Lips twisting up into a cruel grin, Endeavour leaps from the pavement to the building's side, melting footholds into the surface as he continues his chase. It'll all be over soon, not that there had ever been any hope for the criminal when it came to outrunning him. After all, he has the greatest number of arrests, the best track record. There have been hundreds before this one, many far more skilled. Certainly, with better quirks; spring-legs, what a ridiculous power.
He takes the corner hard by ricocheting off the building to the east, dropping back to standard ground level. He can see the fear in the thief's eyes, the realisation that he's going to be caught. Still, he tries uselessly to escape, leaping up and away, towards the fire escape of a nearby residential building.
Then he goes down. Hard.
Endeavour stops, fire still blooming around his feet and steadily melting footprints into the pavement as he stares. Unbelievably, a window had opened up in the thief's path, allowing the fleeing criminal to knock himself out of the thick glass panel. A teenager, no older than his masterpiece of a son, leans out the open window to better peer down at the low-life now unconscious on his fire escape. With a casual nonchalance that looks sensationally out of place on such a lazy looking individual, the boy climbs out and pulls a roll of... a roll of professional-grade capture tape from his pocket and begins leisurely tying the criminal's hands behind his back with a practiced ease.
What. The. Fuck.
No, that one's his capture, lucky window-knock-out or not.
Stomping over, Endeavour stops just below the fire escape, flames flaring that little bit more to capture the brat's attention.
He doesn't even glance his way.
Instead, once he's done ensuring the criminal is tied to the fire-escape with an admittedly impressive capture-tape restraint, the teen clambers back inside without so much as a 'by your leave'.
Grunting at the blatant dismissal, Endeavour reaches for the drop-down ladder, pulling it down with a harsh jerk of his arm. The metal slams into the ground and he clambers up, careful to keep the flames around his wrists and feet tempered to an acceptable level. Melting a fire escape would show poor control.
He plans to bark at the brat, plans to rip into him about what is right and correct of him as a citizen and remind him to not get in the way of a hero's job. But, when he looks into the apartment, it's not just the lazy brat that stares back at him.
There's a phone on the coffee table that's ringing on speaker with the teen standing over it, looking at him in blatant confusion. Dressed in a loose tank-top and with a bowl of popcorn in his lap, Shouto is slouched on the sofa right next to the miscreant and appears just as surprised to see Endeavour as Endeavour is to see him.
Of course, given the events of the previous day, UA had given their students a day off so those that required recovery time could receive professional help (ha). He had expected Shouto to spend that time getting ahead of his classmates.
Instead, he finds his long awaited, rebellious masterpiece in a downtown apartment, dressed with the clear intention of a day's relaxation and watching day-time TV. It's not even a hero related program.
"Shouto!" Endeavour thunders when he finally connects the sight of his son where he shouldn't be to the thought of where he should be.
Shouto stares back at him, shoves his hand into the bowl of snacks, and then purposefully deposits the handful into his mouth, chewing slowly.
That's the point where the phonecall connects and a half-familiar voice fills the room.
"Hatake. Dare I even ask."
"Yo, Tanema-kun! I've got a guy unconscious on my fire escape and I'm pretty sure fleeing a hero qualifies this guy as a criminal, so-"
"I swear- you brat! I can't wait 'till the day they give you your sodding provisional, I'm sick of collecting all your 'citizen arrests'- I'll be there in five. Have a pen ready for the usual forms." The call cuts after that. Evidentially a police officer, one long familiar with this 'Hatake'. A Hatake who must be on the UA Hero is course, given the mention of a provisional and Shouto's presence.
Disgruntled at the sudden theft of his arrest, Endeavour folds his arms, eyeing the slip of a brat that stands in the apartment. He's got good muscle tone, though he's shorter than Shouto. A mask covers the lower half of his face, a scar bisects his closed left eye and a mass of spiky silver hair falls messily to the left of his head.
"Maa, who's this, Todoroki-kun?"
Who- Who's this?! Who does this brat think he is?!
Shouto continues to chew his mouthful of non-nutritious junk food, staring him right in the eye, before he turns to look at this 'Hatake'.
"That's my old man, the Number Two Hero."
What kind of rock is Hatake living under to be in the Heroics course and yet be completely ignorant as to who Endeavour is?
The teen stares at him with his half-hooded, grey eye, head tilting to a side.
"Ah. I thought top heroes were supposed to be quick at catching criminals." He rubs at the back of his neck in a blatant show of disrespect and it takes everything Endeavour has to not step through into the apartment and wrangle the brat into seeing just why he's a 'top hero'. What an annoying little shit.
"Shouto. Who is this."
"Hatake's in my class. Hatake, meet Endeavour." Not one syllable of that sentence had a pinch of respect in it. After that utterly lacking introduction, Shouto's already turned his eyes back to the TV screen and the couple arguing before a live studio audience.
"And why," Endeavour continues, feeling himself seethe as he forces the words out from between his clenched teeth, "are you here." Instead of at home, training, as he is supposed to be doing.
"I've decided Todoroki-kun needs a friend," pipes up Hatake, running a hand through his wild hair as he gathers up a handful of popcorn for himself. Endeavour must blink; one moment the little snot's got a handful of food, the next he's chewing with empty palms brushing down his relaxed fit pants. The mask hasn't moved an inch.
What?
"So, I'm teaching him how to be a friend; like how friendship includes watching trash television together and certainly not waking those friends at four in the morning for a six-mile race with a game of rock-paper-scissors every fiftieth step."
As much as Endeavour would dearly, dearly like to respond to that by declaring this little shit unworthy of 'friendship' (ha!) with Shouto and dragging his masterpiece back home to train, he's beaten to the punch by the arrival of a police officer unlocking the front door with his own key.
"So help me, Hatake, I am retiring before you go Pro."
.
.
Waking up mid-kidnapping was not how Shouto had expected to begin his day, but that's how it'd gone down. Given how bony Hatake's shoulder is, it's a miracle the other hand managed to carry him right to the entrance to his apartment building before Shouto had woken up. When he'd questioned the state of affairs, Hatake had cheerfully admitted that they would be partaking in some 'friend-bonding' activities on their day off. Which apparently meant watching trash television that he's sure Natsuo would love and 'throwing shade' about the situations. Not that Shouto's particularly sure what 'throwing shade' means, but he's sure he'll pick it up from Hatake as the day progresses.
Endeavour showing up has put a bit of a dampener on things, though the way he can't seem to get a word in edgeways is amusing.
Leaning back into the comfortable cushions on the couch (he can see why everyone has these in their homes, when he gets his own apartment, that'll be the first thing he buys, after a bed), Shouto watches his old man steam outside the window. Fire licks at the corners of his shoulders and he looks like he dearly wishes to clamber inside and make it clear to Hatake what respect means. Only, Shouto's rather certain Hatake knows what it means to show respect. He just has no reason nor cause to respect Endeavour. It's a beautiful thing to see.
"Maa, Endearment? Why were you chasing this guy?" Hatake's got one form held up before his face, peering at the words on it and Shouto leans towards his friend (he… he has a friend now, even if it appears more like Hatake has plucked him up and made the decision for it) to get a better look at the paper. He doesn't outwardly show his amusement that Hatake has, undoubtedly purposefully, mistakenly called Endeavour by the wrong name. But it does warm his stomach that little bit.
"It's Endeavour," his father growls, flames flaring that little bit more in an intimidation tactic that Shouto knows won't work on Hatake in the slightest. Given how he'd seen the other perform yesterday against that hulking villain he'd warped away (what is Hatake's quirk? Lightning hand and warping doesn't have a clear connection), Shouto isn't too surprised by it. "There's no need for you to fill out these forms. I was in pursuit-"
"Endeavour-san? If I may, it's probably in your best interests to just leave this be. I've already called it in at the station and Hatake's got something of a reputation to the point we've got a system for dealing with his 'citizen arrests'. It'll be quicker for all of us if we just finish this up."
His father exhales and a stream of fire comes out with the breath. A small one, true, but a stream all the same. Though Shouto knows he's in for the training session from hell when the man gets home tonight, it might actually be worth it to have the privilege of watching this.
His father quickly snaps off exactly what the criminal had been doing and Shouto watches as Hatake scribbles it all down so that, when the paper is tilted to the left and held at a thirty-degree angle, it may actually pass as someone's handwriting. Horrendous handwriting that'd make Fuyumi weep, but handwriting all the same. Shouto's rather glad he's not asked to make a statement; right now, his father seems to be under the impression it was pure luck that Hatake opened the window into the criminal. He rather suspects Endeavour would be quite upset to learn they both stood watching the chase from the other window in the room (Hatake's got a corner apartment and he's very happy he can see out in two directions, or so he says), before Hatake had declared he had could take the criminal down with a tenth of the energy required. And, well, he hadn't been wrong.
Getting him to knock himself out on how own against a window had been rather anticlimactic though.
Regardless, Shouto knows not to get too close to building when in pursuit now unless it's unavoidable. If this same thing happens to him, he's rather certain Hatake would laugh.
Huh. He can almost see what the other would find funny about it too.
.
.
He has no idea why the hero is still here.
Tilting his head to a side so that his mane of hair flops over the left eye, Kakashi watches as Endeavour continues to glare holes into his head, as he has done so since Tanema-san left thirty seconds ago. He's waiting for something but, for the life of him, Kakashi cannot even begin to guess what.
(Though with the way Todoroki acts, the way his old man acts, it's painting a frighteningly clear picture in his mind)
"Well, if that's all, it was a pleasure to help out, Endemic-san. We'll let you get back to your patrol now." Grinning, Kakashi makes for the window, ready to slam it closed and continue training Todoroki on exactly how a friend show act (nipping this concept of 'rivalry' in the bud. He's gonna get cracking on the explosive one next who had spent the journey back from USJ seething). But the hero catches the frame in one large hand, scowl still on his lips and the flaming facial hair just looks weird. If he wants to disguise how his face looks, he should just invest in a mask. Far more reasonable and less attention grabbing.
"Shouto. Go home. You have training to complete." Well, this is a first. It's been a long, long time since Kakashi has been flat out ignored to his face. Scratching at the back of his neck, he eyes up Endeavour again, lips thinning. He had really hoping it wouldn't come to this, but this is a lovely piece of evidence and Kakashi has only ever really needed one to act.
"Nope~" he cuts in with a chime, shifting to the left to block Endeavour's view of Shouto (he's Shouto now, can't call him Todoroki when he shares that name with this asshole. "I've decided. I'm adopting Shouto-kun. He's my child and I'll train him from now on. Good day." Quick as a flash (as The Flash), Kakashi dislodges Endeavour's fingers from the window frame, slams it closed, and then drops the blinds. The thin gaps between the blinds lights up orange as the hero's flames flare but Kakashi's beyond caring. He's far more emotionally stable than the last time he got thrown in with a lot of kids that were treated badly and needed a semi-paternal figure. Shouto doesn't need a paternal figure but hey, he's got an older brother now. A sempai, whatever he wants.
The kid's still staring at him, his mismatched eyes (naw, they match!) wide and lips parted ever so slightly.
"If you do wanna do some training, there's a gym on the ground floor we can go to and I can drill you in hand to hand. No offense, Shouto-kun, but if Heroics class was your best, you kinda suck at that." He's still getting stared at.
Eh, he'll give him a minute to wrap his head around what happened, then he is dragging Shouto down to the gym. Because Kakashi's not lying, the kid's hand to hand does suck. But so does a lot of people's compared to him. Hell, Hawks' had only got so good because he's had the Kakashi-special too.