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“Shouto, time to eat!”
He stayed where he was as he heard the man’s footsteps move throughout the house. They got dangerously close to his hiding spot and he squeezed his eyes shut, holding his breath and hoping he didn’t open the door. They got quieter again and he let out a sigh of relief.
The door was wrenched open and light flooded the small closet. Before he could say anything there was a grip on his arm and he found himself being dragged to the kitchen.
“You thought you could hide from me,” his father scoffed.
He didn’t bother fighting back and just let himself be sat in a chair. He kept his mouth shut as the plate was put in front of him.
“Eat it.”
He shook his head.
“Eat it,” he repeated.
Shouto knew that tone well and picked up the chopsticks. He was sick of the healthy food he was forced to eat. He just wanted soba again like his mother used to make.
His father glared at him and he finally gave in, ducking down and beginning to eat. He didn’t know what fish it was but it was overcooked and he struggled to swallow. At least it was hard to mess up rice.
As soon as he was done he slid out of the seat and ducked down a hallway. He didn’t bother looking back and instead focused on where he was supposed to hide next. There was no going back to the closet if his father knew and every day was more of a struggle to fit behind the stairs.
He didn’t get to find a new spot as he turned a corner and ran straight into his father.
“When are you going to learn that fighting back is futile?”
“Never!” He tried to freeze the man’s arm to no avail and he was lead to the training hall.
“Save your strength. You know you’ll need it.”
He felt his stomach drop and scrambled to his feet again. The door was already locked.
“You’re not leaving until you either defeat me or can’t fight anymore. No exceptions.”
“But--!”
There was no time to protest as a knee connected with his stomach and he sunk to the mat. His stomach heaved and he just focused on keeping his lunch down. He couldn’t get up or even defend and he made a thin ice barrier. It did little to stop the next blow and a searing pain erupted across his back. One his wounds had reopened. The heat was suffocating and no amount of ice did anything to quell it.
He finally just closed his eyes and hoped his father would accept his defeat.
“Pathetic,” he spat. “You’ll never even make it as a second-rate hero, let alone one that can defeat All Might himself.”
“I don’t want to!” he cried.
“What you want doesn’t matter. You were born for this and this alone! I’m not about to let you throw it all away because you don’t want it.”
He slammed the door behind him and Shouto crawled to his feet. His whole body ached and his stomach still churned. After only a few steps out the door he felt it and ran to the bathroom, just making it before the retching began.
He wiped at his mouth and fought back tears. He felt so empty and everything hurt. He just wanted his mother, or at least his sister.
He must’ve fallen asleep because he was woken up by someone gently shaking him. He pried his cheek off the cool tile and blinked as Fuyumi came into focus.
“Oh, Shouto… he’s going to work you to death at this rate.”
His tongue felt too big for his mouth and he swallowed back the taste of bile. “What time is it?”
“I just got home. C’mon, let’s clean those wounds and I’ve got a treat for you.”
He no longer flinched at the sting of the peroxide. “I’m hungry,” he said quietly.
She stopped for a moment and pressed something into his hand. “I got two by pretending I’d dropped the first one.”
He tore the wrapper off and practically hummed as he stuck the lollipop in his mouth. It was cherry. “Thanks, ‘Yumi.”
“Alright, you’re all patched up. I’ll talk to him about giving you a few days break. You’re in no shape to fight and he’s only making things worse like this.”
He bit into the candy and it shattered, earning a laugh from the girl. She dug in her pocket and handed him the other. “You obviously need it more than I do.”
True to Fuyumi’s word, he didn’t have to train the next few days. He spent his time reading and exploring for a new hiding spot.
On the third day a voice he didn’t recognize called his name. He slowly made his way down the stairs and found his doctor waiting in the main hall. Of course his break in training hadn’t been from Fuyumi’s words, but because of an upcoming check-up. He was always given time to heal beforehand.
“It’s good to see you, Shouto. How are you feeling?”
He couldn’t very well say hungry. He just smiled and let the man test his reflexes.
Everything was fine until his father brought out the scale. The numbers stopped changing and the doctor’s breath caught. “Are you eating enough?” he asked. “You’re dreadfully thin!”
“Sometimes I get sick,” he said quietly.
“I’ll have to talk to your father about getting a supplement to get you some more protein.”
“Will it hurt?”
“Of course not! I know a kind that even comes in something like a milkshake.”
He just nodded and let the man finish his tests before saying goodbye. Instead of retreating to his room, he lingered at the top of the stairs. He knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, of course, but they were talking about him.
“I’ve ignored those countless burns and bruises but I simply cannot ignore his weight. Are you starving him?!”
“It’s not my fault if he can’t keep his food down. I’m giving him a balanced meal.”
“He’s dipping into dangerous territory… Forget about training him, he’s not going to have any energy at all! His immune system will suffer and his body might not be able to repair itself.”
“I’ve planned his diet. There’s nothing wrong with it.”
“You are not to have him undergo any more training until he’s put on at least ten pounds.”
“You seem to have forgotten your place, doctor.”
He set his jaw. “You don’t scare me, Mr. Todoroki. I might’ve taken your money but I won’t hesitate to report you to the authorities if I deem his life to be in danger.”
“...Very well. Good afternoon.”
The door shut loudly and he hurried to his room.
True to the man’s word, a glass of something that resembled strawberry milk awaited Shouto the next morning. The taste was off but he felt full for the first time in ages.
“You are to catch up on your studies while you… recover,” his father said.
The days passed slowly after that. Fuyumi snuck him more treats from school and always relaxed when she only had to redress old wounds. He even found himself smiling more as he shared all he’d learned that day.
He caught sight of his reflection one morning while changing out of his pajamas and almost didn’t recognize the person staring back at him. His ribs, which had been so defined only a few months earlier, were no longer visible. What shocked him the most was the absence of bruises all along his body. They’d finally faded and no new ones took their place, and even all of the scrapes and burns had faded. Save for the scar marring his face, he looked normal.
The doctor visited again after those two months and was greeted by a smiling Shouto.
“You seem more excited than usual,” he noted. “And your arms are noticeably bruise free.”
“I feel fine! No, I feel great!”
“Wonderful! And your weight?”
“Great!”
“That’s fantastic, Shouto. Just keep up with those supplements and you’ll be just fine with the reintroduced training.”
He stopped jumping around. “What?”
“Well, I couldn’t convince your father to stop forever. But you’re in no danger now so long as you keep up with the supplements like I said.”
He patted the boy on the head and started towards his father’s office. Shouto just stood there as the brief conversation ended and his father showed the doctor to the door.
“Now then,” he said, facing the boy, “it’s time to see just how weak you’ve gotten these past few months.”
The bruises he got from that session hurt more than any he could remember, and the burning in his throat as his stomach heaved was unbearable.