Chapter Text
The first memory, shaded by the fuzzy edges and bright colors of a toddler’s mind, wasn’t a word, a place or his mother. No, it was a face, still softly rounded from lingering baby fat, attached to a feeling of pure love and care. Touya. The more memories developed, the more senses became attached to them. Indecipherable mumbles meant to be stories, roughness of bandages, half-remembered sweetness from secret treats for celebration. Trips out of the house, the coldness of winter, then… The sharp smell of alcohol, crowd of other bodies, flashes of color and sparks of power in a ring below a metal fence. This was one memory that never dulled or faded, maybe because the fighting rings were a repeat visit, though the less common presences that were hardly remembered never joined them again. Everything was Touya, bad nights or upset stomachs or holidays? It was always his oldest brother orchestrating things. Then Shouto’s Quirk came in. The sudden change in treatment caused a big argument, a physical fight, then- Gone. The solid anchor, the source of comfort, vanished without a proper trace, an empty coffin buried, a world gone cold and gray. That was the day ‘papa’ turned to ‘father’, the threat more present instead of a sense of distant disapproval. This was where the spiral started.
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Four long, miserable years later, and it was another day of the same thing. Refusal to use his fire, a yelling match with Enji, a beating into the mat in the dojo. It was a constant mental battering of ‘use your fire’ ‘you’re meant to be a hero’, it was all about the fire. Well, his father would get his wish, just not in the way or at the time he wanted. Basic facemask, some swiped cosmetics from his mom’s untouched makeup stash to color his hair, only using concealer to round out the edges of his scar and the eight-year-old Todoroki slipped off the estate, letting half-formed memories of happy nights guide his step. The walk was longer than he remembered, the twists and turns leaving Shouto uncertain, but eventually he was there. The mask concealed the eager smile as a near-invisible door was pulled open and he slipped into the ring club.
Now, ringmaster, where is the ringmaster…Ah! There! Chin up, shoulders back, doing his best to put on an air of confidence, the kid didn’t let himself hesitate as he walked over to the man running the show, trying to take in anything that could be useful before discarding the appearance from memory. “You run the schedule, right? I want in.” Snakelike gold eyes focused on him, obviously noting the height and tone of voice before snorting. “What, you have a death wish or something? Go home kid, you’re clearly out past curfew.” Shouto couldn’t explain why, but there was a spike of anger at being clearly dismissed so easily. “I’m not going until I have a fight.” A raised eyebrow. “We don’t accept children as fighters-”
“One fight. If I lose, I completely avoid anything and everything that counts as a fighting ring.” In all honesty, Shouto was making that offer to avoid any issues, quietly hoping that it would be an easy fight. He didn’t want to give this up, it was so familiar, so welcoming and friendly almost, a connection to Touya.
There was a moment of silence, the ringmaster’s eyes narrowed before he finally spoke again. “One match. What am I putting you down as?”
“Just call me Flare.” Now all he had to do was wait, which was surprisingly nerve-wracking, but once he was in the ring, it was like the world… Faded out. The grumbling of the crowd faded out, the rules of the fight the only words he allowed into his mind, focus collapsing onto his opponent. Twitching and curled hands, obviously five-point contact Quirk, slight lean to his left side, clear weakness… The world was a blur of colors, the stranger lunged, it was so easy to twist under reaching arms and kick the weakened leg muscle, watch the stumble and send flashes of fire to lick at the back of his opponent's legs, make him fall and cage him with flames.
As the crowd went silent before exploding with support for the young fighter, a feeling of being welcomed back to where he belonged flooded through Shouto’s veins, a phantom hand on his shoulder. He liked to believe it was Touya’s approval from wherever he was watching, a soft smile on his face under the mask.
This is where the spiral started, though the progression into the depths truly started at UA.