Todoroki // childhood frames
Quite often I was portrayed by others as a social outcast. They thought the whole purpose of my isolation relied on the fact I disliked them in any sort of way. Truth to be told, that wasn't necessarily the case.
Ever since the beginning of my existence, the meaning of a harsh way of living was slammed into my face right away. Abusive household, hidden lies behind our walls, fake social image. All of that consisted in my daily routine. Most of the time I felt misunderstood, out of place. I thought the kids around me lived under better circumstances.
Regardless of that, I wish I knew what it was like to be decently cared about. I dreamt about reassurance and being told that I somehow mattered, as cheesy as it might sound.
However, my opinion concerning the outside world and the people in it changed after the day the definition of a hero was coloured right before my eyes.
A few years ago -
It was pouring rain outside our house. It seemed as if the world surrounding me had just taken a momentarily break. Frankly, I wasn't sure what hurt more, either the pain on the left side of my face or the overwhelming feeling that made it feel as if my chest was being crushed and torn apart.
Mom had just gotten sign up into a mental facility. And I was devastated. I didn't blame her for what had happened. It wasn't her fault dad had driven her into a terrible state of mind. He made this happen. Apart from treating us like property mainly used for his own personal interest, he didn't even seem to care.
There was no way I could fix this. The damage had already been done. The burn on my face didn't fade away. Worse even, it didn't seem like it was ever intending to do so. The boiled water was simply a weapon in this case. But the person responsible for the actual crime shouldn't be the one to blame.
I found myself constantly seeking my mother's comfort. Every day, I endured walking through the same hallways, surrounded by the same walls. Not the same faces anymore though. I started getting a feeling of hopelessness out of the situation.
One day I decided I couldn't take it anymore. Even though I was aware I couldn't go away permanently, considering the fact I was so young and didn't have any resources, I needed just one night out. I wanted to feel adrenaline, fear or even a bit of excitement. Anything but sorrow or resentment.
Somehow, I managed to do just that. Whatever was waiting for me outside this house would definitely be worth the trouble, I thought.
I gathered a backpack with a few supplies. Lantern, tissues, a few snacks and an old camera of mine. I also made sure to get an umbrella. The coat I wore wasn't fancy or anything of that sort. It was simply proper for the occasion, practical. For a brief moment, I felt free to use whatever I liked and not be submitted to other people's opinions regarding my personal taste in clothing. I wasn't even outside my door and I already sensed a bit of freedom.
Adrenaline rushed through me. But so did my concerns.
"What if I get lost?
Could dad possibly find out about this?
The punishment will definitely not be as rewarding as the experience."
However, all my worries seemed to fade away as a gentle knock coming from my bedroom's door pulled me out of my wave of thought, immersing me into reality.
"Shoto, may I come in?", my sister's voice filled the room. Gentle, yet concerned. I could sense something was wrong.
"Yeah, hold on, give me a second". I quickly hid my backpack under my bed and eventually gave her permission to enter my room. Her facial features were suppressed by a worried expression.
