Chapter 3 — The Worth of a Flame
The private ambulance arrived in record time — much faster than Aoi imagined the public healthcare system could ever manage. Of course, when Japan's Number Two Hero made a call, systems moved faster. Red tape disappeared. Roads cleared. Protocols bent.
Endeavor was, as expected, the first to board. Always at the center. Always in command. He stepped up into the vehicle like a war general, head held high, jaw set, expression carved in stone. His wide shoulders filled the doorway as he carried Shoto in his arms — not like a father holding a child, but like a man cradling a newly-won trophy. A gold medal made of flesh and power.
Behind him came Rei, quieter, more delicate, but no less important. Her movements were careful and motherly, her arms wrapped gently around Aoi. His tiny body still glowed faintly, surrounded by small, flickering blue flames that hovered like magical fireflies in the dim interior of the ambulance. They didn't burn. They didn't scorch. They simply danced, weightless and calm.
Aoi's eyes were wide, but not from fear. It was the confused awe of someone who had just discovered that catching fire didn't mean the end — it meant the beginning.
"Well," he whispered softly to himself, "at least now I know I'm not just decoration in someone else's story."
The hospital was already prepared. No delays. No waiting rooms. No paperwork.
A private wing. State-of-the-art. Built with funds funneled directly from U.A. and hero research grants. After all, when Endeavor produced children, they weren't just kids — they were potential weapons, investments, "projects."
Shoto went in first.
Technicians moved quickly, attaching sleek sensors, initiating DNA scans, activating thermal readers. A large holographic display filled the room with glowing readouts and graphs. It hadn't even finished calculating when the doctor grinned.
"Half fire, half ice. Full bilateral control. Massive potential."
Endeavor gave a slow, satisfied smile — that smug sideways grin that oozed arrogance. The kind of smile that said I was right all along.
"Excellent. The perfect fusion. He'll surpass All Might."
He turned to Rei, almost gloating, voice filled with conviction.
"He's the key. The next Number One."
Still in his mother's arms, Aoi just watched. No jealousy. No envy. Just… that familiar sting — like a tiny invisible splinter in your foot. Not enough to scream, just enough to remind you it's there.
Congratulations on your "project," Dad, Aoi thought, eyes half-lidded. Just don't forget there's another kid literally on fire in the corner of the room.
Soon enough, it was his turn.
Same room. Same devices. Same sensors and beeping.
The machine scanned him from head to toe. Warm lights passed over his skin. Monitors flashed. Data processed. And then, the screen displayed his results in clean, clinical font.
Quirk: Advanced Cellular Regeneration
Energy Source: Internal Blue Flames
Flames produce no external heat
Regenerative abilities: both passive and active in response to physical trauma
The doctor leaned forward, intrigued. His brows rose.
"Huh… this is quite unusual. He generates fire, but it's not for attack. It doesn't produce heat. His body uses it to repair itself — almost like a phoenix. Instead of fighting, he burns to survive. It's… beautiful, really."
Rei blinked, surprise etched across her face.
"A regeneration quirk… That's not common, right?"
"Extremely rare," the doctor replied, crossing his arms. "And to see it tied to flames? That's practically unheard of. This could become an elite support ability — if trained properly, of course."
From the back of the room, Endeavor scoffed, arms crossed, expression sour.
"Hmph. And what's he going to do with that? Float around glowing while a villain levels a city block? That's not how you beat All Might."
Rei turned her eyes toward him. Cold. Sharp. If her stare were a quirk, the room would've turned to ash. But she stayed silent. As she always did.
Aoi didn't even blink.
Of course. You want the next All Might. And if it's not offensive — if it doesn't punch through walls — then it's worthless. Doesn't matter if it's rare, miraculous, even beautiful. If it doesn't explode, you don't see it.
But Aoi wasn't naive.
He knew exactly how this world worked. Heroes with non-combat quirks were backup. Tools. Afterthoughts. Unless your quirk was strategic like Eraserhead's erasure or Recovery Girl's healing, you were just another colorful body in the background.
Still… quirks evolved.
Maybe, someday, his flames would heal others. Maybe they'd shield instead of destroy. Or maybe… they'd do something no one expected.
For now, though, it was clear what the world would call him:
> The Healing Hero.
The one who watches from the sidelines. The one who stays behind. The one who only shows up after the smoke clears.
"Great," he thought sarcastically. "The guy who needs a babysitter to survive. So inspiring. Just what every kid dreams of."
He closed his eyes slowly, tuning out the equipment sounds.
No… I want to be the one who creates the good news. Not the one waiting to hear it from the command center. I'll be the one who shapes it — who changes everything.
---
Outside, a car was already waiting.
Efficient. Quiet. Sleek.
Endeavor climbed into the front seat without a glance at anyone. His voice barked out orders before the door had even shut.
"Shoto begins training in two weeks. I want a separate facility, temperature-controlled, and a resistance routine set daily."
Rei, still holding Aoi gently in her arms, looked up and asked softly:
"And what about Aoi?"
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
Endeavor didn't even turn fully. Just shifted his head slightly — enough to speak, not enough to see.
"He can play all he wants. With a power like that… he doesn't need training."
Aoi leaned his head against his mother's shoulder.
And smiled.
Because in that moment, something clicked inside him.
He had been discarded.
And that — that was freedom.
He threw me away. Perfect, Aoi thought. Now he won't interfere. I'll train on my own. I'll find a way that fits me. I don't know what it looks like yet… but I'll forge it myself. In this world of heroes and villains, I'll carve my own path.
The blue flames glimmered faintly in his eyes, flickering like stars beneath the ocean.
It wasn't the fire of a hero.
It was the fire of someone who would change everything.
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