Chapter 4 — The Path Burned by Will
As soon as they returned home, Endeavor was practically vibrating with excitement. He stormed into the house like a man possessed, muttering to himself with fire in his veins and obsession in his heart.
He moved around the living room like a child on the morning of their birthday — fists clenched, eyes sharp, energy wild. It wasn't joy. It was something darker. Victory. Possession. The smug, twisted thrill of knowing your plan was finally taking root.
"Finally… my strategy to surpass the Symbol of Peace is bearing fruit," he muttered with pride, more to himself than anyone else.
Behind him, the house came alive with footsteps and voices. The other children, drawn by the energy, rushed toward Shoto, who stood quietly in the center of the room.
"Shoto! What's your quirk?"
"Do you use fire? Or ice?"
"Come on, show us! Show us!"
The boy didn't hesitate. He raised his hands, small but steady, and the air responded. From his left hand, ice bloomed like flowers across the air, cold and sparkling. From his right, a stream of fire danced upward, warm and alive. Two opposite forces coexisting in one small body.
The children gasped and cheered, clapping as if they were watching a fireworks show.
Rei stood to the side, quiet. A gentle smile played on her lips — the kind of smile a mother wore when her child was praised. But her eyes… they told a different story.
> "Enji is going to pressure Shoto… and he's still just a child."
In the farthest corner of the room, Aoi watched the display. He didn't speak. Didn't move. Just watched. For a few moments.
And then, without a word, he turned around and walked away.
He stepped onto the back veranda. The soft golden rays of the setting sun bathed the world in a warm glow. The sky burned orange and red like a painting on fire. He sat down slowly, his arms resting on his knees, eyes lost on the horizon.
There was weight in his chest… but fire in his mind.
"If I can't figure out how to get stronger… there's no point even dreaming about confessing to my girls in this world," he muttered, half-laughing to himself. "Momo, Ochako, Nejire… girls like you deserve someone who can stand tall. Someone who doesn't disappear after the first punch."
His head dropped a little, frustration tightening in his throat.
"If I can't even protect myself… what right do I have to say I'll protect anyone else?"
He closed his eyes, trying to breathe. The wind whispered gently. Somewhere inside the house, laughter echoed — not cruel, but distant. Like another world.
"Okay… think," he said to himself. "What do I have that no one else has? What can I do that no one else in this world can?"
He focused. He sharpened his thoughts like a blade.
"I'm a reincarnated soul. I have memories of another world. Anime. Manga. Stories of legends… But what does that mean if I can't use it?"
He fell silent.
And then, like a bolt of lightning, the idea struck.
"Wait… my flames heal me. Regeneration."
He sat up straighter, the pieces falling into place in his mind like puzzle blocks.
"And the rule of physical training is simple: you break your muscles, they rebuild stronger. What if… I use my regeneration to train like a lunatic? Push myself past the human limit every single day? No rest. Just growth."
His lips curled into a grin. The kind of grin a mad genius wears before doing something no one's ever done.
"Like Baki. Like Yujiro. Like Garp and Might Guy. Even that bald cheat-code Saitama. Their power wasn't magic. It was training — raw, intense, relentless training."
He jumped to his feet.
Something lit up inside him, deeper than his blue flames. Something ancient. Determined. Human.
If a normal person tried this, he thought, their bones would turn to soup in hours. But me? I've got regeneration. And that ridiculous understanding that lets me recreate anything I've seen in anime… all from memory and logic.
He clenched his fist tightly.
"This isn't ninjutsu. This isn't energy blasts. This is physical. Real. As long as I have a body… I can grow. As long as I can stand up again… I'll never stop."
His arm shot into the sky, fist pointed upward like a declaration to the heavens.
"All Might… the Number One Hero of this world…"
"I, Aoi Todoroki, will surpass you."
"I will become the strongest man alive."
"So that my back can be the shield for those I want to protect."
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At that moment, inside the house, Rei realized Aoi wasn't among the children. A familiar worry crept into her heart. She moved quietly through the hallway, searching, her footsteps filled with a mother's fear.
Would she find him sitting alone? Crying? Forgotten in the shadow cast by Shoto's blazing light?
But when she stepped onto the veranda… she froze.
Aoi was standing there.
Not slouched. Not hidden. Not small.
He stood tall, his back straight, his fist raised, eyes glowing with something no one had expected: conviction.
No tears.
No bitterness.
Only fire. Bright. Unshakable. Chosen.
Rei's lips parted slightly, but she said nothing.
She didn't need to.
She simply watched, as something inside her stirred — a gentle warmth she hadn't felt in years.
> "He… never once thought about giving up."
For the first time, Rei saw something that Enji, for all his ambition, all his fire, all his obsession… might never see:
> A flame that doesn't destroy… can still burn bright enough to light the way forward.
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