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Furtive glances were something he'd grown accustomed to over the years. They were unavoidable as the son of the Flame Hero Endeavor. These, however, weren't the curious looks of children as his father held his arm a bit too tightly and dragged him along to watch villain skirmishes. These people weren't discreet at all and stared at him as he walked down the street.
He knew why, of course. The hero enthusiast community had exploded after his confession. Suddenly his name was in every forum and people debated over whether he was a hero or a villain for telling the truth. Some called him an angel for enduring such horrible treatment all those years. Others thought he was a monster for sullying the reputation of their new Number One Hero.
He didn't care either way and just wanted to get home. The term had finally ended and he could be with Fuyumi, away from the prying eyes of the media.
He soon came to realize that wasn't going to happen as he turned onto his street and very nearly ran into a man holding a camera.
"Scuse me, kid. We're waiting for this Todoroki guy to come home."
Most of the street was filled with reporters or people who believed they could get close to him. The only way he would get inside was to walk through the crowd and pray they didn't recognize him in his Yuuei uniform.
His plan immediately failed as a woman with a microphone backed into him a quarter of the way to the front walk.
A dozen mics and handheld recorders were suddenly pushed in his direction.
"Young Todoroki, whatever made you spread the news of your father's abuse so suddenly?"
"Shouto Todoroki, what were you feeling before you went public with such shocking news?"
"Mr. Todoroki, do you have any lingering scars or burns from the abuse in question? If not, how are we to know this isn't some kind of publicity stunt in the wake of Endeavor becoming the Number One Hero?"
He tried to shield his face from the hungry, watchful eyes of the cameras and their owners. He'd nearly reached the gate when he was surrounded.
"Mr. Todoroki, how do you feel about–"
"Shouto, people are calling you a–"
"Is it true your brother turned to villainy and–"
"Stop it, all of you!" he yelled, his body temperature beginning to drop.
"Shouto!"
"Over here!"
"Todoroki!"
He swung around and tried to get a camera out of his face but it was too late: his emotions were already running high and his quirk activated. Ice shot from his fingers and a large group of reporters found themselves frozen to the spot.
Everything was silent except for the sound of someone dropping their equipment.
He couldn't handle so many people staring at him. It felt too much like–
His whole body shaking, he ran to the door and locked himself in. They'll grow bored if there's no story and eventually leave, he told himself. They're only here because they can't get close to Endeavor himself.
Finally daring to move away from the door, he drew the curtains closed and entered the kitchen. Instead of his sister he found chairs overturned and food spilling out of the fridge. His first instinct was that it had been a break-in but the doors had been locked and all the windows intact.
A note sat on the counter, the script broken yet familiar.
Shouto,
I know you never meant for this to happen but you shouldn't have made such a confession to the press. The house has been swarmed by people wanting answers I can't give them. Every day they come to the door demanding evidence of such a claim. Someone slashed the tires on my bike. I'm receiving threats and I don't know who they're from. I can't take this anymore. I'm going to stay with someone from the school until everything dies down. Please keep yourself safe and consider retracting your statement.
Fuyumi
So his sister had suffered a breakdown just like their mother eleven years ago. The thought of her finally snapping and ruining the kitchen in a fit pained him. She'd always been so nice to him.
He didn't dare look outside, as he knew what he'd find. Instead he uprighted the chairs and salvaged what food he could. When that was done he sorted through his bag and tidied up the rest of the house. Fuyumi's breakdown had been contained in the kitchen but dust still collected in the corners. His mother had always hated living in a dirty house. He could almost pretend he was preparing for her to come home as he cleaned.
He cleaned and cooked and drew himself a bath. As he sunk into the bubbles he found himself alone with his thoughts for the first time since the incident had started. Was he wrong for telling the truth? Nothing had happened since he attended Yuuei but he couldn't say the same for when he came home. Everything was more of a preemptive measure. He didn't know if Fuyumi had faced any further injury after he left, either. It was partially for her sake, as well as the sake of his brothers. Maybe they could finally come home. Maybe their mother could be reunited with them at last. Maybe–
He didn't even realize he was crying until the tears hit the water. All he'd wanted was for his family to be whole again. Instead he'd broken it beyond repair.
The reporters must've gotten an order not to return to headquarters until they got an interview, because the size of the crowd had barely shrunk overnight. They at least had the decency to not ring the bell or demand answers.
He changed into a polo and khaki shorts before slowly opening the door. No one approached him.
He felt like a bug under a microscope as he got closer to the mailbox. As soon as he stepped outside the gate he had microphones trained on him once more.
"Mr. Todoroki–"
"Shouto!"
"Over here!"
"Just look this way!"
The clicking shutters and mess of voices was too much. He grabbed the mail and was in the process of locking the gate when a hand grabbed his wrist. It was entirely too familiar and unpleasant, and all he could do was freeze in place. The others seemed to take it as an opportunity to get closer and he found himself surrounded again.
"Todoroki, just look at the camera and–"
"This is Kaito Takahashi reporting for Channel Seven News–"
"Give us a big smile and tell us what you think about–"
A lens got too close for comfort and the spell was broken. His arm igniting, he swatted it out of the way and screams rang out. He didn't have as much control over his quirk as he'd hoped and the camera was now a bubbling mess of plastic and glass.
They seemed to get the message and he tore out of the grip someone still had on him.
Only once he was inside did he extinguish the flames. No wonder Fuyumi had cracked under the pressure. With an ice quirk and an already timid nature she must've been unable to stand up to them.
How was he supposed to live if he couldn't even leave the house to get his mail?
He'd dropped the letters in question on the floor in his rush. The jagged red letters on the top envelope halted him again.
Yuuei can't protect you anymore.
It wasn't the only one of that fashion. Nearly half the stack was made up of unmarked envelopes with threatening messages.
Yes, he was beginning to understand what had happened to Fuyumi.
He left the mail on the counter and tried to clear his head. They meant nothing. Just Endeavor supporters who couldn't face him like any decent human.
Yet he couldn't shake the feeling of dread.
You hurt our hero. Now we'll hurt you.
Six days. It had been six days since the term ended. Since the reporters started their stakeout. Since he started getting the threatening letters. He had finally run out of decent food and decided he wasn't going to live on omurice until something exciting or dangerous happened to someone else and things went back to as normal as they could be.
But a simple shopping trip turned out to be much more difficult than he anticipated.
He assumed people understood basic manners, and thus that it was considered rude to stare. Apparently that didn't apply when you were the center of a scandal because all eyes seemed to be on him.
He stopped reaching for a carton of milk and whipped around to find a toddler in a shopping cart gawking at him.
"Mommy, isn't that the boy from–"
The little girl's mother gasped and hurried to another aisle. Well, if children knew his face then this was going to take much longer than he'd hoped.
He simply sighed and got his milk, checking his list. Chicken and pork were the only things left.
Fate seemed intent on making his life as rough as possible as he approached the deli counter and saw a familiar face. It was too late to turn back and a very excited Kirishima started waving his arms.
"Yo, Todoroki! Over here!"
He hoped he wasn't dragging his feet too noticeably as he feigned a smile for his classmate. "Please don't yell my name in public."
"Duh, I just forgot. Never thought I'd be so lucky as to see you during my boring summer job! Aww man, I was so afraid I'd go all summer without running into friends and suddenly I see you a week into things. So what are you up to besides dealing with a scandal?"
The murderous glare he got in return was enough to keep him from cracking another joke.
"Sorry. What can I get you?"
"A half pound of chicken and another of beef. Not the super high quality but not the generic."
He did as he was told and offered a smile as he gave it to the other boy. "I meant what I said earlier, y'know. How are you handling all this?"
He laughed without humor. "This is the first time I've left my house in almost a week," he admitted.
Kirishima's playful smile immediately vanished but he didn't seem to notice. "Reporters have been stalking my house ever since the term ended. My sister had a breakdown and left to stay with a friend from the school she teaches at."
"Dude..."
"Sorry, I shouldn't be wasting your time. You don't want to hear about that anyway."
"No, it's fine–!" he started, but Shouto was already walking away and someone new stepped up to the counter.
"I need a pound of that meat thinly sliced and a half pound of the other even thinner. Are you even listening? Thinly sliced!"
He waved them off and watched as his classmate approached the register. The cashier did a double take as she realized who he was but began dutifully scanning his items.
Then he was gone and a hand wrapped in his collar pulled him back. "Kirishima!" his manager snapped. "Get back to work or find yourself another job!"
"Y-Yes sir!"
But as he helped people with their orders he couldn't get the face Todoroki made out of his head. He might've been smiling but there was so much sadness in those mismatched eyes.
He needed to text his friends. Something had to be for the poor guy.
A week had gone by since that first shopping trip and he'd only gone out once more. A simple change of clothes and some cheap wash out hair dye helped him avoid recognition and prevent any further disaster.
The same could not be said for when he returned home that evening.
The setting sun seemed to be trying to rival the temperature of his fire and the dye was dripping down his face as he sweated. By the time he reached the house his hands were stained brown and he was afraid the fish had spoiled.
He was stopped on his street not by reporters, who had finally left the day before, but by someone in a mask.
"Excuse me," he said, "I'm just trying to get home."
"Shouto Todoroki, right?"
"...Yes, and you are?"
Before he knew it he was surrounded by masked figures. Upon closer inspection he realized they were crude drawings of Endeavor.
Oh. His father's supporters. The authors of the threatening letters.
He didn't even have time to activate his quirk before he was pinned down and a rag was shoved in his mouth.
You hurt our hero. Now we'll hurt you.
"How'd you get that scar, hmm? Are you gonna say your Daddy gave it to you?"
All he could do was scream. The asphalt beneath him felt like it was made of magma, having baked in the sun all day. He couldn't concentrate long enough to ignite his left side.
Before he could do anything they poured something on him and the acrid tang burnt his nose.
He struggled even more as he realized it was gasoline. They were going to set him on fire.
Then he saw the flicker of a match out of the corner of his eye.
That was the last straw. His attackers drew back as three inches of ice suddenly coated his right side and his left was engulfed in flames. The gasoline provided a fuel and he could feel his ice shield melting immediately.
Even as he grew defenseless once more they ran off. Apparently they couldn't handle a little fire.
As he shakily got to his feet he realized his groceries were spilled across the street. Perhaps the more pressing issue was the series of blistering burns along his arm.
He limped inside the house, shaking off the last of the ice, and collapsed on the couch.
You hurt our hero. Now we'll hurt you.
He studied his hand, still shaking slightly. What would they have done if he hadn't used his quirk? Would they have gone so far as to kill him? Or just burn him beyond recognition and leave him for dead?
Suddenly the other threats felt much more real.
A knock at the door jolted him from his thoughts and he nearly jumped a foot in the air. Were they back to finish what they'd started?
He hurried up to his room and looked out the window. He couldn't see anyone and scowled. Did one of them have a cloaking quirk?
He waited a few minutes and it happened again. Curiosity outweighing frustration, he approached the door and waited.
Again. Three sharp raps and then silence.
He didn't know what to expect when he finally opened it but it certainly wasn't a floating pair of gloves. "...Hagakure?"
"Todoroki!" she exclaimed, confirming his suspicions.
"Why are you at my house?"
"Umm, well... it wasn't really my idea, but–"
He could only watch as most of his classmates appeared seemingly out of nowhere. "How...?"
"Yaoyorozu made a camouflage tarp for everyone to hide under," the invisible girl explained.
"Okay but why–"
"I did not approve of everyone sneaking out of the house but we are all here regardless!" Iida yelled from somewhere within the group.
"You have me and Kirishima to blame for that," Midoriya said shyly, stepping forward. "He said he saw you in the grocery store and that you weren't doing well on your own."
Everyone seemed to be staring at his new burns and he tried to hide his arm. "I'm finally being left alone. I appreciate the concern but–"
"Bullshit," a voice scoffed from the back of the crowd. "Don't you dare say you're fine, you half-and-half bastard."
"As much as I don't wish to associate myself with Bakugou's phrasing, he makes an excellent point," Iida said. "Failure to take care of such a would could result in permanent damage and scarring."
"There's also your mental state," Midoriya said hurriedly. "You don't have to act strong all the time."
He stared at the crowd before him. "...Alright, come on in."
"What?"
"There are some people out there who want to hurt me and I'd rather you guys not be associated with me for your own safety. I can tell that means nothing to you though, so either come inside and get away from the windows or leave. We can discuss this inside."
Suddenly the Todoroki household was filled with more people than he could ever remember. Regardless of the tense mood, people complimented the style or wandered around the first floor.
"Iida, I know you're following me," he said as he made his way to the kitchen.
"You simply must treat that wound or–"
"Or I'll have another scar? I know how to deal with fire."
There was no way to respond to that and the class representative simply frowned.
He continued to follow the other boy and eventually Shouto sighed. "If I let you fix me will you leave me alone?"
"Of course! I'm just concerned for your well being."
"...Fine. There's all kinds of medicine upstairs."
That's how he found himself sitting on the floor with his class representative and tentatively explaining all that had happened in the past two weeks. Iida didn't say anything but nodded every once in awhile and wrapped his arm in gauze.
When they went back downstairs everyone had calmed down and claimed seats for themselves. He gave a small smile and slid to the floor again. "Maybe someone can fill me in on what's going on."
"We've decided that some of us will go shopping so you don't get recognized. The rest will stay here and help you clean up and make sure nobody comes to the door," Kirishima explained. "I can even use my employee discount!"
"We can make it into a sleepover," Midoriya said excitedly. "I'm sure you have spare pillows and blankets, and Yaoyorozu can make anything else with her quirk!"
The girl sighed, although she was smiling. "It always comes down to me, doesn't it?"
"You won't do it...?"
"How can I say no to a face like that? Especially when it's for the greater good. I'll just need to eat something beforehand."
"All right!"
"I've never had this many people who cared about me before," Shouto said quietly.
"After all the weird stuff that we've been through, we're practically a family!" Midoriya said cheerfully. "We've got Team Moms Ojiro and Iida–"
"What?!" the two cried simultaneously.
"Aizawa-sensei and All Might are sorta like Dads... And everyone else is just part of it. I'm too tired to come up with labels," he said with a yawn.
Shouto laughed, startling everyone. "Then this is the first real family I've been a part of."
"Let's get this sleepover started!" Ashido yelled. "Bakugou, Kirishima, Sero and Kaminari! It's time to go shopping!"
"And why the fuck am I involved?"
He got his answer as Kirishima dragged him out by the arm.
Shouto couldn't help but smile as he rummaged through closets for pillows and blankets.
Your blood doesn't define you, his mother had told him all those years ago. Apparently his blood didn't define his family either.
"I think I want you guys to meet my mom someday," he said he he came back downstairs. "She'd definitely want to meet my family."
Midoriya's eyes shone. "You mean it?!"
"He wouldn't have said it if he didn't mean it," Uraraka said, ruffling his hair.
He grabbed a pillow out of his arms and whacked her with it.
Well. That started a pillow fight that would become the biggest show of quirks he had ever seen.
He was tired. He grabbed a blanket and chose a spot relatively out of the line of fire. As he drifted off to sleep, he thought about how grateful he was for his friends. Even if it did take a scandal for them to approach him.
And if Bakugou's crew came back around 3AM and stepped on him, he wasn't to blame for the ice that froze them to the floor.