Every time he thinks the peak is finally subsiding, it flares again, and molten anger churns in his core, filling him to the brim with a white-hot fury.

Oh, so now he thought he could make passive-aggressive remarks? Is that the game Enji wanted to play?

The fact he had the audacity to address him as if he were Touya, as if Natsuo hadn’t been there the last time their father addressed Touya directly–

A pressured inhale, then an exhale, and his jaw grits together so hard it pops, fingers digging into the polished wood of the table so hard he could imagine it splintering in his grip.

The small mantra of ‘don’t, for Fuyumi’, was drowned out in the rush of blood roaring in his ears, screaming in a decade of unchecked grief.

“Do you think this is funny?” He hisses, thinking about how lucky his father was that he wasn’t close enough to just sock him in the goddamn jaw.

“Do you really think you have any fucking right to start joking around about stuff like that, you stupid motherfucker? Just because you’re “trying”? Just because you finally made the decision to stop slapping a kid around?”

“Natsuo-” Enji had realized his error, but it was already far too late. His son had already begun. Knowing speaking would only further infuriate him. He remained silent, motionless apart from the occasional flaring of his nostrils. There was nothing he could say or do to help this situation, for he was the root cause in the first place.

Breaking eye contact with his son, he walked back over to his desk, and slid the file he collected into a drawer before leaning forward to rest both his hands on the surface.

It doesn’t help, that in the middle of his attempts to push the concern aside, Endeavor’s voice pierces through whatever soothing he had managed to accomplish, like someone lodging an icepick directly into his brain.

Why just his voice alone seemed to grate on him, he wasn’t sure– he KNOWS he’s trying, he KNOWS Fuyumi really believes in this, and maybe it’s his own shitty attitude that’s the problem; but he can’t shake the irritation that starts rising up the back of his throat and squeezing his chest.

So instead he just remains silent, pressing his thumbs against his eyelids to try and keep him from exploding in a flurry of snappy remarks, because he wanted to at least be able to say he could keep a lid on it for one afternoon.

“It looks fine.”

Enji’s only response was silence, eyes moving from the photo in his hands, then back to his son. It was uncomfortable, but he hid it better than Natsuo did.

“Thank you for your input, Touya.” He spoke sternly, placing the photo back onto the bulletin board. “I will speak to your siblings and inform you of the final decision. You are dismissed.” There was a small pause after he spoke that Enji smoothed over by shuffling some papers on his desk.

“Why?” The response came out rather harsh as Enji’s eyes were momentarily taken away from the documents in front of him. Putting his pen down, Enji moved the papers to the side and folded his hands on his desk, giving his daughter his full attention.

@endeavcr​  - hotman (You are here! :D)

@rocklock​ - goodguy

The mention of Touya makes everything tense again, and his skin crawls as scenarios start giving him something new to worry about.

Would Touya even want his memorial moved? Would the butsudan be going, or would a new be erected in the new home? What about his things? What if something broke in the process of moving? Would this violate the peace of his rest?

He forces his jaw to unclench, trying not to grind his teeth to a powder.

“Whatever. Let’s just look at the next house.” He pushes forward the one second close to the school where Fuyumi worked, offering no commentary otherwise.

“I won’t pretend I do not notice, your misgivings, Natsuo.” Enji moved some of the options to the side, bringing a few of them into focus on the board. “Air any concerns now. I will not ask again.” The statement comes out less like a demand, but an awkwardly phrased reassurance. Enji would not pry the matter. Tapping another photo on the board, he looked over to his son,

Enji held the morning’s paper out in front of him as he somewhat groggily stepped through the halls. A sneeze, then a gout of flame, and Enji’s eyes were fixed on the source of the noise.

Seeing his youngest, his shoulders relaxed, and he gave a small sigh, and returned his eyes to the paper. “Just Shoto.”

“If you have such a problem with it, then why’d you even offer it?” Comes the first round of scathing criticism, and his gaze swings low to affix on Enji with all the irritation he could muster.

“You do realize the point of them moving out is so they don’t have to deal with someone breathing down their necks, right? And it’s not like anyone will- or SHOULD know where they’d be moving, which automatically makes it safer than the family home, where we’ve already had one incident.” 

“Not to mention it’s two percent. That’s the likelihood of cow attacks. What, you gonna put a ban on beef, too? Ask them what they want before you start jumping to conclusions. I’ve got a higher chance of getting mugged than that neighborhood has of villain attacks, and I’m fine.”

Sparks of flame jump to life at his son’s response, zipping their way across Enji’s frustrated expression before being extinguished. His brow relaxed, and his shoulders fell. Turning to look at Natsuo, he extended a hand to set on his shoulder, but retracted it. “You’re right, Natsuo.”

Turning back to the board, he took the image of the house in question off its clip, and held it in front of him, staring at the photo with a vacant expression. “I have been making excuses.”

Slate grey narrows, as if examining for a trap of some kind; a wariness worn like a mantle in the family home.

But regardless; he made a promise to Fuyumi to try, and while he was begrudging to admit it, he could at least see an attempt was being made.

And it would be nice for Shouto and Fuyumi to have their own place.

So he steps forward to look at the documents, shuffling through them carefully.

“Did you look at the interiors? I feel like that’ll be a big factor, too.” Most of them seemed reasonably close to U.A, although one seemed a little far from where Fuyumi worked for his taste, so he moves it aside.

”Mimi doesn’t like how that island in the middle of our kitchen takes up so much space. And Shouto has trouble getting comfortable without tatami.” He taps one of the houses.

“This one’s closer to where she works, so I think that’ll be best. Shouto has the dorms, after all, but she has to get to work by 7 am every morning.”

Enji nodded along, listening to Natsuo’s insights. It was strange, to hear so much of his voice, this was probably the most he had spoken to him in some time. Enji listened to his points, but shook his head slightly at Natsuo’s final decision. Not in disagreement, but to voice some negatives about the location.

“Villain attacks are two percent more common in that district, and-” Enji paused, his train of thought coming to a halt then, before he could verbalize where it was going. Awkward silence filled the room for a moment.

[text: father] I don’t need protection from the person I’m seeing! [text: father] I appreciate the concern, but I’m fine, and so are they!

send a symbol for a text!!

@endeavcr​ said: ♭ 👀 ♭ for an angry text

[text: father] My relationship with the man that I am dating isn’t any of your business. If I’m dating a hero or a civilian it’s up to me.

It’s a different kind of pain than the last time he was here.  Less broken bones and more fire in every part of his body.  Which is a bit ironic considering who he can vaguely see through blurry eyes.  There are things in the way, monitors and an iv that despite his panic he doesn’t have the energy to rip out.  Endeavor is just about the last person he’d anticipate waking up too.  Literally anyone else would’ve been his last guess.  His throat hurts, but he thinks he can talk a bit without breaking into a coughing fit that would threaten to split his skull.  His immediate response is to ask about the girl, but he logically knows the answer to that.  If Eri wasn’t safe, none of this would’ve happened.  “The fuck are you doing here?”