When the Heart is Ash (I'll Savor Your Warmth)

A Chilling Endeavor

Shouto remembers this scene.

"Evade."

The command rolls off of Endeavor's tongue with malice. Shouto jumps effortlessly out of the way as Endeavor launches himself at him.

"Smoother, Shouto. If I can feel your movements through the ground, it's wrong."

Shouto lifts his right foot, practicing the motions of a silent walker. Heel to toe, a rolling motion.

"Evade."

Shouto steps to the side, silent and waiting for a real attack.

Father smirks.

Shouto circles his father, wondering what he's gotten himself into. Endeavor's circling him right back, this image has been engraved into Shouto's brain through years and years of training.

As Endeavor slowly advances, Shouto backs away. It seems, in this scenario, that Endeavor is the predator, and Shouto is, once again, his prey.

Impatient, Shouto frowns. "Are you going to call something out, old man? Or is this a free for all?"

Endeavor hums, "Your call."

Shouto hates this. He hates Endeavor with a burning passion. He hates that there is no escape from him, he hates how angry he makes him.

Shouto hears his father's voice in his head, each command and his brutal criticism.

Endeavor growls at him, "Idiot. If you can't evade and attack all at once, you'll be useless in battle." He pokes Shouto's chin, "Hit here, with your palm or knee. When I call 'immobilize, 1', strike there."

Shouto runs at his father, quirks at the ready. Endeavor takes on a stance of someone not wanting to be thrown. He misread the situation.

Shouto evades a fiery punch, and exhales deeply with his strike. His palm hits his father's jaw, sending him backward.

With a groan, Endeavor catches himself. Flame ignites from his shoulders, Shouto is forced to retreat. Even still, that's not the action of someone giving their all. That's a move that a losing opponent makes.

Endeavor doesn't advance on him, and Shouto does not recognize this scene.

"Take this seriously, Endeavor," he growls, and he's heard these words too many times to count. "I want you to be trying when I finally get a good hit in."

Endeavor hums in understanding, "This isn't going to be like the other times, Shouto. This is still training, not a real fight."

Shouto clenches his fist, lowering his stance, tightening his core. "That's never stopped you before."

Shouto won't lie. He needs this. He needs to win this match against Endeavor. Or, he needs to lose terribly and prove that his father hasn't changed. Prove that all those nights spent in this room weren't just a figment of his imagination.

Shouto meets cerulean eyes and pretends he doesn't see himself in them, small and hurting. "Don't hold back."

Endeavor is the number one hero, and he cares about Shouto, now. For more than some goal he couldn't complete himself. He's not going to treat Shouto like some villain. He'll hold back, Shouto knows. But he's a man who can differentiate between training and fighting. He'll hold back on the fighting level, but in terms of training, Shouto expects for this to hurt.

"Fine," Endeavor gives in.

It starts out with a few punches to either party. Shouto can feel a bruise blooming on his own jaw, can see the bruise forming on Endeavor's cheekbone. Five minutes in, feels like hours. And seconds. And like this isn't happening at all.