He had never paid mind to pebbles. He wasn't blind, he noticed them, but their presence wasn't of any consequence to him, not until he decided to actually look at them. In doing so, in actively acknowledging the existence of pebbles under his feet, Touya could direct his attention away from his father's fiery presence at his side as well as ignore the sting of Fuyumi's nails harshly digging into the flesh of his arm like icepicks.

It was nothing new. Endeavor led them like the patriarch he was, Touya and Fuyumi on his left, while their mother and Natsuo walked on his right. They would carry themselves with faked confidence and ease, ignoring the tension shrouding them like a thick layer of mist. It was the best they could do to create the image of the perfect family.

Fortunately, these joint outings were rare. Unfortunately, they weren't rare enough. And thus, his sister was now again clinging to him as though he was a lifeline, cutting off the circulation in his arm. Not that he blamed her. He was fortunate to feel her, to be with her at all.

The outside was different in that it was vast, much bigger than the confines of their house and the designated areas they were allowed to inhabit within it. The two of them didn't fit out here, where people could flout freedom neither Touya nor Fuyumi had ever experienced. They pretended to not revel in the novelty and strangeness the concept brought, as though they could take for granted a right they had never once tasted.

Touya thought their family a group of impostors. They were criminals in a society where a hero's value was greater than Touya's, much greater yet than Fuyumi's or Natsuo's. Little and weak as they were, they would be devoured in no time at all if someone managed to glimpse beneath the carefully crafted exterior and recognize them for what they truly embodied.

Fucking failures, all of them. They'd heard it often enough to start believing it deep down. And although Touya knew it was his father's words that chained him to that perception of himself, he knew not how to break away from it. His flames burned much hotter than Endeavor's, the possibly greatest flame hero to ever exist, and yet they couldn't melt away the iron Touya was clad with.

Touya looked down on the ground they were walking on, his posture straight, albeit a little stiff. He felt small but still carried himself the way he'd been told to. It was an unconscious shift. To notice it was acid rising in his throat and molars grinding until his jaw ached. In all he did, there was a piece of his father within. Touya felt him in every intake of breath, in the rushing of blood in his ears.

What made the sting worse was the knowledge that this closeness, no matter how horrid and agonizing, was what Fuyumi craved. Just a little attention, a little acknowledgment. She too was a pebble.

Touya didn't look at her because he knew her eyes to be wide at that moment. He knew that if he stared too long, she would try to smile at him to make him believe she was alright. It was a smile he hated because it never rang true. A long time ago, it had. A few months or years ago, he had managed to grin back at her and make her laugh with his silliness. Not anymore.

Months or years? He couldn't remember. They had both forgotten how to be anything but shells.

Anyway. Touya watched the ground because his father's flames were too bright to look at, and he couldn't escape their rays by staring ahead. The light still blinded him from where Endeavor was parading with sure, powerful strides. It angered Touya. It was wrath he swallowed whole despite wanting to dig in his teeth.

He imagined scorch marks forming on the spots where his father's feet peeled off the pavement and melted holes reaching deep into the earth. If he looked down their expanse, Touya thought he would be unable to see their bottom, only finding hell if he dared to jump down. A devil always left footprints, wherever he went, because he needed to make an impression, needed to be seen and feared and remembered. No one would ever dare to forget the man who had melted the world to its core.

Touya knew his father could melt far more than just the ground they were walking on. Touya knew he himself could do the same and more, with flames much hotter and brighter. Not for the first time, he wondered how his flames would compare against his father's in a direct clash of force. Not for the first time he wondered if he could burn his father the way his own flames burned him.

The tender skin beneath Touya's sleeve was a constant ache. If Endeavor ever felt that same pain, maybe he wouldn't put him through the torment of training anymore. Maybe he would apologize. Maybe he would stop being the monster Touya saw standing over him with eyes exuding hatred, piercing deeper than burns ever could. If Touya somehow managed to hit him, just once, maybe there would be some sort of change. Maybe he would be proud of Touya for once.

Mother walked a half-step behind them, on Endeavor's right side. She was carrying Natsuo, who was still too small to walk long distances like these on his own. He wasn't too small to wear a suit and tie.

He smiled when mother bounced him in her arms, laughed when mother's arms tightened around him. Touya was certain he heard his mother chuckle. Deep inside him, something broke at that sound because he knew no matter what he did, he couldn't elate her the way his siblings could. Her gaze hardly ever found his anymore, as though she too had realized that his rotten insides were growing outward now. Only a rotten child would wish to strike their father.

On the ground lay pebbles.

Touya didn't feel them through the soles of his black dress shoes, which were padded nicely and added at least a centimeter to his height. He was as tall as his twin sister now, who was wearing ballet flats. She should be able to notice the stones pierce through the thin of her soles more so than he, but she didn't seem in pain, similar to how Touya ignored the bite of her nails. It just wasn't important. Maybe nothing was.

The stones definitely weren't important, but Touya noticed them because he had decided to. What a stupid thing to waste his time on.

Then, out of nowhere, there was a flash, soon joined by another, and another. A cascade of lights forced Touya to turn his head. Fuyumi's free hand curled around his like a viper curled around its prey. Her nails dug deeper, no doubt leaving marks on Touya's already damaged skin. Fear spiked in his heart like needles as he suppressed the urge to jump away, to pull his sister with him to put distance between them and the wave of photographers seemingly appearing out of thin air.

Endeavor meanwhile walked past the newcomers, undeterred. He dragged his family along without touching them. Not that he would, at least not in public. He spared them not a glance. All the while, Touya's heart beat fast enough to make him sick. The acid in his throat dared to jump out, but he quickly swallowed it down.

'Do not embarrass me,' Endeavor's voice thundered in Touya's head. Those turquoise eyes, an exact mirror of his own, had bored into Touya's hotter than flames, brighter than hellfire and camera lights. Touya knew why his father had addressed him in particular. He was the biggest disappointment in Endeavor's otherwise remarkable career.

Touya couldn't allow himself to make any more mistakes. Just breathing was too much sometimes. Puking in front of a dozen cameras certainly would be.

Touya pulled back his shoulders and lifted his gaze, standing his ground in spite of the shiver ghosting down his back. He looked straight ahead, mirroring his father, and squeezed Fuyumi's hand. She squeezed back, a tremor lining her movement as well, before letting go. Touya felt her linger for a second too long, a flash capturing the action before completion. There would be pictures of them with her twitching fingers wrapped around his own.

Touya felt a weight on him, like a shoe pressed against pebble, noticed by some, never lasting, never important. The weight never left, so Touya had learned not to fight it foolishly anymore. He needed to bear it, carry it, conquer it. And he would. One day, his chance would come. He burned too hotly to go down without noise. If he had to pick a way, he wanted it to be in a big, colorful bang worth remembering.

A reporter with long blond hair held a microphone under Endeavor's nose. Cameras captured him, his beautiful family an add-on, all of them dolled up and proper. When a movie camera focused on them, Endeavor proud and tall as always in the center, they stood their ground and faced it with grace.

'Say Cheese,' he heard his mother say, a memory faded and thin. He remembered the ease in which the motion had come to him once, remembered the elegance and beauty of smiling when being told to-not because he was told to but because he had felt the emotion regardless; an honest joy, a true smile that strained the cheeks until they hurt.

He had been happy once, before his quirk had come in. Back then, he still had known what it meant to be loved and cherished. But now, after years of anger festering, smiling was little more than a showing of teeth. It still hurt, but the pain was different.

Touya was a dog, rabid and wild and eager to bite the hands that fed him.


The tears pushed outward without his permission. Touya felt them disgustingly wet as they stuck to his lashes and pooled in the corner of his eyes. He clutched his side tightly, pressing hard onto the aching bruise forming under his shirt. It was a piercing sting, nothing like the pain of blunt force trauma or an abrasion or a cut. No, this was burning. This was the constant agonizing reminder of his body's weakness. It was proof of how he was cinder to a flame brighter than life.

Touya sucked in air through gritted teeth, grinding his molars until he thought they might crack. The sensation was fleeting like a droplet of water hitting flames, sizzling into nothingness.

"Get up," his father growled. The deep baritone of his voice needn't be loud to lash out. As always, it struck true, resonating in the marrow of Touya's bones. His heart thundered in his chest, even faster now, a bird's wings beating to escape the hard grip chaining it down. Soon, they would tire. Soon, his heart would stop.

The sob building in his throat never made it past the barrier of teeth.

Touya slowly removed his hand from his side, then pushed himself up on shaking arms. He didn't make it far, drew up his knees to support the weight of his body. There was no way he could stand, no way he could endure another waft of flame tearing from him.

This pain was an embrace. It was arms squeezing harder each time they engulfed him. Maybe they intended to keep him from bursting. The fire was battling to rip through him and outside of the confines of his body. They were alive deep down, vibrant and chasing a light they couldn't find nor claim.

All Touya could do was bear it until, one day, he would burn.

All Endeavor could do was speed up the process, turning him to ash before Touya could do so himself.

"What a pathetic display," Endeavor growled. "You attempt to strike me, but you are the one hurt by your flames."

Touya heard a voice enshrouded in echo, the roaring of fire drawing to a final crescendo. He tasted death on his tongue sweet like honey. It glued his throat tight until Touya thought he couldn't breathe.

Sweat dripped from his face and made his arms slippery against the wooden floor. He struggled to keep himself from collapsing again.

The lights in the room shifted, indicating that Endeavor had moved. Touya found the strength to lift his head only out of fear. He needed to know where the man was at all times. He needed to know if he was forced to fight for his life now.

But Endeavor had turned, displaying his broad back. He made one heavy, determining step away from Touya. He walked toward the door.

"My efforts are pointless," he said. "You can never surpass All Might. You cannot surpass your own weakness."

The door clicked shut, and Touya was alone.

He didn't process right away what had happened. He stared at the closed door, waiting for it to open again, to reveal Endeavor's form ready to charge, ready to burn.

When Touya realized he was allowed a moment to brace and ready himself, he gathered his remaining energy to push himself into a seated position. His arms were shaking from the strain, and his ankles were pressed uncomfortably against the floor. Touya breathed heavily, taking shuddering breath upon shuddering breath, never letting his gaze slip away from the closed door. He did not relax for he knew that any second he might have to fight.

Endeavor's words didn't make sense to Touya. They were the usual, except they had sounded final this time. He didn't know whether they meant training was over.

As soon as his thoughts veered, the door pushed open. In a panic, Touya summoned flames around his arm and threw them at his father's fiery form.

Endeavor reacted instantly, dispelling flames of his own. They collided mid-air, sending flickers of red and blue across the room. The blue devoured the red but sizzled out right after. There was Touya's answer. In a direct clash of force, he would win. The nasty sting on his arm was but an addendum, a worry for later. Now, Touya sat motionless, his arm extended, as he waited for a response.

Endeavor's eyes were narrowed and sharp, but his stance wasn't suited for battle, and the fire on his face burned calmly. It wasn't erratic like usual. Endeavor would not fight him now.

In his free hand, he held a first-aid kit.

Touya stared at it. He lowered his arm, as did Endeavor.

The skin underneath Touya's eyes burned from the salt of his tears. He hardly noticed when Endeavor walked over and knelt at his side. He procured a bottle of ointment from the first-aid kit, a special kind that did wonders for burns. Touya knew it well. His mother had used to apply it to his burns when she had still endured having to love him.

Touya flinched as Endeavor reached out, but Endeavor grabbed him, undeterred by his son's fear. The fabric that had covered Touya's arm had burned away when his flames had torn from it, exposing only a gnarling wound, red and patchy. Endeavor applied the ointment, yet again ignoring Touya's discomfort, his grip like iron around Touya's wrist.

Every touch was heat and fire, yet cold as ice and chilling to the bone. Touya hated it. He hated it more than the pain, more than his flames.

"You can't use your quirk anymore. You will wear the suppressors at all times."

Touya listened, once again unable to comprehend fully. He nodded, recognizing an order by tone alone. He would wear the cuffs, regardless of his hatred for them. They kept the heat in, but they didn't erase it. Touya knew that even if he wore them for as long as he lived, the fire would still find a way outward. It craved freedom, as though it was an entity of its own.

Once the burn on Touya's arm was covered with ointment, Endeavor pulled up Touya's shirt roughly, exposing the large burn on his side. It stretched from above the waist all the way up over the ribcage, ending only shortly below his armpit. The color was a deep red, almost black in some spots where there wasn't much flesh beneath the skin. Touya looked at the wound in disbelief. It had never been this bad.

Endeavor seemed taken aback as well.

"I will not train you anymore. You cannot become a hero. This-" he tightened his grip on Touya's shirt, tugging on it-"is proof of your failure."

Shame pooled in Touya's gut, thick and heavy like lead.

"Do you understand?"

Touya nodded. He watched his father's hands, strong and so unlike his mother's as they secured gauze around his damaged side. The gauze stuck to him because of the ointment, covering him like a second skin. Bandages were applied on top, his father sure in every movement. The beard of flame had vanished from his face, revealing the man underneath. It was a man Touya had loved once. In moments like these, where his hands were warm but not burning, hard and calloused but kind, Touya knew that he loved him still. If he didn't, disappointing him wouldn't hurt so much.

The shaking never quite stopped, but it eased into a slight tremor. Exhaustion settled into Touya's bones. His tears dried, making his face itchy. Touya wanted to sleep and not wake up again. But he couldn't, not so long as his father was here. In his presence, Touya couldn't relax his muscles.

And yet, right then, he saw a glimpse of what he wanted more than anything. In front of him wasn't Endeavor anymore but his father. They were two very different people in the way they treated others. Touya remembered kindness not unlike this. It had been years since 'Endeavor' had left last. Not since Touya had developed his quirk.

"I'm sorry," Touya said to his father, feeling tears form once more. "I'm sorry."

But father did not speak, and Touya did not see him through the veil of wetness before his eyes.

Touya wanted to hate him. He wanted to hate him more than himself.

The disgust was palpable, thick and heavy in the air. Touya decided then that it didn't much matter who he hated more. The way he was now, he couldn't act on it nor could he force change. What he felt or wanted held no importance. Just like hope, desire burned more than it healed.

His father secured the last of the bandages before removing his grip and standing up again. The flames returned to his face, and father morphed into Endeavor once more. The moment was gone. Touya could not contain a sob this time.

He would never forget the way Endeavor looked at him then, as though he was little more than a pebble on the road, pressed into the pavement by the weight of his feet.

Touya did not move when Endeavor bent over to pick him up. He did not struggle as firm hands held him on his legs and back, pressing his uninjured side against a hard plate of chest muscle.

Had the situation been different, he may have thought this a twisted embrace. As it were, Touya felt distance between them greater than ever before. Affection wasn't earned. It wasn't a reward. No, it was a consequence of pity. It was punishment for he was too weak-too broken-to even walk.

It passed like a blur. Before he knew, Touya found himself seated on his bed, alone in his room. Without thinking, he reached for the quirk suppressor bracelets on his nightstand and secured them around his wrists. They weren't connected to one another, allowing a freedom he did not feel.

He lay down on the mattress and curled into a ball, uncaring of the pain coursing through his body.

His tears flowed freely then, burning against the tender skin under his eyes. He wept silently, for any sound would be too much.

He didn't know how long he lay there. He hoped that the door would open again. He yearned for a mother who had rediscovered her love for him, who once again would tend to his wounds and thread long fingers through his hair. He yearned for a father who would bandage his wounds and extinguish his flames for him.

But they never came. Hope was a poison worse than reality.

Father had discarded him. There was nothing left.


Touya didn't leave his room for days after the incident in the training room. His mother would bring him food and pain killers, not looking at him as she placed them on his work desk. Touya didn't look at her either, fully aware that his gaze caused her discomfort. Once, she asked how he was feeling, but Touya had found no words to describe the agony, the apathy he experienced. How could he convey a hollowness so deep it could only be filled by fire and pain?

He hardly touched the food, hardly moved at all. He did take the painkillers.

He lay in bed and slept for most of the day, sleepy and restless all at once. He woke at the crack of dawn, unable to break with the habit he had fostered ever since his quirk had awakened, but instead of getting ready for the day, he stared at the ceiling or out the window, his mind a thick fog of swirling thoughts. They rushed too fast to follow sometimes, so he let them wash over him, the good and the bad, until he was ready to sleep again.

The pain in his side was bad enough to wake him sometimes, despite the painkillers. He learned to ignore it, reminding himself that it would be far from the worst burn he'd ever experience.

He didn't want to get up. He didn't know what to do. There was unfinished homework on his desk and materials to study. His tutor would quiz him the next time he came around, but Touya couldn't find he cared. Father had already given up on him, so why bother with anything?

Touya was like his siblings now. Endeavor wouldn't care what he did so long as he didn't bring any more shame on the family.

Touya couldn't bother to tend to his wounds. The bottle of ointment, a bright white, remained untouched on his bedside table. He often stared at it, remembering how his father had applied it to his skin, how it had felt to experience kindness from those hands.

Days turned into weeks, and slowly, Touya's wounds began to heal. There was no helping the scars this time, a permanent reminder of the day that Touya had lost purpose.

The scar on his side had retained its deep red, almost morphing into purple. Touya stared at it in the mirror, wondering where it had all gone wrong. What could he have done differently? How could he prevent the flames from eating him alive?

A month after sustaining his injuries, Touya decided to die.

When he finally left his room, it was through the window, a backpack strapped to his shoulders.

His quirk suppressors lay discarded, charred black as a manifestation of his will; a final message to those who had once loved him in some capacity. Mostly, it was an apology to his sister, who Touya loved in spite of everything.

There was no way but forward. This was his road to salvation.