Bashira was having an out-of-body experience while she followed Fuyumi through the hallways of the hospital. Fuyumi was enraptured in every word coming out of the doctor leading them but Bashira was deaf to all of it. She couldn't concentrate. The situation with Shoto had rattled her enough in the beginning, then there was the unexpected meeting with her sister-in-law – who seemed to take an unnatural comfort in clinging to Bashira's hand like her palm was a personal stress ball.
They soon came to Shoto's room, which Bashira only realized once they were inside the curtains and she recognized the body in the bed. She instantly felt out of place and hovered a little further away than was probably normal as the doctor checked on Shoto's vitals. Thankfully, Fuyumi let go of Bashira's fingers when she caught site of her brother, opting to fuss over him instead.
He was fine. Bashira realized that much.
Fuyumi focused on the doctor's commentary but Bashira's brain filtered through most of the jumble. She was more intent on watching Shoto. He was unconscious and wearing an oxygen mask, which sparked a flare of annoyance in her chest. Who was that crock to tell them Shoto was okay when he was passed out and covered in wires? He looked like he was on life support!
Bashira clenched her jaw and she sharpened her attention to listen in a little better on the exchange taking place. There were injuries due to smoke inhalation, the doctor said. Shoto's body was slightly better adapted to the effects of flames than the average person but still not invincible. There wouldn't be any lasting damage; the hospital stay was more of a precaution, considering Shoto was still a high school student – top Hero potential or not.
Bashira began to zone out again once she got enough of the story to placate her anger. It could have been a lot worse. She had to keep telling herself that. At least this way, at the end of the day, Shoto was going to be okay.
The doctor and Fuyumi were drowned out completely again as Bashira turned away from the scene, measured her breathing, and tried to mentally take herself out of the hospital all together. She hated hospitals. Who didn't? They reeked of emptiness, heaviness, hopelessness…
It was movement from the other two that brought Bashira back into the moment. The doctor gave a brief bow before taking his leave. Fuyumi had returned his parting gesture but Bashira stood still, leering at him from the corner of her eye. She knew it wasn't fair to be hostile but her feelings were all over the place and she didn't have it in her to play nice with strangers.
Yet then there was Fuyumi, who pivoted towards Bashira once the doctor vacated the room. Fuyumi, who clasped her hands in front of her so innocently and sent Bashira a small but pure smile.
Fuyumi had accepted Bashira as a sister before they'd ever met, without knowing much more about her than her name.
And now here they were: alone together.
Bashira shifted her weight, sliding a single foot forward. She wanted to reach out, to meet Fuyumi half way, but that level of friendliness just wasn't in her nature. How could anyone be so open and trusting? She would usually think people who acted like that had ulterior motives.
Whether or not Fuyumi realized Bashira's struggle, she wasn't at all put off. "How about we leave Shoto to rest for a while," the older girl suggested. "It is really early, and I'm sure U.A. will excuse your absence. We could go grab some breakfast?"
Without any reason to disagree or anything better to offer, Bashira nodded.
"I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude," Fuyumi gushed. She and Bashira were sitting in a pretty unremarkable diner around the corner from the hospital. Fuyumi was, in all likeliness, referring to the fact that she'd been buried in her phone for most of the time since they'd been seated. "I'm just making sure that everyone is up to date."
Bashira didn't respond, busying herself with blowing on her coffee. Normally she wasn't the biggest fan of drinking it black but she hadn't known what else to order and that was the easiest thing. On an empty stomach, though, the bitterness was only making her more nauseous.
Feeling awkward and pressured to fill the silence, Bashira managed to pique, "Your mom?"
Fuyumi finished typing out the message she'd been working on before plopping her phone down. "Yeah, Mom's been the most active in the conversation. I let my other brother know too. He's not quite as worried but is upset about how things ended up so bad when Dad was supposed to be in charge."
Again, Bashira didn't know what to offer. As many suspicions as she had about the Todoroki family, there wasn't much that she knew as actual facts.
Fuyumi's gaze was suddenly, unsettlingly perceptive. "It's ironic that the boys hold the hardest grudges, right?"
Bashira could only shrug, flushing despite herself. Fuyumi was giving her too much credit, or maybe she was teasing? Bashira didn't even know how many siblings Shoto had. How pathetic.
"Shoto's the youngest," Fuyumi explained, almost as if she knew Bashira needed some blanks filled in. "He was pretty isolated when we were kids since Dad was always training him, but he's still the baby. My other two brothers and I tried to look out for him the best that we could."
'What made Shoto so special?' Bashira wondered. If he had two older brothers, why was he singled out? Unless the others were Quirkless, why wouldn't Endeavor have trained them, too? If he'd only cared about power, why not have more sons in the running?
And what about Fuyumi? Was Endeavor really such a jerk that he'd never considered a daughter as his successor?
Was that the kind of man the Hero Endeavor actually was?
Bashira gripped her mug with both hands, ignoring the heat. Maybe she was jumping to too many conclusions. Shoto clearly hated his father, and she trusted Shoto, so it was hard not to think the worst of the situation. Why didn't Fuyumi seem to have as many problems with everything, though?
Before Bashira could wallow too much, a waitress came over with their food order. Fuyumi had only gotten some fruit and western oatmeal so Bashira's okonomiyaki looked especially gluttonous.
The food did, at least, apply occupy them. Bashira had to force herself to eat at a regular pace; with her nerves buzzing the way that they were she wanted to shovel everything down as quickly as possible, then pass out and hopefully die.
"Is your mom coming?" Bashira eventually ventured to ask. The idea had been hovering for a while. In some weird way, Bashira was actually anxious to meet Rei.
"No, I told her not to," Fuyumi said. "Since it's not an emergency I just promised I'd just keep her updated."
Bashira accepted the news, not acknowledging if she was more relieved or disappointed. She perked up when another sudden thought hit her.
"Where is your dad anyway? Weren't he and Shoto on the same mission or whatever?"
Fuyumi, at first, seemed equally surprised by Bashira's observation. After a second she turned a little sheepish, moving her food around with her spoon.
"I'm not really sure to be honest; probably with the police, or with his agency. There must be a lot of official business to go over."
A frown tugged at Bashira's lips. So the guy didn't even care to visit the "Golden Son" he'd failed to protect? Or he already knew that Shoto was okay but couldn't be bothered to reach out to his worried family?
"Being a Pro is a lot responsibility, and I can't imagine how much stress that brings," Fuyumi went on. "Dad's always been distant, and I know his temper gets the best of him sometimes, but I try not to blame him."
Maybe someone else might have been warmed by Fuyumi's reasoning but if anything the explanation only made Bashira more frustrated. Fuyumi was obviously a nice girl but was she really that delusional?
Bashira got the feeling that Fuyumi read through at least some of her plastic expression, yet the older girl didn't expose it outright.
"I'm sure Dad's just really busy, he always is," Fuyumi said, like she was reiterating everything again with new words to make it more believable. "He cares about all of us in his own way. I know that."
Bashira's lips thinned out and she had to catch herself when she started grinding her teeth. Anything she said about the subject of Endeavor would surely be insulting. It was their first meeting, and Shoto was in the hospital next door. It probably wasn't the time to get too personal with Fuyumi about any of that stuff.
The only other thing that Bashira had picked up on while Fuyumi was talking was the way she addressed people: she'd called her father "Dad," her mom was just "Mom," and she'd used "we" and "us" like they were inclusive. It might have only been a habit that Bashira was looking too much into, but if Fuyumi expected that Bashira was going to start referring to the Todoroki's as her own parents and siblings that easily, she was setting herself up for major disappointment.
(The idea of using the word "Dad" when talking about Endeavor honestly made Bashira want to choke.)
The girls finished their meal making small talk about school and the best shopping around Tokyo.
Shoto was awake when they made it back to his room.
Fuyumi took the lead in rushing to him, although she was careful to maintain some space and tone down her concern. Bashira, much like before, lingered on the outskirts against the curtains.
"It's nothing," Shoto assured his sister. His voice always had a bit of a husk to it but it was much more pronounced after his injuries. "I'm fine, don't worry."
Shoto glanced over to his wife, and the two of them maintained a prolonged second of eye contact. It was meaningless and heavy all at once. When Shoto turned away to face Fuyumi again, Bashira almost had to remind herself to breathe.
A nurse came in for a routine check, and the woman somehow sprung up a casual conversation with Fuyumi. It made Bashira feel even smaller that a random person would connect with her sister-in-law so much easier than she had, but she was at least a little glad that Shoto was as stagnant and disinterested as ever, despite the friendly chirping next to him.
At some point Bashira started to wonder if the nurse was lingering on purpose. Did she know who Shoto was? What a leech.
As Bashira's anxiety and annoyance grew, she was saved by the most unlikely of heroes.
The room palpably dimmed when a huge form entered.
"You're still keeping him here? Don't over exaggerate. I'll just donate the money if that's what you want, but Shoto has more work to do."
Endeavor was as tall as a man and a half and probably thrice as wide as the average body-builder. It wasn't Bashira's first time being near him but before, when they were at the courthouse signing for the marriage license, she'd had other things on her mind. And back then, Endeavor had been a Hero to her – someone you weren't supposed to fear.
As Bashira eyed Endeavor in the hospital room, standing only two meters away, she struggled to process through a completely aberrant impression of him.
He hadn't ignited his flames – which had to have been due to a safety policy more than anything – but his mass alone was glaring. His scarlet hair mimicked the fire of his Quirk, though, and the gnarly scar tearing through the left side of his face made it clear, if there any doubt, that he was a well-seasoned warrior.
Still, Bashira could only see a monster. As little as she knew and as presumptuous as she knew she was being, she felt nothing but abhorrence.
Shoto hated the man, and somehow that was enough for Bashira to decide that she did, too.
Bashira's eyes darted to Shoto, trying to gauge his reaction. It was useless, since Shoto was nearly always composed, so she snapped her attention back to the Number One.
"Dad," Fuyumi breathed, taking a step closer. Bashira had the fleeting feeling of wanting to slap her away.
Endeavor mostly ignored his daughter, only granting her a look and slight movement of acknowledgment, before he refocused on the nurse. The nurse had clammed up, her jaw slack and eyes wide, obviously intimidated by the unannounced, very infamous guest.
Bashira wasn't sure what came over her. Her mind was fuzzy and she heard the words before she could even totally realize they were coming out of her own mouth.
"Just be thankful that you could come in here and see your son breathing." The sentence garnered the entire room's attention. Bashira's vision fell out of focus. She stared blindly towards the corner of Shoto's bed, her arms crossed and pressing into her sides – as if she was nonchalant. (As if). "You can flex your status somewhere else. Let the professionals here do their jobs."
The silence was deafening in the aftermath. While some part of Bashira was proud of the sharp burn she'd dished out, a bigger part of her was petrified.
It was a good thing she'd delivered some badass last words, because she was definitely about to die.
Her knuckles were far back and hidden by her arms enough that Bashira felt fine about digging her fingernails into her ribs. The pain was acute but sobering. It would reasonably distract her from whatever was about to come.
When a few beats passed without anything happening, Bashira gathered enough courage to gulp and look up. Endeavour's eyes were on her (along with everyone else's). Shockingly, though, they didn't pierce straight through her like she'd been expecting. Was it that Bashira didn't matter nearly enough to have offended a guy like Endeavor? Or was she just somewhat immune. Endeavor had the same eyes as Shoto's left side. Rather, Shoto's left side was like a copy-and-paste of Endeavor, physically. The colors and shaped were all the same but the person behind them was their own individual.
The silence stretched, and Bashira and Enji didn't do anything more than keep staring.
There was a hint of movement behind Endeavor. "I would prefer to keep him here for more observation," the doctor from earlier said as he edged around the other man, "but since he's not in any kind of critical condition, I'll allow his discharge. Just make sure to take it easy for the next few days to give your airways more time to heal. No training with fire or strenuous activities, okay?"
The doctor looked up from the chart he was holding, directing this first half of his monologue to Endeavor before switching the direction over to Shoto. He must have been used to treating Heroes and anticipating their demands to be so guileless.
While none of the Todoroki's responded verbally, the lack of protests seemed to please the doctor.
"Who's going to be taking you home today, Shoto?"
The question pulsed down to Bashira's toes. It was similar to earlier, when the doctor had called out for "Todoroki" in the waiting room. She and Fuyumi had both stood up then and silently agreed to share the role.
Bashira and Fuyumi looked to each other at almost the same time. Would Shoto want to go home or back to school? Was he going to say anything? Why wasn't Fuyumi saying anything? Why wasn't Endeavor saying anything?
Bashira's eyes darted around the room, looking at every one in turn, trying to grasp at a clue or get a clear answer. No one seemed immediately willing to step forward and take charge.
Fuyumi still looked unsure, so Bashira straightened up.
"I'll take care of him."