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The snow was falling steadily, its quiet hush blanketing the world around the Todoroki household in white. Enji Todoroki sat just outside the window, his body growing numb in the cold but strong, turquoise eyes unwavering. Through the slowly frosting glass, he could see them—his family, gathered together around the dinner table in the warm light of their traditional structure.
Inside, the Todoroki brood were sharing a meal, their movements gentle, their expressions relaxed. They had learned, at long last, after so much strife and rifts among them, how to be comfortable together. They had learned, in a way that Endeavour never had. Enji felt the sharp ache of that thought, like the cold the was seeping deep into his bones.
No too long ago, there had been a time when he still believed thought he could build a family by force. His quirk, his power, his relentless will—he had believed that these things could be enough to forge something indestructible. Something that was the absolute best. Someone to worship and become inspired by. But, only this year, had he truly learned an important lesson - fire could only destroy what it was not careful to cherish.
His gaze lingered on Rei. She was smiling, a quiet, reserved smile that held none of the fear or resentment he had once come to expect, her white hair falling gracefully around her weary shoulders. She looked… peaceful. Like she was at ease for the first time in her life. Seeing her like this was almost painful, a mirror to Endeavo- no, his own failures. Once upon a time, he had demanded her devotion, her submission to his will—he had brought out her parents and forced her into a loveless marriage, that neither of them truly wanted. He had taken her life, her dreams, and moulded them to fit his own machinations, forcing her to bear heir after heir in hope of a true successor to his merciless pursuit. And in the end, he had not only broken her but scarred their children in the process.
Rei had been his victim as much as his partner. He made no effort to hide chosen her for her quirk, making clear that she was nothing more than an extension of his ambitions. She bore the brunt of his anger, his obsession, and eventually his cruelty, culminating in her being locked away in a psych ward, unable to comfort her children as his abuse continued on them. And yet, here was she, alive and whole in ways he could hardly comprehend, her spirit still unbroken despite everything he had done. Now, watching her interact with their children, Enji was struck by another ache, this one deafeningly hollow. She had suffered so much under him, and somehow, she had found the strength to forgive him for all that he had done—not for his sake, but for that of their children’s. It was like the plot out of one of those romance novels or manga that littered the shelves – he truly was that cliché, huh?
His gaze shifted to Shoto, seated quietly next to the head of the table, and felt a fresh stab of regret and pain. Shoto, whom, from the moment of his birth, bore the weight of his father’s ambitions. Shoto, who had endured years of training and pressure that no child should ever know. Enji had wanted him to surpass All Might, but at what cost? His son’s childhood? His happiness?
And Natsuo… Natsuo had always been the one who defied him, the one who saw through the façade of power and refused to bend. Enji knew that the bitterness in Natsuo’s heart was his doing. How could he blame his son for looking at him with resentment? After all, he had taken so much from them—love, innocence, trust—and given them only fear in return.
Fuyumi, too, had suffered, though she had always tried to mend what was broken. She had shouldered the burden of holding the family together, even as it splintered under his relentless demands. If anyone in that room understood the weight of his regret, it was Fuyumi. She had spent years trying to keep them whole, to heal wounds that he had left open, festering and bleeding.
And then… there was Touya. The name alone was a wound. His son, lost to the flames of his father’s Ambition. Dabi—the man that Touya had become—was the living embodiment of Enji’s greatest failure. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t forget the sight of his firstborn, burned and broken, a twisted shadow of the boy he once loved. He didn’t care about the whole publicity stunt – his eldest had been cast aside like a forgotten toy, his inherited dreams crushed upon the birth of his youngest, all due to his powerful, but flawed quirk, more powerful than anything Hellflame could ever hope to become. Even now, Toya floated, forever bound inside a perpetual bacta tank, his life fading as he struggled to speak even a few words – those that did come, however, were filled with a justified hatred for Endeavor that Enji could never hope to rectify in his son’s quickly fading lifespan.
They didn’t know Enji was out here, watching them. Or maybe they did. Maybe they just didn’t care. A part- no, all of him thought that was only fair. After everything he had done, he deserved to be little more than a ghost to them, kept at and watching from a distance, never truly a part of their lives.
The snow continued to fall, Enji’s remaining arm resting on the windowsill. His injuries from the conflict that was the Final War had left him a broken man, physically as well as emotionally. He had lost more than just him arm – he had lost his public identity as the Flame Hero Endeavor. Enji was no longer the man he once was, and that, in some ways, was a mercy to him.
The retired hero exhaled - a slow, heavy breath that fogged the glass just slightly. "They could be saying anything," he murmured to himself. If I were to go in, I’d surely ruin it with my presence alone, his mind spoke for him.
It was ironic, he thought, how much he had wanted the recognition and admiration of others. He had been told from a young age that he would do great things with his powerful Quirk and become the best hero of them all. The way he was raised, growing up, he always felt distant from his salaryman father. Working day by day, his father eventually had enough of single parenting his teenage son and decided that he was going to become the greatest hero of all time, using the fire that had blessed their family for generations.
Seeing his father’s ashen corpse, along with that of the criminal and girl he tried to save should’ve hurt Enji, but no such things occurred. Instead, that teenager saw proof that not everyone could be a hero, especially those who didn’t work for it. From that moment he pushed himself, working from the ground up, trainer harder, faster, smarter and making sure that not a single waking moment went go to waste. What once was a “Fire” had truly become a “Hellflame” by the time he finished at UA, quickly rising through the Hero ranks after debuting in the top 25 - “Endeavor” was the name he took, a sign of his commitment to working hard to achieve your goals. However, Enji could never surpass the Herculean force of nature that was All Might – he couldn’t even remember when his resentment for the Symbol of Peace began, only that it was born not from the person, but from where he stood in the polls. It had driven him to abandon his initial ethic, seeing only crimson as he established with jaded eyes that his only hope to win over the titan lied in his powerful spawn.
And now, when he was little more than a fading shadow on the edge of a broken society, and by extension, the Todoroki’s lives, he came to the realisation that what he truly wanted now wasn’t the admiration of the world but the acceptance of his own family. Enji wanted them to look at him with pride, with the love that only a family could provide for an individual. Good luck with that, he bitterly thought – he could barely stand to look at himself in the mirror, let alone make up for the mistakes and atrocities that he had inflicted in desperate pursuit of a foolish, and ultimately harming, goal. A doomed dream he had clutched onto with all of his might.
Enji could feel the bitter tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, stinging from the frost that had built up around his eyes, but pushed them back. He didn’t deserve to cry—not after everything he had done. It was better that he was left out here, alone in the cold – even now, it wouldn’t compare to the bone-chilling stares of the Ice-users, followed by being stuck in a permafrost cube for eternity. Slow and painful every moment with no reprieve or mercy; exactly how a monster like him should be dealt with. He had spent his life driven by a single purpose: to surpass All Might. But now, basking in the regrets that came in the aftermath of that pursuit, he realized that the person he truly wanted to surpass was himself and even then, up until recently, he had spent his whole life chasing others and when it finally came his turn to lead, he-
A slight movement caught his attention, bringing him back to reality, and he looked sideways to see the sliding door open, the warm glow of the interior spilling out into the snow. Rei stepped outside, wrapping her arms around herself against the cold. She spotted him and offered a small smile, her eyes filled with a warmth that he hadn’t seen in years.
"Enji," she called softly, her voice carrying through the snowfall of the winter night.
Before he could respond, Fuyumi appeared behind her, the bright grin on her face quickly shifting to a still-energetic concern. "Hey Mom, why are you.. Dad! What are you doing out here in the cold? You must be freezing!"
She hurried over, brushing snow from his shoulders, slightly laughing as she did. Her touch was gentle, warm, and he felt a pang of guilt. She shouldn’t have to take care of him like this, not after everything he had put her through.
"I thought you all were... I didn’t want to disturb you," he murmured somewhat timidly, his voice barely audible.
Natsuo somewhat joined them, holding the sliding door from inside the house, his expression guarded but not with his usual hostility. He looked at his father for a moment, his gaze unreadable. "We almost forgot about you out here," he spoke deliberately, though Enji could swear that the edge present in his tone softened. "Pity. Guess it’s too hopeful to wish that some things actually change."
Enji felt a surge of shame from the sarcastic comment, as well as slight embarrassment. Had they really forgotten him, rather than intentionally abandoned the trashfire that he was? Had he truly been sitting out here for so long, lost in his own thoughts, that he hadn’t even considered that they might have just left him there by mistake?
Shoto appeared last, his expression as neutral as ever. In fact, Enji had never known someone could have such an emotionless resting face until his young son came along into the world. He looked down at his once-gargantuan father with a cool, assessing gaze, then tilted his head slightly. "Come on, Dad," he said, his voice dry. "… Stop being a drama queen and sulking out here in the cold."
Enji let out a lugh suddenly - a real, unexpected laugh that quite frankly took him by surprise. There was something about the half-and-half boy’s deadpan tone, the way he so casually dismissed his parent’s self-imposed exile, that struck him as oddly humorous, while simultaneously comforting.
Fuyumi, being the responsible woman she had grown up to be in spite of him, was already slowly wheeling him back towards the open doorway, her hands gentle on the handles. Rei followed closely, her gaze not distant, but instead soft and patient. Natsuo held the sliding door open, the barest trace of a smile visible on his lips, and Shoto walked beside the retired Number 1 Hero, his expression once more unreadable.
Inside, contrary to what one would expect of the traditional structure that was the home of Ice users, the warmth hit him like a wave, and he realized just how cold he had been outside. Ironic, coming from a man with a family of ice users, he couldn’t help but think. The room was filled with a comforting glow, the smell of a freshly-cooked meal still lingering in the air. As the Todoroki family worked in tandem to guide and then wheel their patriarch into his position at the head of the table, Enji felt a strange sense of belonging—a feeling he hadn’t experienced for what felt like an almost insurmountable amount of time.
As they settled around him, resuming their meals, Shoto leaned in next to him, his expression turning unexpectedly serious as he finished off his favourite zaru soba (which, as a matter of fact, was actually served hot, instead of his usual cold preference).
"Dad," he began, his voice quiet but firm. "Have I ever told you about the relationship between Midoriya and All Might?"
Enji blinked, half a kuzumochi still in his mouth and completely caught off guard by the sudden question. About those two, of all people. He swallowed almost too fast and replied. "What are you talking about?"
The faintest of faint smiles played on Shoto’s lips, a small hint of mischief present in his heterochromatic eyes. "It might just shock you to your core."
The others around them stifled laughter, and Enji felt an unexpected warmth blossom in his chest. For the first time in years, he felt something like hope—although it seemed like a fragile, tentative thing, it was there all the same.
As they laughed and bantered, exchanging counterpoints with the entirely serious Shoto (the latter now beginning to rant about how Midoriya was their distant cousin due to his parentage), he found himself sinking into the warmth of the room, the sound of the Todoroki family’s various voices wrapping around him like a warm scarf. No, it was far from any kind of perfection. No, he could never hope to erase or cover up the past injustices they had experienced at his hands. But yes, in that moment, the frosted window across the room reflecting both happy environment and the genuine grin on his face, Enji Todoroki felt that he might just still have a place to belong after all, in his chaotic group of people whom his actions brought together: his family.