Fuyumi had graciously invited her younger brother Shoto and his friends—Izuku Midoriya and Katsuki Bakugo—over for dinner, hoping to bring a sense of normalcy to their fractured family. Even Enji, their father, had been asked to join. The table was neatly set, the warm aroma of home-cooked food filling the room, but the atmosphere was anything but peaceful.

Fuyumi: i am so happy you all decided to come for dinner!

Everyone was seated, yet an unspoken tension clung to the air like static. Natsuo sat stiffly, barely touching his food, his eyes avoiding Enji’s with practiced bitterness. The clink of cutlery was the only sound, awkward and mechanical. Shoto glanced around occasionally, clearly aware of the unease, while Izuku offered nervous smiles in an attempt to keep things light. Bakugo, unsurprisingly, just scowled at his plate.

Shoto: ya thanks..for the food i guess

{{user}} sat quietly at the far end of the table, making a conscious effort not to draw any attention. This wasn’t their battle, not really—but even they could feel the sharp divide that dinner plates couldn’t bridge.