Shoto receive a message that piqued his interest the next day. Endeavor was good about only contacting his son when it pertained to business, but he'd also made it clear, albeit without direct words, that Shoto would be temporarily lessening his hands-on Hero training once Bashira came into the picture. As annoying as the setback had been, Shoto knew that his father wouldn't be particularly generous with the grace period; despite the marriage and "bonding time" being Endeavor's idea, he'd made it a mission to personally train Shoto much, much before any ideas of nuptials were the faintest possibility. Their professional work would always reign as their greatest duty.

While the League of Villains hadn't been causing nearly as much trouble as they had a year or two prior, the fact that most of the core members were still alive and running free made it certain that the world hadn't seen the last of them. Sightings of the villains were reported on the regular but most turned up inconclusive or false. Apparently, though, there was a strong enough lead on the one named Dabi for Endeavor himself to pursue, and the Number One requested for Shoto to be present for the raid as well.

Shoto was a little wary, if he were honest. Dabi was one of the most formidable foes that the Pros hadn't yet managed to overtake, and Shoto wasn't all the way sure why his father wanted him to be the one to provide back-up and support. But he wasn't about to argue either. Shoto was going to be a Hero. This type of thing would be his everyday life. He had to get used to being called to the front lines at any moment.

So did Bashira.

It was late in the afternoon when Shoto exchanged some brief messages with his dad. They would be meeting around midnight and conducting their investigation in the earliest hours of the morning. The sun was still out when the plans were made, and Shoto wandered into the family room to find Bashira curled up on the couch, flipping through TV channels. She did that a lot, he was starting to notice; Bashira lounged around, seemingly at ease and care-free, when there were probably plenty of other responsibilities and productive tasks she could have chosen to focus on instead. She was either doing nothing or overworking herself, Shoto inwardly chastised. There was no balance with her.

"Hey."

Bashira only half perked up when Shoto spoke, glancing his way but not altering her position. She reminded him of a cat.

"I've been assigned to a mission tonight," Shoto relayed, careful to keep the details mum. "I'll be leaving late. I may not be back before morning."

Bashira only blinked, and Shoto wondered if she realized any of the implications of what he'd told her.

"Okay," Bashira said, turning back to the TV. There was a pause. "Are you going to take a nap now, then? Or do you want to watch a movie or something?"

It was one of the stranger things Shoto had ever heard from her and he found himself stuck. It would be wise to rest, he knew, but it seemed like he was supposed to want to spend time with Bashira, too. They'd never actually tried to relax together, had they?

How could that idea sound so uncomfortable?

"I should try to sleep while I can," Shoto answered. He thought about finishing with "maybe next time" but somehow the phrase didn't feel right. "Thanks anyway."

Bashira nodded, her attention apparently wrapped up in the show playing. It didn't seem like she was going to say anything more so Shoto retreated to his room. Oddly, the exchange left him feeling both distantly anxious and numb.

But that probably had more to do with pre-mission jitters.

Bashira had been dreaming. It wasn't anything good or bad – just weird. She was going through a usual day at U.A. but her mind brought up some unusual elements, like old classmates suddenly blending into her current class and an ex-crush of hers showing up in the lunch room. It was during lunch when she'd noticed and became annoyed by knocking. She'd been trying to talk to Asahi, the guy she'd been chasing in the months before she'd left Ashoro to marry Shoto, when the pounding noises broke her concentration and she'd taken to searching the lunch room in pursuit of the cause instead.

Bashira woke up slowly but it didn't take more than a few seconds to realize that someone actually knocking at the door was ultimately the reason she was awake.

After a brief but frantic intake of her surroundings, Bashira put together that she'd fallen asleep on the couch. Shoto would have been gone for a few hours already, and someone knocking at the door at 4:00 AM couldn't be bringing basic news.

The girl was up and stalking towards the door before her mind could catch up. She couldn't even think about hesitating before she was unlocking the knob and twisting it open.

Her thoughts were a whirlwind. Obviously someone ominous wouldn't need to knock. Right? It had to have been someone safe. But to be visiting at such an ungodly time meant an emergency. Something was happening.

Bashira's rational side faltered as she took in the man standing on her stoop.

A hobo.

A hobo was knocking at her door just before dawn.

How had he gotten onto campus? What did he want? Was he trying to politely rob her? Did he want to take her as a hostage to prove some kind of point? The Todoroki family was apparently a pretty big deal. Was he so desperate for money or recognition to single out Bashira as a victim while Shoto was away? How would he have even known?

It was amazing how much whipped across Bashira's brain in only a breath's worth of time.

The man before he was dressed in baggy black clothes. His hair was a ragged mess, his face beginning to grow an uncontrolled beard, and his eyes bloodshot.

A drunk hobo, Bashira pinned.

The adult regarded Bashira so surely that she wanted to shrink under his evaluation. He was awfully alert for a junkie.

"Todoroki was injured and is in the hospital," the man spoke. Bashira gaped for more than one reason. "It's up to you if you want to go there to see him or not, but I'm required to inform you and arrange for transportation if necessary."

Bashira couldn't string a full sentence together. Everything was muddled, buzzing, her adrenaline overreacting. There was too much she didn't understand in such a short span of time.

The man before her shifted, shoving his hands into his pockets. "By the way I'm Aizawa Shota, Todoroki's teacher."

That information helped. At least Bashira knew this wasn't some random, unnamed guy showing up and giving her an invitation to leave.

Did she want to leave? To go to the hospital? To see Shoto?

How serious was it? Was he okay? People got sent to the hospital for everything. Shoto wasn't just any average person, though: he was a Hero.

Bashira struggled to get a grip. She didn't want to keep Aizawa waiting. He seemed impatient, yet not terribly concerned. That meant Shoto wasn't on death row, at least? He had to have been fine if his teacher wasn't all that worried.

But Bashira knew she couldn't say no. How could she say she didn't care that much and would just go back to bed? It'd be a lie. Even if Shoto wasn't in immediate danger he was still hospitalized. Even if she wasn't really his wife, in the sentimental sense, she really did care.

She really was scared.

"Just give me a second," Bashira heard herself say. The words sounded jumbled. "I'll be right out."

Bashira had been ushered into a taxi at the school gates, but Aizawa didn't accompany her for the trip. She was glad. That would have been awkward.

The ride was still uncomfortable but mostly because Bashira was battling with her feelings. Hospitals had always put her on edge. Her grandmother had reoccurring breathing problems that led her to being admitted a few times a year. Bashira didn't always go to see her, but her grandfather sometimes bullied her into it. It wasn't that she didn't give a hoot, but she knew her grandmother hated being weak and tied up to machines as much as Bashira hated seeing her that way. It was an unspoken agreement between the women, maybe, that kept Bashira away more often than not.

Would it be the same with Shoto? Would he be ashamed that he'd been hurt? Bashira would have to play it cool. Maybe she could tease him about waking her up so early.

If he was actually okay, she'd be relieved enough to easily throw a joke his way.

Once she got to the hospital, Bashira wasn't sure what to do. The first desk she came to directed her towards another wing, and there the attendant only told her to sit down and wait for news from the doctor. The sun had only just risen but there were a handful of other people in the sitting area with her.

There was a TV against the opposite wall that Bashira tried to concentrate on. It was muted with subtitles that she couldn't keep up with. What started out as stupid infomercials eventually lead into the morning news. Twenty minutes into the broadcast there was still no mention of Shoto or any major Hero work from the night before. Did that mean it hadn't been that big of an issue? Or was it some secretive mission the authorities didn't want reported just yet?

Bashira grew more unsettled as she waited. If Shoto wasn't badly injured then what was taking so long?

No matter how much time had actually passed, it felt like hours afterwards when someone finally came out and called for "Todoroki".

Bashira straightened up at the name but didn't stand right away. She wasn't a Todoroki. But Shoto was. So they must have been asking for her.

As Bashira pulled herself to her feet and did her best to collect herself, there was another girl who leapt up and scurried towards the doctor without much hesitation. Bashira took a couple of steps before she noticed and paused. The other girl hadn't realized Bashira had moved too, but the doctor had. He raised a brow, staring at the teenager pointedly, and his line of focus was what brought the other girl to turn around in confusion.

She had silvery-grey hair with red chunks. Her eyes were somewhat masked by a pair of glasses but her face looked young. Her style was sort of frumpy, though. She wore dress pants and a shapeless, grandma kind of sweater.

Bashira panicked for a split second. Was this Shoto's mother?

No. She didn't seem old enough. So…

Fuyumi?

Bashira stiffened, keeping herself as still as a statue, letting Fuyumi gage the situation and make her own decision. Fuyumi had more of a right, Bashira rationalized. Fuyumi could decide if Bashira would stay waiting outside or go in as part of the family.

It seemed to take Fuyumi a second more than Bashira to put the pieces together... but then she smiled. Bashira was both perplexed and a little humiliated that her eyes welled up when Fuyumi extended an open hand, beckoning Bashira forward.