrown to the light soon.

You swallow against the dry patch in your throat. You turn off the tv, glad your daughter is still sleeping.

He doesn't try to hide what he did, and the next time you see him its a video, uploaded to YouTube, prancing and shouting more than laughing. He's got more burns now. He's laughing so hard the staples on his face are falling off, tearing him open. His burnt eye patch things are bleeding. Something aches inside you.

________

You don't know why you save the video. It's taken down two hours later.

Every month you find a check, some large sum of money, inside your apartment. Always somewhere obvious-on the counter, atop the fridge, on your desk or your pillow, today. The amount has been increasing lately. You see him more in the news now.

Ever since you moved to a new, nicer neighborhood there have been no footsteps creaking in the night, no doors wincing as they were let open. No figures looming in the shadows a street, a block away, watching over you, though you know he still does.  Just too far, too hurt and too busy to do it in person. Maybe that's a good thing. You think his hands would ignite, if he saw what you do right now.

Fuyumi being in your apartment and helping out is okay, but not Shouto. Shouto shouldn't be in your apartment too, much less cradling your baby, half asleep in his arms.

Its only been a couple of days since the dinner incident. More bodies have been found, properties destroyed. You all know who did it. Its an unspoken knowledge. And the death toll only keeps rising, somehow, everytime your daughter slips and calls Shouto, otō. They haven't made the connection yet. You have.

She likes Shouto because he's warm, she says. And cool. Everyone else is cold and nice, and you don't really see jiji much, nor do you want to, so Shouto is her favorite. You think she would've loved Touya. He was always warm.

Is, is. Sometimes you have to remind yourself he's alive, somewhere.

Shouto is just happy to be of service, he says. He's not good with kids. He just wants to be a good oji-san to his little niece. Just wants to make sure she's healthy, happy. It's sweet. You know his intentions are pure when he smiles down at her. Your stomach twists, anxious, anyways. You are waiting for something. 

You don't wait long. For the first time in years, you get a phone call. Unknown caller. You pick up.

He doesn't say anything for a while. He just breathes, and he sounds bad. There's a rasp, a delay-like he has to drag each breath in and out his chest. Still, he speaks first.

"...That's my baby." You sigh, and that only fans the flames.

"That's my baby. Mine. Not fucking his."

"Of course, I know."

"Than why the fuck is she calling him that? Huh? Why the fuck is she calling someone else dad?"

"Because kids aren't dumb. They see things. They ask questions. They try to fill in the blanks any way they know how. That's why Touya." It's the first time you said his name, to him at least, in years. It doesn't feel like it.

"I corrected her. It's not even a habit. I'm working on it." He scoffs, mumbles the words back to you, but you hear what he doesn't say.

You search for the words, but you seem to have said it all in your last talk. You are standing, unsure and wary, and it's like a liminal space. Time doesn't exist here. Like you could reach out and pluck your last moments together out of thin air, inspect them in the moonlight.

"It was just Father's day, and people, stupid people were asking questions. No one came, except me, and she was sad." You explain. 

"She's just…trying to make sense of things. I'll sort it out.  Shouto is her favorite anyway so that's why she called him that." He snorts, and you imagine fire came with it, like a dragon.

"...Yeah. Shouto seems to be everyone's favorite." There, the root of it all. Your voice is small, but you take a chance. You still want to comfort him, after all these years.

"Not my favorite."

He pauses, scoffs.

"Really? Because he seems to come over to your place a lot. Helping with the chores, I guess?"

"Touya."

"Picking the baby up from daycare? Taking her to the parks and shit? Helping you pick out clothes and little booties? The fuck?" He's really been watching, keeping an eye on you two, his girls. You think a few years ago you would have been flattered. You're just tired now.

"You know Natsuo does the same thing."

"My baby doesn't call fucking him otō, does she?" He laughs, just like in the video.

"Doesn't he offer you breaks, from the baby? Go relax, or, you deserve this, you work hard enough. I'll pay for whatever, or, let me treat you."

"You know he's dense. He doesn't know what he's insinuating."

He laughs again, hoarse. You wonder where he is.

"He's a man now, of course he does. And you do too. Didn't think I was so replaceable." You go silent, angry, and he takes that as his sign.

"Do you like him? Is he pretty enough for you? Rich enough? Is he everything you've ever dreamed of and more?"

"Touya."

"What, got something to say? I don't want your apologies."

"I don't need to apologize because I've done nothing wrong." He starts to say something but you cut him off, fuming.

"Why are you calling Touya? Why? You don't get to say shit after all these years. You chose not to be a part of this."

"But that's still my fucking baby!"

"You've never even held her! You're never there, you don't want to be there!"

"Don't fucking say that, you know why I cant--"

"Does it matter why? You're still not here."

"So you found someone who is? Perfect fucking Shouto, huh?"

"Touya!" You throw your hand up. You should have never answered the phone.

"The perfect fucking prince, am I right? Are you fucking him, huh? Does he make you say his name when he fucks you? Do you cry when he makes you ride him?"

"Touya!"

"Tell me! Don't be shy now. You got a new man, let me hear about it! Does he rock the baby to sleep and sing her lullabies? Does he make it snow for her when she asks? Does he kiss you both when he leaves for work? The baby already calls him otō. Are you gonna give him a baby too?"

"Touya!" You say his name. You don't know when you've started crying.

"Touya. She's sleeping right now." You don't see or hear it, but you feel the anger leave him. Like smoking hands, going limp as you cry.

"We have a baby. We have a baby girl, and she's right next door." He curses when your breath hitches.

"...fuck, I know. I know."

"You can't yell at me. She's sleeping right now."

"I know, I'm sorry baby, I'm sorry."

"She won't go back to sleep if she wakes up now."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry baby. Fuck. I'm so fucking sorry." You think he'd cry if he could. His breath is ragged enough as is.

The line on both ends is quiet, as you try to calm down. Touya just listens to you,your sniffles and aborted sobs. He sighs. He sounds tired too.

"Just, go to sleep. I'm sorry I called, fuck. Just, go to sleep. Give our baby a kiss for me." And he hangs up, before you can say anything. You hang onto the phone.

Then you leave, to go kiss your baby.

You stay in that room, that spot for a moment more, lost in time.