Shouto didn't tell his parents about the hold-up incident. By the next morning, it felt like a bad dream. The only evidence was a text from Midoriya that read: Hand's healing nicely! Should be fine in a week.

That still meant an entire week with a burned hand that he didn't deserve to have. With a sigh, Shouto hauled himself up and got ready for the day. He'd been getting up earlier lately, his body naturally impatient to get moving. In high school he usually felt like he could sleep for an entire day uninterrupted, but that was when he was physically exhausting himself with endless workout routines. Now, it felt like he always had too much energy burning underneath his skin, making him antsy and on edge.

So the end result was him stalking down the halls a little after 7'oclock, not sure where he was going, just knowing he couldn't stay in bed.

He ended up sitting on the bench by the koi pond, watching the fish swim in slow circles.

As a child, he had enjoyed dipping a finger into the pond and freezing a circle around it. When he was still too young to understand death, he had imagined that if he froze the fish they would look just like the ink paintings hanging up in his mother's room, perfect and still. Then he'd actually managed to graze the back of a koi with his finger once. With a final spasm, it had frozen solid and dropped like a rock. It stared at him from the bottom of the pond, dead eyes covered in a sheen of ice.

He hadn't told anyone. Instead, he had fled to his room and avoided the courtyard for the rest of the day. When the fish finally thawed and floated belly up on the surface, the blame had fallen on Natsuo. He was the one with the ice and the surly streak. Gentle Fuyumi and perfect Shouto weren't even on the suspect list. Shouto wasn't sure what punishment had befallen him. He spent so little time around his siblings that he hadn't seen the aftermath. All he remembered was a sense of relief, of avoiding the wrath of an accidental murder.

Every single corner of this house is filled with unpleasant memories.

His musing was cut off by the sound of his parents talking from the dining room. It didn't sound like they were arguing, exactly, but any time they were alone talking always put Shouto on edge. More unpleasant memories, his mom sequestered in the bathroom, nursing a black eye. It was second nature for him to get up and creep closer, padding softly to avoid his crutches squeaking.

"-police don't have any solid leads," Endeavor's voice rumbled, low and irritated. "We'll have to hope I beat them to it, is all."

Police? Is this about last night?

Rei's voice replied, nervous and strained, "And what then? Find a back-alley asylum? Enji, he needs help. Real help. Not a cover up."

A shiver ran down Shouto's spine at the word asylum. He had no context for the conversation, but his brain jumped to all sorts of horrifying conclusions.

This is about last night, isn't it? They found out about me losing control of my Quirk and burning Midoriya and now they're trying to label me dangerous and have me institutionalized.

A rational part of his brain tried to hush him, to tell him that was ridiculous. People weren't institutionalized for minor things like that. Although...he knew there were facilities, places for people who's Quirks presented a clear and present danger to the public. Not quite prison, just places to hide away the people who couldn't function in society.

"People like him go to jails, not hospitals," Endeavor said. "What do you think will happen if he goes to trial, Rei? Do you want him to spend the rest of his life behind bars?"

Okay, maybe this isn't about me.

Even his high-strung, perfectionist parents wouldn't overreact this bad to mild immolation. However, he was at a loss for who else they could be referring to.

Shouto was as close as he dared get. If he went any further, he risked his outline being visible through the paper on the door. He stayed where he was, holding his breath. It made him feel four years old again, to be eavesdropping like this, but he had to know.

"You're not worried about what happens to him. You're worried about your reputation," Rei accused. "The only way you're capable of feeling remorse is realizing something has negative consequences for you. "

Instinctively, Shouto flinched, waiting for the sound of a smack. It was a formula he'd overhead as a child: his mother daring to speak up only to be forcefully shoved down. The only thing he could hear was his father's voice, now too low and hushed for him to make out. Although individual words blurred together, the tone was soft and confident. Whatever the contents, though, they were enough to wring a few gentle sobs from Rei.

"I can't do this," she said, voice cracked and high. "How much more does our family have to suffer?"

More indiscernible words from Endeavor, but he didn't get far before Rei cut him off.

"This is your fault."

Rei wasn't yelling, but there was a chill to her words that carried more anger than sheer volume would.

Endeavor's response was a sullen, "I know."

More of Rei's gentle sobs, muffled so that Shouto could barely make them out. He stood there for a few minutes, wanting to reach out to her, afraid to out himself as an eavesdropper, unsure of what he would say even if he did. Finally, he retreated back to the courtyard as silently as he arrived, moving to the far end so he wouldn't have to hear his mother cry.

His father was late leaving for work that day, finally exiting the house closer to noon. All that meant was that he had some sort of stakeout or late-night sting and wouldn't be back until closer to dawn. Which meant Shouto could breathe easy and relax.

Instead, he spent most of the day finding excuses to check in on his mother. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy when she came to breakfast, and even though that faded, she still looked downcast. It reminded him of the way she looked shortly before the tea kettle incident. She was listless and distracted, and he wanted to ask her what was wrong but he didn't know how.

Or rather, he did know how, but a small part of him felt five years old and helpless, afraid that even the smallest nudge would send her off the edge.

Come dinner, he was ready to dance around the subject. His mother was silent, staring absently into her bowl of miso. She looked exhausted.

"Do you want to play a round of mahjong after dinner?" he asked.

Rei turned her gaze on him, staring uncomprehending for a few seconds before she registered what he said.

"Sure, sweetie," she replied, smiling. "It's rare for you to want to play a game."

That was because Shouto hated games. He'd never had a chance to play any growing up, and it was one of those things that everyone else seemed to intuitively understand, another social interaction he'd never been given the study guide for. That, and he had once made the mistake of betting chores on a round of Pokemon against Kaminari and had ended up vacuuming the common room for a semester.

His mother resumed her staredown with her food, but the only thing she chewed was her bottom lip.

"It's going to get cold soon," Shouto pointed out.

Another lag between Rei hearing and comprehending, this time followed by a demure laugh.

"Are you nagging me?" she teased.

"I don't know. Maybe."

At his prodding, she finally began to eat. Shouto watched her take small bites, deliberating a few moments more before finally blurting, "Did dad do something to hurt you earlier today?"

Rei froze with her spoon halfway to her mouth, giving Shouto a shocked look.

"No. Your father knows better than to lay a hand on me these days," she replied.

The terms of their truce. Whatever it was that kept them barely together, Shouto hadn't seen his father hurt his mother since her release from the hospital. However, he'd always quietly feared that maybe the old man had just learned how to do it behind closed doors. Even with Rei claiming Endeavor wouldn't lay a hand on her, Shouto had a hard time believing it.

"It's just...this morning your eyes were red. It looked like you had been crying," Shouto explained. All that was true, and he didn't even need to mention the eavesdropping. He examined Rei with a careful eye, trying to gauge what she was feeling.

"Oh, that," Rei said, sighing. She stirred her soup a few times, spoon and bowl singing a low note where they rubbed together. "No, that wasn't because of your father, really. I was just...thinking back on all the things I regret."

Shouto wasn't sure how that puzzle piece fit in with the rest of the of the overheard conversation. However, regret was a dangerous topic to navigate around his mother. How to agree with her regret without sounding like he blamed her?

"I...don't think you can regret decisions you weren't allowed to make," he ventured, picking his words carefully.

"I know, it's just...there were things I should have done for you children that I didn't. It was my duty as your mother to keep you safe, and I failed."

She was still looking into her soup, but Shouto couldn't tell if she was deliberately avoiding eye contact or just lost in thought.

"What could you possibly have done differently?" he asked, trying and failing to keep all of the ice out of his voice.

Rei let out another sigh, setting down her spoon. When she frowned, it magnified her wrinkles, making her look old and fragile.

"I should have left. I thought about it all the time," she confessed, "but then I would talk myself out of it. I was afraid of either losing custody and not seeing my children again, or of not being able to support four children on my own. But if I'm honest, that wasn't what kept me around."

Rei blinked rapidly, her hand clenching into a fist on the table. Just like he had earlier in the morning, Shouto got the distinct feeling that he was intruding on something private. Except unlike eavesdropping, he actually had to be here, had to see his mother holding back tears.

However, Rei was at her core a woman made of metal, and she contained her emotions as she spoke.

"I was worried about what my parents would think. I was worried about how disappointed they would be if I backed out. They were the ones who wanted the marriage in the first place, and I was afraid that if I left they'd never forgive me."

As much as he wanted to offer comfort, Shouto couldn't refute what she said. His grandparents had been around often when he was younger. They were prim, high society people that didn't seem to enjoy or understand children. Most of his memories of them involved being scolded for running indoors or shouting too loudly. After his mother was hospitalized, they came around far less often. Even once she was released, he only saw them once or twice a year. If he walked on eggshells around his mother, they walked on glass, their discomfort and dissatisfaction with a fallible daughter all too evident.

"Shouto, I…"

Hesitantly, his mother reached across the table and laid her hand over his. Shouto resisted the urge to yank away, but he couldn't stop himself from tensing up. His Quirk coiled in his stomach, threatening to flush through his body.

"I want you to know that I would never stop supporting you or loving you, no matter what decisions you make."

Shouto sucked in a breath, daring to hold her touch a few moments more before pulling his hand away. He was heating up, and memories of last night and Midoriya's burned skin came to mind. Fortunately, his mother didn't look hurt. Her soft smile never left her face. Somehow, even after having so much taken from her, she had managed to reclaim some happiness for herself. A small piece. Less than what she deserved.

"It's not too late to leave," Shouto said.

Rei shook her head in immediate dismissal, but that didn't deter Shouto from continuing.

"What's keeping you here? You don't need to stay. You could go anywhere, be happy-"

"I'm an old woman, sweetie. It's too late for me to-"

"No it's not!" Shouto yelled, slamming his hand on the table.

The force scattered a flurry of sparks from his sizzling fingertips. Swearing, he hurried to beat them out, making sure none caught light. Rei jumped up from her seat to pat out a few errant sparks that were beyond his reach. Humiliated, Shouto put his hands in his lap and concentrated on turning off his Quirk.

After making sure the threat of house fire was abated, Rei turned to him and asked, "Are you okay?"

Shouto nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Edging close to him, Rei sat back on her knees. She observed him for a few seconds, making a half-motion as if to touch him, then thought better of it. There was still a thin line of smoke curling off his fingers.

"Your father and I actually did talk about divorce a few years ago, after you moved out. In fact, the subject still comes up once in a while," she said, tracing her nails over the grain in the table.

"Why didn't you go through with it?"

Rei shrugged, explaining, "If this was ten years ago, it would be the right decision. Now, though… I suppose I'm content. Your father minds his own business, so I'm basically independent. But it's preferable to being completely alone, I suppose."

"Is that all you want from life?" Shouto asked. "You're not happy."

"No, but I'm not completely miserable, either," Rei rationalized. "For a long time, I didn't dare to hope for even this. I consider myself lucky."

Shouto didn't, but he knew he couldn't change her mind. Somewhere in her life, Rei had given up on fighting for a happy ending, and had settled for mediocrity.

Is that what happens when you get older? You tell yourself you were delusional for wanting more? You decide fighting for what you want isn't worth the effort? Is that what's happening to me?

He didn't press his mother further the rest of the evening, but his mood was so sour that he excused himself to bed after only one round of mahjong.

He had known since he was a child that he didn't want to be like his father when he grew up. Now, however, he was pretty certain he didn't want to be like his mother, either. Who did he want to be?

I'm twenty-two. I'm already grown up. Shouldn't I have figured this out by now?

But he hadn't, and the more he thought about it, the more lost and confused he felt.