Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Someone was following him, a hooded figure slipping through the crowds. Shit, Shouto had thought he could have lasted at least a little bit longer... It’d only been a few hours since he’d run away from the Todoroki mansion, backpack in hand. The news couldn’t have spread that fast, could it?

No, no it couldn’t have. Shouto was being paranoid, his father’s constant warnings of vigilance getting to him. He was fine.

Somebody moved past him, cold fingers brushing his wrist. In the crowd, Shouto couldn’t tell who it was. His heart pounded in his chest, palms clammy.

It was nothing. Just an accident. 

The thought that maybe it wasn’t just an accident rang in his mind when Shouto was roughly grabbed and hauled from the street into darkness. His feet stumbled over one another, unable to see where he was going.

Shouto blinked, but the darkness didn’t falter. He couldn’t hear anyone either, nothing but the own ringing of his heart.

He instinctively went to use his quirk but paused, considering. His quirk could be recognisable, and he didn’t want to give them any clues on the off chance they didn’t know his identity. Let alone the fact that it would be illegal quirk usage and may draw unwanted attention to him.

Give us the contents of your bag and you won’t die.

Shouto gasped, ears ringing. The voice resonated inside his head, pounding against his brain. It hurt.

But he couldn’t give him the bag, it was all he had. Shouto gripped his backpack even tighter, stepping backwards, fingers outstretched in hope for the solid touch of a wall, something to balance himself against. He stumbled on nothing, falling backwards painfully onto his butt.

His throat closed up. He couldn’t see, his head hurt, and now his back throbbed with pain as well. 

How had he thought he could do this? How had he thought he’d be able to survive out on his own? He was only seven, he shouldn’t be out here, should have listened to his father. Incapable, pathetic, not strong enough yet.

The criminals would take his stuff and he would have to go back to his father, crawling on his hands and knees. He’d have to beg for his father’s forgiveness, but it wouldn’t come easy. He would be so mad, it would be worse than the other times so much worse he couldn’t - 

Blue fire scorched the air in front of him. The blackness receded from Shouto’s eyes. He could finally see where he was, but it didn’t help much, only revealing an unfamiliar alleyway. A man stood in front of him, arm out in a protective stance. Protective of Shouto.

Screams filled the air. Shouto’s eyes flickered over to look for the source. The man above him shifted, kneeling down in front of Shouto so he couldn’t see past him. That didn’t stop Shouto from hearing the screams. 

But they were criminals, right? Heroes didn’t kill, but they did hurt sometimes. It was unavoidable.

Just as Endeavor would say, sometimes pain was necessary.

The appearance of the man in front him distracted Shouto from those dark thoughts. All he could think about were the blue eyes on that horribly scarred face, the oh so familiar blue.

“Fuck, Shoutouto, you really know how to get in trouble, huh?”

Shouto frowned reflexively at the words before pausing.

Wait.

Shoutouto. Blue fire. Those eyes.

“Touya-nii?” Shouto gasped.

“Who else?” The man - Touya - snorted. “Shoutouto, what the fuck were you doing?”

Shouto was suddenly very aware he was sitting in the middle of a dark alleyway dressed in the most shifty looking clothes possible, talking to a brother that was supposed to be dead. He pulled his backpack closer to him, containing the meagre scraps he’d managed to get in the short time he had between deciding to leave and actually doing so.

“Touya-nii, how are you alive? What were you even doing for so long?” Shouto asked instead of answering.

Three years was a long time, after all, and with all those scars…

Touya shrugged. “Hiding from father, duh. Like you’re clearly trying to do.”

Shouto stiffened. Touya noticed his reaction and rolled his eyes. “Come on, it’s obvious. Hoodie? Backpack? You’re practically screaming runaway. No wonder those villains attacked you.”

Shouto tightened his hands on his backpack straps. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“Hey, no criticism here, it’s better than what I did.”

“What did you do?” Shouto asked curiously.

Another villain leapt out of the darkness, clothes smoking, screaming in rage.

Touya immediately flicked his wrist and the villain was enveloped in his blue flames.  Even at this distance, the heat would have been unbearable to anyone but Shouto. The villain stood no chance. Shouto watched the fire die down, leaving nothing behind but ashes.

“I died, remember?” Touya said drily.

Shouto swallowed. Touya had just killed two men, right in front of him. Touya’d killed them to protect Shouto. He could still smell their burning flesh. Two people were dead because they’d chosen the wrong target. Because they’d chosen Shouto. But they were going to kill him anyway, if Touya hadn’t stepped in. That was more than his father had ever done for him. It was like he was five again, Touya jumping forward to try and keep Shouto away from Endeavor’s hand. Touya had done what he could to keep Shouto safe then; now, he was still the same person, except his methods had become more extreme. Shouto should feel bad, he knew he should… but it was his brother. His brother versus a couple of criminals. Shouto knew what side he would take.

Staring up into his brother’s blue eyes, he only felt protected. Not scared. Not afraid. Safe .

Touya turned on his heel and ambled away, hands in his pockets. Shouto watched him go, frozen in his spot. In the dark his brother looked more like a ghost than anything else. Maybe that was how he had survived so long, born to live here in the streets rather than the burning light of the world of the Todorokis.

Touya stopped at the end of the alleyway and looked back at Shouto, the elder brother silhouetted in the light of a streetlamp. Moonlight glinted off his staples, a halo surrounding his scarred visage.

“Are you coming or not?”

Oh. Shouto’s palms felt sweaty. He didn’t know why he’d just assumed Touya would leave him. Assumed that this sibling would be taken away from him too, taken twice over.

He shouldn’t have. Of course Touya wouldn’t leave him. He could trust his brother. He always could.

Shouto ran after his long-thought-dead brother to stand by his side. He stared up at him, and for the first time in a long while, saw hope.

That hope persisted even after seeing the state of Touya’s living conditions. His brother was staying in a small room in an abandoned house, the only room still with all four walls. It felt precarious, ready to crumble at any moment. Shouto loved it. It was nothing like the cold steadiness of the Todoroki mansion, where everything was built to the highest standards imaginable.

No, this was the real world, this was what real people lived in. Maybe it was dirty and dank, but it was different. Just like he’d wanted.

Touya sank onto a mattress pushed into the corner. Shouto hesitantly went to sit beside him, still staring up at his brilliant blue eyes.

Touya looked at him out of the corner of his eye. “Stop staring, kid, it’s getting creepy.”

“You’re alive, it’s weird,” Shouto said unapologetically. He reached out with one hand, hesitating only inches away from Touya’s face.

Touya didn’t move away, only continuing to look at Shouto. With the implicit permission, Shouto moved closer, fingers touching the roughened skin of his scars. It felt tough and scratchy, a different texture from his own scar. He traced the line where scars met healthy skin, held together only by staples, feeling the difference where smooth turned to harsh interspersed by thin metal piercings. He recognised fire damage when he saw it.

“You good there?” Touya finally asked, breaking the silence.

Shouto flushed slightly and moved his hand to his lap. His brother felt so real, so alive. He hadn’t seen any of his other siblings in what felt like and may as well have been forever. It was odd, Shouto reflected, to be sitting in the presence of the one he’d thought for sure he’d never have the chance to see again.

“Just making sure you’re real,” Shouto mumbled.

Touya sighed, a low rumble of a noise. “Of course I’m real, Shoutouto. I’m real, and never leaving you again, you got that? I left you for far too long in that house to leave you now.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” A lump formed in Shouto’s throat. Of course he’d wanted someone to help him, someone to come take the pain away, but in the end the only person he could trust to do it was himself.

“Hmph. Maybe,” Touya muttered. 

Shouto knew Touya was still blaming himself. But he shouldn’t. It was Endeavor’s fault, their father’s fault. Not their own.

At a loss of how to convince his brother with words, Shouto wrapped his arms around Touya. Touya froze in his grasp. He was stick thin, Shouto able to feel Touya’s rib cage even through his shirt. 

“You’re here now,” Shouto whispered. “You came for me.”

Shouto felt Touya’s arms shift, moving to support him. Shouto buried his face in his brother’s shirt. The fabric was rough, nothing like the sanitised cotton blends he was used to. It smelled of ash, deep and smoky. He breathed it in gladly. This was his brother. He was here, right here. And he wasn’t going to leave this time.

“I want to dye my hair,” Shouto declared a few days later, head resting on his elbows while he lay on their dank mattress. 

He’d been thinking about it a lot since going with Touya. He knew his appearance was too recognisable. He couldn’t do much about the scar but he could alter his hair. And he knew Touya dyed his, he could see the white roots peeking out even as his brother sat at their wobbly table a few steps away. Shouto hadn’t left the house since arriving, and he was getting restless. It was no one’s fault, he knew he had to do this to keep Endeavor off his back, but still. It would be nice to go outside again, and hair dye was a legitimate reason.

Touya jerked up from where he was re-applying his staples. He accidentally pulled one out of his skin and hissed as blood pooled up from the holes left behind.

“Couldn’t have asked at a better time, Shoutouto?” Touya said waspishly.

Shouto waited until Touya had put down the staple and cleaned up some of the blood. Very slowly, with all the patience of a dying man.

“I want to dye my hair,” Shouto repeated. 

“I heard you the first time.” Touya grumped. ”It’s a good idea. What colour do you want?”

“I want to choose it myself,” Shouto said stubbornly. “I want to go with you to buy it.”

A staple twitched on Touya’s jaw. “Shouto,” He began slowly, “You are aware there is a national manhunt for you going on right now.”

Shouto crossed his arms and pouted. He was aware he wasn’t being the most reasonable, but he really wanted to go outside. Touya was so clever, surely he could figure out a way?

“I’m bored,” Shouto whined. “It’d just be going to the shop, it’ll be fine.”

Touya took a deep breath. Held it. Exhaled. 

“Okay,” he relented. “I don’t want to be like him, and clearly you want to go, so. I don’t want to stop you.”

Shouto’s lips turned up into a slight smile. His brother was so nice. So different from their father.

“But,” Touya picked up a staple and waggled it at him. “We’re taking precautions. You’re going to listen to everything I say, alright?”

Shouto nodded, eyes wide. Of course he would listen, he was good at that. It was what he was made to do.

“Outside you call me Dabi, got that? Only time you call me Touya is in here. We’ll need a name for you too.”

A new name, a new him. Free from the bonds of his family, from the pressure of the lineage of being a Todoroki. It had to be good, something as innately powerful as Dabi.

“Toushou,” Shouto breathed. It was perfect, it was everything, Touya was definitely going to love it - 

Touya snorted. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“I like it.” Shouto frowned. 

Touya sighed, moving to sit next to Shouto on the bed. He felt the mattress dip underneath them, the springs squeaking below the brothers. 

“Shoutouto, it’s literally your name, but backwards. Any idiot with a brain could figure out it’s you. Why’d you even choose that?”

“I like it being close to my name, and it matches yours. Frostbite to cremation,” Shouto explained carefully.

Touya looked up to the ceiling. “That’s cute and all, but it’s too fu- fricking obvious.”

“But - ”

“You said you’d listen, right? Then trust me on this, you need a different name,” Touya said.

“Like Dabi is any better?” Shouto argued. 

Touya poked his finger into Shouto’s nose. “Dabi is fucking perfect and I won’t hear a word against it.”

“If you get Dabi, I get Toushou,” Shouto insisted, slapping Touya’s finger away, leaving behind trails of frost.

Touya groaned. “You’re going to be the death of me, I swear.”

“I thought you already did that,” Shouto said, blinking sweetly up at his brother.

Touya placed his hand on Shouto’s head and shoved it into the bed. 

It wasn’t hard enough to hurt, just enough to mess up his hair and completely screw up his parting. Shouto picked through what he could see of his fringe to try and rearrange it back to it’s previous neatness. Without a mirror, he couldn’t do much, so Shouto crossed his arms and scowled.

Touya had moved back to the table, continuing his job of restapling his skin. Shouto found it kind of gross how little Touya seemed to care about medical cleanliness. Heating metal in Touya’s fire until it glowed burnt orange was probably enough, though. He trusted his brother.

“If we go out, we’ll need to disguise you. You got any masks in that bag of yours? Hats or anything?” Touya asked.

Shouto nodded, pulling them out on the bed from his backpack. He’d only found medical masks and beanies, but they wouldn’t do much seeing as his eye would still be uncovered. There was little he could do about that, makeup being too easy to come off if he ever decided to use his frost. And anyway, getting the kind of makeup that would be strong enough to cover it up would be more expensive than what both of them had available. The meagre scraps of cash Shouto had wasn’t much and however Touya got his money didn’t give them an awful lot to spend on luxuries.

Touya must have realised the same thing because he didn’t look too happy, eyes roaming over Shouto’s collection.

“I’ll have to go get something that covers your full face. Wait here, alright?”

“Okay, Dabi-nii,” Shouto said, experimentally testing out the nickname. He liked the sound of it, the way the word rolled around in his mouth. Despite his protests, Dabi was a good name. So was Toushou.

Touya made a muffled choking sound. Shouto wondered if he was okay.

“Yeah, you’ll be fine,” Touya said, voice half strangled. “I’ll just, uh. Go, then.”

Shouto watched him wander out of the room, and laid back on the bed. Soon, he would be going outside, and he was excited.

Touya didn’t take long, coming back with a bag full of masks. Shouto noted the smears of ash on his cheeks and cleverly decided not to ask. Learning when not to ask about things was a valuable skill amongst the brothers.

He threw the bag on the bed and Shouto jumped to it, shifting through the masks. There were so many types, all different shapes. He pulled out one with a huge heart imprinted on the front and stared at Touya.

Touya shrugged. “It was a random selection, I didn’t choose that.”

Shouto huffed, chucking it to the side. He found one with a white skull face on black fabric, one that would cover his face but not his hair. He quite liked it, despite how much it would attract attention. The shape of it was like Touya’s scars, black holes for eyes and under the mouth. He traced the lines of it, the smooth curves imprinted into it.

“I like this one,” Shouto declared.

“Of course you would like the emo skull mask,” Touya mumbled.

Shouto ignored him, picking up the mask and slipping the black band over his head. The eye holes were covered in a mesh that meant he could still see out while others couldn’t see in. It wasn’t too hard to breathe in it, thankfully. For something covering his entire face, it was as comfy as it could be.

He pulled on a beanie, smooshing it down over his hair to hide the split. He flicked his hood up and over it, and went over to yank Touya’s arm. 

“I’m ready, let’s go now,” Shouto said.

Touya rolled his eyes but he couldn’t hide his smile. “Let’s go then, Toushou.”

“Okay, Dabi,” Shouto echoed as they left the building.

Getting to the shop was a surprisingly peril-free affair. Shouto was tense, sure Endeavor would pounce out of the shadows. Anyone around him could be an officer in disguise, watching and waiting. Ready to drag him back to that house of hell.

Shouto reached up with one hand to grab Touya’s own. His palm was warm, a soothing balm to Shouto’s concern.

Touya didn’t seem to know what to do with it at first but soon let his fingers curl around Shouto’s own. Even though this didn’t really provide any protection, Shouto felt much calmer with Touya’s hand wrapped around his.

Some people stared at his mask, but most were content to ignore them. He saw a few other people with similar masks and felt a weird bond. Sure, they were likely wearing them because of physical mutations, but still. It was like a little secret Shouto shared with only those people. With his face covered, it felt like a shield blocking everything out. Giving Shouto space to breathe.

Nothing happened on the way to the shop and Shouto let himself finally relax.

Shouto stood in front of the array of hair colours, staring up at the display. There were so many. It felt powerful to think that whatever colour he chose would be the one to end up replacing Endeavor’s permanent mark in his hair. He could go black, like Touya, or he could go crazy and choose something wild.

He knew his father hated some of the more extreme hair colours, calling them garish like his fiery red was any better. With that in mind, Shouto picked up a packet of dye and handed it to Touya.

Touya looked at it and stared.

“Toushou,” Touya said eventually.

“Yes?” Shouto replied.

“This is bright pink.”

It was, in fact, bright pink. His brother really was clever.

“You want this? Bright pink?” Touya asked.

“Yes,” Shouto said. It was perfect, a colour he knew Endeavor would never have wanted for himself or any of his children. And Touya had said he could pick any colour, so.

Touya heaved a sigh and grabbed a bottle of bleach for Shouto and a package of black dye for himself, chucking them both into his basket.

“Anything else you want while we’re here?” Touya asked.

Shouto’s eyes fell on the candy aisle. All those colours. It was so vibrant. So unhealthy. None of them would be beneficial for training.

Shouto grabbed as many as he could, until he couldn’t carry any more. He nudged Touya’s side with his elbow.

Touya simply looked at the many packets contained in Shouto’s arms and sighed.

“He didn’t like sweets, did he?”

Shouto didn’t say anything, simply pouring his cache into the now-full basket.

“Fine, but this isn’t going to be a regular thing, alright?” Touya mumbled as they approached the checkout. Shouto dumped his items onto the self-checkout and began swiping them through.

Maybe now Touya was saying it wouldn’t be a regular thing, but Shouto was sure he could convince him. Father would have never allowed something like this at all, his diet carefully restricted to benefit his health. Touya wasn’t like that.

Something flickered bright red on the TV screen in the corner, and Shouto couldn’t help but look. Right there, Endeavor stood. His flames flickered at half mast, a controlled fire to not burn the masses of journalists swarming him.

Finally, he began to speak, and Shouto’s heart sped up. He was talking about Shouto.

“... I am deeply affected by the loss of my son, but I will not allow it to affect my hero work. I will do all I can both in my private and public life to search for him. Those delusional villains who took him will be met with the full force of Endeavor, that I promise...”

How dare he. How dare his father look so sad, so caring. How dare this be the first time he ever treated Shouto with anything other than anger. And it was all fake. Made up for the sake of the journalists. For the sake of his image.

It had barely been a week and he was already going back to heroics. He said it was for Shouto, but Shouto knew better. It was never about him. Everything his father ever did was to beat All Might. His honeyed words might convince the masses, but they would never convince Shouto.

A hand landed on Shouto’s shoulder. He flinched and ice spiralled along his jumper sleeve.

“I know,” a voice hissed in Shouto’s ear. “I get it, alright? But you’re making a scene, and we don’t want any more attention.”

Shouto closed his eyes, focusing on the sound of the voice over Endeavor’s booming words. Half of him felt fuzzy, out of focus. The voice, he knew it had to be his brother’s, but for some reason it wasn’t connecting. He felt alone, isolated. But he wasn’t. He had been, before, but not now. Not now that his brother was here with him.

Shouto breathed out and let the ice melt off his sleeve. Opening his eyes, he caught the cashier staring at the two of them from the corner of the room. For a brief, horrifying second, Shouto was paralysed. The cashier was looking at them, she would see his scar, she would know. She would know and she would see him, and send him back, back there back to that awful house where he couldn’t breathe couldn’t live -

Something pulled at his sleeve and Shouto let himself be tugged along. His feet moved without his consent. The vivid colours of the shop now screamed at him, all too bright, demanding his attention all at once. 

The neon haze shifted to greys and greens, and then finally dark purple and luminous blue.

Shouto blinked and the world refocused, Touya perched kneeling down in front of him. Shouto’s hands curled around his knees, pressed tightly to his chest. Their shopping bags sat next to him. 

“You back now, Shoutouto?” Touya asked, words thick with the weight of what could only be concern.

This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, but this was the first time he’d been treated with care afterwards. His father was more inclined to slap him out of his state, and his siblings never had a chance to notice.

He didn’t deserve this concern, this niceness. Him being here was only going to get Touya brought back with Shouto, both of them brought back to that cage of a home. He shouldn’t have run, he shouldn’t have left now it was public everyone knew how weak Endeavor was and Shouto was going to pay for that in bruises many times over - 

“Breathe, Shoutouto, breathe.” Touya’s words felt like an anchor amongst Shouto’s whirling mess of a mind. He grasped onto them, following the order gladly.

His sense of his body slowly returned to him, the world refocusing. His breaths became more controlled until he was no longer shaking. He looked at his right hand, covered in the icy specks of frost. He pressed his hands together and steam drifted into the air.

Touya was staring at him. His eyes were wide, hand held slightly over Shouto’s knee as if he wasn’t entirely sure it was safe to touch.

“...that happens sometimes,” Shouto rasped, his voice croaky. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t worry about it? Are you kidding me?” Touya asked scathingly. “God, Shoutouto, you were having a fu- a fricking panic attack. Of course I’m going to worry!”

Shouto looked away down the road to where cars were passing by. It was easier to focus on those than the words of his brother. 

“I’m sorry, Touya-nii. I was a liability and almost got us caught,” Shouto said quietly. 

Touya inhaled sharply. Shouto kept staring sideways, not wanting to see the look on his face. He didn’t need to look to see the disappointment. 

“Shouto, that’s not…” Touya trailed off. His voice was laced with something Shouto didn’t understand. He didn’t understand why Touya was being so careful with him. Shouto had messed up and Shouto knew what happened when he did that. He got yelling, harsh words, and painful hands. His brother had never been the one to do that, but he’d never failed his brother before. 

“It’s not your fault, okay? Look, we’re here and we’re fine, no one’s coming after us. Do you hear any sirens? Shouto, check, do you?”

He did. They weren’t that far away from the main street, if there was a commotion, he would notice. And yet there was nothing.

There was a slight rapping against the hard, plastic material of the mask. Shouto twisted back to see Touya smirking, hand pulling back from where it had been beside his face.

“C’mon, take that off, it can’t be helping you breathe.”

“But someone will see - ”

“I won’t let them,” Touya said steadily. The sincerity in his eyes burned through Shouto. When Touya said that, he meant it. He wasn’t lying. He knew he could protect Shouto, and Shouto did too.

Shouto reached up and pulled the mask down. No longer seeing the world through the mesh lenses, he blinked. The air felt fresher, cold and sweet and tangy. He hadn’t realised it but moisture had collected on the undersurface and against his skin. The light breeze felt soothing after wearing the mask for so long.

“It’s my job to keep you safe, remember? Not yours. Seeing Endeavor’s fat face makes me want to scream sometimes, but I’ve learnt how to hold it in.”

“How?” Shouto whispered.

Touya grinned, the skin pulling at the staples along the edges of his scars. “I’ve got a plan, Shoutouto. A plan that will make all of this worth it.”

“What is it?” Shouto asked eagerly. Whatever it was, he wanted in. His father had been on screen, all eyes on him, and still nobody had questioned him. Nobody saw the real Endeavor except for his family.

“Don’t worry about it. That’s my job, got it? Not yours.”

Disappointment sunk like a rock to the depths of Shouto’s stomach. He shouldn’t be disappointed. Even if Shouto couldn’t directly help his brother with his plan, whatever Touya chose to do would still benefit both of them. Touya wouldn’t do something to spite Shouto. Shouto knew that.

“Yeah, I get it,” Shouto said dully. Apparently his persistent monotone was enough to hide when he was actually quite dissatisfied.

But even if Touya thought he could hide it from him, Shouto would find out. And he would help, one way or another. 

Chapter Text

Fuyumi sat on the couch, Natsuo curled up next to her. His face pressed into her shirt, her arms coming up over to protect him.

Enji was mad. Not at them, not this time, but whenever he was mad, it was like the entire world burned around him.

This time was even worse with no Rei to protect them, no Shouto to take the brunt of his attention.

Fuyumi had never felt so seen by him before, and she never had understood how much it would hurt to have his gaze land on her for more than a second.

He was on the phone right now, police forces mobilising all across Japan to find Shouto. To take him back from the ‘villains’.

Fuyumi knew that there were no villains. She’d seen the missing hole where a go bag had once been, seen the gaps left behind where she knew he’d been storing food. She hadn’t said anything to her littlest brother about it, barely getting enough time around Shouto to ask him. And she hadn’t wanted to go to Enji about it. Down that road only lay pain for Shouto.

Still, she didn’t understand why Dad couldn’t see what was so clear for the rest of them.

He finally got off the phone, slamming it down with a bang. Natsuo flinched in her grip, and she tightened her arms around her even more.

“Dad, stop,” she said timidly, “Please, you’re scaring Natsuo.”

Endeavor ran a hand through his hair. “They have to find him. A child with that power potential, he would be a mighty tool in the hands of any villain - ”

“Oh, come on! We all know villains didn’t take him!” Fuyumi blurted, and then slammed a hand over her mouth. She hadn’t meant to say that. She hadn’t.

Enji’s gaze zeroed in on her. “Fuyumi,” he rumbled. “Do you know something about what happened?”

“I- ” Fuyumi stammered, “I - I don’t know for sure, but… villains didn’t take him. He left.”

“He wouldn’t,” Endeavor snarled at her. “He wouldn’t dare.”

“Yes, he would,” Fuyumi said, willing herself to be strong. Her arms were shaking and she wanted to duck her head down and hide, but she needed to do this. Enji had to understand. “He left because of you.”

Enji’s brow twitched, flames pouring from his face. Fuyumi felt sweat pool on her forehead.

“You speak with impudence, girl,” Enji said, warning in his tone. “I am only doing what is best for him - ”

“You’re doing what’s best for you!” Fuyumi yelled, suddenly much more confident. “You’re ruining this family because of your stupid goal that doesn’t even matter!”

The world stilled and Fuyumi froze. Enji’s face burned red hot. His hand shot out and connected with her cheek. Her face swung to the side, pain radiating out. 

He’d hit her. He’d hit her.

“Fuyumi!” Enji yelled. “Bed, now.”

Fuyumi swallowed and nodded, hand pressed to her aching face. She nudged a wide-eyed Natsuo up and off her, and together they hurried up the stairs. She entered her room, Natsuo scurrying in behind her. 

Quickly, she locked the door and curled up on the bed. She pressed her face to her palms. Tears dripped from her eyes and sunk into her skin.

She felt a soft touch reach her knee.

“Yumi, it’s going to be okay, right? They’re going to find Shouto? Aren’t they?”

Fuyumi raised her head to see the wide eyes of Natsuo. He was still so young, only eleven. Her last sibling left.

“If they don’t, I will. I promise you, I will find him,” Fuyumi whispered.

Natsuo nodded carefully, patting her knee. “I know you will, Yumi-nee. Dad won’t, because he sucks. And Shouto wouldn’t want him to find him, would he? But he won’t mind if it’s you.

“Do you think Shouto would want to come back? This house is cursed. I wouldn’t want to come back.”

“No!” Fuyumi blurted. “He - he has to. He will come back, and we can be a family again. Natsu, he - he will.”

Natsuo stared up at her, grey eyes big and round. 

Fuyumi cradled his cheek in her hand. 

“He will come back, do you hear me? We’re not losing any more of our family,” She whispered viciously. “Not like mum or Touya. Shouto can still come back to us.”

Natsuo pressed his face into her hand. “I miss them, Yumi.”

Fuyumi felt something inside her break. Something under pressure for far too long, snapping in half.

“I know,” she murmured numbly. “So do I.”

Shouto was watching Touya carefully. He looked worried, digging under the spare mattress. His hand came back with one spare note, only 1000 yen.

“Fu- frick,” Touya cursed, crumpling up the note in one hand.

That couldn’t mean anything good. Shouto wandered carefully over to Touya and tapped his arm.

“You need help?” Shouto asked.

Touya’s harried gaze swung to him. “No, don’t worry about it. I can deal with this myself, okay?” 

He ran a hand through Shouto’s now-pink hair, smiling nervously. It didn’t do anything to dissuade Shouto’s worries.

“I’m going to need to go out, Shoutouto, but you stay here, alright?” Touya asked, burning blue gaze locking with Shouto’s mismatched one.

Shouto nodded, very carefully.

“Good, good,” Touya muttered, mostly to himself. “We’ve got water, and you know how to get it, don’t you?”

Shouto rolled his eyes. He was seven, not three. “Touya. I’ll be fine.”

Touya breathed out slowly. “Yeah. You will be. Food might be later. We’re uh - well. It’s going to be later. You alright with that?”

“Yeah.” It would be fine. Endeavor had sometimes punished him for not using his fire by refusing him dinner. He didn’t like it, never liked that cold ache in his stomach, but it wasn’t something he couldn’t handle.

“Of course you will, you little trooper,” Touya murmured. 

Touya stood up, stretching his arms above his head. “I’ll be back in a few hours, alright? Don’t burn the house down while I’m gone.”

Shouto frowned at him. Touya knew he didn’t use his fire, how could he burn it down? He was much more likely to ice it over and get water everywhere. His brother was weird sometimes.

Touya left, and Shouto stood there, waiting a few minutes. He already suspected his brother didn’t exactly do what was considered the most legal activities. Well, living in an abandoned building as a runaway wasn’t the most legal either. So how much worse would it really be to branch out even further into the other sides of things?

Five more minutes passed and Shouto crept outside, mask in place. Touya was already gone.

Shouto had a plan. Touya needed money, both to feed himself and to feed Shouto. If Shouto got them money, he would be helping his brother. His father had warned him of some of the criminal deeds villains would commit, the things they would do to make lives for themselves in the dark underbelly of society.

Pickpocketing was one of them. So that was the first thing Shouto decided to try.

He wandered over to the side of a busy street, creeping behind dumpsters. How likely would it be that someone would catch him? Endeavor had trained him to be a great hero, the best of the best. Taking some things from people’s pockets couldn’t be that hard in comparison.

Shouto took a deep breath behind the mask and slipped into the crowd. With his small height, it was surprisingly easy to sneak things out of people’s pockets. Yen notes, phones, wallets. He even managed to sneak a plastic-wrapped pastry out of someone’s shopping bag which he carefully stored in his hoodie pocket for later.

Barely anyone seemed to notice him at all, and, if they did, it was easy enough to duck behind a wall or a bush or someone else’s bag until their attention passed. 

This was kind of fun, actually, sneaking around and taking things like they were prizes. Much more fun than training with Endeavor. And that was supposed to be what was good? Getting slammed to the floor, getting flames shot at him until he felt like he was going to melt?

From what Shouto had seen, villainy seemed so much more fun already. He hadn’t gotten hurt and yet he had gotten free food and a fair amount of money out of it.

And it wasn’t like these people needed it. Their fridge back home had always been filled up so easily, Endeavor never seeming to worry about the cost. For people who weren’t runaways, it must be so easy to get replacements. Shouto and Touya needed it more, practically deserved it for all they had suffered through.

The crowds were beginning to disperse, people moving away from the mid lunch rush hour. Still, Shouto was hungry for more. There was one target he was eyeing, one with a fancy gold watch on his wrist. Surely there would be more goodies inside his pockets.

Shouto slipped past, reaching out. His fingers slid past silken fabric, feeling the firm texture of a leather wallet.

Yes.

A hand clamped around his right wrist. Shouto froze in place. He’d been caught. Too slow.

The man twisted him around to see his face, prying his skinny fingers away from his wallet. Shouto stared up at him through the mask, the man looking down at him with concerned eyes.

“Little too young to be a criminal, aren’t we?” He said, in a condescending tone. “You should know it’s never good to steal. Now, best get you to your parents - ”

Parents. Endeavor. Home.

Shouto couldn’t - wouldn’t - let himself go back. Never. 

Ice spread out from his hand, a barrier hardening around his hand. The man gasped as the chill spread to his own skin, but it was enough, enough room for Shouto to free himself.

Shouto yanked his wrist away and ran. He had to go, had to run. His heart beat faster, pounded against his chest. He skidded around a corner, ducked behind a fire escape, and curled up in the dark corner of an alley. He’d nearly been caught. So close. Only his ice had allowed him to get out.

Still, he had all of his other items. A shame about that last wallet, but everything else looked good, still tucked away in his pockets. 

He melted the fragments of ice from his hand, watched them puddle on the floor.

His breath still hurt his chest, fighting out of his lungs. 

Shouto practiced what his brother had taught him after that first time. Breathing in and out on schedule. Feeling the way the air passed his lips. He felt his pulse ebb and flow, pounding like mad in his ears.

After he finally stopped trembling, Shouto managed to get up. His legs swayed underneath him, and his stomach gurgled loudly. He was hungry. No wonder, he’d been active nearly all day. As Endeavor would say, hard work made strong bodies. Shouto always corrected it in his head to weak bodies. That was how it always felt for him. Trained so hard he would vomit.

But this was different. 

This was something for Touya. For someone he wanted to help.

That made it all worth it.

Shouto pulled the pastry out of his pocket. It was a bit squished now, but it still smelled heavenly. Shouto tore bits off the end and stuffed it in his mouth.

The soft bread melted in his mouth and he drooled. It was so good. But he couldn’t eat it all, he needed to save some for Touya.

He carefully rewrapped it and headed back home. Touya was going to be so proud of him.

Touya was back. Finally! It had felt like he’d been gone for years. This house was so boring without his brother in it.

“Touya-nii!” Shouto piped up. “Look what I got!”

Shouto spilled out his earnings onto the table. Touya watched them, stunned. The yen notes fluttered over the table, mixed in amongst fancy watches and thick wallets.

“How - how did you get all this?” Touya said weakly. He picked up a watch and ran a finger over the etching laid in the side. A name scrawled into the side of the metal.

“People’s pockets,” Shouto said confidently.

“Right,” Touya said hoarsely. “People’s pockets - from outside. You left the house.”

“Yes! And look what I got.”

Touya scrubbed a hand down his face and sighed. 

Shouto didn’t understand why his brother didn’t look happy. He should look happy about this. Why didn’t he?

“The reason I told you to stay in was to stay safe,” Touya said, stern eyes locking with Shouto’s. “You could have been seen, you could have gotten hurt - ”

“But I didn’t,” Shouto insisted. “Even when a man grabbed me, I got away from him.”

“Wha - a man grabbed you? What’d you do?” Touya exclaimed.

“I iced him!” Shouto said proudly. He held his hand out and covered it with ice. “Like that. And he just - voosh - let go.”

Touya looked faint. “You used your ice? And he saw? ”

“Why are you being so sad? I helped,” Shouto argued. He’d done good. He’d done something Touya should have wanted him to.

Touya stooped down, placing his hands on Shouto’s shoulders. “You did. You did great, okay? But that was dangerous. That man might go back to the police and tell them what he saw, and then they’ll know where you are. Do you understand? It’s putting you at risk.”

Shouto ducked his head mulishly. He hadn’t wanted to be such a pain, such a bother to his brother. 

“But I was strong, I could deal with it,” Shouto muttered under his breath.

“But you shouldn’t have to be,” Touya argued. “You’re seven, you don’t have to be strong. I’m the elder, I need to be strong for you. Hey. Is that something Endeavor said to you?”

Shouto nodded. Be strong, like the hero he was meant to be. Be big and strong with his powerful quirk. Step into his birthright, claim the throne the Todoroki family deserved, the throne of Number One.

Touya twisted Shouto’s head away from the floor. The blue in his eyes looked desperate, pleading for Shouto to understand.

“He’s wrong,” Touya said with a tone that offered no room for argument. “You can be strong, if you want to. But you don’t have to. You don’t have to be strong for me. That’s only what Endeavor wanted for you. And I don’t. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Shouto mumbled.

“No, I want you to repeat what you just heard. Shouto. Tell me. Do you need to be strong?”

“Yes?” Shouto said uncertainly.

“No!” Touya said, and then bit his lip. He breathed in, hands tensing around Shouto’s shoulders. “You don’t have to be strong. Repeat that. You don’t have to be strong for me.”

“I don’t have to be strong,” Shouto said slowly. But that didn’t make sense. Shouto was made for that, to be strong, to be powerful. 

But Touya was saying he didn’t have to be like that. 

And Shouto trusted Touya. But being strong was what he’d been born for. It was a part of him, like how Endeavor would always be printed across his left half.

But wasn’t that the same for Touya, too? And they’d both done their very best to cover that part of themselves, hidden behind the shield of hair dye and disguising their faces. Whether voluntary or involuntary, they’d still done it. Cut themselves away from Endeavor and his legacy. 

“I don’t have to be strong,” Shouto repeated with vigour.

Touya’s hands untensed and his worried frown tilted into a smile. He pressed his head against Shouto, pulling him into a hug. His hand combed through Shouto’s hair and Shouto nuzzled his head in closer. His brother was always so warm, and now was no exception.

Shouto’s stomach rumbled. “Can we have food now?” Shouto asked, words muffled by Touya’s shirt.

Touya laughed and released him, heading back to the table. “Yeah, sure. You should see what I got today.”

Touya pulled out a yen pile, and flicked it, his finger flipping through the notes. It made a very satisfying fwip sound. Shouto’s eyes widened as he watched the notes shiver back and forth.

“Look. While what you did was dangerous, and I’m not saying you should keep doing it - with your findings we can eat pretty tonight,” Touya said with a grin.

“So I did help?” Shouto asked.

Touya reached out and ruffled his hair. “Yeah, you did, Shoutouto.”

“So I should do it again?” Shouto asked, widening his eyes even more. “I was good at it, and you know we need the money.”

Touya sighed, a grating rattle as air passed over the staples embedded in his lip. Touya peered down at him.

“The instant I leave, you’re just going to do this again, aren’t you?”

Shouto stared at him. Of course he was, but he wasn’t just going to say that.

Touya ran a hand through his hair. “If I let you do this, do you promise to tell me where you will go and when? I need you to stay safe, alright?”

Shouto nodded furiously. “Of course, Touya-nii!”

“But remember,” Touya rapped him on the head with his knuckles. “I don’t need you to do this, it is not your obligation to support me. Got that? You seem to enjoy it and I don’t wanna stop you, but if you feel you need to do this, I will stop you, alright?”

“Yeah, okay,” Shouto mumbled. “But I can keep doing it?”

“Yes,” Touya said begrudgingly. “You can.”

Shouto ran forward and hugged Touya’s waist. “You’re the greatest big brother ever,” he whispered into Touya’s side.

It was so nice, being able to hug his brother freely like this. Since mum had gone, Shouto had been alone. Not even his siblings were allowed in his presence. Endeavor hadn’t liked Shouto trying to hug him, saying it was a sign of weakness. But here, Touya was always ready for him, always open for affection. 

Touya’s arms crept round him, fingers combing through the back of his hair. 

“Your bar is way too low,” Touya muttered.

Shouto chose to ignore that. Compared to home, Touya was heaven sent. Yes, their house itself may be cold and they might only get hot water one tenth of the time, but it was freeing. Touya was great, even if he couldn’t see that. 

He lifted his head, looking at the pile of notes resting on the counter.

“Where’d you get yours?” Shouto asked. Touya stiffened, fingers tightening in his hair at the base of his head.

“Ow!” Shouto complained and Touya let go immediately.

“Shi - sorry,” Touya said, stumbling over his words. “It’s - well, okay, it’s not technically legal, Shoutouto.”

Shouto blinked up at him. “You mean like me taking things?”

Touya’s mouth slanted down, staples wobbling uneasily. “Sort of. You know villains. Some of them form groups, and they hire people to do things for them. Just small things, like guard a room and look scary, but someone needs to do it. That’s what I do.”

Shouto frowned. “You work with villains?”

He knew what his brother did was shifty, but working with villains? According to Endeavor, villains were scum. The worst of the earth. Rot in human form. And his brother was working with them?

Yeah, he’d killed those two people, but that was to help Shouto. A necessary evil.

Why would his brother work with villains? 

Touya sighed, sitting down and lifting Shouto onto his lap. Shouto curled up protectively around his brother’s arm.

“I know, I know, Endeavor says all villains are awful and they should die?” The edge of Touya’s lip curled up humourlessly. “He’s a fu - frickwad, Shouto. His opinions suck. He sat on top of the world and chose to hurt you. Villains - they’re all just people doing what they can to survive.”

Touya stared him dead in the eye. “Like us. You know, to the rest of society, we would count as villains.”

Shouto reared backwards. “No!”

He might have stolen but that didn’t make him a villain. He wasn’t like that. It was different.

“We’re squatting on private property and we survive through theft, among other things,” Touya said plainly. “And we use our quirks to defend ourselves without a license. Legally, we’re villains.”

That - that was true. He’d used his ice to attack someone today. That was villainous. But it wasn’t like that. Wasn’t like he’d wanted to kill them or anything. He’d just wanted to get away.

“Villains are just people that don’t fit in. People who fit outside the boundaries of hero society. Hero society would have wanted you to stay. Stay with Endeavor, be the perfect little doll he always wanted.”

Shouto looked downward. He didn’t want that, didn’t want that life. That was only pain. And that was what heroes would have wanted for him? Shouto clutched at Touya’s shirt.

There had been a reason Shouto had run rather than asking for help. He’d known no one would have believed him against Endeavor. His father was too strong, too great, too well known. No one but Shouto would have been able to get himself out. But he’d always thought they would have at least wanted to. 

If Shouto had gone to a hero, told him his story… they would have just handed him back. Made him stay. Told him off for lying.

Heroes versus villains. His father’s old story. The harsh lines. Shouto didn’t want the world of heroes.

But maybe… with Touya… villainy wasn’t so bad. He could understand it more now. He shouldn’t have believed Endeavor’s words so strongly. Endeavor was a bully himself and he was the Number Two. Every other hero must be like him, if he was at the top.

“I’m a villain too?” Shouto whispered.

“You are,” Touya murmured back. “So am I. And Endeavor isn’t. Do you see the pattern?”

Shouto nodded furiously, cheek rubbing against Touya’s shirt. It was so clear now. Touya was so clever, so much more than Shouto.

Shouto had chosen to run, chosen to leave his old life. He should have realised that meant leaving everything. Heroes were a pipe dream, a fake reality. Endeavor was the truth of them. An ugly truth.

And Shouto didn’t want it.

He wanted to stay here right next to Touya. He wanted to live with Touya, live freely with him.

If that was considered “villainous”, well. Too bad. It was the road Shouto was going to take and he didn’t care. He trusted his brother and he wasn’t going to leave his side because of society’s flawed opinions. 

Endeavor would be so mad. The thought of that brought a smile to Shouto’s face. 

Chapter Text

Fuyumi knocked deftly on the wood, a two-time hit that resounded against the surface. The bartender looked up, getting a slight glimpse of her mask-covered face, and lifted up the gate, letting her through. Even with her face covered, people are beginning to recognise her. Down here, Fuyumi isn’t entirely sure that’s a good thing.

She slid over a yen note as she passed through. It was gone in an instant, the quicksilver flash of the man’s hands too fast to process. It was an established ritual, one Fuyumi had to learn through whispers of secrets. But she was in, into the hidden sector of the darker side of Japan. 

After so many years, she has reached a point where she might finally have progress in finding Shouto.

Rumours of a young teenager with an ice quirk have led her here, and supposedly she will get to meet him tonight. She never bothered to ask about fire. She knew her little brother too well for that. He would only ever have used his ice and asking for both would have been too much of a risk. After all, Fuyumi’s little mission isn’t exactly on the legal side of things. If it were, the police would be doing this instead.

But the heroes couldn’t find him, the police tried their best but failed, and now, it’s all up to Fuyumi.

She turned the corner, travelling down the winding corridors that make up the back area of the bar. Finally, she came to her destination, the room the bartender directed her towards. She paused, hand on the door handle.

Inside could be her little brother. After all this time, finally she could be face to face with him again. She could bring him back home and they could all be a family together again. Her hand shook. She couldn’t believe it. She was so close now. Only behind that door could be her brother.

Fuyumi pressed down and the door swung open. She walked inside and immediately halted.

Lazing on the sofa was someone wearing a huge coat, like her. Their face was shadowed like hers, a thick puffy light blue coat perfect for Ice Quirk users. Everything about them was so close to Shouto, too close for Fuyumi’s heart to take… and yet, Fuyumi knew in her heart it wasn’t to be true.

The height was all wrong. The way they lounged on the sofa was all wrong.

That wasn’t her brother.

Fuyumi stormed forward, flicking their hood backwards. Soft white hair, angular face. No scar. Not Shouto.

The person snarled at her and yanked their hood back over their face.

“What the hell was that for, lady?” they grunted from the confines of their hood.

Fuyumi sank down on the seat next to him and pressed her hands to her face. It wasn’t Shouto. She’d have to go back out there and ask again . Go looking out for him again .

Years of work and he was still lost to her.

“Hey. What are you doing?” The teen said, less sharply than before. 

“I was looking for someone and you’re not him,” Fuyumi murmured into her hands. “That’s all.”

“So you’re not looking to join the MLA? What a waste of my time,” he grunted.

Fuyumi sighed, raising her head to look back at him. It wasn’t his fault he’s the wrong person, not his fault he got dragged in here under false pretences. The least thing she could do was hear him out.

“Go on then,” she said, leaning back against the sofa, exhausted. All the adrenaline from thinking she was so close to her brother washed away, leaving her adrift. She might as well take these few minutes to rest here before going back out and starting her chase again.

And then the guy started talking.

What comes out of his mouth are the most idiotic thoughts and philosophies Fuyumi has ever heard. The idea of quirk strength coming before everything else, the idea of a world solely based on who’s strong enough, it all sounds like words she’s heard before.

Her father’s logic, encapsulated within a teenager.

“I’m sorry,” Fuyumi said, sitting back up. “And you believe all of this?”

“It’s the superior world system! The current one isn’t helping, people forced to hide themselves, to repress themselves, and for what? It’s stupid! Let people be free.”

“Okay, but where are the places for the quirkless in your worldview? Anyone without strong quirks? What are you going to do about them?”

The teen shrugged. “If they aren’t strong enough, they aren’t worth a place anyway.”

Fuyumi wanted to scream. The complete lack of logic… it was doing her head in. But he was young . So young and believing this… for lack of a better word, complete bullshit? He almost reminded Fuyumi of Natsuo. The anger in his words, the vehemence, how strongly believed he was right. She had seen all that echoed in Natsuo when he got mad at their father. Which, unfortunately, happened a lot . And Fuyumi always tried to temper him, tried to make him see that what they need now, more than ever, is to band together, not to split apart. She’d never been good at leaving things alone. 

And this guy resonated with those feelings. Almost too much.

It didn’t help that he has an ice quirk too. He was practically one of their family already. 

She thinks they spent maybe two hours arguing before the barman shooed them out of the room for the next set of customers. 

Fuyumi shoved her number into his hand.

“I am not finished with this!” Fuyumi whisper-yelled furiously. “We will finish this conversation later.”

“Obviously,” the boy - Geten, Fuyumi had now learnt what his name was - sneered. “You need to learn the truth of the world. Strength is all that matters.”

Fuyumi bit her lip. Hard. She really had to go, with work tomorrow she shouldn’t be staying out this late. And yet she didn’t want to leave, not with Geten being so obviously wrong.

“Friday,” Fuyumi said, jabbing at his chest. “Same time.”

“You just wait. You’ll be signing up to the MLA in no time at all.”

“And you’ll be giving up those ideals in no time at all!”

“Hah! You wish! See you on Friday.”

“See you on Friday.”

With one last very aggressive goodbye, Fuyumi turned on her heel and left. Well, that definitely didn’t go how she intended.

But at least it’s one more lead to check off the list.

Fuyumi reached the Todoroki mansion, slipping her mask into her bag and pulling off her coat. She jabbed in the passcode, the secure gate of the household slipping open. 

It’s quiet, everyone evidently asleep. As they should be. They don’t know anything of her midnight searches and that’s how she’s keeping it. They can know when she comes back with Shouto in tow. Otherwise, someone might try and stop her and she refused to let that happen.

Fuyumi chucked her stuff into the secure panel at the base of her wardrobe, a custom modification Fuyumi herself had added, and walked over to the bathroom.

She passed by Natsuo’s door and a faint thump echoed from within. Fuyumi stopped, considering what kinds of things a teenage boy could possibly be doing that would make that kind of noise at midnight, and then slowly slid the door open. 

Natsuo sat on the bed, hair dishevelled and the window wide open, eyes huge and staring right at Fuyumi.

“Are you okay?” Fuyumi asked, hand on the doorknob.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Natsuo said quickly. Far more quickly than normal. Fuyumi’s eyes drifted over to the open window. Was that - was that dirt on the windowsill?

Before she could take a closer look, Natsuo had closed the window shut and the dark patch was brushed away.

“It’s late, shouldn’t you be sleeping?” Natsuo asked.

Fuyumi’s eyes flicked to his alarm clock. Wow. She didn’t realise it was that late already.

“Same for you,” Fuyumi replied back, leaning casually against the door frame. “Don’t you have school in the morning?”

Natsuo rolled his eyes, settling back on his bed. “And you have work.”

“Which is why we both should be sleeping,” Fuyumi replied softly. 

“Then get out of my room already. Goodnight, Yumi,” Natsuo said through a yawn.

“Night!” Fuyumi called, closing the door behind her. Natsuo seemed fine, which was good, even if he was spending way more time in his room lately. Mostly to avoid their father. Ever since the night Shouto disappeared, their father had been… off. He pushed more of himself into hero work than ever before. Fuyumi thought he felt guilty, but Natsuo told her it’s because he’s an idiot who thinks taking down more villains will somehow get Shouto back. Neither of them know for sure, though, since he wouldn’t ever actually talk to them. He hadn’t slapped her again though, not since that first night. She can’t say the same for Natsuo, but then if he only stopped provoking him so much, Father wouldn’t get so mad at him. She knew Natsuo did it on purpose because he’d told her as much. No matter how often she told him to stop… he never did. 

It’s… hard, keeping them together. Most days she felt more like a mother than a sister, and the weight feels crushing. At least when she’s out there, stalking the bars of the night, no one knew who she was. A mystery, an enigma. She liked that. 

Fuyumi got changed, throwing herself into bed.

Tomorrow, she thought to herself. Tomorrow she’ll go back out there and try again. Shouto had to be out there somewhere. 

She only hoped wherever he was, he’s doing alright.

Touya’s out somewhere, on an errand most likely, so Shouto decided to go for a walk. He took the mask, obviously. It’d been years since he ran away but his face was too recognisable. He’d grown used to breathing through the musty air of a mask. It almost feels wrong to not be wearing it, now.

Over the few years they’ve been together, they’ve fallen into a pattern. Touya did the big work, any jobs which required a scary face and a brash attitude. Shouto did the small things, pickpocketing and any work he managed to bug Touya into allowing him to do. Pretty much anything that didn’t require him to unmask, to use his quirk, or to speak to too many people. So, not a lot. 

Even now, Touya was still so protective, scared that some hero was going to come out of nowhere and take him away. Shouto privately thought if it were going to happen, it would have in the first year. But Touya is so often right, he had to listen. Touya had done this far longer than Shouto had and hadn’t gotten caught, after all.

Even with all of Touya’s paranoid instructions, Shouto would still go outside for walks. He’s always careful, never talking to any adults that he thinks would blab about him, never doing anything to attract the eye of any nearby hero. And if someone does look at him and think he’s an easy target, well. Shouto’s still as strong with his ice quirk as always.

This time, there was no one around but a kid his age with curly green hair. He wouldn’t risk going anywhere too populated, but one kid is okay. Shouto’s learnt how to run by now, anyway.

The boy passed under a tunnel and Shouto followed a few metres behind. He didn’t expect the scene he stepped into.

A huge green thing filled the tunnel walls, wet and slimy and disgusting. Its tendrils had wrapped around the boy’s body, trapping him in place as he struggled. The boy looked at Shouto, his green eyes wide with fear. In those eyes, Shouto could see one thing and one thing only: a plea for help.

Shouto slammed his foot forwards and ice spiraled across the floor, frosting over the slime. He couldn’t risk freezing it completely, else the boy would be frozen with it. He had to do this in stages. It was a risk to use his quirk so openly but he couldn’t let the boy die in front of him. He could clear up any evidence afterwards, anyway.

The slime oozed around his frost, snapping it to pieces. An eye locked onto to Shouto, blinking amidst the green. A tendril shot forward and Shouto reached out, grabbing it. Instead of sending ice across the surface, he sent it through the liquid itself. Right to the heart of the slime monster.

The tendril snapped off and the creature shrieked, curling itself inwards where Shouto’s ice must be hurting it most. It unwound from around the boy, who collapsed to the floor. Shouto slammed his foot against the floor again and an iceberg trapped the creature against the wall.

The boy pushed himself backwards, crawling on hands and knees. He gasped like he would never take a deep breath again. That slime must have been suffocating him. Shouto walked over to the boy, needing to make sure he’s alright.

The boy gazed up at him, staring in complete awe. Shouto wanted to run away from the direct attention, especially coming from a stranger, but his desire to make sure this boy was safe overrode it. It had been stupid to come out here and do this, but the mistake had already been made. No hiding now.

“Thank you!” the boy stuttered out between gasps of breath.

Shouto didn’t know how to respond, so he only nodded his head. He did what he had to, what anyone with his power should have done in this situation. It wasn’t anything he deserved to be thanked for.

“Are you going to be okay?” Shouto asked. The boy nodded, picking himself up off the floor. He nearly tripped and grabbed onto Shouto in order to stay upright. 

Shouto froze. The boy was surprisingly warm and Shouto could feel his grip even through his shirt.

The boy let go and stepped backwards, cheeks glowing red. “O-oh, sorry about that! I didn’t mean to, but you probably knew that! Since I tripped, and that’s not normally intentional…”

The boy groaned. He took a deep breath and the flush slowly washed away from his cheeks. He stuck out his hand. “Hi, I’m Izuku Midoriya. Thank you for saving me…?”

This was the point where Shouto was expected to give his name. He knew that would be likely to come up and he should have been prepared for it.

And yet he still couldn’t help but feel guilty when he gave out his name. His other name.

“Toushou,” he said and the boy nodded again.

“Nice name,” he commented. “Your quirk was awesome, by the way. You could be a great hero with that quirk!”

A great hero. Just like his dad always wanted.

Shouto forced his hands to unclench and swallowed the bile down his throat.

“Sure,” was all he could say, forced through a mouth that barely wanted to speak at all.

“Is that not…?” Midoriya began to ask, but before he could finish, there was a great whooshing of air.

Suddenly All Might stood in front of them, hands poised on his hips in the same stance he was so famous for.

Faced with the hero that Endeavor has always compared Shouto to, Shouto did the smart thing. He panicked and hid behind Midoriya. The boy choked down a gasp as Shouto’s cold hands pressed against his back.

“All Might!” Midoriya stammered.

“Yes, it is I, and you are safe now, for I am here!” All Might bellowed. Shouto winced and closed his eyes tightly shut.

There was a pause, presumably where All Might was looking at the frozen state of the sludge man. Sludge villain, it must be, if All Might was tracking him down.

“…Did you do this, boy?” All Might asked. His voice was an odd mix of both confused and appraising.

“No!” Midoriya yelped. “It was - ”

Midoriya stopped. Shouto held his breath. 

“It was someone else. Another hero. They’re gone now, you just missed them,” Midoriya said, half stumbling over his words.

There was another pause.

“I see,” All Might sounded vaguely uncomfortable. “If you were in any trouble, you would say, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course! I’m perfectly, one-hundred-percent okay!”

“Well, alright,” All Might said. There was another great whooshing sound and Shouto stayed where he was until he felt Midoriya tapping on his arm.

“He’s gone,” Midoriya said and Shouto ducked out from behind his back. The two stared at each other, masked eyes to visible green ones.

“Um, why did you do that?” Midoriya asked.

“All Might… he makes me uncomfortable.”

Midoriya’s eyebrows crinkled. “Uncomfortable? Why? He’s All Might.”

“It’s just… private,” Shouto said awkwardly. In all honesty, he didn’t know his full feelings for All Might. This was the man who Shouto had been held up to, constantly compared. The figure that had been the cause for all of his pain. But All Might didn’t know. It wasn’t his fault for his father’s actions. 

But Shouto couldn’t help but hear that constant phrase, that constant parroting of the words. “You are safe, because I am here.” All Might had never given him safety. Just by existing, just by being something for Endeavor to hold himself up against, Shouto had been hurt and mistreated, over and over and over.

All Might could never hold the same hope for Shouto as he did for everyone else. Even seeing the man in person made Shouto want to shrivel up, to hide himself. He felt too exposed. It wasn’t as if All Might would know who he was, but he felt like the very fact he was born a Todoroki emanated off him in waves.

“Okay,” Midoriya said quietly. “I’m sorry if I’m intruding on something.”

“It’s fine,” Shouto said. “But I don’t want to talk about it.”

Midoriya nodded quickly, eyes filled with private understanding. And then suddenly, his eyes shot open, wide with worry.

“I didn’t get an autograph,” Midoriya moaned, burying his face in his hands. “I just met All Might and I didn’t get an autograph. How is this possible?”

Shouto caught sight of a small beige notebook half covered in burns. It’s open, the sight of thick blocky words visible on the page. The name is obvious, even with the burn marks. Shouto scooped it up and pressed it into Midoriya’s chest.

“...when did he have time to do that?” Midoriya gasped. He carefully placed his notebook back in his bag, gingerly pressing the pages together so as not to get any crumpled.

Shouto began to back away. This was done now and he’d already been seen more than he’d intended.

“Wait!” Midoriya gasped, launching forward and grabbing his elbow. Midoriya blushed furiously but didn’t let go. “Um, so I don’t really have many friends, but I  - if you wanted - maybe we could hang out sometimes? Do something? You - you helped me, and that was very nice of you. I get the feeling you don’t really have anyone either. Do you?”

Shouto slowly shook my head. “I have my brother,” he said. That was enough for Shouto, really. Talking with a lot of the street kids was always hard, Shouto never quite managing to fit in. He was always wrong in some way, a puzzle piece that wouldn’t slot in. It was easier with his brother, who didn’t mind his monotone ways and just seemed to understand him anyway.

Midoriya’s grip tightened. “Then you can hang out with me! Do you - um - do you have a phone?”

“I can get one,” Shouto answered, already thinking of the cheapest way to obtain a brick phone. He hadn’t needed one before, their routine making the expense unnecessary, but if someone else wanted to talk to him, it would be useful. And Midoriya seemed nice. Willing to tolerate Shouto, at least, which was enough for Shouto to be happy with.

“O - okay,” Midoriya said, eyebrows twitching with confusion. He brushed it off, and tore off a piece of notebook paper, scribbling down some digits.

“Um, I really should get home soon so my mum doesn’t worry, but if you want to do something - please call it. Please,” Midoriya stammered, teeth worrying over his lip. His hands scrunched up in his sleeves as he bowed his head. “Just - thank you! So much! Really… that was so cool!”

“You’re welcome,” Shouto said again. This boy was so jumpy, he was like a little ball of electricity.

He folded the piece of paper carefully and pushed it inside his trouser pocket. If he had his way, he wouldn’t be losing that anytime soon. If he couldn’t get hold of a burner phone he would just use a public telephone. Midoriya - he was nice. Nice and clean, free from the dirt that Shouto felt entrenched in sometimes. Their way of living was free from Endeavor, but it wasn’t always the nicest . 

It would be good to have a friend his age. 

Shouto carefully thumbed the number into his new burner phone. Well, new was a misnomer, the model having cracks spread across the screen and the camera was always blurry. But it was his, so he didn’t mind.

He could finally talk to Midoriya.

You want to meet at Kintsugi Park in 2 hrs?

The reply came almost instantly.

Yeah sure! :)

Shouto breathed a sigh of relief. He’d been slightly nervous the other boy would have changed his mind, decided he was too much of a weirdo, but apparently not. He was going to meet a friend.

Touya had already left at the crack of dawn, same as every morning this week, so Shouto didn’t need to do anything other than simply leave. Villainy never ran on schedule, after all.

Shouto walked through the streets, aware of the slight stares prickling at his back, but never letting them reach him. Protected by both his mask and his current hair colour of a brilliant blue, no one would recognise him as the lost hero’s child.

Shouto made his way to the park, and caught sight of the small patch of green tucked under a tree and looking around nervously.

Midoriya saw him and waved, an electric movement that had him bouncing on the balls of his feet. Shouto walked over, carefully keeping an eye on the other members of the park. He chose this one in particular because of the large amount of trees and bushes, keeping the guests relatively hidden. That, and it just wasn’t that popular.

“Can we sit somewhere more private?” Shouto asked, pointing towards a gap in between two trees. Through there was an even more shaded area, one he’d scoped out just yesterday.

“Oh, sure!” Midoriya agreed easily.

They settled on the grassy patch on the other side of the hedge, greenery surrounding them. Shouto hooked one arm round his knee and rested his head on his elbow, as he watched Midoriya fidget his way down, finally getting comfortable with his coat used as a blanket beneath him.

“So, um, what school do you go to?” Midoriya asked, fingers picking at the zip on his coat.

Shouto internally sighed. If every question was going to be about personal business, they weren’t going to get very far.

“I don’t, really,” Shouto said. “I learn through my own ways.”

Midoriya nodded his head frantically. “That’s cool, doing stuff on your own is so cool. Wish I could just do that…” Midoriya sighed. “Might be nicer.”

“It’s alright,” Shouto said with a casual shrug of his shoulder. “School sounds like it could be fun too.”

Midoriya made a face, lips pressed flatly together. “It… it could be,” He mumbled slightly. “Anyway! Did you see that fight yesterday? Mt Lady versus that thief? So cool, right?”

“Cool if you believe in the heroic propaganda they spread,” Shouto muttered. “He was only stealing a purse, and they come down on him like he’s a serial killer, just distracting everyone from the ethical problems with their force of personality. I mean, why does Mt Lady even work in such crowded districts? Isn’t that dangerous?”

“It’s where the most people are,” Midoriya shot back. “Where the most people need help.”

“Right, and people need a twenty foot woman to save them from a purse snatcher.”

“Okay, so maybe not in that case,” Midoriya said, cheeks rapidly flustering. “But cities are the focal points of villainous activities. If she left, she wouldn’t be close enough in times of real emergencies.”

Shouto tilted his head, considering. “Maybe,” he managed. “But does she really need that level of publicity around her? The only reason they fought that guy was to gain fame, they don’t know why he was stealing. They don’t care about helping, only about the optics.”

Midoriya fell silent, staring at the grass. His fingers twisted around his zipper.

Shit. Shouto had fucked up.

“I - I’m sorry,” Shouto mumbled. “I’m not very good with talking to people. I’m sorry if I was rude or something.”

Midoriya let out a small breath before looking back up at Shouto. “No, it’s okay. You’re - you’re not wrong . It’s just… the whole hero ranking system is built on getting seen. They have to do that in order to be heard and help more people. That’s what they’re supposed to be, a shining figure of hope. They can’t do that if no one knows who they are.”

“But can they really ever be a shining figure of hope if they pick and choose who’s worthy of being helped?” Shouto replied. “What about the rest of society? The ones that don’t get the option of sticking to what’s legal? Who do what they have to do because there’s no choice?”

“There’s always a choice,” Midoriya said determinedly. “Always.”

Shouto rolled his eyes behind the mask. “Just because you have the freedom to make that choice doesn’t mean everyone does.”

Midoriya gave him a wan smile. “I don’t, actually.”

He paused, visibly hesitating. “What I want to do… Most of all, I want to be a hero. It’s my dream. But… I’m quirkless. Everyone’s told me all my life I’m never going to make it, never going to amount to anything. If I listened to them, believed them, I don’t know what I might do. But I choose not to, choose to believe there’s still a chance. Some people…. I think they give up, far too early.”

Oh. He was quirkless. Shouto knew of only one other quirkless person through his years on the street, and what he knew was that the world did not look kindly on them. Becoming a hero… without a quirk, that was impossible. Heroics was all about strength, a constant battle of warriors showing each other up. Quirkless people didn’t fit into that world.

But that was always what Endeavor had believed. Heroes belying strength. Worth based on how much they could destroy. On that model, the quirkless were useless. But Shouto wasn’t his father, he didn’t want to continue that mental legacy.

“I suppose you probably want to leave now,” Midoriya mumbled. “Most people don’t want to be friends with a quirkless loser.”

Shouto frowned. “I still want to be friends with you. Even if we disagree on some things, it doesn’t mean I want to leave. I don’t care if you're quirkless.”

“You - you don’t?” Midoriya stared up at him, wide eyes rapidly growing misty.

Shouto shook his head. “Of course not.”

Suddenly, Midoriya leapt forward. His arms wrapped around Shouto and gripped hard. Shouto sat there, arm pinned to his leg. This wasn’t the most comfortable, but Midoriya seemed to like it so he let it be. 

Eventually, the itching on his skin from the constant touch grew unbearable. Hugging from anyone other than Touya was too much.

“Can you get off me now?” Shouto asked plaintively.

Midoriya leapt back, sitting back on his coat. He rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. 

“Sorry about that,” he said, smiling awkwardly.

“It’s okay,” Shouto said. He understood it, the pressing urge to reach out and connect. He was just glad he hadn’t misstepped, pushing Midoriya away the moment he’d opened his mouth.

“Thank you. For talking with me,” Shouto continued, words stumbling out of mouth.

Midoriya smiled, this time much warmer. “It’s okay. Your thoughts - they were interesting. It’s good to talk about different sides of things even if we don’t agree. It’s nice to actually discuss it with someone and not just… well, have my thoughts entirely ignored.”

Shouto breathed a sigh of relief. 

“So,” Midoriya began, with a slight edge glinting in his eye, like he knew exactly what he was going to dig into with one sentence. “What are your current opinions on vigilante law?

And Shouto leant forward, and talked .