The Daughter

10: Mistake

(I need a comment of motivation fr😔)

With Endeavor's abrupt return, the mood of the household had dulled by quite a bit, no longer feeling as passionate and as loving as before.

One day, Fuyumi had gotten the teens a pair of 2litre juice bottles. Late at night, when Endeavor was believed to be asleep is when they both cracked one open. They were both quiet about it.

Pouring the sweet orange liquid into two mugs, they both realized that they-in their nervousness- heated the drinks up. They were bubbling hot. Her body started radiating heat(plasma), and he was visibly heating up on his left side. They decided to put them in the freezer, fearing freezing it with Shoto's quirk. The thing is, Endeavor had temperature markings in his room for every room in the house.
He was particularly meticulous about the house temperature, punishing anyone for using their quirk unwarranted.

They put the drinks into the freezer, decreasing the temperature and leaving. They went back into their rooms, and as they closed the doors, he stepped out of his. They froze at the door, not wanting to make a sound.

He made his way into the kitchen, opening the freezer. Behind the mugs were two packs of beer. He grabbed the mugs, half spilling out the juice, and took out the beers. He poured them into the mugs, drinking both mugs. He then realized that it was mixed with juice and spilled it in the sink again, retching at the realization.

The juice and the beers had a similar appearance. Not bothering to find the juice and refill the mugs, he just poured the alcoholic beverages in the mugs and put them back, taking the rest of the two packs with him to his room.

They almost fell out of their door as soon as they heard the room door close again and noticed the lights were out. They checked the fridge again, both sighing in relief as the mugs were still there. Bear in mind that these mugs were conventionally tall, like a water bottle.

They took the mugs and were surprised to find them cold to the touch. They didn't want to think too much of it, refusing to question whether or not his father could ever feign something as-and I quote-insignificant as kindness.

They gently clicked the two mugs together and took a sip. They immediately stopped. "This is bitter." Sanako retorted, almost disgusted. She looked at Shoto, who nodded in agreement. "Maybe it'll taste better if we drink all of it...?"

They were unsure but still agreed to it. They barely finished the mugs, and already, she placed them in the sink, feeling unbalanced.
Shoto had been bashing his head against the table gently, feeling his quirk swapped around. She reached out to him, trying to get him to stop it since he was pushing himself to a concussion.

She then found herself perched on Shoto as he slowly started to freak out about his quirk. "I'm... hot... I'm hot... I'm hot on the wrong side...!"
Now, he normally gets like this when he has a fever, which she-in her unknowingly drunken state-was going to do. However, her body slid off of his, and she grabbed onto him before he could fall to the ground. Rolling for a few seconds before landing atop of the confused boy, she looked around for a bit before hearing his voice, muffled against her chest. Not wanting to know more, she stood up and dragged him to bed. Their vision both clouded, they did not hesitate to pass out.

...

The next day, they woke up lazily and late since they had time off. Stretching in a pandiculation pose(cat stretching), she had yet again dozed off. This time, however, she realized she was sleeping on muscle. Looking down at the supposed futon, it turned out to be Shoto. Based on what she could feel with her hands alone, she didn't dare look downward. Rolling off of him and taking some of the blanket they supposedly shared with her, she sat upright as she realized she was in a sports bra and tights. That was fine. It meant they didn't do anything. I couldn't mean that they did anything... right..?

Getting up and just cleaning up the room while tucking Shoto in before sneaking into the bathroom to bathe and get a change of clothes, she had kept herself surprisingly in check for someone who never did that usually. Endeavor had all but vanished from the house, the only evidence of his presence being the empty bottles of alcohol in them. She finally realized what they drank just wasn't juice.

It had been around noon, and Shoto had still been asleep. Odd. She slowly slid the door open and checked on him. He was awake, but he had had his fingers pinching his temples as he was continuously brushing his hand across his face as though he was reeling in what had happened.

"Master? Are you OK?" He held his hand up, shaking his head. "Don't... don't call me that... please." He begged, his tone holding a high note of regret.

In no less than a minute, she was knelt down in front of him. "Is about last night?" She asked bluntly. He had been surprised, to say the least, but he nodded his head in approval before explaining his memory of the previous night, which had more details than she remembered. When he had concluded, she had bowed her head down in embarrassment. The tips of her ears had turned red, a bead of sweat slowly dripping down her face to her chin and a very flustered expression.

"At least we didn't do that... that... would've made things different between us." She spoke softly, referring more to their work relationship than their friendship. However, Shoto had taken it that way. He had been disappointed, curling his fingers into a fist so tightly his knuckles had whitened. He didn't want to lose her as a friend.

She'd been with him, had been so understanding of his frustration, and was just... pleasant. She had been so gentle about handling his fragile mental state that it angered him every time he gets reminded of the fact that Endeavor had abused her needlessly. It hurt and comforted him when she still stayed, even when she-with all her luggage-could've left and never looked back. He... he loved that about her... but did he really...? Or was that his traumatized self talking? Was it really him?

No matter. He held her two hands in his before pressing his forehead against them softly. "Please... forgive me."
Confused, she merely nodded. He was scared, she could tell.

"No, I didn't mean our friendship. We'll always be good friends, and I won't disregard that, but I do mean things will be sort of different, don't you agree?"

He was stunned but slowly agreed, a smile complimenting his features. "Sorry."
"You're being silly by thinking I'd stop being friends with you. You're right, though, but we haven't crossed that bridge yet, so let's not make it seem as such."

His hands tightened around hers as the sun bellowed into the room, its warm and bright rays glistening against his heterochromatic eyes in such a gentle way it almost made her heart flutter in its captive cage.

This boy would be the death of her. Really, he would be.