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The Todoroki family was far from a family, even only a few years after it began.
But, there was a time when it could seem united, especially in the eyes of two children who didn’t know better. Two children not united for a single goal, nor a friendship, but something as simple as two siblings with only a year age gap.
There was a time before the Todoroki family shattered into a dozen sharp pieces ready to be weaponized at every moment, yet it rested forgotten in the minds of four individuals.
“Are we there yet?” Touya asked, kicking his legs against his seat.
“We haven’t even left,” Fuyumi said in her twisted child dialogue, sucking on her thumb.
Touya was three, and she was two, and there wasn’t yet a baby to be named Natsuo resting in their mothers chest. The name All Might hadn’t yet been said around their too-small ears and quirks hadn’t yet graced their lives, but the clock was ticking, and a subnormal family experience was all they knew so far.
“But I don’t wanna go in the car,” he whined again, falling backwards onto the blanket.
“It’s only an hour drive, Touya,” their mother chided, walking over, “And it’s so you both can see the beach at least once!”
“It’s a good life experience,” their father grunted from where he was grabbing their bags to toss into the car.
“Life ex-peer-ay-ence,” Fuyumi babbled.
Touya didn’t know what the beach was, or why he had to see it, but he wasn’t interested. He just knew that he hated the car, and he didn’t want to go in it. Fuyumi was annoying and he didn’t want to sit next to her for that long— even if he did everyday for triple that amount of time while they played. He didn’t realize that, only thinking of the car that was already bringing tears to his eyes.
Their mother walked over, moving to pick him up. He stopped her, not wanting to be seen as a little kid. He could walk himself, and he didn’t even need to hold his moms hand.
Fuyumi on the other hand was a hand that he definitely needed to hold. Except she wasn’t standing yet, so he didn’t know what to do. He had already rejected his mothers arms, so she had begun picking up their things, and Fuyumi was still sucking her thumb like a baby. She was a baby.
“Fuyumi,” he demanded, holding out a hand.
Neither of them noticed their mother watching them with a smile, nor the softening of their fathers gruff face. All Touya saw was that he had to hold Fuyumi’s hand or she’d stupidly fall, and she stared at the hand extended with blurry eyes.
“Okay!”
Her thumb was removed from her mouth, a smile gracing it instead. The air was warm, something that was grating on three of them, and they were ready to go. The youngest of the family took her brothers hand, pulling herself up on weak legs and allowing herself to be dragged after him. Their mom grabbed the blanket swiftly now that they were both off of it, moving back into the children’s eyesight before they ever noticed she had left.
Touya paused outside of the car, Fuyumi bumping into him as he dropped her hand. That was why he always had to hold it, because otherwise she walked into everything possible, and he couldn’t let that happen.
“I don’t wanna go.”
“Touya,” their father chided from where he was climbing into the drivers seat.
“I hate cars.”
“I’ll get in!” Fuyumi volunteered, moving past him and climbing her way into the vehicle, “Help me please.”
She had gotten into her seat, but the buckles were still beyond her flimsy hands. Touya wasn’t going to let his baby sister beat him, so he pulled himself up and past her, falling into his own seat despite his disdain for the car. He fumbled with the seat belts, reaching to buckle it in.
Before frustration could begin to gather in him, a head of hair in stark contrast to his own was beside him. His mom was smiling, and upon looking beside him he saw Fuyumi was buckled in and back to sucking her thumb.
“I can do it,” he huffed, despite his arms already sat in his lap while his mom did it for him.
“I know, but I like to help.”
“Why do you hate the car?” Fuyumi’s words mashed together, but he always understood what she meant.
“Just because.”
“But it takes us to the park.”
“And it’s dumb!”
“Touya,” his name came from the front passenger seat this time, where his mom was smiling back at him, despite scolding his language.
The car began to move, and he felt himself press back into the seat. He kicked his legs against the chair, energy thrumming through him from his sleep that he’d just woken up from. Fuyumi had found her blanket and now had that in her mouth. He was old enough to not eat everything in sight, so he didn’t get why she wasn’t yet.
Outside of the window the buildings passed by, and they eventually turned to trees. He didn’t like it.
Their parents were talking about something in the front seats, but he didn’t get it. It was work talk, something that he always wanted to know more about, but they never let him. More specifically, his mom never let him, always stepping in before he could learn more. He was old enough to know.
“This is pointless,” his dad said, loud enough for him to hear.
Fuyumi had heard too, apparently, “What does point-less mean?”
Touya knew that! He had learned about it in preschool, and his mom told him again when he almost hit his head on the counter corner.
“Points! Sharp stuff, like corners!”
He waited for his parents to applaud him, but instead they looked at each other cautiously. His mom looked almost sad, or maybe angry at his dad. And his dad looked… angry, too. He wasn’t sure why.
“Like forks,” Fuyumi mumbled.
“Yeah! Right, dad?”
He saw his dads eyes in the center mirror of the car, focusing back on Touya and away from whatever distraction he’d had. Blue met blue, and it was impossible for the older’s eyes to not soften.
“That’s what point means, yes.”
Touya clapped his hands, looking at Fuyumi to prove himself right. She looked excited, and he was too.
And then, something felt wrong.
It was in an instant, and suddenly it was as if his stomach was thrown somewhere. It felt like that time that he ate fish, and it tasted so bad that it made him sick and kept him away from Fuyumi for a day. Except, he hadn’t eaten fish, and he was just sitting in the car.
His excitement faded, and along with that so did Fuyumi’s as a childish worry set on her face. He looked out of the window for a moment, his brows furrowed as he tried not to cry. He didn’t want to cry, because he was grown up now, and he couldn’t do that.
But, he felt really, really bad.
“Touya? Are you alright?” his dad asked, and the car turned, which only made him feel worse.
And, he was sick, just like from the fish.
Five minutes later they were pulled over, his mom cleaning up the mess with her hand kneading through his hair. Fuyumi was still buckled up beside him and had finally stopped crying, instead just as far out of her car seat as she could manage to try to get close to him.
“I didn’t eat fish,” he cried.
“There are other reasons to get sick. You got carsick, Touya.”
“Am I gonna die?”
Fuyumi gasped, tears welling in her eyes again.
“No! Of course not! It just means that you may get sick from being in cars. It’s normal, and happens when people turn too much, or maybe if someone is just a bad driver,” his mom laughed lightly.
“Okay,” he nodded, letting her wipe at his tears.
“You’re not gonna die?” Fuyumi asked, her voice watery again.
“Not at all,” their dad opened her door, “But you need some water. Here.”
“I have water,” he mumbled.
“Cold water.”
“Mom can do that.”
The back and fourth continued for a moment, before his mom gave in and handed him his water cup, cooling it herself as he had asked. His nose was still runny, and it smelled bad in the car, but the doors were open and fixing it.
He still wanted to go home, and he definitely hated the car now.
They were apparently closer to the beach than home, but he still didn't want to go. Fuyumi had fallen asleep, apparently too tired after crying, and Touya was supposed to try the same so he didn’t get sick again.
Half an hour later he was being woken up by his sisters giggles, where she was standing outside of the car. He realized instantly that he wasn’t holding her hand, and neither was their parents, and that was a problem. It wasn’t long before he was unbuckling himself and climbing across the seats, nearly falling out of the car on top of her before shoving his hand out.
She took it without complaint, “Look at the beach!”
In front of them was undoubtedly something they hadn’t seen before. There was water, like the koi ponds, but much larger. And… something, which his parents called sand.
“Look both ways!” their dad called as he pulled Fuyumi forward, running to the sand.
“Okay!” she responded.
It was only an instant before they both fell onto the sand, but it didn’t hurt. It fell through their fingers like nothing they had ever seen before, and he already threw some at Fuyumi. She was trying to eat it.
After a bit of warnings to both of them, their parents scooped them up and brought them down to cold water. Much, much larger than a koi pond.
It felt like his moms ice, so cold that it almost burned.
A flame was tossed across the room, scorching the wall as Dabi sat up abruptly. He was on the couch in the lounge of their current base.
His wrist burned.
They had intercepted Overhaul’s truck the day before.
He didn’t know the reason for the nightmare, but he did know that whoever was coming down the hall right now was in for it.
He wasn’t going to hold anyones hand or fall into ocean water, not as his skin bled from the quirk use in his sleep.
The Todoroki family was far from a united, close family, and those cracks had only grown deeper. It made them much, much easier to expose when the time was right.