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There’s no reason for a man like Todoroki Enji to walk into Oxymel Café but here he is standing, glaring daggers at the barista.
“A Black Eye to go.”
In another world, Shouto would’ve punched him right in the face to give him his dear black eye, but instead he grits his teeth as he nods, entering the order in the cash machine.
“Anything else, sir?”
He has trouble uttering the last word but customer service is a must at the Oxymel. And in this dreadful position, Todoroki Enji is his customer and has him at his mercy.
Honestly, Shouto doesn’t see much difference whether he’s at home or at the Oxymel. He always feels he’s at his mercy.
“I must say that having my son regaining his common sense would be a great addition.”
Shouto breathes out through his nose, “Anything else relating to coffee and pastries, sir?”
“Nothing, then.”
Shouto stalks away from his father, grabbing the double espresso portafilter. Across him stands Izuku, brewing regular coffee and sending furtive glimpses at him.
“That’s him?” He asks when he pours the espresso and the drop coffee in a recyclable cup. “He sure does look like the Devil.”
Shouto quirks an eyebrow. “How do you know how the Devil looks like?”
“It’s a secret,” Izuku chirps, his eyes glinting with mischief as he turns around and scribbles something on the cup. Then he edges to Enji with a saccharine smile. “Here sir, your Black Eye.”
It’s only when he removed his hand from the cup that Shouto remarks that Izuku’s identified his father as ‘Satan’. But said Satan, even with his drink in hand, isn’t budging from the counter as he glares down on Izuku.
“So you’re the nuisance.”
Shouto stiffens and is about to snatch Izuku away but his boyfriend finds the inner strength to nod and grin, “I can say the same about you. Maybe we should have a nuisance to nuisance talk?”
The atmosphere is suddenly brimming with tension. They’re staring at each other with enough intense hatred to split the atoms in the air separating them. Shouto hovers around the espresso machine, feeling like a he’s a cub being shielded by his mother.
“Izu— Midoriya,” Shouto catches himself as Enji’s glowers targets him instead, “we have customers.”
There’s technically no person waiting in line, but it’s the only thing Shouto finds as a plausible excuse. Izuku seemed to pick up his implied words since he steps back from Enji, his falsely honeyed smile still plastered on his lips.
“I hope you’ll enjoy your drink. Have a day as nice as your personality.”
Shouto’s cheeks are burning but he can’t decide whether it’s in embarrassment or pride. When Izuku comes back next to him, Shouto makes sure to flick his forehead, eliciting a small yelp from the freckled barista.
“I pissed him off, didn’t I?” Izuku asks, glowing as if he’s just received a prize.
“He called you a nuisance and you proved his point right. Somehow I’m happy you did. I wouldn’t tolerate any nuisance but you,” Shouto whispers as he nuzzles Izuku’s nose with his own.
“I also kind of spiked his drink.”
Shouto pulls away so fast he’s convinced he got whiplash. He believed Izuku was the least probable to break one of the Oxymel’s Sacred Commandments established by ever so diligent Iida. One of them, of course, is to always offer their customers the best service even there’s animosity between the barista and the client. Even Shouto’s respected the Commandment when facing his father.
“Nothing serious!” Izuku assures him, eyes as wide as saucers. “I just spat in his coffee.”
Shouto stares at him, who closed his eyes in fear of retribution. Shouto doesn’t quite know how to react so he bursts out laughing.
Todoroki Enji shows up on the next day, his ironed suit and pressed tie contrasting with the other customers’ jeans and plaid shirts. Heads turn when he strides to Shouto, carrying himself with his chin tilted high and his sharp eyes skewering anyone daring to glance at him.
“You really want a black eye, don’t you?” Shouto mutters under his breath when he reaches him.
“I want my son back.”
“I’m afraid you can’t buy this. Anything else?”
Instead of brushing it off, his father leans down, telling him, “You have until April 12 to change programs. I can pay all your university fees if you go in Business and Economics.”
Does he really think he can buy Shouto with money? He isn’t like him, not a greedy man who only understands love in the form of riches and power.
“I’m not changing programs.”
“Is there something wrong, Todoroki?” Iida asks, examining Enji.
“Nothing’s wrong. This client was about to pay.”
Of course, it’s too much to ask that his father actually does what Shouto wants and leaves to never return.
“This client,” he rather scoffs. “Are you ashamed of your father?”
Iida’s eyes menace to leap out of their sockets and he whirls to face Shouto. “That’s why your name was familiar. Your father’s Todoroki Enji.”
“I want to talk to my son. Surely you don’t have any objection?”
Shouto’s eyes narrows down as he notes his father squaring his shoulders and puffing his chest out to appear more intimidating. Iida remains silent for a moment before he denies the request, insisting that the Commandments wouldn’t be violated under his watch.
Shouto’s never been so grateful for Iida’s dutifulness.
“He can, however, talk to you during his break.”
Shouto takes everything back.
Enji grins in satisfaction, reminding Shouto of a shark about to gobble him whole. He refuses to meet his father’s gaze as he hands him his receipt. Enji’s hand coils around Shouto’s wrist instead of taking the bill, and Shouto looks up to two bottomless abysses.
“You and I have a lot of catching up to do.”
His father drinks his Black Eye coffee at the nearest table, his eyes tracking Shouto’s every move like a hawk. Even if years passed since Shouto moved out of his iron grip, his father’s presence still makes him nervous, his hands shaking when he pours drinks and dropping coins on the counter in his distraction. Shouto wishes Iida chase Enji away for harassment, but his coworker speaks in blissful ignorance about the virtues of a united family and how it’s important to communicate.
Shouto finds himself wishing, not for the first time, to have a family like the one Iida describes.
His break comes too fast to his liking. He lingers behind the counter for a few moments before Iida’s encouraging smile turns into a confused expression.
“Don’t you go see him?”
Shouto wishes he can explain to him the situation he’s in since the day he was born.
“Yes, Shouto, why don’t you go see me?” Enji’s jarring voice calls.
Iida slaps his back to give him strength but all it does is deflate him. Sighing, Shouto drags himself to his father, hands fisted on his sides, feeling like an animal sent to the butcher. Somehow, in the back of his mind, Shouto regrets not having Midoriya by his side. His fierceness could’ve deterred Enji from staying until his break.
“Do you want to know how much time I dedicated to prepare you?”
“I don’t know, but you should’ve used this time to realise your endeavours are futile.”
Enji snarls, repeating the word as if it let an acrid taste in his mouth, “Futile. Is that a world you learned in school? I certainly didn’t teach you this word because everything I plan and do has a goal that will be reached. You are my ultimate goal.”
“I am not a goal. I’m human,” Shouto seethes.
Enji grabs his mug and downs his black eye in one large gulp, slamming the mug down on the table when he’s finished. The sound rang hollow, reflecting Shouto’s emotions.
“You’re my son, a Todoroki, and the heir I designated to take over Endeavor Enterprises.”
“And I told you I don’t want to take over.”
“You’re never going to be a writer, Shouto.”
He’s heard the words so many times but it never fails to shake him to the core like poisonous thorns embedding in his heart. He always tears them out, but they grow back and pollute his mind.
“You can’t dictate my fate.”
“There’s never been any destiny different than the one I planned for you. I trained you all your life for this moment so you can be ready when I’ll give you the reins.”
The adjective futile truly finds its definition whenever Shouto talks about his future with his father.
“This conversation’s going in circles. I’m not going to take over the industry because I’m majoring in English to become a writer.”
“You’re being foolish. Did they teach you this word in your English lessons? Foolish. You’re rejecting a post that’s practically your birthright, a post with an excellent salary and a high reputation for an insecure profession at the whims of an audience.”
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m being foolish.” He can see the triumph glowing in his father’s eyes but Shouto wasn’t over. “But writing is what I love. I’m more than aware it’s not an easy profession but I don’t mind. It’s what I want to do.”
“You’re dooming yourself to a life of constant anxiety.”
“Whatever I’m dooming myself to is better than any future in Endeavor Enterprises.”
His father leans back, folding his arms. “Did the nuisance put you up to something?”
“The nuisance as you say is my boyfriend.”
The chair rattles as his father stands up, his eyes smouldering. There’s no doubt that Izuku’s status changed from ‘nuisance’ to ‘Enemy No. 1’. His fists are clenching and then loosening robotically, his moustache twitching as his lips curled in a snarl. His right hand is quivering, as if itching to grasp Shouto by the collar or to imprint itself on Shouto’s cheek.
Shouto’s glad they’re in public.
“Your reputation is still… salvageable if you told no one about it. I’ll arrange an omiai where we’ll find you a suitable bride that won’t be as annoying as your mother.”
Shouto shoots on his feet, his throat aching as he refrains himself from screaming. His eyes are brewing their own storm as they lock with his father’s, unfaltering.
“You don’t have the right to talk about her.”
“Don’t tell me you still believe—”
But Shouto points the exit. “Get out.”
He’s stunned when his father doesn’t protest. Enji spins on his heels and Shouto wonders what the catch is. He learns it when his father’s halfway through the coffee shop, he swivels back with a slow smile spreading on his face.
“I’ll contact you for the omiai. Make sure to remember who’s paying your mother’s medicine.”
And Todoroki Enji leaves the Oxymel, Shouto’s heart sinking.
Shouto receives the omiai convocation a few days later when he’s doing the last shift. His father’s called him thrice, annoyed that Shouto didn’t pick up. In the end, he’s left a message where he was indicating the location, the time and the name of the lady Shouto was supposed to meet.
Shouto entertains the idea of suppressing the message before his father’s words ring in his head.
“Shouto, are you coming?”
They’re standing in front of the Oxymel, alone on the street. Izuku’s tiptoeing to see what’s written on Shouto’s phone. Shouto shoves the device in his pocket, looking down at the asphalt. He avoids his boyfriend’s eyes, knowing Izuku is almost psychic when it comes to reading Shouto.
“Yes, I am.”
“Shouto, who called you?”
“Let’s go,” Shouto rathers insists, reaching for Izuku’s hand.
But Izuku slaps his hand away. Shouto feels like he’s been stabbed, the thorns tightening their deadly grip around his heart. He takes a step back, almost tripping on the sidewalk, but Izuku grabs at his shoulders and steadies him. One of his hands catches his chin and forces him to meet his gaze. Shouto refuses, his eyes darting on everything but Izuku’s serious eyes.
“What did your father do?”
“It’s nothing important.”
Izuku sighs, “You didn’t deny he did something and since it’s your father, it’s got to be big.”
Shouto observes how the lamppost light illuminates his eyes and makes them appear wider, brighter, or perhaps they’ve always been so radiant. Wordlessly, he embraces Izuku. The latter doesn’t reject him, rather wrapping his arms around Shouto’s torso and humming in content. He smells of coffee, which isn’t surprising since they spent the day working and that Shouto dropped the open bag of coffee beans on him, but it smells of home.
He remembers Iida talking about a family. He remembers his younger self dreaming about people caring for him, encouraging him, smiling with him. Shouto closes his eyes and all he sees is Iida’s enthusiasm as he instructs Shouto about the Oxymel’s Commandments, Uraraka’s teasing when she asks about Izuku and him, Bakugou’s glare as he hands Shouto froth milk during a rush, Izuku’s smile no matter what Shouto does or what he says.
But Izuku has a special place in the strange family he’s found in the coffee shop.
In fact, Shouto doesn’t see him as part of the family, or else they wouldn’t be able to date.
“My fathers wants me to find a wife he deems suitable.”
Izuku peeks up, taking in Shouto’s drawn features. “But you don’t want to.”
“Of course I don’t to. I told him about it but I’m in no position to bargain. He threatened to stop paying my mother’s treatments if I don’t comply.”
“How much does it cost?”
Shouto chuckles at the question but it comes out as a choked sound between a sob and a mirthless laugh. “I’d have to write a best seller to pay them all.”
“You can’t let your father control your life but I understand you’re in a pinch.”
“It’s more than a pinch, Izuku. I can’t let him hurt her more than he already did.”
He’s thankful that Izuku doesn’t prod for more questions. He’s also thankful that Izuku shakes his head, stricken, his grip tightening.
“You’re not leaving me. I forbid you.”
Shouto staggers back when Izuku hauls himself higher on his chest to kiss him. He ends up stumbling until his back hits the Oxymel’s windows, Izuku’s legs now wrapping themselves around his torso where his arms were a few seconds ago. He’s taller than Shouto from this position and he seems to enjoy it, his hands on both sides of Shouto’s head against the glass.
“Izuku, we’ll have to wash the windows again now.”
“I forbid you,” Izuku repeats as he covers Shouto’s forehead with butterfly kisses. Their heartbeat beat at the same rhythm, connected. “Tell me you’ll stay with me.”
“I am, as long as you want me.”
“That means forever, then.”
Izuku seals their promise with a kiss.
“As charming as this is,” Shouto murmurs, “what do I do for my mother?”
“We’ll start by telling Aizawa to ban Satan from the Oxymel. Then we’ll make a fund.”
Shouto blinks, unsure if his ears played a trick on him. “A fund?”
“Yes. It’s great idea, isn’t it?”
Shouto searches Izuku’s eyes for any sign of deceit but he meets earnestness instead.
“Your faith astounds me. No one will give money since they don’t know about her or me. They don’t care.”
“I care about you, and so does Iida, Uraraka and everyone working in the Oxymel. We’ll work hard to gather money. I’m sure Aizawa will help!”
Izuku had a lot of faith in the Oxymel’s owner, it seems. Shouto sighs, not finding the strength to point out the flaws in his project. Truthfully, a fund’s better than nothing.
“Let’s wash the windows first and then I’ll take you to the restaurant you were gushing about.”
Izuku nods eagerly, squirming to unentangle his legs in hurry. Shouto’s about to tell him to stop when Izuku’s weight pulls them both towards the sidewalk. Izuku yelps, latching on Shouto, and Shouto wraps his arms once more around him. They crash in a tangle of limbs, Shouto wincing as his arms scrape against the ground.
They must’ve been quite the sight, Izuku laughing so much there were tears in his eyes, and Shouto smiling tenderly at him.
“A fund?” Aizawa blinks, his voice toneless.
But Shouto isn’t afraid because he knows a toneless voice is Aizawa’s default mode.
“To pay the necessary treatments that Shouto’s mother needs,” Izuku explains.
“And how does this benefit the Café?”
Izuku’s jaw drops. “But sir, one of your employees is in trouble so it’s natural—”
“It doesn’t,” Shouto interjects, earning a strong nudge from Izuku. “You have no reason to make a fund since the amassed money won’t be used for the Oxymel so I understand if you refuse.”
Aizawa blinks again. “Don’t you want to get money to pay your mother’s treatment?”
Shouto eyes him, uncertain. “Does it mean you’re ready to start a fund?”
“To gather the amount of money your mother needs will take a lot of time and this amount will only suffice for a year.”
“Then what do you propose?”
Aizawa scribbles down something on his notepad, tearing the paper and giving it to Shouto. There were only a few words written along with a phone number.
“All Might Foundation?”
Izuku shrieks next to him, “All Might? The All Might?”
Aizawa nods. “He’ll help you.”
Shouto frowns. One For All Enterprises have once been Endeavor Enterprises’ main rival since both companies operated in the business industry, owning two thirds of Tokyo just the two of them. Of course, Todoroki Enji saw it as a personal affront from Toshinori Yagi, the eighth CEO to take over the booming company, and today still is bitter about it even if Toshinori had quit One For All Enterprises a year ago. The latter was retired but used his fortune for philanthropy with the All Might Foundation.
“But doesn’t the All Might Foundation focus on problems that benefit a lot of people to optimise his investments? I’m a single case so there’s not a lot of possibility that he’ll finance me.”
“You’re talking like your father,” Aizawa remarks. “Call him. That’s his personal number.”
“All Might’s personal number?” Izuku squeaks, staring at the note as if it’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen.
Shouto didn’t know it’s possible to be jealous of a piece of paper but here he is.
He waits until the Oxymel’s closed with only Izuku and Asui cleaning the tables to call All Might. He doesn’t really know what to say so Izuku’s written down a speech’s outline. It’s messy, with arrows indicating other ways to say the main idea, and part of the paper is smudged with tea. Still, he stares at it like it’s his lifeline as he calls the number. He hears his own heart pounding in his ears as it rings four times before the line’s picked up.
“All Might speaking.”
Shouto’s never liked Endeavor Enterprises because of the man who owns it, his own father. For Toshinori Yagi, however, he feels nothing but admiration.
“Yes. Yes,” Shouto repeats after clearing his throat. “I’m calling to…” He squints at Izuku’s writing but he only sees a jumble of letters mashed together. “I’m calling because…”
From across the coffee shop both Izuku and Asui watch him silently. Shouto’s tempted to beckon them over so they talk to All Might. Even if the man’s a person he respects, Shouto still despises phone calls. He’s much comfortable with writing than speaking.
“What’s your name, young man?”
His voice is warm, devoid of judgment. Shouto pictures All Might’s confident smile and takes a deep breath, regaining his poise.
“I’m Todoroki Shouto.”
“Todoroki? Enji’s son?”
“Yes. You know him?”
What a stupid question. Of course they knew each other since their companies were always pitted against each other. Shouto wants to hang up but All Might chirps up.
“It’s been a while since we chatted but yes, I’d say I know him. The last time we talked was during the gala One For All Enterprises organised for my departure. Were you there?”
“No, I wasn’t.” Shouto had been too busy studying for finals to go and besides, he had no interest in showing up to satisfy his father. “I apologise.”
“No need to, young Todoroki. What can I do for you?”
How to explain? All Might knew more than anyone just how wealthy Todoroki Enji was and Endeavor Enterprises were doing fine with no scandals shaking the company to decrease its benefits. Thus he could also deduce that Shouto’s father would have no trouble paying for psychiatric treatments but since Shouto was calling for him, then…
Shouto startles when Izuku snatches the phone from his hand.
“All Might, sir, my name’s Midoriya Izuku. I’m Shouto’s boyfriend and, sir, I admire you a lot and I want to be like you one day. I read all the articles talking about you, saw all your interviews and and I even have a figurine of you on my nightstand. What Shouto wants to ask is touchy because he’s currently cutting ties with Sat— with his father and uhm, his father will stop paying his mother’s treatments because he’s been doing it for Shouto’s sake only so now that they’re cutting ties, he doesn’t see the need to keep paying.”
“Shimoko-san?”
“Y-Yeah. Will you please help us?”
Shouto’s heart skipped a beat. Us. Without thinking he takes Izuku’s hand in his own, kissing it.
“Midoriya, my boy, you have a big heart. I’ll be glad to help you. I ask only one thing in return.” Shouto and Izuku held their breathing. “How did you get this number?”
“It’s Aizawa-san who gave it to us. We’re working in the Oxymel Café.”
“Oh, then I’ll make sure to come and see you.”
“We’d be honoured, All Might. I promise I’ll brew the best coffee in the world.”
Faithful to his word, Toshinori Yagi known as All Might crosses the coffee shop’s threshold on the next day as soon as the Oxymel opens.
And so does Todoroki Enji.
Both men stare at each other for a moment before All Might erupts in laughter, Enji offering him a sullen look. Shouto and Izuku watch their exchange like a pingpong match, altering between looking at the retired man and Endeavor Enterprises’ CEO.
“Enji, it’s been so long.”
“Not long enough, I assure you.”
All Might slaps his shoulder playfully but with enough force to make Enji stumble. “Don’t make jokes like this, it doesn’t suit you. Do you know what other joke I’ve heard recently? Apparently you’re planning to stop paying for Shimoko-san’s treatments?”
Enji’s eyes drift towards Shouto who’s rooted behind the counter, but All Might moves to block him from his sight. Even Izuku still steps in front of Shouto to shield him.
“That’s a very bad joke, Enji. You scared your son, you know?”
“My family is my business, Toshinori,” the other growls.
“I don’t want to meddle, believe me. It was just a joke after all, wasn’t it?”
Shouto peeks from behind All Might’s imposing stature to see his father’s grimace. He was cornered, with All Might forcing him to confess he wouldn’t stop his wife’s treatments and with Izuku as a witness of what he was about to say.
“It… was,” Enji finally admits through gritted teeth.
“I knew it was one. But if Shimoko-san needs anything, you Todorokis don’t hesitate to call me.”
It’s a veiled threat and everyone knows it. All Might laughs to dissipate the tension crackling in the Oxymel, one crushing hand squeezing Enji’s shoulder, his grip so strong Shouto thinks his father will crumble in a thousand pieces under such pressure.
In a way he wishes his father would.
“I’m offering you a drink,” All Might declares, gesturing towards the menu. “I don’t know what you take, Enji, but I’ll take a Green Eye.”
“G-Green Eye, sir?” Izuku gulps. “You do know it’s three espresso shots with coffee?”
“I’m aware of that, young Midoriya, but I’m a bit too fond of this drink.”
Shouto wants to laugh as he prepares the espresso shots. His father’s two shot espresso is pale in comparison of All Might’s ultimate caffeinated drink. Even when they weren’t rivalling CEO’s, All Might was still winning when it comes to coffee drinks.
“And you, sir?” Izuku asks Shouto’s father, smirking. “A Black Eye?”
Shouto’s never seen his father so torn before.
“The Green Eye looks… particularly intense but—”
“A Black Eye, Shouto,” Izuku singsongs as he trots away from the cash machine.
From the corner of his eye, Shouto sees All Might whisking his father away to a table far from them. He shakes his head, fighting against the chuckle bubbling in his throat.
“Told you a fund would work,” Izuku grins.
“What would I do without you?”
“You’d be really sad.”
“I would be heartbroken.”
But Shouto’s far from being heartbroken.
He’s the luckiest, happiest man alive.