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He's... never had this problem before.
Maybe it's because this is the first autumn he's faced without flames wreathing his form. It had been a strange transition, and even months later Enji still feels a little naked without fire to lick at his jaw and up his limbs. The constant presence, the burn, is something he doesn't think he'll ever stop missing.
This new appearance of his makes him more approachable, at least. Enji may not be entirely comfortable with it, but as the new Number One, there are certain standards he now knows he needs to keep and uphold. His demeanor from before won't cut it. The image of who he was... looking back, he could hardly consider himself a real hero at all.
Enji is trying to be better, trying to fight through his regrets and not repeat his mistakes. He's not doing all that good of a job. The public is uncertain, uneasy in the wake of All Might's fall from glory. Enji doesn't even come close to filling the shoes the former Number One left for him, and he feels a sense of shame knowing this.
He reasons to himself that it's better not to have open flames on the scarred, sensitive skin that now mars half his face. The mark is just another sign that he's not strong enough for this, that he's not a good enough hero to uphold society, but he does his best to ignore this too. Though for all that he tries-- well, he's not very good at that either.
The weight is heavier than he ever could've imagined, and Enji looks in the mirror now and all he sees is his own inadequacy staring back. There's a little voice in the back of his head that seems to get louder and louder as the days pass by. It doesn't have anything nice to say.
Enji isn't the best anything. He's not the best hero, and he's not the best father, and he's not the best person. He's trying, but it feels too little, too late. How does anyone come back from what he did? From the man he was?
He knows it's not the time to wane or to be doubting himself. He has a job to do. A role to fulfill. A country to protect. Children to apologize to. One foot in front of the other, until he's done his duty. One foot in front of the other, until it's all over.
Enji vaguely recognizes that what he feels is along the lines of generalized depression. This bogging weight that makes his feet want to drag and his shoulders want to slouch. He patrols the streets and feels strangely detached from his body and from the reality he exists within.
He's Number One, and isn't that what he always wanted? The more time he spends out here, the more he realizes that no. No, what Enji was chasing was a mere idea, an appealing concept to reach for. His priorities have long since shifted, even if it took a near death experience for him to realize they had.
Hopelessness is not an emotion he's familiar with, yet he recognizes it starkly now for what it is. It spears through him like an icy lance, spreading a chill down through to his fingers and toes. He fights villains and he gives speeches, and he tries his best to connect to his kids and reel in the fiery attitude that threatens to escape him.
Though, these days he has to say that anger doesn't come quite so easy anymore. Nothing comes entirely easy anymore. There's a constant pull in his chest. Some days he wakes up and simply lays in bed, staring at the ceiling even as his alarm blares. He looks at the entirety of his life and tries to find the meaning in any of what he's done. Aside from having children, not a single thing he's done has been worthwhile.
Enji doesn't feel good about himself. The public doesn't like him, bordering on outright despising him. He's pretty sure all his children hate him, barring Fuyumi, but even she must resent him at least a little. He was nearly bested in a fight against a nomu, a mere fraction of the evil All Might had faced.
Endeavor is nothing. It's a name that will be lost in time. Anyone who recalls him will look back and remember a cynical, egotistical man. Enji hates to wonder what the point is, but he does. He wonders why he's doing this-- If he deserves to be a hero. If he can really do this, and what will happen if he can't.
He's spiraling somewhat, with no real friends to lean on and no family he feels worthy of trying to connect with. And that's right about the time the first cat shows up.
October has just descended upon Japan, and along with its orange leaves it's brought with it the season's first truly chilly breeze. It feels like nothing against Enji's skin. His body naturally runs hot, even more so when he's patrolling. His fire may not be on display like a trophy anymore, but he's always had something of a magma core.
The cat is a small, orange thing with one eye and a notch in its ear. Enji is in the middle of stiffly addressing the news camera in front of him when he feels the barely-there weight on his leg. His costume is far too thick for the claws to ever dream of fully piercing the material, but they still dig in more than enough for the cat to drag itself up and onto him.
Animals were typically wary of open flames, which was probably why this had never happened before. That fact doesn't keep Enji from stopping mid-sentence to look down stupidly at the purring animal, which had settled itself into the crook of the arm he'd brought up reflexively to catch it. The feline is shameless, cradled like a baby in Enji's hold.
It seems utterly content despite his status as a stranger, puttering like a little boat motor. Enji blinks at it for a moment before he looks up again, knowing he must look slightly stunned as he stands there floundering for words. He's usually better in front of the cameras, but he's been trying to be nicer, and it's been easier said than done for a man who's spent most of his life stoic and snappish.
It's strange. The news reporter had looked strained and notably uncomfortable before, tense and strictly professional as she asked him questions. But as he awkwardly looked up, not dropping the cat for fear of being branded an animal abuser on top of everything else, she looked... happier. She was smiling. At him.
Enji felt rooted in place as her gaze rose from the cat to his face, her eyes light and airy compared to stony look she'd given before. Her expression was open. Straightening enthusiastically, she brought her microphone up a little higher. She looked genuinely delighted, and Enji realized with some amount of confusion that he couldn't actually remember the last time anyone had looked at him in such a way.
"I guess the chill got to the little guy!" She laughed. "Do you like cats, Endeavor?"
Enji never had one growing up and had held no desire to get one at any point in his life. He's hardly ever interacted with them before. In fact, he's pretty sure this is the longest he's been in the mere presence of a cat since... well, ever. Let alone actually holding one.
Enji doesn't tell her that, though.
"Yes." He offers stiffly, absolutely certain he'll be finding orange cat fur on his costume for weeks after this. "I do."
The footage is viral within the hour, plastered across the internet and every major news station. Enji can't help but think that the cat looks comically small in his arms.
He'd tried to drop the thing off at the next street corner, gently setting to down. It had meowed its protest and immediately set to climb up him again. Pulling it off his shoulder and plopping it back down hadn't worked the second time he tried, or the third, or the fourth. Pictures of his attempts to remove it from his person were circulating all over "tweeter", according to Fuyumi.
It takes a villain attack and him sprinting off to leap into the fray to get the cat to back off. Enji isn't sure how he feels about it, or about the fact that it had still tried to follow him even then. He understands that the temperature is dropping, but it seems... ridiculous.
Nobody likes Endeavor-- not really. Animals have never seemed to either. Enji had sort of just assumed that general dislike went past his flames and pertained to his general character.
Still, he can't help but think the minor annoyance was more of a blessing than anything. Because when Enji checks his phone again that same evening, there's no slander towards him to be seen. No criticism of his strength, of his inability to rise out of All Might's lengthy shadow. He scrolls and scrolls, but none of the usual drivel is there.
Instead, it's all articles about him and the cat. Apparently he is an empathetic animal lover, graciously giving warmth to Japan's "local feline friends" as the weather starts to shift. Enji's not sure how long he spends just scrolling, something in his chest settling.
It's not much. In fact, it's a little pathetic just how reassuring he finds the entire thing to be. He can't explain how or why it makes the whispers of doubt in his head start to quiet, but it does. Despite himself, Enji can't help but smile a little.
He's read before that sometimes the slightest touch can cause the biggest wave. Once upon a time he might've felt foolish for taking reprieve in something so small and considerably meaningless. A part of him still did, feeling stupid for the relief that settled over his shoulders.
Largely though, he didn't care. It made him breathe easier. He got out of bed the next morning and he didn't feel like he wanted to lay right back down again. He felt more at home in his own skin, less like the eyes of the public were gouging into him for all the things he couldn't be.
The old him would've scoffed. Would've called it pathetic for him to be seen in such a state, cradling a cat and getting wrapped up in a media storm about it. Maybe the fact that he's not upset now is proof that something in him has progressed. Something is better than nothing, isn't it?
Enji honestly expects that to be the end of it. He thinks that the whole cat incident was something isolated that won't be occurring again. The media would forget in around another day, and things would return to their normal state. The never-ending grind that came with being on top, and all the insurmountable pressure that came with it.
He spends his morning on paperwork and makes it out to patrol after lunch. Enji's been ruminating around the same area for a while now, intent on fighting back the spike of crime that had made itself known there. There's something inherently comforting about the routine of it. This, at least, he doesn't think he can get wrong
Enji goes. He texts his children and receives a cheerful reply from Fuyumi, a middle finger emoji from Natsuo, and a read receipt from Shoto. He signs an autograph for a small child who looks at him like he hung the moon and stars, takes an awkward selfie with a pair of college aged girls who started squealing as soon as they saw him, and pretends he doesn't notice the paparazzi tailing him.
There are less glares. People regard him with openness as he passes them on the street. Crime is quiet and nobody calls him in on anything bigger, and Enji eases back into the stream of how things are and tries not to get too used to the newfound friendliness of the public. Internet trends come and go, this will--
Something brushes against his leg. Blinking, Enji looks down. The same cat from before blinks back at him with its single eye before it gives a fierce meow and begins to claw its way up his leg again. Not knowing what to do, Enji just... sort of lets it.
It's a soft little thing, if not a bit too skinny. It immediately starts to let out a rumbling purr, pressing itself against his body like he was a space heater that existed only for its continued comfort and not a living, breathing person. Enji couldn't help the way his lips curled in amusement, something about the animal making that strange weight ever-present in his chest ease slightly.
Bringing up a hesitant hand, he gently runs it down the cat's back as it clings to him. Rather than whipping around and biting him like he half expects, it instead starts to purr faster. Enji brings up his other hand to support it, painstakingly careful as he does-- he has no idea how fragile cats are, but the thing feels light enough to break at the slightest bump in his opinion.
He looks up just in time to see the flash of a camera going off, the cat curling into his arms again like that's exactly where it belonged. As a cool breeze rattles past him, rolling off his skin like nothing, it occurs to him that this might be more of a "thing" than he thought.
Tweeter is just as confusing as it sounds. It takes him forty five minutes to figure out how to use it. He makes a personal account, because he's pretty sure his PR manager would sooner shiv him before letting him have access to the official one. Not that Enji would have a clue how to post anything to begin with.
He finally manages to break into the app (read: he manages to log in like a normal and sane person after failing the "verify you're not a robot" captcha's several times in a row and having to start over the account making process four times), and he doesn't even have to look anything up. What greets him on the little "house" page is a photo of himself.
In the photo, he's smiling. It's not a very big smile, but it's enough to make him pause and wonder when the last time he saw himself smiling was, to which he morosely concludes that he has absolutely no idea. He aggressively scrolls, searching for slander-- usually, if reports are to be believed, Tweeter doesn't like him very much.
So he scrolls. He types in his name at some point when he finally figures out how to do that, finding that it's quite like googling things, it just looks different. He scrolls some more, wondering if he'll find anything about the accidental property damage he'd caused the day before, but there's... nothing.
The internet really, really likes cats. Like, enough to let go of their hatred of him almost entirely.
Public opinion of him has never been better. If the rumors are to be believed, his PR team popped a bottle of champagne and got noise complaints from other floors of the agency, they were celebrating so loudly and so late into the night. A single cat, and the day is saved.
Enji doesn't understand. He holds a cat twice and suddenly he's worth something? They have never loved him more. Praise for him overflows so much so that he gets overwhelmed and has to set his phone down, unable to fully process that the gushing words being said are about him and not All Might, or literally anyone else.
Ignoring it seemed like the best course of action. He doesn't personally treat his consideration of a single animal as a true judgement of his character, even if everyone else seems keen too. Indulging the cat on two occasions, for very short periods of time, weren't indicative of who he was as a person. Surely they couldn't tell a person that much about who he was.
Enji is content to let the whole thing die.
(...And then the second cat shows up, and it brings a third and a fourth with it.)
One cat was okay. It sort of made sense. Provide an animal a way to combat the elements, it'll naturally come back to utilize that resource. Enji parses it out logically in his head and tries not to feel too happy about it, because at the end of the day it's all about instinct and survival, and not about who he is or how he's changed.
It aches a little to accept that reality, but Enji will not delude himself into thinking he's not as bad as he knows he is. A depressing thought, but one he thinks he likely deserves for all his past transgressions. Is there truly a way to come back from all he did? From all he was? Can he change?
He has no idea. He doesn't think cats have anything to do with it, either.
That doesn't stop them from showing up anyway.
It starts with the first one climbing up his leg and ends with three more trotting out of the woodwork after it to do the exact same thing, so quickly he blinks and practically misses it. Suddenly he's just covered in the things, frozen in place as they drag themselves up his costume and situate themselves in his arms and on his shoulders.
Four cats. Enji doesn't think he's ever been so flabbergasted in his entire life. And because he's standing there like a moron with a stupid look on his face, looking like he's got absolutely no idea what to do with himself, it makes total sense that someone gets a picture of it and it makes the front page news.
(Later, he will come home and find out that Natsuo has had the photo professionally printed, framed, and shipped expeditiously. He probably paid a small fortune to have it done quickly enough for it to get there before he got home. Ironically, it's the most expensive and nice gift he's ever gotten Enji.)
"No." Enji tells the cats, though he sounds more stunned than he does stern. He peers down at the two cats in his arms, who look back with big eyes that sort of remind him of Shoto when he was a baby. It's endearing, but he pretends he doesn't notice. On his shoulders, the other two press into his neck. "This is not becoming a thing."
It becomes a thing.
Anytime he patrols in that area, they're there. It's like they sense his arrival and immediately seek to converge on his exact location. They're like little heat seeking missiles. He steps foot on their block and they just materialize out of every nook and cranny, meowing up a storm and trying their best to take their place in his arms.
The orange one missing an eye is always first in line. Enji can't help but spitefully stare down at it and think that it's the one that started this whole mess to begin with. It's the cat that let all the other cats know he wasn't a threat, and now he's completely stuck.
One on hand, everyone loves it, they love him, and that's... Enji's not sure how to feel about that, really. He feels as though they're liking him for the wrong reasons. But if those are the wrong reasons, what are the right reasons? Are there any? Is there a reason to like him?
He doesn't know. Enji feels like he doesn't know a lot of things these days. All he knows is that he now has a small hoard of cats following him, and no matter the time of day, someone always manages to get a picture of it. Typically when he's standing around looking clueless.
The cats are obviously all strays. There isn't a single collar in sight, and most of them are thinner than he's pretty sure cats are supposed to be. Enji tried to read more about it online, but it's hard to tell when he doesn't have a healthier cat to compare them to-- somehow, the photos he finds don't help.
The four becomes five, which becomes six, which jumps to ten, to twelve, to fifteen, and now he's stopped bothering to count. The only consistent one is the orange cat, which seems to be the one that primarily sounds the alarm and sets all the others on him in the first place. If Enji's walking down the street, a stream of cats can be seen following him.
He's lucky it hasn't gotten in the way of any villain-wrangling. As fast as the cats can appear, they can disappear just as quickly. Enji's not sure if he wishes the flames were enough to scare them off enough or not. You would think they wouldn't want to sit atop a man known to spontaneously ignite, but it seems they'd grown too used to it to care anymore.
The moment his quirk was down, they were back. He'd been mobbed in the middle of talking to the police just the other day, and what could he really do about it? Putting them on the ground didn't do anything. Putting them on the ground with emphasis didn't do anything. Telling them to go away was futile, and he's pretty sure the public would throw him in the deep end of the arctic if he started bringing a water gun to work with him.
This is simply his life now. He guesses it could be worse. Natsuo has stopped responding to all his messages with crude emoji combinations and instead responds with memes of Enji covered in cat fur, and Shoto actually replies at all, period. Fuyumi seems more open as well, even if it's just to gush.
"Endeavor! People are calling you Japan's resident cat whisperer!" A microphone is shoved up in his face. The cat on his right shoulder-- which he had tried sixteen times to put on the ground-- batted at it. The reporter just beamed wider. "Tell me, do you have any plans to sponsor and find homes for any of these strays? People are wondering what you'll do with this newfound gift of yours!"
Enji stares for a beat before it dawns on him that this is the best fucking idea he's ever heard in his entire life. Because if the cats are adopted, they can't follow him. And if they can't follow him--
"Yes." Enji nodded, mind already moving a mile a minute. In the crook of his left arm, the one-eyed orange cat meowed. "Yes-- finding all these... lovely... felines homes is definitely in the cards going forward."
A grey tabby flopped over his head. The reporter laughed and held his hand up to cut.
Enji doesn't expect to get as into it as he does. It's a distraction, at least. He feels lighter when he turns his attention outwards, dragging himself away from the ever-ruminating thoughts about himself and the pillar he needs to live up to, but likely never will.
This is something to do. This is something good, something people want. Enji feels like a halfway decent person as he fills his limited free-time not with drowning in his own self doubts, but instead in information about cats. What they need, and how to get it for them, and such of that like.
The thing is that the cats need to go to good homes. Not just random strangers. Enji has to make sure they end up in safe environments, with people who will genuinely and truly care for them. Their lives need to be better in their new homes than they are out on the streets. Enji has no idea how to get that, he just knows he needs to.
He knows logically he could contact the PR department and they'd handle the entire thing. They'd probably make a whole thing about it, too, organizing interviews, and magazine covers, and official releases and posts. They'd take it out of Enji's hands and they'd twirl it out into an astounding performance, and the cats would probably be fine.
The thing is that Enji doesn't want to hand this over to them. This is something he wants to do. He knows the cats chose him because he's warm in the midst of a world that slowly grows colder and colder as fall deepens, but sometimes it's nice to pretend that they picked him because they needed him. Because they... they knew they could count on him for help.
And no, Enji's decision to handle things has nothing to do with the fact that he feels more relaxed than he ever has in his entire life with those cats climbing all over him, no matter how stressful it is to try not to trip over them sometimes. Not even a little bit.
The cats are nice. They're nicer to him than Enji deserves, even if he wishes there weren't quite so many. Where are they all coming from, even? And why are there so many? Does he want to know?
Enji makes some key points in this handy little application Fuyumi points out to him on his phone, which is aptly named Notes. Food is first, because he can't be adopting out half-starved cats. Shots is second, because he can't adopt out unvaccinated cats either, and perhaps feeding them will allow Enji to domesticate them enough to get them into kennels. Then proper paperwork, and then-- well. Homes, he guesses.
It's the weekend when his plan gets put into motion. He orders enough cat food to feed the cats that follow him and then some. It's an expensive brand, something that little red robot alien website recommended. Ribbit, or something? Red bet? Read it? He has no idea, but they seemed to know what they were talking about.
He's in the process of stacking the boxes of cans by the front door in preparation for departure when he notices that Shoto is at the dining room table watching him, eating cold leftover soba as he so tends to do. Enji pauses, staring and trying to figure out how long he'd been there.
Shoto blinks languidly back, his gaze drifting over to the boxes of cat food. His head tilts, and Enji is once again reminded of some of the felines that liked to make home in his arms. Something about their mannerisms was just similar. It was, dare Enji say it, cute. Even if his son would likely cut all contact with him if he brought such up.
"...Shoto." Enji offered awkwardly, tensely. "I wasn't aware you were home for the weekend."
Shoto slurped another helping of noodles in his mouth loudly. Enji wants to question why he's like this, but realizes that he is the living and breathing answer to that inquiry and decidedly doesn't. His relationship with Shoto seems less strained as of late, but not that much.
(Shoto still hates him, and rightfully so. Enji's just going to have to live with that.)
"I asked Fuyumi not to tell you." Shoto responded bluntly. Ouch. "Are you going to feed the cats?"
Right. Not what he was expecting, but Enji is very adaptable. His therapist says that flexible parenting is at the root of any good father-son relationship. He can do this. This is fine, in fact. Shoto showing interest in what Enji is doing is surely a good sign, isn't it?
"Yes. It is the first step in my plan to ensure they all receive adequate housing. It would be poor form to try and adopt out unhealthy cats." Enji informed him, tone coming out strangely stilted despite his best efforts. Determinedly, he didn't wince at the fact. "It's my hope that feeding them will garner enough trust for them to allow me to kennel and take them to get vaccinations."
It was a high order considering how many cats there were, and the fact that the number only seemed to grow day after day. Enji would have to cross that bridge when he got to it. Right now, making sure the felines didn't starve before he got the chance to actually help them was his main priority.
Shoto's head tilted slightly, more noodles slurping in. Enji tried not to fidget, willing his face not to heat. There was nothing really to be embarrassed about. He had told the public this was what he was going to do and he fully intended to go through with it. Moreover, he actually wanted to do it.
So many cats shouldn't be left on the streets to fend for themselves. They deserved warmth as a constant, not as something they had to hopefully trail after. There was no true life for them out there, just survival in the face of the elements, fight for food, and who knows what else.
"I didn't think you actually cared." Shoto admits, which is... fair. Enji is about to open his mouth to respond, with what he doesn't know, but he doesn't get the chance to before-- "Can I come?
Enji's mouth snaps shut. He stares at his son for a beat, and then another, processing. If Shoto notices the way his adam's apple bobs, he doesn't point it out, nor does he draw attention to the stupefied look on his face.
It's embarrassing how long it takes Enji to realize Shoto just asked to come with him. That yes, he really did hear that, and he wasn't imagining things. The dawning of it makes his shoulders tense and his throat feel tight, his breath feeling caught in his throat.
He doesn't remember the last time Shoto asked to go anywhere with him. He doesn't remember his son ever accompanying him of his own free will, or with any measure of enthusiasm. Perhaps internships could be counted, but even that had been out of necessity to learn, not because he wanted anything to do with his dad.
Yet here he is, asking to come along now. To feed a bunch of scraggly stray cats that will probably cover them in their fur so thoroughly that they'll never quite get it all off. Shoto wants to go with him. He wants to go along.
Enji blinks a few times, wondering why his eyes are stinging so fiercely. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he nods.
"The help would be much appreciated, thank you." His therapist said it was important to thank his kids for things they did, and to show positivity in the face of their presence so that they know they're wanted. "Would you... like to help me load the food into the car?"
It's a cautious question. Shoto doesn't appear frazzled by it, or any of this, in the least. He just dips his head in confirmation, standing up and picking up his bowl as he does.
"I'll put this in the sink." He agrees, like all of this is the easiest thing in the world.
(And what does Enji know? Maybe it is, and he's just forgotten how to be a person.)
Despite Enji being out of costume, the one-eyed orange cat still seems to spot him. It lets out a loud meow, darting for its place in his arms before it can be taken. The signal is enough to have cats flooding out from every direction, immediately swarming around his legs.
His pants don't protect as well against claws as his thick suit does, nor does his jacket. He frowns a bit at the pinpricks that stab at him as they try to scramble for a seat on his broad shoulders, roosting like owls tucked up against one another.
Shoto looks a bit stunned by such a quick reaction, blinking a few times fast as his father is overtaken by cats. Enji just slouches slightly, resigned to his fate. The orange cat purrs wildly in his arms, curled up into a tight little ball, face rubbing all against his chest.
A few cats stray over to Shoto, brushing against his legs. They shy away from his cold side but seem enamored by the heat his left emits, clambering up. The lack of balance makes Shoto tilt slightly, his brows furrowing. Enji wonders how mad his son would be if he took a photo.
The cats are as affectionate as always, and as resistant to being put down as usual. He's forced to operate with one hand as he opens the trunk and starts prying boxes open, brow furrowing. His attempts to push off any cats that clamber into his arms are practically futile, and Shoto made the mistake of squatting down to be on the cat's level, so he's lost.
It could be worse, Enji guesses. The first can he finally manages to pop open has tiny heads swiveling, and he gets full mobility of his right shoulder back as the two cats perched there release their claws and launch off towards the food. The reaction is a ray of hope where there is none, honestly, because so far nothing has worked.
"There's so many." Shoto says, breaking the tense silence between them, which had previously been filled with nothing but incessant meows now that the cats were realizing there was food to be had. Glancing down at his youngest son, Enji couldn't help but smile a little at the wonder on his face. "I didn't realize."
Shoto looked younger with such awe on his face. More like the child he was supposed to be, but hadn't been allowed to be. Enji took a breath and swore to himself that he'd tread lightly, rolling his shoulders as the rest of the cats on him obligingly dropped off in search of food.
"They seem to multiply every time I come here." Enji offered, setting down the orange cat, which was the only one that seemed content to stick to him rather than try their luck getting their face in a can. "They're very... persistent."
Shoto snorted. It wasn't quite a laugh, but Enji's heartrate skyrocketed anyway. When was the last time he said something Shoto found genuinely amusing, in a manner that was not twisted or roundabout? Had he ever?
Enji doesn't know. He doesn't know and he almost does care, because his son is here with him right now and it... it feels good. It feels good to spend time with it. It warms Enji to his core, making his heart feel full and his entire being feel that much lighter. He doesn't deserve it, but Enji is too selfish not to take.
"That seems like an understatement." Shoto declares. Enji, giving up trying to put the one-eyed cat down after it climbs back up him for the third time, holds a can up to their face instead. The cat sniffs a bit but readily begins to eat. Enji decides that, for a stray, it's quite a spoiled thing.
They must look like quite the sight, standing in the middle of the wide sidewalk surrounded by dozens of cans, each with a cat looming over it and excitedly lapping away at the chunks of gravy goodness inside. There's so many that it's impossible for them to move, as they'd probably step on one if they tried.
A few people passing by snap photos, but no press make themselves known. Enji is glad for it. Glad that he can focus on this instead, at the way Shoto crouches down again to carefully pet along the back of one of the eating cats, enamored by their fluff of fur and long, swishing tail.
Enji watches Shoto more than he does the cats. Sees the way he tries to pet every single one, tries to tuck his cold hand away from them as to not startle them off. As the cats finish their meals and drift back towards the present sources of heat, Shoto's hand seems to jump from head to head, scratching behind little ears.
It's somewhat of a novelty to be here. To see him like this. He never imagined Shoto could be quite so relaxed around Enji, could stand to be near him like this for any amount of time. Something in him thaws and starts to melt, and Enji lets out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
His glance flickers down to the one-eyed cat still in the crook of his arm. It peers up at him as imploringly as always, always looking as though it's asking a question. Even if Enji knew what the creature was asking, he's not sure he'd have an answer.
They stay there together until the sun starts to droop. Shoto stays sat on the ground, letting the cats brush against him and tuck into his side. He seems at peace, and Enji doesn't dare interrupt him, only responding to him if he speaks first, not wanting to disrupt the content his son has found here with him.
It's as street lights start to flicker on that Shoto finally looks up at him, mismatched eyes shining. Enji shifts from foot to foot, peering down at him and feeling helplessly lost as to what to do. Shoto looks happy, almost, and Enji dares to hope for more--
"Do you want to go get something to eat?" Enji blurts out. His son pauses, and he backpedals a bit, swallowing down his panic. "It's getting quite late, and lunch was some time ago. There are plenty of drive-thrus still open. We could go through one on the way home, or get takeout."
He tries not to sound too hopeful but knows he fails. Enji's not sure if he feels like an idiot for asking, or if he feels like an idiot for daring to hope in the first place. He half expects Shoto to laugh, or curl his lip, or wrinkle his nose, disgusted by the mere notion of doing something with his father without the lure of time spent petting fuzzy animals.
Enji braces for the worst, but Shoto... does not do any of these things. Because Shoto has always been, and will always be, better than Enji expects. Better than Enji is. Better than Enji deserves, for all that he's done.
Rather than turn away, Shoto smiles up at him instead. A small but genuine smile that makes Enji's heart turn. It's an image he wishes he could save forever, his son looking at him with something other than contempt, surrounded by eager cats on all sides and seeming happier than Enji has had the privilege of seeing him in a long time.
"I want soba to go." Shoto declares, despite the fact that he'd had it for lunch, and probably breakfast too.
"I think we can handle that." Enji agrees anyway, his voice coming out a little too choked to pass as normal. He holds a hand out to his son to help him up. Shoto stares at it for a beat before he reaches out and takes it.
They both get soba to go. They eat it together at the dining room table when they get home, and it's long since gone cold by the time they get there. As Enji slurps his noodles and listens to Shoto give quite frankly awful name recommendations for all the different cats he got to pet, he thinks he might see the appeal.
Enji feeds the cats every day, and Shoto joins him as often as he can. When he doesn't, Enji sends photos and delights in the positive texts he gets back.
He feels a whole lot like he's floating these days. Like some part of him he hadn't quite realized was broken is finally starting to heal, making the world seem all the more colorful. He's less quick to anger, and he feels more awake than he has in a long, long time. He gets out of bed and feels like he can actually get through the day in one piece rather than just struggle through it.
The press eats it all up, but Enji scarcely cares what they say anymore. Having Shoto actually interact with him makes Enji feel like maybe his efforts to be better are paying off. Maybe he's not as bad a person as he thought he was. Maybe he's making progress, and maybe that matters.
Shoto is talking to him again. His son is talking to him again. Enji doesn't mistake it for forgiveness, because he's well aware that's something he may never get, but he still takes it as the gift it is all the same.
Enji doesn't think it can get all that much better. Shoto so much as glancing at him with something other than disdain is already monumental enough. Actually going with him places-- they ate at a restaurant last weekend. Just the two of them, and Shoto told him about school, and his friends, and--
Enji had smiled like an idiot the entire time and didn't care a bit how moronic he probably looked. He's not saying he cried when he got home and finally laid in bed that night, but he's not going to say he didn't, either.
Just... He never thought he'd have this. And he knows he still isn't worthy of it, but Shoto has given it to him all the same.
Enji is expecting that to be as good as it gets. It would make sense for things to stagnate at a certain level. Boundaries exist, and Enji isn't expecting any of his children to broach past a certain point with him. Which is fine. Enji is happy with this much.
Only, that's... sort of not what happens. Because when he gets home one day, ready to change and go feed the cats, Natsuo is in the kitchen.
This is alarming because first of all, it's rare that Natsuo ever comes over, and even rarer that Enji runs into him. It's like seeing a unicorn in the wild. If Shoto's feelings towards him could be categorized near the spectrum of hate, Natsuo positively loathed him in every single way. He made that very clear anytime their paths crossed, and it's not as though Enji could fault him for it.
The truth is that Enji hardly knows Natsuo. The fact of such is Enji's fault and no one else's, of course. He was neglectful at best, completely abusive at worst. Natsuo's resentment of him was entirely justified. Though he'd stopped being belligerent over text, Enji never expected their relationship to expand past that.
In fact, as soon as Shoto was an adult, he'd fully expected to never see or hear from Natsuo again. It wouldn't have surprised him at all.
Seeing him here makes Enji stop dead in his tracks. His son takes after him in all ways aside from his hair and eye color, from his blocky jaw to his wide shoulders. They have the same nose, the same set of their brows, the same wide hands and fingers.
Natsuo is a younger him in different colors, and Enji knows that he... that he hates it. That he hates resembling Enji more than anything else in the world. Enji doesn't blame him for that either, but it makes looking at him hurt more.
It takes Enji a moment to fully comprehend Natsuo. When he does, he immediately notices that he's not dressed as he normally is. Instead he wears powder blue scrubs, the sleeves of the black longed-sleeved shirt has had underneath it rolled up to his elbows. Enji blinks wildly, wondering momentarily if he's hallucinating.
"Oh! You're back. About time." Natsuo sounds strangely cheerful, which is such a vast change from his usual outright hostility that Enji can do nothing more than stare at him stupidly. Natsuo hauls one of the four massive coolers on the counter up and into his arms. "Help me load these into the car. This'll be harder to do if the sun sets."
Enji stares. And stares some more.
"What?" He asks after a beat, brows drawing in. Natsuo rolls his eyes at him. It... almost looks amiable. Enji resists the urge to take a step back and flee as his son approaches.
"Final project. I'll be a certified Veterinarian Technician after this, and well on my way to being an actual vet. Not that you'd know or care." Natsuo's tone lapses into bitterness, and Enji is almost relieved to hear it. At least it's familiar. "Don't worry; I charged your card."
A cooler is shoved into his waiting arms. Enji looks down at it, dumbfounded. It's fairly weighty, and he very nearly drops it in his moment of shock. Natsuo shoots him a warning glare, scoffing in an unimpressed manner that would probably make him bristle a little were he not so confused.
It feels like Enji is lost a lot these days, honestly. Is that a part of fatherhood? He thinks it may be a part of fatherhood. Or maybe it's just a him thing. It's not like he knows what the hell he's doing, no matter how much his therapist tries to reassure him that he does and just doesn't realize.
"These are for the cats?" Enji blinks, Natsuo's words finally catching up to him. His son raises a brow.
"Rabies, feline panleukopenia virus, feline rhinotracheitis virus, feline calicivirus, and feline leukemia." Natsuo hauls a laptop bag over his shoulder and slings the strap of a digital camera over his head, letting the band hang off his neck. "And the supplies for chipping so we can keep track of who has what. I hope you're ready to start naming them-- we'll have to title them with something."
Natsuo... is going to vaccinate the cats. Natsuo is asking Enji to come with him to vaccinate that cats. Natsuo is going to spend time with him.
All at once, it hits him. Enji can't stop himself from lighting up a little. He used to try not to, because he had an image to uphold and it wasn't in his nature to be bright in any way other than when his quirk was active. Over his recent time with Shoto, he'd learned to just... stop caring.
What was the point of holding up a front? If he wanted his kids to be open with him, he needed to be open with them first. That was another tip from the little red alien website, Redbit. They really did have everything on there. Cat food to fathering advice? There was nothing you couldn't find.
"Shoto has given several recommendations!" Enji proclaimed proudly, excitement filling him. Natsuo stared at him like he'd never seen him before, mildly disturbed. "We can get cold soba afterwards!"
Natsuo made a face, side-eyeing him.
"God. Alright, I can see you've been influenced. I guess Shoto's right. You really have changed." He seemed disgusted by the mere notion. "Whatever. This isn't about us bonding. Go grab another cooler and let's just get this over with. I'm doing this for the cats, not you."
Enji practically floated out the door after him, fall leaves crunching underfoot. He let Natsuo pick the music on the way there. Every single song was spiteful and made vague allusions to his son wanting to kill him, beat him up, or never see him again.
Enji just smiled, tapping his fingers along to the beat and pretending he couldn't see Natsuo doing the same.
So turns out chipping and vaccinating cats is not as easy as it looks.
They do the one-eyed cat first, because it practically materializes into Enji's arms the moment he opens his car door and steps out. It sets an unrealistic standard by being completely still and wiggling only mildly as Enji holds it-- holds him-- in place. He obliges to being chipped, graciously named Gingersnap, and takes each shot with little more than a sniff of discomfort.
Natsuo snaps the cat's photo. It uploads automatically to his laptop which is so fascinating that Enji has to ask (read: demand furiously) how such a thing is even possible. He'd though for certain you had to plug digital cameras into a computer to get the photos to go onto them, but now he's being told that's not the case?
Luckily, Natsuo seems more amused by his lack of knowledge than anything. Maybe because it's obvious to him and something Enji should know, and now Natsuo gets to lord the knowledge over him. Either way, he starts to explain in-between the indignant howling of the cats they stab.
"Are you seriously this technologically challenged?" Natsuo laughed, and Enji absorbed the sound like a sponge. Apparently, Enji's ignorance and subsequent idiocy were enough to soften him. "Is that why you're always sending me silent voice memos?"
Enji has no idea what a voice memo is.
"I know how to do some things." Enji offers vaguely. "I have a private Tweeter and I use Redbit to ask questions. And I can Google as needed."
Natsuo chokes for two minutes, then starts to laugh harder. Enji has no idea why but counts it as a win anyway. It's already amazing enough that he's here. This may be the last time he gets time like this with him. Enji is determined to cherish it.
It's fun, getting to know him. It makes Enji regret not doing it sooner all the more. It makes his hatred for himself deepen with a new vengeance. Natsuo is wonderful. He's smart and brilliant, just as any child of Enji's was bound to be. Each shared tidbit of information is greedily hoarded.
Natsuo originally went to school for nursing but found animals easier to deal with and switched. He has a girlfriend, though he pointedly doesn't elaborate on that even when Enji perks up. He had smores pizza last weekend, had a new jacket get ruined because a dog vomited on it, and has a pet Chinchilla and a cat of his own.
Enji asks questions. He asks about what his college is like, and what class is his favorite. He asks anything he thinks he might get an answer out of and hardly notices the way the cats all fight against him, glaring at him harshly afterwards and slinking off to the cans he systematically sets down afterwards to reward them.
The food keeps them from running off, at least. Enji hopes it'll be enough to make sure they come back later so they can be adopted.
Honestly, the cats fight so hard that Enji very quickly becomes glad Natsuo didn't give him time to change out of his hero costume, which protects against scrabbling claws. The cats are less than happy about the circumstances, and Enji swears they only get grumpier as they're given names-- names courtesy of Shoto.
"He suggested Metal Can as a name?" Natsuo asked, bewildered and perhaps a tad judgmental. "And we're going to use it?"
"We've already named one Meow, Curtain Rod, Wood Cabin, Scuba, Radish Man, and Meat." Enji frowned. "Metal Can is far from the worst on the list."
Natsuo couldn't really argue with that.
They vaccinate every cat they can get their hands on, and chip them too. Natsuo is quick and efficient, relentless as he flips the cats over to find out their sex even as they howl at his cold hands. The one-eyed cat stays on Enji's shoulder throughout the entire ordeal, even as he wrestles with the other cats, all of which are far stronger than they look.
Grumbling, Natsuo types data furiously into his computer, muttering something about spaying and neutering, statistics, and funding. Enji shares a look with the one-eyed cat on his shoulder, who flicks its ears. Honestly, Enji's right there with him.
All in all? Enji would call it a raging success. It was hard for Natsuo to find the time to insult him when he was so busy explaining how cameras worked, boggling over Shoto's cat name choices, and fighting for his life against the cats who decidedly wanted to end it after the first needle went in.
"Oh my god. That was awful." Natsuo states as soon as they're both back in the car, slamming their doors shut. They're positively covered in fur, their hands and Natsuo's forearms littered with angry, red scratches. "Maybe I do want cold soba."
"I know just the place." Enji mutters, exhausted but triumphant. He smiles slightly. "We can eat it back at the house."
Natsuo doesn't say no. It feels like the biggest victory of the night. That same, warm, fuzzy emotion swells up in Enji's chest. He wonders if the press he saw recording them from a distance got any good shots. He wonders if Natsuo would be upset if Enji printed and framed some to keep.
They eat in the living room instead of the dining room-- something Enji never allowed the kids to do growing up. They get cat fur on the couch in the process, and Natsuo flicks on a movie, sagging into the cushions with a sigh that seems to release all the tension out of his body.
Enji observes him for a moment, takes him in fully and in his entirety. Forces himself to really see the planes of his face. His cheekbones, which are fairer than Enji's own, and the shape of his mouth. The mold of his chin, and shape of his eyes, and color of his skin. Enji stares at him and--
"You look so much like your mother." He realizes aloud. Natsuo blinks, turning to look at him in surprise.
He smiles. Enji is helpless to do anything but smile back.
As soon as Fuyumi hears about it, she wants in.
If Enji has a good relationship with any of his children, it's Fuyumi. She's too forgiving for her own good, sweet and always trying. She'd been relentless in her attempts to bridge the gaps in the family, wanting more than anything for them to come together and just... be. And as Enji aged and worked through his own issues, he was honestly right there with her.
Fuyumi was soft in a lot of ways. It made it easy to forget that it was her spine that had hardened into steel when Rei left, and Touya died. It was her who stood up and started to cook dinners, and take care of her little brothers. It was her who juggled school and housework, and all the burdens that came with both.
The reminder comes back full force when he gets home and finds her on the floor of the living room, surrounded by papers. Papers that, upon closer inspection, have absolutely nothing to do with her job as a preschool teacher.
They're the files of the cats-- the chip profiles that Natsuo made. Half of them feature Enji's awkward expression as he holds them up.
"Sit, sit!" Fuyumi chirped out, looking actually a little manic. Enji eyed her cautiously. "I'm just organizing the adoption event! We've already got a venue and a website, and Natsuo's college is sponsoring spay and neuter vouchers, so anyone who adopts can go get one for free at any of the select locations! That way we won't have to spay and neuter all of them before we adopt them out!"
Enji, not really wanting to argue her when she looks like she's fit to lunge, sits. Fuyumi launches into a full scale overview that makes him think maybe she should be his head of PR.
Enji has no idea how she got so many important phone numbers, but she had. He doesn't know if he should be proud, scared, or both. He loves her, but she is a monster when she wants to be. Then again, what Todoroki isn't?
Enji listens to her go nonstop and halfway through realizes that she hasn't slept in at least twenty-four hours, because half the things she's referencing happened at subsequent hours of the night with seemingly no breaks in-between them. He almost wants to bring it up but fears what will happen if he interrupts.
It's simple, Fuyumi tells him. Natsuo's university is going to host the event, and they'll do basic screenings of all the cats that come in-- checks for illness, pregnancy, such of the like. Fuyumi has already announced it on social media, so it's too late to back out. Enji just nods along.
"I need to make sure I can get the time off." He realizes, already resigned to his fate. Fuyumi gives him a look.
"I already called you in." She says, like that should've been obvious. Enji squints. Can she even do-- "Shoto and Natsuo will also be there, and we really, really want to support Natsuo. This is super big for him! The Wild Wild Pussycat's will also be there too! Oh, and--"
Enji listens to her devolve into yet another breakdown of every single detail she can think of, which is apparently a lot. Something in his stomach sours when he realizes that in the past, it might've annoyed him more. That he likely would've snapped at her to shut up.
Her eyes are practically sparkling now. She's very elaborate in the way she moves her hands, gesticulating widely as she speaks. Fuyumi all but glows with passion for the project set out before her, her smile big and genuine. She's beautiful.
He used to snuff that out. He used to take that away from her.
Enji promises himself that he'll never dare do it again and instead lets himself relax, nodding along as he does. Inside him, something settles.
The event is massive, probably one of the biggest adoption events Japan has ever seen. On top of Enji's cats, other shelters bring their own collections of felines in, hoping against hope that they'll find homes. The entire academy hall is lined with cages and attendants set to tend to them, the sound of chatter loud and mingling with the unending meows.
The turnout is insane. Enji hadn't been as active on tweeter lately, but apparently his hype had not died down even slightly. People have been gushing over him and his efforts relentlessly. His dedication to his feline friends has sent the country into a frenzy.
People praised him and his family for what they'd been doing. They cooed over their "familial bonds" and applauded all the money they'd poured into this cause, for food, for vaccines, for the event itself. Enji, for his efforts, was more than worthy of being Number One in their eyes.
He still had no idea how treating cats well equated to him being a good hero, but Enji's decided to stop asking questions. It's getting him nowhere. Though, he guesses cats can be saved too, right?
He's not going to overthink it.
It feels like there a little bit of everything here. So many cats it's hard to process, and more heroes than Enji thinks should be at a cat adoption event. The Wild Wild Pussycats are there as promised, all of them dressed in full regalia and ready to help sell the cats to potential adopters.
Shoto's homeroom teacher is here as well for some reason, though Enji has no idea why. The man is just lying in the kitten pen, covered in sleeping cats. Enji would almost think him dead, but Shoto had already shaken his head and confirmed that such behavior was well and normal for him.
Enji wasn't going to analyze that or what it meant for his youngest son's education too closely. Instead he takes a breath, eyes sweeping over his own collection of cats. Gingersnap meows sadly at him from his place locked away, and Enji feels something in him pang slightly. He swallows thickly, averting his eyes and ignoring the ache that starts to form.
Behind him, Fuyumi gives him a look he doesn't quite catch. She pulls out her phone, shooting off a text.
Gang Orca is here, and so is Best Jeanist. Hawks' feathers soar from cage to cage, paws swiping playfully at them as they tease their way about. Present Mic plays music that's apparently 'relaxing' for cats, though Enji has no idea how true that actually is and he isn't about to ask.
"Wow!" Fuyumi delighted as the doors opened and people began to flood in. Some sprinted, clearly already having specific cats in mind. Enji's heart skipped a beat as a young couple raced past Gingersnap's cage. "So many people came! I had no idea it'd be so popular!"
"More than 'so many'." Shoto looked sleepy and like he may nod off, holding the icy-pop Natsuo had shoved into his hand dazedly. "We should get a cat. Why don't we have one?"
Enji's eyes strayed over to Gingersnap again. He didn't get to answer before a few people were bouncing over and asking for a selfie, eyes full of dazzled awe. Enji swiftly stood, shoulders tense as he nodded and awkwardly shuffled forward.
It was astonishing how fast time flew. Autographs and photos were given, and at some point Natsuo came and abducted him to the "photo booth". Apparently he was supposed to be taking professional photos with anyone who adopted one of his cats, many of whom he recognized.
There was something profoundly gratifying about seeing the cats scooped up and cooed over. To know that different shelters would be picking up the follow up on his cats to make sure their owners were up to par and taking care of them. He felt some of the stress he'd been feeling over the whole event seep out of him with each familiar furry face he saw get whisked away by someone with a beaming smile.
It was strange to realize that he'd done all this. That somehow, the act of a single cat climbing him one day had led to this. To all these cats finding homes, to all these people coming together. Enji's PR manager even shows up, crying, and gives him flowers. Gives them to Enji. Not the other way around.
It's a bit of a blur. Enji doesn't get a single break, but part of him revels in the busyness of it. It's natural for him to fall into a rhythm and work, work, work through it. It's made all the more pleasant by his children, all of whom bob around in his general vicinity-- with Natsuo doing health checks, and Shoto randomly petting cats, and Fuyumi happily managing logistics.
They're doing it together. They're all doing it together, as a family. And as Enji stands there, he realizes that all of these people came because of what he and his kids did. They're here for Enji Todoroki. They came for Endeavor, because he decided he was going to do something that mattered and he went through with it.
Maybe, Enji realizes, he doesn't need to fill All Might's shoes at all. Maybe it was never about trying to live up to all he was. Maybe it was about filling his own shoes all along, about forging his own way and casting his own shadow instead of trying to overtake someone else's.
Endeavor looks out at the crowd as they start to dissipate and he sees all the empty cages. Sees all the cats that got new homes, and all the people who got a new friend. For the first time in a long time, he feels like a real hero.
"I've never worked so hard in my life." Natsuo dabbed sweat from his forehead as he came to drop into the seat next to his dad's. On Enji's other side, Shoto was drifting off again. "I'm definitely getting an A. And a scholarship. Maybe two scholarships."
"And I'm definitely considering a career in event organizing! That was so fun." Fuyumi chirped. Enji tensed as Shoto tilted, knocking into the side of his arm. He didn't move an inch, barely breathing. "How many cats got adopted out? All of them?"
Enji sucked in a sharp breath of air, fingers curling in and out of fists. He ducked his head slightly, peering down at his calloused hands and trying to ignore the way his chest tightened. This was a good thing. It was a good thing.
"Almost." Natsuo shot a glance at him, and he grinned. "There was actually only one left. I guess missing eyes and chipped ears aren't all that attractive to potential adopters, and apparently the paper on the front of his kennel somehow fell off, so nobody realized he wasn't already taken anyway."
Enji's head snapped up. Natsuo's grin widened, and Fuyumi hid a smile. Next to him, Shoto lazily blinked, reluctantly forcing himself to sit up. Enji popped out of his chair immediately.
Enji had never really had a pet before-- not growing up or anytime after. He had little experience interacting with animals before now. It was weird to think that this whole ordeal was his first real dose of it, especially considering his age, but it was true. Life simply hadn't steered Enji towards them.
He hadn't really thought that an animal could mean something to a person. Not-- not that they couldn't be loved and love back, or be cherished. Of course they could. That... wasn't what he meant. He just-- he doesn't know how to explain it.
Enji's not sentimental and never has been. He doesn't express emotion much. He's not materialistic, doesn't get attached to things easily. He's always been more ambitious and logic oriented, out of tune with his feelings and what they meant. In the face of his goals, what he felt always meant nothing.
This whole thing had changed his life. It had changed his life irrevocably. It had brought his kids back to him, had allowed him to open up to them in a way he'd struggled to before. Enji felt like he could finally see himself. Enji finally felt like he mattered, like he'd made progress, like he was actually better.
Something had made him better, though. Or made him feel better, anyway. And as he turned the corner, there Gingersnap-- the only cat Enji had named himself-- was.
The cat was the only one left in the line of kennels, looking so sad all by himself. He meowed pitifully, pawing at the bars as soon as Enji was in view. Enji couldn't quite stop the relieved smile that crossed his face at the sight of him. His shoulders slouched, and he breathed in deeply, shaken.
He'd been stupid not to realize it before. Gingersnap had, in many ways, chosen Enji. Chosen him in the way the cat was always first in his arms, never letting Enji put him down until it was time to go. The cat had just been waiting for Enji to choose him back.
And Enji would. Not because of anything too profound, but because... well. He liked the cat.
"Does this mean we are getting a cat?" Shoto asked hopefully as Enji popped the latch. Immediately, Gingersnap was in his arms, purring heavily. Natsuo snorted derisively.
"We're not getting anything." Natsuo patted Shoto on the back. "Sorry to break it to you, but that cat is dad's, through and through. It literally rides on his shoulder like a Pokemon and lets him hold it like a baby."
Enji, who was indeed holding Gingersnap like a baby, turned to blink at them with big eyes. Fuyumi laughed and brought her phone up to take a photo.
(They took a professional photo with the photographer right after, because all of Enji's adopted out cats needed a photo with him. Enji framed it in his office and took great delight to find that it was trending tweeter.)
Gingersnap is warm and purring in Enji's lap that same night as he sits as his desk, tired from the long day. The ache in his bones feels more rewarding than it does anything else. Enji breathes out and feels entirely relaxed, even as he gazes down at the very thing he's been avoiding.
The stationary is pretty. Fuyumi had picked it out for him, the corners adorned by print of blue flowers. The paper itself had a light, icy tint to it. This is long, long overdue and he knows it. It's terrifying-- but then, many things are.
This is the next step. This is his way forward. He may be better than he was before, but he is by no means the best he can possibly be and he knows it. Enji Todoroki loves his kids. He would give the world for them. This, he can do.
This, he can give them.
Enji lifts his pen, one hand grounded on Gingersnaps head, and forces himself to finally start writing.
Dear Rei, He writes. I hope this letter and the flowers find you well.
Bonus:
Hawks crashes into his apartment so fast that Dabi very nearly upends a pot of boiling pasta water down his own front. He curses, slamming said pot back down on the burner and fantasizing about all the ways he's going to burn the obnoxious pro hero at the stake. He never should've given him a key to this place.
Then again, Dabi never should've done a lot of things.
He's not sure what he's expecting. Maybe for Hawks to once again try spontaneously proposing to him, as he seems so keen to do these days. He uses a different ring every time, like he thinks that's the problem here and not Dabi's record as a serial arsonist.
That life is behind him now, at least. Small mercies. It's sort of hard to want to kill your dad for being a piece of shit when he's trying so hard not to be one, and kidnapping kids isn't really Dabi's forte anyway. He was as away from all that as he was going to get, off the radar from the League and everyone else.
But no, no, off topic. If not a ring, then fried chicken, Dabi assumes. It's always fried chicken. Dabi could promise to have a four course meal plated and ready for Hawks when he arrives, and he'd still show up with a goddamn bucket of KFC and throw off every single one of Dabi's plans. Not that he was actually invited this time, but--
Oh.
It's... not a ring. Or a tub of chicken. Or him bleeding out from a wound he refuses to get treated at the hospital for reason that Dabi still cannot fathom. It's...
"I got you a present!" Hawks beams as Dabi squints at him, holding the grey tabby out under its armpits for him to see. It hisses half-heartedly, dangling there and looking as dead inside as Dabi feels. "Her name is Metal Can!"
Dabi stares. Contemplates lighting himself and this entire building on fire.
He turns back to his pasta instead. Everything else, he decides, can wait.