Chapter Text
Enji hit Shoto. That was a norm in the Todoroki household.
Ever since Shoto became two years old in a shower of snow and superheated rain, Enji had trained him. Enji had hit him, had driven little Shoto to the point of collapse, to the point of vomiting. Ever since then, he hurt Rei even more, ignored her and his other children’s needs to the point where she did every little thing. It was no wonder she-
At first, Touya was jealous he still was. At first, Natsuo was angry he still is. And at first, Fuyumi was sad. She had lost another brother, a family member, to This. This cause Nobody but Enji cared about, fought for. Sure, Touya said he cared, but everyone knew he wanted Enji to look at him. To see him, and not another failure.
But this was different. Shoto was different. He had the perfect quirk for Enji’s goals. The perfect quirk to remove his father’s drawbacks. No one would let Enji hear how they knew Shoto didn’t have the right spirit or body for it.
Fuyumi, Natsuo, and Touya were all out in the garden. While the boys were playing ball, Fuyumi was tending to the garden. It had been years since her mother or gardeners were allowed to clean it, or feed the fish, or water the plants. ‘But that’s okay! I can do it!’ She found it quite relaxing, so of course there were no complaints.
However, despite how calm and free the atmosphere was, you’d have to be a fool to miss the vibrations and sounds coming from the opposite side of the house. Clearly, Shoto would need help bandaging up today. ‘It’s Touya-nii’s turn bandaging, right?’
The three of them ignored it - there wasn’t anything they could do until after - this was normal. And so life continued on.
“AAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!” A blood curdling scream. The voice was much too high pitched to be Enji. It sounded like a baby's cry mixed with someone calling bloody murder.
The three of them were out of the garden and running toward the training room within a second.
Shoto Todoroki's whole world was his mother. She was his light, she was his darkness, his day and night. He looked up to her in a way that he couldn't look up to anyone else. Not his brothers, not his sister, definitely not his father.
So when the incident happened, when she was forced to go away, Shoto was a wreck. What was he meant to do without his mama? What was he meant to do without his light, his darkness, without any sort of guidance? ‘She even missed my birthday.’
He would face his father with no opposition. Fuyumi wouldn't help, she was deluded into thinking they could become a normal family. Touya wouldn't help, he didn't like Shoto that much. And if Shoto was being honest he's pretty sure that he would let him live with the wolves if he had the option. And Natsuo would simply just yell at Enji. It would rile him up even more, cause more pain than necessary. Shoto couldn't rely on them.
So Shoto had to rely on himself. There was no one else to rely on, it was him and him alone. He had to be his own protector, he had to be his own light, his own guide. No one else would save him; they lived in the house of a ‘hero’ so of course no one thought it was necessary to save them. Not like anyone knew that they needed saving.
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Shoto was sitting on the floor staring aimlessly at the wall. He had just finished tutoring lessons and there was nothing much else to do. Enji didn't let him draw or play games or do most things that kids his age would do. He didn't go to school, he didn't have friends, the only people he could talk to were Enji, and his tutors. He used to be able to talk to his mama but she's not around anymore.
As the sounds of stomping footsteps could be heard down the corridor, Shoto sighed. It seemed his reprieve was for not, training time was soon. Soon Shoto would go through a hell like no other. ‘Training is not the privilege Touya-nii makes it out to be.’
It is painful and hurtful and it makes Shoto want to scream and cry and end it all, but he won't. He promised mama he wouldn't. He promised her after she found him. She promised that she would stay by him, but she couldn't help that she couldn't. That wasn't her fault, she didn't try to do that, it was all Enji's fault, it was his fault, it was his fault, his fault, his faul-
Shoto was broken out of his stewing by a hand wrapping around his small arm. Enji's hand was always so much bigger than Shoto’s. It was almost as big as his face. If Enji really wanted to, he could grab Shoto’s head with his hand and end him with just a good squeeze. Shoto was more fragile than Touya, at least that's what he's been told. His build wasn't as chunky as Natsuo's, it wasn't as dainty as Fuyumi’s, it wasn't as lean as Touya’s, it wasn't as perfect as his mother's. It most certainly wasn't his father's. He was like a mix, split down the middle, that's what his mama always called him.
Enji didn't say anything as he dragged Shoto down the corridor. There was no need, they knew where they were going. To hell, to training, to the same damn place they went to every single day. Shoto wasn't sure how much more he could take before he ended up like his mother.
The shoji door slammed open as Shoto hit the tatami. He ducked and rolled as he landed. Enji stalked over, his figure was tall and menacing. Shoto was sure that if he hadn't seen this countless times he would have been quivering in fear. Instead he simply glared up at the man. He felt no fear for this looming presence, he felt no fear for this pain, this agony; He'd known it day in, day out, from the day he manifested his quirk.
The stare down only lasted a few seconds. Then, Shoto was dodging the fist that came flying his way. Punches and kicks were thrown, screaming and threats, and violence and pain, and quirks were thrown haphazardly. Shoto was sure that multiple bones in his body were broken, or at least fractured. It was guaranteed he had two cracked ribs.
Over time, Shoto’s reaction speed had been getting slower and slower, and Enji’s roars got louder and louder. He was angry. They both were angry. One was angry over the loss of his mother, his light, his day, his leading light, the reason why he was even still alive, the reason he was alive in the first place. One was angry that he was weak, that he could not surpass someone even after decades, and that his investment, replacement, someone who could do it for him, wasn’t cooperating, was not listening, was simply refusing.
And so the fight went on, that is, until Enji finally landed a solid blow, a blow right on the side of Shoto’s head. Shoto wouldn't be able to get up for the next few hours.
All three of them had crowded the training room’s doors, the sounds of training reverberating throughout the house. You could be at the opposite side of the estate, and still hear Shoto and Enji’s battle.
Fuyumi, and her brothers, were concerned. This training session was unusually loud and long. 'If even Touya is here, then should I just break down the door?'
Resolved, Fuyumi turned to her brothers, “Natsu, Touya, can you help me break dow-” The boys were nodding and gearing up before she even finished, when they heard a sound. A Crack! They slowly turned between the still shut door of the now silent training room, mortification and dawning horror written in their faces.
All three of them slammed into the door, one, two times before it toppled to the floor. Fire and ice, blood and spittle, vomit and tears wreathed the walls and tatami. On the floor, covered in his own blood, spit, tears, vomit, bruises, quirk related frost and burns, and broken (or fractured) limps, was their baby brother. Shoto, small, fragile, resilient Shoto, covered in his agony.
Enji stood an arms reach away, breath heaving like a dog as he glared at the three children that just burst into the room. He had his own blood, spit, and Shoto created frost on him. Shoto seemed to have given him some burns and bruises too. Clearly, the enraged boy -they heard his cries in the cacophony that had been the training room, just minutes prior- had been somewhat of a threat to the veteran pro (Which was terrifying to think about).
Despite her stillness, Fuyumi quickly chose their roles as she called to Natsuo, “Call an ambulance!” she turned to her older brother, “Get the first-aid kit.” Touya nodded as he ran out after Natsuo.
Fuyumi rushed over and looked Shoto over. He was covered in burns and bodily fluids. The burn from a few months ago was mostly healed. Fuyumi still averted her eyes. 'I can’t think about mom right now, Shoto is relying on me right now.' He had a broken left Humerus and Ulna, a fractured right Femur, a fractured left Tibia, three cracked ribs, a broken wrist, a few broken fingers and toes, and many, many bruises, burns, and Ice burns. She couldn’t really check for internal bleeding, and she had already stopped all the external bleeding. Clearly, Shoto had a concussion and probably a cracked (at least) skull, but Fuyumi checked Shoto's pupils anyway.
She had to hold herself back from screaming at their father, not only for doing this to her baby brother, but because all he was doing was standing there, arms crossed and a disappointed look on his face. It was hard to think of a happy family at these times. The only thing on her mind at times like this was patricide. ‘Maybe I should go with plan AJ instead of AB?’
He eventually walked off, Fuyumi could hear him enter and leave his room and then the estate altogether.
“Of course, he’s off to do hero work after beating his youngest child.” Touya said as he entered the training room with the industrial level first-aid kit. Fuyumi couldn’t disagree with that. Natsuo returned at about the same time, and together the three of them got to work patching up their little brother.
“So…” Natsuo, who, despite being the only one aiming for medicine, was the worst (at least compared to Fuyumi and Touya) at doing first-aid, awkwardly started. Touya raised a prompting eyebrow. “I was wondering,” He paused, “What do we say to the EMTs or doctors?”
‘Good’ Fuyumi thought. If anyone needed to learn what to say in this situation, then it was Natsu.
“Nothing.” Fuyumi and Touya chorused. They had learned from their mother, and Shoto doesn’t talk to strangers anyway. Natsuo stared skeptically, before seeming to accept it. Eventually, Shoto was as bandaged as he could get.
“How far out is the ambulance?” Touya asked.
“It should be twenty minutes now.” Natsu said.
“Okay good.” Fuyumi said before panning to the rest of the room, “Now help me cool down the room and Shoto.” Together they got to work, cleaning the room fast after it’s cooling.
It’s to time wait for the authorities.