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Natsuo can’t quite say that his relationship with Shouto is perfect. They both have old wounds and scars over their very souls that are always gonna itch just a little at the most inopportune times.
He knows more about phantom pain than his residency could ever hope to teach him, and he can’t even begin to guess how Shouto feels.
Still, he’s trying.
They’re both trying.
Shouto’s never pressured him to forgive their father, and Natsuo’s never questioned any of his little brother’s decisions. Not to his face. Not in general.
They hang out more often now, just for the sake of it. Right now it’s mid-morning and Shouto’s walking by his side. They’re on their way to his apartment. For now they’re alone, but his girlfriend might join them in the evening if her supervisor doesn’t call her into work.
“It was difficult to do anything once Uraraka had us stuck in the air.”
“So what did you do?”
“I flailed around in the air,” Shouto deadpans.“And then Midoriya came in and he used his—” He cuts himself off. He’s looking ahead, his body already poised for attack. Natsuo tenses up automatically, then they both hear sharp child-like cries.
When Shouto starts running, he follows, though he’s slower without the regular physical training.
They get to what Shouto had seen— a little girl, fallen over and clutching her abdomen. There’s no visible threat around.
Shouto crouches down. “Where are you hurt?”
She points to a cut on her stomach that looks like a cement scrape, but really nasty. Shouto opens his messenger bag and pulls out his travel-sized medical kit, then he starts cutting some gauze with a pair of scissors.
Natsuo looks up and meets the faces of two scared men. He tries for a calm, encouraging smile. “Are you with her? My brother has training, he’s a Hero student.”
One of them relaxes just a little. “We’re her parents.”
The other’s still frowning. His purple eyebrows accentuate the expression. “As long as he’s careful. And he doesn’t activate her Quirk.”
“Her Quirk?”
“It’s not a big deal,” the first dad says. “Just don’t touch her—”
There’s a loud poof sound. Seconds later, two little kids are standing in front of them. Not one, but two. Holding hands and giggling as the girl takes in her new friend.
“—hand,” the dad finishes.
“A bit late for that one,” Natsuo says.
He looks down again and he’s met with open heterochromatic eyes. Shouto’s so young he doesn’t even have his scar, and something about that makes Natsuo’s heart hurt.
“Natsu-nii?” Shouto says, still holding the girl’s hand.
“Hi, buddy.” Natsuo smiles, then he glances at the parents, who don’t really look surprised. “How long?” he whisper-shouts.
“A few hours,” the guy with the purple hair says. “No side effects besides this, won’t leave any permanent mark.”
“We’re sorry,” his partner adds. He takes the girl away from Shouto, gently coaxing them apart.
Natsuo wants to be mad, he does, but it’s coming from a child. A child Shouto has helped, because he wants to be a Hero and he carries first-aid even when he’s not on shift.
He sighs. “We should go home.”
Shouto’s face sours a little, but he nods.
“Not home . My home.”
“Oh,” Shouto says. He perks up. “You moved out?”
“Yeah, for college.”
“I missed a lot. Probably training too much to see you leave.” Shouto shrugs. He didn’t say it to make anyone sad, that was just what he was thinking. And isn’t that exactly why Natsuo needs to take care of him.
“Shouto, come on,” he says. “We can stop at the merch store on the way.”
His little brother beams, and Natsuo can’t help a responding smile.
They stop at a kakigori stand on the side of the road. The metal sign’s rusty, but Natsuo can see how Shouto’s eyes linger on the little piles of shaved ice, and he doesn’t really have it in him to not do whatever Shouto wants right then.
“Let’s get in the line.” He guides his little brother closer to the stall, walking more slowly to let him stay by his side. God, he’s so small . Natsuo’s scared he’s gonna hurt him, or make him sad somehow, and he doesn’t think he’d be able to live with himself if he did.
“ ‘m not supposed to eat that,” Shouto says. There’s visible longing on his face as they watch a tall woman with purple hair get a cone loaded with orange mango syrup.
Something twists in Natsuo’s stomach. Shouto still thinks he’s on that asshole’s training regimen.
“Doesn’t matter today, buddy,” he says, as gently as he can. He won’t let his anger at someone else hurt Shouto.
“Really?”
“Really.” Natsuo squeezes his hand. “What flavour do you want?”
“Strawberry,” Shouto responds. “With condensed milk.”
Natsuo smiles at the way he tries to point at the squeeze bottle with his little hand. He orders and pays for both of them—something that grown-up Shouto tends to resist.
They’re standing on a bench and eating their treats. Shouto licks the plastic of his kakigori cup when icy condensed milk starts dripping down the side.
When he stops, Natsuo holds up his hand and freezes the liquid. “Look.”
Shouto giggles .
“You can use yours, too.”
Shouto moves his ice-wielding hand and frowns. Ice starts to form on his fingertips and spreads, then makes little up-standing icicles. He turns the cup to Natsuo. “It didn’t work.”
“No, you did well.”
“I did?” Shouto looks so shocked Natsuo wants to punch something.
“Perfectly.” He takes Shouto’s other hand and gently puts it on the side of the cup. “You just have to warm it up a little.”
It works. Shouto’s a natural, after all, just like their father wanted.
The ice melts enough to be eaten and the condensed milk becomes liquid, but it doesn’t all defrost. He giggles and takes a spoonful right away.
Natsuo smiles. “There you go, Shouto.”
His little brother goes quiet all of a sudden, and Natsuo has the belated thought that he doesn’t know how to take care of kids. “Something wrong?” he asks.
“You and Touya-nii and nee-san call each other by nicknames.” His voice is so quiet .
“We—” They grew up together. They used to be so close, before everything. And Shouto wasn’t there with them, and none of them insisted on it no matter how useless it would’ve been.
He can’t say that.
“Do you want one?” he asks instead.
Shouto’s eyes widen. “Can I?”
“Of course.” Natsuo’s stuck for a second. He can’t use the same honorific he did for Touya. Shouto’s so much younger than him now, he’s not even elementary school aged. “Shouto-chan.”
Shouto takes a mouthful of shaved ice, poorly hiding a smile behind the cup.
Now it’s not just him who’s held away from them. Natsuo can’t make it so Shouto plays with them for the next few years, or so Touya doesn’t become what he did, or so all of them actually get along like Fuyumi wanted, but he can do this for his little brother.
They do end up stopping at a Hero merch store near Natsuo’s apartment. Shouto’s steps get faster when he can tell where they are, and by the entrance he’s practically pulling Natsuo in by his hand.
An All Might display right next to the entrance seems to catch Shouto’s eyes. He stops in front of it, his eyes so wide they’re almost hard to recognize.
Natsuo smiles. He feels like he finally got something right. “You—you like All Might, Shouto-chan?”
He knows grown-up Shouto does, and he has for a while, but Natsuo couldn’t name an age. To his relief, Shouto’s face lights up from the inside. He smiles, showing his teeth.
“Watcha think of that plushie, then?” He points to the one right in front of them, sitting on top of a pile of toys that look the same as it does. All Might’s doing a victory pose.
Shouto thinks, then shakes his head. “His costume’s a bit wrong.”
Natsuo rolls his eyes and lets himself be led through the store by the hand.