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Hawks lies awake and stares up into the ceiling as he systematically lists out every terrible decision he 's made that 's ended up with him in this position. There are a lot of them, incidentally, but they 're not

all

entirely his fault. Sometimes life just deals you a shitty hand, like a homicidal thief for a father and an alcoholic for a mother, and all you can do is make the most of it. Other times you (enthusiastically) fall into bed with a villain you 're meant to be double-crossing, face plant your way into feelings for said villain, and then lie awake in an existential panic next to the man you 're more than likely going to need to kill in the upcoming months.

To wit: Hawks has a lot of problems, most of them are his fault, and instead of doing something about them he keeps sleeping with the worst of them instead.

And he doesn 't really have a lot to say in his defense. He can just

imagine

the media circus the court case is going to end up being, with him at the center. The fallout will be apoplectic, because there 's no fucking way he 'll let the opportunity to drag the Commission down with him slide. Yes, your Honor, I fully and enthusiastically consented to sleep with the country 's most-wanted criminal. Yes, the Commission unanimously approved for me to infiltrate the upper echelon of the criminal underworld by any means necessary, up to and including fucking my way into it. What do I have to say in my defense? Well. He 's really fucking pretty.

Hawks might be going down in flames here, but hell if he won 't be doing it with the incredible style and panache his fans deserve.

As if on cue, the object of his late night hysteria flings an arm out across him with a sleepy murmur. He 's still entirely dead to the world, long silver-white lashes swooping against pale cheeks, that immoral mouth of his lax and plush with sleep. Not for the first time Hawks wonders what he, the golden-boy and poster-child of following the Commission 's orders to a tee, was thinking when he ended up falling for this irreverent human dumpster fire. Not for the first time, Hawks stares at him and realizes at the end of the day Dabi is just really stupid pretty, and very, very shiny, and there probably was zero thought involved in that decision at all.

The arm across his chest is warm like a toasty furnace. Lean and pale and unspoiled as the rest of him. Flawless. Removed from the mere trials and tribulations of the mortal coil. Nothing ever touches Dabi ' everything about him is perfect and untouchable. A decade of villainy, doused in fires that could melt diamonds, and he remains as unflinchingly immaculate as ever. It 's almost inhuman, really. There isn 't a single imperfection to mark a life well-lived (or lived at all); no little scars from childhood accidents, from scraped knees or playgrounds, from training with his lethal quirk, from a life of crime and murder.

Hawks curls a hand over the thin wrist dangled over his collar, just contemplating.

His

Infinity

is down.

It always is when they 're in bed, for obvious reasons. But it usually makes its return when he 's actually asleep. Hawks wonders if it's subconscious at this point. Probably. Then he wonders what it means that it 's not active now.

His sharp eyes narrow onto the face next to him. He looks peaceful, his breathing rhythmic and even. It 's possible he 's faking it ' that this is a trap. That he 's testing Hawks right now, to see if he 'll take the bait and strike while his guard is down.

The worst part is ' it doesn 't even matter.

Whether it 's a test, a trick, a ploy, or just an accidental sign of trust.

It 's true that he

should

use the opening to his advantage. It wouldn 't even be remotely difficult to just call up a feather, sharpen it into a deadly blade, and plunge it right into the unsuspecting man 's unguarded heart. There 's no telling if he 'll ever get another opportunity like this to take down one of the country 's (and the world 's) most dangerous criminals. It 's the sort of opportunity that takes months, years, even

lifetimes

to get; Dabi is infamously invulnerable. His forcefield isn 't without its weaknesses, but the real danger to the man isn 't his telekinetic powers or even his catastrophic flames, it 's his

mind.

And asleep like this, boneless and relaxed and unconscious with no forcefield ' people have

died

for a chance like this.

It 's been minutes since Hawks has blinked. If Dabi was actually awake, there 's no way it wouldn 't unnerve the man into making some kind of involuntary movement. He really is completely defenseless right now.

And instead of plunging a blade into his chest, Hawks just sighs and rolls over.

Because for all that he should bury a blade through the other man 's heart, it 'd be akin to burying one in his own at the same time. And there 's nothing to be done for that now. Whether consciously or not, Hawks has already unfortunately made his choice.

As he settles in to attempt to get some restless sleep himself, he misses the striking aquamarine eyes peering out from beneath a guard of pearlescent lashes. The inhuman and disconcerting swirl of the Six Eyes as it focuses on his oblivious form, a low and contemplative gaze.

//

MAY DEATH NEVER STOP YOU

//

Todoroki Touya was born with his mother 's shock of white hair and his father 's blue eyes.

That 's what everyone says, and Gojo never feels the need to correct them. His awareness comes into shocking focus at four years-old ' probably the earliest his developing mind could handle the consciousness of an adult and a kind of power that could turn men into gods. Those big blue eyes of his turn striking and sharp, iridescent and fractal and unnerving for most people to look at directly. There 's some talk of a bewildering optic-quirk in the wake of his Six Eyes manifesting, but after he conjures up flames nearly immediately after the incident it 's all brushed off as just a weird circumstance.

At first, his father seems intrigued by his flames. He becomes significantly less intrigued when a doctor informs them his body is actually better suited for an ice quirk, and therefore ill suited for a fire quirk. Frankly, Gojo could care less about his opinion.

He 'd be happy to be cast off as a useless spare like his other two siblings were when their ice quirks manifested, but as of now Gojo was still his father 's best bet. He might be physically weak and unsuited for the quirk he wields, but at least his flames were shaping up to be powerful.

The training was brutal. Gojo 's adult mind registered it immediately as abusive, just barely swept under the pretense of 'discipline '. As far as he could see ' which meant a lot, as he could see everything ' the extent of his father 's physical abuse was centered around him. To his siblings and mother, he was the sort of neglectful and absent patriarch Gojo remembered his own father to be in his past life. He was needlessly cruel and quick to anger, so fixated on his own goals and obsessions he couldn 't see past them. Personally, Gojo thought the world would be better off without him, but he was probably the only one who thought that. Apparently Endeavor was the number two hero in the country, a man who 'd saved countless lives. Calling him a Hero was laughable in Gojo 's opinion, but then again that term was tossed around in this world far too much for his liking. It had entirely lost its meaning, more about a capitalist corporate industry than an aspirational quality.

He spent every night using his reverse-curse technique to heal the worst of the burns and scrapes he 'd receive over the course of the day, feeling entirely removed from his life and existence in a way he 'd never allowed himself to be in his first life.

He 'd kill his father if he thought it would do any good, but currently he still had use for him.

Quirks were still new to him, and entirely unlike the cursed energy he 'd spent an entire lifetime perfecting. And fire quirks had so much potential for danger, it was easier to learn from an expert on the subject than try to muddle his way through it on his own. It was simple enough to ignore the verbal abuse, and when he could feel his young body reaching its limits he wasn 't afraid to put his foot down.

The first time he stopped in the middle of training and proclaimed he was done for the day, he 'd thought it would come down to a fight. He 'd win, of course, but not without revealing his Limitless technique and possibly eviscerating the man in the process.

But perhaps his father was more astute than he 'd given him credit for, because he 'd stared into Gojo 's unflinching gaze and conceded. Like two apex predators locking gazes and begrudgingly agreeing to stand down.

(It was his eyes, in fact, that won him that battle. That inhuman and disquieting gaze of his, the insurmountable and unknowable wrath of the universe straining against the fissures of his human shell. Endeavor had stared into them, truly and entirely, for the very first time, and realized everyone was wrong. People said all the time that his eldest had his eyes. Those weren 't his eyes at all.)

//

Before Gojo was the most feared villain in the country, ruling across the underworld with an unflinching power not unlike a disinterred and disillusioned god walking amongst mere mortals, he was an insufferable punk living it up in his middle school glory days.

He 'd spent one youth as an egotistical brat with all the arrogance of a child born to be the best, and he didn 't necessarily need another.

But there was being an arrogant jerk who thought himself the best and above everyone else ' because he was ' and then there was being the eccentric and irreverent class joker and resident delinquent.

Well, let it be said there are worse ways to misspend a youth than petty arsonry and a biker gang.

He gets his ears pierced because he 'd never gotten the opportunity for it in his last life, terrorizes the local yakuza, couch surfs across the living rooms of multiple questionable individuals and spends as much time as possible screaming into a microphone at alt-rock show venues and avoids the cavernous palace he calls home. Surprisingly, it 's a rather cathartic experience all and all ' just doing whatever the fuck he wants, uncaring of expectations or the needs of society.

He 'd be at the top of the class if he wasn 't constantly in danger of expulsion for truancy, and he 's consistently the highest ranked student in exams. His mother quietly frets over him but never manages to work up the courage to confront him about it. His father rages and eventually it does come to blows, and Gojo proves his superiority in that arena by shoulder-tossing a man three times his size through two walls and into the koi pond outside. He then curses him out to the delight of his brother and the shock of his sister. The littlest of them, a little chimera of a kid barely old enough to stand on two legs that Gojo hadn 't even realized

existed

before, is too young to understand what 's going on and instead opines for ice cream. Gojo laughs uproariously, lights up a cigarette in the house, and agrees to bring him and all their siblings to the local konbini, leaving his father floundering out in the pond. Teenage delinquency is an

excellent

look on him, if he does say so himself.

He 'd done what society wanted ' and needed ' of him, once.

It had worked out terribly.

//

Fuyumi loves her older brother, but she doesn 't really understand him.

She loves him because he 's the best and he 's always been so nice to her. He plays with her when their mom can 't, and he helps her with her homework and he always gets it right, and he always is so patient and makes time for her. When she skins her knee or trips and bangs her toe he 's always the one to calm her down and put cute band-aids on her injuries. When she has trouble with something, Touya-nii is always the first person she comes to. It never occurs to her that this is a bit odd, when she theoretically has two able and living parents.

But sometimes she just doesn 't really get him. He always seems so much older and more mature than the other kids, and he says weird things sometimes. But he 's still really nice, so Fuyumi doesn 't really mind. He doesn 't stare down at her coldly and silently like their father, and he doesn 't fret anxiously like their mother.

He 's also really cool, too. The

coolest.

Everyone says so. All the kids at their elementary school and even the teachers. He 's the best at everything he tries, even if he 's only done it once. He 's so good with his quirk now that he can make entire theatrical shows with his flames, little dancing actors and props and curtains and everything. He 'd be the best student in the school if he didn 't sleep through his classes and never do his homework.

Touya-nii is always surrounded by 'a gaggle of groupies ' as he calls them, even when they walk home together from school.

' ' and the banana kick was

sooo

sick, Shiro didn 't even see it! ' One boy is enthusing, as he dogs Touya-nii 's steps.

Touya-nii just cracks his neck with a bored expression, hands shoved into the pocket of his hoodie.

'Todoroki is the best player in the school, ' another boy gushes. 'We 'd win the whole tournament if he was on the team! '

'Pass, ' Touya-nii cuts in, starting to sound a little annoyed. 'Anyway, didn 't you guys just miss your turn? '

'Awh, but we wanted to hang out with you, Todoroki! '

'Yeah, let 's go to the arcade! '

'I don 't really feel like it, ' Touya-nii returns, blandly. 'Anyway, I want to walk my sister home. '

Fuyumi blushes as all the boys suddenly turn to look at her. She cowers under the attention, hiding behind Touya-nii. The group of kids grumble, but eventually take off in the direction of the mall. Touya-nii gives a long, exasperated sigh once they 're gone, looking pretty tired.

They walk a couple more blocks in silence, Fuyumi fiddling anxiously with one of the charms clasped to her backpack straps. It 's a little Hello Kitty that Touya-nii won her at the arcade; Fuyumi probably should have scolded him because he 'd up and left in the middle of school to go to the arcade when he got it, and that 's probably what Mom and Dad would have done, but she was too happy and excited to get a present that she didn 't say anything. Mom gets her something for her birthday every year, which is nice, and so does Dad, even if he 's missed the last three of her birthday celebrations.

But there 's something different when Touya-nii gives her these little things ' toys he wins at the arcade (because of course he 's good at every game, even the crane ones), little trinkets from accessory stores, candy and treats from bakeries ' something so thoughtlessly kind it seems more meaningful than the perfunctory gifts her parents get her. Last year she got a new dress from her mom, and a scarf from her dad. Fuyumi liked the dress well enough, and the scarf was pretty, she guesses, even though she doesn 't need one because she never really gets cold because of her quirk. But she supposes it 's the thought that 's supposed to count.

'Sorry you have to walk me home, ' Fuyumi says at last, looking down.

'It 's no problem, Yumi-chan, ' Touya-nii disagrees, clasping his hands behind his head. 'I didn 't really want to go with them anyway. '

Fuyumi curls her hands into the straps of her backpack. 'Do you ' not like them? '

Touya-nii gives a noncommittal shrug. 'They 're alright, I guess. Kind of annoying though. '

Fuyumi doesn 't say anything, a frown tugging at her lips.

She doesn 't want to ask, but sometimes, she really does wonder ' 'Hey, Touya-nii, ' she bites her lip.

'Hmm? '

'Do you ' not like it here? ' She asks quietly.

With me,

she doesn 't add.

With us.

Touya doesn 't reply for a moment. 'School, you mean? '

It 's Fuyumi 's turn to give a noncommittal shrug. Sure, school. But really, she 'd sort of meant ' everything. Touya doesn 't really seem to like

anything

. Not school, not the kids that flock to him whenever he goes, not even their parents.

He raises his hands up over his head in a stretch. 'Ahhhh, well, ' he says. 'I don 't hate it. I just don 't like it at all and I think it 's terrible. '

'Oh, ' Fuyumi says, in a small voice.

Touya-nii is constantly surrounded by people fawning all over him; people who think he looks cool, who like that he 's the best at everything, who want to be his friend and hang out with him and stuff. In comparison, Fuyumi is a bit shy and withdrawn, and doesn 't make friends as easily, but she still has a few people in her grade she 's really close with. She never feels lonely. But Touya-nii has a crowd of people wherever he goes, and always seems the loneliest of them all. Existing in his own bubble removed from everyone else, even as he walks side by side with them.

She wonders if she 'll one day be able to take his hand and remind him that he 's not alone. That he has her and Natsuo and even baby Shouto. But the distance between nine year-old Touya-nii and eight year-old Fuyumi seems insurmountable, that intangible, intractable wall that separates them as impenetrable as it 's always been.

Even when Fuyumi is close enough to reach out and grab his sleeve, it feels like he 's a million miles away. Like he 's something unobtainable, something to be observed and adored from a distance.

Maybe one day she 'll be able to close the distance.

//

Enji has never understood his eldest son. Even from the moment the child took his first breath and his unfocused infant eyes blinked out into the world, it felt like he was looking at something otherworldly.

He chalked that up to the bewildering reality of babies. He knew they were necessary to surpass All Might, but the reality of them was a bit more than just an idealistic combination of quirks.

Even as a baby, Touya was odd. He didn 't cry or fuss much, which always confused Rei. Apparently babies were meant to be much louder than Touya. He was born a bit premature, making him smaller than usual. Enji worried about this ' the behavior, the developmental issues, the difficulties he had meeting the physical benchmarks for normal infants. It made it terribly unlikely this infant would be the one to carry on Enji 's will, let alone become a Hero at all.

As Enji expected, Touya 's quirk came in and had him almost immediately shuttled off to the hospital. The fire was too hot for his body to handle ' a body that was more suited towards an ice quirk. It frustrated Enji, as Fuyumi had shown an ice quirk and little Natsuo, judging purely by his coloring, was likely to manifest one as well. Touya was still his best chance at beating All Might, so he continued to train the boy.

But training Touya was ' difficult.

He was incredibly willful for a six year-old. He didn 't do anything he didn 't want to, up to and including following any of Enji or his mother 's orders. No amount of discipline would change his behavior. No matter what Enji said or did, Touya had passed judgment on him long ago and found him lacking as both a father and a mentor. He spent most of their training sessions ignoring his father in favor of his own methods, and only every once in a while deigning to listen to an explanation on fire quirks when it suited his purposes. Enji never had to teach him anything, from letters to mathematics to physical training techniques to hand-to-hand combat. Touya just seemed to know it all already; or perhaps just learned it when Enji wasn 't paying attention to him, which was indeed a great deal of time. He had a total disregard for authority of any kind, up to and including his parents, the local police, his teachers and any tutors unfortunate enough to cross his path. Enji was at wits end with the boy.

In short, disregarding his genius intellect and mastery of martial arts, he was an awful successor.

The year Touya turned nine was the year Shouto was born with chimerism splitting his little baby tuft of hair white and red, and Enji breathed a deep sigh of relief. Shouto would be the one. Shouto would be the perfect Hero.

A small part of him felt disgust with how easily he had given up on training Touya. Enji had never been one to just give up on anything, no matter how difficult or dangerous the path. But the rest of him was, frankly, relieved.

Ever since that day his six year-old son locked eyes with him and sent a shiver of fear down his spine that not even the most hardened of villains had ever managed to get out of him, Enji had known, deep down, that his relationship with his eldest son would likely be irreparable. Touya had stared up at him with so much disgust and detestation that day, more than Enji thinks he 's ever seen from anyone. He found himself caving to the boy 's indomitable will, letting him walk out of training early without a single protest.

But it was alright. He 'd do better with Shouto. Shouto would be perfect; obedient and hard-working without any of Touya 's willful stubbornness. He 'd take a stronger stance in the boy 's life starting right at his birth, leaving no room for anything to go wrong as he had with Touya. Perhaps Rei had just been too lenient and doting on their eldest, resulting in the boy 's obstinate personality.

Shouto would be the one to succeed him, and he 'd never have to look Touya 's way again.

//

Natsuo has always thought Touya-nii was the best person in the whole world, cooler than All Might and all the heroes on the billboard and definitely their father.

Touya-nii is the only one in the house who stands up to their father when he 's being mean, and he 's the one who makes all their lunches when mom 's not feeling well, and helps Natsuo and Yumi-nee with their homework, and signs their permission slips when they 're too scared to ask their parents, and plays with them when they 're bored.

The only thing Natsuo wishes Touya-nii would do more is just ' be around.

He 's always getting into arguments with Endeavor about his truancy, which never really go anywhere but sometimes shake the house in their intensity, and sometimes kaa-chan asks quietly if Touya would please make an effort at school and Touya-nii will brush her off. Since neither of their parents seem to be able to stop Touya from always leaving whenever he wants, Natsuo doubts he and Yumi-nee would be able to either.

It 's okay, though. Touya-nii is still super nice and awesome when he

is

around, even though it 's not very often anymore, even if his parents quietly start to subtly pull him and his sister away from their older brother. They say he 's a bad influence. That he 's a delinquent who does whatever he wants and is going to be a lot of trouble when he grows up. Natsuo

loves

everything about him, even if it makes his mother quietly fret over her eldest and worry he 's on a dangerous path. He thinks all of Touya-nii 's ear piercings are neat, and that all his clothes are badass (not that he 's supposed to know what that word means, but maybe Touya-nii is a

little

bit of ' a bad influence.) And sometimes, when their mother is locked away in her room and their father is away and Touya-nii is back for a shower or a change of clothes, he 'll crawl onto his bed and ask Touya-nii to play him something on his guitar.

But for as much as he loves Touya-nii, he knows there 's just ' something different to him.

He talks funny, like adults do, and he 's crazy smart and never hangs out with people his own age. He doesn 't

need

their parents, not in the way kids need the authoritative adult figure in their lives to help them with the things they don 't know how to handle. Touya-nii knows how to handle everything, and he doesn 't need any adult to explain things to him. That 's probably why he never really comes home.

Natsuo is walking home alone from his elementary school that day, Fuyumi staying behind to work on some group project with her friends. It 's not a very far walk, and he 's not a baby anymore, he doesn 't need his big sister to hold his hand.

He says this, but he 's still frightened within an inch of his life when an adult all but barrels into him on the middle of the sidewalk.

'Thief! ' Someone cries from up the road. 'That man stole my purse! '

Natsuo gasps from his spot on the ground, whipping his head back around to the man who knocked him over. When he turns the man is staggering to his feet and looking like he 's about to start running again. Natsuo looks around frantically, but all that greets him is a street lined with wide-eyed onlookers. Where are the heroes? Why isn 't anyone trying to stop him?

'Hey kid, get outta my way '

urk!! '

Natsuo scampers to his feet, whirling back just in time to see someone 's foot collide with the man 's face in a roundhouse kick.

Natsuo gapes in shock when he sees who the kicker is. It 's Touya-nii, his hands in the pockets of his baggy sweats, a konbini-store plastic bag around his wrist, an unimpressed expression on his face, unruly white hair flattened underneath a backwards baseball cap.

'Oh! Nacchan, is that you? ' Touya-nii says with delight, utterly ignoring the protesting man beneath his foot. Actually, he just presses the heel of his shoe harder into the guys cheek.

'Um, ' Natsuo says.

The lady who lost her purse races up to them and profusely thanks Touya for his help, and Touya keeps the petty thief immobilized until the police come. In the chaos of the arrest Touya winks at him and drags him far away from the crowds before any of the policemen can protest.

'T ' Touya-nii! Is this really okay? '

'It 's fine, it 's fine, what are they gonna do, arrest me? ' For some reason, Touya-nii laughs a lot at his own joke.

'I guess not ' ' Natsuo trails off, unconvinced. He looks up at his older brother; he 's gotten taller again.

Taller and more filled out. It makes Natsuo wonder ' where does he go when he 's not home? Their father never bothered much with any of his 'failure ' children after Shouto was born anyway, but these days even their mother is a shadow of herself. Natsuo barely sees her since she 's almost always in her room, with only Fuyumi occasionally dropping by with food for her to confirm she 's still alive. Because of this, Touya-nii doesn 't seem to even bother with pretense of caring about what they think. Natsuo hasn 't seen him in weeks, he thinks. Not since New Years, when he snuck him and Yumi out to the shrine while their father was away.

But Touya-nii looks good, Natsuo thinks. He 's got a hoodie on with his middle-school gakuran thrown atop it, and trendy sneakers Natuso thinks he 's seen in one of Yumi 's magazines. He thinks he 's got a new piercing too, or at least a new cuff, shiny on his left ear. He looks

exactly

like the kind of middle schooler who would stop a robbery with both hands in his pockets.

'How are ya, Nacchan? You coming back from school? Hey, you hungry? There 's this new family restaurant with really good curry rice ' that 's still your favorite, right? '

He asks all of these in rapid-fire sequence, causing Natsuo to flounder for an answer. 'Um, yeah, ' is all he ends up saying.

So Touya-nii leads them down a few suspect alleyways, where suspicious-looking grown men give them a suspiciously wide berth, and into a charmingly cluttered little restaurant where an old obaa-san fusses over Touya 's apparent lack of weight. This looks exactly like the part of town their father tells them to stay away from, but Touya seems perfectly at home in it. Natsuo cleans his entire plate; he can 't remember the last time he 'd had curry rice. It 's the sort of meal that 's not healthy enough to pass their father 's stringent standards for Shouto 's diet, so it 's banned from the house.

Afterwards Touya-nii drags him to a candy store ostensibly for Natsuo 's sake, but he exits with two giant bags more than Natsuo did.

'You seem like you 're okay, ' Touya-nii says then, as if he 's coming to some kind of conclusion, lollipop hanging out of his mouth. 'The old man isn 't giving you any trouble, is he? '

'No, I 'm okay. ' Natsuo shakes his head. Their old man would have to pay attention to him to 'give him trouble '.

Natsuo stares down at his own bag of candy ' small enough to stay hidden in his backpack, not that he thinks his father 's going to care enough to snoop around his room or something ' little eight year-old face scrunched up in concern.

'What about you, Touya-nii? ' He asks quietly. 'Are you okay? You can come back home, you know. Dad 's never home anyway. '

Touya-nii tosses his head back and chuckles. 'Thanks for the offer, but I 'm fine. ' He grins. 'Life has been immeasurably better since I 've been forced to stop taking it so seriously. '

Natsuo blinks. He doesn 't really get it, but Touya-nii seems happy enough.

'Share some of that with Yumi-chan, okay? I don 't want her to think I forgot about her. '

//

But good things never last, and his idyllic life as local delinquent and disruptor of sleepy suburbia and lead singer of a punk band called Band Aides end with a bang. Literally.

Having given up on his absent and unruly eldest, Endeavor had turned his energies to his last and youngest child, who manifested the perfect quirk he 'd been aiming for at the tender age of four.

Gojo had no idea, because he 'd spent the entirety of Shouto 's fourth year trying his damndest to put the entire police precinct into an early grave by dismantling an entire criminal drug trafficking ring and causing public unrest street racing with the local biker gangs, and hadn't been back home once. He stops petty crimes when they happen in front of him just because he can, and never uses his quirk or leaves any incriminating evidence of his identity, which drives the local cops crazy. Leading them on goose chases is more entertaining than intimidating the yakuza for the fifth time, or relearning English phrases he 'd learned a lifetime ago at school. He probably gets a bit too into it, honestly, and decides to cool it when an ace detective from another precinct starts getting involved.

He hasn 't been home aside from periodic drop-by 's for clothes or a shower when no one 's home in at least a year. The thought is almost enough to give him pause.

His mother, Rei, tends to remind him too much of his previous mother, in a way that 's vaguely upsetting enough to the point he 'd rather avoid her than deal with his emotions. A tired woman resigned to her duty, accepting her lot in life with a quiet rationality that some might call graceful, but he just thinks is fatalistic. His thoughts on Endeavor don 't even bear mentioning.

But Natsuo and Fuyumi '. He doesn 't

dislike

them. But they 're just kids to him. It 's fun to roughhouse with Natsuo and kick a ball around with him and do all the other youthful activities he 'd never been able to do before, trapped in a life as the sole heir of a family dynasty, weighed down by legacy and obligations. And Fuyumi is nice. She 's sweet and kind-hearted and it 's fun to mess with her, especially now that she 's getting to an age where needling her about boys gets a flustered response. He keeps an eye out for them, but he doesn 't worry about them much either, since Endeavor has never paid them anything more than a passing glance.

The youngest, Shouto, Gojo barely even remembers.

He doesn 't know what he was expecting when he came home that day, knowing full well his father was home.

His Six Eyes don 't sense anyone else; it 's the middle of the day, so that 's not unusual for Fuyumi or Natsuo, neither of whom have taken to truancy quite like he has. But it still registers to him as slightly unusual, since Rei is usually in the house. When he expands his senses further, he doesn't even feel her at the konbini she sometimes frequents, or even further in the small shopping center near their house. This seems very odd to him, as he has never, in his entire thirteen years in this life, known his mother to stray much farther than that.

Endeavor 's presence is bright like a glare in his vision, but it 's in the dojo clear across the house from his bedroom so he almost dismisses it until he realizes the man isn 't alone. There 's a smaller presence, somewhat familiar but still difficult to pinpoint.

It 's not until he gets close enough to use his actual vision that he realizes what 's going on.

It 's not Endeavor training with one of his lousy sidekicks like he does on occasion, but Endeavor mercilessly dragging a limp and rather unresponsive Shouto by one arm across the floor. By Shouto 's feet is a small pool of vomit, likely from the boy himself, and his limbs are covered in burns and bruises.

A couple things become clear to him in that moment:

That Shouto 's quirk has finally manifested while he was away, and it seems to be some kind of hybrid of Rei 's ice and Endeavor 's fire.

That the propensity for human cruelty doesn 't exist in a vacuum.

And that the Hero Industry is not just hypocritical and perpetuating a dangerously misleading stereotype at best and criminally negligent at worst,

but an actual system that actively encourages pervasive and systematic evil.

This is about the point where he lights the entire dojo on fire.

//

'You 're a worthless, disgusting piece of trash that someone should have euthanized before letting you have children. You don 't even deserve the title of human, let alone father, ' he says, amidst the smoldering ruins.

Shouto is tucked underneath his arm, confined with him inside Infinity, the safest place to be when the surface temperature of the ground around them is nearing the temperature of lava. The only reason their father hasn 't been incinerated like the rest of the surrounding area is his own propensity for high temperatures. That 's not to say he won 't suffer from the second and third degree burns Gojo 's blue flames have inflicted on him. But Gojo 's not intending to kill him. That 'd be giving the man an easy way out.

'I find it almost as disgusting as the society that lets you get away with the behavior ' even encourages it, ' he continues, idly.

The thing is, he doesn 't hate Endeavor. In a way, he pities him. He 's so trapped in a system that belittles the weak and glorifies the strong, a system where he can 't see a way forward that doesn 't involve greater strength, greater power. A system that would see Todoroki Touya and Todoroki Shouto and Todoroki Fuyumi and Todoroki Natsuo and Todoroki Rei as unfortunate but necessary collateral damage. That would turn a blind eye to a man that physically, emotionally, and verbally abuses his family and then turn around and call him a hero of the people.

'I don 't even know if you ever had any good intentions when you decided to become a Hero, or if this collective obsession with being the strongest has always driven you, but either way it 's disappointing, from the Number Two Hero. It really makes me wonder if even the Number One is drenched in this rot. '

All Might doesn 't seem the sort, honestly. A symptom of the problem, rather than one of its roots.

There 's a deafening

crack

as a nearby pine tree buckles under the pressure and snaps in two. It doesn 't catch fire, Gojo 's indomitable control over himself and his own flames too strong for the excruciating temperatures to reach beyond his set radius, but it is enough to alert the returning Fuyumi and Natsuo. The dojo had been utterly incinerated; standing one moment, turned to ash the next. It didn 't stand a chance.

As for Endeavor ' well, he 's still alive. Gojo had waltzed up to him and socked him right in the mouth before he could even react, but other than that he hasn 't technically touched the man. But to be able to withstand these temperatures without burning alive is a questionable enterprise, even for someone as predisposed for them as Enji.

Gojo sighs, shaking his head. 'You 're a real disgrace, you know that? I 'm ashamed I have to share blood with someone so weak he has to push his ambitions onto his kids because he can 't find a way to do it on his own. How many lives are you going to ruin with your own personal failures, until you 're just better off dead? '

The crumpled form of his father doesn 't respond.

There 's a shriek from the main house as Fuyumi wrenches the shoji screen wide open and collapses to her knees on the engawa from shock. Natsuo is at her heels, so pale he looks like he 's about to pass out.

'Don 't ever think about laying a hand on him again, or it won 't just be your dojo I burn down around your ears, but your

life, '

Gojo promises, as he disappears in a plume of scorching sapphire flames.

//

He teleports to the hospital, startling a nearby nurse, and drops the still unresponsive Shouto at the front of the emergency room. Then he teleports to a nearby rooftop haunt of his and chain smokes until morning.

He never goes back.