Archive of Our Own ^beta

This was where his son had been trapped.

Todoroki Enji looked around at the inn. He remembered signing a permission form for Shouto to attend a training retreat here, in the woods. The location had been chosen for the sake of secrecy. What had once been a fairly large inn, Enji saw, was now a dilapidated building on the verge of falling apart. He had seen the photos, included in the permission paperwork. That trip had been less than a month ago – it should not have had time to fall into disrepair of this level. Behind him, loud and cocky as always, Hawks was speaking to one of the others they had brought along.

Once the students had been brought back home, they and their teacher had reported in about what had happened.

A team of Pro Heroes had been put together to make certain that the cause of all the trouble wasn’t a villain, hiding in the woods. Hallucinations, sleepwalking, sensory faults – all of those could be the work of a villain. Or it simply could have been something in the trees.

Or perhaps the paint of an old building.

Enji scoffed under his breath, walking up the steps to the front of the inn and looking back at the others. Hawks had volunteered once Enji had confirmed that he would be going. Miruko seemed to have followed along for, in her own words, the fun of it. Fatgum at least was somewhat responsible, from what Enji knew. He had worked with the police before switching over to a hero’s career path. Eraserhead had come with them as well, acting as both a witness and another set of eyes. “This was where you stayed?” he asked of his son’s teacher.

Eraserhead nodded, his goggles perched on top of his head. For a moment, Enji saw something different.

A trick of the light. Perhaps something to do with the sun heading towards its highest point in the sky.

The features of the man in front of him had seemed to shift, briefly.

“It did not look like this,” Eraserhead muttered. “I don’t know how it changed this quickly, but it looked fresher. Cleaner.” He moved to Enji’s side, running a hand along the frame of the door, narrowing his eyes as he looked around again. As far as team-up selections went, Enji figured this was a decent one. Offensive, mainly, with Eraserhead present to quell any unpleasant Quirks they might come across. If there were villains in these woods, trying to hide, then they would find them. Eraserhead put his hand on the door and pushed it open.

For a moment, an odd glint on his finger caught Enji’s attention. He brushed it off quickly.

Hawks was at his side in a moment, the instant Enji crossed the threshold of the building. His wings flapped gently, an indicator of him having used them to catch up. Miruko bounding along after them, holding the door for Fatgum with a laugh.

The building was worse inside.

Enji felt his nose wrinkle as he smelled mildew and rot. The floor was half-rotted around them, mostly contained to the walls. “This is where you had them staying?”

“This is what this place looks like now, this is not what it looked like then,” Eraserhead leveled a stare at him, eyebrows raised up. “If this is the work of a group of villains, then they have someone who can alter the state of the wood. Speed up the decay of it.” He pulled out his phone, swiping through quickly and offering it to Enji to see. A photo of his class – Shouto stood at the back, one of the tallest. “This photo was taken as proof that they were all with us when we arrived at the inn. There have been too many incidents of my students being attacked and split off from the group.”

“Smart, that,” Fatgum peered at the photo as well. “Ah, Kirishima looked happy in this!”

Eraserhead smiled, just for a moment, and Enji resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He did cross his arms over his chest, however, and stared at the rest of the group as they wandered into a different topic for a moment. Fatgum was the overseeing Pro that one of Eraserhead’s students had been handed off to. “Aww, Endeavor, don’t worry about it,” Hawks’ voice was his usual laid-back and almost sarcastic tone as he patted Enji’s arm. “What happened here was weird – and they’re both teachers to a couple of the kids that were at risk during it.”

“We have a mission to be getting to,” Enji huffed the words out, ignoring the bubble of something the moved through him when Hawks’ hand landed on his arm. “We don’t have time for –”

“For a couple of teachers who were worried over their students?” Hawks raised an eyebrow, then shrugged and tucked his hands into his pockets. “Eraserhead was here when it was happening. Whatever happened, whatever caused the hallucinations, he was as much a victim of it as the kids were. Tokoyami even was a bit freaked out.” He grinned. “Gotta remember the details, Endeavor. He’s a Pro, like us, so we’re used to thinking of him as just a coworker, not as a witness and an information source. If Present Mic hadn’t been so busy, he’d be here too.”

Enji pressed his lips together.

Hawks was right.

As much as he hated to admit it, the younger hero was right.

When the class had come back, Eraserhead had apparently hesitated about reporting whatever had happened. Something about extenuating circumstances. Things they had seen.

Word had gotten to Enji, he had been asked to put together a team to go investigate and make certain it was whatever Eraserhead thought it was. He was still somewhat unclear on the timeline of events that night. All he knew was that Shouto had come to visit him at his agency and been different than he had been. He’d actually smiled, at one point. Enji hadn’t seen his son smile in his presence for an age.

“You’re right,” Enji admitted quietly.

Hawks’ smile was bright, a shade truer than his usual photo-perfect grin. “There we go.”

He shrugged, his wings twitching slightly as he took a few steps away and peered up the stairs to the second level. “This place is bigger than I thought it would be,” he raised both eyebrows, his mouth hanging open a little. “Miruko?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Miruko bounded up the stairs, watching where her feet landed with every step. “Stairs are intact. Safe to go up – just be careful. Stick to the sides. Endeavor and Fatgum especially. Hawks, you might just want to flap a few times and stick to the railings. It seems sturdy but it could drop at any point. We don’t know the structural integrity, we don’t fully trust it,” she stepped back from the stairs, resting her fists on her hips. “But I think it should be safe enough to get up.” She watched as Eraserhead moved towards her. Her eyes were pinned to the places he set his feet. “That’s probably good.”

“This was a functional inn less than a month ago,” Eraserhead sighed. “What happened?”

Enji turned to follow them.

Before he could move, he felt a flash of heat at his back, the sound of a scream catching just at the edge of his awareness. Heat burned into his face, his breath catching in his throat. When he opened his eyes – when had he closed them? – Hawks and Fatgum were watching him. Hawks’ golden eyes were open wide and pinned to Enji’s face. Fatgum had a hand raised, like he’d reached out to help.

But Enji could only focus on Eraserhead.

The other Pro Hero was looking at him with a serious expression on his face, a hand on the railing at the top of the stairs. His mouth was pressed into a solid line, his eyes held carefully open. His knuckles were white.

Enji opened his mouth and Eraserhead nodded.

Whatever had just happened, he knew. Enji stared at him as he turned to Miruko, gesturing down one of the hallways and nodding. “I am going to go down this way. I would recommend that Endeavor and Fatgum investigate the lower levels. I suspect, if there are villains camping out in this building, they would stay down on the floor more likely to be safe. Hawks?” he looked at the blond man and gestured to Miruko. “Stay with her or one of the others. Support and a secondary fighter.”

Both Hawks and Miruko nodded.

Enji felt a little lost but he went along with the plan. Eraserhead was right, after all – if the building was in disrepair like this, then the upper floors were likely to be untrustworthy as far as bearing weight went. Enji barely realized it when Hawks moved to walk at his side as he began to explore the lower floor of the building. Him and Fatgum exploring the lower levels was also a decent take of the situation. Offensive fighting was his particular specialization. Fatgum was a solid barrier, able to stop attacks as they happened. He just…Absorbed it.

Any attackers would be unlikely to get past them and into the upper floor, where Eraserhead and Miruko were looking.

“Are you alright?” Hawks asked once they were far enough away from the others that they wouldn’t be overheard. “That looked like it didn’t feel good, whatever it was.”

“It did not,” Enji sighed.

“Migraine?”

“Enough, Hawks,” he let the words come out softer than usual. There was something about Hawks that made his defenses drop, something that made his chest ache. He didn’t know what it was or how to identify it, but there was something about the younger man.

“Alright.” Hawks shrugged, lapsing back into silence. He managed to lose a solid three minutes before he spoke up again, the silence apparently bothering him. “So I didn’t get the full briefing about the history of this place. I know your kid got pulled into something here, along with his classmates, but I’m still not sure about what else was happening.” He was studying a portion of the wall when Enji looked over at him, his hands tucked into his pockets. “I didn’t catch the full history of this place.”

“An old fishing village,” Enji peered out a window, towards the forest. “On the other side of that section of trees.”

(Something was coming)

“There was a samurai. He drank himself to death. There were other odds deaths that no one could place as natural,” Enji turned back to see Hawks. “A hanging, in particular. A young man hanged himself off the village watchtower. There were others, though Eraserhead told me more about it than I knew – I believe it was mentioned in a history lesson when I was in school.”

Hawks moved to the window as well and Enji stepped back to let him. “So you learned about this place…What, thirty-five years ago?”

“Briefly,” Enji looked away from the riotous mass of blond hair that was practically shoved in his face. “Barely even a footnote in our lessons.”

He blinked a couple of times, shaking his head.

(You dropped your guard. The danger got in.)

“This inn alone seems ancient,” Hawks ran a finger along the windowsill, frowning. He stepped back and turned to look up, meeting Enji’s eyes. His cheeks were a little pink, like he was overheating, but Enji couldn’t unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth to say anything about it. “I think I want to go take a look at the actual village. Eraserhead did say that was where some of the weirder things happened. One of his students fell into the water or something,” he shrugged, dusting off his hands and grinning. “Just something to look at, I guess.”

“I suppose,” Enji managed to speak, just for a moment.

“Are you okay?”

(He hadn’t been okay for a long time – he had failed in his duties)

Enji closed his eyes, just for a second. His head was aching, his vision spinning. Putting a hand to his forehead, Enji shoved his hair out of the way and waited for the world to stop being so dizzying. He dropped to his knees, feeling the ground almost intimately as he touched down.

The grass was cold and wet.

“Shouto?” Enji lifted his head and called out weakly –

(The fire, the fire had taken so much from him. His wife, their eldest, nearly their second-born son.)

His hands shook as he coughed on the phantom scent of burning wood. Screams echoed in the back of his mind – Himiko, the daughter of a noble, had nearly died in the fire. Her brother had managed to save her.

The sun was beginning to set, darkness creeping in around the edges of the village.

Enji let out a shaking breath, pressing the palms of his hands into the ground. The earth below him was soft and cold, letting him sink in slowly.

X

There was nothing good about this situation.

Hawks rubbed angrily at his cheek, cuffing away the smell welling of blood that he found there. “There’s only so many places he could be, Eraser, what the fuck?” he looked at the teacher, his eyes narrowing. “I seriously only turned around for a second, how the hell did he disappear like that? I was in the middle of talking to him and suddenly he was gone.”

“Did he act differently at all?”

“I mean,” Hawks groaned, sighing. “He started acting a little out of it when we were sweeping the bottom floor?”

“How so?” Eraserhead was staring at him, his capture weapon partially unwound and in his hands. Miruko was charging ahead of them, making certain they had a cleared path to where Eraserhead swore that he and his students had ended up last time. “Was it like he was suddenly distracted, he was talking about something that didn’t make sense, or he just stopped responding and walked off?” he glanced away, looking back at Fatgum. “Trust me, there are differences.”

“What exactly happened to you and your students out here?” Fatgum was frowning. It was the first time Hawks had seen the man do anything other than smile.

Eraserhead clenched his jaw. “Miruko,” he called out to her as he came to a stop.

Miruko doubled back to join them. “Yeah?”

“What happened to us, last time,” Eraserhead took a deep breath. “Is something that will live in my deepest nightmares for some time. The village has a reputation for being haunted. It earns it honestly. Umizoi no mura is the official name of this place,” he gestured through the trees, frustration clear on his face. “But according to what folklore my students could dig up, it was renamed Chūkū no mura. The hauntings are not, however, what caused the rash of odd deaths.” Eraserhead wrapped his capture weapon back around himself, shaking his head. “Those were what caused the hauntings, not the other way around.”

“…Why are you talking about it like you know firsthand?” Fatgum spoke up first. Hawks wanted to ask the same question, his mouth betraying him and refusing to open.

“The local samurai was murdered. His son was murdered as well. I don’t know why, just yet,” Eraserhead closed his eyes and Hawks wanted to start running. Endeavor was out there. Alone. Left to face whatever was happening. Because Hawks hadn’t been careful enough to keep an eye on him. “There were a couple of young men – barely of age – who died after that as well. A boy hanged himself off the watchtower. Another death was one who, when he realized his lover wasn’t coming home, threw himself off the dock into the water. He couldn’t swim. A young man disappeared, as well. The brother of the one who hanged himself.” Eraserhead looked at Fatgum, taking a deep breath before opening his eyes. “I’m talking about it like I know about it firsthand because of what happened the last time I was here. Endeavor did not believe me – or maybe he didn’t fully understand.”

“About what?” Hawks clenched his hands, leaning into Miruko when she put her hand on his shoulder. Of everyone he knew, she was the only one who he’d told about how he felt for Endeavor. Even the Commission had no idea.

“When I was here last, several of my students got possessed,” Eraserhead gestured towards the trees. “The remains of the village collapsed, or so I thought. There are ghosts attached to the buildings. I witnessed them. If I had not seen them with my own eyes, I would not have believed it.” Tucking his hands in his pockets, Eraserhead chewed on the inside of his lip for a moment. “Endeavor’s son was one of the ones possessed.”

“This sounds…Insane.” Miruko had a look on her face that Hawks recognized, her nose wrinkling. She wasn’t sure she believed the story. If it had come from someone else, she would have been outright accusing him of lying.

“I know,” Eraserhead snorted. “Trust me, I am very aware.”

He pulled one of his hands, his left, out and held it out to show them. “The ring I’m wearing. The last time I was here, it showed up in my bag after I helped put ghosts to rest. And…” he seemed to hesitate. In the time it took for him to begin speaking again, Hawks somehow already knew what he was going to say. He didn’t know how he knew, but he did. “They weren’t just ghosts—”

“—They were past lives,” Hawks finished the sentence with him.

Jolting, Miruko whipped around to look at him, frowning. “Hawks?”

A wave of heat flashed through Hawks. It wasn’t embarrassment or anything he normally felt when he thought of Endeavor. Not the feelings he kept on lock until he was alone. This was heat – like fire. Like something burning down into ash. Hot enough to kill, hot enough to destroy. “There was a fire…” he muttered.

“It killed the wife and eldest son of the samurai,” Eraserhead nodded. “It left him in mourning. From what I know, he turned into an overprotective bastard with no reasoning and no kindness. He kept his son inside and both of them ended up dead.” Even as he spoke, Hawks knew that wasn’t right. That wasn’t how the story had gone. There was something inside him telling him that the words didn’t match up. The samurai hadn’t turned into an evil and miserable bastard – that was wrong. “His youngest son was the lover of the boy who hanged himself.”

“Shouto and Midoriya,” Hawks felt himself saying the names without much input from his brain. “That’s why Shouto acts different now.”

They’d found each other again.

Hawks froze.

He’d spent so long training that voice out. The Commission had forced him to work on training it out until it was gone. It had always been there, as a kid. “Shouto started dating Midoriya. Endeavor doesn’t know yet, I think. Tokoyami confirmed it when I asked. I haven’t told Endeavor.” Eraserhead was watching him, eyes narrowed. There was something in his expression that Hawks recognized, something that tugged at a part of his mind.

“Come on,” Eraserhead waved for them to follow again. “We need to keep moving.”

Hawks followed quickly, stumbling from how fast he moved to stand at Eraserhead’s side. The older hero knew something, he could tell. Or maybe he suspected something. Fatgum followed a little slower, looking around nervously. Hawks could feel when Miruko stepped close to him, keeping pace at his side despite the fact that he knew she would outpace the gods themselves if left to her own walking pattern. She had long legs and no patience for walking slowly. He smiled when she looked at him, when she reached out and clutched his hand so tightly in her own that it felt almost like it was going to break.

The trees thinned out and Hawks looked around to see what was left.

“The watchtower collapsed when I was here, last time,” Eraserhead patted the crumbled wood almost affectionately. “Midoriya tried hanging himself in an echo of what he’d done before. One of the other students stopped him. Shouto is how we found out that his lover hadn’t come back because he’d been murdered. The village found out about his death and thought – or they were told – that it was a suicide. The news wasn’t spread until after the hanging.”

“You’ve actually managed to put together a timeline?” Fatgum was frowning again, his hands twitching at his sides.

“Somewhat,” Eraserhead turned to him. “It’s a little difficult. Different people have different memories. My students each have different information. I have had to piece together the timeline from the various things they all remember. Kirishima’s grave is that way,” he pointed off in another direction, different than the one they had come from. “His lover was stabbed and dragged there to die. The brother of the hanged boy, who everyone thought had disappeared. No one visited the grave, anymore. Kirishima’s past didn’t have a family after the battle he’d fought in.”

“She lost both of her sons,” Hawks whispered. “In the span of three days.”

Everyone stopped.

Miruko laughed. He could tell she was nervous. “Hawks?”

“…I need to go,” Hawks shook his head. “I need – there’s somewhere I have to go.” The heat was pressing at his back, burning so fiercely he wasn’t sure how he wasn’t in pain. “The fire took out most of the servant’s quarters, they didn’t…They didn’t all make it out.”

Her hands were cold compared to the heat he felt but Hawks barely even flinched when Miruko forcefully clapped her hands on his cheeks. “Hawks, would you fucking look at me?” she looked afraid for the first time in a long, long time. “Hawks,” her breath caught and she shifted, just slightly. “What are you talking about? How does it fit into this?” she jerked her head in the direction of Eraserhead, who was staring at Hawks. “The fuck do you mean, ‘they didn’t all make it out’?” her nerves seemed to be melting into anger.

“Several of my students told me about a fire,” Eraserhead spoke up again. “It took out a portion of the home of the samurai, as well as some of his family. I have not spoken to any of them who were so attached to it as you seem to be.”

Hawks closed his eyes.

“The fire took out the servants' quarters,” he spoke quietly. “I—”

The fire had scarred his back.

There were those who said that the Lord of their village could not protect them any longer. Not when he had lost his own family to a fire. K̵̵̡̛̳͇͖̠̭̜ͣ̿͒̐̄͝e͛͊̐̎ͯ̆̔ï̶̧͎̖̝̬̼̼̥͎̬̫͎͍̬͖̝̖̦̭̤͆̿̔ͮ̔̑̎̽̍̎́ͩͪ̋̉̽̓̕͟ġ̽̈́̎͒̇̌̌̈͜ọ̡̡̥̜̈̈́̄ͣ had never believed that. Tanaka Enji protected them well. That had been a pointed attack, an attempt to destroy the whole bloodline.

The loss of his eldest son weighed heavily on the man.

K̵̵̡̛̳͇͖̠̭̜ͣ̿͒̐̄͝e͛͊̐̎ͯ̆̔ï̶̧͎̖̝̬̼̼̥͎̬̫͎͍̬͖̝̖̦̭̤͆̿̔ͮ̔̑̎̽̍̎́ͩͪ̋̉̽̓̕͟ġ̽̈́̎͒̇̌̌̈͜ọ̡̡̥̜̈̈́̄ͣ had never felt as safe as he did when he was in the presence of the samurai. Even with the loss of his wife and son, Tanaka-san still held his head up. Behind closed doors, he drank more but he was as strong as ever. This was K̵̵̡̛̳͇͖̠̭̜ͣ̿͒̐̄͝e͛͊̐̎ͯ̆̔ï̶̧͎̖̝̬̼̼̥͎̬̫͎͍̬͖̝̖̦̭̤͆̿̔ͮ̔̑̎̽̍̎́ͩͪ̋̉̽̓̕͟ġ̽̈́̎͒̇̌̌̈͜ọ̡̡̥̜̈̈́̄ͣ’s first time being back in service to his Lord since the fire. He had been one of the most injured but still alive ones – his entire back looked like he had been close to death, but he was fine.

Bringing the Lord his food was important. Enforcing his eating habits was a necessity.

“Tanaka-san?” K̵̵̡̛̳͇͖̠̭̜ͣ̿͒̐̄͝e͛͊̐̎ͯ̆̔ï̶̧͎̖̝̬̼̼̥͎̬̫͎͍̬͖̝̖̦̭̤͆̿̔ͮ̔̑̎̽̍̎́ͩͪ̋̉̽̓̕͟ġ̽̈́̎͒̇̌̌̈͜ọ̡̡̥̜̈̈́̄ͣ knocked on the door, waiting. He was called in after a moment, the man sitting at his kotatsu, a drinking cup held between his hands. He did not seem to be drinking from it, the liquid inside at the same level K̵̵̡̛̳͇͖̠̭̜ͣ̿͒̐̄͝e͛͊̐̎ͯ̆̔ï̶̧͎̖̝̬̼̼̥͎̬̫͎͍̬͖̝̖̦̭̤͆̿̔ͮ̔̑̎̽̍̎́ͩͪ̋̉̽̓̕͟ġ̽̈́̎͒̇̌̌̈͜ọ̡̡̥̜̈̈́̄ͣ knew the maids poured it to. “I’ve brought you your dinner,” he kneeled down to present the food to him, bowing his head. He had been a servant for the Tanaka family since he was a child, he knew where he could push the boundaries. Enji-san had always allowed him a little more to work with.

“I am not hungry,” Enji-san turned his head away, his hands clenching tighter around his cup.

“But you must eat,” K̵̵̡̛̳͇͖̠̭̜ͣ̿͒̐̄͝e͛͊̐̎ͯ̆̔ï̶̧͎̖̝̬̼̼̥͎̬̫͎͍̬͖̝̖̦̭̤͆̿̔ͮ̔̑̎̽̍̎́ͩͪ̋̉̽̓̕͟ġ̽̈́̎͒̇̌̌̈͜ọ̡̡̥̜̈̈́̄ͣ smiled for him. “You still have your children. Your daughter is well. Your two sons—”

“If I had warned them, perhaps they would have survived.”

“…What?”

“My wife,” Enji-san took a sip of his drink, closing his eyes at the taste. “And my son. If I had warned them, spoken to them of the threats I had been receiving, perhaps they would have lived. I had thought I had done the correct thing, the right thing.” He threw back the entire cup of drink, sake from the smell, and K̵̵̡̛̳͇͖̠̭̜ͣ̿͒̐̄͝e͛͊̐̎ͯ̆̔ï̶̧͎̖̝̬̼̼̥͎̬̫͎͍̬͖̝̖̦̭̤͆̿̔ͮ̔̑̎̽̍̎́ͩͪ̋̉̽̓̕͟ġ̽̈́̎͒̇̌̌̈͜ọ̡̡̥̜̈̈́̄ͣ watched as he swallowed it. He didn’t know how much Enji-san had imbibed, didn’t know how long he had been sitting alone and burying himself in sorrow.

But there was something he could do.

Leaving the food on the table, K̵̵̡̛̳͇͖̠̭̜ͣ̿͒̐̄͝e͛͊̐̎ͯ̆̔ï̶̧͎̖̝̬̼̼̥͎̬̫͎͍̬͖̝̖̦̭̤͆̿̔ͮ̔̑̎̽̍̎́ͩͪ̋̉̽̓̕͟ġ̽̈́̎͒̇̌̌̈͜ọ̡̡̥̜̈̈́̄ͣ stood up and moved around it. He offered a hand to Enji-san, smiling. “How about we get you to bed, Tanaka-san?” he helped the man to his feet, curling under his arm to support him. Enji-san followed willingly, docile for once, and K̵̵̡̛̳͇͖̠̭̜ͣ̿͒̐̄͝e͛͊̐̎ͯ̆̔ï̶̧͎̖̝̬̼̼̥͎̬̫͎͍̬͖̝̖̦̭̤͆̿̔ͮ̔̑̎̽̍̎́ͩͪ̋̉̽̓̕͟ġ̽̈́̎͒̇̌̌̈͜ọ̡̡̥̜̈̈́̄ͣ nudged him to his quarters. Since the fire, his bed and blankets had been changed out. Nothing of his wife’s remained, his sorrow keeping him from being able to see even the paintings of her. He’d had them all moved to a different room, where he’d built a shrine to her and their son. K̵̵̡̛̳͇͖̠̭̜ͣ̿͒̐̄͝e͛͊̐̎ͯ̆̔ï̶̧͎̖̝̬̼̼̥͎̬̫͎͍̬͖̝̖̦̭̤͆̿̔ͮ̔̑̎̽̍̎́ͩͪ̋̉̽̓̕͟ġ̽̈́̎͒̇̌̌̈͜ọ̡̡̥̜̈̈́̄ͣ helped Enji-san lower himself to the bed, undoing his robe and pulling it off the broad shoulders underneath.

He loved him.

But this was not his place.

K̵̵̡̛̳͇͖̠̭̜ͣ̿͒̐̄͝e͛͊̐̎ͯ̆̔ï̶̧͎̖̝̬̼̼̥͎̬̫͎͍̬͖̝̖̦̭̤͆̿̔ͮ̔̑̎̽̍̎́ͩͪ̋̉̽̓̕͟ġ̽̈́̎͒̇̌̌̈͜ọ̡̡̥̜̈̈́̄ͣ folded his robe carefully, putting it to the side before turning back and drawing the blankets over his Lord. “Get some sleep,” he whispered, watching Enji-san’s eyes drift shut. “I will make certain you get food and drink when you wake.” His hand was resting on Enji-san’s chest and K̵̵̡̛̳͇͖̠̭̜ͣ̿͒̐̄͝e͛͊̐̎ͯ̆̔ï̶̧͎̖̝̬̼̼̥͎̬̫͎͍̬͖̝̖̦̭̤͆̿̔ͮ̔̑̎̽̍̎́ͩͪ̋̉̽̓̕͟ġ̽̈́̎͒̇̌̌̈͜ọ̡̡̥̜̈̈́̄ͣ tried to pull it away, only to find Enji had taken it in his own.

“You are always so attentive,” he whispered, looking up at K̵̵̡̛̳͇͖̠̭̜ͣ̿͒̐̄͝e͛͊̐̎ͯ̆̔ï̶̧͎̖̝̬̼̼̥͎̬̫͎͍̬͖̝̖̦̭̤͆̿̔ͮ̔̑̎̽̍̎́ͩͪ̋̉̽̓̕͟ġ̽̈́̎͒̇̌̌̈͜ọ̡̡̥̜̈̈́̄ͣ with watery eyes.

Biting back on his own sorrow, forcing his tears away, K̵̵̡̛̳͇͖̠̭̜ͣ̿͒̐̄͝e͛͊̐̎ͯ̆̔ï̶̧͎̖̝̬̼̼̥͎̬̫͎͍̬͖̝̖̦̭̤͆̿̔ͮ̔̑̎̽̍̎́ͩͪ̋̉̽̓̕͟ġ̽̈́̎͒̇̌̌̈͜ọ̡̡̥̜̈̈́̄ͣ continued to smile for him. “I only want what is best for you, Tanaka-san.”

He pulled his hand away.

Moving to the lamps, K̵̵̡̛̳͇͖̠̭̜ͣ̿͒̐̄͝e͛͊̐̎ͯ̆̔ï̶̧͎̖̝̬̼̼̥͎̬̫͎͍̬͖̝̖̦̭̤͆̿̔ͮ̔̑̎̽̍̎́ͩͪ̋̉̽̓̕͟ġ̽̈́̎͒̇̌̌̈͜ọ̡̡̥̜̈̈́̄ͣ doused them slowly. He could feel Enji’s eyes on him as he moved from lamp to lamp. “If I asked for you to stay,” Enji’s voice was rough. “Would you?”

“I am loyal to you, my Lord.”

“With me,” Enji continued. K̵̵̡̛̳͇͖̠̭̜ͣ̿͒̐̄͝e͛͊̐̎ͯ̆̔ï̶̧͎̖̝̬̼̼̥͎̬̫͎͍̬͖̝̖̦̭̤͆̿̔ͮ̔̑̎̽̍̎́ͩͪ̋̉̽̓̕͟ġ̽̈́̎͒̇̌̌̈͜ọ̡̡̥̜̈̈́̄ͣ was very aware of the way he was being watched. “If I asked you to join me in my bed.” He sighed, turning his head away before K̵̵̡̛̳͇͖̠̭̜ͣ̿͒̐̄͝e͛͊̐̎ͯ̆̔ï̶̧͎̖̝̬̼̼̥͎̬̫͎͍̬͖̝̖̦̭̤͆̿̔ͮ̔̑̎̽̍̎́ͩͪ̋̉̽̓̕͟ġ̽̈́̎͒̇̌̌̈͜ọ̡̡̥̜̈̈́̄ͣ could even think of an answer. “I have watched you since before I took a wife. You have been a servant to my family since I was young. We grew together, K̵̵̡̛̳͇͖̠̭̜ͣ̿͒̐̄͝e͛͊̐̎ͯ̆̔ï̶̧͎̖̝̬̼̼̥͎̬̫͎͍̬͖̝̖̦̭̤͆̿̔ͮ̔̑̎̽̍̎́ͩͪ̋̉̽̓̕͟ġ̽̈́̎͒̇̌̌̈͜ọ̡̡̥̜̈̈́̄ͣ. I would respect your dismissal if you were to turn me away, but I…I find myself wanting the answer.”

Guilt bloomed in K̵̵̡̛̳͇͖̠̭̜ͣ̿͒̐̄͝e͛͊̐̎ͯ̆̔ï̶̧͎̖̝̬̼̼̥͎̬̫͎͍̬͖̝̖̦̭̤͆̿̔ͮ̔̑̎̽̍̎́ͩͪ̋̉̽̓̕͟ġ̽̈́̎͒̇̌̌̈͜ọ̡̡̥̜̈̈́̄ͣ’s heart. “Get some rest, Tanaka-san,” he forced a smile. “We will speak of this in the morning.”

They wouldn’t.

Once Enji had enough to drink, he stopped having memory of the night. Unless his mind drifted this way once more, K̵̵̡̛̳͇͖̠̭̜ͣ̿͒̐̄͝e͛͊̐̎ͯ̆̔ï̶̧͎̖̝̬̼̼̥͎̬̫͎͍̬͖̝̖̦̭̤͆̿̔ͮ̔̑̎̽̍̎́ͩͪ̋̉̽̓̕͟ġ̽̈́̎͒̇̌̌̈͜ọ̡̡̥̜̈̈́̄ͣ knew he’d never hear the question again.

He doused the final lamp.

Breathing was suddenly the hardest thing he had ever done.

Hawks coughed, nearly retching, as he sat up. “Hey, hey, be careful,” Miruko’s voice was actually calming, despite the harsh edge of it. “Take it easy, got it?” Hawks leaned into her, still coughing, and nodded. When he looked around, Eraserhead was crouched nearby, watching him. Fatgum was on his other side, looking into the trees. Both of them had taken up defensive positions while he’d been doing – whatever the fuck that had been. “The fuck happened?”

“Saw something,” Hawks felt his voice rasping. Oh, the Commission was not going to like it if he came back from a mission as simple as this with a lot of damage.

“Memories,” Eraserhead nodded. “That happened to a few of my students. What you saw was something someone went through. Which tells me,” he stood up, looking around. “That you were here, somewhere.” He moved closer, dropping back down to meet Hawks’ eyes. “What did you see, if you feel comfortable telling?”

“The Tanaka household,” Hawks coughed again, clearing his throat. “I was a servant. The head of the servants.”

“Come on, then,” Eraserhead helped him stand, Miruko refusing to move away from his other side. “I know where that is.

Hawks followed along quietly, closing his eyes and hoping Endeavor was alright.

X

Being back in the village was a harrowing experience.

Shouta glanced back at Hawks, supported by Miruko. Fatgum had a hand out on his other side, ready to catch him if he fell over again. Whatever ghosts were left behind, they had to be slower to wake than the rest. Or maybe it was just that their counterparts hadn’t been present. In the memories he had regained after that night, Shouta hadn’t seen anyone who looked like Miruko or Fatgum. The two of them didn’t seem to have a place in the village as he had known it – they might have been farther back in the history of it.

Shaking his head, Shouta looked forward again.

Maybe they just hadn’t been there.

Hawks had been, however. Shouta could remember that now. The head of those who served the Tanaka household. The one who had served the longest. Ikeda Keigo, brought into service when the then-a-child son of the local Lord was ten. Keigo himself had been about seven. Three years had been between their ages. Keigo had survived the fire and gone back to his duties, a scar dragging across his back, along his arms, and down one side of his face. He had served his Lord up until Tanaka Enji’s life had been taken from him. The news of Enji’s death had been delayed until after Izuku had hanged himself –

Frowning, Shouta turned that sentence over in his head.

There was something there. Something that said things were not as they appeared to be. Before the fire, Shouta vaguely remembered, Tanaka Enji had encouraged his children to find their happiness. His own father had discouraged finding love and had instead demanded his son marry the first eligible woman that could be found.

Shouta looked up to see the ruins of the Tanaka household.

Instantly, all other thoughts drifted away.

There was something to be found there.

The whisper came slowly, reaching his ears alone. Something to be found, something they had missed. Bakugou had told him, a couple of days later, about finding Shouto within the ruins and leading him out again. Had told him about finding Tanaka Enji choking to death on the poison-laced tea he had been given.

A threat.

Shouta gasped like he was coming out from under the depths of the ocean, rocking forward and looking around. “He wasn’t trying to separate his son and his lover. He wasn’t trying to upset or harm them,” he reached out and put a hand on a freestanding post that would have once been a part of a staircase. “Something threatened their lives – something put his son in danger.” He looked back at Hawks, whose bright gold eyes were pinned on where the front door of the building would have been. “He was protecting them.” Shouta clenched his hands, still breathing hard. “There was danger – a threat, blackmail, something – and he was trying to keep his son within the walls of the family home.”

“He wanted his son’s lover inside as well but he knew that would never happen,” Hawks was speaking quietly, barely above a whisper. “So he sent him away instead. If he brought just him inside, his own family would suffer. His mother and brother would be left out there, alone, facing whatever threat was there.”

“So he cut them off,” Shouta nodded. “To make it look like the two of them were unassociated.”

“Because if the threat came too close,” Hawks nodded. “Then Izuku’s family couldn’t be used against any of them.” He stood up straight, stepping away from Miruko. His eyes had gone unfocused, the shade seeming to darken before he walked closer. He stopped at the bottom of what had once been the stairs of a grandiose home. “He was not trying to make them miserable.”

“…Keigo?” Shouta lowered his voice, turning to put a hand on the man’s elbow. He got a watery smile in return.

“He never was trying to make them miserable,” Keigo looked close to tears. He shook his head. “Tanaka-san would never. He adored his children, was fond of his wife. She was his closest confidant, the one he confided in at all times. The fire stripped some of his courage from him, took some of the joy from his heart, but he did not want to make them miserable.” He held loose fists up to his chest, spreading his hands. “But fire has a way of destroying priorities. Of marking a man and setting him up for destruction.”

“What happened in the fire?” Shouta clutched at his elbow a little tighter. “Keigo, did you witness anything in the fire?”

“Touya saw something,” Keigo breathed the words out. “He warned me that there was someone sneaking around who should not have been. He—I remember the heat. I remember him pushing me down, throwing himself across me. He…He got struck when the world exploded.” He raised a hand, pressing it flat over the left side of his face. “Save for my left side, I was unharmed by that. I dragged him to safety – but what is safe when the entire world is engulfed in flames? – and I ran to find help. That was when the second explosion went off.”

His entire body tensed up. Shouta reached out his other hand, resting it on his shoulder. “Keigo.”

“I hit the floor. I heard footsteps, running and screaming. The fire spread to a part of the house with guests,” Keigo was shaking, his entire frame trembling. “My back was burning, my arms impossible to move from the pain. I heard one of the daughters of a nobleman screaming—”

His knees gave out and Shouta caught him, lowering him to the ground.

Beyond the memories, closer to the present day, Shouta knew Hawks was reacting. His wings twitched, flapping and flaring out. He was scared, even if he tried to pretend he never was as a hero. “It’s okay,” Shouta whispered, dragging him in closer. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he cupped a hand around the younger man’s head, leaning his cheek against the mop of blond hair.

“Touya saved my life,” Keigo whispered. “The last thing I heard him say was that he was afraid. I had watched him go from a child to a man and I could not even comfort him as he died.”

He was sobbing, now, and Shouta just held onto him.

Looking up at Miruko and Fatgum, Shouta swallowed his worry. “We need to find Endeavor,” he told them both. “This is what happened the last time I was here – except it was more of my students. A handful of them as opposed to two people running around and dipping into memories. Endeavor didn’t listen to us. We reported to him that his son had fallen into something odd and he took that to mean an attack.”

“This isn’t an attack, huh?” Fatgum moved closer, crouching down to brush the tips of his fingers across Hawks’ – Keigo’s elbow. “Not even slightly.”

“It’s the terrified echoes of the people who died here,” Shouta met the man’s eyes. “All of them are screaming, begging to be heard. The last time I was here, two of my students tried to kill themselves because the echo of what had happened to them was so strong. Midoriya tried to hang himself because the sorrow was still the only thing he could feel after all this time. Kaminari tried to drown himself because that was the only way his past self could think of to even maybe be reunited with my son.”

“…You were the father,” Miruko squatted, shoving her fist into the ground to keep herself steady. “Okay. I’ve never seen Hawks freak out like this, so I’m assuming this is a real thing. He doesn’t cry, y’know?” she reached into a small pouch she’d strapped to her thigh for the sake of a longer mission. When she pulled out a hair tie, Shouta snorted. He watched as she bound back her long hair, tucking it up. “I don’t put it up often, so this feels a bit weird, but I think it’ll be better than having it down.” She dropped to her knees, shoving her hair into submission until she had a somewhat messy bun on the back of her head. “Tell me what you need me to do.”

“See if you can’t pinpoint Endeavor’s location,” Shouta gestured around them. “He’s here somewhere. There is not very much village.”

“Right, got it,” She stood up, brushing her knees off. “I’m going to run a circuit of this place, see what I find. If nothing is found in a few minutes, I’ll be back to this exact spot.” She half-saluted him as she took off, running towards a distant point of the village. They watched her go, Shouta turning away first.

“Anything I can do?” Fatgum looked back at Shouta, holding his head up high.

“I am going to go into the ruins of this building,” Shouta jerked his chin at the once-grand Tanaka home. “And see if there’s anything to be found. Apparently Endeavor’s son was also found here. Endeavor might be here as well. I need you to keep an eye on Hawks. Make sure he’s okay. If something comes along, keep him safe.”

Fatgum nodded, transferring the smaller man to his arms. He sat against the post, hugging Hawks against him and patting gently at his back. “I wasn’t sure what to expect on this mission. This is…Very much not what I thought would be happening.”

“If Endeavor had actually bothered to listen to us instead of hearing the potential of an attack, we would not be in this position right now,” Shouta sighed. Tanaka Enji had been a stressed man with too many threats to the lives of his family. Endeavor was a tight-laced bastard with an inability to keep his temper in check at the best of times. There were similarities that Shouta could see, but they were hard to find. It was difficult to see where they blended into each other. “This was never a villain threat we were worried about. This is about a man panicking about—”

That was the similarity.

Endeavor had been called in to discuss what had happened. It was in the rules of UA, now – whenever something happened to the students of 1A, their parents were called in immediately and the situation was explained. It kept angry parents from misunderstanding and it kept reluctant children from hiding the problem until they woke up screaming three weeks later. Shouta had called Endeavor in and Shouto had stared at his father with something unconcerned in his eyes. Endeavor had briefly had something like worry in his expression before it had melted into anger. That was where Tanaka and Endeavor were similar – Tanaka just knew better when it came to how he treated his family. Not much better but just enough to make the difference.

“About?”

Shouta looked down at Fatgum, then looked to the ruins. “About the safety of his family. About how he might keep such a thing intact.”

Tanaka had pulled the remainder of his family inside the walls of their home and refused to let them out until he had handled the danger. Endeavor had put together an odd team for a mission he didn’t fully understand to take care of the danger himself.

The same story, tilted at an odd angle and retold.

“Keep him safe,” Shouta moved to the steps, looking down at his feet. Bakugou had mentioned following a specific path through the ruins of the house to find Shouto. Like his feet had already known the way, he had found the other boy and brought him back out again. Shouta stuck to the edges of the path, his boots smacking wetly against the rotting wood. He wasn’t the one meant to be here, he knew it. He was supposed to be helping Hawks – Keigo, currently – through to find where it had happened. “Help me out, here,” he whispered. The breeze picked up around him, the darkening sky threatening overhead. There was nowhere to stay, this time, no inn to hide out at while waiting for the sun to rise. This was an all-or-nothing sort of moment. “I need to know what happened. I need to know how things went. I need to know why.”

‘You need to look around,’ a voice seemed to echo all around him. It was not the one he had heard before, not the voice of his past self. This one sounded more like Shouto. When Shouta looked up, he saw a young man with black hair staring at him. His eyes were a dark brown but his cheeks and jawline gave him away.

“You must be Touya, then,” Shouta stopped in his tracks, staring. He was wearing a formal yukata and hakama, patterned with flowers at the cuffs.

A smirk worked across the ghost’s face. ‘That is my name, yes. Tanaka Touya,’ he inclined his head, laughing soundlessly. Across the right side of his face and the back of his neck, Shouta could see a bloodied wound. ‘I do not regret saving his life. I just wish I had been able to save my mother as well.’ He stepped closer, holding out a hand. ‘Can I show you?’

Shouta took his hand, his eyes shutting instantly.

There was a noise outside.

He had stepped outside with his pipe, taking a break from the festivities inside. Fuyumi had come of age, recently, and their father had decided to celebrate it in the same way as he had Touya and Natsuo’s. Other nobility had been invited and he had always preferred staying away from large crowds. Along the perimeter of their home, below, Touya could see various people milling about. Release a mouthful of smoke, he peered through the darkness to watch a couple of servants speaking to each other. A couple of the girls, some of Fuyumi’s favorites. She had so few friends when it came to those who were not simply looking to be gifted something by merely hanging around her.

She had always made friends with the servants easily. They were always quick to leap to any task she asked of them.

Smiling, Touya watched the two girls bowing and taking their leave from the head of the household staff. Ikeda-san looked after all those younger than him like they were family. The two girls appeared to have gotten the night off.

An odd noise off to the side of the roof caught his attention. When he looked over, there were people he did not recognize. All of the servants of his family’s home wore a pendant his father had designed, marking that they belonged to the household of the samurai. The three people he was watching were not wearing one, all three of them dressed somewhere between nobility and servant. Touya frowned, his brow drawing downward as he watched them hauling something between the three of them. His breath caught, however, when he saw the lantern they carried with them. The design of it was not meant to light their path – it was the type of thing one would carry to ignite a fire. There was no paper lantern around the flame, nothing to mark it as a decorative necessity.

It was bare, the flame guttering with their movements.

Touya set his pipe down on the railing and hurried inside. He needed to find Ikeda-san or his father – one of the two would know what to do, how to identify those who did not belong. There were noble families gathered in one place, they were all in danger!

Cursing, Touya ran for the stairs. As he bolted down them, he felt something go flying past his ear, blood dribbling onto his fingers when he reached up and touched the injury. A knife. A knife was sticking out of the wall. They had already made it inside, then. Without a second thought, Touya changed direction and ran for Ikeda-san, who would be able to get the other nobles to safety and warn Touya’s father. The servant who had been with their family for decades now – he would know how to help.

Finding him in one of the side rooms, Touya moved closer to him. “Ikeda-san!” he stopped, breathing hard. He looked a mess, he knew he did, but there was no time. “There are those who are not supposed to be here. I saw men on the perimeter, they were,” he huffed, shaking his head. His head was spinning, the world thrown sideways. Closing his eyes for a moment, Touya felt Ikeda-san’s hand on his shoulder. “They were carrying explosives.”

He heard a noise behind him.

Oh, gods.

Touya felt his chest constrict, throwing himself in the way as the bomb he had watched them carry in went off. There were pieces of metal mixed in, it seemed, one of them lodging in his back. Ikeda-san was gasping, bloodied, beneath him but he couldn’t make himself move.

Pain lanced through his back, making his vision fall to almost nothing.

Ikeda-san was calling his name with all of the terror of a fearful parent, a hand on his shoulder. “I’m – I don’t want to die,” Touya muttered, his hands growing colder. “I’m scared.”

Ikeda-san shook his head, pulling him close and away from the growing fire behind him. “You won’t, I won’t let you,” he brushed Touya’s hair back, a motion Touya’s mother had done when he was small. She was around here, somewhere. She had spoken with Touya of the love shared between his father and this man. She had tried to tell Ikeda-san that he was welcome to her husband, that his bed was empty of her if he wanted it to be. The man crying over him was as much family as his mother and father.

“Touya, I am going to get help,” Ikeda-san bowed his head. “Your father – someone, anyone. I have to leave you, I will be back!”

Touya felt his body stop responding, unable to say anything. The explosion had ripped across his body.

And then the world fell apart again, the flames rising once more.

Shouta fell backward, back into his body.

Touya was watching him, eyes wide and dark. Sorrow and anger played across his pale face, his hands clenched in the fabric of his sleeves. ‘I watched the world burn,’ his voice hung in the air between them. He looked down at the ground, eyes pinned to one spot. Shouta looked as well, then watched as Touya kneeled and pressed his hands into that same spot. ‘Here.’

“This is where you died?” Shouta moved forward as well, crouching next to the ghost. There was a faint darkness on the rotted wood. Like a stain that had never been able to be scrubbed away. He could almost see the scene – Touya, laid out on the ground and bleeding to death slowly on top of being poisoned by whatever had been on that knife. The man who had helped raise him, along with his parents, being the last person he had seen in his life. “There was a threat, then. Do you know what happened?”

‘There were those who sought to take power they had not earned. To steal a samurai’s title and home, this far from those who would know the man behind the name and power, they only needed to kill him. And to take the lives of those who knew him personally.’

“He was under attack.” Shouta looked around again. “He was trying to save the life of his son.”

Touya stared blankly at him, his eyes seeming to open into blackened holes.

Shouta stared back. “Your body burned. When they managed to put out the fire –” he looked towards the trees, to the shrines. “They never found your body. Your father could never put you to rest because your bones were never found,” he stood up again. “Can you show me where your body is?” he peered through the darkness. “Touya, can you show me where your bones came to rest?”

‘Yes.’

A flood of ice shot through him as Touya took his wrist but Shouta followed.

X

Everything was quiet here.

Enji peered into the darkness, the scent of stale smoke and rotted wood surrounding him. This was where it had happened. He had only known of his son’s death because of Ikeda-san. Keigo had woken up, surviving despite the outlook being grim, and spoken of having watched Touya pass. His son had never been found, though his blood had stained the floor where he had fallen.

You have become a monster.

The voice in his mind was his own, he knew. He was faltering, switching between modern and historical. There was nothing to hide behind – the past knew a monster when he saw one. Enji was a monster. He had pushed his children, demanded from his wife, pulled lives apart simply for the sake of following a standard he’d created. Shouto had been so small when he’d first started training him, smaller than Touya had been.

You squandered your time with them! What I would give to have another day to see their lives continue!

Enji pressed his back into the wall, closing his eyes. There was nothing he could say to defend himself. He had pushed and pushed until his children had either fallen or succeeded in his eyes. Touya, whose Quirk had worked against him, burned him, torn him apart. Shouto, whose Quirks were what Enji had considered perfect.

You harmed your own sons, you burned their happiness.

Touya, who had disappeared.

Touya, who was presumed dead.

You are nothing more than the fire that took their lives.

Burying his hands in his hair, Enji nodded. There was nothing he could say against the accusations, nothing that he could even think to say. He had just—

He had just wanted to surpass a man.

It had been nothing more than a competition. He had ruined the lives of his children – all of them – because he had been unable to get his mind and heart set on something that would make them happy. Touya had been destroyed and driven mad by his own Quirk. Natsuo and Fuyumi had grown bitter over the years, not allowed to speak to their brothers. The eldest and the youngest had been sequestered, kept away from their family, for the sake of training. Enji had thrown in a token protest when Touya had started hurting himself with his Quirk. He had formed the vaguest of protests when Touya had demanded to keep training, terrified of being thrown away when his power ruined him. The attack on Shouto had been resentment formed from Enji’s own favor.

I would have traded the world to see my children happy. I did not always get it right but I did better than you!

“Shut up!” Enji howled the words into the darkness, shoving his feet into the floor. There were hands on his ankles, tearing at his wrists. The darkness surrounding him was too complete to be the result of the sun going down. There were no stars above him, no light came to him when he summoned his Quirk. He was being shoved into the dark on purpose.

A soft glow made him gasp, his eyes burning at the sudden light.

A woman sat across from him, dressed in a kimono. Her legs were folded beneath her, hands resting on her knees. ‘It is unfair to leave him unable to defend himself,’ her voice echoed in the darkness around them. ‘It is worse to do so when you have given him nowhere to run.’

He doesn’t deserve to run! He must face what he has done to his children – they could not run from him!

Enji sobbed, burying his face in his hands.

A smaller hand landed on his, lifting his face up. The woman met his eyes, her face pale and kind. She looked oddly like Rei, though Enji could not exactly place the features that reminded him of his wife. Her hair was pulled back and up, like historical paintings he had seen. ‘Tanaka Seki,’ she inclined her head, a soft smile on her lips. Perhaps the similarity he was seeing was the ability to put up with a great amount of pain and bullshit from their husbands. ‘I think it is time you forgive yourself, Enji. Your sons died even with you doing your best to prevent it.’

Shaking, Enji curled into himself, his head anchored in place by her hands.

The others came and laid themselves to rest. This monster comes along and I am supposed to be satisfied with him putting me to rest when his hands are stained in the blood of his children?

‘Enji,’ Seki seemed to smile wider. ‘He recognizes his faults.’

She leaned further into his space, wrapping her arms around his neck until he was pressed against her. Despite the smell of stale rot around him, Enji could smell something light and flowery on her. Perfume of some sort. He recognized it, had purchased it from an artisan for her. He didn’t recognize it at all, had no idea what it was beyond a scent of some kind. The split in his mind was painful, a headache in the making. He was relieved when Seki started humming. ‘He knows, now, how selfish he was. Do you not?’ Seki pulled away, meeting his eyes again. ‘He does not have the bearing you do, Enji. He was not raised to put others above himself. His ambition was the leading aspect of his life.’

And he deserves nothing.

‘Enji.’

Closing his eyes, Enji let the two voices send him into a lull.

“My Lord,” one of his underlings bowed to him, forehead pressed to the Tatami beneath him. “We could not find the threat.”

“My daughter’s adulthood approaches,” Enji peered around the reports he held, the washi crinkling faintly in his hands. “I am arranging festivities for the event. I have a need to find the traitors and those who would harm my family before then. I have no preference for how such a thing is done but it must be done in secret – informing my children and my wife of the troubles I face is not something I wish to do. My days of fighting battles may be done but I am still capable of defending those I hold dear.”

“Perhaps telling them may help?” another man spoke up, raising his head.

“They do not need the burden of that knowledge,” Enji shook his head. “It would only worry them. My daughter comes of age and she will be sent to her mother’s family. The matchmaker they keep is well-suited and knows how to choose a husband.”

He did not want his only daughter to marry someone torn by war. He knew what his own memories had done to Seki.

“My son, Touya, is being trained to be my replacement. Since I have been appointed Daimyo of this region, my position as samurai is still held but only just.” Enji looked back down at the reports, folding them carefully. “I will take care of this uncertainty before he takes the position up.”

There was so much to the burden pressing on his shoulders. He would not wish it on his children.

Tossing back his drink, Enji bowed his head. “You may go.”

The room emptied quickly. Once all of them were gone, Ikeda-san stepped in. He held a bowl of rice in his hands, steam rising from the surface of it. “My Lord,” he slipped fluidly to his knees, bowing and holding out the bowl of rice. “Regaining your strength after that sort of meeting is imperative.” His eyes were shining when he sat back up, watching Enji take his food and begin to eat. “Though perhaps you are too angered by the lack of progress.”

“As always, you hear too much,” Enji stared at Ikeda-san – Keigo – and buried the urge to smile for him.

“Only what your underlings whisper about in the hallway,” Keigo’s grin was a touch wild, as always. He produced a bottle of sake from somewhere, his usual tricks amusing Enji. As always. There was something he delighted in when it came to Keigo. The man made his heart beat faster and harder, his cheeks flushing. The excuse of sake was always convenient – flushed cheeks from drinking were a common excuse of his. “Though it is safe enough in your halls, I would caution them to be more careful about how and where they speak.”

“I will take it into consideration,” Enji watched as Keigo poured him some more sake, slender hands gripping the bottle in a way that was deceptively delicate. The man was only three years younger than him but he always seemed so youthful. He deserved a lover who could keep up with him. Someone young at heart, wild, willing to be untamed with him.

Someone kind and good.

Someone other than Enji.

He had loved Keigo for so long that not loving him was like not using his hand in a battle. Impossible and uncertain, likely to result in his death.

Keigo seemed to notice his watchful state. “You are staring again, Tanaka-san.”

“Ah, my apologies, Ikeda-san,” Enji cursed the oceans of difference between their roles in life. “I was only thinking that perhaps you should have been raised a samurai as well. Quick-witted, light on your feet, the enemy would always underestimate you.” He stopped himself, just barely, from reaching out to cup Keigo’s cheek in his hand. “You have a way of making even the mundane seem graceful.”

Even Seki knew of his love for the other man.

Tears burned his eyes as he let his head fall back against the wall behind him.

Enji choked on a sob, his hands curled against his chest. “I don’t want—”

‘Breathe,’ Seki’s voice was everywhere and nowhere, all at once. He turned his head away from her, his entire body trembling. He knew what that felt like, the wanting and never being able to reach out and touch. Hawks was the same way – bright and brilliant and amusing in a way Enji knew he’d never be able to replicate. He was a shining star, young and wild and free, and Enji would always be older. Had always been older. Even as a younger man, he had already been old. He had his ambition to keep him company and that was all he would ever have.

He could work with Hawks, could potentially even call him a friend, but he could never love him the way he wanted to.

He had installed new windows in his office to let Hawks fly in when he needed or wanted. He had told the younger hero about the skylight and the button that triggered it to open if necessary. Enji had taken Hawks out to lunches and dinners simply for the sake of hearing him enjoying something without reservations. When he was eating, the gold of his eyes shone like sunlight, happiness seeming to almost seep out of him. Enji wasn’t an idiot – he could see that something weighed on Hawks when he was working. Like there was always something at the back of his mind.

The Commission had to be the answer.

Whenever their paths crossed, Enji would take him out for a meal. He would pay for his food and he would listen to him chatter about whatever he wanted to talk about. It was a fair price to pay to see the younger man happy.

But Hawks deserved someone his own age. Someone who could keep up with him in every way.

He didn’t deserve an old man – a monster – pressing his affections where they weren’t wanted. Enji knew his heart was a twisted, blackened husk by this point. What he had done to Rei, Touya, and Shouto had proven that. Hawks deserved someone who could love him without being selfish. Someone he could grow to love as well – and there was no chance that Hawks would ever think to love him back. Enji was just a bitter old man who had hurt everyone he ever touched.

Hawks deserved better, but Enji couldn’t stop himself from wanting to be better for him.

There was nothing he could do to undo his past. All he could do was apologize and step away. If they chose to keep him in their lives, then that was their decision. Fuyumi had been working to pull him back into the family for years. Natsuo hated him and Enji could not blame him.

Touya was gone. An absent spot at the table, an empty space in a family photo, a cold tomb of a bedroom.

And Shouto…

Shouto, whose face bore the mark of Enji’s mistreatment in the form of a scar given to him by his mother. Rei may have been the one whose hands had moved but Enji was the one who had driven her to it.

‘They are still your family,’ Seki’s voice was softer this time. ‘Give them time. Their anger may last forever and that might just be how it happens,’ her hands were chilled, pressed against his chest. ‘But what you can do is give them room and time and proof that you are being a better man. What they do with that is up to them, but that is what you can do.’

Despite the fact that the voice inside of his head had gone silent, Enji knew she was only half-talking to him.

The other Enji, the one who had died from trusting the wrong people.

Or perhaps he had trusted the right ones.

It was an uncertainty he could have lived without but there was nothing he could do to change the past.

When he opened his eyes again, he saw two others in front of him. Eraserhead was staring down at him, eyebrows raised. “Historically,” he spoke slowly, reaching up to adjust his capture weapon. “Their deaths were recorded as them having run off.” He glanced at Seki, who smiled a little more. Eraserhead walked past her and Enji, kneeling in the corner of the room. Now that there was at least a little bit of light, Enji could see where he was. The fragments of the room they were in were rotted and falling apart, most unexposed to the elements.

In the corner, where Eraserhead was, there were two skeletons.

The one who had walked in with Eraserhead came to kneel in front of Enji, smiling at him. “…Touya?” he felt tears welling up again, staring at someone who looked like his son might have looked if Enji had seen him reach adulthood. The yukata he wore, patterned with flowers at the cuffs, matched the one worn by the larger of the two skeletons. The kimono Seki wore was brightly colored – matching the other skeleton. “Their remains,” Enji pressed his back against the wall, dragging himself to stand on shaking legs.

“They cannot rest with their bodies down here,” Eraserhead glanced back at him. “They were killed in the bombing of your home, then dragged out of sight. Once the trauma of that had started to die down, they were left undiscovered because this portion of the house sat underneath the part that was burned.” He reached out and picked something up, holding it between two fingers.

Enji saw the glint of metal and felt his next breath come shaking out of him. “Where—”

“In her back,” Eraserhead stood up. “Tanaka Seki was murdered while the rest of the people who died were casualties of the bombs and the fire.”

“We need to get them to rest.”

“What you need to do, Endeavor,” Eraserhead scoffed. “Is go speak with Keigo.”

Keigo, the voice murmured in Enji’s mind.

Before he left the room, Enji stopped in front of Touya, staring into the face of the man who had once been his son. “I am so sorry I could not keep you safe,” Enji felt the words slip out of his mouth but he couldn’t tell which version of him was speaking. Or which version of Touya he was speaking to. “I should have been better, gotten there faster, managed the danger more effectively.”

Touya stared at him, eyes dark, before smiling sadly and putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Go speak with Keigo,” Eraserhead said again.

Enji went.

X

Keigo had his eyes closed, pressed against the chest of a man he had been told would keep him safe.

There was not much he could do other than put his trust in what he had been told and wait. He wanted to rush away, to find Enji and pull him close and never let him leave again. The woman with them was watching him, as if she expected him to do something, but the idea of it tugged at his mind and would not let him rest despite the fact that he did not know what she wanted. There was so much strangeness to how he felt, how unsettled he was. A weight pressed into him, his terror and panic pulling at him until he could no longer bear it.

“I need to speak with him alone,” a voice he recognized spoke and Keigo sat up quickly. He would recognize Enji’s voice anywhere.

Pushing onto his knees, Keigo bowed his head and looked up. Enji was staring at him, eyes wide, with an expression that seemed so fragile. As if Keigo could have reached out and pushed against it and it would have shattered. Like the glass figurines Keigo had once seen shatter against the ground. “Tanaka-san,” he smiled for him as he always did, feeling bolstered by the sight of him.

“Peace, Ikeda-san,” Enji smiled back for once. A true smile, the kind Keigo had always so carefully counted. He reached out and took Keigo’s hands in his own, his larger size nearly dwarfing Keigo.

Strong hands, as they had always been.

The strength of the man in front of him, the strength he had grown up alongside, had always impressed him. Enji had faced battles and wars with the same poise as he faced reports and speaking with the Shogun. “Peace, Tanaka-san? When you are somewhere I cannot find?” Keigo laughed, the sound coming out wetly as his tears began to fall again. “There is no peace to be found in such a situation.” He shook his head. “I remember, now. I remember your death, the death of your family. Fuyumi was safely away, with her mother’s family as you had discussed. Natsuo was healing those who needed it. Touya and Shouto suffered, as did you and Seki-san.”

Too late, he remembered he was not their family. Familiarity with the children he had watched grow was not something looked upon kindly.

“My suffering was shorter than yours,” Enji’s voice was low, his hand warm when it moved from Keigo’s hand to his cheek. “After all, you lived your entire life here, alone, once everything was said and done. You grew to an old age and then passed away, alone. Keigo,” his voice caught on Keigo’s name. “You were robbed of your family and then you grew old alone.”

Keigo shuddered, leaning into Enji’s shoulder. “Please,” he whispered.

“Keigo, my Keigo,” Enji’s tone held a fondness that Keigo had imagined hearing for decades. “Beautiful, brilliant, graceful Keigo. Had our stations been equal, I would have been allowed to keep you by my side even as I went into battle.”

His other hand joined the first, cupping Keigo’s face. “Had I been but a little braver, I would have held you in my arms.”

Keigo’s breath caught this time, then betrayed him all at once when Enji’s lips pressed gently against his own. He curled his hands in the fabric of Enji’s clothing, holding him close. If this was a dream, he wished to never wake from it. When they parted to breathe, Keigo looked up at Enji, eyes wide. “But, Seki—”

“My wife almost invited you into my bed for me,” Enji’s face was flushed, the way it had always been when Keigo was around. In the past, they had both been willing to allow sake to take the blame for the color of Enji’s cheeks. For the color of Keigo’s cheeks when he spent any length of time in Enji’s presence. “She approved. Ours was a marriage of convenience and fulfillment – I required children to keep my position and overtake my father. He would only step down as samurai when I proved that I could take his place. Seki wanted to see more of the world.”

Keigo’s sobs turned into laughter, darting in for another kiss. He let his head rest on Enji’s shoulder, closing his eyes.

He could finally rest. Reunited with those he loved, with his family, the man he had loved for so long.

It was over, now.

Hawks groaned, rubbing roughly at his face with one hand.

Okay, what the actual fuck had happened? His eyes itched and burned, like he’d been crying, and his wings felt numb in the way they usually only did when he’d been thrown against a wall. His hands were shaking, but they were balled up in—

Ah.

Endeavor was holding him. The larger man’s arm was wrapped around Hawks’ waist, keeping him held upright. The heat coming off of his body was enough to keep Hawks warm, so he didn’t try to move. Unsure of what else was happening, Hawks pulled himself down from whatever cloud he’d been floating on, listening in to the conversations around him. His lips felt slightly swollen. Why the fuck were they swollen – who had he kissed?

As if to answer the question, a flash of images flooded through his mind and Hawks nearly swallowed his tongue. He hadn’t thought he’d ever get to kiss Endeavor, despite having crushed on the guy since he’d been fourteen.

The conversation around him shifted, Endeavor’s voice going quiet. “Hawks?” he looked down and Hawks could see his lips were the same as Hawks’. That was an image going into his mental vault for forever. “How are you feeling?” Endeavor’s hand was warm and soothing, his fingers pressing gently between Hawks’ wings like he knew how the base of them ached at times. “Sunrise is soon. We’ve been out here all night. Fatgum, Eraserhead, and Miruko performed the last rites for a couple of bodies that slipped through the cracks of knowledge. This village has finally been put to rest.”

“I’m a little sore, not gonna lie,” Hawks tilted his head up, the bottom of his chin rest on Endeavor’s pec. If he was allowed to be held against the man, he was going to take every single sensory aspect of it he could. “Not even really sure what happened.” He hesitated, then glanced to the side without moving. “Touya and Seki?”

“Yes,” Endeavor nodded.

They sat, silent, for a moment. Hawks was tempted to close his eyes and take a nap, but that might have been rude. He knew there were limits to how much he could engage Endeavor before the man snapped at him.

“I don’t know when I fell in love with you,” Endeavor spoke up, his voice softer than Hawks had ever heard before. “Maybe it was the first time I took you out to dinner and watched you ramble about how we’d work well together. Maybe it was the time after that, when I asked you to explain how your wings worked and you told me with no hesitation.” His hands were warm, still, pleasant and safe on Hawks’ back even as he spoke about something that should have terrified Hawks. “Or maybe it was even when you refused to stop joking about being more popular than me when it came to the polls.”

Hawks drew back from him, meeting his eyes.

There was something softer in the bright blue, something that he’d only ever briefly glimpsed. He was glad Miruko seemed to be occupied, Hawks thought, because he knew she would be laughing at him right then. “I fell in love with you when I was sixteen,” Hawks let the words bubble out of him. “You were the first person that ever made me feel like I could be something better than I was.”

He reached out and took Endeavor’s hands in his own, lacing their fingers together. “I don’t know how to do this,” Hawks continued, staring at their hands together.

“Then I think I am in good company,” Enji’s voice turned rough, a small smile on his mouth and panic in his eyes. “Because I don’t either. There are some things I know, some things I have forgotten, and some things I never learned in the first place. If you would allow me to pursue you,” he bowed his head. “I will do my best.”

“As if that was ever a question,” Hawks scoffed. “I followed your ass into a haunted village and apparently got possessed for it.”

Endeavor laughed.

It was a small thing, a little weak, more of a chuckle, but it took Hawks’ breath away.

“My name is Keigo,” Hawks lifted his chin. “Takami Keigo.”

Endeavor’s smile grew stronger. “Todoroki Enji,” he leaned down and kissed the back of Hawks’ hand. “I need to put myself back together again, apologize for the wrongs I have committed, but I want to be with you.”

 There was going to be a learning curve but, Hawks figured, they were both pretty smart. They could figure it out.

X

Shouta watched as they all piled into the vehicle that had brought them there.

Endeavor had brought it in, citing his position as the one who put the team together for the reason he was responsible for the transport. Fatgum fit in the truck easily, as did Hawks’ wings stretched to their fullest. For some reason, Shouta thought that second one had been the thing Endeavor had been considering more than Fatgum’s size. Miruko hesitated at the driver’s side, raising her chin when Endeavor moved towards the door. With a shake of her head, Miruko pushed him back towards Hawks, snorting derisively and climbing into the driver’s seat.

Coiling up his capture weapon, Shouta moved to sit in the passenger seat.

Miruko glanced over at him, her eyes holding something harrowed. She had come running back through the village, not screaming but definitely unsettled. She had refused to tell him what she had seen, waved him away, but she had dropped next to Fatgum and Hawks without saying a word. After that, Shouta had been a little preoccupied.

Looking in the side mirror, Shouta stared at the line of trees, back towards the village.

This time, as they’d walked away, the entirety of it had fallen apart. There had been absolutely nothing left. Even the air had cleared, the sunrise revealing a clear sky. He had never been one to believe in the supernatural, before all of this, but he had very few options about it now. Miruko started the truck, pulling out quickly. She had taken a minute or two to change into civilian clothing, still quiet. Glancing into the back, Shouta saw Hawks curling up against Endeavor, one hand pressed over his heart. Both of them appeared to be half-asleep already, strained and exhausted. He’d been there less than a month ago – he and Hizashi hadn’t been as exhausted as their students. Fatgum was watching the number one and number two heroes with worry stamped across his face.

Shouta was certain, this time, that it was over.

Even the inn had collapsed.

“So,” Miruko stretched her shoulders, settling a little further into her seat. Her ears brushed the roof, twitching almost frantically. “What the fuck.”

“I really wish I had an answer for you,” Shouta sighed. “But imagine going through all of that with the addition of six teenagers immediately in danger and another fourteen asleep in bed, running through nightmares of memories from the fire that destroyed a lot of lives. Plus Present Mic.”

“Oof,” Miruko laughed for a second. Her hands were tight on the steering wheel, her knuckles white.

“What did you see?” Shouta had a suspicion, already. The look in her eyes, the way she had held herself. “Did you manage to hear anything when you went looking?”

“I heard…” Miruko frowned, shaking her head. “I heard something calling for me.”

Shouta frowned as well. “It wouldn’t have been one of us. I was busy, Endeavor was missing, I assume you would know what Hawks sounded like. Miruko isn’t a common name, either. Your hero name, out in the middle of nowhere – either your mind was playing with you or you actually heard something. Do you know where –”

“It wasn’t calling my hero name,” Miruko’s words were tense.

Pausing, Shouta stared at her.

“My name is Rumi,” Miruko continued after a minute. “And that – That’s the name that was being called. I heard it from the forest. While I was running around, hoping to catch even the smallest sound of wherever big flame guy back there was, I heard my name being called. When I went looking, I found a small hut, cabin, thing. I’m not sure what else was happening but I saw it. When I approached it, I came face to face with a little home. It had been someone’s, once, and now it’s just rotting in the woods. When I walked inside,” Miruko sighed, shaking her head. Her eyes were pinned to the road ahead of them. “It felt like coming home. For the first time ever, I felt like I’d come home.”

Her ears twitched again.

Nodding, Shouta turned to look out the window. “We can never really go back there,” he kept his voice quiet. “One of my students likened it to a train station being shut down. The train is still running elsewhere but this is the last trip out from here. Once we’re done and gone, our business concluded, the entire village collapses. It partially did so last time, which is why I thought it was finished.”

“I think it is now,” Miruko took a deep breath. “I think…I feel calmer, now. Like I know what was there and now I never need to go back to see it.”

Turning to look at her again, Shouta studied her face. “Anything you’re excited about once we return home?”

“I have a date planned,” Miruko grinned. “She’s great. Couple years younger than me but feels so familiar and comfortable. Like I can actually be myself around her. We’ve gone out a handful of times now, she likes lowkey dates. We’ve gone hiking a couple of times.” She nodded towards her bag, on the floor between their seats. “My lock screen is a photo of her, if you wanted to see. How about your guy? Anything planned with him?”

“We were thinking about planning a night in, ourselves,” Shouta pulled out Miruko’s phone, tapping the screen to light it up.

On screen, with one arm curled around her partner, Miruko was grinning at the camera she was holding up. They appeared to be in a park, surrounded by trees. Her date’s hair was wild from the wind, tangling with Miruko’s as it blew everywhere. Shouta chewed on the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing, however, because he recognized the woman Miruko was dating. Her white hair, streaked with bits of red, was the first tell. He had seen her not too long ago, at a conference Endeavor had been unable to make it to.

Todoroki Fuyumi.

He didn’t know whether to laugh or inform Miruko of who her girlfriend’s father was.

The sun rose further as Miruko drove, the truck lapsing into silence. In the mirror, when he checked again, Shouta could see Endeavor lying on his back, passed out with Hawks sprawled across his chest. He had a hand on the smaller hero’s back, keeping him in place. His other hand was on Hawks’ thigh, likely to help him stay supported. Hawks’ wings were spread over the both of them, like a blanket. Fatgum was reading something, chewing idly through the contents of one of the bento boxes he’d stuck in the fridge in the back of the truck.

By the time they’d reached home, Shouta was tired of being in a car.

By the time they reached Endeavor’s agency, he’d pulled out his phone and texted Hizashi a few times, letting him know Shouta had returned. Safely, even. Letting him know something else had happened in the remains of the village.

The five of them made it to Endeavor’s office for a short debriefing.

With that over as quickly as possible, all of them went their separate ways. Hawks followed Endeavor, however, and Shouta silently wished them luck as he got into his own car and drove home. Pulling up to his apartment, he noticed Hizashi’s car in the guest parking spot. He’d given Hizashi a key, not too long after their turn with the possessions and hauntings.

Walking inside, Shouta whistled gently, knocking against a wall with his knuckles. Even if Hizashi had headphones on or his hearing aids off, he would still know Shouta was home.

“In here!” Hizashi’s voice came from the kitchen.

He had known what Miruko was feeling before she’d even described it. Whether it was a symptom of a past life or something new and different, he wasn’t sure, but he felt it every time he came home to Hizashi. Whether in this life or that one, he had always loved the man. Hanging up his capture weapon and ridding himself of his costume boots, Shouta padded into the kitchen with socked feet. He watched as Hizashi swayed his hips to the music playing gently from his laptop.

Shouta put his hands on Hizashi’s waist, pulling him close and burying his face in the loose blond hair.

“It’s over?” Hizashi asked after a moment, reaching back to bury his fingers in Shouta’s hair. “Like…For good?”

“It’s over,” Shouta sighed, curling his arms around his boyfriend. “For good.”

Hizashi turned in his arms, tugging him even closer and putting them chest-to-chest. Shouta went willingly, hiding his face in the crook of Hizashi’s neck, his hands sliding up to rest between his shoulder blades. “Awesome,” Hizashi put a hand on the back of his head, humming quietly.

He didn’t know if they had just decided to find each other again and again, but he was happy with this result.

And the ghosts seemed to be happy too.