Serendipity

kenopsia

Before the dark room, he used to visit the courtyard on the east wing of the house. Mom had requested it be turned into a garden with whatever flowers she wanted. Endeavor obliged, on account of her raising the forgotten children.

Before the dark room, mom used to take him to the garden. A few times, she'd bring a book, or a little bottle of bubbles from a gift bag. The wand would get lost in the solution and her fingers would turn sticky from trying to reach it. She always waited to wash her hands, though, she never wanted to leave.

Shouto thinks the garden was her favorite place.

He thinks it was his, too, before he forgot about it. He doesn't know why he can remember it, now. It's coming back to him in little flashes of clarity, so real he can't focus on the present.

She'd sing to him, always the same mawkish song. He remembers humming along and nodding off to sleep, tucked to her side. She didn't sing it for him, more than she sang out loud and he happened to be there.

A flower in her hair, laid on the ground with her limbs spread and relaxed, Mom was humming again. Shouto knew the words she was thinking of and singing along to in her mind. He climbed up her stomach and sat facing her, throwing the petals of daisy flowers into her hair. He threw the stems to the side, absentmindedly humming along to the lullaby.

He doesn't know why it feels important. Maybe just because it's all coming to him at once.

"Shouto," she breathes, a sigh of relief. "Shouto I am so, so sorry. I never should have left you there. I should have told someone or... or-"

"Mom, stop." It's the man from before, standing tall. Seeing his face, Shouto pulls his mom with him as he backs away. He hugs her close to his chest, an old fear of being attacked residing deep within him. He needs to defend her (isn't that familiar?).

He looks like Endeavor.

"It's okay, Shouto," Rei pulls away. He doesn't want her to leave. Touch has never felt this odd. He wants it, and he doesn't. It hurts, and it's reminding him that he was made to be hurt (because he isn't real) (?) and that touch only ever hurts.

But the memories of hugging her from before, numb the pain, and it becomes bearable in the most positive sense.

She's smiling. She never used to do that. Rei gestures to the man, and then to the woman next to him. The memories he has of them are dredged up when he studies their faces. Seeing them play without him. Watching them eat, through a rip in the sliding door, altogether except for father. Father told him he was born to replace them.

"These are your siblings, if you don't remember them," she explains, and if she trusts that they won't hurt him, he can try to.

The girl steps up first, Shouto backs away. He's suddenly all too aware of his surroundings. Of Bakugo behind him, looking ready to pounce if someone tries to hurt Shouto. There is an officer at the door, looking confused about what he should do. Midoriya and Shinsou are not back yet.

"I'm Fuyumi," she says, painfully excited. "I'm your older sister," she adds, as if Shouto hadn't put that together. When the silence stretches on, she speaks for their brother, too. "This is Natsuo, your older brother."

He doesn't want to come off as hostile, because this is the family that didn't hurt him. They skim familiarity, toe the line of known and unknown; safe and unsafe.

He doesn't want to let his guard down. He doesn't want to let them too close.

He nods, words dying on his tongue.

Fuyumi steps forward, arms open in welcome. Shouto flinches, shaking his head. Bakugo steadies him by grabbing his upper arm. Shouto tears himself free. Touch suddenly burns, even though it's Bakugo. Even though it's the white haired woman.