Chapter Text
#1 Worst Father >>
Happy Birthday, Shouto. Please contact me. [read 1/11]
#1 Worst Father >>
Are you getting these texts? Call me. [read yesterday]
#1 Worst Father >>
Hawks told me that he spoke to you. Did he remind you to call me back like I asked him to? [read 9:24 am]
#1 Worst Father >>
Shouto, I need to speak with you. Stop ignoring my phone calls. [read 12:37 pm]
#1 Worst Father >>
Answer your phone. This is important. [read 6:12 pm]
#1 Worst Father >>
I know you’re getting these, Shouto. Call me. [read 6:49 pm]
Shouto sighed and rubbed at her forehead. She could feel a headache coming on. Whatever this was about, he didn’t seem to be keen on letting it go, much to her irritation.
“What’s that look for?” Izuku hummed in concern, glancing over his shoulder at her. The pan sizzled over the burner as he poked at their dinner.
“My father won’t leave me alone.” She muttered. With a scowl, she locked her phone and slid it across the table to get it out of her mind. “He’s been texting me practically on the hour ever since my birthday.”
“What for?” He turned his attention back to the food.
“Don’t know, he just keeps saying to call him. Momo said he stopped by yesterday, so it must be serious.” She added.
A worried squeak escaped him. “He was at her apartment out of the blue?”
“Well, he thinks I live there.” Shouto pointed out. She propped her chin up with her hand as he walked over with the pan and separated the contents onto two plates. “I’m just lucky Momo doesn’t mind keeping some of my stuff there.”
“Well, are you going to call him?”
“I’m sure I don’t have a choice.” She frowned. “I think it’s only a matter of time before he shows up at my work. I don’t need him poking his nose in that, too.”
Izuku tilted his head. “You’ve always got a choice, Shoucchan. If you don’t want to talk to him, then just keep ignoring him.”
“He’s annoyingly determined...I want to know what his problem is.”
He nodded and took a single step back into their kitchen to toss the pan in the sink. “Okay, so–“
Shouto reached over her steaming plate and grabbed her phone. “How long until the rice is done?”
“Oh, um...” Izuku twisted around and squinted at the cooker. “Six minutes.”
She stood with a nod. “I’ll call him back, but if I’m not done by the time the rice is, call me from your phone and I’ll give him some excuse that it’s work or whatever.”
“Alright.” He smiled weakly. “Good luck.”
“Thanks.” Shouto nodded again, scrolling through her long list of missed calls. His stupid contact was bleeding down the screen. She had tried blocking his number a few times in high school, but he always just showed up at school when she wouldn’t answer. One of these days she’d get a new number and just not tell him.
She started to step out of the kitchen, but Izuku called for her again. “Whoa, wait a second!” He stole her wrist and tugged her toward him suddenly. Izuku’s smile grew as he spoke. “I love you.” He punctuated the little confession with a kiss to the top of her head.
The left side of her face heated at the random gesture. He always knew how to distract her with these kinds of things. Shouto snorted softly and smiled up at him. “You’re silly.”
Izuku laughed at her and kissed her nose before he released her. “Five minutes now!” He called as she disappeared into their bedroom. Shouto shook her head to herself; the ghost of a smile lingering on her face.
It quickly faded as she remembered the task at hand. She shut the door behind her and pressed call. As it rang, Shouto lingered awkwardly in the middle of the room for a moment. Then, she nonchalantly threw herself on the bed and stared up at the ceiling in an attempt to distract herself.
Maybe he wouldn’t answer. That would save her a lot of trouble.
“Hello?” Damn it.
She exhaled. “Father.”
“Shouto?” He sounded genuinely surprised to hear her. “I went by your apartment. That Yaoyorozu girl said you were at work–“
“I was. What do you want?” She asked bluntly. There was no point in making small talk.
He might have spent the last few years pretending to be civil, but Shouto didn’t think she would ever grow used to this kind of calm. It always felt fake, like something was still waiting in the wings until she let her guard down. Their relationship was not one that was built on frequent calls and casual small talk.
Her father cleared his throat. “I’d like to invite you to dinner one of these nights.”
“What?” She furrowed her eyebrows and sat up.
As he continued, Shouto made puzzled eye contact with the vintage All Might poster on the wall, like the paper hero might miraculously explain what exactly was going on. “Dinner. I’ll pay.“
“Why?” Shouto asked slowly.
“There’s some things I’d like to discuss with you. In person.” He returned simply. “Besides, it can be your birthday present since I missed talking to you the day of.”
“Birthday...” She scowled.
Birthday present, she could laugh aloud. The only birthday present he ever gave her was the first of many bruises when she was four years old.
He was never this vague. Endeavor was not a stealthy hero and Enji was not a casual person. This had to be one of the weirdest conversations they had ever shared.
“Shouto? Are you still there?”
“Fine.” She said.
“Good. Does Thursday at seven work?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll text you an address–“ He started.
Shouto hung up before he could add anything else. She stared at the screen for a long, confused moment. She slipped out of the bedroom quietly, unsure what else to say.
“Hey,” Izuku looked up from his phone at her. “I was just about to call you. What’d he want?”
“He invited me to dinner.”
“What?”
“I said yes.”
“What?!”
Shouto nodded. She abandoned her phone on the changer, watching the screen light up as an address appeared on the lock screen. Izuku wore a concerned expression as he watched her.
She sighed. “He said he had important things to discuss with me or whatever. It’s probably something stupid, but I said yes anyway.”
“Hm...that’s really weird. Are you going to be okay meeting him?”
“I already said yes.”
“You could always cancel. I’m sure you could find some mission to stick you on to get you out of town.” Izuku pointed out. He set out their drinks, muttering to himself about various excuses for her to use.
They sat across from each other finally to eat. Shouto silently poked at her food. Suddenly, she felt like she had lost her appetite. Why did she let that bastard still do this to her?
“You know, maybe he’ll tell you he’s got a terminal disease or something.” Izuku suggested.
A surprised laugh escaped her. Shouto shook her head with a grin. “I hope so.”
“What if he’s leaving his whole agency to you or something?” He theorized, tapping his chin with his chopsticks. “Or maybe a villain will take him out on the way to the restaurant.”
“I wish I could tell people how much you talk about killing the number one hero.” She returned.
“They’d never believe you.” Her boyfriend smirked.
Shouto smiled and took his hand across the rickety table. She turned it over pressed a kiss to his scarred knuckles. “Oh, trust me, I know.”
“Are you sure about this, Shoucchan?” Izuku leaned back on the bathroom counter, frowning slightly at her.
“It’s just dinner. We can have dinner, right?” She pushed another pin in her hair.
He didn’t say anything for a moment, seemingly content in watching her attempt to fix her hair into something neater. Shouto didn’t know why she bothered. Her father would probably just make more jabs about how it’s too long. He liked to remind her how useless long hair was in battle. If it wasn’t outright burning the ends like he used to do in her childhood, it was those scolding comments.
“You know you don’t owe him anything, don’t you?” Izuku broke his silence suddenly. A pin clinked against the countertop, slipping out of her fingertips.
Shouto sighed and picked it up before unceremoniously stabbing it into the ivory half of her bangs. “I know...I’m not meeting him for his sake. Whatever he needs to tell him is important enough that he won’t let it go. I just hope that tonight is the end of it.”
He smiled quietly at her. “You’re too kind, sometimes, Shouto.”
“I think you’re the only person in the world who believes that.” She answered simply.
Izuku scoffed and reached out to tug her closer. His arms closed around her waist as he rested his head on her shoulder and exhaled. Shouto gave up her efforts and dropped the last few pins in the cup behind him. She ran a hand through his hair, tangling his dark curls.
For a long moment, she counted the seconds and wondered how much long she could put this off. Shouto was already regretting her decision to be the bigger person.
“Seven, right?” He asked without moving. “You’re going to be late, if you’re going.”
“I’m rethinking it.” She joked softly.
Shouto pushed away slightly to look at him. Worry was obvious in his knitted eyebrows, the tilt of his head as he watched her. She reached up and traced that scar that cut through the corner of his left eyebrow, took a chunk out of his ear.
He had a lot of scars now. He collected them like memories, showing them off in the quiet of their apartment. Shouto had spent hours counting them before, pressing kisses to each of them like that might fix the broken skin.
Izuku leaned into her touch. “Got a decision yet?”
“Yeah.” Shouto let out a breath. “It’s not the right one, unfortunately. I should go before he scolds me over my tardiness.” She muttered with a roll of her eyes.
He pulled her into a kiss, then another. Finally, they broke away. Izuku rested his forehead against hers with a fond smile. “One text and I’ll be there, if you need me.”
“It’s just dinner.” She said.
“I know.” He answered.
The restaurant was exactly what she expected it to be: over-the-top and practically oozing money and elitism.
It was downtown and took almost an hour train to get there from Izuku’s place on the outskirts of the city. Inside the sleek building, she was met with employees dressed in sharp aprons and and even sharper glares. The waiting room was nearly overflowing at this hour, but she didn’t see her father among the impatience patrons.
Shouto walked up to the host and opened her mouth, but the woman spoke before she could say another. “Todoroki-san, your father is already waiting for you. Please follow me.”
Of course he was.
Silently, she followed the woman through the maze of tables and attendees.
They passed crisp tables of white plates and lipstick-stained wine glasses until they reached a massive arch that she figured opened into the main dining room. The floor was covered in velvet; gold chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a glitter over the various tables. Massive windows made up two of the walls, displaying a panoramic of the Tokyo skyline.
She finally spotted her father in a far corner. He was seated in front of one of the windows. The deep scarlet curtains clashed terribly with his hair as he took a sip of his wine.
The hostess cleared her throat and gestured to the lone chair across from him. “Would you like anything besides water to drink, Todoroki-san?”
Shouto didn’t usually like alcohol, but she had a feeling she was going to want something strong tonight.
“No, she’s fine.” Someone answered for her. Shouto stiffened at his voice, already irritated by his simple presence.
The woman bowed deeply. “I’ll give you some time to look at the menu.” With that, she disappeared into the sea of guests and left them alone. Shouto took her seat.
“You’re late.”
“I missed my first train.” It was a lie. Her apartment with Izuku was further from here than Momo’s. “Had to catch another.”
“You should buy a car. Don’t waste your time with public transportation.”
Shouto finally forced herself to make eye contact with the man before her. He was dressed in a stuffy dress shirt; she was mildly surprised it wasn’t his hero costume. The typical flames were absent from his features as well, another oddity. Curious, she stole a glance at the ceiling above their table.
Ah. There was the sprinkler sensor above their heads.
“You should get a closer apartment, too.” Momentarily, Shouto paused. “That one you share with the Yaoyorozu girl is far from everything. The fact that you have a roommate at all anymore is...silly.”
Twice.
She’d barely been here for five minutes and that was twice now that he told her she should do something.
Shouto pressed her lips into a line and raised her eyebrows. “So now you have a problem with Momo?”
“I don’t, the point was that you shouldn’t have to rely on someone else to pay your rent.” Her father corrected.
She resisted the urge to scoff aloud. “A sidekick’s salary can’t support rent anywhere closer downtown.”
“Right. You’re still a sidekick.” He exhaled. “You know that you wouldn’t have that issue at my agency.”
“I think I’ve made it clear I’ve got no interest working under you.” Shouto snapped.
Her father narrowed his eyes, but he was interrupted by another woman’s appearance. Shouto assumed this was their waitress, as she was dressed in a neat, yet slightly sweaty, uniform and a nervous expression. Clearly, she recognized the two heroes sitting before her.
With a notepad clasped in her hands, she broke their tension. “May I take your orders or would you like more time?”
“No. We’re ready.” Shouto said sharply before her father could speak.
She hadn’t even glanced at the menu, but she picked something randomly as he ordered what must be the most expensive thing listed. Shouto had never really cared for European food, so of course that’s what he picked tonight.
The waitress left them alone again and Shouto took a long sip of water.
“Happy birthday, you know.”
“Mmhm. You’re about a week late.”
“I texted you. You don’t answer your phone.”
“I was busy.”
“With that sidekick position?”
Shouto scowled and set down her glass firmly. “Let’s not play this game, Father. You don’t care about my birthday and I don’t care for small talk, so let’s get it over with. What is this about? What do you want?”
His eyes burned into her. Shouto curled her hand in the fabric of her dress, stifling the growing ice crystals under the table.
She hated this. She hated him. She hated that she agreed to this in the first place.
Casually, he adjusted his napkin and spoke. “Have you seen the recent Hero Billboards?”
“Of course I have, I was at the announcement party.” She retorted. “Number one again, congratulations.”
“You were thirty-first.”
So what?
That was the wrong answer, she knew, but she wanted to say it anyway. Numbers and rankings weren’t something she had seriously cared about since high school. Shouto didn’t care if people liked her, she never really had. Hero rankings were just a publicized popularity contest in her mind.
A voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like Izuku reminded her that rankings were determined each year through a combination of successful missions, incident reports, total arrests as well as the usual publicity polls, but again, Shouto didn’t care.
He had been the one who cared.
“Why are you bringing this up? That’s not bad for a sidekick my age.” Shouto pointed out. “There wasn’t anyone even from my graduating class ranked higher than me besides–“
“Deku was fifteenth.”
Subconsciously, she flinched.
He didn’t know anything about Izuku. He didn’t know about them. He couldn’t know about them. Midoriya Izuku was nothing more than an old classmate, one that Shouto didn’t even talk to anymore.
“Yes. He was.”
Her father frowned, circling his crystalline glass. “I’m concerned about your future, Shouto.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She countered in irritation.
“You’re twenty-three now, sharing an apartment with a friend from high school and stuck as a sidekick in at a C-list agency. You haven’t broken the top twenty heroes since you’ve graduated and, if I didn’t know better, you’re satisfied with that.” The hero punctuated his list with a dangerous look.
Shouto started to shake her head. “I don’t–“
“It’s time for you to stop playing around,” He interrupted sharply. “and for you to stop soiling your name.”
“You mean your name.” She emphasized.
“No, this is about you.” He snapped. “I was patient with your little rebellion over your fire and then your refusal after graduation, but it’s time to grow up.”
She nearly laughed. This was ridiculous. She should have known he was going to be like this, he always was.
Shouto pushed away from the table. “I’m not listening to this. I’m not sixteen anymore, Father. I don’t know where you got the idea that you’ve got any control over me, but you don’t. I’ll work wherever I want and you have no say in the matter.”
“Sit down.” He growled.
“No, I’m leaving.” The younger hero returned bluntly. She started to turn back toward the entrance of the restaurant, but he spoke again.
“If you take another step away from this table, you can say goodbye to your hero license.”
Shouto stopped. She glanced over her shoulder at him. Smoke rose from between his fingers as he watched her. His glass bubbled, nearly boiling. “What are you talking about?”
His eyes flashed with some kind of satisfaction. It was something that should be accompanied with pain and ash. She nearly flinched at the memory alone. “You said it yourself. I’m the number one hero. I’ve earned my position for several years now, despite how I got it initially. If needed, I’m not above contacting the Commission and informing them about some...unstable behavior in my youngest daughter. The kind of thing that makes her unfit to continue working in a hero environment.“
She stilled, fingers curling in her palms. “I’m not unstable, I’m perfectly capable of my job. You made sure of that.“ She hissed.
“With your mother’s history and, of course, Touya’s condition, I’m not sure if we can be sure of that.” He answered cooly. “You’ve visited him in Tartarus, haven’t you? Who’s to say you haven’t started to agree with some of his ideas?”
Her vision narrowed. It took every ounce of her self control to not leap across the table and strangle him. Maybe a well-timed ice spike. Maybe she’d be breaking a brother of hers out of Tartarus tonight to put another scar on his face.
How dare he–
The hero cleared his throat. “I’ve got enough leeway in the Commission that I’m sure they would take my concerns into consideration, especially when it comes time to renew your license. That’s every five years for sidekicks, isn’t it?”
Shouto didn’t answer. She was too busy trying to not set the building on fire. He’d just love to see that, more evidence for her instability.
He frowned, eyes darkening. “They might even need to look into that roommate of yours, who knows what you two get up to with her family’s money, since you refuse mine–“
She gripped the edge of her chair, frost twisting over her fingers. Through gritted teeth, Shouto warned. “Keep Momo out of this, she didn’t do anything to you.”
“Then sit down.” Her father said. “Besides, our meal is here.”
Startled, Shouto turned around to see the poor waitress watching them with two plates balanced in her hands. She didn’t say anything else, silently taking her seat again. The woman set down each plate, then bowed again and effectively disappeared.
Shouto had lost the little appetite she had. She stared at the food, unsure what exactly to do with it.
He couldn’t actually be serious. He didn’t have the authority. Being the number one hero did not make him head of the Commission. There wasn’t any evidence, he couldn’t even make a case.
Assuming there was a case at all. Despite the League’s efforts, the Commission still had issues. There were reforms, but like all bureaucracy, it was slow-going. The Commission had always liked her father anyway. They helped him cover up all his family history, all the things he did to them, didn’t they?
It’d only take a phone call; a favor cashed in for saving some politician’s grandchild.
“You should eat. Your food will get cold.”
“I’ll warm it up.”
He sighed. “You’ve got this ridiculous rebellious streak, Shouto. You’re not sixteen anymore, when are you going to grow out of it?”
“When I’m dead.” Shouto snapped. “So what’s the point? What the hell did you spend twelve years training me for if you’re going to just pull my license?”
“Keep your voice down.” Her father warned. She could care less about the dining room of people around them, but he always hated to make a scene like this. He hated the idea that they were anything but perfect. “Regardless, I had higher hopes for you. If you had just started at my agency as a full hero, you could already be so much better. However, I have an idea if you’d like to redeem yourself.”
She raised her eyebrows, unimpressed. “Oh? Do tell, Father.”
“I think it’s time you find a suitable partner.”
“A...what?” He couldn’t possible mean...
He sliced through his steak matter-of-factly. “A quirk marriage, Shouto.”
Her breath came out frosted, freezing before her eyes. She gripped the pristine silverware, wishing she had the courage to drive it through his hand. She stared blankly at her father; his words echoed in her mind.
“No...no, you can’t do that.” She shook her head. Shouto scoffed. “No, I’m not getting–“
“Yes, you will or I can guarantee that you’ll never work as a hero in this country again.” He answered sharply. She shook her head more firmly, but he continued. “Not to mention your mother.”
Shouto dug her nails into the icy tabletop. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Her father gave her a frown. “I mean that I could put her back in that hospital, if it was necessary.”
She has just gotten out. For ten years, she rotted in that hospital because of Shouto, because of him, and here he was, threatening her again. Shouto longed for a villain attack, for a meteor to crash into Tokyo and put an end to this here and now.
“As well as yourself. You’ll never be a hero, I’ll make sure of it.”
She swallowed. “You can’t do this.”
“I can and I will.” The hero stated. “These are only the worst case scenario, if you insist on making this difficult. There’s no reason your marriage can’t be painless.”
A bitter laugh escaped her. “What? Like yours was?”
He narrowed his eyes, but ignored her. “Put it like this. You’ll be married by the end of the year, or you’ll be out of a job and a mother.”
“Great.” Shouto rubbed her face in her hands and jerked her head up to glare at him. “Fucking great. So how’s this work? You’re just going to show up with a man and I’m supposed to just say I do? Are you planning our honeymoon, too? Going to move in with us?”
“I’ve already been looking at suitors who have desirable quirks. I’ll present you with three young men and you may have your pick between them.” He explained simply, pausing for another bite. “There’s something else, before you decide to make this more difficult than it needs to be.”
“Something else? Amazing, this is like Christmas.” Shouto leaned back in her chair and stared up at the ceiling. There was a chandelier that was in the most perfect position to slice open his neck, right next to that fire sprinkler.
He exhaled. “If you go through with this peacefully and painlessly, then I’ll retire and leave everything to you.”
Shouto straightened up in her chair in disbelief. “What?”
“A considerable amount of money for you to do with as you please, as well as my agency. You know that it’s not typical for heroes to actually have legal and financial ownership of agencies like I do. At the very least, you could be a headline hero by this time next year.” Her father continued. “All of it would be yours.“
“You’d retire?” She clarified again.
Shouto never thought she’d hear that word leave his mouth. Endeavor was not a hero that would die quietly. She always assumed it would be in battle, at the hands of some villain that had a lucky day. She used to wish for it, lying on the floor of that dojo.
“The very next day.”
“Your agency?”
“Yes. Full inheritance of all my assets, excluding the house and some minor sums that are set aside for Fuyumi, Natsuo, and your mother.” He said.
He would throw everything at this. He wasn’t ever going to let it go.
A marriage for the career she spent almost twenty years of her life working for.
A marriage for her mother’s freedom.
A marriage to never see Endeavor written on the Billboard rankings again.
A marriage to someone besides Izuku, the man she’d loved since she was fifteen and set aflame in an arena.
Shouto looked down at her food again. It was completely untouched.
She might be sick.
“Shouto?” She slid her chair back, unable to stand another look in his direction. “Where are you going?”
She stood and started back toward the front of the restaurant. She could hear her father calling her name, but she didn’t turn around. She didn’t look back, fingers trembling as she stepped outside into the frozen city.