IV

Teiko gestured for her brother to have a seat. "We're going to be here a while. I'm going to lecture you on what you've made of your life and you're going to listen, or I'll sell your story to every last journalist I can find. I'll give them pictures from our youth, especially the one where you're hanging upside-down from a tree by your ankle."

Enji resisted, as expected. He folded his arms. "I'm fine right where I am, thanks. You don't have anything to tell me. You're the queen of mistakes. You never found anyone who would marry you, so you never had kids of your own. It's easier to parent when you've only done it for a day."

"I'm not their parent and I'm not going to try to be," she said coolly. "From now on, you can only train your kids under two conditions. Firstly, and most importantly they have to ask you. Secondly, Mom's rules." They both knew what that meant. No shots to the head or groin, permanent disfigurations, or home damage. Mom's final rule was, 'if you fight in the house, I'll kill you!' but they generally didn't adhere to that last one.

He glowered with such precision that his lips narrowed to a near invisible line. "And who will train Shoto?" he demanded. "He's not some decoration to put on a shelf. He's a weapon that must be honed and used."

"Or, stay with me here, I've never been a parent before," she tosses his words right back in his face. "Maybe, just maybe, he's a six year old who had his mom carted off. I bet you didn't even give him the chance to say goodbye." Enji snorted, but had the decency to look away. Teiko took his lack of eye contact as confirmation. "I'm following the same rules. They're going to be house rules, from now on. No fights unless both parties consent. From there, Mom's—no…Todoroki Rules. Even for a raving lunatic, our old bat sometimes knew where to draw the line."

Enji wasn't humbled. Though she had won the battle, he was convinced she wouldn't win the war. "Where's dinner?"

"Wow, Enji. Is this how you treated Rei? Was she just a broodmare and chef from the start? Is that all she'll ever be to you?" The fridge opened, but he didn't rustle around. He stood before the dim light, his eyes lost in thought.

"Why do you care?"

"She was my friend first, Enji. I don't care if she went to your elementary school or that we were five years apart. You broke my friend."

"You didn't talk to her for twenty years. Quit acting all high and mighty."

"I didn't have your number. You only gave me your address last week, after sending her away." Now it was her turn to be angry. "When you looked at her, did you ever see a woman you could love? Or was she nothing but a quirk with a womb made just for you?"

Enji broke from his trance. He shuffled the dishes and selected the leftovers that had been set aside for him. "Of course I loved her." His voice was so quiet that Teiko wasn't sure she heard him right. She didn't press, but he continued on his own. "She was so kind and gentle…but she was weak." He nearly slammed his plate into the microwave. "She wanted our children to be weak, too. If she had just stayed out of the way, I never would have had to hurt her." It wasn't much, but there was a definite twinge of regret. He used his finger to stab the numbers into the appliance. "Why'd you sell the farm?" He asked suddenly. "You could have kept it, or at least given me the chance to burn it down."

"You said Rei wasn't going to be better and I didn't trust anyone to operate it to my standards. I'd be half there, half here, and doing both jobs improperly." She was the type to have her full focus on one subject at a time. "So I'm here until the kids are out of the house."

Silence greeted the end of her words. She decided to change the subject. "Do you remember that girl I punched in the face?"

"Yeah?" Enji stared at the dimly lit turntable.

"I showed her I was sorry with a gift. It's not the most genuine or thoughtful way, but I figured it was better than nothing." Teiko stood and walked up the stairs. She had given him more than enough to chew over. To stick around might undo any lessons he'd learned.

Fuyumi listened by the crack of her door for another few minutes with tears in her eyes. She finally heard her father admit that he'd loved their mother. He can change, she told herself as she wiped away the salty droplets.

By midnight, the whole house was tucked away. Toya had his sweet dreams. Natsuo felt fear lift from his shoulders for the first time in his life. Fuyumi saw a beacon of redemption for her beloved father. Little Shoto cuddled his first ever action figure.

Their morning was unusually quiet. Though nobody spoke openly, all knew at least some part of last night. Enji didn't say a word to anyone, nor did any of them try to speak with him. Teiko packed their lunches while the family ate. When she got to Toya's, she slipped his note deftly into his food. The eldest saw and a light smirk touched his face.

"What's that?" Enji asked with quiet anger. Toya opened his mouth, sure he was the one at fault, but it was Shoto their father glared at. The boy winced and guiltily dropped his mismatched eyes.

"Nothing," he muttered.

"Don't you dare lie to me! How did you get that?"

Teiko swooped in to save the day. "I bought it for him. I thought Shoto would like to see a hero in the house."

Savage… Toya thought. While the grin had been wiped from his mouth, it still stood strong in his eyes. It came as no surprise to the teen when his father jerked to his feet. Toya was a fighter, but even he flinched away from his Enji's fury.

"What did you just say to me?!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, should I slow down, jughead? You're. Not. A. Hero. Not in this house. As soon as you walk through the door and the public licks your ass—"

"Don't swear in front of my kids!"

"Really, Enji, that's your takeaway?" Toya had no idea how she could stand beside him and laugh. Though she was tall for a woman, he still towered over her and was worth two of her in bulk. Teiko's sense of ease was almost terrifying, yet oddly satisfying. She walked over to Shoto and put out her hand. "May I?" The boy glowered and hugged the figure to his chest. "Don't worry, I'll keep him safe." Though it was with obvious reluctance, Shoto relinquished his All Might action figure to his aunt's custody. Teiko held the plastic by his waist. "This is All Might. He is a true hero. He doesn't pretend to be indifferent while secretly hoping for higher approval ratings. Whatever his circumstances were, he made himself into the Symbol of Peace. He is an ideal role model."

Enji looked pained as he held back his quirk. All he wanted to do was set off a blast of fire and be done with the number one hero. It was bad enough that he lost time after time to All Might, but now he had to stomach that idiotic grin in his own home. Enji left the table, and walked out the door. He slammed it behind him hard enough to splinter the wood. The children stared in shocked silence. Teiko, who wasn't surprised, gave Shoto his toy. "Don't ever try to talk to him the way I do," she warned, her turquoise eyes moving to all of the children. "Anything will set him off. Eye contact, or the lack of, talking too softly, too loudly, or just being in the wrong place at the wrong time is going to make him want to scream and attack. All you should worry about doing is complying until I show up."

What she described sounds like a hostage situation. Toya went over to the sink and rinsed out his bowl. "Thanks for the note. I'm off to school." Despite himself, he knew he'd warmed up to his aunt. He left only five minutes after his father, but the hero was nowhere in sight. Toya sighed and slipped his messenger bag over his shoulder. He walked along in quiet contemplation. Dread hastened his steps as he considered the repercussions that accompany skipping school. Even with a note, that wouldn't change how much work he'd have to do to catch up. Despite the cloudy thoughts, he couldn't help but walk with a spring in his step.

Once he finished with school, Toya went to a gym to blow off some steam. While pro heroes had plenty of opportunities to use their quirks, the rest of society was suppressed and encouraged to equip theirs in moderation. Rumor had it that the series of Quirk Gyms were operated by a league of villains to find potential, clearly non-heroic recruits. Participants had to be older than fourteen and sign waivers to participate. Strangely enough, there had been no line for a parent or guardian. Toya took full advantage of the oversight and signed up about a month ago.

It had been six months since he and his father had trained together. Six months since Shoto sneezed fire, then accidentally spurted ice when he tried to cover his mouth. What began as a funny moment almost instantly transformed to something far worse. Up until that point, Toya had been his father's sole focus, as his white haired siblings were deemed 'too soft'. Toya hadn't envied Shoto, but had felt selfishly relieved to lose the daily beatings.

There were four levels to the spars. The first was a request for no damage. No cuts or bruises. No fun. The second agreed to moderate bruising, so long as their body maintained functionality. Level three allowed snapped bones and visible marks. As for level four… nobody signed beyond the third. The fourth level were duels that supposedly ended in death matches. Toya slid his card on the level two. While his aunt was a relaxed guardian, he couldn't imagine how she'd respond to his participating in daily brawls.

The system took into count his abilities and past battle records. Nine defeats marked over eight losses. He didn't expect to be the best, as many of the contestants were well into their twenties and beyond, but it was mildly frustrating that he didn't do better. Nobody gave their true names, but an alias.

His was Dabi.

Spoiler one revealed.