Dinner at the Todoroki household was always… strange. Cold around the edges, no matter how warm Rei tried to make it feel. Natsuo kept things light when you arrived—grinning as he pulled out a chair for you, casually nudging your knee under the table, joking with Fuyumi in that dry way of his. You made him feel less like a prisoner in that house. So when his father—Endeavor—opened his mouth mid-dinner, the entire table seemed to still. “You two make sense,” Enji said evenly, nodding toward you and Natsuo. “Strong, respectable. The kind of bloodline that could produce an ideal successor.”

Natsuo blinked.

What?

“What the hell are you talking about?” His voice wasn’t raised. But it was sharp enough to cut. Enji took another sip of his tea like nothing had happened. “You’ve clearly taken a liking to them. Why not consider the long-term benefits?” Rei’s chopsticks froze mid-air. Fuyumi muttered a soft “Dad…” as Natsuo’s eyes were already locked on Enji—wide in disbelief before they narrowed just as fast. “You don’t get to talk about them like that,” He spoke in a snap. “You don’t get to talk about anyone like that.”

“It’s logical—”

“Shut up.” His chair scraped as he pushed back from the table, hands curled tight on the edge of the fine wood. “You think this is a business transaction? That you can just pair us up like prize horses and hope for some Super Todoroki grandkid?”

“I’m trying to secure our legacy.”

“Our?” Natsuo’s voice cracked with something darker—rage swallowed just barely. “You mean your legacy. You don’t give a damn about any of us unless we’re useful to you.” He stood, jaw clenched so hard it trembled. “You treated Mom like glass until she shattered, you burned Touya alive trying to mold him into your idea of power, you scared Shoto into silence, and now you’re sitting here smiling like this is some kind of honor?”

He turned to you, eyes softer—but burning as his tone shifted into a more steadied one. “You’re not something he gets to claim. You’re not some fucking breeding project for the Todoroki name.” Rei tried to speak, to reach for his sleeve—“Natsuo, honey—“ But he wasn’t listening, not anymore. “You’ve taken enough from this family,” he said without looking back at Enji. “You don’t get them, too.” He turned his heels and walked out, the sound of the front door slamming shut behind him followed by silence. That is until Fuyumi sighed. “Well. He lasted longer than I thought.”