A/N: This story is going to have a lot of trigger warnings but I will always label them in the A/N at the beginning of the chapter. I want to thank everyone for the amazing support on my other story and cannot wait to see what this one brings.

Trigger warnings: Physical mental and child abuse, mentions of anxiety and depression, self harm, vomiting (for emetophobic people Xx), and possible links to eating disorders. There is also swearing.

This story is going to pull hard on your heart strings. Xx

My father has always been like this, for as long as I can remember really.

"Get down and do 50 pushups you filthy pile of shit!"

You would think he would get bored of calling me that every day.

"You think you can beat All Might like that? You look like a fucking stick!"

The thing is I don't want to beat All Might, I never have, that's what my father wants if I can even call him that. I am nothing but a possession to him, his possession, like a prized limited edition vintage car. You might think that that isn't so bad of a thing to begin with, but I am literally treated like an object, something to work on and improve. I am something to throw across a room and into a wall, well that's what he thinks, and I'm starting to believe him. I am his personal punching bag, and when I dare to try and stop him or ask why his excuse is always the same, that I need to be stronger than All Might because that was what I was made for.

48

49

50…

I stand up and wait for his next order.

I am worthless to him as a person, I am just a pawn on a chessboard. He couldn't care less about my mental health, 'depression is for weaklings' and 'anxiety is for cowards', that's what he says. I don't need to be a genius to see what is going to come next. I watch as he walks up to me and raises his fists. This happens every day like clockwork once my training sessions are over, and why shouldn't he hit me? At least Fuyumi and Natsuo won't get hurt, he never hits them. I deserve the pain. I am useless, nobody wants me, they only want my quirk. The fists rain down on me, I just stand there motionless, but that only makes him hit me more. The punches fall everywhere, first to my stomach, and then there are kicks to my legs, and then more punches to my torso, shoulders, and eventually my face. He won't normally hit my face because the bruises are harder to hide, but he seems extra pissed today. I can't count the amount of times he hits me. A punch to the stomach takes me by surprise, the pain echoing through my body. The force of the punch forces my stomach to empty its contents, I retch until I'm coughing. The smell of my vomit lingers strongly in the air as I fall to my knees, the wind knocked out of me. He decides to see it as weakness and continues to kick me in the ribs before walking off. I suppose I better clean all of this up before I get screamed at again.

I stand up slowly as to not increase any of the possible damage and grab a mop. I start to clean up my own vomit, blood and sweat from the floor and put everything away once I finish. Making my way up to my room I climb up the 2 sets of stairs and walk through my room to the bathroom attached to it. I strip down and examine my wounds, purple bruises are already blooming across my face and down my torso and ribs to my legs. I have a mild 1st degree burn on my arm, my nose is bleeding, thankfully not broken though, and an angry gash curves its way through my left cheek. I stop my nose from bleeding and I clean the cut on my cheek and put butterfly stitches in the gash. I then get in the shower quickly and brush my teeth. I guess I might as well try to sleep. I get into bed and hold the covers tightly around my body. Sleep comes slowly.

"Mum! Mum!" I can see her in the distance, I'm running but I can't get to her! Finally! My Mum's hugs always make me feel safe, why did she have to leave? Hang on a minute, what is that that she has in her hand?

Pain…

That is all that I feel next…

"Mother! I can't stand his left side, it reminds me too much of his father!"

What did you mean Mum? Why did you have to hurt me? Am I really that worthless… Do I really deserve the pain…

Shouto wakes up from the dream and sits up. Sweat is dripping from his forehead as his tears start to spill over his cheeks, his body shaking with silent sobs. He stumbles out of his bed and into the bathroom, his hand frantically searching for his instrument of relief. He pulls a razor blade out of one of the draws and drags it across his skin as his emotions take over his mind. The blade draws not 1, not 2, but 4 crimson lines across his skin, joining the lines across his arms from other times, other times that happen way too often.

He slides to the floor, his head in his hands, the razor blade resting on the floor. The sobs kept coming for an hour and a half, uncontrollably wracking his body.

Why am I not good enough… What did I do wrong? Why did you hurt me Mum?

Why…

My tears are slowing down, but are still running down my newly stitched up cheek. My hands are still shaking as I reach for the disinfectant wipes and clean the new cuts. God why do I have to be such a weakling, I have a god damned almost perfect body that I should be grateful for. Any disabled person would envy me, so why do I have to go and damage it? When is this going to stop… It's always the same god damned cycle every night. I either get overwhelmed when I get back from training and then hurt myself, or wake up in the middle of the night from that same dream over and over again and break down, hurting myself then instead. It's always the same, I always regret it. I always say that I won't do it again, I vow to be clean, for at least for 24 hours, but that never happens. It's a vicious cycle that I can't escape from, no matter where I hide the blades I always manage to get to them. If I can't get to the blades I manage to find something sharp or, if my emotions get too far, I end up clawing at my skin like an animal trying to inflict any kind of pain. But then, maybe one day, I might actually go too far and accidentally cut too deep. That would be a blessing. I would be better off dead.

When I break down it is like my mind isn't mine, like I've been possessed. I can't control what I do. It hits me like a truck, there is no way of stopping it. I bet if any one else was in my place, they wouldn't be in this state right now. I'm weak and pathetic. My Mum had every right to burn my face, in fact she probably did everyone a favour by doing so. Who wouldn't want to burn my face?

I'm not the one that is needed, my quirk is. I got into U.A. on recommendations alone, they didn't even need to see me in action because I am the No.2's son. School starts in 3 weeks… I better pick my act up by then or I will be looked down on like a piece of dog shit on someone's shoe.

I reach and pick up the blade. It is amazing how something so small could do so much harm, mentally and physically. I clean it off before slipping it back into the draw and lock it in this time. I get up and take the key with me. I throw it deep under my bed.

There is no way that I am going to be able to sleep again so I just lie there, my eyes staring at the ceiling blankly.

What even is love? And how can the 3 types be so different… I've never really had a family who loved me, my Mum did before she was taken away, but she has probably forgotten about me by now. I have no way of knowing the love from friendship, or romantic love. I have never been to school, I was home-schooled since I was little and my dad very rarely even lets me leave the house. The only times that he makes an exception is when I have to go and buy shopping or I have to go for a run. In fact it's supposed to be my turn to go shopping today, I'll have to get the shopping list from Fuyumi.

I lie there as the hours tick away until my alarm clock goes off. The red digits say 5:30, it is so early that the sun hasn't even started to rise yet but I need to get up at this time to do my morning training. My dad sets off for his patrol at 5 in the morning and gets back at about 4 pm, by then he expects me to have done my morning training, my share of cleaning the house or depending on the day, shopping, showered, eaten the exact things that he says and no more and have gone out for my afternoon run. Once he gets back he expects Fuyumi to have dinner made by 5 pm whilst he sorts out his filing and then at 6:30 he drags me down to the 'training room' which is a whole floor in itself. Half of the floor is set out as a gym and the other half is a quirk proof environment. He then proceeds to force me to train for 2 hours straight non stop. The training consists of 20 min on the treadmill as a warm up, then 40 min of weight/muscle training. He then proceeds to try and teach me combat training for half an hour before making me focus on my quirk for the last 30 min.

If I refuse to do any of this then I get a beating, usually a kick or 2 to my stomach or legs. If I am lucky the old man decides against beating me some nights, usually because he has had a good day at work. But I almost always get a beating anyway because I refuse to use my fire side. I refuse to use it because that just shows that I have given in to him and I won't let that happen. After my training he likes to beat me for another 30-45 minutes, and 'release his anger' as he likes to call it. I then get ordered to take a shower and go straight to bed and be asleep by 9:30 every night so that my 'sleep regime' stays consistent. According to my father, if I do everything as he says I will get fit, be well rested, start growing muscle instead of fat and be able to harness my quirk. But that is only if I do EVERYTHING he says.

I throw on my working out clothes, or some of them, and some trainers and head down to the training room. I pass Fuyumi on the way there.

"Morning Shouto! I have everything prepared for your breakfast when you finish training. Dad said that you were to have plain oatmeal made with fat free cow's milk and chopped up slices of apple. The apple, milk, and bowl of dry oatmeal are on the side."

I smile gratefully at her before going down the second set of stairs and opening the door. The room is the same as when I left it last night and nothing seems to have changed. It still smells like vomit so I go and open the window, letting some fresh air in. I make my way over to the treadmill and set it at 12mph, starting my warmup. After 20min I go over to the open floor and complete 50 pushups, 75 squats and 100 sit ups before walking over to the bench press where the weights sit. I work my way from 10kg to 20kg. On a night my dad will push me as far as 35kg so I prefer to take it easy in the morning. Once I finish with the weights I do another 10 minutes on the treadmill at 14mph, and then stretch out my body as a cool down. Sweat is pouring down my face and arms, my hair sticking to my forehead as I make my way back to my room to take a quick shower before getting breakfast. By the time I am done, the clock says 8:30 so I grab a couple of shopping bags and hold them under my arm as I look around for the shopping list and money. I find it under the fruit bowl and grab it before slipping my shoes on and walking out of the front door.

The walk to the shop doesn't take long, only about 15min, and when I get there I grab a shopping cart and quickly go about getting what the list says. The cart is about half full and I am walking along with it when I accidently walk past something I need. I jog backwards without the cart to grab it and forget to look where I am going. I feel myself crash into something and before I can make out what is happening I am on the floor rubbing my head.

"Who the fuck just…" I look up and see 2 captivatingly red eyes staring at me in disbelief. He looks to be about my age and close to my height, maybe slightly shorter, with ash blond spiky hair. His expression is hard to read but his eyes give everything away. Emotions are flicking through them like you would flick through a book. Anger, then frustration, surprise, confusion, and finally some strange emotion that I haven't seen before. Anger and frustration because he was bumped into, surprise at the scar on my face and confusion as to how I got it, but the last emotion is a mystery to me. I've never seen it before but it appears to be that emotion that leads him to hold his hand out to help me up.

"I'm so sorry about that! I wasn't looking where I was going." I say, taking his hand. He helps me up with little to no effort and his hands are strong and slightly rough. He grunts slightly before speaking.

"It's fine, just look where you're going next time. Hey, what's with the bruises on your face? Did someone hit you or summat? You look like you got attacked by a gang."

Shit! I forgot to cover my bruises up from last night with makeup!

"Ah, no that's not what happened. I ran into a brick wall by accident." He still doesn't look convinced as he looks me up and down. "Hey aren't you that guy who got attacked by the sludge villain the other day? Your quirk is pretty amazing, you could easily pass the U.A. entrance exam!" Changing the subject seems to work as pride quickly flows through the other guy's face.

"Yeah I am. My quirk turns into glycerine from my body basically into mini explosives. I actually only got the acceptance letter from U.A. the other day as I have already done the exams. It said that I'm going to be in class 1A."

"Oh really? That's the class that I'm in as well. Well, if you're going to be in the same class as me then I suppose I better introduce myself. My name is Shouto Todoroki."

"My name is Katsuki Bakugou. But can I ask you a question? How did you get into U.A.? I didn't see you at the entrance exams."

"Eh, I got in by recommendations. My dad is the No.2 hero Endeavor." The blond boy's mouth drapes open in shock at my statement. The chat has been nice but I really have to get going. I need to finish the shopping and get home to have lunch and then do my run. "I have to get going now, but it was nice talking to you."

"Likewise. But, can I get your number? If we are going to be classmates then it might be a good idea to stay in touch." That UE is back again (Unidentified Emotion), leaving a slight tint to the blonde's cheeks. I guess I don't have a problem with him having my number though, it might benefit me in the future and it will be nice to have someone to talk to.

"Sure." We share our phone numbers and I grab what I need off of the shelf and walk over to my cart. I give him a small wave. "Speak to you later."

"Yeah, see ya." I walk off without a glance backwards.

That guy… It was almost like he could see right through me, right through my lies to be more specific. I don't like it.

I get the rest of my shopping done and pay for it. By the time I get back and put everything away it is 11:30 so I have an early lunch and get ready to go on my run. I spend about an hour out on the run, and when I get back I just towel down the majority of the sweat off my body, deciding to shower later on after my evening training.

I am just sitting on my bed when I feel my phone vibrate in my hand. It's a text from an unknown number.

?: Hey, it's Katsuki from the shop earlier today. Hope you didn't forget me already.

I save the number into my phone under 'Katsuki' before texting back.

Shouto: Hi, no I didn't forget you. How are things?

Katsuki: Same old same old. What about you? Its...Its not like I care about you or anything though.

Shouto: I just got back from a run.

He seems like the type who is afraid to be seen as weak or having a weakness by the looks of things. The small talk went on for a while until we started to realise that we both like a lot of the same things. Music, movies, sports. After a while we started to become good friends. We started talking on the phone whenever we were free. This went on every day for a while and I was the happiest I had been in a while.