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Chapter Text

Aizawa Shota wasn’t supposed to have a favorite student. However, like all teachers, as much as they may pretend otherwise, he does.

Todoroki Shouto. 

Aizawa wasn’t looking forward to having Endeavor’s kid in his class initially. Legacy kids were often pompous and arrogant, and that was without Endeavor as a father. Aizawa had to admit that Endeavor was a skilled hero, but he was not a pleasant person to work with. He was loud, rude, and irascible. So Aizawa was expecting a miniature Endeavor to walk into his classroom. 

On paper, Todoroki seemed just like Endeavor, maybe with even more potential. His quirk, Half-Hot Half-Cold, was, quite frankly, almost perfect. He was homeschooled his whole life, but all his tutors report a genius, well behaved student. Todoroki got into UA on recommendation after placing first in the recommendations exam. 

When Todoroki came to class on the first day, Aizawa was surprised. His power didn’t disappoint, he placed first overall in the quirk testing, and was undeniably the most powerful in the class. In terms of raw power, Todoroki had them all beat. What surprised Aizawa was his demeanor. The kid was quieter than anyone he’d ever taught. Todoroki rarely spoke, but his hands were always moving and shifting, making the same shapes over and over.

His silence could be written off as the arrogance he’d expected of a legacy, and so could his icy manner. But Aizawa couldn’t shake the feeling that it was something more.

Perhaps the reason why he favored Todoroki, he reminded him of himself a long time ago. 

Before Touya died, he taught Shouto sign language. They would chatter back and forth at night when Touya was able to sneak into his room, or when Shouto couldn’t talk. Shouto couldn’t  talk a lot. Touya called it his “mute mode,” Endeavor called it stupidity. Shouto called it coping.

After Touya died, Shouto didn’t speak for two years. He communicated solely through JSL. Endeavor hated it. He trained him relentlessly during those years. So much that Shouto could barely remember the years from six to eight, it was all blurs of pain, burns, and heavy loss, missing him.  

He was the one who sparked Shouto’s love for languages. By convincing Endeavor that learning languages would help him once he became a hero, Shouto was able to learn English, Latin, Greek, Spanish, French, Arabic, Mandarin Chinese, Italian, and American Sign Language on his own as well as Japanese Sign Language from Touya. 

He was the one who sneaked him little treats when Endeavor was away, a strawberry lollipop or  mochi. 

He was the one who taught Shouto that fire could be beautiful, could be something other than painful and cruel.

He would make little blue fire lizard tongues peak out of his mouth, and pretend to be a big, bad dragon. 

He was the one who would stand between him and Endeavor, distracting him so Shouto would be left alone. 

He was the one who held him after Mom was taken away, after his world was shattered. 

Shouto didn’t like to talk. Words were hard. They twisted and whirled, poking and prodding. They burned like acid, and lies soothed like a balm on his heart. They struck his heart, and pierced his soul. Shouto didn’t like to wield that weapon. It was too cruel. He’d rather be stabbed by daggers and burned at the stake than use them. 

Hands were easier. He knew that he’d have to talk to be anything or anyone important, but he avoided it whenever possible. 

The first day of UA came too quickly. After walking to UA, Shouto quickly located his class room and sat down at the desk all the way in the right corner. He didn’t like strangers sitting behind him or on his left, since he couldn’t see through his blue eye. 

He was the first one here so he watched as the other students filtered in. There was a tall one with glasses who Shouto vaguely remembered seeing at a hero gala, Iida was it? There was a guy with a tail, a floating girls’ uniform, a blond glittery one, a tiny purple child with ball hair (was he old enough to be in high school?), a stammering green haired boy, and a loud, angry blond.  Yaoyorozu Momo walked in next, she was the other recommendations student and the closest thing Shouto has to a friend. They met years ago at one of the stupid hero parties, and always spent them together since then when he wasn’t forced to Endeavor’s side. 

“Todoroki.” Yaoyorozu nodded in greeting before taking the desk to the right of him. 

“Yaoyorozu.” Shouto managed past the knives in his throat. Thankfully, she doesn’t try to initiate any further conversation, and Shouto can let himself drift again. 

Their homeroom teacher is a strange, yellow, caterpillar man.  His name is Aizawa Shota, and he emerges from a yellow cocoon of a sleeping bag like he does so every day. 

“It took you all eight seconds to shut up. If I were a villain you’d be dead.” 

Aizawa announced that they’ll be skipping the UA opening ceremonies, and the class complained. Shouto just moved. It’s a hero course, of course they won’t be having any “fun.” 

Hands coming for his neck-

Suffocating heat-

Can’t breathe-

No, no no!

I don’t want it-

Pleas-

Stop!

“Today we’ll be having a Quirk Apprehension Test, testing the limits of your quirks. Previously, you haven’t been able to use your quirks in school mandated testing. Today you will.” Aizawa announced.  

“Awesome!” Cheered the blond with a lightning bolt streak of black in his hair.  

“This will be so much fun!” Exclaimed the pick one. 

Shouto scoffed. Being a hero was not fun. It was blood, sweat, tears, crushing, aching loneliness, and-

Get up, Shouto! You can’t be this weak! Any villain would have killed you by now!

“If you are here because you think being a hero will be fun , then I suggest you quit now.  You will not last the next three years.” Aizawa smiled creepily down at them. “These next three years will be some of the toughest of your life.”

Shouto tossed the ball back and forth between his hands, storing both heat and ice within its core. Heat and cold don’t get along, except for when he made them. 

Finally, when he can feel his classmates growing impatient, he draws his right arm back and shoots the ball into the air. 

“1,301 meters.” Aizawa nodded approvingly. Second only to the infinity of gravity girl. The spiky-haired angry one scowled. 

Shouto got first place in the Quirk Apprehension Exam.  Of course he did. It’s not necessarily arrogance, though he knows his quirk is strong and that he is as well. He’s just been trained daily by the #2 hero since he was four, so of course he was better. 

He knew that he was fortunate to be trained like he was. Endeavor told him so every day, and Touya had begged to be trained. So that must mean that something was broken within him for not wanting it. 

(Because training meant pain

deep

aching

endless 

pain.

But Touya wanted that pain.

Wanted to be strong.

So Shouto has to be strong for him. 

The way Touya never got to be.)

The first day of school was easy. A rest even, from the brutal training he’d normally be living thorough, but he couldn’t relax. Around Endeavor, Shouto knew how to act. What to do, what to say, how to push just far enough but not too far. At UA there were too many variables. Too many people he doesn’t know.  Doesn’t know what they’ll do or what they want. So he retreats. Into his mask, behind the walls that have been shattered a thousand times, but are now unbreakable for it. To where he knows nothing can reach. 

Then he heads back to his house. 

Shouto hated his house.

(Not a home, never a home. It hasn’t been a home since Touya died.)

It was cold, all the time. The kind of chill that seeped deep into your bones and never let go. The kind of cold that had nothing to do with temperature, and everything to do with pain. 

“Hi, Shouto.” Fuyumi greeted him tentatively, biting her lip. Fuyumi didn’t live at the house anymore, she’d moved out years ago,  but she visits nearly everyday. Natsuo left as soon as he could too, but he never came back and Shouto hasn’t seen him since. Fuyumi still loved Endeavor, somehow, and wanted them to be a perfect family. 

Like Endeavor didn’t drive Rei crazy, or kill Touya, or train Shouto relentlessly, or neglect Natsuo or Fuyumi for their entire lives. Like Shouto didn’t spend the end of every day bandaging up burns and bruised ribs. 

Shouto just nodded mutely at her,  and walked past to his room. He needed to change into his training uniform and stretch before Endeavor got home or training would just be worse.
The next four hours were hell on earth.

( 4/15/2785- 4h, 11 bruises, 8 burns, 1 fracture. )

Chapter Text

Pretests were a waste of time. Shouto had been learning algebra at ten, and was currently learning multivariable calculus. He’d already become fluent in English as well as a multitude of other languages. Endeavor thought it very important that Shouto knew everything there was to know about the history of quirks, and he could analyze college level texts. 

So Shouto was bored. He’d already finished the English pre-test handed out by Present Mic, and was just staring out through the window. 

“Do you not know the answers, little listener?” Mic asked, Shouto had seen him coming over, but was sincerely hoping he wouldn’t talk to him.  

“No, I finished.” 

Mic looked startled. “You… finished?”

“Yes. I am fluent in English as well as Latin, Greek, Spanish, French, Arabic, Mandarin Chinese, Italian, Japanese Sign Language, and American Sign Language.”

Mic coughed, sounding strangled he said, “What?”

Did he say something wrong? Shouto just shrugs and turns back to the window. 

“Shota!!!!!” Aizawa sighed, he was in the middle of filling out paperwork from last night’s patrol, and he did not have the energy for Mic right now.

“What is it, Hizashi?”  

“It’s Todoroki.” Hizashi managed to appear both thrilled and semi-terrified. “He finished early on his English pre-test, and when I asked him if he didn’t know what to write he told me that he was done! Then he told me that he’s fluent in English, Latin, Greek, Spanish, French, Arabic, Mandarin Chinese, Italian, Japanese Sign Language, and American Sign Language!!!! I don’t know that many languages, Shota!!!!”

“...What?”

“Aizawa. It’s Todoroki.” Ectoplasm interrupted, coming into the teacher’s lounge. “He perfectly aced the mathematics test and the extra credit calculus question! Then he said that he started algebra at ten! Ten!”

“Aizawa.” Called out Cementoss, entering the lounge.

“Let me guess.” Aizawa cut him off with a hand. “It’s Todoroki, and he aced your pre-test at a level of a much higher year?”

“Well,  yes. How did you know?”

“Because,” Aizawa said, rubbing his eyes. “Todoroki apparently knows eleven languages, and calculus. Not to mention his near perfect technique with his quirk.”

“Todoroki, come see me.” Aizawa ordered Shouto after he’d dismissed the rest of the class to go get changed for combat training. Shouto noiselessly rose from his desk and walked up to where Aizawa was standing behind his podium. Shouto waited patiently for him to speak while trying to hide his terror at being alone with a grown man. A man larger and stronger than him, who can cancel his quirk-

“In light of your… mastery of all the subjects we teach, I’d like to test something.” Aizawa said, somehow managing to appear both exhausted and curiously sadistic. Shouto just nodded. He wasn’t supposed to question adults, so he stayed silent but his hands started signing. The same practiced movements. His nervous tic. Signing to wherever Touya was now.  

Aizawa’s eyes flickered down to his hands, and Shouto stopped abruptly. But Aizawa only said, “Well, follow me.” Shouto did.

Todoroki was silent behind him. He hadn’t spoken a word to Aizawa that entire time, and his footsteps were those of a ghost. They made no noise, and Aizawa had to keep glancing behind him to make sure he was still there. 

Aizawa led Todoroki to the gym where the second years were training. They were engaging in one on one spars. He nodded to the teacher who whistled loudly and called for attention. 

“Everybody, listen up! You all know Eraserhead.”

Aizawa stepped forward. “This is Todoroki Shouto. His quirk is Half-Hot Half-Cold, and he will be joining your training today.”

“But, sir, isn’t he just a first year?” Asked a student with bright orange skin, the color of a vibrant sunset.  

“I’m testing something.” Was all Aizawa said. “Everybody line up, and introduce yourselves with your quirks.”

“Who would like to spar with Todoroki first?” Aizawa asked once all the students were dont introducing themselves to Shouto. 

“I will.” Volunteered a boy with shaggy black hair and a cocky smirk. Quirk: Stockpile, Shouto remembered. The ability to stockpile power into harder hits. He reminded Shouto of the explodey one in 1-A. They both radiated an energy that said, I’m better than you and I know it. 

They took up stances across from each other on the sparring mats. His stance is decent, Shouto noted. Not perfect, but good. Shouto shouldn’t give him a chance to store power for his hits. He should hit first, as well as make sure they don’t get into close combat.  While Shouto is quite proficient in close combat, this guy’s quirk is made for it.  

So as soon as Aizawa gave the go ahead, Shouto covered the boy up to his neck in thick white ice. The boy tried to break free, but he was immobilized.

“Well,” Aizawa said, attempting to hide his smirk behind his scarf. “Todoroki wins. Who would like to try next?”

Aizawa watched with a mix of pride, smugness, and a little terror as Todoroki easily beat every student in the class. He could hear the groaning and shock of the second years as they watched their classmates get beaten by an underclassman. 

“What the hell?”

“How is he so good, yet  only a first year?”

“That’s Endeavor’s kid for ya.”

“Yeah, I bet he gets all kinds of special treatment.”

“Man, that’s not fair!”

“Fucking nepotism.”

“I hope you feel more motivated to train now, after being easily beaten by a first year.” Aizawa said, smirking sadistically into his capture weapon. “Maybe, one day, you will reach Todoroki’s level.”

Aizawa looked over  his shoulder to make sure that Todoroki was behind him, and motioned for him to follow. Aizawa nodded goodbye to the stunned teacher before he walked out with the silent ghost that was Todoroki following behind.

Shouto didn’t know what was going on. Aizawa hadn’t really told him what was going on, and Shouto knew better than to ask for clarification. Aizawa had had Shouto fight against all those second years which was rather easy. Shouto had expected them to be more formidable. 

Aizawa led Shouto to a room that Shouto assumed must be his office. It’s rather messy, and a large couch takes up half of the space. Aizawa sat behind the overflowing desk and motioned for Shouto to take the seat opposite him when he didn't move from the doorway. 

Aizawa appeared to be waiting for Shouto to say something, but Shouto had no intention of doing so. Eventually, Aizawa sighed and spoke.

“How would you feel about skipping a grade or two?”

Chapter Text

“What?” Shouto asked, this was not what he had been expecting. Maybe Aizawa would have berated how he didn’t quite manage to dodge one of the purple haired one’s hits or how he’d missed a chance to subdue his opponent in his fifteenth battle.  

“You show exceptional expertise with your Quirk and even Quirkless fighting. Not to mention your fluency in English as well as, allegedly, ten other languages, your college level analysis skills, and mastery of calculus. The first year curriculum doesn’t have anything more to teach you. Neither does the second year curriculum as you just demonstrated. I think it would be beneficial for you to skip to being a third year.” Aizawa said.

“Ho-how would that work?” Shouto managed to choke out, his hands signing out to Touya again. Help. I miss you. Touya. I love you.

“You would train with the third years, but still remain in 1-A. The teachers will get you course supplies for the third year courses, but you’ll learn that while everyone else takes first year classes. We’re not just going to dump you into a class of seventeen to eighteen year olds. You will train with them, though, and  you’ll participate in the third year's Sports Festival.”

“Does Endeavor have to know?” Shouto asked. He didn’t want to give the bastard what he wanted. He killed Touya.

“No… he doesn’t have to be notified, but he’ll likely see you in the third years’ Sports Festival.”

Shouto nodded. He just wouldn’t tell Endeavor that he wouldn’t be in the first year Sports Festival, by the time he figures it out it’ll be too late. 

“...Okay.”

Shouto went home that time to find Endeavor in an even worse mood than usual. Shouto let himself float, and only came back into his body around 1:00. He was sitting on his raggedy futon, legs crossed, and suddenly found himself aware of the pain coursing through his body. His hands called out to Touya wherever he was then.

( Help, 

please, 

I miss you, 

please come back, 

I’m sorry.)

Shouto quickly set about bandaging his burns, trying not to think about what must have happened for the last ten hours. 

( 4/21/2785- 10 h, 19 bruises, 22 burns, 4 fractures. )

The next day Shouto's advanced course began. He was handed new textbooks by Aizawa and told to ask the teachers if he had any questions. Shouto merely nodded and headed back to his desk. 

“Hey, Aizawa-sensei?” Kaminari asked, waving his hand in the air.

Aizawa sighed heavily. “Yes, Kaminari?”

“Why does Todoroki have all those books?”

“He’ll be taking an accelerated course of study.” Many more hands shot up. “No, I will not be answering any more questions, and do not hound Todoroki either.” There was grumbling, but Aizawa ignored them and began homeroom. Shouto focused back on his new math textbook. 

“Go get dressed for Hero Training. Todoroki, you’re with me.” Aizawa ordered after homeroom concluded. 

“Not fair!” Ashido complained. “Todoroki gets to skip training?”

Aizawa shot her a glare that had her mouth snapping shut. “On the contrary, Todoroki will be training with the third years.”

“What?” Bakugou exploded, hands sparking. “Why does that bastard get to train with the third years instead of these fucknuts?”

“Because, Bakugou, he can keep up.” Aizawa knew he was being harsh, but the class had no right to feel  outraged if they hadn’t earned it.

“I can keep up with a bunch of extras! And I can beat Icy Hot over there too!” 

Aizawa sighed from the depths of his soul. “If I let you test that theory, will you drop it?”

“Test it how?”

“Beat Todoroki in a match.”

“Fuck yeah! I’ll kill that bastard!” Bakugou boasted.

“Todoroki.” Aizawa called for Todoroki’s attention. “Are you willing to spar against Bakugou?” Todoroki merely nodded, and so the entire class filed out to Ground Beta for the match.  

Shouto didn’t remember what was happening. The fog was back, and mind ceded its control easily. He thought that someone had asked him something, so he’d nodded because staying silent is safe and most of the time ‘yes’ is the right answer.  

He was distantly aware of his body moving so he must be at home then. He was supposed to be training right? Endeavor had just changed his training regime to be more intensive. So he must be going to the training room. 

But he didn’t feel hot. He always felt like he was burning up when he was with Endeavor. So was he not at the house? Then where was he? He was never allowed outside unless they were training. But this didn’t feel like his house. It was messier and loud. His house was only ever loud with anger. Endeavor’s rage and Shouto pained whimpers that he stifled into his palm because-

Get up, Shouto! You can’t be that weak! If I were a villain you’d already be dead! 

You’re a disgrace of a man and this family, Shouto. 

Stop crying, pussy!

Touya was better than you after all, I should’ve kept him instead.

I’ll give you something to cry about, bitch!

So he wasn’t home. But where was he? Where was he? What was he going to do? He didn’t know what to do without Endeavor. As much as he loathed Endeavor, he wasn’t worth anything without him. What was he going to do?

Shouto registered his body stopping feeling as though he were merely playing as a person, and watched through bleary eyes as a blond blob stood a few feet in front of him. There was a low rumble as though someone was granting permission, and the blond rocketed toward Shouto. 

His vision snapped into focus. Bakugou was attacking, hands raised and sparking dangerously.  Shouto glanced around, Aizawa was standing in the corner watching as was the rest of the class so this was a sanctioned match. 

Shouto sent ice shooting out intending to fake out for Bakugou’s legs. Like Shouto predicted, Bakugou jumped into the air to avoid it. Shouto slid under him and punched his solar plexus with a flaming fist. Bakugou was thrown a few more feet in the air as he grunted and tried to catch his breath. 

Shouto rode an ice wave into the air,  and grabbed Bakugou’s flailing arm. He flipped him until he was face down on the ground with his hands behind his back and Shouto sitting atop him. 

“Well, I think that settles that.” Announced Aizawa and he motioned for Shouto to get off Bakugou. Already his mind was starting to fog over again, and he started to float away from his skin once more.

Chapter Text

Aizawa never quite knew exactly what to think of Todoroki Shouto. He tried. Tried to understand the boy, but it was hard when Todoroki had only said a few words to him. It was always just a nod or a simple sentence to a direct question. 

Aizawa didn’t think he’d ever seen Todoroki interact with his classmates either, aside from the  odd nod with Yaoyorozu. It was as though Todoroki just didn’t like to speak at all. It was perplexing and somewhat worrying. 

Yet Todoroki sailed through his lessons, the ones made for third years, and excelled in training with seventeen and eighteen year olds. He was, on paper at least, thriving, but Aizawa couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was off. He didn’t know what though.

There was the matter of his habit as well. His posture was perfect. He never slouched or looked unsure, always stood and walked with purpose. His hands constantly moved though. Always flipping into new positions and spinning his fingers around. It was rather lovely to watch, really, but Aizawa could figure out why .

Aizawa never knew what to think of Todoroki Shouto, but he thought that he liked him all the same. 

The Sports Festival. That was important, or at least Endeavor said so. Endeavor said he had to win it which made Shouto not want to. 

Shouto used to watch the Sports Festival with Touya. Touya would get so excited, pick a favorite in the beginning and try to predict who would win each match. He used to cheer extra loud when his favorite won and spin Shouto around in the air.

He would say that someday, that would be them. “Look Shouto! When I’m at UA, that will be  me! I’ll win first place every year! Then after we’ve both graduated, we’ll be hero partners and own an agency! We’ll be the top two heroes together!” 

Shouto didn’t want to win the Sports Festival for Endeavor, but he was going to win it for Touya. Shouto didn’t care that he was going against third years-semi pros- he was going to win first place. Like Touya had always dreamed.

The first event was a massive concrete maze with traps and ambushes inside. Only the first forty to reach the middle advanced to the second round, and Shouto was going to be one of them. 

The contestants lined up in front of the entrance to the maze, over two hundred students. The maze’s walls were over three stories high and completely smooth to prevent people from climbing up them. However, they hadn’t actually forbidden going above the maze. Their exact words were “no climbing up the walls”. 

Shouto just wouldn’t climb up the walls. 

Midnight counted down from five, and Shouto, with his first step, froze all of his competition in some of his thicker ice. He sprinted down into the maze, and took the first right then another left. A few people managed to escape or avoid his ice, but Shouto lost them within a few turns. 

As soon as Shouto was alone, he released his new move. Wings of glimmering ice spread from between his shoulder blades and scarlet flames flickered at the tip of each crystalline feather. Shouto pulled at the little strings that connected his mind to the wings to test if they would hold. They did and Shouto flew up the side of the maze. 

He erupted from the maze to find that he wasn’t all that far from the center, but other students were getting close as well. Shouto heated up the air under and behind his wings, and shot forward towards the finish line. 

He distantly heard Present Mic narrating his every movement, but he narrowed in on his goal. When he was a few feet away, Shouto cupped his wings to slow himself down and laid his feet on the ground. 

“And Todoroki Shouto takes first place for the qualifying round!” Mic cheered as Shouto dissolved his wings. “By flying , is that allowed?” 

Midnight shrugged. “He didn’t climb the walls so I suppose it does.” 

After that, Mic went back to announcing what the other students were doing, and Shouto breathed a sigh of relief. He hated being scrutinized. 

Aizawa watched as Midnight counted down from five for the start of the qualifier. Admittedly, his eyes were mostly focused on Todoroki.  The teen hadn’t appeared to have any particular impression or care for the Sports Festival, but Aizawa was sure he could at least make it to the third round. 

The bell rang out, and Todoroki leapt forward while simultaneously freezing the majority of his competitors to the ground. Aizawa was slightly disappointed in the third years, honestly. They clearly needed to work on their reaction time. 

With Hazashi’s narration in his ear, Aizawa looked on as Todoroki ran down a few random turns. He didn’t appear to have a strategy, but then he stopped. What was the kid doing? 

Aizawa was confused until he saw icy, brilliant wings crafted with both fire and ice. Aizawa gaped as Todoroki gave them a practice flap before leaping into the air. He didn’t even know the kid could do that. 

But he evidently could as Todoroki flew all the way over the maze to reach the finish line and won first place.

That damn kid was going to kill him. 

The second round was going to be King of the Hill, and it apparently required teammates. Shouto had never played King of the Hill, but the rules were fairly simple. The teams at the top of the hill when the buzzer went off would advance to the third round. 

There would be four different locations, each with ten teams and each team a different color. Only one team from each area would advance, and each team would have four people.

Shouto already felt his throat closing up at the thought of talking to these people he didn’t know. He had, of course, been introduced to the third year heroics students when he joined them for training. He was always isolated though, whispers and eyes followed everywhere he went, and some of them outright detested him. Said he was just there because ‘his daddy, Endeavor, was the number two hero’ or less eloquently, ‘fucking nepo brat’. 

The majority of the other students had already started forming teams with their friends, smiling and laughing as they high fived or cheered. Shouto just stood , waited. 

A girl approached him first, icy blonde hair, unblemished pale skin, and navy blue eyes the color of deep ocean. She introduced herself as Chinen Rami with her Quirk: Amplify. She could enhance or diminish a person’s Quirk by touching them until twenty-four hours had passed or she touched them again. She simply stated that she was part of his team, said that he must be pretty strong if he skipped two years. 

Then Ikari Kobe, Quirk: Anchor. They can make things, including people, have a huge gravitational pull or stability, making them impossible to move or pull things towards them. They can also anchor things. They have skin the color of the bitter chocolate that Shouto once remembered Touya eating, hair and eyes the color of the deepest black. They offered their services with a smile, and beamed when Shouto accepted.

Sampei Soga was the last to join them. She had caramel brown hair and eyes, tan skin with a smattering of freckles over her nose like a small sky.  Her Quirk was Friction. She could increase or decrease the friction and inertia making it impossible to either move or stay still. Sampei asked to join his team with a smirk that said that she knew he was going to say yes.

He did, of course, say yes.

Chapter Text

Once their teams were solidified, each team was given colored arm bands. Shouto’s team got an azure blue that reminded him of Touya’s fire. Shouto liked it. He felt almost as though Touya was with him- as he should have been - or watching over him. It was comforting, to some degree. 

They were given the three remaining minutes to create a plan, and Chinen quickly took the lead. 

“Alright.” She declared. “Everyone is going to waste their energy sprinting to the hill, but we aren’t. Instead, I’ll increase Todoroki’s power, and he’ll use his ice to carry us to the top of the hill. Once we’re there, he’ll create a massive ice dome to keep the other teams out. Sampei will increase the inertia of the dome until it’s nearly impossible to break, and Ikari will anchor it to the ground. Then all we have to do is wait for the timer to run out.”

Nobody argued as the plan was sound, and the timer went off soon after. 

The four of them were blindfolded because none of the contestants could see where they were going. Shouto hated it. He felt as though his voice was stripped away, unable to sign or read others’ signs. He could talk, yes, but that never felt like it was his . He said things that others wanted to hear, not what he wanted to say. His hands were the only way he knew how to speak .

Their blindfolds were stripped from their heads after nearly five minutes. He and his team stood blinking in the bright light, a hundred meters away from a hill that was around four meters tall. 

“Alright, students! The team on top of the hill in fifteen minutes wins! Don’t injure anyone permanently!” Midnight cheered. “Go!” 

As Chinen predicted, everyone else sprinted towards the hill. Chinen calmly reached out and touched Shouto’s arm, and either didn’t notice or pretended not to see his flinch. Immediately, there was a rush of power running through his body. 

His Quirk was always there , humming through his veins, but now it was drumming. Shouto gestured for his team to move closer before ice exploded under them, and they were carried swiftly to the peak of the hill. Once they landed, he erected a thick dome over the entire hilltop. Sampei ran to the ice and pressed her hand to it, presumably increasing its inertia, and Ikari trailed their hand around the base of the dome, anchoring it in place. They then regrouped in the middle to wait. 

“Well, I’m bored!” Ikari proclaimed. “That was too easy. Isn’t the Sports Festival supposed to be difficult?”

“Don’t jinx it!” Sampei reprimanded. “We might still have to fight.”

“I doubt it.” Snorted Chinen. “We’re much more skilled than most of the other students. Besides,” She smirked, nudging Shouto’s shoulder. “We have this hotshot on our team. Right, Todoroki?” 

Shouto simply nodded his agreement, but Ikari looked pensive. 

“Hey, Todoroki?” They asked gently. “You haven’t spoken this entire time. Why not?” Their voice was kind and nonjudgmental. It made Shouto feel like he could answer honestly.

“I don’t like to talk.” His voice came out rough and low from disuse. He hadn’t really spoken in a few weeks.

“Why not?” Chinen asked curiously.

“Words… hurt.” Shouto answered stiffly. He didn’t know how else to explain. They did hurt. That was all Shouto knew them for.

“Well, that’s okay.” Ikari said. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to!”

“Yeah.” Sampei and Chinen agreed. 

The rest of the team began to chatter about inane things while Shouto listened, occasionally called in with a yes or no question that he could answer nonverbally. 

Shouto actually started to enjoy himself by the time that the buzzer rang out, announcing the end of round two and the team event. 

The last event of the Sports Festival was always a one-on-one tournament. This year was no different. Shouto found himself herded by his former team to seats in the stadium to watch the upcoming fights. He was flanked by Sampei on the left and Chinen and Ikari on the right. 

The first match took twenty minutes to resolve, but a girl with tentacles for hair was eventually beaten by a boy who could shapeshift into a tiger. 

“Damn it.” Chinen cursed. “I was rooting for Suzuki.”

“I’m glad Tanaka won. He’s nicer.” Sampei disagreed.

“Oh,  please. You mean, you think he’s hotter.” Ikari scoffed.

“He can be nice and hot!” Sampei said, cheeks red.

When the next match started, Ikari left to get ready for their fight as they were up next. Shouto didn’t pay much attention to the second match, only coming back to himself as Ikari was introduced. They were up against a girl who could create corporeal things out of light. It could go either way. 

The girl opened by running straight at Ikari with a broadsword made of blinding light. It was difficult to look at, so Shouto didn’t even attempt. There was no need to damage his vision any more than it already was.  

Ikari dodged the sword and slid over the ground. They managed to touch the girl’s leg, presumably using Anchor on her. The girl froze in place. 

Midnight started. “Umm… well, can you move?” She asked the girl. When the girl made no motion or said anything, Midnight swung her whip and declared the match over. Ikari released the girl and walked off the stage. 

The next three rounds passed in a daze. Shouto knew he should be paying attention, but the fog was back, and it was as relentless as usual. Shouto was only pulled back into the present by Ikari nudging his shoulder. He somehow managed not to flinch.

“Hey, Todoroki. You’re going next round. You should get prepared.” Ikari said.

“You got this, Todoroki!” Sampei cheered.

“You’re going to win.” Chinen simply announced. 

Shouto gave them all a nod of thanks before standing and making his way to his assigned prep room.

Chapter Text

Shouto was up against a boy with bright orange skin. His Quirk was the ability to turn his hands into swords of pure energy. The boy was smirking confidently and rolling his shoulders in that boastful way that arrogant men always did. 

As soon as the match started, the teen leapt forward, his arms shifting into blazing orange blades, the same shade as his skin. That type of Quirk required close combat, which Shouto was more than proficient in, but he didn’t plan to let it go that far. 

Shouto made a thick layer of ice cover the entire area and cast flames in an arc in front of his opponent. The boy immediately started slipping and sliding on the ice, and while he was preoccupied, Shouto had the flames draw closer and closer to him. 

When the boy realized that the fire was moving towards him, he panicked. He tried to stand his ground, but once he realized that Shouto would burn him, he ran. Or tried to anyway. He gained too much momentum to stop by the time he realized that he would slide over the boundary line. 

The boy glided out of the arena without much fanfare, and Shouto used the fire to evaporate the ice before dispelling the flame. His opponent scowled at his easy defeat, but the crowd roared. 

Present Mic’s astonished voice came through the speakers. “And Okamoto slides out of bounds! Todoroki wins without moving a muscle!”

“This was a bad matchup for Okamoto.” Aizawa’s voice said from the booth. “His Quirk requires close combat, but Todoroki is perfectly able to fight in both long-range and close combat. As we saw here, Todoroki got his opponent out of range simply through his Quirk technique."

Shouto just walked as quickly as he could to the exit. Cameras and attention did not endear themselves to him. 

When Shouto returned to his seat, the other three immediately turned to him.

“You didn’t move.” Chinen said analytically, like she was cataloging his responses and moves. “Why?”

“No reason to.” Shouto answered shortly. Why would he do something unnecessary? Chinen nodded like it made perfect sense to her, and looked back at the arena. 

Sampei smiled, and a dimple appeared in her left cheek.  “That was so cool!”

“I second that.” Ikari agreed. “I hope I get to fight you today. It will be fun.”

Shouto just nodded his assent. The fog was coming back, and he didn’t know why. Endeavor wasn’t there, nor had he been injured. Regardless, Shouto knew that once it started, he couldn’t do anything about it.

Shouto never remembered what happened in the fog. He usually came back into his skin to find himself covered in bruises and burns in front of a mirror. 

This time, however, he returned to find himself standing in a circle of jagged ice spears that jutted outward. The girl, presumably his opponent, sat outside of the arena gaping. The crowd roared, and Shouto flinched. He hadn’t been prepared for their volume. 

“Wha-what?” Present Mic exclaimed, his voice blaring through the stadium and cutting into Shouto’s ears. “Todoroki defeats Inoue in one icy blast! Todoroki really is a powerhouse-” 

Mic’s voice started to blur and fade, and he couldn’t make out the words anymore. Shouto made his way to the exit in a daze. He felt as though he was watching himself through a film or a glitching tv screen with a broken ‘remote’ (if that was even what they were called). 

The semi-finals passed in much the same manner. Shouto returned to his skin after the match was won in his favor then he was gone again. Drifting. 

When Shouto truly returned, he felt much more present. His skin felt like it was his again, and his senses hit him at full force. He stood in the arena across from Sampei. A glance to the screen told Shouto that this was the final. The audience was hushed with anticipation, and it created a thick tension in the air. 

Midnight stood on her podium, and cracked her whip. “Three, two, one, go!”

Sampei dropped her hand to the concrete ground, and suddenly Shouto’s feet weren’t steady. Shouto let out a sigh. So she’d reduced the friction of the concrete. 

To combat that, Shouto sent an inch thick layer of ice over the arena, and crafted ice blades under his shoes. Shouto remembered Touya calling them ‘ice skates’. Shouto sent a fire whip near her head. Not to burn her, but to scare her. 

Sampei jerked back, nearly falling on the ice. With a determined glint in her eye, she began running toward him. Shouto waited until she had gained momentum before he raised the ice she was on into a circular slope. Sampei fell over and caught herself on her hands before hissing from the cold. 

She stopped herself from falling out of bounds, though, by increasing the friction of the ice until she could stand. Shouto, in response, shot fire just a foot behind her. In her distraction from the fire, Shouto covered the original ice with a thinner layer then he raised the peak again. 

Shouto ran forward as Sampei fell, and he shot ice around her hands to cover them. She wouldn’t get frostbit, but she wouldn’t be able to use her Quirk to mess with the friction and inertia of his ice any longer. 

With wide eyes, Sampei slid out of the boundary line, and Shouto won the Sports Festival. 

The fog wasn’t so bad really. He might not remember a lot of things, but he didn’t want to remember the pain (burning, searing pain, and the vile smell of burning flesh-of Touya burning-) that occurred while he was gone. 

The fog protected him from his father. He didn’t have to live through Endeavor’s rages. He only had to live with the wounds that would be present after. 

Yet, as he stood on the first place pedestal in front of hundreds of cheering spectators, he wished that the fog would let him feel something. Feel pride, maybe, or joy. Shouto had gone against those two years his senior, and emerged victorious. 

He almost felt bad. He knew that others were probably angry and jealous that he won. They would probably feel happy if they won, proud too. Shouto never felt anything anymore. 

But Touya wanted him to win it, so he did. Besides, he beat them fairly. So Shouto stood at the top of that podium all alone, with his head held high, and let the fog take him away once more.