Chapter Text
It was never Shoto’s choice. When Shoto was younger, sometimes a person would ask Shoto if, if, he wanted to be a hero, and Father would answer for him, “Of course he’ll be.”
As if he had a choice. There is no need to question it. Shoto can never, never say no. He was born for it. The foolishness of the question is like asking if people need to eat to survive. He still remembers Father got angry over those questions. Because Shoto might have gotten the impression he ever had a choice. And he didn’t and how dare he think otherwise.
And now…Shoto is allowed to have choices about things. He of course wants to be a hero. He doesn’t have to question that. But now, after all these years, he can tell Father no about other things. Father acknowledged he treated Mom badly, and that he shouldn’t have overlooked Fuyumi and Natsuo, and that he wasn’t right to Shoto, and said he’d do better. He’s changed. He has. And Fuyumi cries happily that they can be a family again, and Natsuo is begrudging, and Mom wants to let it all go to rest, and Shoto is…processing, watching, deciding what he’s going to do. And Father says he accepts that.
But…Shoto feels pressured. Such as when Father calls and asks this Sunday (asks, doesn’t demand) if Shoto would want a training session today. It’s as if icy prongs are circling his throat and will stab in if he says no. But the rebellious side of him flares up and he huffs out “No” in a decisive jab. And hangs up. The prongs stab in later when he hears an edge of disappointment in Father’s voice.
It’s just guilt, Shoto tells himself. It’s only that Shoto feels a bit guilty for refusing his father. He knows he has the right to—he doesn’t owe the scumbag favors. But Midoriya said Shoto wants to forgive him because he’s a kind person, and so that must be why he’s feeling guilty. How can Shoto forgive Father if he won’t give him chances?
Father asks a few more times about a training session. Shoto finally says yes. After all, he interned under Father. And in his own words, who better than the-now strongest pro hero to train him? Shoto fights down the uneasy roiling in his stomach that sets in the moment he agrees.
The first training session since…this restart, isn’t too bad. It’s somewhat worse than UA’s normal, but that’s because Father can read his fighting moves better than anyone, even Midoriya who is exceptional at analysis.
But it’s not the training sessions themselves Shoto hates. It’s a fact that heroes get hurt. UA pushes them and the students get injured, pushed until they’re worn down and aching, but somehow, it’s not the same. It’s the lovelessness that always backed Father’s training. No love mitigated the hot flames and overpowering punches. Father didn’t take mercy on him even when he was a small child who could hardly make a proper fist. With UA’s training, even when Shoto is scraped up and exhausted, he doesn’t seethe and long to buck up against it all.
But there must be a limit to how much physical force someone can use before they’re crossing a line, wherever that gray line is. Father’s training sessions get more intense. Gradually. Shoto only realizes once it’s already happened, when he’s got a lot of injuries and can barely get up, and Father has yelled at him so many times with cutting, vicious words that wound as deep inside as the burns and bruises outside do and that last far longer.
How much is too much, Shoto wonders, as Father slams a fist to his gut, and Shoto drops to his knees and retches up everything in his stomach.
Midoriya beat Shoto up during the Sports Festival—fought til Shoto had frostbite and bruises. But his reasons were so different. Midoriya went too wild and emotional (and later apologized profusely to Shoto for it). But even then, a lot of his anger was for Shoto’s sake. From the deep desire to help Shoto. It’s incomprehensible, because at the time Shoto was little more than a standoffish (and somewhat aggressive) classmate, but that’s how Midoriya is. So heroic.
What is Father thinking, Shoto wonders, as he prods Shoto with his boot, and curls his lip and builds fire on his fist.
Is Father thinking, Shoto, I want you to be strong so you don’t get killed by villains and so you better yourself because I care for you as my son and a person? Or is he thinking, you’re my masterpiece and you WILL fulfill your role to surpass All Might, you will not be a pathetic weakling? Both? Is it something else entirely?
“Focus!!” Father bellows. A searing hand around Shoto’s throat wipes out those thoughts. Shoto snarls and lashes out with ice spikes. This is a fight. Just like it’s always been.
Only, it’s not. Father calls off the training before Shoto is spent, and he strides out before Shoto could protest. It’s…it’s…
Shoto doesn’t know what to feel. A tiny part of him has a Bakugo-like surge of anger. Is Father thinking I’m weak and pathetic? I can most certainly hold out at least a half hour more at this rate. And another, I’m already this hurt—multiple bruises, first and maybe one or two second degree burns, and I’m aching all over, so what’s the point of stopping now? I need training, not half-baked sparring. And another, a painful-hope-doubt that he snuffed out long ago, does Father really not want to hurt me? Was it his sympathy, not that I was too lackluster, or that he’s forcing himself not to hurt his masterpiece too badly, but that he cares?
He did promise not to ever push Shoto as far as he’s done before—no poisoning, no being locked in a freezer for hours. Nothing that would unnecessarily make Shoto suffer. But at what point does Shoto want him to stop? Poisoning happens—it might save his life to acquire poison tolerance, so even though the poisoning training was days and days of pain and sickness, it was helping him. And the freezer, now that Shoto is using both sides of his quirk, would be nothing more than what everyone at UA does to boost their quirk’s limits.
Shoto sits on the training room floor for a while, clutching his throbbing head as if it’s about to rip apart and shred him from his mind to his heart.