Hui, what? Another early update? Yeah... What can I say, I had a few very productive days in the last weeks of the old year and I really want to get into the next part of the story. I really want to get into the whole therapy part, which I mentioned would be quite a few chapters.. so last chapter we pretty much concluded the whole ... 'Civilian Enji' part and now we're gonna go into a another recovery arc. Let'S call it 'Rebirth Arc'... which will then lead to the hopefully last part of this story.
However, before I can start the whole healing process... there is one mor chapter, we hav to get through. There's still a part of the backstory, that I only ever hinted at.
Hope you like it. I even decided to use a flashback for now!


Mom

"Us Todoroki, we're a lively bunch. We have a temper, so we need to learn how to control it."

When he was a child, he'd taken his mother's words as her innocent little excuses for the innocent little outbursts that she tended to have. Sometimes, things she held would randomly go up in flames. Paper, or maybe a pencil. Things that burned easily. And then she would say it: "It's our temper. It happens to the best of us."

Who 'us' was, he didn't know. He hadn't met his grandparents, and she'd never spoken of any siblings – which didn't mean she didn't have them. Who knew? He had a brother he'd always known about, but he only met him when he was twelve.

After these outbreaks, she would always take a nap, and sleep the rest of the day off. It was one of her weird little mannerisms. He didn't mind much. Enji loved his mother dearly, even when she accidentally burned a park bench and the police arrested her, thinking she was trying – and pathetically failing – to attack… well, a park bench presumably. He had been four. It was one of his earliest memories, sitting in the police department for two hours until she explained the incident. Her temper. Afterwards, she laughed it off and it was a story she'd tell him so often that years later, he didn't know if he actually remembered it, or if he was just told about it often enough.

Did it matter, whether that was a real memory or not? He remembered sitting there. He remembered that stupid officer trying to tell him how arson in a park was bad. He remembered them laughing at her story, and her being required to tell it four or five times, until they could finally go home. He didn't know if these memories were completely real and accurate… but it was what he remembered. He also remembered that only a few weeks later, his quirk had manifested, and he had worried if he would set a park bench on fire – would he be a villain then?

A ridiculous little brat with ridiculous little ideas. Getting his quirk wasn't necessarily a nice experience. Most children – him included – couldn't wait to develop their quirk if they had one – which, in the time of his youth, hadn't been quite that common yet. And his quirk was powerful, so that was great. But he also started understanding his mother better.

Her talk about temper and having to control it wasn't just some innocent excuse. It was because of their quirks. The first time he'd lost control over his anger, he set the boys' locker rooms in his elementary school on fire. That was worse than burning down a park bench, but they didn't arrest him for it.

And when his mother took naps after using her quirk, it wasn't just because she was tired or because she liked to take half a day off; it was because of the overheating. For Enji, it took years getting used to it. The constant burning in his skull, the way his insides curdled and twisted from the heat, the way blood would rush in his ears. It felt like having a bad fever and sunburn and migraine and rapid heartbeat all at once.

There were no Basic Quirk Education classes back then, not in the way they existed now, but kids were still supposed to learn to control their quirks. Quirks weren't supposed to make problems or hurt the user or – gods forbid – get out of control. Those that did were problematic. And his was problematic.

Well, at least it wasn't a mutation quirk. Powerful quirks like Enji's created jealousy. Most kids wanted his quirk. Yet, nobody wanted to risk being caught up in an uncontrolled outburst.

The bastard child with a crazy powerful quirk, weak and vomiting on the floor after just a few uses. Pathetic, still unable to control it. His mother was not much better; they would say. Weak and unhinged. Dangerous.

His childhood was a lonely one, though he never saw it as such. He had his mother, after all, and he loved his mother. What did he care for the idiots who mocked her? Her quirk was similar to his, so in a way, they lived through the same mocking, had to deal with the same drawbacks and weaknesses.

Hers was not a fire quirk, but purely heat. She could not create or control flames the way he could, but if her body got hot enough, paper might just burst into flames upon contact. Just like him, it also came with the same, glaring weakness: overheating.

His mother didn't like her quirk. She found it useless, volatile, unpredictable, judged her own physique too frail to handle it. But Enji, she'd thought, Enji could make the difference. "You can be a hero," she told him, "the greatest hero who ever lived. Such an amazing quirk!"

As a child, those words seemed innocent enough. Becoming a hero. To a five-year-old, that sounded like the coolest thing one could possibly be. When he was ten, he learned a different meaning to these words. Because with ten years, he understood a truth that his five-year-old self hadn't grasped yet:

Heroes were pathetic.

"GO!" he screamed at the TV. Enji mimicked a punch with his left fist. In his excitement, a tiny flame flickered along his knuckles, but vanished again harmlessly.

"You like that new first year, huh?" his mom asked, taking a curious peak at the old TV.

It was the UA Sports Festival. Not a big event per se, but gradually gaining popularity. After all, watching the Olympics got stale once medalists weren't decided by training anymore, but by quirk. Few things were more boring than watching a 100-metre dash with superspeed-quirks. Sure, it looked exciting. For like, a quarter of a second. And even then, most of the time, the outcome was predictable. In a straight-forward competition like that, wits weren't needed – the fastest quirk won. Nothing to it. The UA Sports Festival and other events like it, on the other hand, were different. It was a more unpredictable field. The strongest could fight against the smartest, or the fastest against the sturdiest. Last man standing won.

Enji loved it. He'd watch the entire thing, even though this year's event had started a little later than usual. It was already dark outside.

This first year, however…

"No," Enji grumbled, disappointed. "He's an idiot. Why didn't he attack? There was an opening. He's so strong. He could just blast everybody out of the ring, but even I have better technique than him, I bet." He grinned a little. Well, yes, it was an arrogant statement. But then, that first year Yagi was a bumbling fool. The gods had handed the most powerful quirk Enji had ever seen to an idiot who had no battle instinct whatsoever.

"Well he is still young," his mom said, ruffling his hair. She sat a bowl of popcorn in front of him. "And by the way, I know you're lying."

"I'm not lying," he insisted, grabbing a handful of popcorn before cuddling into a wool blanket he didn't need - because he wasn't cold - but wanted because it was comfy.

"I know you better than that. You only get passionate like that for people you root for." She smiled. Bright blue eyes sparkled behind a pair of round glasses. "You like him."

Enji muttered something unintelligible under his breath, and put a handful of popcorn in his mouth to muffle any further sounds. Still, the way he ducked his head, she would know she was right. Enji wasn't good with hiding his emotions. He wasn't a particularly complicated kid – heart on his sleeve and all.

"It's just, he's wasting so many opportunities," he explained with a full mouth.

"First swallow, then speak," Mom laughed.

Enji pouted a little, before chewing and gulping everything down in a matter of seconds. Mom wrinkled her nose a little in disgust at his aggressive eating.

"He could have ended the fight three times already," Enji said.

She hadn't seen half of the fight, but she still put a hand on his head and patted it lovingly. "You'd know, my baby hero."

"Stop it!" he demanded, wiping her hand away and trying to right his hair that she had already disheveled beyond repair. "Now I look stupid!"

"Nobody's here to see," his mom laughed, turning back to the TV. "Did you think that he maybe just doesn't want to hurt his classmate?"

Enji looked at her with big eyes, before his view narrowed. "No, that would be disrespectful. His opponent's putting in their all. Look."

She weighed her head left and right, but ultimately nodded. "Yes, you're right. That wouldn't be fair to them. Well, he's still just a first year. I bet he'll learn how to fight soon enough."

"When he does, I'll challenge him. And then I'll beat him up!" Enji declared proudly, smiling over his face.

His mom snickered. "Do you think you'll get a handle on your vomiting by then?"

Enji blushed hot red at the comment. "Mom!" he cried out. "I thought you're on my side!"

"Of course I am, darling," she cooed, before leaning over to kiss him on the temple. "I'll be back in a minute. Do you want tea?"

Enji made a sound of disgust before rubbing his temple, wiping away the miniscule bits of saliva he felt cooling his skin. "Yeah. Thanks, Mom!" He called back into the kitchen after her.

The apartment was tiny. They didn't have much, even though Mom worked two jobs. Neither of her jobs earned her much money, but thankfully rent in Nasadaa was cheap. Just one bedroom they both slept in, and a small living room with the table, TV and couch taking up most of the space. There was a tiny kitchen and bathroom where Enji would bump his elbows and knees every time he turned around, the bigger he grew.

And Enji was tall for his age. He had to assume his physical statue came from his father. He never met him, but it clearly didn't come from his mom's side. She was a slight and slender woman, while Enji had already grown past 4'7'' at ten with the lanky, clumsy limbs of a too-fast-growing pre-teen.

Despite – or maybe because of the small size, the apartment was comfortably decorated. There was an orchid on the windowsill of the living room, as well as pictures up on a dresser and some expressionist painting that Enji didn't get over the small living room table. On the table itself, there were a few brochures.

Mom was looking for a new place to live, he knew. That was what all the prospectuses were about. She said he'd grown too big now, and when he went to middle school, he should have his own room, so he could have his own place to study. Enji didn't really think so. For one, middle school was still over a year away, and secondly, she was working most of the time, so he could spread his homework and books all across the apartment without bothering or being bothered by anybody. However, she thought it was necessary, and he wasn't going to complain about getting his own room.

Enji watched Yagi finally land the finishing blow. He had hit the opponent square in the jaw. Enji winced at that. It looked like the other boy might have lost a few teeth. Hopefully, he hadn't broken his jaw. Testily, Enji moved his own jaw in sympathy. That would suck. With a broken jaw, how did eating even work? Or talking?

"He won," Enji called into the kitchen, "Got him in the jaw. I think the other guy's KO'd."

"KO'd?" His mom's head popped out of the kitchen, looking at the boy on TV in worry. "I hope the boy's alright. I can't believe they go that far with first years."

Enji rolled his eyes at that. His mom was too soft. She felt bad for every kid with a small nosebleed. Sometimes, he thought, she couldn't even see blood. But that wasn't it. His mom wasn't squeamish. Just kind.

"Well, they ruined the stage," Enji commented, standing up from the couch and dragging his wool blanket with him. "I need to pee."

He frowned disapprovingly as his mom came back into the living room to sit on the sofa. Of course she would. She had a crush on the teacher who was hosting the event. In the break, he appeared on screen to explain the previous fights and what would follow. He wasn't anything special. "The dark and handsome type," his mom said. Enji just thought he looked bookish and boring.

"Mom," he whined. "You don't even know if he's single."

"And I don't plan to date him. You get your fights. And I get to enjoy watching CrissCross."

"CrissCross," he mumbled in a mocking tone. "What kind of stupid hero name is that anyway?"

Mom waved him off dismissively. "You just try not to pee on my blanket, darling."

He blushed furiously, as she said that. Begrudgingly he turned for the bathroom. "When I'm a hero, I'll choose a better hero name."

When he came back his hands were still wet with water. He wiped them on his trousers. "Did the next fight already start?"

"It's about to. Hop, hurry up, or you'll miss it."

Enji leaped on the couch, sprawling all the way across and putting his feet in her lap. "That one will probably be over soon. The guy's one of the recommended students, and a fan favorite. Never heard of the girl, but she almost failed round two."

"Give her a chance, at least," Mom admonished. "You don't even know their quirks yet. Just because somebody—"

But in that moment, her voice was promptly cut off by a deafening boom. The picture on the TV flickered, and then died together with the lights in the room. Even the quietly buzzing noises from the fridge stopped at once.

"Oh, what now?" Mom muttered annoyed. "Give me some light here."

"Guess that explosion just now caused a blackout," Enji commented, igniting a small flame in his hand. In the dim light, he watched his mom make her way to the dresser where she pulled two flashlights out of a drawer.

She threw one at Enji, but he didn't catch it. It landed softly on one of the cushions on the couch. "What was that?"

"A villain attack, I guess," Enji shrugged, grabbing the remote and uselessly clapping it against his palm. "What else?"

None of them were particularly panicked. They lived in Nasadaa, the most crime-riddled part of the city. Attacks happened all the time. Whenever it happened, people would just keep their heads low and wait for it to pass. It was probably a robbery gone wrong. Or a drug deal. Maybe an actual fight with a hero. On any other day, Enji might have thought it was exciting. Now, however, he was mostly annoyed. Did it need to happen during the Sports Festival of all times?

"If it doesn't work, I'll go to bed," Mom said. "I have work tomorrow."

"Yeah," Enji sounded disappointed. "At least we saw a—"

BANG! The building shook all around them. Now, for the first time worried, Enji jumped up. Mom was at the window first. A red shine came through the glass, flickering grotesque shadows against the wall.

"That sounded close," Mom said. Fear was laced in her voice, but there was no panic yet. Just a healthy bit of wariness.

"Just great," Enji muttered, as he saw two cars on the street right in front of their house on fire.

"Where's the villain? Can you see them?"

"I don't see anything."

They heard doors close by bang shut. People were leaving their apartments, Enji realized. The villain couldn't be… Right? They wouldn't be in their house!?

He was running for the door, but before he could reach it, his mom's hand closed around his wrist like a vice. "You stay here!" she commanded.

"Mom, I can—"

"You stay!" she repeated, in a more forceful voice. Then, she pushed past him through the door.

And he stayed.

He stayed for exactly four minutes and 23 seconds. He watched the time pass on his watch, frantic, waiting for his mom to return.

Then he heard her scream.

No command she had given him could have stopped him from running after her. He ripped the door open, and leaped outside. In the corridor, he hesitated for a second, not knowing where his mom had gone. There was a second scream. He jumped down the stairs, three at a time. He didn't even realize that he left fiery footsteps and burning carpet in his wake.

"Let go of me!" He could make out Mom's words, just as the front door banged shut.

Enji stumbled after her, out the door and into the cool spring night.

"I'm looking for a man called Tycho!" a voice called out, just as Enji stepped onto the street. "Tycho! You hear me, come out, or I'll start killing your neighbors!" He stood on the other side of the burning cars. Just one man. Dark hair, dark eyes, skin pale in the night. Enji saw a scar in the light of the fire. An unshapely thing, crossing over his cheek. He was dragging Mom around by her hair.

There was a blood curdling scream from his mom, and the villain gasped. "Ouch! You bitch!" He let go of her hair, kicking her in retaliation, before cradling his hand. "Some heat quirk, huh?" The villain looked down at where burn marks were already showing on his skin. "I'll show you!"

Silvery-green scales formed over his hand where he had been burned, and long claws grew out of his fingertips. He was about to—!

"STOP!" Enji screamed, stumbling forward towards where his mom had landed on the pavement.

Mom looked at him in shock. She wasn't expecting to see him. She was… afraid to see him? Did she expect him to just sit around? No, he would protect her!

"Enji! I told you to stay inside!" She yelled at him, fear tainting her voice into an ugly pitch.

"That your brat?" the villain laughed, staring at him with wild, black eyes, glinting in the darkness. "Got your same hair!" His laugh was deep. It rattled and reverberated in Enji's brain like something deadly and dangerous. This guy was the real deal. Not some petty thief, opportunist drug dealer, or desperate robber.

"Tycho!" the man yelled out, for the same guy he had called earlier. "Want me to start killing the kid?" He stared at the dark house. The blackout had turned all the lights off. "Maybe you don't care about them, huh? Then I'll just make my way through your neighbors until I find somebody you do care for!"

Enji was afraid. He knew he had to get out of here. Not without Mom, though. So he ran for her.

He ran as fast as he could, crossed the street, and…

Somehow, the villain was faster than him. He'd just been standing around, screaming threats at the building, and then, suddenly, he was right there, standing between Enji and his mom, kicking Enji in the gut.

The kick was hard. Too much for the ten-year-old to just shrug off. He was pushed back, stumbled, and hit his head against the pavement. His ribs were still aching when he crawled back up. Again, the villain smashed a pointy leather boot into his ribs, and the force of the impact lifted Enji off the ground.

He heaved, laying stunned on his side. How was the villain so strong?

"STOP IT!" Mom screamed. He heard the fight, but couldn't see what she was doing until he turned back around. Mom had jumped him from behind. Bravely, she had wrapped her arms and legs around the man. The way her blue eyes glowed in the dark, he knew she was using her quirk.

Not just accidental, not just a little bit. She was heating up!

She would overheat! he thought, panicking.

"That's quite hot, darling," the villain crooned in a disgustingly lewd way, as if he found his new position enjoyable. "But it's getting a little uncomfortable."

Enji saw Mom's eyes widen in surprise, as he realized it himself. The scales… The villain's lizard-like scales now covered most of his body. Even as his clothes caught fire and burnt off his back, his scales offered protection against the heat. He reached behind his shoulder, grabbing Mom with one clawed hand around the neck.

"RUN, Enji!" Mom screamed, just when the villain ripped her away from him. Enji just watched as he punched her in the gut, then smashed her head against one of the burning cars. She was still moving, though. Enji saw her blue eyes turned at him. He knew she'd barely be able to see him without her glasses, but still her eyes were focused solely on him. "Run!" she mouthed. Only a whisper left her.

No… No!

"I guess you don't care about them, Tycho," the villain sounded almost a bit disappointed as his hands closed around Mom's throat. "No reason to drag this out then."

Enji knew there would be no help coming. Whoever this Tycho-guy was, he wouldn't help. Even if it was an alias of one of the people they knew, this wasn't an area where one cared much for their neighbors. Each kept to themselves, and if something troublesome happened, people would keep their heads low and wait until the storm passed.

Only this time, Enji couldn't keep his head low.

"AAAAH!" He screamed like he never had before. A shrill, ear-piercing sound, one he hadn't even known he could produce. His flames surged. Fire burned in his veins, drummed in his ears. The entire street that had been dark until now, lit up in an inferno.

"Oh," he heard the villain's voice, as he let go of Mom and turned towards Enji with big eyes.

For a moment… for just a second, Enji was a stupid, naïve, 10-year-old kid who had no idea of battle. For just a moment, he thought that little sound the villain was making was of regret: the realization that he had done something horrible, that he had gone too far, awoken a beast he couldn't handle.

Then, that hope disappeared into nothing, and was no more than ash and a dying scream on his tongue. The villain was fast, and upon him before Enji even realized he had moved. A crushing fist smashed into his face, and broke his nose. His head snapped back, but before he could fall to the ground, the villain caught his wrist, pulled him back, and kneed him in the stomach with the punishing force of a full-grown-adult.

Enji vomited the moment the knee connected. He didn't even know if it was the force of the attack or the side-effect of his overheating kicking in.

"Pathetic," the villain laughed. "You think you have some strong quirk, so you can save people? You're just a weak little child." He grinned maniacally. "Bet your mom only came out to see what was going on, cause she had to protect your sorry ass. To make sure her baby boy's safe." He pressed Enji's face down into his thigh, where Enji had vomited his dinner and half-digested popcorn.

Enji was still stunned from the attack. His head was droning painfully, and he hadn't even quite caught up with the fact that his quirk had shut down the second the first punch had hit his face.

"Pathetic," the villain said again, letting Enji slump to the ground before turning around. "I'll take care of her first," he muttered to himself, but as he was about to leave, Enji grabbed him around the ankle.

It would be pointless. The villain was so much stronger. Either he'd just stomp his head in, or he might even drag him along, not bothered by the lightweight hanging on his shoelaces.

"You're getting on my nerves, brat," the villain huffed, ripping his foot free. Enji saw him raise his boot, when…

"But it is admirable, don't you think?" the voice was deep and confident, and… new. Had somebody come to help them?

Before Enji's thoughts caught up to the fact, the villain was flying away from him and Mom, crashing against the opposite wall. Confused, Enji looked around himself. A cape. A bright, orange cape and black boots where all he could see of the hero costume.

"Take care of your mother, boy," the hero said in that same, confident and calming voice, as he stepped over Enji towards the villain. "I'll take care of the rest."

"You think you can?" the villain jumped up from where he had fallen after the initial attack, bracing against the wall. "The hero finally shows up! Don't get so full of yourself!" Enji – his mind still reeling from the attack he had taken – watched in horror,as the villain ripped the burnt remains of the coat off his body, revealing his naked torso. Scales were rapidly covering his entire body. Claws and fangs formed.

"How hard did you try, taking down a child?" the hero called back in an almost mocking tone. "People like you are the worst."

Enji finally remembered how to move his body. Groggily, he stood up. He was nauseous, his head hurt, he felt sick. After the first two steps, he stumbled and fell on all fours, before crawling the short distance to his mother.

"Mom," he cried. "Mom, I'm sorry!"

She blinked up at him, a fierce smile on her lips. "What are you apologizing for?" Her hand was shaking as she lifted it to his cheek. "You fought admirably, my little hero."

He shook his head. No, he didn't. He'd lost in one hit. He hadn't done anything. All he did was make it even more difficult for Mom. For all his talk, he was pathetic. The villain was right!

"Darling, I need you to go and get yourself to safety," Mom pleaded with him, looking right into his eyes.

He shook his head. "We go together," he declared. Enji tried helping her up, but her injuries or overheating must've been bad – because as he moved her, her whole body shook. She was dry-heaving, crumbling back down immediately.

"Please," she cried, pushing him away, weakly.

"Don't worry," Enji said, trying to appease her. "We'll be fine, the heroes are here." He was crying, he realized, wiping his tears angrily. What was he doing, crying like a baby? The hero was here. They'd be fine, and Mom needed him to be strong.

Laughter… Loud and truly ecstatic laughter was the first sign that something was going horribly wrong. It wasn't even the same maniacally evil laugh from before. This one was honest. Triumphant.

The gurgling sound of a crushed windpipe was the next worst thing Enji heard in that moment.

As he turned around, he saw the villain standing there victoriously, his clawed hand locked tightly against the hero's throat. The hero was half unconscious, blinking weakly, fingers uselessly fumbling around the punishing hand on his neck. How was it over so fast? It was barely even a fight! Hadn't the hero come to save them?

"You come here, throwing around your weight," the villain mocked the hero in his grasp. "You're a hero, you're going to protect the kid, yeah? What type of hero are you? All weak and pathetic! I could wipe the floor with the whole lot of you! Who are you going to protect, huh? Tell me again." He waited, but the hero couldn't speak anymore. Just the sound of a horrible, sickening gurgle. "Yeah, right. Nobody! Cause weak people can't protect anybody." He didn't let go, dragging the hero as he marched towards Enji and his mom.

No!

"Flaunting around with your capes and names and bravado. Heroes, pathetic! You know, why you've lost this fight? You and your lot? Cause capes and names and smiles don't fucking matter! This world is ruled by the strong. You're weak, the brat's weak, and the bitch is weak, too. You all thought you could fight me, do something about me. But you're weak, and weak people always lose."

And then, he snapped the hero's neck. Right there, right in front of Enji.

Enji backed away, crawling backwards on all fours until he bumped against his mom. She was still behind him! He still had to—

"Enji, get behind me!"

"What?" his voice was afraid, quivering.

"Get behind me!" Hers was not. Hers was self-assured and confident. Like she knew what she had to do.

Still, Enji hesitated. He couldn't let that monster kill his mom.

But what can you do? Nothing! Pathetic brat. Just a kid who wants to be a hero.

"NOW!"

And he followed, scrambling behind her.

Mom pulled herself upright, and slammed her palms against the street in front of her. The villain watched her, confused. Then…

The air was glimmering around her, like it was burning, but there was no fire. Enji backed away as the heat got uncomfortable, but what he felt were just the heat waves reflecting off the pavement. Her attack was focused in the direction of the villain.

Enji didn't know Mom could do that. The air was glowing! Her back turned red and hot, her clothes burned off her body, and even his shirt was singed. The pavement cracked. Melted.

And the villain was backing away.

"You said it was getting uncomfortable," Mom hissed at him. "Earlier, when I first got you. You let it slip. You're not immune against heat, you just have a protective layer of scales." The villain backed further away. Enji, too, tried to shield his face against the heat. It was getting too hot. "I figured it out, didn't I? Even a water bottle made of metal is still just a bottle of water. And water boils at the right temperature, no matter how hard the shell."

Stop…! Enji thought, panicking because he knew how she knew that. Because it was the same for her. She was overheating. She was overheating so badly. There would be no turning back! Even just using her quirk in a minor way would leave her bed-ridden for the rest of the day.

Please! Stop!

But she didn't. She didn't, because of him. He knew that, too. She didn't fight to defeat the villain just to keep him away.

And he did keep away. The villain gave them one last angry sneer, before running as he heard the first sirens promising the arrival of more heroes. His mom crumbled the moment he was out of sight. When the paramedics arrived, she was scorching. They had to keep blasting her with cold water that would immediately boil on her skin for fifteen minutes before they could even start treating her.

Miraculously, Mom survived. But not for long. She had bust her inner organs. Modern medicine kept her alive for only a few more years. At times, it even seemed as if her condition might improve, as if she could start a normal life again. At times, she seemed to be close to a life-saving organ transplant. But ultimately, just before he entered UA, she died.

That day, Enji Todoroki understood two truths:

The first was one his mother had been trying to tell him all this time. It wasn't that he had the potential to be a hero. No, what she wanted to tell him, he now understood, was that in a world like this, with a quirk like his, and anger-management-issues, one either became a hero or a villain. There was no in-between. A quirk like Hellfire – and the person who carried that quirk – would not be suited for an office job. Not in a world that was so festered with heroes and villains and vigilantes, with attacks imminent in every moment of every day.

The second truth, the one he understood all on his own, was that as a hero or as a villain – whichever he chose – being weak, being pathetic, was the worst thing one could possibly be. It led to failure and disappointment and death.


Huiuiui...
I have to be honest, before I wrote this I hadn't intended for it to be quite that ... brutal and traumatizing...
I mentioned several times before, that I didn't want to give Enji a super awful past that could be used to somehow excuse all his actions by just pointing at lingering trauma... however, I guess when I said that, I hadn't realized yet, how brutal my plans for him were... I only realized that, when I actually wrote it. So I still think you of course can't excuse anything he did, with his past, but I also now have to acknowledge, that despite my strong belief, that I didn't want to give him an overly traumatic past... I asolutely did.

Anyway, a few of you asked me how Enji got so obsessed with power and with being the strongest. So this is the response to that, in a way. With this flashback, I wanted to both explain where his overwhelming obsession to be the strongest comes from, and also shine a light on just...the severe consequenes of overheating. Of course, it'S just all my imagination, and just like with the first part of his past that I revealed in 'A Day and A Life', I don't think any of this is canon at all, but I really liked the idea of him having somebody he cared for, die of the consequences of overheating. Whenever I bring up his past I feel a need to mention that of course this is not canon, because whatever I say now only applies to my version of Enji, and of course not to canon Enji... That's opposed to many other times, when I'm trying to write him as close to canon as I can. In that case the line between My fanonEnji and canonEnji can be quite blurry. Here there is no blurriness: This is all just my fanonEnji.

I planned this event early on, because I really think it neatly explains his obsession with trying to elimint this weakness beyond just 'wanting to be strong'. So in this sense, Enji wouldn't just stop Touya's training because he's got a weakness that would never allow him to reach the heighs, Enji has imagined for him - but even more so because Enji knows how fatal it can be. I don't think he's quite aware of it himself, how much overheating effects his life beyond just 'being the reason he can't catch up to all might'. So there's part of him that chose Rei because he really wanted a child with a strong quirk - but a different part also just didn't want his child to deal with the same consequences.

As for his obsession to be the strongest, I actually that realistically it doesn't need much explanation. He's a hero, he'S repeatedly and constantly risking his life. To do that when you're not the strongest person in the country, is quite frightening. So beyond just pride and ambition, every hero should strive to be the strongest, to make sure, that you won't die on the job. Now,that doesn't mean it's healthy. Enji's obsession with power might have originiated from seeing a hero fail and realizing that the only way for him to avoid ever failing like that would be if he were the strongest (at least stronger than all villains). However, later on this need for power was perverted - in a way - to a need to be the strongest among HEROES (even though heroes are not the people he'd have to fight). I think this was a gradual process over time. But you can basically take it as:

"To be a hero I need to be able to win. If I fight a villain who's stronger than me, I will fail. So to avoid failing I have to be stronger than all villains. To make certain that there is no villain stronger than me, there can't be ANYBODY stronger than me. But if there is somebody stronger than me that means I'm a failure. And if I'm failure, I can't be a hero."

For most good heroes I think (disregarding those who are 'ok with standing behind All Might'), the concept of 'Be the best hero you can possibly be' is what pushes them to try harder. If you wanna be a hero, be the best you can be. And that is what it means to be a good hero.
For Enji, being a good hero doesn't mean being 'the best you can possibly be' but rather just 'being the best'. Because that's the only way to make sure that you can actually do your job. As a hero if you come on a scene, people expect you to solve the problem: to fight the villain, to save the people etc. If you can't do that, in his mind you failed as a hero. Most heroes learn to retreat or try to play for time and wait for reinforcements - but for him that would all just be excuses, while still failing at doing the job. Ultimately, if a hero can't solve the issue, but has to wait for another hero to do it for them... that'S not being a hero. And I think it makes sense, if that belief comes from witnessing a hero fail. In his mind the hero who came to safe him and failed, can't be a hero, because if he were a hero he would've succeeded.

(To tie back to canon, if that last part was true for canon Enji too, that would explain why his agency is the only angecy that does everything.)