His Hero

He's Back

It was nearly noon the next day when the doctor came to give Shoto the all clear to leave. A change of bandages revealed a new set of scars. His hand had been rebandaged and aside from small pains when he picked up something too heavy or flexed his fingers too far, the dagger wound was all but gone. The star shaped scar left on his palm was all that remained of the wound.

He sighed and tossed the charred remains of his hero suit in the trash. Hawks had explained that he needed to use quirk suppressing handcuffs before Shoto could be evacuated from the warehouse. His fire side had burned hotter than ever under the influence of Reality Check's quirk and the winged hero had lost several feathers to the blaze just to get the cuffs on.

The tactical vest he wore to help regulate his temperature had also short circuited. Due to either the fridgid cold or extreme heat of the fight. He shoved the remains of the vest in his bag, hopeful the recording tech inside would give him some insight into just how much he had pushed past his previous limits. The support department was going to be livid he was requesting new gear, again. But he didn't fight the rush of pride the thought brought on. The fight may not have gone how he wanted but he had still managed to surpass his limits.

That pride was washed away though when his phone dinged and he checked his latest message. His father was requesting he come in immediately so they could talk. Of course he would be alerted the minute Shoto was cleared to leave.

Pulling on the last of the civilian clothes Hawks had reluctantly brought him, insisting Shoto do "fan service" and leave in nothing but his underwear, he stuffed the prescription his doctor had left in his bag and turned off the lights.

Pulling a ball cap down further to hide his hair, he quietly slipped out of the hospital undetected. Breathing in the warm summer air outside his shoulders relaxed and he ambled down the street towards Endeavor Agencies. Wanting to take his time and soak up the calming sun rays before walking in to what he was sure would only be described as a shit show with his father.

The walk was far too short for his liking and as the clear glass doors of the agency slowly slid apart he entered the cool building with a frown. Slinging his bag over his shoulder he tilted his head up in acknowledgment at the receptionist whose wide, gleaming eyes had him picking up his pace towards the elevator. She was still new and had yet to get any of the hints he threw her way that she was not his type. Had hadn't found anyone else that was if he was being honest with himself.

Stepping out of the elevator on the top floor he trudged to the last door of the short hallway before taking a deep breath in and out and gently knocking three times. The answer from the low, gruff voice behind the door still sent a slight shiver up the young hero's spine.

"Enter."

The door opened without a noise and latched softly behind Shoto. His father sat behind his large desk with flames extinguished pouring over a mountain of paperwork. There wasn't so much as a glance his son's direction when he entered.

Sighing internally Shoto figured it was better to get this over quickly.

"So, I take if you've read the mission report?"

"I have"

Short answers and a level tone were never a good sign. The fire and ice hero knew this meant his father was trying to reign in his temper. He rarely succeeded.

"What next?"

"I've called someone in to help" Enji pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed as he leaned back in his chair. Assuming the admission of his son needing help was a disappointment to the number one hero, Shoto's temper began to flare.

"So I've heard. Why him?" The young hero struggled to keep his voice level.

"Because he's the number two hero." Enji growled before catching himself and continuing in a softer tone. Soft for the number one hero at least. "And the two of you worked well together back at UA. You're quirks complement each other. It was the obvious choice."