Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Yuzuka splashed water on his face and took a deep breath in, staring at himself in the mirror. White hair hung limply in determined gray eyes, and pale, porcelain skin was stark and white. There was a mole by his ear, and he knew this was a bad idea. He knew this was a very bad idea, but he didn’t care anymore. His period had just started for the first time, and he was not going to just suffer through it. He had ignored the trainer bras, the panties and schoolgirl uniforms. He had ignored everything, but he was fed up. This had gone on for too long, and he wasn’t going to back down.

It was Saturday, and the pad was thick on his nether regions, with a clot in it that made him feel gross and slimy. He had to get it at school, and he knew he needed to text Fuyumi to go get pads, but he could put it off for now.

Straightening out and squaring his shoulders, he turned and made his way down the hall, to where Dad was training the fuck out of Shouto, as per usual. The temperature went up, up, up, the closer Yuzuka got to the doors, and he pushed open the doors to the training room.

“MORE POWER!” Dad rumbled, and Shouto turned up the heat, shooting across the floor and crashing into the training dummy. “Sabuki, get out. ”

Shouto looked up at Yuzuka, and he took a deep breath in.

“I’m cutting off my hair,” he announced, and Dad turned, irritated.

“What?”

“I’m cutting my hair, because I’m a boy,” Yuzuka announced, and Dad stared at him.

“This again? ” he asked in annoyance. “It was cute when you were little, but you’re too old for delusions.”

“It’s not a delusion. I’m a boy, I’m trans, and you’re going to let me get on testosterone, or I’m calling child protective services,” Yuzuka snapped, and Dad’s mouth opened and shut with a click. “The Tokyo HIV/AIDS clinic does gender affirming care, and you’re going to make an appointment and take me there.”

Yuzuka braced, waiting for his father to rant and rave at him, but Dad remained silent. Yuzuka stared him down, and Dad pursed his lips.

“I will call social services,” Yuzuka threatened. They wouldn’t take any of them, but it would ruin Dad’s day, and that was enough for him.

Shouto was staring at Yuzuka openly, and Dad didn’t seem to know what to say. Yuzuka just turned on his heel and walked out, and then Dad hurried after him.

“This is ridiculous, you do not want to be a boy—”

“Yes, I do,” Yuzuka said, and glanced over at him. “And if child services don’t do anything, I’ll slit my own wrists at school, where it won’t stay out of the media.”

He delivered it dispassionately, his tone ice cold, as cold as his quirk, and Dad froze.

“Oh, no, you’re not going to make threats like that,” he said as Yuzuka walked into the kitchen and pulled open the drawers to draw out the scissors. “What the fuck do you think you’re—”

Yuzuka lifted a big chunk of his hair and sawed it off, and Dad’s eyes nearly bugged out of his skull.

“I’ll slit my wrists, ” Yuzuka threatened, his voice a quiet hiss, and chopped off another chunk of hair.

“Put those down right now, ” Dad thundered, and Shouto appeared in the kitchen, his red hair hanging in his eyes. He looked like he needed a haircut, too, but Yuzuka kept sawing away at his hair, letting his hair fall around the floor.

“What, are you going to call the cops on me?” Yuzuka asked mockingly. “That’ll leak, Dad. You’ll have to explain yourself to the masses. You might even go down to number three.”

“Sabuki, knock it off, ” Dad growled and grabbed his wrist, but Yuzuka let ice explode from his skin, sharp spikes stabbing through Dad’s hand. Blood dripped on the floor, and Yuzuka leaned in with crazed eyes.

“You think I won’t do it?” he hissed. “You think I’m not crazy enough? You already took my brother from me. You think I’ll be damned if you take my boyhood from me?”

Blood was slipping down Yuzuka’s wrist, coiling around his elbow, and Dad released him. Blood was dripping all down his hand, from where he was stabbed in the meat of his hand, and Yuzuka grinned at Shouto.

“Enjoying the show?” he asked mockingly, and Shouto paled.

“Sabuki...”

“It’s Yuzuka,” he said dispassionately. “Like I told you. When we were six.”

“What the fuck is going on here?” came Natsuo’s voice from around the corner, and Yuzuka treated his older brother to a lazy grin, the spikes of ice still protruding from his hand.

“I’m cutting my hair!” he called, and Natsuo froze at the sight.

“Jesus, Dad, are you bleeding? ” he asked, and Dad was staring blankly at the blood dripping from his hand. “Sabuki, what the fuck are you doing?”

“It’s Yuzuka,” Yuzuka said, and Natsuo froze.

“Oh. Is it that time?” he asked, and Yuzuka sawed off another thick sheaf of hair.

“Yep,” he said and popped the ‘p’. “I was just explaining to Dad that if he doesn’t let me go on testosterone, I’m going to call child services. And, if that doesn’t work, I’m going to kill myself at school, so it’s going to end up in the media.”

“Yuzuka, what the fuck? ” Natsuo asked and pulled out his phone, dialing what was likely Fuyumi’s number.

“Choose, Dad, ” Yuzuka said mockingly as he sawed off another chunk of long, white hair that was down to his ass nowadays. “Are you gonna bury another son?”

Dad’s eyes snapped back to Yuzuka, and Yuzuka grinned at him as he chopped off more hair. His hair was probably a mess right now, and he knew he was being unhinged, but he could still feel the blood clot pressed up against his body, and it was honestly making him want to kill himself.

“You can call me what you want, misgender me if you want, but you can choose between a living son or a dead daughter,” he said in a singsong voice, and Natsuo’s voice cut through.

“Fuyumi, you need to come home right now, Sabuki’s threatening to kill herself,” he said, and Dad turned and walked out of the room.

Oh, that was how he was going to handle this?

“Dad? DAD!” Natsuo called, but Dad was already gone.

His blood was still on Yuzuka’s arm, but it felt sweet. It felt like victory. He folded.

Chapter Text

Growing up, Sabuki had always been... different. Skinned knees and mud on her socks, she played hard, rougher than the other boys, and wasn’t afraid to punch Touya in the face when he teased her too much. She was rough and tumble, all boy, and Fuyumi should have known something was up when she would longingly sigh and say, “I wish I was like Natsuo.” She was around five when she first started insisting she was a boy. She was about seven when she started crying about it, and eight when she got into fights at school about it.

She had always been all boy.

Rough and tumble, mean and crazy.

Fuyumi had known this was coming ever since she was fifteen and learned what transgender was. That was five years ago. Fuyumi was twenty now, and Sabuki... Yuzuka... was thirteen. She had thought it an odd quirk up until then, nothing to really worry about. She had never been like that, but plenty of girls wished they were boys. It was easier to be a boy.

She had done research since then.

It was not easier to be a boy.

Not like this.

Yuzuka had texted her that his period had started, and she thought this may have something to do with this, so here she was, at the conveinece store near the house, buying thin pads and panty liners and midol, because the first period was always the most brutal. He needed chocolate, too, and his favorite was probably still KitKats, so she threw that in the basket, too, before she paused halfway down the hair care aisle.

Natsuo had told her he just started chopping off his hair. With a pair of kitchen scissors, and she stared at the buzzers lined up in neat little rows. Cautiously, she picked one out, a more expensive one, and then she turned for the counter. The cashier smiled at her and rang up her purchases, and Fuyumi paid with a tap of her credit card. She grabbed the bags and headed out into the cold.

It had been a week since Shouto and Yuzuka turned thirteen. It was the middle of January right now, and she wondered how they were doing. Clearly not well. Shouto was probably traumatized, and Yuzuka was in the middle of a dysphoria induced meltdown. Dad had just walked away, rather than de-escalate, and she wondered why he couldn’t be a fucking hero to his kids the same way he could be to randos on the side of the road.

He never showed up for his fucking children, and she was irrationally angry about it. Seriously, why did he just walk away? Why would he do that? Who the fuck listened to their child threaten their own life and walked out? She was so fucking pissed with him. She was so pissed. He couldn’t fucking parent in a crisis to save his life, and this was a fucking crisis. This was not okay. This was... this was...

She didn’t know what this was. This family was a fucking shitshow, and here she was, yet again cleaning up one of her father’s messes. Yuzuka had threatened his life, and Dad was just... completely disconnected to that. He was completely disconnected, because Yuzuka was not Shouto, and therefore did not matter in the grand scheme of things.

She probably should have called the cops, but Dad would just insist nothing was wrong, and they would have taken his word for it. Then, it would have made it into the news, and then they would be having a whole shitstorm coming onto their heads. Yuzuka wouldn’t even make it to a seventy two hour hold if Dad had anything to say about it. Unless he started screaming his head off in front of the cops and threatened himself in front of them, but...

Yuzuka was calculating. He wouldn’t do that. He would give Dad time to decide, and then he would make his move. There had always been a sort of shrewdness in his gaze, even as it got more unhinged over the years, and she couldn’t deny that. He would calculate his meltdown to where it would hurt the most. He didn’t just stab. He dug in the knife and twisted.

No, calling the cops was pointless. She would have to talk him down herself.

The house was coming up, and she keyed open the gate and let it rumble open. She walked up the long drive and pushed open the door, and took in the silence of the house.

It was deathly silent. There was no movement, no sign of life, and she toed out of her boots and pulled out her phone.

Fuyumi: Where is everyone?

Natsuo: Everyone’s in their rooms. Dad’s in his office. Training was canceled. I have no idea what he’s doing.

Fuyumi wanted to go lay into her dad, but her little brother threatened to kill himself today, so she would focus on him first. If Dad kicked her out, she wouldn’t be able to cut his hair. And his hair was probably a fucking mess right now. He had sawed it off without a mirror and a pair of kitchen scissors.

Fuyumi knocked on his door, and there was a pause before he opened it.

His hair was a fucking mess. Uneven, half of it down his back, the other to his ears. He was grinning, and his eyes were alight with a fire that made her feel vaguely queasy.

“Hi, Fuyumi. Surprised you didn’t call the cops on me,” he said cheerfully, and Fuyumi swallowed.

“Let’s go to the bathroom,” she said and he looked down at the bags.

“Oh, did you bring pads?” he asked, and she nodded.

“Come on, let’s go,” she said and grabbed him by the hand, dragging him into the bathroom. There was a bare tremor in his hand, and her gut clenched. So, he had been scared. Or something. It was probably the adrenaline.

“I cut Dad,” he said, casually, and she frowned.

“What?”

“He grabbed by wrist, so I did that ice over move Natsuo taught me,” he said, airy and light, and she inhaled slowly, because that was assault on a pro, and the dad she knew would have called the cops for that.

“Ah,” she said, and pushed him into the bathroom. Dad probably didn’t want a scandal in the media.

“What’s this?” he asked as he reached into the bag and pulled out the clippers, and she steeled her heart.

“We’re fixing your hair,” she said, and he paused.

“Oh,” he said, and his eyes were watery. “With clippers?”

“Yes,” she confirmed. “With clippers.”

“Can we do a thick mohawk?” he asked, and she nodded.

“We can,” she confirmed, and he took a deep breath in.

“Okay,” he said quietly, and then he started crying. Fuyumi froze, and he looked up at her with tear filled eyes. “I hate this.”

“I know,” she murmured and pulled him in for a hug. “I know.”

“I need to change my pad,” he mumbled, and she nodded.

“You get that done while I set up,” she said, and he took the box of thin pads and pulled down his pants, sitting on the toilet and going pee. She internally winced at the sight of a large blood clot on the thick, diaper-like pad between his legs, because those were always the worst, and then she turned her attention to getting the clippers unboxed. A variety of guards came out, and she held them up. She would use the longest guard for the top, and the shortest guard for the sides. It should come out fine, she thought. She had no idea what she was doing, but it wasn’t like Dad was going to take him to a salon to get it fixed.

“I thought we could go shopping tomorrow,” she said lightly. “For boy clothes.”

His closet had been nothing but ‘boy clothes’ for years now, but she figured they were due a shipping expedition.

“Okay,” he said as he ripped off the pad and rolled it up, just the way she taught him, wrapping it in the wrapper and folding a boatload of toilet paper over it. He neatly deposited it in the trash and put down a fresh pad, and then he wiped and flushed.

“And then we can talk about—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he interrupted, and she took in the sight of the tears still staining his cheeks.

“You threatened to kill yourself,” she said, softly, gently, and he pursed his lips.

“He wouldn’t listen otherwise,” he said, and her heart... broke.

That was really how all of his kids viewed him, wasn’t it? Maybe even Shouto viewed him that way, and she needed to check on Shouto, too. His twin just threatened to kill himself in front of him. And he did what? Went back to his room? He probably had no idea what was going on right now, and Fuyumi didn’t really know how to talk to Shouto, but she needed to check on him nonetheless.

At least Dad hadn’t gone back to training. Small mercies.

There was a knock on the door, and Fuyumi checked to make sure Yuzuka was decent before she slid open the door. Natsuo was standing there, and his eyes swept over the clippers before he slid into the bathroom and sat on the edge of the tub.

“Gonna hang out with us?” Fuyumi asked, and Natsuo nodded, his eyes glued to Yuzuka, like he was worried the boy would start slitting his wrists right there. “Okay.”

She clipped on the longest guard and switched on the clippers, and Yuzuka obediently stood there as she started shaving off his long, beautiful white locks. They dropped to the ground, and she pushed through it, even though she was internally mourning the loss of his hair. It had been gorgeous, but if this was what he wanted, this was what he was going to have.

All three siblings were silent as she buzzed off his hair, and Yuzuka’s eyes were unfocused.

“I got you some midol, in case you’re cramping,” she said, and he swallowed.

“I don’t want to talk about my period,” he said, and she pursed her lips. So, it was as she suspected. That was what started this. She had learned from her exhaustive research that periods were typically a massive trigger for transmascs, but she had never seen it in action like this.

They were all quiet as she shaved his head, and he continued to stare at himself in the mirror. His chest was starting to come in, and she prayed to all that was holy that Dad would let him go on T, because he was flat enough now that he probably wouldn’t have to worry about top surgery if he started now. Dad had better let him do whatever the hell he wanted, because Fuyumi...

Fuyumi couldn’t lose another brother.

She couldn’t.

Chapter Text

Shouto stared blankly at the wall, his red hair hanging lankly in his turquoise eyes. There was a scorch mark on it from when he had a meltdown when he was six. Or a nightmare, he couldn’t remember the specifics. He knew Sabuki was fraying at the seams. He knew that. But, to threaten her own life? Just like that? Like it meant nothing in the face of... of... of getting on testosterone? Why would she go that far? He didn’t understand it. He knew his sister had always been a little unhinged, a little unsteady, but he didn’t think she would go that far.

He didn’t think she would do something like that.

It had to be a bluff, right? It had to be a bluff. He couldn’t... he barely knew her, just like Touya. She couldn’t go away, just like that. She couldn’t. He didn’t understand it, didn’t comprehend it, didn’t... he couldn’t fathom it. She was just throwing a fit because she didn’t get her way, right? Sabuki wouldn’t do something so fucking crazy.

He knew she had always been a little... different. When she was six, she cut off her hair with kitchen scissors, and Mom had cried. That had been just before Mom’s mental health snapped. She never cut it again after that, but she was cutting it now. He could hear the buzz of the clippers in the bathroom. This house had thin walls.

He didn’t understand how she could act like this. Was testosterone really that important? Worth threatening your life over, or did she just want Dad’s attention? Was this just a ploy for attention? She didn’t have to go so far with it. He had no idea what these words even meant. Transition. Testosterone. Of course, he knew what testosterone did, but he didn’t realize it was a medication people could take. They were just throwing around words he didn’t understand now, and he felt desperate and unhinged.

He felt like he was drowning, actually. He truly felt like he was drowning, and he didn’t know what to do. How could she threaten her own life like that? What the fuck was she thinking? She was lucky Dad didn’t call the cops on her. He might still. That was what you were supposed to do, when people threatened their own lives. You were supposed to call the cops.

Maybe he should call the cops, he thought as he looked down at his phone. His hands itched to grab it, but he stilled himself. If he called the cops and Dad didn’t want them called, it would be a whole issue, but fuck, Sabuki had threatened to kill herself, and Fuyumi had just come over to, what? Cut her hair? What the fuck was even going on? He didn’t understand anything that was happening right now.

He didn’t know Sabuki. He didn’t know her favorite food, didn’t know if she had a crush on a boy, or a girl, he didn’t fucking know. He knew ever since she was little, she had said she was a boy, and Dad ignored it, dismissing it as a quirk, but...

But...

People didn’t mean it when they said things like that. He thought she just wanted attention, and that was the only way she knew how to get it.

His hand went up to the burn scar over his eye, and he swallowed. She had been there that night, standing right behind him, and she had tried to ice his eye while Mom screamed and screamed, sobbing on the floor as she tried to apologize to him. That was the closest he had ever been to his twin. She had just silently iced his eye, and Dad had come out and taken Shouto away, and then Mom was gone forever, and she wasn’t coming back.

All because he looked like Touya.

His heart twisted in his chest, and he knew he should do homework, but he couldn’t make himself do it. He should do something more than just... sit here. He should get on Discord or something, but he didn’t want to. Dad didn’t even know he had Discord on his phone. And he couldn’t tell anyone about this, or they would call the cops. There was no one he could talk to about this, and...

How could a girl even be a boy? He didn’t understand. He didn’t think something like that was worth dying over. It seemed to him like his sister was about to go to the loony bin, just like his mother, and he would never see her again.

There was a knock on his door, and he dimly realized the sound of the buzzer had stopped. Fuyumi cracked open the door, and he looked up at her. For a long moment, the two of them just stared at each other, and then she came into the room, closing the door behind her.

“Yuzuka is with Natsuo,” she said quietly. “He’s going to sleep in his room tonight.”

“Why are you calling her that?” Shouto asked in annoyance, and Fuyumi pursed his lips.

“Right. No one has explained this to you yet,” she muttered and blew some of her flyaways out of her eyes. “Okay. So. There’s something called transgender.”

Shouto had never heard the term before, and he was silent.

“It’s not a mental illness, though a lot of mental illness coincides with it, on account of how fucking difficult their lives are,” Fuyumi said, and Shouto listened quietly. “Transgender means you aren’t the gender people decided you were at birth.”

“Okay...” Shouto said slowly, and Fuyumi took a deep breath in.

“It’s part of the LGBT community. That’s what the T stands for,” she explained, and ah, that made more sense. “Trans people aren’t mentally ill just because they’re trans. They simply experience life differently than you do. Yuzuka snapped because he started his period, which causes a lot of dysphoria for people that have uteruses.”

“Dysphoria?” Shouto echoed, and Fuyumi nodded.

“Dysphoria. It’s a condition in which you feel like your body isn’t lining up with what it should be,” she explained. “ That part is mental illness, but even cisgender people like us can have dysphoria. That’s why laser hair removal is so popular.”

Shouto was quiet, contemplative. Okay. So, there were other people like Sabuki. She wasn’t just the one person in the world that lost their damn mind.

“But, Sabuki is mentally ill,” he pointed out. “She threatened to kill herself.”

“Yes, she did,” Fuyumi said slowly, “but he... he just needs a little time, and the ability to transition. That’s all.”

Shouto processed that. So, all of this would be fixed if Sabuki went on testosterone? Okay. He could handle having yet another brother. That was fine, and he wasn’t overly attached to the idea of her being a girl. She had always been shit at being a girl, anyway. Just absolutely dogshit at it, so why not let her just be a boy?

“Why doesn’t Dad want her to be a boy?” he asked, and Fuyumi sucked in a breath.

“I don’t know. There could be a lot of reasons,” she said. “There’s run of the mill transphobia. There’s just... Dad being Dad, resistant to change. There’s the fact that the life of a trans person is really hard. There’s the fact that if the media found out, he would be dragged through the mud no matter what choice he makes, and he needs to figure out which political leaning he wants to side with to keep him in number two.”

Shouto processed that for a moment.

“It’s probably the last one,” he muttered under his breath, and Fuyumi smiled tightly.

“It probably is,” she agreed. “He’ll be ripped apart in the media regardless of what choice he makes, and he probably resents him for not being cis, or not keeping it to himself until he turns eighteen.”

Shouto hated this. He actually hated this. Sabuki wasn’t mentally ill, except she was, and she was willing to threaten her own life over this ability to transition. Dad wasn’t prepared to deal with something like this. He was only prepared for a life where his children were neat and orderly, only doing what they were supposed to do, but Fuyumi had kicked back first, become a hero, and now Sabuki was becoming a boy. It seemed insane to him, that someone could just change from being a girl to a boy. He didn’t get it, but he supposed he didn’t need to get it.

Fuyumi stood up and walked to the door, and he watched her go with a twist in his gut.

“I’m going to go check on Yuzuka now, okay?” she said quietly. “And then I’m going to talk to Dad.”

Shouto pursed his lips. It would probably end in a screaming argument again, and he was tired and wanted to go to bed. Oh, well. He probably wouldn’t be sleeping, anyway.

Fuyumi quietly exited the room, and Shouto flopped back on his bed and studied his phone. Transgender...

He picked up his phone and googled the term. Well. He wasn’t going to be sleeping tonight, so he might as well read.

.

.

.

.

.

Enji was crunching the math. Either way, he would be ripped apart in the media if it got out. He would be reviled by the right wing if he chose to let her transition, and he would be hated by the left wing if he didn’t even try. Sabuki was putting him in an impossible position right now, and his hand tightened around the bandages he had wrapped around it. The bleeding had slowed and stopped, and he probably needed stitches, but he couldn’t worry about that right now.

The homepage for the HIV/AIDS clinic of Tokyo was right in front of him, and he was staring at it blankly. He knew he was a bad father, for considering this. He knew he should just let her do it, but fuck. Fuck. Couldn’t she wait until she turned eighteen? Why now? She was thirteen.

He had known what she was ever since she was five. He had known. And there had been a slow building dread over several years as he watched her grow. He still remembered that little girl that happily brought him a mudman, which was really just a lump of mud, in her dirty hands, grinning at him with a missing tooth.

Fuck, why couldn’t she just be a tomboy? Why did she have to make it complicated? But... At the same time...

He knew what choice he was going to make, and he hated himself for it. They would probably start her on puberty blockers for a year, mandate therapy, and he wasn’t looking forward to that. He would be taking her out of therapy the second she got the all clear to start testosterone, because he didn’t need to give her more ammunition in defying him. This was... infuriating, and Fuyumi was over, so he had to brace for that, too. He could hear her footsteps in the hall, and when he looked up, the door was opening.

“For once in your life, put your child before your career,” Fuyumi snarled as she entered, and like clockwork, she was mad at him again.

“It’s not that simple, Fuyumi,” he said, and a chill wind blew through his office, sending his papers spiraling and pens rolling across his desk.

“You want to bury another one?” Fuyumi screamed, and he stared her down. “Because, if you tell him no, you’re going to be burying another one.”

“I didn’t give you permission to cut her hair,” he said mildly, and another wind blasted him in the face. “Stop using your quirk on me. You’re not a five year old.”

“Oh, fuck off! ” Fuyumi screeched. “Just for fucking once, choose us! Choose just one of us that isn’t Shouto! ”

“I’m not arguing about this,” Enji said flatly and closed his laptop. “I’m going to bed.”

“Natsuo is having to watch him so he doesn’t fucking kill himself, and you’re going to bed? ” she screamed, and he resolved to call the clinic in the morning.

“Yes. I have calls to make tomorrow,” he said, and her eyes blazed with pure rage.

“You’d better not fucking institutionalize him,” she snarled, and he paused. Years later, and they still blamed him for Rei.

“I’m not going to institutionalize her,” he said brusquely and moved past her. “Go home, Fuyumi.”

“No, I’m staying the night to make sure my baby brother doesn’t fucking off himself, ” she hissed, and Enji rolled his eyes.

“She’s not going to kill herself at home. She very clearly stated that she was going to do it at school,” he said, because Sabuki wasn’t an idiot. She knew how to dig in the knife and twist, and she was patient and thought things through. She was a force to be reckoned with, and—

“That’s all you have to say? This is exactly how you got Touya killed!” Fuyumi screeched, and Enji twitched, physically holding himself back from backhanding her. “ You should be watching her tonight, not Natsuo!”

“Fine,” he said and walked out into the hall, pulling open the door to her room and staring down at her.

Fuyumi gave her a fucking mohawk, because of course she did.

“Get up, you’re sleeping on the couch,” he ordered, and Sabuki stared at him with those unnerving gray eyes of hers that he hated so much nowadays.

“Fine,” Sabuki said and came to her feet. She was going to get kicked out of school with a haircut like that, and he was not looking forward to kicking up a fuss with the principal.

Sabuki grabbed her blanket, baby blanket, and pillow and dragged them out to the living room, throwing them down on the couch before she collapsed with her phone, rolling over to text someone, and Enji stared her down for a moment before he turned for his bedroom to get changed into his pajamas.

Goddammit. Where did all of his kids get the dramatics from?

Chapter Text

Natsuo was not surprised. Yuzuka had always been a little unhinged, a little manic, a little off. He supposed growing up as a girl when you were a boy would do that to you. It seemed like a whole other level of trauma, a trauma he was never going to be able to understand, and he felt for him, really, he did, but he had done too much this time. He cut open Dad’s hand, and while Natsuo was an instigator, even he would never go that far.

He woke to early morning dawn rays falling on his face, way too fucking early in the morning, if you asked him, and he sat up, his blankets pooling around his waist. Yuzuka had threatened to kill himself last night, and his gut was twisting in discomfort at the realization. It didn’t feel like the world needed to keep spinning. It felt like the world needed to stay in place. Give everyone time to pick themselves up off the ground and process.

But, the world didn’t work that way. His stomach growled, and he got up and padded into the kitchen, scratching at his belly before fear curled in his gut. He peered into the living room, where Dad was sleeping in his recliner, and Yuzuka was curled up on the couch, smashed into a small ball that was dangerously close to falling off the couch. For a long moment, he stared at Yuzuka, waiting for his chest to rise and fall, and when it did, he breathed out and turned for the kitchen.

He needed to make breakfast. All of Yuzuka’s favorite things. He liked white peaches, and they had none, so maybe... no, it wasn’t in season. They had some persimmons, though, and he got out the cutting board and carefully started cutting them up, just the way Yuzuka liked to have them, in small, thin slices. The aroma drifted through the room, and he sliced them carefully, arranging the slices on a plate as he tried to quell his rapidly beating heart.

Yuzuka had threatened to kill himself, and Natsuo wanted to be angry with him. He wanted to be furious with him, because hadn’t this family been through enough? His emotional warfare against Dad had always been unhinged and borderline demonic. He had always been like that. He never took anything laying down. When Dad didn’t show up to his commencement ceremony for elementary school, he had stolen Natsuo’s phone and posted about it on Twitter. Natsuo got in trouble for that, too, if he recalled correctly. Yuzuka had never cared if he took anyone else down with him.

He had mellowed out in recent years, but Natsuo should have realized he was just a sea serpent, sleeping under the surface. He should have known something like this would happen.

Fuck, he was only thirteen. That was how old Touya was when he died. It seemed insane that it had been eight years, and nothing had changed. Shouto still trained. Yuzuka, Natsuo, and Fuyumi were still forgotten. Yuzuka trained his quirk in the backyard, but...

He still wanted to be a hero, and Natsuo couldn’t quantify how difficult his life would be as a trans hero. He saw Touya all over him, sometimes. That simmering anger at being forgotten, cast aside, unwanted. That rage at being not enough. Touya had always liked Yuzuka best. They had been like two peas in a pod, ever since Yuzuka was born. It was like Touya had seen what Yuzuka would grow up to be. He would probably be laughing like a hyena right about now. Encouraging Yuzuka to make Dad’s life hell. He was always like that. He didn’t care who got hurt, so long as Dad got what was coming to him.

It was times like these that Natsuo was the worst brother in the world, because he was glad Touya wasn’t here to egg Yuzuka on.

He didn’t need to lose another one, he thought as he finished slicing up the persimmon.

He couldn’t be angry at Yuzuka. This was Dad’s fault. He had ignored Yuzuka’s declarations that he was a boy from a very young age, and it had all culminated into this. This fear in his gut... This was Dad’s fault, not Yuzuka’s. Yuzuka was only thirteen. Everything was big and all consuming when you were thirteen. The rest of his life seemed very, very far away, and he wanted action now.

If Dad didn’t break, Natsuo may just beg Fuyumi to take custody of Yuzuka and let him transition that way.

He knew she wouldn’t manage it. She was twenty years old. No judge would take away Endeavor’s child and give them to a young, twenty-year-old pro with no life experience, no means of caring for a child, when the statistics said she was likely to die before twenty-five, UA grad or not. But, what mattered was that Yuzuka saw that people were willing to fight for him. He needed people that were willing to fight for him, and maybe, that would be enough to convince him to stick around until he was 18 and could transition on his own.

Natsuo set down the sliced persimmon on the table and made his way into the living room, dropping down into a crouch next to Yuzuka and shaking him awake. Yuzuka’s gray eyes blinked open, and Natsuo leaned in to murmur in his ear.

“There’s persimmon in the kitchen for you,” he said, and Yuzuka slowly sat up, his hair in a rats nest. He blinked sleepily before he got up, and when Natsuo looked over, Dad was watching them quietly, an unreadable expression on his face.

The call of food was too much to ignore, and Yuzuka made his way to the dining room and sat down with the plate as Natsuo got up to rinse the rice. He measured it out and started rinsing it out, swishing it around in the pot and rubbing the grains between his fingers. There was the sound of Dad getting out of the recliner and making his way to his bedroom, and Natsuo finished rinsing the rice and filled it up to the line. He set it in the rice cooker and closed it, trying to remember which rice he used before he selected ‘sushi rice’. It was sushi rice, right? He thought it was.

He would make omurice today, he thought as Yuzuka quietly ate the persimmons. It was a bit difficult to make, but he was sure he could pull it off. Omurice was Yuzuka’s favorite dish, and he knew he shouldn’t pamper him, but...

He glanced back at him, and took in the sight of him. His shoulders were bowed, eyes downcast, lacking all life. It was a far cry from how he had appeared last night, all fight, eyes alight with manic glee. He had been absolutely fucking unhinged, but today he was quiet, subdued. Natsuo didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all.

That wasn’t the brother he knew.

Yuzuka had always been a little brother to him, hadn’t he? He had never been much of a little sister, and Natsuo had never really viewed him that way. It was easier to just see him as a little brother, but it was becoming harder and harder in recent months. His hips were filling out, his waist getting skinnier, his shape becoming more of an hourglass. He would probably make a beautiful girl, despite being the spitting image of Dad, but...

Well.

It was fine, Natsuo told himself.

Dad would probably let him go on testosterone. He didn’t want to lose another kid, and everyone knew Yuzuka didn’t make empty threats. He would do it, and Dad wouldn’t be able to look himself in the mirror again. Even so...

Natsuo felt weird and unhinged, he thought as he sat down at the dining table and stole a bite of persimmon. Yuzuka barely reacted, where previously there would have been a protest, and Natsuo’s gut clenched.

Shouto came out of his bedroom, and Yuzuka abruptly got up and pushed past him, heading down the hallway, and Natsuo took in the sight of his second youngest brother. He was older than Yuzuka by about thirty minutes, and he wondered if he viewed him just as his twin, or his little brother.

Shouto looked tired. There were dark circles and lines under his eyes, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. Yeah, Natsuo hadn’t been able to sleep last night, either. Shouto shuffled into the kitchen and stared blankly at the rice cooker, and Natsuo sighed.

“It’s not ready yet. I’m going to make omurice,” he said, and Shouto nodded once, just once, and shuffled back off down the hallway.

Natsuo wondered if Fuyumi was going to tell Mom what Yuzuka had done. Probably not. Mom didn’t need more stress. She would have to be told when Yuzuka started his transition, but...

Yuzuka hadn’t visited Mom in years. He always wondered why, but he never asked. Maybe it was because he was there that night, just behind Shouto, and had to save Shouto’s eye while Mom screamed bloody murder on the ground. He didn’t know. He always wondered if Yuzuka was traumatized from that incident, but he never asked. He probably should ask, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

The rice would take about an hour to cook, and in the meantime, he needed to check on Yuzuka. He made his way to his brother’s bedroom and peeled the door open, but he wasn’t there. Cold fear gripped Natsuo’s heart, and he rushed to the next door, knocking on the bathroom.

“Yeah?” came Yuzuka’s response, and Natsuo breathed out in relief.

“What are you doing?” he asked, and there was a pause.

“... Changing my pad,” came the murmured response, and Natsuo internally cringed. Right. He needed to do that now. Gross.

“Okay,” Natsuo said and turned off down the hall, walking back into the kitchen and leaning on the counter. His hands curled around the edge of it, and frost spread out from his palms as he took a deep, calming breath. There was the sound of a toilet flushing, and water running, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight.

Goddamn. Why did Yuzuka have to do that? This family didn’t need more trauma. It needed a fucking break. Why was it always thirteen? Thirteen, thirteen, thirteen, it was always fucking thirteen. Natsuo had honestly considered killing himself when he turned thirteen, because he didn’t think he had a right to live longer than Touya did, but he didn’t. He didn’t know what Touya would have wanted, but he just...

Natsuo squeezed his eyes shut tight, and tears pricked at them. He took a deep breath in and tried to quell his rapidly beating heart. Yuzuka wasn’t going to kill himself. He was going to survive to eighteen, and he was going to become a pro, and he was going to accomplish everything he put his mind to.

He wasn’t...

He wasn’t going to die. He wasn’t going to die.

Chapter Text

Giggles and snickers were spreading all through the genkan, and Yuzuka ignored them as he put his sneakers in the cubby and slipped on his indoor shoes. Everyone was staring at him, but he was used to that. The mohawk was done up in a pompadour, teased and smoothed to perfection, tickling the back of his neck in a taper that Fuyumi had painstakingly cut into place, and he thought he looked hot, actually. He was wearing Yves Saint Laurent’s La Nuit de l’Homme, and he knew he smelled and looked like a million bucks, despite the skirt swishing around his thighs.

He picked up his backpack and headed into the classroom, sitting down at his desk and pulling out his papers, and Furukawa bumped his desk as he passed him by.

“Nice hair, Todoroki,” he sniggered, and Yuzuka ignored him as he got out his homework to pass up to the front. Furukawa took his seat, and Hasegawa came to a stop at his desk, looking down at him with wide, wide eyes.

“What happened? ” she asked, all false concern, and he smiled at her.

“I chopped it off,” he said, loud enough for the whole class to hear.

“Why would you do something like that? Your hair was so beautiful!” she protested, and he rolled his eyes.

“It was in the way,” he said, and she huffed.

“Well, it couldn’t have been that in the way, you had it pulled back every day, ” she said, high and mighty, and he shrugged.

“It’s hair. It grows back,” he said, and her lower lip wobbled.

“But... How could you get rid of it? It was so pretty...”

“You don’t actually care about my hair,” he said lazily. “You just want to make me look bad in front of class.”

Her eyes sharpened, just for a second, and her lower lip wobbled.

“Did you have a mental breakdown?” she asked, her Bambi doe eyes full of crocodile tears. “Is that why you cut it off?”

“I did, actually,” he said coolly. “Want to see how much worse it can get?”

There was an edge of danger in his tone, and she paused, likely realizing she shouldn’t push him too far. He had always been a pariah at school, ever since Hasegawa decided to make him the butt of the joke instead of in on the joke when he started kicking back on her subtle bullying, so he didn’t really care about tanking his reputation. It was already in the gutter.

The sound of a shutter went off, and his head whipped around. Furukawa giggled as he brought down his phone and presumably sent out a tweet, and oh, more ammunition for Dad to look bad, goodie. Yuzuka was denied social media, parental locks on his phone after that incident when he was ten, so he couldn’t post anything, but if the other students did, then, well. It would definitely make it into the news. Furukawa had a lot of followers.

Excellent. They were just making his job easier. Dad would look like a flaming hypocrite if he ‘let’ Yuzuka cut his hair, but didn’t let him transition. He was the type to go all in, say fuck it, so Yuzuka could use this.

“You didn’t get my good side, Furukawa,” he called lazily. “Do it again.”

“... Huh?” Furukawa asked, and Yuzuka grinned, nice and slow.

“Do it a few more times,” he goaded him. “Take all the pictures you want.”

“You realize I’m posting this to Twitter, right?” Furukawa asked, and Yuzuka snorted.

“And? I don’t have a Twitter. I can’t be cyberbullied if I don’t even have an account,” he said, and Furukawa frowned.

“What thirteen year old doesn’t have Twitter? ” he asked, and Yuzuka rolled out his shoulders.

“The smart one that realizes it rots your brain,” he said airily, because he was not about to admit to parental locks on his phone. “Toxic cesspool.”

“Well, what social media do you have?” Furukawa asked in annoyance, and Yuzuka grinned.

“Not a one,” he said, except Discord, but that was because Dad didn’t know what Discord was. But, he wasn’t going to give him that much ammunition.

“Well, I’m still posting it,” Furukawa said and tapped on his phone, and Yuzuka rolled his eyes and cracked his knuckles.

“Fine, then,” he said, and he wondered when these idiots were going to realize that not only did he have a stronger quirk that could take them out in an instant, he also gave absolutely no shits if they tried to bully him.

“Okay, everyone, sit down,” Miss Bushido said as she entered the class. “Furukawa, put your phone away, class is starting.”

Furukawa obediently put his phone away, and Miss Bushido paused at the front of the class.

“Todoroki,” she said calmly. “What is going on with your hair? ”

Giggles spread across the classroom, and Yuzuka crossed one ankle over the other and crossed his arms.

“Cut it off,” he said dispassionately, and she frowned at him.

“That’s not acceptable. Go to the principal’s,” she said, and he pushed out of his chair. Would his dad transfer him to another school or homeschool him? He didn’t want Yuzuka maiming poor, defenseless Shouto, so he would probably send him to another school. Musutafu Middle didn’t have a dress code, so he would probably go there. Or, his dad would send him off to boarding school and make him someone else’s problem, but no. He didn’t trust Yuzuka enough to do that.

Yuzuka left amid giggles among the students, his head held high, because he felt good, dammit. His hair was finally fucking chopped off, after years of growing it out, and he was doing quite well for himself. Fuyumi had given him a mohawk, and he was happy with the results. Yeah, he would probably go to Musutafu Middle. He was definitely getting expelled today. This was just the straw that broke the camel’s back. The nail that stuck out got hammered down, and all of that. And he definitely stuck out. He was rude, unladylike, and got into fights frequently. He knew he was a menace to his teachers and students alike. Oh, well. He wouldn’t miss this shithole.

Whistling to himself, he stuck his hands in his pockets as he walked down the hallway, past the classes starting. He didn’t care if people mocked him. He was a boy, and he was going to act like it. He had always sucked at being a girl, anyway.

He reached the principal’s office and pushed open the door.

“I’m back, Miss Hirota!” he said cheerfully to the secretary, and she let out a little screech.

“What did you do to your hair? ” she asked in horror, her eyes massive, and he winked at her.

“Cut it off,” he said conspiratorially. “Do you not like it?”

“It doesn’t frame your face well,” she said disapprovingly, and he grinned.

“You think? I think it works really well!” he said, and she sighed.

“Go to the principal’s office,” she said, and he waltzed up to the door and knocked.

“Come in,” Mr. Takeda said inside, and he pushed open the door and leaned on the frame.

“I’m here to get expelled!” he said cheerfully, and Mr. Takeda looked up.

“What did you do to your hair?” he asked bluntly, and Yuzuka grinned.

“I got tired of it and chopped it off!” he said, and Mr. Takeda buried his face in his hands for a long, long moment.

“And I suppose I can’t convince you to get a wig?” he asked into the desk, and Yuzuka’s eyes twinkled.

“Absolutely not!” he said, and Mr. Takeda looked up again, and then back down.

“I’m calling your dad,” he said, and Yuzuka’s eyes sparkled.

“Go right ahead,” he cooed, and Mr. Takeda picked up the phone and scrolled through his computer for a moment, clicking a few times and navigating over to Yuzuka’s emergency contacts. He dialed Dad’s number, and Yuzuka flopped in his seat and crossed his arms. “Endeavor, sir? Yes, it’s about your daughter. Can you come to the school?”

Mr. Takeda eyed Yuzuka, who beamed at him in response, before he rapped his fingers on the desk.

“We’ll just... This is too much, Endeavor. First there were three fights, and I know she wasn’t the aggressor— You and I both know we can’t force her into a wig. You have no control— I’m sorry, Endeavor, sir, but it’s the truth. If you had control over her, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

Oh, that was going to grind Dad’s gears, Yuzuka thought in delight.

“We’re going to have to expel her,” Mr. Takeda said firmly, and Yuzuka craned his neck back to look at the clock on the wall. 8:04am. Not bad. It wasn’t even nine yet, which meant Dad’s coffee hadn’t hit yet. “I understand you’re upset, but this is too much. There is a dress code for a reason, and it’s not going to grow back anytime soon, and she’ll just chop it off again when it does.”

Yuzuka tapped his shoes on the ground, and Mr. Takeda sighed.

“Endeavor, sir, if you could please come to the school to sign some paperwork— I understand you have patrol, but it’ll only take ten minutes.”

Yuzuka waited for him to wrap it up, and Mr. Takeda looked just about ready to faceplant into the desk in frustration.

“Endeavor, sir, your daughter is out of control, and the fault is not on the school,” he said flatly, and oh, Dad was kicking up a fuss? “Fighting with boys, kicking up a fuss with her teachers, being an unholy menace, it’s just not... She does not belong at this school. Your other children were troublesome, but they were never this bad.”

Yuzuka tilted his head to the side, and Mr. Takeda ran his hand through his thinning, graying hair.

“Please just come to the school and sign the paperwork,” he said, and then he hung up. On Dad. Wow, someone was getting fed up with Dad throwing his weight around. “Todoroki.”

“Mhm?”

“You’re expelled.”

“I gathered that, thank you.”

“Go wait out in the office for your dad,” he muttered, and Yuzuka got up and flounced to the door. Dad was going to be pissed. Ha. This was great. He was going to be so fucking mad. Gods, Yuzuka was so sick of this school, filled with useless, simpering sycophants that bowed and scraped to him for being the daughter of the number two pro before they realized he didn’t belong in their high society world. He had always stuck out, and now he was finally free of this school, full of students of politicians and heroes and lawyers and real estate developers. He was getting out, and he couldn’t be more excited for it.

He was getting out.

Chapter Text

Yuzuka looked up as Dad entered in his hero uniform, flames extinguished, looking pissed as hell.

“Ah, Mr. Endeavor,” Miss Hirota said. “Mr. Takeda is waiting for you in his office.”

Dad jerked his head at Yuzuka, and he came to his feet and swung his backpack on his shoulders, following his dad into the office. Dad entered without even bothering to knock, and Mr. Takeda looked up from where he was staring with dead eyes at the computer screen. He turned those tired eyes on the two Todorokis, and then he gestured for them to sit.

“I have the paperwork here,” he said, sounding absolutely exhausted, and set down the paperwork on the desk. Dad bent over and scrawled out his signature, not even bothering to sit, and Mr. Takeda pinched the bridge of his nose, shoving up his glasses in the process.

“Alright,” he said, and then he looked up at Endeavor. “She really is a good kid, just not the right fit for this school.”

Dad glowered at him, and Mr. Takeda sighed and dragged the paperwork back to himself, flipping through it in silence to make sure everything was signed. He nodded and set the paperwork down, and then he rose.

“I’ll walk you two to the genkan,” he said, and Dad snorted.

“That won’t be necessary,” he said bluntly and turned for the door. “Sabuki. Let’s go.”

Yuzuka followed along behind him, and Dad led him outside and down the hall, towards the genkan. They stopped for Yuzuka to change his shoes, and then they were off, walking towards the car in complete silence.

“I suppose you’re pleased with yourself,” Dad bit out, and Yuzuka smiled at him, all sunshine and rainbows.

“I am, yeah,” he said. “If I knew all it would take was a haircut, I would have done it sooner.”

Dad rubbed his eyes, and Yuzuka pulled open the door to the car and slid into the backseat. Dad got behind the driver, and Yuzuka buckled on his seatbelt and dropped his bag between his legs. Dad stared out the window, and the driver adjusted the rearview mirror.

“Where to, Endeavor?” he asked, and Dad sighed.

“Take us home,” he ordered, and the driver nodded and peeled away into the street. They rode in complete silence, and then Dad pulled his phone out of his pocket and started calling someone. Yuzuka’s ears pricked, barely catching it before he put it on speakerphone, and it led him through a menu.

“To hear more information about our Gender Affirmation services, please press five,” came the pleasant voice, and Yuzuka’s heart started to pound in his chest. Dad pressed five, and the phone rang once, twice, three times before someone picked up.

“Tokyo HIV/AIDS Clinic, this is Mitsuko speaking, how may I help you?” came a pleasant voice, and Dad cleared his throat.

“I need to make an appointment for my... son,” he said after a pause. “To start puberty blockers.”

Oh, Dad actually knew what puberty blockers were? Wild.

“Of course. What is your name?”

“Enji Todoroki,” Dad said, and there was a long, pregnant pause.

“Ah. And the patient’s legal name?”

“Sabuki Todoroki,” he said, and then he glanced at Yuzuka. “His preferred name is Yuzuka.”

“Age?” she queried, and he sighed.

“Thirteen,” he grumbled.

“Date of birth?”

“January 11th, xxxx,” he replied, and there was another pause and a clatter of keys.

“And what is his legal sex?”

“Female.”

“And his gender?”

“... Male,” Dad said after a long pause, with a confused glance at Yuzuka, who shrugged.

“Will you be paying with insurance?” she asked, and he grunted.

“Yes.”

“Alright. Can you get out your insurance card for me and read the details I ask of you?”

“I don’t have my insurance card on hand right now,” he bit out, and there was another clatter of keys.

“Alright, that’s fine,” she said, and more clatter of keys. “And you’re only seeking gender affirming care at this time? We also offer mental health services.”

“... He may need to see a psychiatrist,” Dad grunted, and Yuzuka felt a flash of annoyance, but he kept quiet.

“Alright. I will state, with minors, we require one year of puberty blockers in tangent with therapy, at least twelve sessions, to protect us from legal liability,” she said pleasantly. “You understand, of course.”

“... I understand,” he gritted out, and Yuzuka shifted in discomfort, because he didn’t want to go to therapy.

“Alright. So, I can get you in for the initial consultation for puberty blockers, an appointment with a psychiatrist, and an appointment with a therapist,” she said cheerfully. “We can pack it all in one day, if you prefer it that way, or we can spread it out.”

“Alright,” Dad agreed. “When is the soonest you can get him in for all three appointments?”

“Next Tuesday!” she said, and she was entirely too bubbly and bright. “I have an eight o’clock for the gender specialist, a ten o’clock for the psychiatrist, and a one o’clock for the therapist.”

“Alright, pencil him in,” Dad ordered, and there was a clatter of keys.

“Please show up at seven-thirty to fill out the patient paperwork!” she said, and he grunted.

“Alright,” he said, and there was more clattering.

“Alright, I have Yuzuka set for an eight o’clock, ten o’clock, and one o’clock,” she said. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Todoroki?”

“No, that’s it,” he bit out, and there was more clattering of keys.

“Please make sure you bring your insurance card!” she said, and he nodded.

“I will.”

“And a photo ID!”

“Yes.”

“Excellent! Then, we will be seeing Yuzuka next Tuesday!” she said. “Thank you very much, Mr. Todoroki!”

The line went dead, and Dad looked over at Yuzuka. For a long moment, there was complete silence, and then Dad sighed and rubbed at his eyes.

“I know you won’t regret this, but...” he trailed off. “Don’t regret it.”

“I won’t,” Yuzuka promised, and Dad looked back out the window.

The rest of the car ride proceeded in total silence.

Yuzuka kind of liked it that way.

He won.

.

.

.

.

.

“You’re starting at Musutafu Middle on Wednesday,” Dad said in the doorway, and Yuzuka looked up. “Don’t cause trouble in the meantime.”

He was still in his hero uniform, and he was probably heading to work after this, but Yuzuka didn’t mind having the house technically to himself. Shouto was here with the tutor, but that meant nothing. They would be in Shouto’s schoolroom all day, and leave Yuzuka alone.

“Alright!” Yuzuka said cheerfully, and Dad eyed him with trepidation.

“You’re not going to kill yourself while I’m gone, are you?” he asked bluntly, and Yuzuka grinned at him.

“You’ve given me no reason to,” he cooed, and Dad grunted and turned on his heel, heading out the door. Yuzuka was left alone in his room, and he collapsed on his futon and stared at the plaster ceiling. There was a scorch mark on it from gods only knew where, and he wondered who left it there, Dad or Shouto or Touya?

He still lived with Touya’s ghost. They all did, and it was getting worse and worse as the years rolled on. Shouto looked more and more like Touya every day, with his mother’s dainty facial structure, not like Yuzuka, who took after his dad in the looks department. Sure, Touya’s hair turned white, there towards the end, but...

Shouto still looked like him.

Yuzuka hadn’t visited his mother in years. Natsuo and Fuyumi had forgiven her, seeing her as just as much of a victim, but Yuzuka didn’t believe that. After all, she was the one that popped out five kids, got pregnant four times. She was the one that agreed to keep having children after Touya’s failure. She was the one that married Dad in the first place and agreed to be a breeder for him.

No, he didn’t forgive his mother, as pitiful as she was. She had done nothing to stop Touya from going up to Sekoto Peak, day after day, and his eyes, she was just as responsible as Dad was. She lost her damn mind, but he didn’t care. She deserved to lose her mind. Just because she was a passive participant didn’t mean she didn’t have a choice.

With a groan, he rolled to his feet and padded towards the closet. He knew Mom felt sorry, and was paying for her folly, and he would never breathe a word of his twisted up feelings to his siblings, but...

Sorry didn’t bring Touya back.

Yuzuka changed into his workout gear and smoothed on a fresh compression bra, with just enough hold that it made him flat, and headed out the door. He was going to work on his quirk. Shouto couldn’t be the only hero in this family, and Yuzuka fully intended on competing with him. He was going to beat his brother into the ground, and Shouto would be able to do very little about it.

Yuzuka walked out into the backyard, barefoot in the light snow that had fallen, and twisted his ankle. Ice overtook a tree, and he knew he was probably going to kill another tree and get yelled at for it, but he didn’t care. He sent another wave of ice out, his breath frosting in the air before him, and it smashed into the ice he had already sent up, shattering it. He knew ice couldn’t beat out fire, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t going to be fighting Shouto. He just needed to be a better hero than him.

It wasn’t that he resented Shouto. He didn’t. He resented his father, and how would his dad feel when Yuzuka let Shouto take the number one spot before he swept his feet out from underneath him? He would hate it. He would be raging mad, and Yuzuka was going to prove that even though Shouto’s flames were hotter than Dad’s, that meant nothing.

He was going to prove his dad wrong, and that was all that mattered.

“You really should put some shoes on,” Shouto said from the doorway, and Yuzuka looked over at his shoulder at him.

“Shouldn’t you be in class right now?” he snarked, and Shouto pushed off the door and approached him.

“Why are you still training?” Shouto asked bluntly, and Yuzuka turned aside and let out another wave of ice, carving it across the lawn until it formed a wave. Dad would be out here for at least an hour melting all of this, and he would be pissed at Yuzuka. Hapless trees and bushes were caught up in his conquest, and he blew the hair drifting out of his pompadour out of his eyes. “Don’t you know you’ll never catch up to me as a trans hero?”

Yuzuka froze, his heart barely beating, before he turned back to Shouto.

“I can get more arrests than you,” he pointed out, and Shouto slowly tilted his head.

“That won’t be enough,” he said. “You’ll always have to be ten times better for half as much. People will hate you.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Yuzuka said. “Times are changing.”

“And people are staying the same,” Shouto shot back. “Bitter, unwilling to learn, jaded, hating anything that appears to be different.”

“That’s the difference in you and me, Shouto,” Yuzuka said dispassionately. “You see the worst in people.”

“And you don’t?” Shouto asked, and Yuzuka was silent. “You’re never going to get far with that attitude. You may make top ten, but you will never stand as number one. Besides, all of this is pointless. Fuyumi is going to knock Dad out of number two soon enough.”

All of them were heroes to spite their father, except Shouto, who didn’t have a choice, and Yuzuka was sick of it. He wanted better than this.

Why did he want to be a hero, anyway?

Maybe... maybe he just wanted to prove he could do it better than his father could.

Maybe that was it.

He didn’t know.

He was bitter and jaded, and maybe Shouto had a point.

But...

“I’ll still go down in history, regardless,” Yuzuka said and turned aside, his breath frosting in the air. His bare foot twitched, and a glacier overtook the garden, rising up into the air and steaming in the light of the noonday sun.

Ha.

He was going to aim for number one, but even if he didn’t get there... He didn’t care. He would still make his mark in the history books.

Chapter Text

The implant was barely felt under his arm. There were bandages plastering it in place, and he was so relieved. His first menses had already come and go, and he wouldn’t have to deal with another one, if everything went according to plan, but now he was facing the biggest challenge yet: therapy.

The psychiatrist had prescribed him medication to cope with mood swings and assigned him as bipolar 2. He had no idea what that meant, and he didn’t really care, either. What mattered was that he was nearly free. Dad had assigned him to therapy once a month, and he was not looking forward to it, but here he was, sitting in the therapist’s office and twitching despite it all.

This particular therapist also worked on Sundays, so he could see her and not miss school, but he wasn’t happy about it. He didn’t need therapy, he needed to be on testosterone. It seemed insane to him that he had to wait an entire year to start, and he was not happy about it, but at least his breasts wouldn’t develop further, and the menstruation would stop.

“Alright, Yuzuka,” the therapist said with a smile. “Let’s get started. You can call me Yuriko.”

“Hello, Yuriko,” he said, and she crossed her legs and balanced her clipboard on her lap.

“Let’s talk about what brought you in today,” she said warmly. “You’re starting puberty blockers, no?”

“I... Yeah,” he muttered, and she smiled at him.

“You don’t seem excited about it,” she said, and he inhaled.

“I just don’t see why I need to jump through all of these hoops to get testosterone.”

“Well, it can be very expensive to detransition,” she pointed out, and he knew that, but...

“I just... okay,” he muttered, and she tilted her head.

“Why do you feel such a rush to get on testosterone?” she asked, and he pursed his lips.

“If things were more ideal, I would have gotten on puberty blockers at ten,” he pointed out, and she hummed and made a note. “I could be starting T by now.”

“And why didn’t you?”

“I... My dad just thought it was a weird quirk of mine,” he muttered, and she made another note. “He didn’t want to deal with the reality that I wasn’t a tomboy and might be trans. If it gets out, he’ll probably tank in the popularity polls.”

“So, what convinced him?” she asked, and he hesitated, because would he be put in the psych ward for this? They had already gone over the suicide and depression assessment, but...

“I threatened to kill myself,” he said, point blank. “At school, where he couldn’t cover it up.”

She paused, and then she made another note.

“I see,” she murmured. “And he let you transition as a result?”

“Well, I didn’t really give him a choice. He already buried one child,” he muttered, and she tilted her head.

“He did?”

“Touya. When I was six, Touya started a wildfire trying to train his quirk and burned,” he explained, and she made another note. The scratch of her pen on the clipboard was bothering him. “Dad was initially training him to be a hero, but when he found out he had cold resistant skin instead of fire resistant, he stopped. Touya didn’t take that laying down, though, and he kept training anyways.”

She made another note, and then she tilted her head.

“And how do you feel about that?” she asked, and he pursed his lips.

“He learned nothing, and kept training Shouto, so I guess I just—I don’t know. I just view him as an idiot that can’t keep his kids alive.”

“Well, it seems he learned something, seeing as you’re here,” she pointed out, and he was quiet for a moment.

“Maybe,” he muttered. “I think he was mostly just thinking about how his charts would be affected if his son killed himself. An accident is one thing. A suicide is a whole other ball game.”

She made another note, and then she hummed.

“He keeps training Shouto? Who is Shouto?”

“My twin. He has a fire quirk and the right skin,” he said, and looked around at the neat, cozy office. She had a lot of plants in here, a blanket over the couch. “Stronger flames than Dad, so he figured he would stop trying for the quirk he actually wanted and just train Shouto.”

“The quirk he actually wanted?” she echoed.

“Yeah, the quirk he would have gotten if Shouto absorbed me in the womb,” he said. “The half ice, half fire quirk. You know, sometimes I think he’s bitter about me just not giving up and dying in the womb so he could have gotten the perfect quirk.”

She stared at him blankly, and then she took a deep breath in.

“It sounds like you have some resentment about your father. Can I ask a personal question?”

“Sure,” he said, and she leaned forward.

“Does he hurt you?” she asked seriously, and he blinked before he laughed.

“That would imply he cares, ” he said derisively, and she pursed her lips. “No. I’m well fed, have an allowance, go to the best schools, have all my needs met, and he’s never laid a hand on me, no matter how much I act up. It’s kind of frustrating, actually. Sometimes, I wish he would just hit me.”

“Why do you wish that?” she asked, and he pursed his lips and looked out the window.

“I don’t know. Would make it easier to hate him,” he said, and she tilted her head.

“And what about your brother, Shouto? Where does he factor into all of this?”

“He doesn’t hit him, either,” he said dryly. “He trains the shit out of him, four hours a day, after school, but he doesn’t hit him. Just pushes him to be the best, like that somehow means something.”

“You don’t think being the best means anything?” she asked, and he laughed.

“Look at All Might. We know nothing about the man, and it’s not outside the realm of possibility that he has nothing. No friends, no lovers, no children, no nothing. And if he does, he has to keep them completely hidden from the world, a big ole secret,” he said, his voice tinged with bitterness. “He has nothing, and what does the best even mean to a man like that? He probably goes to sleep in an empty bed all the same. Can’t have a sex scandal.”

She was quiet, writing on her clipboard, and he kind of hated that clipboard.

“And look at my dad,” he continued. “Shouto hates him. Fuyumi hates him. Natsuo hates him. His wife is locked up in a psych ward. He’s got no love, and most people don’t even like him, and the people that do love him love him for all of the qualities that make him the worst dad on the planet. What does the best even mean, when you can’t have shit because of it?”

He didn’t want to be the best. He did, but he didn’t. He would take number one briefly, and then he would pass it on. He didn’t want to be at the top forever. He didn’t want a life like his dad, a life like All Might, hollow and empty.

“And what about you? Where do your aspirations factor into this?” she asked, and he was quiet.

“My brother thinks I can’t make number one as a trans man,” he said quietly, bitterly. Shouto was probably right, but he was pissed about it. He didn’t even know why he wanted to be a hero. He would probably hit the number one spot and retire, just to stick it to the old man. Show him how empty a number really was.

“And what do you think?” she asked, and he paused.

“I don’t know. I’m going to try anyway.”

“Why are you going to try, if you think it means nothing?” she asked, and he shrugged.

“Spite. I’ll hold number one for a year and retire,” he said, and she made another note on her clipboard. “Seems fair. Shouto has gotten everything, so I might as well take something for myself, too.”

“Has Shouto gotten everything?” she asked curiously, and he paused.

“Well, he has Dad’s love, and that—” he cut himself off, and then he realized what she was doing. Oh. She was psychoanalyzing him and forcing him to confront his biases, and he wasn’t about to do that. “You know, I don’t like it when you do that.”

“Do what?” she asked, and he frowned at her.

“See my dad in shades of gray, not black and white,” he said. “I don’t like that.”

“Why do you want to see him in black and white?” she asked, and he paused as he thought it over.

“Because the only thing that makes me not want to off myself is living to spite him,” he answered honestly.

“Why do you have such strong feelings?” she asked curiously, and he was quiet.

“Because he got Touya killed, and he deserves to have everything he ever dreamed of fucked over,” he said bluntly. “And my mom deserves bad things, too.”

“Oh? We’re talking about your mother, too?” she asked with intelligence flickering in eyes he didn’t trust.

“Yeah, shit, why not?” he asked and crossed his legs under himself. “Fuyumi and Natsuo see her as a victim, but I see her as complicit.”

“Complicit?” the therapist echoed, and he grunted.

“She didn’t do shit to stop Touya from going to Sekoto Peak, didn’t stop having children after Fuyumi, didn’t tell Dad no outright when he asked for her to commit eugenics with him, just because she wanted children and a comfortable life, and barely put up a token protest to protect Shouto. She didn’t even divorce Dad. I might have respected her if she did once he started training Shouto, but she didn’t. Fuyumi and Natsuo just see a woman living with all of her regrets, but I don’t think I have to forgive her. She honestly pisses me off more than Dad does.”

Yuriko was writing, and he waited for her to finish.

“It sounds like you’re angry your mother failed you,” she said, and he snorted.

“Fuck yeah, I’m angry she failed me. She should have checked herself into inpatient long before it escalated to her pouring boiling water on Shouto’s face. I don’t understand why she gets a pass because she was ‘mentally ill’. She still did it, and she was cracking long before she reached that point, and she knew she was cracking. She was calling Grandma nearly every night to tell her about how Shouto looked just like Touya. She knew she was breaking, and she didn’t get help, and now my brother is permanently disfigured.”

Yuriko nodded and looked up at him.

“And how do you feel your gender figures into all of this?”

He was quiet for a moment, because right, that was what they were here for. He fiddled with his fingers for a minute, and then he leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees.

“I told my dad that he already took my brother from me, and I wouldn’t let him take my boyhood,” he said, and she pursed her lips and made another note. “I feel robbed, honestly. I’ve been saying I was a boy since I was five, and they still put me in skirts. Sure, once I hit ten, Dad stopped caring about what I wore, and stopped backing up the personal shopper when she tried to force me into skirts to make me a ‘little lady’, and then he just gave me his credit card to buy my own clothes, but that was five years I’ll never get back. I’m not going to let him force a permanent change on me I’ve always known I don’t want. ”

“So, you’ve known you were a boy since you were five?” she asked, and he nodded.

“I’ve always been this way, and I don’t know why everyone was so shocked when I threatened to kill myself,” he said derisively. “They should have seen it coming.”

“Well, it was a shocking situation,” she pointed out, and he snorted and looked away.

“It shouldn’t have been,” he muttered darkly, and she pursed her lips and made another note.

“It sounds like your family is very dysfunctional. Do you consider yourself to be the sane one?” she asked curiously, and he laughed.

“Oh, no, I know I’m crazy,” he said. “I take after my mom, I guess. Maybe that’s why I resent her so much.”

“Interesting. Do you want to elaborate on that?” she asked, and he rolled his eyes.

“No,” he said, flat.

“Alright. Let’s shift topics, away from your family,” she said. “How does your dysphoria present for you?”

“Well, every time I look at my little mosquito bites, I want to kill myself,” he said flatly, and she nodded and made another note. “And when I got my period I lost my damn mind.”

“Elaborate on that one,” she said, and he rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t actually plan to threaten to kill myself. I just... the blood came out, and I just snapped,” he said, and then considered it. “I actually felt pretty calm. It was like... I don’t know. I just thought, ‘I’m not going to put up with this shit for another five years’, and then I snapped.”

“You felt calm when you threatened yourself?” she echoed, and he nodded.

“It was like.... clarity, you know? It felt like clarity,” he said. “I realized I’ve been screaming for them to see me as a boy since I was little, and if they weren’t going to do it, then I was going to force them. I knew Dad wouldn’t risk losing another kid, so I took a gamble, and it paid off.”

“So, you would consider you threatening to kill yourself a good thing?”

“Fuck no. I shouldn’t have had to in the first place, but, hey, it got results.”

“Okay,” she said and crossed her legs the other way, and he watched her warily. “I think what we need to work on, besides dealing with the suicidal ideations when your dysphoria is present, is communication methods with your family, namely, your father.”

“Communication methods,” he repeated, flat, disbelieving, and she nodded.

“You feel like you can’t get his attention unless you do something drastic,” she said, and he paused. “This isn’t sustainable. You need to learn how to effectively communicate your needs and express them in a way that doesn’t require threats.”

“That assumes I’m working with a reasonable person. My dad is not a reasonable person,” he said, flat. “It’s his way or the highway.”

“I think you might find after a traumatic experience like his child threatening his own life, he may be more amenable to other methods of communication,” she said dryly, and he crinkled up his nose.

“Probably not,” he said, unamused.

“Well, let’s just try it, no?”

“Sure, but only if I get to say ‘I told you so’ when it doesn’t work,” he said with a shrug. “He’s not traumatized. He’s fine.”

“But, you’re here, aren’t you?” she asked, and he paused again.

Huh.

Maybe.

But, he was pretty sure he was only preserving his place on the charts. His dad’s thoughts were a mystery to him, but... Well.

“I’m only doing this to spite you,” he said, flat, and she shrugged.

“So long as you do it,” she said. “What goals do you want to meet?”

“Like, in terms of communication with him?” he asked, and she nodded. “Well, nothing, really. I got what I wanted: a haircut and puberty blockers. I don’t want anything else out of him.”

“You don’t want him to spend more time with you?” she asked, and he looked at her like she was crazy.

“Why would I want to spend time with the man that got my brother killed?”

She pursed her lips, and he studied her, not sure if she was on his dad’s side, or his side, or if there was even a side in her eyes.

“Alright. We’re running short on time, so let’s wrap this session up here,” she said and reached for her laptop. “Let’s get you scheduled for next month.”

Oh, he was not looking forward to that. Not at all.

Chapter Text

The tension in the house was reaching a boiling point. Shouto had no idea where this tension was coming from, but it was ramping up. He thought everything would go back to normal. He really did, because why wouldn’t it? Sabuki... Yuzuka... had gotten his puberty blockers, just like she wanted. He wanted? Shouto knew you were supposed to ask about the pronouns, but he hadn’t bothered with it, because Yuzuka was always hostile, anyway. Ever since he had turned ten, he seemed to despise Shouto, and Shouto had no idea what he did to deserve that kind of treatment.

Yuzuka had gotten the puberty blocker implant on Tuesday, and it was now Saturday. He was home from school, and Dad was still at work. As per usual, he was absolutely fucking destroying the garden with his training, all out finishing moves in his bare feet that took way too much out of him, and Shouto was watching him, leaning in the doorway as he attacked the poor trees that never did anything to him and were probably going to die, again. They had been replanted seven times now, and Yuzuka didn’t seem to care.

“Your concentration needs work,” Shouto called, unhelpfully, more of a means to break Yuzuka’s concentration than anything else, and Yuzuka’s sweeping, curved attack went wildly off point, slamming into the side of the house and freezing the windows of Fuyumi’s old room shut.

“Do you have anything productive to say, or are you just here to bother me?” Yuzuka asked, and Shouto tilted his head.

“You’re mad about something,” he said, and Yuzuka shook himself, like a pissed off, wet dog.

“No, I’m not,” he bit out, and Shouto pursed his lips.

“You got your puberty blockers. What else do you have to be upset about?” he asked, and Yuzuka took a deep, calming breath in.

“I went to therapy, and it was a lot, and I don’t want to talk about it,” he bit out, and Shouto slowly tilted his head.

“They made you go to therapy?” he asked in surprise, and Yuzuka picked up his towel and dabbed at the sweat on his face.

“It’s mandatory for minors seeking HRT,” he said, and Shouto paused at that. Dad allowed that? What even?

“And Dad let you?” he asked, and Yuzuka glared at him.

“Only once a month,” he bit out, and Shouto tilted his head to the left.

“You need to improve a hell of a lot more if you want to get into UA,” he said, casual, and Yuzuka stiffened up.

“What?” he asked quietly.

“Your aim’s all off and—”

“Do you always have something to say?” Yuzuka asked quietly, and Shouto paused. “You’re not actually trying to help me, so what purpose does this serve?”

“I am trying to help you,” Shouto said quietly, and Yuzuka twitched.

“Really,” he said, flat, and Shouto studied him. There was simmering anger, burning under the surface, and he wondered what had Yuzuka so goddamn upset. Was therapy that bad?

“You’re still my twin,” Shouto said softly, and Yuzuka sucked in a breath.

“Am I?” he asked, and Shouto blinked.

“I mean, we shared a womb, so I think that qualifies us as twins,” he said, and Yuzuka whirled on him, his face twisting in anger.

“If we’re so close, why were you never there? ” he spat out, and Shouto blinked.

“There for what?” he asked, and Yuzuka barked out a harsh laugh.

“Anything! Dad actually listens to you, so why did it have to get to the point of me threatening my own life before someone stuck up for me? ” he demanded, and Shouto blinked. Sure, he knew Yuzuka was saying he was a boy from an early age, but he thought that was just a... weird thing Yuzuka did. He didn’t even know what transgender was until Fuyumi explained it to him.

“I just thought you were weird,” Shouto said bluntly, and Yuzuka blew up on him.

“Just thought I was weird? What the fuck do you know about weird? You were fucking homeschooled!” he screamed, and Shouto bristled, because that wasn’t fair.

“Why are you blaming me for everything Dad did?” he asked, and Yuzuka laughed.

“Well, it’s not like you ever kicked up a fuss,” he said derisively, and that was just patently false.

“Why are you acting like this?” Shouto asked, and Yuzuka turned bright red.

“Maybe because I was suffering for years, and no one in this damn family did anything but cry when I cut my hair until I fucking threatened to kill myself! ” he screamed, and Shouto failed to see how any of this was his fault. “Dad actually listens to you. At literally any point, you could have told him to pay attention to me, and we could have avoided all of this! ”

“Dad doesn’t listen to me,” Shouto said defensively. “I don’t think—”

“Oh, so the golden child doesn’t think he’s the golden child?” Yuzuka asked nastily, and Shouto bristled. “Dad actually gives a shit about your opinion.”

“If Dad gave a shit about my opinion, I wouldn’t be homeschooled and spending four hours out of the day in the damn training room, ” Shouto snarled, and Yuzuka barked out a harsh laugh.

“You can pretend all you want, but at the end of the day, you’re going to be number one, and he’s going to forget about the rest of us,” he said. “Once I leave this house, he’ll be done with me forever, desperately chasing after you for love, and you’re going to give it to him.”

“Why are you blaming me for how Dad acts? ” Shouto demanded, and Yuzuka rolled his eyes.

“Maybe because you go belly up for his approval,” he said snidely, and that was a step too far.

“You have no idea what goes on in that training room and what I go through,” Shouto hissed, and Yuzuka laughed again. It was a mean, nasty laugh.

“I don’t? I sleep right next to it, you think I don’t hear? More fire, Shouto, faster, Shouto, do more, Shouto, and you never complain, you just do it, like a pretty, perfect doll for him to play with,” he snapped. “One of these days, you’re going to realize you’re nothing but a prize winning pig to him, and you’re going to have the audacity to be hurt when you did the tricks and played dead the whole time for his approval.”

Shouto’s temper frayed and snapped.

“I’m sorry Dad couldn’t love you enough that you think I’m the enemy, but the real world doesn’t work like that!” Shouto snarled, and Yuzuka laughed at him.

“What the fuck do you know about the real world? You haven’t left the house in six weeks,” he said, and something about the statement just... set Shouto off.

He reached out, and his hand flickered to life. Fire blasted, and Yuzuka’s eyes widened as he twitched his foot, but it was already too late. Fire blasted Yuzuka in the face, white hot and sparking, and Shouto didn’t even know he could get so hot it turned white, but it was too late to take it back. The stream of fire blew past Yuzuka’s face as ice pitifully rose to block it, but Yuzuka didn’t have combat experience. He didn’t have the speed necessary to keep up, and the fire ripped right past his face and throat, and a scream like Shouto hadn’t heard since he was six years old rose up.

Yuzuka was on the ground, and Shouto hadn’t seen him fall, his hands pressed to his face as he screamed bloody murder, and Shouto rushed forward, his eyes widened in horror. There was a burn, stretching from Yuzuka’s jaw to his throat, clipping his ear, and Shouto fell to his knees next to him.

“No, no, no—” he said and instinctively reached forward to ice it, just the way Yuzuka had for him, all those years ago, but...

But he couldn’t make ice.

He couldn’t make ice, he realized in horror.

He didn’t have his mother’s power, that power that didn’t hurt, didn’t maim, didn’t kill, just like it killed Touya, and the totality of what he had done crashed in on him as the backdoor slammed open and Natsuo came charging out.

“What happened?” Natsuo demanded, and Shouto fell back, his hands shaking as Yuzuka burst into tears of pure pain.

“I... I didn’t mean to—” Shouto said, and Natsuo’s eyes widened in horror.

“Shouto,” he said in a whisper, “what did you do? ”

He just... maimed his twin.

He maimed his twin.

.

.

.

.

.

Fuyumi’s phone started vibrating in her pocket, and she pulled it out and checked it. Natsuo was calling, and she answered it in a huff.

“Nats, I’m on patrol right now— ”

“Shouto burned Yuzuka and I don’t know what to do, he won’t stop crying, it’s so bad, it’s all over his face and throat—” Natsuo babbled, and Fuyumi’s eyes widened in horror.

“Wait, back up, what happened?” she asked, and Natsuo started sobbing.

“Shouto and Sa—Yuzuka got in a fight, and Shouto burned him, and I don’t know what to do, I just called you—”

“Okay, how bad is it?” she asked, because this probably wasn’t a mild burn if Natsuo was crying, and he took a deep, shaky breath in.

“It’s worse than when Mom—Mom—” he choked out, and ice ran through her veins.

“Okay, what you’re going to do is call the driver and have him take you to the ER,” she said, as calm as she possibly could be. “I’ll meet you there.”

“What do I do about Shouto??”

“I don’t know?? Leave him there, I guess, I don’t fucking care, just get him to the ER. ”

“Okay, okay, I’m gonna call the driver—”

“I’ll meet you there, make sure you get the insurance card out of Dad’s study, okay?” she said, and he took in a big gulp of air.

“It’s so bad, fuck, it’s so red, there’s no skin—”

“He’ll be okay, I just need you to get him to the emergency room, ” she said, and he hiccuped.

“Okay, okay, I’m gonna call the driver—”

The line went dead, and Fuyumi did an about face.

“Change of plans, I’m going to the hospital, y’all head back to the agency and fill out the reports,” she said to her sidekicks.

“Yes, Frostbite,” her lead sidekick said, and Fuyumi hurried down to the first bus stop she saw. It would be coming in... five minutes, and it would take about thirty minutes to get to the ER from here. Natsuo would probably call Dad after calling the driver, so she wouldn’t bother with it.

Her phone buzzed with a text, and she checked it and stared in horror at the image there. It was a horrific burn, at least third degree, and what the fuck was Shouto thinking? Why would he do something so horrific? Did Yuzuka attack him or something? What the fuck happened?

She texted Natsuo to just take Shouto with him to the hospital, and he texted back an affirmative as snow began to lightly fall down. Great. That better not delay her bus, she thought darkly. It was the middle of January right now, and it was cold. There was no icing a wound like that. It was going to scar, and scar horrifically. Fuck, what the hell did Shouto do? She had always known his quirk was powerful, but that was...

This was Dad’s fault, she realized. Well, not entirely, because she knew for a fact he had drilled into Shouto’s head to be careful with his fire, but at the same time, Shouto hadn’t been raised around other kids in a way that taught him to be careful with it before it got strong enough to do that. He hadn’t learned hard lessons from little first and second degree burns, blisters and tears. He had never learned the proper way, because Dad had completely isolated him from his twin, who could have taught him to be careful in the school of hard knocks.

This wasn’t entirely Shouto’s fault. He had only been raised around Dad, who was literally fireproof, with no other interactions for years on end except in passing with his siblings. He should have learned to be careful through tussles with Yuzuka and schoolyard scuffles.

God dammit.

Chapter Text

Natsuo sat with his head in his hands in the hallway. Shouto’s eyes were wide and unseeing, staring at the wall, and Natsuo... Did not know what to do.

He knew something like this would happen at some point. Shouto practically only interacted with Dad on a daily basis. He had absolutely no fucking social skills, and a lot of anger, and he was going to take it out on someone. And that someone just happened to be Yuzuka. Natsuo had no fucking clue what happened, but...

“What happened?” he asked, and Shouto was quiet.

“He was just yelling at me,” he said quietly, and Natsuo nodded a few times. “He was angry and pissed, and I just... I don’t know what happened. He said a lot of... things.”

“What kind of things that justified this? ” Natsuo asked derisively, and Shouto was quiet.

“He said Dad listens to me,” he said, and Natsuo sucked in a breath. Yeah, yeah, that would do it. That would fucking do it.

“Okay. So, you just snapped?” he asked, and Shouto paused before he nodded. “Jesus fucking Christ, Shouto, you can’t lose your temper like that.”

“I didn’t... mean to,” Shouto said quietly, and Natsuo barked out a harsh laugh.

“What, like that makes it better? Thought you stuck out too much with that scar, so someone had to match you?”

It was a cruel thing to say, and Natsuo regretted it the second it came out of his mouth, because Shouto looked like he just put three bullets in his chest. His eyes started to well with tears, and he started to cry.

“He said I was a prize winning pig, and I like the attention Dad gives me,” he sobbed, and Natsuo went still. “I don’t like it. I never asked for this. I want to be normal, like him, but I’m... I’m not, and I just... I didn’t mean to hurt him, I just snapped and—”

He descended into quiet sobs, and Natsuo was very, very still. That was a fucked up thing for Yuzuka to say, but... Whatever he did, say, did not justify this. It did not justify this. Shouto had seriously, seriously fucked up. He had burned Yuzuka, and he knew it was a split second sort of thing, but Yuzuka was going to be permanently scarred for life now.

Of course they were fighting about Dad. This whole damn house revolved around him, and he was absent from it, distant and unreal. He wasn’t a person in this house, he was an artifact of a bygone age. He did nothing, and because of that, he was the source of all of their fucking problems.

The sound of heavy bootsteps came through, and Natsuo looked up just in time for Fuyumi to storm in, her hair in disarray and gray eyes blazing in rage.

“What the fuck happened?” she hissed, and Natsuo pursed his lips.

“They got in an argument, and Shouto snapped,” he said, and she whirled on Shouto.

“And what the fuck did he say to justify this?” she demanded, and Shouto wiped at his eyes.

“He... he just... he kept saying shit, and I just...”

“He said things? Said things? Didn’t attack you or hurt you?”

“N—no,” he stammered, and she inhaled sharply.

“What the fuck— ”

“Excuse me?” came a hesitant voice. “Have any of you called his dad yet? We need him to fill out some paperwork...”

Both Fuyumi and Natsuo exchanged glances, and a long silence stretched out as they slowly realized neither of them called Dad. Fuyumi swore and pulled out her phone, dialing Dad’s number, and Natsuo pursed his lips as Shouto tried to wipe his streaming eyes. It rang once, twice, three times, and then Dad picked up.

“What is it? I’m on patrol right now,” came his garbled voice, and Fuyumi snapped at him.

“Get to the hospital, Shouto attacked Yuzuka,” she said, and then she hung up on him. There was a pause, and then her phone started vibrating, but she declined the call and turned to Shouto. “I’m taking Yuzuka for a week while you think about what you did. ”

Shouto wiped his eyes and hiccuped, and Natsuo’s heart softened a little.

“Hey, he’s clearly sorry—”

“Yuzuka is maimed for life, ” she hissed, and Natsuo fell silent. “And Dad’s going to brush it under the rug, the way he always does, because his golden child can do no wrong, so someone has to separate them.”

Natsuo fell silent, and Fuyumi ran her hand through her hair and turned aside.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” she said and turned to the nurse. “Can we see him?”

“Not if you all are going to fight,” the nurse said stubbornly, and Fuyumi sucked in a breath.

“We won’t fight,” she promised, and the nurse pursed her lips.

“Alright. It’s this way,” she said and turned aside, leading the three of them down the hall. Fuyumi followed along behind, and Natsuo stood. Shouto made to stand, too, but Natsuo pushed him back down gently.

“You stay here,” he said, and Shouto numbly sat back down, his eyes wide and unseeing. “Just... wait for us, okay?”

“Okay,” Shouto said in a bare whisper, and Natsuo turned and walked off down the hall, after Fuyumi and the nurse. Goddamn, this was a mess.

The nurse led them to a room and knocked before she cracked open the door, and there was Yuzuka, wrapped in bandages and staring out the window with dull, dead eyes. Fuyumi came in and sat down, and Natsuo stood at the foot of the bed.

“Hey,” Fuyumi said gently, and Yuzuka looked over at her.

“Hi,” he said, and his voice cracked. “You got here fast.”

“I came as soon as I could,” Fuyumi said. “You’re going to be staying with me for a week, alright?”

“Alright,” he agreed, and she smiled at him.

“You okay?”

“I can’t feel most of it, but the stuff I can feel hurts,” he said, and she nodded a few times.

“He... your nerve endings got burned off,” she explained, and Yuzuka was quiet. “It’ll probably be numb around there now.”

“It was white,” he said quietly, and Fuyumi paused. “I didn’t even know he could do white flames.”

Natsuo was still, because had Shouto’s quirk evolved in the heat of the moment? White flames?

“Well, he always was an overachiever,” Fuyumi muttered, and Yuzuka was quiet.

“I probably antagonized him,” he muttered and looked out the window, and everyone was quiet.

“You called him a prize winning pig,” Natsuo said, and Yuzuka flinched. “What were you even mad about?”

Yuzuka was silent, and Natsuo ran his hand through his hair and pulled lightly at the crown of his head. So, he wasn’t going to talk about it. Fucking fantastic.

“I just don’t understand why none of you took me seriously until I threatened to kill myself,” he said out loud, and Natsuo froze.

Yeah. He had always dismissed it as something quirky about Yuzuka, even after he knew what transgender was, because he didn’t want to consider that one of his siblings might be trans and what that meant for the family. You had to be 100% supportive when you had a trans kid, and Dad was... not that. You had to have a rock solid family dynamic, and they had never had that. Not even once. Natsuo didn’t want to think about it, and so he didn’t.

“I’m sorry,” Fuyumi said quietly, and Yuzuka grinned bitterly.

“Sorry doesn’t fix it, though, does it?” he asked, and there he was again. Mean. Unrepentant and unforgiving. A nasty little bastard, and Natsuo felt a little bit better.

“Well, you’re on puberty blockers now, aren’t you?” Fuyumi asked, and he snorted.

“I should be on testosterone by now,” he said, and yeah, that was true. Natsuo had looked it up, and puberty blockers typically started at ten or eleven. Not thirteen. He had precious little time, and he was not happy about it. Natsuo wouldn’t be happy about it, either.

“Yuzuka...” Fuyumi said, and Yuzuka stubbornly stared out the window.

Natsuo didn’t know what to do. Yuzuka was bitter and angry, and he had every right to be, but... Natsuo thought he was being a little unfair. He was fine, really. So what if they never took him seriously? What were they meant to think? That he would be a lifelong patient, constantly dealing with his gender, constantly living up to an ideal he couldn’t reach? He would have a hell of a time as a pro and public figure. It would come out that he was trans, and then what else would happen?

Yuzuka said nothing else, and Natsuo wasn’t sure if he should comfort him or what. You didn’t really comfort Yuzuka. You just... ignored him when he was in a mood like this, for the most part. Maybe that was a bad idea, but what else were you supposed to do when he was angry like this? Natsuo didn’t know.

With a sigh, Natsuo sat down in the chair, and Fuyumi got up.

“We’re going to go home, pack a bag for you, and then you’re going to stay with me for a week,” she said, and Yuzuka grunted.

“Okay,” he said, and continued to stare out the window. Fuyumi pursed her lips, and then—

“Do you want something to drink? I can get something from the vending machine,” she said, and Natsuo realized he was thirsty.

“Sure,” Yuzuka bit out, and Fuyumi studied him.

“Sweetened green tea?” she asked, and he nodded. “Okay. Natsuo, you want something?”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Can you get me a soda?”

“Coke okay?”

“Mm.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back,” Fuyumi said and walked out of the room, leaving Natsuo and Yuzuka alone. Natsuo studied Yuzuka for a long, long moment before he spoke.

“I didn’t want to consider what your life would look like,” he said, and Yuzuka looked over at him. “You wanted to be a hero so bad, and I didn’t want to think about how the media would treat you, how your peers would treat you. That’s why I ignored it.”

Yuzuka studied him and said nothing. The silence was damning, and it didn’t make Natsuo feel better. His eyes tracked the bandages wrapped around Yuzuka’s face, covering his face and disappearing into his hospital gown, and he reflected bitterly that Yuzuka was going to be scarred now. At least he wouldn’t be a scarred female pro. Things could be worse, he supposed.

“I—” Yuzuka started to say. “I know what kind of life I’m going to have. I don’t need you to worry about it for me.”

“Do you, though?” Natsuo challenged. “Do you really understand what kind of life you’re signing yourself up for? You’re thirteen. You think about immediate gratification, not consequences.”

“I’m not going to live my life in fear,” Yuzuka snapped, and Natsuo fell silent. “I’m not going to be a coward, scared of the big, bad world and what it can do to me. I’m not going to be a fucking pussy. ”

“You think you’re brave now, but what happens when you’re on the sixth consecutive boyfriend or girlfriend that won’t be seen in public with you?” Natsuo challenged. “When you can’t get your legal change because you won’t sterilize yourself? When you’re being ostracized by everyone around you and can’t get on a raid because you’re a trans man that is completely incapable of making yourself palatable to people? When the media is ripping you to shreds for the seventh time that month for having an unfair advantage, for not being perfect? ”

“I’ll deal with it,” Yuzuka bit out, and Natsuo rubbed his eyes.

“Will you?” he asked, and Yuzuka twitched and looked away.

“I don’t need you to tell me what my life is going to look like,” Yuzuka said, and Natsuo pursed his lips.

“I just, fuck, Yu, this is... This is going to be a lifelong commitment, and you’re thirteen.”

“I’ve known since I was five, ” Yuzuka hissed, and Natsuo was silent. “I’ve known and suffered since I was five, and am I really the bad guy here for not wanting my entire existence defined by my suffering?”

Natsuo was quiet, and Yuzuka snorted and looked out the window again.

“Oh,” he said dully. “Dad’s here.”

Natsuo looked out the window, and sure enough, there was Dad, striding up to the hospital with long legged strides, his back straight and his expression thunderous.

Fantastic.

Just. Fucking great.

Chapter Text

Enji had taught Shouto care. He had taught him to be careful, so careful as to not burn. He had taught him to be cautious. He did not understand how something like this could have happened, and what they were even fighting about. They had no reason to fight. Shouto had no cause to even interact with Sabuki, and he didn’t know what was happening in his home when he was there. Why were they fighting? Why would Shouto do something like that? Did Sabuki attack him or something? These were all on his mind as he stomped through the halls of the hospital, looking for room 201, where Sabuki was, and when he pulled open the door...

Sabuki’s lower face was entirely wrapped in bandages, and it was horrifying to see. They disappeared under her shirt. She was sitting up in bed with Natsuo, and he crossed his arms.

“Where’s Shouto?” he rumbled, and Natsuo pursed his lips.

“In the hall,” he said, and Enji looked left, right, and there he was. Sitting against the wall in the hallway, head between his knees, that bright red hair stark and apparent. Enji stormed over to him and braced in the hall.

“What happened?” he asked, and Shouto looked up with dead eyes.

“We got in a fight, and I burned him,” he said, and Enji twitched.

“That’s it? Did she attack you?” he asked, and Shouto shook his head no.

“No,” he muttered, and Enji inhaled sharply.

“I thought I taught you to be careful. That your fire can burn, ” he said, and Shouto winced.

“Oh, don’t blame this on Shouto,” Fuyumi’s voice came from behind him, and he turned, taking in the sight of her. She was still in her hero uniform, that tight neoprene suit he did not approve of and the bomber jacket with the fur lined collar. Her hair was up in a bun, flyways everywhere, and she was glaring at him, like this was somehow his fault. “You’re the one at fault here, not Shouto.”

“I’m sorry, did I burn Sabuki?” he demanded, and she snorted and handed a bottle of tea to Shouto.

“This would have never happened if you fucking socialized him,” she drawled, and Enji bristled. “Think about it. He didn’t grow up with accidental burns on Yuzuka from little tussles in the backyard. He didn’t grow up with physical examples of what his quirk could do. He would have learned to be careful ages before it actually happened, if you weren’t so concerned with him being hurt by one of us.”

“I taught Shouto to be careful, ” he hissed, and she tilted her head.

“Yeah? Then why wasn’t he careful? Clearly, your teaching methods need an adjustment, ” she drawled. “You fucked up, Dad. Shouto is only partially to blame.”

“I am not to blame here!” his voice rose, and there was a shush down the hall from the nurses’ station. He bit back a curse and whirled on Shouto. “How could you burn your sister like this? What the fuck did she even say? ”

“That I was a prize winning pig, Dad,” Shouto snapped and came to his feet. “And you know what? I think I was so mad because she was right. ”

Gripping his bottle of soda in one hand, he turned and stalked off down the hallway, his shoulders tightly coiled and head down. Enji watched him go, baffled that he had the audacity to get mad, and Fuyumi snorted.

“I’m taking Yuzuka for a week,” she said, and Enji’s brows furrowed in disbelief.

“The hell you are.”

“He doesn’t need to come home every day and see Shouto, ” she snapped. “I’m taking him for a week, and I’ll make sure he makes it to school and everything, but I’m taking him.”

Enji realized he didn’t have the energy to fight her on this, and turned on his heel.

“Do what you want,” he sneered, because it wasn’t like he would notice if she was gone, anyways, besides actually having peace in his household for once, and then— “And stop calling her Yuzuka. Her name is Sabuki.”

“You’re going to look real stupid calling him that when he’s three years on T,” she commented, offhand, and he froze as the full ramifications of what having a transgender child meant fell in on him. He stared blankly at the wall, realizing Sabuki would look like... a boy once she started testosterone in a year. She would look like a boy, not a girl, and by the time she hit high school, she would look like any other male student. He... didn’t like that. He didn’t like that at all. He thought he might be feeling unwell, because he thought that if he took another step, he might faint.

Sabuki was going to be a boy, and he would probably be lambasted in the media if it got out he was letting her transition and wasn’t calling her Yuzuka. They would rip him to shreds, and he didn’t... he didn’t think he could take that.

He couldn’t take that.

He was barely breathing, and Fuyumi swept past him, headed for Sabuki’s room, and closed the door behind her. Shouto was gone to who knew where, and he was alone.

He needed to fill out the discharge paperwork.

.

.

.

.

.

It was a silent car ride home. Natsuo was in the backseat, between Shouto and Sabuki, and Sabuki stared out the window the entire time, silent. When they got home, Sabuki immediately went to her room and started packing, and Enji didn’t know what to do. She got all of her things in a backpack, and then she went out on the front porch to wait for Fuyumi to arrive through public transportation.

Enji stepped outside, and a long silence unfurled between the two of them. He didn’t know what to do with his youngest child. She had always been raging, angry. Well, that was a lie. She hadn’t always been like that. She was a happy child until she was ten years old, and then she switched on a dime. She was bitter, angry, seething mad for no reason, and he was... tired.

Natsuo was angry, too, but he kept it closer to his chest, quiet, tired. He was silent, distant, and Sabuki was willing to make her problems the whole world’s problems. Sometimes, he worried how she would turn out. She wanted to be a hero, and he had learned with Fuyumi not to dissuade her from that course of action, but...

He stared down at her. She did not look back at him. Her hair looked ridiculous, and he wondered why she couldn’t just get a normal haircut. Why did she had to do a mohawk? It was down today, light curls, limp and fluffy, freshly washed, and he stared at it for a long, long moment before he spoke.

“Your hair looks ridiculous,” he said, and her eyes crinkled as she grinned.

“So, it did get under your skin,” she said, and he bit back a sigh. Right. Of course she would do that just to get under his skin.

“You need to stop making all your decisions to spite me,” he said. “You have a life you need to live, too.”

She was quiet, and he wondered if she was going to take that to heart.

“I’m too angry with you to ever think about forgiving you,” she said lowly, and he stiffened up. Of course. She was still mad about Touya, and he didn’t know what to do about that, either.

“Why don’t you visit your mother once in a while?” he asked, and she snorted in derision.

“She knows what she did,” she muttered, and he studied her in silence. He had managed to explain to the school her situation, and she was going to be allowed to wear pants to school. Well, he had less explained it and more just told them he was going to let her wear pants, and he wasn’t going to fight her on it, and they better not, either. They were so awed at the fact that he was allowing one of his children attend Musutafu Middle that they didn’t care.

She looked more at home in pants.

He tried to picture her as three years on testosterone, and he just... couldn’t do it. It was a mystery to him, and he was feeling weird and unhinged. She would probably be the spitting image of him, just like Natsuo.

Sabuki reminded him of himself, and it scared him. No, she reminded him of Touya. All wrapped up in anger and derision, willing to do whatever it took to get ahead, bitter and full of hate. He was sure the students at her new school fawned over her, and that would make the situation worse, but...

“You shouldn’t have antagonized him,” he said, and she rolled her eyes.

“Someone has to,” she muttered, and he pursed his lips. He needed to check the cameras more often, but maybe Shouto had learned his lesson about leaving his siblings alone.

“I don’t understand why you’re so angry,” he said stiffly. “And why you’re taking it out on Shouto.”

“Maybe because he’s a convenient target,” she muttered, and he pursed his lips.

“I raised you better than that.”

“ You didn’t raise me at all,” she corrected and stood, picking up her duffel bag as Fuyumi appeared at the end of the drive. “Fuyumi and Natsuo did. Don’t get it twisted.”

Enji breathed out in annoyance, and she headed down the drive.

He watched until she reached Fuyumi, wondering where the hell he went so wrong that this happened, and then he kept watching until they disappeared behind the tall bushes beyond the drive.

With a quiet sigh, he turned inside. Shouto needed to be trained. Heavy steps led him inside, and he toed out of his shoes and walked to Shouto’s room, knocking on the door.

“It’s time to train,” he called, and there was silence from the other side of the room before Shouto opened the door.

“I’m not training today,” he said, flat, and Enji stared down at him in silence.

“Why, because you’re upset? ” he asked derisively, and Shouto blew up.

“Yes, I’m upset!” he screamed, and the force of it left Enji blinking, because when the fuck did Shouto talk to him like that? “I’m stuck with your stupid quirk that hurts people! I’ve got this stupid scar, and now Yuzuka has an equally stupid scar because I couldn’t keep my hands to myself! My brother is trans and wants to be a hero, and I don’t know if it’ll be okay, or if villains will target him specifically because he’s trans, or if he’ll be okay! And all of this is about surpassing All Might, which I don’t even want to do, and All Might doesn’t even care about any of it! He probably wouldn’t even care if he wasn’t number one anymore! He would probably just retire and leave, and it will mean nothing in the end!”

He was screaming, and Enji just stood and stared at him in disbelief. What the fuck was going on in this family? First Sabuki was lashing out, now Shouto, and he just...

“That’s fine, but you still have to train,” Enji said, flat. “I don’t care if you don’t want to be number one. You will be number one regardless.”

“My flames were white when I burned him,” he said faintly, and Enji blinked. White? He didn’t know Shouto could do that— “If I can pull that out of me when I’m mad, how am I supposed to control myself in a fight?”

“You train,” Enji said, flat. “You train so you don’t burn anyone.”

Shouto looked up at him, and a long silence spilled out. Enji stared down at him, and Shouto quietly stepped out into the hall and closed the door. Enji briefly entertained the idea of calling off training tonight, but Shouto needed it now more than ever. He needed to learn to control himself. And they would be using those white flames to do it.

Chapter Text

Yuzuka picked at the omurice listlessly. He had pushed the bandages down around his mouth in order to eat, and they were sticking to the burn. Fuyumi was eating as she read the subtitles on the C-drama playing on the screen, but he didn’t feel like eating. He was starting to feel a little bad about the way he pushed Shouto, but he hadn’t thought he would do that. The pain was still there, burning, and he knew he was going to be scarred for life.

At least it would be a sick scar.

He just wished he got in more desirable circumstances.

With a sigh, he let his head thunk down on the coffee table, and Fuyumi looked over at him.

“Eat something, you’ll feel better,” she said, and he muttered under his breath.

“I don’t want to,” he mumbled, and she frowned at him.

“Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay, I—Fuck,” he swore and sat up. “This entire situation is unhinged. I’m so mad.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Shouto should not have done that.”

“And he’s probably not even going to get consequences for it, fuck, ” he swore, and his phone buzzed on the coffee table. There was a text from Shouto, and he unlocked his phone and stared down at it.

Shouto: I’m sorry.

Another text popped up underneath it.

Shouto: I didn’t mean to.

Yeah, big fucking consolation, Yuzuka thought as he tossed his phone back on the coffee table. Didn’t even get his phone taken away. Of course Dad wasn’t going to ground him, what was he going to ground him from, going outside? He already was a shut in. He didn’t even go to school, had no friends, and Yuzuka was pissed. There was nothing to ground him from, and he needed his phone to call someone if villains attacked the house.

He was barely breathing, he was so mad. There was no possible way to punish Shouto, because his entire life was a punishment. He wouldn’t make friends until UA. He had absolutely no fucking social skills, and the few he had were taught by Mom, who was crazy as hell, anyway. He shoved some omurice in his mouth, and to his absolute disgust, it was good. Of course it was good. It was omurice.

He barely had to chew, only had to eat with a spoon, and he swallowed it down and stared at the screen. He had no idea what was happening. This was some wuxia, maybe, and the plotline of these things was overtly complicated.

His phone buzzed again, and he looked at it.

Shouto: I really didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. I just. I don’t even know what happened. I just snapped.

Yuzuka: You burned the shit out of my face and all you have to say for yourself is ‘I didn’t mean to’?

Shouto: Well, I don’t know what else to say.

Yeah, because he had never been taught how to give a proper apology. He should be groveling right about now, and Yuzuka couldn’t help but think about what Fuyumi had said in the hallway. He heard the whole argument, and he wondered if Dad was at fault here, for isolating Shouto to the degree that he did.

This whole damn family was burning up in anger and resentment, just at a boiling point, ready to snap at each other over the smallest of slights. There was anger in abundance, and he was sick of it. He was so, so sick of it. He wanted better. He wanted better than this.

Would he feel better when he took his trust fund and moved out? He didn’t know. He didn’t really know anything. Would he finally feel like he could get some air, not walking past Touya’s room every day, that shrine of that boy that had died at thirteen years old? He didn’t know, and it was infuriating. Was he just going to be angry his entire life?

He wanted more than this, but he couldn’t bite down the rising rage. He couldn’t fight back against it, couldn’t quell it, and he kind of wanted to cry. Of course he would be permanently scarred, just like Shouto. It just wasn’t fair that Shouto was the only one that carried a scar, was it? It wasn’t fair, so Shouto just had to make it fair. He hadn’t been thinking, but Yuzuka knew in his heart he found it unfair that he looked like Touya and had to suffer for it.

Well, Yuzuka looked like Dad, and now he had to suffer for it, too. Shouto couldn’t burn Dad, so he just got the next best thing.

Yuzuka stared at his phone. He didn’t think he would ever forgive Shouto for this, but at the end of the day, Shouto was his twin, and something ached in his chest when he thought about him. Sometimes, late at night, he imagined a more perfect world where they were at each other’s side, the way they were supposed to be, going to school together, growing up together, staying up late at night together to talk about manga, compare their tastes. He imagined a world where Shouto was at his side, the way he was meant to be, and he just...

It was strange, to miss someone that was right fucking there. Shouto was virtually a stranger to him, and he resented him for it. He resented his dad for it the most, of course, but he couldn’t help but resent Shouto for not being there, because if Shouto had been there, he would have been taken seriously sooner. He knew that for a fact. Shouto would have called him Yuzuka. Shouto would have backed him up when he said he was a boy.

Instead, they were like this, and all of their problems boiled down to Dad.

He cursed himself internally, because he was only mad at Shouto as a token protest. He wasn’t even really mad at him, and that hurt the worst, because he had kind of deserved it, calling Shouto a prize winning pig like that. He had never been able to control his anger, and now he was paying for it, and Shouto was probably just... fucking...

Beating himself up about it. Yuzuka probably would have attacked him if the fight went on much longer, and then he would have deserved it. He had always been nasty barbs wrapped around a wounded heart, like those stupid tattoos of hearts wrapped in thorns. Hurting himself just as much as the person trying to pick him up and free him. The worst part was he wasn’t always like this. He just... snapped, somewhere around ten years old. He got angry, bitter, vengeful. And he didn’t know how to stop it, because he didn’t want to be like this.

He wanted to be better than this.

He didn’t know how, though.

“What are you thinking about so hard, huh?” Fuyumi asked and poked him between the eyes, and he looked down at his omurice.

“I just... I don’t want to be like this,” he said quietly, and Fuyumi was quiet.

“So, change,” she said, and he snorted. “No, I mean it. You don’t have to be this angry, all the time. So, change.”

“I don’t know how to do that,” he said quietly. “I’m just... so mad, all the time, and I don’t know how to stop it.”

“I’m mad, too,” Fuyumi said quietly, and yeah, he knew she was mad, but she was actually productive in her anger, and he didn’t know how she did it. He just lashed out at anyone and everyone that got in his way. She channeled it, used it for something good. That was why she was such a good pro, the number three pro in the country.

“You’re so much better than me, though,” he said quietly, and she smiled at him.

“It just takes time. Maturity,” she said, and he stared at the bright yellow omelet over his chicken rice. “You’ll get the hang of it one day. Just... don’t be so hard on yourself.”

He sighed quietly to himself and scraped his spoon through the rice, picking some up and taking a bite. It tasted like ash.

“I wasn’t fast enough to stop Shouto’s attack,” he muttered, and Fuyumi was quiet for a moment.

“Do you...” she trailed off, and he looked over at her. “Do you want me to train you?”

He stared at her openly, and she looked over at him. A long silence unfurled, and he cleared his throat.

“You want to train me?” he asked, and she nodded.

“I can train you. If you just come to my agency after school every other day, I can get you up to snuff.”

“I...” he said and trailed off. “I can do that.”

“Okay,” she said softly. “Let’s do that, then.”

“What days?” he asked.

“Let’s do Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday,” she said, and he nodded slowly. “And you can train at home on your days off. I’ll check with Natsuo and see if he’s good to cook home alone on those days.”

Right. Natsuo would be doing the majority of the heavy lifting, and they couldn’t just shuck Yuzuka’s responsibilities off on him for it. He needed to cook, too.

“Okay,” Yuzuka agreed quietly, and Fuyumi’s eyes darted to the bandages wrapped around his face. A long silence spilled out, and then she coughed.

“I expect you to train on the days you have off, and start getting up early to use the gym,” she said, and he nodded slowly. “It’ll be good to get in the habit before you start testosterone, anyways.”

“Right,” he said, because he wanted to change his little mosquito bites into pecs, anyway. He wouldn’t be able to do it on just puberty blockers, but in a year, he would start T, and it would be good to start working out now.

“You should respond to Shouto,” she said gently, and he stared down at his phone. “That can be your first step in changing.”

Slowly, he picked up his phone and stared at the messages there. He knew why he’d been so unhinged. All of those pointed questions in therapy... He knew he was in for a big, big change, and he didn’t want to do it. He did not want to do it, but what other choice did he have? He had to do it. He felt raw, vulnerable, and he had heard you got worse before you got better when it came to therapy. He didn’t want to think of what he would look like at his worst.

He just... he was scared. Scared of the future and what it would hold, scared of what he would look like in three, four years. He was scared Dad would change his mind before he got on T, and he was scared that the therapist would declare him not trans. He was scared of a lot of things, and he was really just a little girl, terrified of the big, open world and screaming and lashing out at anything that came close.

He was terrified, and it was an uncomfortable place to be.

Chapter Text

Everyone in the halls was staring at Yuzuka as he walked down, feeling vaguely hunted. The bandages were clinging to his face, and he knew this looked incredibly fucking bad, but what else could he do? He had to go to school. He was used to being stared at, but this was for entirely different reasons than normal. Everyone looked concerned. He didn’t like that.

He headed into the classroom and slumped in his seat by the window, looking out of it and down to the lawn. There were students still milling around, and he was in class early, because Fuyumi’s apartment was in the middle of the city and closer to school than the house, but he still got up at the same time. He felt weird and uncomfortable, looking like this, and Ashido marched right up to his desk and slammed her hands into it.

“Are you okay?” she blurted, and he rolled out his shoulders.

“I’m fine,” he said, and glanced up at her. “Just a burn.”

“How bad is it?” she demanded, and he internally winced.

“Third degree,” he said, and her eyes nearly bugged out of her skull.

“What happened? ” she demanded. “Did your dad do it or something?”

He gave her an incredulous look, because everyone in the class knew his dad was the number two hero, and would never lose his temper like that, but goddamn, didn’t they have a really low opinion of him? Wow.

“No. My brother did it. We got in a fight, and he lost control of his quirk,” he replied, and her eyes widened.

“Wow. Did you get him back?”

“No,” he said, flat, and she looked back at her group of friends, who were all tightly clustered together, staring at Yuzuka with wide, wide eyes. They must have sent her over to ask.

“That’s not normal,” she declared, like he somehow didn’t know. “All of my siblings have some kind of acid quirk, and they would never burn me like that.”

“Well, sometimes shit happens,” he muttered, and she stared at him, clearly mindboggled.

“That’s it? Just shit happens?” she demanded. “You have a third degree burn. ”

“I’m fine,” he gritted out, because he did not want to publicize his family’s issues at a brand new school.

“You need to talk to the teacher!” she insisted, and he huffed out a laugh. Yeah, like someone was going to remove him from Dad’s care. As if. No social worker was going to do that.

“I’m fine,” he muttered for a second time, and she pursed her lips.

“I’m going to tell a teacher,” she said and spun on her heel, marching right out the door, and he watched her go in silence. Yeah, nothing was going to get done, he thought bitterly. Dad was going to be pissed a social worker got called to his house, and probably blame Yuzuka, and that would be the end of it. They weren’t going to take him over his brother burning him, even if there was clear favoritism going on.

His phone buzzed with a text, and he pulled it out.

Shouto: I really am sorry.

He frowned, locked his phone, and slipped it back into his pocket. The boys of the classroom started to filter in after loudly joking in the hall, and he watched them come in with a sort of hollowness in his chest. Even now, on puberty blockers, he still felt like there was a distance between him and cis boys, and he didn’t think he was ever going to overcome that gap. He felt a little sad when he looked at boys, wondering if he was ever going to be them, and it hurt. It hurt a lot, more than he’d like to admit.

With a sigh, he looked back out the window as they circled around Kirishima’s desk like sharks, and he half tuned into the conversation.

“Still obsessed with Crimson Riot, Kirishima?” that one boy, whose name he couldn’t be fucked to remember, so he’d just call him Bully #1, jeered, and Kirishima twitched. “You know, the way you look at him, one would think you’re a gay boy.”

“I’m not gay,” Kirishima said lowly, and all of the boys jeered.

“So if I grabbed you right here, it wouldn’t get you ha—” Bully #1 said, and Yuzuka twitched his foot. Ice skated across the floor, a clear film, and exploded across Bully #1’s lower half, and he froze in place before he turned wide, wide eyes on Yuzuka.

“That’s sexual assault, and you’re probably the gay one,” Yuzuka said dispassionately as he propped his chin in his hand. “Seriously, who grabs other boys’ junk and isn’t a total creep?”

“What the fuck, Todoroki?” Bully #1 swore, and flexed. His muscles ripped his pants, and the ice shattered, and Yuzuka eyed him carefully as he prowled towards the desk and slammed his hands on it. “And what are you, huh? I bet you want to be a boy, wearing pants like that, with your hair like that.”

So, it begins, Yuzuka thought, and he stared him down.

“You really want to do this?” he asked dispassionately and inspected his nails. “You’ll lose.”

“You wanna bet, Todoro—”

Yuzuka twitched his foot, and Bully #1 was completely encased in ice, his eyes wide and unseeing. His muscles bulged, and all of his clothes ripped, leaving him in nothing but his boxers and tattered clothes, and he roared and swung on Yuzuka, but he hit him with another wave of ice. He was now fully flexed, and couldn’t flex anymore, and he was fully stuck, Yuzuka thought with some degree of satisfaction. Without a word, he got up from his seat, and made his way to the door, intending on taking himself to the principal’s office before they could send him. Just in time, too, because the teacher, Miss Imai, came in and froze.

“Todoroki, wha—?”

“I’m already taking myself to the principal’s office,” he said lazily, and Bully #1’s eyes rolled around in the ice. He downsized, but he was still stuck, trying to wriggle his way out of it, but he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

“I’m calling your father,” Miss Imai said, and Yuzuka pulled his phone out of his pocket and waved it.

“Way ahead of you,” he said and scrolled through the contacts for his dad’s name.

Wow. He didn’t even last a full two weeks before he got in a fight. That had to be a new record.

“Someone’s got to melt him out of the ice,” he muttered under his breath, and then he swung out of the door and made his way down the hall as his phone rang. Dad answered.

“Did you get in a fight?” he asked, and Yuzuka grinned.

“You know me so well,” he purred, and Dad sighed.

“What did you do?”

“Some kid was threatening to sexually assault Kirishima to see if he’d get turned on, so I froze him out,” Yuzuka said dispassionately, and Dad was quiet.

“I’ll be right there to melt him out,” he grumbled, and then the line went dead.

Huh. Dad took that well. That was new.

.

.

.

.

.

Enji knew Sabuki could not be controlled, only directed, and he had the gods above to thank that she was inclined in a more heroic direction, because he could not imagine the hellish time he’d have if Sabuki was a bully. She was an unholy menace, in the best and worst of ways, and she didn’t take any form of injustice laying down. She got mean, spiteful, and he knew that, but at the same time, he wished she’d practice a little bit of moderation. Couldn’t she just freeze out a leg or something? When he got the call, it wasn’t even eight am. At least he hadn’t started patrol yet, but good gods, what the fuck was wrong with his kid?

He stared at the mess his kid was made. The poor kid, Yokota, he had learned his name was, was shivering up a storm, stuck in the ice with his eyes moving around, and Enji sighed and blasted the thing with fire. It started to melt, slowly and steadily, steam rising up, water puddling around his boots, and he cut the flames in just enough time for the kid to break the ice and flop on the ground like a dying fish out of water, gasping for air.

“Endeavor,” he croaked, and Enji stared down at him without a hint of sympathy in his eyes. He had no idea what had happened yet, but given Sabuki’s track record, he assumed this was deserved. Without a word, he turned on his heel and marched out of the room, where Sabuki was sitting with her back against the wall, on her phone, scrolling through her phone.

“Let’s go to the principal’s office,” he grumbled, and Sabuki stood up and walked alongside him, still texting on his phone. This was probably going to end up in the news, he thought. It had already circulated on Twitter that Sabuki cut off all her hair, and it was only going to get worse from here. Now it would be all over the news that Sabuki was wearing pants to school, and he would have to make a statement. And call her Yuzuka. Which would be annoying, but manageable.

His phone buzzed with a text, and he checked it. It was a message from Tamura, his PR rep, and he grimaced. Thirty minutes? Really?

It was a screenshot of a tweet from one of the students at the school.

LOL GET HIS ASS TODOROKI!!!! was the caption, and more context had been provided in the following tweet. Lol Yokota was threatening to SA Kirishima and Endeavor’s kid just rolled up and froze his ass out. Ice cold.

Ice... cold? He supposed it was very cold, but he didn’t understand what that meant. In the screenshot, it had already been shared 29,000 times and liked three times as much. He could already see that it was going up, and thank gods Sabuki didn’t have social media, or she would be making an already dangerous situation worse.

He typed the username into his Twitter and scrolled through the mentions of the post, and yeah. Sabuki was visible in the image, coolly sitting in her seat, and did she really take on a strength quirk without even getting up, and there were a lot of comments about how she was wearing pants when she was clearly a girl. Yep. He was going to have to make a statement. Fantastic.

With a groan, he rubbed his hand over his face and looked down at Sabuki, who looked entirely unrepentant.

“You’re going viral on Twitter,” he said, disapproving, and Sabuki shrugged.

“You’ll survive,” she said as they reached the principal’s office, and Yokota dragged himself in behind them, soaking wet and shivering. His parents were already there, looking thunderous, and another set of parents, with a boy sitting in front of the principal with lank black hair and bowed shoulders. That must be Kirishima, Enji thought.

Sabuki threw herself into a seat and crossed her arms, slouching in her seat, and the nervous principal tapped his papers together and cleared his throat.

“Ah, thank you for coming, Endeavor,” he said nervously. “And thank everyone for showing up so promptly.”

Enji grunted as Yokota slunk into the third seat, and stood behind Sabuki, crossing his arms and glowering the principal into submission. The man was nervously sweating as he tidied his papers, and then he cleared his throat.

“So, we’ve heard about all of it from Kirishima already,” he said, and Enji spoke up.

“I didn’t. What exactly happened?”

“Ah... It would seem Yokota, ahem, threatened to grab his... privates to see if he would... become...” the principal trailed off and cringed, and Sabuki tilted back her head to look up at Enji.

“He was trying to prove he was gay,” she said, short, and Enji blinked. Middle schoolers were fucking psychotic, what the fuck.

“And then Todoroki, ahem, froze out his legs, so he used his quirk and attempted to assault Todoroki, but she froze him out again, and then a third time, and then we had to wait for Endeavor to show up to melt him out,” the principal continued, and all assembled parents were dead silent as they processed that before Yokota’s father slapped him upside the head.

“What, are you gay, huh? Trying to grab another kid’s junk like that,” he swore, and yeah, Enji could see exactly where the problem started at home.

“I’m not fucking gay, ” Yokota snapped, and Enji glowered down at him.

“So, just to be clear, my... child... will not be suspended for this, will you?” he asked, and there was a long pause.

“Well, she was the aggressor...” the principal said hesitantly, and Enji stared him down. The color slowly, steadily drained from his face, and he coughed. “But, seeing as it was in defense of another student...”

“And this one,” Enji said and gestured to Yokota. “He will be suspended, yes?”

“Ah, yes, naturally. He threatened to assault another student,” the principal said, and all assembled parents were silent. “Well, if that’s all, I do believe Yokota needs to go warm up. I believe the nurse’s office has spare uniforms for him to wear home and, ah, blankets.”

Right. Enji hadn’t even noticed the boy was in boxers. Why was he in boxers? Actually, that was none of Enji’s business. As long as he didn’t expose himself to Sabuki, he didn’t care. So long as the bully was out of his sight.

“Go back to class and clean up your mess,” he ordered Sabuki. “I have to get a press statement together, since someone decided to go viral on Twitter.”

Gods. Fuck. He wouldn’t say Fuyumi hadn’t been this much of a problem, but she hadn’t been this bad. Jesus fucking Christ.

Chapter Text

Tatsuya Tamura wouldn’t say his job was easy, being Endeavor’s PR rep, but for the most part, Endeavor behaved. He didn’t make extravagant purchases or flaunt his wealth or anything that people didn’t like. For his station, he lived fairly humbly, and he had extensive PR training to at least make him palatable. His personality was unfortunate, and nothing could really be done about that, but overall, he was... Well, he was fine. Not great, but fine.

But... But Sabuki.

Sabuki had already gotten in four fights this year to date, and Tatsuya had to prepare every time for a leak. Endeavor had absolutely no control over her, and now she was transgender. Well, Endeavor had been grumbling about her declaring herself a boy for years. This didn’t exactly come as a surprise, but now it had gotten out that he shaved his head and was wearing pants to school.

Tatsuya didn’t really have any opinions about the transgender community, beyond them being a headache for PR, but the whole world knew Endeavor had two daughters, and one of them was the youngest, and Shouto had already been seen in public a few times, at hero galas, so they knew this was not the male twin. If he was careful, he could work this in his favor. Polls suggested that Endeavor ranked fairly low with the LGBT community, and they were loud on social media, and more and more people were polling in favor of support of the LGBT community. Sure, he had a lot of traditionalists as fans, but traditionalists were not where the buying power was. The LGBT community, though? Immense buying power.

And money made the world go round.

Even so, he was concerned. All Endeavor cared about was overcoming All Might, and this may knock him down in the polls. Tatsuya half wanted to call Frostbite’s PR rep and talk to her, see if she couldn’t do the statement instead while Endeavor stayed quiet. He had never publicly showed support for the LGBT community before, instead remaining carefully apolitical, but with Sabuki being trans...

He could no longer be apolitical, and he had already made the decision to allow her to transition. The deed was done, and Tatsuya was not going to get involved in his parenting decisions. Fuck, why couldn’t Sabuki just behave at school?

That was insane to think. The second she... he... actually came out, it would go viral, and he would be starting testosterone in a year. It would soon be unavoidable, and it was better to get ahead of this now. They couldn’t cry ‘privacy’ with this one, though Tatsuya dearly wanted to. They had to openly state their support of the trans community specifically, and he... didn’t actually want to do that.

He did not want to do that, because Endeavor relied on him to keep him in the number two spot.

He relied on him, and Tatsuya didn’t know which way this would go. He could get fired for this, but he had to make a gamble. Endeavor had already chosen to let Sabuki transition, and sure, merch sales would go up, but merch sales didn’t mean shit to Endeavor. It was a careful balancing act to keep him in the number two slot, and Tatsuya was... terrified, actually.

Even so, he had to make the statement. He had to make the statement, and so here he was, sitting and staring at the computer. Goddamn. Why couldn’t people just mind their fucking business? There was a culture of privacy in Japan, but that went right out the window when someone was other. And Sabuki was the other.

He should get in the habit of calling him Yuzuka. That would be necessary for this PR post.

Slowly, his hands stretched over the keys. He was the lead of the PR department, and he couldn’t trust this to anyone else. He could pass it off to someone else, get them fired if Endeavor got bumped down to number three, but he didn’t...

He couldn’t do that.

He had to take responsibility.

He had to protect his people, and he took a deep breath in.

Endeavor was the number two hero in the whole of Japan, and worldwide, he ranked pretty high, too, though Tatsuya hadn’t checked that in a hot second. There was a certain weight here, because for over twenty years, Endeavor had remained specifically apolitical. But, the tweet now had 70,000 retweets, and it could no longer be ignored. It had been up for an hour, and it was only going to grow from there.

He cracked his knuckles, just to procrastinate. This was going to take every ounce of PR training he possessed.

Hello, everyone.

Be personable. No, that wasn’t Endeavor’s style, and he backspaced it.

This has been a long time coming.

No, still too personable. He needed to... he didn’t know how to phrase this, and he got up and ran his hand through his brown hair as he walked around his office. His email notifications were only going up, and he probably needed to check them. He didn’t want to do this.

He glanced back at Twitter, and then he stared. There were notifications tallying up, and his eyes nearly bugged out of his sockets, because what? Hurriedly, he sat back down at his computer and clicked on the tweet that was doing rounds.

Sabuki is Yuzuka now. I will not be taking more questions on the topic. That is all.

Oh, fuck, of all the things he could have said—

Hurriedly, he typed Frostbite into the search bar, just to see if she retweeted it and made more of a mess of things, and he froze at the statement on her account.

Trans rights are human rights, and Sabuki will now be referred to as Yuzuka. Thanks and love.

He knew for a fact Mino didn’t approve that tweet, and what, were the Todorokis just going fucking rogue now? Immediately, he dialed Endeavor’s number, and it went to voicemail.

“Endeavor,” he said, calmly. “You have hired me for a reason. Please call me back.”

Gods, fuck, it was sort of the okay thing to say. It was sort of there and alright, but he just—fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why did Endeavor tweet that? He was going to draft a tweet! He was going to handle it the right way. Now, if he deleted it, it would look bad, like Endeavor was being controlled by his PR team. He would have to leave it up. He couldn’t undermine him, though he dearly wanted to. Would it have killed him to not look like the statement was forced? If the world found out Yuzuka had threatened to end his own life, they would be completely fucked. They would be beyond fucked. There might even be a child services investigation. This was insane.

He needed to draft a follow up to that, but Endeavor just said he wasn’t going to be taking questions on the matter, so it would definitely look like PR took over if he did that. Fuck, he would just have to send him to a press conference. No, no, he couldn’t do that. Left winging publications wouldn’t want to do a press conference, and right wing publications would ask leading questions to make him slip up. No, he couldn’t do that.

Fuck. Fuck.

He would have to... an event, to distract from the situation. He would have to do an event. Fuck, what was Endeavor thinking? He would...

He didn’t seem like he supported the trans community in that tweet, so Tatsuya would have to manufacture it that his support was clad in iron. Which meant he would need to set up a training with him. He didn’t have any trans people on staff, and he would have to hire one. They had an open vacancy he hadn’t filled yet, so he would hire a trans PR rep, so it didn’t appear to be just lip service, and ask them to prepare a training for Endeavor as their first mission. He would have to get educated about the LGBT community if this was going to work. He couldn’t come to a trans positive event and act like an ignorant, homophobic straight man, staring and judging. He would have to be prepared.

Gods, was he really going to have to do a fucking sensitivity training for Endeavor? Fuck, where had his life gone?

Oh, shit, he was tweeting again. Fuck. Why didn’t he answer the phone, Tatsuya thought as he rushed into his chair and checked the Twitter rampage.

This is a private family matter, and it’s personal to Yuzuka, so I will not be answering any questions on if he’s going to take HRT or any goddamn questions about his genitals or the state of his mental health. It’s no one’s business.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, that was the worst thing he could say—

Contain yourselves, and stop inquiring about the state of my family. Some things are not the business of the public, even when you are a hero, and minor children are included in that. He’s a child. Stop it.

He needed to change the Twitter passwords and kick him out—

No, he would definitely get fired for that, so he picked up his phone and called him again. It went directly to voicemail, and he hurried over to Instagram to check and see if he was live anywhere. There was one livestream, and there he was, standing on the sidewalk and on his phone, and Tatsuya felt sweat break out. He backed out of the live, and tried calling him again. Voicemail, again.

The comments were rolling in, and he scrolled through them as he tried to think of a way to contain this situation. Endeavor never acted like this. What the hell was he doing?

You say she’s a child, but you’re letting your own perverted fantasies run wild about her.

This is sick. What, are you going to put it down? It should be put down.

Why are you suddenly getting political? Do better, Endeavor.

Endeavor posted another tweet, and Tatsuya’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head, because why wasn’t he stopping?

I think the problem is that you all view this as a ‘political’ stance. I don’t view this as a political stance. I’m protecting my child and ensuring his happiness. He’s been miserable for years, and if one thing can change to make things better for him, one thing I can control, then I’m going to control this.

The problem is everyone makes everything political. This is a private decision between healthcare providers, Yuzuka, and myself. There should be NO politics between myself and my child’s medical team. It’s insane that you all seem to assume that YOUR political opinions have any place in a doctor’s office.

Oh, gods, what the fuck? Was he going to post his opposition to the Eugenics Act next? What the fuck?

Actually... the trans community would love him for that. Tatsuya had to think positively. He had to think positively, because if he didn’t, he might actually lose his mind. He might very well fucking lose it.

What the fuck was Endeavor doing? He couldn’t even call Yuzuka by the proper name and he was doing all of this. Was Tatsuya going to have to do a press conference? Or was it time for an interview? Maybe he could give a private, personal interview, one on one with Endeavor...

No, he would never agree to that. He had never done a personal interview before, but...

If he did a private interview, it might just be the straw that broke the camel’s back. He would either move down or up.

Endeavor was trending, and he decided to get away from the stress of babysitting Endeavor’s personal tweets and go check it. He clicked on the topic and scrolled through it.

You know, I kind of didn’t like Endeavor before this. Like, he’s a good pro, but he’s too... perfect. He never gets political, and now he has, and it makes him more... human, somehow? Straight up FORGOT the man was a father.

You can tell Endeavor’s tweets are NOT from PR and it is refreshing.

Lol just saw a live where Endeavor was tweeting from his phone. That’s au natural, baby.

Endeavor said trans rights??? KING????

You know, I didn’t get the Endeavor thirst, but I can kinda get it now. Nothing sexier than a man that’s gonna risk it all to go up to bat for his kid.

Pure, unfiltered Endeavor is a BLESSING. YES KING WE’VE BEEN WAITING TO HEAR FROM YOU!!!

Lol Endeavor is NOT having it with you terfs, god bless. Peace on earth, GET EM KING!!!

Was this... good?

Shit, was this good?

Chapter Text

The report landed in Yori Tao’s inbox at 9am, escalated. She did not like this report. She did not like it at all, because it put her in a very, very delicate situation. You did not casually go up against the number two pro, but when a child showed up with third degree burns from the number two pro’s house, you sucked it up and did your job.

She needed to keep an open mind about this. It stated in the report that it was believed to have been the brother that did it, but it was unclear, because it was from a teacher, not a medical professional, and why the medical professionals hadn’t called CGC was absolutely fucking beyond her. He had been bandaged and taken care of, but maybe they didn’t go to the hospital, she had no idea. They could have cared for it at home and skipped the hospital entirely to cover up the abuse, if it was abuse.

It had been a week since this report was initially made, and she knew from idle Twitter scrolls on downtime that Endeavor was going viral right now for accepting his trans child, Yuzuka, formerly known as Sabuki. Did they have a fight and he felt guilty about burning him, so he allowed him to socially transition? Was that what was going on right now?

She didn’t know, and she was terrified. She did not want to be the one handling this case, but here she was, walking up the long drive of the house, dread pooling in her gut. It was late, and she had to finish up a lot of paperwork regarding another placement before she got here. It was nearly nine pm, and she had gotten to the situation as quickly as she could, but...

She was scared. She did not want to be known as the social worker that took Endeavor’s trans child away. She didn’t consider allowing a child to transition abuse, but... She didn’t know. She had dealt with trans children sparingly, and never once had to take them from a parent that allowed them to transition. Parents that allowed their children to transition were typically among the best parents she had ever seen, but there were a lot of reports falsely filed against them claiming abuse. In this case, there was actual physical evidence of abuse, and that evidence had gone viral. Now that it had died down that Endeavor’s son was trans, people were only starting to realize he was bandaged in the video.

There had been a report against Endeavor once before, she had found in her research before coming here. His wife poured boiling water on the other twin’s face, Shouto, that was his name, and the attending doctor had made a report. The wife had been remanded to the care of a facility, so Shouto hadn’t been taken away, but there were disturbing things going on in this house. She had read that report front to back, and it listed the reason of her pouring the water as a psychotic break brought on by the death of her eldest, Touya.

She didn’t want to remove a child from a family that was already mourning the death of another child. Touya’s death had been an accident, but...

She didn’t want to break this family up if she could help it.

Taking a deep breath, she walked up to the door and knocked, shifting her purse in her grip and looking around. It was a beautiful home, big enough for four children, and she didn’t think she would find evidence of neglect in here.

The door slid open, and there was the third eldest, Natsuo. He had been mentioned in her research, so she assumed this must be him. He had tufts of red hair growing next to his temples, but overall, his hair was white, with flat, gray eyes.

“Hello,” she said pleasantly. He was wearing an apron, and she wondered if he was cooking. “My name is Yori Tao. I’m a social worker. May I come in?”

Natsuo Todoroki stared her down, clear hostility in his eyes, before he stepped to the side.

“Sure,” he said, and she stepped into the genkan and toed out of her sneakers.

“Is Yuzuka around?” she asked, and he grunted.

“Here about the burn?” he asked, and she paused.

“Yes, I am.”

“YUZU!” he hollered down the hall, and a door slid open and shut. She heard dim footsteps in the hall, and then out came Yuzuka Todoroki.

He was a beautiful child, she thought. He would be quite the looker when he got older, with a square jaw and heavy eyebrows, thick and curly white lashes brushing his cheeks. He had a very straight, proud nose, likely inherited from his father, and his pure white hair was cut in a mohawk. He had a downward set mouth, trapped in a perpetual frown, but his lips were full and heavy. He was stunning, but...

Her eyes trailed down to the scar wrapped around the left side of his jaw, curving over his skin and clipping his ear, going down his neck and disappearing into his shirt. Her jaw hardened, and then she forced a smile.

“Hello, Yuzuka,” she said as she fished a business card out of her purse. “My name is Yori Tao. I’m here with the Child Guidance Center.”

“Oh,” he said, just as flat as his brother. “Okay.”

“Do you have a minute to chat?” she asked as she looked around, and he paused before he nodded.

“Sure,” he said and made his way over to her. It registered in her mind that he was in workout clothes, lightly sweaty, and had he been working out?

“Is your father home?” she asked, and Natsuo turned back towards what appeared to be the kitchen.

“Yes. He’s training Shouto,” Yuzuka said, and she paused.

“For heroics?”

“Yes,” he replied, and she made a mental note to look into that. It had been mentioned before in the first report, from when Shouto and Yuzuka were six, that he was training to be a hero.

“Well, let’s chat, and then I’ll have a talk with your dad,” she said, and Yuzuka rolled out his shoulders.

“Fine by me,” he said, and she walked to the couch and sat down.

“Sit with me?” she asked, and Yuzuka sat down. Sweat was rolling down the back of his neck, and she frowned. She must have come at a bad time.

“So, can you tell me the details regarding the burn?” she asked as she pulled her clipboard and a pen out of her large purse, and he frowned.

“I already told Ashido,” he said, and she had no idea who Ashido was, but okay. “I got into an argument with Shouto, he got mad and burned the shit out of me.”

“And where was your father when this happened?” she asked, and he rolled out his shoulders.

“At work,” he replied, dispassionately. “It was just after school. I was training in the backyard, and—”

“Training?” she interjected, and he nodded.

“Yeah. I’m training for UA. Fuyumi just picked up my training, but I was doing it on my own before then,” he said, and she made a note.

“You’re preparing for UA, but your father is only training Shouto?” she asked, and he was quiet for a moment.

“What is it with women and poking at the sore bits,” he muttered under his breath, and she paused.

“Hm?”

“Oh, nothing, it’s just... therapy,” he said blandly, and her eyes lit up.

“So, your father has you in therapy?” she asked, and made another note. Good. That looked very good for Endeavor, tending to his child’s emotional needs.

“Yes,” he replied, and she scrawled that down.

“I have a couple of questions to go through,” she said, and he nodded slowly. “Do you have your own bedroom, or do you share?”

“I have my own bedroom.” Of course he did. This house was huge.

“And do you have a bed?”

“I sleep on a futon. Beds mess up the tatami mats,” he said, and she wrote that down, too.

“Do you get three square meals a day?”

“Yes.”

“And is the fridge always stocked?”

He gave her a weird look, and she realized she was talking to one of the richest kids in Japan right now.

“Yes?” he replied, and she gave him a smile.

“Just bear with me,” she said. “I know some of these questions seem ridiculous, but I have to ask them.”

“Fine,” he said and popped his neck.

“Does your father ever yell at you, demean you, or call you names?”

“No. He would have to care to do that,” he said dryly, and that gave her pause, but she needed to get through these questions.

“Has he ever hit you?”

“Despite my best efforts, no,” he said, and she paused again. What?

“Can you elaborate on that?” she asked, and he grinned at her.

“Dad’s a brick wall. Can’t get under his skin,” he said, and that didn’t answer why he wanted his father to hit him.

“Alright. And you stated this burn was given to you by your brother?” she asked, and he nodded. “Do you feel unsafe living with your brother? Has he burned you before?”

“No, and no. Shouto’s a wuss,” he said. “I said some nasty shit, that was technically true, and he snapped. He won’t do it again. He’s too scared to do something like that.”

She paused, and then she wrote that down.

“Do you mind showing me your room?” she asked, and he got up and jerked his head.

“This way,” he said, and she got up and followed him, padding down the hall in her socked feet. He pulled open a door, and there was a neat, traditional style room. The hamper in the corner was full, with clothes spilling out, and neither the futon nor the blanket was folded. The closet door was open, boasting a colorful array of clothes, and she took in the desk in the corner with a laptop sitting on top of it. So, he had a laptop. No gaming consoles, no TV, but there was a laptop, and it didn’t appear to be broken.

“Alright. Can I see the kitchen?” she asked, feeling a bit better about this situation now that Yuzuka had confirmed that Shouto was the one that burned him, not Endeavor, and he turned down the hall, padding into the kitchen, where Natsuo was at the stove, making curry. She pulled open the fridge and looked in, and it was well stocked, mostly ingredients, not a lot of snacks, but when she looked in the pantry, there were potato chips of varying flavors and a box of custard breads.

Everything was neat and perfect, and she made another note. A door opened in the background, and she looked up just in time to see a boy with fiery, straight red hair hanging in his eyes come in and freeze at the sight of her. His turquoise eyes widened, and he looked between Yuzuka and her.

“Who’s this?” he asked, and Yuzuka popped open a bag of honey chips and hauled himself onto the counter, popping one in his mouth.

“Social worker,” he said, and Shouto, she was assuming the boy was, paled considerably.

“Oh,” he said in a quiet voice. “Is she taking you away?”

He seemed very small in that moment, and Yori knew in an instant that he wouldn’t do it again.

“Probably not,” Yuzuka drawled, and he didn’t seem to resent Shouto, but even if he did, she didn’t think she could take him away for that.

“Hello, Shouto,” she said politely. “How was training?”

He paused, looking between her and Yuzuka, like he didn’t know how to answer, and Natsuo rolled his eyes.

“Don’t talk to him, he’s just going to say it was terrible and go about his day,” he said, and Yori pursed her lips.

“I see,” she said. “Is training normally terrible? Do you get hit or burned?”

“No,” Shouto muttered, like he was annoyed by it, and that was concerning and a half. Yuzuka stared at Shouto, taking another bite of his chip, and it cracked loudly. There was a tension in the air that hadn’t been there before, but she could probably chalk that up to the assault.

“Do you two go to school together?” she asked, and Yuzuka snorted.

“No. He’s homeschooled,” he said, and she blinked. Why was he homeschooled?

“Oh,” she said and made another note. Was that to hide abuse? Or did he simply have a learning disability? “Why is he homeschooled?”

“Dad’s scared someone’s going to attack him and maim him again, ” Yuzuka jeered, grinning at Shouto like a mad dog, and Shouto flinched. She frowned. The trauma of a parent was not a good enough reason to keep a child out of school, but since the School Education Law had been repealed following the dawn of quirks, on account of not being able to track of the sheer amount of children with dangerous quirks, and Shouto had a very dangerous quirk, there was nothing she could do about it. Dammit.

“I see,” she said quietly, and made another note.

Realistically, there were no options for her here. It was clear just from their interactions Yuzuka was more of a bully than Shouto was, though that could be just because Yuzuka was still bitter about getting burned. She could tell just from a glance Shouto was repentant, but she probably needed to speak to him, too.

“Shouto, do you mind if I speak to you?” she asked, and he froze.

“I... would rather not,” he said, his face pale, and she pursed her lips.

“Is there any reason you don’t feel comfortable speaking to me?” she asked, and Yuzuka rolled his eyes.

“He’s got no socialization, and people terrify him,” he said and popped another honey chip into his mouth.

That could very well be true, but Shouto looked a little pale just for social anxiety. The door in the background opened again, and heavy footsteps thudded down the hall. Yori looked up, and the intimidating figure of Endeavor filled the doorway.

He was bigger than he appeared on screen, and on screen, he was already pretty big. Yori felt sweat prick at the back of her neck, because this was the number two pro, but...

“Hello, Mr. Todoroki,” she said, perfectly professional, and fished another business card out of her purse. “My name is Yori Tao. I’m a social worker.”

He stared down at her with angry turquoise eyes, and she stood her ground. She had dealt with all manners of criminals and ne’er-do-wells, and she wasn’t about to be intimidated by a pro.

“What are you doing in my house?” he asked, and she smiled up at him.

“There was a concerned party that raised some questions about the bandages Yuzuka was wearing to school,” she said, and he breathed out. “I’m here to check and see if everything is alright.”

“Shouto has been handled,” he said. “He won’t be burning him again.”

That set off alarm bells in her head, and she smiled tightly.

“Handled?” she echoed, and he twitched.

“We’ve been working on restraint in training,” he said and walked to the fridge to pull out a bottle of water. “Nothing like you’re imagining. We’re working on emotional regulation and controlling adrenaline rushes and being able to think in a cognizant manner through them.”

He took a swallow of water, and she relaxed slightly. Of course. He was the number two pro. He wouldn’t psychologically torture a thirteen year old.

“Alright,” she said as her brain whirred. There was something wrong in this house, but she had been in a lot of houses like this. Where the dynamic was all off, twisted, but there was no actual evidence that she needed to remove a child. So long as nothing illegal was happening, there was nothing she could do about it. The kid would probably be in therapy for the rest of their life, but she... couldn’t do anything.

This felt like that. Where there was something wrong, but she wasn’t going to get any answers out. The dynamic was all off. Why was Endeavor training Shouto, not Yuzuka, who also wanted to be a pro? What was the argument between Shouto and Yuzuka about? She was going to have to do a follow up in about a month, and maybe she could get more information then, but in the meantime...

“Thank you all for your cooperation,” she said and bowed. “I’ll be taking my leave now.”

She knew in her gut she wasn’t going to find anything, but as a parting farewell...

“Endeavor, you should really consider enrolling Shouto in school,” she said. “I understand your concerns as a parent—” that didn’t extend to his other children, another red flag, “but the only reason school is not mandatory is because there are too many varied quirks to properly account for it all. Socialization in a child is important.”

“Shouto will get his socialization at UA. I’m not going to homeschool him forever,” Endeavor said bluntly, in a tone that told her he wanted her out of his house. “He doesn’t need to attend right now.”

The three boys were looking between Endeavor and Yori like they were watching a tennis match, and she didn’t like the light in Yuzuka’s eyes.

“Alright, but please consider it,” she said and handed her business card to Yuzuka. “If you need me for anything, call me.”

With that, she turned and walked for the genkan. None of them offered to walk her to the door, and she didn’t feel... good about leaving Yuzuka in this house, but at the same time... All the boxes were checked. It was a fight between siblings that got out of control. Nothing more, nothing less.

Gods, she hated this.

Chapter Text

A goddamn social worker had been in his house, and Enji was pissed about it. What fucking teacher at Sabuki’s school thought he burned her? Why the fuck—

He wasn’t going to get mad. He could not afford to get mad on patrol. He had to be calm and reasonable, but the anger was still burning in his gut, because what if Sabuki had been taken away? What then? Would she even be able to transition? Realistically, she would be given to next of kin, which would be a grandparent, or Fuyumi, and he knew that, but his mom was transphobic. She had sent him multiple scathing texts, and Rei’s parents were dead now. Cancer, both of them, while Rei was institutionalized.

And Fuyumi was twenty. She wasn’t prepared to be a parent.

The social worker hadn’t taken Sabuki, though, but he knew there would be an unannounced follow up visit. Probably in a month or so, and he was all ragged nerves. Honestly, what social worker thought he did that after that Twitter fiasco he was still dealing with the fallout of?

He was pissed, and deeply so. A goddamn social worker, and—

His phone was ringing, and he pulled it out of his pocket, checking the caller ID. Sabuki’s school. Of course it was Sabuki’s fucking school. What had she done now?

“Endeavor speaking,” he said as he answered the phone, and there was a long, long pause on the other end.

“Endeavor, sir,” the principal said, a bare tremor in his voice. “Could you come to the school, please? I need to discuss something with you.”

“You can discuss it over the phone,” he said coldly. “Or do I need to melt someone out of ice again?”

“Ah, no, no,” the principal said. “No, Todoroki has been very well behaved, it’s just... Well, you see, we have a problem. ”

“And what’s the problem?” Enji asked shortly, and the principal audibly sucked in a breath.

“Well, frankly, Endeavor, the school where Todoroki attends, my school, has been publicized by multiple students, and there’s... security concerns.”

Right. It had been posted where Sabuki went to school, and he was a little concerned about that, but why did the principal need to call him about that? There were heroes that patrolled the area, in case he needed extra security. Was he asking Enji to facilitate the meeting?

“What security concerns? If you’d like additional security, ask the heroes in your area. I don’t patrol over there,” Enji said bluntly, and the principal nervously coughed.

“Well, you see, the, uhm, the parents are upset,” he said, and Enji stilled. “They’re threatening to pull their children out if I don’t expel Todoroki for sexual deviancy, and, ah, well, you see...”

“I’m sorry, are you threatening me? ” Enji asked in disbelief. Sexual deviancy? What century were these people living in, the 21st?

“I just... I thought it might be better for... Todoroki’s record... if you pulled her out yourself,” the principal said, and Enji was silent for a long, long moment.

There weren’t many schools left in Musutafu. There was Nabu and Aldera. Both were shit schools, and she had already been expelled from the private academy he normally sent his children to. He should have seen this coming, but sexual deviancy? Really? That was... not something he would be able to scrub from her record.

Was this what it was to have a trans child? he realized with dawning horror. Was this just going to be Sabuki’s life now? Was this going to be his life? Could this principal even do that? Enji was being threatened now. No, he was being delivered an ultimatum. Either pull her out, or she will never be able to get into another school again.

She could kiss her dreams of UA goodbye with an expulsion like that. He would have to grovel to Nedzu and explain what happened, otherwise her application would be tossed out before she could even take the test. That was... He didn’t...

His pride stung. His child wasn’t a sexual deviant. He was... he wasn’t offended. He didn’t even know how he felt right now. Was he angry? Enraged? Did he want to sue? What would suing a pissant school like this even accomplish? He would just look like a bully in the media, and Sabuki would be even more public with a lawsuit like that. He would just... it would be terrible for PR. It would be absolutely terrible.

He took a deep breath in.

“I’ll send over the driver for her,” he said gruffly, and he could hear an actual sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank you, Endeavor, really,” the principal said, and Enji hung up the phone, not interested in hearing him babble his thanks for not blowing his fucking lid.

Sexual... deviant? Was that what his daughter was going to be seen as for the rest of her life? Was that what he was going to be seen as, for allowing this?

He almost wanted to take it back. Take her back to the gender clinic and have her implant removed, revoke his consent, but...

Are you gonna bury another son?

He... he couldn’t. He couldn’t do that to his child.

When he went on that social media tirade, he was making a choice. He wasn’t going to put another child under number one. Not again. Not for a second time. He had already lost Touya in his pursuit of number one, and he was not going to lose Sabuki. He wasn’t going to lose a child. He couldn’t do it, wouldn’t do it. Number one was always, always going to be important, but...

Other things could be important, too.

And Sabuki was important.

He couldn’t lose her. Not at thirteen years old, so young, so full of life and burning resentment against him, those angry eyes that tracked his movements like a mad dog. He couldn’t lose her. He knew she thought very little of him, and he didn’t care about that, but he could not lose his child.

People were accusing him of being a pedophile, and he was half tempted to sue them for it, but he just... He needed to figure things out. He needed to figure things out, and he needed to—

“Endeavor, sir?” Burnin’ asked, and he looked up. “Are we going to get back to patrol?”

“Right,” he said, his tongue thick in his mouth. This was going to be Sabuki’s life, and he was allowing it. Why the fuck was he allowing this? Was it worth it? “Yes, let me just...”

He texted the driver, telling him to go pick up Sabuki, and then he hesitated over his texts with Sabuki.

Dad: Go wait outside your school. The driver is coming to pick you up.

He would have to call Aldera and Nabu, see if they had any vacancies. Fuck. This was a living nightmare. His child had been kicked out of two schools because she was trans. Two of them had kicked her out, and he knew Nedzu wouldn’t care, would allow her to attend UA, but...

That was the second school in less than a month. She hadn’t even been at Musutafu Middle for a full three weeks. This was insane. Was discrimination really that bad? Had he been blind to this? He had always known, on the periphery, that Sabuki was trans, and he had ignored it, because he didn’t want to consider the ramifications. He didn’t want to consider what her life would look like, what she would be living as. He didn’t want to consider what her life would be. And parents were threatening to take their kids out of school if that blasted principal didn’t punish her for being a boy. He was...

He truly felt sick. He felt sick, and he didn’t want to consider what the rest of her life would look like. He didn’t want to consider it. This would be her entire life. She would be called a pervert, a pedophile, a groomer, just for existing. She would be hunted down by villains pissed a trans person was a hero. She would be reviled and hated for daring to breathe in the same world as other people. He had already seen people calling her a confused autistic girl online, and she wasn’t even autistic. She was just...

He felt like he needed to get away from all of this. Just needed to take a day and process what his child would be facing, and how he could protect her from it. He needed to do something. She was going to be headed home, and his phone was vibrating in his hand with a text from her.

Sabuki: Why tf am I going home?

She didn’t have social media, and didn’t know what people were saying about her. Should he tell her the truth, or protect her from it? Should he be honest, or refuse to answer the question?

He would just not text back.

“I need to go back to the office,” he declared, and Burnin’ gave him a weird look. She had been far down the street when he got the call, and didn’t know what was going on.

“Why?” she asked, and he swallowed.

“I need to find another school for Sabuki,” he said, and there was a long pause.

“Did she get expelled again? ” Burnin asked, and he shook his head no.

“No... The principal gave me the option to pull her out,” he said, and turned on his heel.

“What did she do? ”

“Apparently she’s a sexual deviant,” he said, and now that he was saying it out loud, he realized his voice was hard, angry. Was he angry? Or was he just in shock that someone could say something about a thirteen year old child that had never kissed a boy in her life? “And parents are threatening to pull their kids out. So, I need to find another school.”

Burnin’ looked at him in horror, and he walked down the street, back towards his office. If only Rei was here and could handle this. Sabuki was taking more and more time out of his patrols, and he was starting to get stressed out with the entire situation. If Rei were here, maybe she could handle the situation.

He couldn’t keep missing having a wife like this. He had signed up to be a single dad, and he was going to follow through, but goddamn, was it hard. The kids, at least, were fairly self sufficient, even if they did get third degree burns when he was home late from work and got the social workers called on him.

Fuck. Fuck, this was a fucking nightmare. How many schools would Sabuki go through until she made it to high school? Would she end up having to transfer out of UA, too? He knew she was aiming for UA, wanted to go to the same school as Fuyumi, but...

He wanted to break something, honestly. He wanted to trash his office and scream. But, he couldn’t lose his temper like that. People already had shitty opinions of him, and he was going down in the popularity polls, and if he did something like that, it would definitely leak.

He was just frustrated.

He was so, so frustrated.

Having a trans child was like something out of his own personal hell. Having a trans child in Japan was even worse. He didn’t know what to do. He did not know what to do, and he couldn’t imagine sitting Sabuki down and explaining she got kicked out of school because she was a ‘sexual deviant’. She may act tough, jaded, unbothered by anything and everything, but when she was little, she used to rescue worms off the sidewalk with her cold, cold hands. He knew she was a sensitive child.

But... she hadn’t been sensitive in a long, long time. Maybe she would take it well. Maybe she wouldn’t. He could avoid the entire situation by simply not telling her the details. He just didn’t have to use the words ‘sexual deviant’.

Goddamn, he was so glad he had installed parental locks on her phone. He could only imagine the damage being on social media would do right now.

Chapter Text

“SABUKI!” Dad thundered from somewhere in the house, and Yuzuka pulled himself to his feet from his desk where he was watching some fantasy anime and dragged himself to the door.

“WHAT?” he shouted, and Dad thumped down the hall and came to his door.

“Go sit down in the living room,” he ordered, and Yuzuka pulled a face.

“Why did you even pull me out of school and then never come home?” he demanded. “I didn’t even do anything.”

“That’s what I’m going to talk to you about, now go sit down,” Dad ordered, and Yuzuka rolled his eyes, closed his door, and walked down the hall with Dad looming behind him.

“You know, you’re going to look real stupid still calling me Sabuki in three, four years,” he said over his shoulder, and Dad twitched. “How are you gonna let me go on puberty blockers and not call me Yuzuka?”

“We aren’t talking about that right now,” Dad said, and Yuzuka flopped on the couch and crossed his arms. Dad sat down in his armchair, bracing his elbows on his knees, and then he dropped his head.

“What is it?” Yuzuka asked bluntly, and Dad stared down at the ground. He looked vaguely defeated, which was a strange thing for him to look like. Yuzuka had never seen him look so human, and something uncomfortable twisted in his gut at the expression on his face.

“Your principal called today,” Dad said after a long, long pause. “He gave me two options. Pull you out voluntarily, or he’ll have to expel you for being... trans.”

He said trans like he was picking the word carefully, and Yuzuka stared at him.

“I called Nabu Middle and Aldera. Neither one of them were willing to accept you as a student,” Dad said gruffly, but he looked vaguely disturbed. “So, I’m keeping you out of school. You’ll be learning with Shouto and the tutor until you can get into UA.”

Yuzuka was silent for a long, long moment. So, that was it, then. He was stuck with Shouto for the foreseeable future, and he didn’t have a choice in it, because no school in the area wanted to accept him. He felt some kind of weird buzzing in his throat, and his eyes were unfocused. No, he couldn’t focus them. Was this really his life now? Not even allowed to go to school because he was trans? What the fuck?

Yuzuka swallowed.

“Okay,” he said simply, because he truly did not know how to react to this. “So, I’m homeschooled now. With Shouto. Who burned the shit out of me.”

“Just don’t antagonize him,” Dad said, and Yuzuka’s ire rose.

“Don’t antagonize him?” he repeated. “Dad, what the fuck? He put me in the hospital. ”

Dad stared at him before he stood and walked to the door to the training room.

“It’s time for Shouto to train,” he said shortly, and Yuzuka stared at him over the back of the couch, feeling vaguely like a fish out of water. “Tomorrow, be in the school room at eight am. I already texted the tutor that you’ll be joining them.”

“Gods, why can’t you just—” Yuzuka cut himself off, realizing what he was doing. He was looking to Dad to say something to make it better, and it was like an electric shock to the system. Why the fuck would he need Dad to say something to make it better? He was banned from every middle school in Musutafu. For being trans. He got expelled from Musutafu Private for shaving his hair off, and now he was voluntarily pulled out of Musutafu Middle for being trans. He felt like he couldn’t breathe.

What would he do if he was banned from UA, too? What if he was banned from every hero school? There were moral clauses in their contracts, and what if he didn’t fit that morality barrier? What if he was always going to be considered a sexual deviant, a pervert, a groomer, a pedophile? Was this really his life now?

Abruptly, he got up from the couch and charged towards Natsuo’s room. He burst into it without even knocking, and Natsuo looked up from his laptop.

“I got banned from school,” Yuzuka blurted, and Natsuo stared at him. “Because I’m a sexual freak. ”

“You’re not a freak, they’re just idiots and bigots,” Natsuo said immediately, and Yuzuka stared at him with tears in his eyes.

“If that’s the opinion of the whole world, does it matter what I am?” he asked, and Natsuo looked back at his laptop. He had Twitter open to a trending tab, and Yuzuka caught sight of what he was looking at.

Sabuki Todoroki.

He was... trending in Japan on Twitter, he realized as bile rose up in his throat. That was... not okay, he thought, and he was sieged with a peculiar desire to look. Without a word, he strode across the floor and grabbed Natsuo’s laptop, and Natsuo’s eyes widened.

“Wait, don’t look at that—” he said and tried to grab it back, but Yuzuka slapped his hands away. The boy flopped on the futon with it and scrolled through, reading the comments.

Sabuki Todoroki is a prime example of permissive parenting. I thought Endeavor would have better control of his own kids. He should have beat her more.

Sabuki Todoroki is going to molest a child by the time she turns 18, mark my words, if not before.

Sabuki Todoroki is being groomed and Endeavor is doing NOTHING about it.

This is disgusting. Sabuki Todoroki needs to be locked up in an insane asylum, not out wandering the streets.

This is how you create a monster, Endeavor. I wouldn’t want Sabuki Todoroki near MY fucking kids.

If I was a kid at that school, I would have beat Sabuki Todoroki back into being a girl. You wanna be a boy? Get hit like a boy.

Yuzuka felt like he was going to throw up. He threw the laptop away, and it clattered on the ground as frost spread across his fingertips. His breath frosted in the air, and Natsuo crouched in front of him.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I was reporting the tweets when you came in,” Natsuo said. “You shouldn’t have seen that.”

“I don’t care if I’m hated,” Yuzuka said, his eyes unfocused and wild. “But, if they’re going to hate me, I’m going to give them a reason to hate me.”

He was shaking, shivers wracking his body as frost spread up his hands, his wrists, all the way to his elbows, and the temperature in the room was dropping to below freezing. He couldn’t see straight, couldn’t focus on Natsuo’s concerned face.

“I’m going to be better than all of them,” he swore. “They wanna hate me? They’re gonna fucking despise me by the time I’m done with them.”

“Yu, you need to calm down,” Natsuo said. “You’re scaring me.”

Frost was spreading from Yuzuka’s back, all the way up the wall, and he was shivering and shaking. He was... No, pissed wasn’t the word for it. He wasn’t raging mad, either. There were no words to describe this burning in his belly, this taste of ash in his lungs. He couldn’t see through it, couldn’t breathe through it, and he knew he was losing control of his quirk like a small child, but he didn’t care. He did not give two shits.

“They’ll forget about it in two weeks and move on to the next target,” Natsuo soothed, and Yuzuka shivered.

“Then, I’ll burn myself into their memory,” he hissed, feeling like venom was dripping from his lips. “I will not be forgotten.”

Yes. This was why he wanted to be a hero. He wasn’t going to retire when he hit number one. He was going to hit it, again and again and again. As many times as it took to kill them with their incandescent rage at the idea of a trans man flourishing. He was going to spite all of them, make them miserable in their anger, in their bigotry. He was going to be all they talked about, all they thought about, and he was going to make them furious. He was going to be the greatest hero of his generation, and no one, not even timid, unsure, hesitant Shouto was going to get in his way. Dad could forge Shouto in the flames of hell all he wanted, but Yuzuka was going to be forged in the ice of the ninth circle.

He was mad because he was a child. He was mad because other children were cherished, loved. He was mad because he was being denied the simplest of things: education. It was only because Dad was rich that he could get it. He was being maligned, dragged through the mud, and he was a child.

He felt like his childhood was being stolen from him. His life was flashing before his eyes, and he didn’t know who to be more angry at: Dad or them. If he had been born into a normal family, he wouldn’t be put on display like this. Paraded around like a peacock for them to fling mud at. He would be expelled, sure. Banned from all the schools, yes. But...

“Are the heroes even defending me?” he demanded, and Natsuo was quiet.

“They’re staying quiet,” he said lowly, and he nearly laughed. He had heard about Dad’s little Twitter tirade. So, the only pro willing to go up to bat for him was his own father. So much for chivalry. So much for doing the right thing, regardless of how the world perceived you. Half of them probably agreed with the bigots, the transphobes, those sniveling cowards suckling on the teat of blind hatred.

Who benefited from this, he asked himself. Who got more powerful from this? Dad was probably going to be bumped down to number three when it came time for the billboards, and Fuyumi was probably going to get bumped down, too. They were tainted even with association with him. His touch was oily, leaving a black mark on all he touched, and he felt like he was going to vomit.

No one was ever going to love him, were they? he realized. He was going to be alone, unwanted. Shouto would probably get a partner. Natsuo was probably going to get a girlfriend. Fuyumi probably was able to date. Anyone that publicly dated him would be a pariah. They would have to sneak around in private lest they be called a pervert, and he knew in his heart he would never accept that kind of treatment. He wouldn’t, and so, rather than settle, he would be alone.

He was going to be number one one day, and it would be empty, meaningless except for his rage.

Yuzuka took a deep, calming breath and got up.

“I’m going to start on dinner,” he declared, because he needed to stick a knife in something right now, and Natsuo got up, too.

“I’ll help you with it,” he said, and Yuzuka pursed his lips.

“I want to be alone right now,” he said, and Natsuo grabbed him by the shoulder.

“I’m not going to leave you to hurt on your own,” he said quietly. “I’ve left you alone long enough.”

Yuzuka froze, staring at Natsuo with wide, wide eyes, and Natsuo gave him a gentle smile.

“Let’s make chicken curry,” he said and turned for the door. “It’s cold out.”

Yuzuka watched him go, trying to hold onto his anger, because it was his anger that kept him sane, but he found that it was shriveling up and dissipating.

Well. At least he would always have Natsuo.

Chapter Text

Shouto looked up as Yuzuka slunk into the room, his shoulders hunched and eyes darting around the room. For a long moment, he just stared at him, and Yuzuka deliberately did not make eye contact.

“What are you doing here?” Shouto asked, because it was eight am, and Yuzuka should be at school by now, and it was only then that he noticed there was another desk set up next to his.

Oh, no, no, no...

“None of the schools will take me, on account of being a filthy tranny, so I have to do the homeschooling thing with you now, like a freak,” Yuzuka declared, and Shouto stared at him dully.

“Well, you are a freak now,” he said, because he was kind of getting annoyed with Yuzuka constantly antagonizing him, and Yuzuka stared at him.

“What’s gotten into you? Mad I’m invading your space?” he asked as he flopped down at the other desk, and Shouto swiveled his head around to track him.

“No, I’m just tired of you acting like this,” Shouto said, flat, and Yuzuka crossed his arms and glared at the chalkboard.

“Uhuh,” he said, and Shouto felt irritation rise, because what was wrong with his brother?

Ah. Shouto gave him a third degree burn. That was what was wrong with him.

His eyes tracked to the burn scar wrapped around the left scar of his jaw, and he looked away. Silence spilled out, and then the door opened. The tutor, Haruki Ayao, spilled into the room, her bag on her hip and a frazzled expression on her face.

“Good morning!” she said cheerfully, but Shouto was familiar enough with her now that it was forced. “Hello, Yuzuka, Shouto.”

She had her brown hair up in a messy bun today, and was wearing a soft pink sweater that matched her eyes, jeans, and socks with cherry blossoms on them. Haruki had always been a bit of a mess, but it looked like she put extra care into her appearance today. Normally, her socks were mismatched. Cherry blossoms were blooming as always from her curly hair, and she set down her bag and started writing on the board.

“We’ve got to get Yuzuka’s tablet set up, and then we’re going to start with history,” she said, and then she turned to Yuzuka. “Please go to the links I’ve listed on the board.”

Shouto’s learning was a hybrid in person tutoring and online assessments. All of the quizzes and major tests were online, through a school that catered to the rich, and all of the teaching was done by Haruki. She was a teacher with a school that worked with students that couldn’t go to school because of their quirks, and it had been that way for as long as Shouto could remember. Sure, she hadn’t been his teacher for all of the years. He had a different elementary school teacher, but for the most part, it had always been him and Haruki alone in this room.

He didn’t like Yuzuka invading it, because Yuzuka, he knew, didn’t listen to teachers and antagonized. Shouto didn’t antagonize. He was willing to bet Haruki had argued with Dad to get Yuzuka his own teacher and classroom, and Dad had ignored her, because his phone had been buzzing all night last night while they were in training. Well, Dad would break at some point, when Yuzuka proved to be too much of a distraction to Shouto.

With a quiet, put upon sigh, Yuzuka followed the instructions and opened Chrome to type into the search bar with the links. Haruki knelt next to his low desk to walk him through it, ordering him to put in his token that verified him as a student of the school, and Shouto looked out the window while they waited. It didn’t take too long to get set up, but this was boring.

So, none of the schools in the area would accept Yuzuka? That seemed insane to him. He was just trans. Lots of people were trans. Was it because he was publicly trans, or what? Were they worried about security and leaks? He had no idea. He couldn’t believe all of those principals told Dad no. What the hell? People didn’t tell Dad no. That simply wasn’t done. No wonder Dad had been off last night. He was pissed about something, wouldn’t tell Shouto what, not that Shouto would ask, and he had been brusque and meaner than usual. Criticizing everything Shouto did.

Shouto rapped his nails on the desk and eyed Yuzuka. They would be stuck with each other until high school, and with any luck, Yuzuka wouldn’t get into UA, and he wouldn’t have to deal with him again. Yuzuka might be homeschooled through all of high school, never become a hero, and Shouto didn’t...

Like the idea of that.

He had no idea where Yuzuka ranked in terms of power and quirk control. He’d been training since he was ten, but he was too slow to stop Shouto from burning him. That would get him killed in an active situation. But, now Fuyumi was training him, so what did that mean for Shouto? He had no idea, and he was quietly concerned about it. He had no real desire to reach number one, but what if Yuzuka actually hit number one and he didn’t? How would Dad react? He didn’t even want to consider it, but he supposed he would be an adult at that time, and Dad could throw all the hissy fits he wanted, he still couldn’t do shit.

With a quiet sigh, Shouto just brought up the reading material for the day for history and started scrolling through it, not sure of what else to do. His eyes scanned over the text as Haruki quietly walked Yuzuka through registering his accounts, and he propped his chin in his hand as he read over the chapter. He felt hazy, drifting. Yuzuka was going to class with him. What next, would Dad start training him? He had no idea, and he felt gross and slimy.

His eyes darted back to the scar wrapped around Yuzuka’s throat, and he swallowed and looked back down. He had done that. He had done that, and Dad hadn’t managed to get him to bring out the white flames again. Well, to be more exact, Shouto refused to do it. There was no reason to have flames that hot. There was no reason at all, and he didn’t need their existence in his life. They had hissed instead of crackled, and the sound was still stuck in his head. Yuzuka’s scream was still stuck in his head, and he looked down at his hands.

Hands made of violence. He should be happy right now. He was finally getting to catch up after missing years of his twin’s life. He had no knowledge of anything related to Yuzuka, beyond the fact that he was angry and derisive, bitter and mean, and had no friends, not like Natsuo. He drove off everyone around him, and Shouto wanted to be his friend, even as he wanted Yuzuka to stay far, far away from him, with his mean words and cruel comments. He wanted to get under the layer of bitterness and prove that little girl he knew growing up was still there, that girl that brought mud pies into the house and spoke with a lisp and smiled so brightly, with shining eyes, believing everyone would believe her when she said she was a boy.

He didn’t want to admit that girl was dead, killed by this house.

He mourned her.

.

.

.

.

.

Tamura entered Enji’s office, and Enji could already feel a headache coming on.

“You’re not going on patrol this morning,” he said, and Enji stared him down, because he’d been missing enough patrols this week. “You’re doing a sensitivity training.”

“I’m doing a what? ” Enji asked, and Tamura grinned at him.

“We have a new hire,” he said. “And she’s going to give you a sensitivity training.”

“I don’t need a sensitivity training, ” Enji said in disbelief. “I need to be on patrol. ”

“You’re publicly supporting the trans community whether you like it or not, and now you need to actually get along with the trans community and not make glaring mistakes, so, yes, you do need a sensitivity training,” Tamura said and swept his hair out of his eyes. “Come on, come to PR. I have a conference room set up.”

“This is ridiculous,” Enji said in disbelief. “I don’t need training to parent my child. ”

“This is about more than just Yuzuka now,” Tamura said, and Enji twitched at the name, because he didn’t name Sabuki that, and Tamura eyed him. “This is about the entire trans community. You’re falling in support with the right wing crowd, and LGBT people are polling as being apprehensive of you. They’re not sure you can be a good ally, so they’re not throwing their full support behind you. If you want to keep that number two spot, you have to be educated and well spoken on the LGBT community.”

Enji twitched. He was aiming for number one. It was insane to him that loving and protecting his child from herself could bump him down another number. It was no one’s goddamn business what medical decisions he made for his fucking kid, but the whole world was now invested in what he was doing in a doctor’s office with his child, and he was pissed about it. A sensitivity training was not something he wanted to do. He thought this was a personal matter, but apparently not. It was now everyone’s business, and he was annoyed about it.

“You’re also working security for the Pride parade in June,” Tamura said, and Enji twitched again. A parade? They were a nightmare to work security for, and Pride parades were typically among the worst parades you could do security for. There were always threats and counter protestors, and you had to keep the peace and get people to stand down. Drag queens were notorious for provoking the counter protestors, and he was of the opinion that they should just let the leather community or whatever it was called handle their own security. They clearly could handle it, but what did he know? He didn’t see why there had to be heroes there to begin with. Why the fuck was he working security?

“The Flaming Sidekicks will be there, as well, and we have you slated to make a speech, which you have to be prepared for—”

“A speech? I don’t have to do a speech, ” Enji said in disbelief, and Tamura thinly smiled at him.

“Like it or not, you are now the parent of a trans child. A very visible parent of a trans child, and—”

“Cut the speech, I’m not doing that,” Enji said shortly. “I’m not going to use my child to win the support of the queers.”

“You can not call them the queers, what the fuck, Endeavor—”

“Why not? That’s what they call themselves—”

“I’ll tell Wakuri to include a segment on slur reclamation,” Tamura muttered and pulled out his phone, typing on it and sending out a text. “Anyways, you’re doing this sensitivity training, or I’m quitting, because I refuse to work my way through this without you doing the absolute bare minimum.”

Enji paused. Tamura had been with him since the beginning. Had quelled multiple scandals and kept him in number two for decades now. He could never quite get him to number one, but he kept him stable, long enough to wait All Might out for when Shouto was ready. They had their ups and downs, but Enji had always relied on Tamura, and he didn’t... He couldn’t risk losing him. He was too good at his job.

“Alright, fine,” Enji spat out, and turned for the door. “Which conference room?”

“3-B,” Tamura said, and Enji headed out of his office and jammed the button for the elevator. The doors dinged open, and he stepped into the elevator and crossed his arms angrily, the doors sliding shut on him. The elevator delivered him to the third floor, where PR was, and he thundered down the hall and turned into the conference room.

There was a man there, on a laptop, and Enji stared at him. He was the most effeminate man he had ever seen, with multicolored hair, in a pencil skirt and blazer, heels crossed, freshly shaven, and the longer Enji the stared at him, the more he realized this was not a man. He looked somewhere between male and female, but the Adam’s apple was apparent on his throat, and he was tall, when he stood up, around six foot or so without the heels. Enji first thought it very unprofessional that he was in a skirt, but if he wanted to wear a skirt, so what?

Wait.

New hire?

Did Tamura seriously do a fucking diversity hire?

This was a trans woman, Enji realized. He had seen them before, but never spoken to them. He could tell at a glance she was transitioning, taking what was likely estrogen, and he immediately found himself wondering if he was paying enough for laser hair removal. He might not be, so he would have to tell Tamura to give her a raise.

“Hello, Endeavor,” she said and smoothed down her skirt. She had a husky voice, but it sounded feminine enough. Like an old movie star, back when it was attractive for women to not have girlish voices that made him feel uncomfortable at best. “My name is Akimi Wakuri. I’ll be doing your sensitivity training today.”

“I don’t need you to tell me how to parent Sabuki, so we’re not going to be discussing her—” Enji said immediately, and Wakuri picked up a spray bottle and squirted him in the face. Twice.

“Aht, aht. He, and Yuzuka,” she corrected, and Enji startled. “If you get used to calling him by his deadname in private, you’ll do it in public, and I am not about to handle the social media fallout from that. You don’t pay me enough for to defend you from that.”

Enji stared at her blankly, and she smiled at him. She had two crooked lower teeth, but overall, they were straight.

Oh.

He was going to like this one. And hate her in equal measure.

Chapter Text

“In order to understand the LGBT community, especially the trans community, you have to understand their history,” Wakuri said as she started up the powerpoint. “We’re going to start with the Institute of Sexology.”

Enji twitched, because how long was this going to take?

“As you know, quirks first appeared in the 1970s, but before that, we had two major world wars and the Holocaust,” she said as she clicked through the slides. “I see you’re not taking notes. I hope you can remember all of this.”

She expected him to take notes?

“The Institute of Sexology was based in Berlin. Before the Nazi party took over, Berlin was actually a hub of the LGBT community, though it wasn’t called that back then,” she continued, and he stared at the black and white photo on the screen. He had seen it before. It was a book burning during WW2. Why was that up there? “This famous image was captured during the burning of the books and the raid on the Institute of Sexology. The Institute of Sexology stood from 1919 to 1933, years before the war began. The head doctor there, Magnus Hirschfeld, was a gay Jewish man, and had to flee persecution at the hands of the Nazis. Nazis targeted the gay and trans community, and many members of that community ended up in concentration camps. They were designated by a pink triangle. We lost decades of research on the day of the book burning, and have only began to recover what was lost in recent years.”

She cleared her throat.

“As you know, the Japanese government sided with Germany at the time,” she said and clicked on the next slide. “Pride is in June because it marks the Stonewall riots, in America. Trans and gay community members were being arrested in droves, and they began the riots as a means of taking back control.”

It was an image of a black... woman? He was guessing she was a trans woman, but he had no idea.

“This is Marsha P. Johnson,” Wakuri said, and gestured to the image. “That’s a name you need to know. She was a drag queen and a trans activist, very prominent during the riots and resulting marches a year later. She co-founded STAR, a homeless shelter for trans youth, which she funded herself through sex work.”

She clicked on the next image, and Enji sat back in his chair and crossed his arms.

“This is Sylvia Rivera, another trans activist that helped co-found STAR. She is famous for the claim for throwing the first Molotov cocktail at the Stonewall Riot, though this is not proven. She was seventeen at the time. This happened before quirks were a thing, and both of these women were quirkless.”

Wakuri stared at the image of Sylvia for a long, long moment before she clicked the next slide.

“Now, onto LGBT rights in Japan during the dawn of quirks,” she said, and then she launched into a diatribe, explaining the history behind the marches, which mirrored the Stonewall Riots, and the leading actors. He came to understand through her explanation that trans people had always led the civil rights movements, and more often than not, they were trans women. He had no idea there was so much history behind Sabuki’s... Yuzuka’s... identity.

“There was a resurgence of right wing ideology in Japan during the dawn of quirks, emphasizing traditionalism and going back to the ‘old ways’, though many pointed out the ‘old ways’ always had a history of LGBT relationships, typically involving pederasty, which isn’t great, but it was there.”

Enji pulled out his phone and googled ‘pederasty’, and stared at the result. Oh. Okay.

“Are you really on your phone right now?” she asked in annoyance, and he looked up.

“Googling pederasty,” he grunted, and she paused.

“You could have just asked me,” she said, and he stared at her blankly, and she sighed. “Continuing on.”

“The majority of Japanese activism has not been through riots or protests, but through lawsuits, as is often the case in Japan,” she continued. “In example, same sex relationships being prohibited from marriage is currently undergoing a case right now. However, there were a few incidents. Namely, the AIDS crisis. AIDS spread from America to Japan via pilgrims trying to figure out their quirks in a less restrictive environment, and there was a moral panic over it. AIDS spread much further than anticipated, becoming a global problem, and LGBT individuals were scapegoated for it, named and shamed. The AIDS crisis coincided with the quirk crisis, and LGBT quirked people were specifically targeted in the resulting moral panic.”

She clicked on the next slide, and an image of a Japanese man appeared, with brown, messy, curly hair and blue eyes.

“This is Osamu Yasuhara. AIDS was discovered by scientists in the US, but he was the one that cured it,” she said. “Osamu Yasuhara was a trans man from Fukuoka. He discovered that later quirks in the second and third generations had something the first generation lacked: a self preservation gene. This is why you’re fireproof, why quirks have evolved to assist, rather than maim. He was able to replicate that gene and formulate it into a medication that could cure it.”

She paused, and then she continued.

“It took him twenty years of work to make it widely available, affordable, and mainstream. His research expanded to other research, leading to more discoveries I’m not going to get into, but many quirked children survived lethal quirks as a result of their discoveries, typically headed by LGBT scientists, because cishet allosexual scientists wouldn’t touch their research,” she said, and then she showed an image of a crime scene photo.

“Osamu Yasuhara was murdered the day he was meant to receive an award for his discoveries,” she said, and Enji took in the blood all over the scene, and the body under a sheet. “It was a brutal killing, and he was raped before he was murdered, for a long time, at least several hours. Several neighbors heard his screams for help, and no one called the police or heroes. Several heroes walked by his house and did not investigate.”

She clicked to the next slide, showing an image of a march.

“This led to a march that turned into a riot, a rarity in Japan, but so many people did nothing to save Yasuhara. The queer community was incensed, and it spilled into the streets. People called for action, and that led to the first law codified into action that prevented discrimination based on sexuality and gender. The heroes that walked by were sued by several civil rights institutions, and that led to the law that you’re familiar with, requiring heroes to intervene if there is evidence of an ongoing crime, with special exceptions, such as needing to prepare for a raid. This is why you are legally obligated to protect people before property.”

Enji didn’t know any of this, and he sat back in his chair, crossing his arms and staring at the photo of the march. His phone buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it. He knew it was the Wild West before that law came into effect, but he didn’t know the history behind it. His eyes lingered on the photo of the march, and he thought about Sabuki... Yuzuka, and the perverts out there that would hunger for her. He didn’t like the image. He didn’t like it at all.

“Now, let’s move on to the ongoing court cases you need to be informed on,” she said, but his mind was wandering. He didn’t consider the fact that trans people were widely regarded as a fetish, and would Sabuki be okay when he got older? She was homeschooled now, so there was no threat of someone assaulting her in a bathroom, but...

He didn’t know. He didn’t feel good about this. Was she even safe to send to UA? What if someone attacked her? He didn’t like this, not at all, and he had to envision her future. What if she went to a bar one day and was assaulted? Fuyumi was training her, so she could handle herself now, but...

He didn’t know.

He didn’t like this. He didn’t like this at all.

“Your mind is wandering,” Wakuri snapped, and his eyes snapped back to her. “What’s so interesting that your sensitivity training can be ignored?”

“I... I’m thinking about my daughter,” he said, and she lifted the spray bottle and squirted him in the face. “Son.”

“What about your son?” she asked coolly, as if she hadn’t just squirted the number two pro in the face with a bottle of water, and he winced.

“I may have to train her myself,” he muttered, and she squirted him again. “Him, gods.”

“Why?” she asked, and he pursed his lips.

“Rapes like that still happen, don’t they?” he asked, and she was quiet.

“Three months ago, a trans man was correctively raped for six hours and killed,” she said. “They found his body in a river.”

Enji was silent. He hadn’t heard about that, but the only news he watched was Hero Watch, and they wouldn’t report on that.

“What is correctively raped?” he asked, and she sighed and sat down, rubbing her eyes.

“That’s when a cishet person rapes a queer person to ‘correct’ their queerness,” she explained. “It happens a lot to lesbians, though it does occasionally happen to cis gay men. The statistics on trans men being correctively raped are unclear, because they are so often misgendered and deadnamed and ignored in the media, so it’s impossible to tell. Especially by their families. There’s a huge culture of ‘respecting the wishes of the parent’ above respecting the actual identity of the child, and it leads to a silent minority, disrespected in their deaths and erased from history.”

... Oh.

That was why she had the spray bottle, he realized. She was trying to force him to accept his child as trans, so he wasn’t forgotten in history in case he was killed. And there had been a lot of death threats and rape threats online. He was at risk.

He made the right choice in homeschooling, he realized. And he definitely made the right choice in banning Yuzuka from social media.

Enji was silent for a long moment, and she looked up at him.

“Do you get it now? If you don’t respect him, no one will. You have power as his parent. You have to force the media to not sweep him under the rug as another femicide, in case someone... follows through,” she said, and he startled as he realized that was a risk now. It was criminally easy to find someone’s address online, especially if they owned a house. His child was...

At risk.

He didn’t want to let him go to UA, he realized.

He didn’t trust them to keep him safe.

“I get it,” he said gruffly, and she nodded.

“Good. Now, onto genders,” she said, and clicked to the next slide as she stood up. “There is no way to count all of the genders, because they are unique to each person, but they tend to fall under three umbrellas: transmasculine, or transmasc, transfeminine, or transfem, and transneutral. Transgender is an umbrella term, and nonbinary people can identify as transgender, but not always. Asking pronouns is a tricky business. Some trans people offer them up, some don’t want to be asked, but in general, the rule of thumb is to ask privately, not put them on the spot, and ask what pronouns they prefer in different situations. A transmasc can be he/him in most situations, but she/her with his parents, and so on and so forth.”

She clicked to the next slide, and he sat back.

“Onto misgendering. Misgendering is when you do not use the correct pronouns for the person. It will happen, and it will likely happen often until you’re comfortable with the trans community, and the key to it is to correct yourself and move on. Do not grovel, over apologize, or make a big deal out of it. Just correct and move on,” she said, and he pursed his lips. He kind of wanted to escape from here, but he knew better. He didn’t need her to tell him how to parent his child, but, at the same time, he was very much aware that he needed to be comfortable with the entire trans community, not just his son.

“Deadnaming,” she said and clicked to the next slide. “The most important thing you can do is never deadname a trans person. Never, ever do that. But, if you do, the same rules apply. Correct and move on, and preferably issue an apology privately. You should never ask a trans person what their deadname is. That is a huge no-no. Do not. Ever.”

He was silent, because he didn’t understand what the big deal was about a deadname, but whatever. It was what it was. He’d follow the rules.

“As far as you’re concerned, their correct name is the name they have always gone by,” she said, and clicked on the next slide. “Now, onto pride events. As you present as cishet, it’s good to always allow space for other people to raise their voices. The most important thing you can do in this circumstance is limit your discussion to your experiences as a parent of a trans child, and do not speak over anyone on anything else. Do not provide your opinions on slur reclamation, microlabel discourse, anything. As far as you’re concerned, that has nothing to do with you.”

Wait. Present as a cishet man? What did that mean?

“What is microlabel discourse?” he asked, because he was just confused and annoyed now.

“Things like discourse about how nonbinary people cheapen the trans experience, how bi lesbians don’t exist, how transmascs can’t be lesbians, things like that,” she explained, and he blinked.

“The fuck is a bi lesbian?”

“We’re not talking about that right now,” she said, unamused, and he realized he was in way out of his depth here.

“Why can’t a transmasc be a lesbian?” he asked, and she pursed her lips.

“They can be, but you cannot say that,” she said, and he pulled out his phone and navigated over to Twitter.

@ ProHeroEndeavor

What is a bi lesbian?

Since she wouldn’t answer his question, he would turn to Twitter, and she sprayed him in the face with the water bottle.

“Oh, come on, I didn’t even mention Yuzuka,” he swore, and she frowned at him.

“I’m not cleaning that up for you,” she said, and he frowned at her.

“Why would that make a mess?” he asked, and she sighed.

“Let’s make a new rule. You learn something new about the gay community, you do not take it to Twitter,” she said, and he frowned.

“I didn’t even say fuck,” he grumbled, even though he dearly wanted to, and she sighed.

“Let’s just continue,” she said, and clicked on the next slide, where NONE OF MY BUSINESS was instituted in big, bold letters. “People are going to try to pull you into discourse. This is your mantra. As far as you’re concerned, it’s absolutely none of your concern. You support your trans child, and that’s it.”

“What if my son is a transmasc lesbian?” he asked, and she paused.

“It’s still none of your business what your son chooses to call himself,” she finally said. “I think. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it and do some focus groups.”

Focus groups.

Fucking fantastic.

He hated focus groups.

Gods, when was this sensitivity training going to be over?

Chapter Text

Shouto didn’t often open Twitter. He didn’t like it, didn’t care for it, didn’t really care for any social media, in fact. But, he knew from articles rolling through that he probably should. He knew Yuzuka was banned from social media and had parental locks on his phone, tablet, and laptop, but he didn’t know anything other than that. He wasn’t even sure of what Yuzuka did to deserve that.

He was kind of glad he was banned from it right now, because he had stupidly searched Yuzuka’s deadname, and it was... horrifying.

His dad’s mentions were on fire, because for some reason he had tweeted out ‘what is a bi lesbian’ with zero context or follow up, and Shouto didn’t really care about that, because what he was finding on Yuzuka’s search results was... horrifying. He felt sick. He felt like he was going to throw up, because what were these adults saying about his brother?

He was taking lunch right now, but he couldn’t stomach his food. He was scrolling through the burning trash fire that was Yuzuka’s deadname, and he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Of course, he knew it would be all negative if they were using his deadname, but... Shouto thought that his anger wasn’t going to get any better with this.

Yuzuka was always so angry, bitter, mean, and Shouto thought that maybe he had a right to that anger, if this was how the world was going to treat him. He wanted to argue, start fights, but what would that do? He was on his burner account, he didn’t have social media with his name, and he had no power here.

On instinct, he checked Natsuo’s account, because Natsuo was famous on Twitter, but his account was silent. He hadn’t tweeted in days, and had made no mention of Yuzuka beyond a trans pride flag posted. He was quiet, and Shouto didn’t understand how he could be quiet right now. Shouto wanted to scream and rail against the world. That was his twin, and sure, they didn’t have much of a relationship, but he couldn’t sit back and let people say things like that about him. Was Natsuo worried he’d make it worse if he engaged with them? Was that it? Shouto didn’t understand why this was happening. He didn’t understand how the world could be so cruel to a child.

He looked up, across the table, at Yuzuka, who was silently eating his food, scrolling through an article on his phone. He was surprised Yuzuka hadn’t antagonized him. He had primarily been quiet today, and Shouto was grateful for it, but he wondered if he knew.

“Do you know what they’re saying about you on Twitter?” he asked, and Yuzuka took a bite of his curry.

“Yep,” he said, and popped the ‘p’. Oh. So, he did know.

“... Are you okay?” Shouto asked a pause, and Yuzuka’s angry gray eyes flicked up to him. A long silence spilled out, and then he sat back, studying Shouto in silence.

“You’re going to hit number one one day,” Yuzuka said after a pause. “And I’m going to kick you out of it.”

Shouto stared back at him, wondering what that had to do with anything.

“Okay...?” he tried for, and Yuzuka snorted.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he asked, and Shouto stared at him in silence. “I have to be number one. I have to piss them off, make themselves shit themselves with how fucking mad they are. I have to be on top, because I can’t let them win. ”

“How are you going to get to number one with that personality?” Shouto asked bluntly, and Yuzuka froze. “You’re just like Dad, and that’s why he’ll never be number one.”

“I am nothing like that man,” Yuzuka spat out, and Shouto tilted his head.

“But, you are, though?” he said, more of a question than anything else. “Or you’re like Touya. I can’t tell the difference sometimes.”

Yuzuka looked like Shouto had hit him in the face, and Shouto wondered if he had overstepped there. He might have. Shit, they had an hour for lunch, and now Yuzuka was going to spend it not talking to Shouto. Or getting mad at him, which was even worse. Well, at least he was paying attention to him.

“Why do you think I’m like Dad, huh?” Yuzuka demanded. “Dad’s cold. He’s untouchable. I’m real. ”

Real was a weird way to put it. Dad had never not appeared real to Shouto, but he supposed it made sense to Yuzuka. After all, Dad was a distant figure in his memory, always walking away from him until Yuzuka forced him to acknowledge him. And now Dad was distracted most days, getting lost in thought more often than not. He was thinking about Yuzuka a lot, and Shouto could tell. Yuzuka was dominating his every thought, because he had forced Dad to acknowledge that he was a person, too, with needs and wants and things that Dad needed to provide for him that wasn’t food, shelter, clothing, and an education.

No one until Yuzuka had managed it. Not Natsuo, not Fuyumi. They had begged him, screamed at him, railed at him, but no one committed like Yuzuka.

He had committed.

“I wish you weren’t so angry at me,” Shouto said lowly, and Yuzuka froze. “You’re so mad, at everyone, and I just want to be your friend.”

Yuzuka looked like Shouto had hit him in the face, and Shouto looked up at him. Blue eyes met gray, and Yuzuka looked somewhere between startled and needing to cry.

“Neither of us needs friends, ” Yuzuka said, reverting to derisive, as per usual, and Shouto pursed his lips.

“We used to be friends,” he pointed out, and Yuzuka snorted.

“Yeah, when we were, like, two, ” he said, and Shouto thought of the forgotten photo album, pictures taken by Mom, of them sitting at the table with a cake in front of them. Yuzuka had already taken a chunk out of it, and the photo was blurry as Mom tried to rush to stop him from shoving it in his mouth. That had been their third birthday.

“Can’t we be friends again?” Shouto asked lowly, and Yuzuka stared at him. The gap over the dining room table seemed to widen to impossible lengths, and Yuzuka got up and walked out of the room.

Shouto was left alone.

Again.

.

.

.

.

.

“We should probably do something about the fact that people are threatening death and rape on Yuzuka,” Fuyumi’s PR rep, Adachi, said from the doorway of Fuyumi’s office, and Fuyumi looked up from her paperwork with dead eyes.

“Have you been reporting the tweets?” Fuyumi asked, and Adachi pushed herself off the doorway and advanced into the room.

“Have been for the past hour,” she said coolly, and Fuyumi pursed her lips.

“I imagine a lot of them have been taken down,” she said, and Adachi rolled out her shoulders.

“They have been,” she assured her. “But, I think you should talk to your dad and explore criminal charges. At least to set an example.”

“That requires talking to my dad,” Fuyumi grumbled and looked at the time. It was seven, but it wasn’t a training day, which meant she could head home early. She’d been here since seven am, and people had asked her some fucking invasive questions on patrol. “Alright. Bring me the worst of them, and I’ll do something about it. There has to be some tweets from people using their real name.”

“There are some tweets from actual blue checkmarks,” Adachi said grimly, and Fuyumi winced.

“Okay. Get all of those together for me, and I’ll call Dad,” she said. He should be at the tail end of his patrol right now, and could take a phone call. She pulled out her phone, and Adachi nodded and slipped out of the room. For a long moment, she just stared at the contact ID before she bit the bullet and dialed the number.

It buzzed once, twice, three times, and he picked it up.

“What is it?” he asked gruffly, and she rubbed her eyes.

“We need to pursue criminal charges and a lawsuit,” she said. “My PR rep is getting together a list of blue checkmarks who tweeted out death and rape threats, and I’m going to have her send them to your PR rep.”

Dad was silent for a moment before he sighed.

“Okay,” he said, and oh, he took that rather well. “I’ll get ready for a lawsuit, then.”

“It will be messy and public,” she warned him, and he sighed again.

“That’s fine. This entire situation is messy and public,” he said, dismissive. “It’s fine. It’s a circus.”

“Right,” she said, feeling vaguely weirded out, because this was the first civil conversation she’d had with him in a while.

“I need to get back to patrol,” he said abruptly and hung up the phone. The line went dead, and she pulled her phone back from her ear and stared at it.

The entire situation was getting out of hand. She wasn’t getting many threats, but her fanbase was quick to report comments that were less than desirable. She had urged them not to engage, and they typically listened to what she said, so it was fine. She was glad Yuzuka didn’t have social media, because if he saw that shit... She didn’t know what he’d do. He was unpredictable at best, and there was no telling how he’d react. Dad wasn’t nearly supportive enough, and the only good thing he did was ban Yuzuka from social media and let him start puberty blockers. Though she was wondering about the ‘bi lesbians’ tweet. Was he getting a sensitivity training or something? What PR person brought up bi lesbians to Endeavor?

Her phone pinged with a notification, and she checked it. Dad had just tweeted, and she read over the tweet.

This is the only warning, was all he posted, and did not expand on it. Oh, gods. Already, replies were rolling in. ‘ What warning?’ ‘King of lack of context.’ Okay, that one was kind of funny. The lawsuits are comiiiinnnnggggg.

The lawsuits were coming. Public image was everything in Japan, and a lot of people had insinuated that Yuzuka was a pedophile. He was thirteen, for fucks sake. What the fuck were they even talking about?

She sat back in her desk chair and ran her hand through her hair, and then her phone started buzzing again. Dad was calling again, and she answered the phone.

“What is it?” she asked, and there was a pause.

“You’re not going to be training Yuzuka anymore,” he said, and she blinked.

“Excuse me?” she asked dangerously, and he continued.

“I’m going to take over from here,” he said, and her brain went blank. Dad was what now?

“That doesn’t even make sense,” she said. “You’ve got a fire quirk. He has an ice quirk. The fuck are you gonna teach him?”

“I have twenty years of experience on you, and I need to make sure he can defend himself,” Dad said, and she paused.

Ah. This was his paranoia and control freak tendencies again. She sort of understood it, because he had literally gotten death and rape threats, but at the same time, this was a mistake.

“Him and Shouto hate each other,” she pointed out. “How are you going to work that one out?”

“They’ll work it out,” Dad gritted out. “They’re already doing school together.”

“Wait, what?” she asked, because she hadn’t heard about that.

“None of the schools in Musutafu would take him, so I decided to homeschool him,” Dad said, and Fuyumi blinked. Oh. Okay.

“That social worker is going to come back, and she’s not going to be pleased,” Fuyumi pointed out, and she knew for a fact Dad was rolling his eyes.

“She can cope with it. It’s my right as a parent,” he said, and Fuyumi was quiet for a moment.

“Yeah, sure, whatever, but it’s better to let me keep training him,” she said, as calm as she could, because yelling wouldn’t get her anywhere. “Shouto literally gave him third degree burns. He’s going to be terrified of him.”

“He needs to get over that fear if he’s going to be a pro,” Dad pointed out, and yeah, that was true, but it was better that he was given some time before he was thrown in the warzone. It had only happened a couple of weeks ago.

“It only happened a few weeks ago,” she snapped, and then she took a deep, calming breath. “Why can’t you trust me to handle it?”

“Because you are twenty years old and barely not a teenager,” Dad said derisively. “You’ve barely been a pro two years, and—”

“I nearly took your spot last billboards,” she hissed, and threw caution to the wind, because she was angry now. “Do you think me incompetent? ”

“You’re a perfectly competent pro, but you don’t have what it takes to make number one,” he said, and Fuyumi inhaled sharply.

“And you think Yuzuka can be number one?” she asked, because that was a change of pace. “What the fuck makes you think that? ”

“I didn’t say that,” he said, “but he can contend for it, with the right persuasion.”

“And what about me can’t? ” she asked, and Dad was silent for a moment before he spoke.

“Yuzuka is training with me, and that’s final,” he said, and oh, he was laying down the law now? “Besides, your quirks are entirely incompatible. You have wind and snow. He has ice. Your argument that I am not compatible is not based in reality.”

“I can do it without fucking traumatizing him! ” her voice rose to a shout, and Dad was silent for a long, long moment.

“Shouto’s not traumatized,” he said bluntly, and disconnected the call. She angrily called him back, but he declined the call, and she went right to voicemail. Rage gripped her, and she rapidly started texting the group chat.

Fuyumi: Dad’s not letting me train Yuzuka. Natsuo, can you speak to him?

Natsuo: Tf do you want ME to do about that?

Fuyumi: He wants to train him himself.

Shouto: Huh?

Oh, she completely forgot Shouto was in this group chat. He never messaged.

Yuzuka: What?

Fuyumi: He just called me and told me he’s training Yuzuka now, because he can’t trust ME to do it, and I need us ALL to band together and gang up on him.

No responses came, and she felt frustration rise up. This was not okay. Dad was going to traumatize the fuck out of Yuzuka, and they were going to fight like cats and dogs the whole time. Absolutely fucking nothing would get done, and Shouto and Yuzuka hated each other. Yuzuka was fucking traumatized, Shouto had a short fuse, and she just—

This was a terrible idea. A terrible idea. She would have to go home and meet him there to talk some sense into him.

Chapter Text

Enji walked in through the door and toed out of his boots. The house was quiet, still, the way it always was, and he walked into the living room, only be to greeted with Fuyumi on the couch, still in her hero uniform, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. Their eyes met, and he braced.

“This is ridiculous,” she said, flat, and he ignored her.

“SHOUTO! YUZUKA!” he hollered down the hall, and their doors slid open. “Get in the training room and start warming up.”

“Do you realize how ridiculous you’re being?” Fuyumi asked lowly, and then she stood. “Shouto gave Yuzuka a third degree burn. ”

“They will be fine,” Enji said stiffly, and she hissed through her teeth.

“They will not be fine, it barely happened three weeks ago! ” she thundered. “It hasn’t even been a month, and you want to expose him to more fire. ”

“He needs to learn,” Enji retorted, and a chill wind swept through the house.

“And I can teach him, ” Fuyumi hissed. “Why don’t you trust me? ”

“You’re a perfectly acceptable pro,” Enji said shortly. “But Yuzuka needs to learn from the best.”

“Perfectly acceptable?” she repeated, her voice high with disbelief. “ Perfectly acceptable? I’ve been running circles around you since billboards! My popularity is polling higher than you! My arrests are nearly matching yours! I’m better than you! ”

Enji stared at her in sheer disbelief, because this girl had been a pro for two years. The fuck did she mean, better than him?

“You hold down number two for twenty years, and then we can talk,” he said, because what the fuck was she talking about? “You’re still number three, and that’s not going to change.”

“I’m coming for your spot if you do this,” she threatened, and he laughed, because what even?

“You’ve been saying that since you were twelve,” he said. “It’s an empty threat.”

Her eyes were blazing with rage. She had been threatening to overtake him out of sheer spite since she was a child. Ever since she was twelve years old, she had declared that she was going to kick him out of number two, and he was tired of it. He was tired of the hate, the derision, the anger. He was sick of it. Sure, he had been focused on Shouto, but hadn’t everything been provided to her? She had wanted for nothing. It was the trust fund that he set up that enabled her to even start an agency, fresh out of high school and hopped up on her own superiority, and they had fought about that, too, because he thought she should be a sidekick for a few years before she committed to that.

“This year, I’m going to do it,” she promised, and he rolled his eyes. “And you’re going to hate me. ”

“Is that what you want? For me to hate you?” he asked, and she blew up.

“Yes, I want you to hate me! ” she screamed. “If you could feel even an ounce of what I have felt for the past eight years, it will be enough for me! I want you to despise me! I want to knock you off your pedestal, this empty altar you’ve built to number one and sacrificed a child for, and I want you to cry, because you never cried for Touya! And you wouldn’t have cried for Yuzuka, either, if he followed through!”

Enji stared at her, stunned. What? What? What?

Fuyumi stormed past him and shoved her feet into her boots he hadn’t noticed by the door, slammed the door open, and disappeared into the night, leaving the door open behind her. Enji stood there, stricken, swaying on his feet, and when he looked up, Yuzuka was leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, a lazy smile on his face as malice sparked in his eyes.

“You deserved that,” he said, and turned back into the training room. Enji couldn’t breathe. He half wanted to call off training, because what the fuck did she mean, didn’t cry for Touya? He wept for that boy, cried his soul out on top of Sekoto Peak, begging for him to be alive, and just because he never broke down in front of his children didn’t mean he didn’t weep. He was destroyed, and this was all for Touya. This was all because it couldn’t be for nothing. It had to mean something.

He felt a little out of his own skin. He wouldn’t hate Fuyumi if she kicked him out of number two. He wouldn’t know how he would feel, but he wouldn’t... hate her. He could never hate her, no matter how much she raged against him. That was his only daughter now, and he would never say it, but he was proud of her.

Could he be proud of this? He didn’t know. He thought he could be, but maybe... Maybe he shouldn’t be. Maybe he shouldn’t be proud of this, because it felt less like she was accomplished and more like she was burning up, just like Touya. It felt like she was on fire, and he couldn’t quench her flames, make it better.

Should he be proud of this? He didn’t... she was a good pro, but that wasn’t enough to be number one, number two. Didn’t she realize that? It wasn’t enough. You had to want it for the sake of wanting it, not for revenge. Why did she want revenge, anyway? Touya was dead. He wasn’t coming back. This wouldn’t fix anything for him. Wouldn’t bring him back, wouldn’t lay his soul to rest. He was gone.

He was swaying, he realized, eyes wide and unseeing. He still thought back to that little girl, standing there, twelve years old and weeping at Touya’s funeral, declaring to him that she was going to take number two from him, because she didn’t know who else to be angry at.

He was just a convenient target, he realized. He was a convenient target, and she was going to take it out on him, and he would just have to suffer and put up with it, because he didn’t know how else to help her.

“We’re done stretching,” Shouto said from the doorway, and Enji’s brain dialed back on as he stared at Shouto. Was he really not going to say anything? Was this just business as usual in this house?

It was, he realized. Shouto didn’t care. Neither did Yuzuka. Neither of them cared. This was just the world still spinning, but Enji felt like he was drowning.

He needed to train them.

Numbly, he moved into the training room and stood there, barely breathing as he looked around. Yuzuka was staring at him, his eyes knowing and sparking with manic glee, and Shouto’s eyes were as emotionless as always, dull, betraying nothing.

“Alright,” he said, and cleared his throat. “Yuzuka. Give me the biggest glacier you can manage.”

Yuzuka turned and stamped his foot into the floor, and the temperature of the room dropped like a stone. A massive glacier overtook the entire room, and Enji’s breath frosted before him. Yuzuka looked back at Enji, a smirk on his lips, and Enji had to clean up the garden after his messes, but he didn’t realize he was this... advanced. It had been business as usual when he cleaned up the garden, but he hadn’t realized his youngest son was such a powerhouse.

“Ah,” he said, “alright. We’re going to have to increase your speed.”

It had taken a few seconds, and those were precious seconds he didn’t have in a fight. If he had been better able to defend himself, then he wouldn’t have gotten burned like that.

“I don’t want to rely on just glaciers,” Yuzuka said, clearly, and Enji gave him a weird look. “I want to be a brawler like Fuyumi. Teach me how to brawl like her.”

Fuyumi was a brawler, with her quirk used in a support aspect, not as a the main pull, but he had a completely different quirk than hers. He supposed he could wear ice like armor, but he... Well, he was training Shouto to be a brawler, too, so he supposed he could make it work.

“Alright,” he agreed, even though Yuzuka was more suited to all out finishing moves. “We can work on it.”

Yuzuka grinned ferally, and seriously, traumatized? He wasn’t fucking traumatized. The kid was a brick wall, incapable of anything but bloodthirsty intent. He was an emotional war criminal, and he was not fragile. He was a fucking menace.

“Let’s start with a spar,” Enji said and turned to Shouto. “Go easy on him; he doesn’t have the same hand to hand combat training you have. Go slow.”

Yuzuka didn’t pause, didn’t even stop. He charged Shouto, ice forming across his arm, and punched him in the face. Shouto’s head snapped back, entirely unprepared for that, and blood flew from his nose, and Enji realized he should have kept him on his toes more often, because Yuzuka was already kneeing him in the gut with a knee covered in ice. Shouto got with the program, and fire flared from his elbow to give it a little more kick as he punched Yuzuka in the nose, and Yuzuka’s head snapped back, blood flowing. Okay, this was happening. Enji made no moves to stop them, though he had a bad feeling about this, and Yuzuka stumbled back and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. He grinned, blood in his teeth, and charged Shouto, but Shouto grabbed him and flipped him over his shoulder. He slammed into the ground, the breath driven out of him, and he tangled up his legs in Shouto’s and knocked him over. Yuzuka sat up on Shouto’s waist, and Shouto lifted his arms, fire flaring to life, and Yuzuka froze. Fear flashed in his eyes, and Enji made a move to intervene, but Shouto was already rolling them over, his fists still on fire, and he sat between Yuzuka’s legs and punched him in the face. Yuzuka brought his arms to protect his face, ice formed over his arms, and Shouto blew fire at him.

Yuzuka froze, barely breathing, and Enji watched him for fear reactions. There was a faint tremor in his body, but he needed to get over that. So, Enji didn’t intervene. Yuzuka needed to realize that his ice could stand up to Shouto’s fire, and he didn’t need to be so fucking scared.

Yuzuka twitched his hips and bowled Shouto over when he’d melted through the ice, faint burn marks on his arms, nothing serious, just first degree, and punched him in the face. A flaming fist came at him, and he ducked under it, and then he slammed his hands into the ground on either side of Shouto’s face. Ice burst out, and Shouto was suddenly encased in it. Yuzuka stumbled back and wiped his dripping nose again, and then Shouto completely burst into flames. The ice didn’t so much melt as explode, sending shards flying, and yeah, Enji needed to intervene.

“That’s enough,” he said sharply, and both of their heads whipped around. A piece of ice was sticking out of his shoulder, barely a flesh wound, and he plucked it out. “I said spar, not brawl.”

Blood slid down his arm, and he ignored it. He would have to get a new suit, or patch it. Both of their eyes tracked to the injury, and Yuzuka was a little pale, waiting for Enji to lash out. Enji said nothing, and both of them shifted in discomfort.

Enji lifted his arms and blasted his fire at the glacier, slowly and steadily melting it, just enough to get the training dummies out, and Yuzuka hid a flinch. Enji frowned, because he would have thought that spar would have fixed that, but apparently not. It was probably the explosion that did it. He was gunshy now, but Enji would work that out of him.

“Alright,” Enji said once the training dummies were sufficiently melted out. “Go work on the training dummies. No quirks.”

The two boys split off, and Enji watched them go with crossed arms and hard features. He would probably have to correct Yuzuka’s form a lot. Gods, he was training him way too late. He would be a menace by the time he made it into UA, but...

Oh, well.

It was fine. He didn’t have the edge Shouto did, but he was clearly a natural combatant, with good instincts. Enji could work with that.

Chapter Text

Shouto took the towel from Dad and sealed it over his nose.

“Now blow,” Dad ordered, and Shouto blew his nose. Clotted blood flew out in chunks, long streams of blood hitting the bathroom floor, and Shouto blinked blearily as Dad took the towel. “This is going to hurt.”

Dad’s hands formed a V over his nose, and he straightened it out with multiple small cracks. Tears sprang to Shouto’s eyes, and fresh blood gushed out, dripping into his mouth and making it taste of metal. With that, Dad turned to Yuzuka and straightened out his nose, too, with a muffled noise of pain escaping Yuzuka’s lips. More blood flooded out, and Dad ripped up some toilet paper and shoved it up into Yuzuka’s nose.

“I told you to spar, not brawl, ” Dad muttered under his breath and took the towels. He mopped the blood off the floor and turned for the door. “Eat your dinners and go to bed.”

Yuzuka and Shouto were left alone in the bathroom, staring blankly at each other, and Shouto nervously licked his lips.

“I thought that went well,” he said, even though Dad literally got stabbed, and Yuzuka stared at him with dull eyes before he turned and walked out of the bathroom. Shouto followed him out, and there were two trays in front of their bedroom doors. Natsuo was now solely in charge of cooking, and Shouto felt bad for him. Yuzuka was being trained the same as Shouto, four hours a night, from seven pm to eleven pm, sometimes three or two hours when Dad had to work late, but he had no time to cook.

Without a word, Shouto picked up his tray and carried it into his room, sliding his door shut behind him. He listened to the sound of Yuzuka’s door sliding shut behind him, and then he let out a quiet sigh. He felt... he didn’t know how he felt.

He had really fucked up, burning Yuzuka like that. The other boy had been watching him out of the corner of his eye all night long, expecting him to do something, and Shouto didn’t know how to express to him that he wasn’t going to do something. He just... he had always wanted a relationship with Yuzuka. Always. For years now, he had watched him come home from school every day and wish he could be in his life. Now that Yuzuka was homeschooled and being trained by Dad, he had that chance, and he had thoroughly fucked it up. Because he had burned the shit out of him.

Quietly, Shouto sat down and dipped his soba noodles into the sauce, chewing on it silently. It was his favorite dish, but he couldn’t enjoy it. Training had gone terribly today. His whole body hurt, and Yuzuka had not held back. Dad had to separate them. Just... fuck, he had fucked up. If Yuzuka was going to do anything, it was hold a grudge, and Shouto knew it was useless to try to be friends with him, but he wanted to at least make an attempt.

Shouto picked at his soba noodles in silence, feeling a little out of his own skin. He didn’t know how to overcome the barrier with Yuzuka. His brother felt, and felt deeply, and Shouto knew that, but he just... he wished he could figure it out. He had no experience in making friends, and he had always wanted to be Yuzuka’s friend, but it felt impossible. Shouto had burned the shit out of him, and he wasn’t going to forgive him anytime soon.

There was a knock on his door, and he looked up. The door slid open, and there was Yuzuka, with his tray of food. Without a word, his brother walked in, sat down, and started eating, and Shouto stared at him. What?

“I—” Yuzuka said, and trailed off, and Shouto waited with bated breath for him to say those words. I forgive you. “I told Fuyumi I don’t want to be like this. Angry.”

Shouto stared at him, and Yuzuka picked at his noodles in silence, lifting them up and dropping them over and over, stirring them up.

“I don’t like being angry. And I think you’re angry, too,” Yuzuka said, and Shouto was silent.

Yeah. He was angry. He’d been denied his twin his entire life, never got the chance to stick up for him and demand Dad see him as a boy. He had loved Yuzuka from a distance. Mom had snapped and poured boiling water on him. Touya was dead. He didn’t know shit about his siblings, was too awkward and unsure to even speak up in the group chat. There were a lot of things he was pissed about, but he never vocalized them, because he had seen Fuyumi rage, and he knew it was useless.

“Dad keeps pushing me to use that white fire,” Shouto said lowly. “I refused.”

That was his token protest. He refused to use that fire that maimed his brother, and Dad was pissed about it, saying he needed to use it in order to control it. Shouto didn’t think he needed to learn to control it. He thought he needed to lock it away in a dark, dank place, where it never saw the light of day again.

Yuzuka was silent, considering, and then he took a bite of his soba noodles. For a moment, the two of them just ate in silence on the floor of Shouto’s room, and then Yuzuka spoke.

“I don’t really care if you use it,” he said, casually, and Shouto glanced at him. He did care. Shouto could see it all over him, and he said nothing. “Don’t hold yourself back on my account.”

Shouto said nothing, and Yuzuka glanced at him.

“I’m sorry I called you a prize winning pig,” he said, but his voice was tight.

“Don’t force yourself,” Shouto muttered, and Yuzuka snorted.

“I just...” he trailed off and looked up at the line where the ceiling connected to the wall. “I just don’t want to be pissed all the time. At least, not like this. All angry, with nowhere to put it. I’d rather at least have some direction. ”

“And do you? Have direction?” Shouto asked, and Yuzuka was quiet.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “I do.”

He didn’t elaborate, and Shouto didn’t ask. Yuzuka was going to change the world one day, and Shouto didn’t know where he factored into that, but he liked to think he had a chance to make history, too.

Chapter Text

Yori was late. It had been two months since her last visit to this home, and she had been putting it off. It was April now, and she was just as nervous as the first time as she had visited. The drive was as long as ever, and she strode up it, feeling anxiety bubble and blossom. Endeavor had been terrifying last time, and she did not want to be here. But, she needed to check on all of the kids, not just Yuzuka. Shouto had concerned her last time, and she didn’t want to assume he was being abused just because he was being trained, but...

Well.

She would just have to suck it up and do her job.

She knocked on the door, and there was the sound of someone yelling.

“BE RIGHT THERE!” someone hollered from inside, and then there was a long pause. The door opened, and there was Natsuo, standing there with an apron on dusted with flour. She smiled at him, and he stared at her dully.

“Oh, you’re back,” he said, flat, and she nodded.

“I am! Can I come in?” she asked, and he paused and looked back at a door.

“One second, just wait here,” he said and closed the door in her face. There was the sound of shuffling, a door opening, and then dim conversation she couldn’t quite pick up. The door opened again, and there were the twins, peering out of what looked like a bare room that she realized was quite large. Both of them looked fine, healthy, but it seemed like Yuzuka had put on some muscle since she last saw him. Endeavor loomed behind them, and she smiled at him.

“Hello, Mr. Todoroki,” she said politely. “I’m here for the next wellness check.”

Endeavor stared her down, dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, and he did not look happy. Then again, did he ever look happy?

“Fine,” he bit out, and she slipped into the house and toed out of her shoes. She padded into the living room, clipboard being drawn out of her purse, and smiled at Yuzuka.

“Can I speak with Yuzuka privately?” she asked, and Endeavor grunted.

“Fine,” he said, and turned for the door.

“This way,” Yuzuka said and turned down the hall leading to his room. She followed him, and Endeavor’s hard eyes followed her as she slipped into his bedroom. Yuzuka slid the door shut, and she got out her pen and clicked it on.

“Now, Yuzuka, I understand you’re not in school currently,” she said, because she had checked, and he winced.

“None of the local schools would take me, on account of me being a ‘pervert’, so I’m homeschooled now,” he said, and she internally winced. Yeah, there was nothing Endeavor could do about that, so she would keep her opinions to herself.

“Alright,” she said and made a note. “I see you were with Shouto and Mr. Todoroki.”

“Yeah, Dad’s training me now,” he said, and alarm bells went off in her head.

“With Shouto?” she asked casually, and he frowned at her.

“We worked it out,” he said stiffly, and she tilted her head. He seemed different from the last time she had seen him, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

“Alright,” she said, even though that seemed like a bad idea to her, he literally gave him a third degree burn. “Do you feel safe, training with Shouto?”

“Yeah. I told you, he’s a wuss. He won’t do it again, and I can handle him now myself,” Yuzuka said, and she glanced up at him, her pen pausing in scrawling on the paper.

“Elaborate on that,” she said, and he shrugged.

“I can keep up with him. He won’t get a hit like that on me again,” he said, and she frowned. That seemed wrong to her, but she couldn’t put her finger on it—

“Is Mr. Todoroki making you spar with him?” she asked as it occurred to her, and he gave her a weird look.

“Well, how else are we gonna learn?” he asked, and she pursed her lips. Okay. That was... fine, she supposed. It made sense, but she still didn’t like it.

“I see,” she murmured and made another note. “Do you ever get seriously injured when you spar?”

“I mean, the first time we sparred, we broke each other’s noses, but Dad got on our asses about that before he straightened them out,” he said, and she glanced at him. His nose was slightly off, now that she was looking at it. Gods. Okay.

“Anything since then?” she asked, and he shrugged.

“Little first degree burns here and there. Shouto’s still learning when to cut off his flames when he’s not sparring with someone that’s literally fireproof,” he said, and she wrote that down, too. She didn’t think Endeavor should be using Yuzuka as a training dummy, but she might be reading a little too into this conversation.

“Alright. And as for everything else... You’re still fed and clothed and all of that? Your father isn’t hitting you or anything like that?” she asked, and Yuzuka blinked at her.

“Why would Dad risk the entire spot of number two to get out two seconds of anger he could have kept to himself?” he asked, and she paused. She knew that was probably the only reason Endeavor wasn’t hitting his kids, but it was a little unnerving that Yuzuka was so aware of it. He knew his father too well. Or, maybe, she was being a little bit harsh on Endeavor. Gods, she needed a drink.

“These are yes or no questions, Yuzuka,” she said gently, because she needed an actual answer, and he snorted.

“No, Dad isn’t hitting me. I’m fed, though he has gotten a little controlling of my diet now that he’s training me, and I’m clothed, and I have an education. Everything is fine,” he said bitterly, and she pursed her lips. So, he knew. She wasn’t going to be taking him away.

“Alright,” she said gently. “Let’s go ahead and go out to the others, then.”

“Alright,” he said and pushed open the door. She followed him out into the hall, and glanced at Natsuo once she made it into the living room. He had been cooking the last time she was here, too, but she couldn’t take a child away for cooking all the meals. That was frustrating, but she didn’t say anything.

“Do you mind if I speak with Shouto?” she asked pleasantly, and Shouto stared at her with dull eyes. He didn’t look as scared as last time, but she chalked that up to... Actually, she didn’t know what to chalk that up to.

“Fine,” Endeavor said bluntly, and Shouto paused.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” he said, flat, and she pursed her lips.

“And why is that?” she asked, and he stared at her with blue eyes and said nothing. Okay. Brick wall there. “Then, can I speak with Natsuo?”

“I’m busy,” Natsuo said from where he was stirring the soup for tonight’s dinner, and she bit back an exclamation of annoyance, because why would none of these kids work with her? Yuzuka gave her the bare minimum information, Shouto refused to talk to her, and now Natsuo was avoiding her.

“Alright,” she said with a smile. “Can I just take a look around, then?”

“Sure,” Endeavor grunted, and she promptly opened the fridge and looked inside.

“You know, I’m a little concerned about Shouto and Yuzuka sparring,” she said, in a tone that said ‘I can’t take him for that but I dearly want to’. “It’s only been a few months since...”

She glanced at the burn wrapped around Yuzuka’s throat and jaw, and then she smiled tightly.

“Perhaps independent learning?” she asked, and Endeavor stared her down.

“No. Yuzuka has already gotten over his fear of fire,” he said, and she smiled, because she knew for a fact that kid hadn’t gotten over it and was just hiding it.

“Alright,” she said, rather than argue with him. “Even so, it’s cause for concern. Shouto violently attacked him.”

Shouto flinched, and she shut the fridge and stared Endeavor down.

“I understand you’re doing what you think is best for your child, but sometimes parents make mistakes,” she said, and Endeavor studied her in silence.

“Are you going to take him?” he asked bluntly, and she smiled.

“No,” she said. “Everything seems to be in order, I just have a few concerns about Yuzuka’s wellbeing.”

“Then, if you’re not taking him, clearly everything is fine,” he said, and she nearly snapped at him.

“That is black and white thinking. Social workers like myself often operate in shades of gray,” she said, and Endeavor frowned at her. “Prolonged exposure to Shouto like this isn’t what’s going to help Yuzuka.”

“I’m not going to separate him from his twin,” Endeavor said with a snort, and she bit back a retort that he seemed fine isolating Shouto from all of his siblings for several years, from what she could infer.

“Alright,” she said coolly. “Well, I think I’ll be leaving now.”

With that, she turned towards the door and opened it, stepping back into her Hey Dudes and making her way outside. The door shut behind her, and she walked off down the drive.

Goddamn, Endeavor was not a good parent, and it was extremely frustrating that she couldn’t do anything about it.

.

.

.

.

.

Yuzuka watched the door slide shut behind the social worker before he turned back to Dad.

“Are we going to keep training?” he asked bluntly, and Dad turned back towards his office.

“No,” he said. “You’re done for the night.”

Shouto and Yuzuka were left standing there, looking like idiots in their training gear, having only trained an hour before Dad decided he wasn’t going to do it anymore, and they exchanged glances before Yuzuka opened the pantry and got out two bags of honey chips.

“AND STOP EATING THAT JUNK!” Dad thundered down the hall, but Yuzuka just tossed the bag to Shouto. His brother caught it, and tore it open, and Yuzuka hauled himself up onto the counter and popped open his own bag. He threw a honey chip in his mouth, and Shouto sat down on the floor in the middle of the kitchen and took a bite of his own honey chips as Natsuo pulled a face.

“You’re going to be too full for dinner,” he complained, and Yuzuka shrugged.

“No, we won’t,” he said, and tilted his head. “What, is it nearly ready?”

“Not yet,” Natsuo grumbled and turned back to the yosui. “You two need to shower. You smell bad.”

“Well, we’re sweaty,” Yuzuka said, and made no moves to go shower.

“I know that, but—” Natsuo paused as his phone buzzed with a notification on the counter, and then he leaned over it to check it. “Huh.”

“What is it?” Yuzuka asked, and Natsuo slid the phone across the table to him.

Frostbite trending higher than her father, Endeavor, in the popularity polls! Will her arrests allow her to take the number two spot after twenty years?

Yuzuka paused, and then he let out a harsh bark of laughter.

“Oh, billboards are gonna be fun this year,” he purred, and Shouto got up to read over his shoulder. Silence fell between the three brothers, and then Yuzuka slipped off the counter.

“I’m gonna go shower before dinner,” he said and tossed his bags of chips on the counter. “No one eat that.”

Natsuo glanced at it, and Yuzuka frowned at him.

“I mean it,” he said warningly, and Natsuo rolled his eyes.

“I’m not gonna eat it,” he said, even though he would, but it was fine. Yuzuka would trap him in a block of ice later. Asshole.

Yuzuka sauntered off towards the bathroom, closing the door behind him and staring at himself in the mirror. He was getting taller. His hair was growing out, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to keep the mohawk or not. Dad had gotten over it entirely too quickly.

What would the popularity polls bring, he wondered? He couldn’t wait for billboards. If Fuyumi was already trending higher than Dad now, at the beginning of the year, and didn’t have to waste time training him, then...

Maybe she could do it.

He couldn’t wait to see the expression on Dad’s face.

Chapter Text

The thing about the billboards was you saw it coming months beforehand. Enji had ground and ground and ground, and it was ultimately meaningless. He had kept quiet, ignored the scandals, and did everything right. But, doing everything right was not enough. He had to contend with that now. Doing everything right was not enough, and now here he was, at the Billboard Awards, backstage, scrolling on his phone.

Idk I just like Frostbite more than Endeavor. P sure she’s gay, and Endeavor has been on top long enough. Let the youth back in.

Frostbite works just as hard as Endeavor. Why shouldn’t she be number two?

Frostbite is a menace to society and I like her. She should be on top.

Idk. Frostbite seems more REAL to me than Endeavor. Like, she seems like an actual PERSON. Endeavor is kept on lockdown by his PR. He hasn’t tweeted much since the bi lesbian fiasco, and idk. I respect him, so much, but Frostbite is just more relatable.

Why shouldn’t the girlies win? Frostbite has worked hard for this. Let her have it.

The general consensus was Enji was old, tired, worn out. He didn’t understand that. He wasn’t done yet. He wasn’t done reaching for the glory. He wasn’t... old news. There was a lot left in him. He didn’t know how to be relatable, though. Fuyumi had the arrests, the looks, the charm, the everything he didn’t have. He just...

He almost felt like he should retire. He had been surpassed by one of his children. Isn’t that what every father wanted? But... He couldn’t. Not yet. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t feel like he could retire. He still had his children to raise, and sure, he had enough money to last their lifetime and then some, but... He couldn’t stop scrolling.

Fuyumi had surpassed him. They were waiting to go on stage, where All Might would give a speech, again, again, always again, and he would be standing as number three. He felt like he was drifting in the void, alone and friendless. He had no one he could talk to about this. Sort through his feelings on the matter. It was bitterly cold out, and all he could think was that maybe Fuyumi had made it through because her quirk was more suited to the winter.

For months, he had felt the pressure, her snapping at his heels. He had felt the building pressure, and he had tried to ignore it. He didn’t let her goad him into fights nowadays, on the rare occasions she did swing by. Which she rarely did. He had felt the pressure, and he had worked that much harder for it, cut down on the boys’ training time, but...

He didn’t know. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like this at all. He wasn’t old. He wasn’t tired. He wasn’t worn out. He had been number two for so long it felt like an immutable fact, a reality of existence. All Might was number one, and he was number two. That was the way it had always been. And now, it wasn’t the case anymore. He was number three. He was number three. Hawks was just behind him, and he didn’t know if he should cry or laugh. He didn’t feel hurt. His own child had surpassed him. Wasn’t that what he always wanted? He knew he would be bumped down by one of his children one of these days. It was meant to be Shouto, but all he could think about was Fuyumi in the backyard, pushing, pushing, pushing, training her quirk with angry eyes and gritted teeth. She would go until her hands and feet were numb from the cold, and he would have to go out there and warm her up.

She always got pissed when he did that, but she let him do it.

He thought of that one occasion he took her to the Hero Gala, which was supposed to happen tomorrow. She danced with... Jaeger, wasn’t it? Yes, it was Jaeger. Galant’s daughter, and Galant had been pissed. Enji was used as little more than a deterrent, because Galant was mortally terrified of him, and he had told her after... What had he told her?

You don’t have time for things like that.

If I’m not aiming for number one, I have time for a lot, apparently.

Even if you can’t hit number one, you should still act like you’re aiming for it.

They had said that to each other, and he had danced with her after it. The photos of the event had gone viral, and people had fawned over her and declared that one day, she would be in the top ten.

Had anyone seen this coming? He didn’t know. He didn’t see it coming. He sort of understood that he lost a lot of followers, due to allowing Yuzuka to transition, but... He had lost a lot of fans. And he hadn’t banked on losing over half of them due to the fact that Yuzuka was trans. Of course, he had known it could happen, but focus groups said the left wasn’t leaning with him as much as he’d like due to his silence on multiple issues. The right wanted him to be quiet. The left didn’t, and he had failed to adjust to the new fanbase.

He just... all he could think about was Fuyumi’s anger. Would this quell it? Would this make her worse? He didn’t know. She was so jaded, so bitter, like all of his children, and he didn’t know what to do about it.

She was walking backstage now, and he locked his phone and slipped it into his pocket. She stopped a good three feet away from him, staring him down, and he stared back at her in silence. A long pause stretched out, before she spoke.

“I beat you,” she said, and then, “Does it hurt?”

Enji didn’t know what she wanted him to say. He didn’t know what she wanted to hear from him. Somewhere in her eyes was a little girl screaming at him to see her, and he stared down at her in silence.

“I’m proud of you,” he said, and she faltered, something he couldn’t recognize flickering in her gray eyes. She looked like her mother, and something in his heart ached.

“It’s a little too late to be telling me that,” she said quietly, and Enji frowned. He thought to argue, but she was already walking away.

He would let her have this year. He would adjust. He would get used to this new fanbase, and he would do his best to overcome her. She got the number two spot this year, but she wouldn’t be getting it again. He would figure out how to work with this new fanbase, maybe throw his support behind gay marriage, do something. He had to be more... real. He didn’t really know how to do that, but he would figure it out. Tamura would help him, he hoped. He had to have faith in Tamura. He had taken a blow this year, but he would bounce back from it.

He had to believe he would bounce back from it.

“Hey, big guy,” someone said behind him, and he half turned to take in the sight of Hawks.

The boy, because he really was just a boy, stared up at him, and Enji stared down at him. A long silence unfurled, because Enji had never spoken to Hawks before, and then Hawks grinned at him.

“I’m a big fan, you know?” he said, and Enji hesitated, because he didn’t seem the type. “It’s been a rough year, huh?”

“It’s been mixed,” Enji replied, and Hawks paused.

“I had a question for you,” he said, and Enji silently tilted his head.

“What is it?” he asked gruffly, and Hawks pursed his lips.

“Do you regret it?” he asked. “Supporting Yuzuka.”

That was a... very personal question, and Enji first thought to censure him, but instead, he hesitated. He knew people would be asking him that very question. He knew it would be a common interview question, and he still had to go to the Heroes’ Gala. Everyone would be wanting to know: do you regret it? It wasn’t insane to say Yuzuka coming out was the start of his downfall. He knew it was his downfall, but...

“No,” he said. “I don’t.”

You’ll have to bury another son.

He wouldn’t take any of it back. He wouldn’t take back a damn thing, and he thought about how as the months wore on, Yuzuka was less angry, less snippy, less pissed. He still was a filthy instigator, always goading Shouto on, trying to get him pissed with him, but...

Well.

That would probably never change.

Enji didn’t regret it, no. He had already lost one child to his chasing of number one, and he wasn’t going to lose another. Yuzuka probably still thought he did it for the charts, and Enji was not about to tell him he did it for him. He wouldn’t believe him, anyway.

“He starts testosterone soon, no? It’s been nearly a year since he came out,” Hawks said, and Enji’s brain was like a record scratch.

Oh. He did start testosterone soon. On his birthday, to be exact. January 11th. Enji had scheduled the appointment and not thought much of it, but now his skin was crawling at the realization that his son was starting testosterone. He almost wanted to take it all back in that moment, but...

His eyes trailed over to Fuyumi, talking to Miruko, and his heart stuttered. She really did look just like her mother. She would never forgive him if he didn’t let him go on T, and Enji had given her enough reasons to hate him. This was her crowning glory, and it would be sullied if she had to get upset all over again because he canceled Yuzuka’s gender specialist appointment. He couldn’t upset her like that. She had worked so hard for this, and he knew it was to spite him, but...

It’s a little too late to be telling me that.

“Alright, it’s time to go on stage!” the tech said, and everyone assembled themselves in a neat line to follow All Might onto the stage. Enji looked down at Fuyumi, and reminisced that she was so much rage, packed into a tiny package. She really was so small. He didn’t know how to confront that. They all proceeded on stage to a roar from the crowd, and he couldn’t stop staring at Fuyumi. She had busted her ass for this, and he knew he should be more upset, but he was just... tired. Maybe she would stop fighting with him so much now. Maybe she would be less angry now. He hoped so.

He dearly hoped so.

Chapter Text

Fuyumi sunk down in the bath with her knees drawn to her chin, glaring over the top of the bubbles. Dad hadn’t looked at as devastated as she would have liked. She didn’t know how he looked, but he wasn’t devastated. She had failed to hurt him, and what was all of this for? She didn’t know. Maybe he was in shock. Maybe that was it. Or maybe he was hiding his reactions from her, as per usual.

She was angry, stewing in her irritation as she soaked in the warm bath, and she had to go to the Heroes’ Gala tomorrow. She was going to get all dressed up, primed and pampered, and she didn’t want to go. She would rather be on patrol, but she was the number two pro now, and she had to make an appearance. Patrolling tomorrow was for lower level pros, not her. She might just blow it off and go on patrol anyway. She didn’t want to sit on her laurels. She wanted to do something.

The bathroom door creaked open, and Nakano peered in, a glass of rose wine in hand. Fuyumi blinked at her behind the sheet mask on her face, and Nakano made her way inside, bumping the bathroom door shut with her hip.

“Hey,” she said gently, and Fuyumi made a vague grumbling noise. “You okay?”

“Gimme the wine,” Fuyumi muttered, and Nakano held it out to her. Fuyumi took it, and sipped at it. The rose went down easy, her favorite, and she sunk down further in the bath until her chin was just above the water.

“You’ve been angry ever since you came home,” Nakano said gently, and Fuyumi glared at the wall.

“He wasn’t mad,” she muttered. He wasn’t fucking mad, and what was the point of all of this? What was the fucking point? She didn’t know, and it was making her unreasonably angry. She was pissed, and she should be happy right now. She had knocked a man out of the number two spot that he had held for decades. She should be ecstatic, because they all said it couldn’t be done, and she proved them wrong, but she was pissed. She was so, so pissed, and she didn’t know how to cope with it.

Nakano was silent for a moment before she sat down with her back to the tub. She was still a sidekick, but she would be going pro in a few weeks. She would probably hit the top ten in her first year, and Fuyumi thought she shouldn’t be wasting her time on her like this. It was busy work, setting up an agency, and Fuyumi knew her emotional issues took up a lot of time.

“What are you thinking about, huh?” Nakano asked, and Fuyumi took another sip of the rose.

“What the point of all of this is,” she muttered, and Nakano was quiet, considering. Fuyumi could practically hear her thinking, and then Nakano spoke.

“When I met you, you were nothing but rage wrapped up in a tiny package,” Nakano said, and why did she have to bring up Fuyumi’s height right now? Fuyumi knew she was shorter than her, she didn’t need to mention it. “You were pissed, at the whole world, and all I could think was ‘she’s beautiful’, but...”

“But, what?” Fuyumi asked, and Nakano looked back at her.

“Sometimes I wonder who you are outside of that anger,” she said quietly, and Fuyumi was silent. “I’m not... There’s so many other reasons to be a hero. Don’t let your dad’s lack of a reaction discourage you. You made history tonight.”

Fuyumi was silent, gripping the wine glass, and frost was spreading across the ice from her fingertips. The temperature of the bath was dropping, and she swallowed.

“I don’t know who I am outside of this anger,” she said, and Nakano smiled at her with genuine kindness in her eyes.

“Why don’t we dedicate this year to finding out?” she asked, and Fuyumi swallowed.

“I don’t deserve you,” she said mournfully, and Nakano sighed.

“You deserve more than you think,” she said, and Fuyumi was quiet. She just... She thought about Yuzuka in that moment. His quiet plea to be better than this, and she wished she could be better than this, this anger in her chest.

Dad would never apologize for what he did to Touya. That wasn’t how he operated, but he had changed over this year. Something about Yuzuka threatening to kill himself knocked something straight in his head, and all she could think was he was different. He didn’t seem to care about the charts as much. Spent more time with her little brothers, though it was still training. He was training Yuzuka, and she never thought she would see him do such a thing.

Something had been knocked loose, but she couldn’t help but feel like this family was a wobbly wheel, about to get knocked off its axle. She was terrified. Natsuo was getting more and more angry, robbed of time with Yuzuka, which miraculously had kept him calm for so many years. Shouto was talking more in the group chat, though, and Yuzuka was pulling back from all of them. She had no idea what was going through his head, but...

She just...

“I’m scared I won’t know who I am without this anger,” she said lowly, and Nakano was silent. Fuyumi took in her long hair, pulled back in a ponytail, her honey brown eyes, her tanned skin and high cheekbones and sharp brows. She was beautiful, and Fuyumi had no idea what she was doing with her. She was in one of Fuyumi’s crop tops and short shorts, cross legged on the ground, her long legs folded under herself, and Fuyumi really needed to ask her to move in with her.

“I’ll still recognize you,” Nakano said softly, and Fuyumi’s eyes welled with tears.

“Ever since I was twelve, I’ve been trying to hurt him,” she whispered, and a sob bubbled up. “I’ve been trying to make him feel even a fraction of what I felt when Mom told me Touya wasn’t coming home, and it’s all... nothing. Meaningless. I can’t hurt him. I took number two from him, and he told me he was proud of me.”

He was proud of her, and it was the worst feeling in the world. She wanted him to be enraged, devastated, a hole burned in his chest from the pain, but he just... didn’t. He didn’t care. He didn’t hurt, didn’t feel pain, didn’t suffer. She had taken number two from him, and he didn’t care. What else was she supposed to do? What more could she take from him to make him hurt? He would just think he won if she took number one, and she couldn’t face down All Might. All Might would be number one until he retired, and that was the end of the matter. She didn’t know why Dad tried, what drove him, and after so long, she didn’t think he knew, either. He was five kids deep, and one was dead.

A desperate sob burst out, and some of the rose splashed into the water, and she started to cry in earnest. She sobbed, and Nakano sat there and listened to her, and she wondered what the point of it all was. This was the only reason she became a hero, and she couldn’t just... walk away now. She couldn’t walk away. She had more than enough money to go back to college, but she didn’t want to. She wanted to be a hero, and she didn’t even know why anymore. Was it something about a child looking up at her with stars in their eyes? Was it something about a desperate mother thanking her for saving her son? Was it an old woman smiling at her as she walked down the street, secure and safe in the knowledge that she was there if something happened? What was it?

She didn’t know, but now that she had been a hero, she didn’t want to leave it behind. She felt more human, more like a person and less a vessel of rage, than she had in a long, long time. She had friends. She had things going for her. She just... she needed to stop fucking crying.

“Do you want to order in tonight?” Nakano asked, and Fuyumi nodded, sobbing desperately. She normally cooked with Nakano when she was over, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She didn’t want to do it. “Okay. I’m going to go order something, alright?”

“Alright,” Fuyumi sobbed, and Nakano got up and made her way out of the bathroom. Fuyumi continued to sob, big, heaving sobs, and shakily tried to take a sip of her wine.

She hated this.

She hated this.

Gods, why couldn’t she be normal about this? She was the number two pro in Japan, and here she was, sobbing her eyes out in a fucking bubble bath, just ruining her skincare, and she didn’t know what to do.

She was angry and upset and had nowhere to put it. Should she even try to maintain number two? Would it hurt worse for Dad in one year, two years, three years? Would he get frustrated? Would he get angry? When was she going to be enough for him? For her entire three years of high school, she had screamed at him to see her. And all of it was for naught.

I’m proud of you.

Gods, why couldn’t he say that when she needed to hear it? When she was a little girl, begging with her father to be more than this? When she wanted him to look at her the way he did at billboards, with all the love in his eyes, and gods, why couldn’t he love her when it mattered? She had seen the way she looked at him, pride flickering in his eyes, and all she could think was it was not enough.

It was too little, too late.

Everything about this damn family was too little, too late. Gods. Fuck. Touya had just wanted to be a hero, and here she was, being a hero in his stead. That was what was really going on, wasn’t it? Her brother couldn’t be a hero, so she did it for him.

That would just have to be her motivation. Wouldn’t it be better for her to just not care about Dad at all? Would Touya want to see her sobbing her eyes out on the night of her victory, like this? She didn’t know. She did not know, and he was dead, so it didn’t matter.

He still haunted her memories, and she just...

She took another sip of rose and set the glass on the edge of the tub. Numbly, she got out of the tub and started to drain it as she peeled off the sheet mask. She had already taken a shower, so she just needed to dry off and get changed. Gods. Gods, she felt like shit.

She just...

Dad didn’t matter. She needed to define what being a hero meant, independent of him and his influence. She needed to forget about hurting him, because he couldn’t be hurt. He could not be hurt, and it was infuriating, but...

But.

Fuyumi looked at her red rimmed gray eyes in the mirror and sniffled, suds slipping down her body and pooling around her feet. She needed to be more than this angry little girl screaming at her dad to get pissed. She needed to be more than that.

This year, she was going to figure out what being a hero meant to her. No one else. Just her.

Chapter Text

Yuzuka had a massive, hard lump in his leg, and he could not stop rubbing it. There was testosterone in there, and he had never really cared about birthdays before, but this birthday had been pretty fucking great. They took out the puberty blockers and gave him his first testosterone injection, and he was pretty damn happy for once. He stopped rubbing the testosterone injection site and made his way into the kitchen, where Fuyumi and Natsuo were cooking. Training was canceled today, on account of it being his and Shouto’s birthday, which was new. Shouto’s training had never been canceled for something like a birthday before.

“Hey,” he said as he opened the fridge door, looking for something to drink, and there was a cake box in there his eyes skittered over and didn’t fully process. He grabbed a can of soda and popped it open, and Dad called from down the hallway.

“THAT BETTER NOT BE YUZUKA OR SHOUTO!” he thundered, and Yuzuka ignored him and took a sip of the soda.

It had been nearly a year since he started homeschooling, and he couldn’t say he liked it, but it was fine. He had somehow managed to repair his relationship with Shouto, though he still had lingering resentment about the burn scar, but he couldn’t complain too much. He felt calmer being homeschooled, honestly. Kids didn’t stare as much, and he was... well, he was fine. He didn’t have to deal with the constant bullying and derisiveness. He had always stuck out, and Japanese school children didn’t like that. You weren’t supposed to stick out. You were meant to conform.

Even so, Shouto as annoying as hell. He would make little comments here and there, practically designed to get under Yuzuka’s skin, and it was annoying as hell. And he poked. He poked a lot, and was altogether extremely fucking annoying. He liked to get under Yuzuka’s skin and piss him off, and Yuzuka supposed when you were only around one person, all fucking day long, you started doing insane things to get their attention.

Speak of the devil, Shouto was coming into the dining room, and he stopped and stared at Yuzuka. Yuzuka tilted his head, a silent question, and Shouto bristled.

“You’re not supposed to be drinking that,” he said, and Yuzuka took another long sip of his soda. Shouto made a beeline for the fridge and took out his own, popping it open and taking a sip, and Fuyumi rolled her eyes.

“Can you get out from underfoot?” she asked. “We’re cooking here. It won’t be ready for another hour.”

“Why’s it taking so long?” Yuzuka asked, and she shooed them out the door.

“Because it takes time, ” she said, and Yuzuka followed Shouto out of the room.

The two of them were left alone in the living room, and Yuzuka flopped on the couch and started up the TV. He had been watching Castlevania: Nocturne, and he was pretty sure the Belmont boy was going to figure out his magic again, so he wanted to watch that.

Shouto sat down stiffly, and Yuzuka started up the TV and switched over to Netflix. He started up the show, and Shouto drew his knees to his chin and stared with wide eyes at the TV. Yuzuka settled back, one leg propped up on the couch, the other swinging free, and Shouto was quiet as the intro played out. They had been watching it together, before Dad got home from work, and Shouto seemed to like it. Yuzuka had no idea. His eyes were as dull as ever, but they were focused.

“I think I’m gay,” Shouto said, out of fucking nowhere, and Yuzuka stared at him.

“What?” he asked faintly.

“I mean, I like Richter, but Maria doesn’t do anything for me,” Shouto said, and Yuzuka continued to stare at him. “And Olrox... Olrox is pretty. I like the female characters, but not... not like that.”

Yuzuka continued to stare at him, and Shouto looked over at him.

“Don’t tell me you’re trans and homophobic,” he said, and Yuzuka could sincerely not tell if that was a joke or not.

“I’m not, I just... Huh?”

“Also, I’m pretty sure we’re getting the fruitcake genes from Dad,” Shouto continued, and Yuzuka started coughing, turning bright red, and Shouto prickled. “Come on. There is no heterosexual explanation for his obsession with All Might.”

“What?” Yuzuka wheezed, and Shouto set his jaw and paused the show.

“I’m serious. I think Dad’s bi,” he insisted, and Yuzuka wiped at the tears springing to his eyes.

“I— What? ”

“You can’t be this surprised,” Shouto said, defensively, and Yuzuka coughed a final time, more of a hack, and looked over at him.

“Shouto, what the hell. Is this what you’re thinking about in training?”

“Yes,” Shouto replied, and Yuzuka paused, because Dad did have some homoerotic tension with the image of All Might, but...

“Yeah, he’s probably bi,” Yuzuka agreed, because Shouto was right. There was no heterosexual explanation for that. “Does that mean we exist because of a crush from a bisexual in denial?”

Both of them were silent for a moment, and then Shouto, regrettably, opened his mouth.

“Does that make All Might some kind of weird pseudo-father?” he asked, and Yuzuka blinked.

“I... don’t think so?”

“Well, there has to be some kind of relation to All Might,” Shouto argued.

“It’s too early in the morning for this,” Yuzuka grumbled, and Shouto stared at him.

“It’s five pm.”

“Still too early,” Yuzuka said and slammed back more soda. The can was empty, and he put it on the end table. “Back to Castlevania.”

“So, you’re not going to react to me being gay?” Shouto asked, and Yuzuka blinked at him.

“Do I need to?” he asked, and Shouto frowned.

“You should,” he said, a bit demanding, and Yuzuka considered it for a moment.

“I think Fuyumi’s gay,” he said, and Shouto snorted.

“Oh, Fuyumi’s definitely gay, but she’s never going to come out to us, ” he said, and Yuzuka snorted.

“What about Natsuo?”

“I think he’s bi,” Shouto said. “Dad’s only hope for grandchildren.”

“Hey, I can have kids,” Yuzuka pointed out, and Shouto rolled his eyes.

“You wouldn’t, though,” he said. “Can you imagine dealing with a mini version of you for the rest of your life?”

“I...” Yuzuka trailed off, and he had never considered the consequences of being child free before, but... Yeah, he was going to be child free. No way in hell was he ever dealing with a mini Yuzuka. Especially if she was a girl, trans or cis. The horror.

“Thought so,” Shouto said smugly, and Yuzuka sat back on the couch and considered it all. Yeah, their family was nothing but a bunch of fruits. The only straight one was probably Mom. Poor woman, married to a bisexual who was more committed to All Might than her.

“I’m glad you’re gay,” Yuzuka said, and looked over at Shouto. “I wouldn’t be able to deal with a straight brother.”

“No, that would be awful,” Shouto agreed, and the two sat in silence for a moment as they processed... all of that.

They only existed because Dad had a crush on All Might and had no idea how to deal with it. Gods. Fuck. That was... Yuzuka didn’t know what to do with that. He had no idea what to do with that. Should he stop to consider that, or should he move on with his life? He thought he was going to move on with his life, but—

There were Dad’s heavy footsteps in the hall, and both of them looked over their shoulder at Dad looming there, looking thunderous and annoyed.

“What are you two watching?” he asked, and Yuzuka started up the show again.

“Castlevania: Nocturne. It’s based on a video game,” he said, and Dad crossed his arms and stood there for a moment. A thought occurred to Yuzuka, and he wondered how Dad would react if he put on Drag Race. The show played with the Japanese dub, and Yuzuka grabbed a blanket and threw it over his lap. Dad continued standing there, and Yuzuka thought about running him off, but...

Oh, well.

“This is too violent,” Dad finally said, and Yuzuka gave him a weird look. He opened his mouth and shut it, and then he just decided to be a bitch.

“Hey, do you think you have a weird psychosexual relationship with All Might and are repressing a crush?” he asked, and Dad stared at him. A long silence unfurled, and there were no thoughts behind Dad’s eyes. Yuzuka could practically hear the dial up noise, and Shouto was staring at Yuzuka in shock, and Dad didn’t say anything for a long, long moment.

“No,” he finally said. “No, I don’t.”

With that, he turned and fled, and Yuzuka turned back to the TV with a smug smile on his face.

“You did that on purpose,” Shouto accused him, and Yuzuka shrugged.

“S’fine,” he said. “It got rid of him, didn’t it?”

“He’s going to have a crisis now,” Shouto accused him. “You should have left it alone.”

“I think he’s had relations with men in his youth,” Yuzuka said, and Shouto stared at him. “What?”

“You... you’re probably right, but I don’t want to picture that,” Shouto said, and Yuzuka grinned.

“Shush,” he said, and turned back to the TV. Yeah. Dad definitely knew another man’s body.

.

.

.

.

.

Yuzuka was less angry nowadays, but he was still a fucking problem, Enji thought as he stared blankly at the wall. A what with All Might? What the fuck was he talking about? He didn’t want to yell at him, it was literally his birthday, but what the fuck kind of conversations was he having with Shouto? Enji didn’t want All Might. He wanted to overcome him. If it was anyone else in number one, he would want to overcome them, too.

Just... what? What kind of conversations were his children having about him? Sure, Enji had fumbled with men in bathroom stalls and supply closets before he married Rei, but that had been ages ago, and just experimentation. He had always been straight. Psychosexual relationship with All Might? No, absolutely not. Their imaginations were running wild, and he thought he could blame the testosterone on this. The first day Yuzuka got on T and he started asking weird questions like this. What the actual fuck.

He was still staring blankly at the wall before he opened up his laptop and started checking his emails. Fuyumi was over, and she hadn’t picked a fight, and he thought he might be able to enjoy this day if Yuzuka hadn’t made it so weird. With a sigh, he checked his emails, and then he paused at the email from Tamura.

Hello, Endeavor

The Coalition of Parents of Transgender Youth want you to speak at their upcoming march to end the practice of sterilization in Japan. As you know, a transgender person must be sterilized and have a complete transition in order to be considered the gender they identify with. They would like you to speak on what it means to have a trans child. Can I pencil you in? It’s in two weeks, on January 25th. You’ll be there the whole day.

Tamura

He wanted him to... do what? Enji almost wanted to say no, but at the same time, his refusal to engage with the LGBT community was exactly why Fuyumi overtook him the first time. But, what would he even say? What could he say? He could write a speech, had training on it, but...

He sat back. Two weeks was not enough time to prepare a speech. But, at the same time, he had never really considered what it meant for Yuzuka that he had to be sterilized. What if Yuzuka wanted kids? He had no idea if Yuzuka wanted kids, but...

Wasn’t sterilization illegal in Japan, anyway? Under the Eugenics Act. He was so confused, and he would have to do research. The idea of the government mandating that his son be sterilized for the sake of changing his gender marker... He didn’t like that. He didn’t like that at all.

With a sigh, he started drafting his response. He might as well. He needed to be more politically active, anyways.

Chapter Text

Enji had never done something like this before. He wouldn’t say he was nervous, but he knew he would be reviled for it. It was definitely a shift, from going from apolitical to this, but he was here, at the march, with his speech prepared and rolling through his mind. He had written it in a week, and memorized it in that time, and now he just had to deliver it. He did not want to deliver it.

There were a lot of people with brightly colored hair and facial piercings here, and he didn’t want to think about Yuzuka one day getting piercings. He didn’t want to think about that at all, but he probably wouldn’t bat an eye at rainbow hair. There were a lot of chants in the streets as they marched down the lane, and he felt weird and exposed. He had never done something like this, and he didn’t feel secure in his decision. It was less about upping his rank and more about the fact he didn’t want his son to be forcibly sterilized by this intensely transphobic government. Even so, participating in the march alone was terrifying. He didn’t like it, and he had to wonder what in the hell he was doing here.

There were heroes here, not participating in the march, more to protect the protestors, and he had no idea what he was supposed to do if things got nasty. He was in his civilian clothes for this, so he supposed nothing, but how was he supposed to know? He didn’t know anything. All he could think was he had finally allowed Yuzuka social media on a burner account, not affiliated with his name or anything, under a pseudonym, and he would likely see the images from this march. He may even be watching the videos.

They were reaching the end of their march, and they had the microphones set up, and he felt anxiety worm its way into his gut. He didn’t often give speeches. That was more something All Might did; he didn’t like to participate. This was entirely out of his wheelhouse, and he didn’t want to do it. He would have preferred to just participate in the march and call it a day. Why they wanted him to give a speech was beyond him.

The young trans boy next to him, who really should have been in school, came to a stop and grinned up at him.

“Ready, Endeavor?” he asked, his face flush and full of youth and life. He was smiling in a way that Enji had never seen Yuzuka smile, except when he was about to say something mean or devious, and it made Enji’s gut clench. The boy had brightly dyed blue hair and makeup done, glitter all over his cheeks and black eyeliner on his water line, and Enji couldn’t help but wonder what the point of transitioning was if you were going to dress like a girl anyway. Maybe he was just nonbinary or something.

Enji said nothing, and the boy darted into the crowd. They formed a circle around the mic and linked arms, and Enji made his way up to the mic and tapped it once to check it. It was on, and he cleared his throat.

“My name is Endeavor,” he said, and cleared his throat again. “But today I’m coming to you as Enji Todoroki, a parent.”

He paused, trying to remember what else he was meant to say, and then, he began to speak.

“This past year has been one of the most difficult of my life. My son, Yuzuka Todoroki, was outed as trans in a viral social media post, where I had to confirm his gender identity to the masses before he was ready. He was subsequently banned from every school in Musutafu and I have had to home school him. He has been the subject of social media harassment campaigns, negative press, and death and rape threats. He only recently turned fourteen and started testosterone.”

He paused, letting that sink in, before he continued.

“None of this came as a shock to me,” he said, and tried to fight against the dry throat, because why was he even doing this? He was probably going to go even further down in the ranks, but what the fuck. What the fuck. The government wanted to sterilize his child. “As you know, I have multiple ongoing lawsuits, against adults, that thought it appropriate to call my child a predator, deserving of rape and death. I’m sure none of this came as a shock to all of you, as well.”

He paused again, and then he tried to remember what else he was going to say. This was hard. He had never been vulnerable with the media before, but if this was what it took for his child to not be sterilized against his will to get the correct gender marker on his IDs...

“The life of a trans person, I have learned, is a difficult one, full of ups and downs. Honestly, as a parent, I don’t know if it pays off. If it’s worth it. Sometimes I worry about him and all of the threats. Sometimes, I worry about what his future will look like as a trans person that wants to be a pro. If he will be okay, if he will be safe. The life of a pro is one of sacrifice, and I worry he will give and give until he has nothing left, to an ungrateful media that nitpicks everything he does and an ungrateful populace that believes he shouldn’t exist.”

He did worry. He worried a lot, and he didn’t let onto it, but he wanted Yuzuka to be okay. Spending so much time with him like he had over the past year had taught him that he was lacking in many ways, and he just wanted to be there for his child.

“To be a parent of a trans child, you have to go all in. You can’t take shortcuts or half ass it. You have to be present, in all matters, and you have to love them enough to trust them that they will be happy one day,” he said, and that was the hardest part, wasn’t it? Believing Yuzuka would be happy one day, even as he still looked at him with anger in his eyes, lingering resentment about Touya. He wanted to believe Yuzuka would be okay, that Shouto would be okay, but sometimes, he didn’t know. “It’s not for the faint of heart, and all I can think is their lives are hard and complicated enough without the government imposing sanctions on their health. Forcibly sterilizing an entire population is eugenics. I have no idea if Yuzuka wants children one day. He might, he might not, but I want him to make that choice for himself, not for anyone else, or because he feels like he has to if he wants to be legally recognized as a man. He shouldn’t be faced with the decision of his gender or his family. I was never faced with that choice when I chose to have children, and I cannot fathom being confronted with a choice. If someone looks like a man, acts like a man, passes as a man, then why shouldn’t they be allowed to be a man? What does what happens underneath their pants have to do with it? Furthermore, I don’t even know why we have legal genders on IDs, anyway. There’s no reason to have them. They shouldn’t be there in the first place, but if we are going to include them, they shouldn’t be so difficult to change.”

He had no idea why he added in that little rant at the end, but he did, and he was going to stick to it. Oh, well. Tamura could get on his ass about not sticking to the script later.

“Yuzuka is less angry nowadays,” he continued. “He’s doing better, and I want him to continue to do better. If I have to advocate for him now, to ensure that he has a brighter future, I’m going to do that. Thank you for your time.”

The speech was done, and he stepped down from the podium as a trans woman made her way up. He dispersed into the crowd, and a young man with curly brown hair and honey brown eyes sidled up next to him.

“Hell of a speech, Endeavor,” he said, and Enji looked down at him. It took a second to place him, and when he did, Enji’s eyes widened slightly.

FUNgi. One of the only openly trans heroes in Japan. UA graduate, with a devastating quirk and devastating arrest record. He was in the top twenty, and projected to enter the top ten in a few years. He had only gone pro about a year ago, around the same time Yuzuka came out, and he had already worked his way up to number fifteen. He was living proof Yuzuka could hit the top ten one day, and Enji just stared at him for a moment.

“FUNgi,” he said gruffly, and the young man gave him a wicked grin.

“People are taking photos, try not to look so much like you sucked a lemon,” he said, and Enji blinked.

“That’s just my face,” he deadpanned, and FUNgi laughed. It was a bright, musical laugh, and Enji paused. He had never met the younger pro before. He was, what, twenty five? Something like that? And he tended to keep to himself. He hadn’t gone on many raids, only Nedzu’s, which Enji avoided religiously, because Nedzu’s raids were a fucking nightmare of logistics, and he was too old for that shit.

“You didn’t bring Yuzuka to the march?” FUNgi asked, and Enji paused.

“He doesn’t need more media time,” he grumbled, because Yuzuka had social media now, and he could only imagine the disaster if he was on the news again. It would already be a mess when this hit the media, which it probably already had, the news was here. He didn’t even want to consider how much worse it would be if he was visibly in public.

“Mm,” FUNgi replied and crossed his arms. Enji eyed him quietly, and FUNgi tilted his head. “Probably for the best. If it gets violent...”

“It probably won’t get violent,” Enji grunted, and FUNgi eyed him.

“It might,” he pointed out. “What are you gonna do if it does?”

Enji had no idea. He knew what it was like to be on the other side of protests, but the police here weren’t even in their riot gear. He didn’t think it’d get violent. It typically only escalated when police did, and they weren’t going to escalate outside of their riot gear. Besides, there were heroes here, and heroes were actually trained in de-escalation.

The trans woman came back down, and FUNgi gave him a grin.

“That’s my cue,” he said and pushed his way to the front, and Enji straightened up as FUNgi cleared his throat into the mic.

“Hi,” he said slyly, and cheers rose up. “I’m Hamori Enoki. You may recognize me as the hero FUNgi.”

More cheers rose up, and he leaned on the podium.

“When I came out, twelve years ago, the world was a lot different back then,” he said, and Enji blinked. So, he came out when he was thirteen, too? “My parents didn’t let me transition. I had to attend UA as a girl, and I hated them for it, but now that I look back on it, I can see why they tried to control the situation as much as possible. They were terrified of the future facing me. Of course, what they did did more harm than good, but parents make mistakes.”

His gaze fell on Enji, and he smiled.

“It’s amazing today to see kids on testosterone and estrogen,” he said, and Enji crossed his arms. “It feels like the world is moving forward, but we can make it move a bit faster.”

He wrapped his hands around the edge of the podium, and then he began to speak.

“The world is changing. Trans support is at an all time high in this past year. Only 22% of the population disapprove of us, and that’s going to continue to change. I think we can get that even lower, and in order to do that, we need government support. It comes down to one simple thing: whether the government will do the right thing for its citizens, or the wrong thing. Because, make no mistake, this is the right thing for us. We know our experiences best, and we know our reality best. I’m still legally female, even after transitioning from the age of eighteen. I’m twenty-five years old now, and have no plans to get bottom surgery. I want kids.”

His eyes met Enji’s again, and what did that mean?

“I have been faced with the hardest decision of my life, and I shouldn’t have to make that decision,” he continued, licking his lips. “I have no partner, no lover, but I should be able to make that decision for my own future. I want a future where trans kids can grow up to have beautiful families, the same as their peers, without having to choose between their transition and their future as a parent. I want them to be able to make those decisions for themselves, not because the government told them to. Japan stresses conformity. We all know this. And as people that do not conform, we know how hard it is to exist in this world as trans people. I think we can all work together for a better future, where you can simply change your gender marker and move on with your life, without invasive, costly surgeries and the knowledge that you will never have the same rights as your cis counterparts.”

He rapped his hands on the podium and leaned back.

“Let’s make a better future for the trans youth coming behind us, yeah?”

A cheer rose up, and he hopped down from the podium and made his way back to Enji. Enji... felt heat under his collar, and color rose in his cheeks of unknown origin.

Right.

His kids thought he was bi.

Shit. It wasn’t experimentation, was it?

Chapter Text

Enji watched from the bed as Hamori pulled on his underwear and got his pants up and done. He had no idea why he just did that. He and Rei had an agreement, but he had never acted on it, not in the eight years she had been gone. They would probably divorce when she got out, but...

He had never acted on it before, and Hamori looked over his shoulder at him.

“You...” he trailed off, and Enji studied him. He was genuinely beautiful. All smooth lines and tanned skin, with ridges from his top surgery inscribed into his skin. “You’re a good dad, you know that?”

“I don’t want to be talking about my parenting with a sex partner,” Enji grumbled, and Hamori let out a laugh.

“No, seriously. You’re letting your kid transition. That’s unheard of,” he said. “Even now, people don’t do that.”

“It was more of a situation of him holding a gun to his head,” Enji said quietly, and Hamori paused. “He threatened to slit his wrists at school. I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t lose another child.”

He had never admitted that to anyone but Tamura before, and Hamori was quiet before he pulled on his shirt. Enji watched that beautiful body disappear under clothes before he hauled himself to his feet.

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked as he pulled on his own underwear, and Hamori gestured vaguely.

“Sure,” he said, and Enji was quiet for a moment.

“Is it worth it?” he asked, because that was all that was on his mind. Was it worth it? Was Yuzuka going to be happy? Was he doing the right thing?

Hamori was quiet for a moment before he sighed and sat down on the rumpled bed.

“I...” he trailed off. “Ultimately, that’s up to the individual person, but... It is, yeah.”

Hamori was quiet for a long, long moment.

“You know, it’s funny, people say testosterone makes you more aggressive, more angry, but I have never been so calm,” he continued, and Enji thought about how Yuzuka had calmed down a lot since getting on puberty blockers. It was too soon to tell if testosterone would make him more angry, but... “I was so damn bitter when I was in high school. Bitter, angry, furious at the world. It’s a miracle I made any friends.”

Enji took that in, and then he tilted his head.

“So, it is worth it?” he asked, and Hamori fell back on the bed and lifted his hand to the ceiling, spread his fingers and looked at the light from between them.

“It’s... being trans is a thing of beauty,” he said. “I won’t say it’s not hard, especially when you’re public facing. But, it’s beautiful. There’s such a wide array of life experiences. Last month, I had to participate in a raid in India. I met hijra there, and they were the most beautiful people I’ve ever met. Always smiling, just glowing with pride, even though India doesn’t treat the same as they did historically. They were the most beautiful people I’ve ever met, and all I could think was I’m not alone. I feel like... people often think of the trans experience as tortured. We’re so often defined in the media by our suffering, not our joy. But, there is a lot of joy.”

He smiled and looked over at Enji.

“There’s so much joy, and I’m so happy you’re letting that kid experience boyhood,” he said, and Enji was quiet for a moment. “I know he threatened to kill himself, but you could have just institutionalized him for that and moved on. You didn’t have to do what you did.”

Enji hadn’t considered it, for even a minute. Institutionalizing him had not even been a thought in his mind, and he didn’t consider it even now. Yuzuka needed to be with his family, not locked up in a tiny room with a bare window set up high in the wall for sunlight. He had seen where Rei lived, and he didn’t want that for his child. She had moved on past that room, but...

Enji pulled on his shirt and turned to Hamori.

“Do you want to get lunch?” he asked. “I have... more questions.”

“At some point next week, sure,” Hamori said, and sat up. “I have to go fill out paperwork today.”

Enji had nothing to do after the march, because it had lasted till five pm, but he nodded all the same and pulled on his socks and jacket.

“Alright,” he said quietly, and Hamori eyed him.

“I’m not going to date you, though,” he said warningly, and Enji blinked.

“I... Oh,” he said, and wondered where that came from.

“Just saying, I’m fine with sex, but dating is a whole other ball game,” Hamori said with a laugh. “I’m not looking to be a stepfather at this age. Your kids would hate me.”

That was fair, and Enji wasn’t going to ask him out, either. He wasn’t even divorced from Rei yet, and wouldn’t be divorced from her until she was stable and out of the hospital. Besides, he didn’t want to explain that to the media.

“Alright,” Enji said gruffly, and got his shoes on. “Next week, Sunday?”

“Sunday sounds good to me,” Hamori said and stretched before he got his socks on and pulled on his jacket. “Here. Let me see your phone.”

Enji handed it over, and Hamori plugged in his phone number and sent himself a text.

“There we go,” Hamori said and turned for the door, and Enji’s eyes lingered on his tiny waist and admittedly shapely ass. “I’ll see you around, yeah?”

Enji had no idea he even went to India. He supposed he did do a few international raids, but he hadn’t heard of any.

“Why don’t you do more raids in Japan?” he asked, out of nowhere, and Hamori laughed.

“You have to have connections to do that, and so far, only Nedzu and Omen like me,” he said, and pulled open the door. “Save the questions for Sunday, yeah?”

So, people were transphobic towards him. Enji didn’t like that very much. He didn’t like that at all. But, there was nothing he could do about it, so he kept his mouth shut as Hamori swung out the door and closed it behind him. Enji was left stupidly standing alone in the middle of this love hotel, wondering what this meant for him, and then he shook himself and made his way out.

He did not have a psychosexual relationship with All Might, but the accusations of bisexuality might have some validity. He was not going to confirm that to his kids, though. They would be insufferable.

.

.

.

.

.

Yuzuka paused the video and let his phone fall on his chest as he stared at the ceiling. Dad hadn’t mentioned anything about him threatening to kill himself, and hadn’t even told Yuzuka he was going to the march. It would be nice if there was some goddamn communication in this household. He had no idea what was going on on a good day, and Dad had finished the march at five pm. It was now eight, and he still wasn’t home. Where the hell had he gone?

He rolled over with a groan and stared at the wall for a moment before Shouto slid open the door.

“Dad’s not back yet,” Shouto said in a deadpan, and Yuzuka stared at him with dead eyes.

“Noticed,” he deadpanned, and Shouto tilted his head.

“Want to go spar?” he asked, and Yuzuka hesitated. He didn’t want to work when Dad was not here to tell him to do so, but at the same time, he was bored.

“Dad went to a goddamn march today,” Yuzuka said, and Shouto blinked.

“Oh,” he said, and Yuzuka sat up, irritation flaring.

“He didn’t even tell me he was going,” he complained. “What the hell was he—”

“What kind of march?” Shouto interrupted, and Yuzuka snorted.

“End the forcible sterilization of my people,” he said dramatically and fell back. “I swear, if he only went because he knows he’s not getting grandbabies from Fuyumi—”

“What forcible sterilization?” Shouto asked in confusion, and Yuzuka stared at him for a long, long moment.

“The forcible sterilization that requires me to have a full hysterectomy and bottom surgery in order to change my gender marker,” he deadpanned, and Shouto blinked.

“That’s a thing? ” he asked in horror, and Yuzuka felt a flash of irritation, because Shouto should know this.

“Yeah,” he bit out and got up. “Let’s spar.”

He was going to beat the shit out of Shouto for the slight. Goddamn. Shouto followed him down the hall into the training room, and Yuzuka turned and charged him without any warning.

Shouto was ready for it, though, blowing flames at Yuzuka, and Yuzuka stamped, a wall of ice coming up to block it before he slid his foot along the floor. More ice charged towards Shouto, and captured him, and there was a BOOM as he heated up and exploded the ice off of his body. Yuzuka dropped behind the wall of ice to escape the shrapnel, and then he flung more ice at Shouto in a smokescreen before he came up on him. Ice formed around his hand in a gauntlet, and he punched Shouto directly in the eye. Shouto grunted as his head snapped back, and Yuzuka swept his leg and landed on top of him. Shouto brought up both arms to guard, fire flaring on his fists, and Yuzuka railed on him, punching down on his arms. Shouto bucked him off, and they rolled and separated.

Yuzuka slammed his foot into the ground, and Shouto dodged and rolled as ice spread across the floor. He hit the mats and rolled to his feet, blowing fire at Yuzuka, and Yuzuka threw up a wall to block it. Shouto circled around, still blowing fire, and Yuzuka circled around the wall before he twisted his foot and sent another wave of ice at him. Shouto cut the flames and dodged, and Yuzuka flung himself over the top of the wall and landed heavily on his brother. They went down, and Yuzuka punched him in the face. Shouto yelped, and Yuzuka grinned ferally.

The door opened, and both of them scattered like roaches under a light as Dad stared at them.

“What are you two doing?” he asked bluntly, and Yuzuka crawled to his feet.

“And where have you been?” Yuzuka asked, high and mighty, mostly to distract from the situation he had found them in. “You got done with the march at five! It’s eight thirty!”

Dad stared at him incredulously, but Yuzuka didn’t back down.

“You’ve been MIA for three and a half hours, Dad! ” he said, his voice a squawk, and Dad stared down at him in silence.

“I don’t need to explain my whereabouts to you,” he said gruffly, and Yuzuka inhaled sharply.

“Three and a half hours, Dad! Gone! No note, no text, no call! Just missing!” he said, and Shouto looked between him and Dad with wide, wide eyes. “Did you consider that you have starving children at home? Children that rely on a schedule? ”

Dad stared at him in silence, and Yuzuka knew he was taking it a bit far, but oh well. He was in the hole, and he had a shovel.

“Where were you that was so important that you had to abandon us?”

“I’m going to be gone Sunday, too, for lunch,” Dad said bluntly and took off his jacket. “Continue what you were doing.”

“Oh, so no answers for us?” Yuzuka demanded, fully aware that he was just being a bitch now. “No answers, no explanations, no—”

“I was with FUNgi. We were talking,” Dad gritted out, and Yuzuka blinked. FUNgi? Like, the highest ranked trans hero in Japanese history? That FUNgi?

“Oh,” he said, blankly. “What were you doing bothering FUNgi?”

“I wasn’t bothering him, he offered to answer some questions,” Dad grumbled, and it was then that it dawned on Yuzuka that Dad was... committing to learning.

Yuzuka stood there in shock, nearly swaying, his brain completely blank, and Dad threw his jacket to the side.

“Now, continue what you were doing,” he said, and Shouto blasted fire at Yuzuka. Yuzuka barely reacted in time, throwing up a wall, and honestly? Cheap shot, what the hell, Shouto. Oh, well. He would just go.

He’d have an existential crisis later.

Chapter Text

It was pouring rain out, and Dad was on a raid. Fuyumi had bought Shouto, Yuzuka, and Natsuo all their own Switches, and Yuzuka was curled up under a blanket playing Dead Cells, which he had bought with a credit card Dad had laying around. He was not good at it. He was not good at it at all. In his defense, he had never been allowed video games before, but, still. He was not doing a very good job of playing the game.

He died again, and then he sighed and looked out the window. Rain was coming down in a deluge, and he wanted to be outside, but it was not to be.

“Should we train?” he asked Shouto, who barely looked up from his own Switch.

“Why are you such a musclehead?” Shouto asked, delivering a critical blow, and Yuzuka threw a pillow at him. “Hey.”

“Don’t be fucking rude, ” Yuzuka said. “I’m bored. ”

He had been on testosterone for three months now, and his voice was dropping. He hit the gym every morning before class, and his breasts, if they could even be called that, were slowly and steadily melting into pecs. Overall, he was pleased, and his next shot appointment was due for next week. He wished he could record his progress and post it, but it was not to be, because Dad still had TikTok banned on his phone for whatever reason.

He wasn’t miffed about that. (He was.)

“Then go be bored somewhere else,” Shouto muttered, and Yuzuka pulled a face at him and checked Discord. Dad would be gone for three days, and had left this morning, leaving the three sons to their own devices, and Yuzuka was not enjoying himself. He was bored as hell, and he wanted to be training, but Shouto refused. He could batter the training dummies around for a bit, but that was hardly fulfilling. Maybe he would go to the gym.

There was a notification from LightEmUp, and he clicked on it.

LightEmUp: I’m boreeedddd

FrigidBastard: same.

LightEmUp: wyd?

FrigidBastard: was TRYING to play Dead Cells, but I suck at it.

LightEmUp: you’re normally not online at this time.

Oh... LightEmUp was perceptive. Yuzuka blinked at the message in silence before he typed out his response.

FrigidBastard: I’m normally with Dad right now, but he’s on a business trip.

LightEmUp: Oh. Every night?

FrigidBastard: There’s a no phones rule around this time.

That wasn’t the actual truth, but Yuzuka liked to reveal as few details about himself online as possible.

LightEmUp: Huh. Okay. Weird. Anyway, you should see this. I know you shittalk Endeavor all the time.

Attached was a link deriding Dad for donating to the HIV/AIDS Foundation, and when the hell did he do that? Yuzuka blinked in shock and clicked on it, scrolling through the article. Huh. Who knew?

LightEmUp: I know you hate him, but he’s kinda growing on me lol.

FrigidBastard: I don’t hate him, I just... It’s complicated.

LightEmUp: Yeah, you’ve said that. And you never explain lollll

FrigidBastard: What can I say? I’m an enigmatic kinda guy. He’s a perfectly good pro, but if Frostbite hates him, I’m siding with her.

LightEmUp: It’s not even PROVEN she hates him, though.

FrigidBastard: Yet.

LightEmUp: I heard from the grapevine she refuses to do raids with him.

Yuzuka paused at that, because she did refuse to do raids from him, but where was LightEmUp hearing that from?

FrigidBastard: Oh?

LightEmUp: Yeah. My grandparents have :sparkles: connections :sparkles:.

FrigidBastard: That they gossip to you about?

LightEmUp: Well, if they didn’t want to overhear, they shouldn’t speak so loudly.

FrigidBastard: Sounds like your grandparents are gossips lollll

LightEmUp: Well, so am I. Which is why it’s frustrating that you give zero details about yourself. I tell my brother everything I overhear.

LightEmUp: And he wants deets on you, too.

FrigidBastard: Tough.

LightEmUp: Agh! There you go again. You’re so mean to me...

FrigidBastard: I’m sure you’ll survive lol I’m not going to gossip like a kindergartener.

LightEmUp: Are you implying I’m a five year old.

FrigidBastard: ;)

LightEmUp: UGH why did I even message you you’re so mean to me.

FrigidBastard: Cope lol

LightEmUp: But no seriously. Are you doing okay? You’ve been quiet lately.

Yuzuka paused over the message. Was he okay? He had no idea, honestly. He was just vibing, though Dad had been pushing him harder in training than normal. He was sporting a black eye right now from Shouto punching him in the face, and his nose was broken again, but, then again, so was Shouto’s. He just had been too tired after training late into the night to actually talk to anyone. Between that and the gym in the mornings, homework after school, he was dead tired and not adjusting well. Dad had been pushy lately, wanting them to be at their best, despite UA being a year away, and Yuzuka was...

Well.

He was tired.

There was a plaintive meow outside out of the house, and Shouto paused his video game as they both looked up. Natsuo stirred, and there it was again. A sad, pathetic meow, right outside the front door, and Yuzuka got up and made his way to the door. He pulled it open, and there was a sopping wet cat, sitting on the stoop, looking up at him with massive golden eyes. Yuzuka stared down at it, and it walked right in like it belonged.

Oh.

Okay.

“Is that a cat? ” Shouto asked, and Yuzuka shrugged helplessly as the cat wound its way around his legs, purring up a storm.

“Yeah?” he said, and the cat headbutted his leg. It was a kitten, now that he was looking. Barely old enough to be away from its mother, and he was confused as to its presence here, because shouldn’t it be feral? Wasn’t it supposed to be a lot meaner than this?

“Well, close the door, don’t let it out!” Shouto said, and Yuzuka paused.

“We can’t keep a cat, ” he said, and Shouto puffed up like a pissed off parakeet?

“It’ll piss Dad off,” he said, and Yuzuka immediately slid the door shut. The cat rolled onto its side, exposing its belly as it purred up a storm, and Yuzuka stared at it blankly.

“Should we call Fuyumi?” he asked, and Shouto pulled out his phone.

“Yes,” he said, and Yuzuka crouched down. The cat rolled to its feet and approached him, and he held out a hand for it to sniff and consequentially headbutt. Okay, then. They had a cat now.

“Fuyumi, a cat just let itself into the house, can you come over with supplies?” Shouto asked, and Yuzuka looked up.

“Dad’s gonna be pissed, ” he said in glee, and Shouto nodded.

“Yes, he will,” he deadpanned, and the kitten rubbed all along Yuzuka’s hand and trailed past his arm, its tail sweeping over his fingers. It really was utterly soaked. Gods.

“We should warm it up,” Natsuo said and got up. “I’ll go get a towel. Shouto, you’re on kitten warming duty.”

“No, we didn’t steal someone’s pet, she just let herself in!” Shouto said into the phone. “She was just soaked outside and she’s really skinny... Like, really skinny.”

The cat rubbed her mouth against Yuzuka’s finger, and he took in her black fur and massive golden eyes. She really was skinny. You could see her ribs poking out, and he wondered if someone dumped her. She was clearly socialized.

“Please, can you just bring over supplies?” Shouto pleaded into the phone, and then he brightened up in that deadpan way of his. “Thank you!”

Oh, Fuyumi was coming over? Good. They would have someone else to gang up on Dad and demand they keep the cat. Dad didn’t like to argue with Fuyumi nowadays, just agreed with everything she said, so they would be able to keep the cat.

Awesome, Yuzuka thought with a grin as he scratched the cat under the chin. She was really affectionate. Wow. What a neat cat. Whoever dumped her was an idiot.

Shouto padded across the floor to the cat and dropped into a crouch next to her, offering her his hand, and she rubbed up against it with a deep purr that shook her entire tiny body. Wow, she really needed some food. Yuzuka petted her as gently as he could, and she arched up into the embrace, rising up on her hind paws to grab his hand with her tiny paws and rub her face against his hand.

“Alright, I have the towel,” Natsuo said and handed the towel to Shouto. He wrapped her up in it and picked her up, and she continued to purr like a motorboat as he turned up the heat to warm her up.

Yuzuka took a photo of her and sent it to LightEmUp.

FrigidBastard: Found a cat.

LightEmUp: ??????????? WHERE????

FrigidBastard: She was crying outside the door and walked right in when I opened it.

LightEmUp: Did you just steal someone’s cat??

FrigidBastard: Think she was dumped, she’s tiny and malnourished.

LightEmUp: Ah. Carry on then.

FrigidBastard: My big sister is coming over with supplies. Here’s to hoping she’s litter boxed trained??

LightEmUp: Oh so you have a sister?

FrigidBastard: Yeah? I have three siblings. Currently. Used to be four.

LightEmUp: Used to be???

FrigidBastard: I gtg. Bye. Kitten needs help.

LightEmUp: Wait you can’t just SAY THAT???

Yuzuka locked his phone and ignored it vibrating as he turned his attention to the cat.

“I vote we name her Hellion,” he said, and both Shouto and Natsuo looked up at him.

“Hellion?” Shouto echoed, and Yuzuka waggled his finger in front of her. She batted at it, and he grinned.

“Yeah. Hellion,” he said. “She’s gonna be a nightmare for Dad.”

“Oh. Yeah,” Shouto said, and Natsuo shrugged.

“I’m gonna be gone in a year, so name her what you want,” he said, and the twins sobered at the thought.

Right. Natsuo was a third year, and when he started college, he would be moving into the dorms. Shouto and Yuzuka would be alone in this big, empty house, and Dad would probably have to hire someone to cook again. Both twins stared at each other, the reminder setting on them with a sense of melancholy, and Natsuo cleared his throat.

“Come on, guys, don’t look like that, ” he said. “We don’t have to be upset about it.”

“I’m a little upset about it,” Yuzuka muttered, and Natsuo rolled his eyes.

“You’ll be so busy making friends you won’t even notice it,” he said, and Yuzuka was quiet. He barely saw Natsuo nowadays, when before, they had been so close. Sundays were dedicated to training, along with literally every other day of the week, and he had about two hours after classes ended and Natsuo got home from school to see him. That wasn’t nearly enough. Natsuo handled all of the dishes, all of the chores, and never complained about it, not once. At least, not to them. He complained about it a lot to Dad.

Shouto was quiet, too, and they all sat in their feelings of fear of change for a minute. Natsuo was going to be gone, and Dad was going to have to stop relying on him for free household labor. A maid and chef would come in, and they would have to adjust to new people, too. Natsuo had really been fucked over by Fuyumi moving out. It had been three years ago now, but it didn’t feel long enough.

“Don’t look so glum, guys, come on,” Natsuo pleaded, and both Shouto and Yuzuka looked away from him. A long silence spilled out, and then Natsuo sighed. “You understand why I have to leave, right?”

Natsuo hadn’t had a blowout fight with Dad in years now. He was quiet, silent, and he didn’t kick up a fuss or make a scene. Not like Yuzuka. Yuzuka got it, though. He just didn’t see the sense in fighting when he could keep his head down. That was easy to understand. Natsuo was probably more angry than any of them, because he, at least, remembered Touya. Yuzuka had only been five when he died. Maybe six, he didn’t remember exactly. Touya was a dim memory, and he was angry at Dad about it, but not like Natsuo was.

Never like Natsuo was.

How Natsuo had found it in him to forgive Mom was beyond Yuzuka.

Natsuo was quiet, and then he sighed.

“This guy will keep you two company, though, right?” he asked and scratched Hellion under the chin. Her little body vibrated with the force of her purr, and Shouto pursed his lips.

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly and got off the ground. “We should put her in the bathroom until Fuyumi gets here.”

“Yeah,” Yuzuka agreed, and Natsuo looked up at them with a kind of desperate pain in his eyes. His eyes tracked them to the bathroom, and he did not follow them.

They closed the door behind them, and Yuzuka slumped down against it and put his head between his knees.

“Do you ever realize this family is fucked behind repair?” he said into his legs, and Shouto did not respond.

Yeah.

That was what Yuzuka thought.

Chapter Text

Natsuo was napping on the couch with Hellion on his chest when the door opened. Dad stepped in, and Natsuo lifted his head with a bleary blink at him. Dad ignored him as he stepped out of his boots and stretched, cracking his neck, and then he froze.

“What is that?” he asked dangerously, and Natsuo looked down at Hellion.

“Hellion,” he said, and Dad stared at the kitten, who stared back at him.

“Get that out of my house,” Dad said, flat, and Natsuo tilted his head.

“No. The twins are already attached,” he said, and Dad stared at him incredulously.

“I don’t care? Get it out,” he said, and Natsuo snorted.

“Not getting rid of the cat, Dad,” he said. “We already have a vet appointment scheduled for next week.”

“What do you mean, you already have a vet appointment scheduled?” Dad demanded. “Who told you you could bring in an animal? ”

“I did,” Natsuo said. “She’s already litter box trained.”

“I don’t care if she can do a backflip. I don’t want that cat in my house!” Dad thundered, and yeah, Natsuo knew this would go bad.

“The twins already named her. She’s staying,” Natsuo said, and Dad stared at him in disbelief.

“Why do you listen to nothing I say?” he demanded, and Natsuo...

Natsuo had been stewing. He had been stewing, and it was time for him to blow up.

“You know,” he said casually, “it’s really admirable. How you showed up for Yuzuka.”

Dad froze, a weird expression crossing over his face, and Natsuo sat up and set Hellion on the floor.

“It’s really, really admirable,” he said, bitterness dripping from his lips like venom. “You know what you said to me when I tried to hold your hand at Touya’s funeral?”

Dad looked like Natsuo had hit him in the face, but Natsuo didn’t care.

“You’re too old for that,” he said, his voice dropping into a growl. “You know, I think if you had just let me hold your hand, I might have forgiven you.”

He stared Dad down, and Dad stared at him, and Natsuo gave him a bitter smile.

“Because you got Touya killed, and it took Yuzuka threatening for him to kill himself to get a little love from you, and I was forgotten. The same way I always am,” he said, calmly, feeling a little out of his own skin. He had no idea where this was coming from, but it was coming, and he wasn’t interested in stopping it.

“Because I am forgotten, aren’t I?” he continued. “I have the same quirk as Yuzuka, and I mean nothing to you. I cook. I clean up after you. I feed them, even while I balance my homework, and I come home on time. I’m a good kid. I don’t tag up buildings or smoke cigarettes. I get straight A’s, but when was the last time you looked at my report card? Did you ever even tell me happy birthday?”

He felt like the floodgates were open, and he had no idea where this was coming from, but it was coming out.

“You stay away from me because I’m pissed at you, and you gave up on me. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive you for giving up on me,” he said, slowly, testing out the words on his tongue, and he thought this was a long time coming. He was going to be graduating soon, and he needed to make it clear where they stood.

Natsuo stood up and walked towards his bedroom, Hellion on his heels, and he looked over his shoulder at Dad, who looked like Natsuo just punched him in the face.

“We’re keeping the cat,” he said, and then he opened his door and stepped into the room. Hellion followed him, and he shut the door and slid down against the wood of the door, burying his face in his hands.

He was shaking. He had no idea where any of that came from, and what hurt the worst was Dad didn’t argue with him. If he had argued with him, Natsuo would have known he was living in a delusion where all of his children were equal in his eyes. But, that was not the case. Dad knew the truth, and did nothing to change it. He didn’t do a damn thing to fix it, and Natsuo was already seventeen. He would be eighteen soon, and he would be out of this house before Dad could even say ‘I’m sorry’.

He was bitter. He would never take it out on Yuzuka, but Dad was showing up and showing out for Yuzuka. He had spoken at a fucking protest, for fucks sake. Dad would never go up to bat for Natsuo like that. Never love him like that, and Natsuo just...

He didn’t want Dad’s love. Hadn’t wanted it, not since he refused to hold Natsuo’s hand at the funeral. He wasn’t like Fuyumi, furiously fighting even in her twenties to gain some kind of recognition from Dad, even though she denied that that was what this was. He wasn’t like Yuzuka, still young enough to forgive his transgressions and move on now that he knew Dad loved him.

He was too old, too bitter. He had busted his ass to keep this house moving, but that was only for Yuzuka, no one else. Not even Shouto, because he barely knew the other boy. Now that he and Yuzuka were training together, he felt like he knew Shouto a little better, but...

Why was he crying?

Tears were welling up in his eyes, and he wiped them, pulling back his hand to stare at the glistening wetness in horror. Why was he crying? He shouldn’t... he shouldn’t be crying over this. Why was he upset? He had simply stated facts, so what was there to be upset about? He didn’t think... This wasn’t worth crying over.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

“SHOUTO! YUZUKA! GET IN THE TRAINING ROOM!” Dad thundered behind his door, and Natsuo choked on a laugh. Of course. Of course. Couldn’t take one night off, could he? He was just going to do the same shit, over and over again, and Natsuo got up and pulled his door open, staring at Dad in the hallway.

Dad froze at the sight of him, and Natsuo gave him a bitter smile.

“And, Dad?” he said through his tears, and Dad stared at him. “Touya’s dead because of you. Try not to get another kid killed, yeah?”

He shut the door and numbly made his way over to his futon, collapsing down on it, and Hellion climbed onto his chest and settled down, her body vibrating with a purr. Natsuo stroked his hand down her back and stared up at the ceiling, tears still streaming down his face.

He hadn’t understood it when Yuzuka threatened to kill himself. Didn’t get it. Why did it make so much sense now? It felt wrong that he had passed thirteen when Touya hadn’t. Like there was a limb missing, a hole in his chest. There was an ache that never went away, and he hated it. He truly despised it. Was he going to feel like this for the rest of his life? He didn’t know. Dad knew he got Touya killed, but was he ever going to apologize for it? Probably not.

Dad showed up for Shouto. He showed up for Yuzuka. In some ways, he probably showed up for Fuyumi. Natsuo was nothing in his eyes. The spare. The puzzle piece that didn’t fit. He wasn’t...

Natsuo closed his eyes and tried to breathe. Why did he just do that? There was no point in that. He knew Dad felt bad. He knew Dad felt guilty. But, what was the point of feeling guilty when you did nothing to make it better, correct the wrong, change? He only changed selectively. He didn’t change for all of his children, just the ones that screamed loud enough to be seen.

Natsuo had never been much of a screamer.

Nor did he want to be seen.

He just...

Why was he upset about this?

He didn’t know. He felt lost, honestly. Lost and lonely in this big, empty house that had only gotten more quiet since Yuzuka started training. Gods, he missed Yuzuka. He was isolated, fucking again, and Yuzuka had Shouto now, would have Shouto through all of UA, and Natsuo had nothing. Fucking nothing.

His phone started vibrating next to his head, and he picked it up and stared at the caller ID. It was Hayden, and he swallowed and answered the phone.

“Hey, baby,” he said, and there was a pause on the other end.

“Is now a bad time...?” Hayden asked, his voice lightly tinged with his English accent, and Natsuo coughed.

“No, it’s fine,” he said roughly, consciously aware of the fact that he sounded like he’d been crying. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to talk to you,” Hayden said, and there was the clatter of keyboard keys in the background. “You’ve been distant lately, and I was worried you’re not okay.”

“No, no, I’m fine,” Natsuo rasped, and then he burst into tears. “We found a cat...”

“... A cat?” Hayden echoed. “Is that... a Japanese euphemism I’m not familiar with?”

“No, a literal cat,” Natsuo assured him, and coughed. “I just... Sorry. I just got in a fight with my dad.”

“Oh,” Hayden said quietly, and then— “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really, no,” Natsuo replied. “How was your day?”

“Well, I passed the mock exams for Tokyo University,” Hayden said brightly. “So, I can join you soon.”

“Oh, that’s great!” Natsuo said, and tried to feel happy, but... “I just... It’s just...”

“Is it about Touya?” Hayden asked quietly, and Natsuo swallowed.

“Yes... No... You ever... Feel like you’re seeing someone get blessings and counting the blessings in your basket and realize you’re coming up short?” Natsuo asked, and Hayden was quiet.

“I see,” he said. “So, this is about Yuzuka.”

There was a dull thud in the other room, and Natsuo winced.

“Yeah. This is about Yuzuka,” he said quietly, and Hayden was quiet.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “It can be hard to see your parents show up for someone else, but not you.”

“I just... I wish... I wish...” Natsuo hated to admit it. He didn’t want to say it out loud. He didn’t want to admit to it, but he didn’t have a choice. “I just wish he loved me a little more.”

Hayden was quiet, and there was no clatter of keys in the background.

“Do you want to talk about the cat?” he asked lowly, and gods, fuck, he knew Natsuo better than his own father ever would.

“Yeah...” Natsuo croaked out. “Let’s talk about the cat.”

“Okay. What’s going on with the cat?”

“Her name is Hellion, and I’m skipping school next week to take her to the vet,” Natsuo said, and Hayden sighed.

“You shouldn’t skip school, babe.”

“Well, vets should be open on Sundays, but we can’t all have what we want, can we?” Natsuo said bitterly, and Hayden laughed.

“I understand.”

“She’s probably got worms,” Natsuo muttered, and Hayden sighed.

“Probably, yes,” he agreed. “Will you be caring for her until you leave?”

“Yeah. Someone’s gotta,” Natsuo said, and Hayden hummed.

“And what about the twins? Will they be able to take care of a cat while in the hero course?”

“I don’t see why not, ” Natsuo said. “They have the same hours as everyone else... It may get dicey when they have to go to camp, though, but Dad won’t starve a cat.”

“You sure? You paint him as the devil incarnate,” Hayden said, and Natsuo swallowed.

“He’s... he’s a cold man, but he isn’t cruel intentionally,” he said, and that was the worst part, wasn’t it? None of his cruelty was on purpose. “He’s just... He’s hard. And I think that makes him not love his kids. We’re just... tools.”

Yuzuka wasn’t a tool. Dad was training him because he loved him, not like Shouto. Out of all his children, Yuzuka was the angriest, the meanest, the least forgiving, and Dad was... so loving of him. He loved him so much, and it hurt more than words could express.

“I’m sorry,” Hayden said lowly. “You deserve better than this.”

“I just can’t wait until you’re here,” Natsuo said, longingly, and Hayden was quiet.

“Yeah. I can’t wait, either,” he said, and Natsuo pulled his phone back from his ear and switched on video. Hayden switched on video, too, and for a moment, Natsuo stared at him, taking in his long, curly red hair pulled back in a ponytail, his emerald green eyes and freckles and high, noble brow. He was freshly shaven, and beautiful.

“I miss you,” Natsuo said. “I’m sorry I’ve been distant. Dad was gone on a raid, and I was getting time with the twins.”

“It’s okay,” Hayden said. “I was fine with it.”

“I can’t wait to live with you,” Natsuo said, and Hayden smiled.

“I can’t wait to live with you, too.”

One year. He had one year to go, and then his life would come out better. He would be okay, and that was...

He had to believe he would be okay in a year.

Chapter Text

Seasons passed, and they kept Hellion. Dad rose in the popularity polls, trending with a more left leaning crowd, and Shouto was tired. They had been training four hours, every day, for months now, and the closer and closer they got to UA, the more stressed Dad got. Shouto, especially, got the brunt of Dad’s anxiety, and now Dad was trying to make sure he could fly, despite being entirely unable to fly himself. Shouto was getting fed up with the whole thing, Dad could just ask Fuyumi, who could actually fly, but he didn’t want to do that.

No, Dad was too stubborn for that.

So, here they were, in the training room, with Shouto hovering a few feet off the ground as his flames hissed and spat out, going higher, higher, higher, until they finally cut out. Dad threw a mat down as Shouto fell with a yelp, anxiety clawing in his throat, and he hit the yelp with an oomf as Yuzuka focused on fighting with the training dummy.

For a moment, Shouto just stared up at the ceiling, half in and half out of it, before he rolled over.

“Why do I have to fly?” he asked bluntly, and Dad stared at him in frustration.

“Because I said so,” he said, and Shouto huffed out.

“That’s not a good enough reason,” he said, and Dad pursed his lips.

“You need to be better than me, Shouto. It’s the only way you can surpass All Might,” he said, and Shouto bristled.

“I don’t even want to surpass All Might,” he said. “Why is any of this necessary?”

“You’re so stubborn,” Dad snapped. “Why don’t you want to be number one?”

“I don’t know. It seems lonely,” Shouto said with a shrug, and Dad stared at him in dismay. “I think I can just be a regular pro. I don’t need to climb the charts.”

“Why are you like this?” Dad asked. “What would Touya say?”

“Well, Touya’s dead, so I imagine he wouldn’t be saying much of anything,” Shouto snapped, and Dad flinched. It was a full body flinch, not hidden in the slightest, and Shouto couldn’t believe he had the gall to bring up Touya. What the fuck was wrong with him?

“I’m tired. I’m going to bed,” Shouto announced and got up, and Yuzuka looked over.

“I’m going to bed, too,” Yuzuka said, and disengaged from the training dummy. Dad’s brows furrowed, and oh, here it came—

“It’s not even nine pm. You’re not going to bed,” he said, and Shouto rolled out his shoulders and made his way to the door. “Shouto! Yuzuka!”

“Do you want this to be a fight, Dad?” Shouto asked bluntly. “Because that’s what this is going to turn into.”

“Get back here and practice your flying, ” Dad growled, and Shouto rolled his eyes.

“No,” he deadpanned. “I’ll work on it tomorrow.”

“What has gotten into you?” Dad demanded, and Shouto bristled.

“Well, how about we haven’t had a day off in months, and we’re tired and stressed out. It’s summer break, and we haven’t even gone on a trip. I haven’t seen the outside of this house in four weeks, and I’m sick of training,” he snapped, and Dad stared at him in disbelief.

“That’s it? You want a break? Do you think to get to number one, you can take breaks? ” he asked, and Shouto stood firm.

“I’m sure All Might has gone on a vacation or two,” he said, and Dad blew up.

“I have not gone on a vacation in decades, do you think that’s because I like work? ” he demanded, red in the face and pissed, and Shouto stared him down. “You’re such an entitled brat!”

“Well, maybe you’d be more palatable if you did go on a vacation,” Shouto said snidely, and Dad blinked.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You have a terrible personality, Dad,” Shouto said loudly. “You’re just... you’re awful. Maybe if you went on a vacation or two you would be less annoying. ”

“I’m not annoying, what the fuc—”

“Yes, you are,” Yuzuka chimed in, looking positively gleeful to see Shouto kicking back. “You’re extremely fucking annoying.”

“See? Yuzuka agrees with me,” Shouto said and drew himself up. “It’s all number one this, push it more that, do this, do that, you don’t even talk to us.”

“I push you,” Dad snapped. “That’s not a bad thing.”

“Well, one of these days, you’re gonna push us off a cliff,” Shouto deadpanned, and Dad turned bright red. “And we’re both going to gang up on you.”

“Just let us go to bed, Dad,” Yuzuka said. “We’re tired. ”

“Well, if you didn’t stay up all night on your phone, maybe you wouldn’t be tired, ” Dad growled.

“Oh, come on, Dad, that’s the only socialization outside of Shouto I can get, ” Yuzuka said dismissively.

“If you go to bed right now, I’m taking your phones.”

“We need the alarms, and you’re not going to wake us up,” Yuzuka pointed out, and Dad’s eye twitched. “Face it, Dad. You’re old, boring, and annoying. All you do is work, and we’re all tired of it.”

“I do not just do work,” Dad growled, and Yuzuka gesticulated wildly.

“Yes, you do!” he said. “You totally just do work!”

“No, I don’t!”

“You do just work,” Shouto said, and Dad pursed his lips. A long silence spilled out, and then he turned on his heel.

“Fine. Take a break, ” he growled, and Shouto and Yuzuka exchanged glances. Success. The two of them darted for the door before he could change his mind, and out they spilled, into the hallway, success bringing a pep in their stride.

“I’m going to shower,” Shouto said, and Yuzuka nodded.

“Don’t take all the hot water,” he said, and made his way to his room. “It’s probably too late to help Natsuo with dinner...”

“Yeah, probably,” Shouto agreed, and Yuzuka peered into the kitchen. The food was already cooked, and he made his way to the fridge to take out his portion and pop it into the microwave. Shouto continued on down the hall, headed for the bathroom, and he opened and shut the door behind him.

He took himself in the mirror. It was summer now, and he had grown tall. Yuzuka had grown pretty tall, too, but Shouto was taller. His hair was still as lank and silky as ever, and he stared at his turquoise eyes peering out from under his hair. He really wasn’t the spitting image of Dad. He had his coloring, but unlike Yuzuka, he looked more like Mom in the face. He was fine with that, honestly. He didn’t hate it, but he didn’t love it, either.

He still hadn’t visited Mom or written her a letter. He was too stressed out for that nowadays. Mom was... he didn’t know how he felt about Mom. Yuzuka talked about her, sometimes, and why he wouldn’t visit her, and Shouto had gotten into arguments with him about it, but Yuzuka’s words had wiggled their way into his brain.

She’s just as at fault as Dad.

She had agreed to have children with Dad. She had agreed to the quirk marriage, and she had participated in creating this toxic family dynamic that did more harm than good. Just because she felt bad about it later didn’t mean she wasn’t complicit. She should have divorced Dad after he started pressing for another child, but she didn’t do that. Instead, she had Natsuo and the twins, and Shouto didn’t want to blame her, but Yuzuka had a point.

He had never breathed a word of it to his older siblings, but Shouto knew Yuzuka felt more comfortable with him. Maybe he felt vindicated in the fact that Shouto didn’t visit her like his siblings. Shouto didn’t know.

He tried to not think about Mom, if he was being honest.

Shouto turned and started up the shower, letting the water rain down into the tub, and started stripping. He looked in the mirror again, taking in his scar, marred across the left side of his face. He brought up his fingers to touch it, gingerly, gently, and swallowed. He felt around the edges of it, taking in the change in texture, the keloid. He used to massage it every day to improve skin elasticity, but that had fallen off in recent years.

He tapped his fingers through the water to check the temperature, and then he stumbled into the shower and let the water run through his hair. Fuyumi had replaced his hair care again with something with keratin, and he poured it out in his palm and lathered up his hair. He was sweaty and stinky, and he had really started to stink more. Yuzuka was stinky, too, so he supposed he wasn’t as alone in that. He had no idea how Yuzuka managed to get so smelly, he literally wasn’t heating up at all in their sparring, but he was. Shouto sighed and let his shampoo run out, and then he turned for the conditioner. Why did Fuyumi keep switching out his damn shampoo? He liked his baby shampoo. It was gentle on his skin.

He lathered up his conditioner, and then he started scrubbing down with the soap, which was blessedly left alone for once. He scrubbed his body down, lathering up and letting the excess pool around the drain. He started rinsing off, and then there was a knock on the door.

“Shouto? Fuyumi’s over,” Yuzuka called on the other side, and Shouto lifted his head.

“I’ll be right out!” he promised, because why was Fuyumi over? She never came over. Except to fuck with Shouto’s shampoo.

He finished rinsing off, and then he got out of the shower and dried off. He could dimly hear an argument in the background, and he sighed. Here we go.

He hurried through wiping down his body with lotion and did all the things he needed to, leaving off his skincare for later, when he was headed to bed, and then he made his way into his bedroom.

“And you haven’t taken them on a damn vacation since they were born! ” Fuyumi screeched, her voice cut off by him sliding the door shut, and oh, Yuzuka must have messaged the group chat. How did she get here so fast? She must have been heading over anyway.

Shouto got dressed in joggers and a t-shirt, and then he padded out into the hall.

“Take them to Disney! Fuck, they never get out of this house!” Fuyumi screamed, and Shouto leaned on the wall at the end of the hallway.

“They don’t need to go to Disney, they need to train, ” Dad said, and Shouto wondered what Dad did that Yuzuka was so pissed off he set Fuyumi on him. Was it the Touya comment? It was probably the Touya comment.

“They’re kids! Normal fucking kids! And they need trips! They’re already missing out on trips to Osaka and shit with their school!” she said angrily, and Dad twitched. “You didn’t even let them go out for Golden Week this year!”

“When you have kids, you can tell me how to raise mine,” Dad thundered, and Shouto tilted his head.

“Fine, I’ll take them to Disney,” Fuyumi swore. “Give me your credit card.”

“I’m not— Fuyumi, what the fuck, ” Dad swore, and Fuyumi marched into his office, him on her heels. “Are you actually serious right now?”

“I’m dead serious. It’s summer break, and they’re going to Disney for a few days,” she said. “I’ll book them a few nights at the resort and take a few days off—”

“Fine! I’ll take them to Disney, just get out of my wallet,” Dad said, and Shouto craned his neck to take in the sight of her holding his credit card threateningly.

“You promise? And you can’t leave Natsuo out,” she said, and Dad ran his hand through his hair.

“Fine! Fine! I’ll take them to Disney, but they’re going to hate the crowds,” he said seriously, and Fuyumi blew her bangs out of her eyes.

“I don’t care. Take them to Disney, give them a fucking break, ” she growled, and Dad snatched the credit card out of her hand.

“And don’t use that credit card. That’s for bills,” he grumbled, and put it back in his wallet. “Shouto! Yuzuka! Natsuo! Pack for three days!”

Natsuo stuck his head in and stared at Dad with dead eyes.

“I’m not going,” he deadpanned, and Dad twitched.

“Yes, you are,” he snapped. “Or do you want to leave your brothers alone with me in the middle of Disney for three days?”

Natsuo twitched, and then he opened his mouth and shut it.

“Fine,” he said and turned back to Yuzuka. “Go pack.”

Huh. They were going to Disney. Okay, then. Shouto turned for his room, wondering what clothes he should wear, and shut his door.

Seriously. Dad at Disney would just be fucking comical. Shouto couldn’t wait to see how this would go south.

Chapter Text

Why anyone went to Disney while it was this hot out was beyond Yuzuka. His shirt was drenched in sweat, and he was consciously aware of people taking photos of him with his dad. Shouto didn’t seem to notice or care, but Yuzuka felt very put on display here. Natsuo didn’t seem to notice anything, which, good for him, but Yuzuka didn’t like pictures of himself floating around online when he didn’t look like a million bucks.

Which he did not look like a million bucks right now. Already, he was missing air conditioning, and this had gone on for far too long. It was barely eleven am, and while the roller coasters were fun, they were not ‘wait three hours in Tokyo’s humidity’ fun. They were all stuck in line for Splash Mountain, and while he was looking forward to getting soaked, he was not enjoying the line as he ate his pineapple Dole Whip. It was sweet on the tongue, almost too sweet after Dad’s embargo on sweets, and he was not enjoying it as much as he should be, considering it was a half melted mess in its cup at this point.

“We probably won’t have the chance to do this once we’re in UA,” Shouto said, and Yuzuka blinked at him.

“What, you think UA doesn’t have summer vacation?” he asked in amusement, and Shouto looked at him.

“We’ll be too busy training over break,” he said, and oh, yeah, that was true. They would be too busy training.

“Mm,” Yuzuka replied as yet another girl snapped another photo of them and started typing on her phone. Yuzuka twitched and checked Twitter, searching Endeavor in the bar, and what he saw was...

Endeavor’s sons are too hot. Please sweat on me!!!

What the fuck.

He stared at the photo of him and Shouto standing there, and then he checked the age of the girl that posted it. Fifteen. Okay, so not that weird, but sweat on her? That was some bizarre shit, and he looked up as a girl approached him.

“Are you Yuzuka Todoroki?” she asked shyly, and he stared at her blankly.

“Yeah...?”

“Can I please have your number?” she asked, and Dad stepped in before Yuzuka tried to figure out how to turn her down, because already he was anticipating his number being leaked.

“Yuzuka isn’t allowed to share his number,” Dad said gruffly, and she looked crestfallen.

“Oh...” she said, and Yuzuka locked his phone and slid it into his pocket.

“Sorry,” he said blandly, and she gave him a small smile.

“That’s okay! Security and everything,” she said and bowed. “I apologize for bothering you.”

With that, she darted away, and it took a second for that to process in Yuzuka’s brain. Had a girl just asked for his number, knowing he was trans? Did that actually just happen? Did she not care, or did she have a fetish or something? Or was he just a boy to her?

“No one asked for my number,” Shouto grumbled, and Yuzuka opened his mouth, but a child started screaming its head off. Yuzuka looked over, and there was a little girl sitting on the ground, wailing as her parents desperately tried to calm her down. Yuzuka tilted his head in interest, and the line shuffled forward as the next batch of people boarded the boat. They were reaching the inside now, and the mom just picked the screaming little girl up and hauled her forward. Seriously, why not leave the line? Sunk cost fallacy, he supposed. They had already been in this line this long, and a little tantrum was not going to keep them from stopping.

The girl’s screams were only getting louder, though, and Yuzuka twitched. She was screaming her lungs out, and how did she have that much lung capacity? Did he ever throw a fit like that at that age? He didn’t recall. She couldn’t be older than five, but Dad was looking a little twitchy.

“Don’t cause a scene,” Yuzuka muttered, and the little girl screeched, “NOOOOO!!!!” and smacked her mother’s hands away. Wow, that was rude, but the mother seemed unfazed by the rough treatment.

“How much longer are we going to be in this line?” Natsuo muttered as he pulled out his phone to check it, and when Yuzuka glanced down at it, there was a message from ‘Baby’ on the phone.

“Who is Baby?” Yuzuka asked, and Natsuo froze.

“Yuzuka, don’t look at my phone!” he said, and Dad twitched.

“Do you have a girlfriend? ” Dad asked, and Natsuo pocketed his phone.

“I’m not discussing this with you,” he said, and Dad stared down at him. “Yuzuka, why can’t you keep your mouth shut?”

“You do have a girlfriend,” Dad said, looking vaguely perturbed, and Natsuo twitched.

“He’s not a girl,” he snapped, and Dad stared at him in silence. “His name is Hayden, and he’s from England.”

Dead silence greeted that, and Dad flushed up to his roots.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were gay? I’m clearly supportive,” he said and gesticulated to Yuzuka, who didn’t appreciate being brought up for this.

“Because it was none of your business, okay?” Natsuo snapped as more color climbed in his face. “Gods, Yuzuka, why did you have to out me?”

“You just outted yourself,” Yuzuka said, offended now. “You could have lied and said he was a girl. Stop dragging me into this.”

“And I’m not gay, I’m bi,” Natsuo snapped, and Dad stared at him blankly.

“So, you may end up marrying a woman one day and giving me grandbabies?” he asked, and there were exclamations from all three collected brothers.

“Oh, come on, Dad!”

“Why are you so old? ”

“You can’t say that!”

“What?” Dad asked, now offended himself. “Fuyumi’s obviously a lesbian, and Yuzuka wouldn’t let a penis anywhere near him without birth control, and Shouto...”

He trailed off and gave Shouto a pained look, and Shouto bristled.

“What does that mean?” he asked, and Yuzuka snorted.

“You’re clearly a homosexual,” Dad said flatly, and Shouto bristled again.

“This trip is a fucking nightmare,” he muttered and turned aside.

“It’s not a bad thing!” Dad said, and Shouto whirled on him.

“Then why did you look at me like that? ” he demanded, and Dad ran his hand through his hair.

“Because you can’t hide it worth shit,” he said. “I thought you’d be more masculine, but Yuzuka’s more of a boy than you are.”

“Hey, that’s lowkey transphobic,” Yuzuka said, offended now, and Dad gave him a pained look this time.

“I’m just—”

“I think we should all stop talking now,” Natsuo interrupted, and there was a crunch of chips behind them. They looked over their shoulder, and there was a boy, couldn’t be older than thirteen, filming the entire thing.

They all froze, and Yuzuka was in the perfect position to see that he was live streaming. Oh, gods, fuck, no.

“Hi, Endeavor!” the boy said cheerfully. “I’m a big fan.”

Dad stared down at him with a blank expression on his face, and then his phone started vibrating in his pocket. He pulled it out, and Tamura was the caller ID. Replies to the live were rolling in, the chat exploding, and Yuzuka honestly wanted to crawl in a hole and die.

“Whatever it is, it can wait until vacation is over,” Dad said, and there was a pause.

“Unfortunately, it can not wait until vacation is over, Endeavor. Let the boys go to Disneyland on their own and get back to the office now, ” Tamura said, and Dad pinched the bridge of his nose. “Natsuo can make sure everyone’s accounted for.”

“I’ll be back in tomorrow,” Dad grumbled, and Tamura inhaled from his nose on the other side of the phone.

“Endeavor.”

“It can wait until tomorrow, ” Dad said and hung up the phone, ignoring it when it vibrated again.

Ah. They were all so fucked.

.

.

.

.

.

Endeavor fathered nothing but fruits and this is the funniest day of my life.

WHERE are all these fruitcake genes coming from lmfao???

I think this is a good lesson in if you’re a celebrity, don’t have private conversations in public LMFAO

Endeavor is nothing but a walking scandal at this point and I am living for it.

That’s a whole damn fruit tree.

What kind of genetics made the whole damn Todoroki pool queer???

Watch Endeavor pull a Misha Collins.

No but it would be SO funny if we found out Endeavor was the one producing all these fruits.

It was a goddamn fiasco on Twitter, and Yuzuka was half living for it, half not. He had not wanted to come out when he did, and now his siblings had to suffer with him. Siblings, plural, because Fuyumi had posted a tweet that confirmed her orientation as lesbian. The whole fucking family was outted, and he was relieved he wasn’t the only one that had to deal with intense backlash in the media, but goddamn, imagine if they had all kept their mouths shut.

They really couldn’t get through one vacation without a scandal, he thought in amusement as he laid in the hotel bed. Dad had booked them rooms at the Disney resort, and he kind of wanted to go down to the pool to cool off, kind of didn’t. They stayed until the parade, and now Dad was gone, leaving Natsuo in charge of the twins. Natsuo should not be in charge of the twins, because he was in the other room, having a mental breakdown on the phone with his boyfriend.

“I’m just—I don’t even want to be a celebrity, I want to be a family practitioner. This is insane, I’m trending on Twitter, everyone is coming for me, I don’t know what to do— Okay. Okay. I’ll delete Twitter from my phone, but fuck, Hayden, I am so stressed out right now, and we have two more days of Disney— I know I should just enjoy it, but I don’t understand how Dad could just leave us while we’re all over Twitter—”

Yuzuka tuned him out and threw his arm over his face. Shouto was in the shower, and Yuzuka was freshly cleaned, and really, what was everyone freaking out about, anyway? Going viral across all social media platforms for being queer was a Tuesday for Yuzuka. This was nothing to get stressed over. It would blow over in a week, anyway. No one actually cared beyond quips they could make on Twitter and clever TikTok posts. He knew all people cared about was the current trending topic and how they could get their five minutes of fame.

With a sigh, he rolled over and shoved a pillow under his arm as he unlocked his phone.

LightEmUp: I’m convinced Endeavor is bi.

Yuzuka blinked at that, because he didn’t realize this was a thing now.

LightEmUp: Those poor kids, man.

FrigidBastard: What makes you say that?

LightEmUp: Well, they have to get it from somewhere.

FrigidBastard: There’s no proof of an existing gay gene.

LightEmUp: Oh. Tru.

FrigidBastard: Anyways. What are you doing?

LightEmUp: Nothing lol. Just laying around at home.

FrigidBastard: I’m at Disney.

LightEmUp: Oh, shit, really? Did you see the parade?

LightEmUp: Watch you be Yuzuka Todoroki lollll

Oh, shit, Yuzuka shouldn’t have told him that. Oh, well. Might as well play into it.

FrigidBastard: Yeah I’m totally Yuzuka Todoroki

LightEmUp: Lucky. He’s hot.

Yuzuka stared with bug eyes at that message, and a photo came in next.

LightEmUp: I mean, just LOOK at him.

Why the actual fuck did LightEmUp have photos saved of Yuzuka on his phone??

Oh, right.

Yuzuka was a child celebrity, by proxy of being related to Dad. He was a public figure, and a lot of people probably had photos of him saved on their phones. Shit.

FrigidBastard: Idk he looks like a bastard to me.

LightEmUp: But I LIKE bastards.

FrigidBastard: Probably a spoiled rotten rich kid that never had to work for a thing in his life. You can do better than that lol.

LightEmUp: If I end up going to UA with you and him, you canNOT tell him about this conversation.

FrigidBastard: My lips are sealed lol.

Ah, LightEmUp was too funny. The one bright spot in this fucking mess. But, Natsuo had a point. Why were they continuing their vacation? They should just go home. Yuzuka wasn’t even enjoying himself.

Chapter Text

“I don’t need another damn sensitivity training,” Enji said, and Tamura rubbed his eyes.

“First, you speculated on Frostbite’s sexuality. In public, ” he said, and Enji could see how that was a problem, but it was an honest mistake— “Then, you said your trans son was more of a boy than your cis son, who you referred to as a ‘homosexual’.”

“Well, that’s what he is! He’s a homosexual!” Enji said in protest. “He’s gay!”

“You say gay, not homosexual. Homosexual is too hard of a term. It needs to be softer, ” Tamura said, and Enji angrily crossed his arms. “You need to issue a public apology.”

“Like hell I do!”

“I already have it half drafted, I just need you to sign off on it,” Tamura said, and Enji glowered at him.

“It was a private conversation I had among my sons, ” he said, and Tamura set his jaw.

“That you had in public. ”

“Can we at least wait for the public backlash before we issue apologies?”

“It’s already here,” Tamura said. “You’re trending on Twitter. And you’re a hot item on TikTok right now, too.”

“This is ridiculous, ” Enji huffed and crossed his arms. “I’m not apologizing.”

“I don’t care,” Tamura cooed. “I will post it with or without your approval.”

“That is insubordination— ”

“Alright, I’m here,” Wakuri said as she opened the door, and Enji stiffened up as he eyed the spray bottle in her hand. “Endeavor, if you could just follow me to the conference room, we’ll get this sensitivity training started.”

“There’s no way you had this put together in time,” Enji deadpanned, and she grinned at him.

“I actually have multiple prepared sensitivity trainings just for you, Endeavor,” she said sweetly, and he eyed the squirt bottle in her hand. “Let’s go.”

With that, she turned and walked out the door, and Tamura gestured to the door.

“Well? You don’t want to piss off Wakuri, do you?” he asked, and Enji grumbled under his breath as he made his way out. Wakuri was way ahead of him, headed for the conference room, and Enji slumped into a chair as soon as he made it into the room and glared at the power point she already had set up.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” Wakuri purred, and Enji rubbed his hand over his face. This was a fucking nightmare. He wanted to go home, go on patrol, do something other than this. His phone started buzzing in his pocket, and he pulled it out and checked it as Wakuri gave him the stink eye. Fuyumi was calling, and he sighed and answered it.

“I can’t believe I let you go on one vacation without me and you outed me on a fucking live stream! ” she screamed into the mic, and he held it back from his ear. “What the fuck, Dad? ”

“In my defense, I don’t think it counts as outing when you never even confirmed it to me, ” he said, and she let out a little screech.

“Yes, it still fucking counts as outing, Dad! What the fuck is wrong with you? You can’t go anywhere! ” she screamed. “My PR is in shambles, and I’m going to have to confirm I’m dating and living with Nakano—”

“Wait, living? ” he asked in horror. “You’re living with a girlfriend and didn’t even tell me? ”

“Mind your fucking business! ” she snarled, and the line went dead. It was good to know she took a day to calm down before she called him, he thought grimly as he pulled the phone back from his ear and stared at it. Fuyumi was living with someone? Who was Nakano? Was she dating a civilian or something?

“Well, that went well,” Wakuri said cheerfully, and Enji stared at her blankly. “Let’s get started on this PR training, shall we? Number one, don’t call your son a ‘homosexual’ on a live stream, you sound like a bigot.”

Oh, this was getting off to a marvelous start. Jesus fucking Christ.

.

.

.

.

.

Enji toed out of his boots as Hellion wound around his feet, crying loudly for attention, probably food. The cat was turning into a glutton, he thought grimly as he nudged her aside with the side of his foot. She hissed at him and swatted at his socked foot, and he glared at her.

“Can’t you just behave?” he asked, and she yowled at him. Fuyumi fed her last night, and he fed her this morning, and she had plenty of access to dry food throughout the day, so he didn’t understand what the big deal was. She was getting a little chunky, though. She had a cat tree in the living room, and a wheel she ran on all hours of the night, and she hadn’t gone outside since her first night in, so he didn’t understand where all this weight was coming from. It wasn’t like she was knocked up. She was spayed.

Hellion trotted towards the kitchen, where her food was waiting, and he sighed and followed her as she wound around his ankles, yowling insistently for food.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he said and got down a small portion of wet food, cracking off the foil lid off the little plastic container and knocking it into her bowl. She immediately beset upon it, and he threw away the little tray and stumbled back into the living room, where he collapsed in the armchair. He thought he might watch a World War 2 documentary tonight, or a documentary on the Great Upheaval, because he desperately needed to unwind.

He started up a show and relaxed back in his chair, pulling a blanket out of the basket and throwing it over his legs as he put up the leg rest of the chair.

The house felt... empty, he thought grimly as Hellion came back out of the kitchen and hopped up in his lap, probably leaving her food half consumed, as per usual. She started purring like a little motorboat, making biscuits in his thigh, and he scratched her behind the ears as he watched the narrator describe the political upheaval that led up to World War 2. He was probably going to fall asleep in his chair, he thought, and then his head tilted. There was the sound of multiple feet crunching in the gravel outside, and he heard dim sounds of his sons bickering.

What were they doing back so early? he thought in annoyance. They should have been gone until tomorrow. The door slid open, and his three living sons spilled into the room, taking off their shoes with a clatter.

“I’m just saying, we can’t outright say that—” Yuzuka was saying, and he paused at the sight of Enji. “Oh. How did sensitivity training go, old man?”

“Can you be at least a little more respectful?” Enji pleaded, and Yuzuka grinned at him.