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Shouta had been planning to sleep in.
He deserved that much, really, after the media circus he’d been subjected to, these past few weeks.
Granted, it had been his own mistake that caused it, but he had been running around with a concussion, fresh from a fight in which his students also participated, and the doctors wouldn’t let him see Todoroki.
Could he really be blamed for claiming to be the boy’s father? He had been sort of planning at the time to explain it away as a slip of the tongue. He’s the boy’s homeroom teacher, and with the dorms in place he had certain limited guardianship powers… Not that those counted for anything in that particular hospital, apparently.
But no, of course, his rotten luck wouldn’t give him a chance to do damage control. A reporter just had to overhear him, and apparently it must have been a slow day, because the full article was out online before Shouta had even managed to leave the hospital.
And with Todoroki’s amnesia only exacerbating his conspiracy theorist mindset, well…
The whole thing spiralled out of control, and somehow the whole of Japan believed him to have had four separate affairs with Todoroki Rei, each resulting in the birth of a child previously believed to have belonged to Endeavour.
A theory which was made believable by the history of fire quirks in his mother’s lineage, however the hell did the reporter manage to unearth it.
But now it was Sunday, all the students were safe in the dorms, no ominous messages were spotted anywhere close to the campus; From the looks of it, they were due for a nice, slow weekend.
The universe had other plans.
There was a knock on his doors. Expecting one of his kids -- he was, after all, inside his on-campus flat -- Shouta opened the doors without hesitation or his capture weapon.
He came face to face with the scarred face of Dabi.
“...Hi,” Dabi said, raising his hand.
Shouta couldn’t help but flinch at that, his hand raising to his empty neck. This was a familiar situation, even without his weapon. Although the guilty expression flashing across Dabi’s face was unusual.
“I’m not here to attack anyone, I promise,” the villain rushed to say, his hands dropping to press against his thighs. “I just- I just want to talk.”
“Right,” Shouta raised an eyebrow, disbelieving. Now, which of the buttons on the wall next to his front doors was the panic button again-
“I’m Touya,” Dabi blurted out, and Shouta froze. Could it be-? “T-todoroki Touya.”
Shit.
Shouta dropped his hand, stepping aside to let the man in. Dabi made his best attempt at looking small and unassuming as he scurried inside, pausing when Shouta grabbed his wrist.
“If this is a trick,” he said. “You won’t get a chance to try it again.”
Dabi gulped. “I understand.”
Shouta nodded. “Take off your shoes.”
Letting him go on first, Shouta followed Dabi into the flat. He didn’t really use it much, his room back at 1A’s building bearing the brunt of his presence, so it was adequately tidy.
Dabi paused on the threshold of the sitting room, staring at the sofas with a weird expression.
“Kitchen?” Shouta offered, already moving towards the other room. “Anything to drink? Coffee, tea, hot chocolate? If you have any dietary restrictions, now’s the time to share.”
“Oh, I have plenty,” Dabi snorted. “I’m desensitised to most though. Milk hadn’t made me puke since I was twelve!”
Shouta wasn’t sure what kind of expression he was showing on his face, but it made Dabi backpedal rather quickly.
“Ah, you know, Endeavor’s training and all-” Dabi cut off sharply. “Tea. Tea’s fine.”
Flipping the kettle on, Shouta gestured at the table. Dabi sat at the one chair with its back towards the wall, hands fidgeting with the staples circling his wrists.
“You’re here because of the article, aren’t you?” Shouta asked, preparing the mugs. “Peppermint okay?”
“Yea. …I didn’t know.” He didn’t need to elaborate.
“Trust me, kid,” Shouta snorted, pretending not to notice how Dabi jumped at the use of that word. “Nobody knew.”
Shouta included. At least not until his busybodies of friends swarmed him once he returned to UA, compassionate and teasing in equal measure.
“I- I’m sorry about attacking you.”
The kettle whistled, and Shouta took the opportunity to busy himself with the drinks, bringing them to the table along with a plate of cookies.
He might be brusque at best, but his mothers didn’t raise a bad host.
By the time he got to the table, Dabi was scowling.
“I… Am also… Sorry about attacking the children,” Dabi pushed out through clenched teeth.
“That looked like it hurt to say.”
“It did,” Dabi folded his arms across his chest. Shouta just looked at him, pushing the mug closer. “Fine! I’m not sorry about the brats.”
Who knew talking with villains who believed themselves to be Shouta’s children could be so entertaining?
“You didn’t manage to hurt them much,” Shouta sipped at his own tea, watching Dabi’s expression battle between relief and disappointment. “Do better in the future, though.”
Dabi squinted at him. “Are you telling me to launch better attacks or-”
Shouta rolled his eyes. “You know what I meant.”
A moment of silence fell.
“I didn’t… I never wanted this,” Dabi unfolded his arms, leaning over his mug, staring at the surface of the beverage pensively. As if he was trying to tell the future, or at least understand his past, which is a lot to ask from peppermint tea. “I just- I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
Putting his own mug down, Shouta focused on- he should be calling him Touya, in his head, shouldn’t he? If this was going to end the way he thought it would…
“Can you tell me what happened?” He asked, ever so gently.
Dabi chuckled, the sound devoid of any humour. “Training, training, training,” he said. “I… My skin’s not exactly suited for high temperatures. Fa- Endeavor didn’t let that stop me.”
Shouta clenched his jaws. He knew Endeavour hadn’t been the best father by what he could see of the youngest Todoroki. This? This sounded even worse.
“Then…” Touya continued, eyes staring at something far, far away. “Shouto’s quirk came in. Half-ice, half-fire, exactly what Father wanted. I… Became obsolete.”
Was it just him, or was Shouta smelling smoke?
“I didn’t… take it well,” Touya continued, and something was definitely on fire. “I kept practising, trying to do what he was trying to force me to do. There was, I left him a message. To go join me at the Sekoto Peak. That was the first time I managed to create blue fire.”
Touya looked up, staring Shouta straight into the eye.
“He didn’t show up,” Touya said. There were flames dancing on top of Touya’s arms, following the patterns of his scars. “I burned alone.”
But that was then. Touya wasn’t alone now.
Shouta activated his quirk, and the flames went out immediately, leaving the acrid smell of burnt flesh behind, like the world’s most morbid incense.
“...Will you help me?” Touya kept staring at him, having barely noticed the flames or their absence. It wasn’t because he trusted Shouta, because there was no reason why he should; It was more likely he simply grew numb to the feeling from repeated exposure. “Will you help me defeat Endeavor?”
“Kid, I’m a hero,” Shouta blinked, his quirk deactivating. “I can help you defeat him in court, not on a battlefield.”
He really didn’t like the way Touya’s face twisted up.
Shouta stood up, rounding the table to crouch by Touya’s side, his arms outstretched slightly.
“I’m not a kid,” Touya scoffed, turning his head away as he wiped at the blood streaming down his face like tears.
“No,” Shouta didn’t move. “You never got to be a kid. There’s a difference.”
Touya lasted another three seconds before turning back, leaning into Shouta, his hands clutching at Shouta’s shirt.
“What he did… It was wrong,” Shouta said, encircling Touya with his arms, bringing him in close. “You should have never been forced through that. I’m sorry it happened to you, Touya.”
Clutching even tighter, Touya hid his face in Shouta’s shirt. …It’d probably need to be thrown away after this.
“I wish you were there,” the man mumbled out, and he had never seemed so much like a child than in that single moment.
…Ah, whatever, he already had one Todoroki walking around calling him dad.
“I’m here now,” he said, his hand resting on top of Touya’s head.
Scoffing, the man leaned back, letting go of Shouta. “It doesn’t matter now,” he said, his hands clutching at his thighs. “I’m a villain now. It’s too late.”
“It’s never too late.”
Shouta didn’t remove his hand from Touya’s hair. Even though it didn’t seem to have been washed in… a while. Eh, he dealt with grossier things.
Touya’s shoulders slumped, a sigh accompanying the motion.
“If you want to turn back, I’ll help you,” Shouta continued. “We can fix this still, make it better. You just gotta trust me. Say the word, and we’ll do this.”
Touya looked up at him with eyes that looked far too young and far too old at the same time. “Dad,” he mumbled.
…Well, “yes” would have sufficed, but that worked, too.
Bonus:
Later, in the dorms
Shouto, still amnesiac, to Touya: you look familiar
Touya: I’m your brother, Touya.
Shouto: Touya, Touya…. That name sounds familiar. You don’t look like him, though.
Touya: I’ve… had a plastic surgery.
Shouto: Aren’t those typically meant to make you look better?
Touya: …It did.
