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Enji didn’t believe in luck. He believed that everything had to be worked for, and that manifesting something with no effort put behind it was a foolish concept. Wishing upon a star was a thing for fairytales and fiction. Or maybe he just didn’t think of himself as lucky. In no lifetime would he ever consider himself to be a lucky person. He’d made far too many mistakes to even ponder the probability of it.
As soon as he was released from the hospital, he held a press conference with Hawks and Best Jeanist where he faced heavy criticism when addressing Dabi indeed being his first-born child. Afterwards, he returned to his agency where he was right now. Sitting at his desk with his head heavy in his hands. He’s beyond exhausted, but he has to shoulder it. The weight of his actions washing over him like a tidal wave. He managed to hold out during the conference, but he was facing a whole sea of emotions he wasn’t sure how to handle. He didn’t know where to start.
Well… he could start with the odd feeling that’s been bothering him ever since he sat down.
Something was… off. He couldn’t quite place it, but something felt different. Something was different. It seemed that even the weather had changed in the few minutes since his return. The sky that was once a horribly bright blue was gray and clouded. He didn’t think much of it. Of course, weather changing wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. It happened all the time. And after all, spring often brought rainstorms and such. Well, whether it rained or not wasn’t important.
Lifting his head from his hands, Enji let out a heavy sigh, eyes glancing over his desk. No doubt calls of villain attacks would soon flood the agency. He’d probably be out on the street again— possibly in a matter of minutes. He didn’t even want to think about it. All he could think about was his family. About Dabi… no, Touya.
Was his son truly alive? He couldn’t bear the thought. All this time, he’d been alive— watching him. He knew that everything was his fault. And he knew that he’d spend the rest of his live trying to atone for his sinful acts against his family. He wouldn’t even ask for forgiveness, because he knew it wasn’t something he deserved and he was fine with that. He wouldn’t even dream of asking that of his family. Of his wife and children. The only thing that mattered was putting a stop to the villains and serving the people he’d sworn to protect when he decided to become a hero.
Then and only then would he be content, knowing that he did all he could until the very end.
“What in the world… it’s spring, why on earth is this—” The hero cut himself short when he took a closer look at the small calendar in front of him.
October , the days only marked to the fifteenth. Brows furrowed, he focused his eyes to make sure he wasn’t just seeing things. The year. What year was it? His eyes darted to the corner of the page where the year was boldly printed. Suddenly, it felt like the whole world was spinning on its head. Fall. It was fall, however, eleven years ago.
Eleven years. Enji’s eyes widened and a look of panic took over his features. This couldn’t be right… could it? He wasn’t supposed to be here. This day, it was a scar. A painful reminder that he hated to remember.
A cold, windy day. The air was dry.
He didn’t have to be outside to know that, simply because he’d been here before. It was a particularly hard day at work, and he’d come home later than usual. Only to find out that his eldest son had been consumed in a raging fire at Sekoto Peak. He remembered it clear as day. He wasn’t even supposed to work that day, yet he came here anyway.
Touya had asked him to meet him at the spot where they trained together. And Enji, he left for work thinking it was for the better, and that he wouldn’t be feeding the fire he lit under his child. Ever since that day, he’d tortured himself by knowing that Touya would’ve still been there if he’d only given up work to see him. He didn’t know why he was still sitting here.
He shot straight up from his desk and almost sprinting out of his office. Was this some kind of joke? It couldn’t have been. One look at his agency told him all he needed to know. He’d had a lot of maintenance and interior work done over the years so that’s how he knew it was true. He paid no mind to his sidekicks as he ran out of the office. He pulled his phone from the pocket of his coat and messaged his driver. He had to get home.
As he frantically paced in front of his building, he prayed to every kami above that this time— this time he wouldn’t be late. That this time he would be there. He wouldn’t yell, he wouldn’t shout, he wouldn’t raise his hands to his child. Never again. Not if it meant he had the chance to make things right. Not if it meant seeing his son again.
Losing himself in his thoughts, he’d unintentionally tuned out his surroundings and didn’t notice the blaring horn of his drivers car pulling up. The window was rolled down, revealing his driver’s usual expression of irritation. “Take me to Sekoto Peak.” Enji demanded. Barely in the car, he stared down his driver. “Now! Step on it, damn it!” he raised his voice, giving in to his impatience.
“Yes, Endeavor sir!”
He was never one to be antsy or nervous. Yet here he was, bouncing his knee and biting his nails. A cold sweat trickled down the back of his neck, hairs standing on end. Once he found Touya, the first thing he would do is apologize. Then he’d watch him. He would watch him and listen to everything he had to say. Touya always got so excited when he talked about his training. His voice would get high and bubbly as he rambled on about learning new moves. He wouldn’t interrupt or brush him off. He’d be patient like he should’ve been the first time.
Then he’d take Touya home. He would take a week— no, more than that away from work and spend time at home. He’d spend time with his family. He’d let Shouto play with his siblings, and he wouldn’t train him so hard, or at all. Yeah. He’d stop pushing such unrealistic expectations onto his children. He’d bring his wife back home and talk to her. To discuss options for their future, and if she wanted out then so be it. He wouldn’t fight and argue. He’d let her go and take the children if that’s what she wanted.
It would still be a better future than the one he’d been living in. He wouldn’t let his greed and unhealthy jealousy get in the way of what was important.
Enji cursed his agency for being so far from home as the minutes ticked by— painfully slow, might he add. The sky was clearing up, and the sky was orange bleeding into a deep and starry lilac. It was just about five pm. Every minute closer to the dinner Touya never made it home to. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to ease his mind by looking out the window, taking deep breaths to calm his panicked breathing. What if it was already too late? What if his son was already charred down to ash?
He could feel his heart practically leaping out of his chest when the roads started looking familiar. He could see it from here. Sekoto Peak. No more that a few kilometers. He could get there on his own right now. He was fast, he could ensure he’d be there on time. Ripping off his seatbelt was enough for his driver to hit the brakes. He started chewing him out for being so reckless and for being in such a hurry, but his complaints fell on deaf ears as Enji opened the car door and sped off. He could pay for the damage later. But if he didn’t rush now, the damage then would be much more than money could ever pay.
“Damn it, hurry.” he muttered to himself, dashing up the trail he was so familiar with.
He remembered the first time he took Touya up here. Though at the time, the boy was much more interested in unique stones and two squirrels tussling in the leaves, probably fighting over acorns. He’d give anything to have walks like that again. It didn’t have to be here, it didn’t have to be now. But he wanted it so badly. He wanted it more than anything. And maybe one day Shouto would join them on the mountain. The other children, Natsuo and Fuyumi. Even if they didn’t want to train, he wanted to take them here. And if they wanted to be heroes one day, he would gladly be their teacher.
“Touya… please be…” he couldn’t even think right now. He couldn’t remember a time he felt this lightheaded and dizzy. He could tell he was getting closer, it only pushed him to run faster. He’d run until he lungs collapsed. Even then, he would get back up and keep running. This was a moment that’d have to be pried from his cold, dead hands. He took a left and entered a clearing by the lake. He caught his breath as he looked around.
The first thing he noticed wasn’t the fact that none of the dummies had been used, but the sound of quiet sobs and sniffles. He took slow, staggered steps into the clearing, whipping his head in every direction. A hard lump formed in his throat and his mouth became incredibly dry. He couldn’t bring himself to call out Touya’s name if he wanted to. He only followed the sounds of his muffled cries until they started getting louder. It was only getting darker, they both should’ve been home right now.
“Suck it up. Don’t be a baby…” That voice. The voice that always called for him so happily. That light, bubbly voice that the hero missed so dearly. “Don’t cry,” Enji approached the lake, and there he saw Touya, hunched over as he sat on a rock. He was violently rubbing his eyes, leaving them red and irritated as he tried desperately to hold back his tears.
“Touya…” Enji said, voice barely above a whisper. His body moved before he could think, and he found himself jogging towards the boy, hot tears welling in his own eyes. “Touya! Touya, oh, Touya,” he said, trying not to fall to his knees. He could stop the tears now rolling down his face, eyes not daring to close as he trapped his son in a tight embrace.
“Dad? You… you went to work. How– H– How are you here?” His words came out as strained hiccups. He didn’t hug his father back, but Enji wouldn’t let go. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. With a hand holding the back of Touya’s head, he held him close and muttered out an endless stream of apologies. “...Dad?”
“You’re okay. I’m here now. Touya, I— I’m here.” Enji said as though he was talking to himself. He quickly pulled back so he could see his son’s face. Hands planted firmly on his shoulders, he took in the sight he only got to see through a framed photo at the shrine in his home. The face of a boy taken from him far too soon. They were here. He was here. Touya, not Dabi. His first-born son. His baby.
“Uh— right! I–I asked you to come here,” Touya reminded himself as if he’d forgotten in the first place. He pulled away from his dad and put a bit of distance between them despite the man’s tears. “See? See?” he asked, holding out his fist as a bright blue flame engulfed his hand. “I’m awesome too, right? An–And I learned it all on my own—” He stopped himself upon noticing his father’s solemn expression. “I mean… I can still do better! I don’t want to burn the forest down or anything so I have to keep it low, but I’m sure if I—”
“Touya.” Enji said, cutting him off. His voice was shaky, and the tears which rolled down his cheeks had begun to dry. “I’m proud of you, son. I’m so very proud of you.” He watched Touya’s excited expression shift through clouded vision. “I know that I’ve failed you. Not just as a hero… but as your father. And I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” he apologized again. “If you truly want to be a hero, I promise I’ll support you with everything I have. But you have to choose that for yourself.”
Touya lowered his arms, relaxing his stance as he stared in confusion. He’d never seen his dad like this before. He felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes again, and he didn’t know what to say. Did this mean his father would start training with him again? Would they practice every day like they used to? Would he watch him grow into a hero?
There were so many things Enji wanted to say right now, but he held his tongue. He didn’t want to stress Touya by unloading years of unresolved feelings onto him all in one night. Baby steps, one at a time. Right now, he just wanted to bring Touya back home where he knew he’d be safe. He’d make things right this time. This was only the first thing on a list of millions.
“We’ll train tomorrow, right?” Touya asked, holding onto the sleeve of his father’s coat. Enji nodded reassuringly, and Touya smiled. “Hey, dad! Can we have soba for dinner? I know it’s late but I really want so–”
“We can have soba, don’t worry about the time. You can stay up late tonight.” Enji interrupted, just wanting to enjoy this time with his son. He just wanted to see him happy again. “Maybe you and your siblings can have a movie night, and in the morning we’ll go see your mother.”
He wanted his son back.
“Really? We’re gonna go see mom? Is she coming home? I… I need to apologize to her. And to Shouto. Do you think she’ll want to see me, dad?”
He wanted Touya back.
“Of course she’ll want to see you. She loves you very much, Touya. We both do.”
It was quiet. A little too quiet, and it made the others worry. He hadn’t come out of his office since he came back from his press conference. That’s when Burnin and Kido gave up on knocking and barged in expecting to see their boss engrossed in more work. But… that’s not what they walked in on. Instead, the found Endeavor passed out at his desk, fast asleep, it seemed.
“Huh…” Kido muttered. “No wonder the agency’s so quiet. The bear went into hibernation.” he joked. Burnin nudged him with her elbow. “Hey, what was that for?”
“He’s had a long day. Plus, he just got discharged from the hospital.” Burnin said, voice uncharacteristically quiet. “He’s probably really fatigued, we should leave him alone… for now, at least. He’ll wake up soon. Come on, let’s get outta here before we lose our jobs,” she sighed.
She didn’t mention anything to Kido when they left the room, but she was sure he noticed it too. It was hard to miss the tears stains marking the hero’s face as he mumbled incoherent words in his sleep.
Enji Todoroki didn’t believe in luck.
It was completely unrealistic. Something straight out of a fairytale. But in this moment, holding Touya’s hand again as they walked down the mountain they so often trained on?
He felt like one lucky bastard.