Slow Burn - 4 (Endeavor x OC)
WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR CURRENT CANON STORY. TITLE SUBJECT TO CHANGE.
Months have passed since the war. The heroes won, but there's still rebuilding efforts to be completed. And not just buildings and cities.
Maemi Ono is one therapist, among many from her US-based agency, who is chosen to treat Class 2-A (previously Class 1-A) as a group and Dabi, of the former League of Villains, individually. However, with the war still fresh in his head and suspicions high, Endeavor isn't so sure Miss Ono's intentions are entirely as good as they seem.
When Maemi's past rears its head, will it prove Endeavor correct? Or will it pull Maemi further into Endeavor's orbit?
This one runs long, because we see Maemi and Dabi interact, too!
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 (coming soon)
---
Part 4: Jokes
“I don’t know how you manage the same expression and pose every time.” Maemi’s grin spread wide over her lips as she pointed to the photo of she and Endeavor in their most recent ride’s photo booth. There was no hapless employee working, at the moment. UA had already paid for ride photos and they were being instantly uploaded into a cloud for students and chaperones alike.
Endeavor scowled, his arms crossed much the same way they were in the photos. “It’s not the same.”
“Lies!” Miss Ono pulled her phone free of her jean pocket, tapping the screen a few times. Suddenly, the phone was shoved into Endeavor’s face - well, as close as the shorter woman could get it - and a prior ride’s photo registered in his eyes. Maemi pointed animatedly between her phone and the most recent picture displayed on the screen of the kiosk.
He was, admittedly, wearing the same expression and in a very similar pose as the last ride’s photo. It wasn’t exact, however.
“Not the same.” One beefy arm deigned to uncross itself, pointing to the offending difference. “My arms are crossed differently.”
“Ooh, big difference,” snarked Maemi as she brought her phone back to her, looking at the photo. After rolling her eyes, she shoved her phone back into her pocket.
The two walked on in silence after turning away from the photo kiosk. Thankfully, their little entourage of students had finally grown bored of dragging the counselor and the pro-hero from ride to ride.
After a surreptitious look around, Endeavor decided it was safe enough to say the words tumbling about his head. “I should apologize for earlier.”
“For what?” Maemi angled her gaze at him, her eyebrows raised. Though she wasn’t exactly surprised the man had finally acknowledged something to apologize for, she couldn’t say she was expecting it. He was a proud man. Or perhaps a bit dense to social cues. She hadn’t exactly settled on which, yet.
“What happened on the ferris wheel,” he said crisply, not quite meeting her gaze. He’d had time to consider his actions, through the litany of other rides they’d been dragged on. “I didn’t realize how inappropriate my question sounded, at that time.”
“Oh, I see.” A slow smile crept over Maemi’s lips. The look sent a hot-cold sensation down Endeavor’s spine and his honed danger senses suddenly flared to life. He couldn’t understand why until Maemi made a motion toward her chest, her damp shirt clinging to her breasts. “And would you consider staring at my water-drenched chest appropriate? Or are you going to apologize for that, too?”
Endeavor choked, ears burning. Part of him hadn’t been aware he’d done anything of the sort. Another part of him couldn’t hide from the fact his eyes did wander over her body, from time to time.
Maemi chuckled, falling quiet as they passed a group of students. She waited until they were far enough away before responding, though she kept her voice pitched low.
“I appreciate your apology, but it’s okay. Like I’ve said before, I’m a bit more sensitive today.” She gave a careless shrug, before her attention once more slid to the pro-hero. Something prickled along his thoughts as her eyes hooded and that teasing smile broadened once more. “And I don’t fault you for teasing or looking at me. It’s not like I’m innocent in either of those.” Before Endeavor really knew it, Miss Ono had plucked his shirt between her forefinger and thumb. “By the way, white was a poor choice for water rides.”
A flash of warmth once more scorched down his spine as he glanced down, Maemi releasing his shirt. The white shirt he’d chosen was damp, not quite as wet as it had been when exiting the ride. But the fabric was still rather sheer, especially under the light of the sun. He hadn’t even thought of that.
Apparently his expression gave himself away as a crooked grin tilted dangerously at Maemi’s lips. She couldn’t help but enjoy herself at his expense. “If you like, you can borrow my hoodie to preserve your modesty.”
Endeavor’s eyebrows lowered, turning his scowl to the woman. His gaze dropped to the hoodie tied around her waist, trying not to note how wide her hips were. He was only looking at the indicated bit of clothing. “Your hoodie will not fit me.”
“You could wear it around your shoulders.” Her hands went to her own shoulders, fingers splayed as she continued to tease him. “Like a pompous rich pretty boy.”
Pompous? Sure, he’d been called that before. Rich? Obviously, as Japan’s Number 1 Pro-Hero. However, one descriptor made Endeavor’s brain stumble. “Pretty?”
“That’s what you focused on?” Maemi snorted, her hands falling to her sides as she spun on her heel, once more moving aimlessly along the walkway. She wasn’t about to explain herself to his face. His intense stare would get the better of her, turning her into a blushing and babbling mess. Even if it was just from the viewpoint of aesthetics, there was a perceived implication in calling another any level of attractive. Whether that implication was true for her or not wasn’t something to explore right now. “Add vain to the list. A vain and pompous rich pretty boy.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” He followed after her, not really enjoying feeling like he was being led on some invisible leash.
She peered over her shoulder at him, her eyes alight with pure impishness. “And?”
Which, as much as it annoyed him, did it really matter how she saw him? Who cares if she used pretty to identify him? He knew others found him attractive, though it wasn't really spoken about after his abuse and missteps became more public. Endeavour couldn't really say he'd ever been called pretty. And he wasn't sure if he enjoyed it now or not. Though, it wasn't completely unenjoyable, he decided.
Though, it definitely smacked of unprofessional on Miss Ono's part, given the fact she was one of UA’s therapists. For whatever reason, he didn’t really want to address that. Instead, he hedged into another topic that had nagged a bit at his thoughts. “You seemed much different from our first meeting.”
“I was prepared and poised. I didn’t expect you on this trip and - again,” Maemi paused to turn to him once more. Her hands had raised, palms toward herself and fingers wiggling, “I’m marinating in teenage emotions.”
Despite himself, Endeavor cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowing with scrutiny. “How’d you prepare for our first meeting, then?”
“I cleared my schedule before our meeting, so you saw me fresh and bright-eyed.”
He hummed, eyes still narrow and scowl still in place. How she acted when prepared versus unprepared made sense, when considering her Quirk and the environment. The emotional teenager-filled environment. Still, Endeavor couldn't help but make his observation of the woman clear. “You’ve been pretty fresh on this outing, Miss Ono.”
“Oh, you have jokes now. Alert the presses.” To Endeavor’s surprise, Maemi laughed once again. At that moment, he realized her smile wasn’t as placid as it had been back in her office.
If he allowed himself to, he might enjoy her smile and maybe even her laugh.
He shoved the thought to a dark corner as Maemi turned away once again. She mused about getting some food and, without much thought, he gave a non-commital grunt. Once more, he followed Miss Ono through the amusement park, trying not to dwell on feeling like a leashed dog being led down a path.
—
That weekend, Maemi stepped into an all-too-familiar room after being cleared by the friendly guards. There was a sense of bleakness, despite the attempts to make it homey. On the surface, it looked like a studio apartment sans kitchen. A tatami bed mat in the far corner, strewn with magazines and books. Opposite the bed, a sofa and television, equipped with a gaming system, sat. Close to the door, a large table stood sentry, often littered with little projects or remnants of meals prior. Various tables and bookshelves littered the room, filled with reading material or movies or games.
Unseen on first inspection was the fact everything was fire retardant. Even the books and magazines had been molecularly reformed to withstand flames via an ingenious invention created by one Mei Hatsume. Further, the room itself was equipped with a security system that could freeze its inhabitant out, should it be a concern.
On paper, it was the ‘perfect’ place for the notorious villain who currently slumped at the table, arm thrown over the back of his chair.
“So how did little Shoto enjoy the amusement park?” Dabi’s words dripped with snide sarcasm, but Maemi could feel the genuine curiosity beneath the surface of his words. She couldn’t exactly say the man worried for the boy. The threads of concern and care were there, but there were ropes of jealousy and frustration and annoyance, as well. The feelings of the elder Todoroki brother concerning his youngest sibling always sloshed with complexity.
Though, Maemi would like to believe the care and concern were getting stronger in Dabi.
“Well, he didn’t get into any trouble,” she answered, trying to recall if any of the other chaperones had mentioned anything. “I didn’t see him much, but I was buddied up with Endeavor, so Shoto probably avoided me.”
“What?” The flare of amusement almost burned over the flickering jealousy, but Maemi caught the latter. Even as Dabi grinned and leaned forward. “Are you saying Endeavor volunteered to chaperone a field trip? Mr. Important-Number-One-Hero? And you babysat him?”
“Yes, well, his arrival was unexpected.” Maemi chuckled and shook her head, Dabi’s wicked delight contagious. But it was the young man’s blunted jealousy and hurt that spoke more clearly to her. Undoubtedly, the sensation that Endeavor favored Shoto shot through Dabi. “Would you like to see his sullen ride photos?”
Moments later, Dabi and Maemi sat on the same side of the table, hunched over her phone and scrolling through the amusement park photos. The guards on the other side of the viewing window watched with apprehension, but therapist and patient ignored them.
The young man crowed about Endeavor’s indifferent-bordering-on-miserable expression in every photo. Of course, the old man couldn’t even find joy at an amusement park. A cold thread of sadness tangled around Dabi’s gloating joy.
“Is something wrong? You feel a little sad?” From day one, Maemi had made Dabi aware of her powers. It was something she had suggested to the other counselors who worked with the rest of the League of Villains to do, as well. Don’t hide important information from them, and - hopefully - they won’t hide from you.
Dabi didn’t look at Maemi right away. His gaze still stared at her phone, but she doubted he was seeing the picture on the screen. Finally, softer than his brusque tone, he said, “We’d go to amusement parks, sometimes.”
“We?”
“Fuyumi, Natsuo, me, Mom and…” Dabi’s eyebrows lowered, internally struggling between the two names in his head. Hurt flared, his jaw clenched. Maemi watched and waited, until the young man finally shoved up his protective wall and growled, “And Endeavor.”
Maemi gave the young man a moment of quiet, waiting for him to continue on his own. When he didn’t, she decided to prod. “What were those days like?”
“They were…” There was a momentary struggle inside Dabi, as he fought fond nostalgia and bitterness. The former won out as he continued, a softness in his tone, “They were good. At least in the beginning. Mom rode the little rides with us a lot, before we became ‘big kids’ able to ride on our own. Dad was too heavy for most of the little kids’ rides.”
Maemi was careful to school her expression, as she had to whenever Dabi fondly spoke of Endeavor as a father. It was rare and, most times, the young man would stutter or fumble if he realized what he said. This time, Dabi either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
“By the time we were ready for the bigger rides - the rides he could ride - he was too busy.” Dabi rolled his eyes, bitterness and a hint of jealousy tinting his tone. “With work or with training Shoto.”
Maemi hummed with contemplation, wondering if Dabi knew what she was going to ask. Even if he did, she would have to verbally say it. “Did Shoto ever go on these amusement park excursions?”
Dabi fell silent, eyebrows furrowing. He didn’t want to say it. She could feel the beginnings of annoyance in him, as he realized where she was pulling him. “No.”
“Must have been lonely for both of you.” Maemi was careful to not sound accusatory, simply gentle and thoughtful. This was a familiar path and, though Dabi had to be led by the nose, he still required care in her words. “You, missing the closeness of your father. Him, not even experiencing the togetherness of a family outing.”
As usual, Dabi’s expression darkened and his gaze flickered to Maemi, a lightning strike of ire. “I thought this was my session, not Shoto’s.”
Annoyance and frustration, a stubborn anger and hatred, all of the usual heated and negative emotions swirled. But - as it had a habit of appearing more recently - a relenting swam between it all. A softer, grudging, understanding that needed time to grow.
“You’re smart, Dabi.” Maemi lips curled into a pointed smile. She was used to flashes of anger in clients, it rarely upset her. “You know why I said it.”
Even if they’d circled across a familiar conversation, even if the young man knew what Maemi’s point was, he slumped back in his chair. A frown curved at his lips as he crossed his arms. She tried not to smile in amusement - certain Todorokis and crossing their arms - as he leered irritably at her. At least it was a step up from the hatefulness he subjected to her in the earlier months.
“Talking about your family, Natsuo asked to visit again,” Maemi shifted the conversation away from one difficult topic to one hopefully less so. All the Todorokis had been asking to meet with Dabi since his capture. Well, except for Endeavor, which was probably a good move. The higher-ups had wanted to hear about progress with Dabi’s mental state, before allowing any potentially triggering family close.
At the name of his brother, Dabi seemed to perk up, happy to forget the comparisons between Shoto and himself. “Yeah?”
“My superiors say it’s fine, if you’re ready.” Albeit they were grudgingly allowing it as a ‘dry run,’ just in case the visit triggered a relapse in Dabi. Maemi inclined her head to the young man, watching his expression and feeling his emotions carefully. There was a hesitant sort of hope, too afraid to fully blossom should it get crushed. “Are you ready to face your younger brother?”
Dabi’s gaze flickered to the table, where his hands rested. He ran his thumb against the back of his opposite hand’s palm, tracing over the staples and damaged skin. Curiosity, dread, hope, concern, and a cacophony of other emotions churned in him.
Maemi smiled softly at him, keeping her voice soft like she was speaking to a skittish animal. “It’s okay if you’re not ready.”
“I’m not scared.” The words came suddenly from Dabi, his gaze flashing to her features.
“I didn’t say you were,” she reassured him, her smile twitching a little at his insistence. He still seemed to bristle under her attention, so she tried to assuage him. “Talking to your brother for the first time since everything is a big deal. You’re allowed to feel apprehensive and take your time.”
The longer Maemi spoke to him, the more the young man seemed to ease. His gaze flickered to the table, his eyebrows twisting with uncertainty until a furrow formed between them. “I… want to, but…”
He trailed off, leaving the sentence hanging in mid-air. Maemi waited patiently, watching as Dabi’s jaw flexed in thought. A cacophony of emotions pulsed from him. Excitement, fear, worry, hope, delight, anger, sadness. It was all tangled, but not quite as tangled as when their sessions began all those months ago.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to decide now.” Once more, Maemi tried to soothe the emotional agony in Dabi with soft words and an encouraging smile. She placed an envelope on the table, having retrieved it from her bag earlier. “Natsuo also requested I give you this, in case you weren’t sure.”
Dabi stared at the envelope, not reaching out to it as if it’d strike him. “What is it?”
“A letter, letting you know Natsuo’s feelings.” This had been a suggested mode of communication for a long time. All the Todorokis - save Endeavor - had been asked to write a letter months ago. Natsuo finished his before the others, worked with Maemi on polishing it up, and had been chosen as the first to bridge the gaps between the family and Dabi. “He admitted he’s angry over a lot that’s happened, but he just misses having his older brother. Among other topics.”
The young man hadn’t moved from his spot. He continued to stare at the envelope, his lips bunched tight. More apprehension and uncertainty bubbled from him.
“It’s about time for me to go,” Maemi finally told him softly, trying to gently rouse him from his thoughts. She reached for the envelope, ready to slide it back into her bag. “If this is too upsetting, I can take the letter with me.”
Slowly, as if he was forcing his hand through sludge, Dabi pressed his fingers to the letter. For a brief moment, Maemi worried he’d burn it, too afraid to face whatever Natsuo had to say.
“I want to read it,” he finally said, pulling the letter closer to him. He finally tilted his gaze back to her, a somber seriousness replacing his carefree roguish act. “I’ll ask someone to get you, if I need you.”
A flutter of relief brushed through Maemi. At least, Dabi hadn’t burned the letter. Not that she hadn’t made copies, just in case, but still. He was actively choosing to confront what his family had to say, even if it was difficult.
She simply hoped he was prepared for what they had to say. “Okay, I trust you to know your limits, Dabi.”
For a brief moment, the cocky grin of the villain that had terrorized Japan, and his own family, returned. He oozed a sense of assuredness, which wasn’t altogether genuine. “When have I ever known that, Miss Ono?”
“Dabi.” Maemi’s expression hardened, her lips thinning with a frown. He was falling back into his protective persona, the emotions of this visit taking its toll on him. “Please.”
“I know, I know.” The act immediately melted away, his shoulders slumping. He waved his hand carelessly, but couldn’t meet Maemi’s gaze. “Don’t worry about me. I remember all that mindfulness junk and whatever.”
It would have to do, Maemi decided after a moment’s hesitation. The guards were tapping on the glass, trying to remind her their session’s time was up. She hurriedly gathered her things, before standing. “I’ll see you in a few days, Dabi.”
“Yes, Miss Ono,” sighed the young man, like a put-out school child answering their curmudgeonly teacher.
Maemi turned to glance back at him once, where he still sat at the table, staring at the still-sealed letter. She could see Dabi swallow heavily, before slowly pulling it closer. His finger nervously traced the seam of the envelope, still internally debating.
Despite the worry in her heart, Maemi forced herself through the exit. As soon as she left, the familiar sound of hydraulic bars and steel-enforced doors shutting sounded behind her.
In a world where Dabi was allowed very little freedom - granted, for good reason - letting him choose his path was the best thing Maemi felt she could do for him.
