I Still Cant Get Over The Fact Touya Is Dead Already - Blog Posts

WARNING!

This fic is not suitable for minors. It contains sexual relationships, accidental pregnancy, substance abuse, withdrawal, and addiction. This is a sequel fic.

Chapter 11

No one mourns the wicked

Your belly has grown more to the point where it’s harder to hide. You bought some new maternity work clothes with some stretch to accompany your growing belly. However, if Mister was able to notice a change in your physical appearance, then soon, others will too, and more than just your coworkers, but the public as well.

Mister calls at least once a week to check in and you take the call every time, sometimes even excusing yourself during work hours to sneak away and chat. It’s a simple joy, but reconnecting with him helps you feel more normal. You avoid discussing work or anything serious, but simple chats about prison gossip from his end or keeping him updated on the drama you’re watching with Toshinori makes the whole ordeal seem normal. The reality is though, that the world keeps turning while he’s locked behind bars.

The bell to your gate buzzes, pulling your attention from the drama you’re watching with Toshinori. You check the front camera and see Hawks standing there. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask through the intercom.

“I just came to see how you’re handling everything since the Billboard Chart announcement,” he says.

“Fine, I’ll let you in.”

“Actually, I was wondering if we could go out. There’s something I want to show you.”

You hesitate for a moment. “Okay. Give me a minute.”

You grab your bag and slip on your shoes calling to Toshinori in English, “I’m going out. Should be back in a bit.”

“Who is it?” he asks.

“Just Hawks, no one special.”

He furrows his brow slightly. “Okay, just let me know when you’ll be back for dinner.”

You step out of the house, following the path down to the gate and opening it. Hawks stands there awkwardly. His hands are shoved into his pockets and he’s wearing normal clothes. His jeans are dark, and he wears a black leather jacket over his T-shirt. Despite his attempt to blend in with civilians, he wears a katana strapped to his back.

“What’s that for?” you ask.

“Can never be too safe. I have to make sure I can protect you if we’re out in public,” he says with a smile.

“Seems a bit dramatic.”

“Is it? I thought it looked cool with this outfit.”

You roll your eyes. “Whatever, let’s just go.”

Hawks takes you to his ride, opening the passenger side door for you. It’s an all-black sports car, but you don’t recognize the brand name. He presses some buttons and the car hums as it comes to life.

“When did you get your driver’s license?” you ask.

“Few weeks ago. I figured it would be better than having to rely on Jeanist-san to drive me around. It’s also sexier than driving one of the cars from the Commission, don’t you think?” He smirks.

“A car is a car. I don’t find any sex appeal to them.”

His smile drops and he clears his throat. “Anyway, I want to show you something important.”

“Are you going to tell to me where we are going?”

He hums in thought. “Not yet. It’s a surprise.”

The drive isn’t too long and eventually the car rolls up to a cemetery. You step out of the vehicle, following Hawks to wherever he’s leading you. You walk quietly alongside him, unsure of what to say or how to make conversation. He doesn’t speak either, and it feels like the first time he hasn’t tried to force awkward quips and jokes to be lighthearted, which you’re grateful for.

Eventually he takes you to a plot that’s a bit more secluded than the others. It’s under a cherry blossom tree, the leaves a vibrant green from the end of summer.

“Bubaigawara Jin,” you read the name on the grave.

“I made sure his remains were handled properly since he didn’t have any family to do so,” Hawks says.

“Why?”

“I cleaned up his body to try to prevent Toga Himiko from getting access to his blood, but I guess I also had a lot of guilt. Someone had to do it, and I doubt any of the League of Villains would be going back to retrieve it. I wanted to be sure he at least had a proper burial.”

“So, you did it for yourself?”

“No. I’ve been too much of a coward to come here on my own. But I thought you should see it. I know you’re still mourning him, so you can come here to grieve if you need.”

“Why are you showing me this?”

“I’ve hurt you a lot. I’ve betrayed your trust in many ways. I know this doesn’t make up for any of that, but we should move forward together. You’re my assistant, and the mother of my child. We need to start being a team.”

He’s right, and you know it. You’ve been trying to avoid him for too long in an effort to not confront your conflicting feelings. You bite your lip, staring at the grave in front of you. He doesn’t push for further conversation, letting you take your time to mull his words over. You’ve been too busy fighting your own feelings towards him to even consider simply being a team. Working together professionally is one thing—you can hide behind all of the semantics of business when you’re at work, but co-parenting is another ballgame in its entirety. It requires seeing him regularly outside of work to raise a real living baby together. To be honest, part of you fears the feelings it could stir inside of you. Could you end up liking him again, or even fall in love? Would that be the most utter betrayal to your dead friends—as if carrying his child isn’t enough betrayal already? Standing there now, you’re forced to face those fears head on, when you’ve pushed them to the side for months, replacing them with disdain in order to ignore them.

Grief is weird like that, you suppose. It really isn’t the monster under your bed, it’s the face of the person who stares back at you in the mirror every day—it’s the man standing next to you now.

After a while, you reach into your bag and pull out the ultrasound photo and hand it to him. “It’s a girl, by the way.”

“Wow, a little girl, huh?” he smiles softly, staring at the photo.

“You can see her toes and fingers forming there.” You point. “The doctor says in a few more weeks the webbing between them will fall off and she’ll have fully formed feet and hands. Even fingernails. Isn’t that crazy? Our baby has little fingernails.”

“Our baby,” he repeats. “Yeah, it is crazy.”

“If you want, you can keep that one. I have another at home. I just kept that one in my bag to show the boys whenever I see them next.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s technically her first picture.”

“She looks just like you,” he jokes.

You roll your eyes. “You’re really so not funny.”

“I mean she’s cute just like you.”

“Ha ha. She’s covered in poop and slime and she’s bald. She’s not cute yet. She’s like a little parasite in my body until she’s born.”

“I didn’t know you had such strong feelings about pregnancy.”

“Well, it’s true. A fetus sucks a lot of nutrients from the mother. That’s why mothers have to usually gain weight and eat more and eat lots of healthy foods. Not just for the baby’s health, but the mother’s too.”

“Wow, I never knew that.”

“First time getting someone pregnant?” You give him a little smirk.

“I try not to make a habit of it.” He smirks back.

You snort and chuckle at him.

“I thought I was ‘really so not funny’,” he quips.

“You’re not, but sometimes you say a funny thing.”

He looks over the photo as if it’s a delicate piece of art. “It’s weird. I don’t think my mom ever got an ultrasound when she was pregnant with me. I don’t have any childhood photos.”

“Well, then let’s make sure we take lots of pictures of her.”

“I’m going to take a million, you know? From the moment she’s born.” He laughs. 

“Please don’t turn her into an internet sensation. I’ll really kill you if you become one of those parent bloggers.”

“No, she’ll be just ours. I promise.” His eyes scan over your face. “Come on. I want to show you one more grave.”

He pockets the ultrasound carefully into his jacket before taking you down the path further into the cemetery. You walk quietly, curious about what other grave he wants to show you but allowing the anticipation to build. The path winds and curves slightly over the hills, but Hawks keeps his pace slow next to you. It’s easy to notice how he walks a little bit closer now, almost as if he’s silently trying to say, “I’m right here next to you, in more ways than one.”

Eventually, he brings you to a grave marked for none other than Himiko. An incense stick is lit and there are flowers lying beside the gravestone.

“I don’t understand. I thought Himiko’s parents hated her?” Your voice is quiet as you stare at the large stone.

“Since you announced her act of heroism, Toga Himiko’s parents put this grave up. I think they were ashamed before, but I think having it here means more to other people than them.”

“You mean me?”

“And Uraraka Ochako. You can show her, and maybe that will help her move on from whatever she’s feeling.”

Your eyes follow the trail of smoke as it curls into the air, the gentle breeze whisking it away. “I haven’t even talked to her. To be honest, I heard about it from Todoroki Shouto.”

“Then, this can be a good excuse. I mean, it was kind of my excuse, after all.”

“I knew you had selfish reasons for bringing me here!” You slap him teasingly on his stomach. 

He flexes instinctively and you feel his muscles through his T-shirt.

“Only partially selfish.” He laughs. “You’ve been avoiding talking to me, so I thought if I showed you this place maybe you’d hear me out.”

“It’s not easy, you know. You killed my friend and then went on TV to justify it. You told the whole world that your relationship with me was just to gather information. Then, I find out I’m pregnant with your child. And you pardon me for my villain crimes and hire me as your assistant. It’s so overwhelming. How can I feel grateful for your kindness when you’ve hurt me so much?”

“I’m sorry. For everything. I’m sorry for killing Bubaigawara. I’m sorry for not saying his name when I admitted it in front of the nation. I’m sorry that I said I was just trying to collect information.” His apology is genuine, and you can sense his own pain through his words. “It’s not even entirely true.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was spending lots of time with you to try and collect information, but I also enjoyed being with you. You really were my first kiss, and I don’t regret anything else.”

You can see the honesty in his eyes. The scars on his face seem more prominent, and it ages him slightly. He’s not the same charismatic young hero who was stuck arguing with a security guard at the Paranormal Liberation Front hideout just to get into the cafeteria. The man before you now has stared death in the face more than once, and he’s trying to move forward the same way everyone else keeps urging you to.

“When I confronted him, I told Bubaigawara that I would help him start a new life after he paid for his crimes. He refused to abandon his friends, just like you. That’s why I pardoned you and hired you. So, you could start a new life, and raise our baby happily, whether or not I was actually in your life.”

“Then, why are you trying so hard to actually be in my life?”

“Because… I really care about you. I always have. Besides, I’m not going to be like my father and abandon his child. Like I said, I want us to work as a team.”

“I understand,” you reply.

“There’s one more thing,” he adds. “I supported you with your addition to the expanded Hero Billboard Chart, but it has shaken the public more than what was anticipated. A lot of reports are saying that the people demand an apology from you.”

“That’s crazy, what do I even need to apologize for?”

“It’s not about anything that you did. It’s just a chance to ease the minds of the public.”

“That’s so Japanese style.” You huff.

“Think about it some more. I can help you write the apology too.”

“People will still spread rumors. Even if I apologize, they will still demand that it’s not enough.”

“Perhaps, but it also gives you the chance to face them honestly. Think of it as another step forward,” he says.

You're quiet, thinking the whole thing over. He said he wants to be a team…

“If you want to be there, then I need you there entirely,” you tell him.

“What do you mean?”

“It means actually coparenting. Be here for me for the pregnancy. Be there when the baby is born. And don’t back out and abandon me like you did that day.”

“You have all of me. But you do know that women undergo labor alone, right?”

“What?”

“Typically, the baby’s father isn’t present during delivery. Not in Japan, at least.”

“Well, fuck your cultural customs this one time. You’re asking me to go on national television and issue an apology for—something, I don’t know—to do what is Japanese custom just to ease the minds of the public. After everything you put me through, your ass better be right next to me when I give birth, and you better be holding me hand the whole time.”

He laughs despite your harshness. “Okay, okay. That’s fair. I’ll help you with your apology speech, and I’ll be there to hold your hand when you go into labor.”

You huff again. “Good.”

“Alright. Now, let me get you home. It’s too hot for you to be outside for so long.”

Shouto waits for you outside of Central Hospital. He stands next to Endeavor and a tall woman with white hair who you assume to be his mother. It’s weird seeing Endeavor wearing normal clothes—comfortable ones too. It doesn’t suit him at all. When he sees you, he waves politely for you to come over.

“This is my mom,” he introduces.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Yagi Asuka.” You bow politely as you introduce yourself. It’s still weird for you to say, but you hope it will grow on you more over time.

“It’s good to meet a friend of my sons’. I’ve heard a lot about you from Shouto,” his mom says.

You feel your face heat up slightly and you press your hand to your cheek. “I didn’t know he talked about me.”

“Just good things.” Shouto smiles softly.

“Uh, hi, Endeavor-san,” you greet him awkwardly, forcing yourself to bow politely to him as well.

Endeavor greets you back with the same discomfort. Despite being a man with a fire quirk, his demeanor is cold and stern.

“Are you ready?” Shouto asks.

“No, but to be honest I don’t think I ever will be,” you tell him.

“We won’t have long, so I’ll let you talk to him the whole time.”

“Are you sure? I know it’s important for you and your family to talk to him too.”

“Dad keeps his promise to come every day, but we agreed that it’s important for you to speak with Touya-nii too.”

“Thanks,” you say awkwardly to Endeavor. You turn to Shouto and whisper to him, “Are they going in with us?”

“I thought it would be best for you to go in alone, if you want,” he says. “We’re going to wait outside the room.”

Your heart races at the thought. Endeavor checks in with the front staff and they guide everyone down to where Dabi is being held. Every step feels like you’re walking a mile. You can hear every footstep echoing off of the sterile tile under your feet. It rings in your ears as your heart races with adrenaline. It feels like an hour until you finally get to the secure room where he’s been hidden away from the world.

“A word of warning, he doesn’t look like how you remember him,” Endeavor says.

“I figured—”

“You can’t even imagine it. So just drop all of your expectations.”

You don’t even know if you have any expectations. You’ve tried to prepare yourself for the worst, but you can’t even begin to imagine what the worst could be. Your stomach drops even further in anticipation. The hospital staff presses some code into a screen on a panel outside of the room. When the doors open, you turn to Shouto who gives you a reassuring nod before you step inside.

Seeing Dabi makes you sick to your stomach. He’s stationed upright in some high-tech cylinder. Various tubes run in and out of his body—a machine beeping, keeping him just barely alive. He’s wrapped head to toe in gauze, and the few places where his skin is exposed looks fully charred—if it even is his skin. He’s caged in a metal contraption preventing him from moving or attempting to use his quirk. It seems redundant, considering he’s hardly even alive in this state. Metal rods pierce his scalp and around different points on his face, holding him together like a science experiment. His hair is completely gone, as is the skin around his mouth, exposing his teeth completely. His right arm is entirely gone as well, and you wonder how he managed to sustain that wound—the rest of his body seems explainable.

The guard in the room speaks to you, “He usually wakes up around the same time each day, but you could end up waiting for a while.”

“It’s okay. I’ll wait as long as I need,” you tell him.

He gets you a chair to sit in, which you’re grateful for. You would think that with each passing minute your nerves would calm down, but your heart still beats heavily in your chest. Your mind races as you scramble to figure out what to say. You know that when he wakes up, you’ll have only a few minutes to talk to him. 

What if I freeze and nothing comes out? What if I forget how to speak Japanese? What if only Korean or something comes out? Or worse…what if his condition is so bad he doesn’t even recognize me anymore? I’ve changed so much, what if I’m just a stranger to him now?

You wait in the room for nearly forty minutes until he wakes up. He groans as he regains consciousness, but a chuckle befalls his lips when he notices you.

 “I’m surprised,” he croaks. His voice is hoarse and barely audible.

“Da—Touya…” You manage to swallow the lump in your throat. “I have a lot to tell you.”

“I… Don’t have… time.”

“I’m pregnant.” It seems like that’s the best place to start. 

He wheezes as a soft laugh escapes him. “How?”

“Well, I-I did what you said a-and tried to trust me. I mean, get Hawks to trust me. I tried to get Hawks to trust me. I wanted to trust him too. Back then.”

“You—” The machine tracking his heart rate beats a little faster.

The guard begins to scold you. “Don’t rile him up, or else I’ll have to escort you out.”

“Touya, calm down. It was a while ago. Before the raid on our headquarters.”

It takes a minute, but the machine slows to its regular rhythm, and he mutters, “You… seeing him?”

“Seeing him? You mean meeting with him? Not romantically, if that’s what you’re asking. He gave me a job, but I’ve kept a firm distance with him.” 

At least until today… you think as an afterthought.

“Good… traitor.”

You’re not sure if he’s referring to Hawks, or if he’s calling you a traitor. It makes your heart sink. “I’m sorry. I have to work hard to give my baby a good life. I want to be a good mother.”

“You… will…” His voice trails off.

You continue to fill the space, just trying to talk to him as much as you can. “Did you know, there’s an old belief that being pregnant with a girl will steal the mother’s beauty.” You force an awkward laugh, trying to ease the pain that radiates from your heart throughout the rest of your body.

“Not true.”

His response catches you by surprise. You were expecting him to swear at you or call you an idiot for letting another idiot knock you up, but he doesn’t. He seems genuine, and serious, this response much calmer than his others.

“I don’t know how much I can tell you without causing an emotional response. It’s all kind of crazy.”

He hums softly, indicating that he’s listening.

“All For One kidnapped me and gave me a quirk. So, if you thought I wasn’t quirkless, then you were right.”

“Knew… it.”

“It’s a really crazy story. I’ll have to explain it all later.”

If you can make it that long…

“All Might adopted me, and Hawks gave me a job working for the Public Safety Commission. I know I’m a traitor, but I’m hoping that with money and resources I can try to do something to make a positive change.”

“What… plan?”

“To be honest, I don’t have one yet. But as soon as I figure it out, I’ll come right back here and tell you.”

He hums again, his eyes fluttering as he fights to stay awake.

You continue, “I know we don’t have much time, but please keep fighting for your life. I want you to meet my daughter someday. So please, if there’s any spite left in you, keep living. I want you to see the world I will create. I want you to be there with me!”

You’re unsure if your words even reach his ears as his eyes fall closed once again.

“That’s enough,” the attending guard says. “Let his family know they can come back tomorrow.”

You're quickly ushered out as the hospital staff tend to him. Shouto and his parents are waiting idly outside of the room, just as Shouto said they would be. A sudden wave of exhaustion hits you, and you want to scream about how unfair everything is. You want to break down and bawl—to run back into that room and cry at the helm of Touya’s living coffin and demand answers for why he would do that to himself. 

“Are you okay?” Shouto places his hand on your back, and it snaps you back to the present.

“Huh?”

“How did it go? What did you say to him?”

“I don’t know.”

You’re not lying. It all happened so fast—seeing him was so shocking—it’s like your brain didn’t even register what was happening until it was over. 

And now it’s over.

And you haven’t even had a moment to really calm down and collect your thoughts.

“I warned you,” Endeavor says. “There’s nothing you could’ve done to mentally or emotionally prepare for it. That’s why I face him every day. So, I can truly understand the consequences of my actions.”

The urge to spit on him overwhelms you. You want to curse him out for being such a bastard of a father to drive his son to that madness. You couldn’t imagine it before you were pregnant, but now the feeling really sinks in. Part of you even understands Hawks’s desire to be in the picture and help you raise the baby. Without thinking, you place your hand on your stomach.

However, Shouto notices. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. I want to go home,” you tell him.

Endeavor eyes you. “This must be extremely distressing for you. It’s important for you to rest.”

It’s obvious how he chooses his words that makes part of you wonder if Hawks did eventually tell him about the baby.

“Yeah,” you agree. “It’s been quite emotionally distressing. You know, after being bombarded with news about how great it is that my friends are dead and the heroes who killed them saved the day. Seeing one of the few remaining friends I have left on his deathbed is pretty emotionally exhausting.”

Your words bite, and you can see how they sting Shouto a little. You regret it instantly, but Endeavor looks away. 

“I know it’s hard for you. So, if you ever want to come talk to Touya, it’s okay,” he says.

Endeavor has given up fighting. He’s traded heroics for a false sense of fatherhood, but it’s too late. He knows this. Everyone in the room knows it. Yet, he doesn’t give up trying to right a wrong he should’ve never created in the first place.

“I’m not going to thank you,” you tell him.

“I know. I’m not looking for gratitude. You deserve to see him. I’ll notify the hospital staff as well, so you can come and go freely.”

You nod as Shouto’s hand finally leaves your back.

“Let’s go,” he says.

The walk out of the hospital is even quieter and more awkward than walking through the cemetery with Hawks. Death lingers in each place—one where your friends wait for their passing, and the other where they’re already gone. Home is the only place where you can safely mourn without disturbance. It’s the only place where you are free to really process it all—behind the quiet walls of your bedroom with your door shut, or alone in the shower with steaming hot water to cloud any semblance of tears. In that place, you’re safe to explore the memories of those you love without the lingering eyes or judgement of anyone else.

And that’s what you need—home.

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Chapter 10 ⬅️🐦➡️ Chapter 12

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