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Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. With every tick of the clock, Enji felt his heart pound. He was aching a bit - being a pro hero for many years will do that to you, but it didn’t help that he’s been tensely sitting up completely straight with his hands clasped on his lap for... He wasn’t sure. He could check the clock, but he didn’t dare look away from the person sitting across from him, just in case they would somehow be gone when he looked back. They were slouched forward, their thumbs twiddling, their hair partially obscuring their face. Enji hadn’t seen Shouto in person in several years now, and he no idea what they were here for.
“Dad.” Enji’s fists clenched tightly, a nervous habit he’d picked up when he was young.
“Shouto.” Things were silent again for a minute. Shouto took a deep breath and sat up straighter, resting their hands on their lap.
“I’m going to get to the point.”
“Please do.” He didn’t think he could handle his mounting nerves, as happy as he was to see his child. Shouto sensed this was the case, rather than assuming that Enji meant he didn’t want to see them, as they would’ve thought when they were younger.
“I want you to go to therapy with me. Please.” Enji blinked, taken aback.
“Therapy? Me? Er... Shouto, I don’t really... do therapy.”
“Because of your image, right?” Enji winced despite the lack of an accusatory tone, but Shouto just smiled understandingly. “I imagine you must’ve grown up with such a stigma for you to be so against it, but... A lot of pro heroes go to therapy. I’ve been going for years, Midoriya goes, Bakugou... doesn’t go but he really should...” They shook their head and sighed. “And I want you to go. Everyone else in the family’s been going for a long time now, even Dabi, but you... You’re still refusing, huh?”
“Well, it’s...” Enji shook his head and gave a disbelieving scoff. “What- What is this all about, anyway? I told you that you didn’t have to talk to me anymore, and now you’re asking me to go to therapy with you? I...” He let out a shuddering sigh and rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his palms, then rested his hands on the table, his expression filled with shame. “I traumatized you terribly. The entire family. I’ll say it again. You, all of you, have absolutely no obligation to see me or speak to me, let alone try to help me.”
“Yes, you did say that. You even got that other house so we would have space away from you... but...” Shouto looked thoughtful for a few moments, then rested a hand on top of Enji’s. “After so much work on myself, and with all the support I have from my friends and family, I’m genuinely doing a lot better now. I’m in a place where... I can look back on everything that happened in a slightly different light, or rather...” They sighed in frustration and Enji lightly patted their hand, giving them a small smile.
“I know words are hard for you. You can take your time and be blunt.” Shouto smiled back and nodded.
“Basically, when I’m looking back, I’m able to see you more clearly. And I’m able to think... ‘Why were you like that? What made you like that?’ You’ve always been... so unhappy, all the time. You never got any enjoyment out of what you did, how you acted... I’m thinking... you’ve been hurting the whole time too. Over what, I have no idea. But I want to find out. I want to help you, now that I’m in a place mentally that I can. There’s no sense of obligation here. I just... care about you.“
“Shouto...” Enji blinked away tears, his hand shaking in Shouto’s.
Shouto held out their free hand, palm up. “Dad... Come with me. You deserve to heal, too.”
Enji stared at their hand for a long, long few moments, this time unable to prevent tears from gathering in his eyes. Hesitantly, slowly, he took his child’s outstretched hand. “You’re my child. You shouldn’t have to take care of me,” he murmured, to which Shouto just grinned at him.
“I don’t have to. I want to.” They squeezed Enji’s hand, as if to solidify and validate his decision to accept their help. Enji smiled and wiped his eyes with his other hand, squeezing Shouto’s hand in return.
“Fine... but if it’s too much, promise me you’ll take care of yourself. Put yourself first.”
“I promise. Now... Since I’m already over, how about buying me some lunch?” They both smiled and laughed together, and already, Enji felt different. Like things could be okay. Like he was allowed to seek help despite his past actions. Like maybe... he could heal.