Chapter Text
It’s a total surprise when he realizes it. Takes him aback and he blinks a few times as the sudden realization blasts to the forefront of his mind obliterating all other thoughts.
Somehow, in the last few months of this war, it happened.
He can pinpoint the exact moment that sent everything snowballing to this conclusion, but that’s hindsight for you.
Kaminari Denki.
It starts with him.
Enji is wandering the halls of one of the temporary refugee housing buildings. It’s late, far later than anyone should be up, especially himself given the twelve hour patrol he’d just come off of, but he can’t sleep.
What should have been a relaxing walk turns into him curiously following the sound of someone hissing in pain.
He finds Shouto’s classmate, the one with the electricity quirk -- Kaminari Denki, curled up in a dark corner, hunched over a sizzling gaming console, shaking his hand out.
“What are you doing here?” Enji says, rounding the corner and peering down at the blond teen.
“Oh, ack, uh,” Kaminari croaks, scrambling nervously up from the ground and blinking in alarm at seeing Enji looming over him in the dark hallway. The game console clatters to the ground, the sound bouncing off the walls. Wincing, Kaminari drops down and picks it up with a shaky hand.
Enji silently waits for the kid to get himself under control.
“Um, sorry, Endeavor, sir. I...uh, couldn’t sleep,” Kaminari finally gets out, looking guilty.
Raising an eyebrow, Enji crosses his arms over his chest and glances down at the smoking console in Kaminari’s hand. “And that?”
“Er, it’s...well, it was my Switch, but I uh, fried it, accidentally...again,” Kaminari sighs, shoulders drooping.
The kid looks exhausted. Enji recalls him from the Sports Festival and frowns at the disparate images. That kid was wild and charged with energy. This kid has seen too much for someone his age.
“Kaminari, correct? Hero name: Chargebolt?”
Stammering, Kaminari nods his head rapidly, “Uh, yes, er, sir.”
“I’ll walk you back to the dorms. You should try to get some sleep before roll call tomorrow,” Enji says, keeping his voice low and calm.
Kaminari swallows and nods. He follows along behind Enji out the temporary housing unit and across the latest gravel street on UA campus to the dorms.
On the way inside, Kaminari drops his Switch into a nearby tech bin for the Support Technicians to dismantle for any usable parts towards the war effort.
“Thanks for walking me back, sir,” Kaminari says quietly, then stuffs his hands into his pockets and walks through the dorm doors, shoulders hunched.
Enji clenches his jaw and stares at the broken Switch sitting on the pile of other tossed away electronics. He doesn’t know what possesses him, but he pulls it from the bin and brings it with him to his Agency building outside of U.A.
The support technician he finds in the lab of Endeavor Agency glances at the fried Switch and shrugs. “Yeah, it’ll take me about an hour to fix this, why?”
“If you have time to do it, I’d appreciate it,” Enji says instead, ignoring the question. He notes the pile of ESD gloves stuffed in a box in the corner of the lab.
The tech drops the fixed Switch on his desk, along with a pair of ESD gloves Enji requested, a little before lunch. “It was an easy fix. Kind of a nice break from tinkering with support tech,” the man says.
“Hm, thank you. If you’re feeling overwhelmed in the lab --”
The tech shakes his head and shrugs. “Nah, it’s just nice seeing new problems and actually being able to fix ‘em, you know?”
Enji does know.
He packages up the Switch and the ESD gloves and delivers them to Aizawa to pass along to Kaminari. Aizawa says nothing, just raises an eyebrow at the box Enji hands over.
It’s a day later when Enji sees Kaminari Denki sitting under a tree outside the dorms with a few of his classmates. He’s grinning from ear to ear wearing those gloves and showing off something on his Switch.
Three nights later Enji finds himself wandering the halls of another temporary housing unit, unable to sleep once more and cursing his insomnia.
He catches a flash of bright light down the hall and when he reaches the corner he’s met with Kaminari Denki waiting for him. “Ah ha! I knew I’d find you eventually, sir.”
“You know where I live, Kaminari,” Enji replies blandly, watching the blond shove himself up from the floor.
“Well, yeah, but uh, that’s awkward,” Kaminari says as if this very moment isn’t awkward as well.
“What are you doing here?” Enji questions, already turning and motioning for the teen to follow him back to his dorm.
Kaminari kicks a random pebble down the gravel street and shrugs. “Couldn’t sleep. Figured you weren’t either, so…”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Enji shakes his head. “Go to bed, Kaminari.”
“I will, but um...thanks, you know, for fixing my Switch and for the gloves. You’re not as bad as everyone is saying --” Kaminari stops and winces, hearing his own words.
Enji sighs. “Go to sleep,” he repeats.
Kaminari nods and starts heading into the dorm, but at the last minute he spins around on his heel and gives Enji a thumbs up. “Thanks, Number One!”
Enji thought that would be the end of it all, but then Kaminari keeps randomly showing up in the middle of hallways at three in the morning and Enji keeps accompanies him back to the dorms. At least the kid is looking less tired.
And for some reason dealing with the teen at three in the morning is exhausting enough that Enji is able to go back to bed after their encounters and get a couple of hours sleep before his next meeting or patrol calls him out.
So, Kaminari Denki is the start of it all, but he isn’t the only one.
The next one, oddly enough, is Bakugou Katsuki.
Enji is familiar with the sting of overusing your quirk. He knows the signs of quirk-induced damage -- especially quirks related to fire. And he knows the signs of someone trying to hide the pain.
Bakugou Katsuki is as explosive as his quirk, but when it comes to pain, he is quiet and grits his teeth.
It’s what Enji does, too. Not only do he and Bakugou share similar quirks, but they also share similar personalities.
There is absolutely no situation in which Enji would not see the pain Bakugou is attempting to hide after a rough patrol with some of Endeavor’s sidekicks.
The blond might be able to keep it from his seniors, but he can’t keep it from Enji.
Pointing it out to Bakugou would be a disaster though. Enji knows this from his own past. He hated having his injuries called out, which is why he’s grown so used to taking care of them himself or just pushing down the pain until he could get to Medical.
That might be the one big difference between him and Bakugou. Enji has the experience under his belt and the wisdom that follows to know when to seek help and get medical attention.
Bakugou is young and inexperienced and stubborn as hell. He’ll get medical help only when he’s dragged kicking and screaming or unconscious to it.
Enji waits until the rest of the sidekicks have left the locker room before he approaches his former intern. The war has been hard on these kids and seeing them out on the front lines at such a young age is painful.
Seeing them trying to keep up with sidekicks and bottle their pain is even worse.
He enters the locker room just as Bakugou is attempting to pull his UA uniform jacket on. Tossing a jar at the blond, Enji gestures for him to sit down on the bench.
“Hah?” Bakugou grunts, catching the jar out of the air easily. He winces when it collides with his sore palm.
“I figured as much,” Enji says in reply. He gestures again for Bakugou to sit down. “Sit, show me your hands.”
“Tch, they’re fine. It’s winter, it takes more to hit the level I need,” Bakugou growls low. He doesn’t try to leave though, which is good, because Enji really doesn’t feel like carrying a gremlin down three flights of stairs to Medical.
He stares at the teen, saying nothing, until Bakugou sits down on the bench with a huff.
Bakugou glares up at him, but eventually holds out his hands, palms up. They’re red and cracked -- too dry both from overuse of Bakugou’s quirk and the winter air outside.
Sitting down on the bench, Enji uncaps the jar of balm and dips his finger. He rubs it into Bakugou’s open palms, ignoring how the teen tries to pull away. It’s useless. Enji is far stronger.
“Use this once in the morning and once at night. If the pain gets worse, tell me,” Enji states, screwing the cap back on and handing the balm to Bakugou.
The blond’s face scrunches up and he snarls. “The hell should I tell you? I’m fine. I don’t--”
“You’re not and you do. Don’t let your pride ruin your future as a hero, Bakugou. I’ve been there before. Getting help is not a weakness, especially when it comes to your health.”
Bakugou flounders for a moment and then snaps his mouth shut. He frowns, looking off to the side while he considers Enji’s words and then nods stiffly. “Fine, I’ll tell you,” he mutters, shoving the jar into his backpack before slinging it over his shoulder.
“Good. I’ll take you back to UA,” Enji says.
Four days later Enji looks up to see Bakugou stomping his way into his office. Enji left his door open, so he supposes it was an invitation. He watches the teen cross the room to stand in front of Enji’s desk, hands stuffed deep into his pockets, jaw clenched tightly.
Raising an eyebrow, Enji waits patiently for Bakugou to speak.
“The balm...it worked. So, thanks.” Bakugou’s eyebrow twitches and then he turns around and marches out of Enji’s office almost as quickly as he came in.
Enji manages to find the supplier of the balm in a small shop that has somehow survived the destruction around it during this war. He buys three jars and leaves them in Bakugou’s locker.
The next time Bakugou has a minor injury he comes straight to Enji. It’s a sore wrist. Enji’s seen his fair share of broken and sprained wrists. This one is minor in comparison, but enough that it could cause issues down the line.
He wraps the teen’s wrist, using the moment to teach Bakugou how to recognize the signs of a fracture and then accompanies him down to Medical for a quick check up. The doctor on duty reassures them both it’s fine, just needs rest and some ice with light duty for 24 hours.
As they’re leaving Medical, Bakugou’s shoulders go a little looser. “Thanks, old man,” he mutters.
Enji waves off the thanks, but the blond goes on.
“I fucking hate doctors,” he bites out. “Explosion quirk as a kid? They test the hell out of your limits.”
Ah, so it wasn’t entirely about pride. Enji understands where Bakugou is coming from. He was a kid with a fire quirk and a powerful one at that.
“The offer still stands,” Enji says. “If you’re hurt, you can tell me.”
“Tch, yeah, fine.”
After Bakugou’s admission, Enji would see him occasionally, though not often, after a patrol. Sometimes it was small injuries -- cuts or scrapes that needed a flush and swab -- other times it would necessitate a walk down to Medical.
Every time he comes by, Enji teaches him something about basic first aid. Bakugou never thanks him again, but Enji doesn’t want it anyway. He’s the former Number One hero trying to keep people alive and stop this war. He’s trying to be a decent leader, too. And that means taking care of his men -- even if they are too young to be in the middle of all of this chaos.
Surely Kaminari and Bakugou are outliers.
But they aren’t. Not for long.
Two days after his talk with Bakugou, Enji passes by one of the training facilities on UA’s campus and pauses.
A few of Shouto’s classmates are inside working through various equipment. The equipment has seen better days. With the influx of heroes, sidekicks, and civilians living on campus now, everyone has access to almost everything.
Wear and tear is increasing at a rapid pace.
And it isn’t like UA staff can place orders for new machines. The delivery system collapsed almost as quickly as the rest of society after the HPSC fell.
He wanders into the facility, keeping an eye on the kid with the multiple arms. If he remembers correctly his name is Shoji. He’s currently using one of the cable machines, but this one is only outfitted with two cables. It’s an obvious limitation given how many arms Shoji can manifest at one time.
Not to mention the wear on the cable machine is clearly visible.
“Hi, Endeavor, sir. Did you need the training facility?”
Enji glances over to see a bright red haired boy waving to him. This is the kid with the hardening quirk: Red Riot. Kirishima Eijiro. Fat Gum speaks highly of his former intern all the time. He’s been key in helping keep the streets on Fat Gum’s new patrol routes calm and clear of villains.
The citizens seem to like him as well.
Shaking his head, Enji gestures to the weight bench the teen just left behind. There’s a giant tear in the padding and the set itself is missing a few weights. “Is all of the equipment like this?”
Kirishima glances over and shrugs. “Nah, just this facility. It’s the only one we can use right now, but it’s okay.”
It is not okay.
These kids are out on the streets just as much as the sidekicks and heroes currently staying at UA. They deserve the best equipment possible, which is going to be difficult given the whole war situation.
Enji frowns and Kirishima shifts nervously.
“Um, are you okay, Endeavor, uh, sir?”
“Fine. How many of you train in this gym?”
Kirishima perks up and smiles brightly. “All of 1A er, 2A, sorry. We used to use the gym on the northside of campus, but the heroes are stationed over there since they converted the classrooms into apartments. It’s closer for them, so we’re here now.”
“I see,” Enji replies and then motions for Kirishima to return to his workout. The red head nods and then pauses, eyeing Enji for a moment.
“Um…”
Enji can tell he’s dying to ask a question. What, he has no idea. Might as well get this over with. “What is it?”
“Er, well, if I wanted to put on muscle like you...what do I need to do? I started looking into it before all of this, but um…,” Kirishima trails off, looking downcast.
“You should speak with a nutritionist and a trainer,” Enji says at first. Kirishima’s demeanor remains a bit downcast, but the kid nods in understanding. Why does Enji feel like he just kicked a puppy?
Crossing his arms over his chest, Enji glances past Kirishima, trying hard not to see the look on the kid’s face. “I’ll send you some materials you can read through. Along with my own daily routine.”
Enji is pretty sure staring into the sun would be less bright than Kirishima at this moment.
“Oh, wow, thank you, Endeavor, sir. That would be amazing!” Kirishima thanks him three more times before he finally runs back over to the weight bench.
By the time Enji gets to his office the next day, he’s already made a decision. First, he manages to pull together the information for Kirishima. Then he makes a few calls to some of his sidekicks and Fat Gum’s agency.
When the sun disappears behind the horizon, and after a grueling six hour patrol sans breaks, Enji finally gets back to UA. He wanders past the training facility 2A uses and hears raucous laughter and lots of talking.
He hangs back as much as possible in the dark and finds an angle where he can peer into the facility unnoticed.
The 2A students are all inside checking out their new equipment.
It isn’t brand new. Most of it is from a defunct gym floor at the Endeavor Agency. A few pieces were donated by Fat Gum as well.
There’s a cable machine with eight different cables for quirk users with multiple arms or appendages. And a very gently used top-of-the-line weight bench with firm padding and all of its weights. One wall is lined in high end treadmills and other miscellaneous gym equipment.
Enji will need to call his sidekicks and Fat Gum to thank them for their help moving things onto campus after their rotations this afternoon.
He turns to head back out into campus and make his way to his temporary housing when Kirishima comes racing towards him, breathless and grinning widely.
“Endeavor, sir --” he puffs, eyes bright in the dim streetlights. He points back at the gym he just came tearing out of and then points at Enji. “Your sidekicks dropped all this off today. They said you asked them to…”
Leave it to Enji’s sidekicks to get chatty with Kirishima. Granted, it’s hard not to speak to the kid.
Shrugging, Enji turns to leave again, but Kirishima leaps in front of him.
“Thank you, sir,” he says with a bow.
It’s not something the kid should even remotely be thanking him for. He clears his throat and brushes aside the thanks, then suddenly remembers he still has the information packet he put together for Kirishima. “No thanks are necessary. You’re fighting just as hard as everyone else. You deserve the best equipment possible for your continued training. Here,” he says, pulling the packet from his briefcase and handing it over. “Read up on this. If you have questions, you can ask me.”
Kirishima’s eyes go round with excitement. He gently takes the information packet from Enji and grins, toothy and wide. “Denki was right. Wow, thanks, sir!”
Denki was right about what?
Enji probably should have realized what was happening right then and there.
He did not.
So, when Ashido comes to him one random afternoon, looking sad and despondent, Enji is completely caught off guard. He’s never even spoken to this kid before, but here she is waltzing up to him in one of the makeshift open air cafeterias on campus.
No one ever comes up to him -- well, aside from Hawks who is apparently immune to Enji’s personality flaws.
The pink-skinned girl drops into the empty chair beside him and Enji glances sideways at her, setting his chopsticks down.
“May I help you, Ashido?”
She perks up the moment he addresses her. “Oh, man, Denki was totally right! You know all of us by name, don’t you?”
Enji is completely confused. “What?”
Ashido waves off his confusion, plowing forward with her original reason for sitting down next to him. “I was wondering if maybe you could help me, Endeavor, uh, sir?”
“Help you with what?”
“Well, I’ve been trying to get more involved in the war effort, but I’m stalling out in my training. I don’t really have many hero connections anymore...and Kiri said you helped point him in the right direction for his own training so…”
She’s looking down at her hands which are currently digging into the bright leggings covering her thighs.
This is Enji’s only day off for probably the next three weeks at least. Here he was telling Bakugou to take care of himself while completely ignoring his own advice.
Apparently working 24/7 for four weeks straight is bad for your health. Recovery Girl demanded he take a full day off -- no hero work, no training, no thinking about the war at all.
Ashido shifts beside him, the picture of frustration. If Enji is remembering correctly, she previously interned under Yoroi Musha who retired at the start of the war. Well, it explains her coming to another hero with these questions. Doesn’t quite explain why she chose Enji though.
He doesn’t have the most inviting presence (and he likes it that way).
Well, this isn’t technically work. He isn’t fighting villains or tracking down Deku in the streets for hours on end. He’s just lending an open ear, that’s all.
“Your quirk is Acid, correct?”
Ashido bounces up in her seat and nods rapidly. “Yes, sir.”
“Tell me about it,” Enji prompts.
The girl explains the properties of her quirk and her various hero moves, as well as the limitations. From what Enji can tell she is able to handle herself in long range and close encounters. She seems quite capable as a hero-in-training.
“So, ya see, I can do a bit, but I feel like it isn’t enough…”
Her words are familiar. He can still hear Burnin’ saying the same thing to him five years ago. Of course, she was growling them in frustration while burning a training dummy to ash, but the sentiment is the same.
The thought gives him an idea. Burnin’ has taken on a lot of responsibility since becoming a sidekick with his agency. The war has certainly thrown more at her, but she has been complaining that something is missing.
While she doesn’t wield a quirk exactly like Ashido’s, they are similar enough that Ashido would most certainly learn a few things. And taking on a mentee might just help Burnin’ fill that missing spot in her hero work.
He pulls out his phone while Ashido stares at him in curious confusion. A few quick texts with Burnin’ and it’s sorted out.
Enji isn’t the best at parsing emotions from simple text messages, but he is pretty confident Burnin’s ‘HELL YES, BOSS!’ means she is happy to take on a mentorship role with Ashido.
“Alright. You have two options: one you continue to explore your quirk’s abilities on your own, probably get some help from your teachers here on campus. Or, two, you can unofficially intern under Burnin’,” Enji states.
Ashido’s eyes go wide and shiny.
Are these terrible options? Enji really doesn’t want to deal with a crying teenager right now.
She claps her hands together excitedly then and blinks rapidly. “I can work with Burnin’?”
“Yes. She already agreed to it. The intern program is obviously on hold during the war, but you would operate under the same conditions. You’ll patrol with her, train with her, learn from her. She has very similar abilities to your own, so I can see the bene--”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I thought after Musha retired and the war started I’d never get the chance to hit the streets again!” Ashido rambles, latching onto Enji’s arm in her excitement.
Enji blinks down at her, but she just goes on blissfully ignorant to his own confusion.
“Kami and Kiri were definitely right. You’re like...a big growly lion on the outside, but a teddy bear on the inside!”
“Excuse me?”
Ashido hops up from her chair and beams brightly at him. “Thanks so much, Endeavor, sir. I really appreciate it! Enjoy your lunch!” she says before spinning on a heel and racing out of the cafeteria.
She zips past Hawks who is looking entirely too amused.
Enji picks up his chopsticks and resumes his meal in peace, which of course means Hawks takes the opportunity to drop down beside him in the seat Ashido just vacated.
“So, the rumor mill is true,” Hawks says by way of greeting.
“Excuse me?” Enji says for the second time today.
Hawks winks at him, his half regrown wings fluttering against his back. “Rumor has it you’re collecting 2A kids.”
“I am certainly not.”
The blond gives him a skeptical sideways glance and Enji sighs.
“I helped a couple of them with minor things, that’s all. I’m not...collecting children. My own children can barely stand me, I definitely don’t need to add more to the mix.”
Hawks frowns at him then, half-chewing his yakitori and half-glaring at Enji. “Don’t sell yourself short, big guy.”
Enji really needs to keep his family drama away from Hawks. The bird always seems to end up in the middle and he always tries to comfort Enji when Enji knows damn well that the situation is what it is because of his own actions. He doesn’t need Hawks’ pity or misplaced sympathy.
Thankfully, Hawks decides to move on from that and jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “Well, rumors aside, I saw Pinky’s face before she walked in here and then again after. Whatever you did was not ‘minor’.”
Rolling his eyes, Enji ignores Hawks’ insinuation. “She’s interning with Burnin’ as of today, that’s all.”
He hears Hawks mumble an incredulous ‘that’s all’ under his breath, but doesn’t get a chance to comment when the blond stops picking at his yakitori skewer and leans an elbow on the table top, propping his chin on his hand (it’s very reminiscent of their first lunch outing together in Fukuoka).
“Be careful, Endeavor. Your standoffish reputation is at risk. People might really start liking you,” Hawks says.
“I doubt that,” Enji grumbles in response.
Hawks smirks at him. “I’m happy to add more to the Endeavor Fan Club, so long as you remember I’m your Number One Fan, Number One,” he replies.
The way he says it is different. It’s low and smooth and sends a tremor down Enji’s spine and a flush across his cheeks. He covers it with his flames quickly and barks a terse ‘Hawks’ that only serves to make Hawks laugh.
After the irritating blond is called away for some meeting, Enji mulls over his words.
Is he collecting 2A kids?
No. He isn’t. It’s just strange gossip.
Except he’s wrong.
Enji continues ignoring the rumors. He is not oblivious to his own actions.
Then again, he doesn’t even realize he’s helping more 2A students until he’s in the middle of having a high-end oven installed in the 2A dorms for Satou.
The Endeavor Agency cafeteria on the sixth floor has been inactive for the last month. Everyone is too busy on the streets to really need more than two cafeterias in the building. So, what’s the harm in having it sent to 2A for use by a kid who needs to consume sugar to fight?
And then he’d overheard Aoyama complaining that his favorite cheese was no longer in stock at the local grocer. It took all of five minutes for Enji to locate the number to his own source of high quality cheeses and share that with the eccentric teen.
The kid certainly lives up to his hero name. Enji is damned certain he saw actual sparkles around his eyes after their conversation.
He’s not collecting kids. He’s simply ensuring their experience at UA isn’t ruined completely by a war raging on around them.
Nevermind the random late night encounters he is still having with Kaminari when his insomnia gets bad. Or the texts he gets from Kirishima asking about specific exercises or meals. Or the fact that Bakugou is getting far more adept at basic first aid than is normal for a teenager. Or that Burnin’ and Ashido both run across his patrol routes randomly and drag him off to lunch instead of letting him work through it.
The ‘hello’s and polite conversation Shoji and Satou engage in with him in the cafeteria randomly are just kids greeting their elders. Though, come to think of it, there was a freshly baked cake and a block of brie addressed to him one afternoon in his usual spot in the cafeteria.
Anyway, he isn’t collecting kids. People are tired of being cooped up on campus, so of course they are going to gossip.
He goes about his business per usual and steadfastly ignores the whispers.
On one of the colder days of the month, he catches Asui shivering after a campus update (everyone has to attend, so the announcements are done outdoors). Shouto later texts him that she is highly susceptible to the cold. The parka she is wearing is high quality, but it isn’t doing the trick.
A quick dig through some of the support equipment at the Endeavor Agency nets him a new prototype jacket outfitted for heroes with weaknesses to cold temperatures. He ordered a few of them for some of his sidekicks a year ago, but ended up having one extra on hand.
He drives out to his personal tailor after getting Asui’s measurements from her costume designer. His tailor appreciates the business given everything happening in the country and has the jacket altered and back to Enji in a day.
“What is this, sir?” Asui asks when Enji hands over the box the following morning before she heads to class.
“It’s a prototype from I-Island. A few of my sidekicks have been using them. I’d like your input as well,” Enji replies.
She takes the box from him and opens it. Her eyes widen when she sees the sleek jacket inside.
“The button on the inside sleeve will activate a heat field. If there are any weaknesses in it, please let me know so I may pass it along to I-Island,” Enji states, professional and stern.
Nodding, Asui slips the jacket on after removing her puffy parka. It fits like a second skin over her uniform jacket. She immediately relaxes under the warmth. “Thank you, sir. I’ll test it thoroughly and get back to you with my feedback.”
“It isn’t time sensitive.”
She peers up at him, mulling something over, then nods and thanks him again before he motions for her to get to class.
He thinks that’s the end of it, except he gets a text from Shouto later on with a picture attached.
‘Tsu likes it a lot. She sends her thanks.’ The picture is of Asui outside enjoying lunch with Shouto and a few of their friends.
Enji assumes she rarely gets to eat outside in the cooler temperatures. Well, at least she’ll stay warm.
Plus he was able to support a local business via his tailor.
And I-Island will get useful feedback. That's important.
Shouto ends up sending him more images after that, which is very, very odd. His son hardly ever texts him. Usually it’s Enji trying to get a response from him for days on end.
Something’s changed though. Now, Enji will text him to check up on him, trying his best to give his son space even when they are on the same campus. Shouto will reply off and on and sometimes he’ll initiate the conversation with a picture from the dorms.
After the picture of Asui and her friends, Shouto sends a picture of Koda with his new rabbit hutch.
(Enji may have saved a pet supply store from being looted by a few villains and he was not allowed to leave until the owner gave him something.)
Thankfully, he overheard Aizawa grumbling about losing sleep after Koda’s rabbit got scared one day and bolted while Koda was helping out in one of the food kitchens. The kid apparently was beside himself with worry and discovered that the normal latch on his old, weathered rabbit hutch had snapped in two. Aizawa found the rabbit, but the hutch was still broken.
The only way Enji was going to get the owner of this shop off his arm was to cave in to her request, so it made sense to have her send a brand new rabbit hutch to 2A.
The text underneath the picture from Shouto states that ‘Yuwai-chan is almost as happy as Koda. They send their thanks’.
Enji doesn’t even try to deny the hutch was delivered because of something he did. His son isn’t an idiot. He’d put two and two together, especially since the media discovered his presence before he could leave and hounded him with questions.
He’s all over every news channel. Society has fallen, but the media has certainly endured.
Switching off the television in his quarters, he leans back on his couch and sighs deeply. His phone pings again.
This time it is a text from Ashido with a picture of her and Burnin’ after a patrol. Burnin’ looks happier than Enji’s seen her in months. The kid seems to be flourishing, too.
‘We kicked butt today!’ the next text says. Enji sends back a thumbs up, mostly because it’s what Natsuo and Shouto do and seems like the appropriate response. He might just be getting this text messaging thing down.
There’s a knock on his door and Enji stares at it for a moment before setting his phone down and walking over to open it.
“Yo, big guy. Saw the news, figured you’d be brooding. I brought beer and food!” Hawks chirps, sliding under Enji’s arm straight into the living area.
Enji sighs, shaking his head, but doesn’t toss the blond out. He brought food and Enji hasn’t eaten dinner yet.
His phone pings again from where he left it by the couch. Hawks’ wings twitch and he glances over at it.
“Did I interrupt?”
“No, it’s probably Shouto or…”
“Or one of your new kids?”
Glaring, Enji motions for Hawks to drop the food containers on the small dining table while he walks into the connected kitchen to grab a couple of plates. “They aren’t my kids, Hawks.”
“Sure they aren’t, big guy,” Hawks says with a casual wave. He shrugs off his jean jacket and drops into a chair, shuffling the food containers around and opening everything up.
Enji joins him at the table and takes his own seat. The food smells amazing. It looks like curry and pork cutlets and honestly, it’s not something Enji eats every day, but today was long and tiring. He deserves a little comfort food once in a while.
His phone pings again.
Hawks smirks at him. “You’re Mr. Popular tonight,” he says, pointing his chopsticks at Enji’s face.
“Eat your dinner,” Enji responds, ignoring his taunts.
Another ping from his phone a few minutes later and he starts to get up, but Hawks detaches a feather instead and scoops his phone off the couch, flying it over.
“Which one is ‘Kaminari’?” Hawks asks, handing the phone over.
“Electricity quirk, blond, loud...sort of like you,” Enji replies, snatching his phone away and setting it to the side.
Hawks hums in annoyance. “Don’t lump me in with your kiddos, Endeavor,” he says. It almost looks like he is pouting behind his beer.
“Hawks.”
“Yeah, yeah, not your kids. Seriously, you don’t see it, do you?” Hawks says, peering at him curiously.
“There’s nothing to see. I’m doing what anyone else would do if a kid came to them needing help. That’s all.”
Hawks balks, mouth hanging open. “What anyone…,” he’s cut off when both his and Enji’s phone’s go off at the same time.
Their conversation will have to wait until later. They’ve got a lead on Deku and Enji isn’t about to let the kid charge headfirst into danger alone this time.
The entire 2A class refuses to sit this out. Aizawa somehow pulls strings with Nedzu and a slew of parents, so every single student is included on any future ops to bring Deku back to U.A. after he left All Might’s side two weeks ago.
Bakugou is the one who finds him first.
Enji thinks it’s fitting given their strange relationship. According to Shouto they have a history as well.
In any case, Bakugou finds Midoriya. The entire class brings him in. He’s unconscious, covered in dried blood and cuts and muck. There are bandages wrapped around the worst of the wounds -- most likely thanks to Bakugou.
Midoriya looks tinier than Enji remembers.
It takes two days and multiple quirk healing visits from Recovery Girl before Midoriya is even allowed visitors.
Enji, Hawks, and Best Jeanist meet up with All Might outside of the kid’s hospital room. The decision is unanimous.
Midoriya, as expected, doesn’t like it.
“You can’t ground me. I can’t stay here--”
“Midoriya, my boy, you were half dead when Bakugou and your friends brought you back,” All Might says softly. He’s aged at least ten years since the day Midoriya went off grid.
“I’m okay, All Might. You don’t have to wo--”
“The decision has been made. You’re to remain here while the foreign heroes try to retake lost ground. We need to regroup, Midoriya. You need to heal and rest,” Enji cuts in.
Midoriya frowns, eyes going distant for a moment. Enji assumes he is speaking with the vestiges. Whatever they say must be enough, because when his eyes refocus, Midoriya simply slumps into his hospital bed and nods. “Yes, sir.”
They post guards outside of his door and ensure that someone is with him every hour of the day -- even if it is simply his mother.
By the third day, one of the guards tells Enji that Midoriya is going stir crazy.
The kid only interned with him for a short time before the war broke out, but Enji picked up on quite a bit about Midoriya. First, he is incredibly intelligent and observant. He also loves writing down anything and everything he can about individual quirks.
He’s a walking encyclopedia of hero knowledge, too.
Enji drops by the empty Todoroki estate one afternoon and finds his way into a storage space. Tucked in a dusty box far in the back of the room he finds exactly what he was looking for.
“A-are these?” Midoriya gapes, scarred hands brushing lightly over a stack of texts in his lap.
“Hero Profiles from when I was your age, yes. They’re old, outdated, but you can’t find these --”
“--anymore. They stopped printing them a decade ago! I’ve been trying to get a copy of this for...ever…,” Midoriya says, marvelling at one of the texts in his hands.
Enji can already see his mind at work, gears rotating and hand twitching. He pulls out a fresh notebook and pen and sets them down on the table beside Midoriya’s hospital bed. “I know you’d rather be out there fighting, but you need to take care of yourself. You’re important, Midoriya,” he says quietly.
Midoriya’s brow furrows and he nods. “I know. All For One wants One For All...and I’m the only one who can stop him.”
“That’s not why you are important, Midoriya,” Enji states.
“I-it’s not?”
Shaking his head, Enji drops a large hand to the boy’s shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. “You’re important because people here care about you. You have family and friends who don’t want to see you hurt. You’re important to all of them because you are you. Not because of the power you possess.”
Midoriya’s bottom lip wobbles and he looks down at his hands in his lap, nodding and sniffling at the same time.
“Get some rest, Midoriya. If you need anything, let me know,” Enji says, squeezing the teen’s shoulder one last time in comfort before leaving.
He runs into Shouto and Bakugou in the hallway.
Bakugou glances up at him and nods silently, walking on ahead while Shouto stops in front of Enji.
“Is Midoriya alright?” Shouto asks, glancing up at Enji with his usual blank expression.
“He will be. He needs rest...and his friends, I think,” Enji replies.
Shouto nods. “We’ll keep him company.”
After Midoriya’s return there is a lull in Enji’s interactions with the kids from 2A. They are all busy with classwork, training, and rotations through Midoriya’s hospital stay.
Not that Enji is seeking them out. He isn’t.
Enji enjoys the break as much as he can, which is to say not at all. Now that the foreign heroes are in the country, all of the local heroes are on rest and recovery orders. Even Enji.
So, not only is he limited in the amount of work he is permitted to engage in, but he also has very few distractions on campus, which leaves him with entirely too much free time on his hands. And too much time for his mind to wander off and fret about things he has yet to resolve.
That is, until he is aimlessly walking around outside on campus and hears crying somewhere nearby.
He keeps moving, trying to figure out where the sound is coming from when it starts getting closer. Oh. It’s the invisible girl, uh, Hagakure. He almost missed her parka and leggings sitting on a gray and green UA park bench.
He’s standing in the middle of the sidewalk and should probably move. He was looking for a distraction. Dealing with a crying teenage girl is not even remotely in his wheelhouse though.
But Enji isn’t one to complain and he can’t walk away. That is definitely not in his nature.
Sighing, he resigns himself to at least finding out what is wrong. He’s a hero. He’s dealt with many people crying. Granted, it is usually while he is handing them off to a first responder, but surely he can handle one teenage girl crying on a park bench.
It might even be something he can help her with.
He silently prays that it isn’t relationship advice.
“Hagakure?” he tries.
She sniffles again. It comes out stuttered and sharp, alarmed at his presence. “S-sorry, Endeavor, sir,” she says softly, her voice wobbles halfway through.
“Why on earth are you apologizing?”
“I-I don’t k-know,” she cries and then breaks down into another fit of sobbing.
Enji blinks and glances down both ends of the sidewalk. It’s completely empty.
He steps forward and gestures to the bench. “May I?” he asks.
She sobs and her arms move up and down. Enji can’t see her so he guesses she must have been nodding. He takes a seat beside her and digs into his back pocket, pulling out a handkerchief. He holds it out to her and she takes it with a shaky hand.
They sit there for a moment while she gets herself under control, wiping at her eyes and cheeks with the flame embroidered handkerchief.
Her breath stutters again in her chest and she hiccups then sniffles. Enji can’t tell what her facial expression is right now. He can’t even tell if she is attempting to say anything.
Finally she seems to calm down a bit more and sighs deeply. “I’m sorry, Endeavor, sir. I didn’t mean to --”
“Stop apologizing, Hagakure. You’re fine. Are you feeling better?”
She’s silent for a moment and then Enji sees her clothing shift a little. “N-not really, no.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Another sniffle and then a hiccup. “Y-you...are you sure? I know you’re busy…and…”
Enji holds up a hand, stopping her in her tracks. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it. If you want to talk, I’m here to listen,” he says softly.
“I-it’s Ojiro. He got hurt on our last patrol and...and I’m not family, so they won’t let me see him in th-the h-hos-hospit,” she bursts into tears again and collapses on herself, curling into a ball. Or, well, that’s what it looks like.
Enji’s hand hovers awkwardly over her back. She sobs again and he clenches his jaw.
This kid. They’re all just kids.
He places his hand on her back and rubs gently, trying his best to offer some form of comfort. He never really did this with his own children. He can recall maybe twice in the past when Touya or Fuyumi got hurt running around outside. They were just toddlers then.
He’s so absolutely awful at this.
Except Hagakure doesn’t flinch away or sob harder instead she collapses against Enji’s side and cries. He wraps his arm around her shoulder and sits patiently. Enji imagines this is probably what his children would have done had he ever been around for them.
Great, now he’s getting maudlin. He shakes off the depressing thoughts and steels himself for an afternoon of taking care of this kid. He has no idea where her parents are -- if they even opted to stay at UA’s campus during the war -- and there is no one else in the vicinity. So, it really is up to him right now.
He can practically hear Hawks now. ’Adding another kid to the family, Endeavor?’
Once she quiets to a few sniffles and stuttered breaths, she sits back up. “S-sorr--”
“You’re trying to apologize again,” Enji cuts her off. She chuckles and hiccups again. Enji stands up, ignoring the tear stains on the side of his shirt and nods his head down the sidewalk. “Walk with me?”
She does. Enji leads her down the sidewalk and she follows beside him, keeping pace easily with his slowed steps. By the time they reach the fork in the sidewalk, Hagakure isn’t sniffling any longer. Instead of taking the right path down to the dorms, Enji goes left -- straight towards the hospital.
“E-endeavor, sir?” Hagakure asks, voice quiet and too meek.
“Keep up,” is all he says to her. Not that she would have any trouble doing so. Enji is taking his time. It’s really more for her. The walk will help her calm down by the time they reach their destination.
“Where are we going?”
Enji waves his hand in the direction of the hospital that is steadily coming more into focus the closer they get.
Hagakure hiccups and squeaks. “R-really?”
“I can’t guarantee you’ll be allowed to see him, but I’ll speak with his doctor and parents on your behalf,” Enji replies. His hand is suddenly gripped in between two much smaller, delicate, invisible hands.
“Of course. Thank you, Endeavor, sir. I...I really appreciate it,” Hagakure says, dropping his hand and picking up her pace enough that Enji can increase his own.
He shakes his head at her renewed vigor.
It takes another forty minutes for Enji to get an audience with Ojiro’s doctor and both of his parents. The kid apparently took a bad fall after saving a child from a crumbling balcony. He’s got a concussion and a minor sprain, but will make a complete recovery. The doctors are keeping him overnight to monitor his head injury.
Both of his parents agree to Enji’s request to let Hagakure visit. He explained to them that she was on patrol with their son and that they work closely together.
They are overjoyed to meet the student who took care of Ojiro at the scene while they waited for an ambulance.
Hagakure is sitting in the waiting room where Enji left her while he spoke with everyone else. He calls her over and introduces her to Ojiro’s parents. They offer to take her back to his hospital room.
Before she leaves, Hagakure races straight into Enji, wrapping her arms around as much of him as she can in a tight, quick hug. Enji blinks down at her in confusion, but she doesn’t notice. She thanks him profusely and follows after Ojiro’s parents down the hall.
It’s almost dinner time when Enji leaves the hospital. He makes a quick pit stop in the cafeteria downstairs and orders food for Hagakure and the Ojiro family to be delivered to his hospital room. They’ll probably be too busy fretting over the kid to remember to eat.
A day later Enji is sitting under a tree drinking his coffee and reading over a report when Ojiro and Hagakure greet him.
“Thank you, Endeavor, sir, for speaking to my parents and the doctor,” Ojiro says. He’s still got a bandage wrapped around his head and his eyes are bruised. He’s holding Hagakure’s hand.
Thank whatever gods are listening that yesterday had nothing to do with relationship advice.
Enji glances over at Hagakure and thinks perhaps she might be happily staring at Ojiro beside her. He’s guessing simply by the way her body is angled. She could be looking directly at Enji and he’d have no idea.
“There’s no need for thanks. Are you feeling better?” Enji asks, setting down his reports.
Ojiro smiles and gives a slight nod, then winces. “Mostly, I think, just a little bruised still.”
“Good. Take care of yourself,” Enji says.
That should be it, but then Hagakure is digging in her coat pocket and pulls out the flame handkerchief he’d given her yesterday.
“Here, sir, I washed it. Thank you for listening to me. And for helping me. Mina keeps saying how nice you are and I, um, I’m sorry I ever listened to the news. I’m so glad you were there yesterday,” she says in a rush of words that almost blend together.
Enji takes the handkerchief from her and frowns down at it. He really isn’t a nice person and the news is correct. These kids honestly should not be anywhere near him. He doesn’t say this to either of the teens in front of him. Instead he nods once, brusque and then gets up and takes his report.
He leaves the two standing by the park bench and heads back to his living quarters to get changed into his uniform.
There is more than enough on his plate to keep him busy. Even if he’s supposed to be resting, he can still make his presence known on the streets and keep hours in his office.
When he gets back to his quarters he drops the handkerchief on his dresser. It flops open and something bright and pink catches his eye. It’s a post-it note stuck in between the folded material.
You were the only person who stopped to help me. Thank you - Hagakure
He sighs and stares at the ceiling, letting a curl of steam escape his lips. These damn kids.
He is not collecting them. He just keeps crossing paths with them. After all the U.A. campus isn’t that big.
He shoves the thought to the back of his mind and forgets about it.
A week later, Midoriya is finally released from the hospital and after promising All Might, Enji, and his mother that he won’t leave U.A. without a hero escort approved by Enji, he returns to the 2A dorms.
Sometimes early in the morning Enji will see him sitting on a park bench. Sometimes they share a few words and Enji listens while Midoriya rambles on about something in one of the books he gave him.
Sometimes Enji receives text messages from Asui about the jacket. It’s useful feedback -- all of it positive. I-Island will appreciate the insight, once the lines of communication open back up with the island. It’s been on lockdown since the war started.
Sometimes he passes by Ojiro and Hagakure out on the quad. They wave hello and he nods back in greeting. It’s only polite.
And once he ends up with an armful of white, fluffy rabbit. It sort of appears out of nowhere or maybe from the bush Enji was walking past. It doesn’t startle him. His reflexes are too good for that.
Koda comes out from between the bushes and apologizes to him in a voice so soft Enji can barely hear it. He thinks the kid says something about ‘-chan wanted to say hi’, but he might have also said something about the weather. It’s hard to tell. He hands the rabbit over and continues on his walk.
It’s edging into May and the weather is getting warmer, which means Enji starts seeing more and more people outside on his routine patrols through campus.
He’s wandering through the makeshift outdoor entertainment area on the south quad one morning just as the sun is rising. The birds have barely woken up, but Enji couldn’t fall back to sleep after jolting awake at four in the morning. He did as much as he could in his quarters before the walls became too confining and he had to leave.
The war is stalling out and it’s pissing him off. He’s been in a multitude of strategy meetings with foreign heroes and government officials and it’s not doing them any good.
All For One is ten steps ahead of them every time.
And Deku isn’t ready to go back out there yet. He’s just starting to look human again. Enji’s already come incredibly close to lighting three heroes and two government suits on fire for even suggesting using him as bait again.
Hawks laughs every time one of the aforementioned suits flinches when Enji enters the conference room.
Best Jeanist has taken over diplomacy these days.
As Enji traipses through the empty entertainment quad he notes that he is, in fact, not alone.
Sitting at one of the shogi tables is the girl that can create objects from her body fat -- Creati -- Yaoyorozu. His son speaks highly of her skills as a strategist and leader.
She looks absorbed in the board in front of her and also frustrated.
Well, it isn’t any of Enji’s business. He makes his way past the table, but stops when he hears a clatter from her direction.
Glancing over he sees a few of the shogi tiles on the ground and Yaoyorozu is hunched over the board, head dropped into her hands.
He’s walking over before he even realizes he’s committed himself to this interaction. Dropping down to a knee, he quietly picks up the tiles and places them on the board.
Yaoyorozu jerks back in surprise and then stammers in embarrassment. “Oh, oh dear. Endeavor, sir, I apologize. I should have been more careful,” she says, quickly reorganizing the tiles on the board into their customary starting positions.
Enji waves off her apology and gestures at the board in front of her. “It’s difficult to play Shogi alone. Are you attempting to learn a particular strategy?”
“No, I am...trying to understand where I keep going wrong,” she answers, frowning down at the board. She shakes her head, clearing it of whatever thought was plaguing her, and then smiles up at him. “I am alright. I am sure I will figure it out with time.”
He could leave it at that. It’s the perfect opening for him to return to his walk.
Except she is still looking pensive with a crease between her brows.
“You’re not talking about shogi,” Enji prompts. He takes a seat across from her and moves one of the tiles to a new spot on the board.
Yaoyorozu sits up a little taller and shakes her head, then moves her own pawn. “No, I am not,” she says quietly after Enji moves another pawn.
They go back and forth this way in silence for a few more minutes until Yaoyorozu finally speaks up again.
“I am leading a team of students in citizen outreach. We visit some of the areas hit hardest during the war and try to bring back as many civilians as possible to be housed here at UA,” she states. She moves a lance this time.
Enji shifts a rook across the board in an attempt to shift her strategy. She sees through his move and counters it on her next turn.
Yaoyorozu continues speaking. “We encountered a group two weeks ago. My team has been unsuccessful in bringing them back to UA. Three days ago their neighborhood was almost decimated by a villain on a rampage. We provided medical assistance and brought them food, but they still would not come back to UA. I am worried for their safety,” she explains, shifting a rook a few tiles over.
Enji listens, but says nothing. She obviously needs to voice her frustrations first.
“I...am not sure where I am going wrong with them and I do not know how to change their minds.”
She goes quiet, staring down at the shogi board and twisting her hands together as she worries over her next move -- both in the game and with her team.
“You may not be able to change their minds,” Enji states, leaning back in his seat. He crosses his arms over his chest and waits patiently for her to think through her next move. A little nudge may help. “It sounds to me like they are playing chess, while you are playing shogi.”
Yaoyorozu pauses, hand hovering over her bishop. Her face scrunches in thought as she parses his words. “You are suggesting I consider their perspective?”
Enji shrugs. “It could be as simple as that. You are asking them to leave behind their homes, their livelihoods, their sense of safety,” he replies.
She swiftly moves one of her gold generals and Enji frowns down at the board. He isn’t familiar with this strategy.
“I should meet them on their playing field...or board. So, instead of trying to get them to leave their homes,” she counters Enji’s next move swiftly. Enji can only react in one way to defend his King, so he does. It’s too little, too late.
With a brilliant smile on her face, she swoops in and checkmates him. “I should help them stay safe where they are,” Yaoyorozu finishes, glancing up at him with excitement in her eyes.
Enji huffs an incredulous laugh. He hasn’t played shogi in a long time, but he used to be pretty decent. She wiped the board with him. “Sounds like you’ve figured it out,” he says, shaking her hand after her win.
She stands up and bows to him, a show of respect and gratitude. “Thank you, Endeavor, sir. I need to speak with Support to see about communication relays and establishing a citizen’s watch in the neighborhood,” she says quickly. He waves her off and fixes the shogi board.
Before she disappears down the sidewalk she calls out to him with a wave of her hand. “And thank you for the game, sir. I hope we can play again!”
So, Enji ends up playing weekly shogi matches against Yaoyorozu. They mostly play in silent contemplation, but occasionally they discuss strategy and Enji will check in with her on her progress with the neighborhood she was so worried about.
He blatantly ignores Hawks’ pointed looks the next time the bird wanders through the entertainment quad and spots Enji playing against Yaoyorozu.
Of course it only serves to fuel the rumor mill.
Apparently there are running bets on who Enji will ‘adopt’ next. It’s ridiculous.
Enji rolls his eyes when Hawks tells him who the top contenders are. He didn’t ask. He doesn’t care.
He flips through tomorrow’s meeting agenda.
He is not adopting these kids.
Plenty of other adults help them on campus. Enji is certain of that.
“I’m pretty confident it’s gonna be Iida -- the one with the mufflers in his legs. You know, if you were going to choose one to adopt next...just saying...I’d score two meal tickets out of the deal.”
“I am not helping you cheat,” Enji states, ignoring how Hawks sticks his bottom lip out and pouts at him.
“Come on, Endeavor! Two meal tickets. You, me, a free dinner courtesy of Lunch Rush? I hear he grills the best steaks,” Hawks pleads, scooting closer to Enji on the couch and clasping his hands in front of him in some sort of prayer-like gesture that Enji is just going to continue ignoring.
“No. I’m not adding fuel to the fire. It’s gossip.”
Hawks snorts and flops back to his side of the couch. “Hardly gossip when you’ve got more than half the class under your wing,” he mumbles, picking up his phone and messing with it.
Enji gives him a sidelong, unimpressed glance, eyebrow raised.
“What?” Hawks’ nose crinkles as he thinks back to his statement and then he snorts again, this time in laughter. “Oh, wing, bird pun,” he chuckles.
“You’ve been hanging around Jeanist too much,” Enji says.
Hawks yawns in response and waves his hand. “Have not…,” he mutters.
Enji refrains from rolling his eyes at the weak retort. He sets the agenda down and heads into the kitchen to make some tea. It isn’t that late, really. Only a few minutes past ten. He needs to finish reviewing the patrol assignments for next week before going to sleep. The tea should help.
And maybe it’ll keep Hawks awake.
The bird offered to help him finalize the last assignments, hence his presence tonight in Enji’s quarters.
So far all he’s done is poke and needle at Enji. Oh, and try to convince him to adopt Iida so he can score two meal tickets -- why he’d want to take Enji out for dinner with them is beyond his understanding.
He steps out of the kitchen and makes his way back over to the couch only to find said bird fast asleep, curled on his side. One wing is tucked under him, the other draped over his upper arm. They’re still only half grown, but it’s refreshing to see him healing after such terrible injuries.
Injuries inflicted by his own son.
Enji sighs, setting his tea down on the end table beside the couch. He wanders into his bedroom and brings a thick blanket out. Hawks is completely oblivious to his movements around the small living space.
Given Hawks’ quirk, Enji assumed he’d be a very light sleeper, but the blond remains blissfully unaware even when Enji drapes the blanket over him, tucking it around his back and legs to ensure it doesn’t fall off.
He settles back down at his end of the couch and picks up the patrol roster.
Hawks’ words echo in the back of his mind while he reads through a list of sidekicks.
You’ve got more than half the class under your wing.
He doesn’t. And they aren’t.
Well, they weren’t. Not then, anyway.
They might be, quite literally, right now though. But it’s not the same. It doesn’t mean anything.
Hawks is going to be disappointed. Enji should probably tell him before the gossip mill does, because Iida is not the next 2A kid Enji ends up helping.
Helping. Not adopting. Helping.
Anyway, it isn’t Iida.
No. This time it’s Uraraka.
Enji isn’t even sure how it happens at first. Hindsight fills in the holes.
He’s in the main gym on the north side of UA, wrapping up his last rep on the weight bench when he hears cheers and clapping from the sparring mats.
Curiosity is not something he is accustomed to, so he ignores the clamor in favor of grabbing his water bottle and towel and heading towards the locker room to shower.
Hawks intercepts him en route and jerks a thumb over to the sparring mat. “You gotta see this,” he says, nudging Enji along despite Enji’s attempts to go the opposite direction.
“Hawks, I don’t have time--”
“Please, Enji, one second. It’s impressive as hell,” Hawks begs, tugging on Enji’s arm now. They probably look ridiculous. Hawks can’t move Enji without his wings, so he’s just hanging off of Enji’s outstretched arm.
Sighing, Enji gives in and follows behind the bird.
The crowd around the sparring mats step aside as soon as they realize Endeavor is heading over.
If it were in the past, Enji would have assumed it was out of respect. Now, he knows it is out of fear or distaste.
Still, everyone steps aside and Enji has a clear view of the sparring area where he sees Uraraka standing over a sidekick from Ryukyu’s agency. Apparently she dropped him in three seconds with one move.
The sidekick gets up and Uraraka takes her place across from him again. They both bow and then round two starts.
Uraraka drops him in two seconds this time.
Enji recalls Gunhead mentioning her hand-to-hand skill in a past meeting. He suggested she be included on some of the street patrols where looting has been the most rampant.
A bell goes off alerting everyone that class is starting soon and Uraraka frantically apologizes before darting out of the gym and sprinting towards her class, tugging her uniform over her gym apparel.
“She’s gonna go places after this war,” Hawks whistles, holding up a score sheet someone was keeping. Uraraka has 10 wins and 1 loss. The loss was to Gunhead himself.
Enji nods absentmindedly and uses Hawks’ distraction to finally make his way over to the shower.
Uraraka shows up periodically in the gym after that, usually behind Gunhead for various training sessions. Enji notes how quick she is at picking up on new moves. She’s a natural.
Sometimes the gym gets a little too crowded and loud for Enji’s liking (especially during these sparring matches), so he wanders out to the woods behind the gym to a small clearing to work through a few Tai Chi routines.
It’s calming and helps him refocus, especially after strategy meetings with government officials. He teaches all of his sidekicks the basics when they first join the agency. Hopefully that’s been coming in handy these last few months.
One morning he is midway through a kata when he feels as though someone is watching him. It doesn’t feel like a menacing presence (he’d know), so he ignores it. Eventually it goes away.
(If he’d been paying more attention to the noises around him, he’d realize that it disappeared right after the class bell rang. That’s hindsight for you.)
When he is practicing another kata two days later, moving smoothly through the form and flowing straight into the next, he feels eyes on him again. This time he switches footing slightly and shifts enough to see the shadowed outline of someone hiding behind a tree.
It’s Uraraka.
She isn’t aware that Enji has spotted her yet. The class bell rings and she darts away as silently as she came.
It’s a little odd having a ‘hidden’ audience while running through Tai Chi forms. Perhaps she needs to speak to him and is nervous about interrupting?
Three days later he actually stumbles upon Uraraka in a clearing not too far from his normal spot behind the gym.
She is completely lost in thought and absorbed in moving through a couple of Tai Chi moves that Enji was working on just the other day. So that’s what she’s been up to.
He watches her silently from under the shade of a tree. Her moves are smooth for the most part, but the transitions aren’t quite correct. It’s hard to fully understand the katas when you’re taking them in from a distance and don’t have an instructor guiding your form.
Before he can approach her, the bell rings and she snaps up her backpack from the ground and sprints through the bushes towards the classrooms.
The next morning Enji is halfway through Fist Under Elbow when he realizes Uraraka is back, tucked behind a tree behind him.
He lets out a breath and breaks the kata. “Come here, Uraraka,” he calls out to her.
She squeaks behind him and he hears leaves rustling before she walks over and stands in front of him. Her face is bright red and her eyes are downcast, hands twisting in front of her with anxiety.
“We’re moving through the short form, or Yang Style. This is the ‘Beginning’ position,” he says, demonstrating the correct form.
Uraraka gapes at him for a hot second before snapping into action. She moves to stand beside him and copies his pose exactly.
He moves through five more forms, pausing briefly in his own kata to adjust her stance or explain the best breathing technique.
She absorbs his words like a sponge.
Once they hit the thirteenth form, Enji ends his stance and glances down at Uraraka with a raised eyebrow. The girl is fidgeting under his gaze, obviously still embarrassed at having been caught.
“I’m sorry for interrupting,” she says quickly with a deep bow. The bell rings suddenly and she snaps straight, looking over her shoulder in alarm.
Enji sees the conflict in her posture and shakes his head. “I’ll be here tomorrow morning if you want to continue. Same time.”
She turns back to him and beams with a wide smile and bright eyes. “Really, sir?!”
“Yes. I can’t promise I’ll be here every morning, but you’re welcome to join me if you find me here,” Enji replies, glancing away from her openly happy expression.
It’s a lot.
Uraraka nods rapidly, hair bouncing with the motion. The bell rings again and Enji nods in the general direction of her classroom. “Get going,” he says.
She bows again and snatches up her backpack from behind a nearby bush. “Thank you, Endeavor, sir!”
A few days later finds them both in the same clearing working through the Snake Creeps Through the Grass form when Uraraka loses her concentration and falters.
It isn’t any of Enji’s business, but he can’t help the niggling feeling at the back of his mind that this is another one of those instances where a child might need help.
This sixth sense of his is getting out of hand.
“Is there something bothering you?” Enji asks.
Uraraka stands up and brushes the dirt from her pants, glaring at the ground as she mulls something over internally. She finally comes to an internal decision and squares her shoulders, looking back up at Enji. “I’m worried about my friends,” she says quietly.
“Your classmates?” This isn’t exactly what Enji was expecting. He hasn’t heard anything from Shouto...
Nodding, Uraraka stares down at her hands currently fisted at her sides. “Everyone’s so busy these days with the war and classes and training. They’re working incredibly hard, but I think, maybe...it’s too much.”
“Too much?” Enji repeats. He tries to balance student schedules with the help of UA, but the war is demanding. He would rather these kids not be on the field at all.
His opinion was shut down the moment he voiced it. The students hated the idea of being sidelined after having lost so many heroes at the beginning of all of this; the heroes and sidekicks hated the idea because that would put even more work on their own shoulders.
The public’s opinion has been torn right down the middle with half calling for the students to be spared from seeing an active battlefield to the other half screaming that students with stronger quirks should be fast-tracked into hero schools to keep people safe.
“I...no one has said as much...it’s just...I’ve seen so many sidekicks and heroes retire in the past couple of weeks...and then seeing Deku being so run down...I’m just worried about my friends, um, burning out, you know? I’ve been thinking of how to help them...” Uraraka continues, hands twisting together in front of her.
She bites at her bottom lip and then twists on a heel to look up at Enji with large, brown eyes. “Do you think Tai Chi would help them?”
“Yes, it could,” he hedges. Her demeanor shifts from pensive and quiet to bright and animated.
“Would it be okay to bring a few of my friends with me in the mornings?”
He should say no. It’s not like he can guarantee he’ll be available every morning at six. Uraraka stares up at him with hopeful eyes.
“Please, sir?”
Damn it. He’s going to cave isn’t he?
He is.
Which is how Enji finds himself standing in front of all of 2A at 6 in the morning on a Thursday. Every single student is here, dressed in their gym uniform, and ready to learn the basics of Tai Chi. Even Shouto, which is impressive since Enji knows for a fact his son is not a morning person.
He stands in front of them, arms crossed over his chest and glances down at Uraraka beside him. “I thought you said a few of your friends?”
“Well, I mentioned it and then, um, everyone was interested so, you know, here we are!” Uraraka says, beaming up at him with a bright, genuine smile without a trace of worry in her eyes.
So Enji spends the next hour teaching the entire class Tai Chi. He answers questions, keeps an eye on Shouto the whole time to make sure he isn’t overstepping or being too stern in his responses, and by the end of the hour everyone has enough knowledge under their belts to continue on their own in the event he can’t make it to a morning session.
He also might make a trip over to the faculty lounge and speak with Principal Nedzu briefly about decreasing the coursework required for their classes. Nedzu agrees wholeheartedly and says he’ll work with the faculty to make sure that fieldwork counts more predominantly towards final grades.
Hawks drops by four days later. He slides under Enji’s arm to enter the living quarters, ignoring the fact that Enji did not invite him inside. “Heard your ducklings have started daily Tai Chi sessions in the woods. Six a.m. They’re even doing afternoon and evening sessions on the main quad for UA residents to attend. Whole field is packed: civilians, students, heroes, sidekicks. I saw Nedzu out there yesterday after lunch which was highly entertaining,” he tosses over his shoulder before plopping onto the couch in his usual spot.
Shrugging, Enji closes his door and joins Hawks on the couch. He resumes his work on his laptop while Hawks rambles.
“Campus is delighted at the new activity. The docs are really happy about it, too,” the blond says, waving his hand around casually.
“Of course they are. Tai Chi has a lot of health benefits,” Enji replies, deleting a mistyped word and fixing it on the report. He sends it off to the appropriate department and moves to the next report.
Hawks hums and then shifts on the couch to lean against Enji’s arm, peering at the laptop screen. Enji is confident he didn’t move closer to read a report.
He’s proven correct when the blond tilts his head up against Enji’s shoulder to stare at the side of his face. “You taught them Tai Chi, didn’t you?” he asks, voice light and teasing.
“Hawks.”
“You didn’t even flinch when I said ‘your ducklings’. Besides, I know you know Tai Chi. Your sidekicks are way too busy to go training a bunch of kids. Hell, you’re way too busy to do it, too...and somehow…”
“I have a free hour in the mornings.”
“Says the guy who is spending his Sunday night fixing reports for his sidekicks,” Hawks taunts, leaning back from Enji’s arm to poke his bicep.
Enji grabs his finger to keep it still and sends the last report off. He closes the laptop and then glares at Hawks beside him.
“Is there a point to this?”
A wide, shit-eating grin spreads across Hawks’ face. “You know exactly what I’m getting at.”
“I’m choosing to ignore it.”
With a sigh, Hawks concedes. “Fine, fine. Can I have my finger back?”
“Are you going to poke me again?”
“I don’t need my finger to poke you, Endeavor,” Hawks says immediately and then cringes. Enji thinks he might even be blushing. “That came out wrong. Ignore that.”
Shaking his head, Enji releases the blond’s finger and then reaches over to grab a stack of patrol rosters to review. A handful of red feathers whisk into his view and steal the pile away.
“Hawks,” Enji warns, staring pointedly at the stack of papers hovering on the opposite side of the room.
“Nope. No way. You might be leading these Tai Chi sessions, but I’m sure your stress levels are still above the norm,” Hawks replies. He sends his feathers off somewhere in the kitchen and when they return they’re empty.
Enji really doesn’t have time for games. He glares at the bird. “Hawks, I need to finalize those before tomorrow’s meeting.”
“I already did. You need a break. When the hell have you taken time to just...I dunno...breathe and relax?”
“I’m fine,” Enji replies, but Hawks ignores him.
“Watch a crappy movie with me. Just relax for one night, please, Enji,” Hawks pleads and then freezes when he realizes how informal he just got. “Er…”
As if the blond hasn’t already insinuated himself further and further into Enji’s life. He raises a hand to cut Hawks off and shakes his head. “I don’t care if you call me Enji,” he says, hoping that’s the end of the entire discussion.
It is not.
Hawks grins at him and then snatches Enji’s laptop off of the coffee table and slides close to Enji again on the couch. He pops it open and pulls up some site called Netflix and selects a title Enji has never even heard of from a list of suggested films.
If you asked Enji the next day what the movie was about, he wouldn’t even remotely be able to tell you. It was crappy, he knows that much, but Enji was also busy watching Hawks from the corner of his eye to really pay that much attention to it.
It turned out to be a fun evening. The only problem is that Enji doesn’t feel less stressed afterwards. If anything, he’s more stressed. He blames Hawks entirely.
It’s also the bird’s fault when the movie nights become a regular thing.
“It’s a great way to unwind,” Hawks keeps saying.
Enji finds himself tensing up with each of their private interactions. This is uncharted territory. He’s never really had a ‘friend’ before and if he is being honest with himself Hawks acquired that title weeks ago -- probably months ago.
In fact, Hawks is swiftly moving from ‘friend’ to ‘more’.
Enji isn’t sure what to do about that, either.
So, he does what he does best when it comes to his own emotions and strange revelations: he pushes them down and ignores them, focusing on everything else going on around him instead.
It’s like the gossip mill situation with the 2A students: if he ignores it long enough, it’ll just go away.
He hasn’t heard much about ‘adopting’ kids these past few days. Of course, that could be because Hawks is out of town and he’s the one who keeps Enji abreast of the latest rumors.
Regardless, it’s a solid plan.
Except ignoring things only works so long as they don’t make themselves known.
And both the 2A students and Hawks refuse to remain out-of-sight-out-of-mind for long.
Exhibit A: Hawks.
The former number two hero has been out on a reconnaissance mission with Kamui Woods for the past two days. He’s getting into town this evening and asked Enji to pick up something from the cafeteria so they could have dinner together.
Enji’s traitorous mind throws the word ‘date’ around like it’s going out of style.
It is not a date.
It’s a debrief.
And it’s going to be a debrief over Hawks’ favorite meal if Enji can convince Lunch Rush to whip it up for him in the next hour.
Lunch Rush gives him a thumbs up, followed immediately by a weird giggle when he agrees to Enji’s request. It’ll take about forty minutes to get everything in from the refrigerated storage across campus and prepared.
It’s plenty of time. Enji thanks Lunch Rush for going out of his way.
So, now he has forty minutes to kill, which means he has time to sit down and dig through a few overdue emails from overseas heroes inquiring about entering Japan.
He finds an empty seat in the cafeteria and settles in. He’s reading through a message from a hero in Spain when he overhears a couple of citizens whispering loudly a few rows over from him.
They aren’t paying Enji any attention. Mostly because they are pointing at the young man who just entered the cafeteria: purple hair, dark bags under his eyes, Aizawa’s famous capture weapon wrapped loosely around his shoulders.
This must be Shinsou. Enji vaguely remembers him from the Sports Festival during Shouto’s first year. He’s the one with the brainwashing quirk.
And, if the rumors are to be trusted, he’s also been recently moved into the Hero track after being scouted by Aizawa himself.
Enji can’t recall the former underground hero ever taking a student on before. Anyone chosen to train directly under Aizawa must be talented.
These civilians don’t seem to feel the same way though.
“I hear he brainwashed his own parents! Walked them right out of his life!”
“Oh, I heard he tricked Aizawa into training him!”
They aren’t even trying to be subtle. Enji sees the way Shinsou’s shoulders stiffen as their words echo across the cafeteria. The kid remains stoic, but Enji sees through it.
He knows a fake expression when he sees one. He’s seen plenty in his own mirror.
The civilians keep going. Enji feels his blood boiling with each uttered word. The rest of the cafeteria has to be able to hear them as well.
And no one is saying or doing anything.
“Such an evil quirk. Someone said the faculty are still looking for the mole at UA. I bet it’s him,” one woman says, eyeing Shinsou as he moves through the cafeteria line.
Enji refrains from slamming his hand down on the table and pushes up from his seat. The two women stop talking and stare at him, wide-eyed and nervous as he approaches them.
“Is there a problem here?” Enji asks, keeping his voice low so as not to cause a commotion. He doesn’t want to draw any attention to Shinsou. The kid already had to listen to these harpies attack his character. He doesn’t need the entire cafeteria watching him, too.
One of the women waves off Enji’s concern with a well-manicured hand. “Of course not, Endeavor. We’re simply talking about the safety of our campus,” she says, eyes tracking Shinsou’s movements.
Enji positions himself in her direct line of sight and leans down, looming over both of the women. His voice is low and deep and devoid of kindness.
“If you are so concerned with the safety of this campus, perhaps you should be out there on the frontlines fighting as hard as these students.”
They both go pale, mouths dropping in matching expressions. They look like fish out of water.
“T-that’s...r-r-ridiculous,” the other woman stammers. She glares at Enji. He takes their ire in stride. He’s used to it being directed at him these days anyway. “You can’t expect us to go out there and do that. We aren’t suited for it.”
“So you spend your free time sitting here ridiculing children?”
“It’s different! He can control all of our minds! It’s evil! Tell me he isn’t a villain!”
The other woman nods rapidly at her friend’s words.
Enji lets Hellflame ripple across his face and blaze brightly. He drops both hands down onto the table in front of them. “The only evil in this cafeteria right now is sitting directly in front of me.”
“How dare--”
“Stop talking,” Enji bites out. They both go quiet, mouths snapping shut. “If I hear anyone on this campus speaking ill of these students I will gladly escort you back to your homes in whatever ward of Tokyo you crawled out of. Do we have an understanding?” He punctuates his last sentence with a burst of flames.
The women nod their heads frantically. Enji gestures for them to leave and they scurry out of the cafeteria clinging to one another.
He glares around the rest of the cafeteria which has gone eerily silent. Everyone is staring at him. He drops Hellflame and turns on his heel.
Shinsou is no longer in the cafeteria. He glances around and one of the other cafeteria patrons points to a door on the other side of the room. Enji nods his thanks and heads out after the teen.
He can hear the whispers and hushed conversation explode behind him as the cafeteria door swings shut.
Wonderful. If he still had a publicist, they’d probably be losing their minds right now.
He doesn’t care. He won’t stand around and let anyone belittle and attack the students who are working so hard to keep UA safe.
Enji finds Shinsou sitting against a wall in the hallway connecting the cafeteria to an unused conference hall. He didn’t get very far. Or he wasn’t trying to get very far.
The kid looks up, obviously wary, as Enji approaches.
Holding up a hand, he motions for Shinsou to remain seated and joins him on the floor, leaning back against the wall.
“Should I thank you for what you said back there?” Shinsou says quietly, a bitter note in his voice.
“Not at all,” Enji states. He lets out a deep sigh and glares at the wall across from him. “Does this happen often?”
Shinsou shrugs beside him. “Often enough that I’m used to it, for the most part. Never had it happen so brazenly in a space that echoes like that before…”
“It won’t happen again,” Enji replies.
“Yes it will.”
Enji clenches his jaw. He knows that Shinsou is correct. It angers him that the teen voices it so easily, that he’s accepted this as part of his life.
All because his quirk is what it is.
Enji was blessed with a strong quirk and powerful family with a history deeply rooted in heroics. He doesn’t know what it is like to grow up with people looking at him with fear, wondering when he might become a villain.
But he does know what it is like to have people talking about you. Of course, Enji deserves their ridicule and hatred.
Shinsou has done nothing but work hard towards his goal of becoming a hero. He’s just a kid. He doesn’t deserve any of it.
“You’re right. It will,” Enji finally says. He glances at Shinsou beside him. “Which is why you should remain strong. Ignore their taunts. Be the hero you want to be.”
“And if I’m not that strong?”
“You are.”
“You don’t even know me.”
Enji nods in agreement. “I don’t, but I know Aizawa and I know U.A. If you earned a spot in the heroics department, then you are strong. You’re a hero, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
Shinsou sinks further down into his capture weapon, but Enji is tall enough to see his small, hidden smile.
Enji’s phone pings at that moment and he glances down to see a message from Lunch Rush. His meal is ready to be picked up. He pushes himself up from the ground and heads back towards the cafeteria.
“Thanks, Endeavor,” Shinsou says, voice echoing down the hallway.
Tossing a casual wave over his shoulder, Enji goes inside the cafeteria and picks up his dinner.
By the time he gets across campus to Hawks’ living quarters, the blond is coming down the opposite end of the hallway towards him.
“Enji! You’re here!” Hawks greets, sounding surprised.
Enji tilts his head, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You did say you wanted to meet up for dinner when you got back, didn’t you?”
Hawks nods vigorously, blond hair fluffing up with the motion. “Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d actually show up!”
“Hawks,” Enji starts, but Hawks cuts him off.
“No, no, my bad, really. I figured you’d be too busy. This is great! Come on,” Hawks says, grabbing Enji’s wrist and dragging him through his front door.
Enji’s actually never been inside of Hawks’ place. He takes a second to glance around. For some reason he thought the place would be...messier. It’s tidy though and sparsely furnished. Almost like the blond rarely stays here.
Which Enji can understand since the man seems to be showing up more and more often at Enji’s place these days. He practically camps out on his couch most nights.
And that should really tell him something about their relationship, but he isn’t focusing on that right now.
No, right now he is focusing on the fact that Hawks is pulling plates out of the kitchen cabinets and said something that Enji missed.
“Sorry, what?” Enji asks, wandering into the dining area and dropping the containers on the table.
Hawks tuts, but repeats himself. “I said that I can’t believe I was gone for two days and you managed to send the rumor mill up into a frenzy!”
“I...what?”
“A little birdie told me that you chased two harpies out of the cafeteria when they attacked one of your baby chicks,” Hawks explains, setting the plates on the table. He flops into the seat across from Enji and cracks open his beer.
Enji opens his mouth and then shuts it again. His what?
Hawks smirks back at him.
Where is he even supposed to start with that statement?
“Are the bird puns intentional?”
Hawks laughs, open and wide and genuine. His head tilts back and he grabs his chest with one hand in his mirth.
Enji can’t recall ever seeing him laugh like this before. It’s a good look on him.
“Those were definitely intentional,” Hawks answers, wiping at the corner of an eye once he gets his laughing under control. “Seriously though, what did you do?”
Shrugging, Enji reaches over the table and opens up the containers of food. Hawks’ eyes go wide when he sees his favorite meal tucked neatly inside of the boxes, steaming hot and ready to eat.
“They were being rude,” Enji says. He dishes out the chicken onto Hawks’ plate. The blond watches every movement he makes like a...well, like a hawk.
“Mhm…,” Hawks says.
Enji glances up from what he’s doing and sees the blond staring at him instead of the meal.
“What?”
Shaking his head, Hawks takes the plate Enji offers him. “Nothing...you’re just making this really, really hard,” Hawks murmurs, still staring straight at Enji.
Enji frowns at him. “What does that even mean?”
“Mm, you’ll figure it out,” Hawks says cryptically. He snaps up a steaming piece of marinated chicken with his fork and points it at Enji. “Though at the rate you’re going in realizing the truth with your kiddos, it might take some time. It’s okay though,” he pauses and then drops his chin onto the back of his raised hand. “I’m patient.”