Chapter Text
Sero Hanta opens his eyes, feeling the familiar roughness of grime on his eyes. The sun is oppressively bright on Winter mornings. He’s been on the streets for about a year, fighting to survive. A rough gust of wind comes, making him shudder. His teeth are chattering, the hair on his arms firmly erect. He stands up up, wobbling a bit. He has had something to eat yesterday, a bit of raw rice.
It should be enough to last today in terms of hunger. How is he supposing to get out of this blistering cold?
He walks through the streets, keeping close to walls and shadows to prevent being seen. Police and anyone with a “good” heart would immediately take him to foster. And he couldn’t go there… not after what he’s heard. Rats everywhere, illness like a wildfire, worse food than raw rice. He couldn’t go there.
He comes to a more desolate area, which he recognizes as the rich part of Musutafu. It’s silent, everyone in their homes. Their warm, toasty, comforting homes. Oh how Hanta always yearns for it.
As he’s walking behind one house, concealed by the trees behind it, he can feel something. Toasting warm, or at least slivers of it.
He thinks: ”Fuck it” and presses himself in a small crevice. The wood is charred, burnt away, but who is he to complain? This is the warmest he felt in weeks! He is feeling pure bliss until a mean stomach pain jolts him out.
He closes his eyes, slaving off his hunger for a bit longer. Sleep is the escape from life.
—-----
Todoroki Shouto closes his eyes, feeling the familiar smoothness of his tears. He retches on the ground in front of that man. Endeavor. #2 Pro Hero, civilian life saver, the coolest hero to ever live. Or his father.
He hears that chilling voice, telling him to stand. To try harder. To do better. But all he can do is cry.
Father turns his head, walking out the door. Before he does, he pauses.
“You’re pathetic”
Shouto is left there as he lets those words ring in his ears. He falls to his knees, sweating from the heat of this room. Oh how he always yearns for some chill, but that man put his ice on “rest” so they can focus on fire.
He crawls to the window, pressing his face against it for chill. He opens it, sticking his face out. Oh, how he wishes to leave. To run away from training. But that would be running away from Nii-san and Natsu-san.
—-
Hanta sees someone opening the window, realizing he is fully exposed. He prays that someone didn’t see him…