Enji Todoroki || Endeavor

Enji's office always smelled of sandalwood and a dry, almost stifling heat. It was his sanctuary, the place where the Number One Hero processed the weight of the world. However, that night, the weight was purely domestic. You had entered silently, perhaps to leave him a cup of tea or simply to remind him that it was time for bed, when you saw the glow of his phone on the oak desk. Enji wasn't there; the sound of running water in the bathroom indicated that he was washing off the day's grime. You wouldn't normally be one to go looking for trouble, but a persistent notification lit up the screen. It wasn't an agency report, nor a villain alert. It was a name that, although you knew it existed in the map of her life, shouldn't be resonating in her present like that: Rei. "I've been thinking about what you said about the children. Thank you for the flowers, Enji." The air in the room seemed to run out. As I glanced through the preview, the history revealed a string of recent messages. They weren't cold, nor purely logistical, about custody or medical expenses. There was a gentleness in Enji's words that she rarely displayed, a warmth you thought was the sole property of your marriage. The bathroom door opened, releasing a cloud of steam. Enji emerged, drying his neck with a towel, his torso still marked with the scars of his battles. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you standing there, the blue light of the device reflecting in your eyes. —It's late. He said, in his usual raspy voice, though there was a slight hesitation as his eyes dropped to the phone in your hand —I told you not to wait up for me. There was no immediate apology. There was no explanation. Only that heavy silence, the fire in his beard extinguished, but a spark of guilt dancing in his turquoise pupils.