Izuku Todoroki

Awakening from his torpid state, Izuku felt an instantaneous flood of relief from the sensation of Shoto's hand still being clutched in his. To reaffirm that Shoto was truly beside him, he held his breath and listened for the rhythmic breaths of his husband. Indubitably, Shoto was resting.

Swaying spools of shadow from the tree branches outside flickered through the radiant torrent of sunlight pouring in through the somewhat murky windows. Izuku loved waking up to sunny mornings, and a slight smile kneaded through his lips at the sight of the sunlight shimmering in Shoto's dual-colored hair.

"Sunny mornings are my favorite," Izuku chuckled while sitting on the porch with Shoto at his side. "What kind of morning is your favorite?"

Shoto peered up at the azure field dappled with bunches of snowy cotton. "I think any morning is good when I get to see you."

Izuku extended his hand to gently shake Shoto awake, but his hand hovered in abject vacillation. A part of Izuku feared that Shoto would perhaps reflexively prepare to lock Izuku into a lethal position, so he was reluctant to endeavor it. Yet, with a shaking hand, the man with forest-green hair gently rocked Shoto's body back and forth.

As if being unfettered from a century-long slumber of nightmares, Shoto groggily snapped his eyes open, inhaled sharply through his nose, and wound himself up like a machine to promptly sit upright. His eyes scoured the room, but likely upon the subliminal, comforting recognition of being in his own home, the perfervid urgency impregnating Shoto's movements ebbed away.

"Oh," Shoto sighed dejectedly as his remote, steely eyes traced down to the bed.

The undertone of desideration that gripped the precipice of Shoto's voice modulation caused Izuku to frown. "Oh?" he repeated.

"Nothing. Don't ask," Shoto sibilated, but he seemed to be cerebrating over something.

Izuku's eyes scrutinized Shoto's shaking hands, and it was then that he noticed how Shoto's wedding ring had been transferred to his right hand; the ring was dented, scratched, and weatherbeaten, however. "You kept…the ring," Izuku murmured. "What happened?"

For a moment, it was as though a cord had been yanked from Shoto's body as the heterochromatic man entered a torpefied, detached state. "Do you really want to know?" he sighed with a rusted, tattered voice, so Izuku hesitantly nodded. "I was attacked by a dog." By that sentence alone, Izuku could deduce what had transpired, but he still found himself covering his mouth in astonishment. "I'm lucky that I only lost a single finger. I did some horrible things to that dog, even though it had no idea what the ring even meant. But I cut it open just to get the ring back. I needed it. That was all I had." Not a vestige of sorrow suffused his dismal, grim stare.

Oh how Izuku wished to erase the flames of brutality that ignited in his mind. He could hear the yelps, snarls, and growls of what he pictured to be a large dog, but he could also hear cracks of bone and hisses of human pain. He could feel the bestial jaws clamping down on Shoto's finger and tearing it free. He could see the bullets and blades piercing through the flesh of the dog before that dog was torn asunder. He could smell the mud and the blood on the ground, and perhaps even the odor of his husband.

Izuku placed his hand atop Shoto's shivering hand that lacked the ring. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

Shoto's expression deteriorated into a lour drenched in vitriol. "No," he hissed. "You should know me well enough to know that I don't want to talk about it."

"I just want to help you—I'm not trying to force you to say anything. I—"

"I don't need any help," Shoto spat, but that declaration in itself heralded a glaring need for help.

Izuku impetuously replied, "Have you ever thought about how your actions will impact the kids?" He bit his tongue the instant he realized what he'd said.

Shoto gripped the hand resting on his as though to shatter Izuku's bones. "Do you think that was my first thought? I was in a fucking war. Do you think I thought about how my slaughtering of other human beings would impact the kids? If I'd been thinking about that sentimental, moral bullshit, I would have been dead. I didn't have a fucking choice. Aren't you happy that I'm alive? Is that not enough for you? Did you want me to come back with a bouquet of flowers? If you want flowers, go ahead and look at all the fucking flowers on all the graves of all the people that all died." He shook his head and slid out of bed, but as he began to walk away, their door opened.

You didn't have to put it so morbidly, Izuku inwardly sighed. I shouldn't have said that. I knew better, but I guess…I just wanted something that might get him to listen to me. But I don't want the kids being exposed to what seems to be his heavy drinking.

Rina peeked into the room, and upon glancing at her dad that had vanished for the past year and a half, she stumbled inside. "Dad?" She scurried up to him, but Izuku shuffled closer to the two—he was terrified of the prospect that Shoto might be a threat to their own children.

Shoto's breaths were leaden and sporadic as his daughter embraced him, but as he pressed his nails through his hair, he muttered, "Stay away from me." He nudged Rina off of his body and gangled into the bathroom connected to the room; the sound of the shower hissing to life soon greeted their ears.

"Rina, come here," Izuku sighed while pushing off of the bed; he could detect the thorough bewilderment and concern in Rina's crestfallen expression. "I need to talk to you and your brothers." He guided his daughter out of the room.

"Why does Dad look so broken?" Rina candidly queried. "He looks like he's breaking."

"He broke me. I learned from him, so I continued from where he left off. I broke myself. That was all I knew how to do. That was what I'd been trained for. Those were my orders."

Izuku felt like he was going to break from Rina's succinct description of Shoto's mental and physical state. He did not respond to Rina, and instead, he knocked on Kirusuke's door.

"Yeah?" Kirusuke replied to the knock.

"Your dad's home," Izuku murmured with duplicitous bliss.

"He is?!" A thud slapped the ground, and within moments, Kirusuke was reeling open the door.

"But we need to talk about him first." Izuku flinched as the grin that Kirusuke wore morphed into a dubious, neutral expression. "Yuujin…" he sighed once he knocked on his eldest son's door. "Can you come out, please?"

Once Yuujin stepped out of his room, he asked, "What's going on?"

Izuku hesitated, but before he was forced to choke out the words he wanted to say, Kirusuke spoke for him. "Dad's home." He lightly elbowed his brother. "Yuu, c'mon, don't be all sulky."

"How much different would things be…if I killed him on that day? I think about that more than I should. Would that have been the only life I'd taken? Could I have been free? There's a voice in my head that tortures me, Izuku. It keeps telling me to kill myself. I've been trying to kill it before it can kill me, but what if I told you that I agree with it? I've thought about making an attempt more than I'd like to admit."

As the four settled down in the living area, Izuku cleared his throat and took a few deep breaths. "Your dad just got back last night. He's…not doing well. He's been gone for so long because of the war up north. It's the longest war we've had in a while. Um. Your dad is in the military, and he has been for a long time. He fought in that war. It changed him, but he needs time to readjust to life at home. Right now, he's still wired for war. Please try not to make any sudden, loud sounds. Not like a sneeze, but like a glass being broken…" He kneaded his fingers together as he took a breath to continue.

"Is he, like…okay?" Kirusuke asked, but such a question was one that Izuku abhorred the idea of attempting to answer.

"I don't want to sugarcoat it, but I won't go into detail, okay? He's not okay. He's…in a bad place and state of mind. But he's still your dad, and he's still only human. Things will never be completely the same as they once were, and it's going to take a while to get remotely close to that, but please be patient with him. He needs time to heal. It's going to be rough, but we can all pull through. Um. Questions? Comments?"

Rina nodded. "How come he wants me to stay away?" Her typical insouciance never ceased to remind Izuku of Shoto.

"He doesn't want to hurt you." Izuku felt a twinge of pain lancing through his chest at the sight of Rina's forlorn mien.

Yuujin's countenance contorted. "Why would he hurt us? Is he so far gone that he can't see family from enemy?" Derision razed his words.

"It seems like he has a tendency now to lash out," Izuku regretfully muttered. "He doesn't want to hurt any of us, but impulses coupled with habit and emotion don't always mix well. But if that's all, I guess I'll go get him." He glanced around at his kids for any last comments, but the sound of silence was a voice in itself.

"I didn't have a fucking choice. Aren't you happy that I'm alive? Is that not enough for you?"

I know you didn't, Izuku began to muse. I'm more than just happy that you're alive. It's more than enough…

Once Izuku entered the room he shared with Shoto, the droning buzz of the fan in the bathroom hummed in his ears. He knocked on the door and called out his husband's name, but there was no response. A pulsing whip of apprehension cracked around Izuku's neck as he tried the handle of the door, but much to his absolute horror, it was to no avail.

"Shoto?!" he yelped as his heart thrashed with the might of a lion. "Shoto! Please answer me… Shoto!" He jammed his hand into his pocket to retrieve his phone, but as the screen of his phone was illuminated in his hand, there was a click.

A fraction of a second that felt like a minute of silence dripped away, and with the clicking clacks of the handle, the door slid open. Shoto was standing in the dissipating steam of the bathroom, but the majority of his weight was pressed against the wall and door frame. There was a clear contrast between the lucid leaves of light hugging Shoto's body and the tenebrous tendrils of ambiguity scratching at his eyes.

"Sh-Shoto, why weren't you answering? I thought… I thought you'd—"

Unenthused, Shoto interjected, "It's nothing. I was lost in thought." His eyes seemed to reflect the intense ferocity of a feral animal, yet they were placid and inscrutable like the eyes of a dust-dipped doll.

Still somewhat disconcerted by the assumed ordeal that Izuku plunged himself into, he nonetheless asked, "Are you feeling okay?"

There was almost a whisper of sardonic levity lacing the minor arches of Shoto's brows. "No to one and yes to the other. What do you want?" His gaze sank to the floor.

"You don't look well, Shoto," Izuku verbally noted. "But as long as you can, well, not be, uh, violent…around the kids, I want you to see them all. They're waiting for you downstairs." He was almost inclined to say that he could see his husband's eyelids raise up a bit more.

Shoto nodded. "I'll be fine…at least for a little while." Something about his skittering words caused Izuku's skin to shudder.

Once the two descended the stairs and approached the living room, Izuku grinned as he waved at the kids from around the corner. "Welcome your dad home," he announced.

Shoto hobbled into the living area, and immediately, Kirusuke sprang up from the couch and welcomed Shoto with his arms spread out. Rina casually followed suit, and Yuujin remained seated while his siblings hugged their dad.

"Welcome back!" Kirusuke exclaimed while latching onto Shoto.

"You've…all grown," Shoto strained to whisper.

"You're kind of the same, but, like, skinnier with more scars. Kinda cool." Kirusuke pointed to Shoto's left hand. "Doesn't that hurt? How do you lose just a finger?"

Shoto shook his head. "I don't think that makes me 'cool,' but this doesn't hurt anymore. I lost it to a dog." Izuku silently thanked Shoto for sparing the kids the details about the ring retrieval.

While Kirusuke released his dad, Rina continued to cling onto Shoto like a koala. "I missed you," she chimed in.

"Yuu," Izuku sighed, "please give him a hug. I know… C'mon." He gestured for Yuujin to join them.

"I don't know what to say to that," Shoto replied to Rina.

Yuujin frowned as he offered Shoto a half-assed hug. "Maybe, 'I missed you too,' like any normal person would say," he muttered.

"It's okay," Rina assured her dad.

"Maybe I'm not a normal person," Shoto sighed while prying Rina off of his hip and walking into the kitchen.

I forgot to hide the alcohol, Izuku inwardly berated himself. As long as I'm here to make sure he doesn't drink too much…

Sure enough, Shoto marched towards the alcohol, so Izuku grasped his husband's shoulder and shook his head. "Please at least eat something with it," he pleaded.

"I need it now," Shoto snapped in a baritone growl. "Don't get in my way."

"And our dad's an alcoholic," Yuujin spat.

"One glass," Izuku asserted. "I can't risk you drinking any more than that. You don't need more tha—"

A scalding shockwave of throbbing, serrated pinpricks tore through Izuku's cheek as his head jerked to the side. It was then that he became cognizant that Shoto had struck his cheek. Of course, Izuku was acutely aware that Shoto was capable of utterly savaging what he had come to know as his life like a predator to its prey, but he was choked by the deplorable truth—that his husband would deliberately cause him physical harm without remorse.