Chapter Text
Enji is in an awful mood. Not that he’s been in a very happy one these past few weeks. Months?
Probably years.
Nothing is going as it should.
He’s still running after All Might and the gap between them never seems to decrease. He remains stuck in the eternal number two spot and no matter the energy and effort he pours into his work, he’s still behind.
Beyond that, he now dreads going back home, so he doesn’t. He can’t stand Rei’s blaming eyes, as cold as the ice running through her veins. Where there had been affection and love, maybe, there’s only reproach and resentment now.
Shouto goes through his training regimen more because he’s scared than because he wants to. Because he can’t fight Enji’s hold when he’s dragged to the dojo, even though he tries. God, does he try.
Natsuo and Fuyumi are ghosts in their own home. Enji can’t remember the last time he heard his daughter laugh or one of Natsuo’s silly puns. Conversations tend to die down every time he steps into the room, their smiles replaced by frowns or too-wide eyes and he hates to admit that it hurts.
The only person who’s happy to see him, who’s looking for his attention, is the only person he tries to avoid.
For his own good , he keeps telling himself. To keep him safe.
But the truth is that Enji doesn’t know how to talk to his son anymore. And beyond that, his smile makes him uneasy. It’s not the genuine, happy smile as before. It’s too wide, borderline unhinged. There’s something scary bubbling under the surface of those blue eyes; a monster that’s growing every day, born from Enji’s ambitions and failures, and Enji cowers in front of it, unable to face it.
Talk about a hero.
Enji ruminates on his dark thoughts, checking his schedule one more time. He’s sure he had something planned today but he can’t remember what. The calendar on his screen only shows his patrol later in the afternoon and a meeting before lunch. There’s something more, he knows it, and not being able to remember sours his mood even more.
Someone knocks at his door and he’s tempted to tell the intruder to go to hell. Instead, he barks a ‘Come in’ and one of his sidekicks enters the office, the line of his shoulders tensed as he bows slightly in front of Enji.
“Sorry to disturb you, boss.”
“What is it?”
“I—um, I’m sorry to have to ask this but I need to leave early today. My kid is coming back for winter break and he needs a ride from the airport—”
Enji opens his mouth to answer that if his kid is old enough to take the plane, he can take a train to go home but the harsh words die on his tongue.
“Winter break?”
His sidekick blinks, visibly surprised by the question. “Well, yeah? Today’s the first day and—”
A block of lead descends into Enji’s stomach, freezing the very marrow of his bones as the worst gut feeling twists his insides in a tight knot.
It’s something you have to see, Dad.
Enji stands up, startling his sidekick.
You’ll realize I’m not a mistake.
He leaves his office, ignoring the call of his sidekick behind him, and storms out of his agency to the parking lot.
He has to get to Sekoto Peak. As soon as he’s in the car, he calls home. No one picks up. He calls again, and again, and again, speeding up on the highway, going way above the speed limit.
“Hello?” The voice that finally answers is small and hesitant.
“Fuyumi?”
“Dad?”
“Is Touya here?”
“I-I don’t know. I didn’t see him at breakfast.”
“Go check his room.”
“Dad, is something wr—”
“Now!” he barks, swerving on the right to pass a truck and earning a bunch of angry honking in the process.
He can hear Fuyumi’s breath on the phone and the sound of her socked feet on the wooden floor as she walks in the hallway. “Touya? I’m coming in.” The door of Touya’s bedroom opens, squeaking as always. “He’s not there, Dad.”
Enji swears under his breath.
“Dad?” There’s a hint of panic in Fuyumi’s wavering voice. “Dad, what’s happening?”
“Find your mother. Tell her to go to Sekoto Peak.”
“O-okay. Dad, is Touya in trouble?”
Enji’s hands clench around the wheel. What is he supposed to tell Fuyumi? He doesn’t have the answer. He doesn’t know anything except for his hunch that something bad is about to happen and he’s running out of time.
He knows how to save people.
He knows how to crack a case.
He knows how to be a hero to strangers.
So why can’t he manage to reassure his own daughter?
The memory of his own father flashes through his mind. He hasn’t thought about his dad in ages. He doesn’t allow it except to remind him why he’s doing what he’s doing.
What would his father do?
How did he manage to comfort Enji when he was young and scared?
Everything’s gonna be okay, son. As long as I’m here, you’ll be fine.
Enji’s holding the wheel so tightly that he can hear it creak in protest. He takes a deep breath and forces his fingers to relax slightly.
He can’t find it in himself to repeat his father’s words to Fuyumi. It would feel hollow when he hasn’t talked to her in weeks.
“Touya is going to be fine. Call your mother.”
He hangs up before Fuyumi can say another word. He realizes that not only does he not know how to talk to Touya anymore but he’s actually unable to talk to any of his children.
When did that happen?
When did he stop caring about them?
When did he become such a shitty father?
Was he ever a good father to begin with?
He can’t even say that he doesn’t know how to. His dad was amazing. He taught Enji how to speak and how to read.
How to tie his shoes.
How to skip stones.
How to shave.
What it means to be a decent person.
But he didn’t teach him how to grieve. He didn’t tell him how to handle all this anger, all this bitterness that had been festering in his chest for years, since the day he disappeared from his life.
He wasn’t there to guide him through life.
And now Enji is failing to guide his own kids on the right path.
But maybe it’s not too late.
Maybe he can still make things right.
He exits the highway and the road leading to Sekoto is winding, forcing him to slow down when he just wants to push his car faster. He reaches the empty parking lot. Rei’s not here. Touya is nowhere to be seen.
He stumbles out of the car, calling Touya’s name. No answer.
Maybe Touya isn’t here after all. Maybe he just went out to the library or to the soccer field to play with Natsuo.
Maybe Enji’s hunch is wrong.
He runs on the well-known dirt path, climbing toward the top of the hill as fast as he can, calling Touya’s name.
He smells it before he can see it. The familiar scent of smoke, acrid and pungent, fills his lungs. And then he hears it. The sound of his son crying in pain drills through his eardrums, sending shards of ice directly to his heart.
“Touya!”
As he approaches the summit, the heatwave strikes him, almost sending him tumbling down. The blue flames rise high, wild, and out of control.
“Touya!” Enji calls again.
“Dad, help,” Touya shrieks. “It hurts!”
Enji can’t see anything through the wall of flames. But his son is on the other side.
He has to get him.
He has to reach him.
He needs to save him.
Enji raises his arm in front of his face and summons his own flames, hoping that they will protect him from the inferno separating him from Touya. He runs through the blue curtain and the heat is unbearable. It dries the air in his lungs, makes his blood boil in his veins. His hero suit, even as fireproof as it is, is melting on his skin.
He finally spots the small figure of his son, rolled into a ball on the ground, surrounded by roaring flames, crying and screaming, calling for him.
He forgets the excruciating pain, forgets the blisters appearing on his body, forgets the tears flowing from his eyes and drying instantly on his cheeks.
He forgets all of that and falls on his knees, shielding his burning son with his body, hoping to snuff the flames out.
“I’m here, Touya. I’m here.”
“Dad?”
Touya’s voice is broken. Enji can’t see his face but he can feel his small hands around his neck, holding onto him like a lifeline, covered in flames. They lick Enji’s skin, but he doesn’t move despite the pain.
“Dad, I can’t stop them.”
“Yes, you can.” Enji closes his eyes. “You’re my son. You can do it.”
“How?”
“Just breath, son. Calm down.” Enji is having a hard time breathing, most of the oxygen burned by the hungry flames.
“It hurts.”
“I know. But you’re strong.”
“Touya! Enji!”
Rei’s voice comes from the other side of the inferno.
“We’re here. Stay away, Rei!” Enji roars. “Focus now, Touya. You got this.”
Touya sobs and his nails dig in the nape of Enji’s neck. “I’m trying. Dad, please.”
Enji holds his son tight and he remembers the first time he held him, just after he was born. He was so small in Enji’s arms, with his red hair sticking straight on his little head like the tiniest mohawk.
His son.
His pride and joy.
“Everything’s gonna be okay, son. As long as I’m here, you’ll be fine.”
He understands those words now. It’s a vow. It’s a promise that he’ll die to keep.
A cool hand comes to rest on his nape, on Touya’s clenched fingers. “Come on, Touya.”
Enji opens an eye and he sees Rei, surrounded by mist as the ice covering her body melts and evaporates with their son’s fire, reappearing immediately after. She smiles as she crouches next to them, despite the fear Enji can read in her eyes.
Her other hand touches Enji’s cheek, a cold balm on his overheated skin. He straightens up to allow her to see Touya, still clinging to him. She cards her fingers through Touya’s hair, revealing white under the layer of ash.
“You can do it, baby. Just calm down. We’re here.”
Another sob shakes Touya’s body but the flames finally diminish. They’re still surrounded by an inferno but Touya isn’t burning anymore.
It takes fifty firemen and Backdraft as a backup to put out the fire Touya created. Before Enji and Touya are rushed to the hospital, Enji catches sight of his three other children standing by Rei’s car. Fuyumi is crying, holding onto Natsuo’s arm and Shouto stands next to them, not too close, but still close enough, looking at the scene with wide eyes. Enji should be able to smile to reassure them, to tell them that everything’s fine, but he can’t.
In the same situation, his father would have been able to say a few comforting words.
In the same situation, anyone would have been able to say something .
He sees Rei hurry toward the kids, unharmed but covered in soot, her white hair almost black. She takes Fuyumi in her arms and pulls Shouto closer.
He can’t stand the sight. He can’t look away.
He should be there with them. He should be crouching next to Rei and hugging Fuyumi to stop her tears. He should be ruffling his sons’ hair and telling them that everything’s going to be alright, that their mother has been brave and heroic.
He should.
He doesn’t take a step toward them and lets the paramedics usher him in a second ambulance.
His burns aren’t too bad. He’ll just have a few scars, especially around his neck where Touya clung to him, but that’s fine. They’ll be a reminder of what he almost lost. His lungs will need more time but he should be able to go back to work in a few days.
Touya, on the other end, is not doing as well. He’s been put into an artificial coma to help his body recover from the many third-degree burns. The doctors are talking about skin grafts and the damage to his lungs, uncertain if he’ll ever recover.
They talk about Quirk suppressors.
Enji listens while Rei asks all the questions. He hears the doctors but he knows his son.
Touya won’t stop.
He’s too stubborn for that.
Enji leaves his hospital room with his oxygen tank and walks to Touya’s room, two stories up in the children's ward. Touya looks so small in his bed, covered in gauze and tubes that help him breathe, feed him, hydrate him and keep him asleep. Enji sits on the creaking chair next to the bed and covers Touya’s bandaged hand with his own. He doesn’t talk. He never does.
He just sits there and he thinks about all the things he fucked up in his life so far.
The door slides open behind him and he doesn’t move, thinking it’s a nurse coming to check on Touya.
“Hello, Endeavor. Sorry to intrude.”
Enji startles. He knows this voice. He knows it all too well. Anger flares in his chest.
“What are you doing here?” he snaps, focusing his gaze on Touya, unwilling to look at the newcomer.
“I wanted to check on you both. The nurse told me you’d be here.”
Heavy footsteps make their way to the bed and a rolling stool is pulled next to Enji who’s forced to acknowledge the man next to him.
All Might is in civilian clothes, his stupid hair is down and a basket of apples is resting on his legs. He gives a tentative smile to Enji. “Do you want an apple?”
“No.”
All Might’s megawatt smile falters just for a second. “That’s alright. How are you feeling, Endeavor?”
Enji huffs, running his thumb on Touya’s knuckles. “What do you think? My boy is in a coma. Half of his body is burned to the third degree and the doctors don’t know if he’ll ever be able to live without respiratory assistance.”
All Might’s smile decreases with every sentence, replaced by a worried frown, and it doesn’t even make Enji feel any better.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” All Might fiddles with a loose straw on the fruit baskets. “Did Recovery Girl—”
“Touya is too weak.” Enji hates the word. His son is not weak. He is not . He will live. He will be alright.
He has to be.
“For now. I’m sure young Touya will recover.”
“Well, you have more confidence than the medical staff.”
All Might gently squeezes Enji’s shoulder. “If he’s anything like his father, he’ll show them that they’re wrong.”
“You mean bullheaded: listens to no one and steps on anyone and anything to reach his goals?” Enji seethes. The anger he felt toward All Might is now directed toward himself.
All Might coughs. “Well, no, not exactly.”
Enji refuses to look at him. He hates himself for what he just said. Those words should have remained locked in his mind. No ears, and especially not All Might’s , of all people, should have heard them.
“I’ve put him here,” Enji continues, apparently unable to stop now that he opened the dam. “It’s my fault.”
All Might remains silent but Enji doesn’t expect an answer. There’s nothing to say. He realizes how much he fucked up. He’s not sure the rest of his life will be enough time to atone for his sins.
“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t,” All Might says after a long while, so long that Enji almost forgot he was there. “I don’t know all the details of your private life but a bad father wouldn’t be here, holding his son’s hand.”
Enji shakes his head.
“It’s too little too late.”
“It’s never too late. Young Touya will wake up. He will heal. And you’ll have another chance to do the right thing.”
“What do you know?”
“As long as he’s breathing, there’s hope. Don’t lose faith, Endeavor. Trust your boy.”
The stool cracks when All Might stands up. He pats Enji’s shoulder one last time and leaves.
Enji looks at his son’s face, at the rise and fall of his chest and the quiet whoosh of the oxygen mask.
Please wake up .