Endeavor watched All Might sideways, arms folded across his chest.

The blond avoided his gaze, pretending to focus his attention on the outside world visible through the glass wall.

- I don't see why my presence is required, he said in a calm voice, different from All Might's 'public appearance' special. This has nothing to do with me.

- This matter has everything to do with you.

- He's not my son, All Might denied. I've never exchanged more than three sentences with him.

- You involved me in your succession and 'Duo' stories without asking my opinion. This story is just one of the consequences of your own actions.

All Might smiled soberly and shook his head.

- You agreed.

The sun set on the horizon, casting its golden light on the two heroes.

- If I refused, and the great and all-powerful All Might was defeated by a lowly villain the next time he lost control of his Quirk, the country would be plunged into a state of crisis.

All Might's lips were a thin white line.

- I can't do this

- Why can't you ?

- Because your son is a murderer.

Endeavor's eyes narrowed to two slits.

The ambient temperature was rising, the air heavy and sticky as if before a thunderstorm.

- My son, Endeavor growled in a low voice, Is the only thing that has saved your pathetic impostor's facade. Without him, you'd be dead, and all your 'Hero' and 'destiny' bullshit with you.

All Might said nothing, but his eyes had regained that fluorescent, invigorating glow that appeared every time he used the One for All.

- He's not a killer, Endeavor continued. He just did what he had to do to survive.

All Might turned his head toward Endeavor so quickly that his neck snapped.

- What about those in the camp? Were they defending themselves as well?

Endeavor was deaf to argument, his anger simmering like a pot about to boil over.

- My son is not a murderer

All of Might's features were stern, harder than stone.

- Look what you've done. By smothering him too much, you've created a monster.

Endeavor, his skin suddenly translucent, crossed the corridor in a few steps until he reached All Might.

A smell of sulfur and lava wafted in his wake.

- Be very careful what you say, Yagi.

Far from stumbling, All Might rose from his position against the wall and faced Endeavor without flinching.

The two men faced each other, their power saturating the air, filling their throats like thick poison, flowing around their bodies in a promise of unbridled violence.

- Or what?

It was stronger than him, stronger than his logic, stronger than all his reason and common sense combined.

All Might's authority was never questioned - never.

And on the very rare occasions when someone tried to step on him, some animal instinct overrode his conscience and forced him to assert himself, to prevail, to dominate, to prove that he was the supreme being.

Endeavor smiled, and there was something dangerous in the way he did it.

- You talk as if you've never killed before, Endeavor taunted, But you have, haven't you?

All Might didn't answer.

- We've all done it, us so-called 'heroes' - by accident or because the big boss himself told us to.

Endeavor's smile faded, his face darkening, his gaze hardening.

- You may be All Might, but you're just another guy in a suit, who'll be forgotten as soon as the next one comes along...

- That's a brave thing to say, coming from the man who was never able to step out of my shadow.

- Says the man who was born without a Quirk and who will die without one

The two men stared at each other, refusing to concede victory to the other.

- When I told you that you would publicly announce your support for my son...

A dangerous gleam lit up Endeavor's eyes.

- It wasn't a suggestion.

Once again, the need to dominate flared in All Might's chest.

- You're nobody to give me orders.

Endeavor studied him silently.

Then he took a step back, regained control of his Quirk, and the pressure saturating the air exploded like a balloon running out of steam.

- If you don't, everyone will know what a pathetic, breathless Quirkless you are.

Endeavor stopped.

- No, I've got a better idea. Everyone will know that your Quirk can be transmitted, and after that...

Then the witch hunt would begin, and All Might would be hunted down like a dog until he died or his power was ripped from his shattered body.

All Might's eyes widened.

- You wouldn't dare.

Endeavor's skin suddenly turned blue, preceding the activation of his God Mode.

He looked All Might straight in the eye, his Quirk humming beneath his skin, his eyes as dark as the darkest fires of hell.

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- Try me

*

The doors of the Tokyo courthouse closed and the screams of the crowd and the media were immediately muffled, as if the cacophony of the outside world had been covered by a glass bell.

- Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to thank you for coming on such short notice given the circumstances.

The prosecutor wiped his brow with a folded handkerchief and motioned to one of the policemen guarding one of the doors to turn on the air conditioning.

It was already a hot summer day, exacerbated by the fact that we were locked in a room where Endeavor - also known as the Human Volcano - stood, arms crossed over his torso, wearing a navy blue suit.

I was seated between my father and Nezu - who apparently had a law degree and a few years as a New York lawyer under his belt. The Prefect was on the right, presiding over the "U" that our gathering formed, then the two opposing attorneys, and a member of the Heroic Commission, representing the government.

- We will now begin this private trial

He motioned for the young man to his left to press the button to begin the recording of the trial.

- 25 august 2323. Yamanaka Taguchi, prosecutor in charge of this trial. We will begin by listing the charges brought against Mr. Shoto Todoroki in connection with events that occurred five years ago and that have recently resurfaced following the release of a series of declassified documents. Not mentioned or considered will be the actions of the public prosecutor at the time, Yorishi Azui, who is alleged to have participated in the cover-up of this case. The defendants will then be given time to formulate a response, after which the opposition will take over. I'm counting on your cooperation and professionalism, despite the media frenzy surrounding the case, and would like to ask you not to be influenced by biased and unfounded opinions that have nothing to do with the trial.

He cleared his throat and picked up a piece of paper.

- The accused is charged with the following counts: manslaughter, murder in the first degree, unlawful use of Quirks on public highways, violation of a previous legal restriction on the use of the accused's Quirks on public highways, willful concealment of the nature of the individual's Quirk without an attempt to correct it with the appropriate public authorities.

He turned to Nezu.

- Lawyer, if you would

Nezu, surprisingly serious, rose from his chair and crossed his amrs behind his back.

His eyes rested on each of the members present in the room before he began his argument.

- We plead not guilty to the following charges: murder in the first degree, unlawful use of Quirks on public streets, and violation of a previous legal restriction on the use of the defendant's Quirks on public streets.

The opposing party became agitated, but said nothing.

- To the following charges: manslaughter, willful concealment of the nature of the individual's Quirks without attempting to correct it with the appropriate public authorities, we plead mitigating circumstances.

Then Nezu launched into a speech whose power of argument and evidence surprised me in both finesse and weight.

He produced several classified medical documents from I-Island scientists on the nature of Quirks and their tendency to control their owners, rather than the other way around.

He explained that the "unfortunate hangar incident" was an event that could not have been avoided had my Quirks acted on their own, whether I wanted them to or not, and that a second Quirk awakening would have occurred.

He claimed psychological trauma for my abuse, and presented my post-event psychological evaluation, which described a child who was "worried, stressed, and afraid of new attempts at his life again".

He added that I had been under psychological care ever since, that I hadn't missed a monthly session in five years, and presented certificates from my psychologist who considered me "psychologically stable and fit to live in society".

He portrayed me as a young man who had had a difficult childhood, but who had done his best to survive the " misfortunes inflicted by life" and who had recovered by entering the most prestigious Heroic School in the country.

He spoke of my willingness to serve my country, to be of service to others, and of my growing interest in Japan's armed forces, which I would join "as soon as I graduated".

He mentioned the White Horse incident, shortly after the 'tragic events in the hangar', and how 'without his presence, the Hero duo would not have survived, leaving their only child an orphan'.

He presented a document on the honor of the two former Heroes involved, who had been in contact with me, and swore that they 'hadn't seen a boy so committed to the future of his country since All Might himself'.

He mentioned my 'decisive actions' during the attack on the summer camp, which had bought enough time for all my 'comrades' to be rescued, leading to my kidnapping by the villain, the mere mention of which always sent shivers down the spine of the country.

He recalled my more than voluntary participation in the recent 'Tokyo terrorist attack' and subtly reminded everyone that without my presence, many civilians would have died that day.

Then Nezu pulled out a stack of testimonials from a bunch of heroes I'd never met, all mentioning my 'heroic spirit', 'unparalleled altruism' and 'willingness to spread goodness'.

He spoke for almost an hour without being interrupted or questioned about the origin or circumstances of the acquisition of this or that document, even those from I-Island.

The opposition became agitated again, and I suddenly realized that it wasn't because Nezu's words irritated them, but because a mosquito was circling them and they were trying to swat it discreetly.

The Prefect was fanning himself with a leaf, his eyes glassy, looking at Nezu and nodding at half-regular intervals to show he was listening.

But it was dad's calmness, the quiet certainty of his gaze, that convinced me that the whole trial was a sham, that I'd already been declared innocent and that I'd get out of here without any problems.

As if the prosecution wanted to agree with me, they proved to be poorly organized and clumsy in what they had to say, their arguments poorly developed and already countered by Nezu in his earlier diatribe.

After nearly three hours of proceedings, including the recess, the trial ended, the prefect found me not guilty, and the session was adjourned.

The young man in charge of recording the proceedings cut the tape, greeted everyone, and left first.

- Mister Endeavor, the prefect asked, adjusting his glasses. My little girl adores you. Do you think it would be possible to get an autograph? But no photos, of course. I don't want this to end up in the press.

He smiled.

- Of course, said my father

He signed three photo albums and a 'Pantheon of Heroes' containing the signatures of about twenty other heroes.

As for Nezu, he chatted quietly with the prosecutors, rocking back and forth.

- Amusing, wasn't it?

I looked up at the Hero Commission employee who had taken out her electronic cigarette.

She exhaled a puff of smoke, her eyes sweeping over all the protagonists in our little gathering.

- First time at a mock trial, huh? Always surprising when you don't expect it.

Her body, her hair, everything about her secreted smoke, as if she were made of ash.

- The real trial is out there, she said, pointing to the window where I knew there would be a crowd of angry people with signs. If you win public opinion before the results of the trial are announced, the matter is settled.

Then she looked at me out of the corner of her eye, her lips glued to her cigarette as if she needed it to breathe.

- You don't talk much, do you?

When we got home that night, I hovered around my dad, passed by his office several times, which was left ajar - and where I knew he'd be working late to make up for lost time - and hesitated to come in.

It was the original version of Lorenzacccio, cover torn, pages dog-eared and yellowed, that I had given him for his birthday more than ten years ago, lying three-quarters of the way through on a corner of his desk, that drew me in.

- Do you need anything?

My throat was dry and my eyelids heavy with fatigue.

- I wanted to thank you. For the trial, and for All for One.

He studied me silently, and I stood still, straight and proud like the worthy son of Endeavor that I was, refusing to let him see how much I regretted everything.

He looked down at his work again, moistened his thumb, and curtly turned over a sheet of paper.

- We're family. This is what we do.

He said nothing more, his pen scratching coldly across the paper as if I were already gone.

- I'll tell you all about it one day

His pen froze in the air.

- I just need time. I need to finish...

... covering our tracks.

- ...something I started. Then I'll tell you everything.

His eyes were glued to his desk.

- How long will it take?

I hesitated, wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans.

- Just under a year.

A fly flew by.

He started writing again.

- Good night, Shoto

- I want to tell you everything. I really do. But I need time.

He ignored me.

I felt pathetic, desperate, but more than anything, I hated that my status as a child prodigy, as the boy who could never disappoint, had been taken away from me so suddenly and violently.

- I trust you. It has nothing to do with that. I just need time.

Otherwise, this story might end with his death, and I refused to let that happen.

- Good night, Shoto

I waited for him to add something, to get angry, to yell at me to get out.

But he remained silent as I watched him work in silence, as if I'd become nothing more than an object in the background.

I left, disappointed, gently closing the door behind me.

I rubbed the bridge of my nose, feeling a migraine coming on.

Then half a dozen new clones sprang from my body, scattering like salt in the wind.

I'll take a break when all of this ends.

*

Author's note :

Any guess what Shoto's big project is ?

If you want to support me/read ahead of schedule, you can do so on my P@treon, Nar_cisseENG

See you in the next update everyone !