The most painful part about leaving is that they'll never come after you.
"If you leave… don't come back."
The words float after him in a whisper, and he almost trips over his own bare feet, but he does not (can not) stop, does not (can not) turn around, and he does not (can not) go back.
If Shouto's honest, he thinks the words themselves aren't all that shocking, because it only really gets to him because it isn't his father spitting the words out at his back.
Rather, it's Fuyumi's voice in an anguished murmur, and he wonders if she's saying such things as a kindness or a cruelty; he wonders if she's angry at him for leaving when his other siblings are trapped there in hell.
The words burn (like red, hot fire) in contrast to the soothing chill he remembers from his sister when she'd bandage him up and hold him as he cried after his father's training sessions.
His bare feet slap the ground as rocks dig into his skin and he pushes himself to keep running because he needs to get away. Because his father's heat is painful suffocation and burning alive and he can't take it anymore.
So he runs, and he runs, and he runs.
And when he can't run anymore, when his muscles are trembling with his weight, and when his throat and lungs feel like he's breathing in shattered glass, he crumbles like loose dirt into the grass by the sidewalk.
Looking around, he recognizes his surroundings as what must be some sort of schoolyard playground (he has been to enough public events where his father speaks about the importance of education and shows Shouto off like some prized trophy and his eyes scream don't embarrass me— ), and he lays there, chest heaving and eyes dry.
'Don't come back,' she'd said.
He wonders if that reality is possible.
Endeavor probably had search teams out for him right now. Even if he cared little about Shouto, he obviously cared about 'surpassing All Might' and used Shouto to live his dreams vicariously.
Honestly, it was surprising the man hadn't gone after him himself, though he was glad because there would be hell to pay (he knew what was coming when he went back) when he was caught for this little stunt.
And he would be, eventually. He knew that.
There was no escape from Endeavor, no one to turn to, and nowhere to run.
This was simply a brief reprieve before he had to go back there.
Due to how secluded Endeavor's house (not home, never home) was, no matter how far Shouto had run, he probably would still be a considerable distance away from the bigger cities. The lack of commotion and light pollution made it easy to get lost in the stars hanging from the sky that burned as fiercely as his father's flames, yet were as freezing as his own ice, crystal clear and ever-so-distant.
Shouto falls asleep there, on the grass.
He is surprised the next day when he wakes up easily to sunlight and the sound of birds chirping, but most importantly, he wakes up alone.
He doesn't know why he hasn't been found.
Perhaps his siblings have stalled for time (perhaps they do not hate him), perhaps even Endeavor could not cover such a thing up through bribes (perhaps not even Endeavor could find him now), perhaps Endeavor never even tried (perhaps he never really mattered after all).
Shouto is lucky it's the weekend and no children are at school, because he stays there all day taking out his emotions on his poor, unsuspecting surroundings.
First, he is overcome with giddiness.
Could he be free?
He never would have imagined that to be possible, had only allowed himself to think it in the darkest of times and the haziest of dreams when even the thought of his mother wasn't enough to keep him going. In those times, he would tell himself that, one day, he would surpass his father, and then he could break the chains that bound him if he only kept going.
He couldn't stop because then he would shatter and never pick himself back up again.
After the sheer joy comes anger.
Did he really matter so little? Everything that man had done to him and his family didn't even matter?! It was a harsh blow that had his small heart pounding in his ears as frost layered the ground despite the sunny weather.
Shouto does not calm down until the sting of hypothermia bites at his right side, through his thin clothes, until the chill settles in his bones and forces his trembling body to its knees.
Then comes the sorrow, the hurt, and the fear.
He was alone, and no one had looked for him. He told himself it was because his siblings had managed to protect him and keep him from his father's reach, that it was a good thing that he had escaped.
But the reality was that Shouto was a small thirteen-year-old, hurt and lost in a world much bigger than him, a world in which he could not fit in.
The world was not kind to those who were different.
He had no place to go — no money, no food, no nothing — and he feared going to the police or authorities. He would surely be recognized, and who would believe him if he claimed the Number Two Hero Endeavor was an abusive bastard? Who was to say they couldn't be bribed into looking the other way even if they trusted his words?
It is only then that the shock of losing everything he's ever had really settles in, leaving him so exhausted that the boy does not even cry.
He kneels there, slumped as he sits on his calves, mind blank and drained.
Years later, Pro-Hero Frostfire will look back and he will remember.
He will remember dark nights and harsh lighting, darting around the corners of shadowed alleyways as he clutched a stolen jacket in his dirty fist.
He will remember sobbing and wishing he'd never left, because surely even flaming fists hurt less than the dull pangs of hunger, the acid burning his throat, and the nausea that made him dizzy.
And most of all, he will remember meeting all sorts of people on the streets and realizing the world was so much more than he'd thought.
It's when he comes across a group of young children huddled together for warmth that he first uses his left side.
Shouto comes across them in the middle of November when the chill seeps through all defenses amidst the night, all the harsher for children who have no warm homes to return to and no fluffy covers to cuddle into. He sees them, and he thinks about his left side, unused for years out of spite, the best form of revenge he could think of under his father's fist.
The world is bigger than him, though, bigger than Endeavor and his cruelty, bigger than his mother and her tragedy, bigger than him and his scars.
He doesn't like comparing people's pain, but living on the streets for a while has opened his eyes. His previous situation was… horrific. There really is no other way to put it.
Living the way he does, though… it's simply a different kind of terrible. The fear is different, the people are different, and the threats are different, but many of the fundamentals remain the same.
Shouto almost walks straight past them — it has been a long time since Shouto has thought about being a hero — when suddenly a cry rises from the group.
"He's not waking up!"
When he looks over, they have gathered around a small, still form — a young boy. He is being held by an older girl, a teenager, and through the panic, she makes eye contact with Shouto for just a moment, and he realizes then that he can help.
He asks himself if he should, and if he would get anything out of it, but in the end, it was never really a question at all.
He walks over to one of the kids kneeling at the outer edge of the circle, tapping her shoulder gently and making sure to keep his posture open when the girl whirls around, clearly ready for a fight.
He crouches down so they're at the same height and says softly, "I think I can help."
Her eyes widen and she glances at him warily, scanning him with dull, golden eyes, clearly trying to figure out if he's a threat and what he could want from their group.
He shakes his head and glances towards the small boy who still hasn't even twitched.
Reluctantly she nods, but there's hope glowing in her brilliant citrine eyes as she calls for the other kids to step aside.
They all watch him the same way she had (the same way he watches them), but let him through, and there is a unique sort of warmth in their little protective bubble that goes further than the lack of temperature in the air.
He makes his way through the group precariously and lifts his left hand, far enough away from anyone to be dangerous, but in clear view for a demonstration.
Shouto closes his eyes and looks for warmth, pushing past the flashes of cruel words, cruel glances, and crueler fists to the last time he had been held in such a manner as they were holding the boy.
His mother, Todoroki Rei, calm, pristine, and beautiful — at least, that's how he chooses to remember her.
It's been a while since he thought about the woman who had cradled him like he was a gift as she tried to shelter him from the wrath of his father. He hasn't thought about her since he'd left, really.
He wonders if she'd be happy for him.
It was strange. For all that he remembered her being cool to the touch, the memories only brought a distant, soothing warmth now, and he opens his eyes to see a gentle flame flickering in his palm. Whispers rise up around him, and he gestures to the motionless boy in a silent question.
With the approval of the girl hugging the boy from behind, he puts out the fire in his hand and lays it on freezing skin, explaining in quiet tones that he can regulate the temperature of his body.
A little while after that, he realized it would probably be much more efficient to simply act as a human fire, so he does and it is. The others surround him in excitement, demonstrating their own quirks and telling him their own stories. Their faces glow in the dim light of his fire, and Shouto has never felt so warm.
Shouto does not stay long after that, but he promises they can come to him for help if they ever need it, and they do the same.
He still wanders the streets, but now he takes the time to help those he sees in the corner of his eye, the ones ignored by the rest of 'proper' society.
He provides them warmth or protection, or he gives them the old blanket he picked up off the street and a snack he nicked from a street vendor, and when he leaves, he leaves a little bit of himself behind.
People start calling him Frostfire as if he were a vigilante (as if he were a hero) because he never gives out his name in case his father may latch onto his trail. He asks them not to spread his appearance or his quirk, so Frostfire becomes his alias as he rushes around at nighttime, providing help to those that don't receive media attention or can't afford hero patrols.
When he's fourteen, the police offer him a position as an informant, and through this, a possibility of rehabilitation.
Someone by the name of Nezu contacts him and offers him a probation trial at U.A. afterward, promising him the chance to be a hero.
Shouto has forgotten about that dream of his. As both himself and as Frostfire, becoming a hero was never really an option.
Still, a year later and now a ward of U.A., he finds himself standing at the gates to Japan's top hero school, and something in his chest squeezes so tight he can't breathe.
He stands there, for a good while, he thinks, until someone bumps into him from behind.
When he turns around, he sees a kid (realistically, his age, but they all seem so young) with dark, green hair and a liberal smattering of freckles. He stands there in silence, a soft breeze blowing his dual-colored hair into his eyes as the boy nervously stammers out apologies in a waterfall of words.
Midoriya Izuku.
Midoriya is… genuine.
That is what Shouto thinks when he meets Midoriya Izuku. The kid is genuine in a way hard to find on the streets when you never stay long enough to learn people. There is also something painfully familiar in his mannerisms (the flinching and the jolting, the protective placing of the hands, the sliver of a shiny scar peeking over the collar of his shirt), and the second thing Shouto thinks about Midoriya Izuku is that he is strong.
He is strong for being where he is and refusing to bow down, and he only confirms this in the Battle Trials, when Bakugou (Shouto doesn't like him, he reminds him of another, much bigger man with hellfire wreathing his wrists, who was not afraid to use his power to step on others, so he avoids him the best he can) toys with the boy's life.
Midoriya clearly chose a different way to deal with his trauma, but he still remains tall when his abuser stands on the field facing him, and Shouto thinks he could definitely respect that.
The villain infiltration at USJ is a special type of terrifying.
Shouto has not always believed in heroes, but there is still something paralyzing about watching someone the world believed was infallible get beaten to a standstill.
Aizawa-sensei has his face caked in blood and he can see the streaks of muscle in his elbow.
It only gets worse when All Might gets captured by that black beast before his best (only) friend launches himself forward with no sense of self-preservation, and he cannot help the shout that rips itself from his chest.
"IZUKU!"
By some stroke of luck, they are all fine in the end.
Mido— Izuku also insists on more familiar names after that, and Shouto hesitantly agrees.
It is a small matter in the grand scheme of things, and if it makes Izuku smile, then so be it.
Shouto is not very social by nature. He tries not to be cold, but sometimes he simply does not know how to act around people — a side effect of spending so long alone.
For some reason though, he can't quite get rid of Midoriya Izuku (for the first time in a long while, he's not sure if he wants to), and by extension, he then becomes friends with Midoriya's friends, who tag along when the boy follows him.
Uraraka Ochako and Iida Tenya.
They are much like Midoriya — they are kind and genuine and they don't know when to quit. They are also bright and loud and, overall, seem to be very fitting to be Midoriya's friends.
They talk at him when Shouto won't talk with them, and they invite him out to places like the new ramen stand and the street fair.
It is all very surreal, but not in a bad way.
It is the best kind of shock, he muses quietly over his drink as he listens to Midoriya mutter frantically about the latest hero debut downtown, and Todoroki-kun, are you really listening to me?
Shouto offers him a slight smile (and is that not even more surreal?) as Uraraka and Iida return with the snacks they'd ordered from the cafe where they sit.
The rest of his classmates are interesting enough to be around (though he still goes out of his way to avoid Bakugou, and Mineta just makes him shudder), and his teachers are understanding.
He goes to regular sessions with Hound Dog, and he is allowed extra tutoring outside of class time to supplement any missed gaps in his education from his rehabilitation period.
He doesn't mind because he doesn't really have anywhere to be. He lives in the U.A. dorms, after all.
Then comes the Sports Festival, and nerves make Shouto anxious and irritated. He is afraid of being on TV because so many things could happen because of it. His looks are incredibly distinctive and more likely than not, his father will be there, and he will know.
He snaps at his friends all day long and then only gets angrier when he realizes how he is acting. Through it all, they stay stubbornly by his side and do not ask, somehow seeming to understand that he is going through something even if he does not wish to talk about it. They do not demand or force him — in fact, they don't really do anything at all except, well, be there.
That is why he takes them aside the weekend before the Sports Festival and spills his biggest secret.
Nezu had given him permission to bring them to his dorms and prepared gag orders in case any of them reacted badly, so he brings them to his rooms and talks for hours, telling them the story of a young boy who ran and ran, and never stopped running.
Shouto doesn't even know why he worried.
After he tells them, he is nervous at first, because there is only silence.
When he finally looks up, Uraraka looks pale, Iida stricken, and Izuku's face is dark like he has never seen before.
Then they pile onto him in a mound of warm bodies, and they promise him he is more than Endeavor will ever be, and then they tell him that they will help him get revenge if he still wants it.
Uraraka is dramatically proclaiming how Endeavor is the scum of the Earth and deserves to be forgotten and Iida preaches that the best revenge is living well (though, he adds in an undertone, kicking him in the balls would work too, making Shouto snort and Uraraka cackle).
Izuku stays rather uncharacteristically silent, watching him with big eyes and a calm intensity that would be frightening if the look did not tell him that that strength would always be at his back.
Shouto hugs them back and laces their fingers together as they sit in a circle. Then they stuff their faces with sweets ('One day off your diets,' Aizawa-sensei had said. 'One.') and alternated between watching sitcoms and planning out ridiculous plans for Endeavor's murder.
Shouto leans into the embrace of his friends, and he is reminded that there is a type of fire out there that soothes instead of burns. And for the first time since boiling water was poured over his eye, since the jagged edges of his biological family, and since, 'If you leave, don't come back,' Shouto remembers what family feels like.
