Warnings: Accurate to last chapter, apologies for the utter delay with this.
Chapter Two - Food and Family
Shoto wakes to sunlight creeping through the blinds, to the feeling of pain and the sounds of his oldest sister sniffling in her sleep.
It is hard to tell at first because he can only see out of one eye. It doesn't hurt as bad as it could have but he thinks it would have if it had been a few moments later. If nee-san hadn't helped.
Dimly, he hopes his brothers are okay.
They'd probably escaped by now. They usually go through their windows and would come home a few days later. Shoto never remembers what the lie is. Father doesn't even care since they aren't special.
Will he be like that now, since he can't produce a snowflake or an ember? Since he's Quirkless?
He hopes so. He hopes with every thought that he and his everything will just go ignored and he can go to school and be a good boy, an office worker or an astronaut, or even a hero's assistant if he's lucky.
Something out of the way, where his father won't have to look at him anymore.
… where is he anyway?
This makes Shoto sit up. Where's mom? Where is everyone? Why is he only with Fuyumi-nee-chan?
His breath catches and for the second time in twelve hours he cries.
(He is still too young to understand that not crying is a terrible thing. So he does it innocently and with the feelings he needs.)
It wakes his sister and Fuyumi rushes to him, drawing him close into her arms and something sticks in his throat like bad taffy.
"Where are they?" He begs. "Can we go home?"
He's still young and therefore he knows what makes parents important is that they are the ones who handle these sterile health things that they shelter and feed and nurture or that they should. So where are theirs? Where is everyone?
"I dunno," she says. And that's the truth. Fuyumi doesn't lie to him. She has one like, he knows, because he heard her whispering to him one day when he was supposed to be sleeping. Saying sorry for something and that it's important for a little while longer but for what he doesn't know. "I think… All Might said they'll be held back until everyone gets talked to and people check your eyes. How is your eye?" The last sentence is well-practiced, like every time one of them gets hurt for one reason or another.
"Hurts," he says. She nods and keeps her hands around his thin chest. She trembles around him.
"Nee-chan?" He says, touching the bandages on her arms.
She lets out a sob. And Shoto hugs her as hard as he can.
She's in pieces, he thinks. I can be her glue.
(It's not true but kids have overactive imaginations.)
A nurse comes into the room and finds them like this. She doesn't laugh. Shoto is happy that she doesn't laugh.
Instead, she gives them both a checkup with her fingers. Careful touches that note every flinch and count every single time Fuyumi-nee-chan twitches (fifty-seven) and eventually replace the puffy thing over his burn. She washes his face with a cotton ball and some green stuff again and it smells weird. But it feels cool against where it hurts so Shoto stays still even when it tickles.
The old stuff looks awful, crusty and red.
Nee-chan's arms, chest, everything, look just as bad.
He swallows. It was for him.
It was because of Father.
His hands ache as he curls them into fists but he still does it. It helps a little.
He loosens them after because it hurts and lets his body be carried and held because he wants to walk but Shoto doesn't think he can.
Guilt chews on him, deep in thought.
Shoto says nothing, burying his face in his sister's shoulder. She shudders against him but squeezes with affection.
The doctor arrives and leads them to a cafeteria. He can't see, but he can still smell and it smells like grease and plants, barely overpowering the cleaning supply scent in the halls.
"Shoto! Fu-nee!"
Shoto turns his head. Their brothers sit at a table surrounded by the most western breakfast that he had ever seen. Like the table seemed to be groaning under the weight of the food.
… it smelled sweet.
"Good morning!" The sparkle of light from behind the counter turns into a full force wave of light as All Might flips a pancake. "Have no fear, for I am here, making breakfast while we await calls!"
… it has to be early, otherwise, the room would be full of All Might's fans and admirers, like on TV. And it also would then make sense for the greatest hero to be wearing an apron and have him not be dreaming.
"Good morning," he mumbles.
Hirose looks at him over a pile of pancakes, stretched, ashy cheeks for once free of his usual high collar and sickness mask. (There is another word but Shoto can't remember it.) "You look like crap," he says, beginning to cut another pile. "Can you chew?"
Anger runs hot under his collar and he sniffles. "Yeah. Course I can."
"The doctor say so?" Hirose's white hair sticks up at odd ends worse than usual today like it had been slammed down by a giant. "Cause you don't have to chew much if you don't wanna." His eyes are blue and fearless and peerless. Hirose is two years apart from Fuyumi, two years and a personality apart. They are like a pair, Shoto knows. He understands something the others can't and he's good at making her smile.
Shoto watches him do it right now. "Think so," he says, letting himself be put to the ground.
"Good," grunts Riki through a piece of bacon. Four years older than him and like none of them, a ball of warmth and joy who makes something somewhere in between. It's why his face looks okay, Shoto thinks. "Because All Might can cook!"
"All in a day's work, my boy!"
All Might somehow bows without losing his chef's hat as he appears in front of them. "Now eat before it's too cold."
Shoto heaves himself into a seat and does so. Fuyumi only watches, small and uncertain.
All Might is still all smiles and hands her a plate of fruit and cottage cheese and a bagel sandwich. "Your ribs and stomach did get a glance," he says and Shoto flushes hard. "Be cautious before joining in."
Something in Fuyumi seems to melt before she sits beside them.
Riki and Hirose, all together, wrap an arm around each of her shoulders. Shoto is squished in the middle.
It's hard to eat like this, but the position is so warm that he doesn't mind a bit.
"Where's mama?" He asks after they're all put in his hospital room. People had been starting to arrive, which causes All Might to vanish like a ghost and all of them to retreat like a mass of ice and fire.
And him, the black hole who can do absolutely nothing.
Shoto shivers with the weight of the thought and clings to Hirose and Fuyumi's hands despite them not being big enough. Sometimes they had let him fly a little as they went to safety.
"Dunno," Riki says with one eye on the door. "Fu-nee, did they tell you anything?"
She's laying on his bed now, the nurse had insisted. Shoto sits by her bandaged feet and rubs her legs because he's past that point of fear and now is just getting bored. Things don't hurt anymore.
Fuyumi shakes her head. "Nothing… sorry…"
"It's their fault," Hirose says and his voice sounds just like their dad's for a second. "Not yours. It's just 'cause dad keeps being an idiot. Mom keeps letting him."
"Not Mama's fault," Shoto says, anger at his throat. He can only see his brother because he's turned right. "It's not!"
Hirose only raises an eyebrow and shakes his head. He opens his mouth to say something but then stops. Shoto simmers a moment but a soft, cool touch at his arm makes him stop.
"Doesn't matter whose fault it is," Riki says without even looking at them. "'s just not Fu-nee's. Right?"
"Yeah," Hirose says with a yawn. "We'll find out when the police decide to come back in. They just drove us here after breaking our door. Said the folks needed to have a talk. You told 'em a lot, Shoto."
Shoto furrows his eyebrows, mismatched as he was. "I did?" He can't even remember getting here very well.
"You were apparently loopy but Fu-nee matched enough of it that they could count it."
"They're both in trouble," Riki adds from the door. "Dad's rep has always been sketchy. But mom was always behind him. So she was fine until now. But…" he scratches his head. "Well, it's nothing you need to worry about Shoto."
Shoto bristles. He's not a baby. If Mama's in trouble he wants to know. Cause it's not her fault! It's not! Their dad is just… he's just...
Fuyumi shifts a little and he looks down. She's sleeping now, and something in him uncurls and yawns.
Shoto looks back at his brothers. They wear the same smile, full of prankster plots and pride.
"Hiro-nii," he begins. "Why are you mad at mama?"
Riki makes a sound like a scolding tisk.
Hirose twiddles his thumbs and toys with fire at his nails. "Cause she only cares about you kiddo. She had us too."
Shoto frowns. "It's my fault?" Cause that doesn't seem right at all. Mama is always full of love and softness and things that make mothers good.
Hirose clicks his tongue. "Nope, it's like Riki said. It's not about fault. It's just her trying her best like dad is. Their best just sometimes," he spreads his scarred fingers. "Hurts."
Shoto worries his lip. "Okay…"
He doesn't understand. They are upset with Mama but not Father. When it's all his fault. When he's hurting Mama. He doesn't understand.
"Dad wants a way to surpass All Might," Hirose says, playing with blue sparks. "Mom wants to be free sometimes… and the only way is Dad's dream. You see?"
Shoto doesn't see. Not really. But he can kind of imagine now: a future of quiet smiles and private hugs. Of being slowly but surely moved from her lap. Of being brushed off by father's flames.
But that will never happen. Mama loves him.
So she must love them too.
But she still... lets this happen.
Why?