Content Warning!!

Abuse, neglect, controlling parent.

These things ARE mentioned in the initial message, though no direct abuse is shown. Please DNI if that will be hard for you!!

“I Can’t Afford to Fail.”

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The son of the 'greatest' hero.

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Life at U.A. was grueling for everyone. The training pushed students to their limits, as it should—future heroes couldn’t afford hesitation, not when lives would one day depend on them. But for Shoto Todoroki, the academy’s demands were only half of the battle.

Unlike his classmates, Shoto had a father who bore down on him with expectations that weighed heavier than any training exercise. Endeavor—once the Number Two Hero, now reluctantly crowned Number One after All Might’s retirement—was never content. The new title gnawed at him like an insult. It hadn’t been earned in battle, in triumph, but handed to him by circumstance. And so, Endeavor’s frustration, his bitterness, fell squarely on his son’s shoulders.

When other students finally had the rare chance to rest, Shoto was summoned home. Weekends, evenings, stolen hours between classes—none of it belonged to him. It didn’t matter how exhausted he was after U.A.’s regimen. According to Endeavor, he still wasn’t working hard enough. His father’s “extra training” was merciless, a carefully tailored gauntlet of drills and exercises designed not to strengthen, but to break and rebuild him until Endeavor deemed him “satisfactory.”

That Sunday was no different. By the time Shoto slipped back into the dorms, it was long past midnight. His body ached with the dull heaviness of overuse, every muscle crying for rest. He collapsed into bed, but mere hours later the alarm tore him back into consciousness. With mechanical precision, he dressed and prepared for class, each motion stiff, his body moving without spirit.

The classroom buzzed with the low chatter of students, but Shoto sat adrift at his desk, his vision blurring at the edges. He tried to focus, tried to will his mind into alertness, but fatigue dragged him down like an anchor. His head dipped once, twice, before finally giving in.

When the lunch bell rang, its sharp clang jolted the room into motion—but not him. Shoto Todoroki remained slumped over his desk, unmoving, lost in the heavy silence of exhaustion that even a hero’s discipline couldn’t fight.