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“I’m ho-ome.”
He said it aloud to no one in particular, Fuyumi still at school and his father at work. At least, that’s how it was every other day. That’s what he thought it was until the man stepped out of his office and Shouto felt his blood run cold.
“How was school?”
“Fine,” he said, his voice guarded. He wasn’t supposed to be home. He was always staying late, sometimes for days on end. There was no reason for him to be back unless--
“You have so many agencies that want you to intern with them after the sports festival. Have you decided on one?”
“...Not yet. There’s a lot to choose from.”
He made a noise deep in his throat. “Why do you feel the need to lie to me, Shouto?”
“I’m not--”
“I’m a pro hero with influence. Did you really think you could hide this from me?”
“Nothing’s been finalized yet--”
“But you didn’t choose my agency.”
He flinched at the tone. “I… thought I’d intern with someone who could give me experience in an area I don’t have much practice in.”
“You thought you’d run away and avoid using your fire again.”
Before he could protest there were fingers laced in his hair and he was being dragged down the hall. There was no point in struggling and he just grit his teeth against the pain in his skull.
“You may have a strong quirk but that's all you've got going for you… My quirk. Don’t think you can be some kind of hero without it. You have to train yourself and you can’t do that by running away again. Look at me when I’m talking to you!”
They’d reached the training hall and he stumbled as his father pushed him aside. The bright lights and the man’s quirk were too much and he just allowed himself to be shoved around. He was already so tired.
“You insist on this rebellion but without my fire you’re worthless!” he spat. “What kind of hero only uses ice?”
“Mom… Mom wanted to be a hero.”
“That woman was an imbecile for believing she could could become anything at all. I did the only thing I could and saved her all those years ago, and I’m trying to stop you from going down that path!”
“You broke her,” he snarled, “and now you’re trying to break me… but I won’t let you. I’m not going to follow this destiny you have planned!”
Enji grew silent and he ducked down, expecting a blow that never came.
“You’re like her in so many ways,” he said at last. “In all the wrong ways… Shall we lock you up and see what it does to you? Will you break down like she did? Or will you finally submit to my will?”
“Never.”
“Perhaps that scar on your face isn’t enough of a reminder. I’m the one in charge.”
His quirk flared up and Shouto swallowed thickly. “You don’t scare me.”
They were at a stalemate, neither of them willing to be the one to back down. Eventually Enji made a noise of disgust and stormed out of the hall. The boy got to his feet again and slunk off to his room.
You don’t scare me.
If only he knew how true those words were for the first time in his life. Shouto had a plan, something he’d been thinking about for awhile. He couldn’t continue to be his father’s tool. It just wasn’t an option.
He glanced at the newspaper clipping on his desk. It was an article about the League of Villains’ attack on the USJ and featured a picture of his class. Even wounded and scared, everyone seemed exhilarated and offered some kind of smile for the camera. He was going to miss them, but not even they could help him any more.
He heard the front door open and the familiar click of Fuyumi’s heels on the hardwood. He knew it was time.
It was astounding just how many bottles of pain medication they had in the bathroom. They were of varying strengths for all kinds of injuries. He grabbed two of the generic brand and uncapped the one with shaking hands. Nobody would miss them.
After taking a few he hesitated. Did he want to leave a note? No, he wouldn’t know what to say. It didn’t matter if it seemed selfish, the act in itself was. He was finally putting his own needs above everyone else’s.
With a mostly clear conscience he downed the rest of them, the chalky pills leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He didn’t feel any different afterwards but he knew it was to be expected. He’d done his research and he had a few hours.
“Shouto! Dinner!” his sister called.
He was going to eat one last dinner with what remained of his family. That’s what he had decided weeks ago when he started planning. He’d even asked Fuyumi to make cold soba so he could enjoy his last meal.
He took his usual seat at the table and kept his head down, quietly thanking Fuyumi as she set the bowl in front of him.
“Is everything alright? You seem… tense.”
“Not feeling well,” he mumbled.
“Probably from guilt,” Enji growled. His sister raised an eyebrow questioningly but didn’t say anything.
He tried to eat but could barely force himself to swallow. He briefly wondered how much of it was due to the mass of tablets dissolving in his stomach.
“You’ve barely touched your food,” Fuyumi said quietly. “Is it not good?”
“It’s wonderful. I’m just not very hungry.”
“If you mean to starve yourself as a means of defiance then you know what comes next,” their father sneered.
Frost coated his sister’s chopsticks. It must've taken every ounce of her self-control not to say anything if her quirk was behaving in such a way.
“I think I’m going to bed,” he said after a minute of uneasy silence.
“I’ll deal with you tomorrow,” he promised darkly.
No you won’t, he thought bitterly. “Night, ‘Yumi. I love you.”
“Shouto, are you sure you’re alright?”
“Just a little sick,” he said, and it was hard to fight back the tears.
“Love you too… Hope you feel better.”
As he climbed upstairs again the shivering set in and he locked the door, leaning against it. It’ll be over soon. I won’t have to deal with this much longer.
He stared at the notebook on his desk and found his body moving on its own. It’s not fair to them… They deserve to know why.
His hands shook as he wrote. Then the first wave of nausea hit him and he doubled over, the pen dropping from his hand. “No,” he mumbled, “not like this…”
Bile rose in his throat and he didn’t even have time to reach for the trash can before the retching started. He could see the half-digested tablets as it continued. Tears streamed down his cheeks and all he could focus on was how badly his throat burned.
It’s not supposed to hurt like this… It’s not going to work…
He wiped his mouth and fumbled at his desk, grabbing the small bottle he kept for emergencies.
I can’t fail. I can’t face everyone.
He could barely keep anything else down but he forced himself to swallow two at a time, just wanting it to be over already. He wanted it to stop hurting.
With the last of his strength he dragged himself to the bed and collapsed on it, knees curled to his chest and body shaking. The retching started again and he couldn’t even turn his head. “Fuyumi,” he whimpered, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry--”
He was interrupted as someone jiggled the knob. “Shouto? Please open the door, I’m worried about you. I swear I won’t tell dad if you did something you weren’t supposed to.”
“Go away,” he called, voice ragged. He fought against another wave to no avail and his stomach heaved.
“Shouto, what’s going on?”
“Just leave me alone!”
“Shouto!”
She managed to get the door open and the sight froze her in her tracks. Her brother curled up on his bed in a puddle of his own vomit. An empty pill bottle on the floor. A half written note.
Her body moved on its own and she grabbed him, shaking him violently. His eyes were glassy and she could barely find a pulse. “No… No! Shouto, wake up, please! Please…”
He was vaguely aware of the fact that he’d been moved. When his eyes refocused he found himself in Fuyumi’s lap, the girl sobbing. The last thing he heard before his vision faded was her scream.
His eyes fluttered open and he gasped for breath, an oxygen mask covering most of his face. His first thought was that his throat felt like it had been scrubbed down with sandpaper. His second was that by being able to feel pain, he’d failed.
That nearly sent him into a panic but a rough set of hands pushed him back down. “Calm down. Can you tell me your name?” the woman asked firmly.
She had pointed ears poking out of her hair and he watched them twitch as she waited for an answer. “Shouto…”
“Okay Shouto, I need you to tell me some basic information about yourself. When’s your birthday and how old are you?”
“January eleventh… I’m sixteen.”
“Very good. Can you tell me what medicine you took?”
The lights hurt his eyes and he tried to close them but she lightly smacked his cheek.
“C’mon, look at me! Look at me! What did you take?”
He was so tired and everything hurt. Why couldn’t it have just worked? He didn’t want to face anyone… He just wanted to die. Why was it so hard?
Everything went dark again.
He didn’t want to open his eyes. It would mean waking up for the day and he wasn’t ready to do that. His dream had been so nice… He was finally going to be free from his father’s grasp. The steady beeping of his alarm wouldn’t let him go back to sleep and he groaned.
I don’t have an alarm.
He blinked away some of the dream fog and found himself in an unfamiliar room. What he’d mistaken for an alarm was a heart rate monitor connected to the band around his wrist.
What?
Instead of the familiar pale green walls of his room he was greeted with harsh off white and the lingering smell of antiseptic in the air. His sister was sleeping in an uncomfortable looking chair by the door. The frost coating the armrests sent a pang of guilt throughout him. He tried to call out to her but his throat ached and no sounds came out.
He shook his head to clear it and found a bracelet on his other wrist bearing his name, date of birth, two numbers he didn’t recognize, and the name of a doctor.
He was in a hospital and didn’t know why. And why did his stomach and throat hurt so much?
He didn’t get a chance chance to think things through before his father entered the small room. His quirk wasn’t activated but the fire in his eyes rivaled his flames, and before he could say anything Shouto found a hand wrapped in the thin robe. Immediately the heart rate monitor spiked and any lingering fog in his head vanished.
“You’re as much of a failure as the rest,” Enji hissed. “I should take care of you right now and just--”
“No!” Fuyumi cried. “Don’t hurt him anymore, please.”
Enji sneered and let go, and Shouto slid down in the bed. “‘Yumi,” he whispered. “Don’t cry.”
“We thought you were dead.”
Two people in white coats rushed in, the one escorting his family out while the other fiddled with the still beeping machine.
“Your father seems to be quite fired up, even when he’s not doing hero work,” the man said.
Shouto didn’t answer, too busy calming his racing heart.
“A poor attempt at humor. My name is Doctor Kubo and I’ll be treating you while you’re here. How are you feeling today, Shouto?”
“...Why am I here?”
“Interesting. What’s the last thing you remember?”
He frowned. “Dinner last night. My sister made soba for me but I wasn’t feeling good. I… I don’t remember what happened. I think I took a few pills because my head hurt.”
“It was more than a few. We found nearly a quarter bottle’s worth in your stomach, and your sister tells us there was considerably more on your floor after you got sick. Why would you take so many?”
He swallowed thickly, the persistent ache in his throat beginning to make sense. “I wanted to… to kill myself, I think. But I stopped after those first few… right?”
The doctor’s gaze softened. “We nearly lost you, Shouto. Why would you try to take your own life?”
“I didn’t. I only took a few!”
“There’s no need to get upset.”
It was suddenly hard to breathe. It was just a dream. I didn’t do anything! I got scared and gave up!
Fuyumi’s words rang in his head. We thought you’d died. He remembered feeling as though his throat were on fire and the empty bottle on the floor.
“I… I went through with it.”
“Why? What made you feel that there was no hope for the future?”
You insist on this rebellion but without my fire you’re worthless!
“...My father.”
“Perhaps this is a discussion for another day, hmm? It was nice to see you when you were awake,” he said, offering a smile. “I’ll check on you later.”
His world seemed to crash around him. I went through with it and Fuyumi found me… She called the ambulance. What did he do? Why can’t I remember anything?
His head ached and he knew he wouldn’t be sleeping well.
“How are you feeling today, Shouto?”
The question seemed to follow him everywhere he went, whether it was nurses, doctors, or therapists asking. In retaliation he always answered the same way.
“Why am I here?”
“You know why, and by asking you’re only extending your stay. Are you finally willing to talk about yourself today?”
He blinked slowly, staring at the woman in front of him. Doctor Hana was definitely one of the better staff members but she was so concerned with his personal life.
“You claim to want to get out of here but every refusal to answer my questions only prolongs your time here.”
“My past isn’t important,” he said lowly.
“If I recall correctly you told Doctor Kubo you tried to take your own life because of your father.”
He flinched. “It’s not important.”
She sighed and shook her head. “This is supposed to help you, Shouto, but you won’t open up to me. How am I supposed to help if you won’t talk?”
“I don’t need help.”
“Don’t need or don’t want?”
“Both! I mean--!”
“We want to see you get out of here just as much as you, but for that to happen you have to trust us. That means opening up to us.”
He slunk down in the uncomfortable plastic chair. “I… I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Can’t!” he snapped. “...And won’t.”
She sighed. “If you’re not going to talk then I’m cutting this session short again. Try to think of a way past this for tomorrow.”
He kept his head down and watched out of the corner of his eye as she left. Only then did he get up and grab a sheet of paper. His hands shook and the script was jagged as he wrote.
get out i want to get out i need to get out get away from him and everything hes done get away from her get away from them i need to get away i dont want this i dont want to live he hurts me i dont want to hurt anymore i want it to be over why didnt it work why cant it just end
He didn’t realize he was crying until the tears stained the page. He tried to ignite his hand and he swore. Quirk suppressants. Of course they were being given quirk suppressants. They were deemed a danger to themselves and others.
He shoved the paper in the trash, making sure to bury it under other things. He didn’t know how crazy the staff was, and whether they’d go digging through his garbage or not. He still hiccupped quietly and got into bed, pulling the sheets up over his face.
“I want to go home,” he mumbled.
He must’ve fallen asleep because he woke up to someone knocking on the door. Any lingering tiredness disappeared as he saw his sister.
“Fuyumi!”
Somehow she looked even worse than he did. Her dark circles had gotten worse in a matter of days and she sported a limp. Even so she broke into a grin when she saw him.
“I-I’ve been so worried but they wouldn’t let me in until today and--”
“It’s okay. I’m okay.”
Tears filled her eyes and she held him close. “Why would you…?”
He scowled. “You know why.”
“Doing what you did isn’t some kind of solution! The things he said when you were gone…”
“What?” he demanded. “What’d he do to you?”
“I-It’s nothing. Just focus on getting better and getting out of here.”
“Don’t try to hide this from me! He obviously hurt you, you’re limping!”
“Please don’t worry about me.”
He made a noise deep in his throat. Normally he’d take his anger out on a punching bag but he couldn’t even do that. He weakly kicked at the trash can and papers spilled everywhere. Fuyumi instinctively started to pick things up and his heart seemed to stop as she found his note from earlier.
I should’ve torn it to pieces when I had the chance.
She read it twice before looking looking up at him. “You said you were okay,” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes.
“Fuyumi, please--”
“You have to talk about this. I know you’re not… I wouldn’t either. But you can’t keep this all in your head!”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It’s going to kill you!” she cried. The look on her face immediately after and he knew she wished she could take the words back. “I didn’t mean--”
He sighed and picked up the rest of the paper. “...I’ll talk to them, no matter how hard it is. I promise. Please don’t cry.”
“I just want you to get better and come home.”
“Me too.”
He’d forgotten how intimidating the manor looked from the outside.
“I’m ho-ome.”
Fuyumi gave an exasperated sigh, though she still smiled.
The house was quiet. No, the house was always quiet. The house seemed comforting for once. Their father hadn’t been home in a week, under strict instructions to stay away from Shouto or risk losing his hero license and face criminal charges.
The boy started towards his room but his sister cleared her throat. “You’re not allowed out of my sight for awhile.”
He didn’t bother protesting. “I’ll grab my things and come right back down. I promise.”
Before she could argue he hurried upstairs. So little had changed but everything still felt foreign. A new comforter on his bed, papers on his desk organized, his closet open… He didn’t even have to check to know that the medicine cabinet had been cleared out. It was to be expected but he still felt hurt.
He grabbed his pillow and a book and made his way back downstairs, settling into the couch. Only then did Fuyumi leave him alone.
It became a habit as the days went on. He slept on the couch and she in the recliner. They ate together. He spent his days reading or watching the news. Only after a week did she trust him enough to go back to work, and only because they were scraping the bottom of their savings.
It was strange to suddenly be on his own again. He didn’t realize how much he appreciated Fuyumi’s company until she was gone.
The news seemed focused on the League of Villains’ antics and he’d finished his book the day before. He briefly debated going into town to get a new one but knew he’d get caught somehow.
Just as he thought boredom might be the thing to kill him there was a knock at the door.
Fuyumi has a key… and isn’t due back for a few hours. It’s not like we ever get visitors…
Curiosity outweighed cautiousness and he slowly got up. Of all the things he expected to see, a confused looking Kaminari wasn’t one of them. A good majority of his class stood behind the boy, and breathed a sigh of relief as his father didn’t answer the door.
“Can I… help you?”
“You haven’t been in school so we brought you your work,” Yaoyorozu said hurriedly. “And some get well soon cards.”
He took everything from Iida and glanced at the clock in the hall. “My sister isn’t off work for a few hours. Would you like to come in?”
That’s how he found himself in the main room with his classmates, sitting back on the couch and awkwardly gesturing to many of the empty chairs. Finally they relaxed and he shut off the television.
They still all wore similar expressions and he sighed. “You can ask.”
“Is it true you tried to kill yourself?”
The question came from Sero of all people and he was surprised. “...Yes.”
“Why?” they chorused.
“Do you truly want to know? It’s a long story, and not a pleasant one either.”
Nobody moved and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “As you all know, my father is the number two hero Endeavor. What people don’t know is that he’s willing to do anything and pay anyone to get ahead of All Might… even if his methods aren’t the most ethical. My mother is a victim of those methods and was forced into a quirk marriage. My siblings and I are the products of that.”
A quiet murmur spread throughout the room and he waited for everyone to settle down again. Iida and Yaoyorozu looked ready to explode out of anger. Midoriya simply kept his head down, having heard it all before.
He told them of the training he’d endured and how he’d gotten his scar. The girls could barely stand to listen at that. Most importantly he told them of his destiny, and how even his attending Yuuei had been planned out by his father. He was trapped in a predetermined fate and his only means of rebellion was to reject the man’s power.
“Even after the sports festival I refused to use my left side. He saw an opportunity to remind me of my place and I figured the only way out of this fate was to… remove myself from it entirely.”
Someone’s breath caught and he didn’t realize he was there were tears in his eyes until Yaoyorozu created a box of tissues for him.
“Why didn’t you come to us?” Midoriya asked when he was done, barely more than a whisper.
“...I figured not even you could help me,” he said at last. “I’m glad I was wrong.”
There was no proper way to respond to that and they were only saved as the front door opened. Fuyumi didn’t say anything as she took in the crowd of teenagers in her house but hung up her coat and nodded slowly. “Can I get anyone something to eat?”
She was met with more silence and Shouto coughed lightly. “I’m a little tired, so--”
“It’s time for us to go,” Iida said quickly. “We hope to see you in class again soon. Even Aizawa-sensei has been acting differently and everyone is concerned.”
He lead them out and thanked them for coming. They still seemed hesitant to leave but whispered words from their class representative had them on their way.
He joined Fuyumi on the couch and she offered him a taiyaki biscuit. “They really care about you,” she mused.
He grabbed the stack of cards and flipped through them. Sero’s seemed to be held together with his tape and he chuckled. “Looks like it.”
They sat in silence, looking over the cards before she suddenly hugged him. “Please stay here with us.”
He returned the embrace. “I will. I promise.”