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@tastes_like
Mar. 23rd, 2020 09:40 pm[There are days when he just knows he shouldn't have signed with his father's agency after graduation. Days when he knows it was sheer stubbornness, anger, and bitterness driving him to do it, no matter what he told himself. Maybe things had gotten a little better over the years between them, but six years of slow improvement wasn't going to erase the sixteen before them. And being there sometimes just made it worse.
It wasn't the sidekicks, though there was definitely some not-so-hidden resentment in some of them; overall, he'd earned his place in the ranks over the last four years, and the fact that he'd not only worked hard to hone his quirk, but also to develop considerable medical skills to be able to perform triage in the field had earned him the respect of most. And he'd learned to give them their credit, as well, to respect their abilities and to call on them when more than one hero would make things better. He wanted to be a hero to help people, not for the accolades. That includes his fellow heroes. That counts for something, among those who matter. And those who don't weren't worth worrying about.
Even his father had wanted to be a hero for the right reasons, once. Even his father still performed his duty, carrying the weight of number one to the best of his ability, in action if not in word. Maybe that's part of why he's still here. Enji had divorced Rei, had moved out and left the family home to his children, had been living a life of asceticism, throwing himself into his work and refusing to let anyone else into his life, aside from a very few very short-lived relationships that weren't ever actually called that. And as much as Shouto hates him...
It's complicated. And so he stays. Through the good days that remind him of why he's here, saving lives, learning how to control and use his flames almost surgically from Endeavor in unexpected ways, seeing him be gentle with a young girl crying, helping her find her mother. And through the bad days, too, the ones like today where Enji finds the fault in everything he says or does or doesn't say or is. The days where phrases like 'your potential' and 'how I raised you' and 'your future' and 'my power' pepper every conversation they have as well as every conversation Shouto tries to avoid. The days where he feels like that burning resentment within him is stealing all the oxygen out of his chest, and once again he feels like the angry teenager he's tried so hard to leave behind.
Thank god tonight is a bar night, sidekick bonding, the monthly use of whoever's birthday or new baby or hero anniversary to justify a night out on the agency's dime. He could use it, and although he typically doesn't drink much at these things beyond the one or two out of obligation, tonight he's so full of tension, so angry, that he decides screw it. He's twenty-two, he's single, he has no outstanding responsibilities and he's not on call for hero work or for the EMT agency where he volunteers his free time. He's got nothing going on, and for once? He's going to enjoy himself. This time, when Burnin' calls for shots, he's there with the rest of them. He's there with Cannon as they race through a pint together, and by the time they've been there for a couple of hours, he's got a nice buzz going, cheeks faintly flushed, collar unbuttoned and long sleeves cuffed to the elbow revealing intricate swirls of blue and red down to the wrist, tattoos he so rarely shows and almost never in public. This was a great idea, he thinks, and he's grinning as he lifts a glass of sake to clink against a fellow sidekick's, an attractive man around his own age with long dark hair and a wicked smile. Attractive, but even drunk Shouto's not going to sleep with a co-worker. He's got rules. Some of them might be broken, or bent dramatically, but not that one, even if the man's doing his best to convince Shouto otherwise.
He laughs again, shaking his head, pushing his hair back out of his face with one hand, then slips back through the crowd to the other end of the bar, looking for the bartender to order another round. Most of the others might have already left, save for two or three, but he's not tired, and the night's still young. Maybe he'll find someone else who's still up for something interesting, too, and fuck responsibility and good decisions and expectations for one night.]
It wasn't the sidekicks, though there was definitely some not-so-hidden resentment in some of them; overall, he'd earned his place in the ranks over the last four years, and the fact that he'd not only worked hard to hone his quirk, but also to develop considerable medical skills to be able to perform triage in the field had earned him the respect of most. And he'd learned to give them their credit, as well, to respect their abilities and to call on them when more than one hero would make things better. He wanted to be a hero to help people, not for the accolades. That includes his fellow heroes. That counts for something, among those who matter. And those who don't weren't worth worrying about.
Even his father had wanted to be a hero for the right reasons, once. Even his father still performed his duty, carrying the weight of number one to the best of his ability, in action if not in word. Maybe that's part of why he's still here. Enji had divorced Rei, had moved out and left the family home to his children, had been living a life of asceticism, throwing himself into his work and refusing to let anyone else into his life, aside from a very few very short-lived relationships that weren't ever actually called that. And as much as Shouto hates him...
It's complicated. And so he stays. Through the good days that remind him of why he's here, saving lives, learning how to control and use his flames almost surgically from Endeavor in unexpected ways, seeing him be gentle with a young girl crying, helping her find her mother. And through the bad days, too, the ones like today where Enji finds the fault in everything he says or does or doesn't say or is. The days where phrases like 'your potential' and 'how I raised you' and 'your future' and 'my power' pepper every conversation they have as well as every conversation Shouto tries to avoid. The days where he feels like that burning resentment within him is stealing all the oxygen out of his chest, and once again he feels like the angry teenager he's tried so hard to leave behind.
Thank god tonight is a bar night, sidekick bonding, the monthly use of whoever's birthday or new baby or hero anniversary to justify a night out on the agency's dime. He could use it, and although he typically doesn't drink much at these things beyond the one or two out of obligation, tonight he's so full of tension, so angry, that he decides screw it. He's twenty-two, he's single, he has no outstanding responsibilities and he's not on call for hero work or for the EMT agency where he volunteers his free time. He's got nothing going on, and for once? He's going to enjoy himself. This time, when Burnin' calls for shots, he's there with the rest of them. He's there with Cannon as they race through a pint together, and by the time they've been there for a couple of hours, he's got a nice buzz going, cheeks faintly flushed, collar unbuttoned and long sleeves cuffed to the elbow revealing intricate swirls of blue and red down to the wrist, tattoos he so rarely shows and almost never in public. This was a great idea, he thinks, and he's grinning as he lifts a glass of sake to clink against a fellow sidekick's, an attractive man around his own age with long dark hair and a wicked smile. Attractive, but even drunk Shouto's not going to sleep with a co-worker. He's got rules. Some of them might be broken, or bent dramatically, but not that one, even if the man's doing his best to convince Shouto otherwise.
He laughs again, shaking his head, pushing his hair back out of his face with one hand, then slips back through the crowd to the other end of the bar, looking for the bartender to order another round. Most of the others might have already left, save for two or three, but he's not tired, and the night's still young. Maybe he'll find someone else who's still up for something interesting, too, and fuck responsibility and good decisions and expectations for one night.]
