Traitorous

Public Interaction

Shoto leaned across the center console of the car to kiss Momo's cheek as she pulled her seatbelt across her chest.

"How was your day?" he asked.

Momo's eyes flickered to his face apprehensively, evaluating his expression carefully as he pulled away from the curb and began to drive. She wondered if he knew about what had happened with his father earlier in the afternoon — Shoto and Todoroki Enji were not close, so it was possible he hadn't heard. If he didn't now, however, he would soon.

"I...met your father," she said hesitantly.

"I'm sure you gave him every reason to look forward to meeting you formally." And the way Shoto said it, how firm his faith was in her, she wished it was true. He must have glanced her regret on her face though — his head turned in her direction, brow creased. "Did something happen?" Then, angrier, "Did he say something to you?"

"He...overheard me telling Fumikage that he and Hawks are called EndHawks by people."

Shoto's lips pressed into a thin line, but he reached out and put a reassuring hand on her bare knee, just below the hem of her red dress.

"The press would call him worse things if they knew what sort of person he really was," Shoto offered.

"Hawks was there, too, and he seemed to find it funny. But then your father said he heard I would have made a great support Hero."

Shoto's chin tucked toward his chest then, and his shoulders shrugged.

"I have told him as much," he admitted. "You would've been an amazing Hero to have out on the streets with me—"

"But I don't—"

"I know. I know you...like what you do now," he said slowly, and Momo knew he was cherry picking his words. "That doesn't change that if you wanted to be a real Hero—"

"I am a real Hero," Momo frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. His thumb stroked her knee.

"You know I mean a Hero like me. With patrols and direct work with the public. But that doesn't change that if you wanted to do that, you would excel."

"He said support Hero."

"Yome," Shoto coaxed, the soft endearment drawing her away from the disagreement they were on the verge of. "You'd excel at whatever you chose to pursue. You know that."

What she knew was he was ending the conversation. She wasn't done with it, but she chewed on her lower lip, looking out the window in silence. There was nothing to be gained from talking to herself.

It was better that she'd told him now, but she resented his admittance. He had been one of the people telling his father about her lack of desire to be a Hero with "patrols and public interaction". It was a timeless discussion that they'd been enveloped in ever since she'd accepted Majestic's offer to work more closely with his Yakuza cases. She felt selfish for standing so firm on her preference for her work, but she wasn't ready to give up on the work she enjoy to satiate his desire for his girlfriend to be on similar status in the Hero community. This was an argument it wasn't worth rehashing.

She leaned forward and turned on the radio then hit the button for her preset station. Music filled the car and he glanced at her from the corner of his eyes, but Momo said nothing as she reclined back in her seat and relaxed.

Momo opened her eyes as the car slowed. He pulled into a lot and parked the car. Momo let herself out, and a shiver trailed through her at the cold night. It traced through her hair and the base of her skull, then down her spine. Shoto came up beside her, his left arm going around her shoulders, and she exhaled a small sigh of contentment as warmth radiated over her. His arm tightened in response, drawing her body in closer to him as they walked through the brisk night air to the restaurant doors.