Chapter Text
Unlike most children you were around while growing up, you never wanted to be a hero.
Being a hero just wasn’t in the cards for you, not with your last name, not with your family, not with your quirk.
Often you were teased, poked at, made fun of for being a villain in the making. Just another bad apple from a poisonous tree that should stop reproducing. Even some of the adults you were around would give you side looks, a wariness in their eyes as you grew older, teachers speaking blunt and quick, parents urging their kids away from you. Because being a Shinku meant having a specific type of quirk.
A quirk that you feel nothing but indifference towards, accepting it as a part of who you are.
Not that you were always so capable of doing so. There was a time when it was hard to come to terms with what lot in life you were given and you remember vividly yearning for something else. Jealous and seething at how unfair it was whenever classmates would demonstrate their quirks. Even the more mundane ones such as minor levitation or creating claws from one’s fingertips seemed like super strength or fire manipulation. But as you grew older, a bit more tired, a lot more jaded, you saw the uses in your quirk. Sure, you might not be able to be a hero, but you could still help people.
Just not the people that most would like to help.
The very idea of someone with the last name of Shinku being a hero was laughable but you found ways around it. Namely… you found that there are people similar to you that could use a bit of help, some TLC and… well, you could provide it.
It started off as an accident, honestly. Just another day at a dead end job while you attempted to fight your way into medical school even with so many odds stacked against you. But when you left your shift at a way too late hour and came across a bloodied man, barely breathing… you just acted. Grabbing his hand, trying to talk to him, ignoring the amount of blood all over his face and neck before letting instinct take over. Solidifying your blood enough to pierce through not only your skin, but his, and feeding your blood directly into his body.
He sputtered, coughing up more blood, but became more aware, confused and shocked when he found you crouched over him with glowing irises and black scleras. He panicked as you pulled away, letting your wrist fall to the side and he was quick on his feet and disappeared into the night. Leaving you lightheaded and with a curious feeling you couldn’t put your finger on. It almost felt like satisfaction.
It was a few days later when you ran into him again at work. He kept staring at your eyes, scleras white, irises back to their normal hue before apologizing, awkward and surprisingly well meaning for the area you worked and lived in. He even tried to pay you and you realized you were dealing with probably a bad person by the amount he was trying to give you but… you waved it off with a, “think nothing of it.”
Then it happened again… and again… and again.
Until you finally had to admit that just maybe, sharing your quirk without some sort of payment wasn’t the best way to go. Not with the bloodloss catching up to you and the amount of days you were missing work because you simply couldn’t get out of bed. You started taking heavy duty iron supplements to counteract the constant tiredness, at least a little bit. Then a strange thing happened, your name began to be shared around.
Whispers about how nobody should mess with “Shinku” and that people needed to be mindful of you. There was fear, hardly anything new, but there was something else happening. It didn’t really dawn on you until after helping another person with gray morals similar to yourself that people actually seemed to be seeking you out. Hoping you would help.
Some of the vigilantes explained that it was just easier to go to you rather than a hospital and deal with the police.
Some of the villains admitted that they just preferred your calm, collected nature and how you didn’t ask a thousand questions.
Others just simply didn’t have anywhere to go beyond you.
So you continued to help, enjoying the satisfaction and feeling that maybe you weren’t a bad apple. That a Shinku can actually do some good.
Your apartment burned down but you were able to find another one shockingly fast. One that was above your paygrade as a two bedroom but the building’s owner gave it to you with a heavy discount for “helping a brother and a cousin”. You accepted it and even began to accept random walk-ins. Or rather… people who dragged themselves up the stairs to your apartment and banged on the door as they bled all over the floor. Eventually you had to keep a fridge specifically for blood in your apartment just to keep up with demand. You also warned consistent patients that the next time they came around, they needed to bring a few bags of O negative blood, the universal donor. And it had to be from a blood bank or a clinic so you wouldn’t risk getting sick. Your blood type and the key to your quirk being able to work on everyone and anyone.
Medical school got further and further away from you as the years went on but you didn’t mind. You still studied everything you needed to in regards to human anatomy, sanitation, cleaning wounds, stitching, so on and so forth. But the idea of actually going to med school and doing the residency and getting all the needed certifications and a specialization started to seem… pointless. Not when you were already doing pretty much all the work that would be expected, just in a very inappropriate - illegal - setting.
Not only that but… the idea of leaving the strangely tight knit community for a bunch of rejects, outcasts and violent people felt wrong. That thought solidified in your mind when you came across a teenager with the worst burns you’d ever seen in your life. You didn’t think and went over to him and outright told him, “if those hurt, I can help.”
He stared at you like you were insane, eyeing you, mouth pulling down into a frown with a look of pure distrust in his eyes. But one of your usuals was around and vouched for you, so you ended up getting to know Touya Todoroki.
His burns hurt you in a way you weren’t used to, so numerous, so terrible, and you did your damndest to ease his discomfort and heal what you could. It took time, multiple visits, too many pints of blood to count, but eventually, Touya started to feel things again. He was puzzled, amazed, and asked you after what must have been your twentieth blood transfusion with him over a period of a few months, “what’s your quirk?”
You were a little amused by his question and pointed out, “I thought it was obvious. I can heal people.”
He scowled, though it looked more like a pout and insisted, “but how? I can feel things again.”
You shrugged and admitted, for the first time to anyone, “I don’t know. It’s not something my family does, I’m an anomaly.”
“What does that mean?”
“Being a Shinku usually means some sort of blood manipulation, in the form of controlling other people’s blood or their own blood to make weapons or armor. Not many, if any, can heal people.”
He was quiet for a long time after learning that but did start to open up to you. Telling you snippets of his previous life, a life full of feeling lesser and worthless, of pain and yearning, of neglect and sadness. It hurt to hear because it resonated so damn much with what you went through. Not in the same exact manner but… hearing his past pulled at your heartstrings. Enough for you to start feeding him and throwing random clothes at him. The clothing was usually left by someone else, typically bloodstained, yes, but perfectly usable. You made sure to wash the clothes at least twice before giving them to Touya. Something that he didn’t know what to do with at first and even refused until you sat him down and told him to just take it. He avoided you for a good few weeks after that argument but did return, sullen but accepted the pair of boots you tossed his way.
Slowly, he came around more and it wasn’t weird if he ended up falling asleep on the couch or using your spare bedroom. You didn’t even blink if you returned home with groceries to find him already lounging on your couch, shoes off, with the tv on. If one of the patients in your care - it tended to be someone new - tried being mouthy, he was quick to rise up to the challenge. Blue flames licking around his fingertips, body tensed like he was ready for a fight and the patient never took him up on his offer. You knew how to fight, had done it before and the cruel lessons forced on you as a child and teenager remained in the back of your mind. So while Touya’s strange protective nature was endearing, you found it unnecessary until one day it came in handy.
One day when a new person came to your door while Touya happened to be visiting, hurt but also strung out on something. When you tried stitching up the worst of the wounds, you ended up on the floor with a nasty gash across your cheek. It shocked you more than anything, stunned as harsh hands grabbed your shirt collar, shaking you, screaming at you. Before you could manage a response, Touya was there, vicious and angry in a way you’d never seen.
Though the man was far larger than either of you, he didn’t care nor did he hesitate, shoving your attacker away and getting between the two of you. He had a feral look on his face, eerie, haunting, as blue fire sparked to life in his palms and he pushed those hands against the man's chest. He ran out of the apartment, crying, begging for help that nobody would give. You’d later find out he survived but had third degree burns on forty percent of his body.
Then Touya turned to you, his eyes oddly wide, wild and you saw panic. He looked so young and it reminded you just how old he was, not even an adult, as he crouched in front of you. He reached out, fire dying out before his too warm hands touched your face and stared at the gash. Something you weren’t worried about and told him, “I’m fine.” There was a look that passed through his eyes then, a vulnerability that was so rare and you put your hands on his shoulders. “Tou…” you spoke softly, not even thinking as you called him something so personal, “I’m okay.”
Only then did he snap out of whatever dark thoughts were running through his head, a frown on his face as he replied, “are you?”
It was the first time in a long time that you’d been asked how you were doing and you stared at him, taken aback. He seemed to know it too, lips pressing together tightly before he got up and went to your door, closing and locking it. You watched then forced yourself to stand up, holding your cheek that still bled far too much and headed into the bathroom. The pain hardly bothered you even as you stitched the skin back together until you were left with a neat line of stitches. Honestly, you doubted you needed sutures, your blood’s healing abilities tended to make short work of minor wounds but you wanted to take care of it. Not for your sake, but for Touya’s.
A cup of tea was on the counter when you walked back to the living room and Touya had taken to cleaning up the blood on the floor. He took one look at you and pointed at the cup before he continued wiping up the crimson liquid. Rather than fighting with him, you sat at the table with the tea that was made the way you preferred, sipping from it. Neither of you spoke for a long time but it was him who broke the silence, voice low and raspy, “has anyone done that before?”
“First time.”
That seemed to offer him a bit of comfort though he still had that look in his eyes, the one that you disliked and waited until he went to pass by you to the sink. Only then did you grab his wrist, touch careful, gentle, and waited until he turned towards you. He frowned, wary and you stood up before pressing your forehead against his and wrapping an arm around him. He tensed underneath the bit of affection, still and stony but wasn’t pushing away from it.
You ignored that and murmured, “thanks, Tou.”
There was silence that stretched for a long moment… then a quiet, “yeah.”
You pretended not to notice that he leaned into you and noted to give more hugs.
It turned out that Touya loved hugs.
He never said anything, sometimes would make a face or even roll his eyes but he never once refused them. In fact, as he got more accustomed to the affection, the more he would sit next to you or even lean on you if his day had been particularly bad, silently requesting one without saying the words. He stayed over more consistently and seemingly was always around while you treated people in the corner of your living room that served as your little medical office.
It was cute and you had to tease him, at least a little bit. He would wave you off but never snapped at you. The only time he actually got upset was if you accepted a very questionable client or one that had a bad habit of being sleazy with you. Somehow, you ended up adopting a moody, traumatized teenager and you really didn’t mind the outcome. Sure you weren’t that much older than Touya, only twenty one to his sixteen but you felt responsible for him and did what you could to look after him. He did the same in his own ways and soon, he was staying at your apartment full time.
It was new for you, you weren’t unaccustomed to sharing a space with someone you actually liked being around. He noticed it, the way you would startle whenever he’d enter the room, how you’d go still at the sound of his footsteps before relaxing once you caught sight of him. He made a habit of calling your name or randomly announcing what he wanted for dinner. You were thankful and grew used to him.
It took time for him too, you could tell he was used to not feeling things and had been numb for a long while. Something you worked on changing. Over the months he was around you and the many blood transfusions, most of the nerves in his body came back to life. He hadn’t done well with it at first, far too accustomed to simply using his quirk without repercussions but now… he could feel things again.
The pain wasn’t what stopped him from overusing his quirk though, you had a feeling it was because of you. Every time he did, you’d scold him, remind him that he didn’t need to push himself so far and he’d stare at you like he didn’t know what to do with that. He even demanded after he came home with fresh burns, “then what else am I supposed to do with my life? I was raised to be a hero.”
“I’m not telling you to stop, Tou. I’m telling you to be mindful, take measured risks.” That did make him pause, looking bewildered and you had no idea why but you kept going, “you don’t have to go out in a blaze of glory every damn time. Use your fire, help people if you want. But don’t kill yourself while doing it.”
“You really mean that. You think I can still be a hero.”
You shrugged and said, “why not? I wanted to be a doctor. And while I may not have a fancy piece of paper from a university, I pretty much am one. So why can’t you be a hero?” It was an odd dream to have in your eyes but you’d also been raised in darkness. At the same time though, if you were able to claw your way out of the bleak realities of your family and do good… then why couldn’t Touya do something similar? Even if his family told him that he couldn’t or shouldn’t or whatever was the case, the kid was the most determined and stubborn person you’d ever met. He would be the one to melt those shackles and show off exactly what he was capable of. You were just focused on making sure when he did, he wouldn’t be on the wrong side, so to speak, and be considered a villain for using his quirk.
He stared, blue eyes searching your face before his lips curled up into an honest, little smile and pointed out, “pretty sure I can’t be an official hero.”
“Okay then be a vigilante. Those are pretty much unofficial heroes.”
He was quiet after that but the look on his face suggested he was actually considering your words. The proof came later when he no longer had fresh burns on his skin and would sit in your living room, practicing how to pull back on his fire.
Another issue that came up now the two of you were sharing a space was how his emotions would suddenly flare. There were points where he would lash out over something seemingly small but there was always a theme behind his anger.
The first time it happened, you didn’t put the pieces together. It was during some sort of commercial, one that showcased the current top five heroes. Touya was barely paying attention, scrolling on his phone until the number two hero, Endeavor, began talking. Touya jerked his head up, blue eyes narrowed, teeth bared and he actually seemed ready to set your tv on fire. Flames gathered in his free hand, crackling loud and you reached over to touch his shoulder, voice firm, “don’t.”
He turned his eyes on you, frustration clear in his gaze before he gritted his teeth and stood up, disappearing to his room. It was a confusing moment… one you didn’t know what to do with. You glanced back at the tv that now had All Might talking and wondered what set him off. Was it the heroes droning on and on or… was it Endeavor?
Once you paid attention, you caught onto the issue. Anytime the number two hero showed up on the tv, he’d flip to a different channel or put on a streaming service. Anytime Endeavor’s picture was on a magazine cover at the store, Touya would look at it, lips pressed together and seemingly wishing it would catch fire by his stare alone. Anytime the Flame Hero had a radio interview, usually talking about his training or how he ended up so high of a rank, Touya would tense and turn off the radio.
It came to a head when there was a tv interview with Endeavor.
The tv was honestly just on, you weren’t even paying attention as you were making dinner when there was the sound of glass breaking. It made you jump and twist around to find Touya in front of the screen, hands balled into fists, a cup shattered on the ground. You watched, listening intently to what was being said and heard the hero commenting on how he had a legacy that not even All Might could touch. One he was proud of. One that took many years to figure out. One that was in the form of his youngest son.
Touya was shaking, eyes on the tv and the words he spoke broke your heart, “that’s what you call having kid after kid until one had the quirks you wanted? Meanwhile the rest of us were tossed to the side like trash…? That’s your fucking legacy?!”
Quietly, you abandoned the vegetables on the cutting board and rested against one of the counters, observing and listening.
He kept going, ranting, so many emotions spilling forth that you hadn’t seen before. Flames gathered in his fists, his voice cracking and you had enough, pushing off the counter and wrapping your arms around his middle. He startled, head snapping to look over his shoulder and you took in his wild gaze before squeezing him, gently. You didn’t say anything and he faltered… briefly before looking back at the tv and letting out more words. Words that hurt to hear, yes, but you kept quiet to let him have this release.
Names you didn’t know were said, like Fuyumi and Natsuo who were apparently thrown to the side the second their quirks showed as all ice and no fire. Then another name, Shouto, his voice had pure venom when he said it between gritted teeth about how that was his ‘replacement’. By the time the interview ended, Touya was practically slumped in your arms, shaking before he suddenly turned to you with tears rolling down his cheeks. It shocked you and you weren’t sure how to react until his arms locked around you and pulled you close, his head buried against your shoulder.
You blinked then softened and moved a hand up to pet his white hair, offering as much comfort and support as you could. Though you felt clumsy at it, unsure what the hell you were doing, it seemed to help and that’s all you could ask for. A statement left him, muffled but you heard it far too loud, “why the fuck couldn’t I have been what he wanted? Why wasn’t I born right?”
That made your eyes go wide and you tensed then quickly pulled away, grabbing his face between your hands and said, “listen to me.” Teary eyes stared at you, wide and you glared, “your father is a selfish, idiotic man that sees his kids as tools and nothing more. There is not a damn thing wrong with you.”
“I’m covered in scars that I caused myself. I can’t handle my own quirk and you’re trying to tell me there’s nothing wrong with me.”
“Yeah. I am. Because I have the feeling the reason why you can’t handle your quirk was because you were never taught how to.”
He tried arguing then, insisted that he and his father spent weeks on how to use fire and how to make the flames bigger, brighter, hotter, and it was hard to listen to. It only frustrated you more.
You finally had to cut in and say, “that’s my point, Touya. He never once taught you how to pull back on your flames, did he?”
“No.” There was a long pause and he muttered, “he stopped training me after finding out my body is suited for ice resistance, not fire.”
“That sounds like he failed at teaching you. He poured gasoline on a fire without ever giving you a way to tamper it down. And couldn’t even be around when that fire grew out of control.”
Touya closed his eyes and slumped in your hold with a murmur of, “it’s fucked up.”
“It is.”
“I’ll never really get over it, will I?” Not a question you expected from him, his previous anger and resentment seemingly drained out of him for the time being.
That question had you hesitating and you took a moment to consider before answering, “I don’t know.”
“Have you?” His eyes reopened then, searching, curious and you fought against the urge to close yourself off as he continued, “forgiven or gotten over what you’ve been through.”
It took you a few moments but you shook your head and said, “not forgiven. But I’ve moved on. It’s not easy but letting it fester only brings more pain. Cutting them off was the best thing I ever did.”
“Your family is fucked up like mine, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
He stared at you for a long time before he pulled you against him for another hug, “I’m glad you dragged me to your apartment that day.”
You had to smile, just a little and agree, “I am too.” Leaning up, you rested your forehead against his and murmured, “you’re gonna be okay, Tou. Maybe not today, probably not in the next month but… eventually.”
He closed his eyes, a few more tears falling as he replied softly, “yeah.”
At that moment, you wondered if this was similar to a normal sibling relationship. All you knew was competition, blood and pain. Not this, not comfort, not a warm feeling flowing through your veins… and you decided in that same moment you’d do everything in your power to protect whatever this new thing was.
You decided to take him to a secluded park, one that not many people bothered with because of it being overgrown, dilapidated and far too dangerous for children. There was a playground, tiny and barely standing, a murky pond that once had fish but looked more like a radioactive swamp and quite a bit of overgrown grass, trees and brush surrounding the whole thing.
It was in the heart of the Yuno district where you lived and often a place of bittersweet memories. Some memories weren’t so bad, like playing with the occasional friend or making up your own adventures in your head. Other memories tasted like copper and salty tears, metallic and repugnant.
There, you showed him how the Shinku fought.
You were rusty, yes, but not so rusty that you couldn’t lay him out on his back before he could fire off his quirk. He stared up at the sky, eyes wide before he looked at you, head tilted and stated, “and you were seriously told you couldn’t be a hero.”
“Yup,” you crouched next to him, “but that’s neither here nor there. We’re here so you can learn to not just rely on your flames, Tou.”
His lips tilted up into a bitter smile and he asked, “think I can still be a hero, huh?”
“Nope.” Reaching out, you grabbed his hand and made him get up, “I know you can be. So stop laying on your ass and show me what a Todoroki can do.”
It became a ritual of sorts after that, training with Touya at least once a week - typically on an early Saturday. Not only did it help him improve on his own way of fighting but it helped you stay brushed up on yours. Slowly, he stopped being so careless, so quick to throw flames and instead watched you move and copied where he could. He wasn’t quite as fluid with his footwork as you but he certainly made up for it with fast grappling and using his quirk to close the distance.
Still reckless at times, yes, but a far better improvement compared to the brute force method he insisted on using at the beginning. Something you had to question him on while sitting on a rusted metal bench, “is that seriously how you were taught to fight? Throwing wild punches and hoping to overpower your opponent?”
He nodded and took a long drink of water, eyes up on the sky, “yeah. I’ve always been told to use my quirk at all times, go all out. It’s how my father tends to fight.”
“That’s terrible advice. No wonder why you ended up hurting yourself so bad.”
He scoffed though his eyes flickered down to the scars on his wrist, lifting up his arm and agreed, “seems like it.” His eyes flickered to you and admitted, “I never thought about doing it differently. I’ve always been told my quirk was the only way for me to go far in life.”
“Again, shit advice,” you grumbled and took the water bottle from his hand to drink from it, “quirks help, don’t get me wrong. But nobody should rely on them solely to fight.”
“You can’t fight with yours, can you?”
You twitched at his question and stared at the water bottle, thinking… then shook your head and finished it. After tossing it into the trash can, you glanced at Touya and replied, “technically? I can… I just don’t.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s cruel what I can do.” You hold a hand up and tell him, “not gonna answer your next question, Tou. I’m sorry.” He pressed his lips together but accepted your boundary with a nod. You relaxed and stood up, offering your hand and said, “let’s head back. I feel gross and sweaty from dodging your flames.”
He rolled his eyes and griped at you, “yeah, yeah, at least I didn’t singe you like last week.”
Rubbing at the scar on your shoulder from being too slow, you recall how intense, hot, devastating his flames truly are. He joked about it yet his eyes flickered to where you massaged the new red scar peeking from your shirt, lips pressed together and you saw the uncertainty, the regret on his face. Not wanting him to feel guilt over something that already healed, you swatted him, “I would have pushed you into the nasty pond if you did.” He blinked then laughed, a deep and carefree sound that brought a smile on your face. “I’m fine, Tou, promise. Now seriously, let’s go home so I can shower.”