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Touya could taste the metallic tang of a fork held too long between clenched teeth more than the bland, flavourless, lukewarm potatoes clumped on his dinner plate. He deliberately chewed slowly and steadily, mouth locked shut, trying too hard to stay silent.
While the Todorokis had access to hundreds of different spices, vegetables, and cuts of meat, the love was certainly beginning to dwindle from Rei Todoroki’s home meals. She sat across from him, knuckles white from clenching a napkin in her sweaty palms. She didn’t look at her hard work, or make an attempt at eating.
His eyes locked as a bead of condensation ran down the side of his glass, more movement than anyone else in the room besides an uncomfortable shuffle on a creaking chair and a stray cough. Touya’s eyes darted towards the clock, counting the minutes until sweet escape.
A sharp kick knocked Touya back into reality, watching his little brother Shoto swing his legs back and forth. Despite being worked to the bone all day by their father, he was still a bundle of joy and energy. Touya didn’t understand how.
“Natsuo?” Shoto asked, tilting his head with a hint of curiosity laced in his words, “How’s your girlfriend?”
Natsuo coughed up his drink, sputtering and heaving for a breath. Touya rolled his eyes at his brother while Fuyumi immediately rubbed his back soothingly. Natsuo’s voice cracked, cheeks scarlet, “What?—Who—Who told you that? I never, I don’t—“
“I heard you on the phone the other day. You called her babe.” Shoto’s lips smacked as he chewed loudly on a bit of the slightly bitter, overcooked roast.
“It’s okay, Natsuo.” Fuyumi giggled lightly, her hand covering her soft smile. “Nobody’s teasing you.”
Natsuo grumbled under his breath, stabbing a bit of broccoli with his fork as if he had been wounded. “Feels like it…”
The distant hum of the refrigerator became the only source of noise, the conversation trailing back off into silence, and the scraping of cutlery against plates. Touya’s elbow ached from the dull, numbing pressure of resting his head on his arm for too long.
“Touya?” Shoto swallowed loudly, looking at him with a soft smile. He didn’t understand a single social cue. When the room is silent, keep it silent. Less chance for their father to lash out, therefore less stress for Touya. “Why don’t you have a girlfriend?”
Touya muttered, pushing the food around his plate absentmindedly. Other guys lost their minds over girls, falling to their knees the second one looked their way.
Obviously, he could tell when a girl was pretty. Yet, he never felt a pull. Never felt drawn to a single soul, despite many calling out to him. Girls were like a painting to him - something decent to look at, but not something he wanted to touch. Maybe he was overthinking it, maybe it wasn’t his time yet. It would happen when it happens, that’s what they all say. Right?
Touya mumbled, a bit of broccoli stuffed in his cheek, “I don’t know. None of the girls I know are interesting enough. I don’t think about them like that, really.”
Natsuo sniggered, tapping his fingers on the table. Like most younger siblings, he loved to rile his older siblings up, baiting them to get mad over the tiniest, insignificant things. His voice was teasing, “Maybe he’s just gay, Shoto.”
If the tension was bad before, it worsened within a split second. The air became chilly, while a burst of heat soared from the other side of the table. Touya stiffened, broccoli half-chewed in his mouth. He shouldn’t be affected by such a stupid comment. He wasn’t gay. He wasn’t .
He was affected, though. The silence was suffocating, and Touya felt like he was drowning. He was drowning in this nightmare— this nightmare of a household. A large clang reverberated in the room. Touya didn’t need to look to see that his father had shattered the fine china plate.
His voice was cold, warning, as he glared at Touya, taking a deep breath, “That better not be the case, boy.”
Natsuo’s teasing smile faded, and it felt more suitable to stare at his food than to see his older brother flustered and embarrassed. Fuyumi bit her lip nervously, while Shoto focused on his food. Touya noticed the slight tremble in his mother’s gaze.
“It’s not,” Touya whispered.
“You have a legacy to carry, Touya. You will marry a good woman and have children. That’s how it’s supposed to be. That’s how it’s always been in this family. You will follow the traditional values we install in this home, or the door is there.”
Ashamed, Touya gulped, looking down at his food. His lips were pressed in a thin line, the corners downturned. Fuyumi scrambled to change the topic, managing to drift the conversation and get her father to talk about his day at work. Touya finally glimpsed at Natsuo. His brother was blatantly staring, eyes widening slightly. Unspoken thoughts passed between them. Natsuo wasn’t sure if his joke was really a joke at all.