"He refuses to meet unless you're there."

Ayumu sneered. "I'm sure. No. I don't want to see him. I don't want anything to do with him." Her forearms were crossed atop her round belly, now and then the movement of the twins stirring against her.

"There will be numerous heroes there—"

"No," she repeated. "I don't want to be involved."

The fire-bearded number one hero sighed. "Look, Miss Sato, Touya won't meet for negotiations unless you're present. I understand your reservations, but they have hostages we are hoping to get released."

"You do not understand," she spat. "No one understands. You're asking me to face down my rapist, my captor , at his demand. What next? Gonna trade me for some of those captives, too?"

"We wouldn't—" began the president of HPSC, but she drove right over him.

"Of course not. After all, you can't lose access to the kids."

Hawks laid a hand on her shoulder, amber eyes pleading. "Ayumu, please. This is the first time anyone from the PLF has agreed to meet. I'll be there. Eraserhead will be there. No one will let anything happen to you."

"You know it won't be that easy," she said, hands pressing to her belly protectively. "He'll do everything in his power to get me to leave with him, especially when he's already halfway there by getting me at the meeting to begin with. You can't negotiate with terrorists." She was irritated enough she felt like she might go into early labor or something, blood pressure skyrocketing at the idea of Dabi's smug smirk.

The twins were barely thirty weeks gestated.

Ayumu used the arms of her seat to push herself to stand. "I'm going back upstairs."

"Wait." The painfully deep voice was oddly soft when Endeavor called out. He ran a hand through his scarlet hair almost sheepishly. "My-my daughter wants to meet you. Fuyumi. She's offered to make dinner."

"What?"

"My home is safe, and I don't have to be there," he offered. "But my daughter would like to meet the woman carrying—" He cut himself off as if thinking better of it.

"I'll think about it," she said at last.

Things were all moving too fast now. Every day put her one closer to the thirty-six-week-four-day average gestation of twins, and the commission had a doctor swinging by Hawks' place often to check in on her.

Ayumu felt enormous, tired, and sluggish. She was irritated and too easily overheated, and this was her third time meeting Endeavor, making it clear enough she still detested him if the man's behavior was any indication.

What was she going to do when the twins came? With the war still at its height, there was no way she could just get an apartment and settle down. Dabi would hunt her down eventually, and Ayumu had heard enough of the messages he'd left for Hawks to know that would be the last freedom she'd ever taste.

Maybe she could move. Ayumu had never really liked the thought of living in America, but it was hardly the worst place in light of Japan's current state. And there was always Europe.

But it tugged at her heart to think of moving away from the only place she'd ever called home.

"I'm sorry." Arms wrapped around her from behind as Keigo pulled her to his chest in a hug. He'd slowly become more demonstrative the further along she got, and the more he realized she didn't harbor him ill-will. If anything, her feelings toward the young hero were complicated, but no longer resentful despite the pregnancy.

He was part of the reason she was conflicted.

Living here with him while waiting for her children to be born had started feeling domestic, almost natural. He doted on her and had made remarks about setting up the guest room as a nursery. "Or we could find some place a little more child friendly," he'd offered.

According to the tests, he was as much their father as either of the other men, and he was the best candidate of the three. Not that Ayumu needed a partner; her mother had raised her alone, after all.

"It's not your fault."

Scarlet wings curved around the pair as he held her. "Yeah, but you're right. It's wrong to expect you to face him. We're just— stuck." One warm palm smoothed over her stomach. "Truth is, I don't want you near him either."

"Maybe—" She poured, biting her lips. "Maybe after the twins are born, that way they're not at risk, too."

She could nearly hear the frown. "That's late next month at the soonest. I don't know if the commission will go for that."

"Yeah. Anyway. What do you think about what Endeavor said?"

"About Fuyumi?" She nodded. "It's not a bad idea. Fuyumi is sweet. You'll like her. Though hopefully not too much."

Ayumu turned, raising a brow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"She's pretty, is all. And since Todorokis seem to like you, I wouldn't be surprised…"

"Are you jealous?"

He scoffed. "Of course not. She might be, though."

"Well, you don't need to worry so much. She's a bit young for me," she said.

"Ouch. She's the same age as I am."

"Oh." Ayumu pursed her lips, then burst out laughing. "I'm sorry, but you really walked into that one."

"I did not," he argued.

She pulled away to start tea, the hero following to the kitchen to watch her, leaning his shoulder against a wall with wings drawn in tight.

He was good at helping her get out of her head, which was something Ayumu greatly appreciated. Her mother had had that gift, too, though her methods were a bit more gentle and less humorous.

Sayuri would have liked him.

She paused, blinking at the selection of teas, then shook her head and returned to her actions.

It was becoming more difficult to remove her thoughts from her mother and ignore that aching lance of sorrow when she remembered the woman would never meet her grandchildren. Sayuri had accepted Ayumu would never have children and was as accepting of it as she was of everything else about her daughter. Ayumu was an artist, she didn't want children, and she liked sunflowers more than any other. Those were just facts.

Faced with her new reality as she was, she wished she could have her mother to guide her.

"You okay, dove?"

"Hm?" She glanced over and smiled wanly at the concerned man. "Yeah, just getting caught up in thought, I guess."

He nodded. "Have you thought anymore about moving? I'm sure I could find a place with a good studio space, something ventilated for you to safely paint."

She shrugged. "I mean, I've thought about it, but I don't know. An artist's income is neither consistent, nor abundant. Two bedrooms alone will be stretching it."

"Don't worry about that," he said, waving away the thought.

"Keigo…"

"I'm the father. It's part of my responsibility to help. And my income as a pro is more than enough." He ran a hand through his hair. "Honestly, I don't spend it nearly as quickly as I make it. I would be happy to use it taking care of you and the baby birds."

Her cheeks flared. "You earned that."

"And you deserve to not struggle for the rest of your life," he countered. "So do those kids."

She sighed again and poured steaming water into two mugs, tea bags already waiting. "Have you been thinking about this a lot?"

"Maybe. Yeah, I guess. What can I say, I'm a nester." Ayumu rolled her eyes at that. "Four bedrooms, a yard, a big kitchen. I like the idea of high ceilings, maybe two stories with a roof patio, too. I like being up high."

She nodded as she handed the second mug over. "Maybe we can build a special perch just for you."

"Now you're thinking," he said with a grin.

Notes:

I'm writing some kinktober one-shots, to include a sequel to last year's 'It's Okay' featuring two particular favorites with Tori. I also have a loooong one-shot with Sir Nighteye, because I need more of him. I' considering a Christmas one-shot from this story, but... I don't know.

So far I have five. I'd love to make myself write five more.