What is a good father? Well, a good father is one that cares about others, one that respects the wishes of those under their care, and most impostantly, one that makes any place feel like home. The real question then is what counts as being a bad father? For people like Todoroki, the answer might pertain to one that is cruel and unforgiving, one that wishes and in most cases, succeds, controlling their family's every move as if they are mere chess pieces. For Midoriya, the answer might fall underneath a father that is, above all else, distant. A father that forgets his child, to Midoriya and many others, is one that should recieve a much less savory title. For Hitoshi, every single one of these are the right answers, and they all apply to him. To him, at the very least, these qualities when seperate makes people who mst definitely should not be in possesion of anything, much less a living human. But these qualities when together? Now, that is what a truly terrible parent is.
His own father, under all circumstance, would tick all the boxes. Just like every other crumbling family, no one ever realised just how bad things got at home. Because at home, his father's actions would be hidden behind closed curtains. Outside was the exception in which his father's dignity kept Hitoshi safe and sound. And yet, that didn't stop the worst from happening. The worst, for our little Hitoshi, was when his father smiled. For others, this might be something worth celebrating. For him, it was the calm before the storm. A smile promised a bleak future filled with hurt and pain. People say that nothing lasts forever, and though that may apply to storm clouds and bouts of sadness, it too applied to the best things about living. A day's worth of laughs and jokes, of nights filled to the brim with warm hugs, did not last forever, as all things didn't. There would be grins all around one second and then the next-
There would be hurt.
Something would happen, whether it be another squabble between Hitoshi's parents, the loud bark of a street dog or even some particularly rowdy neighbours, and then there would be hurt. So much hurt. His father would go from a good father, to the worst kind. As per Hitoshi's reasonings, THIS was the absolute worst type of father. At least for kids like Todoroki, there would be a pattern to follow and telltale signs to read. At least, the world was on their side when it came to time. At least, they had years to build up thick skin and to sharpen their words as if they were weapons in preperation to fight fire with fire. Hitoshi had no such luck. Enough time with something and anyone can learn to adapt, but how do you adapt to something too inconsistant to even begin to understand? The short answer is, you don't. You sit there and take it like an obediant dog. And even if the hurt keeps growing until you're sure you've experienced every type of hurt possible, you'll sit and hold back your tears because tears only promise more hurt and in the big picture, can only mean submission.
And if you're Hitoshi, then you would never submit.
In the long run, you might reason, it's beneficial. No one can hurt you if you've already experienced hurt at the most extreme right?
Hitoshi has a lifetime's worth of mental wounds to prod at, and even if his dad has turned most of them raw with his stabs, there are still handfuls to use against him. For example, even at his worst, Hitoshi had never been insulted by his dad for his Quirk. Apparently, even the worst of people have their own set of morals. At school, there is no such liberty. The kids make fun of his Quirk and call him a villain, but to him, that is not the worse thing. Being called a villain implies that he has a certain set of traits or characteristics that make him ideal to play the role of a person who's unique to the rest of the world, one that has motives to change the world, for better or worst. At least as a villain, he still maintains his individuality and his own dreams, albeit not good ones. He'd much rather be Shinsou Hitoshi, the boy with the villain quirk, than Shinsou Hitoshi, the boy with no self. In this case, his Quirk was his weapon, because with it, he'd never become his father. His father, who didn't have a quirk like his. His father, who had hundreds of thousands of states.
Hitoshi would always remember. He would always rememeber every emotion his father had every displayed and every word he'd ever said, whether it be something encouriging that made Hitoshi feel all warm and tingly or something that left him broken. There were so many. There was angry father, thet spat poison and made even the loveliest flowers feel repelling and disgusting. There was distant father, that ignored every word Hitoshi ever said and made him feel like a tiny ant, soinsignificant and useless. There was expectant father, that stacked worlds of expectations and hopes on Hitoshi's shoulders and made sure that the consequences for falling below them would leave him reeling for days. But most important, was good father, the one that gave him tastes as to what a functioning family would be like only to rip it all away the moment Hitoshi got hooked to the affection.
It was a game of manipulation. One that made Hitoshi feel like he was spinning circles. And a key player of this game, one that was a make it or break it card for Hitoshi, was his own mother. His sweet mother, who had held him when he needed a place to cry, who talked his father out of a blind rage whenever it happened, who was his everything. His mother, who was also too busy to help and who turned on him in the end. The one that lost him the game when the incident occured.
The incident. It was the thing that really did him in. Out of everything, it was the dog and the incident. The dog, that Hitoshi had wanted since he was a toddler because loneliness was a friendless boy's worst enemy. And a friendless boy he was. The dog that Hitoshi finally got when he turned 11, the dog that was a ball of fluff and energy, that bounded around his room and barked at him when he felt sad. The same dog that he'd named and fed and petted and loved at every moment of the day. So when his dad threatened to disown his little puppy, it was everything. The real problem was not a missing dog. It was what a missing dog meant for them. Because despite his dad's words, the dog had been the one thing that brought his family together and the one that would tear them all apart. A dog had given something to talk of when the sience stretched too long. Without it, they would be thrown all the way back to square one, which meant those days of smiles and laughs and cuddle would be over.
Hitoshi didn't want that.
He wanted to keep going on with a happy family and even the gull to claim he has a fortunate childhood, because when compared to the orphans and the beaten, he did. He may have said that the real problem wasn't the dog, but it was, admittedly. He would miss it, and the good memories it carried. Days of silent walks and of rooms filled with the soft whining of a puppy that hated to see Hitoshi upset, even more so of the days when the tears came rushing and so did the dog. So he memorised the way the little pup's fur felt pressed against his palm, and the sounds it made when he gave it belly rubs. But in the end, none of it mattered, just like how he didn't matter in the big picture.
One day, he woke up and there were no happy barks.
The dog was gone.
He remembers just how happy his parents were.
Nothing was the same after that. Hitoshi went back to being the lonely boy, except there was no ball of affection that would smother him with its tongue later. He was the only one left once more. So when he'd finally gotten into UA's hero course, he was estatic that he would have a second chance at friendship. And he did. He made friends that he would die for and who he knew would do the same for him. He became a hero and he lived the life he always wanted, far away from his parents.
But then, his father died.
He was invited to the funeral, of course, and was expected to give a nice speech about his father just as it would go if he had not let his hatred of his father burn so violent and so bright.
But, unlike if he had not wished for his father's death the day prior, Hitoshi opened his mouth with the intent of tarnishing his father's reputation. No, not tarnishing, completely destroying. He wanted to make sure his father went down in history not as an actually father, but as a fertile monster. He wanted the world to know just how terrible his father had been when he was alive, and just how horrible he still was in death. He lived on, not in Hitoshi's heart, but in the trauma he pertained because of him. So yes, Hitoshi wanted his father to be completely ruined, even in his coffin. He opened his mouth, ready to reveal it all-
"He was a good father."