Chapter Text
Moonshine filtered through light drapes, illuminating the pale skin of her hands where they rest on marble countertops. The kettle on the stove warms gradually, the water in it soundlessly bubbling, pointedly grey eyes focus on the sky outside the window instead of the flame. Melancholy never suited Rei, she was a doer and a thinker ; she always tried to meet situations with a smile, or a positive attitude. She never the one to back down from a cause if she had strong thoughts on the matter. But not anymore, not after coming to this house. Not after marrying that man. I don’t want to be scared, but I can’t do this anymore. I can’t do this anymore. She twitched, fingers worrying at the gold band that is heavy on her finger. These sort of absent episodes come more often now, accompanied by panic and paranoia.
The training was getting worse; the sessions were more often than before, much harsher than anything that Enji had dared do with their previous 3 children. He’s not going to get better, this situation is not going to get better. Her mind reels with horrors, the bruises on Fuyumi and those god awful burns on Toya before he was disappeared from their home. Thankfully, Natsuo’s quirk was so minor that Enji hadn’t even bothered with him at all. To spare one of her children even the slightest bit of pain was worth all of the questions ( “Why does dad hate me , Mommy? Did I do something wrong? ” ), insecurity, and the tears. When Shouto’s quirk developed, there had been a mixture of relief and horror . Enji had succeeded in creating his perfect combination, and would finally leave Rei alone. But she never wanted to give birth to a child that she knew would experience abuse and pain at the hands of a parent obsessed with winning. Shouto’s such a sensitive boy, he doesn’t deserve this. He should be able to play with his siblings, he should have a happy childhood. Like hell would Enji allow that though.
It always came back to Enji, from the fire to her children’s faces. Everyday it became a little harder to look at them, especially little Shouto’s left side. Every flicker of flame red hair in her peripheral caused a shock of panic to roll down her spine. The man that beat her almost daily had come to assault her again; the man responsible for the flames that created the burns on her hips and wrists had returned home.
Reflexively she peaks over her shoulder as she reaches for her mobile. She wanted to speak to her mother, if only to hear her voicemail. Childish as it may be, a hurt child reaches out for their mother’s comfort in times like these. With thoughts like these, Rei felt like she was going to suffocate, the walls closing in and the air almost too thick to breathe. She knows the number by heart, and can type it with her eyes closed, but her fingers stumble over the keypad as she dials familiar numbers. Her mother picks up after three rings, her voice hushed. “Rei? It’s so late, are you okay?”
“....M-Mom.” she stuttered. “I’m so scared, Mom.”
“Oh Sweetie, what’s going on.” her mom answers, exasperation clear in her voice. “Did you get in a fight with Todoroki-san, again?”
“I feel like I’m splitting in two.” she whimpered. “Mom, I honestly think I’m going crazy, and I don’t think I can take it anymore. Every day, the children seem more and more like that monster .”
There is a small shuffling on her left, but the mounting panic clouds her mind. Her thin shoulders shake under her blouse, and she clings to the phone like it is a lifeline; if she lets go then she will sink deeper and deeper into insanity. It was best to concentrate on her mother’s voice and hope that the episode passes. It usually does, even though tonight was a sleepless night plagued with shadowy smoking figures in the edges of her vision. Her mother’s voice relays shock, and even fear. “Rei…surely it can’t be that bad.”
“It is that bad ! That child’s left side looks so unsightly to me that I just can’t stand even looking at him. It’s Enji, it’s always Enji -- the fear, the pain, the hatred. I don’t think I can raise him, I don’t think I should .” She can taste salt on her tongue as her words leave her in a rush of panic. Her left leg won’t stop shaking. “I feel like hurting him, Mama, and no mother should have thoughts like that.”
The kettle is so close to boiling over, the spout letting out a soft whistle, though Rei doesn’t know how long it’s been that way. She’s lost so much time, anxiety makes the time drag on and pass by in a matter of minutes. Her teeth worry at the thin skin of her bottom lip, breaching the skin due to the tension. Her mom calls out to her, is trying to speak to her but Rei doesn’t hear her. Another sound to her left, shattering the concentration afforded to her mother’s phone call. A small whimper, then a child’s voice drifted through the suddenly whistle of the kettle.
“M-Mommy?”
The flash of red is all she sees in the corner of her eye. It’s Enji, It’s Enji, IT’S ENJI. the thought is a distorted mantra in her mind, dread weighing heavily on her shoulders. She was so tired of being hurt, so tired of letting him beat her and her children. He had broken Fuyumi’s arm in three places, he had said that she’d only be slightly useful for making connections through marriage. She was a child, and he had mentioned selling her as though he was talking about the weather. Her mother’s voice falls away as her phone bounces off the countertop and onto the floor. The kettle burns her palms as she grips it around the middle with both hands. A split second could change her life, a split second could change everything.
Black blurs along the corners of her vision, and there’s someone screaming. It takes her a moment to realize that it’s not her, and it’s not Enji . A small form writhes on the ground in pain, little fingers clutching wet, steaming skin. Her mouth trembles, the kettle dropped from burnt fingers. She whimpers before she screams, hands fisted in snow white curls.
Her mother’s voice screams back. But it offers no comfort to the scared children that hear it.
The detective’s hands are warm, they remind Shouto of his mom’s hands but different. He can feel rough patches along the base of the fingers against the palm of his hand, where his mom’s had just been soft and sometimes clammy. The left side of his face throbs when he wrinkles his nose, and there is an itch that he can’t scratch. The police station smells funny, it makes him want to sneeze but he tries not to. Sudden movements of his face makes him feel bad, and the nurses at the hospital had said it was probably for the best that he didn’t. So he tries to keep his face impassive, even though he’s sad and wants to cry. He wants his mom, but he hasn’t seen her since that night, and he misses her.
Shouto is 5 years old, and he knows the basics of a lot of things. He knows that his quirk is cool and slightly more unique than most. He knows that he wishes that he can play games with his siblings; and for certain he knows that he did not hate his mom. He had told Detective Tsukauchi as much, when they were having their private talk. Thoughts of his mom make him break his silence, quietly asking “Is my mom going to be here?”
The detective winces, but when he smiled it was still warm and nothing like his dad’s angry grimaces. “Sorry, Kiddo, but she’s not. She’s in a hospital for a little while because she’s sad, but the doctors there will make her feel better.”
“Like the nurses did with my eye?”
“Yeah, kinda like that but ald different.”
The way that Shouto nods like he truly understand the implications behind his words really upsets Naomasa. He’s seen a lot of different kids, from kids who bounced off the wall to kids that preferred to read or cling to their mothers; He’s seen children who cower from their parents and have bruises darker than their hair. Shouto was quiet and reserved, and Naomasa had noticed whenever he made a sudden movement toward the boy, he flinched. It makes the detective’s blood boil, his brow furrowing as he thinks of the implication of it all. A hero, one of the country’s best, abusing his kids; abusing his wife and then acting like it was nothing .
Endeavor had only came to the hospital after someone had anonymously tipped him off that the police force would be opening up an child abuse investigation. It wasn’t unlikely that he had someone in the force in his pocket, most heroes had the connections that civilians didn’t. Todoroki Enji had obviously expected that they would look the other way after they had responded to the domestic disturbance and detained his wife. Maybe that would have been true if Naomasa hadn’t been on the investigation, and hadn’t personally heard of and saw the bruises and the burns on both the child and the mother. With pictures of evidence like that, and the right pressure, the child was removed from Enji’s custody immediately. All the detectives needed was testimony from the parties involved, and it would be open and shut; Child Endangerment and Spousal Abuse.
The flame hero had appeared, causing a ruckus when they denied him access to the child. Later on, his agency had paid off the hospital for the scorched hall and equipment that came about after Naomasa had personally informed him that the child wouldn’t be returning to him, and that while Rei’s mother was pressing charges and bringing forth accusations of child and spousal abuse he was to have no contact with any of them. There had been great satisfaction in watching the hero throw a tantrum like a child then storm off. It seems that, after officially meeting the boy, he was much more mature than his father.
He looks down at the boy who seems comfortable with the lapse in conversation, though his little mouth pressed into a fine line. “Penny for your thoughts, Little Man?”
“...” Shouto’s voice is soft. “I miss my mom, and I don’t want to go home with my dad.”
“And you won’t have to, I promise. Your dad is in a lot of trouble because of what he did to you, your mom, and your siblings.”
Shouto’s eye turns to him with wonder, actual child like hope replacing cold indifference. “He won’t be able to hurt mom anymore right, if h-he’s in trouble.”
“Yes. that little private talk we had ? he won’t be able to hurt anyone ever again because of that. Just in case, though, some other people are going to talk with you in a few days. Like they do with the heroes, you know?” The detective smiles at the way the boy’s eye light up. “ Can you do that for me, Little Man?”
“Yeah!”
Naomasa reaches out and ruffles the kid’s two toned hair, blinking back tears that burn the corner of his eye. The boy holding his hand seems much lighter, his feet dragging less and less, his little shoulders held back and walking with some measure of confidence. It reminds him of the way that he’s seen the symbol of peace, All Might, walk into more subdued interviews. Proud, confident, with bravado oozing out of every pore. With Shouto, it’s obviously a child’s imitation; an obvious attempt to banish fear with the summoned presence of his personal hero.
The boy’s bravado falters if only slightly when they enter the room where there are other people he doesn’t immediately recognize. A redheaded woman, his grandmother, and his siblings (minus one) all clustered in a little group, obviously waiting for him. Fuyumi comes to him without a moment's hesitation, wrapping her youngest sibling up in a hug that reminds him so much of his mother that the tears Shouto had banished earlier come back. He usually asks himself, Would All Might cry like a baby ? in times like these but he can’t keep his tears in, and he sobs against the chest of a girl he truly barely knows. He had watched her from afar, but to actually be held by her seemed like some sort of miracle, maybe a dream. The adults in the room stand back and watch, and after a moment more, Natsuo comes forward to ruffle his hair after Fuyumi pulls away.
“Hi Sho-chan! I’m glad that I can finally hug you. I wanted to do that for so long.” Fuyumi sounds nothing like their mother, but Shouto smiles anyway. He doesn’t mind that ,he likes it “Uhm, They said that we would be able to stay together if we wanted to , but I decided to go with Grandma...they’re going to let you pick who you want to go with.”
A full head of snow white hair bows briefly, before lifting again, a small smile on his brother’s face. “I said that I wanted to go to with Ms. Hikiishi, one of Mom’s friends. She lives around here, and Yuuei is pretty close by...”
Shouto looks between the two, the child’s face in open wonder. He knows his grandmother’s face, but not what she’s like. He’s seen pictures, but visiting was never possible because his father never allowed it. He has no rapport with her besides the fact that she was his mom’s mom, but she didn’t help his mom when she needed help. His face scrunches up in thought, his hands clammy. He doesn’t want to leave Fuyumi, but he doesn’t think that he can trust his grandmother. He hesitantly reaches out to take Natsuo’s hand, his face turned down.
Fuyumi only smiles, though; reaching out a soft hand to ruffle his hair. “Don’t worry, it’s okay. We can call each other everyday, and I’ll be able to come down and visit.”
His grandmother steps forward, a small watery smile on her face. “Sho-chan, You were so brave. I just want you to know that, and to know that your mom loves you very much...”
She hesitates, her mouth opening and closing after she trails off, like she was trying to find the words. “I also want to say that I’m sorry, Sho-chan. I should have done more, and helped more.”
Shouto doesn’t reply, instead, turning his face into his brother’s arm. Natsuo doesn’t push him away or scold him, instead moving his arm so that he can tuck the boy against his side. It’s obvious that the youngest Todoroki has nothing to say to Rei’s mother, and no one pushes him on it. His grandmother steps away, her face pressed into a handkerchief, her sobs weak but full of remorse. Many in the room seem somewhat sympathetic at her plight, but there was so much more she could have done, and she just didn’t do it.
The tall redhead steps forward next, and when Shouto gets the confidence to turn to look at them, there’s an inkling of familiarity. Shoulder length red hair, dark eyes, sunglasses pushed up along their forehead like in the pictures that his mom had showed him of her school days. Candid photos of herself with friends, but none with his father. He had asked once if the redhead had been Enji, with the way they had their arms wrapped around each other looking more than a little happy to be in each other’s presence. She had shaken her head no, at the time, had told him it was her best friend. He had simply wondered why his dad and her weren’t as happy as that.
“Hi there, I’m Hikiishi Keiko, people call me Ke-chan” She holds out a hand to him, her smile gentle. It was like his mother’s but more confident, less likely to disappear at a moment's notice. “Can I call you ‘Sho-chan’ as well?”
“....” He nods his head shyly, his face flushing when she smiles at him.
“Well Sho-chan, I hope that we can get along with each other!” She crows, reaching out to ruffle his brother’s hair. “Natsuo was telling me that you liked All Might! Me too, but I kind of like Present Mic more these days.”
Shouto’s eyes light up, leaning forward once the woman begins to talk heroes. “I like All Might best, Present Mic’s really loud….”
“Well sometimes loud is good don’t you think ? You can’t quite rock out without loud being involved.”
His head visibly tilts as he thinks on her words, before nodding. “That’s true. But All Might is stronger.”
“You’re probably not wrong about that. You wanna come talk about it some more with me? You brother won’t tell me his favorite hero, I was hoping you could weasel out of him.” With a wink, Keiko holds her hand out, radiating an aura of patience and warmth. He looks at it, and then back at her. She was nice, and she does know about heroes; If his brother was going to be there, and he’s get to talk and meet up with his sister, then he was happy. It was much more than he had ever had before, and as long as they weren’t going back to that lonely home and his mom would get better; then he was happy.
He places his hand in hers, and those long nails don’t scratch or scrape against him. Instead long fingers gently curl around his and they were just as soft as his mom’s. He’s content to talk with her about heroes, while his brother jumps in and out of the conversation; Apparently his favorite hero was Ectoplasm. Shouto files that information away with the rest of the things he knows. Along with his grandma’s number, and his sister’s smell.
Ms. Hikiishi takes them home on the train when they leave the station. Their goodbye to Fuyumi wasn’t much of a tearful goodbye, and more a heartfelt ‘ See you soon ’. Shouto had never ridden on the train before, honestly he had scarce memories of ever leaving the compound. He watches as the buildings pass by in a blur of color and texture with wonder in his eye, his little knees braced against the seat after Keiko had helped him up. Natsuo watches with the same wonder, but much more subdued, one of his hands gripping Keiko’s. He had taken her hand earlier, when they were walking to the train station in a deep conversation about Hero coolness, and hadn’t let go since. When the the train bumps, or slows to a halt, the white haired boy seems to jump, if only slightly. But along the way, the older woman manages to reassure him and to comfort him.
Shouto is especially tired by the time they arrive around the area that Keiko lives. He’s listing on his feet, even though he tries not to show it, he’s ready for a nap. He doesn’t fuss about how he’s a big boy now when Keiko picks him up. He’s exhausted, and his face is throbbing, and he just wants to rest. He loops his arms loosely around her neck, gingerly pushing his face against against her shoulder. He can smell the scent of her perfume from her clothing, fruity and warm like the kitchen in the spring when his mom brings out the oranges, and is comforted. He dozes only lightly as they walk, the streets blurring together but the warmth of the setting sun and the woman’s scent lulling him into peaceful respite. Natsuo smiles at him, still holding the hand that’s holding Shouto. He doesn’t notice much about the apartment building, but he knows that he doesn’t much like the stairs as they climb them. They jolt his face against her shoulder with every step, and it’s not all that pleasant.
As she fumbles with her keys, one arm tucked under Shouto and Natsuo’s gripping the fabric of her pants. Shouto’s sleepy eye rolls around the empty walkway, looking at the sky over the half wall that he could have never seen over if he was on his own two feet. There are many doors on this hallway, with name plates that Shouto can’t read. It seems like a nice place, with the faint din of people coming and going, dogs barking, and the scent of dinner wafting from under doors. As the lock clicks, and Magne ushers in Natsuo first, before entering herself. In the split second before they disappear inside, Shouto sees a flash of green curls and red shoes running past to get back to his own home.