I have to be honest. When I first wrote this chapter, I was just trying to avoid having to write the finale. I had everything planned out - the last few chapters already ready to be written, so I could end the story. And then I suddenly didn't know what to do and how to do it...so instead of starting to write the final few chapters, I ended up writing this...It wasn't planned, and I even thought about deleting it again, because it was so short, and it somewhat took away the momentum of the upcoming finale... But then I just liked it so much, that I had to keep it in. This is in a way the 'final' shoto-focused chapter. Shoto will be a bit part of the final arc up to the last few chapters, but in regards to his relationship with Enji, I thought his is a fitting last part. I hope you enjoy it even though it feels really short. Honestly, I put a few more words in than strictly necessary, so I and at least at a respectable chapter length ^^

This time the chapter upload is a bit earlier, because I know I probably will forget it tomorrow. The family wants to be entertained after all.

The Paint Job

"Are you sure about this?"

Shoto stood in one of the guest rooms of Enji's house, a bucket of off-white paint in one hand. Enji, who had crouched down to pick up two paint rollers he'd just bought the week before, looked over his shoulder at his youngest son. "What do you mean?" he asked, hiding a yawn behind his palm.

This was the last bit of work they had to do in the house: everything else was repaired and refurnished. The fire had barely touched this room, but there was a greyish brown stain on one wall, where the heat from the room next door had permeated through the walls and left its trace on this side.

"I mean, it's not that bad," Shoto said, scrutinizing the spot on the wall. "Once you put the wardrobe back, nobody will see it. And how often do you entertain guests, anyway?"

Frowning, Enji stared at the wall, as if the stain had offended him personally. His joints ached a little as he stood up from his crouching position. "You're right," he relented. "It's probably unnecessary. You only wanted to help with the roof anyway, and now you helped with the whole house." He chuckled nervously, as he moved to take the paint bucket away from Shoto. "That was three months ago. You didn't really sign up for a full-time job, huh?"

"Dad." Shoto didn't let go of the bucket. "I didn't mean I don't want to paint the walls… Just that you look tired."

"What are you talking about?" he rebutted. But as if on cue, Enji had to stifle another yawn.

"You went on the night patrol today, didn't you?" Shoto shook his head. "Did you sleep at all? When did you come home?"

Enji thought there was something curiously amusing about his sixteen-year-old son worrying about his sleep schedule. "Three hours ago," Enji admitted. He was tired.

Shoto scowled. "You should get some sleep."

The boy wouldn't let go of the paint bucket, Enji realized, so he finally gave in. He gave a small shrug. "I have three months to make up for." And the agency needed money. Plus he always expected another attack by Touya, even though the League hadn't shown their faces since the attack earlier that week. There wasn't a lot of time between Enji's patrols.

"That's why you should sleep," Shoto said decidedly, "before you go back on patrol."

Enji shook his head. "But you're here now."

With a small huff of frustration, Shoto put the paint bucket down. "Why didn't you call me? When you came home, why didn't you call to let me know you were tired? We could've rescheduled… Or heck, now that you have your license back, it's not like you need more on your schedule."

Why are we even still doing this? Enji heard the unspoken question. From the start, he had only planned to repair the house himself, just so he had something to do. Now that he had to work again, he could easily hire somebody else to do it for him.

Dejectedly, he avoided his son's gaze. "As I said, I understand if you're getting tired of—"

"That's not what I said," Shoto interrupted. Enji knew that Shoto was glaring at him, but he avoided looking back.

"I like spending time with you," Enji admitted in a very quiet voice.

Shoto said nothing for a long time until: "That's…I mean…" he coughed slightly. "But starting Monday, I'll intern with you anyway, so…" He gestured vaguely with his hands.

Enji nodded. Shoto spoke the truth. "But this…" he looked around the room, "it's different. Don't you think? It's… leisure time?"

Shoto openly gaped at him. Enji avoided his gaze as his eyes helplessly roamed the room, as if that would yield a way to explain his feelings to Shoto. But there were no words in his mind. Repairing the house with Shoto – despite the fears and insecurities he had juggled during the last few months – was some of the most fun he had in years. It felt like something he'd been missing all his life as his time had only revolved around his work. He still felt an odd sense of dread whenever he thought about the fact that soon there would be nothing more to do in the house.

Painting this room was the last thing he could possibly come up with. There were some stains on the ceiling in the corridor still, some of his training weights needed to be replaced, and he needed a new lampshade for the nightlight in Touya's old room… but nothing seemed quite big enough to warrant drafting in Shoto to help. Even painting the room was something Enji could have easily done by himself. When he first suggested it last week, he had half-expected Shoto to tell him to just do it alone.

Shoto snorted. It had taken almost a minute for him to react at all to Enji's words and now, he was apparently amused by them. "…Leisure time?" he repeated. "Repairing your house… You really don't know what 'leisure' means."

"Fun, then." Enji bit back. He glared at Shoto as if to challenge him to laugh about his choice of words again. "I thought it was fun."

To his surprise, Shoto nodded. "Yes, it was." He bent to pick up the paint bucket again.

It stung inexplicably, when Shoto too used past tense for their little father-son-activity. It was like a nail in the coffin. Of course it wouldn't last. Enji had known it all along, had dreaded this day, really – in a very different way to how he dreaded facing Touya and his nightmares.

"It should've been like this all along." Shoto walked past him to the paint rollers Enji had left in the corner. "Ever since that first day, that's what I thought." He picked up one of the rollers and checked its size. "You remember? When Midoriya was here and looked through your merchandise. I thought that's how it should've been."

Enji didn't know what Shoto was talking about. Of course, he remembered Midoriya searching his merchandise and finding his old childhood pictures. It wasn't that long ago and Enji's mind still worked fine, no matter how stubbornly he kept banging his head against brick walls. But even though he remembered that day, he didn't know what Shoto meant with that's how it should've been.

"What do you mean?"

Shoto turned to him. "If you hadn't screwed up, I mean." There was reproach in his bicolored eyes, but not anger, more so a quiet acceptance. "You, being a hero – if you hadn't screwed it up – it could've just been something for me to brag about. To bring my friends home and show them some merch and give them autographs and exclusive stuff, you know? But I didn't get that. Even if…well. But you didn't even allow me to have friends to share the merch with."

Enji was not prepared for the turn of the conversation. He didn't know if he had done anything to set Shoto off, but he immediately called a hasty retreat. "I'm sorry," he said, finally looking at his son. "I'm sorry for everything. I know what I did. And I know I'm too late to make up for that. I understand if you—"

"No, you don't understand!" Shoto snapped, frustrated. "You didn't listen! I had fun, too. We don't know how to talk to each other, and half of the time, I want to freeze you into a human-shaped icicle. But the other half," Shoto turned away angrily, scowling at the stain on the wall. "The other half of the time, I enjoyed it." He set the paint bucket down and crouched to open it aggressively. The off-white paint splashed against his hand and sleeve. "And I think, maybe I still want that…it's how it should've been from the start!" There was a joke there, Enji thought, but he didn't dare make it. "So, go to sleep, Dad."

It was as if the conversation suddenly and without a warning pivoted back to their initial disagreement. Enji was reeling from the change of topic. "But I want to paint the room with you," he said ruefully.

"And I want to have a father, so I need you to survive until we come to an understanding," Shoto replied sharply. "Which means I'd rather you arrive to your next patrol well-rested."

"Shoto!" Enji cried out, suddenly very emotional, feeling a bit overwhelmed.

"Please," Shoto added. "I'll do the painting."

How could Enji deny him now? He nodded, though he felt sad as he did so, knowing it would be the last time they worked on the house.

Suddenly, he remembered the joke that had come to him unbidden earlier. Was it right to make it? Was this really the right time for a laugh? No time like the present, he told himself with a grimace.

Enji was already halfway out the door when he turned back to look at his son. "You know, Shoto," he forced the words out. His voice was strained. "If you want me to sign autographs for your friends, you just need to ask…" Halfway through his teasing he lost his confidence. His voice just fizzled out. He knew he sounded like he had more to say, as if the sentence wasn't over yet. Shoto stared at him, patiently waiting for him to finish his statement.

When Shoto finally realized that Enji had said everything he wanted to say, the boy cocked his head to the side. "We're not that far yet," he scowled.

"It was supposed to be a joke," Enji explained in a fast and strained voice.

"You looked constipated," Shoto deadpanned.

"Shoto!"

Shoto turned back to the wall he intended to paint. "And the timing was off."

He slept surprisingly well that day, for almost six hours straight. When he woke up again it was already evening.

"Shit," he exclaimed, jumping out of bed in a frenzy. He put on his slippers and a shirt, and hurried out of the room. Was Shoto already gone? He wanted to at least be there to send him off. What would Rei say if he had slept through his son's visit completely?

He was halfway to the guest room he had left Shoto in when he heard a noise in the kitchen. Relieved, he went downstairs. "Shoto, why didn't you wake me up? Your mother will have my head if she thinks I didn't feed you properly. Did you have anything for dinner?"

It wasn't the first time he spoke about Rei like that, even though both him and Shoto knew that Rei would do no such thing. She was still too intimidated by Enji.

The door slid open. To his surprise, Fuyumi poked her head into the corridor and looked at him. Her eyes widened a little. "Dad!" she hissed. She quickly rushed to push him back upstairs.

"Fuyumi," he greeted, confused as to why she was steering him back to his bedroom. "What's going…?"

"Please put some pants on, Dad!" She begged, and threw a pair of jeans at him.

He looked down at his boxers. "I didn't know you were visiting," he defended himself with a small pout. This was hardly his fault.

"Azumi is here with me," Fuyumi explained pointing to the jeans. "Please, don't embarrass me."

The moment she named her girlfriend, Enji blushed furiously, quickly putting on the jeans. If he had just barged into the room… Fuyumi had really helped him dodge a bullet there.

"Since when'd you arrive?" he asked. "Is Shoto still around?"

Fuyumi nodded. "He called us over to have dinner. It's almost ready – we're just waiting for you to wake up."

Enji didn't know what to say. There was a lump in his throat. Quietly, he hurried after her down to the living room.

"Fuyumi!" Azumi's voice called out from the kitchen. "I love this kitchen! There's so much space. It's even bigger than the one in the café." She leaned out of the door connecting the kitchen to the living room. "Oh, good morning, Todoroki," she added as she saw Enji.

"Good—" Enji replied automatically, before stumbling over his words. "Eh, good evening, Azumi."

She looked a bit awkward as if she didn't know how to continue the conversation. If she hoped he could help, she would be disappointed.

"I like your kitchen," she repeated her earlier statement.

"Thanks," he said. Then, after a short pause, he added, "If you want to…I mean, I don't use it very often."

Azumi blinked, a little surprised. She nodded jerkily. "Thank you. It's a nice kitchen." It was the third time she was complimenting it. Suddenly, Azumi was distracted by a noise behind her, and a moment later, Azumi pushed Shoto through the door into the living room. "Just keep that klutz out of it!" She sounded exasperated.

Shoto looked a bit affronted, before giving a half-hearted shrug as he sat down on the couch.

"How did the painting go?" Enji asked, dreading the answer. Six hours… Was that long enough for Shoto to finish?

"Oh, it was easy," Shoto replied. "Fuyumi helped with the last part."

At his words, Fuyumi showed him some paint that was still stuck to her sleeve. "I can't get it out," she mumbled sheepishly, "but we're all done."

"All done," Azumi parroted mockingly, as she carried the portable table grill into the living room. "You made a mess."

Shoto shrugged.

"What happened?" Enji asked, worried about what Azumi might be talking about.

Fuyumi scowled a little. "Apparently, he forgot to use the protective foil for the floor." She shook her head. "I swear, half the paint landed on the floorboards."

Shoto nodded. "Yes, sorry. My mistake." He was barely even looking at Enji. Sitting on the couch, he had grabbed for the remote and was aimlessly zapping through the channels. "I don't think it can be washed. I tried. So, unless you want to buy a giant carpet for the entire room, I suggest we pull them out and lay a new floor next week."

This was fun. The relationship between Enji and Shoto is really awkward and kind of fragile, but it's growing, and I really love exploring this in this chapter.
Enji and Shoto are both socially awkward, so they just don't know how to talk to each other. Enji doesn't know how to speak with people period, and he constantly feels like he's walking over eggshells, that evey mistake he makes might end up destroying the peace they created. Meanwhile Shoto is so deadpan, and he doesn't mince his words. Enji can't deal with it.

Enji is tentatively trying to make jokes, but he's horrible at making jokes, cause he has no practic with it. Shoto doesn't mke it any easier either.

Because they really like spending time with each other, with their little 'father-son-repairing the house' activity, and they appreciate the tentative relationship they've built up over the last few months, and are both aware that it's still very fragile, but they want to give it a shot...But they don't know how to express any of that. Like Enji or Shoto could just go and say "You know I had a lot of fun repairing the house, how about building something else together, or how about going on a trip together or how about you just come to dinner for no reason whatsoever other than to talk" but they are both to tentative and unsure (and maybe in Shoto's case also proud, because he doesn't think he should do these steps) to really do that. So instead they need to find a 'necessity' to spend time together. I just like to imagine that in the next few months, while they keep repairing the house, Shoto and/or Enji always 'Accidentally' ruin something else, so they have an excuse to meet again. "Ooops, seems I ruined the floorboards." - "Damn, I backed away with the car, and accientally knocked over the fence." "I had a training accident, and now the wallpaper in th corridor is ruined." "Oops, I didn't know your doors were so fragile. I accidentally kicked the door in" "Sorry, Dad. I know I'm a bad cook. But this is the first time I set a stove on fire." "Did you know your driveway is not meant to withold a rapid exchange from freezing to burning temperatures?"
And of course, they never admit, that any of it wasn't actually accidental. It's just a silent agreement between them, that whenever they finish one task, somebody will have to stumble and accidentaly break something else.

Next chapter, we'll meet the new Interns.