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Natsuo wasn’t a good person.
That was an undeniable truth, attached to his very existence from the moment he was born.
Because, ever since that moment, he was already carrying the chains that would shape his whole life: looking exactly like him.
Although it wasn’t obvious at first sight because of his hair and eyes, the rest of his body seemed to scream: “I’m Endeavor’s son!”. It felt as if it was mocking him, and Natsuo hated it.
That’s why, as soon as he was old enough to do so, he dyed the red streaks at the sides of his hair, so it was completely white (maybe trying to reflect a soul-purity he didn’t possess). After all, it wasn’t like his sorry excuse of a father would say something, he probably wouldn’t even notice (and said and done, that’s exactly what happened. Natsuo really hated being right sometimes). That’s why he always tried to use baggy clothes that concealed the width body complexion he’d inherited from that monster, just like he always tried to keep his head down so he took up the smallest space possible; because, despite being tall, Natsuo didn’t want to be an abrasing presence that saturates any room he’s in. The only thing he wanted was to be another one of the crowds, a simple medicine student who gave best of himself; something he could feel proud of.
But that wasn’t possible. And it was all because of the man he was supposed to call “father”.
What a joke. The simple reminder of their shared DNA made Natsuo feel like his blood was boiling with rage.
Sometimes, he heard his classmates talk about how awesome it must be to have Japan’s number two hero (currently number one. Ha, what a way to throw away the ambition that had teared his family apart) as his father. And, obviously, the logical part of his brain told him that they didn’t talk about that with any ill intentions, that they had no way to know how Enji really was and that he should just let it slide without making a big deal out of it. However, his worse emotional part, which always seemed to take over in Endeavor-related matters, advised him something completely different…
So, that’s how, in one of those occasions, he ended up screaming: − You don’t know anything! – while he punched the wall and stormed out of the hall they were in, absolutely livid. Just like his old man. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree after all.
Those classmates never talked to him again after that. Not like he could blame them.
And, honestly, those types of situations were nothing new for him when Endeavor was involved. Because, upon hearing his name, where others saw a hero, Natsuo could only see a monster. A bastard who’d made his little brother cry and had forbidden them from seeing him. A heartless man who considered his other children as “failures” just because of a stupid quirk. An abuser who hit his mother when she tried to protect her youngest child from unnecessary violence under the pretense of “training”, while Fuyumi and Natsuo heard everything from a corner, unable to do anything; that’s not true, Fuyumi couldn’t anything because of you, a crybaby she had to console.
Although, upon remembering, that incident hadn’t had anything to do with the training, it’d been because of something related with Touya, hadn’t it? Maybe… Sometimes he couldn’t help but think that his memory had some blank spaces during the years his mother had been home with them. And that isn’t normal, is it? No. Natsuo was a nine-year-old boy by that time, memory gaps like that shouldn’t happen anymore, he’d learned about that at college. That wasn’t normal. Although, Natsuo himself wasn’t normal anyway, so who cares about that.
Your girlfriend cares, and so would probably do the rest of your family if you just told them about your problems instead of avoiding them all and lashing out when they try to talk to you about it.
But, more than anything, when Natsuo saw the great hero Endeavor in the news where everyone praised his wonderful work: where a mother expressed her gratitude towards the flame hero for saving her son from a villain; the only thing in Natsuo’s mind was Touya. His older brother who’d been ignored by their father just like Natsuo, who expressed feeling abandoned and who was willing to do anything if it meant Enji would look at him. That’s what unleashed everything that came afterwards: a child’s desperate attempts to get attention from his father, even if he hurt himself in the process. The result? Burning a whole forest and dying.
Or at least that’s what his family thought.
For years, Natsuo felt like a part of his heart had burnt with Touya, like there was a hole in his chest where his heart was meant to be (a feeling boosted by the fact that after Touya’s death, Endeavor became even colder and stricter). For years, Natsuo avoided the bedroom he and his brother used to share, as if there was a plague inside. Because of this, everything in there remained exactly like they’d left it: with Touya’s side filled of Endeavor’s figures’ collection, while Natsuo’s had an ocean theme.
For years, Natsuo had filled himself with anger towards Enji Todoroki because, in his eyes, he’d killed Touya with his indifference.
For years… Natsuo had prayed at the altar of a boy who never died…
Because…
In the end…
everything had been fake…
Touya was alive and, instead of returning home so they could ease the pain that haunted their family, he decided to expose his whole genealogic tree’s history for the world to see and tried to kill them all, risking innocent lives in the process. And all of that, for what? Only to get Endeavor’s attention? Natsuo couldn’t understand it. He never could.
But if your roles were swapped, you’d also do that if it meant that daddy would look at you, wouldn’t you? After all, Touya and you always were very similar to each other, that’s why he looked for you when you were little.
But, even if Natsuo couldn’t understand Touya’s reasoning, he was still his brother. That’s why, despite telling Enji that his daily visits would be an earthly hell, the young man couldn’t help but find himself face to face with his brother two weeks before his wedding.
To say that it turned out well would the greatest lie ever told in human history.
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Natsuo wasn’t really sure about why he’d thought that visiting his dying brother was a good idea. Everything inside him seemed to scream at him that this was, in fact, very far from being “a good idea”. His legs were trembling, as if they were begging him to turn around and run away from that place. His chest felt heavy, as if his heart was duplicating its size in a vain attempt to escape the suffering his body inflicted it. His hands were sweaty, even though the fresh temperature inside the residence should be comforting for his quirk.
All in all, his brain seemed to be sending orders to act out to as many parts of his body as possible; whatever it took to get him out of there.
However, his soul never liked to follow anyone’s commands, especially not ones from a voice in his head that sounded very similar to Endeavor’s. Although, would it really be that bad to hear it sometimes? Yes, it would. Natsuo would never be like him. Oh, you dumb boy.
But, more than anything, Natsuo was here because, in the last few weeks, his dreams had been plagued by the memory of Dabi presenting himself to the whole country as Touya Todoroki, the number one hero Endeavor’s eldest son.
The worst part was that apparently his subconscious had decided that said dreams (which would be more accurate to call nightmares, but meh, who cares) should be extremely realistic; to the point that Natsuo felt as if he was there once again, sitting in a classroom after one of his lessons and watching a video in his cellphone where a villain claimed to be his brother. Feeling as if his whole world was falling apart. Feeling as if the part of himself that had mourned Touya’s death was stripped out of him.
Because that’s how Natsuo had felt when he watched that video: as if someone had taken away a part of himself. As if his inner child was forced to find out that he’d suffered for a lie.
And, of course, his logical part told him that not everything had been a lie (Shoto had told them about how apparently Touya had spent three years in a come after his accident, and obviously, during that time it would’ve been impossible for him to come back). But… his worst emotional part made him question if even that was true. After all, Touya had lived for years in the criminal world under a fake name*(please refer to the author’s note at the end for additional information), it was completely possible for him to lie about being in a coma only to get a reaction out of Shoto.
The point that he wanted to make with all of this is that Natsuo wanted answer. And he was going to get them. In the moment where he decided to cut all ties with Endeavor, he’d promised himself that he wouldn’t let his family’s past shape his future, specially something as important as his wedding.
And Natsuo never broke a promise.
With all of this in his mind, Natsuo finally arrived to the place where Touya Dabi was at. And, even though very little of his body was visible because all of the machines around him and the bandages covering him, Natsuo couldn’t help but think that he looked worse off than he did during his last visit (granted, that had also been his only visit and it had already been months ago, but his point still stood).
− Whatever, − Natsuo thought – he’s in this state because of his own choices. I have nothing to do with that. I’ve already taken responsibility by stopping my stupid brother from burning down a whole district. There’s nothing else I can do for him −. If he felt like his heart was beating even faster than before it was simply because those were the physical effects of nerves combined with lack of sleep. It had absolutely nothing to do with his brother’s condition. Even less so with the fact that the only reason he was visiting him was only to satisfy his own selfish needs. No, none of that had anything to do with his body’s reaction. Oh Natsuo, you may be able to lie to everyone around you, but never to yourself.
Natsuo decidedly ignores the pathetic painful state the man before him is and goes straight to the point.
− I won’t beat around the bush nii-san. – Natsuo never imagined he’d use that honorific again, nor that the words would escape his lips with such a cold tone. But alas, here he was. – I didn’t come here out a fraternal wish to see you or anything. In my last visit I told Endeavor very clearly that I did not intend to come back here and that I didn’t want to have anything to do with him. You probably already know that. – Since the old man seemed intent on spending every day of the rest of Dabi’s life with him, he would’ve surely told him about that. Jealous, huh? – The only reason I’m here is because lately my subconscious seems to want answers or something. So, I’ll ask you a few questions and you’ll answer them with nothing but the truth, got it? −.
Dabi Touya simply looked at him for a few seconds that felt like hours until he muttered a small “Alright”. Even his voice sounded weaker than before. His brother really was dying.
Natsuo cleared his throat far more times than he’d like to admit before he spoke up once more. – Ehm, well… − the boy cleared his throat one last time. Get a hold of yourself Natsuo. – Shoto said that before the rest of us arrived to that final battle, you’d told him about what happened after your accident. He mentioned that you’d talked about a hospital where you’d been in a coma for three years and that you ran away to come back home. But that when you arrived, you… saw your own altar. And thought that… that we’d forgotten about you. – Natsuo had to physically force himself to say those last sentences because that… that was a blatant lie. In all of the years following his “death”, Natsuo had never, ever, forgotten Touya. The fact that his brother, his nii-san, could genuinely believe something like that filled him with rage. It made him want to scream at the idiot in front of him to stop focusing on Endeavor and look at the rest of his family too. A family that loved him. A family that grieved his death. A family that Enji and him had scarred permanently.
But, doing that would probably be counteractive; so, putting all of his willpower to use, the only thing to escape his lips was a – Is that true? −.
Touya opened his mouth in a painfully slow motion and said – That… is… the truth −. Each word seemed to be more taxing to say than the previous one, accompanied by ragged breaths that caused undesirable physical effects in Natsuo. However, he already had an answer. After all, Natsuo seriously doubted Touya was able to keep up with a lie like that in his state.
Which led him to the next thing he wanted to ask…
−Touya-nii-san… did you ever… feel genuine affection towards me? Not as someone you could talk to in the middle of the night, but… as a brother.
That was the answer Natsuo wanted to hear the most. The confirmation that, somewhere inside his brother’s rotten heart, behind all the hatred that had consumed him, there was still a place for him.
After all, Touya seemed sorry the last time he’d answered a question from Shoto, so surely there was still some of that love saved for Natsuo, whom he’d been close as a child. There was no way Touya would say…
−No.
What…?
That… that was impossible…
Natsuo must’ve heard him wrong…
Yes, that’s certainly what happened! It was hard to hear Touya’s words clearly with the way he was breathing through machines. He’d probably just confused one of his brother’s attempts to breathe with a “no”.
There was no way Touya, his Touya-nii…
−Natsu… − Touya-nii said, almost as if he could read his thoughts. Good, now he’d obviously clarify that what Natsuo thought he heard wasn’t his actual answer and would tell him the truth. −… as kid-ds… every time I… looked at… you… I-I only saw… someone who… was ex-xactly… like… h-him…−. Each word seemed to take more out of him than the previous one, but Natsuo wasn’t focusing on that this time.
The only thing he could hear were Touya’s words.
Someone who was exactly like him.
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Someone who was exactly like him…
Someone who was exactly like him
Someone who was exactly like him
SOMEONE WHO WAS EXACTLY LIKE HIM
SOMEONEWHOWASEXACTLYLIKEHIMSOMEONEWHOWASEXACTLYLIKEHIMSOMEONEWHOWASEXACTLYLIKEHIMSOMEONEWHOWASEXACTLYLIKEHIMSOMEONEWHOWASEXACTLYLIKEHIMSOMEONEWHOWASEXACTLYLIKEHIMSOMEONEWHOWASEXACTLYLIKEHIMSOMEONEWHOWASEXACTLYLIKEHIMSOMEONEWHOWASEXACTLYLIKE-
Those words kept haunting him even several days after his visit. At the moment, Natsuo hadn’t known how to react. It was as if his brain had disconnected from his body.
So, he did the only thing he was good at went to his instinctive response: Yelling.
The last thing Natsuo remembered about his visit was yelling at Touya about how he was even worse than Endeavor and the doctor telling him to get out. Apparently, his brother’s condition couldn’t deal with the stress of the moment, yet Natsuo could deal with his heart being broken in a million pieces. Wonderful.
He was pretty sure he’d told him something else before storming out, but he couldn’t recall it. That wasn’t normal.
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Even though visiting Touya had not been a very pleasing experience, at least it’d helped to reduce his nightmares about Dabi’s revelation; so that was kind of nice.
But that didn’t mean his family-related dreams had stopped; rather, they’d changed the subject: now they were focused on Fuyumi. (Who was next, Shoto?)
Which Natsuo didn’t quite understand but certainly found ironic, considering his two older siblings were polar opposites.
After his visit, Natsuo understood after he’d turned the conversation around his head for over three days that the only thing Touya had ever cared about was Endeavor, everything he did was because of and for him, that’s why he could talk about the way he’d killed over thirty innocent civilians in cold blood with absolute calm. Because as long as Enji was looking at him he didn’t care; the rest of his family was nothing but a bonus. Something akin to an item children get in a restaurant if they buy a certain combo. Touya had never cared about them. At least not in the way they cared about him.
The brother Natsuo had mourned, the one he thought he knew, was only a façade. An illusion. A lie his brain had created in a vain attempt to keep memories of better times that had never existed.
The Touya he saw in that hospital (one who wasn’t Touya but Dabi), that was his real face. The face of a man who was ready to drag them all down with him as long as he could get Endeavor’s eyes fixed on him.
Fuyumi on the other hand… Oh Fuyumi, his sweet nee-chan…
His sister’s heart was too kind for this world. Ever since Natsuo could remember, Fuyumi was always smiling at him, comforting him, hugging him when no one else did. Even when Natsuo felt like everything was hopeless, Fuyumi always tried to find the bright side of any situation.
And her kindness wasn’t reserved for him. Fuyumi was kind with anyone she met. Whether it was one of her student’s mother, co-workers, Shoto’s friends, the nurses who worked at their mother’s hospital; even with strangers. No matter who it was, Fuyumi always greeted them with her best smile. Because… that’s just the kind of person she is.
Fuyumi was a good person.
Natsuo was not.
While Fuyumi jovially greeted someone and made small talk with them, Natsuo barely gave a polite nod and awkwardly stood to the side. When they saw an Endeavor-related announcement on the street, Fuyumi sped up her pace while Natsuo shot it a look that could surely melt it if he had a fire quirk.
While Fuyumi clearly made an effort to keep their family together with her dinners, Natsuo couldn’t even keep his composure in front of Endeavor for over five minutes.
It was stupid. Even Shoto, who’d certainly been the blank of that man’s worst face, could be in the same room as him without making a fuss.
And yet Natsuo couldn’t.
Something his dreams’ Fuyumi seemed intent on calling him out for.
His dream always started the same: with his family reunited in Endeavor’s hospital room after Tou- Dabi’s revelation. Even though everything looked just as he remembered at first (Enji sobbing on his hospital bed, Fuyumi standing at his side, Shoto covered in bandages, his mother holding two rindou flowers in her hands), the scenery slowly started to change.
The room got filled with mist and became as cold as the snow in the middle of winter. For a moment, Natsuo was alone in the middle of the mist, until a figure at the center slowly started making its way towards him. Once it got close, Natsuo could see clearly who it was: Fuyumi.
His sister was standing in front of him. Her whole face was devoid of any visible emotion and her eyes seemed lifeless. Then, Fuyumi held his hands and said: − You are not a good person Natsuo −. Not Natsu, as Fuyumi used to call him, but Natsuo. Plus, even though her expression remained unmoving, her voice sounded so… sad. Disappointed, even. As if, for the first time, she realized something Natsuo believed to be a very evident fact for anyone who knew him. As if, for the first time, she saw who Natsuo really was. As if, for the first time, Natsuo revealed a face of himself he hid behind a mask. As if, just like it happened to him with Touya, Fuyumi’s brain remembered a version of Natsuo that was completely different to the one she was seeing right now.
Before the boy could give any kind of retort, Fuyu-nee covered his mouth with one of her hands, while she took the other one to her own lips in the classic “stay silent” motion.
And then…
Natsuo woke up.
He didn’t really get what the dream could possibly want to tell him. After all, it didn’t bring him back to a painful memory like Touya’s, but the atmosphere certainly was… odd. Unsettling, more than anything.
And, anyways, even if his subconscious was trying to give him some sort of message then he was pretty sure it was losing its time.
You are not a good person Natsuo.
− Yeah, that’s something I already knew, thank you very much – thought the young man.
After all, it was true. Natsuo wasn’t compassionate, kind, or forgiving.
Natsuo was the one who “couldn’t move on”, the resentful one, the only one who wasn’t interested on hearing about Enji’s great change of heart. No matter how much he tried, the only thing the boy could see when he looked at that man’s face was someone who’d abandoned him his whole life. Someone who felt more like a stranger than a father. Someone he only heard about through his little brother’s cries. How could Natsuo find kindness or warmth on that man’s eyes when, his whole life, he’d only found a reflection of maliciousness and cold indifference?
The answer was very simple: He couldn’t.
Because, unlike his mother, Fuyumi and Shoto; Natsuo wasn’t a good person.
Although he hated to admit it, Natsuo was more similar to Touya and Enji than the rest of them. After all, when he was a kid, Natsuo resented his little brother because, when he was born, his mother had less time to spend with him. But, thinking it through, had his mother really spent that much time with him before that? No matter how hard Natsuo tried, whenever he tried to remember moments he could’ve shared with his mother, he only saw Fuyumi in her place. Was Natsuo such a bad son that none of his parents wanted to spend time with him? Natsuo was jealous of Shoto, just like Touya was.
Natsuo was not a good person.
He knew that.
But…
did his dreams really have to remind him that constantly?
Natsuo had accepted the fact that he’d never be able to forgive his father and had plans to never see him again. If he could stop the anger that took a hold of his veins in front of the man from consuming him, then he would do so. He had already made his peace with that. Or at least that’s what he told himself. That’s what he grasped onto to keep as much of his sanity as possible.
Oh, poor Natsuo, you have so much potential. Maybe, in another universe, fate could’ve been kinder towards him. But, as it was, he had no choice but to resign himself to the path carved for him. After all, what else could he do?
You should’ve been a hero. No, never. He didn’t want to be like his father.
Plus, even with a life as common and ordinary as his, where he didn’t have any type of fame nor fortune, he still had many reasons to leave Touya and Endeavor behind forever. One of which was waiting for him in the kitchen when he got home. His sweet fiancé, Miki.
And, maybe, with the lovely way those eyes looked at him (so unlike a cold blue or a desperate gray that plagued his childhood) …
Maybe, with those eyes looking at him, it would be easier to leave everything behind. At least that’s what he hoped.