Archive of Our Own ^beta

The click of her heels on the pavement echoed along the empty corridors of U.A. High. She texted frantically while she walked, attempting to locate Natsuo and keep tabs on him via text at the same time. Her brother was not savvy with directions, and in a school this big she couldn’t really blame him this time for his cluelessness. 

    Most of the students and their families were already gathered in the theater, though some stragglers hung around the school grounds. 

    Fuyumi rounded a corner, into a small courtyard, and shuffled to an abrupt stop. A cherry blossom tree stood proudly in the center of the courtyard, ringed by stone benches. Young March blooms budded along the tree branches. 

    Underneath the tree sat a single man. 

    Fuyumi came to a stop, initially thinking she walked in on something private and personal. His face was buried in his hands, elbows on his knees. His knees – his whole leg, hip to ankle – encased in a metal frame that glinted in the sunlight. He rubbed his face and straightened his back; dark, tired eyes meeting hers.

    Then, she felt awkward. She’d obviously witnessed him having a moment. Perhaps interrupted it. 

    “I’m so sorry,” she began, mouth left open, not knowing what to say next. 

    “Rounding the last of us up?” He asked with a small smile. “My apologies, I was just taking a breather.”

    She swallowed, chuckled awkwardly. “I’m not a teacher, or anything. Not here, at least. So… you’re fine.”

    His head tilted slightly to the side. “Have you lost your way around here then?”

    “No,” she replied. “My brother has. I was looking for him. But now he’s not responding to my texts either.”

    He laughed. “That’s what my own brother usually does. I’m surprised he hasn’t tried to contact–” He picked up his phone and winced. “Ten texts. A missed call. My phone was on silent,” he added with an apologetic look aimed at her, as if she required the explanation. 

    She found herself smiling wider, though. She didn’t know why. But she ended up sitting carefully at the other end of the bench. There was a good two feet between them now. “I won’t tell.”

    There were definitely dark smudges under his eyes, but they seemed like the kind one was used to having for years. 

    “Is this lost brother one of the graduates?” He asked.

    “No, it’s my other brother. I have another… my youngest brother is a graduate.”

    “Mine too.”

    “Can I ask…” she said, smoothing her hands over her knees, “why you’re out here?”

    He patted his thigh, and the metal frame encasing it. “Resting. Standing for so long is… difficult.”

    She wanted to ask what the frame was for, but thought it rude. The sound of his chuckle made her glance up questioningly. 

    “You want to know what this is for,” he said. Her cheeks heated. He shook his head. “It’s okay. Everyone is curious. I don’t mind.”

    His ease made her smile as well. “If you truly don’t mind.”

    “I’m paraplegic,” he said, still smiling like he told her his favorite color, not a statement normally holding such… gravitas. “Most of the time I use a chair, but sometimes, in some cases, it’s… easier to let the machine walk for me.”

    Fuyumi sensed resignation in his pause. “Is it? Easy?”

    “No,” he said, just as casually. “It’s not.”

    She pouted. “Then, why–”

    “Fuyumi! There you are,” her brother shouted from the courtyard gate. Natsuo came up short when he saw the two of them, but he said nothing more, only waited at the gate.

    “That’s my brother,” she said needlessly. She didn’t know how to end their conversation, let alone respond to his frank admission. “I guess I’ll see you inside.”

    She winced internally. How foolish had that sounded?

    As she stood and rearranged her purse on her shoulder, he simply smiled. “Sure. Congrats to your brother.”

    “Yours as well,” she murmured, then awkwardly turned her back and hurried to Natsuo. 

.

.

He watched her leave, absently massaging his palm with his thumb. He’d come here for a breather, but hadn’t expected to breathe that deeply. 

    Why did he say that? Say those things about it not being easy. He knew it wasn’t easy. He’d been living it for almost three years. He’d come to terms with it long ago and was mostly accustomed to the new ways he did things now. 

    So why did the words come so freely?

    Because she’s not your parents . 

    This woman was willing to ask questions and listen to him. She didn’t try to brush off his admission, tell him, “ Well, you should be used to it by now . What are you going to do next, Tensei? What’s the plan? ”

    The plan. It was always a plan. 

    She might have felt uneasy at the nonchalant way he brought it up, and he didn’t fault her that, but he watched her push on and ask, as if she were used to acting like an awkward occurrence had never happened. 

    “Tensei.”

    He glanced up, and his brother approached in that amusingly tidy and neat way of his. His brother’s eyes watched the woman leave, and then he strode to his side. 

    “There you are,” he told him. “Mother and Father were asking about you.”

    “I’m sure,” he said flatly, but endeavored to keep the smile on his face. “I was just resting.”

    And there was Tenya’s customary brow furrowing with mother hen-like concern. 

    “I’m fine,” he said, anticipating him. Tensei braced his hands against his knees and let the machine lift him to his feet. Let his limbs settle in the frame. The feeling wasn’t annoying, but it wasn’t the most comfortable. He’d rather have brought his chair, but his parents insisted. 

    Tenya walked alongside him back to the auditorium. It took some time, but his brother eventually learned to trust him and refrain from asking his usual queries. 

    Instead, Tenya said, “Why were you talking with Todoroki-san?”

    The name had his focus snapping to him. “You know her?”

    He shrugged. “That’s Todoroki Fuyumi. Endeavor’s daughter? Sister of my classmate, Todoroki Shoto?”

    Tensei lifted a brow at him, but then the answer made him laugh. “Do you keep tabs on everyone’s families, prez?”

    Tenya leveled a flat look at him. 

    He so did. 

    But… she was a Todoroki?

    “What did she say?” Tenya asked, interrupting his thoughts. 

    “She was looking for someone and found me. We just made casual conversation until she left. Why are you so interested?”

    It wasn’t so much that Tenya was interested in what they spoke about, he knew, but more so concerned for him. This was one habit that would die hard for his brother.

    He looped an arm around Tenya’s neck. “Do you know how happy I’ll be when you’re so busy with work you won’t have time to fret about me?”

    “You underestimate my time management abilities.”

    He grinned, shoving the physical discomfort he felt to another corner of his mind to deal with later. “Kid, do me a favor and drink a beer at the after party with your friends.”

.

.

Three months later

The kids raced down the halls around her as Fuyumi kept a brisk pace toward her colleague’s classroom. She hadn’t meant to lose track of time but she hoped the other teacher was still in the classroom, since she wasn’t yet back at her desk in the teachers’ offices. She could see through the windows that the students in 1B were still inside, though curiously out of their seats and crowded round the front of the room. 

    Her fellow teacher watched from the side. Fuyumi slid open the door so as not to disturb them, and she halted in the doorway, blinking in surprise. 

    She remembered that oddly sunny smile underneath tired eyes, the slightly disheveled dark hair. Only this time…

    “Do you, like, race in the chair? Can you go super fast?” One of the thirteen-year-old boys asked.

    A female classmate clucked her tongue. “That’s so rude.”

    The man laughed. “It’s not rude. Let’s just say… I can’t race all the time.” He added a wink and the boys burst into a cacophony of cheers while the girls giggled behind their hands. 

    The teacher clapped. “Okay, enough. We’ve gone past our time. You all are on hallway cleaning duty this week, so get going.”

Fuyumi might have - should have - just waited in the teachers’ office, but even as the kids streamed out around her, she found her gaze caught by the man she still didn’t have a name for and the light of recognition in his eyes had her feet glued to the floor.

    “Todoroki-san,” he greeted, and she felt her face heat slightly. He knew her name. 

    Her colleague asked her what she came for, and Fuyumi couldn’t for the life of her remember. Her colleague excused herself. 

    “I realize I didn’t introduce myself before,” he said once they were alone. “I’m Iida Tensei.”

    The name struck a bell in her mind. And then she placed it. She saw the name some days ago in the office, as he was a registered guest coming to speak with students. His name, coupled with the embarrassing belated recognition of the small exhaust pipes extending from his arms and of who he was had her blurting out, “Of course you are–”

    Once again she cringed at herself and made a hasty bow. “I mean, it’s nice to meet you… again. I’m so sorry, I should have realized…”

    Iida tilted his head. “No apologies necessary. Why should you have known?”

    Now she felt at a loss. “I don’t know. I guess it’s just… you’re you .”

    He masked an amused smile with a casually placed hand. 

    She gulped. “Okay. Goodbye.” Retreat.

    “Todoroki-san.”

    Fuyumi had turned, but once again she stopped. 

    “Are you done for the day?”

    She met his gaze again, blinking. “I am.”

    He pushed the hand rims with ease and rolled toward her. “I’m finished too. Would you like to go with me to the cafe down the street?”

    As embarrassed as she felt she had so far never felt uneasy around him. She was surprised when the answer came almost automatically. 

    “Yes,” she said. 

    The entire walk to the cafe, Fuyumi couldn’t help but think about the situation and how foolish she felt. She remembered seeing it in the news years ago. Ingenium injured by the hero killer, Stain. He had survived, unlike those before him. And here he was, rolling along beside her. 

No longer Ingenium. Who was he?

And why her?

They sat at an outdoor table. She quickly, and she thought she was subtle enough, moved a chair so he had room to position himself at the table. She finally sat herself and glanced to him, he had a small smile lifting the corners of his lips. Fuyumi self-consciously tucked her hair behind her ear. 

“Yes?” She asked after a swallow.

“I’m just thinking,” he began, “that you remind me a little of my brother.”

The unexpected words had her blinking. 

He laughed. “He’s considerate, to a fault. He can be a worrier, and an overly diligent caretaker. Please, don’t take that the wrong way.”

Because she could sense that he didn’t mean it in an accusatory way, she finally let her breath out in a small laugh. “I’m afraid I’m quite used to it.”

“Used to what?”

She wrapped her hands around her cup. “Taking care of people.”

For a moment she watched Iida’s eyes search her face, going serious for a blink-and-miss-it moment. 

Then he smiled again. “So, if I remember correctly, the last we met you were about to ask me a question.”

How did he remember that? How did she ?

She chuckled nervously. “It’s alright. It’s a prying question, and I shouldn’t have.”

His voice softened. “No, please. Ask away.” When she hesitated, he said, “I really don’t mind. People are curious. It’s what I do now – I go around to schools and speak to kids about it. Open their eyes, their minds. It’s very… satisfying.”

Because she could sense that too, she felt a wall she didn’t know she had lowering. Something inside her making her lean unconsciously toward him as he spoke. 

She said, “You said it was uncomfortable, being in the… walking apparatus. Why do you do it then?”

“Did I say it was uncomfortable?”

“You said it wasn’t easy. Even though it was the easier option.”

He sighed. “I suppose one reason is that it helps physical rehab.” He grimaced. “Sort of. But as for the other reason… you could say some people still have expectations, and it’s easier to conform for the sake of getting through a tedious meeting.”

She pouted. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

“I suppose it doesn’t seem fair. I very well could show up in the chair and damn what anyone thinks. I’m not self conscious of it. But…” his gaze focused someplace behind her. “Sometimes you have to pick your battles.”

He was definitely thinking of someone in particular, but Fuyumi wouldn’t go there.

To dispel some of the creeping awkwardness, she did what she did best: press forward with a mask of positivity. 

She was about to ask how his brother was doing since graduation, but before she could open her mouth he spoke.

“I have to amend my statement. You’re only a little like my brother.”

She startled anew. “How so?”

“While you’re both considerate, he’s very hawkish. I’m realizing now that you’re more… subtle.”

It made her face heat again, but she tried not to shrink from it. She’d been working hard on that these past few years. 

“You’re very forward with your thoughts,” she replied.

He laughed. “I’m not the secretive type.”

He wasn’t, and she found herself liking his forwardness. She wished she could be like that more. Lately it had been easier, because her family was… better than they used to be. But she figured her reservedness would always be a part of her. 

“If it’s not forward of me to ask,” he said, “I’d like to see you again sometime.”

She swallowed, every thought in her head bottoming out for a brief moment. He wanted to see her again? 

He withdrew a pen from the inner pocket of his jacket and wrote his phone number on a napkin. Slid it to her. 

The smile curled the edges of her lips before she knew it was happening. She put the napkin in her purse. 

Be forward, Fuyumi. 

“Maybe we can do this again next weekend,” she said.

“I’d like that.”

Eternity –but perhaps only a few seconds – passed before a cold drop of water plunked onto the table between them. 

She glanced up. When had the sky gotten so grey?

Rain showered down in a sudden pour. Pedestrians whipped out their umbrellas and Fuyumi scrambled for her purse. 

She extended her own umbrella and didn’t think twice when she skirted the table to sit in the chair beside him and hold the umbrella over them both. 

.

.

She sat so close to him, it made him breathless for a moment. The whole time he couldn’t seem to stop watching those solemn grey eyes behind her glasses. Eyes that were more expressive than he wagered she knew.

Now they were so close, framed by long white lashes. Her hair, streaked with red, began coming loose in small tendrils from her bun. She smelled light, clean.

He shouldn’t be so interested in her already. He’d only met her twice. He shouldn’t be so interested in someone who reminded him of his brother. The women he’d gone on dates with before weren’t like her. They tended to be outspoken and jovial. More like him. Was that why he couldn’t stay interested in them long? 

Todoroki Fuyumi caused a sudden desire in him to know her. To get underneath the pleasant shell and know the woman in full. 

Easy, Tensei. You’re going to need to take your time . 

So he dragged his gaze away from her mouth and wet his tongue. “We should get inside.”

She nodded, and kept him under the umbrella during the short dash to the inside of the cafe. 

“Will you be able to get home okay?” She asked. “How did you even get to the school?”

He chuckled. “I wish I could say I flew, but I can drive.” She looked ready to leave, so he asked, “Will you be okay?”

She was watching the windows, and then blinked at him like she’d never been asked the question before. “Yes. My car is parked at the school. It won’t be any trouble to walk back.” She glanced at her bag, and before leaving she said, “I’ll text you, about this weekend.”

He smiled. “It’s a date.”

That soft smile smoothed her worried brow. “It’s a date.”

.

.

A month later

He was truly fascinated by her. The woman walking beside him bloomed like a budding flower the more he saw her. And they met weekly, often after school for tea or dinner and at least once during the weekends too. 

She was prone to bursts of excitement, a wondrously child-like contrast to her usual composed maturity. He liked both. Her eyes would sparkle behind her glasses, her laughter so innocent-sounding. 

He had invited her to the local early summer festival, and when he met her there, looking up as she approached, wide smile, waving to him, the grin leapt to his face.

“You look beautiful,” he told her. Her hair was down, her lips stained pink. She wore a breezy summer blouse and strappy sandals with a bit of heel. 

“Thank you,” she replied. “You’re walking today.”

He touched the frame instinctively. Gestured his chin to the festival that wound its way through the local park. “The pathways here aren’t very chair friendly. Shall we?”

He led her into the festival, and while he planned to be witty and charming he found himself listening to her be witty and charming. The more comfortable she grew with him the more she talked, and now he simply walked with her as she saw some trinket that reminded her of a story about one of her brothers, or saw a favorite festival candy she explained she hadn’t had in years. 

She found a certain candy and bought some. “My mother likes these,” she said. “She wanted me to get some if I found any.”

“You told your mother about our date?” He asked, the thought making him feel light inside. So far, he hadn’t been aware that she told anyone.

She nodded, a bit sheepishly. “When she found out I was going she… my mother doesn’t pester, but she exploited my weakness against her to find out who I was going with.”

He laughed. “Exploited your weakness?”

She sighed. “Yes. I told you before, my mother was… not well for a long time. I treated her like a delicate piece of porcelain because I thought I needed to. I underestimated her and now since she’s been better she tries to get me to…”

“To what?”

She looked like she was trying to find the right words. “To get me to do what I want to do.” She glanced at him, her eyes deep with meaning. Then she laughed under her breath and averted her gaze in that way she did when she thought she said too much. “That’s all just a roundabout way of saying I dote on her too much and she used it against me.”

“Because you care.”

“Hmm?”

They had arrived an hour before sunset, and now the setting sun was casting golden light over the tops of the festival tents and her hair. Her eyes glittered like a sunset over still waters. 

He swallowed and backtracked. “So, what is it you want to do?”

She rubbed the soft fabric of a booth’s displayed shawls between her fingers. “I don’t think I know,” she said, wistfully. Then she looked up at him. “I haven’t been to a festival since I was a child. I like doing this. With you.”

His heart thudded against his ribs, something hopeful and giddy throbbing under his skin. “Do you like that one?” He asked.

“The color is very pretty.”

Tensei moved to the booth’s seller and paid swiftly for the shawl. He returned to her, her mouth dropped open, and he took the shawl and draped it over her shoulders. 

“The sun will be gone soon,” he said. “It’ll get cooler.”

Lanterns flickered on with the coming dark, kids lit sparklers, and a warm glow suffused the park. 

He inclined his head up the path. “Come on.”

She walked with him, held the shawl closed, and said, “Thank you.”

If she was taken aback by him purchasing the shawl, she didn’t stay so for long. He returned to watching her interact with the festival, listened to her talk, and when she studiously browsed the flavor offerings of a mochi cart he smiled.

“Which are you getting?” He asked.

She ignored him and made her selections. She got a small box of orange colored mochi, and another box of assorted flavors. 

She turned to him with the assorted box and removed one, holding it out to him. “Here,” she said, looking at him expectantly. 

“What flavor?”

She grinned. “Guess.”

He took the mochi from her fingers and bit into it, recognizing the flavor instantly. He laughed. “Grapefruit.”

“I figured you could use some energy to get through this festival,” she said with a giggle. 

The subtle joke, which was uncommon from her, had his fingers twitching, itching to reach out, cradle her face, and kiss her. It was a sudden, near-overwhelming need.

And then she said, “I’ll hold onto the other box for now, but the orange flavored ones are for your brother.”

He blinked. “For Tenya?”

“If he’s working just as hard as Shoto is right now, then I’m sure he would appreciate a treat.”

During one of their many dates over the past month he recalled telling her offhand about his and Tenya’s respective fuel flavors. It was so casual he didn’t think she’d remember. 

She bought his brother mochi. She bought her mother candy. She hadn’t bought anything for herself, which was why he felt compelled to buy the shawl for her. 

And he wanted to get her more than just that, he realized. 

At the end of the night, he offered to drive her home. He had told her before about his ability to drive too. His father had sponsored not only his walking frame, but he had sponsored the same engineers to develop a car that linked to his chair and leg tech and allowed him to drive. 

He didn’t use it often with the frame, but he was glad he made the decision to use it tonight. 

Fuyumi accepted the offer and he drove her home. 

She told him that she had grown up in her father’s home, and until the past year lived there taking care of her brothers. When her mother came home, it signaled a change. Shoto was graduating, and would work full time with their father. Natsuo would be entering medical school soon. The thought of being in that big house alone unnerved her, she said. So she and her mother moved into a house together, not too far from her father’s house.

Tensei pulled up to the curb now, in front of a small manicured front garden lit by path lights. Her mother had left the porch light on. 

He exited the car, rounded to the other side to open her door. He wanted every minute left with her that he could get. 

She exited clutching the shawl closed over her chest and holding the bag of treats she’d bought throughout the night. 

“Thank you for showing me the festival,” she said, smiling up at him. “I hope we can go to the next one.”

He swallowed. “It’s a deal.”

She giggled. “It’s a date .”

He caught her hand, his body seeming to move on its own, fulfilling a desire he’d held all night. She didn’t look confused. She simply waited, waiting for him. 

So he touched her cheek, smooth under his fingers, and he leaned down to brush his lips lightly over hers. She inhaled sharply, drawing the air from his lungs. 

Her hands moved up his arms, she rose onto her toes, and Tensei drew her in for the kiss. 

He liked the way her mouth fit with his. He liked the way that the constant discomfort when he wore the frame melted away. He liked the subtle radiance she emanated into him. 

“Todoroki–”

“Fuyumi.”

He grinned. “Fuyumi. Good night.”

“Good night, Tensei.”

.

.

She turned when she reached her front door. He was waiting for her to go in. She waved, he waved back, and she stepped inside, shutting the door at her back, flicking on the hall light. 

“You look quite satisfied.”

She jumped, clapping her hand to her chest. “Mom, you scared me.”

Her mother sat at the kitchen table, a book in her hands and tea at her side. 

“Why are you up?” She asked, trying for a casual smile, but sensing she was failing. 

Her mother said, “It’s not even ten, Fuyumi.”

“Oh.”

She smiled. “Is that a new shawl?”

Fuyumi pressed her lips together. 

Finally, her mother laughed softly. “Darling, why do you look so afraid? Did you have a good time?”

Because she did have a good time, and the buzz was still making her cheeks feel warm, she put her bag down and smiled. “Yes. It was lovely.”

Her mother peered at her as if she could see something Fuyumi couldn’t. “Do you like him, Fuyumi?”

She liked how easy she felt around him, she liked his kindness and the charming glimmer in his eyes – eyes that didn’t look as tired anymore as when she first met him – and she liked the way he regarded everything with positivity. She liked his kiss, and the gentle way he held her. 

It felt so easy that she realized it never even occurred to her to brush off the interest, the advances with her usual excuses. 

I have to take care of my family. 

I have to take care of my mother.

Her mother wanted her to do what she liked now. 

Fuyumi met her mother’s eyes. “I do.”

.

.

He watched her cook in his kitchen. Watched her hum along to the jazzy music he played low and bob her head to the beat. She cooked with a smile on her face – obviously in her element. 

For a month now since he kissed her the first time he felt like that was all he wanted to do was watch her. She tended to be a quiet woman, but if he watched her long enough he saw that what she didn’t express with words she expressed wholly with her face. Sometimes he laughed to himself as she had entire silent trains of thought play out on her face, to the point that he knew half the time what she was saying to herself. 

She also worked around his adapted kitchen with ease, taking all of the lowered appliances and countertops in stride, as if she’d worked with them as long as he had. Of course he had told her about it along the way. His home was promptly adapted with clearance underneath the countertops, lowered shelving and cabinets, every appliance and piece of furniture within reach. It was one of the first things he… compromised on with his parents. They wanted him to use the walking frame, he demanded an adapted home. 

They pursed their lips and thought it unnecessary – why spend money to change his home when he could learn to walk again? 

No matter how many times he told them it could never work like that…

Fuyumi was in front of him now, placing his plate on the table between his wine glass and his chopsticks. She sat herself and her own plate adjacent to him, leaning ever so slightly toward him. 

“My famous mapo tofu,” she pronounced. 

He grinned. “Famous?”

“Well, Shoto’s friends like it. Natsuo eats anything and everything, so his palate isn’t very discerning.”

“Does your father like it too?”

She tilted her head in thought. “He won’t say outright, he’s so stubborn, but I think he does. Or did… when I lived with him.”

He sipped his wine and watched her eat a couple bites. “Do you miss living with him?”

She propped her chin in her hand. Her gaze at the table top going deep. “Sometimes. Especially since in the past couple years we’ve… gotten along better. I was afraid of it ending. But my mother… she needed me.”

She thought her father needed her, so she stayed. Her mother needed her, so she stayed. Tensei wondered… he thought idly if sometime, down the road, he found himself… needing her, would she stay? 

Too soon, Tensei. That kind of thinking is…

Too deep? Too raw? Too full of hope and premature declarations that neither of them were ready for yet? 

Still, he couldn’t stop himself from reaching his hand out and lacing his fingers with hers across the tabletop, stroking her hand lightly. 

She hadn’t told him everything, but he was beginning to piece together more and more of her family’s history. And he thought his parents were one of a kind. Perhaps it was one reason why he found her so fascinating. 

“Feeling needed can be fulfilling,” he said.

She lifted her smiling eyes at him. “It can.” Then she released his hand, brought her chair closer to him. Now she leaned forward, her face so close to him he could kiss her easily. She grabbed his hand again and said, “Tensei, do you remember when you asked me what I wanted? When I told you that my mother asked me the same thing?”

He nodded, momentarily speechless. 

“I still may not know exactly, but I know I want you.”

His blood thrummed in his veins. That impossible hope he felt earlier felt now a little less impossible. And if she could admit that to him, then he could admit something to her.

“No other woman has told me that,” he said. 

Her brows drew together. “Really?”

He chuckled, patted his thigh. “They’re a bit afraid of me, nowadays.”

She pouted. “They didn’t deserve you.”

He grinned. It was one of the most scathing remarks he’d ever heard her make. He threaded his fingers into her hair, below her ear, and guided her mouth up to meet his. The kiss was languishing and they always seemed to resume where they left off the previous time, softly exploring, savoring the tastes and touches. 

Only this time his fingers trailed down the side of her neck and she shivered, a tiny moan escaping her, and it pushed every rational thought out of his head. He cupped her face and coaxed her closer and she rose from her chair, setting her glasses on the table. He wrapped his arm around her waist and brought her onto his lap, his hand skimming up her thigh. 

She held his face between her hands and kissed him until they both had to pause for gulping breaths. Her long lashes fluttered over her cheeks, her lips slightly swollen. She traced her fingertips featherlight over his temple and he leaned his brow against hers, as content as a satisfied cat.

He considered himself lucky. He didn’t use the word girlfriend often, because he sometimes still felt like if he did he’d wake up from a dream. But now he had her in his arms, and she wanted him. Could he be luckier?

He’d always known, however, that no matter how lucky he felt, there was something around the corner. And that something took an insufferably human form.

Later, he watched her drive away, thinking the night a success. He wheeled himself back inside, putting the wine bottle away, picking up stray clutter here and there. He almost didn’t want to go to bed yet, for fear that dream-feeling would return.

He had something else to fear instead.

The sound of his front door unlocking had him turning. His relaxed smile fell and his mouth drew into a tight line.

“Tensei.”

“Hi, Dad.”

His father entered like he owned the house, which Tensei had proudly pointed out time and time again that he did not. He always regarded the adapted furniture and features with a vague distaste. Tensei wondered more than anything where the devastated man from the hospital had gone. Back then he had helped him convalesce, he saw the pain and sorrow in his father’s eyes slowly morph into rigid expectation. As if his condition was something to get over, and not his new normal. 

His father didn’t bother with small talk this time. He said, “That was Todoroki Fuyumi.”

Tensei’s blood chilled. He tried not to let it show on his face. God, please don’t.

His father must have seen something, because he waved it off. “Tenya told me you were seeing her.” He wasn’t mad at Tenya, because he knew his father must have twisted it out of him. “I have to say, Tensei, this is good.”

His heart thumped. “What do you mean?”

There was a glow to his father’s eye he didn’t like. “Have you met Endeavor yet?”

“No–”

He hummed. “That’s alright. I can broach a meeting with him on my own.”

“Dad. Stop. What are you talking about?”

His father gave him The Look. “Don’t act oblivious, Tensei. You’ve got a Todoroki. I wasn’t expecting this, and at first I wasn’t sure, but I quickly realized the benefit. Since you stubbornly refuse to meet the women I find for you, this situation satisfies us both, I should think.”

The last thing he wanted was for Fuyumi to enter his father’s radar. His schemes and his obsession with the Iida legacy.

“She’s not a situation,” he grit through his teeth. “My life isn’t yours to orchestrate.”

He leveled a look at him like he was being a petulant child. “Tensei. You are thirty-four. If that girl likes you, then this is your best and only shot–”

“Get out,” he seethed. “Don’t you speak to me like that ever again.”

“You’re being childish.”

“Go,” he repeated. “And if I find out you’ve gone behind my back and spoken to her or her father, I promise you I will cut ties for good.”

“I do this for you.”

“Leave.” Before he said something he’ll truly regret. 

“Another time then,” his father parted with. 

Alone once more, Tensei rubbed his face, the headache coming on swiftly. The pounding of annoyance was soon replaced by the cold squeeze of anxiety. 

Would his father really approach Endeavor? Would he approach Fuyumi ? Would she think Tensei was trying this whole time to arrange a marriage as quickly as possible? What would she think of him then? 

He didn’t want to think of those consequences. Since his accident, he had been fortunate many times; he had been given opportunity in the face of his life becoming altered. 

But he’d never had anything as good as her. 

And now his father was going to ruin it. 

.

.

Unease stirred in her belly, more and more each day. 

Fuyumi wasn’t clingy by nature, so when a couple days passed without a text or call from Tensei, she didn’t worry about it. She understood – life got in the way sometimes. 

But then when she texted, she got no reply. She kept it casual, too. She didn’t want to come off needy. A few days turned into a week, and she still hadn’t heard a word from him. 

What made it worse were the dreams at night – the dreams where her mind reminded her of the feel of his hands holding her, sliding up her thigh, of his mouth coaxing hers open, kissing down her throat to hum deliciously at the hollow. If she didn’t like him so much she might have found the sensual dreams silly and even a little embarrassing. But she wanted to touch him back, lose herself in his kisses, lay with him and talk about everything and nothing late into the dark of the night. 

And wasn’t that a revelation? 

I want you , she had told him. Did he change his mind? Did she scare him off? He had kissed her after she said that, so she hoped not. But what else was she supposed to think when he wouldn’t–

“Fuyumi.”

She jumped.

“You’ve been stirring that pot for five minutes now.”

Oh, that’s right. She was cooking. Shoto raised his eyebrow but said nothing more.

“I’m fine,” she said.

“Did I ask if you were?”

He caught her, so she aimed a pout at him. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.”

“Shoto, it’s nothing.”

Shoto hummed. Tapped on his phone. “Iida is coming over in a bit.”

She whirled. “Iida?”

He flicked a look up at her. “My friend, Iida Tenya?”

Her heart stuttered. “Oh.”

“He said he needed a quick word so don’t worry about feeding him.”

Fuyumi gnawed on her lip, willing her racing heart to calm. Tenya couldn’t know anything about how his brother was acting, could he? Would it be impertinent of her to ask?

All too soon, the doorbell rang and Shoto left the room, entering again with Tenya. 

Tenya stopped short when he saw her, and Fuyumi didn’t expect that reaction. 

He knew something.

As if remembering himself, Tenya executed a swift bow and greeted her. “Todoroki-san. I didn’t know you’d be here.”

Shoto said, “She comes by weekly to cook for us. Thinks we’re starving otherwise.”

After a brief silence, Shoto asked him what he needed to talk about. 

He had a conflicted look on his face, and when his gaze met Fuyumi’s he sighed. “I think you need to be involved at this point,” he told her. “I don’t know what to do on my own. I don’t know if I can do anything on my own.”

“What is it?” She asked. 

“It’s Tensei.”

Her heart kickstarted again. “Is something wrong?”

“What does my sister have to do with your brother?”

“They’re dating,” he said, as if he couldn’t believe Shoto didn’t know.

Shoto’s brows shot up and Fuyumi said, “I haven’t told them.”

Tenya shook his head. “In any case, Tensei hasn’t been himself. He’s angry, and when he’s angry he doesn’t talk to anyone, even me. And trust me, he rarely gets angry.”

Her heart sunk. “He hasn’t talked to me in a week.”

“I think I have an idea as to why.”

“You do?”

“It’s you.”

The devastation must have read on her face because he quickly amended, “I mean, you’re not the cause. Well, you are, but not like that!”

Heavy footsteps interrupted him, and the three of them swung around to find her father in the kitchen entry. He gave each of them a glance, and then his gaze returned to her. 

“Well. This makes more sense now,” he said. 

“What does?” Shoto asked.

“Fuyumi. Are you seeing Iida Tensei?”

She wished a hole would open up in the ground and swallow her. “Yes.”

“Ah.”

“Ah?” Shoto questioned, hopelessly out of the loop.

“Sir,” Tenya began, “my father must have–”

“He did. I wondered why I had received a letter – on official letterhead – from him. The letter mentioned a ‘fortuitous union.’ Iida, your father can be an overly florid man.”

Tenya cringed. “I know.”

“I think I know what this fortuitous union is now.”

Her father’s gaze landed on her and she swallowed. 

“Fuyumi, are you engaged to him?”

The breath whooshed out. “No.”

“Have you spoken about it?”

“No!”

“Then he’s intending for it.”

“He’s not…”

Tenya said, “Sir, my brother wouldn’t go behind anyone’s back to arrange something like this.”

“I don’t mean your brother,” her father replied, his brows pulling together. “I mean your father.”

“Ah, yes. It’s most likely.”

“I’ll talk to him.”

Fuyumi lurched forward. Everything was going too fast. “No, please don’t! I need to think… I need to talk to Tensei first.”

A silence blanketed the kitchen, and Shoto coughed. “Iida… let’s step outside.”

Fuyumi fiddled with her fingers under her father’s heavy stare. 

“Are you sure?” He asked.

“If he’s angry because of this, and that’s why he’s stopped talking to me, then I’m the one that deserves answers,” she said, her stomach flipping at the thought. 

“I can talk to him–”

“No, Dad,” she interrupted, her voice firmer, her resolve slowly building itself back up. “I need to.”

He watched her, with that critical gaze that she used to be afraid of. But now there was something more earnest behind it. 

He said, his voice lowered, “Fuyumi. I won’t let them force you to do anything.”

A lump welled in the back of her throat. 

“I’ve been there, and I won’t let it happen again. Not to you.”

“Dad, I can handle it. I’m used to handling things on my own.”

He sighed. “I know.”

She tried for a small smile, because watching her father struggle was… endearing. “But if I need help, I’ll come to you, okay?”

.

.

She waited until the next day to call him. Her mind was too jumbled to call him that same night. She didn’t have much of a plan aside from confirming if his father meant to do what she thought. Tensei was obviously mad about it, and she could imagine why, but to not even speak to her? 

She felt… too many emotions for him to let him go. She didn’t want to let him go. 

So on that weekend morning, with nothing to do after she had putted around the kitchen, she opened her phone and took a deep breath. Dialed his number.

When he answered, he said her name, low, like a warning. She swallowed.

“Hi Tensei,” she greeted, trying first for light and casual. “I was going to come over today, so–”

“Don’t,” he spat. “Do not come here.”

A stab of hurt that morphed slowly into anger. “Tensei–”

“Fuyumi, I said no. That’s final.”

And then he hung up. 

She stared at the call-ended screen, her mouth falling open in failed protest. 

Brushed off. Ignored. Commanded. The recipient of someone’s anger. It was all familiar, and hot moisture beaded at her eyes.

Her whole body tensed, and then she set her jaw. Never again. 

It was the furious pounding of her heart and complicated affection she still held for him despite his words that propelled her through the house, snatching her bag off the chair and stomping to the genkan to shove her feet into her shoes. 

Fate chose that moment to bring a knock on her door, and with a bad feeling roiling in her stomach she reached out for the door handle.

A familiar face greeted her with an overly wide smile. Not that familiar, but the bone structure was the same, the thick, dark brows over eyes that smiled without the genuine kindness of Tensei’s. 

“Good morning,” he said. “My name is Iida Toshiaki.”

Though she knew this was Tensei’s father, and he had issues with his father, good manners were still ingrained in her. She offered a hesitant smile and said, “Todoroki Fuyumi.”

His eyes crinkled, as if to say, I know . 

“A pleasure to meet you. I was hoping to speak with Endeavor. We’ve been corresponding, you see.”

If corresponding could be defined as a single-sided message. 

Fuyumi debated it, but finally said, “He doesn’t live here.”

He pursed his lips, another false reaction. “My apologies. I was sure I had the address correct.”

Her spine itched. This fake interaction kept her from going to Tensei. Her patience was nearing it’s limit. 

“I’ll reach out to him at a later time, but,” he said, as if the idea just came to mind, “Tensei has told me about you. It’s nice to finally meet the girl he enjoys spending time with.”

And the girl you’re conniving to be your daughter-in-law.  

She knew he was planning for it. She didn’t like it. But she also knew she still wanted Tensei, no matter what his father was trying to do. Because she cared for him, because it didn’t matter what anyone wanted but her and Tensei, she tilted her head to the side and said, “Sir, I’ve been made aware of your… ideas about the two of us.”

He blinked in surprise, but rallied swiftly. “This is wonderful news then. Makes it all easier, don’t you think?–”

Her brows slowly knit, her jaw tightening again. “With all due respect, my relationship with Tensei is nobody’s business but ours. I won’t let either one of us be swayed by expectations.”

His gaze narrowed on her. She couldn’t back down now. She willed her spine to stay straight.

“Thank you for your visit,” she said tightly. “Have a great rest of your day.”

His expression was still displeased, but he bowed his head and replied low, “You as well.”

When she closed the door again, the tension left her body and she almost staggered. It was the first time in her life that she had gone against decorum and etiquette. Her heart skittered with nerves and she clamped down on the anxiety. 

A soft voice said, “Fuyumi.”

She jumped and found her mother standing in the hallway, half inside the door to her bedroom. The gaze she set on her was a little sad, but also proud. 

In her slippers she shuffled quietly toward her and slid her small, soft hands to frame her face. 

“Go, darling,” she said. “You’re stronger than you know.”

Fuyumi pushed down the lump rising in her throat and nodded. “Yes, mama.”

Outside, she scanned the street, hoping he was truly gone. Then she got in her car and drove purposely to Tensei’s home. 

Up the ramp and knocking heavily on his door. The rush of adrenaline kept her steadfast, having had the drive time to solidify what she was going to say to him. 

Her first surprise when he opened the door was that he was standing, in the frame. The second surprise was that his lip curled on sight of her, and he growled her name. 

If she hadn’t encountered his father, she might have shrunk away, lost all of her courage. But she was tired of being disrespected.

She breezed into the house like he hadn’t snarled at her. “Hello, Tensei.”

“I told you to stay away.”

“I can’t fathom why,” she replied.

“You’re going to get caught up in something you don’t need to be–”

“You mean your father hoping to arrange our marriage?” She questioned, setting her bag on a chair and turning to meet him eye to eye.

He was stunned into silence, and then she watched a more potent fury light his eyes. It darkened the tired smudges under them and a part of her heart twisted seeing the shadows. But concern could come later.

He said, “He spoke to you.”

“He sent a letter to my father, and then he came to my house.”

His hands flexed into fists and he breathed hard through his nose. “I told him not to.”

“I’m sure you did.”

He stepped forward. “Believe me. I did.”

Her brow lowered. “I know. I’m not doubting you.”

He stepped forward again, and he said her name, his voice cracking slightly at the end, the anger fading into anguish. “Fuyumi, this wasn’t my plan. Wasn’t my intention.”

“I know that too.”

“Then… why–”

“Why didn’t you talk to me? Why did you ignore me for a week?”

“I needed to try to stop him before he could start. I needed to keep him away from you. But I see I couldn’t even stop that. The more he knows we’re together, the harder he’s going to push–”

“No.”

He blinked. “No?”

It was hot and uncomfortable and so unlike her. But still natural. “You don’t get to decide how we go about this. I’ve had decisions made for me almost my whole life. I’ve been ignored and placated and treated like spare company to have around.”

“I’ve never considered you that way.”

“I won’t be abandoned again,” she cried with clenched fists, her own voice cracking. She had nothing left in her but pride. It was the only thing keeping her upright and not in a puddle of tears.

Tensei closed his mouth, his shoulders sinking, no longer primed with rage. “Ever since I was little, he put me in training, monitored my schooling, managed my career in the background. When the incident happened, he grieved with me, but then he turned harder, colder. I was then something to fix. Something to set up so our name and our reputation wouldn’t sink. He’s already started managing Tenya, and I’ll be damned if he starts interfering in your life too.”

All of her steam gone, and sad for the boy who’s problems were opposite hers, she gave in. She stepped in and slid her arms around his middle, tucking herself under his chin. 

She said, “Nobody’s going to force me to do anything. Not anymore. If I marry you, Tensei, it’s because I alone choose to.” 

His chest inflated with a breath. Then his arms closed around her and he pressed his brow to hers. “I’m… I’m so sorry.”

“You’re not alone,” she told him.

“Neither are you.”

“We’ll face your father together if we have to.” 

He sighed. “What… what did he say to you?”

She smiled, “He was happy to find out I already knew about his plan.” Tensei winced. “And I happily told him that our relationship is none of his business.”

The smile spread at last, putting that glimmer back in his eye that she’d missed. “He must have been trembling in his shined loafers.”

“I don’t like swearing. I don’t even like getting angry. I’ve been around it too much in my life. But I… I almost told him where he could stick his plan.”

He chuckled. “I wouldn’t have held it against you.”

“I told him to leave, and then I came here.”

“That happened this morning?”

“Your brother came to our house to warn me last night.”

“He did?”

“Don’t blame him for telling your father.”

“I don’t blame him. Tenya’s already apologized profusely for it.”

It was a little bold of her, but if she had the courage to face down his father and his misplaced wrath, then she could do this. Her gaze flicked to his lips. “Do you know how you can apologize to me?”

“I already did.”

She pouted and he laughed, his head falling back with it. He cradled the nape of her neck and lowered his mouth to hers, his familiar playful joy returned to him. This was Tensei, but Tensei was also the man who was hard with fury and regret and pain. Fuyumi was gentle, she was soft and she saw the good in everyone. But she was also the woman who wouldn’t be pushed around anymore. She learned something about both of them that day. 

“Why are you standing?” She asked after the kiss had slowed and his thumb softly stroked her cheek. She remembered the discomfort in his eyes from before. He never used the frame in his own home.

“I was going to go after him,” he said. “I’ve been trying all week.”

Shock had her stepping back. “You’ve been wearing that all week? No wonder you look so tired. Where’s your chair?” She cast around for it, hoping it was behind the couch or by the table. 

He laughed again and snatched her hand, tugging her back into him. “I want nothing more than to get out of this. But there is something I want more.”

She licked her lips and anticipated another kiss. “What is it?”

His mouth hovered over hers, his nose nuzzling her faintly. Then he said, “Mapo tofu.”

She hit him.

.

.

.

.

Some time later

“Hey, Iida.”

Tenya looked over at his friend, who was feeding himself festival candy one by one, that distinctly aloof look on his face. 

“Yes?”

“We’re gonna be brothers-in-law, huh?”

Tenya almost choked on his drink, whipping his gaze from Shoto to his brother and Fuyumi moving along ahead of them, her arm draped across his shoulders while he pushed his wheels. 

“What?” He exclaimed, incredulously. “Already?”

Shoto looked at him, baffled. “Already?”

With Shoto, it was sometimes best to stop and start from the beginning. “Did my brother propose?”

“No,” he said, popping another candy into his mouth. 

“Then why did you say we’re going to be brothers-in-law?”

Shoto shrugged. “It’ll happen, like, in the future, right?”

Tenya sighed a long suffering sigh. “Todoroki, you can’t go around saying stuff like that if it isn’t true.”

“Well, they’re dating, so we’re kinda like–”

“We’re kind of not like in-laws if they’re not married yet.”

Shoto smiled. “But it could happen.”

He sighed again. “Could, possibly, yes. But until they are, then we’re not–”

“She’s happier now.”

Tenya closed his mouth, glancing at them once more, seeing the smile on her face, seeing the relaxed joy on his brother’s. “Tensei is too.”

“I bet I can get him to make me his best man.”

Tenya scoffed at him. He can’t be serious . “He’s my brother.”

“So?”

“So?” He repeated. “He’s obviously choosing me to be best man.”

“Not if he likes me more,” he said with a shit-eating grin. Then he winked and jogged ahead, saying, “Oh, Tensei? Would you like a candy?”

Baffled, stunned, and indignant, Tenya ran after them. 

.

.