A Dragon's Heart // Shoto Todoroki x Reader

Chapter 23: Origin

8 years ago, before the fire

The cage, it was what they gave me instead of a bed. They locked me in the prison every night. I wasn't sure why, but probably because they were afraid I would hurt them in their sleep. And they were right—I would jump at the chance to harm them in any way.

Moonlight beamed through the open window they left, cold air seeping into the lonely room. A flurry of darkness and cold air tied together like two threads of string, constricting against my skin, leaving me nothing but malice inside. My heart quickened at the thought of my foster parents' faces. I pounded the metallic bars of the cage around me. My bones and ligaments groaned in agony, but it felt good to feel something other than fury. I continued to bash the metal poles trapping me, causing the entire cage to vibrate. Eventually, one of the metal bars snapped, to my surprise.

I peered down at my bloodied arm. In the moonlight, I could barely see my skin, but the smell of blood was permanently embedded in my brain. My fingers traced along the skin of my injured arm; the texture felt different—harder. I raised an eyebrow as I used my hardened arm to remove the rest of the metal bars easily.

Was this my quirk?

I should have been elated, excited as any kid discovering they had superpowers. But it revolted me. My stomach churned with fury. Rising out of the cage, I glanced at the open window. I could escape right now, right here. I could be free. But I had other plans. I strode out of the empty room, my eyes adjusting to the dimly lit hallway. My foster parents had left the lights on, allowing me to see my quirk in action. My hardened skin resembled scales, covering my entire body.

"The brat escaped the cage. Fix it," I heard my foster mother say from the distance.

"I wonder how. Did we forget to lock her cage?" my foster father replied, his footsteps getting closer. He appeared in the neck of the hallway, staring me down. He narrowed his eyes at me and walked toward me. Without saying a word, he grabbed the material of my shirt and began dragging me down the hallway, back to my prison.

I dug my fingers into the floorboards, which screeched in agony. I winced as my nails broke. No, this is over. To both our surprise, we halted. My foster father and I peered down at my fingers to see black claws instead of nails.

"Would you look at that, the brat finally got her quirk. We should tell the boss; maybe he'll have a use for her," my foster father said.

"The boss came over yesterday to meet her, and today she gets a quirk? He must be good luck or something," my foster mother chimed.

"Lucky you, Amara. Looks like you have uses after all," my foster father smiled, a fake smile that twisted my stomach in anger.

"I'll kill you," I growled, kicking my foster father's arm off me and shooting up. I didn't understand my quirk at all, but for the first time in my life, I felt like I had an advantage.

"You won't. Just go back to bed," my foster father ignored me as he tried to drag me again. I gritted my teeth, and suddenly, I felt a sensation I'd never felt before: power. Electric blue currents circled my arms and fingers, crackling protectively around my body.

Two quirks? How is this possible!?

"Amara, I'm so proud of you! You have two quirks. The master will be most pleased indeed!" my foster father continued, but I noticed his large hands were shaking.

"I don't care about your master," I said through gritted teeth. I wished I had time to figure out my quirk, but I tried anyway. Raising a pointed finger at my foster father, I concentrated on the electricity I felt. Electric blue veins cultivated in the center of my arm before exploding out of the pores of my hand. My foster father screamed in anguish. I peered down to see the sobbing mess of my abuser, his arm severed.

"You bitch!" my foster mother shrieked. I turned to see her looming over me. She raised a hand and slapped me hard. Pain stung at my cheek, but the disappointment in her gaze only made me angrier. My body acted before my brain could. "You've been very naughty, foster mother. I think your punishment should be the freezer," I chuckled manically. Shards of ice formed around my skin at first, before a stream of blue ice swirled in a flurry around me. It froze the entirety of the hallway we stood in, trapping my foster mother's feet in place.

Was this ice? Electricity and ice? What is my quirk!?

"What the fuck is this?" my foster mother shuddered.

"Well, you wanted a monster, didn't you?" I grinned at her. "Here I am." I sent my ice around her, growing from her feet up. Her body became completely covered in a crystal lattice of beautiful ice, her grotesque, ugly scowl frozen in place.

She was gone. I wasn't sure if it was the frozen temperatures or the inability to breathe that killed her, but somehow I heard her heartbeat come to an end. One more victim left. I turned, expecting to see my foster father unconscious, but instead, I saw the deep crimson red of blood frozen from my ice. My dark eyes scanned the frozen hallway, finding a faint trail of blood. I frowned but followed it anyway, taking a left at the end of the hallway. I heard muscles contract beside me in the shadows before my foster father lunged at me, wielding a frying pan. It hit my head painfully, causing me to stumble backward.

"You bitch, what have you done!?" my foster father screeched as he recoiled the frying pan, his eyes smoldering with rage. He would kill me.

"I've done nothing you haven't already done to me," I reiterated, bracing for his attack. Except—I felt nothing. I heard the frying pan dent against my hardened flesh but felt no pain. My quirk must have activated without me noticing. My foster father thrashed like a beast, letting out an inhuman scream as he lunged at me. Dropping the frying pan, he tackled me and wrapped his giant remaining hand around my gaunt neck. My small hands flailed in vain; he was much stronger than me.

My heart raced as my lungs began to burn. I flailed and squirmed, trying to shake him off. My hands reached for his face, scratching his skin. I felt his skin cells slide beneath my nails, but they weren't sharp enough to hurt him. Black spots greeted me, clouding my vision.

I was going to die.

My arms went numb, but I swiped my hand in a last attempt to defend myself. A thin red line appeared first on his neck, small beads of blood falling onto my face. I saw the look of confusion flood his soulless eyes. His life blood cascaded down from the incision my black claws had made, saturating me. I heard him gurgle and choke on his own blood, his body convulsing as life left him. He felt heavy, too heavy. I couldn't breathe again. I hardened my skin and breathed in a mouthful of air, sliding out from under the dead beast.

I was finally free. My abusers were dead.

I ambled down the hallway, almost slipping on the pool of his blood. Placing my hand on the wall to steady myself, I saw small flames appear from my hand. I quickly snapped my hand away, but it was too late. The fire had traveled onto the wooden structure of the wall. It started as a small ember, but it grew into a wildfire within seconds, devouring this section of the hallway within minutes. I found myself running away in fear.

Was that fire? Can I do fire as well!? What is happening!?

Tears of frustration stung my eyes. I had just managed to free myself from this hell, and now I was going to die in this damned house. The fire crackled loudly behind me, reminding me of my impending demise.