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“Do you wanna watch All Might with me?” Izuku’s high and fragile voice pulls Touya into waking. Not that he was asleep - just drifting - there’s no sleeping when his skin relentlessly itches and aches from slow-healing burns. The teen is heavens above better than weeks ago when tiny six-year-old Izuku found him in a burnt-out clearing, but injuries like this take weeks and months to heal.
Not that his father knew any better.
Touya turns his head to the side, wincing through his bandages as his neck stretches and cracks. But, thanks to Izuku and Midoriya Inko’s fast thinking, it won't scar.
He remembers seeing them while barely clinging to his frayed threads of life, faintly aware of a hollowed and cracked place in his chest leaking a liquid heat threatening to turn him into charcoal and ash. Izuku ran towards him, ignoring the fire spilling from Touya’s lips. Midoriya Inko was close behind and pulled out – of all things – an emergency fire blanket as bright and red as Endeavour’s hair. She swaddled him, uncaring of the heat, and when he regained consciousness, he was in some sort of medical facility.
And covered in fish.
Ugh. The thought of it makes Touya want to hurl.
Not actual fish, just fish skin – a supposedly ‘normal’ treatment for burns that significantly reduce burn scar appearance and irritation. He looked like a sea monster covered in scales, and while he couldn’t smell the fish, knowing he was wrapped made him hurl a few times.
Fuck, he really hates fish.
“Do you wanna watch All Might with me?” Izuku repeats, large green eyes curious. Fuck, Touya drifted again.
The teen takes in the green-haired child almost lazily. Six years old, only a few months older than his youngest brother, and impossibly small. Izuku’s greenness is an anchor in Touya’s life. There is no ‘us’ versus ‘them’ or red versus white in those curls. There’s no fire versus ice, no traits of a man who trained the teen to be a weapon before promptly abandoning him for a shiny new baby.
Just Izuku.
Just a little kid who showed more care as a stranger than Touya’s mother was allowed. Just a kid who obsessed over All Might so much it would drive Endeavour up the wall.
Touya smirks at the thought of his father raging, “Yeah, watching All Might sounds great.”
“You’re Elsa!” Izuku beams, leaning over the back of the couch as Touya refills his water bottle in the kitchen for what seems like the tenth time this hour. Why is he always so thirsty?
“In that I am the opposite of Elsa, sure.” Touya downs half the water bottle and refills it again. It’s been a month in this cramped apartment, and the teen can finally walk around without his burns screaming in pain. Izuku, in turn, has claimed Touya as his new best friend and insists on doing everything together – which may have actually improved the teen’s tooth-brushing skills.
“You’re Elsa, and I’m Anna!” The kid insists, waving his arms emphatically like the sibling characters are a revelation. Is Touya supposed to play pretend? He doesn’t exactly know what to do with a kid this small. He was separated from Natsuo and Fuyumi because he was ‘better,’ their white hair proof of their lesser value. Of the few times he’s seen Shouto - the usurper that made Touya garbage by comparison - well, play was the last thing on Touya’s mind.
“Okay, how am I Elsa?” Touya flops onto the couch, stretching his legs on the seat and nudging Izuku to sit with his foot.
“Conceal, don’t feel!” Izuku strikes a pose somewhere between the ice queen using her powers and All Might using a United States of Smash. The kid pouts, clambering between Touya’s legs and sitting on the far armrest. “That’s not right. The trolls! You know how the trolls told Elsa her quirk would just grow and grow and grow and that it’s pretty and dangerous?”
“Pretty sure I’m just dangerous,” Touya gestures at the bright red scars along his cheeks, touching the corner of his lips to form a lopsided Glasgow smile.
Izuku huffs, crossing his arms against his chest theatrically. “That’s like saying there are bad quirks! All quirks are cool! All quirks can be pretty; you just gotta – you know – ”
“Let it go?” Izuku nods, and Touya can’t help but chuckle.
Touya did ‘let it go’ in that forest clearing, his flames a scorching blue – the color of ice and failure. He burned the forest, burned himself, and lost control. The cracked spot inside still leaks molten heat, burning him from the inside out. Inko made him a sleep shirt and gloves out of a fire blanket to stop the leaking heat before it can combust. Even his bedding is lined with the fabric so Touya doesn’t destroy the apartment in his sleep.
“Yeah! Kind of! Elsa becomes happy when she builds her ice castle! She doesn’t have to hide her quirk or herself. Maybe, maybe, maybe you won’t burn yourself anymore if you do what you want.”
“So, build a fire castle or speak my truth?” Touya may not have much experience with little kids but the bewildering expression they wear when he defies their weird kid logic is his favorite pastime.
“I don’t know what that means,” Izuku frowns, “Is it Elsa making her sparkly dress?”
If Touya is buying this Frozen analogy, then Izuku might be right. He’s seen the song Let it Go in passing, tiredly wrapping his training wounds from the living room floor while Fuyumi watched the movie for the millionth time. He’s not sure what the American lyrics are supposed to be, but Elsa’s new dress magically appears when she proudly declares her new self and determination to make a new life.
“Yeah, something like that.” Touya probably won’t get a fancy dress, but a new life sounds pretty good.
Touya’s a couple of months into living with the Midoriyas when he finally ventures outside. He volunteers to pick up Izuku from school when Inko is stuck at the vet hospital because a coworker has a family emergency. It’s not the best decision, as his arms and neck are still wrapped in bandages, while the latest scar treatment on his face leaves his right side looking like a sunburn. He wouldn’t be surprised if some stranger on the street screamed and ran away. But he goes, tucking a spare key and cash into his front pocket.
Stepping outside is an experience, to say the least, as he wanders unfamiliar streets toward a primary school. Endeavor required a chauffeur to every destination; Touya can’t recall ever walking home. He’s never needed directions before, so he creates landmarks to find his way back. Left at the light pole covered in stickers. Continue straight if the neon sign of a cat eating a burger is on his right.
Maybe Touya and Izuku will walk the long way home and pick up ice cream or something.
“You’re here!” Izuku’s bright laughter catches Touya’s attention – pink rubber duck painted on the wall is near the entrance of Izuku’s school – watching Izuku bound forward from a group of kids several feet inside the school gates. The green-haired kid latches around the teen’s leg. Would Touya have this moment with his siblings if he had different parents? Is this even a moment he wants?
“So I am. Inko’s working overnight today. How about you and I go exploring and grab dinner?”
Izuku leads Touya through his favorite places in Musutafu. First, a playground pockmarked with holes, then the ominous looming gates of U.A., then a tea shop that offers Izuku a cookie and Touya a coffee – free of charge. The teen notices, despite the numerous bandages over his body and scars on his face, the public looks at Izuku with wariness. What about Midoriya Izuku requires caution?
“Look! It’s my favorite!” The green-haired kid laughs like he hadn’t said it about the last three locations. His chubby little hands gesture grandly to a feudal-era mansion seemingly retrofitted into a library with a long and low white rectangular building under construction at the far end. Both buildings overlook the ocean, something Touya can only get glimpses of from his vantage point.
“It’s a library,” The scarred teen offers lamely. School libraries were always less stocked than the Todoroki household; Touya has never had a reason to visit one so public.
“It’s the most important place in the world,” Izuku says with all the conviction of a six-year-old. “Mom says, mom says, she says that libraries are more important than heroes.”
Touya snorts. If only Endeavor could hear this.
“It’s true!” Izuku stomps his feet as they cross the road. “Heroes can’t become heroes without learning, and you learn in a library! And sometimes nice people from the library have quirk counseling for people like me! And! And! They also help people when they’re down, and they let Kacchan and me borrow books, and they have story time and movie nights and – ”
“I get it!” He doesn’t.
“Libraries save people!” Izuku insists. “They saved you!”
“Oh yeah?” Touya smirks. “How?”
The kid squirms, hands bunching his shirt in his tiny hands. “Back when we were, we were trying to figure out my quirk; the library people gave us that blanket in case my dad’s fire quirk came in. Mom’s carried it everywhere.”
The doctors said the fire suppression blanket made a world of difference. It suffocated his flames and prevented the burns from getting worse. Had Touya been found ten minutes later, the doctors suspected he’d be in a coma or worse.
Touya squints up at the building resting on top of a moderate hill, its appearance suddenly less intimidating than the U.A. gates. “Alright, squirt, show me what all this library has to offer.”
After their trip to the library, Touya starts picking up Izuku from school. It frees up Inko’s schedule to make dinner or follow-up appointments for Touya, and the teen spends most of his time learning back-alley paths or venturing to the library with the kid.
They don’t always go, sometimes ‘Kacchan’ – a spiky-haired blond with a bad attitude and explosive fire on his palms – clings to Izuku, turning the afternoon into a day at the park. Kacchan makes Touya’s burns itch. He can imagine that sandy blond hair dyed blood red and exchange the sparkler explosions for searing heat, and then it’s just Endeavor all over again. The teen wants to burn every angry bit – everything that is Endeavor – out of this Kacchan, but Izuku’s bright smiles and laughter at the rough blond gives him pause.
No one smiles like that at Endeavor. Kacchan must be different. So, instead of burning, Touya settles for ruffling the blond hair to make it less spiky.
“What’s your quirk?” Izuku asks, skipping down the sidewalk as they make their way to the library. He buries his chin into a red, yellow, and blue All Might scarf. Touya unzips his thin windbreaker, too hot despite the promise of snow in the clouds. Winter crept up too fast, and the teen finds it hard to believe he’s been in the Midoriyas care for the better part of four months. They found him at the end of July, and every decoration in Touya’s surroundings screams Christmas.
Back then, Endeavor was supposed to see him in the forest. Back then, Touya was supposed to prove himself better than Shouto, worthy of being a hero and the man’s attention. Endeavor would stop ignoring him, train Touya for the entrance exam at U.A., and he’d be everything his father wanted to be. Once he was at U.A., the support course could figure out a way to prevent his fire from burning him since they help heroes reduce the adverse effects of their quirks. But all of that hinged on Endeavor seeing Touya’s worth.
Instead, Izuku came running and has hardly given the teen a moment’s peace. Touya, surprisingly, doesn’t mind. He’s spent a lifetime isolated and pushing away from his weaker and flawed siblings. It’s nice to have someone to talk to, fun to voice strange ideas or play off little kid logic to spur something new. It’s nice to sit at a dinner table filled with chatter instead of silence and live in a home where the biggest problem is deciding what type of ice cream to eat. If this is family, Touya hopes he never leaves.
“Fire.”
Izuku puffs out his cheeks in obvious annoyance. “I know that, but what kind?” He whines. “Dad breathes fire,” he juts his chin out of the scarf, his breath clouding in cold weather. “Hero Jetstream only has fire come out of his feet, and Endeavor makes funny mustaches and beards with his!”
Touya snorts, laughter overriding the panic of hearing his father’s hero name. Leave it to Izuku to reduce Endeavor’s prowess to his tacky fire beard.
“It changed a little before you found me,” Touya admits when his laughter finally subsides. “I don’t know what to call it. I can activate it all over, but it’s easier to control in my hands.”
The teen hasn’t used his quirk in so long, the heat starting to leak out of him, smoldering three fire-resistant blankets over the past month. The broken piece inside him thrums with heat that aches to escape. It whispers to set papers on fire in the library, singe dead leaves during the fall, and burn down apartment complexes left and right. The molten heat in his chest drips into his stomach, igniting a hunger to burn, burn, burn.
Touya needs to practice his changed quirk and let bits of fire out to sate the hunger for a little while. Water helps, reducing the need to burn for some time, but there’s only so much water a person can drink in a day.
“What about you, kid?” Touya glances down at Izuku, desperate to keep his mind off hunger and heat. “What’s your quirk?” Please don’t be fire, please don’t be fire.
“I don’t have one,” Izuku says in a small voice, slowing to a stop. “I – I’m quirkless.”
Quirkless people aren’t real. They’re just a front for the Yakuza.
Fat and heavy tears well up in green eyes, threatening to spill over. Well, fuck.
Come to think of it, Touya has never seen Izuku use his quirk. Yakuza tend to live in mansions akin to Endeavor’s home instead of Midoriya Inko’s cramped apartment. Yakuza offspring allegedly know to keep their quirk a secret and aren’t typically upset when their quirklessness is brought up.
“Mom took me to one doctor, and he said some weird things, so we went to base for another doctor,” The kid hiccups, tears spilling free before wailing. “And she said I got the pinky toe and everything!”
Endeavor would think Izuku far worse than any disappointment Touya could be.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Touya kneels before the curly-haired kid, brushing away tears and wiping his runny nose with the All Might scarf. “Nothing wrong with being quirkless. You’re Anna, and I’m Elsa, remember? You know what the best thing about Anna is?” The teen wracks his brain for the story, silently wishing he had watched from beginning to end with Fuyumi.
“What?”
“She sees the good in people and helps everyone else see the good in the world. True love and all that stuff.” Touya ruffles green curls. Izuku leans into the touch, tears finally slowing. “Do you want to build a snowman?” He reaches out with his free hand, squishing Izuku’s cheeks until his lips pucker. “It doesn’t have to be a snowman.”
Izuku releases a watery laugh, nodding along as Touya stands, leading the way to the beach.
“What did we agree on?” Touya raises a brow as he ditches his windbreaker where the beach and junk pile meet.
“Safety first!” Izuku calls out behind an open car door, fingers pressing against grimy glass.
“What else?”
“Don’t move unless it’s to run for help!”
“And if I lose control?”
“I run for help; you run into the water!”
Touya nods, stretching his arms above his head. The cracked spot inside him yawns, and a vivid image of a blue flame waterfall flowing through his ribs burns his mind. Liquid flames run through his veins, surging down his arms and palms. Fire ignites in his hands, singeing his fingertips. He juggles the balls of light in the air to the distant coo and awe of little kid amazement before casting the balls into the sand into a semi-circle.
The heat in his chest reaches for more, cursing the winter weather and chilled skin, greedily wanting more to consume. It hates being locked away for so long, hates Endeavor for pushing Touya so far, hates Shouto, hates his skin for being too weak to withstand immense power. Touya could let the greed and hatred win by easily turning singed fingers into ash.
Blue fire races up his gray long sleeve, the insides of his cheeks blistering as smoke billows from his lips. Touya sees Izuku behind the car door between plumes of smoke, eyes growing wide with fear. Distantly, the teen recalls the beginning of Frozen and the terror on Elsa’s face when she’s unable to catch Anna in time.
Fear, greed, and hatred, wasn’t that what made Elsa’s powers get out of control?
He needs to let those feelings go.
Fuck, is he Elsa?
Touya slowly exhales black smoke, reigning in the greedy licks of fire crawling up his arm.
If fear and hatred push Touya over the edge, then the opposite should keep him steady. He’ll show confidence and determination in the face of fear because he will protect Izuku from the flames. He’ll show care because hatred destroys; care means to nourish. Touya’s fire is not the same Hellflame Endeavor possesses, which damns anyone the hero perceives as an enemy. His flame is not the harmless blue like the hitodama, souls of the recently deceased.
Heat pulses through his palms as the last bit of fire extinguishes, arms blackened with the ash of his long sleeve. For Izuku, Touya will not be a wildfire but a backburn. His fire belongs to the forest, burning trees and vegetation to release nutrients and promote new growth.
“You did it!” Izuku cries out, jumping up and down from the safety of the junk pile.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Touya tries to dismiss but can’t help but smirk under the praise. He flops onto the sand and hears a sizzle immediately snuff out. He covers his chest in frigid sand, then buries his arms by flapping them as if to make a snow angel. Touya sighs in relief, lifting his head to the junk pile. “Okay, you can move.”
“So, cool!” Izuku screeches, tiny feet sliding through the sand. “Did you know? Blue fire burns at 1400 degrees Celcius, and sand turns to glass at 1700 degrees?”
“What about it?” Touya knows about the blue fire; it would have shown his worth to Endeavour.
The kid slides to his knees at Touya’s side. “You made glass!” Izuku holds up a misshapen sandy bowl between his hands. “Your fire creates!” Wonder sparkles in the kid’s eyes; his awestruck words are as soothing as the cold sand.
Endeavor taught Touya that fire burns until victory is the only thing that remains.
Izuku, in all his little kid wonder, is teaching Touya that he can make so much more than victory with his flames. He could make a new fighting style, a new life, and lay the groundwork for room to grow.
“Hey!” Touya bolts upright, startling Izuku. “We should research quirks more, right?”
“Right!” Green curls bob vigorously. “Let’s see what else you can do!”
“Would you like to sign up for a library card?” A man behind a semi-circle counter asks a few days later, scanning the picture books from Izuku’s stack. Touya has seen this man countless times with messy light brown hair, half-moon glasses, and a beauty mark at the far corner of each eye. If he’s noticed this librarian, this man has observed Touya at Izuku’s side.
Izuku is quickly graduating from picture books to chapter picture books, but the occasional higher-level book checked out under the kid’s name would give someone pause. The man holds a book of poems by Miyazawa Kenji in his hand while a textbook of advanced quirk theory sits beside the picture books. The latter is for Touya and Izuku because the teen needs to brush up on quirk theory for as many questions as the kid asks. The textbook is thicker than all the picture books combined. Its plain cover implies scholarly use instead of a six and fourteen-year-old.
“Love to, can’t.” Touya tries to flash a Midoriya family smile, kind and loving, though the expression might be out of reach thanks to his DNA. Unfortunately, kind and loving aren’t Todoroki traits.
Lately, Touya sees himself more as a Midoriya than anything else. He likes waking up in a cramped apartment to a kid brother who does not know the meaning of personal space. He likes having the agency to go where he wants when he wants. He likes being able to speak, and when he says something wrong – the punishment isn’t pain; it’s understanding. Touya is a big fan of the Midoriyas expectations for one another. It’s not to surpass the number one hero, and it’s not to become a doctor or some other high-stress situation. It’s to help when they see a need and to be happy without undue burdens attached.
“We’ll just need your name and address, something that can confirm your identity.”
And there’s the problem. The Midoriyas found Touya nearly half a year ago in that forest clearing. He spent over a month on that military base with – ugh – fish treatment and only lived in Musutafu for a few months. Izuku has never pressed for a name, and while Inko asked, she backed off after noticing the abject terror of being found.
Touya hasn’t had a name in months. There’s no identity to confirm because he doesn’t want to be a Todoroki anymore.
“He’s my Nii-san!” Izuku chirps, like his little six-year-old word should be enough. Like Touya has always been Izuku’s brother.
The man behind the desk looks dubious, raising a brow. He pulls out a notepad and writes a few words down.
“Sign up for a Brooklyn public library card,” He directs, tugging the note off and offering it to Touya. “Brooklyn offers a free universal rental system – no confirmation of anything necessary. Once you receive your card in the mail, that is your proof of identity for a Musutafu library card. Understand?”
Izuku called libraries and their librarians heroes, but Touya has an inkling librarians are vigilantes, which doesn’t sound like a half-bad career.
“Can we talk?” Touya asks from the kitchen counter, frowning at the laptop in front of him. The website is open to the Brooklyn Public Library and requires his first and last name. By habit, he wants to type Todoroki, but it doesn’t feel right. Midoriya feels correct, but typing it alongside Touya feels like he’s playing pretend and hiding from his parents.
Nothing about the past several months feels like hiding. It felt like learning to survive. Then, when survival was second nature, the Midoriyas taught him how to thrive.
Inko pads her way from Izuku’s shut door and into the kitchen. She rolls up her sleeves in preparation to clean the dishes in the sink – the one chore she’s adamant about Touya avoiding – when Inko meets his gaze, green eyes warm as she beams ear to ear. The teen thinks he remembers his mother’s smiles, as cold and distant as her white and gray features.
“I’ll make some tea.”
Minutes later, Inko sets a cup of tea at Touya’s side, sipping on her own. Her eyebrows raise as if gesturing go on.
“I want to sign up for a library card,” He starts, grimacing at how lame it sounds. “But you sort of need an identity for that.”
“That’s no problem. I can just give you mine and – ”
“I can’t just live off your hospitality. I need to be someone again. I want to help.”
“But you don’t want to be who you were before.” Inko nods solemnly. As a Todoroki, Touya is bound to Endeavor’s will. Bound to the desperate need to be better and the fear of eventual failure. As a Todoroki, the teen holds anger he can’t make sense of. He wants to burn Shouto, burn Kacchan, and protect Izuku with all his heart. As a Todoroki, Touya is alone, isolated from others, and unable to choose.
“No,” He shakes his head. Technically, Todoroki Touya is already dead. His ‘death’ was reported on countless news outlets for months. He’s a clean slate; he could be anyone.
“What do you think?” Touya pushes the notebook to Izuku on a paper-filled table in the library. Izuku frowns, looking at the complicated kanji with an uncomprehending expression before the hiragana underneath.
“Dabi,” The kid mouths the word slowly. “Boring.”
“It stands for cremation. Burning my old life behind.”
“Isn’t there a firebird that does that?” Kacchan demands, little kid voice rasping with irritation.
Touya vaguely recalls an illustration of a red and gold bird sailing across the sky.
“A phoenix!” Izuku chirps happily. “They’re really cool! Dad talked about them. He said they burn up and become babies when they get old! And then he’d blow out some fire,” The curly-haired kid mimics the motion, “And start coughing up all this smoke!”
The story sounds a little familiar, something about rebirth. Touya writes out Pheonix and mulls over the spelling. The Japanese technically don’t have a phoenix in mythology, but they have similar creatures. Touya plays with the kanji until he settles on one, offering to Izuku.
“Kyoui, that sounds fun!” Izuku beams.
“Look, the kanji can be read a few different ways. It stands for Pheonix, but it also stands for Miracle – like how we met,” Touya points at specific characters, carefully watching Izuku’s expression. What a glorious happenstance Izuku happened to be wandering a different city’s forest with his mother on a random day in the summer. “And it also reads as Marvel because I’m going to marvel the world.”
“Amazing,” Izuku whispers, and Kacchan clicks his tongue in annoyance.
Kyoui.
Midoriya Kyoui has a nice ring to it.
Touya isn’t sure if Inko or her husband has very good connections or if they actually are part of the Yakuza, but he has a new name within a week. After dinner, she passes him a birth certificate, a military base I.D., and a Musutafu library card with Midoriya Kyoui typed in neat letters. His birthday is still the same, the last vestige of his old life, and that’s about as much as he wants to keep.
“You’re my nephew from a relative on the base,” Inko says quietly, though the apartment is empty. Izuku is at a sleepover with his friend Kacchan. “Your quirk was a fire mutation that surprised us. When we were still dating, you met Hisashi, my husband, and he volunteered to come to the base to help you with your quirk. Your parents wanted you to experience life off the base, so you came to live with us.”
“And you’re fine with that?” The story sounds plausible, but logistics around a new identity sounds illegal. Faking a birth certificate is one thing, but faking a U.S. military base I.D.? All for a library card? All for letting Touya start fresh?
“Are you fine with leaving your old life behind?” Inko implores, brows furrowing with concern. “If this is a byproduct of your life,” she reaches up, cold fingers brushing against bumpy mottled scars. “Will all the people you care about be okay?”
“He wouldn’t hurt them,” Touya leans into the touch. “Not my mom or my sister. One of my brothers, maybe. He-he’s supposed to be a better version of me, so I don’t know. I don’t know.” He closes his eyes as heat pricks them. He wasn’t much of a crier before, but the Midoriyas seem to be rubbing off on him. Touya wipes at his eyes, knowing if he stayed, the anger he felt on the beach would have consumed him, turning his heart to ash. His blue fire would have burned like onibi, destroying everything in its wake. “I would have hurt them if I stayed. This. This is better.”
“Kyoui,” Touya’s new name sends a wave of soothing cold shuddering through Touya’s chest, pressing against the heated cracked space behind his sternum. “Izuku and I are so happy to have you as part of the family.”