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There was a rustle of denim sliding against couch fabric.
Then silence, only cut every second by steady the ticking of a wall clock. The silence lasted about a minute or so.
Rustling again, this time a little more restless. Then silence.
Tick, tick, tick…
Rustling, knuckles cracking, scalp itching, sniffing -
Toichiro cleared his throat, and Sho froze in the middle of going to bite at some hanging skin on his thumb. He looked over at his father, who was practically as still as a statue on the large, expensive black couch he was lounging on. Even in relaxation, he didn’t seem fully relaxed - more like a man trying to mimic what relaxation looked like. He had on his reading glasses, and had been quietly scrolling through his iPad for the past however long it’d been since he sat down in the living room with Sho.
Toichiro glanced up, and when Sho realized he’d zoned out staring at his father, he tensed even further and forced himself to stare back down at his phone. He’d stopped scrolling on some random video of a cat on his feed, and had to really put in the effort to even recognize what the animal was doing.
It had… been like this for a few weeks now.
After the incident with Shigeo Kageyama that left much of Seasoning City destroyed, and many of the espers who fought to stop the unconscious boy seriously injured, Toichiro Suzuki had come out alive.
His dad, who’d almost sacrificed his life in a selfish, last minute attempt at martyred redemption had survived, and he had only himself to blame for the broken pieces of his family.
Sho’s mom had been… well, unhappy wasn’t quite right. He could tell she was relieved, but she was proud, just like his father, and it’d been hard for her to cave immediately. But she’d visited, and exchanged words with him. It was difficult for Sho - for both of them - to see Toichiro bed ridden with all different kinds of bandages and wires and IVs wrapped around him and stuck through him.
This man, that’d been so unshakeable he’d almost conquered the world for it, with a respirator and five different kinds of drugs pumping through his system.
The government hadn’t wanted to use any healing espers on him, and after enough grilling, they admitted that for the safety of everyone else (DESPITE ALL THAT HE’D DONE FOR THE COUNTRY IN THAT ONE SINGLE DAY) they’d use their own devices to limit the use of his powers, and thus slowed his naturally heightened regenerative abilities.
And so, Sho and his mother had been forced to acknowledge Toichiro Suzuki at his lowest. Sho knew his dad was a private man, in all parts of his life, but he’d never seen the man so unguarded before. Except for the moment before he attempted to throw his life away, just days prior.
After his recovery, he’d been tried by the government again, to redetermine his fate. It seriously wasn’t much of a trial though, more of a, “Let’s look over his files, see how we’re feeling, then do a coin toss.”
Sho hadn’t actually known what all they did to finally decide on his dad’s tentative freedom. In actuality, it’d taken multiple weeks - Toichiro remained at the government facility he’d been housed in prior, but a couple times a week, he’d received a call from the man, mostly keeping him updated on the situation. He’d stiffly ask Sho about how he and his mother were doing, at which point Sho would either give an awkwardly vague answer, or scoff and tell the man to ask another day.
Sho would never admit how much those careful, hesitantly hopeful questions made his heart squeeze with a mix of elation and dread.
And then finally, a full two months after the incident with Shigeo Kageyama, Sho and his mother got the call from the government that Toichiro Suzuki would be set free.
He’d be on the equivalent of esper house arrest, obviously, and if so much as a single sign of him returning to his old ways reached the government, he’d be locked away and experimented on for the remainder of his life.
Sho didn’t know how to feel about hearing his mom sob uncontrollably after concluding her call - or seeing her fall to the floor, clutching her wedding ring to her chest, and thanking whatever higher powers there were for her husband’s life and freedom.
When Toichiro had been taken under arrest, much of his money and personal belongings were confiscated - but a lot of it had still been tucked away in secret, unconnected accounts via illicit means. Some had even been purposefully delegated to Sho and Hanako (Sho really didn’t want to think about how his mother’d reacted to that phone call). And of course, because of his… “job”, they’d both been extremely hesitant to even touch the new large sums of money filed into their bank accounts. Sho supposed the government hadn’t been able to take all of the man’s funds on charges of illegal obtainment - Toichiro Suzuki had been an entrepreneur and businessman before his plans of world domination, after all.
And so, basically, they were filthy rich.
Well. Comfortable, his mom would awkwardly correct.
(Sho honestly had no memory of any other way of life. His father’d given him free reign to his credit card when he was ten-years-old; what a way to connect with your son, right?)
When Toichiro walked, or rather, shambled back into their lives, looking skinnier, older, and more tired than Sho had ever seen his father, of course the first thing he said was:
“Let me buy you both a house. The least I can do for you is give you a comfortable place to live.”
Sho swore his mother had almost slapped him, then an there. It certainly looked like it took her a lot of restraint not to.
“You are going to buy your wife and son a home, and you are going to live in it, and sleep on the couch until I decide I’ve forgiven you,” Hanako said with the slightest quiver to her voice. Her fists shook where they were clenched at her sides, but she held her husband’s tired, understanding gaze.
“Okay,” Toichiro responded. “Okay.”
That was a couple weeks ago. Sho pretended he hadn’t heard his mother coming downstairs to their living room to gently wake his father up, and two pairs of footsteps going back up to her (their) bedroom the past couple of nights. They seemed to be tiptoing their slowly renewing romance around their son, and Sho couldn’t understand why.
His mother’s prideful stubbornness, and his father’s quiet privateness definitely were a match made in complicated heaven.
And as the wheels of time turned, and the two of them slowly healed and mended what had been broken, Sho couldn’t help but feel his own chance at fixing his relationship with his dad had stagnated.
Plainly put, the two didn’t talk. And it was so cowardly.
Sho hadn’t been more high strung in his entire life than he had been since his father started living with them again.
And maybe “the two didn’t talk,” was a bit of an exaggeration.
Yes, they exchanged words. Yes, Toichiro struck up conversation, and Sho would respond (though it had been short and very uncomfortable each time, with no sign of getting any better). And yes, his father had done his best to start the process of making amends for all he’d done to and not done for the boy, and god dammit of course Sho acknowledged his hard work.
Of course he acknowledged that his father was trying, that he truly cared and wanted to do better.
He still couldn’t help being such a coward about all of it though.
And that had mostly been because…
He really didn’t know how to even be around his father.
Which finally brought them back to the quietness of the living room, as they shared tense company with each other - Toichiro still idly scrolling through his iPad, and Sho with his phone.
(If Sho had to guess, his father was probably pretending just as hard as he was to look at whatever was on his screen at that moment.)
Hanako had gone out to lunch with her mother, leaving to two alone for the next few hours. And Toichiro was quiet; Sho had known his father as a man of few words for as long as he’d been alive. The vivid memories he still had of his young childhood, whenever Toichiro was involved, was always of the man sitting quietly off to the side while Sho played, or even further back, of the man quietly correcting Sho’s reading as the boy struggled to sound out a new picture book while sitting in his father’s lap.
But see… Sho was…
The opposite of quiet. He was sociable - ‘chatty, annoying, loud’ - and restless. His days of hanging out with his own new friends, mostly Ritsu Kageyama, were always spent moving around the boy’s room while they meandered on about the day, just enjoying each other’s company. Ritsu hadn’t seemed to mind his wandering feet or moving hands, and though he was on the quieter side himself, Sho never felt judged when he talked excitedly about something stupid that happened at Black Vinegar Middle School that day, or a funny joke Hanazawa had told him, or even on rare occasion, the happenings at home or regarding his parents.
But in that moment, in the living room, while sitting in a small sofa chair while his dad sat feet away in a sofa, Sho felt glued to the fabric of the seat. Like he couldn’t move or talk, or his dad would glare silently, or scold him, or better yet, just leave.
Because… Sho wasn’t the kind of company his father kept.
He remembered from the days of CLAW, when he’d hang around the main building, bored and idling around, waiting for something interesting to happen. And of course, he wasn’t so naive to think that the members of the Super 5 had been friends with his father, but he noticed much of the same in all of them.
Quiet, not bothersome, and certainly not chatty.
(Well, maybe except for Shimazaki, but he was charming - there was a difference.)
Plainly put, their personalities clashed. And Sho knew his dad wanted something better for them, for his rocky relationship with his son -
But how was Sho supposed to start letting the man in again if he couldn’t even sit in silence with him for ten fucking minutes--
“Sho.”
Sho sucked in a breath so quickly he almost choked. He forced himself to appear nonchalant when he glanced up at his father.
Shit. Here it comes. Just like back in the days at CLAW, the boy thought numbly. Memories flashed through his mind, of the days where he would sit in silence with his dad, in the man’s office after his mother would drop him off to spend time with his dad for the day. He remembered she was always grumpy when she left, but she never skipped out on a gentle kissed at his temple.
Sho would last similarly ten minutes into watching his father sign papers, write emails, and take phone calls, before he’d start trying to play with whatever was in the office, or God forbid ask his own dad to play with him.
“Not now, Sho.”
“I’m busy, Sho.”
“You’re being too noisy, Sho.”
“Sit down, Sho. Stop moving so much, Sho. You’re distracting me, Sho.”
The silent stillness was suffocating, but it was the only way he could even be in his dad’s presence.
Then, mom left (rightfully so). Sho stopped coming around just to spend time with the man, and Toichiro certainly didn’t reach out.
Sho got desperate for his father’s attention, his approval - he’d come around again with the sole intention of bothering him. And each time, Toichiro leveled him with a blank, unreadable glare, and Sho left more annoyed than he’d been all day.
Yeah, they hadn’t known how to keep eachother’s “company” for a while.
“Is… something troubling you?”
Sho was snapped out of his thoughts, and his mask of nonchalance fell for just a moment.
“Uh, no. Just… sitting here. You know. Hanging out.”
The boy crossed, then promptly uncrossed his legs. Toichiro’s unreadable, scrutinizing gaze hadn’t left his face.
“You’re fidgeting,” his father noted blankly. How astute, Sho had wanted to reply mockingly.
“Uh, yeah, I tend to do that a lot. Just kind of, you know, comes with the territory?”
Toichiro continued to stare.
“Of being around me,” Sho forcibly continued, as if his father didn’t understand what he said the first time.
Tick, tick, tick, went the clock.
Sho turned off and pocketed his phone, and moved to get up.
“I can go, if it’s distracting--”
“Sho.”
His father’s deep, steady voice made him freeze mid standing, and he looked over at the man.
If Toichiro had been a stranger to him, he wouldn’t have noticed the slightly deepened crease in the man’s brow, or the way his expression as a whole pinched with something akin to guilt.
“I don’t care if you fidget. But if something is troubling you… I am here to listen,” the man seemingly struggled to get out, but his voice remained steady as always. Until he tacked on a very awkward, but genuinely trying, “Son,” at the end.
It took all of Sho’s strength and patience to not bolt immediately.
This is your chance to stop being a coward. To accept the torch he’s holding out for you. Sure, he was shitty in the past, but hasn’t he been trying this whole time? Why can’t you just let him in? A tiny voice urged him on, as he stared blankly back at this father.
Sho swallowed, and carefully sat back down. His eyes nervously roved over his own lap, and he picked at the still hanging skin on his fingers as dozens of scenarios and outcomes to this possible conversation flashed through his mind.
He took a deep breath, thought over his words, then spoke.
“I just… don’t… know how to be around you,” he started stiffly, unsure, then let out all at once in a sigh. “You’re quiet. You- You like quiet. I don’t even know what your hobbies are, frankly. But I like all this stupid shit that you’d probably never understand, and I talk all the time, and I’m always ‘fidgeting’ like you said--,” Toichiro didn’t comment on his son’s swearing, “--and- God, I don’t know how mom does it. You know, she’s just like me, right? She’ll talk your ear off, or-or laugh freely at something dumb she saw on Facebook, and then try and show it to you, or ask you a bunch of random questions about your day, and you guys work. And don’t think I haven’t noticed it - I’m okay with it, so don’t even say anything. I don’t know why you guys wanted to hide it anyway… But my point is, I’m no different, so why--”
“Sho.”
The boy sucked in a long breath, and exhaled shakily. Oh shit, when had his eyes started to sting? His throat was all stopped up too.
He continued to stare down at his lap, and his hands clenched into his jeans at his knees.
He heard his father take a breath and sigh as well, before the man stood. Sho froze up.
Ah, so this really was it. Sho’s one shot at bravery, and his father didn’t want to deal with it - deal with his outbursts. Just like always. His vision was starting to cloud with liquid. And he waited for the man to leave while he continued to stare stubbornly down at his lap.
Then, the presence stopped next to him. And Sho still couldn’t look up, but alarms of confusion were going off in his head, and he swore he could feel the confliction in his father’s aura, then--
A large, warm hand was on his shoulder, and he heard his father crouch down to his height. Or well, a little shorter than his height, while he was sitting.
“Sho. Son- look at me,” came his father’s voice again, and it was… it was tired, but not in a way that sounded like he was tired of this.
Of Sho.
He sniffled and hesitantly looked over.
His father’s expression was even more pinched than before - he looked openly upset, in his own Toichiro way. Even if the reading glasses lightened his somewhat intimidating appearance.
“You’re right. About a lot of what you said. I… I am quiet. I always have been, ever since I was a child. It is something that will never leave me. And… in what I did previously… This was an asset. I commanded attention, I intimidated those who stood in my path for world domination, and I used my lack of expression as a means to keep all of my thoughts and feelings hidden away.
“But your mother… When we first began our relationship, she saw past all of that. She reached out, as no one ever had before. Because I had been like this my entire life, people thought it meant I always wanted to be alone - that I didn’t care about anything going on around me. And… in some regards, that was true.” Toichiro looked down, a cloudy expression falling over his face. “My own parents had been distant, and I had no friends I can recall throughout my time in school. I had… a warped ego, from my powers. I thought myself better than most. And with all of that combined, I did not reach out to anyone. I remained quiet, as you said. But…
“I was still lonely. And your mother saw that, I think. Somehow. She talked, and when most people took my lack of reaction as disinterest, she knew I listened. In my own way. Sho… I am not like most people; in regards to more ways than one. And I know you know this. I am not like you, or your mother… I do not carry a conversation so easily; but that does not mean I am not listening. That I don’t care. Because I do.”
Toichiro’s warm, grounding grip on his shoulder tightened comfortingly, and the two held each other’s gazes. The man looked almost pleading, in his own muted way. Guilty, pleading, hopeful, all wrapped up into one. Sho hadn’t even registered tears were falling down his cheeks.
“I care for you both more than anything else in this world. And I know it’s going to take time and effort to convince you of that - I’m not asking for your belief, or your forgiveness. I’m just asking that you hear me.
“I want to be here for you, Sho. I want to be a father you can love and be proud to call family. I want to listen to everything you have to say about the world, because I want to get to know you. So please, know that it’s okay to be yourself around me; I don’t want you in my life any other way.”
Sho hiccuped, then his father must’ve moved in a way that his brain insinuated as being okay, because he immediately jumped into the man’s arms and held him in a tight hug. For as loud as he typically was, he cried so quietly, but Toichiro held him through it, even as tears soaked through his shirt.
And sure, the man’s embrace was a little stiff, and he awkwardly didn’t murmur any soft words of comfort, like his mom did, but Sho found that was okay. His dad was his dad, and he was himself.
They were two wildly different people, wildly different personalities, but as Sho cried, he thought that maybe, just maybe, they would be able to keep each others’ company in their own ways next time.