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With the money he’d stolen from his dad’s room before he slipped out of his bedroom window, Touya bought assortment of medical supplies that would help him survive the night. All of it was familiar with him: bandages, burn ointment, salve, water, whatever he could get his hands on. The cashier probably thought he was a pyromaniac or an arsonist. He wasn’t entirely wrong. Fire was in his blood, and it was burning through him, eating away at him from the inside out.
It wasn’t enough.
He knew his firepower was stronger than his father’s. His old man could raise his flames above normal temperatures, but not like Touya. To him, that incredible heat came naturally. He was four when his flames first flickered to white in his palms. His father had been so proud and excited - or maybe he had simply been greedy. It was hard to say these days. After passing out so many times and having the doctor called and a few unavoidable hospitalizations, there was so much he couldn’t remember.
However, it was impossible to forget the way his father tossed him aside like a piece of trash once Shouto’s perfect quirk manifested. Half Hot/Half Cold - exactly what he wanted. He had inherited the parts of their mother that their father wanted, unlike Touya. He was a masterpiece. Even if Touya’s firepower was obviously stronger than both of theirs, his body couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t handle it.
Their father was wrong. He could take it. He’d prove that bastard wrong.
Touya hated his training and never wanted to do it, but he was terrified and devastated when the day finally came. He’d reached an age where he should’ve learned his father’s special technique to allow his flames to reach their highest temperature. With his quirk, it would’ve been much easier to reach. His father very rarely used blue flames, but when he did, they were so cool. Touya knew he could do the same. He’d never succeeded, but he got close. He just got scared and shied away when he got there.
He could do it though. He knew he could. All he had to do was push himself. He’d done it so many times before; he could do it again. Those other times had always been for his dad and under his scrutiny, but in this back alley near a shady clinic, this one was for himself.
Setting his backpack filled with his medical supplies down, Touya pushed up the sleeves of his shirt. He hadn’t properly trained with his quirk for a few years, so his arms didn’t look horrendous. There were still burn scars along them, of course, but a lot of them had healed. Some of them never would. He would be forever marked by his past. Maybe he’d be unblemished if he’d seen the Youthful Heroine Recovery Girl who sometimes treated heroes severe wounds outside of UA, but his father never allowed that.
It didn’t matter. After this, he was no doubt going to have a few more scars to add to the litany on his body, but it would be worth it. Too weak to learn his dad’s specialty move? Fuck that. He was going to do it on his own. He knew how. If there was one thing he didn’t need his dad around for, it was to know how to use his quirk. He could push himself just fine on his own. The only thing he needed to do was to conquer his own fears and reservations. Once he did that, he’d be unstoppable.
The moment he matched that temperature, he’d be able to repeatedly wield it. The fire would come naturally to him without pushing it again. He could create white flames and hold them in his palms with ease as long as he didn’t let them spread. Fuck his dad. Fuck his stupid specialty power.
It would be his.
Holding out his hands palms up, Touya closed his eyes and did a few breathing exercises. He had to mentally prepare himself for the pain. It was going to hurt like a motherfucker. Before he was ready to try for real, he opened his eyes and activated his quirk, conjuring white flames in his palms. A smirk tugged at his lips. See? Nothing to it. All he had to do was go a little harder, and he’d prove to himself that his father had been wrong about him.
Too weak? Too weak ? His dad was the weak one. He couldn’t keep his flames even this hot for too long without overheating.
He deactivated his quirk and doused the flames. Smoke rose in the air, but his hands didn’t hurt. Even if most of his body was ice resistant, his hands had blessedly been spared. The one quirk specialist his father allowed to examine him after the fire in his bedroom said that he was something like a chimera. Parts of him were fire resistant, but the majority of him was not.
“That’s the risk you run when you combine elemental quirks,” the doctor had said, patting a young Touya on the head. He’d known the truth, of course - tried to hide it from his dad in hopes of his body somehow growing into his quirk, like it did feet or ears - but it still hurt to hear it said aloud. “His body is more suited for ice than fire. He’ll never be able to use his quirk to its full potential.”
The smirk fell from his face as he hardened his gaze. The implication was that he would never be able to fully use his quirk without hurting himself. Touya didn’t give a shit about that. He’d hurt himself plenty of times, most of the time under his father’s watchful eyes. He could still get there. All he had to do was go Plus Ultra, right?
Touya took a few more deep breaths through his nose and then smacked his face. “C’mon, you can do this. You got this. Just- Push yourself. This is your power. Fuck what everyone else said.” He closed his eyes and smacked himself harder. The only way he was going to be able to do this if he really psyched himself up. The smacks reminded him of his father - of his own pain, his fear, his rage. If he could capitalize on those emotions, then he’d be able to take that next step. “You can do this.”
He opened his eyes, held out his hands, and activated his quirk. White flames came up immediately. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he slowly eased his quirk further. Sweat beaded his forehead. It wasn’t enough. He couldn’t go slow. Even worse, his quirk fought back against him. It was so hot, so strong, so hungry. It wanted more too. His flames had to be bigger if he was going to make them hotter.
Gritting his teeth, he allowed the fire to grow to cover most of his hands. He thought they might’ve flickered colors, but the moment the fire swept over his wrists, he hissed in pain and deactivated his quirk more out of reaction than anything else. As soon as the flames vanished, he swore viciously and slammed a hand against the wall, the heat leftover from his palm searing a black mark into the brick.
“Damnit!” Touya smacked the wall, again and again and again. “Damnit! Damnit! Damnit!”
Staggering away, he clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly. What was wrong with him? He knew he was capable of it. He knew he was going to get hurt. There was no way to avoid it. Once he was able to produce the hottest flames possible, he could do them at any size or level. He wouldn’t have to go all out every time.
He had to let go. Of everything. He had to burn it all out of him. His family, his dreams, his fears, himself. If he was going to do this, he had to destroy everything in his wake. Let go. Let go.
“C’mon, you stupid, little shit, you pathetic bastard,” Touya growled. He pressed his hands hard against his head, ignoring the heat, and squeezed his eyes shut. With everything else flooded from his mind, the only thing left in him was his rage. That could stay. It was fuel to the fire, and he could keep pouring it on all day to keep that fire going. “Show him you’re stronger! Prove him wrong! Stop being so goddamn weak and fucking do something!”
He threw his hands down and activated his quirk, pushing it as hard as he could go. No, harder. Hotter. His entire body began to shake, his hands trembling as the flames built up in them. Even with his eyes still closed, he could see the firelight from behind his eyelids, glowing white hot.
Harder.
The flames licked at his wrists, searing the skin, but instead of deactivating his quirk, he pushed them even more. He couldn’t stop. The scent of burning flesh wafted into his nose, and he nearly threw up, but he didn’t stop.
Stronger.
He could feel the fire crawling up his arms, eating his skin, searing him like meat over an open flame. It was excruciating. Tears leaked out of his eyes, and he bit his tongue to keep from screaming, blood spilling into his mouth. The metallic taste combined with the scene of his body being burned alive made him feel more dead than alive, but he didn’t stop.
Brighter.
It clawed around his neck, over his collarbone and shoulders, choking him, sucking away all the oxygen in the air around him. The fire consumed everything in its wake, even him. Smoke poured out of his mouth when he finally opened his mouth to let out a horrible, pained cry. He didn’t stop. He screamed through the gruesome pain and pushed his quirk to a limit he’d never let himself go before. He had always been too afraid. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do it anymore.
“C’MON! DO IT, YOU FUCKING COWARD! DO IT!”
The fire exploded and so did he, rising to a terrible monster he’d never known before but always felt boiling underneath his skin.
When he snapped his eyes open, his vision swam, turning blurry and black before he finally came to and noticed the blue. It was bright and beautiful. Swarming, swaying, perfect blue flames. He knew in his heart that they would always be this way. Never again would he create a flame akin to his father’s. His fire would be different - it was his and only his. No one else could hold a candle to him, not even the Number Two Hero or his masterpiece.
Laughter bubbled from him, unbidden and out of nowhere. He tilted his head back and laughed so loudly that his chest shook. Tears streamed down his cheeks, turning into steam from the heat. He dropped to his knees, the pain so unbearable that he felt nothing. He was beyond pain - beyond fear - beyond anything he’d ever felt. He was so hot that he couldn’t breathe, but he couldn’t stop laughing either.
He did it! He did what his father said he wasn’t capable of doing!
His dropped his head down to stare at his hands. They were covered in brilliant blue flames, the same color as his eyes, shaking so violently that the flames trembled around them.
He gasped for air in between wild laughs until they turned into screams and then laughter again. He couldn’t stop. He should stop, but he didn’t know how. He couldn’t stop laughing and burning and he’d done it, he won, he won, Look, Mom, I am stronger than he knows just like you said, stronger than Shouto, I can burn brighter, I can be strong isn’t it funny when he thought I was so weak you thought I was too weak for your power but I’m not I’m not I’m