Because I'm rewriting, I'll give you the old start of my new story:
In an ever-changing world, genetics has become the only standard by which strength is measured.
A powerful Quirk is no longer enough.
Without a strong secondary gender or a respected lineage, even the most gifted cannot rise to the rank of Number One Hero.
That is something Todoroki Enji, Japan’s Number Two, knows all too well. No matter how fiercely he burns, he has never been able to surpass the man above him.
The Number One Hero - All Might.
A gryphon-lineage Alpha who has stood at the peak of Japanese hero society for years without challenge.
Wherever disaster strikes, he is already there.
Where fear rises, he stands as its answer.
And so the world has placed its complete trust in him.
For Endeavour, genetics and quirk lineage haven’t been kind - he’s a simple alpha, with a simple fire quirk and a lame kitsune heritage, no matter how many different heritage lines cross the Todoroki name.
So, if he wants to surpass All Might, he’ll have to create the perfect offspring to be powerful enough to take on the powers of Japan’s Number One Hero.
It’s the reason why Touya was born. From the moment he was taken away from Rei, all Endeavour did was train him, obsessing over his potential, if only one glaring problem would be treated - he was born a kitsune.
He wasn’t perfect; he knew that from the start. But, foolishly, he had hoped that his fire would be enough for his father to be proud of him, to recognise his strength and determination and perseverance.
“Dad!” A young Touya, barely past his fourth birthday, ran across the room, vulpine ears and tail fluffed up after the bath. “Look what I can do!”
A small, whitish flame flickered over his hand, lighting up the darkened room. Enji, whose face was illuminated, was pulled into a sinister smile.
“Good, Touya. It looks good,” he grinned and grabbed his arm, pulling him away from his mother, who looked scared for a moment.
“We can finally start your training then.”
Looking back at this smile on Endeavour’s face, Touya couldn’t see any warmth in it, only cold calculation and obsession. It was no victory, rather the beginning of his end.
Young Touya never thought about the harsh reality, too young, too naive to see behind the facade that his father brought tight around his face. The monster behind his father’s face was ugly, violent and vicious.
When the first burn marks on his skin appeared, Endeavour glared at nothing, not understanding what had caused his son to receive such marks.
Then came the results of some intense testing, revealing Touya’s incompatibility with his own quirk. For a moment, his world froze before continuing on, as if nothing ever happened.
For Touya, nothing changed - he still trained in secret, hoping to direct Endeavour’s attention away from his siblings, so that harm wouldn’t find the three younger kits.
For some years, it worked, until he was thirteen, Fuyumi twelve, Natsuo eight and Shouto five. It was when Touya wanted to show off his newest development to Endeavour.
He wanted Endeavour to see f̵̢̻͈̫̬̻͔̘̞͈̆̇̍̈̌͊ͅŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓r̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠ s̴̹̀̎̇͗̍͗̾̋̏̈͐͒̕͠͠ͅẃ̸̝̝̰͋͒ǎ̴̯̀͠y̶͔͗i̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝ǧ̷̡̟̲̹̩̱͉̮̭͇͚̮̖̟̽̓͊̔̓̕ ẃ̸̝̝̰͋͒i̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝ǧ̷̡̟̲̹̩̱͉̮̭͇͚̮̖̟̽̓͊̔̓̕s̴̹̀̎̇͗̍͗̾̋̏̈͐͒̕͠͠ͅ, ǎ̴̯̀͠ ǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ẃ̸̝̝̰͋͒l̶̬̞͎̖͉̹̝͕̝͖̣̉͆y̶͔͗ ǧ̷̡̟̲̹̩̱͉̮̭͇͚̮̖̟̽̓͊̔̓̕r̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅẃ̸̝̝̰͋͒ǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝ tail u̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓ǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝d̶̡̲̗̼̮̤̤̳̲͖͓͍͔͓̓̎̽́̽̏̐͂̆͆͘͘͘ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝r̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠ǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ǎ̴̯̀͠t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ ḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝i̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅs̴̹̀̎̇͗̍͗̾̋̏̈͐͒̕͠͠ͅ ṽ̵͇̟̺̣͓̰̭̲̼̻̪̩̰͒̓̿̄̾̔̊͝ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓l̶̬̞͎̖͉̹̝͕̝͖̣̉͆p̴̩͙̺̩͓̣͈͖̎ͅi̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝, ǎ̴̯̀͠ǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝d̶̡̲̗̼̮̤̤̳̲͖͓͍͔͓̓̎̽́̽̏̐͂̆͆͘͘͘ t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ flames t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ǎ̴̯̀͠t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅ s̴̹̀̎̇͗̍͗̾̋̏̈͐͒̕͠͠ͅl̶̬̞͎̖͉̹̝͕̝͖̣̉͆ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅẃ̸̝̝̰͋͒l̶̬̞͎̖͉̹̝͕̝͖̣̉͆y̶͔͗ d̶̡̲̗̼̮̤̤̳̲͖͓͍͔͓̓̎̽́̽̏̐͂̆͆͘͘͘r̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠i̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅp̴̩͙̺̩͓̣͈͖̎ͅ f̵̢̻͈̫̬̻͔̘̞͈̆̇̍̈̌͊ͅr̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅm̵̢͕̫̓̔͑̊̈ t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ f̵̢̻͈̫̬̻͔̘̞͈̆̇̍̈̌͊ͅë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ǎ̴̯̀͠t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝r̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠s̴̹̀̎̇͗̍͗̾̋̏̈͐͒̕͠͠ͅ.
Endeavour only had to come to Ś̸͙̺̥̰̯͙̭͆̏͂ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝k̵̘̺̦͉͖̪̪͖͉͊̆̔́̈́̍̃̈́͒̂̑̀̚͜͝ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅt̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅ P̷̛̛̛̩̺͇̊̅̍͂͗͑͐̎̂̏̐̐ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ǎ̴̯̀͠k̵̘̺̦͉͖̪̪͖͉͊̆̔́̈́̍̃̈́͒̂̑̀̚͜͝. It shouldn’t have been this complicated.
“So, you’re telling me that my memories have shattered?” His voice, deeper than before, texture too rough, asks the sunflower-man in front of him.
“Sadly, yes,” Haruaki smiled gently, carefully touching his head. “You’ll have to stay here with us, me and the other smiley kids. We’ll be one big family and-”
“I’m sorry,” he sighed, his back hurting, “but I think I remember that my family is waiting for me.”
“They’re no longer waiting,” a voice interrupts his hopes, coming from a TV conveniently placed on the table next to him. “Your family moved on long ago. Poor child, forgotten in just three years-”
“Then you don’t know my family,” Touya, insistent, crosses his arms.
