Shoto and I sat on a plush couch that had been cleaned especially for us. The rest of the room seemed a bit dirty, but was straightened and dusted. Enji, as Shoto's father told me to call him, sat across from us on a red chair resembling a throne. He and I made fierce eye contact, and I already knew it would be a long night of keeping up a wall.

"Would you like something to drink?" He says, rising and finally breaking eye contact.

My move.

"I would rather enjoy that sir, what do you have?" I say sweetly, Shoto catching my eye with some difficulty.

Be careful.

I'll be fine, I mouthed back, but Shoto still looked uneasy.

"I could make you a margarita? I'm sure you'd enjoy that." Without looking at him, I knew from his tone of voice he was mocking my femininity by way of stereotypes.

"I'll have a whiskey straight." I sat back, but even turning to face the man. I hear him pour my drink, and after a minute he hands Shoto and I our drinks. He seems to have some sort of concoction, derived from multiple different forms of alcohol.

"So (L/N) was it? What's your alias? Where are you on the chart?" He asks, and I know it was the question he'd been dying to ask since we arrived.

"I'm not on the chart, sir." I say, sipping my sour drink.

"Not in the chart? But you are a hero?"

"No sir. I have my license, by alas, am still not a hero." I say, trying to hide my smirk.

"What do you do then?" Enji says, leaning back in his chair, eyeing me with disgust.

"I'm head detective and head profiler if this precinct of Japan." I say simply.

"What is a profiler?" He asks. Mortal.

"A profiler is a trained professional that can look at human behavior, simple things like what paintings you have and how simple or intricate your fine china is. We use this information to build a profile of a criminal. It's just basic human psychology at its finest. Sir." I explain, staring into my glass the whole time. I look up when I finish explaining, seeing Enji with his eyebrow slightly raised.

"And what can you tell about me?" He says leaning forward.

You underestimate my power.

I look him over, up down and side to side. Finally, a take a sip of my drink, placing it on a coaster. I lock eyes with the behemoth man.

"You underestimate me. You don't think the profiling is a reliable way of fighting crime, but that's ok, most people don't. You have a huge home but you don't really live here, you simply exist here. You're here when you're not on duty. You're here when your not doing a publicly stint. You try not to be here at all if you can help it.

"Your plants are fake, most likely because you're never here to take care of them, but they're most likely a reflection of your life. You can't care for things the way you're supposed to, or have a hard time doing so. They take up space, making the house feel a bit more full and a bit less empty, making you feel less lonely when you actually are here." He wears a shocked expression but recovers quickly.

"Anything else you would like to know?" I asked. "I could go deep into your ancestry, or perhaps your past marriage—"

"What is your quirk?" He asks blandly.

You weren't kidding Shoto, I thought, he is rather straight forward. Way to mention something completely unrelated.

"It's called Analyst sir." I say simply, staring his father down.

"How does it work?"

"Well, once I make eye contact with someone I can practically search though their brain like it's a computer. That's how I see the mind set up like anyway."

"Interesting."

"I like to think so."

"Dinner is ready, Todoroki-sama." Maria says from the elaborate archway that needed a new coat of paint.

"Thank you. We're coming."

(/)/(/)/(/)/(/)/(/)/(/)/(/)/(/)/(/)/(/)/(/)/(/)

Dinner was sushi, a large arrangement of rolls that was laid out spectacularly on the large dining room table. Small bowls of white sauce and soy sauce were at all our places, with Enji at the head of the table, Shoto and I on either side.

They talked, including me every once in a while. The talk was mostly of hero work, and of recent battles he had fought. Questions like, "Do you still spend time with Deku," and "That LEM is a hothead."

Boring talk. Boring dinner. But interesting background. Shoto and his father had little to no relationship, the only reason they had anything to talk about was because Shoto had a public role in the community.

Then the kicker.

"So you're still at number three?"

"Yes sir."

"I'm not very pleased. You need to surpass Deku." Enji insisted, taking a sip of his coffee. We were at the desert course now, eating a soft yellow cake and drinking coffee.

"Yes father."

"You may need to work on your technique. I could help you."

"Perhaps that's for the best." My eye twitched as I raised a fork full of cake to my mouth. Shoto watched me and gave me a warning from across the table.

I felt my firewall crack a small bit. I hyper focused on my bowl of soy sauce (now only halfway full), repairing the crack and reenforcing the wall.

"But then again father," Shoto says after a moment of silence I hadn't noticed had passed passed, "(Y/N) is giving me inspiration to be an even better hero." He smiles and reaches over to grab my hand. I put mine in his, smiling back.

Keep it up. You love Shoto. You're dating Shoto. Keep it up. Smile, blush. You're doing great.

"A woman is not enough to be a good hero. A woman supports you no matter what. Nothing else." I was done.

"A woman is meant to walk beside her lover, and they beside her. The lovers in question are to support each other through everything. Speaking of support, I've sat and watched and listened to you degrade Shoto all night long. We get it, you hated All Might and you wanted to be number one, but your children are their own people. They are not your puppets for you use. They are not actors in your twisted screenplay, so stop treating them as such, and for once, will you please, for the love of God, say that you're proud of your son?" I recite calmly, staring at my now empty plate.

Looking up, Shoto is staring at me with a look of something, shock, embarrassment, interest, love, disappointment, something. Enji stares at me with a blank face.

"How did you know about All Might?" He asks softly.

"I've watched the interviews. You always try not to look at him, and when you do, you fake happiness. I mentioned him once this evening and you flinched, while rolling your eyes. It's just basic human psychology at its finest. Sir." He smiles the tiniest bit.

"Shoto, I'm impressed. You've picked a good woman who's smart and stands up for herself. I'm proud of you."

(/)/(/)/(/)/(/)/(/)/(/)/(/)/(/)/(/)/(/)/(/)/(/)

"Thank you." Shoto says after we had been driving a while. "For standing up for me in front of my father." His hands loosely gripped the side of the car door, and mine loosely gripped a small container which held a piece of the soft yellow cake (which I had learned from Maria was flan).

"I couldn't sit there and watch that any longer. Watch you get put down like that. I couldn't stand it." I say back. I pause a moment. "Jokes on your dad though, I stole some of his candy." I said, and pulled out a handful of candy from a pocket I had discovered in my skirt.

"How did you even—" Shoto starts, but I shush him.

"A magician never tells her secrets."

We drive to my apartment in silence, about half way there Shoto reached over and put his hand on my thigh, over my skirt. I paid his hand no mind. But there it lingered there the whole way home.

When he dropped me off at my door, he said that he had a confession to make.

"(Y/N), since I first met you, I was awestruck by your beauty. And now that I've met you, and know you, I've fallen madly in love with you." He stares into my eyes, holding my hand, his thumb rubbing my palm.

I had been denying it since the "date." That he had actual feelings for me. But I know my answer, I've known it from the start, but I just didn't want to give it.

I'm sorry Shoto.

"I'm sorry, I just can't..." I trailed off, not knowing how to explain. "I'm not ready for a relationship right now. I'm sorry, Shoto, I truly am." He looks down at me and smiles wider.

"Then I'll wait for you." I think he's going to cry for a second.

"Shoto, I don't think we should see each other anymore. I don't want to lead you on." I say, pulling my hand away from his gently.

"Please, seeing you with another man is better than not seeing you at all." He says, a pleading look on his face. "I'll wait. You're the one for me, I know it. I can wait for you my love." He pauses. "Can I have a goodbye kiss at least?" He finally asks.

I stand still, still awestruck. He takes my silence as a yes and gently presses his lips to mine. He smiles into the kiss, and pulls away after a few seconds.

"I'll see you soon, (Y/N)."

"See you Shoto." Is all I could muster as I watched the white and red haired male stalk down my hallway.

What the hell we gon' do now?

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