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“A whole week off?” Fuyumi raises an eyebrow when she sees her youngest brother at the genkan. “Did they say why?”
Shouto shrugs, toeing off his shoes and setting them neatly aside. “They said it was to reinforce the security around the dorms.”
“And they can’t let you be there for that?” she questions as she follows him into the kitchen, where Natsuo and Touya are already preparing dinner.
He shakes his head. “They don’t want to risk something happening while they rework the security.”
“Who’s reworking security?” Touya asks, peeking up from the vegetables he’s chopping. “What is Shou doing at home? Don’t you have to get permission for that?”
“Apparently they get the week off now,” Fuyumi answers him. “And stop cutting the carrots like that! I swear you’re hopeless in the kitchen.”
“No worse than Shou,” Touya argues back.
“I know how to cook,” Shouto defends himself, earning a laugh from the other three.
Natsuo is the one to break it to him. “Little bro, microwaving instant soba doesn’t count as cooking. Especially when you burn it half the time.”
“I’m learning,” he grumbles, only to be met with more laughter, and he crosses his arms and leaves, deciding not to deal with the taunts from his siblings. “I’m going to my room.”
“Dinner will be ready when dad’s home from work,” Fuyumi calls after him. “I’m sure he’ll be happy you’re home.”
Shouto doesn’t say anything back. He’s missed his family, but after living at the dorms for the past few months, he’s ready for some time to just spend by himself. His class is very… overwhelming. And while he and his father get along well, he knows Enji is going to ask about how his school work and his hero studies are going. And Shouto just wants a few minutes to himself before being around such a large family.
“Long day?”
He jumps when he hears his brother enter his room, completely unprompted. Touya always had loose interpretations of boundaries with him, especially since Shouto joined him and Enji in the training room. Touya was more a guide for Shouto than his father was, Enji taking the opportunity to test Touya’s abilities and push him to become a better hero and mentor.
“I’m fine,” he answers, his attention turning back to unpacking his bag. He didn’t bring much, he had more than enough with what was still at home, but he wanted to show disinterest. He loved his brother, perhaps more than he should love his brother, which made the rest of this uncomfortable. “Shouldn’t you be in the kitchen with the others?”
Touya leans against the wall, closing the door behind him. “Nah, I think I’m fine,” he says in complete disregard of Shouto’s desire for space. “Fuyumi doesn’t like how I cut the vegetables anyway.”
Shouto ignores him, grabbing his futon and laying it out. “Isn’t it a little early for bedtime?” Touya smirks.
“I’m tired,” is all Shouto says. He is, too. He didn’t realize how tired he was until he starts to become impatient while preparing his bedding. He doesn’t normally enjoy napping, but his body is craving it today.
At first Touya considers teasing him more, but the sluggish and clumsy movements have him concerned instead. He knits his brows together as he steps closer to Shouto, placing a hand on the boy’s forehead. “Your quirk is all fucked up, I can’t tell if you’re hot or cold.”
“I’m both,” Shouto tells him flatly. “I’m always both- my quirk isn’t fucked up.”
“No,” Touya shakes his head, all playful tones gone. “Not like normal. Are you sick?”
“I haven’t gotten sick since I was a child,” Shouto protests, pulling away from Touya and laying on the futon, wrapping himself in a blanket. “Go away, I’m just tired.”
He stares down at his brother for a moment longer before complying with the request, door closing quietly behind him. His instinct was to grab a thermometer, but in a house of people with temperature-based quirks they didn’t even bother trying to own a thermometer.
“You okay?” Fuyumi asks when Touya returns to the kitchen with a sigh.
“I think Shouto’s sick,” Touya answers, grabbing an apple and biting into it. “He says he’s fine, but his quirk is going wild.”
“I can check on him later,” Natsuo offers, “but I think mom or dad would know better if he’s sick.”
“He’s sleeping for now,” Touya explains. “Mom should be home in a couple of hours, right? I’ll bring him something to eat, at least.”
“And some water,” Natsuo says, filling up a glass for him. “He’s probably dehydrated. At least if he’s anything like you were in hero school.”
Touya stuck out his tongue but didn’t argue, carrying the water and a small bowl of fruit up to his brother. When he sneaks in Shouto is still asleep, and he places the items down next to his head before leaning over the boy. There was a thin layer of frost over his right side and water dripped down his left side from where ice crystals were melting.
“Shouto… you’re so fucking sick,” Touya sighed, stroking the boy’s hair, warming the frost off of the right side with his quirk. “Dummy.”
He spends the next few hours sitting next to his brother, watching him sleep and melting off whatever ice formed. Shouto didn’t wake when their mother came in, confirming Touya’s suspicions with a simple glance at her son. Enji comes in later with medicine, asking Touya to give it to the boy when he wakes up.
This was normal, at this point. Touya and Shouto had always been close- closer than most brothers. Maybe it was both of their drive to become heroes, maybe it was the way they both shared a destiny, or maybe it was fate that the two were so close. But Touya was there for the boy, regardless.
When Shouto stirs it’s the middle of the night. “I have the next couple of days off,” Touya says before Shouto can even ask. “So don’t feel guilty.”
Shouto coughs, accepting the medicine from Touya and chugging the glass of water. He wipes off his mouth, laying back down. “What time is it?”
“Don’t worry about that,” Touya instructs him. “You need to be resting, okay?”
Shouto sighs, turning on his side and burying himself deeper into the blankets. “Don’t leave?” he whispers after a long moment, a gentle sigh when he feels his brother crawling into the futon next to him.
“Better not get me sick,” Touya taunts him, pressing a gentle kiss on Shouto’s head to help the other sleep. “I’ll kick your ass.”
“I think I’ll be able to kick yours,” Shouto returns gently, managing to get a laugh out of Touya. His eyes flutter shut, soft snoring returning to lull Touya into sleep as well.
Maybe, one day, they’ll tell each other. But for now just laying so close to each other this late at night, they can pretend it’s just because they’re brothers.