Chapter Text
Kaze haya Kiyo mi
風 早 潔 美
Fast winds, pure beauty
Quirk: Zephyrkinesis
Birthday: 09/07
Height: 163cm
Blood type: O
Likes: Fruit sandos
Kazehaya Kiyomi woke to a gentle breeze wafting through her bedroom window, creating an unpleasant chill that drew her out of her slumber. It was still dark, the sun had barely risen, yet the cold of the February winter was too much to ignore. She groaned internally, chastising herself for forgetting to close the window the night prior. A quick glance at her phone told her that it was almost time for her to get up anyway, so she laboriously hauled herself out of her warm sheets, wincing when her feet touched the cold floor, and closed the window. Stretching out her joints, sore from being unused throughout the night, she rolled up her futon before she padded over to the bathroom to freshen up before she started her day.
In the bathroom, she stared at her reflection for a moment. Same pale skin. Same sunset golden eyes. Same baby blue hair. Same Kiyomi. She sighed as she began to brush her teeth, rolling out a crick in her neck. Appearance-wise, she took after her mother more, which wasn’t a bad thing since she worked as a model, so she inherited her delicate, yet sharp features. She didn’t know what she would do with herself if she took after her father and had to stare at his face in the mirror every day. Speaking of which, in the darkness of the early morning it took her a minute to notice the sticky note stuck to her mirror. It read, “U.A. recommendation practical exams today” in her father’s elegant handwriting. Kiyomi choked on her toothpaste when she finally comprehended the message, quickly spitting it out and rinsing her mouth out with water. Slamming her hands down onto the sink vanity, she caught her breath, irritation bubbling up within her.
So it was the dreaded day.
She ripped off the sticky note, balling it up and disposing of it, with such vigour the mirror could’ve come crashing down, but thankfully it didn’t. It’s not that she was afraid she wouldn’t pass the exams and disappoint her father, but rather the opposite. Kiyomi knew that there was no way she would fail, and her father knew that, too. That’s exactly what he wanted. For her to become a hero, to follow in his footsteps. It’s not that she didn’t want to be a hero, per se, but she had no real drive to become one either. It was more so because her father wanted her to become one more than anything, which both made her not want to be one and also become better than him. It was like he had closed off all other possible paths the moment her quirk had manifested, the perfect combination of his quirk which allowed him to manipulate the air currents, and her mother’s much weaker quirk which allowed her to create breezes. When the two mixed, it created a very powerful quirk that allowed Kiyomi to both create air currents and manipulate them to her will. She was no idiot, she knew she was born from a quirk marriage— birthed solely to create stronger and better quirks. She didn’t want to be a hero in particular, but she sure as hell wanted to be better than everyone else. A mindset that came to be from always being pushed to be better and do better as a child.
She pushed the sour thought aside and made her way to the kitchen, past intricately decorated corridors with traditional Japanese art pieces and sliding doors, intending to have something to eat after changing into a comfortable tracksuit. She stopped short in her step when she saw her father already sat in the dining room, decked out in his hero gear like he was about to arrest his own daughter for coming downstairs a tenth of a second late.
“Good morning,” she greeted him regardless, not eager to get a taste of the pro hero’s wrath when angry.
“To you as well,” the wind hero spoke back, low baritone rumbling the perfect image of politeness, “How did you sleep?”
But his daughter knew better. She knew her father couldn’t care less for pleasantries, that he only did so to create a false illusion of a peaceful household.
“I slept fine. Are you going on patrol soon?” She responded, tone devoid of any emotion as she took a seat across from him on the tatami and helped herself to the steaming tea resting on the table. Pretending is better than confronting, anyway. She was used to suppressing her bitter emotions.
He grunts affirmatively in response, taking a sip of his own tea.
“Good luck today. Shouto will be there,” is all he said, curtly excusing himself and making his way to the door, not waiting for a response. The wind is always moving. She stared at his back, his prized twin katanas lightly rattled against each other in an X-formation as his intricate hero costume disappeared through the door. Kiyomi is left there, hand clenched tightly around her teacup, her father’s words resonating in her head.in
Shouto will be there.
Shouto will be there.
Shouto will be there.
She scoffed to herself. That was such typical behaviour of her father, dropping a bomb on her and then leaving to fulfil his hero duties. It was as if he cared more about being the number three hero than being a father to his only daughter. Kiyomi had to admit though, Tempest was pretty cool. Patrolling from the skies and swooping in to settle cases, slicing through the air with his wind blades. That was her father, Tempest, the number three top pro hero. Perhaps all the effort that should’ve been put into being a father was instead put into being an exemplary hero.
She crushed the thought, neatly packing it away to never revisit ever again. Finished with morning tea, she went back to her room to grab her things, footsteps echoing in the empty household. Her mother had left early for work once again, leaving her with just her thoughts.
As she made her way to the entrance hall, she checked an ornate clock on the wall. There was still plenty of time before she was required to be at the examination centre, but she had a habit of always being early. Her mother knew this as well because as soon as she stepped out the front door, a driver was waiting for her. She sighed, wishing her mother would stop using her hard-earned money for such unnecessary things, but gratefully stepped inside the car nonetheless.
Her pesky thoughts somehow found their way back to Kiyomi during the quiet car ride. How irritating, hadn’t she locked them away back at home? No, she’d locked up every thought but one. The one that she’d tried to forget all throughout her middle school years.
Shouto.
The Todoroki family and the Kazehaya family were very intricately linked, both families of the number two and number three top heroes. The closest you could get to describing the relationship between Endeavor and Tempest was perhaps acquaintances with benefits who pretended to be old friends. They had worked together as heroes briefly in their youth before Endeavor decided he wanted to get married and produce a child with a stronger quirk to surpass All Might, the number 1 hero. The children of the Todoroki family were also unfortunately birthed with the intent of creating the perfect quirk. Kazehaya Hayato followed suit a few years down the line, wanting to improve his own quirk as well by having a child. While he was lucky and achieved this on his first try, Todoroki Enji wasn’t so, and only created the perfect balance of his and his wife’s quirks after their fourth child. He was slightly outraged that his counterpart managed to bear a child with a powerful quirk before him despite having started to bear children first, but that fourth child was Shouto. While Shouto had lots of siblings, and Kiyomi had none, they might as well have been each other’s only siblings growing up due to the immense training and pressure they were put under. Both aged only four years old, they were both forced to train their quirks together as per their father’s request, oftentimes even having to push each other to their limits together and see each other at their lowest points. It was a hellish childhood full of fire, ice, and wind.
She’ll never forget the day her younger self arrived at the Todoroki residence, ready to train, only to see Shouto with bandages wrapped over the left side of his face. At the time, he had only said he wasn’t able to train with her that day, looking down at his feet with shame. She only learned where his unsightly scar came from when she was older. She didn’t find it repulsing though. She knew more than anyone what it was like being raised only to surpass the former generation, and thought the scar only made Shouto stronger. After all, he was all she had, and she was all he had. In a way, those times were much simpler than what followed. Before Kiyomi and Shouto had even finished elementary school, it seemed Endeavor and Tempest had a dispute that ended poorly, and the joint training stopped. Without someone to share the pain of being pushed farther than her body could handle, Kiyomi began to dread the day she would become a hero. In her eyes, the idea of her becoming a hero was the reason she was hurting and the reason she couldn’t see her first friend anymore. Shouto and Kiyomi ended up going off to different middle schools, Shouto in Japan, and Kiyomi abroad. In their time apart, Kiyomi realised Shouto was also part of the reason she’d been pushed to try harder. She felt like throwing up at the idea of speaking to him again. All these years, and she still couldn’t forget the way that scar felt under her fingers.
After what seemed like forever, she was pulled out of her train of thought by the driver gently informing her that they’d arrived. Outside the car window, she saw a large stadium.
Not large enough , she thought to herself. No amount of distance from the boy she’d grown up with in that stadium would be enough for her to remain calm and keep a steady head. She thanked the driver, gently closing the door once she stepped out. Suddenly she was all alone. All alone as she made her way inside, all alone as she checked in, all alone as she got warmed up. Of course, she was the first person there. Blame the wind for waking her up so early.
Having the whole training stadium to herself, she tried out some of the techniques that had already been burned into her muscle memory. She made the wind under her and around her feet swirl around rapidly, propelling herself up and forward at tremendous speeds. She condensed the air around her and sent it whizzing forward, cutting like a blade. She gathered some of the air currents within the stadium, creating a whirlwind that travelled at high speeds to sweep opponents off their feet
She was panting lightly by the end of her warmup, deciding to end things there once the other middle schoolers who had been recommended to be admitted to U.A. High School's hero program began to arrive. She eyed them discreetly. Kiyomi recognised a few of them from the written exam, but she had no clue what their quirks were. No need for them to know hers either, she told herself as she sat on a bench near the edge and closed her eyes. Logically, she should be using this time to observe their quirks, but for Kiyomi, she didn’t need to. Of course, her father wanted her to get first, but this was just an entrance exam. Kiyomi knew she’d get in, no reason to try hard just yet. She sighed as she took a breather against the wall, wondering if this was really all worth it. She had already trained too much, hurt too much, and lost too much, to give up this path now. This foul, loathsome, desolate path.
Her moment of peace was interrupted by the shrill shriek of Present Mic announcing that the exams would begin momentarily, and to gather around near the centre. She sighed one last time, eyes fluttering open as she pushed herself to her feet, straightening her tracksuit jacket. Almost immediately, she made eye contact with half-grey-half-blue eyes across the stadium. It was like she’s been frozen by his quirk, because the two don’t move for a few seconds, simply staring at one another. Staring at how much the other had grown, staring at how their expressions lacked light.
Todoroki looked so different, yet he also looked the same. He still had the same half-white-half-red hair she thought looked funny when she was younger, but he lost some baby fat and was much more well-built now. He looked at Kiyomi with the same intensity he put into everything, as if intrigued by her existence after not seeing each other for so long. His facial expression gave away nothing as he took a fraction of a step forward, but the trance-like state ended after a few seconds, broken first by Kiyomi who swiftly turned and walked away to group up with the other participants. The wind is always moving , she told herself, standing as far as possible from Todoroki as Present Mic explained the tests they will complete. The group of soon-to-be high schoolers were to compete in a race with quirks, sparring, and an endurance test. The only one that seemed like it would be a slight challenge was perhaps sparring, as she wasn’t familiar with her opponents.
Whatever. She didn’t need to win, she just had to get in. She’d have all the time in the world to prove her competence after that. All the time in the world to prove to her father she could become a fine hero without him breathing down her neck.
She lined up for the race first, she was in the first heat. Since they were allowed quirks, Kiyomi wasn’t worried at all. Speed and agility were her forte. She looked around and saw that she’d be competing with some guy who looked like a skeleton in her heat, and… and of course, she was also pitted against Todoroki Shouto.
She steeled herself and wordlessly stepped up to the line. From her side, she can practically feel Todoroki burning a hole into the side of her head with his gaze, despite his fire quirk not being activated. It takes everything in her not to look back, to meet that smouldering gaze. And all the while, the perpetrator was wondering why she wouldn’t look at him. He was well aware that they couldn’t call themselves friends anymore, but this treatment was still colder than it needed to be.
“GO!” They’re both ripped out of their thoughts by Present Mic yelling that the race has begun.
Kiyomi activated her quirk, ripping forward like a bullet as she continually shifted the air around her to propel her towards the finish line. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Todoroki just a few steps behind her, whisking himself forward on his ice. Interesting. She knew he could manipulate ice, but she’d only ever seen him use fire as a kid. She realised that he’d probably also become very adept at using ice. The race only lasted a few seconds, Kiyomi had finished first with Todoroki and the other boy close behind. Kiyomi intended to walk off as soon as the results had been recorded, but she was stopped by a voice behind her, a voice deeper than she remembered.
“Kiyo..mi.” There was an uncomfortable pause before the last syllable of her name, and she got flashbacks of when that voice used to call her 'Kiyo' as a childhood nickname.
Kiyomi didn’t look back, for fear that unpleasant memories would fill her mind if she did. She reminded herself that things were not as they were. That she couldn’t settle for being just as good as Todoroki anymore. She had to be better.
Without turning around, she spoke the first words she’d spoken to him in years.
“Well fought, Todoroki.”
Todoroki.