Without A Fight

When Azumi finally poked her head into the living room, Fuyumi had already separated from him. She sat somewhat sheepishly next to Enji, dapping the napkin against her swollen eyes as if that would help in hiding the evidence of her tears.

Enji still didn't have much contact with Azumi, but after their three encounters, he got the impression that the frown was a permanent fixture on her face. Black eyes scrutinized Fuyumi with concern. Then, Azumi seemed to conclude that while Fuyumu had obviously cried and looked rather tired, she was mostly alright. The tall woman's shoulders slumped a little as some tension left her body.

"Good evening," she greeted in a neutral tone. "I brought desert." She lifted the small box she carried in her hands and came up next to the table in two long strides. Enji noticed she was really not much shorter than him. If this apartment felt so tiny to him, how could she stand it here?

"Is everything okay?" Azumi put the box on the table opposite Enji. "You've talked?" Her voice was calm, but there was an uncertain edge to it.

Fuyumi visibly drew herself together. She stood up, hugged her girlfriend, then turned to her father. "Dad, meet Kawasaki Azumi. Azumi, my dad." She snickered a little as she introduced them; the fact that they of course already knew who the other was easily apparent.

Azumi offered a handshake as Enji stood up to greet her as well. She still looked uncertain. Maybe she didn't like the prospect of 'meeting the parents' - or parent, singular, in this case. Or, she remembered their last encounter and this coming-out situation was uncomfortable for her.

"It's an honor," she mumbled. Despite her toneless small voice, her handshake was firm.

"Nice to meet you, finally for real." He was somewhat glad when she let his hand go. She probably felt the same, because the moment they separated her face lit up a little. When she slowly wiped her right palm against her trousers, he wasn't even sure if she did it consciously. She seemed to realize it soon enough, as her hand suddenly froze and she clasped it with her left.

"After what Fuyumi said, I'm expecting the world's best Kuzumochi." Enji looked at the dessert box, deciding to make an effort in upholding some form of conversation.

"Right, that's my cue," Fuyumi perked in. She quickly gathered most of the plates and bowls and asked Azumi to take the rest. "I need to clean up," Fuyumi called out to him as she vanished into the kitchen.

For a minute or two he sat bored in the kitchen, feeling like a foreign object in a tiny little box. Then, he sat back down, waiting for Fuyumi to return. He couldn't deny that he felt a little disappointed when only Azumi returned, a tray with three small plates and tea in her hand. Enji didn't look forward to being alone with Azumi, even if only for the few minutes Fuyumi needed in the bathroom. After all, he got the impression that Azumi didn't particularly like him.

Quietly, she put a plate down in front of him. It was empty, the sweets still safely tucked away in their box. She didn't say a word as she sat opposite him, black eyes ever so scrutinizing as she looked over. Enji couldn't help but squirm under her gaze. Her silence made him uncomfortable, like he had something on his face, or he had done something wrong. It was infuriating! Normally, he would prefer silent company to all those people who talked too much and without pause. He didn't consider himself a sociable person; keeping a conversation running was often exhaustingly difficult for him unless there was some practical purpose to it. Now, here he sat, with a woman who so obviously shared this trait with him, and the quiet made him want to run away. He felt judged under her gaze.

"You just come from work?" He bit his tongue in frustration. If this had been a 'who talks first' game, he would have lost.

"No," she answered, and for a right minute he thought this was all she was going to say. "We don't offer dinner." By 'we', he assumed she meant the café she worked at. "I was with my sister."

"You…" He stopped before he could ask an utterly ludicrous and unnecessary question like 'You have a sister?'. She just told him, after all. Helplessly, his eyes flickered to the door into the corridor, but Fuyumi was still not back.

"She was pushing this meeting off for a while."

Enji furrowed his brows at her. "Your sister?"

"Fuyumi," Azumi said, in an exasperated tone as if he were daft to not understand that.

Enji's furrowed brows turned into a deeper frown. He didn't like that tone. Defensively, he crossed his arms. "I thought we were talking about your sister."

"Why would we be talking about my sister?" She spoke as if it hadn't been her who had first mentioned her sister.

"You…" he decided to be the greater man here and not insist on something to begin. "Not that it matters."

She opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something, before closing it again and glaring at her empty plate, then at the door to which Enji's own eyes kept wandering to as well. Obviously, they were both secretly praying for her return.

"What did she tell you?" Enji asked after another minute that felt like eternity. The curiosity was eating at him. Was she always this rude to every stranger she met, he wondered, had he left a negative impression, or was it something Fuyumi had told her? "About," he pointed at himself, then vaguely at the door, "me, the family, our relationship."

"I know the highlights." Azumi squirmed a little. "I mean, most of the important things."

Enji nodded, not asking any further.

He realized that once he got over the initial surprise of her silence, and after he managed to put their odd conversation behind him, the silence became more bearable with every second that passed. He relaxed a little and she looked like some tension was leaving her too.

By the time Fuyumi finally made it back to the living room after what surely must have been ten minutes at least, Azumi's shoulders had dropped fully. Far enough that or the first time, he realized that she did not, in fact, have straight shoulders. The sloped softly, making her figure much thinner than he expected. Every time he'd met her before, her shoulders were constantly drawn up and tense.

Fuyumi gave her a small peck on the cheek as she sat down next to her. The brunette blushed a bit as her eyes quickly checked for Enji's reaction. He tried not to show anything on his face. Finally, even the last bit of tension seemed to ease off her. After she put some Kuzumochi on all of their plates, she even propped up a knee and lazily leaned her head against it as if she slowly started to forget about Enji's presence all together.

It was a quiet affair. Neither Azumi nor he talked much. They both enjoyed their dessert – Enji with much more gusto than Azumi, as it was his favorite while she probably made and ate it regularly. Fuyumi provided soothing background noise as they ate, talking about her work, colleagues, and students, and about how Shoto had found out about her and Azumi. Apparently, he had stumbled upon them kissing at her birthday party, when she wasn't technically out yet.

"Natsuo always knew," Fuyumi continued explaining. "I don't know who told him. I never really came out to him. Told him for the first time, really, on Tuesday, but he already knew."

"I bet it was your mom." It was the first time in the fifteen or so minutes Azumi spoke up. Lazily, she popped another helping of Kuzumochi into her mouth and that was all she said about the topic. She ate noisily, but that too had long become background noise.

He was surprised at how fast the time passed. Sooner than he had expected, the evening came to its end.

"You should really consider it." Fuyumi was saying. The conversation had finally gone full circle, and she was talking about the upcoming psychological evaluation Nakamura had spoken about. He really didn't want to do that. "Even if you don't want to get your license back, then at least you might have the option." Fuyumi looked at Azumi for help. "It's much better to decide yourself what you want to do, rather than have some committee decide it, right?"

"I'm tired." It wasn't the first time he admitted it, but it still was difficult to do so.

Fuyumi hunched in on herself. "I know…" Her voice was small and uncertain. "It's just…"

He was admittedly confused by her insistence. After everything he had ruined because of this work and his ambition, he didn't think she'd want him to continue. "I didn't think this would be so important for you?" he wondered honestly.

"No," she shook her head, "that's not it. It's not about me. Just… I thought you wanted this." She gestured to him. "All you ever wanted."

"Maybe I was wrong," he said, but there was no passion in his words.

"You worked so hard for that," she continued, unperturbed, "I didn't think, I'd ever see you…" At this point, her voice drifted off, as if she had just realized what she was about to say and decided not to.

His eyes narrowed, certain he wouldn't like it. "What? See me… what?"

"Give up like that."

His eyes grew impossibly wide. "I didn't…" he started, but stopped.

Hadn't he? Of course he had. He knew he had. He'd just been too tired to continue fighting. To anybody else, he would've easily admitted it. If anybody else had told him so, he would have just accepted it as a simple fact. Maybe he'd grit his teeth at it, but he wouldn't deny this truth. But from his own daughter... Suddenly, being seen by her as somebody who just gave up, was impossible to bear.

"It's so unlike you."

Enji closed his eyes and sighed. "Yeah…" He pushed up from where he sat. "I think that's my cue to go."

"Dad, no! I just—" she immediately protested.

"No, you're right. But I'm tired." Now that he said it again, it sounded like a pathetic excuse. "I should go, it's getting late."

Fuyumi once more looked at Azumi as if asking for help, before she finally relented.

"Yes, of course… just let me…," she grabbed the half-empty box of Kuzumochi. "Give me a minute, then you can take that back home." He didn't fight her suggestion. So shortly after, he found himself alone with Azumi again, while Fuyumi worked in the kitchen.

"She's right, I think." Azumi spoke unprompted. He wasn't certain which part of Fuyumi's speech she meant. "It's much better if you can decide on your own terms." She shrugged, as if the whole topic didn't concern her anyway, and Enji guessed that it in fact didn't. "It's your job, your life. Don't let the media or the public opinion decide what to do with it."

Enji had to concede to that. It wasn't like he particularly liked the fact that they had just taken his license and kicked him out as soon as they thought he wasn't needed anymore, after everything he had done… But right… After everything he had done calling himself a hero, there was a certain irony to that. Endeavor was nobody's hero anymore, and maybe it was better that way.

At that moment, Fuyumi entered the living room again, the box in her hand, tightly taped shut with sellotape. "In any case, giving up is one thing," Azumi said, not really even looking at him anymore, but glancing at her girlfriend. "But giving up without a fight?"

He didn't remember the last time he felt that insulted. And by his daughter's girlfriend, no less. Wouldn't it be much more prone of her to treat him with respect. Who wanted to start a feud with their lover's parents? He felt the sudden need to defend himself. "I didn't!" He too, was now standing up from the table. "I didn't just 'give up'." Why would she even think that. He had tried to face the media circus for an entire month. He had continued to do his job, until the Hero Association had fallen into his back. "Why would you say that?" Was that how his downfall was perceived? Giving up without a fight? What did the people expect of him, facing up against the entire country?

Azumi didn't answer. No matter how hard he glared at her, challenged her to explain herself, she didn't back down and didn't say anything.

"What about Touya?"

"What?"

Fuyumi's voice caught him off-guard. He hadn't expected it. Enji already started to turn for his jacket, when Fuyumi suddenly spoke up.

"Touya. I thought you wanted to stop him."

He froze with his back to her, only half-wearing his jacket. Hesitatingly, he glanced back at the two women. But he had no answer for that. When he gave up his license, he had given up on the hunt for Touya, too. What was he supposed to do? He was just a man, just a civilian. He wasn't Endeavor anymore. Endeavor would have an answer.

But he didn't tell her that. It would sound pathetic, and he did not want to look pathetic in her eyes.

Still, as he left the Kawasaki apartment, he was sure fleeing like this was more pathetic than simply admitting to his weakness would have been.