Chapter 2
The room looked as it always had.
Big, intimidating, professional… and always giving Shouto a stomachache.
It was another day that his father had come home with a soured expression on his face and his arms flexed by his sides. But that evening, he was more frustrated than usual.
And so, Shouto ended up training all night.
Rather, his father's version of 'training.'
"You will never become anything at this rate. Do you really want to be just like your failure of a brother?!"
Shouto stumbled back and fell to one knee, his arms coming up to shield his eyes.
"Dad… please, stop. I'm trying!" Shouto said, wiping the blood from his lip.
"Trying isn't enough. Do better," his father threatened.
"But—ack!"
His father lifted a leg to kick Shouto in the stomach, sending him falling to the floor and rolling over on his side. His hands clutched his stomach. He could already feel the bruise forming on his burning skin underneath his clothes.
He was done. He couldn't do this anymore.
After a moment of shivering on the floor, he could hear footsteps stomping towards him, and then his father loomed over him with a sinister expression.
"Get up," his voice commanded, and it was the first warning. Shouto knew this, but his body ached too much.
"I… I can't," Shouto insisted. Really. The pain was agonizing.
"You're just not focusing enough! How can you fight off criminals if you can't even defend yourself?" his father loomed, nudging him with his foot.
Shouto felt a sudden spark of rebellion, that hatred coming out of him that he had tried to bury down. But it shot out of him like a bolt of lightning, quick and bright, and it was far too late to hold back the thunder.
"But… what if I don't want to become a cop?"
His father's eyes flashed.
"What? What kind of foolishness is this?!" he bellowed, and then reared his foot back.
"No, wait—eugh!" Shouto tried to shield himself, but his father's foot made perfect contact with his side.
"You were born for this role, Shouto! Fight me back!" his father yelled.
"Ow, ouch! No, please, Dad! Please, stop!"
"Stop crying and get up! Fight me like a man!"
"No! No, no, let me go! Mommy! I want Mommy!"
"Mommy!"
"Mommy…"
Shouto awoke with a gasp, his eyes snapping open to stare at the ceiling of his small bedroom. His chest heaved and burned, the residual fear still having a tight grip on his heart. It was dark, and his eyes were wide as he took in his surroundings.
Was he still in his bedroom? Was his father still going to come and get him for more training? Was his mother still sobbing in the hallway?
His eyes traveled down the sides of the bedroom, taking in the blank walls and lack of decorum. There wasn't his petite, book-filled desk, nor the traditional tatami mats on the floor. The room was too small to fit any other furniture other than his bed and nightstand. The only other thing worth noting was the picture on his nightstand next to his phone, the familiar faces of his mother and two of his siblings smiling inside the old frame.
Ah.
So he wasn't eight years old and terrified for his life. He was 28 and well on his way to making the rank of Detective.
He took a deep breath and shuddered as his heart tried to slow down. His trembling hands finally released their grip on the blankets in favor of pressing into his eyes hard enough to see stars.
It had been a few days since his last nightmare, so Shouto supposed the universe thought he was due for one. But why did it have to be on a Monday morning? Especially since he had such an embarrassing day yesterday.
After spitting the last of his vomit up in the trashcan, and once Midoriya had fussed over him loud enough for the entire precinct to hear, Aizawa immediately commanded him to go home for the day.
Later that night, he had seven missed calls from his father.
Shouto sighed and rolled over to press his face into his pillow, barely allowing enough air to filter through. The phone calls were probably the trigger to the nightmare.
Suddenly, as if on cue, his phone rang.
Shouto groaned and reached out blindly to grab it. He briefly thought that perhaps he should change his phone number, assuming it was his father again, but when he forced his face to pop out of the pillows, his heart gave a start when he saw Aizawa's name flashing on the screen. He scrambled to sit up and answer it, his head still aching from yesterday's hangover along with the lack of sleep.
"H-Hello?" Crap, his voice was scratchy. What time was it anyway?
"Todoroki," Aizawa's voice crackled on the phone, but he sounded as if he'd been awake for hours. "We need you to come in right away."
Shouto threw the blankets off of him and hurried over to his closet in the corner. He got his uniform together and balanced the phone on his shoulder.
"What happened?" Shouto asked as he pulled his pants on.
"There's been another victim," Aizawa said.
Shouto froze as his hands still worked on the buttons of his shirt. His mind went blank as he tried to process what Aizawa had just told him.
"W-What?" Shouto stammered.
Aizawa sighed, obviously distraught from the situation. "Just get down here."
"Right. I'm on it," Shouto said.
"Oh, and Todoroki," Aizawa called before Shouto could hang up the phone. "Be prepared for your arrival today. We've got units from other precincts coming."
Shouto fiddled with the cuffs of his shirt. "Other precincts?"
"Yeah. The southern precincts," Aizawa said.
Shouto's back stiffened. He swallowed and took a deep breath.
"All right."
It was still dark when Shouto left his apartment, the sun not even close to touching the horizon. He knew his hair was a mess and he had bags under his eyes, but he didn't have time to gussy up or make coffee. He hoped and prayed there was coffee at the precinct. He needed something in order to wake himself up.
As he walked inside the precinct, he immediately felt awake as the tension seeped into his skin.
The hallway was empty, save for the few guards that stood in the hall to keep watch. There was a commotion at the end of the hall in the briefing room, and Shouto hurried to get inside.
The room was filled with officers gathered together in groups, all talking in hushed tones with furrowed brows. Shouto's gut tightened at the familiar faces in the room. Several of the officers were from a certain station that contained the illustrious office of the Chief of Police for the whole city of Tokyo.
Just breathe, Shouto told himself. There wasn't any sign of him, yet.
Shouto did as he told himself, breathing in through his nose and closing the door behind him as he headed into the room. He carefully avoided people's stares as he walked by, and he tried harder to ignore their whispers.
Aizawa was in the front of the room sitting on a table next to a whiteboard, his eyes looking down at his phone. Shouto started towards him, wanting to figure out a few things before they got started.
Before he could get to the front, Shouto heard a voice talking lightly in the corner of the room. He turned his head and saw a familiar head of dark green hair and green eyes standing next to a girl with brown hair and a man with glasses. They all seemed to be chatting amicably, the girl touching Midoriya's shoulder with a smile on her face.
Shouto felt irked for some reason. He wondered if he was annoyed simply by his presence or the fact that he was all smiles when the situation was probably messed up.
Midoriya's gaze suddenly met Shouto's, and the other boy lifted up a hand and called out a soft, "Todoroki!" He gestured for Shouto to come join them, that same smile on his face.
Shouto frowned harshly at him, feeling something in his chest burning. He turned his head away and headed towards the front, his stomach in knots. He had bigger fish to fry than to be buddy-buddy with his new partner.
As Shouto approached Aizawa, he looked up from his phone and slumped his shoulders, almost out of relief.
"Todoroki. Good, you're here," he said. He glanced back down at his phone and swiped lazily. "We'll start in a few minutes. We're still waiting for some others to show up."
Shouto tried to hold back a grimace, but he couldn't manage to hide it. His eyes darted around, gazing at the annoyingly familiar faces from the southern precincts before he gazed back at Aizawa and swallowed.
"Is… he here?" Shouto asked, his voice small.
Aizawa's hand stopped, his eyes moving up to look at him. He paused to take in Shouto's appearance, which he was sure looked pathetic.
"And by 'he,' I'm assuming you mean your father?" Aizawa asked. When Shouto nodded, Aizawa blinked at him and then glanced back down at his phone. "Well, it just so happens that the Chief of Police is needed for the press conference at his station right now. So I'll be taking point here."
Shouto could almost feel the stress bleed out of him, his entire body decompressing and relaxing into a slump. He nodded once in response.
"Thank you," Shouto said.
"Are you finally going to tell me what the deal is you have with him?"
Aizawa's question made Shouto's blood run cold. He glanced over to his superior, trying his hardest to keep his exterior calm even though his insides were boiling. His thumb rubbed against his forefinger in a nervous tic.
"It's… nothing. We just don't get along," Shouto said, averting his eyes.
Aizawa looked far from convinced. "Hm. Well, if you insist."
The door to the briefing room opened and a few more officers walked in. Aizawa hummed and pushed himself off of the table.
"All right. It's showtime," Aizawa said dryly. Shouto nodded and turned to leave, but Aizawa grabbed him by the shoulder. "This conversation is far from over."
There was a chill in his voice that Shouto couldn't quite place. He didn't give Aizawa a response. Instead, he just walked to the back of the room and leaned against the wall, keeping his hands in his pockets.
This would be fine. He could just listen to the briefing and get right to work on the case without any distraction.
"Ah, Todoroki."
For the love of—
Shouto turned his head to see his green-eyed partner suddenly standing next to him. His two other friends that he had been talking to earlier were standing close by, but not too close, as if wary of Shouto's presence.
"Are you feeling better?" Midoriya asked, looking concerned in that irritating way.
Shouto nodded once, trying to focus on Aizawa's face as he began to speak. Midoriya sighed in relief and smiled softly.
"That's good. I was worried that you might've overworked yourself," Midoriya said.
Shouto's lip pulled to the side. "Yeah."
Midoriya's smile vanished from his face in an instant, as if Shouto's words had dumped a bucket of water overtop of him. He turned towards the front and fidgeted in place, and Shouto stood stiffly next to him.
"All right. Normally, for this case, the Chief of Police would be here to brief you all on the situation. But since he can't be here, you all will have to just deal with me. So I'll just cut right to the chase," Aizawa said.
He flipped the whiteboard over, displaying the horrifying pictures of a burnt and charred body tied to a melted, metal chair. There were gasps and hands covering mouths at the sight of it, every officer in the room stunned. Shouto even straightened his back, no longer leaning against the wall. This was a serious matter.
"This is Officer Nagata. He was found just a few hours ago in an abandoned warehouse near the coast," Aizawa explained.
More whispers, frustrated groans, and clenched fists all spread throughout the briefing room. Even Shouto was a little frustrated. Nagata was one of the few officers who didn't hate his guts.
"His cause of death was just like the other officers that have been left for us to find. Covered in gasoline and burned alive," Aizawa said.
"How awful," Midoriya's brown-haired pretty friend whispered, her hands covering her mouth.
Shouto glanced down at Midoriya to see him clenching his hands into fists by his sides, anger clear in his eyes. It was surprising to see such an expression on the man—he pegged Midoriya to be a softie.
"And, just as always, there were no discernible fingerprints or DNA samples in the area," Aizawa said. "And to make matters worse, we've got no suspects, either."
Shouto frowned. How could the criminal leave behind no trace? It was as if they were a ghost.
He shivered at the thought. He really shouldn't be thinking that way.
"This case is highly sensitive, and not to mention very dangerous since you all are prime targets," Aizawa said. "We're doing things differently now. No one goes anywhere alone. Your partners are to be by your side at all times."
Shouto's brow twitched. What the hell?
"Um, by at all times, do you mean even when we go home?" Kirishima asked, raising his hand at the same time.
"It will be difficult to coordinate, but yes," Aizawa said. "I want everyone walking each other home. Take turns walking the other to their home. I know it seems overbearing, but I'm doing this for your protection." He paused, eyes glinting with something cold and serious. "I will not lose another officer. Do I make myself clear?"
The muffled talking stopped instantly, and there were no signs of protest from any officer. Not even Bakugou, who stood there with his arms folded across his chest, looking somewhat petulant, seemed to disagree with Aizawa's new policy.
Shouto, on the other hand, felt an annoying prick in his heart.
"For now, I want all of you to work towards finding a lead so we can put this dangerous criminal away," Aizawa said. "Some of you already have the files on hand. If not, have you and your partner come and get one up here. For those of you who have them, you are dismissed."
With those final parting words, the room dispersed into different directions, and Shouto took that as his cue to head out. He pushed himself up from the wall and headed towards his desk to grab his folder. He thought he was alone, but he could hear the pitter-patter of footsteps behind him.
"Ah, Todoroki, wait up!" Midoriya called.
Shouto regarded him with a mellow stare as he picked up the case file. He noticed Midoriya already had his copy under his arm.
"I was thinking that maybe we could go over some of my notes together?" Midoriya asked. "Some of my friends from my old station were going to the local diner, and I was thinking that more brainpower would help? And we could get some coffee since it's so early and—"
"Fine," Shouto interrupted. His headache was back. "Let's just go."
Midoriya startled, his voice cutting off, and then he smiled, following behind Todoroki.
"Great! I can show you the way!"
They ended up sitting in a booth at the diner with the two other officers that were hanging around Midoriya at the station. Shouto learned that their names were Iida and Uraraka, and while they weren't too annoying, he still felt put off that he had to interact with them.
Shouto sat next to Midoriya on one side of the booth, softly sipping his tea while listening carefully to the other three chat about the case in hushed tones.
"So this guy always kills his victims in the same manner, huh?" Uraraka asked.
"It appears so," Iida added, hands moving in a chopping motion. "This man seems highly skilled in cleaning up after a kill."
"How do you know it's a man?" Uraraka asked.
"Ah. You have a point."
"Well, did you guys notice that there's a pattern to the deaths?" Midoriya asked, spreading open the documents. He pointed to the list of dates of each death. "The first two deaths were 4 weeks apart. The next death was 3 weeks after that, and then 2, and then 1. And then after that, it cycles back around in the same pattern."
Uraraka and Iida leaned over the table, both of their eyes squinting at the list. Uraraka glanced up at him with a curious look on her face.
"Are you sure this means something, Deku?" she asked.
Deku? Shouto wondered. Wasn't that what Bakugou called him?
Midoriya shrugged. "Maybe. It just seems odd that they would choose to kill on certain dates." He grabbed his steaming mug of coffee, to which Shouto noticed he added three sugars. "Serial killers normally have a deep-seated motive, right?"
Uraraka picked up her own coffee—black, interestingly enough—and shrugged one shoulder.
"Dunno. I've never been acquainted with anyone who was mentally deranged," she said.
Shouto's eyebrow twitched. He scrambled for his tea and tried to drink it carefully, but he ended up burning his tongue.
Mentally deranged? Was that really what a serial killer was?
Then… about his mother…
"That's a bit… harsh, isn't it?" Midoriya asked.
"For a killer? Hardly," Iida commented.
"I guess so," Midoriya said softly, stirring his coffee. He glanced up at Shouto. "What do you think, Todoroki?"
Shouto blinked, surprised that he was being addressed. He set his tea down and gazed over the files and lists of dates. His mind was lost as soon as Uraraka brought up the mentally unstable.
"There isn't much to add," Shouto said. "This guy is just smart and knows what he's doing."
The table fell silent for the first time that early morning, the three friends exchanging awkward looks with one another. Shouto's stomach twisted and he reached back for his tea in a desperate attempt for normalcy. If only he didn't have to have a partner. If only he could work alone like he had wanted to. Then maybe, just maybe, things would be better.
"We're Live now with the Chief of Police for the city of Tokyo, Todoroki Enji."
Shouto nearly spat out his tea.
He whipped his head up to see the TV in the upper corner of the diner, and a familiar face was on the screen.
"Oh, look! It's the chief!" Uraraka said, pointing up to the TV. "He's so tall, wow."
"It is quite the dignified position," Iida said. "He must've worked very hard to get there."
Shouto frowned. Well, Iida wasn't wrong. His father did work hard to get into his position, but his attitude about it all was far from noble.
His father began to speak in front of the people, giving his usual haughty spiel before devolving into the details fit for the press. Once he was finished, a few members of the audience immediately raised their hands to ask questions, and his father's face twitched slightly in disgust. He always hated this part of the job.
It's why his former partner was so much better than him as a police officer.
"Todoroki Enji…"
Shouto jumped, having been yanked from his mind, and glanced over to Midoriya, who was staring at the screen with a confused look on his face. He had a hand to his chin, thinking long and hard.
Oh, please, don't… Shouto thought. Don't make the connection, don't make the connection, don't make—
"Uwah!" Midoriya's face suddenly lit up and he snapped his head back to look at Shouto. He pointed at him. "Todoroki Enji, the Chief of Police, is your father?!"
"Get up, Shouto."
Shouto reeled back, feeling sweat forming on his neck. "Well, I—"
"Oh, so that's why you look so familiar!" Uraraka said. "I've seen you in his interviews before!"
"Ah, yes! That's right!" Iida said, a smile also on his face.
"Why aren't you trying harder? Do you want to be a failure like the rest of your siblings?"
"Wow, Todoroki. It must be so cool to have your father as the Chief of Police!" Uraraka cooed.
"You must learn a lot from his experiences as an officer," Iida said.
"If you don't work harder then you will never succeed!"
"You have to learn everything and train the way police officers do!"
"You must become like me if you want to be Chief of Police one day!"
Shouto fidgeted. His uniform was stifling.
"I guess," he said stiffly.
Uraraka and Iida continued to chat at him about it, but Shouto could hardly hear a word. It was all muffled, his father's booming voice echoing clearly in his mind. It was getting harder to breathe, the soft noises of the diner becoming louder and louder and more unbearable by the minute.
"Todoroki?"
A gentle hand touched Shouto's shoulder, and he turned his head to see Midoriya looking at him with furrowed brows.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
Shouto bit his lip and averted his eyes. He couldn't bear to look at that sad expression, so full of pity. He didn't need pity. He didn't need anyone.
"Bathroom," Shouto breathed, standing to his feet. "I'll just… I'll be back."
"Huh? A-Ah, wait, Todoroki!" Midoriya called, reaching out.
Shouto kept his head down as he practically jumped up from the booth...
…And collided with a taller body, their piping hot coffee spilling into his chest.
Shouto hissed in pain, looking down at his coffee-stained uniform, the wet spots still steaming.
The other three at the booth all stood to their feet, looking at Shouto with varying expressions of concern.
"Todoroki!" Midoriya called again, his voice more frantic.
"My goodness, are you okay?" Iida asked.
"Tissue! Tissue!" Uraraka said, scrambling to grab some napkins.
Shouto took a deep breath, stunned out of his own panic attack. "Y-Yeah, I'm—"
"Ah, my apologies. I didn't see you there."
Shouto froze, the voice sounding painfully familiar. His pained expression fell and he turned his face up to the guy who had spilled the coffee all over him.
Intentionally.
"I wasn't expecting to see the son of the Todoroki Enji here," the man said, voice loud and condescending. "I hope you can… forgive my actions."
Shouto grit his teeth, ignoring the stinging pain on his chest from the burn. He straightened his back and glared up at the man.
"Inasa."
