"I Reincarnated in Boku no Hero but They Forgot to Give Me a System"

Chapter 12 — The Temporary Separation

A few days had passed since the intense meeting at the publisher's office, but the Todoroki household was enveloped in an unusual, suffocating silence.

The tension wasn't just in the words left unsaid or the spaces between them. It seemed to seep into the very walls, to linger on the ceiling, to weigh down the still air that refused to move. It was as if the home itself was holding its breath, bracing for what was to come.

Rei Todoroki, her eyes heavy with exhaustion and worry, gathered her children in the main living room. One by one, they took their seats, each settling into the worn furniture as if accustomed to gatherings that ended in pain and tears.

Fuyumi, the eldest sister, sat quietly with her hands tightly clasped in her lap, her fingers gripping each other with the delicate desperation of someone trying to hold herself together. Her eyes flickered with unspoken sorrow, as if bracing for a storm she already knew was coming.

Natsuo, the middle sibling, avoided meeting anyone's gaze, his eyes fixed somewhere far beyond the room. His jaw was clenched so tightly it was as though he was biting back words he didn't dare speak aloud.

Shoto, the youngest, a small boy burdened with too much for his age, silently edged closer to their mother. He grabbed the hem of her dress with a grip that was both frightened and pleading — a child's silent prayer against the unknown.

Aoi, however, was not among them.

He sat apart on the back porch, his body weighted down by the heavy training weights strapped around his arms and legs. The marks of countless grueling sessions were still etched into his muscles, evidence of his relentless determination. Yet, in that moment, the heaviest weight he carried was not physical — it was the ache in his chest, the burden of his family's fractured heart.

Rei took a long, steadying breath. Her voice wavered, fragile but firm as she finally spoke:

— Kids… Mom is going to live away for a while.

Just until I can sort things out with your father.

No one begged her to stay.

No tears spilled from anyone's eyes.

Instead, a crushing silence followed — one that struck deeper than any cry ever could.

They all understood. Every one of them.

If she stayed… if she remained under the same roof… something worse could happen.

Fuyumi lowered her gaze, swallowing a shudder she refused to release.

Natsuo bit down on his lip, turning his face away as if to hide from the truth.

Shoto trembled softly, yet his fingers clung tighter to the fabric of their mother's dress, as if that small hold could stave off the inevitable separation.

From the top of the stairs, a shadow lingered.

Endeavor stood motionless, like a statue carved from stone, silently watching the scene unfold before him.

Rei met his eyes for a few long seconds — an unspoken exchange that carried everything: hope, despair, a plea for something to change. This was their last chance. One final moment before everything would shift.

But she remained silent, waiting for him to speak.

Anything.

"I will change."

"I won't push Shoto anymore."

"Please stay."

But nothing came. No words, no gestures, no sign of regret or reconciliation.

His obsession was a wall too high and too thick to climb.

And the only bridge left between them… crumbled quietly in the weight of his silence.

So, without another word, Rei simply turned her back and walked away.

And he just stood there.

Watching.

Not moving a single muscle.

On the porch, Aoi closed his eyes tightly.

He still felt the heavy weight of the training in his bones, the burn in his muscles — but this moment carried a different kind of heaviness. A silent, deeper pain that gnawed at his spirit.

"This family… it's full of problems," he thought bitterly, a trace of painful irony coloring his mind.

He leaned his head against the cool wooden wall of the porch, letting the gentle breeze brush softly across his face.

For now, at least, his mother was safe.

Far away from the stifling atmosphere inside.

Out of reach from the shadow that burned relentlessly within those walls.

And he… he still had so much to do.

Because this wasn't the end.

It was only the beginning of a long, difficult journey.

A journey to fix what was broken.

To heal wounds that ran deeper than anyone dared to admit.

To protect those he loved from the pain he couldn't yet stop.

Aoi opened his eyes and stared out at the fading light of the day.

He knew one thing for certain:

No matter how heavy the burden, no matter how dark the shadow,

He would carry it all.

Because family was worth every ounce of strength he had left.

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