#this is 5295 words

[hiraeth-sonder]

To the River of that Day -あの日の川

Dabi/Todoroki Touya x Reader - Fix-it AU

Area transmigrator gets cheated by a system error and ends up in a slice-of-life despite the odds

TW: Cussing, character death, descriptions of severe injuries such as burns, blunt-force trauma and hypoxemia, brief mentions of hypothetical grooming (nothing actually happens), canonical child abuse, spoilers for the entire Todoroki family lore, possible OOC characters and unreliable narrator my love

//This is a rewrite since I hate myself. Halfway through I think I started writing a comedy. This is very indulgent and wish fulfilment-y.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Dying is very often not a process just anyone remembers. Actually, dying is a process no one remembers, because anyone who knows is dead. 

Of course, you thought you would be in that majority yet here you are. 

After what might have been a very stupid, no good decision to use your electric blanket in the coldest room of your life, as well as somehow peacefully sleeping through the inevitable fire that soon started, you awaken to a dark void as well as a blaringly bright blue screen. You squint your eyes in slight strain, rubbing them with the heel of your hands. 

[New assignment received. New user registered.]

[User objective recognised: Peaceful Life]

[Access for protocol 5295 granted: NPC function, shop function.]

Staring at the blue interface, though your body, if you could even call it a body with the way you were both keenly aware of its weightlessness and each and every tendon in your form, was floating amidst the cushiony emptiness, you drifted closer towards the screen as the Google Translate-esque voice echoed from all around you. You squint your eyes, trying to make out the words. 

[Welcome user 888 to the afterlife relocation interface! As per protocol 2454, user will be soon directed to user customisation to prepare for transmigration.]

Transmigration huh. Well, you’ll be happy even as an NPC and unlike those idiot protagonists that say that and don’t mean it, you will remain an NPC. You won’t interfere with the main character, you won’t try to cosy up with the main antagonist, you won’t make unnecessarily stupid decisions and you’ll communicate, like a normal human being. 

Brought to a character customisation screen not so unlike those in video games, there was a large mirror and a bunch of little settings for you to fiddle with. Though you would be all but absorbed into the customisation, a little tab caught your attention. 

‘Human’

With a tentative hand, you click on it and a long list of races drops down. Of course, it wasn’t too long and based on some of the options, you could make a precarious guess as to what kind of world you were going to be dropped into. Kitsune, various types of tsukumogami, yūrei, and interestingly enough, tatsu. Or ryu, ryo, wani, whatever same thing.

Unlike any of the other options, this was one where you could guarantee some form of detachment. Kitsune were likely to be hunted down, especially those of younger ages, a tsukumogami was bound to interact with humans and you weren’t planning on being exorcised that quick, let alone the exorcism speedrun that was sure to happen with being a yūrei. Being a ryu would mean either getting to fuck with whoever you want with almost no consequences, or getting to be a hermit, which either way were options you weren’t going to turn down.  

Certainly, if they were giving you such overpowered options, surely you couldn’t be going into just any casual world. 

You selected the ryu option with an assured action, pointedly skimmed through the large wall of text that comes with the change and happily set off to design your outward appearance. There is an upside to your very smart choice, in which you maintain your human visage but gain some stubbed little horns protruding from your forehead and sparse scales at your legs. You even get to design your serpentine dragon form, and with the lack of any time measurement, you’ve probably spent at least a few hours fiddling with scales and colours. 

Staring at yourself in the mirror, you had decided to lean into the traditional look. The full get-up befitting a young mistress rather than a princess, with heavy robes of silks and jewellery of gold and jewels. You even had the chance to put on makeup, which though you were tempted to, you settled for simple dots beneath your eyes if only because indecisiveness was your best friend in these matters. Seemingly, the system had taken the opportunity to lengthen your hair to your lower back, unbound and flowing. A sense of pride fills you, and you just had to admit, it was hard to not feel amazing. 

With that, you tap on the ‘Complete’ button and you are now spawned into an enclosed room, seemingly endless as it stretches far beyond your eyes can see. The system pops once more, and though you had your fan very adoringly clasped in your hand, it's taken away as that robotic voice rings in your head. As it does so, the room changes as dense clouds manifest at your feet. A small window pops up, bearing the image of a fluttering red flag atop a mountain. 

You get a sinking feeling in your stomach. 

[Tutorial stage loaded. Movement tutorial initiated.]

[Please collect the flag set at the end of the course.]

You should have known that picking an option like this would have resulted in such. Well, since you clearly weren’t at the bottom of the ocean, you could rightfully assume the system made you into a rain ryu so at the very least, you didn’t have to fight deep-sea pressure. Rather, you just had to get over your extreme fear of heights, which was better, right?

‘System! I don’t even know how to fly and you want me to do all this?’ You gripe.

[User is a natural in many things, shifting forms to fly should come easy to you (๑˘︶˘๑)]

With a heavy breath, you send it the nastiest stink eye you can muster, ‘If I die from this.’

[Technically, user is already dead.]

You ignore that. Instead, you focus on shifting your bottom half to that of your more draconic form. The rest of the world melts away, and all that is left is just you and your body. The scant dark scales on your legs crawl up your legs, spreading over soft skin until what is left is a long serpentine body and two pairs of clawed legs, human form hidden beneath a draconic form. Upon your change, the clouds before you part and without a single moment of hesitation, lest your nerves truly get to you, you dive down towards the great earth. 

Past the rushing gales, a smile spreads across your lips. The amount of books that have described flight as something extraordinary never made sense to you, but as you brush against cold clouds, you understand that hypothetical feeling. Rather than actual flight through wings, it was more gliding and twisting through the sky, undulating and piercing all the same.  

It is amazing. In your old body, you would have grown tired from even walking two flights of stairs but perhaps you’ve benefited from the new change in more ways than one, because you felt like you could go for longer, for further. Twirling and breezing past closely intertwined trees, you shoot above the treetops and catch sight of something red fluttering atop that high mountain. In one last powerful surge, you snatch the flag between large talons with uncharacteristic ease. 

Yet the moment you do, the environment switches once more, back to blue skies and dense clouds beneath your feet but with a form clad in samurai armour. The flag you once held has been replaced with a naginata, clear blade gleaming under the sunlight. You are unceremoniously dropped from the sky, and though you’re still in your draconic form, you’re forced to shift back to your more human form. By no means is moving, hell even walking supposed to be hard, but heavy silks and jewellery aren’t exactly the most movement friendly. Mild (absolute) trepidation fills you, yet with a quick breath, you steel your nerves and hold your naginata in front of you, the system, thankfully realises your dilemma and quickly changes your appearance to fit the situation. Then with a bright flash, your training partner springs to life. 

[Movement tutorial completed. Naginata tutorial loading…]

Eyeing your opponent, you mutter, ‘Hey can this guy kill me?’

[All tutorials must be completed before user can be relocated, invalid completion may mean a return to user’s original body.]

‘Didn’t answer my question but thanks?’

[User should not worry since this is only a tutorial! ⸜( ´ ꒳ ` )⸝]

You’ve never actually fought anyone, if you had to be honest. The closest you ever got to an actual fight was when you had to take mandatory stage fighting lessons for drama. Of course, perhaps the fact that those classes focused on the actual acting portion meant that it probably meant nothing now. 

Well, no better time to learn than under the threat of death.

The system is, of course as you somewhat expected, relentless. It charges at you with no warning, the very sharp, very real sword almost cutting you down. Yet perhaps some kind of self-preservation instinct still is retained within you, as well as all those lessons you thought you forgot a long time ago, because you’re quick to bring your polearm up to block the attack. With a strength you thought only left for your other form, you manage to deflect it away from you as the phantom opponent backs up, at least not before stumbling forwards and narrowly avoiding another slice. 

Blocking and avoiding is all you can really do, even with your longer reach. You don’t know whether you’re even doing this efficiently, and in the span of a few seconds, you’ve only managed to get a few haphazard slashes in. Your heart pumps hard, blood rushing in your veins as you feel your chest tighten, everything burns. Your hair, now much longer and likewise loose (all for the system’s stupid aesthetics), gets in your vision but with one wrong action being the difference between life and death, you only blow it from your lips. 

As much as you want to learn as much swordplay as you can, you don’t think the stress of it all is worth it. Your only objective as outlined by the system was to defeat your opponent, not learn how to read a battle. 

Well, who needs to know how to read your opponent when they’re dead?

Backing away from another blow, you spot an opportunity. A gap exists between the chest plate and pauldrons, and while they’re distracted from a parry, you take the opportunity to bring your blade down as hard as you can. Slamming the blade through the leather straps and slicing until you feel no resistance, it grinds to a stop when the sharp blade once again gleams in the bright sunlight.

[Naginata tutorial completed. Ability tutorial loading…]

The system’s voice rings from around you once more, and within the blink of an eye, your opponent crumbles to dust. Your naginata disappears from your grasp and perhaps, or rather apparently having gained a sense of two, the system finally binds up your hair in a ponytail. 

Very much unlike the extremely stress inducing sword tutorial, this one just feels a bit annoying. Sure, you had more detailed objectives to complete, like ‘make a small storm’ or ‘cause thunder to strike this tree’ or even ‘start a flood’, but in all honesty, it was more similar to flight than naginata training. Intent was the key, the thought of making and desire to conjure was all that it took. 

Perhaps to a less imaginative person, this tutorial would’ve posed some kind of challenge. Yet you had to admit, the system did understand structuring and so you breezed past this one far easier than that stupid naginata tutorial (okay you did understand why a naginata, you just didn’t understand why you needed combat training in the first place). 

Or at least you thought you did until the system decided to set a whole forest aflame and just happily jingled a:

[Put out the fire (o･ω･o)]

If this damned AI had a body, you’d be throttling it right about now. 

Even if your environment was stimulated, the system was very meticulous in immersion seeing as it was sweltering to the point that you could feel your sweat pool at the bottom of your feet. It felt like one wrong move and you’d set your own damn hair on fire, and with how much smoke it conjured, you did not like your odds. 

Still, with a surge, you drift above the trees and hold your breath steady. Such a large forest decimated by a simple flame, every tree set ablaze as the entirety of your vision beheld blazing hell. 

Taking in a deep breath, though marred with smoke and ash, you call upon the rains and winds of the high heavens, muttering beneath your breath. A storm capable of bringing heavy storm clouds together, capable of creating such cold winds that it snuffs the heat it needs to spread. You can do that, of course you can, you didn’t die just to be the world’s most stupid ryu. Faster, faster and faster, you bring together heavier and heavier clouds until you feel your lungs cry for breath, until your vision strains to make out anything beyond hazy fumes, feeling the winds swirl around you in assailing gusts. 

The winds picks up as it slowly roars to life, rushing the edges of the forest as ash and leaves rise with its ascent. Above you, dark clouds heavy with rain gather along the amassing gales. As your storm brews and smothers the raging fire with sheets of pelting rain, you think you see it dim. Though your light zephyr only works to contain it, it is the heavy storm clouds that eventually put it out, pouring rain onto the destruction with nary a care. The droplets rush down with an odd fury, deafening against your ears as hot steam clouds your vision. 

Panting, it feels as though your airways burn with embers, congested with ash as you feel scales spread across your body once more. Your chest rises and falls, throat desperately gulping in air as though ceaselessly thirsty. You don’t understand why until you notice the rapidly approaching ground, bottom half desperately shifting in an attempt to rise up. 

Oxygen truly is still the most important aspect of life, even for a ryu. 

Your body hits the ground far lighter than you expected, attributed to the slower falling, but that doesn’t mean you don’t feel the pounding agony that hits you when you do. Bones slamming against your skin as even your brain crashes against your skull, the pain only lasts a second but the impact doesn’t. It's like a truck ran into you full force but you have no proof beyond your mind reeling from the hit. 

[Ability  tutorial completed. Revision tutorial loading…]

[Please finish all objectives listed.]

[System has healed all injuries from previous tutorial, please continue swiftly (* ^ ω ^)]

It still sounds too loud, to hell with the damned ‘healed all injuries’. 

You don’t even want to talk about this section. If you thought the ability tutorial was boring, this one was more so. This was actual studying, actual reading and actual practice, it was refining all of your prior tutorials into something beyond cursory experience. Shifting only the bottom half of your body or your hands, forcing rivers to cut into precise winds and turns, actually learning how to use your naginata in a way that wasn’t carelessly slashing, the system made sure to drill every minute possibility and detail into your head until you could live up to the true image of a proper ryu. 

It's not anything too difficult after the actual shit-show you just ran through. 

With a sigh, you tick off the last of your objectives and the system chimes in with a joyful ding. 

[Revision tutorial completed. All tutorials completed.]

Finally, you’re brought back to your starting void with nothing but the blue interface in front of you. Wording in white text and a white bar makes a steady process, your eyes follow along the rising percentage. 

[Character profile loading…]

Then, as it reaches the end and the little digits hit 100%, a new pop-up appears before you. 

[Host Space Occupied!!! User Transmigration Failed!!!]

[Host Space Occupied!!! User Transmigration Failed!!!]

[Host Space Occupied!!! User Transmigration Failed!!!]

A loud alarm blares through your head as all windows close down, instead this newer one appears much smaller than its predecessors before disappearing just as fast as it appeared. 

[Activating protocol 6453.]

[Access granted: relocation loading…]

A new bar loads up, a new percentage to watch with apprehension in your veins. It said that your space in this supposed world you were meant to be in was occupied, what the hell kind of world were you going to be dropped into now? You only hope it's not one as cut-throat as the one you were seemingly being prepared for, seeing as the system tried to kill you at least thrice. 

The system pulls up a new, larger tab with only two details shown. 

[User 888 name: Yoshikawa (y/n). 

User 888 role: NPC

Starter Location: Sekoto Peak]

Sekoto Peak… Why did that sound familiar? Well, at the very least, you were still an NPC. 

[Character profile loading…]

[Preparation of host body completed. Sending User 888 into role of NPC in My Hero Academia.]

‘Wait! My Hero??? System!’

[We hope user will enjoy your new life! (๑>◡<๑)]

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Let it be known that when you were alive, you only had a sparse inkling towards My Hero Academia. It was not that you never enjoyed the show, but rather that you were mildly interested in it during the show’s conception only to be turned away due to all the, let’s just say it, shame associated. So you only really kept up with it in your peripherals, that is until Season 7 got animated. 

Now it is very important to note that at the time this was happening, you weren’t exactly in the best place mentally, due to some fault of your own. So you were turning to a lot of characters that were older and displayed a more mentor-like demeanour, which might be a different issue altogether but hey you were a different person now, maybe you’ll have different issues. 

Alas, under the guidance of an incidental glance of a certain character, you had found yourself tumbling headfirst back into those old feelings. The only problem? 

You just had to fixate so heavily on arguably the one character that has a certain reputation among the fans. Now, you weren’t claiming anything, but you’re glad that upon your return, this reputation has softened and aligned with the canonical depiction. 

Regardless, the main point was that you ended up only focusing on his background and the few things related to him. Sure, you know the very, very basic plot and some of the early plot points, none of which are in order, but you knew something at least. You’ve essentially ignored everything else in the series because let's be honest, you had other fixations that were not My Hero Academia. 

You forcibly peel your eyes open to a wooden ceiling and the sound of birdsong around you. For a moment, it's peaceful. All is good in the world, you just had a really bad dream about dying and being transmigrated, then almost dying again, and now you just had to get ready for the day. 

And then the nausea slams into you so hard you feel bile actually rise up to your airways. This might just be worse than choking to death on smoke. You close your eyes in an attempt to stop the urge to empty your insides, yet now there seems to be pounding against your skull as a side to your order of vertigo. Great, this is going so great. 

Bringing your blanket up to cover your head, you squeeze your eyes in ache as the queasiness fluctuates between mild to extreme. When that eventually passes, though it feels like months, you tentatively rise from your bed to take a step, only to tumble out and crash onto the hardwood floors. Though it doesn’t hurt as much as you thought it would, surely not when compared to your other crash landings, you cringe at the commotion. 

No one comes in to check on you, no matter the fact that your shrunken tail springs out from the abrupt pain, which only causes more things to come crashing down. You figured tails wouldn’t bode well in modern contexts. At this, you wonder whether any other part of your supposed original form remained.

You push yourself up and rush towards the closest mirror, pulling on your skin and picking over every detail on your new body. Everything is as you adjusted but with a few notable exceptions. You’ve been taken out of your traditional attire and placed in modern clothes, or more so modern pyjamas if you could even call a baggy t-shirt and shorts that. It is then that you realise that your vision isn’t the clearest, well it never was during the tutorial, but you could barely see what was on the other side of your, admittedly, large room. Amidst your panic, the system chimes in. 

[User’s items have been morphed to fit in a modern setting (´ ∀ ` *)]

Turning to face your room, the system highlights your ‘morphed items’ with a blue box surrounding them as well as very helpfully stating what they were. Your naginata is now the naginata mounted atop the wall that the system has dubbed a replica, a few of your original robes were now folded away into a box at the bottom of your closet and your elaborate jewellery have been changed to fit more modern aesthetics. Internally, your heart cries in joy at your shrunken collection of gold. No amount of head pain was worth the aesthetic! 

Though you put on the glasses (lest you trip and die in an even more embarrassing way), that didn’t mean that you weren’t a little worked up on all the ‘adjustments’ made without your consent. 

‘You literally debuffed me.’ With a deadpan glare, the system only lights up in response.  

[!User agreed to all conditions when agreeing to change species!]

You take in a heavy breath, suppress the urge to gripe and instead decide to walk around the house to get a feel of the outlay. The whole place appears empty and a minimalist’s dream, concrete walls painted eggshell white with no decor hung, humble wooden furniture with only the slightest embellishments as well as, of course, wooden floors. Wandering around the house, you find a simple bathroom with all the necessary amenities, a kitchen with an electric stove, an office, a guest bedroom and a patio. You take the time to memorise every part of it, as a precaution of course. There is a feature that has caught your eye however, which was the numerous photo frames bearing the same few people, an older woman with a large pair of horns sprouting from her forehead and a man with seemingly no outward deviations, a young man with the same features as the woman and large horns protruding up and out. He is always stood by a young child that grows up as you find more and more photos. This child didn’t look familiar to you, with soft pudgy cheeks, wild hair and little knobs that turn to stumps and stubby horns. You don’t want to recognise her. 

You leave the house and are immediately blasted with a cold burst of wind. On second thought, maybe you’d need a coat. After rummaging through your oddly full closet, you return and sit atop the stool on the patio, taking in the scenery around you. Bright blue skies and verdant trees dot the landscape, the city sits at the distance as the distant sounds of modern life acts as a background to the serenity of your current residence. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you finally spot a transparent little box with a microphone icon within it. Time to get some answers since you were very clearly not given any. Tapping into the box, the microphone flares as you speak. ‘System, why the fuck am in My Hero Academia?’

[User’s space was occupied by another higher priority user (/_＼)]

The system dings with an almost pitiful jingle, and though the ashamed kaomoji gave it some kind of cuteness, you would not trust it. 

[User’s relocation is meant to satisfy your desire to live a peaceful life with the added bonus of your new abilities (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)]

An incredulous look appears on your face. Who would even say that living here would be peaceful?! Send out a poll to everyone that has ever watched any form of anime and you guarantee that no one would say that this world is peaceful! Even you, someone who never fully watched or read the series could say that you wouldn’t pick this world! Why not █████████ Chronicles or even ████████ Coolheadedness?! Huh?!

‘So you send me to My Hero???’ You entreat with all the grace of a squawking seagull. 

[With user’s prowess, a peaceful life will be easy („• ֊ •„)]

Was it possible for ryu to get high blood pressure? Because if it was, you’re certain that yours must be high enough to kill a man ten times over. Rubbing your temples, you let out an exasperated huff. ‘What point of the story are we even in right now?’

[The main character ‘Midoriya Izuku’ is currently one year old.]

‘Very informational, thanks. Okay fine, how old is…..’ Your mind trails off as you try to think about any character that could give you a rough grasp on the timeline. When you fail to think of any, all you can muster is a weak, ‘...uhh’

[User’s favourite character ‘Todoroki Touya’ is currently thirteen years old ( ˙꒳​˙ )]

‘How the fuck do you know that?’

[User gave all information for scanning when you agreed to our services ( ´ ꒳ ` )]

‘I didn’t agree to shit,’ You hissed. You’d know if you’d agree to something like this (you wouldn’t, you don’t even read the terms and conditions of service), but for crying out loud, you weren’t shown anything even remotely similar when you were in that dark void called limbo!

Eyeing the system’s window, you gesture for it to provide some kind of elaboration, at first with a raised brow then resorting to physically using your hands to encourage it. Of course, you’re not given any kind of response. 

You roll your eyes, ‘Very mature of you.’

You close the window as well as your lids, the early onset of a headache creeping up on you. Peaceful life, this might just be the least peaceful moment you’ve had in all your years of life. A heavy breath escapes you, and though you swear you could feel your head throbbing in anticipation, you open your eyes to see another goddamn window. 

[Profile updated.]

With a swipe, another window appears, much longer than the previous. 

[Character: Yoshikawa (y/n)

Role: NPC

Status: Ryu of Sekoto Peak

Current Location: Sekoto Peak

Objectives: Support the plot ]

How creative. You get it, you’re a ryu and your surname is auspicious river because you’re an auspicious water related being, but isn’t this a bit too obvious?

No matter, you instead zero-in on your role as assigned by the system. Just as you liked it, though you did have some reservations. While the objective ‘support the plot’ is rather vague seeing as the plot is all but a zygote right now, you needed to know how far you could change things without the system slapping you with penalties. If it could do that (it probably can). 

Tapping on the chat box again, you hum, ‘As an NPC, can I affect the plot?’

Yet before the system could give you a vague answer, you rush to clarify yourself, ‘What I mean is, say I- I don’t know…’ It takes you a few moments to think of a character both integral to the main plot as well as one that’s alive, ‘Say I kidnap Shimura Tenko, can I do that?’

As though giving up on attempting to convince you otherwise, especially upon your now pointed stare, the system only dejectedly dings, [Since user does not technically belong to this world nor inhabit the body of an important character, you are free to override canon. (￣ヘ￣)]

That’s what you like to hear. 

With that confirmation as well as the extra details of your being on Sekoto Peak, your sheer ability and the fact that Touya is currently thirteen, you could enact the very scheme of your dreams. To hell with ‘Support the plot’ or your NPC role! You know what you have to do, you have no choice. 

[User does not have to do this (＃＞＜)]

You must, there is no other choice. You were going to either fight Endeavour for custody or actually fight him, both works. Whatever happens, you’re getting Rei the absolute hell out of that house. You just had to figure out a way that required the least amount of trauma inflicted onto everyone else. 

You have time, and you’ll want to think of some kind of game plan before throwing accusations around. 

As you look towards the forests before you, you take a tentative look back to the house you just left. A new thought comes to mind. It looked a bit older, more traditional architecture and had a small shrine right outside the patio. You readily assume that you live alone, completely and utterly especially when considering both location and circumstance. Though you did wonder, how exactly did you even own property? Most transmigrators transmigrate into families, don’t they? 

Prodding the system once more, you glance towards the house, ‘How do I even have this place?’

[As compensation for the issues, User 888 has been given a comprehensive backstory and hefty compensation to ensure a peaceful life (๑˘︶˘๑)]

It brings up what is practically a wall of text with the title of ‘Backstory’. The words are microscopic and you have to squint just to read. Scanning over the window, you blithely take in your information. The usual born from an egg, raised among the mountains and trained as the youngest child of the Yoshikawa family. Nothing new there. As you continue reading, your eyes widen comically and you need to take a double-take when you reach the second paragraph.

[The Yoshikawa family, as currently lead by the 15th head Yoshikawa Hiroomi, claims to be the descendents from heavenly descended ryu, as reflected with the strong line of ryu related quirks within the small branch. Unlike most quirks wherein such consistent census would require quirk marriages or inbreeding, it appears that the Yoshikawa family’s genetics override those of the partners, regardless of gender and therefore always results in children bearing the ryu quirk. 

Originally appearing at the start of the 18th century, the family got their start in investing due to squirrelled away wealth and treasures, continuing to make stakes that would hold out in the future. Eventually, Yoshikawa Hirokuni, the founder of Toyotama Ent. made the fortuitous decision to enter the consultancy and accountancy sector, making full use of the prodigious history of his family’s background to encourage clients while maintaining a high roster due to the founder’s strict calibre. 

Due to the future-proof business, even with the rise of quirks, the 12th head, Yoshikawa Hirotsugu maintained the level of affluence enjoyed by the previous generations but sought to expand their reach towards other industries. Hirotsugu took to the ever growing rise of vigilantes and early heroes, extending their consultancy and accountancy services towards non-financial takes. 

With their considerable share in the market as well as infamous appearance, the Yoshikawa family often trains their eldest next of kin for the inevitable take over for the company, though it appears that all children are involved in some form of training, which range from quirk training, weapon training and extensive areas of education. 

The 14th head Yoshikawa Hiroyo handed the company to her eldest Yoshikawa Hiroomi when the young man was 21, having led Toyotama Ent. for the better of 50 years. Spending most of his time away on business trips, even catching a sight of the young leader is a miracle. The second child, twelve years the eldest junior, appeared to have no interest in the business despite her role as possible locum, now leading a private life away from the family’s politics. The family was adamant that this sibling is not to be involved in public matters, a notion that Hiroomi has taken seriously as it is now publicly unknown as to whether the youngest resides within the nation. Despite this, the eldest takes to sending money to the youngest as per their parents’ wishes. 

Hiroyo and her husband have since disappeared from the public eye, though Hiroomi has stated that his parents have merely retired. However, there have been baseless rumours that the 14th head of the family alongside her husband have returned back to their family’s ancestors’ homeland.]

A few gears turn in response to this, perhaps an attempt at mental gymnastics by the monkey living in your head, unfortunately for the both of you, that monkey isn’t particularly agile. There is only one conclusion to this absolute dumpster fire of a backstory, and it is one that makes zero sense according to both the lore of My Hero Academia and the whole idea of genetics in general. That was ignoring the glaring plot holes in such a backstory, if you could even suppress that.

‘Thanks for the absolute info-dump,’ You huff, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes. With an over-exaggerated gesture, you make the absolutely impressive assumption with your clues, ‘I assume I’m that second child?’

[Correct ! (≧◡≦)]

‘I’m a fucking overpowered character with the backstory of an overbearing CEO. I might as well just go off All for One now.’ Rolling your eyes, your snark is not exactly appreciated by the system. 

[User’s desire for a peaceful life as well as the circumstances of the transmigration has made it so this was the best course of backstory (￣ω￣)]

‘And you literally turned me back human?! I was promised a change from that!’

[User only appears human, all members of the Yoshikawa family are still ryu ( ´ ▿ ` )]

A very, very loud and overexaggerated sigh escapes you. Well, time to see whether you’d have to return to school or not.  

‘How old am I?’ You pose the question tentatively, almost afraid to actually hear how old you were supposed to be. 

[User has spent 78 years for completion of all tutorials, but host is currently 18 (＾▽＾)]

78 years? 18 years old? You spent that long learning how to fucking make it rain?! Besides that, which wasn’t important! With the way everything was unfolding, you were half certain this body wasn’t even your own. Did this body of yours have a life before yours? If you really were an ‘original character’, surely you’d have some kind of control over your backstory?! 

Holding your hand up, you scramble to speak, ‘Did my body’s original owner–’

[!Incorrect! User’s host body has been custom made for user and did not exist prior to user’s transmigration.]

‘So you just changed history and inserted memories into everyone’s heads so my existence is justified?’

[Correct! (o´▽`o)]

That’s actually terrifying. The connotations of which are no less. Maybe you didn’t want to be picking fights with the system after all. 

On a side note, you’re pretty sure trying to romance any character would mean exposing yourself as this supposedly ‘hidden’ second sibling. Welp, you can’t say you didn’t try but sorry readers, this old woman is going to spend the rest of her days alone. Ah, you can already see yourself on a rocking chair crocheting shitty scarves. 

[User can hide away any physical attributes with certain garments, so rest assured ∠( ᐛ 」∠)_]

‘Sure I can! Like horns shooting out of my forehead will fit in any hat,’ You throw your hands up in frustration, then shove your finger into the blue window with a pointed misgiving, ‘And don’t read my thoughts!’

At least you had more than enough money to live out your life as well as enact whatever bullshit plan that’ll turn you from NPC to supporting character. Stupid system, you weren’t going to be wearing any shitty hat just to toss it off minutes later. Well, you supposed that if you tried your hand at romancing an even bigger deal, surely there’d be more attention on them, right? Besides, people wouldn’t even know what you look like so you could theoretically try to talk up All Might…

[User is still a teenager o(>< )o]

Out of curiosity, you think back to that old world you were supposed to be transmigrated to. If you were made as powerful as you are now (a notion you had no doubt off since you had no actual drawbacks on your abilities nor a stigma against actual murder), what kind of role were you supposed to play? 

As the sun sets, you glance at the blue window. 

‘Hey system, what was my role in that previous world you booted me out of?’ 

[User was meant to be an unnamed ryu living amongst the heavens as a minor rain god alongside their more important elder sibling, who would eventually join the main character’s conquest. User’s NPC role and status made it so you would remain unassailable to the main character’s journey of bloody vengeance (´ ∀ ` *)]

You suppress a shudder, the fact that you only just escaped death by not only being a god but also your NPC status said lots about what kind of world you would have been brought into. 

Yeah, you’d happily take My Hero Academia over whatever hell you almost went into.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Just your luck. When the system told you that Touya was thirteen, you thought you had some time to prepare. Of course, you don’t have the luxury. That would be too nice to you, and you’ve never had a pleasant moment when you’re dealing with the system and its preconceived notions of ‘entertainment’. 

While you knew, undeniably knew that the burning of Sekoto Peak would happen during the winter, you had no basis on when or even where it would all start. You weren’t the most familiar with the location as well, where each clearing was nor the lakes that dotted the land. 

In fact, you’re undergoing a planning session when your ears pick up a soft cry. It should not sound so familiar to you, but you had to admit that your fascination had caused you to all but burn every scene that had him in your mind. Not a minute later, as you’re scrambling to put on anything atop your flimsy pyjamas, the smell of smoke reaches your nose. 

Your feet skittering across the wooden floors to grab a mask, you rush out the door to the sight of a scorching forest with flames that touch the sky. Flickering amidst the winter wind, it only grows in spite as the cry of a young child echoes from below. 

The very sound instinctually causes your breath to quicken, for your tendons to stiffen and for goosebumps to prick the surface of your skin. Shifting back into your original draconic form, hovering above the ground despite your wavering nerves, if you could sweat in this form, you’d be positively dripping. You take in a deep breath and though the smoke and ash burns your lungs, you take off into the chaos. 

[!New Objective: Will to Live!]

As you soar through the skies, the plumes only intensify as it reaches your eyes. Despite the nausea and agony, you continue. You’re at the very least thankful with how much power you had in this form, even a little movement clears your vision as you scan across the burning landscape. With each surge, less of the smoke clears and though a fiery hellscape covers the dry foliage of ground, you can still hear him, can still hear the screams of agony and cry for help. Clearer than ever, ringing in your ears, you find him.

The rest of the forest didn’t matter, not now, you just needed a momentary relief to take him to safety. 

Just as you practised, you call upon rushing gales and burdened clouds, feeling pinpricks of teeming rain on your body, continuing to summon even as the smoke rises and chokes your lungs. Another, another, another, you keep convoking this heavy storm until your throat runs dry.

The hiemal winds of winter howl as it obeys your will, swarming and rushing towards the flames that ascend upon the first few moments, before being snuffed away by the unrelenting sheets of pelting rain. Engulfing the bright fires and scattering embers in their fleeting moments, your tempest rages amidst the disarray. Gales of wayward intent and clouds of thunderous bearing bend to your call, leaving behind charred trees and ceaseless ash, and the lake which saved Touya. 

Curled up into himself, that sweet child whose very existence makes your heart squeeze in hurt lies at the bottom of that dried up lake, burnt to the point of ill-recognition. You wouldn’t have even known it was him if you hadn’t known what would happen. Your long body twists and twines around nothing among ash and debris, you’re ill suited for the weather but none of it mattered. Nothing mattered compared to the life in front of you. 

A laboured exhale escapes your lips, no matter how much your lungs scream for more, you’re careful when bringing him into your hand, careful to not cause any more damage. He’s cold, frighteningly so and it scares you. You can still hear the faintest of heartbeats, he’s still alive, you thank every god you can think of that he’s still alive. You don’t have the luxury to ensure that man isn’t anywhere nearby, your mind is preoccupied on what to do next, where to go next. 

Taking off once more with another powerful surge that propels you upwards towards the cool skies, your head hurts at the very thought of thinking. You need to get him medical attention now, you can barely think and maybe the lack of oxygen really was getting to you. You shouldn’t have been so hasty, shouldn’t have inhaled so much smoke. It's clogging your airways and your nostrils burn from the ash. Your eyes burn, like a fire lit behind them but you keep them open, any little falter and you fear that he’ll be taken from this world too soon. 

In the distance, through your already blurring vision, you spot a hospital. 

Another flap, a new burn shooting through your body. Your legs feel heavy and your every bone aches as you keep him close to your chest. You can barely see, yet you continued your rush towards the building. Distantly, you hear the shock and horror of the people below, you could care less. Not now, not when you were so close. 

You crash onto the cement ground all the while holding him close, the harsh landing creating a long trough in the concrete, you force yourself to shift back while keeping the young boy in your arms. Still, you push yourself forwards as you burst into the hospital lobby. Flagging down who you think must be a nurse or doctor, a few people rush to your side when you reveal the child in your arms.

“Please… This child needs help now!” Your voice comes in a coarse rasp, each word scraping out from your throat as you struggle to breath. 

Touya is promptly taken from your grasp as he is wheeled away, you accompany him, even if every fibre of muscle in your body screams in agony and your chest heaves for air. A nurse forces you to leave him when she realises you are following along, grabbing you by the shoulders as your breaths come in short, frantic bursts. 

She sounds like she’s trying to hide her worry, poorly so, “Ma’am, calm down, do you know where his parents are?”

You just manage to speak, closing your eyes from how much they burn. 

“Please keep it private,” You exhale, holding onto her as you feel your knees buckling. “The child is the eldest Todoroki child, please…” 

“Inform his parents as soon as possible.”

You crash to the cold ground again, and the world feels like it's closing in on you, too small, too much. On instinct, your scales grow up to your neck to shield yourself from the enclosing reality, more so your legs shifting back to those talons. The vague sound of metal crashing onto the ground barely reaches your ears, too focused on keeping conscious to care about your surroundings. 

A violent cough tears through your body, hacking out sparse bits of ash and spit from your inflamed throat. You didn’t even know that was possible, and was that blood? 

Shit, you really didn’t know whether you should be feeling so dizzy. 

“Ma’am?”

Just before you closed your eyes for the last time, you reached for the chat box on the bottom left of your vision.

You wheeze out, ‘System, will he live?’

[!System cannot confirm plot points outside of canon!]

You figured. 

It would be ironic if you die like this. 

Your grasp on consciousness slips before you can even laugh. 

[!Objective Complete: Will to Live!]

You realise that for all the system’s cutesy antics, it's still an agent of the narrative, or rather an agent of ‘do it for the plot’.

Undoubtedly, you definitely inhaled a lot more smoke than you should have and you probably did some major damage to your body in the process of averting a massive plot point. Unlike your tutorial, the system can’t magically heal you of all your injuries so you’re currently stuck in your unconscious mind while the system berates you for almost killing yourself. Who cares that you technically did a good thing? Forget about that, you shouldn’t have thrown yourself into flames to save a child, you should have waited for the fire department and just twiddle your thumbs as you very clearly ignore his agonised screams. 

Because that’s what good people do. 

You rolled your eyes a few more than a dozen times in response to such a sentiment. 

Apparently, you also had broken some stupid rule you didn’t even know about during your reckless abandonment. It was stupid by all means since you were not informed about anything, nor were you going to be thinking about hiding anything when you were breathing in more carbon monoxide than oxygen. As such, you had readily accepted whatever physical torture it would put you through for your punishment, seeing as you could very easily just dissociate from the pain, until a new window popped up in front of your eyes. 

[Activating punishment protocol 1338: Relocation to canon timeline.]

[We hope User 888 enjoys this experience as reflection.] 

Before you know it, you’re hit with that burst of nausea once more, slamming into your body as you suppress the urge to vomit all over yourself. 

When you open your eyes, all you can behold is him. The same thirteen year old boy curled up at the bottom of the lake as a figure loomed above him. Charred to the point of near-death, he survived out of the pure spite of will. You can only watch as that figure, that thing called a man, reached out and took him away. As though moving beyond your will, you reach forward to grab him, keep him away. Your hand only passes through. 

“Stop that! Stay away from him you fucking coward!” You cry, your throat running raw as you claw and grab at something, anything. Your hands catch nothing, they won’t let you, they won’t let you save a child when he’s right in front of you. “You’re a coward! You hear me? Hiding behind children like a fucking coward!”

“Please! Don’t take him away! He doesn’t deserve it! He needs to apologise to his mom! He needs to see his siblings!” 

“Please… he still has so much waiting for him.”

Tripping and falling to your knees, you wade through shallow waters and wet soil as you struggle to push yourself up. Your arms strain to reach out, passing through that man’s legs uselessly. Hot tears stream down your face, you don’t know when you started, and before you are even given a moment to grieve, you’re pushed to another scene. 

Locked behind the impermanence of spirit, you’re forced to watch, to watch and never interfere. Forced to watch him insensate for those three years as his family grieved for a boy who died in more ways than one, Your eyes peeled back as that excuse of a father descends further into that spiral of abuse, his mother who acted only as a victim of her circumstances, his siblings forever changed from that single day. 

Childhood resentment is only the fuel for the hatred of adulthood, and Touya, or you suppose in this case, Dabi has more than enough. You watch, you can only watch. Blue flames constantly burn at the corners of your vision, gnarled, purple skin slowly spreading over more and more, and yet still, in your eyes, he is still that child who just wanted someone to see him. As staples and piercings only tear into scorched flesh, ripping and pulling to expose bone and teeth, you keep watching. Engulfed in raging flames, you never take your eyes away from him, until he has returned to the visage of that hurt child at the bottom of the lake. 

You keep trying to reach out in all those moments. You still tried to hold onto him like you did. 

No matter the crimes, no matter the hatred. 

You’re as much of an observer as you were all those years ago. Except, you aren’t. You aren’t watching things play out from behind a screen, you aren’t reading lines from a book. You’re right next to them, right next to people who dream like you, pray like you, love and lose like you. 

You are useless, or at the very least, stupid. As a transmigrator, is the goal not to save as many people as you could with your knowledge? What made Touya special? Did Tenko, Himiko, none of them, did none of them deserve that chance too? 

For a brief moment, your tired eyes think the system is about to push you towards the next scenario. However, when you open your eyes, you’re left in a picturesque landscape, with tall mountains and a rushing waterfall, the sounds of a lazily flowing stream is right by your ears. And when you look to your side, you find you’re not alone. Rather, a young boy stands in front of you, no older than thirteen with soft white hair and the most innocent blue eyes you’ve ever seen, thin brows and round cheeks. Dressed in a matching jacket and pants, the neutral expression and sheer grief in every inch of his being, you know who he is. 

You almost don’t recognise him at first, almost don’t want to. You don’t know whether this is even the real Touya, whether you can even trust your eyes, whether the system has decided your punishment just needed to hurt a little more.

[!New Objective: The World of the Dead!]

He sees you first, and though he doesn’t approach you, he stands his ground as his voice travels through the dark space. “Do I know you?”

“No–” You’re quick to respond, bringing your hands up to show him you weren’t any threat. “I… just thought you looked familiar.”

His shoulders don’t untense at your proclamation, continuing to look at you with thinly veiled suspicion. You suppose your appearance isn’t doing much, a woman with horns clad in heavy robes surely didn’t scream trustworthy, especially to a confused child. 

“Am I dead?” Touya asks, a bit too quiet, too impuissant for your troubles. 

It is then you notice the slight swell at the bags underneath his eyes, a flushed quality to the tip of his nose. He’d been crying, of course he had been. He must have been–be– so scared. 

Your lips pull to a tight line, not quite sure how to answer. You still don’t know whether he’s real, you find you don’t care. Forcing a slight tug to your lips, you squat down and reassure him, “No, you’re just dreaming. Soon you’ll wake up and everything will be fine.”

At this, a complicated gleam crosses his eyes as his expression shifts to that of disbelief. It would be almost cute if not for the circumstances of your situation. 

“You don’t believe me, do you?” You huff, an amused grin on your lips at the idea of what you’ve just done.

“Of course I don’t,” The boy retorts, voice pitched at an attempt at being deadpan. 

A soft breath escapes you, and though your heart pounds in your chest, you take a step forward. Then another when he doesn’t flinch away. 

“Dead or not, it's still good to tell someone everything that’s been hurting you.”

With a shrug, you tentatively meet his eyes, careful to speak without qualm, “Who knows, maybe if this really is just a dream, you’ll really wake up and find out everything is better than it was.”

Again, his nose scrunches as his eyebrows knit together, he still doesn’t believe you. You really don’t blame him, but if the system was pushing you into a quest after a punishment, surely, surely this can’t just be hallucination. It can’t be, the Touya in front of you had to be real. 

As you think of what to say, the system flashes in front of your eyes, blindingly bright in such a place. You swipe it away before returning to your situation.

[!User cannot reveal information that pertains to user’s transmigration or past life! Any leak will result in a punishment protocol!]

“Why should I tell you? I don’t know who you are.” He crosses his arms as he averts from your gaze. 

Still, you continue, lying out of your teeth as if more natural to you than breathing, “Neither do I, but an outsider perspective can help sometimes.”

The two of you remain like this until eventually, and despite your heart attempting to escape your ribs, he hazards a glance at you. It's brief, but enough for you to catch his eye and send him a squeezed eye smile, patting the soft grass with your hand. He looks away again, but slowly– hesitantly, he sits down where he’s at. 

You’re okay with that, even above the sound of flowing waters, you can hear him just fine. 

“My dad thinks I’m a failure,” He mutters into his arms, voice muffled by fabric.

As he speaks, that tinge of sorrow, grievance starts to pitch his words, “He used to train me and said I was going to be better than the number one hero All Might, but just because I started getting burned by my own quirk, he made me stop.”

“So I trained in secret to show him that I can still be a hero but he just kept ignoring me or scolding me.”

From the corners of his eyes, you think you see little crystalline tears dew on his bottom lashes, a part of you wants to reach over to wipe them away. You don’t. Instead, he’s quick to wipe them away and continue. His words are rushed, a bit muddled together as though he’s trying to get everything out in one go. Still, there’s nothing that truly, entirely reveals just exactly who his dad is. 

“And then my baby brother was born and he got what he finally wanted, so he just– acted like none of us existed. We weren’t enough for him, he made that pretty clear,” He retorts, all but spitting with that very same grievance you know they all bore at one point. 

“But I thought I was finally powerful enough for him after training for all these years, and he didn’t even come when I asked him to.”

When he finishes, you don’t immediately respond. Hearing his own words on what happened was better, you found. Perhaps not yet the same resentful malice from his possible future, but still ultimately bearing some kind of bitterness you know was just his desire for his father to see him like he once did.

You ask him whether you can move closer, and when he doesn’t refute you, you do so. 

“Do you know what I think?” Humming as you inch slightly closer so that you are now an arm’s length away. 

This was a bit hard on you too, perhaps it was selfish to think that but it was. Still, you look to him with an assuaging expression, sighing, “I think, somewhere deep down he cares for you and doesn’t want you to get hurt. Which is why he kept telling you to stop training.”

“Making the reason he wants you to give up not because he doesn’t want you to be a hero, but rather because he’s worried you’ll get yourself too hurt.”

Touya scrunches his nose again, looking back at you with an incredulous look in his eyes. 

“But why doesn’t he just say that?” His response is muttered but still not quite hiding his upset.

You press your lips into a tight line, responding as calmly as you can muster, “Adults can be weird sometimes, and sometimes they just don’t know how to say things.”

“I think you can still be a hero though, just that you need the proper support equipment first,” 

But when he looks at you with that look again, you only offer a small quirk of your lips. Your only defence?

“Every hero uses support equipment, some are just less obvious than others.”

With a soft breath, you propose a chance theory, “But I think even if you don’t become one, he’d still care for you in some off roundabout way.”

It's now that he finally meets your eyes, jaw slightly slack as his shoulders finally relax from the once rigid posture he had adopted. He never knew. He never found out until the end of his life. 

With your ribs enclosing in your chest, you pat the spot next to you, a silent offer. He accepts, moving closer so that you could now fully see him. Though he got that growth spurt, he seems so small, lost and blank. You don’t know what you can say, so you just tell him what you wish he got to hear. 

“It's not your fault, I think he’s just…” Your voice trails off, mind racing to think of something to say that doesn’t expose your actual knowledge. Eventually, you can only let out a sigh as you cobble together a vague response, “He might be dealing with a lot of things from before you were even born, and he probably never moved on, so he placed all those ugly things onto all of you.”

“It's normal, I think your dad just doesn’t know that he was hurting all of you that badly because of his own things.”

Shaking your head, your voice comes out a little weak despite your best intentions, “This isn’t an excuse though. And maybe you can get a better answer if you ask him about it honestly.”

“I don’t think he’d do that,” He mutters. 

“Then I’ll make him. Who knows? Maybe one day there’ll be a dragon at your doorstep ready to help you.”

That’s the one thing that brings out an actual huff of laughter out of him, and even if he remarks that it couldn’t happen, you still smile at his brief mirth. Touya seems to have calmed down significantly from when you first met him, finally letting that smile of his peek through. When he finally recovers from that, he seems to realise something as he turns to you with furrowed brows.

“I told you all that embarrassing stuff,” He sniffs, an aggrieved look in his eyes as he sulks, then as though realising that, goes back to pretending to be that nonchalant kid. “You have to tell me some stuff about you too.”

A soft laugh escapes you and the lies come spilling back out once more, “Well, most of the expectation was placed on my older brother but I was really young at the time, so I didn’t really understand what was going on. And honestly, I was mostly raised as a just-in-case.”

“He’s doing well now, runs the family business just fine on his own.”

“My parents were always very busy but even if I was just a spare, they always took the time to care for me,” Your voice trails off, gaze going somewhere far off. 

You didn’t actually know who Hiroomi was, who Hiroyo and her husband were, hazarding a guess to the people you saw in all those photos. These people you call family could very well despise you, and you would have no idea. The man you called your brother, you don’t know what he’s like, don’t know whether he ever saw you as competition. 

You hope you don’t meet him. 

Touya’s response pulls you out of your trance, head cocked as he looks down onto the ground. “That sounds… nice.” His voice is softer towards the end, almost whispered beneath his breath.

Another sigh escapes you, not out of ire or malice, but rather something else, something more painful. Holding out your pinky, you call for him to meet your gaze. 

“When you wake up, everything will be better, I promise you,” You whisper, words determined and firm.

You’d make sure of it, you'd give up everything to make sure that when he wakes up, everything will be so much better for him. Because that’s what you can do. You can’t fight All for One nor Himiko’s parents for custody, but you can help Touya. 

His voice is shaky, but there’s some aspect that tells you he trusts you, just a little bit. That’s enough for you. He chokes out, “Really?” 

When he looks at you with those wide eyes, you must stop yourself from keeling over and sobbing over the pure hope he holds. It isn’t just hope, you correct, it's something beyond that. 

With a smile, you keep those tears at bay as you respond, feeling his pinky intertwine yours. 

“Really.”

[!Objective Complete: The World of the Dead!]

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The nurses attending to you tell you that it was a miracle you even regained consciousness as quick as you did when you awakened. The doctors even more so, as you had somehow inhaled so much smoke that if you had not rushed over as fast you did, you would’ve died. Albeit, they did say much of your swift recovery was attributed to your unique physiology, of which they did not fully understand. 

They also reprimanded you for immediately asking about someone else’s well being when you were still strung up to machines, so that was fun. Likewise, you were slammed with a pretty hefty fine for ‘vigilantism’, which again, what were you supposed to do? Ignore a child’s screams and twiddle your thumbs waiting for a hero? 

You could deal with that later, mentally thanking every god that your overbearing CEO-esque backstory has allowed you to ignore financial burden. 

Regardless, you were going to do good on your promise and do what every rich person does best, meddle in other people’s lives unnecessarily. So, with the very obvious destruction caused by the fires, you decided you were going to make use of that to get closer to the family. A seemingly dubious young woman just drifting through life, now revealed to be a lone youth, it was perfect to garner some kind of pity (or so you told yourself). You’d insert yourself into the picture for just long enough to sort out the main problem of this disaster, then keep yourself scarce when he finally wakes up. 

You may not know how long Touya will spend comatosed, now that you’ve fucked over the Todoroki family story, but you know who you can extort to ensure the peace. You know damn well who you’re going to extort.

When night falls, a nurse comes in with your dinner. He does the routine check-up on your vitals as well as your actual physical condition before you actually get your food, but before he can leave, you ask him about the child you brought. He doesn’t give you much information, just tells you his injuries are severe. 

In your head, you chew him out for such a vague response but externally, you only nod and absentmindedly slurp on your mystery juice. The juice that sure did taste like juice, the flavour rolling in your tongue and mixing together to form flavour. As you eat your certainly meal flavoured meal, you notice the basket of fruits sitting on the counter, a tiny little card tucked into the basket. 

When the next nurse comes in to take away your tray, you ask her whether you can visit Touya just to check on the poor kid. She tells you the same thing, that his injuries are severe and that he’s currently unconscious. No matter how much you tell her that you’re worried for him, she doesn’t budge.

You just wanted to meddle in people’s lives! Why wasn’t the universe letting you do this one thing!

By the third time you ask about him, the nurse who has probably grown tired of your consistent asking, gives up and tells you which room number he’s in. Still stuck in your hospital gown and perhaps a little embarrassed from the desperate begging, which you did not want to recount, you slipped on your slippers and set off towards his room. 

The system pings to life, you receive a new quest.

[!New Objective: The Furies!]

Reading the details, it wasn’t like you weren’t going to anyways. But it was nice to know that you could do it without the system sending you to hell again. Well, even if it did send you back there, you’d probably come back ready to nose in again.  

Still, you pad through the sterile hospital hallways, the gown catching on the scales of your thighs as you walk. The bright warm lights still hurt your eyes, just a little, but you can still see. Passing through dozens of rooms, each one with concerned family and smiling friends. Someone, anyone. 

Room number A48 is the only one, a lonely little room emitting a gentle light. There is no one inside, no one accompanying the young child.

Carefully, you slide open the door and approach the bed. His once fluffy white hair is slightly coarser now, forming a more spikier composition. Rather than the crude staples that once littered his body, it seemed the grafted skin had taken almost seamlessly, that though there was some form of divide, it would soon heal with time. His chest rises and falls in slow paces, and yet still you can barely believe the sight in front of you. 

A part of you longed to reach out and just touch him, just anything that would confirm your vision. You stop yourself, you have no right to. 

Instead, you just watch, your eyes following the ECG line as it pitches up and down. Standing just a few footsteps away, a small shiver passes down your spine and arms as you clasp your hands together. You don’t know whether your prayers mean much, but you do so anyway. You’ve never really prayed to another god other than your own, but with your current being, you think even anything would be of help. 

It's a miracle he’s still alive, you pray that he’ll receive another. 

You don’t know when you’ll have to confront Endeavour, you can only assume it’ll be soon based on the system’s timing. Yet despite your very clear hatred for his actions, you find yourself rather uneased. You’ve always been somewhat nervous when it comes to such events, you could pretend but that harsh thumping in your chest never really goes away. Tripping over your words, mispronouncing something, forgetting what you were going to say, there were ten million things that could go wrong. 

But you needed to do this. You have to, you must if you want to protect them. 

You try to become that second child, that youngest of the Yoshikawa family in an attempt to picture the image of cool composure. Squaring your shoulders, you force your breathing to steady as you press your hands together for some warmth, anything to stop that quiver. That voice you have always used for speeches sits heavy on your tongue, lodging in your throat ready for your initiative. The change comes to you easy but you don’t know how long it’ll last, your only hope is that it will. 

The room door slides open, and you don’t even have to turn around to know who it is. The heavy footsteps and the even heavier pressure in the atmosphere, your objective’s target was here. 

You don’t turn your head, pointedly keeping your eyes lowered onto Touya’s resting form. He stands besides you, almost dwarfing you in height alone. Taking a curt glance towards him, a huff escapes you. 

“You know, my place almost burned down,” You hum, tone all too indifferent for someone who has seemingly gone through hell. 

“I’m glad it didn’t,” With a sigh, you turn to meet his slightly widened eyes. “I wouldn’t know what to do if it actually did.”

Clearly taken off guard, the man doesn’t answer, merely staring at you. You don’t even know whether he knows who you are, for all that it was worth, you could just be a random stranger hovering over his son like a creep. Still, you don’t falter, a tempest of deception already brewing in your head and all but spilling from your lips. 

“Did they even tell you how he got here?” You murmur, keeping your voice soft as the hour grows late. 

Endeavour takes a moment to answer, perhaps still not quite processing your words. When he does eventually find his voice, it's gruff despite the lowered volume, “They did, I didn’t think you’d be up so quickly.”

A huff of amusement escapes you, “That’s what they said too.”

Another period of silence descends, with the both of you alternating between looking at the ground, the heartbeat monitor, Touya, anywhere but each other. This isn’t the Endeavour you were expecting, grieving yes, but not borderline ungainly such as this. Still, no matter how much you’d quite like to slap some sense into him, you keep your mouth shut and wait for him to say something. 

“How did you know he’s my eldest son?” He asks, all but demands if not for the low volume.

You shrug, “Just guessed he was.”

“I’d hear him training and all the things he’d say,” With a wry quirk of your lips, you keep your eyes lowered. 

“Made the connection pretty early on.”

As though commenting on the weather, you merely continued on. You could be much crueller with this rencounter, and in the end perhaps some kind of lesson would be learned, but you wanted him to understand the gravity of his actions through his own processes, not through aggression. That wasn’t how this tragedy needs to be solved, not what’s needed. 

A small huff escapes you, your shoulders shrink ever so slightly as you mutter, “Y’ know I heard him crying before the fire started.”

“Children don’t normally cry like that if everything is fine in their homelife.”

“I don’t want to judge but...” You were definitely judging him.

“It's hard not to.”

For the first time, you meet his eyes. You don’t know why you were nervous, the man beside you is just as scared as the child on the bed. He may not show it, but in those eyes you see it all. Deep down, there was still some care for his children, some fragment of affection for his family. It all just got shoved down in favour of some lofty goal. 

“Who are you to judge?” Endeavour retorts, a stern quality now taking to his form. 

“What happens in my family isn’t your business.”

“You’re right,” You laugh, sending him a droll glance. With a bite in your voice, a soft breath escapes you, “But imposing your ideals on your children, then abandoning them when they fail, isn’t exactly the most virtuous.”

At this sudden reveal, the older man seems to finally realise that you aren’t just some random stranger, some blissfully ignorant civilian. You blink for the first time in a while, coating your dry eyes as you continue to stare at him. The consistent beeping of the ECG machine is all that surrounds the two of you, no other sound beyond the night wind. 

After a choked silence, he manages a response, “How do you know that…?” 

“Do you think I just passively absorb whatever a hurt child has been saying when he trains?” With scrunched brows, a tinge of actual, genuine hurt leaks out. 

You know he’s hurt from this, what kind of decent parent could not be? But how could that even compare to everything his own child had experienced, the possibility of a fate worse than this? How could a moment of vulnerability not force out some modicum of your true emotions? How could you bear to watch an entire family almost broken apart for just one man’s ideals and maintain your cool? 

No matter how much you could try, you can’t quite keep up the cool and aloof facade. You were never good at it, and perhaps you’re just far better at playing the hurt child than young mistress, far better at playing the volatile dragon than the austere god. 

“I never approached, but I’ve heard things, seen the way he treats himself,” Your voice comes out in a murmur, you only shake your head as your hair sways along the movement. 

“Do you actually care for them? Do they know it?” Unblinking, you bore into him as scales travel up your waist, “Because if they did, I doubt that one would burst into such raging flames from your inattention.”

“Imagine if I had not been there, would you be able to live with yourself?”

He knows what you’re implying, and both of you very well know what would have happened if Touya had been left in that lake. A flame of over 2,000 celsius would have very well incinerated him to dust, your quick action was the only thing that changed that tragic course. Of course, he didn’t need to know that his son would have actually ended up descending into a spiral of dissolution, that would be too much. You were not that cruel.

The ECG monitor spikes for just a moment, returning to its usual rhythmic beeping when neither of you speak. Endeavour can barely meet your eyes, and you him. The hard set in his jaw contrasted by what can only be described as dolour, yours tight from restraint. Too stubborn, too prideful, an unstoppable force and immovable object are bound to clash.

A few more moments of tense silence pass, and though you’re the first to relent, averting your gaze ever so slightly and letting out a soft breath, he speaks. 

“He was so young… I didn’t know whether he’d understand and he’s always been so disciplined.” He murmurs, “I thought if I just told him to stop, he would eventually get it.”

It spikes again. 

You sigh, perhaps a bit tired, “A child is still a child, and if you don’t explain to them directly, they won’t get it. You need to explain to him outright that you’re not angry or disappointed, but you’re worried for him.”

“I think you’ve let your own shortcomings affect him too much, and he’s associated too much of his worth to your perception of him, it ruined him,” your voice dips to below a whisper, that idea of him ruins you all the same. That image of him burnt at the bottom of the lake, burnt, burnt, burnt. 

“I’m not just talking about Touya, but the rest of your family too.”

Maybe you’ve talked too much, maybe you’ve been too cruel to spring this onto him when the wound is still so raw, but you couldn’t care less, not now. You can do something, and if your words end up being nothing but the wind by his ears, then you’ll take matters into your own hands. 

Bringing your arms closer into your, that shiver you were expecting rushes through you. A hand reaches out towards the boy, but quickly retracts, another sigh escapes you, “Your lofty ideals have destroyed your possibility of a family, but it could’ve been worse.”

“You still have a chance to change everything for the better, will you take it?”

Endeavour’s, Enji’s, eyes meet yours, and you hope through this one moment of understanding that he’ll come to learn from his mistakes. Your chest heaves, and you’re certain that your nurses will scold you when you return. He nods, a slight action but one nonetheless. That’s enough for you. 

With a soft sigh, you turn to leave. Your eyes drink in the sight of Touya, his heartbeat monitor still beeping in a constant rhythm, and your heart calms. Taking one last look at the older man from lowered lashes, you smile with a mournful gleam, “He’s a good child, please don’t ignore him.”

Your ears ring with a particularly loud set of beeps as you turn your back and the doors close.  

[!Objective Complete: The Furies!]

Yet when you turn to leave for your room, you come face first with a seemingly familiar person. A young man dressed in a sleek suit with sharper features and a prodigious pair of horns extending from his forehead, long hair bound in what was likely once a neat braid now dishevelled. Beneath the warm bright lighting, the lines on his face seemed deeper than what it must truly be, only magnified by the thin frames atop his nose. The moment he sees you, an expression of pure irk twists his refined features as he all but marches towards you. 

There’s no one else in the hallway, why was there no one else in the hallway? You can only stand there in fear and mild confusion, feet rooted to the ground even when he grabs you by the shoulders and shakes. This must be Hiroomi, it has to be. 

His lips are pulled back to reveal sharp teeth, sword straight brows furrowed as he hisses, “Why’re you running around when you haven’t recovered yet?”

“I know you’re worried about the kid but you need to consider your own health first,” His voice is sharp, unforgiving and perhaps if you weren’t who you were, his grip on your shoulders would have actually hurt.

“Do you know how worried I was when I saw the news? I had to book the first flight back. They kept telling me how severe your injuries were and now you’re just up and about.”

When you don’t respond, still a bit too dumbfounded that he would actually come find you, he lets out a breath and loosens his grip. Nonetheless, the hardness in his brow doesn’t leave. Pressing his tongue into his cheek, his chest heaves heavy as he closes his eyes. 

Hiroomi shakes his head, muttering, “Never mind, come on, you shouldn’t be up and about so late.”

“I’m eighteen,” You dumbly blurted out.

A huff of amusement leaves him, acerbic gaze glancing at you as he drags you back to your room. “Age doesn’t matter when you throw yourself into a raging fire.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Three years pass and you’re certain that he’ll awaken soon. In said three years, you have somehow been inducted into the Todoroki  family as a pseudo-counselor, or rather that’s the best way you can describe your role. You didn’t even intend for this to happen, it was like you got adopted without your consent. 

Hiroomi does not know this, you intend to keep it that way. 

Really, you’ve just been showing up at odd hours ready to make sure that your words actually had some kind of effect. It wasn’t as if you were prowling outside their doors like some kind of creep, you did make an agreement with Endeavour and even Rei when you got to meet her, but you’ve been enjoying your immense level of freedom recently. Which unfortunately meant that your visits were never the most planned. 

You vaguely remember the first time you showed up, having taken public transport and showing up exactly when a certain someone was at the door. You just stood behind him for some reason, effectively giving him what must have been the heart attack of his life when he finally noticed you, or the second heart attack of his life. You weren’t keeping count, you didn’t particularly care. 

Regardless, while the children did take some time to warm up to you, it didn’t take long until you had a very curious six year old constantly wanting to touch your horns, as well as a nine year old and thirteen year old very interested in the ‘new lady terrorising dad’. You don’t know why they knew that word at those ages, and frankly, although impressed, you were kinda scared that they did. 

Fuyumi and Natsuo were and are absolutely lovely children, but knowing that some of their mannerisms and behaviours were a product of a troubled household, you didn’t know how to feel. And since you’d been transmigrated so late, you couldn’t prevent Shouto from receiving his burn. This entire family was perfectly engineered for maximum heartache, you can only thank the system for letting you be such a busybody. 

Still, you tried your best to be a good role model to all of them. Which largely entailed acting as a chaperone every time their father wanted to train the youngest, bringing Shouto to play with the rest of his siblings whilst ensuring that he could engage in extra-curricular activities to help with his social skills, encouraging family time through slow and deliberate implementations. You have the children write letters to Rei, promising each and every one of them to deliver them to her yourself, and when you do return with her responses, their elated expressions are all that you need for the rest of the week. 

Similarly, you suggest therapy and if not, then at least writing out what they felt. 

After which, you split your time between visiting their mother in the psychiatric ward and Touya back in the hospital.  And still, you keep most, if not all interactions with Endeavour curt. That doesn’t mean that you don’t notice his slow progress, which is still progress at the end of the day. Every time you visit Rei, you find a vase of her favourite flowers somewhere, while the rest of the children have become a little more open to their father. Natsuo and Shouto are still apprehensive, you don’t blame them, you’re just glad they can somewhat tolerate his presence for now. 

It's almost impressive how fast everything is healing over and you still have no idea how that came to be. Rather, it would be more accurate to say that you have no idea how everything is going as well as it is now but you’re not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so you take it in stride. 

You aren’t sure when Touya will wake up, but you hope that when he does, he’ll be surrounded by the family he deserves. 

With a coat wrapped around you, walking through an almost familiar sterile hallway, you arrive at a familiar room and bring your hand up to knock. Before you can do so, a woman’s soft voice calls for you to come in. Bathed in soft autumn sunlight, Rei is preoccupied with a book. Her softer features, ones you have seen moulded upon her children, are relaxed, and when she smiles at your arrival, you respond with one of your own. The older woman urges you in, and you do so readily. 

“Rei-san, I brought fruits,” You hum, reaching into the plastic bags hanging off your elbows to reveal a few containers of cut peaches (she had let it slip that she was partial to them one autumn). 

A small breath of amusement escapes her when you busy yourself with rearranging the containers, and though her voice is still quite soft, you manage to catch her words, “Thank you.”

When you finish, you grab a chair and sit with her, a cup of tea already served and waiting for your hands. Joining her in watching the birds sing from the window, the two of you sit in comfortable silence. You haven’t yet managed to broach the topic of his awakening to Rei, and though there was some doubt that he would, his doctor had been very positive that he would. Something deep down, some part of you that you aren’t sure is human tells you the same. 

Bringing your cup to your lips, you take a cursory sip before mumbling, “You should go see Touya when he wakes up, I’m sure he’d love to see you.”

“I’ll pick up Fuyumi and the rest of them so they can go with you.”

The older woman looks to you, a kind of delicate resolution in her grey eyes. One you don’t quite like right now. 

“Will you join?” She asks, her voice lined with a hopeful lilt.  

Your immediate expression just so unfortunately has to be forlorn, didn’t it? You’d come to accept your soon approaching retirement from the Todoroki family’s lives, or perhaps more like waning appearances, with the possibility of Touya’s awakening coming ever closer. It wasn’t as if you wanted to abandon them, but you had come to the conclusion that soon, it should just be the six of them. 

You just so happened to be the one that helped it get back on the right track, that was all to it. After all, you were just a dream. Your role will soon be over, and you’ll get your peaceful life before you know it. 

Shrugging your shoulders, your brows furrow together as you meet her eyes, “Maybe, but wouldn’t it be kinda intrusive?” 

“Of course not,” Rei is quick to quell your doubts, “You’re practically family.”

“He doesn’t know who I am.” You propose. Surely, surely this would be a valid doubt. No child wants to see a random stranger when they wake up from a coma. 

She gently insists, easily turning your prior statement back onto you, “Then, I’m sure he’ll want to meet the person who saved him.”

All your energy just deflates, and you can only hang your head and acquiesce. You never really could argue with her in the end, not when she’s clearly far better at picking apart your flimsy excuses. With a weak laugh, you avert your gaze.  

“Maybe at a different time.” 

At this, the conversation returns to that silence from a few moments ago, tinged with a tension that did not previously exist. Still, it's not one that stifles but rather lingers at the back of your mind, merely a thoughtless element. The two of you continue in this pleasant silence, with the occasional sip of tea or your eventual offer of fruit. As you bring over two forks, your mind suddenly brings up the project you’ve been working on. 

“Rei-san.” You call for her momentary attention, digging through your bag for a set of papers to show her. 

When you finally find the correct file, you hand it over to her as you watch her flip through the pages with a nervous ball of your fist. Inside the plastic portfolio was a set of places that differed from landed housing to apartments, something you could put together with your new time and resources. You thought about a bunch of different factors but ultimately, you felt like you couldn’t quite trust just your insight. 

As though awaiting judgement, you confess, “I thought about getting you a place if you still didn’t feel comfortable living with your husband when you get out, but I wasn’t sure.”

She runs a hand down a certain page, one you recognise having a garden. The woman continues to look through everything you have to offer, but when she reaches the last section, the one you thought she’d like most, she stops. There was a simple fondness in her eyes, and when she now meets your timid gaze, it only seems to grow.  

“Whatever you think is best, I think I’ll like, I’m sure of it.”

A smile pulls at your lips as a soft sigh escapes you. “That’s great but you still gotta tell me.”

Rei laughs, and you find the sound to be nothing but sonorous. You wonder whether she’ll continue to laugh like this when you eventually leave. 

Eventually, the call that Touya has awakened comes. The news comes on a weekday while the children are at school, and you keep true to your promise. Their mother had only just recently arrived per your own confirmation, so now you merely wait outside the hospital, waiting for a familiar car to pull up.

Your eyes scan across the crowd, darting between your surroundings and your watch. It's only when you hear a very loud call of your name from a certain boyish voice that you know that they’re here. In the distance, you spot three silhouettes coming ever closer. 

With a wide smile, you wave at the three children as they rush towards you as best they can, with Fuyumi trying to make sure Shouto doesn’t fall over himself in his scurry while Natsuo watches over the two of them. When they do reach you, your hand ruffles Shouto’s hair as you greet Fuyumi, holding out your hand for Natsuo to hold as the youngest happily swings his sister’s and yours.

“Come on, your mom’s waiting for y’all,” You huff in amusement, your lips quirking upwards as you lead them towards that room. 

You’ve long since grown familiar with the format of this hospital wing, if not for your own checkups then for you near daily visits. For once, there’s little chatter to distract you from your thoughts, the walk uncomfortably quiet yet, your head is completely clear. As if nothing could possibly marr your existence at this very moment, living in the present and for once, you can distinctly note how the slight chill on your hands, yet warm all the same.  

Shoes squeaking against the tiles, under cool light and seated on a bench is their mother. With her hands clasped together on her lap, when she catches sight of her children, her eyes seem to soften. You only just manage to greet her, and subsequently allow the children to greet and join Rei. Before you know it, your palms are no longer cold, you don't know how you feel about it. 

The years of healing has allowed the family more than enough time, for Rei to heal and to come to terms with her actions, and for Endeavour to realise his hubris before it costs him everything. It has allowed for Shouto who undeniably adores his mother this new happier fate, has allowed for Natsuo to gain the parents he never truly had in that world, has allowed Fuyumi some semblance of that distant past she thought lost.  

These years will allow Touya everything he would have lost in that crueller, harsher world. He will wake up and everything will be better. 

A nurse slides open the door to let the family in, presumably explaining the eldest’s condition based on her expression. You don’t join them, retreating to stand by the hallways walls as you watch them. With your focus so inherently placed onto the nurse and the few that remain inside, you’re scarce to notice a child standing in front of you, a small hand pulling on your coat for your attention. 

“Aren’t you joining us?” The youngest asks innocently, wide eyed and curious. 

Crouching down, you put on a gentler expression as you speak, “Your older brother will want to see all of you.” Your hand takes his to rub a thumb over his knuckles, and you don’t ignore how he tries to catch your hand to hold onto it,  “I’ll just wait outside, okay?”

He only scrunches his nose before murmuring, “Okay…”

Shouto seemingly accepts your explanation, and in an unlikely fashion, does not cling onto you despite his words. He scurries off to join the rest of them, perhaps realising his mother’s sudden worry over his disappearance and Fuyumi’s approach. She doesn’t ask you to join them, but something in her eyes glints with that exact same desire. You only smile, patting her head. 

As the four of them enter, you resign yourself to the rushing thoughts in your head. You’ll start retracting from their lives after today, this was the plan, no? You’d try to fix everything before he wakes up, and if you do, you’d become the occasional family friend. Perhaps you’d drop by every-so-often to make sure that everything was still going well, perhaps you’d visit during birthdays, but you never meant for any of this to go beyond three years. 

You just don’t know what you’ll do from here on out. The system has been quiet since your last quest three years ago. It hasn’t pinged to notify you of any warnings, no new quests or new messages. You have nothing. 

A set of footsteps sound from beside you, and when you turn to see who is approaching you, a soft huff escapes you. A middle-aged woman in a white coat holding a clipboard greets you before joining you by the wall. She’s tall enough that you have to look up at her whenever you speak to her, she stares down at you with lowered eyes, pin-straight hair bound in a ponytail swishing to the side. 

“Aren’t you going to go in?” Dr. Onizuka Masae hums, crimson eyes watching your expression. 

You only shake your head, “Nah, he needs his family.”

Neither of you speak, letting the rest of the world pass you by as you stand side by side. Initially, you only knew that she was your primary physician for your recovery. You thanked her when you got out of the hospital about three years ago, and sent her a basket of flowers and fruits. However, it seems that the two of you were destined to meet, as a few days later, you ran into her with her daughter in the central business district. 

Though the two of you only chatted for a while, when she had accidentally let slip that she treated both you and the eldest Todoroki child, it was as if you had another debt to fulfil to this seemingly miraculous woman. This debt was one you don’t know whether you could ever repay, not when she has let him still continue to use his quirk, let him still pursue the path he may want. You don’t know what she did, how she managed to do it, but you all but owe your life to her. 

“I never did thank you, huh?” You laughed, your head lowered. 

She looks to you with an incredulous furrow in her brow, cocking her head as her eyes narrow, “For what?”

“For saving him.”

Masae blinks, but upon noticing the determination in your eyes, shakes her head. She probably doesn’t know how much she’s done for him, and even if the rest of the world never learns of her brilliance, you’ll spend the rest of your days praying for her if it means repaying her great deed. 

“I didn’t do anything special,” She breathes, a sardonic bite to her velvety voice.  “I’m just doing what I should have.”

From your bag, your fingers brush against a soft, plush surface. You pull out the stuffed animal and offer it to her, “For your daughter, I didn’t know what to get so I just got something I thought she’d like.”

She accepts the gift with a momentary wide-eyed shock, one that is quick to disappear. Masae smiles, a gentle tug across her pallid visage, “You’re a good kid, you know?”

You can hear everything in that room, you can hear quiet sobs coming from someone, everyone. You hear a voice, raspier and scratchy from disuse, apologising. You do your best to tune out such a private moment from your ears. Averting your gaze, you laugh. 

“Yeah.”

Endeavour comes to visit shortly after the rest of the family leaves. You meet up with him after sending the children and Rei off, standing ram-rod straight as the sun dips below the horizon and bathes the world in warm sunlight. He isn’t the scared and mournful man from three years ago, yet not the stubbornly hubristic fool from before. You still don’t know how to perceive him, but you’re certain that he will be kinder to his son that only wanted his acknowledgement. 

The two of you don’t exchange any words, merely striding off towards the room once more. Again, you remain outside as father and son reunite, listening for any hint of misunderstanding once more. The older man has learned from your words it seems, as for once, there’s barely any heated words nor yelling coming from an interaction between the two of them. Masae passes by you again, she doesn’t say anything when she sees you seated on the bench, merely handing you a cup of water from the nearby water fountain. 

You can only assume that all has gone well when he emerges from the room, and when you raise a brow, he only nods. Endeavour leaves shortly after that, you remain outside. Even as staff enter and exit, you remain outside. Visiting hours are soon to end and though you can already see a few nurses starting their routines, you remain outside. You don’t know why but you can’t bring yourself to move from your spot, both listening and ignoring every sound coming from within that room. 

Hunched over yourself, you hear a familiar walking rhythm approaching you. Masae has another cup of water in her hand and a vague expression on her face. She’s still in her scrubs and though her very being appears flawless, there was a weariness to her perennial features. 

“Do you want to see him?” She asks, her smooth voice uncharacteristically terse. 

You bring your hands up to deny her, scrambling to explain yourself once more, “I shouldn’t–”

“Do you want to see him?”

The doctor doesn’t let you look away, you can’t look away, forcing you to meet her gaze head on. Carmine eyes bore into you and urge you to respond, truthfully. 

You furrow your brows, and your hands instinctively reach for your bag to rise. She only huffs, already sliding the door as quietly as possible to let you in. 

Touya’s room is still just as you remember, with a pile of letters on his bedside and a few gifts his siblings insisted on picking out. The letters aren’t as neat as you remember, your hands compiling them into a tidy stack as you rearrange some of the gifts so he’d have space. 

A wide window brings in some natural moonlight onto his face, highlighting the youthful curves of his visage and the scars of his new skin. He’s still a bit skinny, not a cause for concern but still a factor that squeezes your heart. Your eyes trace his long lashes, of which have already grown back, down to the haphazard way he’s tucked in. On instinct, you reach to adjust the blanket, bringing it up to his chest. For a moment, your fingers brush against new skin, slightly rough but ultimately not the gnarled scars of that world. An odd feeling of relief fills you. 

Yet your one moment of weakness is immediately punished with his shifting. Your hand flinches away and you turn to leave upon that disturbance, your heart pounding in your chest as every part of you rushes to take fright. You’re halfway out the door when the young boy’s voice stops you right in your tracks. 

“Wait!”

His voice sounded so distraught for just a moment, you could swear you were imagining some part of it, making up a narrative to justify your unjustified worry. You think he recognises you, but you’d be stupid to get your hopes up. Yet still, you listen, turning around to face him. 

“I…” He hesitantly looks at you, as though unsure of what to say. In the end, he still manages, “Thank you, for saving me.”

“It’s nothing, I just did what anyone would.” You shake your head.

When neither of you can find the voice to speak, you find your mind still racing. You shouldn’t be here, you shouldn’t be in his room. You should have left hours ago, you should be in your bedroom getting ready to live your peaceful life. 

Your voice is soft, barely above a whisper as you speak, “You’re very strong, do you know that?”

“Get some rest, your family will be visiting tomorrow.”

“It was great meeting you, Touya,” You smile, poignant emotions of unknown origin roiling in your stomach. 

Without looking back, you leave, wiping your eyes, careful to not scratch an eyeball out and taking off into the long night as your eyes burn with stray tears. He’s alive, he’s alive, he’s alive.

He’s alive.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Not even two days into your supposed retirement, you were surprised by a call around three in the afternoon. You were just lazing around in your living room torturing your hands with tiny jump-rings when your phone started to reenact a seizure on your floor. Of course, when you looked over to check the caller ID and saw that it was Fuyumi, you immediately scurried to put on proper clothes while answering the call. 

You thought something came up, you thought she might have needed something with the timing being so close to her school release. Imagine your surprise when it wasn’t Fuyumi’s voice, but rather a very determined Shouto asking where you were. 

“Where are you?” He huffed, his indignation all but palatable through the phone, “You said you’d come visit with us today.”

You had to take a moment to think back to the past few days, you did not make any kind of promises related to that. Hesitantly, you could only mutter perplexedly, “I did?”

“You told us that you’d meet up with us to visit Touya-nii.” The boy affirmed. 

From beside him, Natsuo had seemingly come up to speak as well. “Yeah! You promised mom you’d come with us.”

At the time, you were pretty sure you could hear Fuyumi’s amused huff too. 

You were very clearly being gaslit, if they even knew what that was. The worst part of it all was that it worked. In your panic, you actually believed that you forgot and rushed over as soon as you could, haphazardly grabbing a container of fruit as a cursory gift. By the time you arrived at room A48, you were so thoroughly out of breath that it took you five minutes to regain your natural breathing as well as all but collapsing onto a chair. 

Safe to say, you got conned, real good. 

That little situation was not the only time. Trying to retreat from their lives resulted in you being gaslit into joining them. And if you thought it was just going to be the children, you were wrong. So wrong. 

A few days later when you were visiting Rei, she started talking about how the children will be freer with the upcoming holidays and how she’d like for them to spend more time outside of the house. You of course agreed, which is when everything went downhill and somehow led to you staying in the Todoroki estate for the summer. Interspersed between those were the routine visits to the ward and the hospital, which meant by the second day of this very weird situation, you realised that you weren’t just the run-of-the-mill family friend anymore. 

You could only thank every god that Endeavour was not in on this. 

Perhaps then one might think, with the youngest now being 10, you shouldn’t be here anymore, right? 

Wrong again. 

This time, it came out of your own volition. Having discussed this choice with everyone involved, you decided to return to your routine visits with Touya’s discharge a year ago. And with one less place to visit as well as the impending sense of doom gone, it was obvious that your mood has certainly improved. 

As of now, five years have passed since the incident, Rei’s departure from the psychiatric ward seems to come ever closer while you started work as a translator for some minor company. The eldest has started high school for heroics after much needed interventions, heart-to-hearts, and even bribes (you weren’t proud of this one), with support equipment having been made much earlier as well as the consultation of Dr. Onizuka. 

Regardless, with autumn having befall the earth once more and your days a lot more free, you had decided to take a trip to the city as a little treat for all your hard work. And also because Hiroomi was finally back in the country and he forced you to meet up with him under the premise that he— and you apparently– need to pick up some new coats for the coming winter. 

Swirling a mug of tea he was offered, he keeps his eyes on the passing pedestrians, large horns just barely covered by the store window’s curtains. Contrary to belief, due of the draconic nature of both your identities, colder weather did in fact affect Hiroomi more than he would like to admit, which meant that though he was attempting to be the aloof and unbothered CEO that he was, the fact that he’s desperately clinging onto his cup said a lot. 

In the cosey little tailors, your brother takes a sip. There was something about his current face that you had no other way to describe it beyond, ‘bitter mother-in-law’. Rather than even looking in your general direction, he remained focused on the sparse cars driving by.

He speaks, practised and controlled, “It's good that you’ve found a job you like, but don’t you think you should stop meddling with some random family’s lives?”

“Unless you wanted to be the one to convince Endeavour to go to therapy, I don’t think you should be allowed to talk,” You hum in response, almost half tempted to snatch the cup out of his hands. 

“Besides, you’re never here so why does it bother you so much?”

At this, he finally deigns himself to look at you, an overexaggerated sigh accompanied with a deadpan look. 

“It bothers me because you’re sticking your nose in things that don’t involve you,” Hiroomi snarks, an acerbic note to his words

“Look, I get it,” You sigh, but as the memories of all those times come rushing back to you, your face twitches. “But I tried to back away, and do you know what happened?”

The older man looks at you, motioning with an eyebrow for you to continue. 

“The kids and their mom conned me into staying.”

The last remaining light in his eyes seems to die at this very moment, and were it not for the cup in his hand, he likely would have smacked you with all the strength he could muster. You had no doubt about it, and perhaps because of that, you only met his eyes with a blank stare. Hiroomi, strong as he is, brings a hand up to his face as his shoulders deflate. 

“You’re smarter than this,” He just manages to wheeze out. 

With a shake of your head and a pointed look, you can only rasp back, “You know I’m not.”

After this, silence seems to naturally fall, with the only sounds being the chatter and footsteps of pedestrians, as well as the rhythmic humming of a sewing machine from behind the store. There’s a soft smell of hot iron air and tea, of detergent washed fabric and gentle pine. And the voices of a few people talking, then a young boy’s voice saying he saw you…?

This does not go unheard by your elder brother, directing his attention to the source of the sound. As he squints off into the distance, his voice cants higher, “Why is there…? Why is there a group of children pointing at you?”

“What?” You turn back, and when this elicits a very enthusiastic wave from Fuyumi and Shouto, Rei likewise smiling when you notice her, you now realise were in fact what you were hearing and your jaw slacks. Your hand reaches up to his arm, as though to push him back, “Oh god.”

“You’re telling me you got cheated by an eight year old?” Hiroomi snides, clearly an appropriate time to talk about your idiocy. 

“Don’t, please don’t.”

The two of you can only watch as the youngest, and arguably still the baby of the family, drags everyone into the store. Though you hadn’t expected to run into them, you still greet each and every sibling as well as bowing to their mother, letting Shouto hold onto your hands as he presses the pads of your fingers.

With your other hand, you gesture towards the frankly, rather bewildered group. “This is my brother, Hiroomi. Hiroomi, this is the family I’ve been helping with.”

Everyone greets him, albeit perhaps still a little awkwardly. Rei still has the decorum to shake his hand when he offers it, Touya only brings his hand up for a quick wave, Fuyumi at least has the rationale to do more than just that, while Natsuo does an awkward blend of the two. The only one seemingly unaffected by this tension is again, the youngest, who merely waves and introduces himself like normal. 

“It's a pleasure to meet all of you, my sister quite enjoys your company so I hope you continue to take care of her,” He recovers quickly from the shock, bowing and speaking without noticeable cant or lilt. While that wouldn’t sound out of the ordinary, it's important to know that this was a thirty five year old man bowing to a family so deeply he might as well have accidentally stabbed one of them and apologised in response.

“Why are you acting like that?” Hissing, you send him a pointed glance. 

When he only sends you a dirty look and a raised brow, you mutter, “You’re talking like you’re meeting some business partner’s spouse.”

The elder’s face twists in displease, a brief break from his usually austere expression. Yet again he keeps his pleasant smile on as he discusses god knows what with Rei, a little bubble of agreeable badinage. You can only assume 

The tension is only broken when a little old lady emerges from the back holding two coats, handing them off to the both of you as she greets the Todoroki family, under the rightful impression that they were here for her services. 

As Hiroomi hefts on the coat, he thanks her, again bowing his head. He turns to you with a stern gleam in his eyes. “I have to go. I will update you when I’m back in the country,” With a last bow and another statement of gratitude, he steps out of the quaint store and into a car already waiting for him, one you hadn’t realised was there until now.  

Seriously, you’d think you’d already be used to the way he talks when other people are around but you aren’t. 

Before you forget, you thank the old woman, not quite as severe as your brother but still eliciting a fond laugh from her regardless. She urges you closer and suddenly places a hand on your head, patting as she starts reminiscing about you and your brother’s ‘insistent politeness’. You have to nod your head and agree and laugh at her every sentence, and it almost seems like an eternity until you’re finally let go. At least, not before you leave with a few candies in your pockets. 

Eventually, you can turn your full attention towards the somehow still waiting group, a mixture of attempted nonchalance, full blown maladroit and just plain old indifference. You have to resist the urge to laugh right there and then, instead putting on a smile that clearly screamed the opposite of everything it stood for. 

“Was that actually–?” Fuyumi asks. 

A snort of amusement escapes you, “Yeah.”

Taking a quick glance at your watch, you’re about to open your mouth to say something but you’re swiftly interrupted by Shouto pulling your hand. 

“Do you want to come with us to the aquarium?”

When he looks at you with those big eyes and innocent look, how were you supposed to deny him? Who cares that you just wanted to have a slow day and go back to sleep, certainly not you. 

It turns out, the actual reason they even managed to run into you stems from the fact that the aquarium was a few blocks down from the tailors, that and the fact that someway, somehow, someone had learned over the years to recognise the exact length of your horns from the back, thus effectively able to point out your being in the first place. Everyday you wonder whether increasing insanity might be a trait of each generation in My Hero Academia. 

When you do get there, you thank every god that has ever existed that the ticket line isn’t some hour long wait, and when Rei offers to pay for your ticket, you remember blacking out and pulling out your wallet before she could even finish her question. You don’t even know why you did that and you’re starting to think the influences of your prior life are never going to leave you at this point. 

Handing the little information pamphlet to each of them, everyone is careful to watch their step until you eventually ask about the source of the sudden trip. 

“Hey, did y’all just decide to go to the aquarium because of boredom or..?” You tentatively bring up, lifting your skirt so you could see the next step. 

Touya only takes a glance at the admittedly very excited youngest two and snorts, “Nah, Shouto said he wanted to go and got Natsuo in on it.”

“Sounds about right.”

As you walk behind the rest of them, a soft smile pulls on your lips. While Shouto is fond of all his siblings, he’s rather much fonder of his older brother. So ahead of Fuyumi and Natsuo were the two of them, the youngest was pointing at all the things he wanted to see as the oldest only grins and nods. Their mother watches over them, ahead of you and just trailing behind. 

This is what they should have had, they should have gotten to be children and bond as a proper family, you’re glad that they have that chance here. 

Looking down at the pamphlet, you absentmindedly read over the miniscule details that range from the history of the aquarium to the events that were held throughout the week. A bit unfortunate that there’d be no shows being held for today, but it wasn’t like it was the end of the world. 

When you do look up, you realise that you were now in a much larger room with wide tanks that reach the ceilings, soft blue light reflecting upon everyone in the room as a myriad of sealife drift through the crystalline waters. The rest of them have already run off somewhere and though you’d be more than a bit worried if they were any younger, it wasn’t like you were there to watch them. 

There’s a few seats situated in the middle of the large room, and by instinct, you head straight for one to enjoy the tranquil atmosphere that now surrounds you. It was remarkably quiet for an aquarium, with only a few couples and smaller families out and about, pressed to the glass and pointing at this fish or that crab. Letting out a soft sigh, you let your eyes drift along a wandering manta ray gliding through the waters, following its movements as it exposed its smiley visage towards the glass. A few younger children take note of this, pointing towards it and smiling at their parents. It did look rather silly, but silly was still cute. 

Your head rests on your hand, fingers against your cheek as you’re pulled out of your observation by the three boys calling for your attention, urging you over. When you do reach them, Shouto points at some fish, one you’re not even sure what to call, and stares at Touya with a deadly serious look in his eyes.

“That one looks like you,” He declares, finger pointed at ugliest looking fish you might have ever seen in your life. 

You don’t actually want to know what prompted this (not like you wouldn’t tell that to Hiroomi either), but clearly the elder does not take kindly to this comparison. He places his hand on his chest as an expression of pure and utter offence twists his features, eyebrows raised and jaw agape, the whole works. 

Touya meets his eyes and insists, “No it doesn’t.”

“It kinda does,” Ever helpful, Natsuo chimes in. 

Fuyumi does nothing to discourage this, merely shrugging her shoulders and snickering behind her hand. When the eldest looks at you, you have to do your best to stifle the snort that’s threatening to escape you. He gasps, a sour expression manifests on his face, as though having sucked on a lemon, snapping his head away with a dramatic huff. 

With the smuggest little grin you’ve seen on a ten year old, Shouto relishes in his victory as the rest of you finally succumb to the absurdity of the situation, chortling in Touya’s suffering while he only holds his head up in mock pique. Not even his own mother was immune to the light-hearted shenanigan, a charmed laugh escaping her lips. 

Quick to retort, he points at a similar looking fish, “Yeah and that one looks like you.”

“We’re still brothers then.” There’s a sudden heaviness now, the boy’s innocent yet unintentionally darling words having brought the teasing atmosphere to something else. Something a little more raw. No one speaks, perhaps a mixture of shock and heart ache, some kind of emotion a bit too heavy to fully speak out.

Placing a hand on his head to pat it, you point towards the two fish, gathered together in a little group of five. With a soft huff, you urge them to look where you’re pointing, “You’re all those fish.”

This brings down another moment of silence as they exchange glances. You try to meet their eyes, but when they do, you realise a certain someone is not quite like the others. 

Natsuo suddenly sends you a mordant look. “Are you saying we’re all ugly?”

You can only bring your hand to your face, not quite sure whether you want to laugh or cry as the rest of them pile onto you for your statement. 

By the time you escape your shackles of ugly fish calling, which never really ended because they all kept pointing at random animals and said some variation of ‘that’s you when you’re (insert action)’ or ‘you as a fish’, you’ve made it to the end of the exhibits and instead found your eyes straining to see in the sheer brightness of the souvenir store. 

Though you had originally planned to just look around, you noticed Natsuo squatting by a display shelf, looking at some of the smaller stuffed keychains of various animals. There’s a look of obvious conflict on his face, and when you get closer, you notice what he’s holding in his hand.

“Do you want it?” You hum.

He turns over the little plush whale shark keychain, but places it back. “Yeah.”

Squatting down near him, your hand reaches out to pick it right back, placing it in his hand as he looks at you with a vaguely wide-eyed look. 

“I’ll pay, okay? As a gift for letting me join today.”

At this, his entire face lights up as a wide smile stretches across his face. You’re suddenly dragged into a quick hug as he thanks you profusely, still holding onto the keychain as he does so. With a mirthful laugh, you pat his head and tell him that you’ll go find the rest of his siblings. 

While the other two boys take your offer with varying degrees of affirmation, Fuyumi is the one who shows some hesitation. Even if she was awfully preoccupied with the selection of tote bags they had, she still stood her ground. 

“Oh, you don’t have to,” She immediately tries to reject you. 

Taking her hands in yours, you maintain your stance, “As a treat, since all of you have been working so hard.”

Though Fuyumi still seems a bit hesitant, she eventually takes your word for it and leaves to grab something. Quite obviously, there was Natsuo’s whale shark, but Shouto came back with Fuyumi a little bit later, a small plush seal and a tote bag with jellyfish motifs in hand respectively. You also manage to find a self-watering glass globe in the shape of a seahorse, surreptitiously picking it up as a gift. 

Just before you could reach the cashier, the eldest slips to your side in the line, an acrylic shark keychain in the palm of his hand as well as, you noticed, a plush ray keychain. You don’t question it, placing down all the items as the cashier brings out the card machine, yet you’re scarce to notice Touya suddenly taking back the ray.

“Sorry, I’m paying for this one separately.” With a slight sheepish lilt to his voice, he retreats behind you. 

Still, you pay for everything with no issue and pass each and every single one of the gifts to their respective owners. Jogging over to Rei, you pull out the paper wrapped gift.

“Rei-san, this is for you.”

She’s careful to cradle it in her hands, peeling back enough of the paper to reveal the delicate craftsmanship. There’s a soft smile on her lips, “It's beautiful, thank you.”

As the rest of you patiently wait for the albino to finish his own payment, he eventually jogs out from the cashier to meet up, and as you’re about to hand him back his keychain, he presents the plush ray to you.

He insists, “It's for you, for joining us when you didn’t have to.”

Taking the keychain into your hands, the ray’s silly smile greets you as you bring it up to your face. A giddy smile pulls across your lips, and your hand reaches up to give him a pat on his shoulder, eyes squeezed in delight as your words lilt higher. 

“Thank you.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

As summer reaches its peak, you find yourself wondering why you were back here again. Chaperoning children that don’t actually need a chaperone, what has your life turned into? 

Touya is nineteen and Fuyumi is about to be eighteen, surely you wouldn’t need to be here. There were two borderline adults here, surely Natsuo and Shouto would be fine with them. But nooo, you can’t have that, that would be too out of character for the system who you're halfway certain is pushing situations for you. 

It wasn’t as if none of them could cook, no, you made sure that every single one of them had some level of skill. Frying an egg, cooking rice, chopping onions, something that would make sure they wouldn’t die if they were left on their own (only the system knows the flashbacks you have of fan art of Shouto and Touya cooking eggs on their bodies). 

And yet, here you are on their summer breaks, cooking the occasional meal and even engaging in every father’s favourite activity, squinting at homework and raging internally when nothing makes sense. The lot of you would gather around the paper, trying to figure out how to solve some over complicated worded maths question, only for the third child to confidently declare the answer, having done the same question a few years back. A dark part of your brain wonders whether Endeavour would ever be the kind of dad to pitch a fit over not understanding an ever evolving maths curriculum, maybe in a kinder world. 

The days have been horridly humid, and though it rains, it doesn’t help much. Honestly, you doubt that even if you made some storm strike down the whole of Shizuoka, you’d still be cooking alive. You’ve resorted to sleeveless shirts and shorts just to help and yet you’re constantly sweating from the heat. What was the point of having all this money if that man can’t even invest in proper air-conditioning? 

Tonight, you’ve been left in charge of the house against your will once more. Endeavour has at least had the decency to tell you why you had to come over, thus you’ve decided on making some cold soba for tonight, if not for yourself then for everyone else suffering alongside you. 

Normally, you’d have someone come help you in the kitchen depending on who was available, like taking out cutlery or bringing food to the table, but you think you might be alone for today. Fuyumi just got back from an outing with friends, Natsuo is currently working on some summer worksheets and Shouto, well… he’s not the best with knives right now. You would ask Touya but you’d rather not bother him right now, not when he’s enjoying his break from his last year of school. 

The sun is still rather high in the sky when you enter the kitchen, still bearing down its burdensome heat. Staring at the spread of ingredients you gathered, a few packs of soba, a pack of udon, dashi stock made a few days ago, you lazily fan yourself with your hand as you start filling a pot with water. 

It's around this point that you can feel your head hurt from the strain of your hair, and with ten million other things to think about, that sense of annoyance wasn’t at all what you needed. With a soft huff, you lazily let down your hair to re-do it, stretching out your lower back when you finish. It seems your age may be catching up with you, as a sound of relief escapes your lips when you can feel the lower vertebrae pop in relief. 

As you open your eyes, you notice the figure standing at the doorway with a blank expression and a cup in hand. You send him a quick wave before you return to your work, opening the pack of soba and discarding the plastic. The eldest Todoroki child doesn’t respond, he merely passes by you to the fridge and starts shovelling ice into his cup. There’s no other sound beyond the soft swell of violins from your phone, and despite hearing the fridge close, he doesn’t leave. 

“Are you good with soba for tonight?” You hum, blithely measuring noodles to be cooked and shared among you all. 

From somewhere behind you, he responds, “Yeah.”

“Alright,” Turning back to confirm, you pull out the pack of soba to show him, to which he only nods. “Do you want some kakiage?”

“Isn’t that inconvenient? I’m fine.”

Still holding onto the plastic wrapped noodles, your brows furrow ever so slightly as you assert, “If you want it, I’ll make it for you.”

There’s a complicated look on his face, one you can’t quite decipher. His eyes narrow and his jaw set, the two of you stand there as though trapped in some imaginary duel. You weren’t lying by any means, it wasn’t as if it was some big trouble to make julienne some onions and carrots if he really wanted kakiage. 

He approaches you, cup of ice water consumed within a few gulps as he meets your eyes. You don’t look away, only cocking your head. 

Finally, he speaks, brows knitted and voice strained, “And you wanna do it all on your own?” 

“Yeah? Unless you want to help,” You huff amusedly.  

Before you can react, he grabs the pack out of your hand and passes by you, heading towards the fridge to fill up the nearby metal bowl with ice. It takes you a while to snap out of your stupor, and with a pleasantly surprised breath, you quietly return to your measuring. 

Touya is unsurprisingly pretty decent at cooking, more attributed to the time he’s spent with the rest of his family. As the eldest, he’s been made to help around when he can, thus unlike Shouto, you can readily trust that your green onions will be cut all the way through. Although not every piece was completely even, not that you could judge, they were fairly uniform. Plus, he’s still rather winning in conversation, sniggering at the gossip you hear and even adding some of his own.

Spooning off grated radish and wasabi onto the individual bowls, you move onto arranging everything onto everyone’s trays before you have to eventually face the demon called the deep fryer. By the time you’ve cooked and distributed the noodles as well as having left the respective broths at their desired temperatures, Touya has already finished cutting all the vegetables needed for tempura. Which meant the only thing left for the both of you was to batter the vegetables up and to fry them, of which you aren’t exactly looking forward to. 

Despite your many encounters with heat, willing and unwilling, frying in general was not a cooking method you particularly liked. Hot oil is scary, hot oil in large amounts even more so. You didn’t even want to make tempura, but your only other option was mackerel and he doesn’t even like fish. Sure, your scales would spring up on the first sign of danger but that didn’t lessen the actual heart pounding, bone recognising fear that deep-frying evokes. 

With a heavy heart, you lower your chopsticks bearing the first sacrificial kakiage into the oil as the sound of sizzling fills the air. Touya stands beside you, admittedly closer towards the pan than you are but still beside you. When it finishes without qualm, only then does your heart briefly slow from its rapid pounding. 

After the first successful piece, you gain more confidence to start frying multiple at once, placing the remaining kakiage in as well as the zucchini. A few beads of sweat roll down your skin, forcing some hair to stick to your face. You try to remove it with your shoulder but to no avail. A hand reaches to flick it away from your forehead, the pads of thick fingers fleetingly brushing against your skin. 

“Thanks,” You send him a smile, eyes squeezing in mild delight.

Returning your focus to retrieving your fried vegetables from the pan, your ears pick up on the now much deeper breaths Touya takes. You should open the window soon, the circulation in here probably isn’t the best right now.

The two of you remain in your unofficial positions until everything has been fried and the stove is turned off. When your eyes glance towards the window, you notice that the sun has already started to dip below the horizon. Still, with everything finished and served, the only thing left to do is to bring it to the dining table and to call everyone else down. Then, of course, you’ll have to start clean-up. 

It is as you’re bringing out the first tray of food that a familiar figure starts to approach down the hall. Fuyumi, having seemingly realised how late it has gotten and that you never called her down, appears almost mortified when she notices you. With small but rushed steps, she scampers towards you. 

She’s quick to take the tray from your hands, asking, “Why didn’t you call me down to help?”

“I didn’t want to bother you from your fun, besides, I had Touya here,” You wave her off, eyes glancing towards the eldest emerging from the kitchen. Patting her on the shoulder, you reassure her, “I’ll go call the other two.”

Your footsteps pad down the wooden floors towards the siblings’ rooms, knocking on their respective doors, “Natsuo, Shouto, dinner’s ready.”

Though Natsuo responds with a quick ‘coming’, Shouto is already out before you can finish your sentence, his little face all but seeping with contentment knowing exactly what you made. When the two of you return to the dining table, it's already been set for five along with all the utensils. Still, you return to the kitchen to retrieve the jug of barley tea you made earlier in the afternoon as well as cups. 

Your return is considerably slower due to the tea, yet even still, you can hear some bits of conversation from within. You don’t quite catch anything legible, but when you enter, almost everyone has already settled into their seat. 

“Woah, this is a lot,” Natsuo comments, eyes scanning across the table. The third child glances over at his sister as he takes his seat. “I thought Fuyumi-nee would be too tired to help.”

“I was, someone else was helping,” She hums almost sing-songedly. 

Shouto on the other hand, scrutinises the five bowls of noodles set out, realising that his bowl has significantly less noodles than the rest. He still takes his seat but calls for your attention almost immediately after, “Why does my bowl have so little?”

“Because I wasn’t sure how hungry you’d be,” Your response is instantaneous despite your focus on pouring out tea for everyone. 

“Can I have more?”

“Mhm, just wait for a bit, okay? I’ll pass you some from my bowl.” You hand him his cup with a squeeze of your eyes, one that he happily accepts. 

Fuyumi and Natsuo don’t miss the way the eldest bites into his piece of zucchini like it wronged him. Ever oblivious, the youngest takes a sip from his cup and very eagerly, or as eagerly as he can display, starts to eat his soba. The rest follow his lead, starting their meal as the occasional bit of conversation springs up.

At this, you decide to get started on washing up, it’ll be more convenient sooner rather than later, especially with the hot oil. As you take your first steps back towards the kitchen, someone seems to notice your departure and alerts the table to it. 

“We’ll clean up later,” Fuyumi interjects before you can leave, accepting your cup passed to her by her brother to fill up. She looks at you with those hopeful eyes and you find yourself cracking once again, “Eat with us, please.”

The rest of the table chimes in, the younger three in different arrays of expectation. Yet, when your eyes land on Touya’s, heavy lidded yet still bearing some glimmer of that same hope, you let out a soft huff as the corners of your lips tug. You really couldn’t say no to them. 

“Fine.”

Dinner goes by rather quietly, with little being shared and perhaps a bit more teasing done, especially with Fuyumi’s recent outing. Let it be known that accusations of her secretly meeting up with someone was not on your initiative, but rather from the eldest. Of course, it isn’t long until everyone else dog piles on those claims as everyone is teased about imaginary lovers until eventually, a very innocent question is asked about your love life. 

Unsurprisingly, not many people are interested in dating someone who lives in the mountains. Nor are they interested in someone who may or may not be associated with the Yoshikawa family (you thank your parents and Hiroomi that they’ve kept your existence so vague, if only because it was fun to fuck with people). The topic is dropped as quickly as it was introduced and everyone returns to the quiet meal with little issue. Though distinctly, that tapping sound that started when your dating life got brought up stops. 

True to their words, you’re practically shoved away from the sink to help clean up by Fuyumi and Natsuo. And by shove, you mean they stared at you and said the magic words. They said, as you can so thoroughly quote, ‘you cook, we clean, that’s the rules’. They weren’t wrong, but that was just using your own words against you. You weren’t even allowed to wipe the table since Shouto beat you to that, somehow. You’re pretty sure all of them planned this. 

Still, they can’t keep you away from your habitual fruit cutting, and when they finish, you hand them their plate of peaches and grapes. Shouto had his smaller plate in the dining room, and he’s already back in his room, likely preparing to bathe. This leaves only one person left, who you find sitting outside, looking towards the courtyard as night descends upon the world. 

Approaching Touya, you offer him the plate of fruit with a hum, “Fruit?”

He accepts your offer, fingers brushing against your hand as he takes the ceramic plate into his care. Sitting beside him, you press your hands to your much cooler scales as the breeze fans off the both of you. Among the solitude, you roll your shoulders back as a yawn escapes you, one that leaves you slightly bleary with languour. You hear the clink of metal against ceramic, and when you look towards him, he’s offering you the remaining pieces, all the grapes rolling around with only the remnants of peaches. Instinctively, you reach out to pop a grape in your mouth. 

“You can ask me to help with meals when Fuyumi and Natsuo can’t, y’know?”

It's a sentence he springs onto you as you’re eating, one that has you sending him a wide eyed look of surprise. Still, you catch yourself fast enough to answer. 

“I don’t want to bother you,” Shaking your head, you smile. Your eyes glance towards the sky, a soft breath leaving you as a tinge of contentment fills you, “Besides, the two of them want to learn so it's fine.”

“Though, Fuyumi is already much better than me,” You laugh. 

He only reiterates his intentions, his voice taking on an earnest tone along with the slight shift in his visage, “I’m serious, I want to help.”

“Don’t think you’re forcing me or anything,” He’s quick to comment, as though knowing how you’d react.

You admit, you just didn’t think he’d really enjoy cooking, let alone cooking with another person in his space. Fuyumi may be the only exception where she doesn’t mind people around her as she cooks. It wasn’t really out of any hesitation or qualm, but rather perhaps some kind of awkwardness you didn’t want to acknowledge, couldn’t acknowledge. 

Yet, there was still a part of you that was scared that you somehow messed up, that somehow seeing that young boy in the dark void was a sign of your failure, that your new life was really an elaborate punishment from the system. But you didn’t like the thought of that, you hated the idea that the life you’ve helped the Todoroki siblings create was just some illusion. 

You feared above all that you never really did change anything, that bright and passionate Touya died in that fire, and that in all reality, there was only Dabi.

But you know better, you should know better. Although that resentment still existed within him, it certainly is not the seething odium of the original canon. Looking at him, he really isn’t that young boy anymore. Remnants of that possibility remain, the cartilage and nostril piercings (you were the one who accompanied him and Natsuo all those years ago), the scars that never healed completely seamlessly, the slightly more stoic personality he’s adopted, still he no longer treads down the path of his future as Dabi, but rather as Touya. 

That little ray keychain that hangs on your bag in a room, smiling at everyone who sees it, is proof enough.

You can only laugh, for there was no other expression that could better describe your joy, “Don’t blame me when you complain about how sweaty you’ll get then.”

He scrunches his nose at that, yet still a confident grin pulls across his face as he turns your statement back onto you. 

Among the summer winds and sparkling stars, the system pings.

[!New Objective: Always with Me!]

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Touya is 21 years old when he makes his debut as a pro-hero. Though you won’t get into the details as to exactly what happened when the topic of which agency he’d sign into, the only thing you will share is that there were a lot of emotionally constipated talks.

Thus, with the promise that again he would not push himself to his limits alongside using the proper support equipment as per Dr. Onizuka’s recommendations, he was eventually let off the hook. It would be an understatement to say that he was both glad to be out of that situation as well as conflicted. Or you supposed he was. It must certainly have been odd, especially since while he was signed under a hero who seemingly had a fire quirk, it seemed that they specialised more in evacuation and stealth so you honestly have no idea why he signed under them. 

You’ll be honest, you don’t actually know how everything happened, you just remember mediating and advocating for his choice, and then suddenly you were being invited for events that clearly were meant for family.  

Safe to say, Touya has been working under this pro with almost no issue. Concurrently,  you never really heard of them, and information about them has been spotty based on what the system shows you, but you weren’t going to sweat it.

Thus with the arrival of spring, as well as obviously almost everyone back to their routine of school and work, you could retreat back to your routine. Which incidentally, you decided that you needed to get a better grasp on the current situation, seeing as you’d been putting all your efforts into the Todoroki family and thereby accidentally ignoring everything else. 

Musutafu is ultimately not that different from any big city you’ve been in, and with the plot having progressed as late as you have let it, you’re not exactly sure what you’re looking for. Rather, you might have realised your propensity to claim to do things for the plot, only to turn around and do as you please. Still, you were going to get that peaceful life promised to you sooner or later, and your idea of a peaceful life happened to involve some kind of romance, thank you very much. 

So who cares that you don’t actually have much to do, you’re due for a nice stroll anyways. 

Your feet rap against the concrete pathways, strolling as your eyes trail across the shops on display. The blithe spring wind whistles in your ears and the sunlight is gentle, there aren’t too many people on the streets and there isn’t any odd chaos, it's practically the perfect day. 

You’ve already gotten a little lost in some massive liminal department store, very thoroughly did not get tempted to buy unnecessary things like a ladle shaped like a dinosaur or a traditional tea set. So when you returned back to reality and saw a cute little bakery just across the street, you decided to take a bit more of a scenic route so you’d work up the appetite to treat yourself. 

Being in this part of Musutafu, you’re surprised you’ve yet to see any patrolling heroes but then again, you’re not sure exactly who would be going through here anyways. By the time you get to the patisserie, you’re positively peckish for a treat when your eyes land on a prettily decorated peach tart. There were a few other tarts and cakes, but for some reason you just couldn’t take your eyes off of it. 

Peaches. He likes peaches.

Approaching the counter, you wind up getting a slice of key-lime pie and some tarts for the rest of them, as well as that peach tart.

The woman at the counter seemed all but pleased at your selection, even noting that the tart you kept staring at was their best seller at the moment. Internally, you preened at your astute instincts, externally you only laughed and thanked her. 

As you exit the store, which you regrettably did seeing as you did actually have other things to see, you feel your phone buzz in your bag. Hiking the bag of pastries onto your elbow, you dig around for your buzzing phone to find Fuyumi’s caller ID flashing on your screen. 

You press your phone against your ear, likewise checking the time on your watch just to make sure. “Hm? Fuyumi?”

“Are you in the city? Apparently there’s been reports of a criminal running around so I just wanted to check in on you,” Her voice is soft, likely on her break and calling the first moment she could. In the background, you could hear the soft sounds of children. 

“Mhm, well I’m fine. A small-time criminal is nothing compared to what I’ve been through.” Your hand reaches up to wave her off, eyes tipped towards the ground as you continue walking. 

“I’ll be dropping by later, is that okay?” You hum, looking through your little bag of goodies. As you speak, your eyes drift to the peach tart,  “I got some pastries from this bakery and I think you’d all like them.”

Just as you look up, you perhaps again remember that the system hates you. A small gasp escapes you, and it's the only sound you can muster, “Ah–”

You should be better than this, you’re supposed to be above petty crime, so why is it that you always end up in these stupid situations? How was this even possible? You couldn’t possibly be taken hostage right after you said all that, could you? 

Fuyumi wasn’t wrong when she said there was a criminal causing chaos, because said criminal was currently holding you hostage with a blade to your throat. He’s dressed a little shabbily, and honestly calling him a villain is a bit too generous, if anything he was just some punk with a knife. You say knife, but if you actually bothered to look, it was more like his finger was a knife. Anyways, you’d dare say the only crime he’s committed is smashing your pastries on the ground, and you were going to give those to the rest of them. 

He’s yelling of something you could care less for to the petrified bystanders, and by god you did not think they were genuinely all that useless. Surely someone would have the balls to at least call the police? 

Although you could theoretically strike him down with lightning (or your scales would spread up on instinct and just make the poor guy look like a buffoon), you weren’t feeling for another fine, not today. You’d just let the poor guy do whatever he’s going to do, it’s not like he could actually kill you anyways. Not when the system took ‘unkillable NPC’ literally. 

[User should still try to actually escape (＃＞＜)]

“Oh nooo, help me, I’ve been kidnapped.” You groan.  

Your captor hisses at you, pressing his blade (finger) closer towards your neck, “What the fuck is wrong with you? Most people actually scream that you know?”

Catching his gaze out of the corner of your eye, you can only sneer, “Kinda hard to scream when I’m not particularly stimulated right now, sorry bud, you’re real fucking boring.”

Still, despite seemingly the entire crowd’s expectation, no one comes. You start wondering whether you could just grab onto the blade and jam it into his head. He couldn’t just destroy your pastries and not pay. You paid good money for those. 

As you lament your smashed tarts, your ears pick up on something. In the distance, you think you hear a familiar catchphrase and your face cringes. Maybe your system was really becoming those systems that push stupid situations for the plot. 

[!New Side Quest: Love under Fire!]

Before your very eyes, you’re faced with arguably the most recognisable hero of both this world and your own. 220cm of pure muscle, you did not think that American comic book shading would translate well into real life, yet here you are. The All Might, about to save you from the most cliche crime ever. 

You didn’t miss that system notification. Was this really going to be the start of your love story? 

Just your luck, you wail and moan about being single forever and the system pushes the one person you joked about being your only option right in front of your eyes. Well, it wasn’t as if All Might is unattractive in either form.  Who knows when you’ll get to see him next, you might as well try your chances. Even if you had a knife against your throat. 

If the system wants to play stupid games, then it’ll win stupid prizes, starting now. 

Though distinctly feeling the press of metal digging into your skin, you put on your most winning smile as your glasses tip down your nose. 

“Hey, come here often?”

The young man all but screeches, “Lady, I can literally slit your throat right now. Why are you flirting with All Might?”

“I have zero game, let me have this,” Hissing, you bite back. 

He’s dumbfounded at this, face twisting in disgust as his hand falters ever so slightly. Perhaps the only one more confused than him was the man himself, the unwitting catalyst for your horrid dalliance. You wish you could better describe it, but the only way you could was making one imagine the man himself, the very Symbol of Peace™ with a giant question mark bubble coming out of him. Perhaps if you were more eloquent, but alas. 

It was time. Time to use the English you hold so dear to your heart. Or more like English with a select few Japanese sprinkled in.  

“Are you from Tennessee?” With a wink and a smile, you lift your hand to throw him a finger gun as you continue the line in English. “Cause you’re the only ten I see.”

The man and All Might share a look, one you can only describe as utter and complete bafflement, albeit for two completely different reasons. You don’t let that stop you, no, if anything, it only encourages you. Seeing him like this blurting out anything trying to piece together a proper sentence, certainly had its appeal you must admit. 

“On a scale of one to America, how free are you tonight?” Your grin doesn’t falter, summoning some light winds to breeze through your hair as well as blinding your captor. 

As the man spits out your hair from his mouth, another person is at the scene. This time, it's a young woman who maybe comes up to All Might’s elbows, large fox-like ears on her head with a few tails sprouting from her back. You vaguely recognise her from watching the news, another pro-hero but definitely not one you can recognise from canon.

“What the actual fuck.” She blurts out, equally confused. 

The older man manages to say something through his shock, proclaiming, “Young Zenko! Language!”

“I don’t think the kidnappee blurting pick up lines is worth that,” She yells back.

You send another coy grin, your teeth peeking through your lips, “If the Arizona heat didn’t exist, you’d be the hottest thing on this earth.”

By this point, there’s more than a few cameras pointed at you. It's only at this point that some shame rushes to you, but goddamn it, if the system was going to force a side quest on you called ‘Love under Fire’, you were going to put your all into it! As you’re about to blurt out another bad America related pick-up line, you’re very rudely interrupted by the person who smashed your beloved tarts. 

“Look, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with her too, just take me alright?” Your captor huffs, throwing his hands in the air after his finger returns to normal. “I don’t even want to kill her anymore.”

“Boo, boring,” You sneer. 

Before he can even fully process what you said, a concentrated jet of blue flames rushes past you to slam into him. You didn’t even know that was possible. Nevertheless, the poor guy now lay knocked out on the concrete, unsurprisingly not burnt despite the fire’s very, very miffed owner. 

However, since you were effectively being held up by your captor until he decided to give up like a coward, your knees had forgotten that it actually had a job in holding you upright. The rapidly approaching ground fills your vision until it isn’t, a rather strong and large arm having caught you mid-fall. 

Looking up, you’re greeted with that face once more, and there was only one thing going through your head as you remained in that arm. 

Was your heart pumping like no one’s business because of almost face-planting into concrete, or because you were face to face with a very attractive man right now?

“Good job distracting the perpetrator, young lady! Though I must admit, I did not think bad pick-up lines would be so effective!” All Might flashes you a blinding smile, and you must be seeing heaven right now with how truly bright it is. 

He thought…. He thought you were just distracting him? 

You would fall down to your knees if it wasn't for him supporting you right now! Your heart could cry from this! You could sue for emotional damage, that’s how hurt you are!

“Ah…yes. Th-thank you…” You wheeze out, managing to steady yourself despite your rejection (not). 

And just as fast as he appeared, he’s gone in a blink of an eye, probably to save more people and to break more hearts. Zenko, the shorter woman, approaches you, a complicated expression on her face that you’ll pin as mild revulsion. Looking at her, you notice her hero costume reminds you of a certain series, though you’re hesitant to call it out. There’s something familiar about her name though, you wonder why. 

A voice calls out from behind her, one very familiar and one you really hoped was not who you thought it was. Yet again, you’re wrong. His voice is stolid, un-betraying of any hint, “Zenko.”

The hero only waves him over, and just like his greeting, there is nothing on his expression beyond what seems to be mild and professional chagrin. 

“Touya.” You stumble forwards, having to be steadied by her, eyes scanning over his being to check for something you yourself weren’t sure of existing.

“You know him?” She murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear.

In an almost uncharacteristic act of what you think might be concern, he reaches out to almost ghost over your neck. He asks, and if you strained, you could hear just the slightest lilt in his voice, “Are you okay?”

He’s taller than you, you’ve only now fully realised that. Being so close to him, you wonder whether he’s always looked so pretty with his brows furrowed together and his eyes so full of focus. His lashes, both upper and lower, are still so long, they almost kiss his cheeks. Even with the slightly discoloured scars, you don’t think you’ve seen a prettier person in all your years here. You should really thank Rei for having such strong genes someday. 

“Hm? Yeah. ‘s not like the guy could have done anything anyways, just didn’t want to get another fine,” You smile, brain barely processing anything much. 

“That shouldn’t be what you’re worrying about!”

Zenko sucks in a breath through her teeth, “I think that’s our cue to leave.”

“Nothing to see here! Situation handled, criminal arrested!” Zenko yells out, holding up her hands as a trained smile is pulled across her lips. 

Despite their obvious doubt, upon the urge of a hero, the crowd eventually disperses and you’re made to follow along to file the relevant report. The car ride to the agency is deathly quiet, with Zenko placed between the two of you and nervously glancing between the two of you like she was a kid in the middle of her parents arguing. No one acknowledges what just happened. In fact, nothing is said up until you’re pushed into a room by the hero who has a very obviously fazed look on her face, before she promptly pushes Touya in too. 

It takes him all but 10 seconds before he continues grilling you over your recklessness. And you swear that you have never been more confused in your life. 

His hands are thrown up in front of him, emphasising his every word as he chews into you, “Do you think you’re unkillable or something? Why’d you just let that guy threaten you?” 

“He could have killed you!”

“I know you aren’t some helpless maiden so why didn’t you just–!” His voice breaks, those beautiful turquoise eyes of his almost shaking with emotion. 

Seeing him distraught, actually distraught, sends some kind of ache through your heart. If you had known that he’d react like this, you wouldn’t have let it get to the point of needing All Might. 

You reach for him, he lets you, pulling him into a loose embrace. He stiffens for just a moment, but quickly relaxes in your hold, almost curling in. You can hear his heartbeat, thumping against his ribs. Softly, you can only coo, “Hey, I’m fine, see?”

He isn’t the young boy at the bottom of the lake anymore, the young boy you held in your arms as you hacked your lungs out. He’s 21 now, and you’re just the family friend. This concern was merely born out of the inherent helplessness he must have felt, knowing that he could have done something but might have been too late. 

He’s just comforting himself, reassuring himself that you’re alive and that he wasn’t too late. 

He doesn’t rebuke your touch. You wonder whether he’s always been so warm. 

Touya murmurs, quiet and hushed, “Don’t do that ever again.” 

“Just do whatever you want, I’ll pay the fines.”

“I won’t, I promise,” You whisper back. 

The two of you remain like that until you hear his heartbeat and breathing steady, unremitting and constant. When you pull away, his brows knit together for a trice before he returns to his placid visage. 

“I’m going to go back, don’t get yourself hurt alright?” You smile, your hand finding his to rub your thumb over his knuckles. “It wouldn’t just be Dr. Onizuka who’ll be mad at you if you do.”

“Yeah,” He huffs in amusement, perhaps even irony. He smiles easier, he says nothing about your hand.

“You too.”

At this, Zenko makes her very timely appearance with an almost dramatic swing of the door. The shorter woman glances at him with a pointed look before she turns her attention to you. 

“Oh uh, thanks for getting off brand Edward Scissorhands off of me,” You send the pro-hero a strained smile and a little bow, putting your hand up to excuse yourself before preparing to scurry off. 

Touya only raises his brow, “Who?”

Zenko doesn’t seem as confused, her hand raising along with yours yet her eyes told a different story, widening ever so slightly in recognition. Still, you make your way out before your ears pick up on something from inside. You really shouldn’t eavesdrop but you couldn’t help it.

“I see.” Zenko almost muses deep in thought. 

“Didn’t think your type was older women, you should’ve just said that.”

He hisses back, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Ouch, still a weird question to ask though. Besides, this Zenko must be on something. How would Touya’s type even be older women? He already had dozens of borderline rabid fans. If he just tries a little harder, he could have anyone. Admittedly, this person would have to look past some stuff, but he’s still a far cry from those micharacterisations!

She doesn’t answer that, merely throwing work onto him, “Oh yeah, remember to watch the footage the police collected.”

“You’ll enjoy it,” She remarks, then as though catching herself, clarifies, “I think.”

“Actually, maybe don’t.”

A few moments of silence passes in there, and you wonder how much of it is because he’s judging her. Then, she speaks again. 

Her voice bears a tinge of annoyance, “And don’t let your dad know, I don’t want that old man on my back again.”

What does Endeavour even have to do with this?

[!Side Quest Complete: Love under Fire!]

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Hiroomi is, you mean this as kindly as possible, kind of a clueless idiot when it comes to what updating means. While one would think update means messaging someone the moment they can, his idea of ‘update’ means a day before the actual event. And only emails you like some kind of lunatic, that and the maximum two sentence messages.

One then might be wondering what exactly is this event that has you so irked on your brother’s wonderful habit? 

It's an important charity gala (you’d be more amazed if he was actually donating it) that you had to attend to prove that you weren’t dead. Which was apparently a thing that you did every so often. It wasn’t like the system told you anything about that, nor did any quests pop up so you’d have to take his word for it. 

Around five in the afternoon (which by the way he didn’t even tell you when they’d pick you up, that and you’d be picked up in the first place), you were very rudely interrupted from your mid-afternoon nap by Hiroomi hovering above with no explanation just telling you that you had to go, making you very much regret moving towards the base of the mountain.

Probably helpful to add that you were in your bedroom. 

Which is why you were now standing on some pedestal stage… thing, in nothing but the innermost hadajuban and nagajuban. A tying cord and datejime is tightly wrapped around you, and you’re already a bit scared for what’s next. The room is at the very least, heated and you’ve been waiting for quite a while since you’ve been brought here. There is a vanity near you, though no makeup was present on the counter, rather a variety of kanzashi and pins.

When your brother returns, he’s quick to slip the dark houmongi onto your shoulders, a beautiful piece of clothing with minute flowers around a large river-like icon wrapping from the back. He wastes no time with getting everything on as he swiftly ties more fastening cord and the obi-ita. 

With your arms raised, you ask, “Are you finally going to wear something that’s not a suit?”

“Ha ha ha, very funny,” Hiroomi snarks, hands occupied with tucking the obi into something tidier. Again, it's another practised action, barely having to look as he already reaches for the obi-jime. “No.”

“White man,” Huffing, you can only lament the situation you just had to be in. 

At that, he suddenly pulls the knot tight, knocking the breath out of your lungs. An unintelligible noise leaves your throat, some unholy combination of a wheeze and a groan. Snapping your head towards him, your mouth hangs agape as you imagine exploding him with your mind. 

With a shit-eating grin, he doesn’t even bother to loosen the tight knot. “Don’t talk shit to the person tying your obi next time.”

“You going to pull out my hair later too?”

“If you call me a white man, yes.”

Still, the elder ryu finishes without any further delay and rushes you to the vanity. Once more, you really should start asking yourself why he’s so good at this, this went beyond knowing how to do your sister’s hair, this was the whole damn package! This man was better at hiding bobby pins than you! Before you knew it, Hiroomi had all but finished his work, at least until he held out a fabric mask.

“Make your horns longer.”

Raising a brow, you throw him a look. “What?”

“We’ve gone through this, you need to make your horns longer so at least there’s some deniability,” Voice deadpan, he only hooks his fingers between the straps. 

“How long? Is– is that a fucking ruler?”

He actually pulls out a ruler and holds it up to your horns, making you partially shift the top of your head to extend the core beyond your usual stubby shoots. Then, he drapes the veil onto your horns, thin straps hanging off your horns as you were now fully encased from the outside world. You have to rely on him to offer his hand just to stand up, careful to not step on your kimono or shift the obi-jime.  

“Are you sure no one will know who I am?” Turning to where you think he is, your voice bears some tinge of uncertainty.

His voice comes from ahead of you, farther from the vanity but not out of reach, “No one’s going to see your face, barely anyone will hear your voice, the kimono has been made to hide your proportions entirely, you had a manic episode and cut bangs again, what is there to be worried about?”

Then, it takes on that quality you’re just so familiar with. Exhausted with that lining of disappointment. 

“Are you worried someone is going to mention the–” 

“Yes I’m worried someone will realise I’m the idiot who got held hostage and flirted with All Might.”

“I screened everyone before sending invites,” He sighs, returning to your side as his hands hover around your head, fingers ghosting along the edges of the veil. “If someone even mentions it later, we can take down any kind of communication and sort them out.”

‘Sort them out’. When rich people say that, it either means suing them in court, sending a cease and desist or the more questionable option, crime. You’ll admit, you don’t know which one he’s referring to. 

Tentatively, you find your lodged voice, “Have you– done this before?”

Hiroomi attaches something to the ends, weighing it down. As though commenting about the weather, he hums, “When you were thirteen, someone saw your face in the lady’s stall and wouldn’t stop blabbing about it. Do you know where she is now?”

“No…?” You raise your brow, no matter if he can't see it.

“Exactly.”

You still don’t know which one it is. You’re too scared to want to know. 

Flipping up the veil, he’s adjusting the handkerchief in his pocket, in a matching colour and design as your houmongi. Hiroomi takes one last look at himself in the mirror. 

It feels odd to not have to do anything, if you had to be honest. You thought you’d have to do more but you’ve basically been all dressed up without having to lift a finger. Do you know how many women would kill for a man to perfectly prepare everything like he does? It's a wonder he’s not married, must be the emotional constipation. 

“Is there anything you want me to do?” You mutter, eyes on your clasped hands.

“I admit, I feel bad for you even having to do this in the first place,” He huffs wryly, handing you a bag and placing your phone in it, even going so far to show you everything inside. Hand sanitiser, a pack of tissues, some candies and sanitary products. You’re starting to feel like you’re in those dress up games. 

Your hand flips down the veil, continuing to listen to his almost humourless mirth. “But since we can’t risk anyone finding out your actual identity, you’ll just have to follow me around for a bit, and you can leave after about half an hour after my speech.” 

He wraps your arm around his, and takes slow steps as you enter the hallway. You can feel a dozen eyes following you, tracking your every movement and step. The older man continues, “A private car will take you back.”

“If someone gives you flack when I’m not around, you have full permission to do whatever you want.”

With a wondrous cant, your head snaps to his direction. “You’re telling me I can kill someone?” 

“Maim yes, kill no,” He clarifies, then mutters something to someone nearby.

“That was a joke.”

You hear the cloth of his suit jacket shift, your hand moving to his hand to pinch it which elicits a pitchy yelp from him. 

Well, he wasn’t lying when he said he felt bad, because you’d feel bad for yourself too. For about an entire hour, you just stood next to him as he talked with ‘insert surname’ this and ‘insert hero name’ that. Occasionally, you’d tip your head when you heard clothes shift in that way or felt a light breeze from the action, but it was ultimately not something very enjoyable, especially when you couldn’t even see who was in front of you. 

As you think about your warm duvet and hours of browsing anonymously written atrocities representative of a human’s inner most desires (someone had been writing fanfiction of pro-heroes and you were quite tickled finding an All Might x Endeavour long form), you hear some footsteps approach and you tip your head in greeting. Yet you don’t immediately return to your rather insightful fantasising, your ears pick up on a familiar set of steps, the rhythm and pace all too close to your own knowledge. 

Though you can’t see (you curse that fact now more than ever), your head still raises to try and figure out whether it truly is who your heart believes it to be. 

“Zenko, it is a pleasure to have your appearance,” Hiroomi’s tone is even, stolid without a hint of inflection or waver. You can feel him tip his head as well, clearly more indicative of his lack of stake with the pro-hero. “We sincerely hope you and your sidekick will enjoy tonight’s festivities.”

“You’ve been saying that for the longest time, but you and I both know nothing’s going to happen,” She merely laughs off, and though you can’t see her face, some part of you tells you she might not have the most polite expression on.

“Well, if you would like to be escorted out by security later, by all means, you can do as you please.”

“Hilarious, this is why the only women who’ll talk to you are your mother and sister.”

Your finger reaches for your brother’s arm, poking it incessantly until he relents and flips his palm over for you to write. You hastily scrawl out the words for sidekick and a question mark, and when you offer your palm, he writes out the kanji for ‘ignited’ and ‘arrow’. Your chest tightens for a moment, but before you can continue asking, two sets of footsteps come ever closer. 

Tipping your head, you follow along his lead. “Mr and Mrs. Sato, a pleasure to have you two here showing your support once more.”

At that, you’ve gone back to your duvet. The things you’d do for a warm night in are starting to pile up in your head, flooding the venue, slipping out when no one was looking to drive back, maybe you’d fake an attack. The nattering voice of whoever these Sato people were popped into your consciousness every so often, pitchy and spilling with desperation. Mentally, you thank the mask for even existing in the first place, better to never have to put a face to the names. 

The rest of the greetings go by about the same, and there’s barely any difference during your brother’s speech. All you had to do was, again be accompanied to your seat, which you assume is near the podium and away from the others based on how loud the microphone was, sit and say nothing. You clap when others clap, tip your head when you’re acknowledged, and do literally nothing else. He talks about aiding those much less fortunate through the means of the charity and encouraging those attending to use their advantages for good, usual rich people things where they just say vaguely nice sounding sentences for journalists to copy paste into their works. Again, you have to clarify that you would like to think that your brother is in fact a nice person who sticks to his words, but you kinda doubt it. 

Eventually, even that ends and you count down the minutes leading to your eventual departure. Though your mind is still preoccupied with that anonymous author’s deranged writings, you find that there’s another matter that has been slowly taking over, or rather person. 

Hiroomi wrote the kanji for ‘ignited arrow’, didn’t he? 

Was he here? Did Zenko really bring her fucking sidekick, who’s already gone through ten million of these courtesy of his dad, to some snobby gala? Usually pro-heroes bring their spouse, or their children, or they just don’t bring a plus one! 

As you sit on that damned chair waiting for something to maybe happen, though you doubt it, you hear someone pull up a chair next to you. Your ears pick up on that breathing pattern, and when your hand reaches out, you’re greeted with scarred skin, the pads of your fingers feeling across the edge of his jaw.

“Touya?” Tentatively, you mutter beneath your breath.

A hand presses atop yours, the warmth radiating off of it greedily absorbed into your own. He gingerly removes your hand and places them atop your lap to join the other, he doesn’t take it back, uncharacteristically keeping the two together. 

Touya grins, you’re sure he is, clearly amused by your complete disadvantage, “You choose to be escorted everywhere like a doll or do you have to wear that thing?”

“If this was a choice, I wouldn’t be wearing any of this at all,” You remark, sardonic lilt tinged from the matching grimace on your face.

“Woah, at least take me out for dinner.” His voice plays at an attempt at suave composure, perhaps if you were a lesser person you’d believe it. But the clearly joking tone tells you more than enough. 

Your other hand raises to deal a light smack. “Come on, you’re too young for that.”

“You’re right, I’ll take you out.”

The attempt at flirting, if you could even call it that, was about as bad as you thought it’d be. It sounds like something you’d say when you ran out of things to say. Yet though your entire visage has twisted to reflect your wince, your heart still threatens to escape your rib’s confines. It must be the secondhand embarrassment. 

With a deadpan tone, you murmur as he leans in closer to hear you, “You can’t see my face right now but I’m cringing.”

“That usually works,” He mutters in your ears, still playful. 

“On the roach that always ends up in the bathroom that has to be taken out by Fuyumi when it starts flying?”

“You can’t see my face but I’m scowling at you right now.”

You think you can hear a bit of a pout, and despite his words, you let out a small breath of mirth. The two of you remain there, talking in hushed tones and murmured whispers as he points out people for you to eavesdrop on, describing what they look like as you mimic overexaggerated versions of their conversations. Not at all ethical, but who was going to stop you? 

Not once does his hand leave your lap, rough fingers playing with your pinky. 

At the back of your mind, you’ve forgotten how much time has passed, content with soft amusement and the constant companionship. 

As Touya shields your face from view so you can drink, you hear a couple approaching, pitchy and buzzing in your ears. Still, you keep drinking and pointedly try to will away the idea of even considering why they kept talking about you. 

Alas, the system hates you. 

A man’s voice reaches you, you think he’s still standing as the sound comes from above you, rather too fulsome for your liking, “Ms. Yoshikawa, it's a pleasure to see you in good health.”

“Yes, truly. It seems you only glow as you get older,” A woman’s voice follows up, equally buttery and far better at hiding whatever insincere intentions she and her husband clearly share.

“Oh darling, your brother certainly spoils you too much. You look absolutely winsome.”

With a tap on his leg, you discretely wave him off. Touya obliges, excusing himself as you are now left alone with the couple. The Sato’s, you think? It doesn’t matter, something tells you that you won’t enjoy this. 

What even was the point of approaching you? It's a clear fact that you hold no sway on the company’s dealings, let alone Hiroomi’s! They’d be better off trying to butter up the security guards than you! ‘Winsome’ your ass, they couldn’t even see your face!

Stilling your shoulders, you keep looking ahead of you, refusing to break the adroit posture you’ve adopted. They seemingly take your silence, your only option, as an invitation to sit, the sounds of a chair shifting on the carpeted floors as they sit somewhere at the table. You only hope they haven’t sat where Touya was. 

Mrs. Sato leans in towards you, her voice taking on a lower, faux-sympathy, “Was that Todoroki boy bothering you, dear? You mustn't let just anyone talk to you so casually.”

“If that boy’s father wasn’t Endeavour, I doubt anyone would take his attitude.”

“So unruly, that Zenko only makes him worse.”

“And while I do understand that Zenko is in the top 10, surely she should have some humility for someone ranking so low.” The man mithers, the sound of a glass leaving the table reaching your ears as he does so. 

Your eye twitches, what was it with rich people acting like stereotypical drama evil mother-in-laws? At least your brother used his bitchiness for good, these people were just shit-talking people way more competent than them! How dare they even consider Touya anything beyond an upstanding, highly-skilled hero? He isn’t confident for no reason! If anything, his confidence is a reflection of the pure skill and mastery he held over his abilities! Would they be able to knock out a hostage taker without even burning the hostage? You doubted it! These people couldn’t even do a fraction of what he does! When they could earn the recognition of even stick-up-the-ass Endeavour purely based on sheer proficiency, then they could talk!

Pretending to be nonchalant was like pretending you were stupid at this point. It felt like your bones were rattling in your skin, shaking and yearning to be free from your mortal shell. The scales on your legs rush upwards, blood rushing through your veins as you swallow thickly. Just thinking about Touya possibly catching any part of this forced thicker nails to extend. 

“What was your brother thinking of inviting them?” Mr Sato laments, probably twisting his cartoonishly shaped moustache while he’s at it. “He must be so stressed from having to manage an entire enterprise on his own, there’s no other reason.”

“Not to brag, but my husband and I are known to be quite the advisors. There’s no one else better than us when it comes to counsel,” His wife places a hand on your shoulder, and it takes everything inside of you to not slap it away. 

Their laugh is almost a cackle, no matter that it sounded ridiculous, it still set your hair on its ends, “At the very least, he wouldn’t be inviting callous halfwits like them.”

Without a second thought, a cloud of hefty rain gathers above their heads, pelting leaden droplets as the crackle of lightning brews within the dark nimbus. You almost rise from your seat, arms itching to reach out just to grab something, to dig your claws into skin and draw unrighteous blood. Rushing down, you could vaguely hear some heavy footsteps approaching the couple and the scandalised gasps, ignorant couple and not. 

And it seems that your brother’s words were right, you could maim someone unprompted and get away with it (not like you were going to), because not a second later, all you can hear is shuffling fabric and the very, very enraged and whiny screeching. The thundering rain doesn’t stop, hissing lightning and roaring rain continuing to follow them even as they scream and shout.

“How dare you! Don’t think just because your brother is important means you’ll get away with this!”

In your mind, one of them was attempting to shove their finger in your face but failing miserably. “Get your hands off of us! I’ll sue you! You hear me! We’ll sue you! You’ll be hearing from our lawyers!”

In the midst of all the commotion, a figure has approached you from behind, once again belonging to the person with that familiar heartbeat. Your hand reaches out again, but instead of his face, he has taken your hand into his, helping you up as your shoes squelch into the drenched carpet. 

Someone else steps forwards, then bows. Their voice is soft for discretion’s sake but not mousey, coming from somewhere ahead of you. 

“Ms. Yoshikawa, the car has been prepared.”

You’re still holding onto Touya’s hand, relying entirely on his presence just to walk. A soft breath escapes him, an odd mixture of confusion and something else you can’t place your finger on. You don’t trust that Zenko to manage the cultivated jeering with her attitude. And you sure as hell don’t trust the rest of the old geezer stakeholders or whatever bullshit people were going to snide their grubby little faces at him.

Your finger reaches to tap his arm, and he only leans towards you. “Hm?”

Getting on your tiptoes, you whisper to his ear, only separated by the mask’s layer, careful to keep your voice as low as possible, “Do you want to get out of here?”

“Yeah, party’s boring anyways,” He squeezes your hand, voice lilting with ebullient levity. 

The walk to the car is admittedly, a lot quieter than you thought it’d be. And it seems that security has been told to listen to you, as no one questions why you were being guided by someone else who is very clearly not Hiroomi. You’re led to a dark car park, insisting on blindly feeling around for the car handle only to almost knock your horns into the car’s top. When you do finally get in, you hear a soft ‘oof’ and then the click of the car door.

Fumbling with the veil’s straps, you just manage to slip it off your horns as they return to their usual state. Your eyes take a while to adjust again, both half blind from not having your glasses and squinting from the bright lighting. You pick off the multiple kanzashi in your hair, haphazardly shoving them into your bag as you rush to undo your hair. A sigh of relief escapes you, and when you turn your head, you find Touya’s eyes focused on you, wide and borderline entranced. 

Now able to see him, you have to stop yourself from gasping. You’ve seen him dressed formally before, but certainly this felt different. Unlike traditional mens’ wear, he had on a dark dress shirt and a white suit, hand halfway unbuttoning the top few buttons as he had already likely shed his tie. 

Before you could say anything, you have to avert your gaze lest you say something stupid and the chauffeur takes off, the car revving up as the GPS starts the fastest possible route to your home. 

“Thank you, for helping me,” You manage a smile, weakly meeting his eyes through the window’s reflection. 

The young man only waves you off, and for a moment, there’s nothing that fills the car. It leaves you with the silence to reflect on your actions, but mostly on the palatable rage that sat heavy on your tongue when you heard those baseless discredits. While you could possibly write it off as general concern for the younger generation, you tried to think as to what you would do if they said that to Fuyumi, Natsuo or even Shouto, and could only only think of calling security to take them away. 

Why did you do that? Why did your hands yearn to grab them by their stringy hair just to smash it into that glass they kept drinking out of? Why did you wish he heard none of it? 

What was this ugly thing that sits heavy in your chest?

Your fist balls up in your lap as you tentatively ask, “Did you… hear any of that?”

“A little,” He breathes, eyes facing the ever changing landscape but he quickly returns to you. Within those turquoise orbs was that gleam again, the same shine from that river. “It looked creepy, y’know? You just staring at them talk shit, then causing a literal storm.”

A terse exhale rushes through your chest, bottom lip catching between your teeth. You look away from him, not too sure what to say in response. Still, he continues. 

“It's the first time someone did something like that for me.”

Spine shooting straight, you turn towards his humourless grin with an appalled slack of your features. “You’re great, why wouldn’t I?” 

“You’re way more successful than most heroes at your age, so what even gives people like them the right to say all that? Being lawless and confident are two different things, but clearly they think it's the same since they’re the unruly ones!”

“I’d be stupid to just sit there and watch you be slandered,” 

You realise now that your outburst may have been a bit much for someone who has seemingly heard it all before. Turning your head away, you pointedly ignore the hot flush of your face. Why did you even say all that? Your voice lodges in your throat, only quite able to mutter. 

“I’ll tell the driver to drop you off back home.”

“Wait,” Touya scrambles to stop you, hand outstretched yet quickly retracted when he seems to realise something. With an almost shy lining to his voice, he meets your gaze, “Could I crash at your place? I… don’t really feel like going back there tonight.”

Taking his hand into yours, you place your other hand atop his. His eyes widen as a fond quirk tugs at your lips, softly, you can only hum, “Alright.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The power of money and connections is surely scary if you weren’t the one with exactly those two things. Those Sato’s, whoever they were, were thoroughly dragged through the mud when news came out about their supposed comments towards many well-beloved pro-heroes. Though certainly not all of them were what was told to you (you  most definitely do not remember them saying that All Might was an overly mutinous attention seeker with a penchant for property destruction), Hiroomi has handled so wonderfully that everyone was more focused on the embezzlement they’ve been allegedly committing rather than the fact that people most definitely saw you leaving the hall with Touya in tow. 

Other than that, you still haven’t received any other notification from the system besides the one stupid objective you still have no idea about. 

‘Always with Me’

For the past four years, there has been no detail on how to complete it, what it's about or even your progress on it. Everytime you ask, the system merely pings with a, 

[User is in the middle of Objective: Always with Me]

Which is very helpful, thank you very much. 

Beyond that, you’ve kinda given up on the system and with no other objectives or even side quests in sight, you’ve resigned yourself to your peaceful life. After all, you’ve managed to convince the entire household that you wouldn’t be staying over during the breaks with Shouto’s induction into high school, which again you’re impressed that he still wanted to be a hero, so you suppose the plot didn’t get that messed up. 

Regardless, that was not the point. With your residence’s move, you’ve now been the host to many a Todoroki family member. At first, it was just Touya, who, since that night, would crash at your place almost every week when he didn’t particularly feel like going back nor returning to his apartment. Then it was eventually Fuyumi who’d drop by to visit, and before you knew it, you’ve hosted sukiyaki night in your place for some god knows reason beyond the system hates you. 

With winter rolling around, you find the eldest knocking on your door a lot more often. You’ve started keeping spare clothes in the guest room, extra shampoo, soap, toothbrush and toothpaste, in response. Sometimes you’ll even find jackets or sweatshirts left behind. You always wash them when you do, folding them up to be brought back after his next visit.

You’re not sure why he’s started doing so, but you’re happy your place can at least be some kind of refuge. 

It’s weird, you find. At every turn, there’s some part of him left behind. Spare support equipment placed by the door in a basket, his tie from last week’s gala, the mug on the drying rack that constantly smells like bitter coffee, a tupperware of leftovers from the night before from when he helped you (he cut the onions and watched you do everything else like a hawk). It's weird, you don’t hate the lingering presence. 

Tonight, your doorbell rings around ten, and you don’t even have to look through the peephole to check. Not bothering to throw anything above your pyjamas, you open the door to Touya. The night wind howls, rattling the few branches against your windows, and yet he remains without even a scarf. He remains outside, head slightly bowed and expression unreadable. 

You muse, your eyes softening when you notice the languid weariness in his form, “Get in before you freeze to death out there.”

With a slight shift, he obliges, knocking off his shoes before promptly collapsing on your couch. By the time you return, he’s already grabbed a pillow of yours to throw over his head, pointedly taking in a deep huff as the light from your television illuminates the dark room. You’d been watching some slice of life romantic comedy set in a modern setting, with just an episode left until the big confession. It was a remarkably interesting sight, you could only think to yourself, with over-the-top sound effects, cheesy music and cutesy lighting, Touya almost looked like he was being held captive to watch something as simple as a romcom. 

Heading to the kitchen, you pour out a warm cup of water and place it in front of him on the table. Your spot on the couch is untouched, still a bit warm with a slight indent. You can feel some part of his natural warmth, yet you curl into yourself, bringing your knees to your chest as you bring your once abandoned blanket tighter around you. He still hasn’t touched his cup, but the pillow he used to try and blind himself is now pressed against his stomach. There is something uncharacteristic about him today, his jaw set and a vapid look in his eyes. That and the foot tapping against your wooden floors. 

With a soft breath, you glance over at him, “Is there something wrong?”

“Why do you think there’s something wrong?” He remarks, quick to respond.

“You’re tapping your foot.” The moment you mention that, he stops. With a mock eye roll, you murmur, “Also you don’t come by so late unless there’s something wrong.

“Just couldn’t sleep.”

At that, you don’t push anymore. It wouldn't be the first time. He’d come over in the late hours and the two of you would just sit on the couch watching whatever show was on prior to his arrival. Sometimes he’d watch you make a pot of instant noodles, or offer to warm up your hands when it got cold. You could tell there was something up on those days, but it was always the same excuse, his gaze often alternating between glancing at the screen or staring off in your direction.

Still, your eyes pointedly look at the cup and he takes a long sip just to appease you. Raising a brow, you meet his gaze with a piqued quirk of your lips. Your eyes shift back to your show, absentmindedly patting your hand along with the catchy intro song. The scenes shift and it returns to the two main leads, having accidentally found themselves in co-inhabitation and are now sitting outside their patio. 

The music swells again as the soft harp strums, soft moonlight shining upon them and reflecting a blue-ish hue onto his visage. You thought he wasn’t watching, but his eyes remain on the screen, following along every small movement. The main lead, glances over at their partner, and blurts out their confession. So unlike the original notion for a well thought out, heart-felt confession, it mattered little. The music continues. 

Out of the blue, he jeers, lip slightly curled, “Do people really watch stuff like this?”

“I’m watching it,” You hum.

As the outro theme starts playing, you mindlessly move onto the next episode. “Besides, it's cute. They’re just living their lives and finding love while they’re at it.”

“Sounds boring.”

“That’s how love is, you don’t just have a big epiphany and an even bigger confession.”

The next episode plays, and there’s still this complicated look on his face. You can tell he doesn’t quite believe you, and a yet small breath of amusement escapes you. A sponsored ad pops up, Best Jeanist flashing across your screen in, you guessed it, jeans. An odd thought passes through your head as it shifts to pricing. 

“One day, I’m going to find out you’re casted for a show like this one, then you’ll see,” Your voice comes off as sing-songedly despite the lowered volume, there’s an amused smile on your lips. 

Touya replies simply, a doubtful grin on his face as he glances at you, “You’re awfully confident that it’ll happen.”

“When you have the kind of looks you do, it's bound to happen.”

“And what kind of looks do I have?” With a raised brow, his voice lowers. And if you hadn’t known him for as long as you do, you wouldn’t have caught the way his smirk faltered. 

You meet his gaze, and once again, you truly wonder how Rei’s genetics can be so strong. Touya was, is, the prettiest man you’ve seen in your decade of living. You’ve said it so many times but it still never fails to surprise you. Even with your system assigned debuff (myopia), you still admired him. Long lashes that curtained the most beautiful turquoise eyes, eyes that betray his emotions, bright and so, so full of life. He had the kind of features that just melded well, already flawless on their own but even more so together despite the brusque additions. His natural resting face was pretty as well, and even when he sneered or made those ugly faces, he was still pretty. 

And when he started carrying himself with that confidence, this assertiveness that you could not possibly describe as anything beyond engaging, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. It felt impossible to you, to even fathom the idea of not looking at him, beholding him. 

You wonder when you started doing that, when you started looking at him like he was the only person in the world. 

A huff escapes you as a blithe smile pulls at your lips, “You’re arguably the prettiest person I’ve ever seen, surely someone’s told you that.”

In your mental spiel, you noticed that you’re now thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder. He only huffs in response, the corner of his lip quirking ever upward. He’s warm. 

“Not the most handsome?”

“Sure, that too.”

The scene starts, and it's still the main couple sitting on the patio. The confession repeats. He isn’t watching the screen anymore. Bathed in the cool lighting, you meet his eyes. They’re all but seeping with warmth, and you realise you’re scared of what it means. 

“I’m in love with you.” He blurts out, voice so soft it was as if he didn’t want you to hear it in the first place. “I don’t know for how long but it's definitely been for a while. It's– the rest of them teased me about it, but I never– I didn’t know how to tell you.”

You blink. He’s looking at you with that guileless hope again, the same glimmer that buckles your knees and convinces you of anything and everything. 

This must be a dream, just a dream where the Todoroki Touya is confessing his love for you. Soon, you’ll wake up and get ready for the day and you’ll get to watch the last few episodes of your show. 

You pinch your arm, and when nothing happens, your eye twitches and fingers tense. 

‘System, what the fuck is going on?’

[User has changed the plot (/▿＼ )]

‘I am very aware of that, I just didn’t think I’D INFLICT AN OEDIPUS COMPLEX ONTO HIM.’

[User has changed the plot (눈_눈)]

This must be some kind of sick joke, in no absolute way could this be happening to you. This couldn’t be happening. This came too out of the blue! There weren't any warning signs! There’s nothing about you that could possibly even connote this! 

Were you not taking the motherly route? Weren’t you being a good role model for the younger generation?

[User is technically in the same generation (＾＾＃)]

‘That’s what you think!’

You haven’t looked away since, still struck with consternation so powerful it rendered you incapable of doing little else than blinking. Your voice lodges in your throat and all you can muster is a breathless noise. This really couldn’t be happening to you, anyone but you. You’re too old, this isn’t love, it isn’t love on his end. 

“I’m five years older than you, I basically watched you grow up. Don’t you find that weird?” Weakly proposing, your words are shaky and your voice even more so despite your attempt to keep it steady. You’ve done this before, made the big speeches when your heart wanted nothing but to run out of your ribs, did it to Endeavour of all people! So why was it that you couldn’t find that voice now? 

He draws in a sharp, choked breath, “You say you watched me grow up as if you’re some old timer, you’re not that old, y’know?”

“You realise that mom and– the old man, only listened to you and took so much pity on you at first because they thought you were some random teen with no one?” Touya doesn’t give you a chance to butt in, he knows, of course he knows how’d you react.

“That’s why mom kept trying to include you in everything, she kept worrying that you were going home to an empty place with no family.”

You were eighteen. You don’t even think Japan counted eighteen as a teenager anymore.    

You should’ve pulled away, you shouldn’t have let yourself get as attached as you are now. If you had just been a little bit smarter, used your brain rather than let yourself get carried away, he– you– wouldn’t be here. 

“I was still eighteen and though we technically only really met when you were sixteen, does it really matter if you were mentally thirteen? Not only that, but I’ve been meddling with your family for all that time. If someone accused me of grooming you, do you think I’d have any proof against it?”  You breathe deeply, trying to gather what little composure you had left.

“Everything lines up too well. Wouldn’t it be too coincidental? Some rando saves a thirteen year old and ten years later, they’re dating.”

You do love him, you just can’t accept the circumstances that could have possibly birthed that love. 

Shaking your head, you cover your face with your hands, “It’s not that I don’t, I do— I really do. But there’s too much between us.”

Perhaps that was your biggest shame, your most repugnant disrepute to your already crumbling facade. It never started this way, you don’t know when your own affection for him turned into this, you just remember waking up and seeing him in your kitchen, hunched over a cup of tea while his own coffee grew cold, thinking to yourself that you liked this. You liked seeing him content, liked seeing him comfortable in his own skin and place in this world. You wanted to keep that sight, that idea of him forever.

But if there was anything that has remained from that canon timeline, a feature that remains ubiquitous, it was that Touya wasn’t some idiot, never has been, and he knows more intimately than anyone what your hesitation looks like.

“Don’t I get a say in this?” He retorts, and you look at him, startled. “I get what you’re saying but do you know what you did? You literally– and I still don’t know how, forced my family to heal. You kept giving me all these opportunities, even when no one else seemed to understand, you didn’t try to isolate me or control me!”

“The rest of them told me everything when I woke up, they told me everything you did for us. He told me too, said you helped him realise.”

“You didn’t even know me, all you had were bits of my childhood but you still went and changed everything,” Running a hand through his hair, he laughs with a sardonic bite, and yet still that look in his eyes wrenches something inside you.

Touya continues, a wry grin on his face, “And fuck– it always felt like some bad game trying to even be in the same room with you alone back then!”

“I could barely even think when I saw you in the kitchen that one summer! Do you know how sick I felt when I went back to my room after that day?”

Your brain flashes to that summer day, stretching from fatigue and sweating from heat, now trying to not think too hard about every time he’d come too close. 

“It took all of them so long, but you didn’t.” He admits quietly, and for once he’s not looking at you. Yet that is only for a moment, and that glimmer, that shine in those eyes you want so desperately to protect, flares into a radiant gleam. There’s the slightest sheen pooling at his waterline, his voice so soft you’re scared, “So I don’t care if some brainless nobody thinks you’ve manipulated me, because you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to all of us.”

You want to hold him, your hands want to reach out to wipe away the hint of tears from his face. You don’t stop yourself, shifting closer as you thumb away warm dew from his lashes. He blinks, almost confused at your sudden contact, but quickly realises your intentions. 

You manage to choke out, “When I was in the hospital, I had a dream about what would’ve happened if I just let the situation fester.”

“I didn’t want that to happen to you,” With a trembling sigh bordering a sob, you force yourself to continue, “You deserved to be happy with a family who loves you.”

“So that’s why I did everything that I did. Because I promised myself to make everything better for you when you woke up.”

His eyes widen, brows raised high as you indirectly confess to your knowledge of that long gone dream. 

“After you woke up, I thought my role in your lives was over, yet here we are,” A small humourless laugh escapes your lips, your eyes unwaveringly meeting his. 

It was stupid, god it's always been so stupid to be attached to fictional characters. Yet perhaps attachment is not the best word to describe what you felt. Attachment would deride some form of obsession, but what you felt, what you desired was only his happiness and peace. 

Was it still not a kind of love? Inherently, to love meant to choose, and did you not do that? Learned everything you could, collected everything you could, were these actions not one you made out of your own conscience?

 Did you dive into fiery hell to save him in the hopes of being paid back? Did you jumpstart the Todoroki Family’s recovery for some vain desire? Did you remain so active in their lives just for a chance for compensation? 

You didn’t, because making those choices came to you as natural as the choice to live. And in the process of choosing, loving, you ended up here.

You have always loved him, from the vapid admiration and heartache from behind the screen, to the desperation to save that lost boy by the river and to create a better world for him, to the quiet contentment with his presence. It is one that has evolved with your ever enclosing distance, one that has somehow remained simple and honest. 

And in an odd way, your choice to love unconditionally has brought you back to the person who started it all. 

You have no doubt that even if you were faced with that version of him, you would have still loved him even if it killed you. 

“I have always loved you, Touya. Not always in the way you want, but I have always loved you.”

With one last shaky sigh, you finally speak, “For far longer than you have known.”

Just as the words leave your mouth, you’re wrapped into a tight embrace. His arms wrap around you and it's so tight you’d think you were close to dying. You can feel his heartbeat, and you’re certain he can feel yours too, a rhythmic constant thumping with that fervour for life. 

“You’re so stupid,” He murmurs, warm breath by your ears. “I never forgot our promise, so why didn’t you tell me?”

He’s warm, he’s so warm. You wouldn’t care if holding onto him set you ablaze. 

You are stupid. You are stupid for sleeping through your electric blanket cooking you alive, stupid for diving into flames just to save a child, stupid for letting literal children con you, stupid for flirting while being held hostage. 

You’re stupid for loving Todoroki Touya so much you’d create a better world for him. 

When you pull away, the miffed affection on his face, one still struggling to make itself completely known, pulls a shaky smile from your lips. You chuckle, “Because I am.”

[!Objective Complete: Always with Me!]

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Y’know, your boss is probably going to call me a cougar when I see her again.”

Having been manhandled to the point of laying on his arm, you sigh as a different romcom starts on the television screen. With every single little thing that could possibly be related spilled out, you let yourself accept the physical contact, a notion that Touya clearly has taken the mile with. Your hands were currently being occupied by his but with how much you’ve been struggling with the cold, you couldn’t care less.  

He huffs, clearly and genuinely not too bothered by the idea, “And? Who cares what she thinks?”

“We’re about the same age,” Quick to counter, Touya doesn’t seem all too bothered by the correlation you make. 

You still wonder how he has no reservations but you’ve long become accustomed to his stubbornness by now. His fingers intertwined yours, rough pads rubbing against the skin of your knuckles. He isn’t watching the show, seemingly more interested in memorising your hand by touch by the looks of it. 

Absent-mindedly, he suddenly brings up something you haven’t thought about in a long time. His voice is soft, a bit more delicate, “Your parents are gone, aren’t they?” 

Though it's been a while since you’ve actually thought about your parents, if you could really call them that, you've come to associate Hiroomi more with the idea of parental care after all these years. He certainly wasn’t the worst at it, and if your own associations and analysis were true, your parents did actually fuck right back off to heaven. 

Without blinking, you feel his hand grip onto yours tighter as you hum, “Mhm, they’re back to where we came from.”

“That’s an awfully nice way to say they’re dead, doll,” The corner of his lips tug up, a brazen look in those crystalline eyes. 

Your brow raises as you send him a side-long glance, “I'm doll now?”

“Like those ones with spirits in them, pretty but clearly possessed.”

“No wonder the cockroach just charges at you.”

You reach for your phone, the soft light of your wallpaper (a photo you’d taken during one sukiyaki night with only Fuyumi having noticed the camera) briefly illuminating your face as you pull up the tab detailing the Yoshikawa family history, more specifically the ‘conspiracy’ tab of the article. Warm fingers brush against your still cold hands to receive your offer. 

He doesn’t take long to make the connections nor the associated implications, and though you thought he’d question the plausibility, he doesn’t. Rather, he takes a long hard look at you then back at your phone, his brow raises as a doubtful grimace manifests on his face. 

“You sure you haven’t gone senile? No way that shit is real,” His voice all but seeps with disbelief, still wearing the expression with pride.

Rolling your eyes, you take your phone back. “Ha ha ha, and you just said I’m ‘not that old’.”

“If it wasn’t, how did we see each other after being sent to literal comas ten years ago?”

“True, but if all that really exists, then it’d be kinda shitty,” He only murmurs beneath his breath, eyes lowered on your hands as his lashes flutter.  

“It is but maybe we don’t need them,” The reassurance is instinctual, yet not so. You have no doubt that the sheer will and spite to live, the kindness and courage that only humanity seems capable of completely sets them apart from almighty fickle kami. With a slightly mirthful tone, your voice lilts, “Who knows? Maybe some god will curse your dad with forever burning himself whenever he touches a hot leather seat.”

“Now that’s romantic.”

Raising a brow, you throw him a side glance.“If you’re implying that I curse Endeavour, you’re going to be very disappointed to know I can’t do that.”

“Here I thought you were all powerful.” With a teasing lilt in his voice, he grins. “Some ryu you are.”

You kind of regret telling him about that now. 

“I’ll put a small rain cloud over him when we see him next,” With mock vexation, you bark back with a smile. 

He grins, “Now I can’t not love you.”

Though you smile, your eyes seek his as your fingers press into his hand. “Do you actually believe me though?”

“Your entire family can change into dragons and control the weather, I don’t think the existence of heaven is going to be any weirder.”

That pulls an actual huff of laughter, and with your phone forgotten, Touya all but puffs his chest in pride at this, a smug gleam in his eyes as your fingers finally reciprocate his hold. Another advertisement pops up, some All Might merchandise they probably just slapped his face on. It's so bright that your entire living room is bathed in warm yellow. His entire face scrunches at this, as though he’s eaten an entire lemon rather than seeing the star spangled wonder. 

At this, he grumbles, “Y’know, Zenko made me watch you say all those horrible pick-up lines at All Might.”

You have to fight the urge to cry, or at the very least to shove your face into your hands. “That was two years ago, can’t we just forget about it?”

“Nah, why does All Might get that but not me?” There’s a hint of a pout, one barely noticeable to anyone else.

“Because I’m not only going to see you once in my entire life,” Your response is curt, partly because you didn’t want to even look back to that moment, partly because you also have no idea.  

Still, he insists with an absolutely winning grin, “Come on, tell me one.”

With a heavy sigh, you wrack your brain trying to think of one. You couldn’t just tell him that you memorised those pick-up lines because they were horrible, more specifically that they weren’t even yours. It takes you more than a while to think of one and when you do, you already want to crawl into the ground when it actually leaves your mouth. 

“Are you a kotatsu? Because I wanna crawl underneath you and never get out.”

For all your efforts, you’re rewarded with a choked noise and an abrupt head turn away from you. The tips of his ears flush pink despite his valiant attempts at hiding away from you. Something inside you wants so desperately to see, something tells you that he’d be more than cute. 

“That was horrible.”

You muse incredulously, “Then why’re you looking away from me?”

You clamour to catch that sight while he only shifts away, still you don’t give up, going so far as to climb over him just so he wouldn’t hide from your gaze. It only takes a few more moments of wriggling before the both of you come to the realisation of your not so innocuous position, your chest pressed to his with nothing but a fingertip’s distance between you, a soft breath escapes as you meet his gaze, both your faces flushing hot. 

You were right, he is cute like this. With a subtle blush on his cheeks travelling all the way to his ears, and his slightly widened eyes, you wish you could take a photo of him right now. 

It's as though you’re locked, unable to move, yet you don’t quite mind. You blink still, unsure of what to do next. His eyes flutter down to your lips for a moment. Clearly one of you is much more ardent than the other, a larger hand cupping your face, until eventually your lips meet. By no means is it good, messy and with misplaced teeth clacking against the other, god knows you haven't even held hands before let alone kissed someone, but it's genuine, it's real and you want him to keep kissing you like this. His lips against yours, gentle and tentative and filled with the affection you never thought you’d ever have in your two lives. 

As the winter wind hums and rain gently pitter patters, there are only the two of you in this little world, one made just for you. 

The system pings one last time.

[!User 888 has completed all relevant objectives!]

[User 888 has unlocked: Chat function]

[There are currently: 5 users in My Hero Academia world 178]

[Would user like to start chat?]

[firstprince-ao3feed]

make me baby make me know you really care

by starmanfox Alex feels like he might lose his mind. What had started as a hot experiment requested by Henry was slowly driving him crazy. He might be exaggerating just a bit. But the thing is, they’ve been very frequently intimate since the beginning of their relationship. Even when they are apart, they easily find ways to fulfill their needs. So, when Henry brought up the idea of not doing anything for a week, Alex was caught off guard and didn’t know what to say. or, Alex and Henry try something new and Alex gets what he wants in the end. Words: 5295, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue (2023), Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Alex Claremont-Diaz, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Additional Tags: Top Alex Claremont-Diaz, Bottom Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Explicit Sexual Content, Sexual Experimentation, Accidental Voyeurism, pillow humping, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Riding via https://ift.tt/fd3Y5Ww

[ao3feed-jonmartin]

A Wedding

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/Pc8XGp0 by WonkyElk “Wait, wait … this isn’t the Gertrude Robinson, is it? Dr ‘Ice Cold in Oxford’?” “I strongly suggest you don’t address her as such at the wedding, but … yes. That would be the one.” Gertrude gets married, Jon and Martin are goofy for each other and Jurgen Leitner is also there. Words: 5295, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M, M/M Characters: Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood, Gertrude Robinson, Jurgen Leitner, Adelard Dekker Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Adelard Dekker/Gertrude Robinson, Jurgen Leitner/Gertrude Robinson Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Fluff and Angst, No fears AU, Established Relationship, Falling In Love, Dysfunctional Family, POV Alternating read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/Pc8XGp0

[ageless-soul-au]

FACTION - XI. ASHES

Rating: Mature

Category: M/M, Multi

Words: 5295/62,266

Chapter Summary:

His home and the core of his heart had all gone up in smoke.

Welcome to the last chapter we're uploading before Faction goes on hiatus! We hope you enjoy the pain.

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR MAINLINE ASAU, so read at your own risk. And shhhhhh, it's a secret to everyone!

Reblogs/comments/kudos much appreciated!!! Especially with the hiatus lol

[ao3feed-bnha-rarepair]

Freefall into Me

Freefall Into Me by Maxine

Bakugou is eighteen when he decides it's about time to deal with that whole dumb virginity thing.

He's twenty-three when Kaminari finds out about it.

It doesn't go the way he was expecting. But when does it ever?

Words: 5295, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Kaminari Denki, Sero Hanta, Kirishima Eijirou, Midoriya Izuku

Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Kaminari Denki

Additional Tags: Characters Are Pro Heroes, Oblivious Bakugou Katsuki, Bisexual Disaster Kaminari Denki, Past Baku/Sero, Bakusquad, Getting Together, Friends to Lovers, Friends to Idiots In Love

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45430018

[ao3feed-bakusquad]

Freefall into Me

Freefall Into Me by Maxine

Bakugou is eighteen when he decides it's about time to deal with that whole dumb virginity thing.

He's twenty-three when Kaminari finds out about it.

It doesn't go the way he was expecting. But when does it ever?

Words: 5295, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Kaminari Denki, Sero Hanta, Kirishima Eijirou, Midoriya Izuku

Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Kaminari Denki

Additional Tags: Characters Are Pro Heroes, Oblivious Bakugou Katsuki, Bisexual Disaster Kaminari Denki, Past Baku/Sero, Bakusquad, Getting Together, Friends to Lovers, Friends to Idiots In Love

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45430018

[ao3feed-irondadspiderson]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42068637

a little out of the ordinary by OnlyForward peter tries to jumpscare tony by appearing out of a storage room, pretending he’s left the compound with happy. unfortunately, the storage room he chooses to hide in locks him in and he gets stuck there. for hours. whumptober prompt #1: a little out of the ordinary Words: 5295, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 1 of whumptober 2022 Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, May Parker (Spider-Man), Happy Hogan, James "Rhodey" Rhodes Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Happy Hogan & James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark Additional Tags: Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Parent Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Tony Stark Coparenting Peter Parker, Worried May Parker (Spider-Man), the fic isn't in lowercase just the description lol, prank gone wrong

[ao3feed-jjk]

Dulcet Depravity

by BlueSpringPetals Words: 5295, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Manga), 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Anime) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M Characters: Gojo Satoru, Iori Utahime, Mei Mei (Jujutsu Kaisen), Ieiri Shoko, Nanami Kento, Haibara Yu (Jujutsu Kaisen) Relationships: Gojo Satoru/Iori Utahime Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Age Difference, Underage Sex, Teacher Gojo Satoru, Student Iori Utahime, Teacher-Student Relationship, Alpha Gojo Satoru, Omega Iori Utahime, Shameless Smut, Scent Marking, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Breeding, somewhat dubious consent, Nesting, Knotting, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Sex, Dry Humping, Masturbation, Gojo Satoru Has a Big Dick, Gojo tries to be a responsible adult via https://ift.tt/FCIophM

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

The Coming of the Season

by SalParadiseLost He barely remembers a time before them.   Perhaps, if he had planned, better, he would have lengthened the time between him and them. He would have given himself more time to develop before he began developing them. He would have recognised that he was the one in a fetal state, new to the world with bleary eyes that could be blinded by ‘what if’s, and not been so taken by the idea of another.   Maybe, if he had waited, he would have terminated and snuffed out that flame before it really caught. Maybe he should have. Maybe he should have seen the ridiculousness of him, fifteen and only in his first heat season, carrying a child.   -- Bruce had his first child at fifteen, his second was at twenty and his third was at twenty-four. They are an unconventional family, but a family all the same. Words: 5295, Chapters: 1/3, Language: English Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: Gen, M/M, Multi Characters: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Harvey Dent, Janet Drake, Jack Drake Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Harvey Dent/Bruce Wayne, Janet Drake/Bruce Wayne, Jack Drake/Bruce Wayne, Jack Drake/Janet Drake/Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Teen Pregnancy, Mpreg, Bruce Wayne is Tim Drake's Biological Parent, Bruce Wayne is Dick Grayson's Biological Parent, Bruce Wayne is Jason Todd's Biological Parent, He got pregnant with all of them, Omega Bruce Wayne, Omega Dick Grayson, Beta Jason Todd, Alpha Tim Drake, Needlessly thorough explanation of omegaverse lore and worldbuilding, Past Harvey Dent/Bruce Wayne, They are extremely divorced, Alpha Harvey Dent, Harvey Dent is Jason Todd's Parent, Past Janet Drake/Jack Drake/Bruce Wayne, Scenting, Platonic Cuddling, Good Parent Bruce Wayne, Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, God he really does, Male Lactation, Protective Bruce Wayne via https://ift.tt/gxVLqiF

[ao3feed-stevebucky]

On the Existence of Robots

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/aA6L0dh

by AnOctoberPepper

It’s unclear what’s wrong; Tony is sick, and Bucky’s arm is glitching, and more important than all of that is that Clint is not okay. The archer’s had bad days and weird days and days when they don’t see him at all, but when he rips the wires from his walls and lets loose an aqua-arrow into his ceiling, the avengers have to do something.

Or the one where Clint is losing it and we learn whether or not Captain America would punch a neo nazi.

Words: 5295, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Sam Wilson (Marvel)

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Clint Barton & Tony Stark, Clint Barton & Sam Wilson, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Suicidal Thoughts, Self-Harm, Schizophrenia, Mental Health Issues, general content warning for the existence of conservatives, Family, Avengers Family, It's really okay in the end, punch a nazi, Delusions, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/aA6L0dh

[ao3feed-tolkien]

Cultural Misunderstandings

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/mhSgB6z

by celebrimbor-telperiquar (damnbert)

After stumbling across what seems to be a casual (albeit secret) coupling in the woods, Finrod’s eyes are once again opened to the outgoing cultures of the Edain and possibilities he hadn’t allowed himself to consider in the past.

Words: 5295, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien, TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Bëor the Old, Finrod Felagund | Findaráto, Original Characters

Relationships: Bëor the Old/Finrod Felagund | Findaráto

Additional Tags: Accidental Voyeurism, Cultural Differences, Infidelity, not main pairing dw, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Misunderstandings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst, Self-Loathing, Casual Sex, mentioned - Freeform

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/mhSgB6z

[firstprince-ao3feed]

good love helps me feel it

good love helps me feel it https://ift.tt/5fhAwRJ by emonlispenardstreet “Thirsty?” Alex looks down at the glasses as if he’d forgotten they were there and laughs. Now that Henry is looking properly, he sees that Alex’s gaze is a little glassy—he’s not drunk, but he’s definitely on his way there. “Two of these were for June,” he objects. “Besides, Your Majesty, it’s a party.” “My proper title is ‘Your Royal Highness’; ‘Your Majesty’ is reserved for the Queen,” Henry says tightly on autopilot. “Oh, thank you for the etiquette lesson,” Alex shoots back, his voice full of sardonicism. “You’re welcome.” “Fine.” “Fine.” “Fine.” God, Alex is… he’s… insufferable. Henry is suffering. OR: After Henry's family is captured by an evil dictator, he's sent into the Prince Protection Program where Agent Ellen Claremont assigns him to blend in at the safest location she can think of: her house. Words: 5295, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston, Red White & Royal Blue (2023) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: June Claremont-Diaz, Nora Holleran, Percy "Pez" Okonjo, Ellen Claremont, Leo (Red White & Royal Blue), Amy Chen (Red White & Royal Blue), Zahra Bankston, Oscar Diaz (Red White & Royal Blue) Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Princess Protection Program, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Panic Attacks, Kidnapping, Illogical usurping of thrones, idiots to lovers, Mutual Pining, But they don't know it because they're DUMB, No I'm serious Henry's simpitude is next level in this one guys, Henry has never seen a hamburger before, Olympic level backbending to make hoco make sense in a college setting, Other Additional Tags to Be Added via AO3 works tagged 'Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor' https://ift.tt/hY5MBuW August 20, 2023 at 11:18AM

[ao3feed-jonmartin]

Rage

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/f8xuZsa by Trin (ssjtrinity) Martin is angry. Jon is getting there. Jonah… grieves? Jon finally learns where this young Jonah came from… and a huge and terrible realization about this quiet world. Words: 5295, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 15 of The Magnus Monsterverse Fandoms: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood, Sasha James, Jonah Magnus Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Additional Tags: Jonah does philosophy, I dunno that just seemed like it needed a warning read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/f8xuZsa

[hp-mcd-fest]

💀Day 15 💀

Title: Forget Me Not Author: @mean-whale-writes Characters/pairing: Remus Lupin & Gilderoy Lockhart Rating: M Word count/length: 5295 Warnings: Major character death, murder, strangulation Summary: “My copy of Wanderings with Werewolves is important to me,” Remus said earnestly. “I found it when I was struggling with my life, and it helped me find a direction. I’m very thankful that I happened upon it when I did.” Chapters: 1 – Prompt: 8 - Gilderoy Lockhart’s victims band together to plan the ultimate revenge

[puuvillaa]

Forget Me Not

Gilderoy Lockhart/Remus Lupin

Mature

5295 words

major character death, flirting, deception, murder, strangulation, revenge, angst

My @hp-mcd-fest entry

“My copy of Wanderings with Werewolves is important to me,” Remus said earnestly. “I found it when I was struggling with my life, and it helped me find a direction. I’m very thankful that I happened upon it when I did.”

Read on AO3

[kitawarheit]

Sutekina Oji (fic)

Fandom: Super Smash Bros Ship: Marth x Roy Rating: G Words: 5295

Shameless classic university AU with all the typical cheesy feel good tropes! I wrote this is as a gift to a friend but I hope you guys enjoy it too! Fic will start below the cut.

“To Liam My longest lasting online friend For proving that distance means nothing for true friends“

Smash Brothers University, a prestigious school for those gifted both physically and mentally. Established in 1999, it is run by two brothers who were like night and day to each other. The elder brother: nicknamed around the school as "Master Hand"; he was much more calm and collected in comparison, focusing on the academic aspects of the university. The younger brother: nicknamed as well and referred to as "Crazy Hand"; he was known for his wild and energetic personality, focused on running the sports and clubs parts of the school. Together, they each brought their ideas and formed what the university was today. Only those skilled in both areas seem to be able to get into the gates of SBU.

~

"Aw man, I'm gonna be late again," was exclaimed as he scrambled out of bed. Roy, son of the great stunt man Eliwood, third year student at SBU (minus his one year absence during an exchange program in his second year), was by no means a morning person and it showed with his perpetual tardiness to his morning classes. The red-head lived in a small apartment down the street with his friend, Pit, a second year. He was quick to dress into his uniform, taking a quick look in the mirror as he smoothed out some of the wrinkles on his uniform, snorting a quick "whatever" before heading downstairs, bag in tow. With no time for breakfast, Roy dashed out the door, making his way down to the university.

~

“...To seek each where where man doth live, The sea, the land, the rock, the clive, France, Spain, and Inde, and every where; Is none greater gift to give, Less set by oft, and is so lief and dear, Dare I well say than that I give to year,” the teacher could be heard reciting from outside the classroom, as Roy quietly slid open the door, thinking he was unheard, ducking down to avoid the teacher’s line of sight. Without skipping a beat or even turning away from writing on the board, the teacher sighed and spoke again. “Just hurry up, Roy, and take your seat; we can all see you sneaking in.”

“Yes, sir,” he said, quick to stand up tall and shuffle his way to his seat at the back of the class. The whole class erupted into a quiet chuckle as Roy was, once again, caught by the alert senses of Dr. Mario. Defeated, Roy slumped into his seat behind Pit’s, glancing over to notice even Marth laughing a bit, causing a soft fluster to brush on Roy’s cheeks.

Marth Lowell was a third year, just like Roy was. Although, unlike Roy, Marth was one of the most popular boys in school. He was handsome, smart, in kendo club (which he excelled in), and just overall one of the nicest guys around. The girls in school swooned over the "Prince of SBU" and Roy was quick to find out why.

The two met in first year math class, overhearing the girls behind him as Marth introduced himself. Roy rolled his eyes while they were, quite frankly failing at, whispering. But, he found he was unable to stop himself from taking a second glance at Marth—they were right, he was rather handsome... The friendship didn't start, though, until about two weeks in, when Roy found himself struggling in the homework area. He gathered up the courage to actually ask for help, seeing as Marth always had the answer in class. He didn't think Marth would actually agree and was surprised when he said he was happy to help.

First year grew their friendship, exchanging numbers at mid-terms, much to Roy's gratitude as he knew he would need the extra academic help. The end of first year came and Roy told Marth that he would be studying a year in America, mostly to be with his mother and her side of the family for a while. Thus, came Roy's fondest memory; a forlorn look in Marth's eye as he hugged the smaller male, simply saying "please, keep in touch". Roy would never forget how soft Marth's touch (and voice for that matter) was. A soft blush on his face, Roy could only muster a nod.

Second year consisted of daily messages between the two and the start of Roy missing his friend, which began to turn into feelings of infatuation towards Lowell. Or perhaps it was more that he was just now realizing that his feelings had been a little more than just “friendly”. Roy had always been comfortable with his orientation but he just wasn't sure how he felt about these budding feelings at the time. Try as he might, he just couldn't stop thinking about the last day of first year.

Third year came around and Roy would think that reuniting with Marth would settle his feelings into "just missing a friend". Fate would have other plans it seemed as Roy's feelings would only grow more from being around his friend once again. Feelings he would have trouble hiding; at least it seemed that way, what with Pit picking up on it and teasing him with it.

The class settled back into the lesson quickly and Pit turned around to greet his friend and roommate, a big grin spread on his face. To this, Roy only furrowed his brows and frowned, lowering his voice to a sharp whisper.

“Why didn’t you just wake me before you left,” the red-head hissed. “I was late again!”

Pit only shrugged and stifled a chuckle, turning around to face the front of the class again.

~

At lunch hour, the two usually liked to sit on the roof, tucked away in a corner as they watched others on the roof. Pit usually had a fresh meal packed that he would make the night before. Roy didn't feel the drive to bother with all that and always just bought from the vending machine or lunch room, whichever he felt like traveling to that day.

"So," Pit said flatly, taking a bite out of one of the halves of his sandwich. He gave the other a side glance, smiling softly.

"So," mimicked Roy, quizzically. "So, what?"

"Have you told Marth your feelings yet," the other asked bluntly, causing Roy to flush as red hot as his hair.

"Don't be so loud, Pit," he scolded, then sighed in defeat, putting down his tart into his lap. "I mean, what's the point? It's obvious we're just friends, and he can have any cute girl in this school he wants, why would he ever want someone like me?"

“Or guy,” Pit remarked, grinning to himself with a soft hum. “He was awfully close with that new guy, Ike, last year. Pretty handsome, too. And he's now captain of the basketball team! Overall, pretty amazing~”

“Pit,” his friend groaned. “You are terrible! Why egg me on like that!?”

“Just so I can get a good laugh when he blows you off~”

To this, Roy promptly punched the brunette’s arm, causing him to squeal and retaliate with a pinch to Roy’s cheek. Thus, starting their weekly fighting that wouldn’t end until they went to bed that night.

~

During free period, some students would study academics, while others would practice in whatever sport or club they were in. Roy, being in the soccer team, would usually be down on the field, doing exercises or practicing drills. Meanwhile, Pit was in tennis, and he would be seen on the court practicing with a girl named Peach. It was nice now and again to have a break from him. While they were friends, sometimes Pit's teasing got a bit much.

"I thought I'd find you here," came an all too familiar voice. Roy looked up from his stretching to find Marth standing over him, causing him to draw in a silent breath. "I know it's still early in the year, but I haven't seen you come to me for help. I mean, that's good if you're able to get it, don't get me wrong! I just want to make sure you're doing alright, is all."

Marth gave the back of his head a sheepish rub as he wondered if that came out right. To his relief, Roy smiled and gave him a thumbs up.

"I think I'm doing good so far! But this streak probably won't last long," Roy said with a groan as he gave an extra hard stretch out of his torso.

"You should have more faith in yourself, Roy," the other retorted with a frown.

Before Roy could respond, the warning bell for the near end of free period rang, giving students time to change out of gym clothes, wash up, and get back into uniform before next class. Standing, he was surprised when Marth then laid a hand on his shoulder, causing a faint blush to brush on his cheeks.

"Hey," his friend started. "It's been a while and we haven't had time to catch up. How about we go to that ramen shop you like tonight? My treat!"

Roy nodded eagerly, giving the biggest smile he could muster at the offer. “Of course, man! It would be awesome!”

~

Roy, as late as he was to class, was surprisingly early to Chef Kirby's Ramen House that was a few blocks away from the school. Saving a seat for his friend at a nice table with booth seats, he waited patiently for the other to arrive, waving excitedly when he saw Marth. Seeing his friend smile as he walked closer... it made his heart skip a beat. Roy, in that moment, fully understood why he was nicknamed "Prince of SBU". That radiant smile, his fair skin, those brilliant blue eyes—he found himself staring and quickly turned his head back to the menu as Marth took his seat across from him.

"You're early," Marth teased, laughing softly. "That's a first for you."

"Hey," Roy huffed. "I can be early if I wanted to. Class just... starts so early and my bed is way too comfy at that hour in the morning!"

They shared a small laugh between each other, before Marth spoke up.

"Now when I said tonight was my treat, I mean it! Get whatever you want, Roy, okay?"

Roy, who was in no way about to pass up such a generous offer, nodded happily and looked over the menu. He usually ate the same thing, but he felt like branching out today to try something else. They decided on what they wanted before the waitress showed up, gave their order, and watched her go off with their menus.

“So,” Marth started, breaking the brief silence with his voice, placing his hands carefully in his lap. “You never got to tell me much about your trip. I'm excited to hear!”

The red-head shook his head, offering a bright smile.

“It wasn't much to write home about. I've seen most there is to see where my mom lives, so it's not as exciting anymore. Oh, but I did find out I'm now a big brother!”

“Ah, congrats, then,” Marth exclaimed with a grin. “But... isn't it hard sometimes? At least I imagine so... having your father here and your mother so far away.”

“Well,” the other said with a soft hum of thought, finally shaking his head. “Not really. I guess I get so used to it. That, and I can always video call her whenever I want to since she's staying at home now with the baby.”

Marth nodded slow—if his friend wasn't negatively affected by it, then there was no cause for worry. The two continued to talk, even throughout their meal; mostly with Marth asking about Roy's trip and family in America. Once they had finished, the sun was already starting to set, and the two stepped outside to go home.

“Wait,” Roy said, reaching out to grab his friend's arm, flustering a brief moment, and letting go quickly. “I mean, the least I can do is walk you home for today, yeah?”

The blue-haired student blinked but then his lips curled into a smile.

“Of course!”

The walk wasn't long and was filled mostly with talk about assignments and happenings of different classes. While it wasn't a great distance, the two took their time to walk, enjoying each other's company, as they missed a whole year of each other. They stopped once they reached the gate to Marth's home, turning to face each other.

“Marth, I,” Roy began, looking down a bit. To this, the other tilted his head to the side curiously, waiting for the other male to continue.

“I,” the red-head spoke, drawing a breath as he looked up at his (just slightly) taller friend. “I wanna thank you for today. And all the times you have and probably will help me. It means a lot. You're an amazing friend.”

Confused, but happy, the prince laughed softly and shook his head.

“Roy, it's not anything to thank me for. That's what friends do!”

With that, they parted ways and Roy went back to his apartment.

~

“I'm home,” Roy groaned as he came in the door, slipping out of his shoes. He noticed Pit on the couch with a bowl of ice cream, watching some cheesy soap opera.

“Welcome home,” the other said, turning his head from the TV to shoot his friend a wicked grin. “So, how was your date with the prince~?”

“It wasn't a date,” the red-head snapped back, making his way to his room.

“Maybe so,” Pit called out to him. “But it could have been the perfect chance to shoot your shot!”

Roy closed the door on Pit's words and set his bag down on his desk before promptly flopping on his bed. As much as he hated it, Pit was right. It was the perfect opportunity, but he let it slip past his fingers. He closed his eyes and thought back on their walk home

“Marth, I...”

What would have happened if he had confessed how he felt? Would he feel the same? Would he be disgusted? He would never know and now he had no idea if he would ever get the chance again...

“Marth,” he murmured to himself. “I think... I love you...”

Pushing himself from the bed, he went about to take a shower and relax the rest of the night, attempting to rid his mind of “what if”s.

~

The next morning, Roy was finally on time for morning class, leaving with Pit to walk to the University. The two had finally got over their teasing and bickering and were back to normal for the rest of the week or, rather, until they started up again. During free period, Roy was attempting some of his homework that he had so he could go out shopping and have a free weekend this time, seeing as it was already Friday. But, he came to a point where he became stumped and packed up his things back in his bag, taking a deep breath. He really didn't want to rely on Marth's help too much, but it seems his friend was the only one he could turn to for help.

“Damn,” he muttered to himself. “I thought I was doing good there for a while, too.”

Shrugging off his stubbornness, he left the classroom to go search for Marth, happily humming to himself as he went down the hallway. Turning a corner to another hallway, he found the other down this hall, a bit down the way. It seemed he was talking with someone—he remembered seeing the other male somewhere before. Wait... that was Ike! He was sure of it. It was hard to mistake such a towering figure; one perfect for being on the basketball team. For a moment, against Roy's conscious will, he could swear he felt a twinge of... jealousy? No, that was dumb. Pit was just getting to his head, like his teasing did sometimes. Internally shaking it off, he started walking again, opening his mouth to call out to his friend.

“Hey, Marth, I—“

Roy didn't get far before he stopped dead in his tracks, unable to form words anymore, as he watched the scene play before him. Ike... just kissed... Marth! Emotions swelled in his chest, a whirlwind of everything, and he felt like the world had just stopped. Turning on his heels, he ran down the hallway, unable to to hear his friend calling out after him.

The red-head found the nearest bathroom and locked himself in it, letting his bag fall from his hand as he slumped his back against the door. At this point, he couldn't stop the tears that welled in his eyes even if he tried, emotions everywhere—heartbreak, regret, jealousy...

“I should have...,” he whispered to himself, sniffling as he wiped the tears away on his uniform sleeve. No. There wasn't any room for “should have”s. He had a chance and he completely missed it. This was his own fault, he thought. Besides... he had no idea how long they had been a thing. For all he knew, it could have started when he was over in America. For all he knew, he missed his chance long before last night.

He took a deep breath and moved towards the sink, rinsing his face in cold water. Roy gripped the sides of the sink as he rose his head to look in the mirror. It wasn't... the best face, but it would do. It wouldn't take long for the slight redness in his eyes to go away, he figured. He would just play it off.

~

The rest of that day was a blur—he finished classes and went straight home. No practice. No chatting. But, after a night of moping and watching dumb soap operas and eating ice cream with Pit, the weekend came around. Roy wanted nothing more than to distract himself and get his head back in the game, so, he and Pit went out around town.

“Man,” Pit said with a sigh. “I'm still sorry that all happened. I mean, it's dumb! Ike is dumb.”

Roy only laughed lightly and shook his head.

“It'll be alright, Pit. It just wasn't meant to be.”

He was surprisingly calm about it all, to Pit anyways. Inside, he was still torn up. But what better way to get someone off your mind then to hang out with someone else? … Okay, so that sounded a little mean—but it was best to hang with Pit. He found them to be good friends, past all the teasing. After all, Pit happily opened his place to Roy when he came back from America. There were a lot of good things about Pit that made him grateful for everything. That made him not care about all the picking and fighting.

“Still,” Pit exclaimed. “If he's your friend, you should have known about it!”

The red-head only shrugged as they stopped by a crepe stand to order something to eat. As they walked and ate, he would listen to Pit's own woes—surprisingly, this had an effect on the angel as well! It seemed he was really hoping to court Ike and hearing he was with Marth made him just as upset as Roy. So, they had similar grounds to gripe about how their love lives absolutely were in ruins at the moment.

As they were walking, they both stopped in their tracks, just as they saw Ike and Marth in front of them! For a moment, Roy paused, thinking he wasn't in the mood to see his friend just yet. But, he pushed down the feeling to be polite—and to a friend of three years now. He should be happy for Marth, he thought. Happy for his happiness.

There was a brief silence between the two groups before Pit piped up, saving Roy from his thoughts.

“Hey, Ike,” the angel said, taking the other man's arm. “So, I've been meaning to talk to you about, uhh, switching to the basketball team! Mind if we chat?”

Ike, taken aback by suddenly being pulled away, only nodded his head and followed Pit. Roy knew that was a lie, but knew what Pit was planning for the two of them. He wasn't sure whether or not to thank him or berate him.

Roy turned from watching Pit run off with the taller male to facing Marth. The prince smiled a bit nervously, knowing Roy had witnessed... that, the other day.

“Hey Roy,” he said softly, gazing into the brilliant eyes of the smaller male. “I've been meaning to catch up with you. I didn't see you after school and, well, I got worried—ah, not an urgent worry, I mean; it just isn't your usual is all!”

Worried?

“I'm fine,” Roy said with the best smile he could muster. “No need to worry about me, dude.”

With a soft, relieved sigh, Marth tilted his head some and smiled back.

“Well, I know it's the weekend, but did you need help studying?”

“Oh,” Roy started, blinking as he was caught off by being forced out of his thoughts. Right, moping was over, time to get back to the regular pace of life. He nods and gives the other a thumbs up. “Actually, since I didn't the other night, studying would be great!”

“Great,” Marth replied with a soft laugh. “Your place or my place this time?”

“My place is fine. Tonight alright for you?”

“Of course, Roy. Anything to help a dear friend!”

Dear friend, huh? A twinge of pain and uncertainty shot through Roy's heart, but he was quick to brush it off. He needed to focus on studying, not affairs of love.

~

Evening came and Roy was still dressed down in his shorts and a t-shirt when the doorbell rang. Pit was first to answer, of course, seeing as he was in the living room, watching more cheesy soap operas, while Roy was attempting some homework. Needless to say, it wasn't going well, and boy was he happy to hear Marth show up. Running downstairs, he felt really undressed, when he saw the other dressed up so nicely, even on his time off from school, causing him to flush in embarrassment.

“Hey,” Roy greeted, clearing his throat as he looked up at the other, trying to brush away stray thoughts. “Do you want something to drink or eat before we get to studying?”

“No, thanks,” Marth replied with a gentle smile. “I actually just got done with dinner.”

To that, Roy nodded politely and guided him upstairs to his room.

~

“Haaaaah,” the red-head sighed, leaning back on his arms, away from the little table he had set up for them to study by. “My brain hurts.”

Marth only laughed, supporting his chin on the backside of his hand, elbow propped on the table. At this point, he was already comfortable enough to have shed his jacket, sporting a more casual (but still nice) button-up shirt underneath, along with a pair of slacks.

“Hey, Marth,” Roy piped up after a brief pause. “Can I ask you something?”

“Hmm,” the blue-haired prince hummed in reply as he idly looked over what was left of both of their homework.

“I'm just curious, but,” the other started, sitting back up and crossing his legs. His heart didn't care for the answer he thought he would get, but the curiosity and unable to think about anything else at the moment took over. “Can I ask how long you and Ike have been together?”

“Ike and I,” Marth looked up, question in his tone of voice, as he blinked. A sudden bout of laughter erupted from the prince, which caused Roy to flinch in surprise.

“W-What's so funny...!?”

After a moment to calm down, Marth sighed and shook his head.

“This is about the other day, right?”

Roy looked down in defeat, quiet.

“Roy; Ike and I aren't together.”

“H-Huh,” Roy looked back up, confused, yet joyous in some way.

“Yeah,” Marth said with a smile, taking his turn to lean back some. “It's... a big misunderstanding, really. That day, Ike said he had something important to tell me and just... kissed me! I was so shocked and then I saw you... Well, I had pushed him away rather harshly to try to catch up with you. The next day, Ike called to apologize, and I apologized for pushing him so hard, so we called a truce and went out for lunch. Then I saw you!”

A big misunderstanding? Roy couldn't help to be overjoyed, even if that meant Ike was left with a broken heart. He kept his joy concealed for the moment though, as he focused back on what the other was saying.

“I see,” Roy hummed, feeling himself unable to help but smile. “So... you're not seeing anyone now?”

Marth shook his head “no”, then tilted it to the side a bit.

“Roy, what has you so curious tonight?”

… Right. Now was his chance and he doubted the stars would ever align like this again. But, he had to do it right—not be pushy like Ike. He had to make this right; maybe not perfect but perhaps perfectly imperfect. He took a deep breath and sat up a bit more, looking Marth right in the eyes with a fiery passion displayed in those brilliant blue eyes of his—a slightly brighter hue than Marth's.

“Marth,” he breathed, causing the other to flush lightly—no doubt he could hear the passion dripping from his voice. “Look... I'll just come out and say it: I like you. A lot. I've liked you since we became friends, I think.” He paused with a breathy laugh, finding his own confusion on the matter a bit ludicrous. “I was... upset, yeah, thinking you and Ike were together. I thought I had lost my chance to ever have this moment with you...”

Roy trailed off and looked away, afraid to hear rejection, should it come and yet unable to continue his confession.

“Roy,” came Marth's soft voice, causing Roy to pick his head up and face the prince. Yet, when Roy looked at his friend, all he saw was the softest smile—close, if not more, than the smile he saw the day he left to America. A light blush dusted his ivory cheeks as his eyes radiated sincerity.

“You know,” Marth said with a soft laugh, looking down to his lap out of his own embarrassment. “I had an inkling that you felt this way, but I never really asked or pushed for the answer—I told myself because I didn't want to interfere with your academics or something silly like that.”

Roy watched his friend speak, feeling like they were the only two to exist in the world at this moment—everything else had shut out of his brain. He didn't even realize he was holding in his breath. Cautiously, he scooted around the table to sit on the adjacent side of Marth, as if ready to console him, but still a space between them.

“But I think I was just nervous,” Marth continued to speak, finally lifting his head to face Roy once again. “Maybe I was afraid, somewhere, that acting on it would ruin our friendship in some way—but that's just nerves... because... I really like you a lot too, Roy.”

Both of them paused a moment, caught gazing at each other before they started laughing. Roy was the first to settle as he reached out, placing a gentle hand over Marth's as it was still rested on the tabletop, the red hue on Marth's face turning a bit darker with the small action. When Marth looked up at Roy again, he found the other looking him in the eye with a fire he had never yet seen before. There was a mix of things, he could tell—soothing, caring, loving; among others he wasn't sure how to place.

“I guess we were both caught up in our heads,” Roy started to speak calmly, a smile on his bright features. “Afraid of hurting each other that we turned a blind eye to what was right in front of us.”

“You're right,” Marth mused with a soft sigh. “I suppose I was focused on your happiness and I couldn't imagine that your happiness was... Well... Me.”

Roy watched as Marth averted his gaze, obviously embarrassed to say such a thing out loud. Yet, there was another surprise waiting for this prince, as Roy lifted the hand that was over his, reaching over to his face. As Roy cupped the side of Marth's face, he gave a small gasp, face burned red as he turned his gaze back at the other. Was he imagining things—or was Roy suddenly closer than before?

“It is,” Roy spoke soft, a more serious tone in his words, leaning in to be inches away from Marth's face. “But what would make me the most happy... Would be having you as a partner...”

“Yes,” Marth breathed, his words coming out faster than he could think. Then again, there was no need to think. Not after that perfectly imperfect kind of confession. Not after being the one to close the space between them, lips pressed against Roy's in some unspoken celebration. This was it. The day Marth dreamed of. The day Roy dreamed of. To be able to finally be this close...

“Hey, Roy,” Pit shouted from downstairs, startling the two of them out of their dream-like state as they parted rather quickly. Scrambling to his feet, Roy went to his door, opening it and peering out from the doorway to see Pit at the bottom of the stairs.

“I'm gonna head downtown with Ike,” Pit announced with a wry smile. “I'll be back later! Don't do anything I would do~”

Roy sputtered a bit, caught off guard, but Pit already had his jacket and was out the door before Roy could retaliate. Giving a huff, he turned back into his room, walking back over to Marth, who was standing now, looking at his phone.

“I'm actually a little glad he caught your attention,” Marth said with a soft laugh, turning to Roy. “Just a little. But, really, it is starting to get late—and as much as I want to stay, I've been visiting my older sister on Sundays recently, so I try to get to the train station a bit early in the morning.”

As much as he, too, didn't want this night to end, Roy gave a small nod. Family is important, after all; Roy would know. Grabbing a sweater as Marth packed his few things back in his bag, Roy turned to the other with a small grin.

“Mind if I walk you back?”

“I'd love that,” Marth responded with his own smile as he slipped his jacket on, grabbing his bag to head down the stairs with Roy. Stepping out as Roy opened the door, he paused to look up at the already darkened sky. Only a few stars were out right now, but it was still a wonderful night none the less. Once Roy had locked the front door and stood next to him, Marth turned his head to look over at his newfound partner, who had offered his hand to him.

Silently, Marth smiled as bright as the stars above and took Roy's hand in his own, intertwining their fingers together. As they walked, they talked as they normally would—nothing about that had changed. Yet, as Roy held on to Marth's hand, he couldn't help but feel like the stars were shining a little bit brighter that night.

Just for them.

The prince and the marquess.