Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

For a moment, Touya entertains the idea that it's all a dream, those dreams that seem realistic, only for the alarm clock to go off five minutes from getting to the best part -the best part being, that he, in all his immense generosity, kicks Enji's shin like one would kick a ball.

He blinks again, and again, and again, and again, until Enji's stupid face is no longer in his peripheral view, unfortunately, the world doesn't want to cooperate, and Enji -unfortunately- is still there, because sure enough, his dream wants to fuck him by showing him the face of the MHA character he hates the most, but something in his memory seems to object, because memories that are and are not his flash into his mind.

The version of Enji he sees, is... different, those vestiges of the man -the monster he will be- are still there, but it is essentially different, where the Enji he recognizes is a man in his full right, sharp at the edges, with flames that have peaked to their potential, this Enji is soft, as if he is still defining whether he wants his edges to be sharp or lightly sanded, eyes that are more... soft, proud, and though he's loathe to admit, happy.

Not that miserable look, carrying the filthy weight of violence, hatred and madness, this Enji is different.

But back to the memories, Touya -is he even Touya now?- is told that this is his father, the man for whom he feels that unbearable sense of wanting to please, like a child, seeking his father's praise, and Enji is that father.

It is hard not to compare this Enji Todoroki he sees here in front of him, as the man he will be, who is destined to be, one who in pursuit of power, took everything with him, who destroyed a child and led him down a path of nothing but absolute madness, who left a woman who was his wife on the verge of absolute insanity, who irreparably damaged two children who lived knowing they were nothing more than experiments in pursuit of a position as absurd as being number one, and Touya doesn't want to think about Shoto, his little brother -wasn't he born yet?- Touya doesn't know, but he hopes not yet.

He remembers those panels, where a boy with white hair, once vibrant, reddish as flames, thought attacking a baby would make him feel better, and then, of a man, who, to get revenge on a world that spat in his face, preferred to burn himself if it meant that for a moment, the man who made him that way, might suffer at least for a second, that he meticulously created a revenge like a puppeteer pulls the strings of his puppets, to in the end, end up as a corpse, like the name with which he baptized his birth, as Dabi -cremation-, where the child died and from there, from those ashes, a monster was born, one that eventually ended the way it began, with fire.

And it all started because of this man his scrambled memory recognizes as a father, this man who taught him how to create flames, to then help him feed them, but never taught him how to extinguish them.

“What's wrong with you today.” Enji -his father?. asks, and Touya feels his throat tighten, feels the acid in his throat, because his mind refuses to let it be, he sees those panels of the boy and then the man, of the man -the monster- which this boy would become by this man who looks worried, Touya knows he doesn't look, because this Enji is worried, and a part of him wants to laugh, because how much will he be worried about?, he doesn't want to know.

But he feels that tug on his body, like a phantom touch that almost obsessively commands him to accept, to embrace that worry, because no matter who he was, he now knows, from the slender limbs, soft body and subtle childlike scent, that this boy, he wants his father's approval, that he needs it like a thirsty man needs water, that he needs his praise.

(The want that Enji will trample on like the tactless idiot he is, the want that will transform the child into a madman, a monster)

Then, Touya smiles, and he doesn't know why, he is prideful, but inside it feels like a can of soda that someone has shaken a thousand times, it wants to explode, but strangely, it doesn't. That cocky nature that only a child with a father as the second best, as a child with a powerful quirk, as a child brimming with pride, as if the world owes him everything just because it's him.

“I feel tired, I don't think I can use my flames anymore without feeling like I'm going to die, give me a break, dad.” Touya said, before letting out a small pout, it's not entirely a lie, he can almost feel the pull on his body, exhausted from all the training, even if he knows, bitterly, it won't be half as hard as the training little Shoto would have.

It's almost too disrupting, the way his father, looks worried, and accepts even more readily to let him go and rest, -it's even more so when he knows he wouldn't give Shoto that same kindness, and there's something, very depressing about that, even so, Enji is not at all different from how he will be, because he promises more severe training to make up for today, and Touya doesn't know how to feel when those words, seem to fuel a fire in his gut, it's thrill, he tells himself, his body remembers the urge, the urge to excel, to train, and Touya feels almost bad for feeling thrilled by that new sensation.

Touya looks at the ceiling of his room, it's almost comforting, how the pain in his muscles almost feels like a blanket, he almost feels excited, and then he feels terrible, because he knows that someone in the future wouldn't feel like this, Shoto would feel like a prisoner, and he's here, waiting to train as if the future doesn't weigh on him, even when it doesn't even happen yet.

So... Touya thinks, and... denies, denies, and denies, because seriously, he almost can't stand it -even when it proves that he can- because until a few hours ago, certainly his world wasn't like this, where the newest magic trick was one carefully created to trick the eye for the purpose of entertainment, and not, surely having the ability to create fire out of thin air, or turn back time.... or any other quirk believed to be dangerous enough to society, on top of that, he's happy to pretend he's not Touya Todoroki, aka Dabi, future villain and no, he's not in MHA, nu-hu!

But the world seems to give him a middle finger when he looks to the side, and in front of him, is a full-length mirror, with a young Touya of perhaps 7 years old, if his memory serves him right -with six years before his death- of Touya Todoroki's death, of Dabi's rise.

With one hand he tentatively touches his hair, red, like blood, like flames, and it felt soft -real, and he doesn't know which is worse, that he can't deny it now that he is touching his hair, that he knows it wasn't like that before, or the fact that he can notice some small short strands of a white shade, like snow. Then, he has that feeling of his sanity slipping away, because he wants to be furious, because fucking Touya Todoroki, a seven year old kid, has fucking gray hair, where does a kid have gray hair at that age?

The manga portrays that he started at 10, or so the panels show it, but the world he lives in, it is not a manga, it is not panels in a printed magazine, it is here now, and he doesn't know how to take it, that Touya at 7 years old has gray hair, or that no one seems to have noticed, because it was painfully easy to see it if one looked closely, the white stands out like a sore thumb on the red, he never said anything?, his parents never saw this?

He doesn't want to know the answer.

And that is where he feels it, that immense sorrow, that compassion for a child who nobody knows where he went, because now he is here, who is not a child, but also among memories that slip away like sand through his fingers, who was not an adult either, young?, maybe, adult, not yet. So he closes his eyes, and accepts it, because he doesn't think he's smart enough to think himself a way out, nor does he think he really can, not for now. Because now, at this moment, he has something more important on his hands; thinking about What the hell is he going to do?

Touya Todoroki is destined to be a villain, one of the many that the world failed, but he doesn't have to be, Touya's delusional desire for love and approval is no longer his, he still feels it, but he's better at controlling it than Touya would be, he could be a hero, Of course, he could never use his flames to their full potential, because he knows Touya will be more than Enji ever could, with stronger flames, that he could cremate everything if he tried hard enough -he doesn't think he's out of that equation, because he's not-

Maybe not even a hero, he could be anything -if canon doesn't want to bite him in the ass because he didn't fulfill his destiny as a monster- also, he could be what he is meant to be, a villain, he knows he is not as moral as he would like, he could be the kind of villain who only attacks other villains, a villain who did what he wanted, but was benign to society, but evil to other villains, but there are no villains like that in MHA, you are either white or you are black. And in the hypothetical case that he was a villain to the letter, there's not much to choose from either, because all of his options are crap.

Meta Liberation Army is a no in his book, while a quirk is kind of cool and all, he knows that over time, these quirks did nothing but power up, increase, become more and more fantastical, an example being characters like Eri, All Might and Star and Stripe, who can twist the time, change the weather in one hit and bend reality as if the laws of nature were simple laws that you ignore whenever you agree to the requirements when you create an account. He definitely does not want to see a world where less sane - and far malicious - versions of these three are running around using quirks as if they were shopping for groceries.

Humarise... doesn't have much to offer, just a version of the conspiracy theorists only these have data to stand on, if the above three disasters of nature aren't proof enough that one day, somewhere, a baby with the ability to create atomic bombs with a sneeze might be born, because it might.

Creature Rejection Clan, he doesn't like it, because Enji will be worse than any non-human citizen there could ever be, plus like the fanboy he is, Mirko is awesome, no one can take that fact away from him, he will incinerate anyone who denies it, Nedzu is adorable in all that Machiavellian face he has hidden, Spinner is awesome, he'll be awesome -He  totally doesn't say that because a twisted part of him, even without being Dabi still considers Spinner as one of his own, like his family- not to mention that anyway, it's a barely breathing organization at this point.

Shie Hassakai is off limits, enough with all the shitty adults MHA has, he doesn't need to go to a place where a maniacal toucan will torture a little girl day and night, because he thinks he's right that quirks are a disease (when the bastard uses his quirk, the hypocrite) is the right one.

Maybe, he can be a vigilante, he doesn't need the laws, permission to use his quirk, be flashy, because by Nedzu he knows he doesn't want the fame, the last thing he wants is someone calling him Enji's son, ew. Maybe, it can work, he's sure he'll do it right, though he's not sure he won't burn Kai Chisaki and make roasted toucan, sure the vigilantes will understand?

Then he remembers Eraserhead and his idea seems not as good as before, as much as he admires the man, he doesn't think he'll live after getting his ass kicked, he'll probably die of embarrassment and humiliation. 

And there it comes, more of those feelings he knows he doesn't really wants on his head, but with no subjects to fool himself with, they come up anyway, because he loves MHA as much as he hates it, because he remembers the kids, they who were either born lucky or born doomed.

Like Toga Himiko, who could have been so much, to in the end be all the worse, who could be an excellent spy, vigilante, even a damn actress, could have been everything, but only if her parents had done more -had done it right. If they hadn't thought that a quirk having to do with something as natural as blood was not synonymous to villain, like Bakugo Katsuki who could blow someone's face off if he wasn't a good kid, and that for Touya is much worse than drinking a few drops of blood, but no, the villain was a little girl with an inconvenient quirk.

How many blood banks were out there in Musutafu, because no one would tell Touya that out there wasn't some citizen with a vampiric quirk - and if one wanted to be specific, there was Vlad King, someone who controlled blood, and yet, he was loved, acclaimed, but no... it was easier, mentally and physically abusing a little girl because that serves to create model citizens and not cold-blooded killers.

Touya doesn't blame her, because he saw her story, he saw that before she was that? she was something else, still young, still with that childish glow, because the damn 'Emotional Rebound' is something that yes, exists, because he's sure without being a connoisseur of the subject, he can see it, that like Toga was denied everything she was, absolutely every part of her, when she finally could be, she did it in a terrible way, but that maybe, if she had been allowed to be, just a little bit, maybe she would never reach the extreme she reached, all because she felt good, loved, accepted, because Toga was a child before being a monster, and as the child she was, she only wanted one thing, to be loved.

There was Jin Bubaigawara, an adolescent who had to grow up too soon, who was born with bad luck, an orphan with nothing but a fragmented mind, who tried to function with the pieces he had at hand, pieces that cut his hands so badly, that one day he no longer knew if his hands were bleeding or not, someone who needed help, but who instead received rejection, loneliness, the same loneliness he filled with himself, with copies of himself, only to have the world spit him out again, leaving him with a trauma that only at the end of his life could he resolve - is he real?, or is he not?- who found a family in a jigsaw puzzle with pieces put together, pieces that broken individuals made to fit somewhere.

Atsuhiro Sako, while he was different, in the end he was the same as everyone else, certainly, if one is born a beggar it is almost certain to remain so, perhaps he was the same, with a criminal legacy like that, there was no other way but that -what else would he be? if not what his predecessors were, the predecessors of those predecessors, ¿what else would he be if not the same?- Touya does not feel as much for him as for the others, because in the end, he was the same, not mentally unstable like Twice, nor incapable of protecting himself until much later than Toga, but Touya could still put him into a very bad luck, to have been born with bad cards in his hand, what happens when one is born with bad cards? He can only make bad moves.

Suichi Iguchi was another example of how MHA and its society only created more villains than it saved, a young man who at the lowest moment of his life, where he should have been listened to, guided, instead was carried along by the current, who at the wrong time, the wrong day, the wrong life, heard someone call heroes fake, heroes that everyone revered, and he thought that if he was going to follow anyone, he would follow the one person who made him feel validated without knowing it - where heroes never saved him, where society cast him aside - then they were fake, and he, was real, as Stain said, and in that moment, Spinner was born, and the rest is history.

Kurogiri-no, Oboro Shirakumo, who died and saw his dreams snatched away by the whims of an old man who does nothing, but when he decides to do so, he destroys everything he touches, because he is the incarnation of chaos, who one day saw Aizawa Shota and thought he wanted his quirk because it is not enough with the thousands he has -it never is, never will, but since he didn't get it, he settled with him, he disfigured his corpse to create a chimera, a mockery of the dreams of an adolescent to do good, and transformed him into a nomu, a victim of circumstances, with too much bad luck to be there at that moment, and who died because of that bad luck.

Touya then remembers the Shimura Massacre, which has not yet passed, and remembers that he is 7 years old, that Tenko Shimura -not Shigaraki Tomura- is at this moment 4, and that Oboro is still 16 years old, with dreams and hopes -still with his friends, perhaps they are playing with Sushi, as children should, and not dead, crushed in rubble, while a young Shota -who is grumpy, not bitter, not yet- looks at his friend, the blood that fills the ground, and the smell of metal, of despair. And he is thankful that it is not yet over, that still the wheel of fate is being polite.

And then, the last of the tragedies comes, and Touya feels so much, too much, for Shimura Tenko, who never was, who never had a choice, was born and died for a reason, for a monster who decided that his reason for living would be to torture a child, only to feel the satisfaction that in some twisted side of his mind, his nemesis, would be wallowing in his regret, because there is nothing she can do for the child with whom she shares blood, because a monster wanted a doll for his hell he calls a dollhouse, and Touya loathed him, scorned him-

Shimura Tenko, a child who was born cursed, without a father who loved him -who was not consumed by that crackling hatred- who was taken away something that may or may not have been his, a quirk, if he had one, and instead, was given something that was no different than a parasite, a parasitic quirk, because that's what it was, a child who was raised to embody hatred and nothing more, where there were no dreams, no afternoons playing with the corgi that Touya doesn't bother to remember, where the damn old lady instead of saying; 'Hey, there's a fucking kid in an alley, why instead of telling him to wait for a hero didn't I call the police like the fucking adult I am? ' left a kid to his fate, because heroes did it all, because they were all useless, so useless, so useless, so much as to leave a black haired kid in the street, a black haired one, not blue, with shredded skin and hands on his body, a sick requiem, an ode to those who were something, and who then were just proof of who he was now.

Touya comes to a painful truth, that sometimes when he was someone else he thought, when he was foolish, that he wanted to save those that no one saved, he thinks and thinks, and in the end, he doesn't really know what he wants, whether to cry, to laugh at his absurd thought or just throw himself out the window, because doing that is less stupid than he knows he wants to do -than he will do.

Because no matter if he curses the adults, the damn old lady, anyone, the truth is the same, Shimura Tenko is the most unfortunate of all, because he's perfect, enough so that among thousands of candidates, he's All for One favorite, because even if somehow, Tenko is saved, the police help, a hero saves him, All for One will find him, sooner or later, and he won't hesitate to kill his adoptive family if he gets one, fill Japan with blood if necessary, take everything from Tenko again, and again, and again, and again, because monsters are just that, predators that never let go once they bite.

And him, what can he do? He's a brat, he can't go and kidnap a four year old, not when surely All For One would be looking at Tenko like the sick project he thinks he is, maybe when he leaves him to his fate, when Tenko in his grief runs away from there and hides in an alley, where no one helped, where the world helped the devil to prove to a child that no one is going to save him.

All Might can't be contacted, not by him, who is a lanky brat, and not when his father is Endeavor, who looks stupid, but surely he'll figure it out if his son, his pride -the one he still is, but not for long- decides he wants to talk to his father's number one enemy.

So he can only wait, because he is weak, he is infinitely weak, but he will make up for it, in a year, he will make up for it-. He promises, he promises - he promises at least that, to fight for Tenko tooth and nail, for all of them, because he knows that when he was not Touya, and he was in a hospital bed, dying, they were his comfort, because they were alone, like him, because there was that feeling of kinship, and understanding, and because the weight of knowing, and yet doing nothing, is something he could not bear, so he would fight for all of them, but especially, for Touya, the boy who was lost in flames that he was never taught to extinguish.

But to do that, first he has to learn, how to die, because Touya Todoroki had to die, maybe not at thirteen, when he was destined, but much earlier.

Chapter Text

For the next week, Touya can only remain in a spiral between denial and the most terrible acceptance, because he briefly remembers that there is nothing for him on the other side, in his world, because what would he do if he go back? The answer was simple, die.

He doesn't like to think about it, but his body was dying, there was nothing the doctors could do for him, he had no one to go back to, but it was different, a world where the biggest problem was a cyber-war, where the biggest crime was because of some deranged person, but here?

MHA was different, it was worse, because here were people who could rearrange matter, shatter your bones with a touch, could live millennia with plans and there were villains, those that could only be in children's stories, but only now the damn children's story was his life, and Touya insults All For One all he wants, all he can, but the truth is that he'se terrifies him, because even prostrate, he is terrifying, horrible, he is the closest thing to the bogeyman there will be in this new world.

It was easier to imagine himself doing things, than actually doing them, because it is easy to imagine himself planning his death, how he will burn the forest to the ground, how he may or may not leave a part of himself there, he can also imagine himself mutilating a part of himself so there is proof that yes, he died, but it terrifies him, to see himself losing a limb  (a piece of jaw), or that his plan will go very wrong, because he can feel it.

When he practice with his quirk, he can feel deep down, that a part of his body screams at him every time not to go further, not to make his flames burn more than they should, because then they will not only be sensations of heat on the skin, but burns, the penetrating burning that intensifies, the tingling, the insensitivities.

He considered Dabi an amazing character, but he doesn't want to end up like him, with staples that pull at the skin, that bleed constantly if he strains, the phantom burning, the purplish skin that looks ugly, terrible, like a patched doll that someone wanted to try to fix, but didn't succeed.

There is also the other problem, those memories, which seem mixed with Touya's, his and there is one more, which he tries to understand, but they are blurry, covered with smoke, but they feel so familiar, one is about Touya, the another is his, and the last one, he is not sure he wants to know, because they feel dangerous, dark, but at the same time, so much his that they make him nervous.

But in the end, they are just memories, memories, that, even if they tell the most probable future, they are not everything, because it is a future of many, the safest one to happen? sure, but not the only one. Even if that advantage disappears once he meddles in the canon, he still wants to do it, even if it is then so unrecognizable that Touya won't even know where he stands, because it's still real life and not a silly story with a predetermined ending.

He is not like Mirai Sasaki, who gave up once the future remained the same.

If the future wants to get back on course, then Touya is happy to throw it away, not hide in a sewer because something went wrong, he doesn't have the luxury and doesn't want that for himself.

A part of his memory, he remembers something that wasn't there before, - it's Dabi, sitting in that bar, which he almost feels smells old, dusty, but it feels like home, like security. And he's fine, he's happy even doesn't seem to mind when for a moment he forgets how much he despises Enji Todoroki, he just enjoys the antics of Toga and Twice, while pretending not to hear Shigaraki's whining, because he lost a game to Spinner, and everything is safe, he's with his family, all with the same dream, and Dabi doesn't mind, even when he thinkst hey're all fools, with silly dreams, but he's there, so maybe he's a fool too.

Touya blinks, looking away from the computer, as he swings his feet, feeling his eyes spin, dizzy, before coming back to himself, at home, in the Todoroki residence, in front of the computer, which, as slow as ever, is still looking for everything concerning Musutafu

So Dabi thought they were fools, Touya is not so surprised, because as much as Dabi says he doesn't care about the league, Touya would swear it's a lie, because the League of Villains was a family, because no one would burn down the home that caused my coworker so much harm just to comfort her, no one would go on a killing spree just because my coworker was killed, and certainly, no one wouldn't tear pieces of his flesh, his body off to help his coworkers.

They were silly children, because what else would they be if they were not children?, who never grew up at all, all thanks to the fact that no one took the trouble to teach them, help them, make them grow up, mature, children who in the end won the war, but lost every single battle.

There is no victory in a war.

Dabi was burned to the ground, more alive than dead, because the child died in the forest, and what came out of there was something else.

Toga got what she wanted most, from the hand of a brown-haired girl, acceptance, understanding in the way that only someone with hopes for a better world could have, but what good did that do? Yes, Uraraka in the end kept her promise, that there wasn't another Toga Himiko out there, but the real one was gone. -And wasn't that, infinitely cruel?

They gave a family to someone who had only himself, himself and the thousands of copies of himself, and then left him to die in the hands of the one he considered family, a friend.

They destroy a child, they conditioned him to desire revenge, to embody hatred, to then turn him into a puppet without conscience, for the hands of a monster, showing him that nothing was or would ever be his, that his feelings were always someone else's, where only a vengeance that was not even his remained, to finally save him when there was nothing left to save (all because of his blood, that damn blood he was born with, because he was born as a Shimura, because maybe, if he was not Shimura, he could have been just Tenko)

And then there are those who were left, who were left with the pieces, with that legacy, which society listened to, because they had to listen, because they saw what their ignorance, their blindness created, where they swore to themselves that they would prevent another Toga, another Twice, another Shigaraki from being born out there.

For Touya that's no good, because in the end they were nothing less than martyrs, for a world they could never see, reformed by the blood of children they once were, for the children who would come after them.

And Touya wants to vomit, (Why not them? Why others?), maybe that's why he was willing to go to those limits for them, because they were like him, when he was sick, dying, cursing because there was no one by his side, suffering when others were healthy, because he was not born in a world with fantastic powers, just because he was weak he didn't become like them- cruel, bitter, despicable.

Is it obsession?

No, it's probably much more.

Touya discovers that he doesn't care.

He still has a year, to plan as much as he can before his life becomes a roller coaster ride to disaster, to see for himself if the threads of fate are as hard to break as he feels they might be, because he doesn't want to be in that nursery, as one of the many toys All For One can watch from afar, looking for who might surpass his sick standards to be the next Shigaraki.

They are all still young, Toga is just a baby and will not begin her torment until four years later, the rest will not live as if they were in a field of flowers, but will not yet be living the worst that the world can throw at them, but now only one remains, the most troublesome of all, Tenko, with an existence that runs against the clock, Oboro Shirakumo who is tied to him, and although Touya does not feel for him the same way he feels for his own, for his family, he still feels pity, because he is also young, and deserves to live.

Because Touya knows.

Because it would be different if he didn't know it, but he does.

Because Touya knows he will die, and he does not want to bear the burden of guilt for not having at least tried something, anything, because he is not a coward, he does not want to remember all the days he has left thinking of himself as a coward.

With one last glance at the ceiling, Touya closed his eyes, hoping that tomorrow would be less dark than the thoughts of the uncertain future.

Touya is lying to himself if he said he wasn't excited, because it turns out that adrenaline was as addictive as sugar, and only now, with a body that can run, jump, hold on, can he understand it.

The feeling of his chest expanding with every breath of air, the beating of his heart as powerful as a locomotive, on the wide training field, where the cool morning breeze caressed his warm skin, as he absorbs all that he should know, but doesn't quite remember.

In front of him, there is Enji, with that same characteristic seriousness, while watching from the side, and Touya does not know if he is looking at him, his son or his masterpiece (his failed masterpiece)

"You have to always remember, the key is knowing how to control the temperature, even more so when your flames are blue, stronger, with the potential to be stronger." Enji said, in a deep voice that echoed in the air. "It's not just about creating flames, is about knows

how to manage them, how precisely you do it."

Touya nods, concentrating, because contrary to the real Touya, something seems to be wrong with his fire, because it is stronger than he would like, because he has to sneak into his parents' room, seeking to hide the slight discoloration in his skin with makeup.

Touya believes it is due to his emotions, since he arrived, his mind has been everywhere but the present, guilty, upset, vindictive, but not here, at the Todoroki residence.

He takes a deep breath and feels it, the energy that seems to flow through his veins, through his body, as if the flames themselves are traveling through his body, he feels the heat, nice, like a cold day where one find a place where the sun is warm, and there, the flames shoot out, strong, determined, and for once in weeks, he doesn't feel the tug of the burn, and it feels like learning for the first time, and it's fun.

"Better." said Enji, smiling a smile of approval, raising his hand, where powerful, red, magma-like flames shoot out in sharp shapes to the target, hitting the center, precise, fast, and are everything Touya should be in the future, (what he should be, but won't be)

He braces himself, and the fire in his palm begins to swirl between his fingers, in the outline of his hand, like seaweed in the sea, emulating the sharp shapes he saw, but he fails, because they are not carefully sculpted shapes, they are not dynamic, he knows they will not be fast, but the instinct in his chest tells him that, if he tries to force himself, he will only blow his cover faster than he would like, because Enji must not know that Touya never had a body fit for flames, not for now.

And with a hot blast past the side of his cheek, the flames shoot out, not as fast or powerful as Touya would want, but there is something in his chest, which he thinks is pride, because this is nothing compared to what Enji would do, to what Dabi knew how to do, but for Touya, with blurred memories, it is much more than he expected.

"You did it!" exclaimed Enji, and although his tone was still firm, Touya can feel those traces of pride, because throwing fire is not the same as knowing how to control it. "But don't relax. Constant practice is what will make you stronger."

Touya sighs, with the thought that he will have nightmares of fire in geometric shapes for the next few days.

Touya falls onto the bed with a pained groan, he can feel the tug and pain in his limbs from being tossed all over the compound under Enji's impressive gorilla strength.

He needs to train more, because controlling the strength of his flames is proving more difficult than he would like, so that he doesn't end up roasted ahead of schedule.

With a sigh, Touya crawled between the blankets, to a corner of the bed, from where he pulled out his notebook, he crossed out a sentence from among all the scribbles written, finally, his brain decided to help him come up with a plan, a way of how he could better control his flames.

-

"Do you want to go to the central district? Why?" asks Enji, while holding a bottle of water in his hands.

Touya lies on the floor, a cold towel covering his eyes from the infernal sun, which don't help when you have a quirk that burns, that makes you feel like you're a chicken in a rotisserie. "I want to learn from another angle about fire, see how it's composed, the properties it has, maybe I can also create my own method of study." he stammers, with the same words he practiced the day before in front of the mirror, because to say - I don't think learning how to be tossed around the compound will teach me much. Is not a good excuse to say.

"I know that lately in Musutafu there's been more crime than usual, someone has been hunting the lower-ranked villains, right?" Touya doesn't need to think too hard to get an idea of who it could be. "You should take care of that, while I study on my own." Touya mutters, as he looks up from under the towel.

Considering that at this point, according to his memories, he would be close to the vigilante tome, where Chizome Akaguro, despairing at the way everyone only wanted fame and fortune, ends up falling into a spiral, starting out as a vigilante, being Stendhal, and while he won't be known as Stain the hero-killer until seventeen years later, that doesn't mean that as a  vigilante who for the time being only kills villains, doesn't have in himself the traces of what he will become - if the fact that he ripped off his nose wasn't a trace of the deranged man he will become some time later.

"Okay, but when I come back, I hope you have something good to show me, I won't let you waste your time when you could be training." and Touya can't be more grateful that Enji accepts of everything as long as it has to do with training.

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Quickly, he stows his notebook under the mattress, and sighs, dropping into the cool blankets.

In the end he can only guide himself in small steps, because Musutafu is huge, and while a part of himself wishes that for some absurd reason of fate, he would meet some canon character, that seems impossible.

But so is blinking and finding himself in another world, in another body, and with ideas about how to fake his death, to kidnap traumatized children, so maybe he have a better chance of the impossible happening.

Perhaps.

Chapter Text

Contrary to the desire he had deep down, he didn't meet anyone he might meet in the future, be it as friend, foe or just some poor sap who wouldn't survive for the sake of the plot, he might have actually been a bit excited, seeing once intangible characters face to face was an experience that he wanted to have, despite how bad that would actually be, because it meant that it was really happening, that that last final war between enemies of eons would happen in a future that though still years away, still felt like it was nipping at his heels.

Learning to live with parents that were and were not his own had been nothing short of terribly uncomfortable, even with memories that had surfaced in one, having accepted that he was Touya now, it was still an experience that left a chill on the skin every time he was unlucky enough to be unable to avoid them. Enji was simple, easy to read and although he couldn't help it, he was so engrossed in everything about the training that there was really nothing to feel uncomfortable about, because that was it, Touya didn't have to pretend he was still the same Touya, as long as he showed progress and trained Enji didn't care about the rest, he didn't have to do anything else.

Of course it was still awkward, even if the three memories of Dabi, Touya and Him had emerged in one, there were still the vestiges of what each one thought of Enji, between the innocent fascination and love towards Enji as a hero and as a father, to the more infamous loathing and murderous instinct of Dabi, and Touya doesn't know which of the two is the worse, whether to worship Enji or want to burn him along with everyone in the Todoroki residence.

At the end of the day, though, it's easy to keep a safe distance, as Enji remains simple to read, ignore him, train, sleep, the same routine that ensures he doesn't form a bond beyond training partner and that's it. A case apart, is his mother, where Touya seems to feel an overwhelming apathy and Dabi who feels a hatred that borders on contempt, it is difficult, to accept the uncomfortable reality that she lives in the same house, and it is in those cases where Touya has the desire to be swallowed by the earth. Talking to Rei is perhaps by far the most uncomfortable thing he has ever done in this life, the next and the next, of that he is sure, almost that their interactions belong as an example in a dictionary, under the word awkwardness.

To her credit, even when she has two other young children of whom need more from her than Touya does, she still tries to adjust her time for him And while six year old Fuyumi is nothing but an angel, and Natsuo while he may not be the living example of good behavior, is still a better behaved child than any other, except for the days when he refuses to eat his vegetables or wants to watch TV until later hours than allowed, even despite all that, Touya doesn't deny being a big hypocrite, because he still is annoyed with her, for he feels offended that the only interactions she can have with the one who is supposed to be her son, are those one would have with a stranger instead of a son, Good morning, Touya, How was training, Touya? , How was your day, Touya?

He can't blame the earlier Touya in his reminiscences for not caring about his mother, because if the awkward way she tries to approach him says anything about the kind of relationship the two have, he's not surprised that the Todoroki family's children ended up as they did in the canon, a daughter with a complex of making everything better even when her house has more cracks than a broken glass, a son who despises his father and doesn't want to have him in any aspect of his life as if he were nothing less than cancer, another son who ended up being a murderer and villain, and the younger him who has a trauma scarred on his skin for life, with a moral dilemma as to whether his desires are even his own or something imposed by his father, not to mention the obvious moral issue he has with that part of him that comes from Enji, his fire. That it took a strange child to tell him what should have been obvious, that this power, this fire was his alone and no one else's, for him to finally use it.

The Todoroki family could be a study phenomenon for generations to come if the right to privacy did not exist.
Maybe at the end of it all, whether something changes or everything stays the same, he can drag all his siblings away for a well-deserved and necessary therapy session, and if he's lucky, Enji to Tartarus, it's unlikely, but dreaming doesn't cost.

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And so the months passed, every day was the exact same, the only difference being that instead of having to endure going to school again, perhaps the only thing Enji did for good for him, was to give him private tutors, who never cared enough to know about Touya other than that he understood the subject.

Also, Touya discovered something over the months, it seems that, contrary to his imagination, the Todoroki residence was one of the least protected places he had ever seen, no guards, no cameras, perhaps because Enji considered himself strong enough on his own to protect his own family (although Touya believes it is more about the man's pride than anything else, how I Enji Todoroki, the second strongest hero in Japan will need others to defend my family?, or something...)

Getting out was easy, and Touya regrets not having tried earlier for fear of being discovered, because he still remained under Enji's radar as his masterpiece, but in the end, every fear was unfounded, he simply had to go into the living room and out the window, and just like that, he was now in that forest, his grave.

Now he understands how this place had been the perfect cover, enough to hide the intensive training all this time, it was remote, covered by miles of acres of thick, leafy trees. Practically, seeing smoke or anyone inside is an almost impossible task, even more so when it seems to be a space away from the world, away from people and everything at all. And the only sound to prove that life exists are the birds squawking every time he uses his skill and speaks louder than the birds seem to accept.
And because he won't make the same mistakes as Touya, behind a tree rested a first aid kit, along with some ointments with the function of at least clearing up any burns left on his skin that wouldn't go away after a few days, and only because he likes to be twice as cautious, a fire extinguisher in case his vague control of his fire falls to even lower levels.

It was not easy, as the days went by and that routine he had been ignited by continued, everything seemed perhaps a dream, or so he wanted it to happen, with the days continuing, that only meant that the canon was approaching, perhaps he would have a worse time if he had been in a more current timeline, with greater problems in addition to those he already knew. That's why his fire was never easy to control, as if he would always try to open a can that he had subsequently shaken a thousand and one times, it was natural that it would explode, and preventing that from happening was a complicated task.

Still, he had to try, with time, experience comes, and with that same experience, controlling his flames seemed less of a chore and more something he wanted with all his might.

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"Fuyumi, you never have to let others walk over your feelings. “Touya said after a few minutes, while staring at the screen that was playing some short movies of the heroes' last victory over some nameless villains.

Fuyumi put her spoon aside and looked at her brother, she didn't interact much with her brother, as her father spent most of the time occupying his time, training him, so there were few and far between times when the two shared time together, more so, with her brother talking to her in the first place. Fuyumi anyway wouldn't understand it like perhaps Natsuo could, she never wanted to be a hero herself anyway.

"Why do you say that?" she asked, as she lay down by her brother, there was something nice about Touya's temperature, he always seemed so warm, even more so when the cold season had come, and Fuyumi was always cold, it didn't bother her, but it was different when there was warmth coming to you when you were always cold, it was nice, it felt good, she felt at peace.

“Uhm, well, just because. I still remember when to avoid trouble you'd let Natsu take your toys, and even when it clearly bothered you. I'm not saying it's bad to share, I'm just saying... it's okay to be selfish, to be annoyed and want something for yourself.” Touya said a little lower, before looking at her. “It's okay to be selfish, Fumi. You don't need to fix anything from anyone, or for anyone.”

Touya knew it, of course a six-year-old Fuyumi wouldn't understand it now, because she was just a little girl with round cheeks eating an ice cream, and maybe for him, she would only have the distant title of younger sister if one of the nights when he escaped, she hadn't caught him, even more so, when days later, she caught him again, but this time, applying makeup to several burns on his stomach, which, while not terrible yet, had still discolored his skin.

Touya knew Fuyumi was smart, despite her innocent nature, in spite of her innocent nature, because she was a child, that's what she was supposed to be, she was actually still smart, so it wasn't long before Touya basically had to beg her not to say anything to anyone, and it was hard, Fuyumi was aware enough to know what not saying anything was bad, but in the end, children are easy to win over, nothing that a few days spending time together and some candy won't fix.

And while Touya considered it a chore the first few days, it wasn't long before he discovered why she wanted his time as a bargaining chip to keep the secret, it was all because she was lonely, and while her mother filled the role of perfect playmate, she was nonetheless still a busy woman, and small children in daycare were difficult, always wanting to know what it felt like to be the daughter of a professional hero, and Touya knows it must be even more so, having to lie and pretend, because that professional hero, who is her father, seems more like that distant figure than a father in the first place, for Fuyumi though she doesn't care yet, someday she will care, it will hurt to know that her own father has no interest in her.

“Isn't it good to help? “ Fuyumi asked, because of course it would, what would a child be taught if not goodness, kindness and everything that would then be a chain in the future?

“Of course it's good, but it's not everything. Tell me, if you were to work and to help, give all your money, how would you live? Helping is good, but what I mean is that you don't have to give everything for others to make it. Not everyone deserves your help and you can't help everyone, a broken glass, even if you fix it will never work the same again. ”

And Fuyumi looks at him, with confused little eyes, but like the good girl she is, even without understanding him now, she accepts his advice, because despite the little time together they spend, he's still her big brother, a brother she's finally getting to know better.

“All right, brother. I'll listen to you, even if you say very strange things.” And Touya chuckles, before pinching her plump cheeks, for he knows she doesn't get it yet, but maybe in a future, one he doesn't expect to come too soon, she'll understand, and if she's lucky, she'll remember his words and won't be the same Fuyumi who was willing to cover the cracks in the wall of a house that was never meant to house people in the first place.

“I'll take what you tell me into consideration, but I also want you to take care of yourself then, I don't like it when you get hurt, is it a deal then?” Fuyumi says, with bright eyes that leave no room for denial, and Touya with a sigh nods.

“I promise” And Touya more than anything wishes he could keep that promise.

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Natsuo is different from Fuyumi, where she is an easy child to like and care for, he is a situation totally removed from what she is, because the memories are essentially like the sun with the moon in comparison, where the memories don't react with her, they do with Natsuo, in a way that Touya doesn't like. For they only make it clear that Touya wasn't just a kid on a downward plummet into madness, no, he was much more than that, he was smart. That he could tell even when no one else could, that Natsuo was Enji's vain attempt to get his wish, to find the much-loved chimera that would contain the power of the two of them together.

And so, his memories show him mementos of the first time he had seen that little white-haired baby, the first feeling he felt was disappointment, because even from the first moment, he knew, that this baby was nothing more than an object that Enji discarded because it was of no use to him, and happiness because Touya was still the most valuable in spite of everything.

What contradictory feelings to have, Touya thinks with a sigh, as he sits down next to his brother, who was covered from head to toe with blankets and a wet cloth on his head. And the reminders of how he got there in the morning, are still fresh in his mind, making him feel bitter, annoyed.

“I'm sorry you had to see that, Natsu.” Touya apologizes, while touching his brother's reddish forehead, as he settles down next to him, with a book in his hands, with stories of the heroes that marked a before and after, which Natsuo seems in love with.

“It's okay, you should have gone, it's just a fever, I'll be fine, mom takes care of me and Fumi already spent enough time with me.” Natsuo grimaced, in a small, husky voice, which does nothing but scratch Touya's heart every time he hears it.

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“You should be training, Touya!” Enji yells, and the sound does nothing but make the mixed memories get worse, between fear, shame for not being enough, and hatred, that hatred that makes him want to set the world on fire if he can, but Touya bites his lip, and holds it in. "I've tolerated enough of your time-wasting, I've said nothing when you spent your time watching nonsense on TV when you could be doing something of use, but this is enough. I will no longer tolerate you wasting your time like this, not when you will be the one to outdo me!"

"I won't train today, I've been doing it every day, one day isn't going to wreck all the progress, so I won't go training. I'll spend time with my siblings, and you won't be the one to stop me!" Touya didn't back down, not when he had finally started spending time with his siblings, not when the time seemed to get shorter, not when he knew that one day of training or not, it wouldn't make a difference anymore, because he didn't want to play by Enji's rules anymore, because it was easy to choose between his siblings and Enji.

Touya licks his lips, thinking its worth saying what he really means, insulting him for the man he will be, hating him because even if he doesn't know Shoto, he still deep down loves him the same way he learned to love Fuyumi who is infinitely kind and even though she knows it's wrong, keeps his secret because she knows Touya needs this more than breathing, Natsuo who even though sometimes their interactions are awkward, still tries to understand him, even when Touya sees that Natsuo feels jealous because he does get to spend time with his father.

"Maybe you should spend less time watching All Might and instead, devote yourself to watching your own family. All Might this, All Might that, not everything in fucking life comes down to that man!” Touya yells, baring his teeth, and that's something he can't quite regret, even when what he was hiding so much finally catches up with him.

And with the emotions he bottled up for so long, the can finally opens, and the foam fills the whole place, where finally his fire burns, and Touya only realizes it when he gives a hiss of pain and looks down at his own arm, in a furious red, because he finally got burned by his own fire, and that's when he realizes, where everything finally happens as he always knew it would. Because he can't keep secrets forever, not when every day he spends with his siblings, every day he loves them more, it is himself who begins to hate Enji, not a Touya he is not, not a Dabi he could be, but himself, who begins to hate Enji for being the one who started creating the cracks.

And if Enji was the one who started creating them, then it seems that he will be the one to make them bigger.

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In the end their fight ended abruptly, Enji said nothing and neither did his mother, at the end, the cat is out of the bag in a different way than it happened, much later than he would like it to be, but he has no regrets about how it happened, why it happened. For every word was spoken by him, they were his real feelings, even if he knows that what awaits him tomorrow is something that will irrevocably change everything forever, to how they were meant to be.

Touya looked at Natsuo, and sighed. “You didn't do anything, Natsu, me and dad's fight is only our fault, it has nothing to do with you or anyone else, okay?” because Touya couldn't stand Natsu thinking that the reason Touya got burned by his own fire was because of him, that the reason his parents were fighting in the other room was because of him. 

“But you didn't need to take care of me, you can leave to train, I'm not a baby. I know how much you love training, you don't need to be here! “ Natsuo repeats, and of course Natsuo would be saying that, Touya doesn't need to think about it too much, for a kid like Natsuo, Enji's attention is something he can only imagine, and seeing him spend every day with his father, how he can't do it, it must be like heaven, and seeing Touya deny it, must be something hard to understand.

I want to spend time with you because the future scares me.

I want to spend it with you and Fuyumi because only now I realize that I love you both.

I'm sorry for not loving you before, I was scared.

I'm scared because sometimes I feel like an imposter, stealing someone else's life.

I'm so scared of what will become of me, of you.

I'm scared of failing those who need me, of failing you two.

But instead, Touya swallows the words that feel like knives in his throat, and smiles, and hugs his little brother, because he fears that at the end of the road, even he won't be able to recognize himself when he looks in the mirror, time will have passed, and wasted time is something none of them will get back, so at least, he will take the memories with him.

“I love you and Fuyumi more than I love training, so stop talking nonsense. I'll stay and take care of you and read you your stupid book full of silly heroes.” and Touya is thankful that kids are easy to forget everything in the world, because Natsuo tries to punch his arm and Touya just giggles and giggles and giggles....

And when Fuyumi comes in crying, because the children have no business watching their parents fight, Touya hugs her because she needs it and whispers soothing words in her ear, because none of this is her fault. 

Touya is thankful that the children are still children, small, easily distracted, because with silly performances, they forget about the fight, as if it never happens, and they all fall asleep in a pile of hugs, while Touya looks up at the ceiling. 

There is no turning back from this. 

Because the cracks can no longer be hidden.

And the ticking hands of the clock can no longer be stopped.

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“It is an unusual case to be honest. Your son has inherited a much greater power from the base of the fire quirk, but he also inherited his mother's physique. That is to say, his body is not made to withstand fire, but to withstand freezing temperatures.”

“Raising a child like that... in a society grounded in quirks is not something I recommend.”

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“No... That would be too much, it's too cruel!”

“Especially now that Touya knows what you're hoping to achieve with the children!”

“No matter what I say .... He comes home with new burns, every day!”

“He inherited that stupid stubbornness from me! That's the only way to make him give up.”

“Since he'll never be the one to overcome...”

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“WAAAAHHH!” The silence finally breaks, a high-pitched, desperate cry filling the air, echoing like an echo of life amidst the gloom, it's a choppy, powerful sound, like a bolt of lightning that instantly illuminates the darkness.

Outside the room, Touya holds Natsuo's cold hand, with Fuyumi tightly holding the hem of his shirt, as the three wait, for the time had finally come, Shoto had been born and just as he knew it would, the thunderous cry filled the silence, and he doesn't need to go inside to see it, for he had already seen it even months before he turned eight.

Yet he still remembers, that exhausted and lost look of his mother, and that almost demented smile of Enji, that sick joy that was achieved through the sacrifice of all of them, all for the sake of this man, the one he doesn't know how, but he began to hate, no longer as a character, but as a person, because he met him and he could only be like that. He hated him for seeing children he learned to love as weapons that he didn't like, that he threw away, he hated him because even when Touya tried for so long, he didn't spend a damn day with his other children. 

Because he was the one who had to make Natsuo forget that his father didn't care about him, who had to distract Fuyumi when the fighting and yelling started to become more and more in a row, so much so that even she could tell, from how her mother was starting to wither, to withdraw.

For he had to carry everything as his mother spiraled downward and his father seemed to become more and more obsessed with whoever outdid the stupid All Might. 

And finally, here he was, Shoto Todoroki.

His little brother.

And the last nail in the coffin of Touya Todoroki who is no more.

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Contrary to canon, he did not attack a baby who was none other than his little brother, but neither did he see him together with his siblings, because it was one thing the slight anger he felt towards Natsuo for being the representation of his wobbly position, that he was not enough. And while those feelings were already bad, what Shoto represented was much worse.

If Natsuo represented the fear of losing everything, Shoto represented hatred, that, from his birth, Touya would never again be enough, even when he mutilated himself, burned his flesh to the limit, he would never be enough, because Shoto would be everything Touya would never be, he would have everything, and he, nothing.

So he was terrified, afraid of what he would do if he saw him, he doesn't think he could live with himself if he would attack his little brother, if he would hate him when all he did wrong was to have the bad luck to be born into this shitty family, Touya doesn't think he could bear it if seeing Shoto he would only feel hatred.

And so he gathers all the willpower he can and walks to the room in the middle of the night, like a thief, like a criminal, and enters the room, and as if the world knew what he was trying to do, the door doesn't creak, nor do the floorboards thunder. And all is silent, as Touya walks to the pastel blue crib.

Then... Touya laughs, softly and almost in a whisper, only for the darkness of the night to witness his actions, because there is no hatred in his body for this baby, because he is so small that Touya fears he will break if he looks at him with intensity, he smells like sunshine on a cold day, like ice cream on a hot day, he smells like milk and feels like a blanket on a freezing night. He feels like everything that's right in the world. 

And he laughs and laughs and laughs, because Natsu is right, Shoto looks like a little domino, only he's red and white, but if he were black and white he'd be a little domino.  And Touya can't think of a better name for him than that.

His breath stops when Shoto opens his eyes, and Touya almost feels as if someone will scratch his heart, because he looks so innocent, eyes round and fascinated, with that same silly expression that Natsuo makes when he's distracted, and when he smiles with that little mouth, he looks like Fuyumi, with that little dimple on the side that makes her look adorable. And Touya wants nothing more than to take the three of them and run away as far as his legs can carry him, even more than that, because they deserve everything and more, but he can't, because he's not the one who can give them that, he can't give them anything but trouble. 

Yet when Shoto takes between his soft little hands his finger, Touya wants that so much that it hurts, even when he can't, he wants, wants, wants....

It is from that moment that Touya realizes that he cannot watch these children suffer, so small and so fragile, at the mercy of a monster with no one but themselves, and that makes him burn, he feels his teeth clench with a rage that would make the world tremble, because it is a lie, Fuyumi will have Natsuo and Natsuo will have Fuyumi, but who will have Shoto? The answer is no one, not until much later, and the word later doesn't sit well with Touya.

Oh.

Oh.

He finally gets it, the more he looks at him, the more a part of him that was sleeping finally wakes up, and Touya gets it, in a way so painful that it makes him feel like his insides are clenching. 

Dabi never hated Shoto, because in a weird, roundabout way perhaps he knew what would become of him from the moment he really gazed at him, that he saw him for the first time, and thought he'd be safer dead.

And knowing that little truth that was never told, hurts him, because he understands why, Dabi didn't know it would happen, but he still thought that, and now that Touya looks at him, and knows what could happen, he can't help but think the same thing, how safe he would be if that were so, how at peace he would be, no pain, no suffering, no hardship.

But he's not like Dabi, he's a coward, because he can't hurt his brother, any of them, even if he feels the world is too horrible for them, he can't, so he just sobs silently then, swallowing the pain that feels like poison, and he looks at little Shoto and sighs.

He never wanted to leave this house and leave this kids with no protection.

He didn't want to leave Fuyumi to fix a broken glass, nor Natsuo to wallow in contempt, nor Shoto, the little domino who wasn't even born yet to serve as a punching bag for Enji's desires, because he learned to genuinely love his siblings a little too late, and if he could love them a little too late, why couldn't he love Shoto even if he wasn't even born?

Maybe he could do things a little differently than he had planned, stay a little longer.

He would have to carry a little more weight than he wanted to or could take on, but seeing Shoto looking at him with big grayish-brown and turquoise eyes, maybe he could do it.

He must be able to do it. 

And with a last glance at Shoto's figure in the crib, Touya closed the door behind him.