Chapter Text
It had been two weeks since Endeavor had claimed he was going to start training Shoto, and Touya was just beginning to realize he might not have been bluffing.
Call it stupidity or false hope, but he’d truly believed that this was another one of Endeavor’s tricks. It wouldn’t have been the first time he pulled this type of crap. When Touya was five, Endeavor told him that Fuyumi had smashed his favourite action figure, just to see if personal anger had any affect on his quirk. When Touya was seven, Endeavor pretended to kick him out of the house to see how he’d fair ‘in the real world’. And when he was eight, he’d had tried periodically burning him with various elements – his own fire, the boiling water, the stove – to see if it would increase his heat tolerance. His father had taken some extreme measures before, to say the least, and Touya couldn’t exactly rule out that this wasn’t some elaborate lie.
Except now it had been two weeks and Endeavor hadn’t even acknowledged him. He was often found in the training room, fawning over baby Shoto. They were in there for hours at a time any day Endeavor wasn’t working double shifts. He didn’t understand what they could possibly be doing, considering Shoto was freaking two and didn’t have a quirk yet. Endeavor basically only showed up at dinner and said all of two words before disappearing again.
Touya continued to study at the Commission, just like Endeavor had suggested. He waited until his arm healed enough that it was no longer in the sling to keep training. It still hurt a little, but there would be no gain without some pain. So he worked hard, attempting to develop new moves and techniques that would impress his father, waiting for the moment where he’d announce that it was all just a test, and tell Touya to demonstrate what he’d learned.
Eventually, Touya realized that wasn’t going to happen. He let himself be upset about it for a bit, but ultimately realized it just meant he had to work even harder. Just because Endeavor didn’t intend for this to be a test it doesn’t mean Touya couldn’t make it into one. Even if Shoto was impressive with his potential two quirks, Touya actually had a quirk, and years of training to go along with it.
The way he saw it, he had about six months to a year to prove his worth before Shoto even really became a problem. Even Endeavor had said that he’d leave Touya in the Commission program as a back up. He may have been a contingency plan, but at least he was still a plan. Touya didn’t like being pushed to the side, especially by a fucking baby, but it wasn’t worth giving up hope yet. A trained kid with a few body issues was way better than a quirkless toddler, and Touya was going to prove it.
Or at least he was planning to prove it, until the unthinkable happened.
“We have some news to share,” Endeavor announced, walking in with Shoto following behind him.
The rest of the Todoroki family had been having dinner without them. Rei had wanted to wait for her husband and youngest son, but Natsuo had convinced her he was near-starving, and so she finally served the Sichuan Mapo tofu that had been sitting on the stove.
They had been having a great conversation about Fuyumi’s math test and how Natsuo wanted to try out for a sports team. These types of discussions used to be common at dinner, but they had slowly faded over time, and now they mostly sat in silence for the entire meal. Touya had forgotten how much he missed these opportunities to talk to his siblings and find out what was going on in their lives.
Between his long hours at the Commission and, previously, his extra training with Endeavor, he never actually got to talk to them. Him and Fuyumi had been closer when they were really little, especially only being eleven months apart. Natsuo, however, was two and a half years younger than him. Shortly after Natsuo was born and Touya’s quirk fully set in, he had begun training and never gotten the chance to bond with his brother. It was nice to get that chance now, and to reignite his bond with Fuyumi, too.
“What’s the news?” Natsuo asked through a mouthful of food.
Endeavor glanced at him distastefully before sitting down and gesturing to Shoto, who was trying to climb into a dining chair with no help. Touya noticed he was much quicker at it now. Perhaps Endeavor spent those trainings working on coordination with the toddler, so he didn’t fall flat on his face. Regardless, Touya didn’t find it impressive at all. Fuyumi, on the other hand, gave Shoto a big smile and a gentle pat on the shoulder.
“Tell them, Shoto,” Endeavor prompted, a small smile on his face.
Touya grew annoyed. Endeavor had never cracked a smile for anything he’d ever done. And now he was borderline excited? Even proud? The man usually had two moods, and both were different shades of angry. Touya had never gotten more than a gruff “good” as praise for anything he had accomplished in his training, and here Endeavor was practically giddy at whatever Shoto had done.
“I make fire!” Shoto said, equally as excited, a big smile covering his small face. He held up his left hand and a tiny flame, no greater than a matchstick’s, appeared on the end of his finger. “And I make cold!” he added, holding up the right one as well. Touya squinted but saw nothing.
The whole family broke into “oohs” and “ahhs” and “do it again!” Shoto was absolutely eating up the praise, giggling and repeating his mediocre tricks over and over again.
“It’s not that impressive,” Touya snapped. “What does ‘make cold’ even mean? And I could like light up my whole hand when I first started using my quirk.”
Endeavor snorted. “You were four by the time you were able to do that. It was hardly impressive at that point.”
“You were a fast learner, Touya,” his mother said, giving him a warm smile. “But we can be happy for Shoto, as well.”
Touya’s eyebrows narrowed, and he clenched his fists. “Whatever,” he said, pushing back his chair abruptly. “I’m going to my room now.”
He had no intention of going to his bedroom, though, taking a right instead of a left as he exited the kitchen. He checked over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t seen, but quickly realized that no one was paying any attention to him. Everyone was still fawning over precious baby Shoto.
It’s not that Touya hated the baby. He’d liked his youngest brother once upon a time. Obviously, he didn’t get to spend much time with him, just like with his other siblings, but once in a while he’d played with little Shoto, or hold him while he slept. He would even say he liked Shoto more than Natsuo and Fuyumi as babies. He didn’t have much memory, being a toddler himself when his first two siblings were born, but he did remember being jealous. He hadn’t been jealous of Shoto, though, hadn’t thought much of it because his brother was so young.
Now he was jealous though. Now it was a problem. Now Shoto, at the mere age of two, was already a threat. It was weird, honestly, how sudden everything had changed. It made him realize that nothing about it was sudden at all. Endeavor didn’t just go on, not having kids for six years, just to suddenly start up again… this was planned. Shoto had been born when Touya was eight, right before his ninth birthday. Just under a year after they had first noticed the burns that scarred Touya’s skin when he trained. After Endeavor had tested his skin against all those elements. Shoto wasn’t an accident, that baby was literally crafted for his demise.
His intention was to come to the training room to practice quietly, hopefully refining a technique that he could show Endeavor to prove his worth. But none of that really mattered, did it? If his father had been expecting his failure, planning for it for the last three years, there was no changing his mind now, right?
Touya screamed in frustration, aiming a ball of fire at the back wall. Everything was fire-proof in the room, so it didn’t leave a mark, but it was still satisfying. He threw more and more, aiming clouds of fire until it was filling up the training room. He was surrounded by it, and he could feel it baking his skin, but he didn’t care.
“Touya!” he heard the voice of his father scream at him.
He whipped his head around. “Oh, now you acknowledge me, Dad?” he bit sarcastically.
There was a pause, a hesitation and Touya held his breath for a second, allowing himself to wonder, to hope. Then, he heard his father grunt, “I’m done.” Louder, he said, “You want to burn yourself alive, see if I care.”
Touya’s chest felt like it was being crushed. “No!” he screamed. “Come back! Look at me! Look what I can do!”
When he turned around fully, slowly letting the flames die down to clear his vision, he saw his mother standing in the doorway holding Shoto. His father was nowhere to be seen.
“Dad!” he wailed desperately. “Endeavor, come back!”
“Touya, honey, please, we can talk about this,” his mother began taking a step forward.
“No!” Touya screamed again.
“Touya, it’s okay, baby, I’m here,” she said soothingly.
Touya wasn’t buying any of it. He couldn’t take it, couldn’t look into the face of the women who was not only responsible for his failure of a quirk, but also helped create his main competition. The fucking baby who she was holding right there in her arms, mocking him.
He wished he could say it was an accident. That it was because his body was over-heating, or because he was overemotional and lost control. It wasn’t. He wished it was, because it would be easier to forgive himself that way, but unfortunately, it wasn’t.
It wasn’t a mistake when he lit up his hand, a dangerous glint in his eye. It wasn’t a mistake when he lifted up his left hand – not his right, because the left was stronger for some reason – and aimed perfectly at his mother and little brother. And it definitely wasn’t a mistake when he let the flames fly along with a guttural scream.
It wasn’t a mistake, but he regretted it almost instantly. Maybe it was the scream of his little brother – a tiny high pitch yell that brought back too many memories of training sessions from when he was only a little bit older than that. Maybe it was the way his mom’s eyes went wide with such sheer disbelief, like she never thought him capable of something like that. Or maybe it was the sickening realization that that he’d heard those screams before, and seen that look before, all at the hands of his father. The one thing he was supposed to never become… he was supposed to do better… he was supposed to be better.
He quelled the flames as quickly as he could, hoping it wasn’t too late. It took a second for the smoke to clear, and Touya waited with bated breath. He sighed, actually relieved to see Endeavor standing in front of his mother and brother, seemingly having shielded them from harm.
His relief was short-lived, however.
“What did you do?” Endeavor growled stomping towards him. “If you weren’t such a failure, you could’ve killed your brother! You would’ve ruined everything!”
“I’m sorry,” Touya choked out, barely able to muster words. “I didn’t…”
“I don’t care!” Endeavor yelled. “Get out now. You are never to speak to Shoto, and if I so much as see you near him, I will not hesitate to kick you out of this house, do you understand?”
"I-I- I’m sorry,” Touya stuttered, desperately trying to think of anything to say.
“Out!” Endeavor yelled again, storming into the training room and grabbing Touya in a vice grip by the good arm – Touya wondered if he remembered, or it was a lucky coincidence. He threw him out the door and Touya landed on his knees, keeping himself upright by his hand.
“Go!”
Touya half-stumbled, half-crawled away. As he did, he could hear his mother try to reason with Endeavor, but even he could hear the fear in her voice. He clenched his teeth, feeling sick to his stomach with guilt. He didn’t want to make anyone scared. He didn’t mean to do this. He just wanted to make Endeavor notice him.
He wasn’t sure where Endeavor had wanted him to go, but Touya found himself outside, under the giant oak tree in their backyard. It was pouring rain, so heavy that even the great branches of the tree couldn’t protect him. He didn’t really mind, the November rain cooled him down, taking with it the heat of his body and the heat of the moment, and letting the true reality of what he did seep in.
Touya was still sitting in that same spot, hours later, when he saw the glint of red in the sky. It didn’t even take him a second to recognize it. Usually, he’d be relieved to see his friend coming to his rescue. But right now, it somehow made him feel even more hollow than he already had.
Touya had decided weeks ago exactly how he felt about Keigo, right after the younger boy betrayed him. He never needed him in the first place, really. Keigo had sought him out as a friend, he didn’t want him or need the younger boy at all. So it was hardly really a concern at all when he didn’t see Keigo around. And he only wandered around the CTC and lingered in the locker rooms after training so he could know when Keigo was coming. He had a whole elaborate plan about how he’d laugh off any of the fake apologies Keigo might try and give. He didn’t need more people in his life that didn’t truly care about him.
Eventually, he had caught a glimpse of Keigo in one of the training rooms, separated from all the other kids. He was around and just choosing not to talk to Touya. Sure, the President or his handlers might have had a small role in that, but Touya was honestly tired of Keigo blaming everything on them, anyway. If Keigo was really his friend, he wouldn’t keep putting the Commission and their stupid rules above his friendship with Touya.
So, no, Touya was not excited in the slightest to see his former best friend. The pang of relief he felt was probably just because he was tired of not knowing when he’d see Keigo again. You know, to yell at him.
Touya decided the silent treatment was the way to go. Start off with that and then, once Keigo talked first, Touya could get into the yelling and the laughing. He may have been emotionally drained, but he was pretty sure he could muster up enough anger to get in a few digs.
He deliberately didn’t look up as Keigo landed in front of him, choosing instead to dig a small hole in the dirt with his finger. He heard and felt Keigo’s flawless landing, the small rush of wind making Touya shiver a little. Keigo approached him slowly, as if worried he’d scare Touya.
“Touya…” Keigo said.
He didn’t need more than the one word. Keigo didn’t even quite sound that upset, he was way too good at masking his emotions for it to be that obvious. But Touya could sense it, almost. It was enough to kick him out of his haze of self-wallowing and his anger, focusing completely on Keigo.
Tears started to form, shining in Keigo’s eyes, but a smile played at his lips. It almost made Touya sick all over again.
“Keigo, what’s wrong?”
Keigo opened his mouth to answer, but all that came out was a choked out sob.
Touya wanted to be pissed. Somewhere inside him, he hadn’t forgotten about his plans or the way he felt betrayed by Keigo, but he was able to push them to the side. Even heartless Touya, attempted murderer of his toddler brother, couldn’t resist the tears slowly rolling down Keigo’s cheeks.
Seeing Keigo like this, crying, was different. And it wasn’t because he’d never seen Keigo cry, or because Keigo was too tough, it was because Keigo was actually the type of kid who would cry all the goddamn time. The sensitive type that believed inanimate objects had feelings and would get emotional looking at the wonders of nature and somehow end up weeping at a comedy film, but that had been stripped away from him at such a young age; first by his parents, then by the Commission. He’d been conditioned against it, like a dog being sprayed with water for bad behaviour, and the fact that he was allowing himself to do this right now, even if the Commission was far away, meant that whatever had happened was overriding years of training. This was bigger than Touya or his stupid grudge.
So he walked towards Keigo, opening up his arms. Keigo looked up immediately, almost too quickly, and a look of fear passed over his face so suddenly that Touya would’ve thought he had imagined it if he didn’t know better; he put a pin in that to ask about it later. Touya just nodded, offering a small smile, and Keigo finally leaned forward, basically falling into Touya’s arms.
They stood like that for a while until eventually Keigo spoke.
“You… you might have been right,” Keigo whispered, so quietly that Touya had to hold his breath and strain to hear it. “The Commission – my handlers, the President – I-I don’t know how I feel about them, but I understand what you were saying now. I – they’re not perfect.”
Touya nodded, stroking Keigo’s wings the way he knew the other boy liked. Keigo wasn’t looking for a response right now, and Touya knew that. He wanted comfort. He wanted validation. He wanted to be reminded that his friend cared. So, even if there was a tiny part of Touya who was still annoyed or angry at being left in the rain with a dislocated arm, he ignored that and decided to be there for his friend.
Eventually, he answered. “Hey, if it makes you feel any better, my old man sucks a little more than I thought he did, too.”
Keigo looked up, his amber eyes still shining with tears. “No,” he said, his voice wet and broken. “It doesn’t make me feel better. Touya, I-I’m sorry I tried to put being right above our friendship. It was messed up, and I’m sorry. Your dad sucks and I hate him, but I’ll let you pick what to call him.”
Touya smiled, the genuine apology melting away any grudge that was left right there and then. He wasn’t used to words of remorse being spoken so freely, or at all really. “Can we settle on asshole for now?” he finally responded.
“Yeah, asshole,” he giggled, and Touya was relieved that he was distracted enough to stop the tears. Keigo wiped his eyes on his sleeve, though it didn’t do much good, being soaking wet. That’s when Touya realized that Keigo must’ve flew all the way here in the pouring rain. It wasn’t really a long flight, but he knew Keigo hated flying in the rain, and even that little bit of dedication warmed his heart.
After a few moments, once Keigo collected himself again, he asked, “Do you want to talk about it? I mean, like actually talk and I listen, like a good friend. I promise I won’t butt in like I usually do. Just you talking and me listening, okay? I mean, only if you wanna talk. You don’t have to.”
Touya chuckled, finding it endearing how nervous Keigo was, and appreciating how hard he was trying. He hesitated for a second, wondering if he should dump his problems on Keigo when he seemed so sad. Eventually, he nodded, figuring if it made Keigo happy, talking couldn’t be the worst thing, and the smile he got in return proved his thesis. Keigo sat down against the tree, crossed his legs, and looked at Touya. His gaze was calm and comforting.
“Whenever you ready. No pressure,” he then added, putting his hands up in the air as a sort of surrender.
Touya gave a small laugh and nodded again. He sat down with Keigo, leaning against him, and let the younger boy envelop the two of them with his wings. He looked up at the sky, still not quite ready to look into someone’s eyes while being vulnerable, and realized it had stopped raining and the moon peaked out behind the clouds.
He looked at Keigo one more time and got a smile in return.
“Well, it all started two weeks ago…”