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Endeavor, come get your kid.
Of all the texts Enji expected to see this evening—villains love picking Friday nights to get up to nonsense, thinking all the heroes will be heading home early—a text from Best Jeanist is certainly not one of them.
Dread settles like a rock in his lungs as he types his response. What are you talking about?
The reply is near instant. Hawks. He’s had too much to drink.
He won’t ask how Jeanist knows about his relationship with Keigo. In fact, he’s sure he doesn’t want to know. He opens a separate text conversation. Might as well get it from the source.
Enji
Keigo, have you been drinking?
He can’t help rolling his eyes. There’s no way to say that without sounding like a disappointed parent, or if there is, he certainly doesn’t know how to say it. Hawks replies instantly.
Keigo
endeavor!!!
hi
you’re so cool
Enji
Have you been drinking?
Keigo
yayaya
your’e so cool you should come join us!!!!
That confirms it. “Too much to drink” is a perfectly apt description.
He’s sure Fuyumi and Natsuo have both had their fair share of drinks, but he’s never heard a word of it. Not that that’s a surprise. Everything he hears from his kids, he has to gently coax out, which is hard considering how many years he spent enforcing the opposite.
Dealing with a drunk kid is just par for the course. Better late than never.
He's already called for his chauffeur when he asks Best Jeanist for their location. Might as well make this as quick and painless as possible. He’s sure he’ll be getting a lot of questions afterward.
The bar they end up at is right in the middle of downtown. The group must’ve come here right after their shifts ended, and seeing that it’s nearly nine, they must’ve been at this for a while.
Enji steps inside, and immediately he feels how different this is. He’s been in public with Hawks tons of times before, but the situation has always been different.
There’s no other explanation for this, nothing other than a parent having to come get his drunk kid. And now a bunch of nosy pros are getting a front row seat.
They’re obviously quite a few drinks in. Hawks, Mirko, Fatgum, Jeanist. Quite the motley crew. Enji hadn’t even realized they were friends.
It doesn’t matter, not really. The one half-slumped over the bar, the one he’s responsible for, looks about ready to keel over any minute now. That’s where his concerns lie.
“I’m fine,” Hawks insists, sounding anything but. His cheeks are reddened, his pupils dilated. Fatgum has a hand on his back, just in case he tries to walk.
Mirko scoffs. “Please. If you try to fly home, you’re running straight into power lines. Bum a ride already.”
Fatgum’s eyes flash to Enji, and he’s unable to contain his grin. “There’s the man of the hour! Been hearing about you all night!”
So Hawks has been talking about him. It’s an answer, but not one that makes him feel any better. Positive or negative, he simply doesn’t like the other pro heroes knowing his business.
Hawks’s head snaps up, and his balance immediately suffers. If it weren’t for some quick reflexes, he’d probably have broken his nose on the bar by now.
“Easy does it, kiddo,” Fatgum says, gently pulling Hawks upright. There’s a stomach-dropping moment where he rocks too far back in the opposite direction, but three separate pairs of hands shoot out to try and steady him.
“Endeavor!” Hawks beams. “Hi!”
“He’s trashed,” Mirko says, making no effort to hide her annoyance. “Guess the bird metabolism can only help so much.”
Best Jeanist offers him a fond, if exasperated glance over his shoulder as he approaches Enji. “Thank you for coming. I assume he regressed somewhere in between drinks.”
Enji doubts it but doesn’t comment. Sometimes it’s so easy to forget that everyone else knows about Hawks’s regressor persona, since the public façade and the real thing are so different. Get Hawks drunk enough and apparently it reads the same as regressed.
“I didn’t mean to pull you from your plans,” Best Jeanist continues. “He just mentioned you a lot… and I’m sure your schedule’s quite clear this time of evening.”
In other words, they knew he didn’t have anything better to do. Though he supposes it’s better than them knowing his attachments, even if he can’t shake the suspicion that Jeanist’s choice wording of your kid wasn’t just a joke.
“I’ll make sure he gets home safely.”
Hawks tunes in enough just to hear that last part. He looks stupidly giddy at the prospect. “We’re gonna ride the train together?”
“No public transport.” Enji refuses to budge on this. “You’ll get swarmed. My chauffeur is waiting.”
“Chauffeur…” Hawks echoes, turning the word over, tripping over it when he laughs. “You’re so cool, Endeavor!”
Enji can’t help the smile that pulls at his lips. He’s not one to be swayed by compliments, but there’s an earnestness in Hawks’s face he doesn’t see often. Three times now Hawks’s called him cool.
“Come along now.” He gives Hawks’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “And watch your footing.”
A warning that Hawks hears and promptly ignores. He nearly bites the curb on the way to the car, then crows about how cool Enji is for saving him. Best to get him into the car as quickly as possible.
Untenmaru offers him a brief, if judgmental, glance, but says nothing else. He’s not one for keeping his opinions to himself, especially about Enji’s choice of passengers, but tonight he finds fit to make an exception. Enji would say it’s pure curiosity, but he’d really rather not know.
“Where to, Endeavor?”
“Back to the estate,” Enji replies. He ignores the look Hawks gives him, because there’s no way he’s just going to drop Hawks off at his apartment to fend for himself. If he can barely handle himself on a curb, Enji would hate to see him try climbing stairs—or worse, flying up to his apartment.
The car lurches into traffic, and it’s not long before Hawks’s head dips. Untenmaru hates idle chatter—another reason why Enji hired him—but it’s probably best to keep Hawks talking for now. He doesn’t seem like he’d black out, but it never hurts to be cautious.
“An unusual crowd you’ve found yourself with,” Enji comments.
Hawks cracks a smile. “We always get drinks on Fridays.”
“Is that so?” Enji tries to keep his tone mild. It only makes sense that Hawks would have a social life. He’s certainly not jealous.
Hawks nods. “I can bring you with next time.” He puts a finger to his lips. The alcohol tilts his grin crooked. “I won’t tell anybody, it’s okay.”
Enji refrains from mentioning that he’s probably not welcome regardless. Even Best Jeanist, who he’s on the best terms with, learned a long time ago that he’s a wet blanket at social events.
“I wouldn’t want to ruin your fun,” Enji says instead.
“No, s’okay!” Hawks replies. The slur of his words has only worsened since getting in the car. “Mirko says you’re lame but don’ listen to her! We’ll show you how to party!”
“Fine, fine.” He only hopes that Hawks will have forgotten about this conversation by the time he’s sober. Or at the very least, that he’s able to resist the puppy eyes next time around.
Hawks pumps his fist in victory. “You’re gonna love it—the food is so good!”
There’s something off about his voice. Something that’s been nagging at the back of Enji’s mind for a while now, that he’s only just been able to put his finger on. And now that he’s thinking about it, Fatgum was using that voice he reserves only for young children.
“Keigo…” Enji chooses his words carefully. “Are you feeling small?”
Keigo’s cheeks redden even further, and he rocks back in his seat. Quickly, he finds he can’t sit back up. “No.”
So he’s a bad liar when he’s regressed and drunk. Good to know.
“You seem quite small to me.”
Then, so childishly that Enji would think he’s being baited under any other circumstance, Keigo pouts and crosses his arms. “’m very big. So big. The biggest.”
A very bad liar, then. “Then I suppose it’s only natural I put you to bed.”
Keigo glances at him, stunned, and it takes a moment before his features collapse into a smile. The alcohol has made him slower to react, yes, but it also paints his emotions clearly across his face. Genuine ones, too. Enji knows him enough to know the difference. “With a story?”
Enji feigns thinking on it. “Perhaps if you behave.”
Keigo huffs. The redness of his face darkens with indignance. “I’m the best behaved. See these wings? Means I’m a lil angel.”
“Sure.” Enji fights back his growing amusement. He supposes the sudden mood swings are par for the course too. Keigo does shift gears quite unexpectedly when he’s in his older regressed headspace. The alcohol just seems to ensure he’s not in control of how and where the pendulum swings.
He turns his attention to the traffic flowing around them, until a heavy weight thumps against his shoulder. Keigo doesn’t say anything, just shifts a little closer, so Enji responds in kind and silently wraps an arm around his shoulders.
“Sir?” Untenmaru breaks the silence as the car pulls to a stop. “We’ve arrived.”
“Thank you.” Enji could swear that ride was longer on the way up, but he won’t question fortune. “Keigo?” He shakes Keigo’s shoulder, only getting a groan in response.
Enji pauses, noting the sickly hue of Keigo’s face. Call him selfish, but he’d rather not have his favorite sweater ruined.
“Do you need to get sick?”
Keigo’s lower lip puffs out. “’m not that drunk.”
“You could’ve fooled me.” Perhaps he’ll regret taking Keigo at his word, but he lifts Keigo out of the car regardless. He dismisses Untenmaru for the night, certain he won’t need the car again.
Keigo is dead weight in his arms, slumped over his shoulders and barely moving. From how his breathing deepens, Enji would think he’s fallen asleep.
“Stop swayin’ me,” Keigo slurs out, batting his hand weakly against Enji’s chest.
“I’m not.” And since Keigo’s in another world right now, Enji rolls his eyes. “You’re just that drunk.”
He fumbles with the front door, but at the same time, he’s relieved that no one’s out. Fuyumi is out with friends, he thinks, and neither boys ever come home on the weekends.
Not that it would make much difference, but he knows Keigo is… vulnerable right now. You can’t blame him for feeling rather protective. Keigo dozing in his arms, he heads to the nursery.
Keigo lifts his head just long enough to notice where they are and whines his displeasures. “No crib.”
“No crib,” Enji agrees. The concern about Keigo rolling out of bed in his sleep is present but not pressing. “I’m just getting a few things.”
Keigo’s never been one for pacifiers, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. Enji knows for a fact that some of them—namely the fire engine red one and the baby blue one—have never been used. And a sippy cup, just in case. Keigo needs to keep hydrated, after all, and Enji wouldn’t trust him to hold a proper cup.
Keigo’s room is admittedly close to his own, not that it makes much of a difference. If Keigo is small enough to spend the night, he’ll want to sleep in Enji’s bed too. But it’s not about logistics; it’s about him having a space of his own that he can come home to.
The room is sparsely furnished, even though Enji told Keigo he could decorate it however he wanted. He was half-expecting Keigo to mess with him and decorate with floor to ceiling Endeavor merch, but the walls are just as bare as they were when this was a guest room.
“Down you go.” Enji lays him down, and thankfully, Keigo is just floaty enough to detach. Enji was sure that was going to be a fight too. “I have a surprise for you.”
Keigo perks up, giving Enji the most of his attention he can give.
And well, it wasn’t intended to be a surprise, but they’re here and it’s making Keigo happy. He doesn’t have to know the details. Besides, he doesn’t have his Endeavor plushie here, so he needs a replacement.
After his hospitalization, Keigo had more stuffed animals than he knew what to do with, though he ended up getting a boost in popularity by donating a large amount of them to children’s hospitals. As far as Enji knows, he didn’t keep any for himself. Which is where Enji came in.
In his defense, he hadn’t gone out of his way to get anything. Some hoodlum with a marine life quirk had broken into the aquarium to try and control the fish. Needless to say, he didn’t get far, especially when he saw that it was Endeavor, of all people, coming to arrest him. A pretty clean job, considering there was no property damage. And best of all, it put him right at the gift shop.
He'd ended up picking an otter, for no other reason than it was one of the bigger and more expensive plushies for sale. The owner had tried to wave the fee, but Enji was insistent. A hero with scruples shouldn’t take handouts. Especially not when he’s getting something for his kid.
Enji couldn’t bear to leave it in the nursery, so it’s been waiting in Keigo’s room, still in the gift bag he carried it home in. Enji isn’t one for drawing things out, so he removes the otter from the bag and places it directly into Keigo’s arms. It’s bigger, so it fits easier in Keigo’s arms than his usual Endeavor plush. Hopefully that will be enough to keep him from rolling out of bed.
“You like it?”
Keigo cuddles it close, a grin pushing up his rosy cheeks. “Love it!”
Well, he’s glad the gift is a success. He wonders how much Keigo will like the plushie when he’s sober. “You’ll have to be thinking about a name.”
Keigo nods. His smile dims as his face relaxes, as his eyes slip shut and he’s dangerously close to falling asleep again.
Best to let him sleep it off. Enji can only imagine what kind of hangover he’ll have in the morning, but they’ll cross that bridge when they come to it. For now, rest.
“I’ll check on you in the morning,” Enji says. “Sleep well.”
“Nooooo,” Keigo fumbles for Enji’s arm. He’s so tired he can’t even bring himself to open his eyes. “Stay with Dada.”
Enji starts. He’s almost certain he didn’t hear that right. “You mean stay with me.” And most bafflingly, he gets a nod in response.
Well, that’s… certainly a new development. Keigo has called him “Unca Enji” in the past, but it was clearly meant as a bit. Not to mention that it’s stopped in recent months. He thought it was just a joke that had lost its luster, but maybe it just started hitting too close to home.
“Alright, alright. I’m not going anywhere.” Do these big moments ever get easier? Enji can’t help freezing up, never knowing what to say, what vulnerability is too much. Will Keigo remember what he said, or just how Enji responded? Will he remember anything at all? He sits at Keigo’s bedside, consigning himself to another night of bad sleep. His back will surely hate him in the morning.
“Good.” Finally, Keigo’s able to latch his fingers in Enji’s sleeve. “Want a good dad for once.” He hums, his face goes slack, and Enji wonders if that’s the end of what he’ll share.
Enji shouldn’t ask. It’s absolutely, positively, none of his business, and he doesn’t have a right to know.
Keigo said he didn’t have the best track record with family and kept it at that, and Enji has been more than happy to do the same. But he can’t deny his curiosity.
He won’t say anything. This is not a conversation to have while one party is drunk.
Unfortunately for him, Keigo keeps talking anyway. His eyes flutter back open, and it’s clear he’s fighting tooth and nail to cling to consciousness.
“Dad drank a lot. Hit. Kinda guy you gotta keep people safe from.” His lips tease a smile, a laugh he doesn’t mean. “And Mama…” To Enji’s surprise, tears gather under the bridge of Keigo’s lashes. “Mama never liked me.”
Enji shushes him. “It’s time to rest.”
Keigo needs to sleep this off. It’s a miracle he hasn’t thrown up yet, and Enji would like to see him off to sleep before he does end up getting sick.
But most of all, he doesn’t like seeing Keigo raw and hurting, his pain on full display. Even in his most vulnerable moments—on the rooftop, on the first night—he’s never heard Keigo speak so openly about his past. It’s all been hints at something worse, a mask of its own, in a way. For the first time in his life, his face is bare.
“And you’ll stay?”
“Yes, of course.”
Appeased, Keigo settles back into the weight of the blankets and goes still. One hand remains loosely fisted in Enji’s sleeve, an extra layer of security that Enji isn’t going anywhere.
With nowhere else to go, Enji settles in and tries not to get too wrapped up in his thoughts.
Imagine that.
Dada.
Just as Enji predicted, when he wakes up, his back is killing him.
He managed to move over just enough to use one of the extra pillows as back support, but it wasn’t enough to spare him the pain.
Keigo is dead asleep still, his mouth half-open. He managed to shuffle off the pillow in his sleep, leaving him curled up around his otter for support. Whenever he wakes up, he’s going to have a killer hangover, so Enji plans ahead.
As Untenmaru loves to remind Enji, he’s not a delivery driver, and he doesn’t run errands. Which is why he knows it’s a special circumstance when Enji asks him to make a run to a convenience store. Honestly, Enji couldn’t ask for a better driver.
He leaves Keigo’s room just long enough to find the plastic bag waiting on his doorstep, Untenmaru nowhere to be found. Enji will have to thank him in person later. By the time he’s back, Keigo is grousing awake, clear discomfort pinching the crease between his eyebrows.
“First hangover?” Enji hands him the bottle of painkillers first.
“No.” From the way he pops three aspirin in a single gulp, he’s not lying. But he’s definitely not an expert either.
“You need to get hydrated.” Enji passes him the sports drink, relieved that it’s cold to the touch. Untenmaru deserves a raise for this one.
Keigo takes a drink and immediately wrinkles his nose, metering out the sips to be as short as he can get away with. At some point, the sugar stops settling like a rock in his stomach, which is when he shifts to gulping the drink down as quickly as he can.
Enji doesn’t say anything, giving him the space to wake up and sort himself out. Does he remember what he said? Or is he just hoping that Enji doesn’t want to talk about it either?
“You should eat something soon,” Enji says, once the silence has gone on uncomfortably long. He knows he’s getting too bossy for his own good, but he can’t help it. Those dark circles under Keigo’s eyes look awful.
Keigo runs a hand through his hair, trying his hardest to tame the wild mess. The effort only makes him look more disheveled.
“You can just forget that thing I said. I was really out of it.” Keigo straightens up, flashing him a bright, inauthentic smile. “Half of what I was saying wasn’t even true, you know?”
“Of course,” Enji says slowly.
There’s very little he can take in stride, and this special circumstance is absolutely not one of them.
“Regardless, if you were to see me as a father figure…” Enji trails off. How does he say this without sounding like he’s trying to force his own wants? “…Then I would be honored you saw me like that. And I would do my best to live up to that expectation.”
Silence. Enji tries not to take that as a dismissal or a rejection. Against all better judgment, he keeps talking.
“And if you didn’t, then that would be perfectly fine too. All I want is for you to be comfortable to act however you want while regressed. That’s what’s most important to me.”
He’ll spare Keigo the thoughts that kept him up all night. That if he could go back in time and reverse all his mistakes, treat his kids right the first time, he would. And that, the more he finds out, the more those thoughts involve pulling Keigo from whatever awful home he was raised in. Fixing his own mistakes is no longer enough. He has to fix another father’s too.
Keigo smiles again, a smaller, tight-lipped pull of his mouth. Strained. Tired. Enji wouldn’t be surprised if he needed a nap later today. “I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow. Thanks. For everything.”
He’s clearly trying to make his escape, and Enji won’t keep him. Sure, he looks worse for wear the longer he’s awake, and Enji wants nothing more than to sweep him up in a blanket and make him rest, but that’s not his choice to make.
It's a hard lesson to learn, but he has to let his kids come to him.
Keigo makes his hasty escape, and Enji simply has to believe he hasn’t messed everything up. Clearly Keigo needs space. Enji will comply.
So he reins himself in, and the result is a full week of radio silence, which is nothing new for Enji. He’ll send good morning messages to his kids every day and only get a response every couple of weeks. It’s Friday evening, a full week away from the incident, that Enji finds his willpower draining. He sends a single text.
Enji
Try and take it easy tonight
He sends this message and puts his phone down, intent on not lingering. He won’t spend the rest of the evening obsessively checking his phone in hopes of Keigo messaging him back. So imagine his surprise when the response is instant.
Keigo
DAD!!!!
you r my dad
hi
Enji can’t fight back a smile, relief pulsing through him. He didn’t mess things up, that’s good to know.
But for now, he’s sure he’ll have to go pick up his kid.