Notes: I. Love. Writing. Todoroki. I've had most of this backstory in my head for a while, ever since I wrote the first chapter ages ago, hence why I really wanted to expand more on this fic. I'm really glad I did. Thanks to EmeraldWaves for being so encouraging while I wrote this!

Instead of hanging around the office like she normally did on Saturday, Uraraka clocked out when her shift ended. If Iida thought it was strange, he didn't say anything. Actually, she got the sense that he approved her leaving. It was important to maintain a balance, which meant having a life outside of work. If she was gathering her things to leave the moment she could, then she obviously had plans she couldn't be late for. He would stay behind, but she also knew that he took his older brother to rehab on Saturdays, so it didn't make sense for him to leave.

"Oh, someone's leaving in a hurry!" Kaminari called out. His right arm was still in a sling, recovering from what he had been shot during the bank robbery. It had been a little worse than they'd originally thought, the bullet having struck bone. She hadn't been able to tell at the time. Clammy and sweaty as he had been from the effort of staying awake after getting shot, he'd still been able to move around and watch her every move. "You got a hot date or something?"

Uraraka smiled at him indulgently. "Or something."

Kaminari whistled. "Lying is bad, you know! Maybe Bakugou should check your score."

Even though she knew it was a bad idea, Uraraka's eyes flickered over to Bakugou, who had returned from his own brief leave last week. He was sitting at his desk, focused on her instead of the camera feeds on his computer. It was hard to tell how he felt from his gaze, but it was fiery as usual. She thought… Maybe she was making things up, but she couldn't help but think that he looked disappointed. Angry? No, he usually looked like that. This was different. He didn't look pleased. It made her feel a little guilty.

She could just ask him - straight up ask what he was thinking - but she knew he wouldn't tell her, just as she knew he wouldn't open up to her about why he was an Enforcer. He wanted her to figure it out on her own and only then would he maybe talk to her about it. For however loud and brash he was, Bakugou was a private person. A part of her did feel guilty for prying, but she needed to know more about the people working underneath her. She knew everyone else's except for his backstory.

What made him tick? Why was he the way he was now? How had he become an Enforcer? He was so good at his job. How was he that good? And could she truly trust him or was her care misplaced?

Bakugou didn't reach for a Dominator to check her score like he had done nearly every day in the past before the bank robbery turned massacre. He simply turned his attention back to the computer screen and got back to acting like he was working.

"Well, even if it isn't a date, you must have plans if you're actually leaving on time instead of hanging out with us," Mina pointed out, leaning forward in her seat. Her eyes were shining brightly, a hopeful look on her face. She was such a friendly person. Uraraka bet she had gone out every Saturday night with her friends. "Who's it with? An old friend, classmate, co-worker?" Without meaning to, Uraraka stiffened, which was exactly the wrong thing to do. Mina fully admitted to not being the smartest of the Enforcers, but she knew people very well. "Is it someone we know?"

"Maybe," Uraraka conceded, an embarrassed smile on her face, "but that's all I'm telling you!"

Mina huffed and flopped dramatically in her chair. "Fine! But I wanna know how your date goes! Tell us all the juicy details on Monday. I'm living vicariously through you and so far you're almost as boring as Iida."

Iida cleared his throat. "I am a professional-"

"Boring!" Mina interrupted.

"Total snoozefest," Kaminari agreed.

Deku gave him a sheepish grin. "You could stand to get out more."

Iida looked positively betrayed, gaping with his mouth open a little. All Uraraka could do was pat him on the shoulder and walk out of the office. She didn't look back at Bakugou, no matter how much she wanted to right now. She didn't think he was paying attention to her anyway - or at least he was trying to appear like he wasn't.

He and the other Enforcers didn't have the same freedom and ability to do whatever they wanted on their nights off. The apartments they lived in were nice, but the building was a glorified prison and they all knew it. They couldn't go on dates or go out for drinks with friends. It wasn't fair of her and Iida to have those chances and not take advantage of them. What was the point of being free if they were going to act like they were chained to their job as well?

Once she got to her small apartment, Uraraka worked on figuring out what to wear. She had a little under two hours to get ready, but that didn't mean anything. Wear something very nice. What did that mean? Also, what if she didn't have anything nice enough to wear? What would Mina wear to something like this? Sighing to herself, Uraraka flipped through her options until she finally settled on what she considered her nicest outfit, a dark floral dress, but then spent her entire showering wondering if the pattern was too much. Maybe she should go for a black dress.

Also, why was she getting so stressed out about something that didn't actually feel like a date? They were just trying to keep up appearances so people wouldn't get suspicious. (No, it was so the Sybil System wouldn't get suspicious. Her stomach turned at the thought, but she ignored it. Why was Todoroki acting so paranoid about this?)

It was a little after 6:30 when she finished getting ready. She sat down on the couch and turned on one of her favorite television shows, but didn't concentrate on it much. By the time seven rolled around, she couldn't have said what the episode had been about. When the doorbell for her apartment rang, she startled on the couch, but then got up to check her comm and saw that it was Todoroki at the door.

Uraraka looked around her messy apartment. It wouldn't be rude if she simply met him outside, right?

It was nice enough out for her not to need a jacket, so she simply grabbed her purse and phone and then locked up her place and rushed down the stairs. She opened the door, somewhat flushed from hurrying, right when Todoroki had been about to ring the bell again. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly at her sudden appearance, but then it was gone, replaced by that guarded expression that looked so carefully placed on his face.

"You look nice," Todoroki told her.

"Oh, thanks." Uraraka blushed. "You look…" Devastatingly handsome. "Good?"

"Been a while?" Todoroki asked conversationally as he held out an arm.

Uraraka nodded. "You could say that." She took his and let him guide her to his car, which was parked in front of the building. Oh, it was nice - all black and sleek. She had kind of been expecting him to use one of the department issued cars like Iida. He was also really good at keeping up pretenses, especially when he opened the passenger door for her, but then the cameras installed at the doors of apartment buildings were directly connected to the Sybil System for safety reasons. "What about you?"

"I go on dates all the time," Todoroki told her as he slid into the driver's seat.

That caught Uraraka off guard. "Really?"

"No." Todoroki started the car. Uraraka gawked at him as he gave her a faintly amused look. She might've been insulted with him for tricking her like that if the expression didn't throw her off even more. Wasn't he supposed to be super serious all the time? That was what she had heard about him from everyone - that he lacked a sense of humor and didn't care about showing emotion. "I fooled you though, didn't I?"

As he angled the car back into the street and began to drive, Uraraka got the sense that a lot of what she had learned about her predecessor from others was wrong. Well, maybe it wasn't wrong so much as incomplete. The Enforcers on her team were observant, even Kaminari in his own way, and surely Iida would have known his partner better. He might have been very professional, as he said often, but he was very kind and went out of his way to help people. However, he had been the one to tell her that Todoroki requested a transfer without giving him an explanation or any sort of warning. How could so many people be off about him?

"Why are you doing this?" Uraraka asked abruptly. Todoroki looked her out of the corner of his mismatched eyes, but he didn't respond. "I mean, I get why you didn't want to talk there, but we could easily have the conversation here now. It might even be safer here. The cameras outside wouldn't be able to get a perfect read on us here and there would be no audio."

"A private conversation in a parked car could be of note," Todoroki pointed out, "especially after you asked me so directly about Bakugou and why I'm no longer on the team." He changed lanes with ease, never once slowing down. He drove exactly at the speed limit and never fully looked away from the road. "It would be suspicious."

"Are you that paranoid?" Uraraka asked. "The Sybil System would know you don't mean any arm. I was the one that asked questions and my hue is fine."

"My hue is not," Todoroki responded. His tone was so even that it made Uraraka blink. Most people would panic over the idea of their hue being clouded and yet he seemed more than accepting. "I can't be too careful at this point, even if my overall score is low again. Plus, I've been under a little more scrutiny since I - ah, what was it? - requested to transfer Divisions. If anyone thinks I might cross the line, I could lose my job."

Uraraka paled. "Is your score so high that you're in danger of becoming an Enforcer?"

Todoroki shook his head. "No, not anymore. Besides, I'd be taken off the force before it comes to that. The Chief won't allow it."

At first, Uraraka didn't understand. There was so much hidden between the lines and just under the surface with Todoroki that she had to do math to figure out things. When it finally did hit her, the realization made her feel stupid. How had she not realized it before? "The Chief is your father." Todoroki nodded his head. "I figured you were related because of your names, but I didn't realize the relation was that close. Is he why you're an Inspector?"

"He wouldn't have it any other way," Todoroki explained. "He wants me to become the Chief after he retires, but it's not looking good." He glanced into the rearview mirror before turning on his turn signal and getting into the right lane in order to make a turn. "He had the same hopes with my older siblings, but after my oldest brother's score rose too high before he could even become an Inspector…" He cleared his throat. "It's all on me."

"That…" Uraraka bit her lip and looked down at her hands clutching her purse tightly in her lap. "That must be a lot of pressure on your shoulders. It would be difficult for anyone to maintain their score."

"Not you," Todoroki interjected. She turned to look at him, a somewhat alarmed expression on her face. He kept his eyes on the road. "I looked up your score. Besides a few small spikes - which seem to correspond with a certain Enforcer - you're better than good." The alarm turned to shock. "Yes, I know, it's a bit...invasive, but I'll admit that my father being who he is sometimes comes in handy. At any rate, your score is checked multiple times a day without you ever knowing, so is it that big of a deal?"

It didn't sit right with her, but he had a point. "It's still kind of rude."

"Most definitely," Todoroki agreed without missing a beat. He wasn't ashamed at all about his behavior. To him, it was little more than a routine check. "Your score is impressive though. It's gone up a few points here and there since you became an Inspector, but that's to be expected. I would've been more concerned if it didn't. That would've made me suspicious."

"I thought a relatively flat score was a good thing," Uraraka said.

"It is - until it isn't," Todoroki responded. He made another turn, his hands effortlessly gliding over the steering wheel. It was graceful. "Have you heard the rumors about people who are asymptomatic?" Uraraka shook her head. What in the world was that? It sounded like… Well, it sounded like he meant there were people who didn't have the symptoms that showed when they were likely to commit crimes. "Regardless if you have or not, they're true. There are people out there that the Sybil System can't read. Did you know that you were monitored and under suspicion for a while?"

A breath of air was caught in Uraraka's throat. "What?"

"The entire history of a person's Psycho Pass score can be accessed," Todoroki continued. "The Sybil System uses it to base whether or not there is a likelihood of a person's score rising above the criminal level. If it decides there is, even before a person is anywhere near exceeding the 100 points, they're monitored more extensively. It's why we're alerted so quickly when a person's score does go past the point of no return. They're already being watched."

"That's…" Uraraka didn't know what to say. It was horrific. It was like the System had already judged people and declared them beyond saving before they even had the chance. Of course, it stood that many people's scores who were put on that watch list never went above the mark, but they would be tagged for the rest of their lives - and they would never even know it. That sounded horribly unfair to her and an even grosser invasion. They gave away most of the rights of their privacy for the sake of protection, but that didn't mean they should be categorized and labeled as a potential criminal when they were miles away from it.

Todoroki found a spot to park along the street, parallel parking with ease in between two expensive-looking cars. She caught a glimpse of his eyes in the rearview mirror before they flickered away to pay attention to what he was doing. A ding on one of these vehicles would no doubt send a civilian's score up.

"Sounds terrible, doesn't it?" Todoroki said as he turned off his car. She nodded mutely, still unable to come up with the right words to say. "It goes both ways. People's whose scores stand out because they don't move are watched as well, especially since evidence of asymptomatic people came out a few years ago. You do realize that your score is more of an anomaly, don't you?"

"No, I…" Uraraka furrowed her brow. "It's been like this my whole life. I don't know why."

Todoroki shrugged. "There probably isn't a reason, to be honest. Some people just have a better handle on their scores than others without even really doing anything." He gave her a ghost of a smile. "But it certainly makes you interesting, so I figured I might as well ask you out since you're so clearly fishing for information."

"You know, I heard you were straight-laced and didn't like to have any fun," Uraraka told him.

"Let me guess," Todoroki replied, "Bakugou told you that." She neither had to say anything or nod her head to confirm he was right. He knew just by looking at her. "I expected him to do his job. He liked to test the boundaries. I wasn't fond of the idea of having to kill one of my Enforcers. We agreed to disagree for the most part." He inclined his head to the building on the corner of the block. "Shall we?"

When they stepped out of the car, Uraraka felt instantly exposed. Now that she knew the Sybil System had been keeping an even closer eye on her, it made her anxious, even though she knew that she had nothing to worry about. It was watching her because she had nothing to worry about and it knew that somehow. A part of her wasn't so sure that Todoroki knew so much because of the extra access he had thanks to his father being the Chief. This knowledge sounded a lot like something he wasn't supposed to know and had found out on his own anyway.

The restaurant was a lot fancier than the places she normally ate out at. She never would've come here on her own. No wonder he had told her to dress nicely. It was elegant and classy, definitely meant for the elite. She wouldn't be able to afford a full meal here on her Inspector salary. Todoroki couldn't either, but then he came from money. Not only did his father get paid well, but she had heard a rumor in the CID that his family was old money and they had been wealthy for years. He didn't need a job, to be honest, but apparently his father thought otherwise.

Even to the point where he had already pushed one of his children past the breaking point.

Uraraka watched Todoroki out of the corner of her eyes as he spoke with the people in the restaurant. He was polite and impassive at the same time, letting nothing through his veneer, but he had requested a transfer after coming to blows with Bakugou and almost ruining his psycho pass score. She never would've been able to tell looking at him now. He looked absolutely in control of every aspect of his emotions and thoughts. She would have guessed that his hue was even clearer than hers. But what was it really?

Then again, she had been taken aback by Deku's score as well. 105. It didn't make sense. He was so compassionate and kind-hearted. Never judge a book by its cover - and never judge a person by their score. That was what she lived by, especially after joining the CID. If she had done those things, she would've condemned Bakugou long ago and he most likely wouldn't be alive now for her to be asking about him.

As they walked through the restaurant to their table, Uraraka picked at her dress. Had she worn something nice enough? It wasn't even a real date, but she was suddenly stressing over making him look bad. Only when Todoroki leaned in and muttered, "You look fine, so stop worrying or you might mess up your hue," did she stop. She shot him a tiny glare, which only seemed to amuse him. He did have a sense of humor, after all. She let him pull out her chair and push her closer to the table before he sat down and ordered a bottle of wine.

"You don't have to go all out for this," Uraraka pointed out. Because it wasn't a real date and they both knew it.

Todoroki ran a finger around the lip of his currently empty wine glass. "Might as well make it look the part and have fun while doing it." He smiled at her, but it didn't seem real. "Did you know there are actually fewer cameras in the more upper-class parts of cities? It makes sense, considering that there's statistically less crime, but it's very classist. And it is also why 'white collar' crimes aren't detected as quickly. There's a tad bit more...wiggle room with the Sybil's monitoring here."

"That's why you asked me out and took me here," Uraraka said, "so we could get away with talking more freely without looking suspicious. You were right: a date in public is a much more covert than a secret conversation in a car." She leaned back in her seat and eyed him curiously. "You sure do know how to make a girl feel special."

"Well, we could've taken this back to my apartment," Todoroki quipped. Uraraka flushed. "I didn't think so. Plus, you get a free meal out of it; I get to have my favorite wine; we share some information that the government might not like us to know. We both win."

It still didn't set right with Uraraka. "How can you do this knowing it might raise your score or cloud-?" She clamped her mouth shut when their waiter came to the table, opening the bottle of wine and pouring them each a glass upon Todoroki's instruction. She watched the deep red liquid spill into her glass.

After ordering an appetizer, Todoroki picked up his glass of wine and said, "Cheers," before taking a sip. He set the glass back down before she could even think to pick up hers. "To answer your question - ah, that's what I needed after this hellish week - I don't. But three months worth of therapy would suggest that I'm back to normal and my score actually dropped to a safe level and hasn't risen since my return to the CID."

Uraraka paused before taking a sip of the wine. "Three months of therapy…?"

"I didn't transfer to Division 4 immediately," Todoroki explained. "I took an extended leave to be with my sister when she got ill - or so I've been told. My father didn't even bother telling me the cover story he came up with after I was forced to go on leave to receive emergency therapy for my score."

"Did you...did you not request a transfer?" Uraraka asked.

Todoroki shook his head. "No, I did not. I wanted to stay in Division 2. My father took me off when he found out I had stopped attending my ordered therapy sessions with the CID's psychiatrist and my score made an abrupt jump to 98."

She actually gasped. His score had gotten that dangerously close to teetering over the edge and he was still working as an Inspector? Emergency therapy might have been putting it nicely. Some people were put in facilities for the rest of their lives when their score got that high, too afraid they would turn into full-on deviants if they continued to live in the real world.

It wasn't any of her business, but Uraraka couldn't help but want to know. "What's your score now?"

"A cool 68, which is nothing on yours, of course," Todoroki told her without hesitation. She gawked at him in shock. "I know. It doesn't seem possible. No one's score has dropped that dramatically before." He picked up the wine glass again, but didn't drink out of it. She still held hers in the air, not having tried it yet. "It concerned the therapists too. They thought I might've gone into shock or something equally terrible. It wasn't that. I just… I don't know. I accepted my life as it was. I got over things I'd tried to bury. I let go of everything bringing my score up - and that did include Bakugou."

Uraraka finally took a sip of the wine. It was drier than she normally liked, but it had a deep, rich flavor to it that made her like it anyway. It didn't take sour taste out of her mouth completely. "So he did cause your score to raise and nearly force you out."

"He was a part of it, to be sure," Todoroki told her honestly, "but I wouldn't say he was the reason it happened. There were a lot of reasons and, quite frankly, my score was raising before I joined Division 2 after Midoriya was forced to become an Enforcer. He just made the progression a lot...faster, is all."

"You don't sound mad at him," Uraraka pointed out carefully.

"I'm not." He took another sip of his wine. She gave him a look of disbelief. "I'm not - truly. I'm sure everyone thinks I am, Bakugou included, but I'm not. We had our differences and we argued all the time. I did hate him for a time, but, what records can't tell you, is that I once took a bullet for him. It hit me in the shoulder, but it still hurt like hell. He was furious with me about that - screaming about it needlessly raising my score and I was being stupid. I didn't want anyone under me to die. It was important to me that they didn't die. He didn't understand that."

Uraraka allowed a small smile to grace her face. "He did the same to me. After he saved my life, it forced his score to jump higher and Iida almost…" She took a deep breath and set her glas down. "I couldn't let him die, not after what he'd done. He had known it would raise his score to a dangerous level, but he did it anyway. How could I let him die? He's not just a dog like a lot of people view Enforcers. He's not a bad person."

"An asshole, but not a bad person," Todoroki agreed. "He was one of the people who was monitored for nearly his entire life and flagged to be watched more." That didn't surprise her. It would've shocked her more to find out that the Sybil System hadn't marked him as one to watch. His volatile behavior spoke for him and, according to the others on the team, he had been like that for as long as they'd known him. "It's a wonder, considering he was marked at an early age, that he was allowed to become an Inspector."

Uraraka's heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. "What?"

"Ah," Todoroki continued thoughtfully, seemingly unaware of her world crashing down, "he did have top marks. A near-perfect grade. The Sybil System must've okayed it or the people at the CID got greedy. They wanted him as an Inspector and they knew, even if his score rose too high, he'd make one hell of an Enforcer." He shook his head and looked at her. How could he talk so calmly about all of this? "They weren't wrong. He's one of the best Enforcers that I've ever seen."

"The Sybil System knew the stress of being an Inspector would force his score to rise too high," Uraraka said in a hollow tone, "and it used that to its advantage."

Her heart beat slowly as she was forced to swallow down the truth. Todoroki nodded. Bakugou had been an Inspector? That must have been why he and Midoriya seemed to know each other so well. They must have worked together as Inspectors before their scores ruined their lives. Had they been partners before Midoriya partnered with Iida? Did Iida know this? He had to know, but Bakugou being an Inspector wasn't in his personnel file. Why?

"It's there to do a job and protect us," Todoroki told her, "but the System can still eat people alive to sustain itself. We will always be in need of Enforcers and the Inspectors pointed to keep them on a leash. It got both of those in Bakugou and I'm sure it figured one day he would use up all his usefulness and it would be rid of him." He tilted his head. "Too bad you saved him. I'm sure the higher-ups are mad about that."

"Has your father said anything about it?"

"I wouldn't know if he has," Todoroki replied. "We haven't spoken in a while. It turns out he was one of the reasons why my hue was so clouded." He didn't look bothered at all. Uraraka couldn't imagine not talking with her parents or them being part of why her score was high. It made her feel sick. "I actually convinced my therapist to send my father a letter stating that I needed space from him for the sake of my score and mental health - and he's the one that sent me there to begin with. Best thing he's done for me."

Uraraka stared at him. "How can you just…?"

"Talk about it like it's nothing?" Todoroki shrugged. "I guess I just figured it wasn't worth getting worked up over. I used to take everything in and bottle it up. Add to the bottle, close it up, until there was no room. Of course my score was going to get ruined that way. To everyone else, it looked like I had the perfect score, but in truth, I wasn't dealing with anything. I was a disaster waiting to happen."

The appetizer arrived, but Uraraka didn't feel very hungry anymore. She hadn't even looked at the menu. When their waiter asked if they were ready to order, she opened her mouth to tell him just that, but Todoroki ordered for the both of them. Beforehand, that might've irritated her - him assuming what she wanted - but honestly, she didn't feel much like thinking about food. He must have known that and extended a helping hand by doing it for her.

"I had no idea that Bakugou was an Inspector," Uraraka said quietly.

"One of the best in that as well," Todoroki said. "I was on a different Division, but everyone talked about him. He threw himself headfirst into every case, worked himself to the bone, went at it hard every time." He picked at the appetizer with his chopsticks and then waved at her to try it as well. She wasn't hungry, but she picked up her chopsticks and tried some of it anyway. It was absolutely delicious. She didn't care. "The problem is that working that way as an Inspector is a very dangerous thing to do. Midoriya got onto him all the time about it."

"Ah, so they were partners," Uraraka surmised. "I figured once you said Bakugou was an Inspector."

Todoroki sighed. "They were both the best and worst paired up Inspectors the CID has seen. Their success rate was higher than any other Division, but they had more incidents and complaints filed against them as well. Bakugou ran his Enforcers to the ground. He didn't like easing up. He pushed them to do their jobs the best of their ability - and they got the job done, but being an Inspector is a lot more delicate of a job than people think."

Uraraka certainly didn't like the implications of that statement. "There's a give and take."

"There is," Todoroki agreed, "but Bakugou never saw it that way. His Enforcers would do their jobs and they would do it well. He didn't take no for an answer. The higher-ups liked that about him." It hurt. Uraraka's stomach twisted. When she had figured out that Todoroki had information on Bakugou, she hadn't expected to hear any of this. "He didn't care much for them. He didn't care much for the therapy sessions Inspectors are required to attend. He didn't care much for maintaining a proper balance in his team. They burned through Enforcers despite Midoriya's best efforts."

"And the Sybil System and the higher-ups didn't care," Uraraka finished.

"No," Todoroki responded flatly.

Uraraka's grip on her chopsticks tightened. "Do you know why or how his score went over the mark?"

"I never asked," Todoroki said, shaking his head. "It's this unspoken rule that Inspectors never do when one of their own falls to the other side. If their partner is any good, they won't speak either. And everyone knew that Midoriya was very protective of Bakugou. No one wanted him as an Enforcer and, despite the fact that it would raise his score no matter what, he wanted Bakugou on his team. He's always been good like that." A small frown appeared on his face. It made him look genuinely sad. "It's a shame what happened to him. I really thought he was going to make it - become one of the longest-running Inspectors and peacefully retire to the countryside to teach one day."

A deep sadness gripped Uraraka's heart at the image of an older Deku teaching some sort of lesson, perhaps on criminology or psycho pass scores themselves. He was so knowledgeable about them. Whenever they were given a mission, he was always able to quickly analyze the situation and the criminal to figure out how to apprehend them. Despite the fact that Bakugou and he often butted heads, he rarely disagreed with Deku and now she knew why. At one point, it had been the two of them running the team.

"A lot of people blame Bakugou for what happened to Deku," Uraraka said sadly.

"I'm sure Midoriya takes a lot of offense to that," Todoroki replied. He did. An Enforcer on another team had made a snide comment about it before. Bakugou hadn't given a shit and ignored him, but it was one of the first times that Uraraka had seen Deku angry. He didn't like it when anyone insulted a member of their Division. "It takes away the responsibility he holds over his own actions and behavior."

"I was stunned to find out he was an Enforcer," Uraraka said. Just like she was stunned to learn that Bakugou used to be an Inspector. Now that she knew, they made sense. Bakugou's high score contrasted with Midoriya's relatively low one, but they were once again partners in a sense. They worked well together and they did their jobs even better.

"When I was on the team, his score would occasionally drop below 100," Todoroki admitted. "No one likes to talk about how it's actually possible for a person's score to go under 100 after crossing the line. It shouldn't do that. Once you commit a crime or go past the mark, you will always be one. It's extraordinarily rare, but it happens."

Uraraka swallowed down the lump in her throat, somehow managing to keep tears out of her eyes. "It's not fair. None of this is fair."

"The Sybil System is based on fairness," Todoroki countered, although she knew he didn't mean it. That was what they had been told their entire lives. The system existed to protect them. It existed to keep them safe and allow them to live their lives in peace. It analyzed the population fairly in order to bring them happiness.

Unfortunately, that meant some people had to be sacrificed. They didn't fit the parameters. Plus, the Sybil System required Enforcers in order to work. It needed criminals in order its rule to be, well, enforced. They couldn't have a society in which criminals didn't exist.

"If you start crying, people are going to think I'm a very poor date," Todoroki said dryly.

"I'm sorry." Uraraka picked up the wine again and drank nearly half of it in one go to recover. She tried her best not to let the wine slosh in the glass as she set it back down.

"Don't be," Todoroki replied. "It's a lot to take in."

Uraraka laughed, the sound a little more watery than she would've liked. "I think I'm the poor date. I've made you do nearly most of the talking." He gave her a small smile. "How about we suspend any further talk of this until after dinner? I kind of feel like I need a break from this."

"Agreed."

"Although...I do have one more question if you don't mind." Uraraka bit her lip again. He nodded for her to continue. "I'm curious: if you don't hate or blame Bakugou, then what was that last fight about that everyone thinks spurred your decision to transfer?"

"Back to Bakugou now, are we? I take you on a date and you ask about another man the whole time." There was a hint of amusement in his voice, but Uraraka thought he was using it to mask the suddenly tense way he held himself. This wasn't a comfortable thing for him to talk about, despite the nonchalant way he acted. Some things did get to him and it was clear that, even if he didn't consider Bakugou to be the cause, he still had played a role in it.

Uraraka waved a hand in the air. "I'm sorry. If you don't want to talk about it - I don't want it to mess with your hue-"

"No, it's not that," Todoroki interrupted. "Besides, there's a chance you'll come across this situation and you need to be aware of it. Not everyone can be saved, not even the innocent. Sybil's judgment is black and white and one day you will hate it. You will disagree with it. You will want to make your own choice. And you will be wrong."

"I don't…"

"We were called in on a domestic dispute," Todoroki explained in a monotone voice. She could tell it was on purpose. He was forcing all of the emotion out of his voice. "Apparently the father had been abusing his family for a while, but because he was unemployed, he rarely left their house where his score could be monitored. Even then, his score wasn't exceptionally high, not even after he got blackout drunk and killed his wife."

Uraraka lifted a hand to her mouth. This certainly wasn't a dinner appropriate conversation, but it was something she needed to hear. Todoroki was right about that, as much as she hated it. She hated it whenever their Dominators were ordered to go into lethal mode. She wanted to believe that life was precious. She wanted to believe that no one actually deserved to die - that their place in it meant something and they would be missed. However, even she had been forced to end someone's life for the greater good. She had cried in the shower that night and returned to work the next day to do her job all over again.

"She had already bled out by the time we arrived on the scene and he had passed out on the couch, completely unaware of what he'd done," Todoroki continued. He tightened his hand into a fist, putting all of his tension in it and then releasing it out of his body when he stretched his fingers out on top of the table. "They had an eight-year-old son. He witnessed the whole thing. When we walked into the house, we found him holding the gun and pointing it at his father."

"No, no, it didn't," Uraraka said, quietly horrified. She had to steady herself. They were supposed to be on a date. She couldn't cry in public while on a date. Maybe they should have gone to his place and let everyone assume that they were doing something less innocent. Then she could've cried in private. Uraraka had never believed in stifling her emotions. Maybe that was part of the reason why her hue remained such a soft, beautiful, light pink.

Todoroki let out a breath. "It did. My Dominator immediately went into lethal mode. He was only eight. He had a black eye and was bleeding from his lip. He was crying so hard that he had snot everywhere and was shaking. His father hit him and his mother died trying to protect him. Now we were going to kill him anyway and her death was for nothing." He lifted a hand and gingerly touched the burn scar on the left side of his face. No one knew how he had gotten it and no one was brave or stupid enough to ask, but he'd had it before he joined the CID. "I couldn't do it - I broke down completely - so Bakugou did it for me. I lost control and basically attacked him. Midoriya and Iida had to pull me away from him and restrain me."

"He was a child," Uraraka said, using all of her strength to be okay. "It's...understandable why you reacted that way."

"I asked him why - why he did it - how he could do it," Todoroki said. He took a large gulp of water. His hand was shaking, but then he took a deep breath and stilled himself again. He regained control. "He said, 'Because it's my job to keep your hands clean.' I don't think I'll ever forget that. I remember thinking he was so cold. How could he be so cold? It wasn't until I was in therapy that I realized his Dominator had been shaking. I asked Midoriya about it later when I came back. Bakugou threw up in the alley outside after. He wasn't cold at all. He was just...protecting me."

Uraraka let out her own shaky breath as something came over her. A wave of understanding that somehow brought her relief even in the wake up that terrible story. "He was doing his job. An Enforcer does the work that the Inspector can't so their scores don't go too far."

"He was," Todoroki finished in agreement. "So no, I don't blame him for what happened. I had to take time off. I was out of it. If I kept working after that, I wouldn't be able to stay on as an Inspector. Bakugou knew that. Midoriya doesn't blame him either, but I think Bakugou blames himself for Midoriya's fall. That's why he's so hard on Inspectors. They have to be the best or they can't do their job right."

"At least he doesn't check my score daily anymore," Uraraka mumbled to herself.

Todoroki heard her anyway. "He's just worried about you. There's something special about you and he knows it. He's probably afraid the job will either ruin you or take that away from you."

"This is my job," Uraraka said firmly. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere but with them."

She knew this was the end of the conversation. Honestly, she was grateful. Even if it was only for an hour, she wanted to forget about everything. When she went back to work, she wouldn't be able to look at Bakugou the same and he would know something had changed. He'd be suspicious. All she could do was hope that he didn't feel as if she'd betrayed his trust.

"You're a good person, Inspector Uraraka," Todoroki told her. He turned his head to watch as their waiter carried over their food to them, his body relaxed and his face impassive once again. "This job isn't meant for good people, so please, be careful."

That was all she could do. It was her job.