Like so many other fragmented memories of Shouto’s past, he realizes in that moment that the existence of Snowball had completely escaped him. Given, her residence at the Todoroki estate had been short-lived, but he remembered her all the same. She had been so small and he couldn’t reach her- he might have asked Natsuo, but in the end Touya had been the one to retrieve her.
❝I couldn’t keep her,❞ he mutters. Maybe Fuyumi and Natsuo had kept her a little longer without Enji’s knowledge. He had seldom seen Snowball after his father became aware of her existence. A distraction, he had been told, worth someone else’s time. Shouto sets his shoulders, tries to shake off the feeling of simultaneously burning and freezing at the same time.
Snowball was a fleeting existence that had been taken away; like his mother, like Touya. But Touya had left, because he couldn’t handle their father anymore, because he had no choice, because that disgrace is never to be mentioned again.
Now Shouto stands eye-to-eye with the disgrace, and his stomach feels like it’s being held in a fist as the understanding settles that in another time, another world- that could have been him. Driven by spite and fallen from grace, a name not even whispered in the dark at the estate- how did this ever happen?
❝You want to reconcile.❞ It’s a guess at best and a fear at worst. His stomach tightens in anticipation, heat scorching up his left arm with the threat of combustion. He swallows and pushes his feelings down, squishing them into oblivion until the sensation goes away.
“ah, what a shame”, he responds, “she was such a relief, an angel. you were so happy to have her.” of course it’s because of the disgrace that calls himself a father. of course it’s because of him that they eventually couldn’t keep snowball. he sighs. he hopes that snowball is doing fine, wherever she might be now. he hopes that his mother is fine as well.
he wishes he wouldn’t have run away from the family. but it’s all because of their father. the man who didn’t only use shouto as a tool for his success, but also dabi himself.
reconcile, shouto says. does dabi really want that? does shouto actually want that? “depends”, he answers, “what do you want, outoto? do you want me to disappear again?” now that they have reunited after years, it feels like shouto’s been sitting on the mindset of dabi being a disgrace, a bane of shouto’s very existence.