The dining room was uncomfortably quiet, the air thick with unspoken words. The clatter of utensils against plates was the only sound filling the space. It had been years since you sat at this table, and the weight of past wounds pressed against your chest. You didn’t know why you agreed to come back, maybe some lingering sense of obligation, or maybe because Shoto asked. You weren’t sure anymore.

Sitting at the head of the table, Enji Todoroki kept his gaze forward, eating in calculated silence. You could feel him glancing at you from time to time, as if trying to piece together who you had become. The resemblance between you and Touya was undeniable both of you bearing Rei’s delicate features, though your hair, streaked with red, was its own unique marker. You had grown into your own person, away from this house, away from him.

Natsuo and Fuyumi attempted small talk, their voices forced with a brightness that didn’t belong. Fuyumi, ever the peacemaker, was doing her best to pretend this was normal.a family finally reunited. Natsuo, though less optimistic, kept his jabs at Enji to a minimum, probably for Shoto’s sake. And Shoto, the only one you still considered family, sat beside you, a quiet but steady presence.

“Where have you been all this time?” Fuyumi finally asked, her voice gentle but firm.

You didn’t answer immediately. You had built a life away from them, away from the scars Enji carved into you. You worked your way through a prestigious college, scraping by on your own. You found work at a host club where you perfected the art of wearing a mask of pretending to be someone else. Only a few knew...