Sign of Broken Things

Chapter One

Rain poured from thick dark clouds that wept in heavy sheets. Darkness concealed the world that flooded in sorrow. But, what had earned the Heavens' tears was the quiet cry of a child that had almost been drowned out by the booming sound of thunder.

He laid in a ball down an alleyway hidden away from the street. The downpour drenched his white hair down to his forehead and his clothes to his cold body.

Toya clenched his chest and sobbed. He squeezed his eyes shut and began to pray, an alternate option to piecing his thoughts together. His heart was beating so fast that he believed it would explode.

It was late, it had been several hours since he'd gone to the ground to cry.

Just like he'd just done, he would close his eyes and would momentarily forget what he had witnessed. Then he opened his eyes again and remembered it and relived it all over and over until he repeated the cycle.

What reminded Toya of horrible flashbacks was watered down blood that ran down the wall directly across from the traumatized boy. It pooled in the alley and soaked into Toya's clothes and parts of his hair. The smell was nauseating, sickening. A terrible stench of death burned his nose, but he'd grown used to it by then.

Toya desperately clawed at the ground, like it would reverse the crime that had occurred in that same alleyway. He felt weak and tired. His hand throbbed and felt hot. The boy's hand was scorched, so much so that he could identify each thump of his heart in his burnt fingers.

All he wanted was to unlive the scene and his brother.

None of it seemed to be real. He didn't want it to be. The child couldn't comprehend any of it, to do so would be to admit that Tokei was dead.

He couldn't remember a moment they had spent apart. Tokei followed him everywhere. Now, it seemed, he'd spend every second from then on without him.

It was killing him . . .

"I'm–" he gasped through his hiccups, "I'm sorry . . ." Toya started to choke on his snot and the taste of death that entered his mouth. "It's my fault–" Understandably, he was angry that there had been nobody to help as his brother was brutally slaughtered. "Please, forgive me!" He cried. "I'm so sorry!"

Toya couldn't help but wonder if he could have prevented Tokei's murder if only he'd just kept his temper under control.

Earlier that same day . . .

Rather irritated, Tokei limped between trees as he rubbed his boney fingers. He scanned through the branched and over smoothed rocks, he was scouring for somebody in particular.

He had known they were somewhere in the forest. What he didn't know was how his decision to go there that day would forever change his life.

A light breeze stirred, storm clouds followed.

Tokei quietly grumbled to himself his distaste of getting caught out in the rain. An important distinction was that he actually loved the rain, he just didn't like getting wet. "It was cold" was always his explanation.

Under a kilometer from the Todoroki Household was Sekoto Hill where Toya would semi-secretly, and dangerously, train his quirk.

The younger Todoroki twin rode his bike to the base of the hill just like he'd done so hundreds of times and began his trek up the actual slope in his usual search for his brother. That walk was something that had begun to disgust him. He'd been aware that Toya would go up to Sekoto, and that September day had been no exception. The first born son had done that since the boys were four years old. For six years, Tokei would follow his brother to protect and cool his brother. He resigned himself to that fate.