Chapter Text
The remnants of a heavy downpour still clung to the earth. Rain mixed with the dirt outside the shoji doors, forming dark, murky puddles that Touya stared into with hollow eyes.
Their father had been especially brutal with Shoto lately. Training ran from sunrise to sunset, back-to-back, paired with a strict, clinical diet no six-year-old child should ever have to endure. For a long time, a twisted part of Touya had wished Enji would just stop targeting Shoto—wished the old man would look back at him instead.
But he knew the bitter truth now. Enji was too blind to see he was systematically breaking his own children. His ambition was a towering, burning wall that blocked out any trace of light. And Shoto? Shoto was simply the "masterpiece" the monster had been hunting for.
The world was too messed up, Touya thought. For years, he hadn't understood why he or his siblings even existed. But looking at the scorched walls of the estate, it was crystal clear: they were born just to fulfill a greedy man's bloated ego.
A soft rustle of fabric broke the silence. Touya’s hardened eyes instantly softened the moment he looked down at his lap.
Shoto stirred in his sleep, his small head resting heavily against Touya’s knees.
Fortunately, Touya had opened his eyes just in time to realize that his siblings loved him for exactly who he was. He didn't have to beg for a father’s affection that was never going to come. It had all changed that day at Sekoto Peak. Somehow, Shoto had followed Touya up that mountain like a lost kitten, dragging him back home before Touya could completely break down and explode. Their father had been furious when they returned, and Shoto’s training had doubled as a direct punishment.
That was when Touya finally saw it. Shoto was the one who had truly noticed him all along. The one thing Touya had always been desperate for—someone to look at him, to anchor him—Shoto had given him without asking. Shoto needed him. And Touya needed to be a shield.
"Touya-nii?" Shoto mumbled, rubbing his eyes with tiny, bruised fists and yawning softly.
How could Touya have ever hated such a soft kid? Truly, love, hate, and obsession were thick clouds capable of hiding the truth from anyone.
"Hm? What’s up, Sho?" Touya asked, his voice deliberately dropping its sharp edges. He always forced himself to be gentle around Shoto. The kid got enough screaming in the dojo.
"Father’s not home yet?" Shoto asked quietly, looking up. His overgrown bangs slipped back, draping across Touya’s lap in a messy splash of white and red.
Close your eyes...
Have no fear...
"No. You’re fine. Close your eyes," Touya murmured, brushing the stray hairs back. His fingers were extra careful, intentionally avoiding the raw, fresh training scrape on the side of the boy's face. "He’s not around today. Maybe not for a week. He’s busy with hero work."
He watched as Shoto’s rigid, tense shoulders finally relaxed against the tatami.
"Really?" Shoto’s mismatched eyes sparked with a sudden, rare light. He sat up quickly, his palms pressing into the mat. "Can I try playing ball with you and Natsu-nii and Yumi then?" A tiny grin broke across his face, his earlier exhaustion completely forgotten at the prospect of a normal childhood afternoon.
Touya let out a faint, slightly wry laugh. "Yeah, yeah. But only after you rest. Your body needs it."
"Promise, Touya-nii?"
"Pinky promise," Touya said, raising his small finger.
He paused when he noticed Shoto’s blank, puzzled expression. Shoto tilted his head, staring at the extended finger like it was a foreign object.
"What’s a pinky promise?" Shoto asked.
Touya’s chest tighted with a sudden, sharp ache. The kid didn't even know what a playground promise was. "It’s... a contract, Sho. A promise meant to be kept forever. It can never be broken."
"Oh!" Shoto beamed, instantly hooking his tiny pinky around Touya’s. "Pinky promise, Touya-nii!" Almost immediately, another heavy yawn caught up to him. "I’m sleepy again. Is it okay?"
"Totally okay. Close your eyes." Touya went back to stroking Shoto’s hair, his palms rough and calloused from the erratic sparks of his own quirk.
The monster's gone, he's on the run and your big brother is here...
Touya secretly wished they could stay locked in this exact moment forever—in the silence, where no one had to listen to desperate screams or smell the acrid scent of burning wood and skin.
He watched Shoto’s small chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm, then looked down at his own scarred hands. The rain had finally stopped outside. The heavy smell of fire had vanished from the air, as if the downpour had washed it all away, taking the grime of the dojo with it so they could finally breathe.
For the first time in a long time, they could just... rest.
"Out on the ocean, sailing away..." Touya hummed under his breath, his eyes drifting out toward the garden. The plants were thriving under a bruised, orange-purple sky as the storm clouds drifted into the distance.
"I can hardly wait for you to come of age..." he whispered, gently patting Shoto’s arm to keep the nightmares away. "But I guess we'll both just have to be patient."
He would make sure of it. Even without their father’s guidance or their mother’s presence, Touya would be the anchor. He would build a place where they could all actually feel safe.
They would take every single step together, holding hands through the dark.
As the peaceful twilight finally deepened into night, Touya carefully scooped Shoto’s small, sleeping frame into his arms. He held him tightly against his chest, moving like a shadow through the quiet, cold hallways of the estate until he reached Shoto's bedroom.
He laid him down gently, pulling the thin blanket securely around his brother's shoulders.
"Good night, Shoto," Touya whispered into the quiet room. "See you in the morning... bright and clear."