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(Most information is copied straight from the wiki)

Shouto Todoroki (轟とどろき焦しょう凍と Todoroki Shōto) - "I want it, too. I'll be a hero!"

Age - 19

Birthplace - (Near) Shizuoka Prefecture

Birthday - January 11th

Blood Type - O+

Physical Description - 6'0 1/4 and rather muscular and well-built for his age, stemming from his intense training as a child, with fairly tanned skin. His eyes, in shape, were thin and reserved, while being heterochromatic, left eye an icy turquoise while his right a steel gray and usually set in a neutral expression. His hair was slightly frazzled and mimicked the mismatching, the right locks chalk white and the left locks crimson red with a few small flecks white on the left and crimson on the right at the crown. It was grown out - to piss off his father - and tied back into a small, low, slightly messy, ponytail at the base of his neck, with his bangs falling to his mid-nose bridge and parted twice to avoid obscuring his vision. On the left side of his face was a burn scar from his hairline to halfway down his cheek from when he was a child, his mother had a lapse of sanity due to his father's abuse and threw a kettle of boiling water she had near her over her son's face. However, what scarred him was Rei attempting to soothe the burn using her Frost Quirk - though it's fading as he ages. He also had a small X-shaped burn at the center of his chest from using Phosphor excessively during his fight with Dabi without mastering it.

Personality Description - Cold, aloof, distant, and socially awkward. He closed himself off, not bothering to build friendships or connections with others, which stemmed from his abusive upbringing and complicated family life. However, after First Year's Sports Festival, he became somewhat sociable and kind, even gaining a sense of humor and occasionally smiling, although still retaining his distant attitude and nonchalant demeanor. While usually quiet, Shouto possessed a moderate level of arrogance inherited from his father, which, combined with his solitary tendencies, made him take the initiative without considering the opinions of others at times, displaying confidence that he could take on any obstacle with his strength. Shouto seemed to prefer acting alone, though he only did for practical purposes since it allowed him to unleash his full power without worrying about allies. Calm and composed yet brutal in combat, Shouto was well-grounded on ethics, since defeating his oldest brother, Touya/Dabi, while some of his awkward character remained, he became more laid back and made a name for himself as a hardworking hero who treated all his fans equally and with respect. Just as he always wanted, Shouto became his own hero, with people thinking less and less of him as Endeavor's son. Touya had only been given a few years and could only talk for a few minutes a day, however, he'd defied the odds and made a full recovery. Now, Touya had gone through rehab at Fujitani Hospital and was now back with his family. Enji retired from Hero Work to spend all his time making amends for his actions. Shouto once had a deep loathing for his fire abilities, which he inherited from Endeavor, as it symbolized his father's wickedness towards him and his mother as well as what he was born to be: a tool to surpass All Might, a fate that he detested. Shouto often felt bothered by Enji's mere presence and could barely contain his anger while talking to him, especially whenever the Pro Hero brought up the purpose he had intended for his son since before birth. Ironically though, Shouto's animosity towards his father made him more like how Endeavor was, being apathetic and indifferent towards others while obsessively focusing on his own goal of rejecting his father. Shouto was quite reflective of his own growth, due to this, he was not against his father trying to make amends with his family and become a better person, knowing from experience that a single thing can change a person if they allow it to. However, Shouto's grudge towards Enji had not yet disappeared, self-admitting that such resentment can't vanish so easily and that he was wrong in trying to bury it. He remained relatively cold towards Enji and had made it clear that forgiveness for his past treatment of him and his mother was difficult but has also demonstrated worry about his father's safety. Ever since Enji tried to repair his relationship with his family, Shouto had taken a cautious, yet hopeful approach to this development, not seeming against the possibility of forgiving his father; however, he made it clear to Endeavor that he must earn it.

Quirk - Half-Cold-Half-Hot; Gave him the ability to generate ice from the right side of his body, and flames from his left side. If he overused one element without utilizing the other, then his body temperature would suffer; the ice half would cause frostbite and the fire half would cause heatstroke. Until his bodily limit was reached, however, neither had any visible effect. Shouto could easily negate this weakness by alternating between ice and fire. Further development of his Quirk and mastery over his fire had allowed Shouto to combine both halves into a 'cold fire', making use of his circulatory system to move the hot and cold blood around his body, merging the fire and ice into one ability - which he called Phosphor. This gave Shouto immunity to heat-based Quirks, as well as improved offensive capabilities, especially against those with such Quirks. However, this way of using his Quirk required a certain level of concentration to maintain it; otherwise, it would falter and dissipate.

School - U.A. High

Occupation - Hero-in-Training

Also Known As - The Frozen-Fire Hero; Shouto

Hero Chart Ranking - UNRANKED

Hero Costume - A navy blue heat-resistant jacket with elbow-length sleeves, it was collar high, with a cooling/heating device within it, and joined in the center by a gray neckpiece while featuring a large gray-blue T-shaped stripe going from his waist to his armpits. Baggy pants of the same color as his jacket, a metal-plated tactical vest that functioned as both a heater and radiator. White boots with soles equipped with spikes and a thin line running down the center of each of them a darker pale gray. He also sported a brown utility belt around his waist, which could hold eight little metal capsules containing medical supplies hanging off. He also wore two burgundy wrist guards with armor-like bracing, accompanied by plating from his wrist to his knuckles, which could store up heat and cold to help condense his power.

Fighting Specialty - Ranged Combat

Favorite Food - Zaru Soba

Other Facts(Headcanons) - His hair was soft yet two different textures, the white thin while the red held more volume and was fairly fluffy. His hands were calloused from training, yet gentle. He smelled like smoke, sage, and hint of peppermint. His favorite fruit was blackberries. When Shouto was mad, his right side activated subconsciously, lowering the temperature in the room, when he was flustered, his flames subconsciously activated.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

Momo Yaoyorozu (八や百お万よろず百もも Yaoyorozu Momo) - "We've got to start at the bottom and work up! And if we don't earnestly cheer each other on... We'll never be great heroes!"

Age - 19

Birthplace - Aichi Prefecture

Birthday - September 23rd

Blood Type - A-

Physical Description - 5'11 with a mature physique, her hair was raven black, tied into a spiky ponytail with a large strand hanging on the right side of her face. Her skin was a pale porcelain, and her eyes were big yet sharp, colored onyx, paired with short eyebrows often set in a stern expression. She had a scar on her left temple that went to her upper cheek from the Forest Training Camp ambush by the L.o.V First Year.

Personality Description - Prudent, dedicated, levelheaded, calm, kind, polite, and relatively innocent yet reserved. She wasn't one to initiate a friendship, due to past experiences of only being used for her money, status, or looks. However, once you truly got to know her, she was this warm, bright, energetic, and upbeat person who loved to spend time with and help out her friends as well as those in need. Though she often wears a mask of perfection, compartmentalizing her emotions and opting to help others through their struggles without acknowledging her own.

Quirk - Creation; Gave her the ability to create any non-living material/object from her exposed skin by transforming the molecular structure of her fat cells. To create something, she needed to understand the molecular structure of what the material/object is made of. The more Momo ate, the more material she had to work with, so she needed considerable food ingestion for her Quirk to be effective. However, it took her a more extended period and more skin exposure to create large objects. This aspect of Momo's Quirk is likely the reason for her slim figure, as she constantly burned her fat to create objects. This was also a significant weakness because if she generated too much without replacing her calories, she could become weak and anemic.

School - U.A. High

Occupation - Hero-in-Training

Also Known As - The Everything Hero; Creati

Hero Chart Ranking - UNRANKED

Hero Costume - An open back high-collared, sleeveless crimson leotard with silver lines at her waist and around her arms. It covered her entire torso yet had a boob window. Her high-collared red cape over her costume with a ring around her neck and a large red gemstone at her throat that used to be exclusively for her winter costume she now wore all the time, modifying the material to be comfortable and suitable in all weather conditions. She had crimson leggings - the side thigh being open and outlined in silver as she can only use her Quirk with exposed skin - and a gold utility belt around her waist. The book she used to carry - what her mother dubbed the 'Yaoyorictionary' - on composition information, was now converted into a watch, making it more convenient. She wore her sports calf-length red boots with heels, which dipped sharply down in the center. The collar of the boots was lined with silver, while there was a gold hexagonal outline on the back of the shaft of the boot from just below the collar to the ankle, and the sole of the boot was black.

Fighting Specialty - Close & Support Combat

Favorite Food (Headcanon) - Gyoza

Fun Facts (Headcanons) - Momo had a somewhat casual, natural, and non-lewd view toward nudity, she also had very little self-preservation and fidgeted when she was nervous or anxious. Due to past experiences, there are very few men outside her family Momo trusted. Her hands were rougher than expected from training, but still soft. She smelled like vanilla, roses, and a hint of cherry blossom. Her favorite fruit was strawberries. She needed to eat twice a normal person to maintain a healthy weight due to her Quirk and already fast metabolism, she also wore contacts - but only for reading. When Momo was overly embarrassed, nervous, or flustered her Quirk activated subconsciously and Russian Matryoshka Dolls popped out from her arms.

Other Facts (My AU) - As a child she wasn't allowed outside the property gate unless 'absolutely necessary', and while the Yaoyorozu Estate took up a whole street line worth of houses, it got boring. Momo couldn't interact with other kids; she didn't have friends. All she had were her studies and lessons. Everything was planned out for her since before she was born. She didn't get an opinion, a say, or an option for what she did or didn't do. Momo's mother, Hidoi, was strict, neglectful, and emotionally abusive. However, she was also extremely possessive of her daughter, controlling every aspect of Momo's life. Momo's father, Zankoku, barely came out of his office. For the public, he put on a charming act but really, he was cold and unforgiving. He always threatened Momo with violence, and at first, she called his bluff, but he stayed true to his word one day when Momo said too many words and ended up with multiple injuries. Her mother took a more phycological punishment, locking Momo in what she called her 'Thinking Room' which was the one untouched room of the house that was cramped, dark, and dirty - this led to Momo developing mild claustrophobia. Momo was primarily raised and cared for by her aunt (Hanta's mom). Her aunt, Ichigo Sero, was the one to introduce her to hero work and allow her to take Bōjutsu and Kenjutsu - without Momo's parents' knowledge. Ichigo was also the one to send Momo's application to U.A. and was the reason why Momo acted nothing like her parents. Momo's aunt was such a mother figure to her that she called her 'mom' whenever her parents aren't around.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

Fuyumi Todoroki (轟とどろき冬ふゆ美み Todoroki Fuyumi) - "Ugh... should've known... but with Shouto at U.A. and finally able to see mom again... and now that she's starting to cheer up, since you're making an effort... I thought... I thought we might just turn into a real family..."

Age - 26

Birthplace - (Near) Shizuoka Prefecture

Birthday - December 6th

Blood Type - AB+

Physical Description - A young woman of average height with turquoise eyes. She has white hair, flecked with a few noticeable traces of a crimson-like color, which is mostly shoulder-length aside from the ear-length side bangs she sports and the short clump she leaves hanging down her forehead. She wears a white dress shirt with a plain grayish peach-colored cardigan, the sleeves worn rolled up to just below her elbows, along with navy blue jeans. She also sports brown dress shoes and a pair of red-framed rectangular glasses. During the Final War, Fuyumi receives burn marks and scars right after exposing herself to the battle between Dabi and Endeavor. In the aftermath of the war, Fuyumi's burns have mostly healed, with only three notable scars remaining on her face.

Personality Description - Fuyumi was a kind-hearted person who cared deeply for her family. She took on a nurturing role for her younger brother, Shouto, during their mother, Rei's absence. It was shown that she had an amicable relationship with both her brothers, Shouto and Natsuo, as well as her mother whom she often visited at her hospital ward. She also had a teasing side, as she taunted Natsuo for having a secret girlfriend at college. Fuyumi didn't show the same resentment towards her father as her brothers did, although she confirmed that she did feel the same way as them at times. Despite this, Fuyumi tried to get along with her father for the sake of their family changing for the better, an idea which she was hopeful about after taking note of her father's changing attitude and Shouto's healing relationship with their mother. She was shown to worry about her family whenever something happened to them, including her father, as she was horrified to see him grievously injured during his battle with Hood. She also showed visible panic when Shouto came back from saving Katsuki, and was frantic upon hearing that Natsuo was kidnapped by a villain whom her youngest brother and his friends later fought. The feeling that she "couldn't do anything for Shouto" remained in her heart. This was also what inspired her to become a teacher, as she felt that she couldn't protect her youngest brother. For all her positivity, Fuyumi admitted that she was too afraid to stand up to her father's abuse and could only do her best to keep up the appearance of a happy family, acknowledging that she too held some partial blame regarding her older brother Touya's fate. Even so, she agreed to unite with her family to help their father stop Dabi. Fuyumi had proven to be very brave, as during the Final War, she chose to accompany her mother and Natsuo in confronting Dabi, who was releasing a deadly inferno and was on the verge of self-destructing. Fuyumi used her ice Quirk to help contain Dabi's explosion, telling her older brother that she can't bear to lose anyone again and pleading with him not to take everyone down with him as well.

Quirk - Frost; Fuyumi inherited her mother's ability to generate ice, to both coat herself in it and blast it out.

Occupation- Teacher

Favorite Food - Ice Cream

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

Touya Todoroki (轟とどろき燈とう矢や Todoroki Tōya) - "If you're trash, at least burn and be kindling for my flames.

Age - 27

Birthplace - (Near) Shizuoka Prefecture

Birthday - January 18th

Blood Type - O+

Physical Description - A reasonably tall, pale young man of slim shape but somewhat muscular build. He had white hair with a few red flecks at its crown that spiked upward around his head, hanging low over his eyes, which were thin, turquoise, and heavily lidded. Dabi's hair was dyed black before revealing his true identity. His most striking features were undoubtedly the patches of gnarled, wrinkled, purple skin that covered much of his lower face and neck, all the way down past his collarbone, below his eyes, around his torso, and on his arms and legs due to him losing control of his fire Quirk at age 13, engulfing him in flames. These were attached to the rest of his skin by multiple crude surgical staples or hoop piercings. He had several silver cartilage piercings in both ears and a triple nostril piercing on the right side of his nose. Upon closer inspection, he also lacked earlobes on both sides of his ears.

Personality Description - A stoic, aloof, confident, and focused individual who rarely showed emotion. While rather crude and violent, he was also cautious and observant, choosing to retreat when Mirko arrived to aid Endeavor and made sure not to divulge too much information to Hawks about High-End because of the infancy of their relationship. Overall, Dabi was a highly enigmatic individual who trusted no one, preferring to do things alone and in his own way. He also gave off the impression of knowing more about certain people than he let on. Despite his usual expressionless behavior, Dabi found joy in establishing himself as a villain fighting what he believed to be false heroes, an ideology proposed by his apparent inspiration, Stain. Dabi was dedicated to Stain's mission and desires to destroy superhuman society, sharing his belief that one person with the necessary conviction can do so. He had shown to share Stain's sentiment that heroes are hypocritical and unworthy of their title, but unlike Stain, did not seem to seek a society with better heroes, believing that true heroes don't exist. Despite his devotion to the Hero Killer's creed, Dabi did many things that Stain would not, such as attacking innocent bystanders and helping the League get revenge against Overhaul, while also being motivated by his vengeance against Endeavor. In the end, Dabi only used Stain's ideals to cover his motives and justify his crimes against the hero society. Dabi took pleasure in taunting heroic figures, students, and Pro Heroes alike, sadistically enjoying the pain he inflicted on others, including those he murdered. Sometimes, Dabi engaged in psychological warfare to unnerve whoever his opponent was while also allowing himself to cool down from his Quirk's effects. Very pragmatic in battle, he was savvy about how heroes operate and would exploit their natural tendency to rescue others. He was not afraid of causing collateral destruction, rarely holding back, even if it put his allies at risk. Dabi was intolerant of most people and could be very derisive, rude, and condescending to everyone he met. He insulted Tomura Shigaraki immediately after meeting him and constantly did the same to his allies and enemies, but didn't always do it with the intention of being rude. While the League went on to develop a strong sense of camaraderie, Dabi remained distant from them for the most part. He later admitted that he didn't care for Tomura or the rest of the League and that the value he places on them came mostly from their ability to bring his ambitions into reality. This selfish way of thinking established Dabi as an extreme sociopath. However, Dabi at least had a capacity for remorse. While he had no problem killing the Pro Hero Snatch, the latter's words appeared to have resonated with him, implying that Dabi held sympathy for those who have lost family due to villains, as well as the loved ones of those whom he had killed. Yet, this remorse did not extend to his family, as Dabi frequently contemplated their deaths for the sake of revenge against Endeavor. He also appeared to have certain standards, as upon seeing Tsukuyomi arrive to save Hawks, he was surprised and disgusted by how the heroes and government were more than willing to bring young students into the Paranormal Liberation War, although he could've just been looking down on them for having to rely on high schoolers. Dabi even displayed some semblance of kindness when he burned down Himiko Toga's old family home while she was feeling distraught over it, though he claimed he only did it to twist the knife for the heroes. Despite admitting that he held no care for the other League members, he did encourage Twice to do his best for the League during the war, even hi-fiving him as he ran out to join the battle and took the time to encourage Himiko that they should continue fighting for their cause. This motivational aspect showed that Dabi cared enough about his allies to support their morale when needed, even if only for pragmatic and self-serving purposes. However, after being confronted by Rei, Fuyumi, and Natsuo, who all use their ice Quirks in an effort to cool him down and stop his explosion, Dabi did internally show some happiness at seeing his family again, even imagining them all (minus Shouto) being together and happy, while gathering around a grown and happy version of Touya. This implies that Dabi wasn't as far gone as he previously claimed, seeing how everyone, including his father, was watching him just as he always wanted and wondered why it couldn't have happened sooner. While being visited by his family, he casually mocks them and his own state while also rejecting his father's words, calling him a coward and telling him not to bother after everything that's happened. Though he fell quiet upon hearing his family's words and that they intended to continue visiting him. At the end of the visit, Dabi answered Shouto's question that his favorite food was soba. After recalling how Shouto refused his statement that they would never be together, Dabi finally showed remorse for his actions upon seeing how his family still refused to give up on him, crying as he apologized to Shouto. Overall, the neglect Toya had received paired with his refusal to stop chasing his father had caused him to devolve from a bright and ambitious boy who wanted to be a hero, to a bitter, vengeful, and destructive villain. Even Natsuo said that had his family, especially Enji, given Touya the help he needed, Dabi would have never come to be. To add to this irony, Dabi completed what he set out to do, having ruined the career and reputation of the hero he once looked up to. Nevertheless, Dabi showed multiple times that he hadn't completely lost his humanity, nor had he forgotten about his family, even being momentarily happy upon seeing them again and later having remorse for all the harm he caused them.

Quirk - Blueflame; Dabi's Quirk granted him the ability to generate and control highly destructive blue flames from his body. Originally orange and red, his Quirk turned blue after going through a growth sprout. He had very well-developed control of his flames and could unleash them far from himself and in large amounts. Furthermore, his flames possessed greater firepower than his father, Endeavor's, Hellflame Quirk, and they became even stronger when Dabi felt strong emotions, especially anger and hatred. However, Dabi's body had a low tolerance for his own flames due to him inheriting his mother's constitution, which gave his body resistance to freezing temperatures rather than intense heat. As a result, he would get burned if he used them for prolonged periods and severely limited his endurance, with the highest temperature of his flames being fatal. After being defeated in his second battle against Shoto, Blueflame's power increased, resulting in it manifesting the ice from his mother's Quirk, Frost, within itself. This power-up was described as something "different" to a Quirk Awakening, a burst of power that emerged when he was on the verge of death in an effort to help him survive his intense burns.

Favorite Food(Headcanon) - Tempura Soba

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

Rei Todoroki ((轟とどろき冷れい Todoroki Rei) - "Yes? What about your heart? Those regrets and guilt... the rest of us have borne that burden... much more than you have."

Age (Headcanon) - 43

Birthplace - UNKNOWN

Birthday (Headcanon) - November 9th

Blood Type (Headcanon) - O+

Physical Description - A middle-aged woman with an average height and build. She had straight white hair that was just above shoulder-length with rather long bangs over her face. Her face had round features, having mellow expressions in casual situations. Her tired-looking eyes were steel gray with reasonably long eyelashes. During the Final War, she received a huge amount of burns and scars all over her body after exposing herself to the battle between Dabi and Endeavor. In the aftermath of the war, Rei now bore a large scar on the upper left side of her face running all the way down to her right cheek.

Personality Description - A kind, caring, and loving mother towards her children. She loved her eldest son Touya and wanted to stop him from training his Quirk, knowing the harm it was causing him. Sadly, Rei's love and concern were not enough to help Touya see through his obsession with becoming a Hero and gaining his father's approval. She was also devastated by Touya's supposed death, despite her son cruelly blaming her for his birth. She was also loving and protective of her youngest son, Shouto, and would try to stop her husband from forcing his mad training methods on him. While Shouto suffered from Enji's cruelty, Rei comforted him and encouraged the boy to become the person he wants to be, saying that he isn't bound by his father's blood, further showing her kind nature. However, the constant abuse that she received from her husband caused her to become mentally unstable. This is seen where Rei admitted that she was slowly becoming repulsed by her own children due to her seeing their resemblance to her husband in them. Eventually, she became unstable to the point that one day she finally snapped upon seeing Shouto's left side, which reminded her of Enji. This caused her to throw a kettle of boiling water she had near her over her son's face, burning him. She did not, however, do this out of hatred for Shouto, but rather due to her mental instability and it is later revealed that after doing so, she immediately attempted to soothe her son's burns using her ice Quirk, while hysterically apologizing to him and asking herself why she did it. After staying at a psychiatric ward in Fujitani Hospital and being away from her husband, Rei had shown to have returned to her past kind, caring self. Upon meeting her son again, she apologized and smiled through tears after he told her that he forgave her, and the two restored their loving relationship. She also received visits from her other children, Natsuo and Fuyumi, and appears to receive small gifts from her husband, although she was yet to see him face to face out of fear. Her kindness and compassion was shown when she understood the internal struggle Enji is facing, and from this, Natsuo was able to understand that Rei had faith in him despite all of the trauma he put her through. Despite her kind nature, Rei was surprisingly strong-willed. After having seen her eldest son's broadcast and learning the truth that Touya was alive and had become a mass murderer, instead of breaking down, she resolved to address the situation with the rest of her family, including her youngest son and her husband. She went to the hospital where her husband and youngest son were being treated, and when Enji was expressing his guilt and shedding tears, Rei approached him and reminded her husband that the rest of their family suffered from these feelings more than he has, explaining to Enji that she came to talk about their family and about Touya. Despite her anger towards her husband for what she and her children went through, she also understood that she too had been unable to see how they failed Touya when he was young, a sense of guilt she shared with Enji and a burden that she pointed out is not his alone. Due to her recovery and reclaiming her sanity, Rei had shown to be a forgiving and understanding woman, determined to do what she could to help her husband recover and to put an end to their family's dark legacy in Dabi once and for all. Although Rei wasn't a Hero, she was strongly determined to risk herself to save her husband and her eldest son when the both of them were going to die from Dabi's internal combustion. Following the Final War, despite everything her husband and eldest son have done, Rei still refused to abandon either of them, wishing to talk to a dying Touya being kept at hospital, and stayed by Enji's side after the latter retired from hero work, telling her husband that even with how bleak his future looked, he wouldn't have to face it all by himself.

Quirk - Frost; Gave her the ability to generate and manipulate ice from her body. This ice Quirk was considered very powerful, given that it impressed Enji enough that he wanted an offspring with a combination of this Quirk and his own. Unlike the Quirk used by Geten, a distant relative of hers, she could generate ice from her body at will. Even though Frost was a powerful Quirk, she couldn't use her Quirk for long periods of time as overusing or prolonging it can cause her body to develop frostbites, and her body temperature drops if she pushed it further.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

Enji Todoroki (轟とどろき炎えん司じ Todoroki Enji) - "I'll be making amends and apologizing for my sins for the rest of my life... Whether you're all around to see it or not. And I'll shield you kids from the fiery fallout to the best of my ability. If there's a reason I survived, that's got to be it."

Age - 45

Birthplace - (Near) Shizuoka Prefecture

Birthday - August 8th

Blood Type - AB+

Physical Description - A tall, sturdily-built man with a very muscular physique. He had short crimson hair, which he wore spiked up around his head, and sharp turquoise eyes. His beard and mustache appeared to be made of fire, but when he voluntarily turned off the flames on his face, a slight amount of stubble showed around his jaw. He had a large, jagged scar on the left side of his face reaching from his hairline all the way down to his chin, his right arm was ripped off in the Final War, and he has burns all along his face and body. As a further result of his injuries sustained during the Final War, he is bound to a wheelchair and was forced to quit Hero Work, however he did so willingly in order to spend the rest of his life atoning for his sins and making amends with his family

Personality Description - Described as a prideful and ambitious man. His obsessive drive to surpass All Might in strength and power has followed Enji throughout his entire life, and repeated failure has plagued him since his youth. Dedicated to his studies and hero work, Enji strived to become the absolute strongest Pro Hero in the country. However, the figure of All Might proved itself too much of an insurmountable obstacle for him or anyone else to overcome, leaving Enji in a growing state of despair as he became increasingly aware that closing the gap between him and the Symbol of Peace was futile. As a result, Enji turned into a cold, callous person who didn't care for anything but his impossible dream. Enji would become a cold, even abusive father and husband, with his actions negatively affecting all members of the family he formed. Shouto, his youngest child, was considered his masterpiece, a tool with all the correct elements to exceed All Might's ability and nothing else. As a result, Enji focused all his hopes on Shouto, forcing him through incredibly harsh training from a young age and showing no concern for his son's desires. The rest of his children were ignored and perceived as "failures" that weren't allowed to interact with their younger brother. Enji became verbally and physically violent towards his wife, Rei, whenever she tried to defend Shouto from the brutal training to the extent where she began to fear him and started seeing him in the faces of their children. When his wife succumbed to a mental breakdown and injured Shouto, Enji sent her to a psychiatric ward to prevent her from getting in the way of his child's development. At the same time, he wasn't entirely without feelings and concern for his family. Upon learning that his first son, Touya, had stronger fire powers but a body that could not handle his flames, Enji quickly stopped forcing his efforts on Touya in fear for his well-being and was frustrated when he refused to quit and kept burning himself. Beforehand, he was content with training Touya to be his successor, despite him not inheriting the ideal Quirk that he desired, and his training with Touya was nowhere near as harsh or brutal as he would be with Shouto. Also, despite their arranged marriage, he did show some sentiment towards Rei when they first got together, remembering her favorite flower despite her only telling him about it once. As the years passed however, Enji became more stubborn and impatient to fulfill his lifelong goal. Being so devoted to his hero work and his dream, he never took the time to learn how to be a family man, believing that all he could show anyone was the world of a hero. Rei accused Enji of using his hero status to avoid his problems as a father, and he would admit this to be true to Natsuo years later, confessing that all he could do was dodge his responsibilities and blame others. This avoidance of his parental responsibilities led to the abuse of his wife and the neglect of his children, especially Touya, who drove himself hysterical yearning for his father's acknowledgment after being replaced in favor of Shouto. While Touya's apparent death devastated him, Enji's obsession with training Shouto remained, feeling as though it would have all been for nothing had he given up.

Quirk - Hellflame; Allowed him to produce and manipulate large amounts of extremely intense fire at will. He appeared to be immune to other flames and can easily control the shape and temperature of the blaze as well. Enji's level of control enabled him to utilize his flames in unorthodox ways, such as concentrating flames and heat to his feet to achieve limited flight. He had been shown shaping his flames into long-range and melee weapons, such as when he struck a Nomu with a spear made of fire and was even capable of emitting fire from his eyes as shown when he burned All for One's hand when the villain attempted to steal his Quirk. Using too much of his power would overheat Endeavor's body, causing a depletion of stamina, and an impairment of his physical functions.

Former Occupation - Pro Hero

Formally Known As - The Flame Hero; Endeavor

Former Hero Chart Ranking - #1

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

Izuku Midoriya (緑みどり谷や出いず久く Midoriya Izuku) - "It's not all black-and-white. Most things in this world are in shades of gray. A blend of fear and anger. Which is exactly why... I've gotta extend a helping hand!"

Age - 19

Birthplace - (Near) Shizuoka Prefecture

Birthday - July 15th

Blood Type - O-

Physical Description - 5'7 1/4 with a round face framed by a mop of fluffy dark-green hair grown out in a mullet which curled up at odd angles around his head, casting noticeably dark shadows onto itself and was parted slightly to the right. His eyes were large and somewhat circular, and his irises were emerald green, which at times are very watery, and are usually stretched quite wide, giving him an innocent, energized appearance. He had a set of four symmetrical freckles in diamond formations, one on each cheek. Izuku had often been described as "plain-looking" or "not standing out" by others. He had developed and defined muscles, the fingers on his right hand slightly deformed, and his hand showed visible scarring. His right arm was further damaged after his intense fight, leaving many more scars. Following his recovery after the previously mentioned fight, Izuku wears a black compression sleeve on the upper portion of his right arm in order to support the heavy damage it sustained: it is partially visible when he wears short sleeves. He had two face scars, one on the right side of his head, and the other below his right eye spreading down his cheek and reaching his chin.

Personality Description - A very timid, reserved, and polite boy, frequently overreacting to abnormal situations with exaggerated expressions. Due to yeаrs of being looked down on by Katsuki Bakugou for lacking a Quirk, he is initially portrayed as insecure, tearful, vulnerable, and non-expressive. These traits were especially present around Katsuki, who also constantly harangued him for his aspirations to become a hero. However, after being accepted into U.A., making new friends, and facing Katsuki, Izuku gradually matured into a more confident and braver person who was always eager to prove his worth as a hero, eventually developing strong leadership skills, which combined with his passion and strategic abilities, had turned him into a central figure. Izuku was a quite diligent and strong-willed student, being extremely (and sometimes scarily) enthusiastic about topics related to heroes. His dream drove him to write down notes about everything he learns about heroes' Quirks and fighting capabilities. Thanks to this practice, Izuku had developed a great analytical mind and can form complex battle plans in a few seconds, factoring in the best ways he could utilize the Quirks of allies and enemies alike for his own advantage. Izuku externalizes his observations through endless mumbling, a habit that annoyed or creeped out his peers. Izuku often wrote down his observations in a variety of notebooks. He checked on them regularly during school activities, during his free time, or at night. Izuku was caring and emotional, never hesitating to help or rescue someone in danger, even if he knew that he might not be strong or otherwise qualified enough to do it. Often, he did this on instinct, taking a more careless approach than the usual overthinking he goes through and putting himself in peril in order to protect someone.

Quirk - One for All; Transferred to him from Toshinori Yagi, Izuku's Quirk allowed him to stockpile an enormous amount of raw power, allowing him to significantly enhance all of his physical abilities to various boundless levels. This resulted in unbelievable levels of strength, speed, stamina, agility, and durability. When Izuku activated One for All, red, vein-like lines course throughout the empowered part of his body. Izuku could focus the stockpiled power into a single body part, or spread it across his entire body evenly, though, focusing the power in a single part puts a greater strain on that part of his body. He was also able to control what percentage of his full power that he uses. Since he was not born with this power, his body was not naturally suited to handle it, however, over time and with continued training with it, his body has become more accustomed to bracing for the strain. He was able to handle 45% of his full power without breaking his bones, with 30% being his normal output. In addition to the stockpiling power, Izuku also had access to a subconscious realm where vestiges of the consciousnesses of the previous One For All holders dwell. These vestiges could trigger Izuku to activate One For All without any conscious input from himself, as seen when he was under the control of Hitoshi's Quirk and illusionary shadows of these echoes appeared in his vision. Izuku had little to no control over this aspect of One For All, being unable to freely enter or exit, his body not being fully materialized, which limited his movement within the realm, and only being able to talk through muffled sounds since his mouth has not fully manifested yet. However, Izuku had reached the point where he can freely communicate with the vestiges of the previous users while still conscious. Izuku is the first holder of One for All known to have gained access to this realm while still alive. Izuku was granted access to the Quirks of the previous owners of One for All, but he has since transferred someof them to Tomura in an effort to defeat him. This left him with only Blackwhip, Smokescreen, and Float, having transferred Gearshift, Fa Jin, and Denger Sense.

School - U.A. High

Occupation - Hero-in-Training

Also Known As - The Peace-Symbol Hero; Deku

Hero Chart Ranking - UNRANKED

Hero Costume - Created by Melissa Shield and Mei using data collected from All Might's against All for One; funded by members of Class A and gifted to him by All Might, Izuku receives a new technology-based Hero costume that looks markedly like his Costume Zeta, albeit more mechanical. This costume can be stored as a briefcase that is marked with the number 18, Izuku's seat number when he was a student.

Fighting Specialty - Close and Ranged Combat

Favorite Food - Katsudon

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

Katsuki Bakugou (爆ばく豪ごう勝かつ己き Bakugō Katsuki) aka Kacchan (かっちゃん Katchan) - "If you keep looking down on everyone... you're never gonna notice your own weaknesses."

Age - 19

Birthplace - (Near) Shizuoka Prefecture

Birthday - April 20th

Blood type - A+

Physical Description - A young man of above-average height, with a slim, muscular build, and a fair skin tone. He has short, spiky, sandy blond hair with choppy bangs that hang over his eyebrows, as well as two braids at the back of his head, designed to look like lit fuses. His eyes are sharp and crimson red in color. His right arm is heavily scarred much like Izuku's, additionally, Katsuki's right cheek bears a stitched scar, marking the side of his face. He also has two scars on his body: an impacted one near the base of his left shoulder that stretches to his clavicle, and one on his lower stomach area.

Personality Description - A crude, arrogant, short-tempered, and aggressive person. He ends to come off as unheroic; this problematic behavior going all the way back to his early childhood days when he was known to bully. However, after being accepted into U.A. and experiencing several personal defeats, one of them even coming from Izuku, Katsuki has gradually changed into a less antagonistic person, albeit still retaining a lot of his unpleasant traits. While often portrayed negatively, Katsuki's fierce character and competitive drive have actually granted him an important role among Class 3-A, as a sort of inspirational mood-maker. Determined and thirsty for victory, Katsuki smiles eerily when in the middle of a battle. He is incredibly focused on achieving his own authentic victories and has learned to never underestimate his opponents. Katsuki is not only very athletic and talented at fighting, but also very intelligent and extremely perceptive, capable of strategic planning and improvisation. Katsuki also possesses surprising talent in other areas, such as cooking and music, even though he doesn't show a particular interest in them. Overall, Katsuki is considered a natural-born genius with the potential to be one of the best Pro Heroes around. While a rather volatile hero-in-training who reacts and snaps more than thinking, Katsuki is smart enough to discern who his enemies and allies are. He is not particularly nice or open with people who are on his side, or anyone else for that matter, but will act less unfriendly and sometimes even kind to those that manage to earn his respect. Because of his attitude and vulgar language, Katsuki's U.A. classmates often react negatively to him, although they have come to appreciate his skills and warm up to his personality. Katsuki matures slowly through his time at U.A., coming to befriend some of his classmates and willingly engaging in social interaction with them, though remaining solitary for the most part. Katsuki has a habit of bestowing insulting nicknames upon others, he also refers to people he doesn't know as "Extras" treating them as little more than fodder or steppingstones to his victory until he faces them head-on. Despite this, he can address others properly when it matters, such as when he's serious or in the heat of battle. Katsuki values honesty highly and never lies to the point his brash candor is seen by some as rude and insensitive. He is never afraid of speaking his mind and will notice when people are not being truthful to him. Katsuki is an excellent judge of character, making it hard to deceive him. Due to the constant praise of his abilities and powerful Quirk, Katsuki has developed a superiority complex, and because of that, he desires to be the first and best at everything. Katsuki loves to win above all else and cannot stand it when he doesn't, leading him to lose his already short temper or, less often, sulk. He is fiercely competitive and will never settle for less than the number one spot, having a compulsive need to always strive for victory and also prove people who doubt him wrong. However, Katsuki also values hard work and fair play, to the point of refusing to acknowledge a winning result if he feels that his victory was not earned by actual merit. Along with that, he detests being pitied or looked down on by others and will hold contempt towards those that don't take him seriously, while recognizing the effort of those that manage to put up a challenge against him. Because of his Quirk and talents, Katsuki is very confident and brave to where he is willing to go against anyone who challenges him. He never backs down from a fight and will go out when facing such a powerful opponent. Katsuki is immensely prideful and prefers to act alone, as he hates the idea of being protected or having to rely on other people to assist him unless, in the latter's case, he is recognized as the unquestionable leading figure within a team. Katsuki also has an honorable side to him.

Quirk - Explosion; Allowed him to secrete nitroglycerin-like sweat and ignite it on command, allowing him to create strong, condensed explosions. The more Katsuki sweated, the stronger his explosions became. Katsuki had a strong grasp on the applications of his Quirk, not only could Katsuki use the explosions for attacking, he could also use them to propel himself and navigate through the air at high speeds, allowing him to fly at his opponents without giving them time to react, as well as evade incoming attacks, even while in the air. The shockwave from an explosion could even be used as a shield. Katsuki could keep up his explosions continuously. If Katsuki overused this power, his forearms and other areas where he triggered explosions will start to ache.

School - U.A. High

Occupation - Hero-in-Training

Also Known As - The Explosive Hero: Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight

Hero Chart Ranking - UNRANKED

Hero Costume - A tight, black, tank top with no left sleeve and a long black sleeve that envelops his entire right arm and shoulder, featuring an orange "X" across the middle, creating a V-neck design. There were two black dots along the left side of the collar, which was the trademark of his costume's designer. The outfit included a metallic neck brace with rectangular ends, each having three holes on either side. He wore black sleeves extended from streamlined Grenadier Bracers shaped like smoke grenades up to his biceps, finishing with thin orange tips and featuring silver sights fastened to every knuckle. A green and orange belt, equipped with grenades, secured his baggy pants that had green straps and knee guards. On his feet, he sported black, knee-high combat boots with orange soles, eight eyelets, and straps at the top. His mask was jagged and black, with a large, orange-rimmed flare shape protruding from each side around the eyes.

Fighting Specialty - Close & Ranged Combat

Favorite Food (Headcanon) - Karakarakuo Tsukemen

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

Denki Kaminari (上かみ鳴なり電でん気き Kaminari Denki) - "Don't waste your breath. Costumes? Check. On the scene? Check. That makes us heroes!"

Age - 19

Birthplace - Saitama Prefecture

Birthday -  June 29th

Blood type - O-

Physical Description  -  Had almost shoulder-length gold hair, parted to the right with a black lightning-shaped streak on the left of his side fringe, which is angled to partially obscure his left eye. He had slanted, somewhat triangular golden eyes and notably small eyebrows. He was slimmer than most male students in his class, with little visible muscle mass. During the Paranormal Liberation War, Denki gained a scar on his upper left forehead following his injury from Mr. Compress' attack, although his hair covered it rather well.

Personality Description - A friendly, social, and energetic boy who enjoyed hanging out with others. He was rather casual when interacting with other people, including the generally unfriendly Katsuki Bakugou, although he was not above petty complaining or overreacting if he felt annoyed or shocked enough. Denki may come off as blunt and reckless at times but was always well-meaning. He encouraged others to be themselves and become more comfortable doing what they like. Denki was somewhat flirtatious towards the girls in and out of his class, sometimes accompanying Minoru Mineta on his schemes and trying to pass himself off as a smooth talker. He was not very lucky with his approaches, though, frequently having his advances ignored or outright rejected by those he asked out. Denki was also a bit of a jokester and sometimes teased others with playful comments. Overall, Denki was interested in appearing cool and trendy to impress people but had a shallow understanding of how to do so correctly. Denki could be more academically bright, requiring massive help with studying due to his general disinterest and neglect of school duties. He did not appear to pay much attention in classes, got quickly bored from lectures, and suffered anxiety attacks when dealing with tests, at which point he became increasingly agitated and aggressive. Frequently showing a lack of tact and smarts in and outside of school, Denki may give off the impression of being stupid or foolish, leading others to throw snide remarks at him, especially Kyouka Jirou, or underestimate his capabilities as a hero. Denki became distraught when put into stressful situations, appearing spineless and incompetent to foes and allies alike. During combat, he was swift to panic and may accidentally activate his Quirk in the face of imminent danger, leaving himself vulnerable. He became more reluctant to use his full power when there were allies close to him, being afraid of hurting them through collateral damage from his explosive bolts. He became more confident in his fighting abilities when he was assured that all his allies will be safe from his powers. He didn't tolerate others looking down on him and his classmates, and would defend them if necessary. Whenever Denki exceeded his wattage limit, he lost his ability to discharge energy, with his entire personality changing into that of a giggling idiot for a certain period until he reverted to normal. In this state, he was always giving thumbs-ups as a way to let others know that he was okay.

Quirk -  Electrification;  Allowed him to store electricity and discharge it allowing him to cover his body in it. While he could also discharge this energy over a distance, Denki had little to no control over it, meaning it would go everywhere indiscriminately. Exceeding his wattage limit caused his brain to short-circuit, leaving him in a vulnerable state for 1 hour. Denki was also able to absorb and neutralize electricity and other lightning-based Quirks.

School - U.A. High

Occupation - Hero-in-Training

Also Known As - The Stun-Gun Hero; Chargebolt

Hero Chart Ranking - UNRANKED

Hero Costume - A plain white shirt, over which he wore an open black jacket with two white lightning patterns near the hem and collar, and a yellow-rimmed white lightning bolt around each of his shoulders, with matching pants a small white zig-zag near each of their cuffs and brown shoes. He had a single, square-shaped earphone over his right ear, resembling a radio antenna sticking out of the top and a lightning-bolt extension on the left. He wore a white belt that held his pointer ammo with and a white V-neck shirt. Around his right wrist, he wore a wristband with a circular mechanism from which he could shoot disc-shaped Pointers, which aided him in aiming his Quirk. He also wore a black choker with a silver buckle on the left side and a headset with a blue-tinted visor.

Fighting Specialty - Close & Support Combat

Favorite Food - Hamburgers

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

Kyouka Jirou (耳じ郎ろう響きょう香か Jirō Kyōka) - "You wanna talk... about being scared? Or strong? Or weak? Or 'special'? Well, I don't give a crap! You hear me? Screw all that! My problem is that you're the one... who made my pals cry!!"

Age - 19

Birthplace - Shizuoka Prefecture

Birthday -  August 1st

Blood type -  A+

Physical Description  -  A petite, fair-skinned girl with a slender build. She had triangular onyx eyes with notably long lower eyelashes and small eyebrows. Her dark-purple hair is shoulder-length, with an asymmetrical fringe that had two reflections shaped like sound waves on either side. Her most prominent features were the flexible, plug-like earphone jacks hanging from each of her earlobes; they acted like extra limbs that she was able to control at will and change their length if so desired. Following the Paranormal Liberation War, she gained a small scar on her right earphone jack. During the Final War, her left ear and earphone jack were blown off by All for One.  Shortly after the Final War, Kyouka wore a prosthetic in place of her left ear and earphone jack.

Personality Description - A pragmatic, unenthusiastic, blunt, and teasing personality that was mostly shown to those she found irritating, like her fellow classmate Denki Kaminari, whose cluelessness made him an easy target for her snarky comments. Kyouka was not always like this though, as she did enjoy socializing with others, in which case she was usually nice and friendly, most notably with Mina Ashido and the other girls in her class. Kyouka often gesticulated through her elongated earlobes in place of her hands. She could also be quite aggressive, evidenced by when she used the Earphone Jacks her Quirk provided, to physically punish people when provoked or to keep them in line, most notably Denki and Minoru. During hero activities, however, Kyouka prefered smarter approaches, usually by coming up with a plan herself. She was surprisingly organized and made sure to convey her ideas in a way that was easy to understand. Despite the fact that she came off as cold and indifferent, Kyouka also had a much more sensitive side, being very defensive towards her friends, empathetic with others' feelings, and getting flustered when her talents and capabilities are brought up. While Kyouka was hard to unnerve or surprise, she was afraid of horror-based activities and had an aversion to nudity. She was a bit self-conscious about her looks and style as well, becoming noticeably upset when she was not seen as attractive by Minoru, and attacking Denki and Yuuga Aoyama for commenting that her dorm room was 'unladylike'. Like her parents, Kyouka had a major interest in rock music and owned several instruments which she was able to play to some extent. However, she seemed to be somewhat embarrassed about her interests at first, because she perceived them as completely unrelated to heroism, but thanks to a great presentation during the U.A. School Festival, she was able to outgrow that mindset.

Quirk -  Earphone Jack;  She had a pair of headphone jacks hanging from her earlobes. When the jacks were plugged into something, Kyouka could channel the sound of her heartbeat through them in the form of a violent vibration attack. She could stretch her earlobes several meters. This Quirk also allowed her to hear minuscule sounds and vibrations from her surroundings.

School - U.A. High

Occupation - Hero-in-Training

Also Known As - The Hearing Hero; Earphone Jack

Hero Chart Ranking - UNRANKED

Hero Costume - Consisted of a black leather jacket, long salmon-colored shirt with several rips at the collar and hem, black pants, and boots with stereos built into their shafts. She also had a set of headphones with two bracelets that double up as her amplifiers and face paint to two larger chevron-shaped marks. 

Fighting Specialty - Close & Support Combat

Favorite Food (Headcanon) - Sukiyaki

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬:

TodoMomo/CreaShou - Shouto Todoroki x Momo Yaoyorozu

Relationship Type: Mutual Feelings

Relationship Status: Dense

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

IzuOcha/DekuRavity - Izuku Midoriya x Ochako Uraraka

Relationship Type: Mutual Feelings

Relationship Status: Awkward

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

KiriMina/PinkyRiot - Eijirou Kirishima x Mina Ashido

Relationship Type: Dating

Relationship Status: Flourishing

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

KamiJirou/ChargeJack - Denki Kaminari x Kyouka Jirou

Relationship Type: Dating

Relationship Status: Rockin'

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

SeroSetsu/LizardPhane - Hanta Sero x Setsuna Tokage

Relationship Type: Dating

Relationship Status: Pieced Together

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

TetsuKendou/BattleSteel - Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu x Itsuka Kendou

Relationship Type: Dating

Relationship Status: Thriving

Chapter Text

In which Shouto Todoroki unconsciously falls in love with Momo Yaoyorozu

Chapter Text

The gentle hum of conversation filled the room as the class trickled in, finding their seats and settling into the rhythm of another day. Morning sunlight streamed through the windows, casting soft, glowing patterns onto the desks and reflecting faintly off the polished floors.

Shouto Todoroki sat at his usual spot, seat number 15, near the back of the second-to-last far-left row. Next to him, seat number 20, was occupied by Momo Yaoyorozu. Their desks were close enough that their elbows almost brushed if either shifted too much, yet the space between them felt like an invisible boundary neither dared cross.

Shouto leaned back slightly, gaze tracing the faint outlines of cherry blossoms fluttering in the distance, his mismatched eyes half-lidded in quiet thought. The top button of his uniform shirt was undone, and his red tie hung a little loose - a stark contrast to Momo's impeccable appearance.

Momo sat prim and proper, her blazer smoothed to perfection and her red tie knotted precisely at her collar. Her raven-black hair gleamed faintly in the sunlight, pulled up into its signature spiky ponytail, with a strand falling neatly against her cheek. She seemed focused, her notebook open, her pen poised in her delicate but slightly calloused hand. Yet even as she read, her fingers fidgeted faintly with the edge of the page - a small tell of nervous energy she probably didn’t realize gave her away.

Shouto glanced sideways at her, his gaze lingering for a fraction longer than he intended. It wasn’t intentional - not at first, anyway - but something about her made him pause. Maybe it was the way the sunlight caught the faint scar on her temple, or the way her expression shifted, just slightly, as she jotted something down.

"Yaoyorozu," he said, his voice low but clear, cutting softly through the ambient noise.

Momo glanced up, her onyx eyes meeting his. For a moment, the classroom seemed quieter, the chatter fading into the background as their gazes held.

"Todoroki," she replied, her tone calm and polite, as always. "Is something wrong?"

He hesitated briefly, his brows furrowing faintly. There wasn’t anything wrong - not really. But he had said her name without fully knowing why, the sound slipping past his lips as naturally as breathing.

"No," he replied, his voice steady despite his brief uncertainty. "Just... good morning."

Momo blinked in surprise, before her lips curved into a soft smile that was warmer than he expected. "Good morning," she said, her voice a bit gentler than usual.

The air between them hung for a moment, charged with something neither of them quite understood, before the door slid open with a loud clatter. Aizawa entered, dragging his scarf lazily across his shoulders, his tired expression doing little to inspire a sense of urgency.

"Take your seats," he muttered, his voice monotone but sharp enough to command attention. "Class starts now."

The murmuring stopped, and everyone shuffled into place. Shouto leaned forward in his chair, his gaze shifting to the front of the room. But even as the lesson began, the faint trace of her smile lingered in the back of his mind - like the soft imprint of sunlight on his skin.

Aizawa-sensei’s monotone voice carried through the room, but Shouto found it difficult to focus. Not because he didn’t care about the lesson - he wasn’t the type to disregard his studies - but because his thoughts kept drifting sideways, circling back to Momo, who sat just a foot away.

He stole a glance at her from the corner of his eye, careful not to let the movement be too obvious. She was already scribbling notes with her usual precision, the faint scratch of her pen barely audible over the hum of Aizawa’s voice. Her posture was impeccable, back straight and shoulders relaxed, as if she hadn’t noticed how stifling the classroom felt this morning.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t sat next to her for years now. They’d worked side by side in training, fought together in battles, and survived the same war that had left its mark on everyone in this room. And yet, this felt... different. She felt different. Or maybe he was just noticing things he hadn’t let himself see before.

Her hair caught the sunlight, gleaming like polished obsidian. The scar on her temple - faint but unmistakable - seemed to glow softly in the light. He remembered the first time he’d seen that mark, back during their first year. It had been fresh then, a brutal reminder of how merciless their world could be. Now, it felt like part of her story, a testament to her resilience.

Shouto forced his gaze away, gripping his pen as if the act of writing down Aizawa-sensei’s lecture might anchor him to the present. But his mind wandered again, traitorous and insistent.

She was always so composed, so capable. Even back when they were first years, she’d been the one to strategize, to lead, to believe in the rest of them when no one else did. And yet, he could still remember the cracks in her armor - the moments when she doubted herself, when her confidence faltered. He wasn’t sure anyone else noticed those moments as much as he did.

Did she still carry those insecurities, buried beneath her calm exterior? Or had she learned to leave them behind, the way he was trying to leave behind the weight of his father’s shadow?

Shouto exhaled quietly and leaned back in his chair, his gaze flickering out the window. There was no point in overthinking this. He’d always admired Momo for her strength and kindness—it wasn’t unusual for him to feel... protective of her. Right? That’s all it was. Just admiration.

But then he remembered the way her smile had softened earlier, the faint warmth in her voice when she’d greeted him. His chest tightened, just slightly.

He glanced at her again. This time, she looked up, catching his gaze. For a moment, neither of them moved.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, her tone gentle but curious, just loud enough for him to hear over Aizawa-sensei’s droning lecture.

Shouto blinked, feeling the faintest heat rise to his cheeks. “No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “Nothing’s wrong.”

Her expression softened, and she nodded before returning her focus to her notes. He did the same, staring blankly at the page in front of him.

Nothing was wrong. At least, nothing he could explain.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The common room was comfortably loud that evening, filled with the ambient sound of chatter, laughter, and the faint clink of utensils against plates. Shouto sat at one of the smaller tables near the corner, his bowl of zaru soba in front of him. He twirled the noodles with his chopsticks, dipping them methodically into the cold broth before taking a bite. The simple, familiar meal was grounding, a quiet routine in an otherwise chaotic day.

Nearby, Eijirou and Mina were seated on the couch, leaning close as they talked. Their voices carried over the room, not loud enough to disrupt but enough that Shouto caught fragments of their conversation.

“...so, a double date with Kendou and Tetsutetsu this weekend!” Mina exclaimed, her pink cheeks glowing brighter than usual. “It’s going to be so much fun!”

Eijirou laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Tetsu’s already planning what he’s going to wear. Guy’s stressing like it’s a fight against All Might or something.”

Mina giggled, playfully shoving Eijirou’s arm. “That’s so him. But we need to look good, too! We can’t let Class 2-B outshine us!”

Shouto paused mid-bite, his chopsticks hovering over the bowl as he listened. Double dates. It wasn’t the first time he’d overheard something like this, not with the way things had changed around U.A. lately. Relationships, it seemed, were blossoming everywhere he looked.

He glanced across the room, his gaze landing on Izuku and Ochako, who were seated near the far wall. Izuku was animatedly explaining something, his hands moving in rapid gestures, while Ochako watched him with a soft smile. The faint pink dusting her cheeks was almost imperceptible, but Shouto noticed. He always did. Their feelings were so painfully obvious, even to someone as dense as him. Yet, they danced around it, too awkward - or perhaps too afraid - to address what was between them.

Then there was Kaminari and Jirou, sitting on the other side of the room, their heads bent together as they shared a set of earphones. They’d started dating recently, and while Kaminari’s enthusiasm was as loud as ever, there was a newfound softness in the way he interacted with Jirou - a quiet reverence that Shouto found... puzzling.

The list didn’t end there. Eijirou and Mina, of course, had been inseparable since the aftermath of the Final War. Tooru and Ojiro had been together even longer, their relationship steady and quiet, like a calm stream that flowed beneath the surface of their chaotic lives. Sero and Setsuna thought they were being discreet, but their shared glances and poorly hidden smiles gave them away. And Tsu and Tokoyami? That pairing had surprised him at first, but now it felt oddly fitting, their mutual understanding reflected in the comfortable silences they shared.

Shouto’s gaze drifted back to his bowl of soba as he took another bite, chewing slowly. He didn’t understand it - not really. This thing everyone seemed to be finding so naturally.

Romance.

What did it even mean? Was it supposed to feel different from the way he cared for his friends or his siblings? Was there some sign he was supposed to look for, some definitive moment where everything clicked into place?

He thought of Fuyumi, who had recently confided in him that she’d developed an interest in Keigo Takami—Hawks. The revelation had been... surprising, to say the least. Fuyumi had laughed softly when she’d told him, brushing it off as nothing serious, but there had been a glint in her eyes that said otherwise.

Shouto sighed quietly, swirling his chopsticks in the broth. His childhood hadn’t exactly prepared him for this. He understood responsibility, duty, strength. He understood how to fight, how to protect, how to push through pain. But love? That was a foreign concept - something his parents had twisted beyond recognition.

For a long time, he’d told himself it didn’t matter. That he didn’t need to understand it. But now, surrounded by classmates and friends who seemed to be figuring it out, he found himself... curious. What did it feel like? How did they know?

Was it in the way Izuku’s voice softened when he spoke to Ochako, or the way Jirou’s lips quirked up when Kaminari made another one of his terrible jokes? Was it in the warmth that lit Eijirou’s eyes when he looked at Mina, or the way Tokoyami seemed to find peace in Tsu’s presence?

Shouto stared down at his bowl, the steam curling faintly in the air. If it was so obvious to everyone else, why wasn’t it obvious to him?

His thoughts wandered, unbidden, to Momo. He didn’t know why - there was no logical reason for it. But he thought of the way her smile had softened earlier, the light in her eyes when she’d looked at him. There was something... comforting about her presence. Familiar.

Was that it? Was that what everyone else felt? Or was he just overthinking it, reading too much into something that wasn’t there?

He sighed again, setting his chopsticks down with deliberate care. The answers didn’t come, and he wasn’t sure they ever would. But for now, the zaru soba in front of him was far less complicated, and perhaps that was enough.

The common room grew quieter as the evening stretched on. The clinking of plates gradually died down as some of his classmates retired to their dorm rooms, leaving behind the soft murmur of distant conversation and the occasional hum of the refrigerator. Shouto sat in the same spot, his bowl of soba now empty save for a few stray noodles and the remaining broth.

He tapped his chopsticks against the edge of the bowl, his mind still looping through the same unanswered questions. Romance. Relationships. Love. He couldn’t stop turning the concept over in his head, like a piece of ice he couldn’t quite melt.

It wasn’t jealousy he felt, watching his classmates navigate their lives with such ease - or at least what looked like ease. No, it was something quieter than that, something closer to confusion. They made it seem so natural, this ability to connect with another person, to let themselves feel so much and not break under the weight of it.

Shouto rubbed the back of his neck and leaned back in his chair, letting his gaze wander to the window. Outside, the night was settling over U.A.’s campus, the sky a deep, inky blue scattered with faint stars.

The scrape of a chair caught his attention, drawing his eyes back to the center of the room. Mina had risen from the couch, tugging Eijirou up with her, her bright voice cutting through the stillness.

“C’mon, Kiri, let’s go plan that double date,” she said, practically dragging him toward the door.

Eijirou followed with a sheepish grin, casting a quick wave over his shoulder to the remaining stragglers in the room. Shouto gave a brief nod in return, though his focus was already drifting back inward, his thoughts circling like a slow burn.

He thought again of his classmates - the way their lives seemed to be diverging, branching out in directions he hadn’t fully anticipated. Izuku and Ochako. Kaminari and Jirou. Eijirou and Mina. Even Fuyumi, who had found herself drawn to someone as unexpected as Hawks.

It was strange, wasn’t it? How everyone around him seemed to be discovering something he hadn’t even begun to understand. It wasn’t as if he didn’t care about the people in his life. He did. But caring... that wasn’t the same as whatever it was they were feeling. Right?

His brow furrowed slightly as he thought of Momo again, unbidden. The memory of her earlier smile flickered in his mind, as vivid as if she were still sitting next to him. There was something comforting about it, something that lingered long after the moment had passed.

Was that what it felt like? To be drawn to someone in a way you couldn’t quite explain?

Shouto shifted in his chair, his arms crossing loosely over his chest. The thought felt... premature. He barely understood his own emotions most of the time, let alone how to distinguish them from one another. Admiration, gratitude, respect - those were familiar feelings. But anything beyond that? Anything more? It was a maze he didn’t know how to navigate.

He sighed quietly, his gaze dropping to the table. Maybe it wasn’t something you could figure out by thinking about it. Maybe it just... happened. Or maybe it didn’t. He wasn’t sure which answer was supposed to be comforting.

The sound of footsteps broke through his thoughts. Shouto glanced up to see Momo entering the common room, her expression calm but tired, a textbook cradled in her hands. She paused when she saw him, offering a polite nod before making her way to the opposite end of the room.

“Good evening, Todoroki,” she said as she passed, her voice soft but warm.

“Good evening,” he replied automatically, his gaze following her briefly before he caught himself and looked away.

She settled at a table by the window, flipping open her textbook and immediately immersing herself in its contents. Shouto stared at the empty space in front of him, his chopsticks still in his hand.

Maybe he was overthinking it. Or maybe there was something there, quietly waiting for him to notice it - something he didn’t yet have the words to describe.

But for now, he let the thought linger, like the faint warmth of sunlight against frost.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The training grounds were still shrouded in the pale light of dawn, the sun barely cresting over the horizon. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of dew and the earthy tang of soil. Most of the class was still asleep, but Shouto had woken early, the restlessness in his mind pushing him out of bed before his alarm could blare.

His breath formed soft clouds in the cool air as he stepped onto the field, the grass damp beneath his boots. He’d always found solace in the quiet of early mornings, when the world felt still, untouched by the noise and chaos of the day.

He rolled his shoulders and stretched his arms, letting his body fall into a familiar rhythm. Fire and ice flickered to life at his fingertips, the contrasting elements swirling in a delicate balance as he moved through his drills. The crackling of flames and the sharp hiss of freezing air filled the silence, a comforting symphony of his own making.

He was so absorbed in his movements that he almost didn’t notice the faint sound of footsteps approaching.

“Todoroki?”

The voice was soft yet clear, cutting through the quiet like a bell. He turned, his heterochromatic gaze landing on Momo as she stepped onto the field, her training uniform neat and pristine despite the early hour. She carried her bō staff in one hand, the polished wood glinting faintly in the light.

“Yaoyorozu,” he said, nodding in acknowledgment. “You’re up early.”

She smiled faintly, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I could say the same for you. Couldn’t sleep?”

“Something like that,” he admitted, his voice even. “You?”

She hesitated for a moment before nodding. “I thought some training might help clear my head.”

He understood the feeling all too well. Without another word, she moved to the opposite end of the field, setting her staff down as she began her own warm-ups. Shouto watched her for a moment, his eyes tracing the precise movements of her arms as she stretched. There was a grace to the way she carried herself, a quiet strength that seemed to radiate from her even in the simplest actions.

He turned back to his own drills, trying to refocus his thoughts, but the sound of her staff slicing through the air kept pulling his attention. Each strike was deliberate, controlled, her focus unwavering. It reminded him of how she was in battle - calm, strategic, always a step ahead.

“Do you ever wonder,” she said suddenly, breaking the silence, “why we do this?”

Shouto glanced at her, surprised by the question. She was still facing forward, her staff held at the ready, but there was a thoughtful edge to her voice.

“What do you mean?” he asked, stepping closer.

“This,” she said, gesturing vaguely to the field. “Training, improving, pushing ourselves. Even after everything we’ve been through... it feels like it’s never enough. Like there’s always something more we need to prove.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken weight. Shouto felt a pang of recognition, his own thoughts mirrored in her question.

“I used to think it was about proving something,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter now. “To my father, to myself. But... I’m not sure that’s it anymore.”

She turned to look at him, her onyx eyes searching his face. “Then what is it?”

He hesitated, the words forming slowly. “Maybe it’s about... becoming the kind of person I want to be. Someone I can be proud of.”

Her expression softened, and she nodded, her grip on the staff relaxing slightly. “I think... I understand that.”

They stood in silence for a moment, the quiet hum of the morning settling around them. There was something unspoken in the space between them, something fragile but steady, like the faint warmth of the sun breaking through the cold.

“Do you want to spar?” she asked finally, her tone lighter now, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

He tilted his head, considering. “Only if you’re prepared to lose.”

Her smile widened, a spark of determination flickering in her eyes. “We’ll see about that.”

As they moved into position, the rest of the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the quiet rhythm of their movements and the steady pulse of something neither of them could quite name.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The Todoroki household felt quieter than Shouto remembered. It wasn’t the suffocating silence of his childhood - the heavy, oppressive quiet that loomed over every room, thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. This was a different kind of quiet. Softer. Tentative. Like the house itself was learning how to breathe again.

He stepped inside, slipping off his shoes and setting them neatly by the door. The faint scent of lavender lingered in the air - a new addition, he realized, likely Fuyumi’s doing. The warmth of the late afternoon sun filtered through the windows, casting a golden glow over the familiar yet subtly changed space.

“Shouto, is that you?”

Fuyumi’s voice drifted from the kitchen, and a moment later, she appeared in the hallway, a dish towel slung over her shoulder. Her white hair, flecked with faint traces of crimson, caught the light, and her red-framed glasses slipped slightly down her nose as she smiled at him.

“It’s good to see you,” she said, wiping her hands on the towel as she approached. “You’ve been so busy with training, I wasn’t sure when you’d stop by again.”

Shouto gave a small nod, his usual stoic expression softening just slightly. “I thought it was time.”

Her smile widened, and she reached out to adjust the collar of his blazer. “Come on, everyone’s in the living room. Touya’s been asking about you.”

At the mention of his brother, Shouto’s gaze flickered briefly, the smallest crease forming between his brows. He followed Fuyumi down the hallway, the sound of voices growing louder as they approached.

The living room was bright and airy, the afternoon sunlight streaming through the large windows. Rei sat on the couch, her posture relaxed but poised, a mug of tea cradled in her hands. Her white hair framed her face in soft waves, and the scar that ran down the left side of her face seemed less jarring than Shouto remembered - as if time had softened its edges.

Beside her, Touya leaned back in an armchair, his legs stretched out and his arms crossed loosely over his chest. His white hair, streaked faintly with red at the crown, spiked up around his head, and the faint sheen of proper stitches glinted where the grafted patches of his skin met. He caught sight of Shouto and smirked, though the expression lacked its usual sharpness.

“Well, look who decided to visit,” Touya drawled, his voice low but teasing.

“Touya,” Rei chided gently, though there was a faint smile on her lips.

“It’s fine,” Shouto said, stepping further into the room. His eyes met Touya’s briefly before shifting to Rei. “Mother.”

“Shouto,” she greeted, her voice soft but warm. “It’s good to have you here.”

He nodded, settling into one of the empty chairs. For a moment, the room was quiet, save for the faint clink of Fuyumi setting a plate of snacks on the coffee table.

“How’s training going?” Rei asked, breaking the silence.

“Fine,” Shouto replied, his tone even. “It’s... busy.”

“Busy is good,” Fuyumi chimed in, sitting on the couch beside Rei. “Just don’t forget to take breaks. You push yourself too hard sometimes.”

Touya snorted, leaning forward to grab a piece of fruit from the plate. “That’s rich, coming from you. Pretty sure you’re the definition of overworked.”

Fuyumi rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, a faint blush rising to her cheeks.

Shouto watched the exchange quietly, his gaze flicking between his family members. There was a strange sense of normalcy to it - something he wasn’t entirely used to. For so long, their interactions had been strained, weighed down by the fractures in their family. But now, sitting here together, there was something... different.

He wasn’t sure if it was time, or effort, or simply the absence of Enji’s looming presence, but it felt as though they were beginning to heal. Slowly. Tentatively. Like the first cracks of light breaking through a long-frozen surface.

“How’s Natsuo?” he asked suddenly, his voice breaking the quiet.

Fuyumi glanced at him, her expression softening. “He’s doing well. He’s busy with work and settling in with his girlfriend, but he calls every now and then. He asks about you, you know.”

Shouto nodded, a faint pang of guilt tugging at his chest. He hadn’t seen his older brother in months, too caught up in training and the constant demands of hero work.

“Tell him I said hello,” he said quietly.

“I will,” Fuyumi replied, smiling gently.

The conversation drifted into lighter topics - updates on work, small anecdotes, and quiet laughter. Shouto listened more than he spoke, content to let the warmth of the moment settle around him.

Touya caught his gaze at one point, tilting his head slightly. “You’re quiet today.”

Shouto met his brother’s eyes, the turquoise depths holding a faint glimmer of something Shouto couldn’t quite place. “I’m always quiet.”

Touya smirked again, his expression softening into something almost unrecognizable - something closer to brotherly. “Yeah, but it suits you.”

Shouto didn’t reply, but the faintest trace of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

For the first time in a long time, he felt something he couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t closure, and it wasn’t perfect. But it was something. Something worth holding on to.

The conversation shifted when the faint hum of a motorized wheelchair sounded from the hallway. Shouto instinctively straightened in his seat, the easy calm of the moment tightening slightly in his chest.

Enji Todoroki entered the living room, his imposing frame diminished only slightly by the wheelchair he now occupied. His crimson hair was spiked as always, though faint traces of gray peeked through at the edges, and his turquoise eyes carried an intensity that hadn’t faded with time. The jagged scar on the left side of his face caught the light as he maneuvered the chair into the room, his movements steady despite the limitations.

“Shouto,” he said, his voice low and rough, carrying a faint tremor that hadn’t been there before. “It’s been a while.”

Shouto’s gaze met his father’s briefly before flickering away. “It has.”

Rei set her mug down, her posture stiffening slightly as she glanced between her son and her husband. Fuyumi shifted closer to her mother, her expression carefully neutral, though her hands fidgeted slightly in her lap.

Touya, however, leaned back in his chair, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he watched the interaction unfold. “Well, this just got interesting,” he muttered, earning a sharp look from Fuyumi.

Enji ignored the comment, his focus remaining on Shouto. “How’s your training?” he asked after a moment, his tone even but hesitant, as if he were still learning how to have these conversations.

“It’s fine,” Shouto replied, his voice flat. “Busy.”

Enji nodded, the corners of his mouth tightening slightly. “That’s good. I’m glad you’re... keeping at it.”

The silence that followed was heavy, stretching uncomfortably between them. Shouto shifted in his seat, his fingers curling loosely around the edge of his chair. He wasn’t sure what to say—what there was to say.

“It’s good to have Shouto here,” Fuyumi said finally, breaking the tension with her gentle voice. “We don’t see him enough these days.”

Rei smiled faintly, nodding in agreement. “It’s always nice when the family can be together.”

Shouto’s gaze flickered to his mother, her presence a quiet anchor in the room. There was a softness to her now that hadn’t existed in his childhood, a warmth that seemed to radiate through her words and gestures. It reminded him of why he’d come here in the first place - why he was trying, however haltingly, to rebuild these connections.

Touya leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he glanced between Shouto and Enji. “So,” he said, his tone casual but laced with mischief. “Are you two just going to sit there staring at each other, or are we actually going to talk like a real family for once?”

“Touya,” Fuyumi admonished, her voice sharp but not unkind.

Shouto exhaled slowly, his gaze dropping to the coffee table. “There’s nothing to talk about,” he said quietly, though the weight in his chest told a different story.

Enji’s hand tightened on the armrest of his wheelchair, his knuckles pale against the dark material. “Maybe not,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter now, almost subdued. “But... I’m here. If you ever decide there is.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of years of silence and unresolved pain. Shouto didn’t respond, his thoughts a tangled mess of resentment, confusion, and something he couldn’t quite name.

Rei placed a gentle hand on Enji’s arm, her touch steady and reassuring. “We’re all still figuring this out,” she said softly, her gaze moving between Shouto and Touya. “But we’ve come this far. That has to mean something.”

Touya scoffed, though there was no real bite to it. “Yeah, yeah. Group therapy, bonding, all that good stuff.” He glanced at Shouto, his smirk softening into something almost genuine. “You sticking around for dinner?”

Shouto hesitated, his gaze flickering briefly to Enji before settling on his brother. “Yeah,” he said finally. “I’ll stay.”

The tension in the room eased slightly, the quiet hum of conversation resuming as Fuyumi began discussing meal prep with Rei. Shouto leaned back in his chair, his thoughts still tangled but quieter now, the faint warmth of connection settling in the corners of his mind.

It wasn’t perfect. It probably never would be. But it was something. And for now, that was enough.

The conversation had drifted comfortably now, settling into a rhythm that felt far removed from the turbulent past they all shared. Fuyumi was recounting a story about her latest class - a student who’d accidentally set off the fire alarm trying to heat their lunch - while Rei laughed softly, the sound warm and genuine. Touya had leaned back in his chair, his smirk fading into something softer as he listened with mild amusement. Even Enji, though quiet, seemed to absorb the moment, his turquoise eyes flicking between his children with an expression that was hard to read.

“So,” Fuyumi said, turning to Shouto with a curious tilt of her head. “How are things at U.A. these days? I don’t think you’ve told us much about it recently.”

Shouto paused, caught slightly off guard by the question. He set his cup of tea down carefully, his gaze drifting toward the window for a moment before he replied. “Busy,” he said simply, though the word barely scratched the surface. “There’s always something - training, classes, patrols.”

Enji’s eyes sharpened slightly at the mention of training. “You’re managing, though? Keeping your stamina balanced?”

Shouto nodded. “I’m keeping it balanced. Phosphor is more stable now, but it still takes focus to maintain.” He hesitated briefly before adding, “It’s... more comfortable than it used to be.”

“That’s good,” Enji said, his tone low but firm, the closest he came to praise these days.

Rei smiled gently, her hands folded neatly in her lap. “And what about your friends? You’ve always spoken fondly of them when you visit.”

Shouto blinked, momentarily caught off guard again. He hadn’t realized how much they all cared to know about his life outside of these walls. But as he thought about it, a faint warmth settled in his chest, unexpected but not unwelcome.

“They’re... good,” he began, the words slow but deliberate. “Midoriya is still as focused as ever. He’s always pushing himself, even when he doesn’t need to. It’s... admirable, but I worry he’ll burn out one day.”

Fuyumi raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching upward. “I sense you’re speaking from experience.”

Shouto gave a faint shrug, his expression unchanged. “Maybe.”

“And what about Iida and Uraraka?” Rei asked, her tone light but curious.

“Iida is the same as always,” Shouto replied. “Meticulous. Organized. He’s a good leader, though he takes things too seriously sometimes. Uraraka... she’s kind. Hardworking. She worries about everyone, but she doesn’t give herself enough credit.”

Rei’s smile widened, though she didn’t press further.

Touya, however, leaned forward with a teasing glint in his eye. “You’ve got quite the network going on, huh? Anything... interesting happening there?”

Shouto frowned faintly, ignoring the implication in his brother’s tone. “It’s just friends.”

“Uh-huh,” Touya drawled, leaning back again.

Shouto turned his attention back to his tea, taking a moment before continuing. “There’s Sero, too. He’s... unique. He and Kaminari keep things entertaining, for better or worse.”

Fuyumi chuckled. “That’s the tape guy, right? You’ve mentioned him before.”

Shouto nodded, though his thoughts were already shifting to someone else - to the person who seemed to take up more space in his mind than he wanted to admit.

“And Yaoyorozu?” Rei asked gently, as if reading his thoughts.

Shouto blinked, his brow furrowing slightly as he searched for the right words. “She’s... one of the most capable people I know,” he began slowly, his voice gaining a faint edge of conviction. “She’s brilliant, and not just academically. The way she approaches problems, how she thinks through things—it’s impressive.”

Fuyumi tilted her head, her interest piqued. “You’ve always spoken highly of her.”

“She deserves it,” Shouto said simply, though the words carried an unexpected weight. “We have a lot in common. Our families, our Quirks... even our scars.”

Rei’s expression softened, her gaze steady on her son. “It sounds like you respect her a great deal.”

“I do,” Shouto admitted without hesitation. “She’s someone you can trust. Someone who doesn’t just talk about doing the right thing - she actually does it. She’s... dependable.”

Touya raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Someone’s got a favorite seatmate.”

Shouto shot him a look, his expression neutral but his ears faintly pink. “We work well together,” he said, as though that explained everything.

“And?” Fuyumi pressed, her smile teasing but kind.

“And... I admire her,” Shouto said, his voice quieter now but no less sincere. “She’s someone you can learn from. Someone who makes you want to be better.”

The room fell quiet for a moment, the weight of his words settling over them. Rei’s gaze remained warm, while Fuyumi’s smile grew wider. Even Touya looked vaguely impressed, though he didn’t comment further.

Enji, who had been silent through most of the conversation, finally spoke. “It sounds like she’s had a good influence on you.”

“She has,” Shouto said simply, his tone steady.

For the first time in a long time, he felt no hesitation in those words.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The campus was quiet in the late afternoon, the rush of the day giving way to a rare moment of calm. Shouto walked slowly along the paved path that wound through the grounds, his hands tucked into the pockets of his blazer. The breeze carried a faint chill, ruffling the loose strands of his hair and scattering a few cherry blossom petals across the stone.

His thoughts drifted as he walked, lingering on the visit with his family. It had gone... well, he supposed. Or at least as well as it could have. It was strange, being in that house again, surrounded by the people who knew him better than anyone - and yet, there was still so much they didn’t know.

He sighed quietly, his breath clouding faintly in the cool air. The weight of his father’s gaze, the teasing glint in Touya’s eyes, the warmth in his mother’s voice—they all lingered in his mind, fragments of a puzzle he wasn’t sure he could ever piece together.

The sound of footsteps pulled him from his thoughts. He glanced to the side to see Momo approaching, her ponytail swaying with each step. She carried a book in one hand, the other clutching a small bag of what looked like snacks.

“Todoroki,” she said, her voice breaking the quiet like a soft melody.

“Yaoyorozu,” he replied, nodding in greeting.

She fell into step beside him without hesitation, her presence as natural as the wind threading through the trees. “You seemed a little distracted in class earlier,” she said gently, glancing at him with a faint trace of concern. “Everything alright?”

Shouto hesitated, his gaze flickering to the path ahead. He wasn’t sure how to explain the tangled mess of thoughts swirling in his mind, but there was something steadying about her presence, something that made him feel... safe.

“I visited my family yesterday,” he said finally, his voice low but even.

Momo’s expression softened, and she nodded encouragingly. “How was it?”

He took a moment to consider his answer. “Better than I expected,” he admitted. “Things are... different now. Less tense. But it’s still hard, sometimes, to figure out where I fit in all of it.”

She nodded again, her gaze thoughtful. “It must be difficult, trying to rebuild those relationships after everything.”

“It is,” he said quietly. “But I think it’s worth it. Even if it doesn’t feel that way all the time.”

They walked in silence for a moment, the rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of birds filling the space between them. Shouto found his gaze drifting to her, drawn to the calm determination in her expression.

“What about you?” he asked suddenly, his tone soft but curious. “How’s your family?”

She hesitated, her steps slowing slightly. “Complicated,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “But... I’m trying, too.”

Shouto nodded, understanding more than he could put into words. For a moment, the silence between them felt heavier, weighed down by the unspoken struggles they both carried.

“You know,” he said quietly, “we’re not that different.”

She looked at him, her onyx eyes meeting his with a hint of surprise. “What do you mean?”

“Our families,” he said, his gaze steady. “Our Quirks, our... scars.” He hesitated briefly before adding, “Even the way we got into U.A.”

Momo’s lips curved into a small, thoughtful smile. “I suppose you’re right,” she said. “But it’s not just that. You’re someone I’ve always respected, Todoroki. The way you carry yourself, the way you fight for what you believe in - it’s inspiring.”

Shouto felt a faint heat rise to his cheeks, though he kept his expression composed. “You make it sound like I have it all figured out,” he said, his tone slightly dry. “I don’t.”

“Neither do I,” she replied, her smile softening. “But that’s alright. We’re still learning, aren’t we?”

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “We are.”

They reached a bench beneath a cherry blossom tree, the petals scattering softly around them. Momo set down her bag and book, gesturing for him to sit.

As they settled on the bench, the conversation drifted to lighter topics - training, classmates, and the little moments that made their days brighter. And for the first time in what felt like a long while, Shouto felt a sense of ease, the weight of his thoughts lifted by the quiet warmth of her presence.

The soft rustling of cherry blossom petals followed Shouto as he made his way back to the dorms. The sun had dipped lower in the sky, the warm light melting into shades of amber and soft lavender. He tucked his hands into his blazer pockets, his mind unusually restless despite the quiet of the evening.

He replayed the conversation with Momo in his mind, turning over her words like they held some hidden meaning he hadn’t yet uncovered. It wasn’t unusual for them to talk—after all, they sat next to each other in class, partnered in training more often than not. But something about today had felt... different.

He frowned slightly, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. Different how? It wasn’t the first time he’d noticed how easily she carried herself, how she seemed to command respect without ever raising her voice. And it wasn’t the first time he’d admired her thoughtfulness, her quiet strength.

But there was something else - a tugging at the edges of his mind, subtle but persistent. He thought of the way she’d smiled at him earlier, the soft curve of her lips and the quiet warmth in her eyes. It wasn’t just politeness, was it? Or maybe it was, and he was just overthinking.

Shouto exhaled sharply, his breath visible in the cooling air. Overthinking. That seemed to be a pattern lately, especially where she was concerned.

It wasn’t like he sought her out intentionally. She just... happened to be there. At his side during training, across the room during class, walking next to him in the quiet moments between. But then again, she always seemed to notice when he was distracted, her gentle questions cutting through the fog of his thoughts with an ease that surprised him.

He stopped walking, his gaze lifting to the horizon where the sun was just beginning to dip below the rooftops. What was it about her that made him feel this way? It wasn’t discomfort, exactly. More like... awareness. Of the way her voice softened when she spoke to him. Of the way her presence seemed to steady him when his thoughts ran too deep. Of the way he found himself looking for her, almost without realizing it.

Shouto’s frown deepened, his mind circling back to the facts, the things he knew for certain. He respected her - admired her, even. She was someone he could trust completely, someone who shared so many of the same struggles he did. Their families, their quirks, their scars. It wasn’t surprising that he felt a connection to her.

But this? This was different.

He thought of the way her onyx eyes had met his under the cherry blossoms, the light catching in her hair as the petals swirled around them. The image stuck in his mind, unshakable, and he found himself wondering if she remembered it too.

What did that mean? Was this... normal? To think about someone like this? To carry the sound of their voice in your mind long after they were gone? To feel like the moments you spent together were somehow brighter, sharper, more vivid than the rest?

Shouto sighed, running a hand through his hair. It didn’t make sense. None of it did. And yet, the thought of her lingered, warm and constant, like the faintest trace of sunlight against frost.

Chapter Text

The training grounds were quiet in the late afternoon, most of the students having already wrapped up their sessions for the day. Shouto had just finished his own training routine, the faint hum of residual heat and cold still buzzing along his skin as he walked back toward the entrance.

He paused when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. Across the field, near the obstacle course, Momo stood with her bō staff, her stance poised and deliberate. She was practicing alone, her cape absent, her crimson leotard catching the last rays of sunlight.

Curiosity stopped him in his tracks. He wasn’t intentionally watching - it felt... intrusive, almost - but he found himself unable to look away. Her movements were fluid yet precise, every strike and sweep of her staff executed with unwavering focus. The controlled power behind each motion was mesmerizing, a quiet reminder of just how capable she truly was.

Shouto leaned slightly against one of the nearby pillars, his arms crossed loosely over his chest as he observed. It wasn’t unusual for Momo to stay late - she was always looking for ways to improve, always pushing herself. But something about seeing her like this, entirely absorbed in her own rhythm, struck a chord he couldn’t quite name.

There was a certain grace to the way she moved, a balance of strength and elegance that was uniquely hers. He thought of the way she fought during missions - how her quick thinking had saved them more times than he could count, how her resourcefulness turned even the most desperate situations into opportunities. She had a kind of brilliance that couldn’t be measured, a confidence that came not from arrogance but from knowing exactly who she was and what she stood for.

And yet, she was human, too. He had seen her doubts, the moments when she faltered, when the weight of her responsibilities seemed too much to bear. He thought of those moments now, of the quiet vulnerability she carried with such dignity. It was something he respected deeply - something that made her feel... real.

As she spun the staff in a final arc, planting it firmly in the ground, she let out a breath, her shoulders relaxing. The faintest hint of a smile touched her lips as she straightened, wiping a stray strand of hair from her face.

Shouto felt his chest tighten slightly, though he couldn’t explain why. There was nothing unusual about any of this - nothing he hadn’t seen before. And yet, the image of her standing there, framed by the warm light of the setting sun, felt strangely vivid, as if it had etched itself into his memory without his permission.

Momo turned then, her gaze catching his as if she’d only just noticed him. Her expression shifted, surprise flickering across her features before giving way to a soft smile.

“Todoroki,” she called, her voice breaking the quiet. “Were you waiting for me?”

Shouto blinked, straightening slightly. “No,” he said quickly, his tone neutral but not unkind. “I was just passing by.”

She nodded, picking up her staff and walking toward him, her movements as composed as ever. “How was your training?”

“It was fine,” he replied, though his focus was more on her now than his earlier session. “You?”

“It was productive,” she said, her smile widening slightly. “Sometimes it’s nice to practice alone. It helps me clear my mind.”

He nodded, understanding the sentiment all too well. “You’re... good with that,” he said, nodding toward her staff.

Her cheeks flushed faintly, though her composure remained intact. “Thank you. I’ve worked hard to improve.”

Their conversation fell into a comfortable rhythm, the kind that came naturally to them - quiet, steady, unhurried. And yet, as they talked, Shouto couldn’t shake the strange feeling in his chest, the faint pull that seemed to tether his thoughts to her even as they walked back toward the dorms.

It wasn’t distraction, exactly. More like... awareness.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The sun hung high over U.A.’s expansive training grounds, its golden rays glinting off the polished surfaces of the students’ Hero Costumes. Class 2-A stood in a loose semicircle around Aizawa-sensei, their attention divided between him and the dusty field before them.

“Today, we’re going to switch things up,” Aizawa said, his voice flat but carrying the weight of authority. His scarf hung lazily around his neck, but his sharp eyes swept over the students with practiced precision. “Instead of pairing up to work together, you’ll be sparring against each other. One-on-one. Consider it a test of both your individual skills and your ability to adapt under pressure.”

A ripple of murmurs spread through the class, excitement and apprehension mingling in equal measure. Kaminari leaned over to whisper something to Kirishima, who grinned and nodded, his sharp teeth catching the light.

Aizawa held up a hand, silencing the chatter with a single glance. “The pairs will be chosen randomly.”

Momo, standing near the front of the group, straightened her posture, her expression composed but focused. Shouto, a few steps behind her, adjusted the bracers on his wrists, his gaze calm but expectant.

As Aizawa began listing off the pairs, the tension in the air grew. Kirishima was matched against Tokoyami. Jirou against Kaminari. Midoriya against Bakugou - which drew a slight groan from the green-haired boy and a triumphant smirk from his blond rival.

“And finally,” Aizawa said, his eyes flicking briefly to the clipboard in his hands, “Todoroki and Yaoyorozu.”

Momo blinked, her onyx eyes widening slightly before a faint smile tugged at her lips. “Of course,” she muttered under her breath, so softly that only Shouto, standing just behind her, might have heard.

She turned to glance at him, her expression carefully neutral but with a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. “Well, I suppose this was bound to happen eventually,” she said, her tone light but edged with determination.

Shouto tilted his head slightly, his gaze steady. “I guess we’ll see how well we’ve learned from each other,” he said simply, though there was a flicker of something in his chest he couldn’t quite define.

The rest of the class scattered to observe the various matches, while Shouto and Momo made their way to an open section of the field. The sun glinted off Momo’s crimson costume, her cape flowing behind her as she adjusted the strap of her utility belt. Shouto’s navy blue uniform seemed to absorb the sunlight, the metal plating on his tactical vest gleaming faintly.

They stood opposite each other, a quiet tension building between them as they prepared for the match. Shouto flexed his fingers, the faint crackle of ice forming at his fingertips before dissipating. Momo, meanwhile, spun her bō staff once, the polished wood catching the light as she settled into a ready stance.

“Whenever you’re ready,” she said, her voice calm but resolute.

Shouto nodded, his expression unreadable. He took a step forward, his left side flickering with the faintest glow of heat. “Don’t hold back,” he said, his tone steady.

She smiled faintly, the corner of her lips quirking upward. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

The match began with a burst of motion, Shouto launching a sheet of ice across the ground toward Momo. She reacted instantly, her staff slamming into the ground as she vaulted over the icy surface, landing gracefully a few feet closer to him.

Shouto’s respect for her precision deepened as he pivoted, switching to a burst of flames that forced her to sidestep. But even as she dodged, her hand moved to her utility belt, pulling out a capsule that transformed into a shield just in time to block a follow-up wave of heat.

Their movements were like a dance, each strike and counterstrike flowing seamlessly into the next. Shouto found himself pushing harder than he expected, not out of a desire to win but out of a deep respect for her skill. She was relentless, her strategies evolving with every move he made, her composure unshaken even as the intensity of the fight grew.

It wasn’t until she managed to close the distance between them, her staff sweeping low and forcing him to step back, that he realized just how much he trusted her. Not just her abilities, but her judgment—her unwavering focus, her ability to adapt and overcome.

And as the spar continued, Shouto felt that strange, familiar pull again, the quiet awareness of her presence that had been growing stronger with every passing day. He didn’t understand it—didn’t know what it meant—but he couldn’t ignore it either.

Momo stepped back, her breathing steady as she raised her staff in a defensive stance. “You’re holding back,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact but tinged with a faint challenge.

Shouto blinked, caught off guard by the observation. “I’m not,” he said, though he realized as he spoke that it wasn’t entirely true.

She raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing at her lips. “Then let’s see what happens when you don’t.”

The weight of her bō staff felt familiar in Momo’s hands, grounding her as she moved through the sparring match. Todoroki was maintaining his distance, as she expected. The faint crackle of ice and heat radiated around him, his ranged attacks creating barriers that forced her to stay on the defensive.

Momo narrowed her eyes, calculating the distance between them as she dodged another wave of frost that swept across the ground. He was holding back. She wasn’t sure how she knew - perhaps it was the lack of intensity behind his strikes, or the brief pauses in his movements - but it was clear to her nonetheless.

“Todoroki,” she called out, her voice steady but firm, “you know that keeping me at a distance won’t last forever.”

His mismatched eyes flickered briefly to hers, unreadable, before he sent another burst of flames sweeping toward her.

Momo shifted quickly, her staff spinning in a defensive arc as she made a heat-resistant shield from her arm using her Quirk. The flames dissipated against the shield, and she seized the opportunity to move closer, her feet light and quick against the ground.

He stepped back instinctively, his posture tense as she closed the gap between them. She could see it in his movements - his reluctance to engage in close quarters. Todoroki was skilled, unquestionably so, but she knew his strength lay in ranged combat. That was where he was most comfortable, where his power could be unleashed without restraint.

She had no intention of letting him stay comfortable.

Momo spun her staff in a rapid arc, aiming for his right side. He dodged, his movements smooth but slightly stilted as he adjusted to the proximity. She pressed forward, her strikes deliberate but controlled, forcing him to step back again and again.

Her mind raced with strategies, analyzing his every movement. She noted the way his left side flickered with heat, the subtle shifts in his footing that signaled an incoming attack. Her own pulse quickened, but she maintained her composure, her focus unwavering.

“Todoroki,” she said again, her tone light but challenging, “if this is you holding back, I’ll admit I’m disappointed.”

His brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of something unreadable passing across his face. “I’m not,” he said, though the words sounded more like an echo of uncertainty than conviction.

Momo smirked faintly, her grip on the staff tightening. “Then show me.”

She moved swiftly, her staff sweeping toward his left side as she ducked beneath a burst of heat. His reactions were quick - almost too quick - but she could see the subtle hesitation in his movements, the way he adjusted to keep her at bay without fully committing to the fight.

It wasn’t frustration she felt - it was curiosity. Why was he holding back? Was it respect? Caution? Something else entirely?

Her focus sharpened as she shifted her weight, feinting to the right before pivoting and sweeping low toward his legs. He dodged again, his expression neutral but his breathing slightly heavier now. She was pushing him, and she could tell it was unsettling him in ways he wasn’t used to.

'Good,' she thought, her smirk widening.

That was exactly what she wanted.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

From the observation room, Izuku Midoriya leaned forward, his green eyes fixed on the sparring match below. His notebook rested on the table in front of him, though he hadn’t written anything yet. He was too absorbed in watching Todoroki and Yaoyorozu, his mind racing with thoughts and observations.

“Man, they’re intense,” Kaminari muttered from behind him, his voice tinged with awe.

“Yeah,” Kirishima agreed, his sharp grin widening. “Momo’s really giving it her all. Look at her go!”

Izuku didn’t respond, his gaze narrowing as he focused on Todoroki’s movements. Something was off - or rather, something was different. Todoroki’s usual precision and intensity were there, but there was a hesitancy to his actions, a quiet restraint that Izuku couldn’t quite explain.

Yaoyorozu, on the other hand, was relentless. Her strategy was clear, her movements calculated and efficient. She wasn’t just fighting; she was challenging him, pushing him in a way that seemed to unravel his usual confidence.

“Do you think Todoroki’s holding back?” Ochako asked quietly, her brows furrowed in thought.

Izuku tilted his head, considering. “I think... he doesn’t know how to fight her the way he fights everyone else.”

Kaminari raised an eyebrow, leaning over the back of Izuku’s chair. “What do you mean by that?”

Izuku tapped his pen against the notebook, his thoughts swirling. “Todoroki usually fights with one goal - to overwhelm his opponent. It’s not just about defeating them; it’s about control. But with Yaoyorozu... I think he respects her too much to treat her like just another opponent.”

The room fell quiet for a moment, the weight of Izuku’s words settling over them.

“Respect, huh?” Kirishima said finally, his grin softening. “Yeah, I can see that. They’ve always had this... connection, you know? Ever since First Year's Final Exams.”

Izuku nodded slowly, his eyes still fixed on the match below. There was something unspoken between Todoroki and Yaoyorozu, something that went beyond their shared traits and mutual admiration. It was in the way Todoroki’s gaze lingered on her, the way his movements seemed more thoughtful, more deliberate when he faced her.

And as Yaoyorozu closed the distance between them once again, her staff sweeping toward Todoroki’s side, Izuku couldn’t help but wonder if Todoroki even realized the depth of what he was feeling.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The field seemed quieter than it should have. Shouto focused on the rhythmic crackle of frost and flame at his fingertips, grounding himself in the familiar sensations of his quirk. Momo was moving toward him with steady precision, her bō staff spinning in calculated arcs that seemed to leave no room for error.

He knew her strategy - it wasn’t hard to predict. She was closing the distance, forcing him out of his comfort zone, where his ranged attacks held the most power. It was smart, tactical, the kind of move he had come to expect from her.

And yet, he hesitated.

When she vaulted over a low wave of ice, her landing graceful and sure, his timing faltered by a fraction of a second. His fire should have followed immediately, cutting off her next move, but instead, it flickered briefly, dissolving into the air before he reignited it.

She was closer now, her staff sweeping low toward his legs. He shifted quickly, dodging the strike but feeling the faintest twinge of unsteadiness in his footing. His reactions weren’t slow - they couldn’t be - but there was a looseness to his movements, an unfamiliar lack of precision.

Her staff spun again, aiming high this time, and his gaze flicked to her face just as she struck. The determination in her expression was unwavering, her focus sharp and unyielding. He didn’t realize he’d paused for a split second too long until the edge of her staff grazed his bracer, knocking him slightly off balance.

It wasn’t the force of the hit that threw him - it was the way her focus drew his own, pulling him into the quiet intensity of her presence.

Shouto frowned faintly, regaining his footing as he stepped back. What was wrong with him? He had sparred with her before, worked alongside her countless times. This shouldn’t feel any different. But it did.

Momo advanced again, her movements fluid yet deliberate, leaving him little room to counter. He sent a burst of frost toward her, but she dodged with ease, her staff spinning in an arc that forced him back another step. His fire flickered to life on his left side, but his control wavered, the heat dissipating before it could fully reach her position.

She was close now - too close. He could feel the air shift with each strike of her staff, the faint scent of vanilla and roses lingering faintly as she moved. His gaze flickered to the scar on her left temple, the memory of how she’d earned it surfacing unbidden. The way the sunlight caught in her hair as she pivoted - everything about her presence seemed sharper, more vivid than it should have been.

“Todoroki,” she said, her voice cutting through the quiet tension, “you’re hesitating.”

Her words struck him harder than her staff had, the realization settling uncomfortably in his chest. He dodged her next strike, sending a burst of fire to the ground between them, but even that felt half-hearted.

He wasn’t holding back deliberately - at least, he didn’t think he was. But his focus was slipping, his movements faltering, and it was her fault. Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe he was just... distracted.

She pushed forward again, her staff sweeping toward his side, and he barely blocked it with a sheet of ice. The force of the strike sent frost scattering around them, glinting faintly in the sunlight.

His heart was racing now, though it wasn’t from the exertion of the fight. His breathing was steady, his energy reserves far from depleted, but there was a tightness in his chest that he couldn’t shake.

Momo stepped back, her staff held at the ready, her expression calm but questioning. “You’re distracted,” she said simply, her tone neither accusatory nor amused.

“I’m not,” he replied quickly, though even he wasn’t sure if it was true.

She tilted her head slightly, her gaze steady on his. “Then stop hesitating.”

Shouto exhaled sharply, narrowing his eyes as he reignited the flames at his fingertips. He couldn’t afford to let this continue - to let his own thoughts undermine his focus.

But even as he launched another wave of frost toward her, the quiet pull of her presence lingered, unshakable, like the faint echo of warmth against a cold surface.

Shouto had always preferred distance when he fought. It wasn’t just about the range his quirk afforded - it was the precision, the control, the space it allowed him to think and react. But Momo wasn’t letting him keep that space, and with every calculated step closer, he could feel his control slipping further out of reach.

She was relentless, her movements sharp and deliberate, her staff sweeping low and high in alternating arcs that left him little room to maneuver. His ice responded instinctively, forming barriers that she vaulted over with ease. The flames at his fingertips flickered, their heat dissipating into the air as he adjusted to block her next strike.

He dodged again, his footing quick but slightly unsteady. Her staff spun in a rapid arc, forcing him to step back, but there was nowhere left to retreat. She closed the gap, her presence suddenly overwhelming, and he was forced to raise his bracer to block the next swing.

The impact sent a faint vibration through his arm, the force more controlled than he expected. She wasn’t fighting recklessly - she never did. Every strike was measured, calculated, aimed not to overwhelm him but to unbalance him.

She succeeded.

Shouto tried to pivot, his left side flickering with heat as he sent a controlled burst of flames toward the ground. But Momo was faster, her staff spinning to deflect the heat and sending him a step further off balance.

Her proximity was disorienting. The scent of vanilla and roses lingered faintly as she moved, and he caught a glimpse of the scar on her temple before his gaze flickered away, unable to linger for more than a second. He wasn’t sure why - wasn’t sure what it was about her presence that unsettled him - but it was enough to make him hesitate.

His hesitation cost him.

She feinted left, her staff sweeping low and forcing him to dodge awkwardly to the right. He adjusted quickly, but the shift in footing left him open, and she stepped closer, her movements as fluid as water.

“Todoroki,” she said, her voice steady but sharp, cutting through the noise of their sparring, “what’s holding you back?”

He frowned, his gaze locking onto hers for a brief moment. “I’m not holding back,” he replied, though the words felt hollow even to him.

Her lips curved into a faint smirk, her eyes narrowing in challenge. “Then fight me like you mean it.”

The words struck harder than they should have. She wasn’t mocking him - not really - but there was a weight to her tone, an expectation he couldn’t ignore.

Shouto shifted his stance, forcing himself to focus as he sent another burst of frost toward her. The icy sheet spread across the ground, but she countered with a shield from her utility belt, the frost scattering harmlessly as she closed the distance again.

She was close now - too close. He raised his bracer to block her next strike, but her movements were faster, sharper, forcing him to step back again and again. His fire flickered in response, but even that felt half-hearted, his control slipping under the weight of her relentless presence.

Momo’s gaze met his briefly, her expression calm but questioning, as if she were still trying to figure out why he was hesitating. He didn’t know the answer - not really.

But as she pressed forward again, her staff sweeping upward and forcing him to dodge sideways, he felt that familiar tightness in his chest - the strange pull that seemed to anchor his thoughts to her, no matter how hard he tried to fight it.

What was this? Why couldn’t he focus?

Her movements shifted again, her strategy evolving with each step. She feinted high this time, her staff aimed at his shoulder before sweeping low toward his legs. He countered with ice, the frost spreading across the ground in a controlled burst, but her shield deflected it effortlessly, her staff spinning in another arc that forced him closer to the edge of the field.

“Stop hesitating,” she said again, her tone softer now but still firm.

Her words echoed in his mind, drowning out the sound of his own breathing, the crackle of frost and flame at his fingertips.

She was right. He was hesitating. But the reason why remained frustratingly out of reach, like a shadow just beyond his grasp.

And as her next strike connected with his bracer, sending him a step backward, he realized something unsettling. It wasn’t just her strength, her skill, or her determination that was throwing him off.

It was her.

Momo’s breathing was steady, though her muscles burned with the strain of the sparring match. The fight had lasted longer than she’d anticipated, Todoroki countering her every move with bursts of frost and flame that kept her on edge. And yet, she could see it - the cracks in his precision, the hesitation in his movements.

She wasn’t sure what was distracting him, but she intended to use it to her advantage.

Pivoting swiftly, she spun her bō staff in a high arc, her feet light against the ground as she closed the distance between them once more. Todoroki’s frost swept toward her, but she deflected it with a shield from her utility belt, the icy shards scattering harmlessly around her.

He stepped back, his flames flickering faintly at his side, but she pressed forward, refusing to let him regain control of the fight. Her staff struck low toward his legs, forcing him to dodge awkwardly, his footing unsteady.

“Todoroki,” she said, her voice sharp but steady, “if you keep hesitating, you’ll lose.”

His mismatched eyes flicked to hers, something unreadable passing across his face. “I’m not hesitating,” he said, but the faint edge of uncertainty in his voice told her otherwise.

Momo narrowed her eyes, her grip on the staff tightening as she feinted to the right, only to sweep low toward his left. He countered with a burst of flame, but it was poorly timed, the heat dissipating before it could reach her. She closed the gap between them, her movements deliberate yet relentless.

The fight was no longer about strategy - it was instinct, pure and simple. Her body moved without hesitation, each strike and counterstrike a testament to hours of training and discipline. Todoroki’s responses were quick but sloppy, his focus slipping further with every passing second.

She could see it in his posture, the way his gaze flickered to her face as if drawn there against his will. What was he thinking? She didn’t have time to wonder, her focus zeroed in on the fight.

As she spun her staff in another arc, aiming for his right side, he raised his bracer to block the strike, the force of the impact sending a faint vibration through the air. They were close now - too close for him to rely on his Quirk alone. She could see the tension in his jaw, the faint flicker of confusion in his eyes as he adjusted his footing.

'Good,' she thought, her lips curving into a faint smirk. She had him.

But Todoroki wasn’t giving up. His left side flared with heat, forcing her to dodge as the burst of flame grazed the edge of her cape. The movement threw her off balance, her footing faltering for just a moment - a moment Todoroki seized.

He shifted his weight, his arms moving to deflect her next strike, but she countered quickly, using the momentum to sweep her staff low toward his legs. He stumbled, the ground beneath him slick with frost, and for a brief second, the fight dissolved into chaos.

Momo lunged forward, her staff colliding with his bracer once more, and they both lost their balance, the world tilting as they hit the ground in an unceremonious heap.

The sound of the buzzer echoed across the training grounds, signaling the end of the match.

Momo blinked, her vision clearing as she realized their position - her hands braced against the ground on either side of Todoroki’s head, her knees pinning him down lightly. His mismatched eyes stared up at her, wide with surprise, his breathing uneven.

For a moment, neither of them moved, the world around them seeming to pause in a suspended stillness.

“It’s... a draw,” Momo said finally, her voice quieter than she intended.

Todoroki’s lips parted slightly, as if to respond, but no words came. His expression was unreadable, a faint flush rising to his cheeks as his gaze flickered briefly to hers and then away.

Momo pushed herself up quickly, her composure slipping for just a second before she steadied herself, extending a hand to help him up. “Good match,” she said, her tone carefully neutral.

He took her hand, his grip firm but hesitant, and nodded. “You too.”

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

From his spot in the observation room, Kaminari leaned back in his chair, his grin practically splitting his face. “Did you see that?” he said, his voice carrying over the chatter of the other students. “That was straight out of a rom-com!”

Jirou, seated beside him, rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the faint smirk tugging at her lips. “You’re reading too much into it,” she said, though her tone lacked conviction.

“I’m just saying,” Kaminari continued, gesturing wildly toward the field below, “there was some serious tension there. I mean, did you see the way Shouto froze up when Momo was on top of him? Classic!”

“Do you ever stop talking?” Bakugou muttered from the corner, his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall.

Kaminari ignored the comment, leaning forward to get a better view of the field. Todoroki and Momo were walking off the training grounds now, their conversation too quiet to hear, but their body language said enough. Todoroki was as stiff as ever, while Momo’s composed exterior betrayed the faintest trace of... what was that, amusement?

Kaminari grinned, nudging Jirou with his elbow. “I’m telling you, there’s something there.”

“You’re impossible,” she said, though she was smiling now.

“Maybe,” Kaminari said, leaning back again with a satisfied sigh. “But hey, I know Momo better than anyone, and I’m calling it now - those two are going to be something someday.”

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The common room was unusually quiet for a Saturday afternoon, the usual chaos of Class 2-A replaced by a rare moment of calm. Shouto sat on the couch, his arms crossed as he stared at the notebook in his lap. It wasn’t his own - it was one of Momo’s, left behind after their last study session. He’d meant to return it to her, but somehow, he hadn’t gotten around to it yet.

He frowned slightly, his gaze drifting to the neat handwriting on the open page. The notes were meticulous, every line perfectly aligned, every word carefully chosen. It was so... her.

Shouto closed the notebook with a quiet sigh, setting it aside as he leaned back against the couch. He wasn’t sure why he’d been thinking about her so much lately. It wasn’t unusual for them to spend time together - they were seatmates, after all, and often partnered in training. But lately, he’d found himself wanting to know more.

Not just about her Quirk or her strategies, but about her. What she liked, what made her laugh, what she thought about when she wasn’t busy saving the world.

The thought unsettled him, though he couldn’t quite explain why.

“Yo, Todoroki!”

Shouto looked up to see Kaminari strolling into the room, his usual grin plastered across his face. He flopped onto the couch beside Shouto, stretching his arms over the backrest.

“What’s up?” Kaminari asked, tilting his head. “You look like you’re thinking way too hard about something.”

Shouto hesitated for a moment before deciding that Kaminari, of all people, might actually be helpful. “You’re close with Yaoyorozu, right?”

Kaminari blinked, his grin widening. “Yeah, we’re pretty tight. Why?”

Shouto glanced at the notebook again, his expression unreadable. “What does she like?”

Kaminari raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. “What do you mean, ‘what does she like’? Like, her favorite food? Her hobbies? Her favorite color?”

“All of it,” Shouto said simply, his tone as serious as ever.

Kaminari stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter. “Dude, are you trying to impress her or something?”

Shouto frowned, his brow furrowing slightly. “No. I just... want to get to know her better.”

Kaminari smirked, leaning back again. “Alright, alright. Let’s see... She likes gyoza, obviously. She’s into classical music and reading - big surprise there. And her favorite color is deep magenta, I think. Or maybe it’s gold? Something fancy like that.”

Shouto nodded thoughtfully, filing the information away. “What about her... preferences?”

Kaminari blinked, his grin faltering slightly. “Preferences? Like, what kind of books she likes?”

“No,” Shouto said, his tone still serious. “Her... sexuality.”

Kaminari froze, his eyes widening as he stared at Shouto. “Wait, what?”

“I’m curious,” Shouto said, his expression completely neutral. “I recently learned that Jirou is bisexual, and I’ve heard about other sexualities around school. I was wondering about Yaoyorozu.”

Kaminari blinked again before bursting into laughter, clutching his sides as he doubled over. “Oh my gosh, Todoroki, you can’t just ask that out of nowhere!”

Shouto tilted his head, his confusion evident. “Why not?”

Kaminari wiped a tear from his eye, still chuckling. “Man, you’re something else. But to answer your question, pretty sure she’s straight.”

“Heterosexual,” Shouto said, repeating the word with a faint nod of understanding.

Kaminari blinked, his grin faltering slightly. “Uh... yeah. That’s the same thing.”

Shouto nodded again, his expression thoughtful. “I see.”

Kaminari stared at him for a moment before shaking his head with a laugh. “You’re seriously the weirdest guy I know. But hey, if you’re trying to get closer to her, just be yourself. She already thinks you’re cool, you know.”

Shouto frowned slightly, his gaze drifting to the notebook again. “I’m not trying to impress her,” he said quietly, though the words felt less certain than before.

Kaminari smirked, leaning back with a satisfied sigh. “Sure, man. Whatever you say.”

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows of the U.A. dorms, casting long shadows across the polished floors. Shouto held the notebook in his hands, its weight feeling oddly significant as he made his way toward the common room.

He wasn’t sure why he felt so... deliberate about this. It was just a notebook, after all - notes for a subject they both excelled in. Returning it shouldn’t have been complicated. And yet, he had spent more time than he cared to admit debating whether to knock on her dorm room door or wait until she came downstairs.

He didn’t have to decide. As he entered the common room, he saw Momo sitting at one of the long tables near the window, a textbook open in front of her and a cup of tea steaming gently at her side. Her cape was draped neatly over the back of her chair, her hair falling loosely over one shoulder as she made a note in the margins of her book.

Shouto paused for a moment, watching her in the quiet concentration he had come to admire. Her focus was unshakable, her movements precise and deliberate, even in something as simple as jotting down a thought.

He cleared his throat softly, stepping forward. “Yaoyorozu.”

She looked up, her onyx eyes meeting his with a faint hint of surprise. A small smile touched her lips as she straightened in her seat. “Todoroki,” she said warmly. “What brings you here?”

He held up the notebook, its navy blue cover catching the light. “You left this during our last study session. I thought you might need it.”

Her expression softened, a hint of pink dusting her cheeks as she reached out to take the notebook. “Oh, thank you! I didn’t even realize I’d forgotten it.”

He nodded, his gaze lingering briefly on the way her fingers brushed the cover before he looked away. “It’s not a problem.”

Momo set the notebook down on the table, her smile widening. “You’re very thoughtful, Todoroki. I appreciate it.”

He shifted slightly, unsure how to respond to the compliment. Instead, he glanced at her textbook, the neatly annotated pages a testament to her thoroughness.

“You’re studying already?” he asked, his tone even but tinged with curiosity.

She nodded, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Midterms are coming up soon, and I like to stay ahead. It helps me feel prepared.”

Shouto hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “You’re first in the class rankings, right?”

Momo blinked, tilting her head slightly. “Yes, but I’m sure you already knew that.”

He nodded again, his expression thoughtful. “I’m fifth.”

Her smile softened, a touch of amusement flickering in her eyes. “And you’d like to change that, I assume?”

“It wouldn’t hurt,” he admitted, his tone as neutral as ever.

Momo chuckled softly, her fingers tapping lightly against the edge of her textbook. “You’re already doing very well, Todoroki. Fifth place is impressive, especially considering how demanding our training schedules are.”

He met her gaze, his expression steady. “You manage to balance it.”

“I suppose I do,” she said, her smile widening. “But it takes effort. And help, sometimes.”

He considered her words for a moment, his mind turning over the idea he’d been hesitant to voice. Finally, he spoke. “Would you be up for a study session? Sometime before midterms.”

Her eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across her face before giving way to a warm smile. “Of course. I’d be happy to help. When were you thinking?”

Shouto shifted his weight slightly, his gaze flicking to the table before meeting hers again. “Whenever you’re free. You can decide.”

Momo nodded, her smile brightening. “Alright. How about tomorrow evening? After training?”

He nodded in agreement, a faint sense of relief settling in his chest. “That works.”

“Great,” she said, closing her textbook and turning her attention fully to him. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Shouto wasn’t sure how to respond to that. So he simply nodded again, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

As he turned to leave, he couldn’t help but feel that the conversation had gone better than expected. And for reasons he couldn’t quite name, the thought of spending more time with her felt... good.

Chapter Text

The common room buzzed with mid-afternoon energy, the faint hum of conversation blending with the occasional clink of mugs against tables. Mina Ashido, perched on the armrest of the couch, leaned forward with a mischievous grin as she waved her phone in the air.

“I knew it!” she exclaimed, her golden eyes practically glowing.

Kirishima, seated cross-legged on the floor, raised an eyebrow. “What’d you find this time?”

“Tooru told me,” Mina said, pointing at him for emphasis. “She said Todoroki asked Momo for a study session.”

Kirishima blinked, his sharp grin spreading across his face. “No way. Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Mina said, her tone exaggerated, as if she were reporting breaking news. “And Tooru made it sound like a study date.”

Kirishima let out a low whistle, leaning back on his hands. “Man, that’s wild. Todoroki and Yaoyorozu, huh? That’s... kind of perfect.”

“I know, right?” Mina said, spinning around so she could lean closer to him. “Which is why I was thinking we should help them out. You know, make it a little more... special.”

Kirishima raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “Mina, you’re not gonna mess with them, are you?”

Mina gasped, feigning offense. “Mess with them? I’d never! I’m just going to suggest a location. You know, something cute and low-key. Like that ice cream shop near campus.”

“Oh, the one you and I went to?” Kirishima said, his grin widening. “Yeah, that place is awesome. But, uh, do you think they’re the ice cream type?”

Mina’s grin sharpened into something conspiratorial. “That’s the beauty of it. Todoroki’s so chill - literally - and Momo’s all about trying new experiences. It’s perfect!”

Shouto was seated in his usual spot near the common room window, flipping through a training manual with quiet focus. The buzz of voices from Mina and Kirishima filtered through the background noise, but he paid it little attention—at least, until Mina appeared in front of him, her hands on her hips and a dangerous glint in her eye.

“Todoroki!” she said, her tone far too enthusiastic for his liking.

He blinked up at her, his expression neutral. “Ashido.”

“I heard about your study date with Momo,” she said, drawing out the last word with a singsong tone.

“It’s a study session,” Shouto corrected, though the faintest hint of uncertainty crept into his voice. “It’s... for midterms.”

Mina’s grin widened. “Exactly! Which is why you should take her to the ice cream shop near campus.”

Shouto tilted his head, his confusion evident. “Why would I do that? We’re studying.”

“Because,” Mina said, dragging out the word, “it’s a great place to... de-stress after studying. And it’s super cute. Trust me, she’ll love it.”

Shouto considered her words for a moment, his gaze flickering to the table. “Ice cream,” he repeated quietly, the word feeling strange on his tongue.

He knew what it was, of course. Fuyumi had introduced him to it years ago, dragging him to a shop during one of their rare sibling outings. He still remembered the taste of the pale green scoop she’d insisted he try - mint chocolate chip. It was unexpectedly refreshing, the coolness of the mint balanced by the slight bitterness of the chocolate.

Shouto blinked, his focus returning to Mina. “What if Yaoyorozu doesn’t like ice cream?”

“Everybody likes ice cream,” Mina said confidently, waving a hand. “And if she hasn’t had it before, even better! You can introduce her to it. It’ll be, like, educational or whatever.”

Shouto frowned slightly, though not out of disagreement. The idea of introducing Momo to something new - a rare experience they didn’t already share - was oddly appealing.

“Fine,” he said after a moment, his tone even. “I’ll suggest it.”

Mina’s grin widened to dangerous levels. “That’s the spirit! And trust me, Todoroki, it’ll be great. Oh, and get mint chocolate chip. It seems like your thing.”

“It is,” he said simply, standing to leave.

Mina blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “ Wait, you know? Oh my God, do you have a favorite flavor?”

“Mint chocolate chip,” Shouto replied without hesitation, his voice flat but resolute.

Mina stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter. “That’s... so fitting. I love it.”

Shouto didn’t respond, already heading for the stairs. But as he walked, the thought of sharing something as simple as ice cream with Momo lingered in his mind, quiet but persistent, like the faint echo of a memory waiting to be made.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The clock ticked softly in the corner of Momo’s room, the sound blending with the faint rustle of papers as she flipped through her notes one last time. She hadn’t meant to lose track of time—truly, she hadn’t. But her tendency to overprepare had gotten the better of her again, and now she was running late.

She glanced at her watch, a flicker of panic rising as she realized she was supposed to meet Todoroki five minutes ago. Quickly gathering her things, she slung her utility belt over her shoulder and adjusted her cape before rushing out the door.

By the time she arrived at the meeting spot in front of the dorms, Todoroki was already there, his posture relaxed as he waited with the same composed expression he always wore. He looked up as she approached, his mismatched eyes flicking briefly to the textbook in her arms before meeting hers.

“Yaoyorozu,” he said simply, his tone even.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she said quickly, her cheeks flushing faintly. “I got carried away preparing for our study session.”

He nodded, his expression unreadable but not unkind. “It’s fine.”

Her shoulders relaxed slightly at his response, though she still felt a twinge of guilt for making him wait. “Shall we head to the study room?”

Todoroki hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Actually, I was thinking... we could go somewhere else first.”

Momo blinked, tilting her head slightly in confusion. “Somewhere else?”

He nodded again, his gaze steady. “There’s an ice cream shop near campus. Ashido recommended it. We could go there.”

Momo’s head tilted further, her onyx eyes wide with curiosity. “Ice cream?” she echoed, the word unfamiliar on her tongue.

Todoroki blinked, his brow furrowing faintly. “You don’t know what ice cream is?”

She shook her head, the gesture causing the loose strand of her hair that fell across her cheek to sway. “No. What is it?”

Her expression - a slight tilt of her head, her lips parted just slightly in innocent confusion - was unexpectedly endearing, though she didn’t realize it. Todoroki felt something tighten in his chest, his breath catching for just a moment before he looked away.

“It’s... a dessert,” he explained, his tone quieter now. “Cold, sweet, usually made from cream. Fuyumi introduced me to it once.”

Momo nodded thoughtfully, the confusion in her eyes giving way to curiosity. “I see. That sounds interesting. Alright, let’s go.”

Her smile was warm and genuine, and Todoroki couldn’t help but feel a faint sense of relief - though he wasn’t sure why.

The shop was small and inviting, its pastel-colored walls adorned with whimsical drawings of cones and sprinkles. The faint scent of sugar and cream lingered in the air, and the soft hum of conversation added to the cozy atmosphere.

Momo stepped inside, her gaze sweeping over the menu above the counter. Rows of vibrant flavors were listed in neat handwriting, accompanied by small illustrations that made each option look even more enticing.

As her eyes landed on the word strawberry, her face lit up with pure, unfiltered excitement. “They have strawberry!” she exclaimed, her voice brighter than usual.

Todoroki blinked, momentarily startled by her enthusiasm. He watched as she moved closer to the counter, her attention fully absorbed by the list of flavors.

“It’s my favorite,” she explained, her tone slightly more composed now as she glanced back at him. “Anything strawberry - I’ve always loved it.”

Her excitement, though brief, felt strangely infectious. Todoroki found himself watching her more closely, noticing the way her expression softened as she studied the menu.

“I’ll get mint chocolate chip,” he said finally, his tone steady but quieter than usual.

Momo nodded, her smile widening. “And I’ll get strawberry.”

They placed their orders and found a small table near the window, the sunlight streaming through the glass and casting warm patterns across the floor. Their ice cream was served shortly afterward—Shouto’s mint chocolate chip in a simple cone, while Momo’s strawberry sat prettily in a bowl, topped with a delicate swirl.

Momo stared down at her dessert, her expression shifting into quiet wonder. The vibrant pink scoop glistened in the sunlight, the faint aroma of strawberries filling the air. She glanced at the spoon resting beside the bowl, then back at Shouto, who was already taking an absent bite of his cone.

After a moment of hesitation, Momo picked up the spoon, holding it delicately in her hand as if it were some unfamiliar tool. She tilted her head slightly, her onyx eyes narrowing in faint concentration as she studied the bowl.

Shouto paused mid-bite, his gaze drifting toward her. “Is something wrong?”

Momo looked up, her cheeks faintly pink as she lowered the spoon. “I’m not entirely sure how to go about eating this,” she admitted quietly, her voice tinged with embarrassment.

He blinked, his brow furrowing faintly. “You’ve never had ice cream before?”

She shook her head, her hair swaying slightly with the motion. “My mother never allowed sweets in the house,” she explained, her tone carefully composed despite the faint blush on her cheeks. “I’ve seen others eating them, of course, but...”

Her voice trailed off, and she tilted her head again, her lips curving into the faintest pout as she stared at the dessert. The expression - innocent and unguarded - was so unexpectedly adorable that Shouto felt something squeeze in his chest, his breath catching for just a moment (again).

“It’s simple,” he said finally, his tone steady but quieter than usual. “Just use the spoon to scoop it up. Like this.”

He gestured toward her bowl, his movements deliberate but hesitant, as if he were suddenly aware of her every reaction.

Momo followed his example, scooping a small portion of the strawberry ice cream onto the spoon. She paused, her gaze flicking briefly to Shouto as if seeking silent confirmation, before taking a careful bite.

Her eyes widened instantly, a soft gasp escaping her lips as the cold sweetness melted on her tongue. “Oh,” she said, her voice bright with surprise. “It’s... lovely.”

Shouto watched as her expression softened, the faintest hint of excitement breaking through her usual composure. “You like it?”

Momo nodded, her smile widening as she took another bite, her movements more confident now. “It’s wonderful. Sweet and refreshing... and very cold.”

For a brief moment, her enthusiasm bubbled over, her words spilling out faster than she could catch them. But just as quickly, she collected herself, her posture straightening and her expression smoothing into quiet elegance.

“It’s quite enjoyable,” she said more formally, though the sparkle in her eyes remained.

Shouto’s lips twitched upward in the faintest hint of a smile. “I’m glad.”

As they continued to eat, the conversation flowed easily, their usual rhythm of study notes and strategies replaced by lighthearted banter and shared discovery. And though Shouto didn’t fully understand the strange pull he felt toward her, he couldn’t help but think that moments like this—moments where her guard fell and her quiet joy shone through - were worth lingering in.

The study session was well underway, the quiet hum of the library wrapping them in an almost serene stillness. Momo sat across from Todoroki at one of the smaller tables tucked into a corner of the expansive room, her notes and textbooks spread out in front of her in neat, organized sections.

Todoroki, on the other hand, had a simpler setup: one notebook, one textbook, and a pen he was currently spinning absentmindedly between his fingers. His mismatched eyes were focused on her as she explained a particularly tricky mathematical concept, her voice steady but tinged with enthusiasm.

“And that’s why,” she said, gesturing toward an equation she’d written on a spare sheet of paper, “you need to consider the variable’s relationship to the larger function. If you overlook it, the whole calculation falls apart.”

Todoroki nodded slowly, his gaze flicking from the paper to her face. “That makes sense,” he said, his tone even but thoughtful. “You’re very good at explaining things.”

Momo smiled faintly, a touch of warmth blooming in her chest at the compliment. “Thank you, Todoroki. I’m glad I could help.”

He nodded again, his focus shifting back to the equation as he worked through the steps she’d outlined. For a moment, the only sounds were the faint scratch of his pen against paper and the occasional rustle of pages as she reviewed her own notes.

But then, as she glanced up to check his progress, her mind betrayed her.

The memory came without warning - crystal clear and vividly detailed, as if her brain had stored it away for this exact moment. She saw herself on the training grounds, her bō staff spinning in a blur of motion as she closed the distance between them. She felt the tension in her muscles, the rush of adrenaline as the sparring match reached its climax.

And then, with startling clarity, she remembered the moment they’d both lost their balance. The tumble to the ground. The way she’d landed on top of him, her hands braced on either side of his head as his wide-eyed gaze met hers. The memory sent a sudden flush of heat to her cheeks, her composure faltering for just a second.

“Todoroki,” she said abruptly, her voice a touch louder than she intended.

He looked up, his pen pausing mid-stroke as his mismatched eyes locked onto hers. “Yes?”

Momo hesitated, her mind scrambling for something - anything - to cover her uncharacteristic outburst. She glanced back at the equation on the paper, forcing her thoughts back to the present. “You, um... you’re missing a step,” she said, her tone carefully even as she gestured toward his work.

He frowned slightly, his gaze shifting back to the page. “Oh. Right.”

As he corrected the equation, Momo took a steadying breath, willing the memory to fade back into the recesses of her mind. It was just a sparring match, she told herself firmly. Nothing out of the ordinary.

And yet, the image of Todoroki’s startled expression lingered, stubborn and unshakable.

“Todoroki,” she said again, her voice quieter now, “about the sparring match... have you had a chance to analyze your movements?”

He paused, his pen stilling as he considered her question. “A little,” he said finally. “I’ve been thinking about why I hesitated.”

Momo nodded, her curiosity outweighing her lingering embarrassment. “And? Did you figure it out?”

He tilted his head slightly, his expression thoughtful. “Not yet,” he admitted. “It’s... difficult to explain.”

She smiled faintly, her own thoughts softening. “Well, if you ever want to review it together, I’d be happy to help. Sparring is just as much about learning from each other as it is about improving individually.”

“Thank you,” he said, his tone quiet but sincere.

Momo nodded, her attention returning to her notes as she tried - unsuccessfully - to banish the memory from her mind. She told herself it was nothing, just a fleeting moment that didn’t mean anything. But as she glanced up to see Todoroki’s focused expression, the faint furrow of his brow as he worked through the equation, she couldn’t help but wonder why that particular memory had chosen now to resurface.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The early morning air was crisp and heavy with the scent of dew as Shouto stepped onto the sparring grounds, his breath clouding faintly in front of him. The sky above was painted in soft hues of lavender and orange, the first rays of sunlight just beginning to crest over the horizon.

It wasn’t unusual for him to start his training early. The quiet hours before the rest of the world stirred always seemed to lend themselves to focus, to clarity. But today was different. Today, he wasn’t alone.

“Tch, you’re late, Icy-Hot,” Bakugou barked, his arms crossed as he stood at the edge of the field. His right arm was sheathed in a specialized brace that gleamed faintly in the light, his Hero Costume modified to accommodate its presence. He radiated restless energy, his crimson eyes narrowing as he shifted his stance.

“I’m on time,” Shouto replied evenly, his tone betraying no irritation as he adjusted the bracers on his wrists. “You’re just early.”

“Whatever,” Bakugou muttered, turning his attention to the other figure across the field.

Midoriya was stretching, his movements deliberate but tense. Even from a distance, Shouto could see the faint green sparks of energy flickering around his arms, the telltale sign of One for All coursing through his veins. He knew Midoriya had been struggling lately - struggling to adjust to the absence of the Quirks he’d transferred to Shigaraki during the Final War.

Midoriya stood, his expression determined but thoughtful as he walked toward them. “Morning,” he said, his voice carrying a faint edge of nervous energy. “Are we ready to start?”

“Damn right we are,” Bakugou snapped, his palms crackling with explosions as he flexed his fingers. “Let’s see if you’ve managed to stop tripping over yourself, Deku.”

Midoriya smiled sheepishly but didn’t respond, his focus shifting to Shouto instead. “How’s your Phosphor training going?”

Shouto exhaled quietly, his gaze steady. “Better. But it still takes focus to keep the balance.”

He glanced at his left hand, where a faint flicker of flames sparked to life before extinguishing. Phosphor - the controlled fusion of his fire and ice - was powerful, but it demanded a level of precision and energy that still eluded him in moments of distraction.

“Well, you better get it together,” Bakugou said, stepping closer. “Because if you think I’m holding back on you just because it’s morning, you’re dumber than Izuku.”

“Hey!” Midoriya protested, though his tone was more exasperated than offended.

Shouto nodded, his expression calm but determined. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

The three of them moved to their positions, forming a rough triangle on the field. The silence stretched for a moment, heavy with anticipation, before Bakugou broke it with a sharp yell.

“Let’s get this over with!” he shouted, launching himself toward Midoriya with a blast of explosive energy.

The sparring match began in a blur of movement.

Shouto pivoted smoothly, releasing a controlled burst of ice toward Bakugou’s path. The ice spread across the ground in a slick sheet, forcing Bakugou to redirect his momentum with a sharp explosion that sent him hurtling upward instead.

Midoriya used the distraction to his advantage, Blackwhip snapping to life as he vaulted over the ice, his movements quick and deliberate. Shouto tracked him carefully, releasing a wave of flames to intercept, but Midoriya countered with Smokescreen, the dense cloud obscuring his path as he landed a few feet away.

Shouto narrowed his eyes, his mind calculating as he adjusted his stance. Bakugou’s explosions and Midoriya’s agility made it difficult to maintain control of the field, their relentless attacks forcing him to stay on the defensive. But he wasn’t here to play it safe.

With a steady breath, Shouto activated Phosphor, the fusion of fire and ice coursing through his veins in a perfect balance of heat and cold. The air around him shimmered faintly as he launched a spiraling wave of energy toward Midoriya, the combined force cutting through the Smokescreen and forcing Midoriya to dodge.

“Not bad,” Bakugou snarled, diving toward him with a blast of energy that singed the air. “But not good enough!”

Shouto reacted instinctively, raising a barrier of ice to block the attack before countering with a burst of flames. The heat forced Bakugou to retreat, his scowl deepening as he circled back.

Midoriya reappeared from the other side, his movements quick but measured. Shouto could see the faint flicker of hesitation in his steps - a remnant of his struggle to adjust to his limited Quirks.

“You’re holding back,” Shouto said, his voice calm but firm as he intercepted Midoriya’s next move with a swipe of his flames.

Midoriya froze for a moment, his expression conflicted before he nodded, determination hardening his gaze. “You’re right. I’ll stop.”

The battle intensified, each of them pushing harder, their movements faster and more precise. And though Shouto felt the familiar strain of balancing Phosphor, he welcomed the challenge, the push to improve, to grow stronger.

Because for him - and for all of them - this wasn’t just training. It was a reminder of what they were fighting for, and of the strength they needed to protect what mattered most.

The air was thick with tension, the field alive with motion as the sparring match reached its peak. Shouto stood his ground at the edge of the field, his chest rising and falling steadily as the familiar heat of Phosphor surged through him. The X of flames—hot orange on the left, pale blue on the right - stretched outward from his chest, crossing over his shoulders and cutting diagonally across his waist.

It was large, almost unwieldy, the balance between his fire and ice teetering on the edge of control. But that was the point of this exercise - to push himself, to refine the energy, to make it smaller and more manageable.

“Hey, Half-n-Half!” Bakugou’s voice cut through the haze of concentration, sharp and biting. “Stop standing around like an idiot!”

Shouto barely had time to react as Bakugou launched himself forward, a deafening explosion propelling him through the air. Shouto raised his left hand, sending a controlled burst of orange flames to intercept, but Bakugou twisted mid-air, his trajectory shifting as he aimed straight for Shouto’s unguarded side.

Shouto pivoted quickly, a sheet of ice spreading across the ground beneath Bakugou’s feet. The explosive blond cursed loudly as his landing slipped, forcing him to detonate another blast just to steady himself.

“Is that all you’ve got?!” Bakugou snarled, his crimson eyes blazing with fury. His brace-clad right arm crackled faintly as he raised it, a smaller, more concentrated explosion flickering in his palm.

Before Shouto could counter, a flash of green caught his eye. Midoriya darted forward from the other side, Blackwhip snapping out like tendrils of light as he closed the gap. Shouto shifted his focus, raising his right hand to send a burst of pale blue flames toward the oncoming attack.

The cold flames met Blackwhip mid-air, the temperature dropping sharply as the two forces clashed. Midoriya faltered for a split second, his movements still adjusting to the absence of his former Quirks. Shouto seized the opportunity, releasing another wave of pale blue flames that forced Midoriya to leap back, his expression tightening with focus.

“Nice one, Todoroki!” Midoriya called out, his voice tinged with both admiration and frustration.

Shouto didn’t respond, his attention snapping back to Bakugou, who had used the brief distraction to close the distance once again. This time, Bakugou’s attack came faster, his explosions smaller but more precise as he targeted the gaps in Shouto’s defense.

“You’re getting sloppy!” Bakugou barked, his movements relentless.

Shouto gritted his teeth, the X of flames across his chest flickering as he struggled to maintain the delicate balance. He countered Bakugou’s next attack with a spiraling wave of fire and ice, the two elements twisting together in a sharp arc that forced the explosive hero to retreat.

Midoriya rejoined the fray almost immediately, his movements quicker now, more confident. Blackwhip coiled and snapped around him like living energy, while Smokescreen obscured his path, making it harder for Shouto to predict his next move.

The three of them moved in a chaotic rhythm, their attacks and counters weaving together in a blur of light, heat, and sound. Shouto’s Phosphor burned brighter with each passing moment, the X of flames stretching outward as he poured more energy into holding the balance.

But he could feel the strain - could feel the way his focus wavered every time Bakugou’s explosions came too close or Midoriya’s Blackwhip wrapped too tightly around his defense.

“Damn it, Todoroki!” Bakugou shouted, his voice cutting through the roar of flames. “Stop holding back and hit me already!”

Shouto’s mismatched eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. “I’m not holding back,” he said quietly, though the flicker of doubt in his voice betrayed him.

“Then prove it!” Bakugou snarled, launching himself forward with a deafening blast.

Shouto exhaled sharply, his resolve hardening as he raised both hands. The X of flames surged outward, the heat and cold combining into a powerful burst of energy that shot toward Bakugou in a spiraling arc. The explosion that followed sent shockwaves rippling across the field, scattering the dense Smokescreen and forcing Midoriya to shield his face with his arm.

As the dust settled, Shouto stood at the center of the field, his chest heaving as the X of flames flickered faintly, smaller now, more contained. Bakugou landed a few feet away, his grin sharp and wild despite the smudges of soot across his face.

“About time,” Bakugou muttered, his voice low but begrudgingly impressed.

Midoriya stepped forward, his gaze steady despite the tension in his posture. “You’re getting better, Todoroki,” he said, his tone sincere. “Your control is improving.”

Shouto nodded, his focus still on the faint flicker of flames across his chest. The X was smaller now - a sign of progress, however slight.

But as he glanced at his two classmates, both breathing heavily but still standing, he knew the sparring match was far from over.

“Again,” Shouto said simply, his tone quiet but resolute.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The locker room was filled with the faint hum of the showers and the occasional clatter of metal as gear was set aside. Shouto sat on the bench near his locker, a towel draped over his shoulders as he methodically unfastened the bracers on his wrists. His muscles ached pleasantly from the sparring session, the strain of maintaining Phosphor still lingering in his chest.

Midoriya was seated a few feet away, his green curls damp with sweat as he unlaced his boots. His expression was thoughtful, his gaze distant, as if he were replaying the match in his mind.

Bakugou, on the other hand, was anything but quiet. He slammed his locker shut with a loud clang, his scowl as sharp as ever as he muttered under his breath. “You two fight like a couple of damn amateurs,” he snapped, though there was no real venom in his tone.

Midoriya flinched slightly, his hands pausing mid-motion. “We’re trying our best, Kacchan,” he said, his voice tinged with exasperation.

“Your best isn’t good enough,” Bakugou shot back, crossing his arms. “You’re still tripping over your own damn feet, Deku. And you-” He jabbed a finger in Shouto’s direction. “Stop hesitating like a damn idiot. You’re supposed to be a recommendation prodigy or whatever, right?”

Shouto raised an eyebrow, his expression calm. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Bakugou snorted, turning away as he grabbed his towel and stomped toward the showers. “You better.”

The room fell quiet for a moment after Bakugou disappeared, the tension easing slightly. Midoriya let out a small sigh, running a hand through his hair as he glanced at Shouto.

“You did really well today, Todoroki,” he said, his tone sincere. “Your Phosphor is getting a lot more stable.”

“Thanks,” Shouto replied, his voice even. “You’re improving too. Blackwhip is more controlled than the last time we sparred.”

Midoriya smiled sheepishly, his cheeks flushing faintly. “I’m still getting used to it. It’s... strange, not having all the Quirks anymore. I keep forgetting they’re gone.”

Shouto nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “It’s an adjustment. But you’re adapting.”

Midoriya’s smile widened slightly, though his expression remained pensive. Shouto watched him for a moment before speaking again, his tone casual but curious. “How’s Uraraka?”

Midoriya froze, his eyes widening as his face turned a deep shade of red. “W-What?!” he stammered, his voice cracking slightly.

Shouto tilted his head, his expression neutral. “Uraraka. How’s your relationship with her?”

Midoriya’s hands flailed wildly, his words tumbling out in a frantic rush. “W-We’re just friends! Really good friends! Nothing more! I mean, she’s amazing, but-”

Shouto blinked, his brow furrowing slightly. “I didn’t say it was anything more.”

Midoriya groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Why does everyone keep asking me about this?”

Shouto didn’t respond, his thoughts drifting as Midoriya’s flustered rambling faded into the background. For some reason, his mind wandered to Momo - her calm composure, her quiet determination, the way her expression softened when she smiled.

He frowned slightly, the memory of their sparring match surfacing unbidden. The way she’d challenged him, pushed him, forced him to confront his own hesitation. And then, the moment they’d both fallen, her hands braced on either side of his head as her gaze met his.

“Todoroki?” Midoriya’s voice broke through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present.

Shouto blinked, his expression smoothing into neutrality. “What?”

Midoriya tilted his head, his green eyes curious. “You spaced out for a second. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Shouto said simply, though his thoughts remained tangled.

Midoriya nodded, though his gaze lingered for a moment before he stood and headed for the showers.

As the sound of running water filled the room, Bakugou reappeared, his hair damp and his towel slung over his shoulder, and one wrapped tightly around his waist. He glanced at Shouto, his scowl softening into something closer to a smirk.

“You’re thinking about Ponytail, aren’t you?” Bakugou said, his tone sharp but oddly perceptive.

Shouto frowned, his gaze narrowing slightly. “What makes you say that?”

Bakugou snorted, putting on his uniform. “You’ve got that dumb look on your face. Same one Deku gets when someone mentions Pink Cheeks.”

Shouto’s frown deepened, though he didn’t deny it.

“Listen,” Bakugou said, his voice lowering slightly. “If you want to get closer to her, stop overthinking it. Just... talk to her. Spend time with her. You’re already halfway there, so don’t screw it up by being a weirdo.”

Shouto stared at him, his expression unreadable. “That’s... surprisingly good advice.”

“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” Bakugou muttered, pushing off the lockers and heading for the door. “Now hurry up and shower. You smell like burnt ice.”

As the door slammed shut behind him, Shouto sat in silence, Bakugou’s words echoing faintly in his mind.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The lunch rush was winding down, the cafeteria quieter now as students trickled out toward their next classes. Shouto sat at his usual spot near the window, his tray mostly untouched as he flipped through his notes for the upcoming lesson. The faint hum of conversation filled the room, blending with the clatter of trays and the distant sound of footsteps.

He wasn’t paying much attention to his surroundings - at least, not until he heard her voice.

Momo was standing near the far end of the cafeteria, her posture perfectly straight and composed as always. A student from the General Education course stood in front of her, his smug grin unmistakable even from a distance.

Shouto frowned, his gaze narrowing slightly as he watched the interaction unfold. The boy was leaning toward her, his tone overly familiar as he spoke. Momo, ever polite, offered a faint smile, her voice calm but firm as she responded.

Shouto couldn’t hear their conversation, but he could see the subtle tension in her posture, the way her hands tightened slightly at her sides. The boy, however, seemed oblivious - or perhaps indifferent - to her discomfort. He leaned closer, his grin widening as he gestured toward her with exaggerated enthusiasm.

Shouto’s grip on his pen tightened.

As he watched, the boy’s persistence only grew, his smug confidence practically radiating from him. Momo, despite her clear discomfort, continued to respond politely, her voice steady but distant.

'Damnit, Momo,' Shouto thought, his frustration mounting. She was too polite for her own good, always prioritizing decorum over her own feelings. He could see it now - the way she kept smiling, kept declining gently, even as the boy refused to take the hint.

Before he realized it, Shouto was already standing, his tray forgotten as he crossed the cafeteria in a few long strides.

“Momo,” he said, his voice cutting through the boy’s relentless chatter as he stepped into the space between them.

Momo blinked, her onyx eyes widening slightly as she turned toward him. “Todoroki,” she said, her voice tinged with surprise.

The General Education student frowned, his smug grin faltering slightly as he glanced at Shouto. “Uh, can I help you?”

Shouto’s mismatched eyes locked onto the boy, his expression cold and unreadable. “You can leave,” he said simply.

The boy blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Wait, what?”

“You heard me,” Shouto said, his tone quieter now but edged with steel.

Momo placed a hand on his arm, her touch light but grounding. “Todoroki,” she said gently, “it’s alright. He was just-”

“He wasn’t just anything,” Shouto interrupted, his gaze never leaving the boy. “You told him no. He didn’t listen.”

The temperature in the air dropped slightly, the faintest hint of frost curling around Shouto’s fingertips.

The boy took a step back, his grin vanishing entirely. “Alright, alright, I’m leaving,” he muttered, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Jeez, chill out.”

Shouto’s eyes narrowed, his flames flickering faintly at his left side as the frost on his right hand glimmered. “Don’t come near her again.”

The boy turned on his heel and hurried out of the cafeteria, his pace quicker than necessary.

Momo sighed softly, her hand still resting on Shouto’s arm. “Todoroki,” she said again, her voice steady but gentle.

He turned toward her, his gaze softening slightly. “He was being pushy,” he said simply, his tone quieter now.

“I know,” she replied, her lips curving into a faint smile. “Thank you for stepping in.”

Shouto nodded, his frustration easing slightly as the frost around his hand melted. He didn’t know why he’d felt so angry - why the sight of the boy leaning toward her had sparked something so fierce within him.

But as he watched her, her expression calm and composed despite the situation, he couldn’t help but feel that it didn’t matter.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The morning air was crisp and cool as Shouto made his way across the U.A. campus, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. The sun was just beginning to rise, its golden light spilling across the rooftops and casting long shadows over the cobblestone pathways. He walked at an unhurried pace, his thoughts drifting aimlessly until they settled - predictably - on her.

It wasn’t deliberate, he told himself. She was his seatmate, his sparring partner, someone he worked with regularly. Thinking about her was inevitable, even practical.

Except it wasn’t practical, not really. Not when his thoughts weren’t about strategy or training, but about the way her eyes lit up when she figured out a difficult problem, or the way her voice softened when she reassured him during their study sessions.

He frowned slightly, his gaze flicking to the horizon as he tried to redirect his thoughts.

But the memories came anyway - the moments that had lingered longer than they should have. The way she’d tilted her head when he explained ice cream to her, her expression open and curious. The way her laugh had sounded, light and genuine, when he’d made an unexpected comment during their last study session. The way her determination had pushed him to his limits during their sparring match, her strength and composure a quiet reminder of her brilliance.

He shook his head slightly, forcing the thoughts away. It didn’t mean anything, he told himself again. She was just someone he respected. Someone he admired.

The faint scent of vanilla and roses drifted through the air, pulling his attention toward the library as its doors swung open.

And there she was.

Momo stepped out into the sunlight, her hair catching the light as she adjusted the strap of her bag. She was always early, always prepared, her movements precise and deliberate as she closed the door behind her and started down the path.

Shouto’s pace slowed instinctively, his gaze following her as she walked. Her posture was as composed as ever, her expression calm but thoughtful as her fingers brushed against the edge of her bag.

He wasn’t sure when he decided to catch up to her. It just happened - his steps quickening slightly, his focus narrowing as he closed the distance between them.

“Yaoyorozu,” he said, his voice breaking through the quiet as he reached her side.

She looked up, her onyx eyes meeting his with a faint flicker of surprise. “Todoroki,” she said warmly. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” he replied, his tone even but quieter than usual.

They fell into step together, their pace matching naturally as they walked toward the main building.

“Were you in the library?” he asked, his gaze flicking briefly to her bag.

“Yes,” she said with a small smile. “I wanted to review some notes before class.”

Shouto nodded, his attention lingering on the faint curve of her smile before he looked away.

“What about you?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

“I was walking,” he said simply, though the truth - that he’d been walking aimlessly until he saw her - stuck unspoken in his mind.

She nodded, her expression thoughtful but unassuming as they continued along the path.

For a moment, the silence between them felt heavier, though Shouto couldn’t pinpoint why. He glanced at her again, his gaze drawn to the way her hair swayed lightly with each step, the way the sunlight framed her profile.

He realized he had slowed his pace, as if to prolong the walk.

It wasn’t intentional, he told himself. It was just... pleasant. Comfortable.

Momo turned toward him slightly, her smile widening as her eyes met his. “Todoroki,” she said, her voice soft but steady, “thank you for intervening yesterday.”

He blinked, caught off guard by the change in topic. “You didn’t need me to,” he said quietly.

“No,” she agreed, her tone light but sincere. “But it was... kind of you.”

His chest tightened slightly, the faint trace of warmth settling there without permission. He nodded, his gaze steady but unfocused.

The walk ended far too quickly, the looming presence of the main building cutting through the quiet rhythm of their steps.

“See you in class,” Momo said as they reached the door, her voice tinged with gentle warmth.

“See you,” Shouto replied, his tone quieter now.

As she disappeared into the building, Shouto stood in place for a moment longer, his thoughts swirling.

It didn’t mean anything, he told himself again.

And yet, the faint scent of vanilla and roses lingered, stubborn and unshakable, like an echo waiting to be understood.

Chapter Text

The afternoon sunlight filtered through the windows of Class 2-A, casting soft, slanted patterns across the desks. The quiet rustle of papers and the faint hum of conversation filled the room as students settled into their seats, their focus shifting toward the lesson ahead.

Shouto sat at his usual spot near the back, his notebook open in front of him. He should have been reviewing his notes, his pen poised to underline key points, but his attention kept slipping.

Momo was seated beside him, her posture straight and poised as she flipped through her textbook. Her hair was swept neatly over one shoulder, the faint sheen of sunlight catching the loose strands and casting a soft glow around her. She was humming faintly - so quietly that Shouto wasn’t sure if she even realized she was doing it - and the sound tugged at something deep in his chest.

He frowned slightly, his pen hovering just above the page. He didn’t understand why he noticed these things - the small, insignificant details that seemed to demand his attention. Like the precise way she organized her notes, or the way her brow furrowed when she encountered something particularly challenging.

“Todoroki,” Momo’s voice broke through his thoughts, soft and curious.

He looked up, his mismatched eyes meeting hers. “Yes?”

“Are you alright?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. “You’ve been staring at your notebook for a while now.”

He blinked, glancing down at the blank page in front of him before returning his gaze to her. “I’m fine,” he said simply.

She studied him for a moment, her onyx eyes thoughtful but unassuming. Then, with a faint smile, she turned back to her textbook.

Shouto exhaled quietly, his chest tightening as he watched her out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t understand it - not the way his thoughts kept drifting to her, or the way her presence seemed to settle something restless within him.

It wasn’t distraction, exactly. More like... awareness.

The day passed in a blur of lessons and training, and by the time the sun dipped below the horizon, Shouto found himself wandering the quiet halls of U.A., his thoughts unusually restless.

His footsteps carried him to the library, its familiar stillness a welcome reprieve from the noise of the day. He pushed open the heavy door, the faint scent of old paper and polished wood washing over him as he stepped inside.

He hadn’t expected to see her there.

Momo was seated at one of the long tables near the far end of the library, her bag neatly placed on the chair beside her and a small stack of books in front of her. She was writing something, her pen moving steadily across the page as her expression shifted between focus and curiosity.

Shouto hesitated for a moment before walking toward her, his steps quiet against the polished floor.

“Yaoyorozu,” he said softly, his voice carrying through the quiet space.

She looked up, her eyes brightening as she smiled. “Todoroki,” she said warmly. “What brings you here?”

“I was walking,” he said simply, the excuse coming almost automatically.

Her smile widened slightly, and she gestured to the seat across from her. “Would you like to join me?”

He nodded, sliding into the chair as his gaze flickered briefly to the books in front of her.

“What are you working on?” he asked, his tone curious but even.

“A research project for our Hero Ethics course,” she explained, her voice tinged with quiet enthusiasm. “I wanted to explore some of the historical precedents for certain decisions heroes have made during large-scale conflicts.”

He listened as she spoke, her words careful and deliberate but tinged with the passion that always seemed to light her eyes when she talked about something she cared about.

And as she explained her findings, her hands gesturing lightly to emphasize certain points, Shouto found himself caught in a quiet reverie.

It wasn’t just her intelligence, though he admired that deeply. It was the way she carried herself, the way her voice softened when she spoke to him, the way her presence seemed to fill the space around her with something... calming.

He didn’t realize he was smiling until she paused, her head tilting slightly as she looked at him.

“Is something funny?” she asked, her tone curious but kind.

Shouto blinked, the faint smile slipping from his face as he shook his head. “No. I was just... listening.”

Her own smile returned, softer this time, as she continued.

And as the evening wore on, Shouto couldn’t help but think that moments like this - moments where it was just the two of them, talking and learning and existing in each other’s quiet company - were becoming his favorite part of the day.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The kitchen was bathed in the warm, golden light of sunrise, the soft glow spilling across the countertops and cabinets. Shouto stood in the center of it all, sleeves rolled up and hair slightly disheveled, his gaze fixed on the cutting board in front of him.

He wasn’t sure why he’d decided to try this. Zaru Soba was simple, reliable, familiar - so why had he chosen this particular morning to attempt something new? Perhaps it was boredom, or curiosity, or perhaps it was... something else entirely.

The cutting board, however, seemed to mock him. The vegetables he’d attempted to slice were uneven and awkwardly shaped, some pieces impossibly thin while others resembled lopsided cubes. The rice cooker beeped insistently in the background, demanding attention he wasn’t ready to give.

And the miso soup... well, that was another matter entirely. The pot on the stove was bubbling ominously, its contents a murky, unappealing shade of beige, with the seaweed looking like it had decided to curl up and surrender.

Shouto frowned, his mismatched eyes narrowing as he tried to remember the steps he’d read online. Something about simmering the dashi stock, or was it supposed to boil? Did he add the miso paste before or after the vegetables?

The faint sound of footsteps pulled his attention toward the doorway.

“Todoroki?”

He turned, his expression neutral but vaguely sheepish as Momo stepped into the kitchen. Her hair was pulled into a neat ponytail, her uniform crisp despite the early hour. She blinked, her onyx eyes widening slightly as she took in the state of the kitchen.

“What are you... doing?” she asked, her voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and concern.

“Cooking,” Shouto said simply, though the word felt inadequate given the chaos around him.

Momo tilted her head slightly, her lips curving into a faint smile as she stepped closer. “I see,” she said, her tone light but amused. “What are you trying to make?”

“Miso soup,” he replied, gesturing toward the pot, “and rice.”

Her gaze drifted to the cutting board, the vegetables resembling something salvaged from a battlefield. “And... the vegetables?”

Shouto glanced at them briefly before returning his gaze to her. “They’re supposed to be decorative.”

Momo’s smile widened as she bit back a quiet laugh. “I see,” she said again, though her tone was slightly warmer now. “Would you like some help?”

He hesitated for a moment before nodding. “If you have time.”

She set her bag aside, rolling up her sleeves as she moved to the cutting board. “Let’s start with the vegetables,” she said, picking up the knife with practiced ease.

Shouto watched as she sliced through the ingredients with precision, each piece perfectly uniform in shape and size. Her movements were fluid, her focus unwavering as she arranged the slices neatly on the plate.

“I didn’t know you were good at this,” he said quietly, his tone even but tinged with admiration.

Momo smiled, her gaze flicking briefly to his before returning to the task at hand. “I’ve always been interested in Traditional Japanese cuisine. It’s something I grew up learning from my mother.”

Shouto nodded, his expression thoughtful. “But you struggle with modern dishes.”

She chuckled softly, her cheeks flushing faintly. “Yes. Western-style cooking is... challenging for me. I’ve never quite mastered it.”

He watched her work, the quiet rhythm of her movements strangely calming. She moved to the stove, adjusting the heat beneath the pot and stirring the soup with careful precision.

“You added the miso paste too early,” she said gently, her voice laced with patience. “It’s best to dissolve it after the vegetables have softened.”

He nodded, filing the information away as he stepped closer to observe.

“Here,” she said, handing him the ladle. “You can stir while I finish the rice.”

He took the ladle, his movements slower but deliberate as he followed her instructions. The soup began to take on a more appetizing color, the scent of dashi and miso blending pleasantly in the air.

By the time the rice was done and the vegetables arranged, the kitchen felt less chaotic, the morning light casting a soft glow over their efforts.

Momo smiled as she set the table, her movements graceful as always. “There,” she said, stepping back to admire the finished meal. “Much better.”

Shouto glanced at the dishes, his expression calm but quietly satisfied. “Thank you,” he said simply.

She tilted her head slightly, her smile widening. “Anytime, Todoroki.”

As they sat down to eat, the quiet warmth of the morning settled between them, unspoken but undeniable.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The late afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the U.A. campus, the golden light filtering through the trees and dappling the cobblestone paths. Shouto walked at a steady pace, his hands tucked into his pockets as he made his way toward the library. He wasn’t in a rush - he rarely was - but his steps quickened slightly as he neared the familiar building.

He wasn’t sure why he’d started doing this. It wasn’t as though Momo needed his help carrying her books or walking back to the dorms. She was perfectly capable, as she always reminded him. But somehow, he found himself here more often than not, waiting for her to finish her research or study sessions so they could walk back together.

It wasn’t intentional, he told himself. It was just... convenient.

The library doors swung open, and there she was.

Momo stepped into the sunlight, her bag slung neatly over her shoulder and a small stack of books cradled in her arms. Her hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, a few strands framing her face as she glanced around. When her eyes landed on him, her expression brightened, her lips curving into a soft smile.

“Todoroki,” she said warmly, her voice carrying over the quiet hum of the campus.

“Yaoyorozu,” he replied, his tone even but quieter than usual.

She approached him, her steps light and graceful as always. “Were you waiting for me?”

He hesitated for a moment before nodding. “I thought I’d walk you back.”

Her smile widened, and she adjusted the books in her arms. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you.”

Without thinking, Shouto reached out, his hand brushing against hers as he took the books from her arms. “I’ll carry these.”

Momo blinked, her cheeks flushing faintly as she glanced at him. “Oh, I can do it, you don’t have to-”

“I don’t mind,” he said simply, his grip firm but gentle as he held the books.

She hesitated for a moment before nodding, her smile softening. “Alright. Thank you.”

They walked in comfortable silence, the quiet rhythm of their steps blending with the rustle of leaves in the breeze. Shouto’s gaze flicked to her occasionally, drawn to the way the sunlight caught in her hair or the faint curve of her smile as she glanced at the campus around them.

When they reached the dorms, Momo turned to him, her expression warm and sincere. “Thank you again, Todoroki. You’re always so thoughtful.”

He nodded, his chest tightening slightly at her words. “It’s nothing,” he said quietly, though the faint warmth in his cheeks betrayed him.

As she disappeared into the building, Shouto stood in place for a moment longer, the weight of her books still lingering in his hands.

It wasn’t intentional, he told himself again. But as he turned to head back to his own room, the faint scent of vanilla and roses followed him, stubborn and unshakable, like a quiet reminder of something he wasn’t ready to name.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows of the Class 2-A study room, casting golden patterns across the polished wooden table. Momo sat at her usual spot, her textbooks and notebooks spread out in neat, orderly rows. A steaming cup of green tea rested beside her, the faint aroma calming as she reviewed her notes for an upcoming quiz.

Her pen hovered just above the page, poised to underline an important point, but her focus wavered. She frowned slightly, her gaze drifting to the chair across from her.

Empty.

It wasn’t unusual for her to study alone - she preferred the quiet, after all—but lately, she had grown accustomed to a certain presence during these sessions. Todoroki often joined her, his calm and steady demeanor a quiet anchor in the whirlwind of their demanding schedules.

She shook her head slightly, her cheeks warming as she returned her attention to her notes. It was nothing, she told herself. His presence was simply... reassuring. Practical.

Her pen moved across the page again, but her thoughts refused to settle. She found herself remembering the moments when he’d offered her quiet encouragement during their training sessions, his mismatched eyes steady and unwavering as he pushed her to reach beyond her limits.

She thought of the way he listened during their study sessions, his questions thoughtful and deliberate, his tone always calm but quietly curious.

And then, unbidden, came the memory of the kitchen - the way he’d stood there, surrounded by chaos, as he earnestly attempted to prepare something other than his usual Zaru Soba. She smiled faintly at the thought, the warmth in her chest spreading as she remembered how he had accepted her help without hesitation, trusting her guidance without question.

“Todoroki,” she murmured softly, her voice barely audible in the quiet room.

Why did her thoughts keep drifting to him?

Momo sighed, setting her pen down and resting her chin in her hand. She couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment it had started - the quiet pull that seemed to draw her attention to him more and more with each passing day.

It wasn’t distraction, exactly. More like... awareness.

She admired him deeply - his determination, his strength, the quiet kindness that often went unnoticed beneath his stoic exterior. She respected him as a peer, as a classmate, as someone who shared her commitment to becoming the best hero she could be.

But lately, it felt like something more.

Her gaze drifted to the window, her mind swirling with half-formed thoughts and unanswered questions. She wasn’t sure what it meant - this strange, inexplicable feeling that seemed to settle in her chest whenever she was near him.

“Todoroki,” she said again, the name a quiet anchor in the sea of her thoughts.

Whatever it was, she decided, it didn’t need to be defined. Not yet.

For now, she was content to let the moments they shared speak for themselves - the quiet study sessions, the training that pushed them both to their limits, the warmth of his presence that always seemed to steady her.

And as the afternoon light faded into the soft glow of evening, Momo returned to her notes, her thoughts still lingering on him despite her best efforts to focus.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The faint light of dawn spilled through the kitchen windows, the soft glow illuminating the polished countertops and casting gentle shadows across the room. Momo stood at the stove, her sleeves carefully rolled up and her hair tied back in a neat ponytail. The quiet hum of the rice cooker and the faint sizzle of miso soup on the stovetop filled the air, blending with the early morning stillness.

She wasn’t sure why she had decided to do this. Perhaps it was the memory of Todoroki standing in this very kitchen, surrounded by the chaos of his well-intentioned cooking attempt. Or perhaps it was the subtle shifts she had noticed lately - the way he seemed more curious, more willing to explore beyond his usual choices.

Either way, the idea had taken root, and now she found herself carefully preparing a Traditional Japanese breakfast.

The components were simple but deliberate: steamed rice, miso soup, tamagoyaki, grilled salmon, and a small assortment of pickled vegetables. Momo moved with practiced precision, her hands steady as she arranged each dish with care.

The tamagoyaki was golden and perfectly layered, the salmon lightly seasoned and grilled to perfection. The miso soup had a comforting aroma, the balance of dashi and miso paste just right. She plated everything neatly, ensuring the presentation was as thoughtful as the preparation.

As she set the table, the faint sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway. Momo turned, her gaze softening as Todoroki stepped into the kitchen.

“Todoroki,” she said warmly, her voice breaking through the quiet. “Good morning.”

He blinked, his mismatched eyes widening slightly as he took in the sight of the neatly arranged table. “Yaoyorozu,” he said slowly. “What’s this?”

“A traditional Japanese breakfast,” she explained, gesturing to the table. “I thought you might like to try something different.”

He hesitated for a moment before stepping closer, his gaze flickering over the dishes. “You made all this?”

She nodded, her cheeks flushing faintly. “It’s nothing elaborate. Just a simple breakfast.”

His lips twitched upward in the faintest hint of a smile, and he nodded. “Thank you.”

They sat down together, the quiet warmth of the morning settling between them as Todoroki picked up his chopsticks and took his first bite of tamagoyaki.

“It’s good,” he said simply, his tone steady but sincere.

Momo smiled, her chest tightening slightly at his words. “I’m glad you like it.”

He tried each dish in turn, his movements deliberate but unhurried as he savored the flavors. Momo watched him, her own meal momentarily forgotten as she noted the way his expression softened with each bite.

“You’re good at this,” he said finally, his gaze meeting hers.

She chuckled softly, her cheeks warming again. “It’s something I’ve always enjoyed,” she admitted. “Traditional Japanese cuisine is... calming, in a way. It reminds me of home.”

Todoroki nodded thoughtfully, his expression unreadable but calm. “You should teach me sometime.”

Momo blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Teach you?”

He nodded again, his gaze steady. “If I’m going to branch out, I might as well learn properly.”

She smiled, her heart swelling slightly at his words. “I’d be happy to. Anytime.”

As the morning light grew brighter, the two of them continued their meal, the quiet rhythm of their conversation blending with the stillness of the kitchen.

And though Momo couldn’t quite name the feeling that lingered in her chest, she knew one thing for certain: moments like this - moments of shared simplicity and quiet connection—were worth treasuring.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The soft glow of the afternoon sun bathed the U.A. campus in a warm light, the golden hues catching on the trees and casting long shadows across the cobblestone paths. Momo stood just outside the training grounds, her clipboard held neatly in her hands as she waited for the rest of her class to gather for the next session.

Her thoughts were focused - or, at least, they should have been. She had volunteered to organize this particular exercise, ensuring that everyone’s training would be both challenging and beneficial. The clipboard in her hands contained all the necessary details: pairings, goals, and instructions. It was, by all accounts, a perfectly planned session.

So why was her mind elsewhere?

Her onyx eyes flicked across the training field, scanning the faces of her classmates until they landed - inevitably - on him.

Shouto stood a few meters away, adjusting the bracers on his wrists with practiced ease. His expression was calm and unreadable, as it always was, but there was a quiet intensity to his movements that drew her attention more than it should have. The sunlight caught in his two-toned hair, the strands of white and red blending together like a brushstroke of light.

Momo realized she was staring and quickly averted her gaze, her cheeks warming as she pretended to adjust the clipboard in her hands.

Why did her thoughts always seem to drift to him lately?

It wasn’t as though she didn’t think highly of the others - she admired all her classmates in different ways. But Shouto... he was different. It wasn’t just his strength or his skill; it was the way he carried himself. The quiet determination that drove him forward, the kindness that lingered beneath his reserved exterior.

She thought of the way he’d stepped in during that encounter in the cafeteria, his words calm but firm as he shielded her from the pushy General Education student. It wasn’t just the act itself that had stayed with her - it was the way he had looked at her afterward, his mismatched eyes steady and resolute, as if to silently ask if she was alright.

Her chest tightened slightly at the memory, the warmth spreading in a way that left her both flustered and confused.

“Yaomomo!” Mina’s voice pulled her from her thoughts, the pink-haired girl bounding over with her usual energy.

“Yes?” Momo replied, her voice steady despite her momentary lapse in focus.

Mina grinned, leaning in conspiratorially. “We’re all set, but, uh, you might want to let Todoroki know he’s supposed to pair with Iida for this one. He looks kinda lost.”

Momo blinked, her gaze flicking to Shouto again. He was still adjusting his gear, his movements slower now, as if he were waiting for instructions.

“Right,” Momo said, her tone carefully even as she stepped forward.

As she approached him, she noticed the slight furrow of his brow, the subtle tilt of his head as he glanced at the field. He looked... almost hesitant, though it was such a small change in his demeanor that she doubted anyone else would have noticed.

“Todoroki,” she said softly, her voice carrying just enough to catch his attention.

He turned to her, his mismatched eyes meeting hers with an intensity that sent her heart skittering. “Yaoyorozu,” he said simply, his tone even.

“I just wanted to remind you that you’ll be paired with Iida for this exercise,” she said, gesturing to her clipboard.

He nodded, his expression steady. “Understood.”

She hesitated for a moment, her gaze lingering on his face. “And... if there’s anything unclear, please let me know. I’d be happy to explain.”

His lips twitched upward in the faintest hint of a smile, and he nodded again. “Thank you.”

As she stepped back, her thoughts swirled. It wasn’t unusual for her to offer assistance - she prided herself on being approachable and reliable. But with Shouto, it felt different. She wanted to ensure he succeeded, not just because it was her responsibility, but because his progress mattered to her in a way she couldn’t quite explain.

And as she returned to her spot, clipboard in hand and the session ready to begin, she couldn’t help but wonder if this strange, unfamiliar feeling was more than just admiration.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The training grounds buzzed with the quiet hum of anticipation as Class 2-A assembled in front of Aizawa-sensei. The afternoon sunlight filtered through the high windows, casting long streaks of light across the floor as the students murmured among themselves.

“Alright, listen up,” Aizawa began, his voice as sharp as ever despite the faint weariness in his tone. His scarf was draped loosely around his neck, and his ever-present sleeping bag was nowhere in sight—for once, he seemed fully engaged.

“With internships starting soon, we’ll be focusing on practical experience this week. You’ll be conducting supervised patrols in designated areas. Each group will rotate between urban, suburban, and rural zones to gain a range of experience. I’ve divided you into teams based on your abilities and compatibility.”

He held up a clipboard, his tired gaze sweeping over the class. “I expect you to work together and approach each situation with professionalism. No unnecessary risks. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir!” the class responded in unison.

“Good,” Aizawa said, scanning the list. “Here are the assignments.”

• 𝙶𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚙 𝙾𝚗𝚎: 𝙳𝚎𝚗𝚔𝚒 𝙺𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚒, 𝙼𝚘𝚖𝚘 𝚈𝚊𝚘𝚢𝚘𝚛𝚘𝚣𝚞, 𝙺𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚔𝚊 𝙹𝚒𝚛𝚘𝚞

• 𝙶𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚙 𝚃𝚠𝚘: 𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚘 𝚃𝚘𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚒, 𝙸𝚣𝚞𝚔𝚞 𝙼𝚒𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚢𝚊, 𝙾𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚔𝚘 𝚄𝚛𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚔𝚊

• 𝙶𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚙 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎: 𝙺𝚊𝚝𝚜𝚞𝚔𝚒 𝙱𝚊𝚔𝚞𝚐𝚘𝚞, 𝙴𝚒𝚓𝚒𝚛𝚘𝚞 𝙺𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚊, 𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚊 𝙰𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚍𝚘

•  

  𝙶𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚙 𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚛: 𝙵𝚞𝚖𝚒𝚔𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚃𝚘𝚔𝚘𝚢𝚊𝚖𝚒, 𝚈𝚞𝚞𝚐𝚊 𝙰𝚘𝚢𝚊𝚖𝚊, 𝚃𝚘𝚘𝚛𝚞 𝙷𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚔𝚞𝚛𝚎

•  

  𝙶𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚙 𝙵𝚒𝚟𝚎: 𝙼𝚎𝚣𝚘𝚞 𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚓𝚒, 𝙷𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊 𝚂𝚎𝚛𝚘, 𝚁𝚒𝚔𝚒𝚍𝚘𝚞 𝚂𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚞, 𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚞 𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚊

•  

  𝙶𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚙 𝚂𝚒𝚡: 𝚃𝚜𝚞𝚢𝚞 𝙰𝚜𝚞𝚒, 𝚃𝚎𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝙸𝚒𝚍𝚊, 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚘 𝙾𝚓𝚒𝚛𝚘, 𝙺𝚘𝚞𝚓𝚒 𝙺𝚘𝚞𝚍𝚊

The class dispersed to their respective groups, the chatter of voices filling the air as the students exchanged glances and murmurs of excitement.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

“So,” Kaminari began, slinging an arm casually over Jirou’s shoulder, “Team Awesome is reporting for duty! I mean, look at us - brains, brawn, and... well, whatever it is I bring to the table.”

Jirou rolled her eyes, shoving his arm off. “You bring comic relief, Jamming Whey.”

Momo smiled, her hands clasped neatly in front of her. “I think we’ll work well together. It’s important to balance each other’s strengths.”

“Exactly!” Kaminari said, beaming. “And if anyone tries anything, we’ve got Yaoyorozu to outsmart them and Jirou to blow their eardrums out.”

Jirou smirked faintly, adjusting her earlobe jacks. “Just don’t get in the way, Kaminari.”

“I won’t! Probably,” he added sheepishly.

Midoriya adjusted his gloves nervously, glancing between Shouto and Uraraka. “This is going to be great,” he said, his tone full of quiet determination. “We’ve got a balanced team - ranged, close combat, and support. If we work together, we’ll-”

“Izuku,” Uraraka interrupted gently, her smile soft. “Breathe. We’ll be fine.”

“Right! Sorry,” Midoriya said, scratching the back of his neck.

Shouto, standing slightly to the side, watched the exchange with quiet amusement. “Midoriya,” he said evenly, “you overthink too much.”

Midoriya blinked, his face flushing faintly. “I-I’m just trying to plan ahead!”

“Sometimes it’s better to adapt in the moment,” Shouto replied simply.

Uraraka chuckled, adjusting her hero gloves. “I think we’ve got a good team. Let’s show them what we’ve got.”

Shouto nodded, his gaze steady. “Let’s.”

“This is gonna be awesome!” Kirishima said, punching the air with a grin. “We’re like the ultimate powerhouse team!”

“Tch,” Bakugou muttered, crossing his arms. “As long as you two don’t slow me down, whatever.”

Mina leaned in, her grin mischievous. “Aww, you’re stuck with us, Bakugou! Better make the most of it.”

“Shut up, raccoon eyes,” Bakugou snapped, though there was no real bite to his words.

Kirishima clapped a hand on Bakugou’s shoulder, his grin unwavering. “Come on, man. It’s gonna be great. We’ve got your back!”

“Don’t need it,” Bakugou grumbled, but the faintest hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

As the groups prepared to head out, Aizawa called out one last reminder. “Remember, this is a learning experience. Stay sharp, stay safe, and don’t embarrass me.”

The students nodded, their enthusiasm palpable as they set out for their respective patrols.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The suburban streets were quiet in the late afternoon, the faint hum of cicadas filling the air as the three heroes-in-training walked side by side. The patrol route was straightforward - a stretch of residential neighborhoods interspersed with small parks and local shops. It wasn’t the busiest zone, but it offered plenty of opportunity to observe and engage with the community.

“So, here we are,” Kaminari began, his arms stretched lazily behind his head. “Three soon-to-be Pro Heroes patrolling the peaceful streets. Totally chill, right?”

“Until something goes wrong,” Jirou muttered, her sharp eyes scanning the area for potential issues.

Momo smiled faintly, adjusting the strap of her utility belt as she glanced at the two of them. “Let’s stay focused. This is still a training exercise, and it’s important to treat it seriously.”

“Of course!” Kaminari said with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Team Awesome is all about serious business. Right, Jirou?”

Jirou rolled her eyes but smirked faintly. “Yeah, sure. Just don’t electrocute anyone, Jamming Whey.”

“Hey, I only do that sometimes!” Kaminari protested, his tone playful.

Momo chuckled softly, her attention shifting to the surroundings. The suburban zone was quiet and orderly, the kind of place where families lived and kids played outside. She could see a group of children riding bikes down the street, their laughter carrying over the hum of summer.

The peaceful scene was reassuring, but Momo knew better than to relax completely. Even the quietest areas could hold surprises, and it was their responsibility to be prepared.

As they turned a corner, Jirou suddenly stopped, her earlobe jacks twitching as she tilted her head. “Hold on,” she said, her voice sharp but controlled.

Momo and Kaminari paused immediately, their attention snapping to her.

“What is it?” Momo asked, her tone calm but alert.

Jirou’s eyes narrowed slightly, her jacks picking up faint vibrations from further down the street. “I think there’s a commotion at that park. It doesn’t sound major, but it’s worth checking out.”

Kaminari straightened, his playful demeanor shifting into quiet focus. “Got it. Let’s go.”

The three of them moved quickly but steadily, their pace measured as they approached the small park at the end of the block. The sound of raised voices grew louder, mingling with the occasional bark of a dog and the chatter of startled onlookers.

As they entered the park, they spotted the source of the commotion - a large dog had broken free from its leash and was barking loudly, its behavior agitated as its owner tried to calm it down. Nearby, a child was crying, apparently startled by the sudden noise.

“Not exactly a villain attack,” Kaminari murmured, his tone light but steady.

“Still important,” Momo said firmly. “We need to deescalate the situation.”

“I’ll handle the dog,” Jirou said, her jacks twitching faintly as she approached the owner. “Denki, check on the kid. Momo, can you talk to the onlookers and make sure everyone’s okay?”

“Understood,” Momo replied, her tone resolute as she moved toward the small crowd that had gathered nearby.

Momo approached the onlookers with calm authority, her hands held slightly forward in a reassuring gesture. “Everything is under control,” she said, her voice steady but warm. “Please give us some space to handle the situation.”

The onlookers nodded, stepping back as Momo continued to monitor the scene. She glanced at Jirou, who was using her Quirk to calm the dog’s agitation, her quiet frequencies blending seamlessly with her low, soothing tone.

Meanwhile, Kaminari crouched near the crying child, his usual playful energy replaced with gentle patience as he handed them a tissue and offered a bright, reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, little buddy,” he said softly. “We’ve got it covered.”

The child sniffled, their tears slowing as they nodded tentatively.

Momo felt a quiet sense of satisfaction as the situation began to stabilize, the tension in the air dissipating with each passing moment.

When the commotion had fully settled, the three regrouped near the park entrance, their expressions relaxed but still attentive.

“Well,” Kaminari said with a grin, “not bad for our first patrol, huh?”

Jirou smirked faintly, adjusting her earlobe jacks. “It wasn’t exactly a high-stakes mission, but yeah. We handled it.”

Momo nodded, her smile softening as she glanced at her teammates. “Good teamwork. Let’s keep that up.”

“Team Awesome,” Kaminari said dramatically, striking a mock pose.

Jirou rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling.

As they continued down the street, the quiet rhythm of their patrol resumed, each of them reflecting on the small but meaningful success of their teamwork.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The city bustled with the energy of a weekday afternoon, the streets alive with the chatter of pedestrians and the distant hum of traffic. Shouto walked at a steady pace alongside Midoriya and Uraraka, his gaze calm but attentive as he scanned the area for anything unusual. Their patrol route covered a section of the urban zone - a mix of crowded sidewalks, local shops, and apartment buildings.

“Alright,” Uraraka said, her voice bright but focused. “We should stick together and stay alert. If anything happens, we’ll cover for each other.”

“Got it,” Midoriya replied quickly, his tone brimming with quiet determination.

Shouto nodded, his hands tucked into his pockets. “Understood.”

They moved in a loose formation, Uraraka leading slightly ahead while Midoriya and Shouto flanked her on either side. The three of them worked in a natural rhythm, their shared experience as classmates making their movements instinctive and coordinated.

At least, until the awkwardness started.

As they passed a small park, Uraraka slowed her pace, her gaze drifting toward a vendor selling colorful helium balloons. “Oh, those are cute,” she said, her tone light as she pointed to a cluster of balloons shaped like stars and hearts.

“They are!” Midoriya said enthusiastically, his green eyes lighting up. He opened his mouth to say more but hesitated, his words faltering as his cheeks turned an unmistakable shade of pink.

Uraraka glanced at him, her brows raising slightly in curiosity. “What?”

“N-Nothing!” Midoriya stammered, his hands waving frantically as if to dispel the tension. “I just- uh- I mean, balloons are nice, right? They’re cheerful!”

Shouto blinked, his mismatched eyes narrowing slightly as he observed the interaction. Midoriya’s tone was unusually high-pitched, his gestures far more animated than usual. Uraraka, meanwhile, seemed caught between amusement and mild confusion.

The silence that followed was almost tangible.

“Right,” Uraraka said finally, her lips curving into a small, amused smile. “Cheerful.”

Midoriya nodded quickly, his face still flushed. “Y-Yeah.”

Shouto tilted his head slightly, his expression neutral as he processed the exchange. “Midoriya,” he said after a moment, his tone calm but curious, “are you alright?”

Midoriya flinched, his eyes darting toward Shouto as if realizing for the first time that he had an audience. “I’m fine!” he said quickly, his voice cracking slightly.

Uraraka laughed softly, her expression warming as she turned to Shouto. “He’s fine,” she said, her tone reassuring. “This happens sometimes.”

Shouto blinked again, his gaze shifting between them. There was something unspoken in the way Uraraka smiled at Midoriya - a quiet fondness that softened her features. And Midoriya... well, his awkwardness spoke for itself.

Shouto frowned slightly, his thoughts lingering. It wasn’t the first time he had noticed this dynamic between them, the subtle but undeniable connection that seemed to hum in the air whenever they were near each other.

“You like her,” Shouto said matter-of-factly, his gaze locking onto Midoriya.

Midoriya froze, his face turning a shade of red that could rival Kirishima’s hair. “Wha- I-I mean- what?” he sputtered, his words tumbling over themselves in a frantic attempt at denial.

Uraraka’s eyes widened, her own cheeks flushing faintly as she glanced away, suddenly very interested in the balloons again.

Shouto tilted his head, his expression completely neutral. “It’s obvious,” he said simply.

Midoriya groaned, burying his face in his hands as Uraraka let out a nervous laugh. “T-Todoroki, you really don’t hold back, do you?” she said, her voice shaky but amused.

“I didn’t mean to make it awkward,” Shouto replied, his tone even but slightly puzzled. “It just seemed relevant.”

Midoriya let out a sound somewhere between a sigh and a whimper, and Uraraka patted his shoulder lightly, her own embarrassment giving way to quiet amusement.

“Let’s just focus on the patrol,” Uraraka said quickly, her tone a little too cheerful as she began walking again.

Midoriya nodded frantically, falling into step beside her while avoiding Shouto’s gaze entirely.

Shouto followed at his usual pace, his hands still tucked into his pockets. He didn’t understand why his comment had caused such a reaction - it had been an observation, nothing more.

But as he watched the subtle, awkward glances Midoriya and Uraraka exchanged, the faint tension softening into quiet camaraderie, he found himself thinking about the nature of connections. About how some things were unspoken yet unmistakable.

And, unbidden, his thoughts drifted back to Momo.

Chapter Text

In which Momo Yaoyorozu realizes just how much people doubt her

(We all agree Momo was screwed over by MHA/BNHA's canon narrative, right?)

Shouto Todoroki (轟とどろき焦しょう凍と Todoroki Shōto) - "I want it, too. I'll be a hero!"

Age - 19

Birthplace - (Near) Shizuoka Prefecture

Birthday - January 11th

Blood Type - O+

Physical Description - 6'0 1/4 and rather muscular and well-built for his age, stemming from his intense training as a child, with fairly tanned skin. His eyes, in shape, were thin and reserved, while being heterochromatic, left eye an icy turquoise while his right a steel gray and usually set in a neutral expression. His hair was slightly frazzled and mimicked the mismatching, the right locks chalk white and the left locks crimson red with a few small flecks white on the left and crimson on the right at the crown. It was grown out - to piss off his father - and tied back into a small, low, slightly messy, ponytail at the base of his neck, with his bangs falling to his mid-nose bridge and parted twice to avoid obscuring his vision. On the left side of his face was a burn scar from his hairline to halfway down his cheek from when he was a child, his mother had a lapse of sanity due to his father's abuse and threw a kettle of boiling water she had near her over her son's face. However, what scarred him was Rei attempting to soothe the burn using her Frost Quirk - though it's fading as he ages. He also had a small X-shaped burn at the center of his chest from using Phosphor excessively during his fight with Dabi without mastering it.

Personality Description - Cold, aloof, distant, and socially awkward. He closed himself off, not bothering to build friendships or connections with others, which stemmed from his abusive upbringing and complicated family life. However, after First Year's Sports Festival, he became somewhat sociable and kind, even gaining a sense of humor and occasionally smiling, although still retaining his distant attitude and nonchalant demeanor. While usually quiet, Shouto possessed a moderate level of arrogance inherited from his father, which, combined with his solitary tendencies, made him take the initiative without considering the opinions of others at times, displaying confidence that he could take on any obstacle with his strength. Shouto seemed to prefer acting alone, though he only did for practical purposes since it allowed him to unleash his full power without worrying about allies. Calm and composed yet brutal in combat, Shouto was well-grounded on ethics, since defeating his oldest brother, Touya/Dabi, while some of his awkward character remained, he became more laid back and made a name for himself as a hardworking hero who treated all his fans equally and with respect. Just as he always wanted, Shouto became his own hero, with people thinking less and less of him as Endeavor's son. Touya had only been given a few years and could only talk for a few minutes a day, however, he'd defied the odds and made a full recovery. Now, Touya had gone through rehab at Fujitani Hospital and was now back with his family. Enji retired from Hero Work to spend all his time making amends for his actions. Shouto once had a deep loathing for his fire abilities, which he inherited from Endeavor, as it symbolized his father's wickedness towards him and his mother as well as what he was born to be: a tool to surpass All Might, a fate that he detested. Shouto often felt bothered by Enji's mere presence and could barely contain his anger while talking to him, especially whenever the Pro Hero brought up the purpose he had intended for his son since before birth. Ironically though, Shouto's animosity towards his father made him more like how Endeavor was, being apathetic and indifferent towards others while obsessively focusing on his own goal of rejecting his father. Shouto was quite reflective of his own growth, due to this, he was not against his father trying to make amends with his family and become a better person, knowing from experience that a single thing can change a person if they allow it to. However, Shouto's grudge towards Enji had not yet disappeared, self-admitting that such resentment can't vanish so easily and that he was wrong in trying to bury it. He remained relatively cold towards Enji and had made it clear that forgiveness for his past treatment of him and his mother was difficult but has also demonstrated worry about his father's safety. Ever since Enji tried to repair his relationship with his family, Shouto had taken a cautious, yet hopeful approach to this development, not seeming against the possibility of forgiving his father; however, he made it clear to Endeavor that he must earn it.

Quirk - Half-Cold-Half-Hot; Gave him the ability to generate ice from the right side of his body, and flames from his left side. If he overused one element without utilizing the other, then his body temperature would suffer; the ice half would cause frostbite and the fire half would cause heatstroke. Until his bodily limit was reached, however, neither had any visible effect. Shouto could easily negate this weakness by alternating between ice and fire. Further development of his Quirk and mastery over his fire had allowed Shouto to combine both halves into a 'cold fire', making use of his circulatory system to move the hot and cold blood around his body, merging the fire and ice into one ability - which he called Phosphor. This gave Shouto immunity to heat-based Quirks, as well as improved offensive capabilities, especially against those with such Quirks. However, this way of using his Quirk required a certain level of concentration to maintain it; otherwise, it would falter and dissipate.

School - U.A. High

Occupation - Hero-in-Training

Also Known As - The Frozen-Fire Hero; Shouto

Hero Chart Ranking - UNRANKED

Hero Costume - A navy blue heat-resistant jacket with elbow-length sleeves, it was collar high, with a cooling/heating device within it, and joined in the center by a gray neckpiece while featuring a large gray-blue T-shaped stripe going from his waist to his armpits. Baggy pants of the same color as his jacket, a metal-plated tactical vest that functioned as both a heater and radiator. White boots with soles equipped with spikes and a thin line running down the center of each of them a darker pale gray. He also sported a brown utility belt around his waist, which could hold eight little metal capsules containing medical supplies hanging off. He also wore two burgundy wrist guards with armor-like bracing, accompanied by plating from his wrist to his knuckles, which could store up heat and cold to help condense his power.

Fighting Specialty - Ranged Combat

Favorite Food - Zaru Soba

Other Facts(Headcanons) - His hair was soft yet two different textures, the white thin while the red held more volume and was fairly fluffy. His hands were calloused from training, yet gentle. He smelled like smoke, sage, and hint of peppermint. His favorite fruit was blackberries. When Shouto was mad, his right side activated subconsciously, lowering the temperature in the room, when he was flustered, his flames subconsciously activated.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

Momo Yaoyorozu (八や百お万よろず百もも Yaoyorozu Momo) - "We've got to start at the bottom and work up! And if we don't earnestly cheer each other on... We'll never be great heroes!"

Age - 19

Birthplace - Aichi Prefecture

Birthday - September 23rd

Blood Type - A-

Physical Description - 5'11 with a mature physique, her hair was raven black, tied into a spiky ponytail with a large strand hanging on the right side of her face. Her skin was a pale porcelain, and her eyes were big yet sharp, colored onyx, paired with short eyebrows often set in a stern expression. She had a scar on her left temple that went to her upper cheek from the Forest Training Camp ambush by the L.o.V First Year.

Personality Description - Prudent, dedicated, levelheaded, calm, kind, polite, and relatively innocent yet reserved. She wasn't one to initiate a friendship, due to past experiences of only being used for her money, status, or looks. However, once you truly got to know her, she was this warm, bright, energetic, and upbeat person who loved to spend time with and help out her friends as well as those in need. Though she often wears a mask of perfection, compartmentalizing her emotions and opting to help others through their struggles without acknowledging her own.

Quirk - Creation; Gave her the ability to create any non-living material/object from her exposed skin by transforming the molecular structure of her fat cells. To create something, she needed to understand the molecular structure of what the material/object is made of. The more Momo ate, the more material she had to work with, so she needed considerable food ingestion for her Quirk to be effective. However, it took her a more extended period and more skin exposure to create large objects. This aspect of Momo's Quirk is likely the reason for her slim figure, as she constantly burned her fat to create objects. This was also a significant weakness because if she generated too much without replacing her calories, she could become weak and anemic.

School - U.A. High

Occupation - Hero-in-Training

Also Known As - The Everything Hero; Creati

Hero Chart Ranking - UNRANKED

Hero Costume - An open back high-collared, sleeveless crimson leotard with silver lines at her waist and around her arms. It covered her entire torso yet had a boob window. Her high-collared red cape over her costume with a ring around her neck and a large red gemstone at her throat that used to be exclusively for her winter costume she now wore all the time, modifying the material to be comfortable and suitable in all weather conditions. She had crimson leggings - the side thigh being open and outlined in silver as she can only use her Quirk with exposed skin - and a gold utility belt around her waist. The book she used to carry - what her mother dubbed the 'Yaoyorictionary' - on composition information, was now converted into a watch, making it more convenient. She wore her sports calf-length red boots with heels, which dipped sharply down in the center. The collar of the boots was lined with silver, while there was a gold hexagonal outline on the back of the shaft of the boot from just below the collar to the ankle, and the sole of the boot was black.

Fighting Specialty - Close & Support Combat

Favorite Food (Headcanon) - Gyoza

Fun Facts (Headcanons) - Momo had a somewhat casual, natural, and non-lewd view toward nudity, she also had very little self-preservation and fidgeted when she was nervous or anxious. Due to past experiences, there are very few men outside her family Momo trusted. Her hands were rougher than expected from training, but still soft. She smelled like vanilla, roses, and a hint of cherry blossom. Her favorite fruit was strawberries. She needed to eat twice a normal person to maintain a healthy weight due to her Quirk and already fast metabolism, she also wore contacts - but only for reading. When Momo was overly embarrassed, nervous, or flustered her Quirk activated subconsciously and Russian Matryoshka Dolls popped out from her arms.

Other Facts (My AU) - As a child she wasn't allowed outside the property gate unless 'absolutely necessary', and while the Yaoyorozu Estate took up a whole street line worth of houses, it got boring. Momo couldn't interact with other kids; she didn't have friends. All she had were her studies and lessons. Everything was planned out for her since before she was born. She didn't get an opinion, a say, or an option for what she did or didn't do. Momo's mother, Hidoi, was strict, neglectful, and emotionally abusive. However, she was also extremely possessive of her daughter, controlling every aspect of Momo's life. Momo's father, Zankoku, barely came out of his office. For the public, he put on a charming act but really, he was cold and unforgiving. He always threatened Momo with violence, and at first, she called his bluff, but he stayed true to his word one day when Momo said too many words and ended up with multiple injuries. Her mother took a more phycological punishment, locking Momo in what she called her 'Thinking Room' which was the one untouched room of the house that was cramped, dark, and dirty - this led to Momo developing mild claustrophobia. Momo was primarily raised and cared for by her aunt (Hanta's mom). Her aunt, Ichigo Sero, was the one to introduce her to hero work and allow her to take Bōjutsu and Kenjutsu - without Momo's parents' knowledge. Ichigo was also the one to send Momo's application to U.A. and was the reason why Momo acted nothing like her parents. Momo's aunt was such a mother figure to her that she called her 'mom' whenever her parents aren't around.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

Izuku Midoriya (緑みどり谷や出いず久く Midoriya Izuku) - "It's not all black-and-white. Most things in this world are in shades of gray. A blend of fear and anger. Which is exactly why... I've gotta extend a helping hand!"

Age - 19

Birthplace - (Near) Shizuoka Prefecture

Birthday - July 15th

Blood Type - O-

Physical Description - 5'7 1/4 with a round face framed by a mop of fluffy dark-green hair grown out in a mullet which curled up at odd angles around his head, casting noticeably dark shadows onto itself and was parted slightly to the right. His eyes were large and somewhat circular, and his irises were emerald green, which at times are very watery, and are usually stretched quite wide, giving him an innocent, energized appearance. He had a set of four symmetrical freckles in diamond formations, one on each cheek. Izuku had often been described as "plain-looking" or "not standing out" by others. He had developed and defined muscles, the fingers on his right hand slightly deformed, and his hand showed visible scarring. His right arm was further damaged after his intense fight, leaving many more scars. Following his recovery after the previously mentioned fight, Izuku wears a black compression sleeve on the upper portion of his right arm in order to support the heavy damage it sustained: it is partially visible when he wears short sleeves. He had two face scars, one on the right side of his head, and the other below his right eye spreading down his cheek and reaching his chin.

Personality Description - A very timid, reserved, and polite boy, frequently overreacting to abnormal situations with exaggerated expressions. Due to yeаrs of being looked down on by Katsuki Bakugou for lacking a Quirk, he is initially portrayed as insecure, tearful, vulnerable, and non-expressive. These traits were especially present around Katsuki, who also constantly harangued him for his aspirations to become a hero. However, after being accepted into U.A., making new friends, and facing Katsuki, Izuku gradually matured into a more confident and braver person who was always eager to prove his worth as a hero, eventually developing strong leadership skills, which combined with his passion and strategic abilities, had turned him into a central figure. Izuku was a quite diligent and strong-willed student, being extremely (and sometimes scarily) enthusiastic about topics related to heroes. His dream drove him to write down notes about everything he learns about heroes' Quirks and fighting capabilities. Thanks to this practice, Izuku had developed a great analytical mind and can form complex battle plans in a few seconds, factoring in the best ways he could utilize the Quirks of allies and enemies alike for his own advantage. Izuku externalizes his observations through endless mumbling, a habit that annoyed or creeped out his peers. Izuku often wrote down his observations in a variety of notebooks. He checked on them regularly during school activities, during his free time, or at night. Izuku was caring and emotional, never hesitating to help or rescue someone in danger, even if he knew that he might not be strong or otherwise qualified enough to do it. Often, he did this on instinct, taking a more careless approach than the usual overthinking he goes through and putting himself in peril in order to protect someone.

Quirk - One for All; Transferred to him from Toshinori Yagi, Izuku's Quirk allowed him to stockpile an enormous amount of raw power, allowing him to significantly enhance all of his physical abilities to various boundless levels. This resulted in unbelievable levels of strength, speed, stamina, agility, and durability. When Izuku activated One for All, red, vein-like lines course throughout the empowered part of his body. Izuku could focus the stockpiled power into a single body part, or spread it across his entire body evenly, though, focusing the power in a single part puts a greater strain on that part of his body. He was also able to control what percentage of his full power that he uses. Since he was not born with this power, his body was not naturally suited to handle it, however, over time and with continued training with it, his body has become more accustomed to bracing for the strain. He was able to handle 45% of his full power without breaking his bones, with 30% being his normal output. In addition to the stockpiling power, Izuku also had access to a subconscious realm where vestiges of the consciousnesses of the previous One For All holders dwell. These vestiges could trigger Izuku to activate One For All without any conscious input from himself, as seen when he was under the control of Hitoshi's Quirk and illusionary shadows of these echoes appeared in his vision. Izuku had little to no control over this aspect of One For All, being unable to freely enter or exit, his body not being fully materialized, which limited his movement within the realm, and only being able to talk through muffled sounds since his mouth has not fully manifested yet. However, Izuku had reached the point where he can freely communicate with the vestiges of the previous users while still conscious. Izuku is the first holder of One for All known to have gained access to this realm while still alive. Izuku was granted access to the Quirks of the previous owners of One for All, but he has since transferred someof them to Tomura in an effort to defeat him. This left him with only Blackwhip, Smokescreen, and Float, having transferred Gearshift, Fa Jin, and Denger Sense.

School - U.A. High

Occupation - Hero-in-Training

Also Known As - The Peace-Symbol Hero; Deku

Hero Chart Ranking - UNRANKED

Hero Costume - Created by Melissa Shield and Mei using data collected from All Might's against All for One; funded by members of Class A and gifted to him by All Might, Izuku receives a new technology-based Hero costume that looks markedly like his Costume Zeta, albeit more mechanical. This costume can be stored as a briefcase that is marked with the number 18, Izuku's seat number when he was a student.

Fighting Specialty - Close and Ranged Combat

Favorite Food - Katsudon

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

Hanta Sero (瀬せ呂ろ範はん太た Sero Hanta) - "Unlike some of you, my life wasn't full of wild highs and tragic lows. All I had pushing me forward was, like, not wanting to fall behind on the next practical exam, or whatever. And y'know... it's been some tough times, for him. The guy used to look all zonked-out and empty! Anyone'd be better off... not going through all that miserable, tragic crap!"

Age:   19

Birthplace - Tokyo

Birthday -  July 28th

Blood type -  B-

Physical Description  -  A tall, lean young man with chin-length black hair spiked downwards, with jagged bangs coming about halfway down his forehead. He had almond-shaped eyes, usually stretched quite broad and rather large, with small pupils and straight teeth that dominate his grin; however, according to Katsuki Bakugou and Present Mic he had a rather plain face. His elbows had the shape of cylindrical tape dispensers, from which he fires his Tape Quirk.

Personality Description - Amicable and had proven to be one of the more sociable members of Class A. He could sometimes be loud and showy, often trying to impress his peers with his Quirk. He was often the only person to call his classmates out when they acted crazy. He was pretty humorous and usually made jokes with his friends. However, when push came to shove, Hanta was a brave Pro Hero who wished to prosper on his own while helping others do the same. He made friends with those around him and was shown to be a very laid-back guy. Hanta could keep up his confidence and make an effort, even when he believed the odds were stacked heavily against him. Hanta had a teasing side that he showed on occasion, even towards the high-tempered Katsuki Bakugou, as he was seen jeering at him along with Minoru Mineta for not cleaning their dorms windowsills properly. He could also be one to speak his mind and at times insult others without meaning to. Though not openly flirtatious like Denki or Minoru, Hanta still had some interest in girls. This was primarily seen during the Provisional License Exam when Izuku informed him of the girl who transformed into a clone of Ochako; he started violently shaking Izuku and asking him if she was naked then as well. Later, he informed Denki and Minoru of what happened with Izuku and 'Camie', proving that he also had a habit of spreading gossip.

Quirk -  Tape; He had tape dispenser-like organs in his elbows, from which he could shoot long cellophane tape-like strips; he could also retract them. They appeared to be somewhat sturdier than regular tape. Overuse of his Quirk would cause his skin to dry out. He could use his tape to wrap people, swing long distances, and create traps, among other applications.

School - U.A. High

Occupation - Hero-in-Training

Also Known As - The Taping Hero; Cellophane

Hero Chart Ranking - UNRANKED

Hero Costume - A black, skin-tight bodysuit with a turtleneck, plain apart from a white design on his mid-torso area, and two yellow trimmings around each of his elbow-length sleeves. He wore white boots lined with yellow and had short white bands around his waist and the sides of his thighs, a larger one across his chest to connect his shoulder pads, shaped like tape dispensers. He completed his outfit with a yellow helmet, shaped similarly to his shoulder pads, with a sizeable black visor obscuring his face.

Fighting Specialty - Ranged& Support Combat

Favorite Food (Headcanon) - Oranges and Soy Products

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬:

TodoMomo/CreaShou - Shouto Todoroki x Momo Yaoyorozu

Relationship Type: Mutual Feelings

Relationship Status: Dense

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

KamiJirou/ChargeJack - Denki Kaminari x Kyouka Jirou

Relationship Type: Dating

Relationship Status: Rockin'

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

Chapter Text

The faint hum of the crowd’s cheers echoed through the waiting room walls, a sound that seemed to pierce the stillness of the air around her. Momo sat quietly on the bench, her dark blue P.E. uniform neatly pressed, the white lines forming the distinctive “U” and “A” design that marked her as a U.A. student. The fabric clung to her like a second skin, offering no flair or embellishment to hide behind - only the uniform that symbolized discipline and equality. Her hands rested lightly on her knees, though the tension in her knuckles betrayed the calm facade she fought to maintain.

The Sports Festival was both a stage and a crucible - a chance to prove herself, but also the weight of years of expectations pressing down on her like iron chains. She adjusted the cuffs of her sleeves, her fingers brushing briefly against the cloth as she tried to ground herself. Her focus turned to her next opponent—an aggressive, close-combat fighter whose style was relentless and punishing.

She knew how it would look if she lost. The critics wouldn’t hold back, dismissing her as yet another recommendation student who had “failed” to live up to their privilege. She had heard their words before, dripping with disdain as they accused her of coasting on wealth and status. They didn’t see her effort, her sleepless nights spent memorizing compositions, her determination to meet the expectations of a hero.

And yet, their voices lingered in her mind like a bitter echo, a reminder of the perception that had shadowed her since the beginning.

Tokoyami had been the start of it, the first loss that had solidified her self-doubt and shattered her confidence. Her Quirk, biased against by the tournament’s format, had seemed weak in comparison to the sheer power and aggression others displayed. That perception hadn’t faded - not during her internship with Uwabami, where she had been reduced to a prop for marketing, nor during the Final War, where her contributions had gone unnoticed despite their critical impact.

The thought made her chest tighten, but she exhaled slowly, forcing herself to focus.

“Analyze the field,” she murmured to herself, her voice steady despite the weight in her heart. “Adapt to your opponent. Trust your quirk.”

The door to the waiting room opened, and an attendant stepped inside, clipboard in hand. “Yaoyorozu, you’re up next.”

Momo nodded, standing with practiced grace as she adjusted the hem of her uniform. Her boots tapped lightly against the floor as she moved toward the corridor, the roar of the crowd growing louder with each step.

This wasn’t just another match - it was a chance to take back what had been stripped from her. A chance to prove, not to the world, but to herself, that she was more than the misconceptions that surrounded her.

And as she stepped into the light of the arena, her resolve burned brighter than ever.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The moment the match ended, Momo exhaled slowly, lowering the bō staff she had created mid-fight. Her breathing was steady but deep, each inhale a reminder of the effort she’d poured into the battle. She glanced at her opponent, offering them a polite bow as they recovered from her decisive final move.

The arena was alive with sound, a mixture of cheers and... something else.

At first, she thought she had misheard, the adrenaline in her veins dulling her senses. But as she stood there, her hands tightening slightly on the staff, the boos became unmistakable.

Her chest tightened as the noise registered fully, the stark contrast between her victory and the crowd’s reaction cutting deeper than she anticipated. She had tuned them out during the fight, her focus entirely on strategy and execution. But now, the weight of their disapproval hung heavy in the air, pressing down on her like an unseen force.

Momo straightened her posture, forcing herself to remain composed as she turned toward the exit. The boos weren’t universal - there were cheers as well, a few scattered voices of encouragement—but the negativity lingered like a shadow, trailing her as she stepped off the arena floor.

The corridor leading back to the waiting room was dim and quiet, a stark contrast to the noise of the arena. Momo’s footsteps echoed softly against the floor, her grip on the bō staff loosening as she allowed it to dissipate into the air.

She replayed the match in her mind, analyzing every move, every decision. She had fought cleanly, efficiently, using her quirk to adapt to her opponent’s strengths and exploit their weaknesses. There was no question in her mind that her victory had been earned.

So why the boos?

The thought gnawed at her as she reached the waiting room door. Was it because she had defeated a crowd favorite? Or was it something else—something deeper?

The memories of her first Sports Festival surfaced unbidden, sharp and unrelenting. Losing to Tokoyami had cemented the perception that she wasn’t strong enough, that her quirk lacked the impact needed to stand out in one-on-one combat. And despite everything she had done to grow since then, the stigma had remained.

Even now, as a second-year student with countless hours of training and experience under her belt, it seemed that doubt still followed her.

Momo closed her eyes briefly, steadying her breathing. “It doesn’t matter,” she told herself, her voice a quiet whisper. “What matters is the fight. The strategy. The result.”

But even as she said it, a flicker of uncertainty lingered in the back of her mind, a quiet voice asking, 'Will it ever be enough?'

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The arena blared with the sound of the crowd as Momo once again stood victorious. Her opponent, now immobilized by a series of carefully crafted restraints, offered her a begrudging nod of respect before being escorted off the battlefield. Momo bowed politely in return, her face calm and composed as she maintained the professionalism expected of U.A.’s students.

But as she turned toward the exit, the sound from the crowd began to cut deeper into the edges of her consciousness.

The boos were louder this time.

They drowned out the scattered cheers that still tried to fight through the noise, forming an oppressive cacophony that followed her every step. The roars of disapproval stabbed into her mind, sharp and biting.

She didn’t need to hear the words to know what they were saying. It was written in the jeers, the muttered accusations, the venom behind their discontent:

"She doesn’t deserve this."

"Should've been eliminated a long while ago."

"She has to be cheating."

Momo kept her head high, but her heart began to falter. She could feel the weight of every disbelieving stare, every whispered slight, every harsh judgment piling onto her shoulders.

In her mind, she replayed the match—not a single move had been uncalculated or unfair. She had played to her strengths: adaptability, precision, strategy. She had countered her opponent’s raw strength with careful planning, using her quirk to create tools and traps that slowly wore them down.

But that wasn’t the spectacle the crowd craved. They wanted flashiness, dominance, overwhelming power. And if her victories didn’t fit into their narrow vision of what a winner should look like, then they would turn on her.

She gritted her teeth as she stepped into the corridor, her breathing steady but shallow. The sound of the boos still echoed in her mind, their disapproval eroding the fragile sense of pride she had felt moments ago.

She had won. She had fought with everything she had. But somehow, it still felt like she had lost.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

From his vantage point in the stands, Shouto watched the match - and its aftermath - unfold with a cold clarity. His mismatched eyes tracked Momo as she left the arena, her posture stiff but unbroken despite the crowd’s hostility.

He didn’t need to hear the accusations to understand what was happening. The biases against her were evident, even blatant. The Sports Festival’s format had always favored quirks that were straightforward and devastating in their application - Quirks like his own. But for someone like Momo, whose abilities required planning, adaptability, and quick thinking, the tournament wasn’t just a challenge - it was a constant uphill battle.

And the crowd didn’t care. They saw her tools and strategies, and instead of recognizing her brilliance, they dismissed it as trickery or unfairness.

He had noticed it after her previous match - the muttered accusations, the veiled skepticism from onlookers. But now, it had escalated into open hostility.

Shouto frowned, his thoughts drifting back to their shared history. He remembered the insecurities that had plagued her during their first year, the way she had questioned her worth and second-guessed her abilities. She had come so far since then, rebuilding herself piece by piece into the confident, capable person she was now.

And yet, the world seemed determined to tear her down again.

As he observed the crowd, his frustration deepened. The audience didn’t see what he saw. They didn’t see the brilliance in her adaptability, the precision in her choices, the strength it took to succeed in a system that was rigged against her.

But what frustrated him most of all was knowing that Momo likely internalized every single jeer, every single word of doubt.

His fingers tightened against the armrest of his seat as he resolved to do something about it.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

Momo sat silently on the bench in the waiting area, her hands folded neatly in her lap as she stared down at the tiled floor. Her chest rose and fell steadily, but the tightness in her lungs hadn’t eased since the match ended. The roar of the crowd outside was muffled by the walls, yet the muted cheers and applause still felt sharper than any blade.

She had lost. Again.

The familiar sting of defeat was sharper this time, digging into her chest and refusing to let go. Her fingers curled slightly as she clenched her hands together, the memory of stepping out of bounds replaying in her mind. She had been so close - every instinct, every calculation, every move had nearly lined up perfectly. But 'nearly' wasn’t enough.

Fifth place. The words echoed in her head, hollow and cold. She had wanted more this time - needed more. The goal hadn’t been about winning for glory or fame; it had been about proving, once and for all, that she belonged here. That her Quirk wasn’t weak. That she wasn’t just a privileged, pampered student who couldn’t hold her own.

The boos she had heard in her earlier matches lingered like a haunting melody, their disdain impossible to ignore. She could still hear them in her mind, their accusations as vivid as if they were still being yelled at her:

"Cheater."

"Fraud."

"Undeserving."

She exhaled slowly, forcing herself to loosen the tension in her shoulders. She had prepared herself for this - for failure, for doubt, for skepticism. And yet, as much as she tried to steady herself, she couldn’t deny the weight pressing down on her chest.

The voices of her classmates echoed faintly in her memory: their encouragement, their belief in her abilities. It was comforting, in a way, to know that they supported her. But it didn’t erase the pain of standing alone in the arena, facing a crowd that seemed determined to tear her down no matter how hard she fought.

'Was it because I’m not flashy enough?' she thought bitterly, her gaze falling to her watch. 'Because my Quirk isn’t something the crowd can understand at first glance? Or is it because they’ve already decided who I am, and nothing I do will change their minds?'

The door to the waiting room creaked open, and a staff member peeked inside. “Yaoyorozu, you’re free to go. The next match will start soon.”

Momo nodded, rising from the bench with a quiet grace that belied the storm inside her. She adjusted her sleeves, ensuring the lines of her uniform were crisp, and walked out with her head held high. The façade was important. Even if the crowd didn’t believe in her, even if she didn’t believe in herself at this moment, she had to appear strong.

As she made her way toward the dorms, the whispers of passing spectators followed her like shadows. She caught snippets here and there:

"She never stood a chance."

"Overrated."

"Didn’t deserve to make it this far anyway."

Her jaw tightened, but she didn’t break stride. The farther she walked from the stadium, the quieter the noise became, until all that remained was the sound of her own breathing.

Reaching the privacy of her dorm room, Momo finally allowed herself a moment to sit on the edge of her bed and let the weight of it all sink in.

Fifth place.

She could still hear Tokoyami’s voice, calm and respectful as he acknowledged her skill. She could still see the flash of surprise in his eyes during the match, the recognition that she had forced him to fight harder than he’d expected. Those moments should have mattered, but they felt small in the face of the overwhelming doubt surrounding her.

'Is this all I am?' she wondered, her shoulders slumping ever so slightly. 'A strategist? A support player? Someone who can push others to their limits but never cross the finish line herself?'

The thought made her chest tighten, but she shook her head fiercely, pushing the doubts away. No, she wouldn’t let this loss define her—not again. There was still so much to learn, so much to prove.

One day, they would see her - not as a failure, not as someone undeserving of her place, but as a hero in her own right.

And until then, she would keep fighting.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The dorms were quieter than usual, the aftermath of the Sports Festival casting a reflective calm over Class 2-A. Todoroki had come in first, barely however with Midoriya in second due to a moment of hesitation, Bakugou and Iida had tied for third, with Tokoyami coming in fourth and Yaoyorozu in fifth. Shouto sat at the end of one of the common room couches, his dark blue hoodie pulled over his shoulders as he gazed out the window. The faint hum of conversations drifted through the space, though he paid little attention to them. His thoughts were consumed by the image of Momo walking off the arena floor, her shoulders squared but her expression unreadable.

He heard seen the boos, the whispers. Felt the weight of the crowd’s judgment as they dismissed her victories and undermined her progress. And for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why.

Momo was brilliant. There was no question about it. Her quirk required meticulous precision, her strategies demanded quick thinking and adaptability. She was, without doubt, one of the most capable students in their class. But the public didn’t see that. They couldn’t - or refused - to understand the brilliance behind her abilities.

His lips pressed into a thin line as he remembered the disdainful murmurs from the crowd, the unfair accusations of cheating, the dismissal of her victories as mere luck or trickery. It wasn’t just ignorance; it was a systemic bias against heroes whose Quirks didn’t conform to the flashy, overpowering mold that the public idolized. And if the perception wasn’t addressed, it would follow her far beyond U.A.

“Todoroki?” Midoriya’s voice interrupted his thoughts, pulling him back to the present. The green-haired boy approached hesitantly, his notebook tucked under his arm. His bright eyes carried a mixture of curiosity and concern as he sat across from Shouto.

“You’ve been quiet since the Sports Festival ended,” Midoriya said softly, his voice thoughtful. “Is everything okay?”

Shouto glanced at him briefly before turning his gaze back to the window. “It’s not about me,” he said finally, his tone measured. “It’s about Yaoyorozu.”

Midoriya’s expression shifted to confusion. “Yaomomo? Why? She did amazing during the festival. She was strategic, composed, and she pushed Tokoyami further than anyone expected.”

“That’s the problem,” Shouto replied, his mismatched eyes locking onto Midoriya. “She did everything right, and they still dismissed her.”

Midoriya frowned, his brows furrowing. “What do you mean?”

Shouto exhaled slowly, his frustration barely concealed. “You’ve seen how the crowd reacts to her victories. They don’t believe she’s capable. They think she’s cheating or that she only gets as far as she does because she’s lucky - or privileged. They don’t understand her quirk, and instead of trying to, they write her off as undeserving.”

Midoriya opened his mouth to protest, but Shouto cut him off.

“You’re too optimistic to see it,” Shouto said bluntly. “But an undeserved poor reputation can prevent someone from helping others effectively as a Hero. Public perception matters, more then it should. And right now, the public doesn’t see Yaoyorozu for what she really is. It doesn’t matter how hard she works or how much she proves herself if no one is willing to give her the chance to.”

Midoriya’s expression shifted to guilt, his shoulders sagging slightly. “I never thought about it like that,” he admitted. “But Momo is amazing. Her Quirk- it’s incredible. She can create almost anything if she has the right knowledge, and she always uses it with such precision.”

“She’s one of the most capable people in our class,” Shouto said firmly. “But self-confidence means nothing in a system as corrupt as the hero industry if no one is willing to see her potential. She needs help finding someone who can guide her - someone who will recognize her value and help her dispel these false assumptions.”

Midoriya straightened, his resolve growing. “You’re right. We need to do something. If people can’t see how brilliant Momo is, then we have to show them.”

Shouto nodded, his expression softening slightly. “I thought you might say that. You’re the best person to help her, Midoriya. You analyze quirks better than anyone. If you can convince who you intern under to take her in, it could make all the difference.”

Midoriya hesitated for a moment, his mind racing. “I’ll do it,” he said finally, his voice filled with determination. “Momo deserves better, and if I can help her get there, I will.”

Shouto allowed himself a faint smile, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “She’ll need the support. Her Quirk is powerful, but she’s fighting against more than just her opponents. She’s fighting against the weight of public perception.”

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

Momo sat at her desk, her casual clothes neatly pressed as always, though she felt anything but composed. Her laptop screen showed yet another rejection email, the same phrasing repeated with disheartening consistency. Each polite refusal added weight to the burden she already carried - a sense that no matter how much she refined her skills, she would never escape the shadow of doubt cast over her abilities.

Her current options were painfully limited. The agencies that had accepted her request were either minor operations with little to offer in terms of growth or ones like Uwabami’s - places that valued her for superficial reasons rather than her abilities.

She sighed, closing her laptop and leaning back in her chair. The sting of the Sports Festival still lingered in her chest, though she did her best to push it aside. Fifth place wasn’t failure. But it wasn’t enough to silence the doubts, either.

A knock at her door pulled her from her thoughts, and before she could answer, it swung open to reveal Midoriya.

“Yaoyorozu!” he said, his voice bright with enthusiasm as he stepped inside. “I have an idea!”

Momo blinked, startled by his sudden entrance. “Midoriya, what-”

“I’m interning with Ryukyu,” he announced, cutting her off as he leaned against her desk. “And I think you should come with me.”

Momo frowned, her confusion deepening. “Midoriya, I appreciate the thought, but I don’t think Ryukyu is interested. I haven’t even-”

“She will be!” Midoriya said quickly, his green eyes practically glowing with determination. “She just doesn’t realize it yet. But I’ll make her see! Get into your hero costume."

She stared at him, taken aback. “What are you talking about? I-”

“Just trust me!” he insisted, a determined smile crossing his face. “You’ll understand soon. Please - your costume. Quickly!”

Momo hesitated but nodded, recognizing the urgency in his tone. She stood, smoothing the wrinkles from her casual clothes before heading to retrieve her hero costume. Within minutes, she returned, the crimson cape and intricate designs of her outfit a stark contrast to the casual image she’d cut moments ago.

“Good,” Midoriya said with a sharp nod. “Now, come with me.”

Before she could ask further questions, he grabbed her wrist - not aggressively, but with an insistence that didn’t allow for argument - and began leading her out the door.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The interior of Ryukyu’s agency was bustling, the open space alive with the chatter of heroes and staff coordinating patrols and missions. Midoriya stood near the front desk, his mechanical hero costume polished and adjusted to perfection. Beside him, Momo shifted slightly, the crimson cape of her hero costume brushing against her boots as she glanced around the room, her expression calm but slightly guarded.

Ryukyu stepped into view, her towering frame immediately commanding attention. Her golden scales shimmered faintly as she approached, a clipboard in hand and her sharp gaze sweeping over the two interns before settling on Midoriya. Her expression was neutral, though her presence carried an undeniable weight.

“Midoriya,” she greeted, her tone steady but clipped. “You’re earlier than expected.”

“Ryukyu,” Midoriya said, his voice firm but polite. “Thank you for taking the time to meet with us. I know your schedule is busy.”

She raised an eyebrow, her gaze flickering to Momo. “And you’ve brought someone with you?”

“Yes!” Midoriya said quickly, stepping slightly forward as he gestured to her. “This is Momo Yaoyorozu. She’s one of the most brilliant students in our class, and I believe she’d be an invaluable addition to your agency.”

Ryukyu tilted her head, her golden eyes narrowing slightly as she studied Momo. “Yaoyorozu, I’ve heard your name before,” she said, her tone thoughtful. “You’ve performed well in academics and team scenarios, but individual performance is... less straightforward. Why do you think my agency is the right fit for you?”

Momo straightened her posture, her voice steady as she replied. “It’s an honor to meet you, Ryukyu. I understand your hesitations, and I know my reputation may not align with my abilities. But I believe the values of your agency - teamwork, adaptability, and leadership - reflect the qualities I strive to embody as a hero. I would be grateful for the opportunity to learn and grow under your mentorship.”

Ryukyu’s gaze remained sharp, her expression unreadable as she considered Momo’s words. “It’s a bold statement,” she said finally. “But boldness alone isn’t enough. You’re asking me to invest time and resources into someone who may or may not fit the demands of this agency. What makes you think you’re worth that investment?”

Momo faltered slightly, her breath catching as the weight of the question settled over her. Before she could respond, Midoriya stepped forward again, his voice stronger this time.

“She is worth it,” he said firmly. “I know her reputation doesn’t reflect her true abilities, but I’ve seen firsthand what she can do. Her Quirk is powerful, her strategies are unmatched, and her dedication is unwavering. If you give her the chance, I promise you’ll see the same things I see.”

Ryukyu folded her arms, her expression softening slightly but remaining skeptical. “You’re passionate, Midoriya. But passion isn’t enough to sway me. If you truly believe in Yaoyorozu’s potential, then prove it to me.”

Ryukyu led them to a large training chamber within the agency, the space lined with advanced equipment and projections designed to simulate real-world scenarios. She gestured to the arena, her golden eyes fixed on Momo.

“Here’s your chance,” she said. “We’re going to simulate an emergency scenario,” Ryukyu explained, her voice steady as she addressed Momo. “There’s a ‘civilian’ trapped inside a collapsing structure. Your task is to rescue them and secure the area to prevent further casualties. You’ll also need to deal with obstacles as they arise. Time limit: five minutes.”

Momo nodded, her focus sharpening as she stepped forward. The simulation powered up, the room transforming into a chaotic scene resembling a disaster site. Holographic flames flickered across crumbling walls, debris littered the ground, and faint cries echoed from deeper within the simulation.

When the simulation powered down, Momo stood at the center of the hall, her chest rising and falling with steady breaths. The mannequin was safely secured, and the area was stabilized to prevent additional damage.

Ryukyu stepped forward, her golden eyes reflecting a faint hint of approval. “You’ve got a sharp mind, Yaoyorozu,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “You stayed composed under pressure, adapted to unforeseen obstacles, and executed your rescue efficiently. I see potential in you.”

Momo inclined her head respectfully, her heart swelling with quiet pride. “Thank you, Ryukyu,” she said sincerely.

Midoriya grinned beside her, his relief and excitement impossible to hide. Ryukyu glanced at him, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Your passion paid off, Midoriya. But remember - belief in someone is only the beginning. What matters most is how that belief translates into action.”

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The streets were busy with the hum of daily life, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the cityscape. Shouto walked alongside Best Jeanist, the older hero’s composed demeanor as steady as ever. Civilians turned their heads as the duo passed by, their expressions a mixture of admiration and curiosity. It wasn’t every day they saw the Number 1 Hero patrolling the streets, let alone with one of U.A.’s rising stars.

Shouto’s hero costume felt like an extension of himself now, the dark navy fabric and sleek utility belt perfectly adjusted for both functionality and comfort. The cooling and heating mechanisms within his gear kept his body in balance, though his mind was anything but.

As they walked, Shouto found his thoughts drifting, his focus slipping away from the patrol and back toward Momo. He hadn’t heard from her since the Sports Festival ended, though he knew she had been grappling with internship rejections. That alone was frustrating enough - seeing someone as capable as Momo overlooked for reasons that had nothing to do with her abilities was infuriating.

He frowned slightly, his mismatched eyes scanning the streets mechanically as his mind wandered further. Midoriya had been determined to help her, practically dragging her along to Ryukyu’s agency in a display of his relentless optimism. Shouto knew that if anyone could advocate for Momo’s potential, it was Midoriya. But still, doubt lingered.

'Did she take the opportunity? Did Ryukyu see what Midoriya saw? What I see?'

“Something on your mind, Todoroki?” Best Jeanist’s voice cut through his thoughts, calm yet sharp enough to command attention.

Shouto blinked, realizing too late that his distraction had been noticed. He straightened slightly, his usual stoic mask slipping back into place. “No, sir,” he replied evenly. “Just... thinking.”

Best Jeanist raised an eyebrow, his sharp eyes scanning Shouto as if reading every thought running through his mind. “A distracted hero is a vulnerable one,” he said, his tone measured. “Focus is paramount, even during routine patrols. Lives depend on it.”

“Yes, sir,” Shouto said quietly, though his mind remained stubbornly fixated on Momo.

Best Jeanist turned his attention back to the street, continuing his measured stride. “I see potential in you, Todoroki,” he said after a moment. “But potential alone is not enough. It must be refined, focused, and tempered. Tell me - are you taking full advantage of this internship, or is there something pulling your attention elsewhere?”

Shouto hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line. He respected Best Jeanist, not just for his skill and discipline but for his ability to read people with unsettling accuracy. After a pause, he decided to speak. “It’s... one of my classmates,” he admitted, his tone cautious. “She’s talented. Brilliant, even. But she doesn’t get the recognition she deserves.”

Best Jeanist’s gaze flicked toward him, his expression unreadable. “And this bothers you?”

“Yes,” Shouto said firmly. “Because it’s wrong. She’s overlooked, underestimated, and dismissed - not because of her abilities, but because of perception. It’s not fair.”

Best Jeanist hummed thoughtfully, his steps slowing slightly as they rounded a corner. “The hero industry is built on perception,” he said. “Public opinion shapes careers, influences opportunities, and creates barriers for those who don’t conform to expectations. But tell me, Todoroki - what do you intend to do about it?”

The question gave Shouto pause. He hadn’t fully considered the answer, though he knew one thing for certain: standing idly by wasn’t an option.

“She deserves a chance,” he said finally, his tone resolute. “And I’ll do whatever I can to make sure she gets it.”

Best Jeanist nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Good,” he said simply. “Now, let’s see if you can channel that resolve into action. Focus, Todoroki. If you want to change the system, it starts here - with you.”

Shouto straightened, his mind refocusing on the task at hand. The weight of Momo’s struggles didn’t disappear, but it settled into something quieter - something he could carry with him as motivation rather than distraction. The patrol continued, his steps measured and purposeful as the gears of his mind turned.

Change wouldn’t come easily, but Shouto was determined to see it through - for Momo, and for all the others overlooked by a system that demanded perfection without understanding it.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The air outside the Ryukyu Agency was crisp, carrying the faint scent of the ocean breeze as Momo stepped onto the busy sidewalk. Her boots clicked softly against the pavement, her crimson cape billowing slightly behind her. The internship had been grueling yet rewarding, pushing her quirk and her confidence in ways she hadn’t anticipated.

Beside her, Midoriya walked with an almost nervous energy, his mechanical hero costume glinting under the fading sunlight. Despite the exhaustion evident in his posture, his green eyes sparkled with satisfaction. He had worked just as hard, and perhaps even harder, to ensure her place here - and it hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Momo slowed her pace slightly, letting the weight of the day settle over her. She glanced down at Midoriya, the faint ache in her chest easing as she thought about how relentlessly he had advocated for her, how he had believed in her when others hadn’t.

“Midoriya,” she said softly, her voice carrying a warmth that contrasted with her usual serious tone. He looked up at her, startled by her use of his name.

“Huh? Yes, Yaoyorozu?” he asked, his tone slightly flustered as he adjusted the strap on his gauntlet.

She stopped walking, turning to face him fully. The height difference between them was immediately apparent, her 5'11 frame slightly towering over his barely-above-5'7 stature. But she didn’t care - none of that mattered right now.

Without another word, she bent slightly, crouching just enough to wrap her arms around him in a firm yet gentle hug. “Thank you,” she said simply, her voice filled with sincerity.

Midoriya froze, his entire body stiffening as the realization of the moment hit him. His face turned a deep shade of red, his thoughts racing as he tried - and failed - to form coherent words.

“Y-Yaoyorozu?! I- uh- you-” he stammered, his arms hovering awkwardly in the air as though he wasn’t sure what to do with them.

Momo chuckled softly, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. “I mean it,” she said, her dark eyes steady as they locked onto his. “You didn’t have to fight for me like you did, but you did anyway. And thanks to you, I had the chance to prove myself. I wouldn’t be here without you.”

Midoriya’s face grew impossibly redder, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to respond. “I-It was nothing! You deserved it! You’re amazing, Yaoyorozu, and I just- um - wanted to help!” he finally managed, his words tumbling over each other in a rush.

Momo straightened, her lips curving into a small, genuine smile. “Well, I’m grateful,” she said softly. “Truly.”

As they continued walking, Midoriya’s flustered state gradually began to ease, though his cheeks still carried a faint blush. Momo’s heart felt lighter, her steps steadier as she reflected on how far she had come - not just because of her own determination, but because of the support she had received.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The morning air was crisp as Shouto stood near the entrance of Best Jeanist’s agency, his hero costume impeccably tailored and perfectly adjusted for functionality. The city stretched out before him, its streets bustling with the energy of early commuters. He tightened the strap of his utility belt absentmindedly, his mismatched eyes briefly scanning the skyline before focusing on the task at hand.

He pulled out his phone, the smooth surface cold against his fingers as he dialed a familiar number. The device rang softly in his hand before Momo’s calm voice answered on the other end.

“Good morning, Todoroki,” she said, her tone measured but carrying a hint of warmth.

“Yaoyorozu,” he greeted, his voice steady. “I wanted to check in. How are you feeling after your first day at Ryukyu’s agency?”

There was a brief pause before she responded. “I’m doing well, thank you,” she said, her voice thoughtful. “It’s... challenging, but rewarding. Ryukyu has high expectations, but I appreciate the opportunity to learn from her.”

Shouto nodded, though she couldn’t see it. “That’s good to hear. I was thinking about you yesterday - about how the internship went.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, her tone sincere. “I’m grateful for your support, Todoroki. It means a lot.”

Before Shouto could respond, a familiar voice interrupted the conversation.

“Is that her?” Best Jeanist asked, his tone calm but inquisitive as he approached. He adjusted the neatly pressed denim collar of his suit, his sharp gaze settling on Shouto. “The classmate you mentioned yesterday?”

Shouto glanced at him briefly, his expression neutral. “Yes, sir,” he replied, covering the phone with his hand. “Momo Yaoyorozu.”

Best Jeanist hummed thoughtfully, his arms crossing as he observed Shouto with a discerning look. “The one you described as having exceptional abilities but an undeservedly poor reputation?”

“Yes,” Shouto said firmly. “She’s one of the most capable people in our class, but she’s overlooked and underestimated. She deserves more than what the system gives her.”

Best Jeanist raised an eyebrow, his sharp features betraying a faint hint of intrigue. “Interesting. And you care deeply about ensuring she receives the recognition she deserves.”

Shouto straightened slightly, his gaze unwavering. “I do. It’s not just about her - it’s about changing the way the system operates. If we continue to ignore the value of people like her, we lose more than we gain.”

Best Jeanist nodded, his lips curving into a faint smile. “A noble sentiment, Todoroki. Focus that resolve into your work here, and perhaps you’ll find the influence to make a difference.”

Shouto inclined his head, his mind already refocusing on the day ahead. He uncovered the phone, bringing it back to his ear. “I have to go now,” he told Momo. “But I’ll call again soon.”

“Of course,” she replied, her voice steady. “Take care, Todoroki.”

As Shouto ended the call and slipped the phone into his pocket, he felt a quiet sense of determination settle over him. The patrol was about to begin, but his thoughts remained focused - not on his distractions, but on his purpose. For Momo, for himself, and for the change the hero world so desperately needed.

Chapter Text

The evening air carried a sense of calm, the sun dipping low on the horizon as Midoriya, Momo, and Ryukyu walked back to the agency. The city streets were quieter now, the earlier commotion of their operation against a villain gang giving way to the usual hum of urban life. Midoriya’s body ached slightly from the effort, but he couldn’t help the buzz of accomplishment in his chest. Another mission handled, another set of lives kept safe.

Beside him, Momo walked with her usual poise, the crimson cape of her hero costume swaying lightly as they moved. Ryukyu led a few steps ahead, her commanding presence cutting an impressive figure even at rest. Midoriya adjusted his gauntlets absentmindedly, glancing at Momo.

“You were incredible out there, Creati,” he said, his voice bright with sincerity. “The traps you set up and that barricade - it was perfect timing. I don’t think we could’ve contained the gang so quickly without you.”

Momo tilted her head slightly, offering him a small but genuine smile. “Thank you, Deku,” she said warmly. “I’m glad I could be of help. Though, I suspect the press will once again focus on you and Ryukyu.”

Midoriya flushed, waving his hands in front of him. “That’s not fair! You did just as much - no, even more than I did! You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

Momo chuckled softly, the sound light but tinged with a trace of resignation. “I’ve grown used to it,” she said, her gaze thoughtful. “But there is something I’ve been meaning to ask.”

Midoriya perked up, tilting his head curiously. “What’s on your mind?”

Momo glanced down at her hands, her brows knitting slightly. “It’s about gloves,” she began. “My bō staffs have served me well, but there are rare moments - usually in intense combat - where my grip on them slips. I’ve been thinking that a specialized pair of gloves might help address that.”

Midoriya’s eyes lit up, and his analytical brain immediately shifted into overdrive. “Gloves! That’s a brilliant idea, Yaoyorozu. Have you thought about the material? Maybe something with enhanced grip texture? Or a hybrid material - lightweight but durable.”

Momo nodded, her own excitement building as she responded. “Exactly. I was thinking of synthetic materials that could provide additional friction without compromising flexibility. But we’d also need to consider how they’d perform under different conditions - heat, moisture, or prolonged use.”

“Oh, absolutely!” Midoriya said quickly, his green eyes sparkling. “If they get too rigid in cold temperatures or lose traction when wet, that would be a problem. Maybe we could test variants of silicone composites or a breathable polymer with microtexture for grip?”

Momo’s lips quirked into a smile, and she tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Silicone could work, but we’d need to ensure it doesn’t tear or degrade under stress. And I was considering reinforcement patches at critical points - like the palms and fingers - to distribute pressure evenly.”

Midoriya clapped his hands together in excitement, pulling out his notebook seemingly from nowhere. “Yes! Reinforcements would be key! And if we could integrate a lightweight mesh structure for breathability... Oh, and we could do durability tests for wear and tear. Maybe simulate combat grips by replicating movements over a thousand cycles.”

Momo laughed softly, her composure melting into genuine amusement. “Deku, we’re discussing gloves, not a full-scale research project.”

He froze for a moment, his pen hovering mid-scribble, and his cheeks turned pink. “O-Oh, right. Sorry, I got carried away.”

“No need to apologize,” Momo said, her tone warm. “It’s endearing.”

Midoriya’s face turned a deeper shade of red as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “W-Well, I just think it’s important to get every detail right. If we’re going to improve your gear, it should be the best it can possibly be.”

“I appreciate that,” Momo said, her smile lingering. “You’ve given me a lot to consider.”

As they continued down the street, their conversation flowed seamlessly into materials science, testing methods, and hypothetical designs, their shared enthusiasm creating a lighthearted and almost comical energy between them. Ryukyu glanced back briefly, raising an eyebrow but saying nothing, her faint smile betraying her amusement at the duo’s chemistry.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The agency’s break room was a peaceful contrast to the chaos of hero work, the hum of the microwave blending with the low chatter of staff grabbing quick meals between assignments. Midoriya sat at one of the tables, his notebook open and filled with diagrams and notes about materials and glove designs. His gauntlets rested neatly beside him, their mechanical complexity glinting faintly under the fluorescent lights.

Across the table, Momo was surrounded by an assortment of supplies - fabric, thread, scissors, and a stack of sketches she had drawn to outline the design. She had purchased everything with her own funds, determined to avoid using her Quirk for economic reasons. Despite the mess of materials around her, her movements were methodical, each stitch precise as she began sewing the first prototype by hand.

Midoriya looked up from his notebook, his eyes flicking to the untouched plate of food next to Momo. He frowned slightly, his worry bubbling up before he could stop it. “Yaoyorozu,” he said, his voice gentle but insistent, “you haven’t eaten anything yet.”

Momo didn’t look up, her focus entirely on the thread she was guiding through the fabric. “I will,” she said absentmindedly. “I just want to finish this section first.”

Midoriya sighed, setting his pen down as he leaned slightly forward. “I know you’re focused, but you need to eat. You won’t be able to concentrate if you’re running on empty.”

Momo paused, her needle hovering mid-stitch as she glanced at him. The concern in his eyes was impossible to ignore, and she sighed softly. “You’re right,” she admitted, setting the needle aside and picking up the plate. “Thank you for reminding me.”

Midoriya smiled, his worry easing slightly as she began eating. He returned to his notes, scribbling something down before pointing to one of the sketches. “I was thinking,” he said, his enthusiasm lighting up his voice. “If we reinforced the fingertips with a textured silicone, it could improve grip during high-speed maneuvers. And if we integrate a breathable mesh on the back of the hand, it would prevent overheating during extended combat.”

Momo nodded, her interest piqued as she swallowed a bite of her meal. “That’s a good idea,” she said thoughtfully. “Though we’d need to test the flexibility of the silicone to ensure it doesn’t hinder movement. And the mesh would need to be lightweight but durable enough to withstand wear and tear.”

“Exactly!” Midoriya said, his notebook flipping open to a fresh page as he began sketching adjustments to the design. “We could run stress tests on the prototypes to simulate combat conditions—maybe create weighted versions to see how they handle impact.”

Momo chuckled softly, her gaze flickering between his sketches and the glove taking shape in her hands. “You’re very thorough, Midoriya,” she said, her tone warm but teasing. “Sometimes, I wonder how you fit so many ideas into one notebook.”

Midoriya flushed slightly, scratching the back of his neck. “W-Well, I just think it’s important to cover every detail. Equipment is a huge part of hero work, and your gloves - if we get them right - could make a real difference.”

Her smile lingered as she resumed sewing, her movements calm and precise. “ I appreciate your input,” she said sincerely. “It’s nice to have someone to brainstorm with.”

As the hours passed, their collaboration became a steady rhythm - a blend of creative ideas and shared enthusiasm that filled the room with lighthearted energy. Momo’s sewing skills proved exceptional, her hands moving with practiced efficiency as each glove took shape. Midoriya’s notes piled higher, his mind racing with every possible test and adjustment they could implement.

When Momo finished the first prototype, she held it up for inspection, her dark eyes glinting with satisfaction. “What do you think?” she asked, offering the glove to Midoriya.

He took it carefully, his expression thoughtful as he turned it over in his hands. “It’s incredible,” he said, his voice filled with admiration. “The stitching is flawless, and the materials feel durable but flexible. You did an amazing job, Yaoyorozu.”

She flushed faintly at the praise, her lips curving into a small, genuine smile. “Thank you,” she said softly.

Later that evening, the gloves were put through their first round of tests in the training area at the dorms. Momo and Midoriya worked together, evaluating the grip, flexibility, and durability under simulated combat conditions. Every adjustment brought them closer to perfection, their shared enthusiasm keeping them energized despite the late hour.

By the end of the night, Momo felt a quiet sense of pride settle over her. The gloves were more than just tools - they were a symbol of her growth and the support she had found in her classmates. She glanced at Midoriya, who was busy scribbling more notes, his determination as unwavering as ever.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice carrying a warmth that made him pause and look up. “For everything.”

Midoriya smiled, his cheeks flushing faintly as he scratched the back of his neck. “It’s nothing,” he said shyly. “I just wanted to help.”

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The dorm room floor was a chaotic array of fabric scraps, spools of thread, and sheets of diagrams and notes, all evidence of the hours of work that had gone into the project. Midoriya sat cross-legged on the floor, his notebook balanced precariously on his knee as he scribbled furiously, muttering half-formed thoughts under his breath. Beside him, Momo adjusted the cuffs on the newly finished gloves, her meticulous gaze scanning every detail of the final product.

“These are... incredible,” Midoriya said, pausing to inspect one of the gloves. “The silicone reinforcement at the fingertips turned out perfectly. And the addition of the microtextured palm grip - it’s exactly what we needed to improve control without sacrificing flexibility!”

Momo smiled softly, sliding one of the gloves onto her hand and flexing her fingers experimentally. “The adjustments to the breathable mesh on the back were an excellent idea as well,” she said. “It feels lightweight, but it provides enough ventilation to prevent overheating during extended use.”

Midoriya’s eyes lit up as he leaned closer. “Right! And the silicone's durability - did you see how it held up in the impact tests? It hardly showed any wear, even after simulating high-stress conditions!”

Momo nodded, her enthusiasm evident as she adjusted the fit around her wrist. “And the reinforcement patches on the pressure points - they distribute force evenly without compromising the glove’s structure. I think we’ve addressed every issue we could identify.”

Midoriya clutched his notebook to his chest, grinning from ear to ear. “I can’t believe it! This is going to make such a difference during combat. I mean, these gloves are like a perfect balance between form and function!”

Momo chuckled, her gaze softening as she looked at him. “Your input was invaluable, Midoriya. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Midoriya’s cheeks flushed bright red, and he waved his hands awkwardly. “N-No, no! You did most of the work - I just threw in some ideas!”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Momo replied warmly. “You have a brilliant mind, and I’m grateful we could collaborate on this.”

As they admired the gloves, the room filled with a quiet sense of accomplishment, their shared passion for hero work shining through every detail of their creation. It was a moment of triumph - not just for the gloves, but for their teamwork and the trust they had built in one another.

The sun was just beginning to climb in the sky as Midoriya and Momo followed Ryukyu through the bustling streets of the city. The sounds of morning traffic mingled with the chatter of pedestrians, creating a lively atmosphere that contrasted with the relative stillness of the early hour. Midoriya’s hero costume gleamed faintly, its mechanisms whirring quietly as he adjusted his gauntlets. Beside him, Momo walked with her usual poise, the new gloves she had created with Midoriya fitting seamlessly with her hero costume.

“How do they feel?” Midoriya asked, glancing at her with a hint of nervous excitement.

Momo flexed her fingers, her expression thoughtful. “They’re perfect,” she said, her voice calm but carrying an undercurrent of pride. “The grip is much more secure, and the flexibility makes them feel like a natural extension of my movements.”

Midoriya beamed, his chest swelling with pride. “I’m so glad! I can’t wait to see how they perform in the field.”

Ryukyu, who had been listening quietly, turned her head slightly, her golden eyes glinting with approval. “You two make a good team,” she said simply. “It’s rare to see such dedication to improving equipment - it’s a mark of true professionalism.”

Midoriya and Momo exchanged a glance, their faces lighting up with shared satisfaction at Ryukyu’s words. As they continued their patrol, the city’s energy pulsed around them, the promise of a new day carrying with it the opportunities and challenges that defined their journey as heroes.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The patrol had been uneventful so far, the city moving at its usual rhythm under the mid-morning sun. Momo walked beside Midoriya, her crimson cape lightly brushing against her boots as she moved. Ryukyu walked a few paces ahead, her calm but alert demeanor a reminder that peace in their line of work was often fleeting.

Just as they rounded a quiet street corner, a sharp explosion erupted in the distance, shaking the ground beneath their feet. The sound shattered the stillness, sending a ripple of panic through the streets as civilians screamed and scattered. Ryukyu’s comm device buzzed loudly, her golden eyes narrowing as she answered the call.

“Multiple high-value locations have been targeted simultaneously across the city,” Ryukyu relayed, her voice steady despite the urgency. “It’s a coordinated attack. Civilians are being held hostage at each site, and the villains are demanding negotiations.”

Momo’s heart clenched, her mind already racing. Coordinated attacks meant divided resources, and villains taking hostages meant time was of the essence. Ryukyu turned back to them, her gaze sharp.

“We’ll take one of the sites,” Ryukyu instructed. “The others are being handled by nearby heroes, but we’re moving now. Stay ready.”

The building they arrived at was a sleek, multi-level office structure, its glass facade cracked and darkened by smoke from the earlier explosion. Civilians were visible through the shattered windows, their hands raised as masked villains barked commands. The air was tense, every moment stretched thin by the weight of what was at stake.

Ryukyu transformed into her dragon form, her imposing figure crouched low as she prepared to breach. Momo scanned the area, her watch blinking as she assessed the entrances and windows. The villains had barricaded key points and set traps, and a direct assault would endanger the hostages.

Midoriya stepped up beside her, his green eyes flicking from the building to Momo. “What do you think, Creati?” he asked, his tone urgent. “We need a plan.”

Momo’s heart pounded, but she took a deep breath to steady herself. This wasn’t the time for hesitation - this was her moment to lead. “We can’t go in directly,” she said firmly. “It’s too risky for the hostages. We need to create distractions to draw the villains’ focus while securing escape routes for the civilians.”

Ryukyu turned her massive head toward Momo, her golden eyes gleaming. “What’s the plan?” she asked simply.

Momo directed Midoriya to create a diversion at the north side of the building, using his Quirk to draw the villains’ attention while avoiding direct confrontation. Ryukyu would take the south side, her dragon form creating enough of a presence to force the villains to split their focus.

Meanwhile, Momo activated her Quirk, generating compact tools to disable the barricades and traps from a hidden vantage point. Her gloves proved invaluable, giving her the grip and control she needed as she maneuvered through the debris with precision.

As the villains turned their attention to the diversions, Momo moved quickly, creating smoke canisters to obscure the civilians as she guided them toward the exits. Her calm, clear instructions reassured the hostages, her strategic mind anticipating every possible complication.

When the villains realized what was happening, it was too late. Midoriya’s distraction had destabilized their formation, and Ryukyu’s presence had kept them from regrouping effectively. By the time they tried to counter, the civilians were already outside and in the care of emergency responders.

As the villains were restrained and the hostages secured, the crowd that had gathered erupted in applause. Momo stood at the center of the scene, her crimson cape slightly torn but her posture tall and steady. Midoriya jogged over, his face lighting up with pride.

“That was incredible, Creati,” he said, his voice filled with admiration. “Your plan worked perfectly.”

Ryukyu approached, her dragon form returning to human as she placed a hand on Momo’s shoulder. “You led with precision and control,” she said, her tone firm but approving. “Great work."

Momo allowed herself a small smile, her heart swelling with pride as the weight of doubt began to lift. For the first time, she felt as though the world was seeing her for who she truly was—not just a strategist, but a leader, a hero.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The morning sunlight filtered through the large agency windows, painting streaks of gold across the room as Momo sat at one of the communal tables, a steaming cup of tea resting between her hands. The faint sound of a news broadcast buzzed in the background, accompanied by the rustling of newspapers as the agency staff caught up on the latest headlines.

Momo tried to focus on the warmth of her tea, the herbal aroma meant to soothe her nerves. But her attention was inevitably pulled to the television screen hanging in the corner, where a reporter stood in front of the site of yesterday’s mission.

“Yesterday’s daring rescue was led by the illustrious Ryukyu,” the reporter said, her voice bright and animated. “With the assistance of U.A.’s rising star, Izuku Midoriya. Together, they coordinated a successful response, ensuring the safety of all hostages and apprehending the villains behind the attack.”

The footage shifted to show Ryukyu in her dragon form, then Midoriya sprinting into action in his mechanical hero costume. Finally, there was a brief clip of Momo, her voice commanding as she directed the team. It was only a few seconds, but it stood out - a stark contrast to the longer segments dedicated to Ryukyu and Midoriya.

“Yaoyorozu’s role was critical in securing the hostages’ escape,” the reporter added, almost as an afterthought before moving on to interview a civilian who praised Ryukyu’s leadership and Midoriya’s courage.

Momo’s chest tightened as she turned her gaze away from the screen, her tea forgotten. She understood how the media worked, how they gravitated toward the most recognizable faces and larger-than-life personas. But even with the recognition she’d received - more than usual - it still felt like she was being overshadowed.

She glanced at the stack of newspapers on the table, her eyes scanning the headlines. Most focused on Ryukyu’s strength or Midoriya’s quick thinking, with only a few mentions of her name buried deep in the articles. Still, it was an improvement from her earlier experiences - an acknowledgment, however fleeting, that she had contributed.

Midoriya walked into the room, his green hair slightly tousled as he carried his own cup of coffee. He noticed her immediately, his expression brightening as he approached.

“Good morning, Yaoyorozu,” he said cheerfully. “Did you see the coverage?”

Momo nodded, offering him a small smile. “I did.”

“You were amazing,” Midoriya said earnestly, pulling out a chair to sit across from her. “Everyone saw how you led the mission. I mean, Ryukyu even said you were the key to the operation! That’s huge!”

Momo’s smile widened slightly, her heart warming at his words. “Thank you, Midoriya. That means a lot.”

Midoriya tilted his head, his sharp eyes catching the faint flicker of doubt in her expression. “But?” he prompted gently.

Momo hesitated, swirling her tea as she considered her response. “It’s not that I’m ungrateful,” she began carefully. “I’m truly honored to have been part of such an important mission. And I appreciate the recognition I’ve received—it’s more than I’ve had before. But... it’s hard not to notice how easily I’m overshadowed.”

Midoriya’s brows furrowed, his expression thoughtful. “I get that,” he said quietly. “I know how frustrating it must feel to work so hard and still not get the acknowledgment you deserve.”

Momo sighed softly, her gaze falling to her gloves. “It’s not about fame or glory. I just... I want people to see what I can do, to understand that I’m capable. Not because I want validation, but because I want to make a difference. And sometimes, it feels like the world isn’t ready to see that.”

Midoriya leaned forward, his voice steady and resolute. “They will, Yaoyorozu. They’re starting to see it now, even if it’s not as much as they should. And you’re proving it every single day—with every mission, every decision, every step forward. Don’t let the spotlight define your worth. Your actions already speak louder than anything the press could say.”

Momo looked at him, her heart swelling with gratitude. “Thank you, Midoriya,” she said softly. “I needed to hear that.”

He smiled, his expression bright and genuine. “We’re all in this together, right? And hey, if they don’t recognize how amazing you are yet, we’ll just keep reminding them until they do.”

Momo laughed lightly, her earlier tension easing as she returned her focus to her tea. The press might not have given her the spotlight she deserved, but she realized now that true recognition wasn’t about headlines or accolades. It was about the trust and respect of those who fought alongside her - and she couldn’t ask for more than that.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The days blurred together in a whirlwind of activity, each morning bringing a new challenge that demanded all her focus and resolve. Momo barely noticed the sun rising and setting outside the agency’s windows, her world narrowed to the missions that awaited them.

Early in the week, it was the electromagnetic pulses wreaking havoc on the city’s communications. Momo’s hands trembled slightly as she assembled makeshift network routers under pressure, her gloves giving her the dexterity and grip she needed. She coordinated rescue teams with calm precision, the tension in the air lifting as her plans brought order to chaos. Though the media gave more attention to Ryukyu’s and Midoriya’s visible acts, she was beginning to notice subtle shifts - a few headlines highlighting her efforts, a quiet recognition in the eyes of her peers.

Midweek, she found herself staring down the quirk amplifier - a terrifying device that had thrown the city into turmoil by amplifying quirks beyond control. With Midoriya backing her up and Ryukyu keeping the environment secure, Momo’s mind raced as she analyzed the device. Every tool she created felt like a piece of a puzzle clicking into place. When the device was neutralized, her breath caught in her chest as she realized the press had included her name, even if briefly, in their reports.

But it wasn’t until the hydroelectric plant operation later in the week that she truly felt the tide beginning to shift. As she commanded the defense and crafted non-lethal traps to stop the extremist group without damaging the delicate systems, Momo felt herself slipping into a rhythm - a flow that carried her from one decision to the next with unwavering confidence. When the mission concluded, civilians and heroes alike looked at her with admiration, and even the press seemed to stumble over themselves to capture her contributions accurately.

The next day brought the incendiary device crisis. As explosions triggered panic across the city, Momo’s gloves gripped tightly on her bō staff as she directed evacuation routes and built protective barriers. With every choice, she could feel the gap between doubt and trust narrowing. By the time the fires were extinguished, she was no longer just a supporting figure - she had become a critical part of the narrative, a leader who couldn’t be ignored.

Her thoughts turned to the containment breach mission that closed out the week, the chaos of villains pouring into the streets. The sound of her voice, sharp and steady as she issued commands, echoed in her memory. Every action—from crafting restraints to fortifying the perimeter - felt like another step toward proving herself. And as the media swarmed afterward, the weight of the doubt she had carried for so long finally began to lift. This time, her name was in the headlines.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

As Momo sat at the agency’s break room table that evening, tea in her hands, she allowed herself a moment to breathe. The exhaustion was there, but so was the quiet pride that had begun to replace her self-doubt. The missions had tested her like never before, but she had risen to meet every challenge. And for the first time, she felt as though the world was truly beginning to see her for who she was.

Midoriya entered the room, his ever-present notebook tucked under his arm and a smile lighting up his face. “I saw the reports,” he said, his voice full of excitement. “You’re everywhere, Yaoyorozu. Everyone’s finally starting to see what we’ve always known - you’re incredible.”

Momo chuckled softly, warmth spreading through her chest as she looked at him. “Thank you, Midoriya,” she said simply. “It’s been a long time coming.”

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The sound of simulated debris collapsing filled the training grounds, and Shouto watched from a distance as Yaoyorozu completed her scenario. Her movements were deliberate, her quirk flickering to life as she created steel beams to stabilize the structure before guiding the holographic civilians out to safety. She seemed composed, but there was an intensity in her expression—one that hinted at how much she had riding on this.

Aizawa-Sensei stood at the edge of the simulation, his arms crossed and his capture scarf lightly brushing against the ground. His sharp gaze followed Yaoyorozu’s every move, though his expression gave little away.

When the scenario ended, Yaoyorozu approached him, her breath steady despite the obvious effort she’d exerted. “Aizawa-Sensei,” she said, her voice even, “how did I perform?”

Shouto watched as Aizawa-Sensei’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer. “You’re efficient,” he said finally, his tone neutral. “You’ve shown improvement in both adaptability and execution. But... I wonder if you’re relying too much on calculated decisions. What happens when instinct has to take over? When there’s no time to plan?”

Yaoyorozu didn’t flinch, though Shouto noticed the faint tightening of her jaw. “I’ve encountered situations like that before, Aizawa-Sensei,” she said carefully. “I believe I’ve demonstrated my ability to act under pressure.”

Aizawa-Sensei nodded slightly, though his gaze remained skeptical. “You’ve made progress, Yaoyorozu. I won’t deny that. But the hero world doesn’t wait for calculations. Keep pushing yourself.”

Shouto felt his chest tighten as Yaoyorozu thanked him and began walking away, her posture as poised as ever. He moved to join her, falling into step beside her. “You handled that well,” he said quietly.

She glanced at him, her lips curving into a faint smile. “It’s not about handling feedback,” she said. “It’s about proving it unnecessary.”

Shouto nodded, his respect for her growing with every word.

Shouto wasn’t sure why he had stopped in the hallway. He had been walking toward the simulation rooms when he caught a glimpse of Yaoyorozu entering one of the administrative offices. Something about her expression as she entered - focused, yet determined - made him pause.

He stood outside the door for a moment, his ears catching snippets of the conversation inside.

“All Might-Sensei,” Yaoyorozu began, her voice measured, “I wanted to reflect on my internship and discuss how I can continue to grow.”

All Might-Sensei responded warmly, though his tone carried a familiar weight. “You did exceptionally well, Yaoyorozu. Ryukyu herself spoke highly of your leadership and ingenuity. But... I worry you place too much pressure on yourself. There’s a difference between striving for excellence and pushing yourself to your limits.”

Yaoyorozu’s response was quick, but thoughtful. “Pressure is inherent to hero work, isn’t it? It’s something I’ve learned to navigate.”

Shouto tilted his head, curious to hear All Might-Sensei’s reply. “True,” he said after a pause. “But heroes also need to trust in their readiness. You have extraordinary potential, but potential isn’t readiness.”

“I see,” Yaoyorozu said evenly. “Then it’s my responsibility to prove that I’m ready.”

Shouto’s lips quirked into a faint smile at her response. She wasn’t defensive - she was resolute, prepared to rise to any expectation. Even as All Might-Sensei chuckled softly, acknowledging her determination, Shouto could hear the quiet pride in Yaoyorozu’s voice.

When she left the room, Shouto caught her eye briefly. “If All Might-Sensei has doubts, it’s only because he hasn’t seen everything you’re capable of yet,” he said, his tone steady.

She nodded, her lips curving into the smallest of smiles.

Chapter Text

The moon hung high over U.A., its soft glow filtering through the windows of the training simulation room. Momo adjusted the straps of her gloves, her fingers aching slightly from hours of practice. The room was silent except for the faint hum of the simulation mechanisms, the sound blending with the rhythmic clatter of her bō staff against the holographic targets.

Two months had passed since the internships ended, and Momo hadn’t stopped working since. Late nights in the simulation rooms had become her norm, every spare moment devoted to refining her skills, honing her precision, and crafting scenarios that tested the limits of her Quirk. She couldn’t let herself rest - not when she still felt the weight of every doubt, every expectation placed on her shoulders.

Her movements slowed briefly, her breath catching in her throat as a wave of dizziness washed over her. She steadied herself, leaning on the bō staff as she took a few deep breaths. 'Just a moment,' she thought. 'I can’t afford to stop now.'

The next morning, Momo stood at her usual spot in class, her posture as perfect as ever, her expression calm and composed. The faint ache in her temples was easy enough to ignore, and she masked the heaviness in her limbs with practiced poise. No one seemed to notice - not her teachers, not her classmates.

If anything, her quiet determination had drawn admiration from those around her. Bakugou and Kirishima were arguing about something by the window, Midoriya was scribbling notes furiously, and Todoroki was observing the class quietly, as he often did. But none of them seemed to register the faint pallor in her complexion or the tiredness in her eyes.

She tuned into Aizawa-Sensei’s lecture, her focus unwavering even as her body seemed to protest every movement. The tea she’d sipped earlier had done little to settle her stomach, and the sudden burst of fatigue made her grip on her pen falter slightly. But she caught herself immediately, straightening her posture.

The cycle continued - training late into the night, struggling with the growing dizziness and headaches, yet waking every morning to face class with a quiet smile and unyielding determination. Even when her throat burned and her skin felt colder than usual, she pushed through, unwilling to let her self-imposed standards falter.

One evening, as she left the simulation room long past curfew, her steps slowed involuntarily. Her body felt heavier than ever, and she stumbled slightly, catching herself against the wall. She exhaled softly, brushing back the loose strands of hair that clung to her damp forehead.

'No one can know,' she thought, the resolve in her chest stronger than the ache that coursed through her. 'Not Aizawa-Sensei. Not All Might-Sensei. Not even Todoroki or Sero.'

For Momo, her strength had to appear infallible, even if it came at the cost of her health.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The sun was high in the sky as Class 2-A assembled at the training grounds, their hero costumes gleaming under the afternoon light. Momo adjusted her gloves, the final design she and Midoriya had perfected now feeling like an extension of herself. She tightened her grip on her bō staff, her mind already analyzing the scenario ahead.

Aizawa-Sensei stood at the front of the group, his usual calm yet sharp demeanor setting the tone for the day. “Today’s exercise,” he began, his voice carrying over the sound of the wind, “will focus on team dynamics and individual adaptability. You’ll be divided into groups and tasked with responding to a simulated crisis. Remember: coordination is key, and efficiency can make the difference between success and failure.”

Momo’s chest tightened slightly, though she kept her expression calm. She felt the familiar weight of expectation pressing down on her, but she couldn’t afford to let it distract her. She was here to prove herself - not just to her classmates or Aizawa-Sensei, but to herself.

The simulation began, and the training grounds transformed into a chaotic cityscape. Smoke billowed from holographic buildings, and holographic civilians screamed for help as obstacles emerged in their path. Momo’s team moved quickly, each member utilizing their quirks to address different aspects of the scenario.

“Yaoyorozu!” Midoriya called, his voice urgent as he cleared debris from a simulated road. “We need reinforcements on the east quadrant - the structures are collapsing too fast!”

Momo nodded sharply, activating her Quirk to create reinforced beams. She directed her teammates, her voice steady as she coordinated their efforts. She moved fluidly, making the necessary beams and tools needed to stabilize the crumbling structures with her Quirk.

Her body ached as the simulation progressed, each movement sending waves of fatigue coursing through her. But she ignored it, pushing forward with unwavering determination. She couldn’t let anyone notice - not her classmates, not Aizawa-Sensei, and certainly not Todoroki, who had been quietly observing her during the exercise.

As the last civilian was evacuated and the simulation powered down, Momo straightened her posture, her breathing measured despite the burning sensation in her chest. She wiped her brow discreetly, hiding the sheen of sweat that threatened to give away her exhaustion.

Aizawa-Sensei approached the group, his expression unreadable as he surveyed their performance. “Not bad,” he said evenly, though his gaze lingered on Momo for a moment longer than usual. “You’ve improved.”

Momo’s heart swelled briefly with relief, though her body felt heavier than ever. She nodded respectfully, her voice steady. “Thank you, Aizawa-Sensei.”

The class began dispersing, their voices filling the air as they recounted the details of the training exercise. Shouto adjusted his gloves, his mismatched eyes scanning the group instinctively. He had kept an eye on Yaoyorozu during the simulation, noticing the precision in her actions and the slight falter in her movements that she masked so well.

As he moved toward her, intending to compliment her performance, he saw her stumble slightly. It was brief - so brief that most of their classmates didn’t notice - but Shouto’s gaze sharpened immediately. She swayed again, her bō staff slipping from her grip, and before he could call her name, she collapsed to the ground.

“Yaoyorozu!” Shouto’s voice cut through the chatter as he rushed to her side, his heart pounding. He dropped to his knees, his hands hovering uncertainly over her, unsure of whether to move her or wait for help.

Aizawa-Sensei appeared within seconds, his capture scarf coiling around him as his sharp gaze took in the scene. “She’s overworked herself,” he said grimly, crouching beside Shouto. “Todoroki, help me get her to Recovery Girl. The rest of you, dismiss.”

Shouto nodded, his hands steady as he helped lift Yaoyorozu carefully. Her complexion was pale, her breathing shallow, and his chest tightened with an unfamiliar sense of worry. He followed Aizawa-Sensei toward the infirmary, his steps measured yet urgent.

As they walked, Shouto’s mind raced. He had known she was pushing herself - had admired her determination - but seeing her like this made him realize just how much she had been hiding. 'Why didn’t she say anything?' he thought. 'Why didn’t anyone notice? Why didn't I notice..?'

When they reached Recovery Girl’s office, Shouto stepped back as the elderly hero took over, her kind yet firm presence reassuring him. He lingered outside the room, his hands clenched into fists as he resolved to do something - not just to help her recover, but to ensure she never felt the need to hide her struggles again.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

Shouto sat in one of the chairs just outside Recovery Girl’s office, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at the ground. His mismatched eyes flicked toward the door occasionally, as though he might catch a glimpse of movement within. But the infirmary was quiet, the only sound the faint humming of the heater keeping the room warm.

Recovery Girl had been direct with him. “She’s pushed herself too far,” she’d said after examining Momo. “Her stamina’s depleted, and she’s fighting a fever. She needs rest more than anything right now - medicine will only help once she’s awake.”

Shouto clenched his fists briefly, the memory of Momo collapsing in the training grounds replaying in his mind. She had been hiding it - he was sure of that now. Her calm composure, her flawless movements, her poised demeanor in class - it had all been a mask. She was sick, exhausted, and yet she had pushed herself beyond her limits.

He exhaled slowly, trying to release the tension in his chest. Part of him felt frustrated - frustrated that she hadn’t told anyone, frustrated that none of them had noticed sooner. But another part of him felt a quiet admiration for her resilience. She was determined to prove herself, even at the cost of her own well-being.

The door to Recovery Girl’s office opened slightly, and the elderly hero stepped out, her kind eyes scanning Shouto briefly. “She’s stable,” Recovery Girl said softly. “But she’s going to need a few days to recover fully. You can see her once she wakes.”

Shouto nodded, his expression unreadable as he stood. “Thank you,” he said simply.

The room smelled faintly of antiseptic, the air warmer than the rest of the hallway as Shouto stepped inside. Momo lay on the infirmary bed, her face pale and her breathing slow but steady. The blankets were pulled up to her shoulders, her hair neatly brushed back as if Recovery Girl had taken extra care to ensure she was comfortable.

Shouto pulled the chair closer to the bed, lowering himself into it as he studied her quietly. She looked fragile in this moment - so different from the confident, composed figure she presented to the world. Yet even in her vulnerable state, there was something quietly powerful about her presence. It was a reminder of the strength she carried, the determination that defined her.

Hours passed in relative silence, broken only by the occasional sounds of the infirmary. Shouto didn’t move much, his thoughts circling around the moments they had shared in training, the glimpses of exhaustion she had hidden so well. He felt a faint pang in his chest, a mix of frustration and guilt that he hadn’t acted sooner.

When her breathing shifted slightly and her eyelids fluttered, Shouto straightened in his chair, his mismatched eyes fixed on her. “Yaoyorozu,” he said quietly, his voice steady but laced with a faint urgency.

Her eyes opened slowly, unfocused for a moment before she blinked and turned her gaze toward him. “Todoroki?” she murmured, her voice faint.

Shouto nodded, his tone softening. “You collapsed in training,” he explained simply. “Recovery Girl said you overworked yourself. You’ve been resting.”

Momo’s lips parted slightly, her brows furrowing as though she were trying to process his words. “I... didn’t mean for anyone to notice,” she admitted quietly.

Shouto’s jaw tightened briefly, his frustration tempered by the obvious fragility in her voice. “You should’ve said something,” he replied, his tone calm but firm. “Pushing yourself like this - what were you thinking?”

Momo’s gaze fell to her hands, which rested limply on the blankets. “I couldn’t afford to stop,” she said after a pause. “There’s still so much I need to prove.”

Shouto exhaled slowly, leaning forward slightly. “You’ve already proven yourself,” he said, his voice steady. “But none of it matters if you destroy yourself in the process.”

Momo looked at him, her eyes reflecting a mix of exhaustion and emotion he couldn’t quite place. Before she could respond, Recovery Girl entered with a tray of basic medicine, her voice light but authoritative. “Let’s not have any arguments, now,” she said cheerfully, placing the tray on the bedside table. “Take this, dear, and rest. You’ve earned it.”

As Recovery Girl left, Shouto watched as Momo took the medicine obediently, her movements slow but deliberate. When she lay back against the pillows, her expression softened slightly. “Thank you,” she said quietly, though Shouto wasn’t sure whether she was addressing him or Recovery Girl - or maybe both.

Shouto leaned back in his chair, his mismatched eyes lingering on her for a moment longer. “Rest,” he said simply. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone right now.”

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The walk back to the dorms felt longer than usual, though Momo kept her head high and her steps steady. Recovery Girl had insisted she take it slow, but Momo couldn’t help the faint flush of embarrassment that crept up her neck as she passed her classmates. She could feel their concerned glances, though no one said anything outright.

When she reached the dormitory entrance, Aizawa-Sensei was waiting, his arms crossed and his expression as unreadable as ever. “Yaoyorozu,” he said, his tone calm but firm. “You’re on strict rest orders. No training, no late nights, no overexertion. Understood?”

Momo nodded, though her chest tightened at his words. “Understood, Aizawa-Sensei,” she replied, her voice steady despite the frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

As she stepped inside, the familiar warmth of the dorms greeted her, but it felt different this time - less like a sanctuary and more like a cage. She made her way to her room, her movements slower than usual as the lingering fatigue weighed on her.

The first day of her 'house arrest' passed in relative quiet. Her classmates were kind, offering to bring her tea or snacks, but Momo couldn’t shake the restlessness that settled over her. She sat by the window, her textbooks open in front of her, but her mind kept drifting to the training grounds, to the simulations she wasn’t allowed to run, to the progress she felt slipping through her fingers.

By the second day, the frustration had grown. She paced her room, her gloves resting on her desk as a reminder of the work she wasn’t doing. Her body still ached, and the fever hadn’t fully subsided, but the thought of being idle gnawed at her.

When Midoriya knocked on her door that evening, his notebook in hand and a sheepish smile on his face, she felt a flicker of relief. “I thought you might want some company,” he said, his voice warm. “And maybe we could brainstorm some ideas for new equipment? Nothing strenuous, I promise.”

Momo smiled faintly, gesturing for him to come in. “Thank you, Midoriya,” she said softly. “I could use the distraction.”

As they discussed materials and designs, Momo felt a small sense of normalcy return. But even as she laughed at Midoriya’s enthusiasm, the weight of her restrictions lingered in the back of her mind. She knew she needed to rest, to recover - but the thought of falling behind was a fear she couldn’t quite shake.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The dorm room was quiet except for the sound of pencil against paper, the faint scratching echoing in the stillness. Momo sat at her desk, her shoulders hunched as she worked through another stack of assignments she’d missed while recovering. Her quirk textbook lay open beside her, pages marked with neat notes and diagrams, while her gloves rested untouched near the edge of the desk.

Her fever hadn’t subsided, and her body felt heavier with each passing day, but she refused to let it stop her. She couldn’t afford to fall behind - not when so much was expected of her, not when the weight of proving herself rested firmly on her shoulders.

Momo straightened slightly, brushing back strands of hair that clung to her damp forehead as she glanced at the clock. It was late - far later than she should have been awake - but the thought of unfinished assignments gnawed at her. With trembling hands, she turned the page of her textbook, her eyes scanning the densely packed text.

The words blurred for a moment, her vision swimming before she blinked and refocused. 'Just a little longer,' she thought. 'I need to finish this.'

The cycle repeated itself over the next few days. Momo insisted on working through every assignment, every missed lecture note, even though her fever refused to break. Her classmates stopped by occasionally, their concern evident in their voices, but she always waved them off with a polite smile and reassurances that she was fine.

“I’m making good progress,” she told Midoriya when he offered to help her reorganize her notes one evening. “Thank you for your concern, but I can manage.”

Midoriya had hesitated, his notebook clutched tightly in his hands as he studied her with a mix of worry and skepticism. “You should rest, Yaoyorozu,” he said quietly, though she could tell he knew she wouldn’t listen.

Even Todoroki, who rarely expressed much beyond quiet support, had stopped by her room one afternoon, his mismatched gaze lingering on her pale complexion. “You’re still sick,” he had pointed out simply, his voice calm but carrying a subtle edge of concern. “You should focus on recovering.”

“I am,” Momo had replied, her voice as composed as ever. “But my studies are important, too.”

By the fourth night, Momo’s body finally forced her to stop. Her hand slipped from her desk, the pencil falling to the floor as she fainted for what felt like the hundredth time. Her head rested against her open textbook, her feverish breaths shallow and uneven.

When she woke a few hours later, the sunlight filtering through her curtains, her body ached worse than before. She sat up slowly, her trembling hands clutching the blankets as she tried to steady herself. Despite the exhaustion that weighed her down, her gaze drifted toward the unfinished assignments on her desk.

“I can’t stop now,” she whispered to herself, the resolve in her voice masking the weariness that consumed her. “Not yet.”

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The soft knock at her door startled Momo from her notes, her hand frozen mid-sentence as she turned to glance at the clock. It was late—later than anyone would reasonably be up, aside from herself. The knock came again, this time followed by a familiar voice.

“Yaoyorozu,” Iida called, his voice calm but firm. “It’s me. May I come in?”

Momo hesitated, her fingers brushing over the pages of her notebook before she sighed softly. “Of course, Iida,” she said, her voice steady despite the fatigue that clung to her every word.

The door opened to reveal Iida, his usual energy somewhat subdued as he stepped inside and adjusted his glasses. He glanced at her desk, the stacks of books and assignments spread across it, before turning his attention to her pale complexion.

“I had hoped this wouldn’t be the case,” he said, shaking his head. “But it seems my concerns were valid. Yaoyorozu, you’re overworking yourself.”

Momo straightened her posture, her hands folding neatly in her lap. “I assure you, Iida, I’m managing perfectly fine,” she replied politely. “There’s no need to worry.”

But Iida’s sharp gaze softened as he crossed his arms. “You may believe that, but the evidence suggests otherwise. Recovery Girl warned us that you needed rest, and yet I see no indication that you’ve heeded her advice.”

Momo opened her mouth to protest, but Iida raised a hand to stop her. “Which is why I’ve taken it upon myself to propose a solution,” he continued. “Your classmates and I have agreed to take turns ensuring you rest and pace yourself during your recovery.”

Her lips parted in surprise, though she quickly composed herself. “That’s very kind of you, Iida,” she said carefully. “But I assure you, it’s unnecessary-”

“It’s already been decided,” Iida interrupted gently, his tone firm but kind. “For your own well-being, Yaoyorozu. I’m sorry, but this is non-negotiable.”

Before she could respond, Iida smiled faintly, his usual brisk energy returning. “Your first watch begins tomorrow morning. Please try to cooperate, for your sake and ours.”

As he left, Momo sat in stunned silence, her gaze drifting to the assignments on her desk. For the first time in weeks, she wasn’t sure how to proceed.

The next morning, the sound of a faint knock on her door pulled Momo from her thoughts. She opened it to find Todoroki standing there, his expression calm as ever, a tray with tea and toast balanced neatly in his hands.

“Iida asked me to check on you,” he said simply, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”

Momo blinked, her mind scrambling to process the situation. “I was just about to,” she replied, though she knew it wasn’t true.

Todoroki set the tray on her desk, his mismatched eyes briefly scanning the stacks of papers before meeting her gaze. “You should focus on eating first,” he said, his tone gentle but leaving no room for argument. “Your assignments can wait.”

Despite her frustration, she couldn’t quite bring herself to argue with him. She sat down and began eating, her movements slow as she tried to quell the restless energy in her chest.

Over the next few days, the routine became something of a constant. Each day brought a new classmate to her door - some quieter, like Kyouka and Todoroki, and others more boisterous, like Denki and Hanta.

“I brought snacks!” Denki announced one afternoon, grinning as he held up a bag of chips and a box of cookies. “Don’t tell Iida - they’re definitely not on the ‘approved recovery diet.’”

Kyouka was less talkative, though she often lingered, her headphones draped casually around her neck as she worked on her own homework beside Momo. “You don’t have to finish everything at once,” she said one evening, her tone soft but pointed. “Seriously, it’s not worth making yourself sicker.”

Even Midoriya joined the rotation, his enthusiastic chatter filling the room as he shared his notes and ideas for new study techniques. “We can go over this together later,” he said with a grin, gesturing to her physics textbook. “That way, you don’t have to stress about catching up alone.”

And, to her surprise, Bakugou appeared occasionally, though his visits were accompanied by his usual gruff demeanor. “Don’t think this means I care or anything,” he muttered one evening, crossing his arms as he stood awkwardly by the door. “But you look like crap, so stop being stupid and rest.”

Despite herself, Momo found a small smile tugging at her lips. It wasn’t easy to let go of her habits, but their efforts left her feeling a warmth she hadn’t realized she needed.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The sound of faint music drifted through Momo’s room as she sat propped up against the headboard, a soft blanket draped over her lap. Kyouka had made herself at home in the corner, her headphones half on as she scrolled through her tablet. The cords of her earphone jacks twitched occasionally, as though she were deciding on the right frequency to calm the room.

“You don’t have to stay, Jirou,” Momo said softly, though her voice lacked its usual firmness. “I’ll be fine.”

Kyouka snorted, her gaze flicking to Momo briefly before returning to her screen. “Yeah, sure. And what, you’re gonna get up in the middle of the night and try to finish your assignments again? Not happening.”

Momo sighed, her cheeks warming slightly. “I’m just trying to stay on top of things.”

“You’re trying to run yourself into the ground, is what you’re doing,” Kyouka replied, her tone blunt but lacking any real bite. “Look, I get it. You want to prove yourself - Hell, I’d probably be the same way if I were in your shoes. But, Yaomomo, you’re already amazing. You don’t have to kill yourself to prove it.”

The words hung in the air, and Momo found herself at a rare loss for what to say. Instead, she nodded quietly, her gaze falling to her hands.

Kyouka set her tablet down and stood, stretching before walking over to the desk. She picked up a bottle of water, placing it beside Momo with a small smile. “Now drink that, or I’m telling Iida you’re skipping hydration. He’ll give you a whole lecture, and I know neither of us wants that.”

Despite herself, Momo let out a soft laugh, the tension in her chest easing slightly. “Thank you, Jirou,” she said sincerely.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

“Hey, BFF!” Denki exclaimed as he threw open the door with so much energy that Momo flinched slightly. He stood in the doorway, a bag of snacks clutched in one hand and a cheerful grin on his face. “Guess who’s here to make sure you don’t totally lose it!”

Momo blinked, slightly startled. “Kami, please - volume,” she said, her voice faint but tinged with amusement.

Denki closed the door behind him, dropping the snacks onto her desk before plopping into the chair without a second thought. “Relax, I’m here to lighten the mood. You’re stressing out too much, and that’s, like, my expertise - not stressing.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, the hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “I don’t think that’s something to boast about.”

“Hey, gotta play to my strengths,” he said with a wink, leaning back dramatically. “Anyway, what do you wanna do? I can test you on your notes or, like, read you boring textbooks in funny voices. Or... we could ditch all of that and watch a movie. You know, something with explosions to match my personality.”

Momo let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “You don’t have to entertain me, Kami. Just knowing you’re here is enough.”

Denki grinned, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “Aww, see? That’s why we’re besties, Yaomomo. You get me. But seriously, you need to chill. So I’m just gonna hang out here and make sure you don’t get too serious, okay?”

Though his words were lighthearted, there was an earnestness in his tone that warmed her. Momo nodded, her chest feeling just a little lighter.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The quiet knock at the door was expected, but the voice that followed wasn’t. “Hey, Prima, you decent?” (Prima is Spanish for cousin, Sero is Half-Latino in my AU) 

Momo smiled faintly as she sat up straighter. “Come in, Hanta,” she replied softly.

Hanta entered with his usual casual confidence, his easygoing demeanor immediately putting her at ease. He carried a bowl of soup, steam curling lazily from the surface as he set it down on her desk.

“Mom called earlier,” he said, pulling a chair over to sit beside her. “She said I better take care of you or I’m never hearing the end of it. So, here I am.”

Momo chuckled lightly, shaking her head. “I appreciate the effort, but I’m fine, really.”

“Uh-huh,” Hanta replied, raising an eyebrow. “And I’m the Number One Pro Hero. Come on, Momo, you’re terrible at pretending nothing’s wrong. How long have you been this stubborn?”

Momo hesitated, the warmth in his teasing tone disarming her defenses. “I just don’t want to fall behind,” she admitted quietly.

Hanta leaned back in his chair, his gaze softening. “You’re not falling behind. You’re recovering. Big difference. And trust me, no one’s gonna think less of you for taking a break - especially not me.”

Her chest tightened at his words, and she nodded silently. Hanta reached out, tapping the bowl lightly. “Now eat up, or I’m calling Mom to tattle on you.”

Momo laughed softly, the tension in her shoulders easing as she picked up the spoon. “Thank you, Hanta,” she said, her voice filled with genuine gratitude.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The evening air in her dorm room was quiet, the soft sound of papers rustling as Momo reviewed her notes. She had promised herself not to overdo it - not tonight, not while Todoroki was hovering just a few feet away with the faintly concerned expression he tried so hard to mask.

“Todoroki,” she said after a moment, her voice breaking the silence. “You don’t have to stay the entire evening. I’m doing much better now.”

He glanced up from the textbook he had been pretending to read, his mismatched eyes sharp as they met hers. “Iida said to monitor you. I’m monitoring,” he replied simply, though there was a faint flush on his cheeks.

Momo smiled softly, her heart warming despite the exhaustion that still lingered in her chest. She turned back to her notes, her fingers brushing over the pages absentmindedly. She could feel his gaze on her - subtle, quiet, but unyielding.

A few minutes passed, and when the silence grew heavy, Shouto stood and moved toward her desk, picking up the glass of water she had left untouched. He placed it in front of her with a quiet command: “Drink.”

Momo blinked, her lips parting slightly in surprise. “I will,” she murmured, her cheeks warming as she met his steady gaze.

“You say that, but you don’t,” he replied, his tone soft but resolute.

She chuckled lightly, picking up the glass and sipping obediently. “Thank you, Todoroki,” she said, her voice carrying the weight of genuine gratitude.

His lips quirked into the smallest of smiles, and Momo’s heart fluttered. She turned her focus back to her notes, but the warmth in her chest refused to fade, her thoughts lingering on the quiet care Shouto always seemed to offer without hesitation.

The sound of footsteps outside her door caught Momo’s attention, followed by the familiar sharp knock she had come to recognize immediately. “Oi, open up,” Bakugou’s gruff voice called, and she couldn’t help but smile faintly as she moved to let him in.

Bakugou stepped inside, carrying a tray laden with carefully prepared meals - steamed vegetables, light protein, and a bowl of soup that still steamed faintly. He set it on her desk without ceremony, his crimson eyes scanning her briefly before narrowing slightly.

“You eat all of this,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re burning through energy too fast, and your Quirk isn’t helping. If you don’t eat, I’ll shove it down your throat.”

Momo raised an eyebrow, though the amusement in her expression softened any real challenge. “You’re more considerate than you let on, Bakugou,” she said lightly, sitting down and picking up the spoon.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. “Don’t read into it. I just don’t want to deal with you passing out again.”

She chuckled softly, the warmth of his gruff support settling over her. As she ate, Bakugou stayed quietly nearby, occasionally commenting on the meal’s nutritional value and reminding her to eat faster - or slower, depending on his judgment at the moment.

Despite his tone, Momo could feel the care in his actions, and it warmed her heart in a way she didn’t quite know how to describe.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The days of recovery were slow and restless, but they brought clarity that Momo hadn’t expected. She began to notice the subtle shifts around her - the way her classmates made an effort to involve her in lighter tasks and conversations, the quiet acknowledgment of her growth from Aizawa-Sensei in moments where he would otherwise criticize, the way her body began to feel just a fraction stronger each day.

It was late afternoon, and she was sitting on the dorm balcony, her gloves resting on her lap as she looked out over the campus. The breeze carried faint whispers of conversation from the common room below, mingling with the distant hum of the training grounds where her classmates were practicing. She could feel a faint ache in her chest - both a reminder of her condition and a longing to join them.

“Todoroki and Denki have been asking about you,” Kyouka had told her earlier in the day, her voice quiet but teasing. “Not that I blame them. You’re our strategist.”

It was that word - strategist - that lingered in Momo’s mind as she turned her gaze back to the gloves. Strategists didn’t break under pressure. They didn’t falter, even when the world expected them to. That was her role, and she had to live up to it.

Shouto adjusted his wrist guards as he prepared for the day’s practical training, his gaze occasionally flicking to the doorway as students filtered into the room. The hum of conversation was unremarkable, but he felt his focus drift toward the absence of a familiar presence.

When Yaoyorozu stepped through the doorway, her posture as composed as ever, the faint buzz of voices around him quieted briefly. She wasn’t moving as quickly or confidently as usual, but she was there - and that fact alone seemed to shift something in the atmosphere.

“Yaoyorozu,” Iida said immediately, his sharp tone carrying across the room as he stepped forward. “You’ve returned! Are you sure you’re ready?”

Momo smiled faintly, her voice calm as she replied. “I’m fine, Iida. Thank you for your concern.”

Shouto watched her closely, his mismatched eyes lingering on her movements as she placed her gloves on the desk. She wasn’t fine - not entirely. He could see the faint tension in her shoulders, the way her breathing was slightly uneven, the carefully masked strain in her expression. But she was here, and that fact alone filled him with a quiet sense of admiration.

When the training began, Shouto found himself instinctively working beside her, supporting her in subtle ways without drawing attention to her condition. She didn’t ask for help, and he didn’t offer openly. Instead, he adjusted his movements to complement hers, ensuring she could act without hesitation.

As the training session ended and the simulated crisis faded, Momo straightened her posture, her gloves still resting securely on her hands. She exhaled slowly, her chest tight with both exertion and relief. Shouto approached her quietly, his expression unreadable but his gaze steady.

“You did well,” he said simply, his voice low enough for only her to hear. “I don’t think anyone noticed how tired you still are.”

Momo turned toward him, her lips curving into a faint smile. “Thank you, Todoroki,” she replied. “I appreciate your support - quiet as it may be.”

Shouto nodded, his chest tightening briefly before he glanced away. He didn’t need to say more. He knew she understood.

That evening, Momo sat by her desk, her textbooks open and her notes neatly arranged. She felt the ache in her body less acutely now, and the fever had finally broken. For the first time in weeks, she felt capable - not just physically, but mentally, emotionally.

She traced her finger over the edge of her gloves, a small smile tugging at her lips. Her classmates had rallied around her, supporting her in ways she hadn’t anticipated. She had returned to training, proving to herself that her strength wasn’t just a measure of endurance - it was her resilience, her ability to adapt and grow.

As she looked out at the moonlit campus, she realized something she hadn’t before. She wasn’t alone in this journey. And for the first time, she allowed herself to feel the quiet pride that came with that realization.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The days had passed quietly, each one marking Momo’s gradual return to normalcy. Her fever had subsided, her energy restored - or so she thought. For two weeks, she had attended class, participated in practical training, and even resumed her late-night study sessions without issue. She had convinced herself that she was fine, that her body had fully recovered, and that she was back on track.

Her classmates had been supportive, though their quiet monitoring hadn’t stopped. Todoroki still brought her tea on occasion, Kyouka would check in subtly during breaks, and Denki’s boisterous energy often filled the air with distraction. Even Bakugou continued to drop off meals, though he never lingered long enough for conversation. Momo appreciated their efforts but had begun to reassure them less and less - it felt unnecessary now that she had settled back into her routine.

But as the second week drew to a close, a faint weight began to creep back into her chest. Her throat felt dry, her head heavier than usual, and the exhaustion she thought she’d left behind began to return in quiet, insidious ways. She ignored it at first, chalking it up to the lingering effects of overwork. Surely it was nothing serious - she had recovered, hadn’t she?

The common room was warm that afternoon, sunlight streaming through the windows as Momo curled up on one of the couches, her bō staff resting against the armrest. Practical training had ended just hours before, and she had decided to study in the common area for a change of pace. Her notes were neatly spread across the coffee table, her gloves beside them, and her mind was focused on her calculations - or at least she was trying to focus.

She felt the heaviness in her limbs again, the faint ache in her throat, but she shook it off and continued writing. Her pen faltered once, her vision blurring slightly before she blinked it away. ' I’m fine,' she told herself, adjusting her posture and taking a deep breath. ' I just need to pace myself.'

But the heaviness grew worse, her head falling back against the cushion as her hand slipped from the notebook. Her chest tightened, her breaths uneven as she struggled to stay conscious. She wasn’t fainting this timeit - was different, slower, as though her body were quietly rebelling against her resolve.

When the sound of footsteps reached her ears, she blinked sluggishly, her gaze flickering toward the doorway as Todoroki entered the room. His mismatched eyes widened slightly when he saw her, the subtle tension in his posture betraying his concern.

Shouto had been returning from the training grounds, his wrist guards still on as he adjusted the straps absentmindedly. The sound of quiet conversation in the common room drew his attention, though he couldn’t immediately place who was there. When he stepped inside, his heart tightened unexpectedly.

Yaoyorozu was slumped on the couch, her notes and gloves spread neatly around her, but her complexion was pale, and her breathing sounded uneven. He moved toward her quickly, his eyes scanning her for signs of fever or injury.

“Yaoyorozu,” he said quietly, his tone firm but calm. “What’s wrong?”

She opened her eyes faintly, her gaze meeting his for a moment before she sighed. “I’m fine,” she murmured, though the words lacked conviction.

Shouto frowned, his jaw tightening as he crouched beside her. “You’re not fine,” he replied, his voice low but resolute. “You’ve been pushing yourself too hard again, haven’t you?”

Momo hesitated, her lips parting slightly before closing again. She didn’t answer, but her silence was enough to confirm his suspicion.

Shouto exhaled slowly, standing and turning toward the hallway. “You need help,” he said simply. “Stay here - I’ll get Recovery Girl.”

As Shouto left the room, Momo felt her chest tighten - not just from the physical strain but from the realization she had been avoiding for days. She had pushed herself back into her routine too soon, convinced she could handle it, but her body was telling her otherwise. The frustration in her chest felt heavier than the exhaustion that weighed her down.

When Todoroki returned with Recovery Girl and Kyouka trailing behind him, Momo straightened slightly, her movements weak but deliberate. Recovery Girl approached with her usual kind yet firm demeanor, her hands already reaching for the thermometer.

“You should’ve come to me sooner,” Recovery Girl said gently, her tone tinged with disappointment. “You need more rest - this isn’t something you can force your way through.”

Momo nodded silently, her gaze falling to her hands as Kyouka sat beside her and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Shouto lingered nearby, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable, though the faint furrow in his brow betrayed his concern.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The familiar walls of her dorm room felt suffocating as Momo lay curled under her blankets, her body trembling despite the warmth that enveloped her. The fever had returned with a vengeance, leaving her weak and disoriented. She had tried to hide it at first, brushing off the fatigue and the chills as remnants of her earlier illness, but it had become impossible to ignore.

Shouto had noticed immediately. He always did.

Now, he sat beside her bed, his expression calm but his mismatched eyes betraying the quiet worry he tried to mask. His right hand rested gently on her forehead, the coolness of his quirk soothing the relentless heat that burned through her.

“You’re still burning up,” he said softly, his voice steady but tinged with concern. “You need to drink more water.”

Momo nodded faintly, her throat too dry to respond. Shouto reached for the glass on her bedside table, holding it to her lips as she sipped slowly. The water was cool and refreshing, but it did little to ease the heaviness in her chest.

“You should’ve told someone sooner,” Shouto continued, his tone quiet but firm. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

Momo closed her eyes, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not a burden,” he replied immediately, his voice softening. “You never have been.”

The days blurred together as Momo remained confined to her room, her fever refusing to break despite Shouto’s constant care. Her classmates visited occasionally, their presence a welcome distraction from the haze of exhaustion that clouded her mind.

Kyouka was the first to stop by, her headphones draped around her neck as she leaned against the doorframe. “You look like Hell,” she said bluntly, though her tone was laced with affection. “But I brought you something to listen to - thought it might help you relax.”

She handed Momo a small music player, the playlist already queued up. Momo smiled faintly, her fingers brushing over the device. “Thank you, Jirou,” she murmured.

Denki and Hanta arrived together the next day, their usual banter filling the room with a lighthearted energy that Momo hadn’t realized she needed. “We brought snacks!” Denki announced, holding up a bag of chocolate.

“And water,” Hanta added, shooting Denki a pointed look. “Because someone thought chocolates were a good idea for someone with a fever.”

Momo chuckled softly, her voice hoarse. “Thank you, both of you.”

Midoriya’s visit was quieter, his notebook tucked under his arm as he sat beside her bed. “I thought we could go over some notes together,” he said, his voice warm. “But only if you’re feeling up to it.”

Momo nodded, her heart swelling with gratitude. “I’d like that,” she said softly.

And then there was Bakugou. He never stayed long, but he always brought meals - light, nutritious dishes that he placed on her desk without a word. “Eat,” he’d say gruffly, his crimson eyes flicking to her briefly before he left.

Despite his brusque demeanor, Momo could feel the care in his actions, and it warmed her in a way that even the fever couldn’t diminish.

Through it all, Shouto remained by her side, his presence a constant source of comfort. He rarely left the room, his right hand cooling her forehead whenever the fever spiked, his quiet voice urging her to drink water or eat the meals Bakugou brought.

“You don’t have to stay,” Momo said one evening, her voice weak but sincere. “You’ve done so much already.”

Shouto shook his head, his expression calm but resolute. “I’m not leaving,” he said simply. “Not until you’re better.”

Momo’s chest tightened, a mix of gratitude and something deeper swelling within her. She closed her eyes, letting the coolness of his hand soothe her as she whispered, “Thank you, Todoroki.”

He didn’t respond, but the faint smile that tugged at his lips spoke volumes.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The dorms were unusually still that evening, the faint hum of the heater blending with the occasional creak of the building settling. Shouto sat in the common room, his mismatched eyes flicking toward the couch where Yaoyorozu lay curled up under a blanket. She had insisted on coming downstairs to 'get some fresh air,' though he suspected it was more about escaping the confines of her room than anything else.

Her fever hadn’t broken yet, and her exhaustion was evident in the way her movements had slowed throughout the day. She had barely touched the soup Bakugou had brought earlier, her appetite waning as the fever sapped her strength. Shouto had stayed close, his quiet presence a constant as he monitored her condition.

“Yaoyorozu,” he said softly, his voice breaking the silence. “You should go back to your room. You’ll be more comfortable there.”

She shook her head faintly, her eyes half-closed as she murmured, “I’m fine here. I just... need a change of scenery.”

Shouto frowned slightly, his gaze lingering on her pale complexion. He didn’t argue - he knew better than to push her when she was like this. Instead, he moved to sit on the edge of the couch, his right hand cooling as he placed it gently against her forehead.

“You’re still burning up,” he said quietly, his tone steady but tinged with concern. “You need to rest.”

“I am resting,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just... I’m tired.”

Shouto’s chest tightened at her words, the quiet vulnerability in her tone stirring something deep within him. He adjusted the blanket around her, his movements careful as he tried to make her more comfortable.

As the minutes passed, her breathing grew slower, her body relaxing under the weight of the blanket. Shouto stayed beside her, his hand still cooling her forehead as he watched her quietly. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, but when she shifted slightly, her head leaning against his arm, he froze.

“Yaoyorozu,” he said softly, his voice hesitant. “Are you-”

“Just... stay,” she murmured, her words faint but deliberate. “Please.”

Shouto’s heart skipped a beat, his mismatched eyes widening briefly before he nodded. He adjusted his position carefully, leaning back against the couch as she shifted closer, her head resting against his shoulder. The warmth of her fevered skin contrasted sharply with the coolness of his Quirk, and he found himself holding his breath as he tried to process the moment.

The room was quiet, the faint sound of the heater the only noise as Shouto sat there, his arm resting lightly around her shoulders. He wasn’t sure if this counted as cuddling or snuggling - he didn’t know the difference either - but he knew one thing for certain: he didn’t want to move.

Her breathing was steady now, her body relaxed against his, and Shouto felt a quiet sense of relief settle over him. She was still sick, still fragile, but in this moment, she seemed at peace. And for the first time in days, he allowed himself to feel the warmth of her presence without the weight of worry pressing down on him.

The dorm room was quiet except for the faint sound of Momo’s uneven breathing. Shouto sat beside her bed, his right hand cooling her forehead as he watched her closely. Her fever hadn’t broken, and the flush in her cheeks had deepened, her body trembling under the weight of the blankets.

He had stayed by her side for hours, his mismatched eyes scanning her for any sign of improvement. But the fever seemed relentless, and the worry in his chest grew heavier with each passing moment.

“Yaoyorozu,” he said softly, his voice steady but tinged with concern. “You need to drink more water.”

She stirred faintly, her eyes opening just enough to meet his gaze. “I’m tired,” she murmured, her voice hoarse and weak.

Shouto frowned, his jaw tightening as he reached for the glass on the bedside table. “You still need to stay hydrated,” he replied, holding the glass to her lips as she sipped slowly.

Her movements were sluggish, her head falling back against the pillow as she exhaled softly. Shouto adjusted the blanket around her, his hand lingering on her forehead as he tried to cool the heat that radiated from her skin.

The sound of footsteps in the hallway drew his attention, and he glanced toward the door as Bakugou entered, carrying a tray of food. The blond set it down on the desk without a word, his crimson eyes flicking to Momo briefly before turning to Shouto.

“She eat anything yet?” Bakugou asked gruffly, his tone sharp but lacking its usual bite.

Shouto shook his head, his expression calm but serious. “Not much. She’s too weak.”

Bakugou muttered something under his breath, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall. “She needs to eat,” he said firmly. “Her Quirk burns through energy faster than normal and she already has an annoyingly fast metabolism. If she doesn’t, she’s gonna get worse.”

Shouto nodded, his gaze returning to Momo. “I’ll try again later,” he said quietly.

Bakugou lingered for a moment longer before leaving, his footsteps fading down the hallway. Shouto sighed softly, his hand brushing against Momo’s forehead as he whispered, “You need to fight this, Yaoyorozu. You’re stronger than this fever.”

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The haze of exhaustion clouded Momo’s mind, her body too weak to move as she lay under the blankets. She could feel the coolness of Shouto’s hand against her forehead, the soothing contrast to the relentless heat that burned through her.

“Todoroki,” she murmured faintly, her voice barely audible.

“I’m here,” he replied immediately, his tone steady but soft.

Her chest tightened, a mix of gratitude and frustration swelling within her. She hated feeling this weak, hated relying on others when she had always prided herself on her independence. But in this moment, she couldn’t deny the comfort his presence brought.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her eyes closing as she let herself relax under his care.

Shouto didn’t respond, but the quiet determination in his gaze spoke volumes. He wasn’t leaving - not until she was better.

The days passed slowly, each one marked by the faint stirrings of improvement in Momo’s condition. Her fever no longer burned quite as fiercely, her breathing less labored than it had been, but she was still far from well. The ache in her limbs remained, a reminder of how fragile her body had become after weeks of overexertion.

Her classmates continued their careful rotations, checking in with quiet consistency to ensure she wasn’t left alone for too long. Shouto, ever steadfast, remained by her side more often than not, his calming presence easing her frustration with each passing day.

“Todoroki,” she murmured one afternoon, her voice hoarse but deliberate as she glanced toward him. “You’ve been here so much. You don’t have to keep doing this.”

Shouto raised an eyebrow, his mismatched gaze steady as he lowered the glass of water in his hand. “I’m here because I want to be,” he replied simply, his tone unwavering.

His words sent a quiet warmth through her chest, and she smiled faintly before closing her eyes, letting the coolness of his quirk ease the lingering heat in her forehead.

As Momo drifted back to sleep, Shouto adjusted the blankets around her, his movements careful as he studied her pale complexion. She had improved, yes, but not enough to ease the worry that had settled in his chest. Her recovery had been slow, frustratingly slow, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she’d pushed herself too far once again.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The evenings had grown colder, the dorms quiet as Momo sat propped up in her bed, her notes scattered across the blanket. She felt a small flicker of pride at being able to read again without her vision swimming, though the effort left her more exhausted than she cared to admit.

When Midoriya entered the room, his notebook tucked under his arm, Momo smiled faintly, her voice soft. “Midoriya. Thank you for coming.”

“Of course!” he said, his voice carrying its usual enthusiasm. “I thought we could go over some material together, but only if you’re feeling up to it.”

Momo nodded, her heart warming at his earnestness. “That would be wonderful,” she replied, her voice steadier than before.

As they studied, Momo found herself relaxing, her focus shifting away from the lingering frustration of her recovery. It was a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless.

Later that night, as Momo lay resting on the couch in the common room, Shouto sat beside her, his right hand cooling her forehead. The fever had spiked again briefly, her body trembling under the weight of the blankets, and Shouto had stayed close, his mismatched eyes scanning her for any sign of worsening.

She stirred faintly, her voice weak as she murmured his name. “Todoroki.”

“I’m here,” he said immediately, his voice calm but resolute.

Her hand reached out weakly, brushing against his arm as she whispered, “Thank you. For... everything.”

Shouto’s chest tightened, his gaze softening as he adjusted her blanket. “You don’t have to thank me,” he replied quietly. “Just focus on getting better.”

As the fever began to ease again under the cooling touch of his Quirk, Shouto allowed himself a small moment of relief. She wasn’t fully better yet, but he wouldn’t leave her side - not until she was.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting long shadows on the walls of Momo’s cramped dorm. The space felt smaller than usual with Shouto sitting on the edge of her four-poster bed, one arm propped behind him to keep his balance while the other rested lightly on Momo’s back.

She was asleep, her breathing soft and even, her fever finally showing faint signs of subsiding. Shouto exhaled quietly, his mismatched eyes scanning the room - her neatly arranged bookshelf, the meticulously organized study desk tucked into the corner, and the blankets she had adjusted earlier, now half-spilled over the edge of the bed.

His attention shifted back to her as she stirred slightly, her hand curling into the fabric of his jacket. Shouto froze, his heart skipping a beat as her head tilted closer to his shoulder. She shifted again, murmuring something unintelligible in her sleep before settling fully against him.

Shouto glanced at the door, his mind briefly running through the logistics of moving without waking her. But her grip on his jacket tightened faintly, and he sighed inwardly. I’m not going anywhere, he thought, his chest tightening with a mix of helplessness and... something else he refused to examine too closely.

After a few minutes, the quiet rumble of his stomach reminded him of a growing problem - Momo hadn’t eaten in hours, and neither had he. There was a bottle of water on the desk and a leftover bowl of soup from Bakugou’s last delivery, but both were just out of reach.

Shouto glanced down at her, her peaceful expression pulling at something deep within him. He didn’t want to disturb her - not after the restless days and nights she’d endured. With a quiet sigh, he reached for his phone in his pocket, careful not to jostle her as he scrolled through his contacts.

Sero picked up on the second ring. “Yo, Todoroki,” he said, his tone casual but laced with curiosity. “What’s up?”

“Sero,” Shouto said softly, his voice low so as not to wake Momo. “I need a favor. Can you bring some food and water to Yaoyorozu’s room?”

“Food and water?” Sero echoed, amusement creeping into his voice. “What, are you stuck or something?”

Shouto hesitated for a moment, glancing at Momo’s hand still clutching his jacket. “Yes,” he admitted simply.

There was a pause, and then Sero burst out laughing. “Man, you’re whipped,” he teased, though his voice held no malice. “Alright, I’ll be up in a few minutes. Just hang tight - literally, I guess.”

“Thank you,” Shouto said, ignoring the jab as he ended the call.

True to his word, Sero arrived a few minutes later, knocking softly on the door before stepping inside with a tray balanced on one hand. “Here’s your rescue package,” he whispered, setting the tray down on the desk with a grin. “Guess I don’t need to ask why you couldn’t move.”

Shouto gave him a pointed look, his cheeks faintly pink as he adjusted Momo’s blanket without a word. Sero smirked but said nothing more, giving a small wave as he exited the room.

As the door clicked shut, Shouto reached for the bottle of water, carefully coaxing Momo into a more comfortable position as she murmured softly in her sleep. He settled back against the headboard, her head still resting against his shoulder, and resigned himself to staying there as long as she needed.

Chapter Text

The morning sun cast a gentle glow over U.A.’s training grounds, the brisk autumn air carrying a renewed sense of energy. Momo adjusted her gloves, the familiar snugness giving her a comforting sense of control. It had been weeks since her recovery, and though her body still demanded she pace herself, she felt steady - ready.

Aizawa-Sensei stood before the class, his hands buried in his pockets as his usual dry expression surveyed them. “Today’s patrol will give you all experience in working with a partner to handle potential low-level disturbances,” he announced, his tone even but a touch lighter than usual. “Remember, this isn’t free time, and it’s definitely not couple time.” His eyes flicked meaningfully toward Kirishima and Ashido, who exchanged sheepish looks.

“You’ll pick your partners,” Aizawa continued. “Once you’re paired, you’ll be assigned a patrol route. That’s it - get to it.”

Momo felt a faint flutter of nerves as her classmates began moving toward one another, their chatter filling the air. She glanced briefly at Todoroki, who had already turned in her direction, his expression calm but his gaze intent. She opened her mouth to speak when a loud, nervous laugh broke her train of thought.

Ochako grabbed Tsuyu’s arm suddenly, her cheeks faintly pink as she blurted, “Tsu, let’s be partners!”

Tsuyu blinked, her calm gaze flicking between Ochako and Tokoyami. “I thought I’d partner with Tokoyami,” she said evenly.

Ochako’s grip tightened slightly, her smile stiff but determined. “Tsu, pleeease? We’d work really well together!”

Tsuyu tilted her head before nodding. “Okay, Ochako. That’s fine.”

Tokoyami, now free of his prospective partner, stood silently for a moment before glancing toward Momo with his usual quiet intensity.

Meanwhile, Midoriya, who had been glancing nervously toward Ochako, suddenly turned to Todoroki, his words coming out in a hurried tumble. “Todoroki! Let’s partner up!”

Todoroki blinked, his calm expression faltering slightly as he turned back to Momo briefly, a faint trace of hesitation in his gaze. But Midoriya was already waiting expectantly, and Todoroki gave a small nod. “Sure.”

Momo watched the exchange, her chest tightening for reasons she couldn’t quite pinpoint. But she pushed the feeling aside as Tokoyami approached, his hands tucked into his pockets.

“Yaoyorozu,” he said, his tone steady. “Shall we?”

Momo’s lips curved into a polite smile as she nodded. “Of course, Tokoyami. I’d be happy to partner with you.”

The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on her. Tokoyami had inadvertently been the catalyst for much of her self-doubt during their First Year, his dominance in the Sports Festival sparking a cascade of doubts about her worth as a hero. But time had softened the edges of that memory, and she never harbored any resentment toward him. If anything, she admired his quiet strength and sharp instincts.

As they walked toward the staging area, she glanced at him. “It’s been a while since we’ve worked together, hasn’t it?”

Tokoyami nodded, his gaze forward. “It has. But I trust we’ll complement each other well.”

His words, spoken with quiet sincerity, eased some of the tension in her chest. She allowed herself a small smile, her confidence growing as she focused on the task ahead.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The streets of the shopping district hummed with life as Momo and Tokoyami walked side by side, their patrol route marked out on the map Aizawa-Sensei had given them earlier. The crisp air was filled with the chatter of shoppers and the occasional bark of a distant dog, and for the most part, the scene was peaceful. Momo adjusted her gloves, her sharp eyes scanning the area for anything out of the ordinary, though it seemed their patrol was shaping up to be uneventful so far.

“This area is remarkably calm,” Tokoyami observed, his hands tucked into his pockets as he glanced toward a cluster of stores. “Perhaps a testament to the quiet strength of its residents.”

Momo smiled faintly, her pace steady as she replied, “Or perhaps we’ve been fortunate with our timing. Either way, I don’t mind a peaceful patrol - it gives us time to sharpen our observational skills.”

Their conversation was briefly interrupted when an older woman approached, her brow furrowed as she glanced between them. “Excuse me, heroes,” she said kindly, holding up her phone. “Could you tell me how to find the nearest train station? I seem to have gotten a bit turned around.”

Momo stepped forward with a gracious smile, her tone polite and reassuring. “Of course. You’ll want to head down this street,” she explained, gesturing to the left. “Then take a right at the second intersection. The station will be just ahead.”

“Thank you, dear,” the woman replied warmly. “You’re quite the helpful young hero.”

Momo bowed slightly, her cheeks flushing with modesty as the woman walked away. “It’s always a pleasure to help, no matter how small the request.”

Tokoyami nodded in agreement, though a faint flicker of thought crossed his expression as they continued walking. “You handle interactions with civilians quite well,” he said after a pause. “It’s clear why you’re so often recognized as a strategic mind among our peers.”

Momo glanced at him, slightly startled by the compliment. “Thank you, Tokoyami. That means a great deal coming from you.”

They rounded a corner and came across a small group of children, their attention focused on a tree where a rather distressed cat had climbed to an impressive height. One of the children turned toward them, his eyes widening as he recognized the hero costumes.

“Heroes! Can you help us?” he called out, pointing to the cat. “Coffee won’t come down!”

Momo crouched slightly to meet the boy’s gaze, her expression warm and understanding. “Of course we can help,” she said gently. She turned to Tokoyami, her tone calm. “If you could create a shadow platform to guide the cat down, I can ensure it feels secure on the way.”

Tokoyami nodded, his hand extending as Dark Shadow emerged, forming a steady platform beneath the frightened animal. With careful precision, the cat was coaxed down, meowing loudly before leaping into the arms of one of the children.

“Thank you, heroes!” the boy exclaimed, his grin wide as the group dispersed with their furry companion.

“That was well-coordinated,” Tokoyami remarked as they continued down the street. “You seem to have a natural talent for calming others.”

Momo laughed softly, though her smile carried a hint of self-awareness. “I’ve had plenty of practice. Although...” She hesitated, her gaze falling briefly. “I haven’t always been so confident. There was a time when I struggled to believe in my abilities at all.”

Tokoyami’s steps slowed slightly, his tone quieter as he replied, “Was that during our First Year? After the Sports Festival, perhaps?”

Her expression softened, though she shook her head quickly. “It wasn’t your fault, Tokoyami. If anything, it was my own doubts that held me back. You were simply doing your best, as we all were.”

He inclined his head, his voice thoughtful. “Even so, I have reflected on that match many times. It was never my intention to overshadow your potential or contribute to the challenges you’ve faced since. I apologize if my actions then played any role in your self-doubt.”

Momo blinked, slightly taken aback by the sincerity in his words. “Tokoyami, you don’t need to apologize,” she said softly. “If anything, that experience pushed me to grow. I wouldn’t be the hero I am today without it.”

Tokoyami nodded, his expression unreadable but his tone steady. “Then I am glad it led to your strength. You are far more formidable than you give yourself credit for, Yaoyorozu.”

Her cheeks flushed faintly, though she smiled, her confidence bolstered by his words. “Thank you, Tokoyami. That means more than you know.”

The tranquility of their patrol was interrupted by the distant sound of crashing glass and panicked shouts. Momo’s head snapped toward the source of the commotion, her eyes narrowing as a plume of smoke rose above the rooftops.

“A disturbance,” Tokoyami said gravely, his posture shifting as he prepared for action. “It appears our patrol will not remain so peaceful after all.”

Momo adjusted her gloves, her voice calm but resolute. “Let’s move. Civilians may need assistance.”

As they rushed toward the chaos, Momo’s mind sharpened, her earlier conversation with Tokoyami fading into the background as she focused on the task ahead. Whatever awaited them, she was ready to face it - and she had no doubt that Tokoyami would prove to be a steadfast partner in the moments to come.

The commotion grew louder as Momo and Tokoyami approached the scene, their footfalls quick yet controlled. The air was thick with the acrid stench of smoke, and the unmistakable sound of shattering glass pierced through the din of distant screams. They rounded the corner, and her heart sank at the sight before them.

The mall’s west entrance stood in disarray, its glass doors shattered inward and fragments littering the sidewalk. Inside, overturned displays and scattered merchandise painted a picture of panic. Civilians were scrambling to escape through the exits, clutching their belongings as they fled the chaos.

But what drew Momo’s attention - and stoked the tension in her chest - was the figure at the heart of the destruction. A towering villain with a muscular build, clad in a dark, ragged cloak, stood in the center of the atrium, his glowing crimson eyes scanning the space with an unnerving calm. His arms were outstretched, crackling with an electric energy that sent small arcs jumping between the ruined remains of kiosks and railings.

“Their Quirk…” Momo whispered, narrowing her eyes as she analyzed the scene. “It’s some form of energy manipulation - raw, unstable. We need to control the situation before anyone else gets hurt.”

Tokoyami nodded beside her, his posture tense but composed. “Indeed. Dark Shadow and I will create a diversion. Use the opening to guide any remaining civilians to safety.”

“Understood,” Momo replied firmly, her hands moving instinctively to activate her Quirk, making a pair of smoke bombs. “Be careful, Tsukuyomi.”

As Tokoyami advanced, Dark Shadow sprang forth, its shadowy form darting toward the villain with a sharp cry. The villain turned, his glowing eyes narrowing as he raised one hand, a pulse of energy erupting from his palm. The shockwave sent shattered glass and debris flying, forcing Dark Shadow to weave and dodge with impressive agility.

Momo used the distraction to sprint toward a small group of civilians who were huddled near an overturned bench, their faces pale with fear. “This way!” she called, her voice steady yet urgent as she gestured toward the nearest exit. “Keep your heads down and move quickly!”

The civilians hesitated only briefly before scrambling to their feet, following her instructions as she guided them to safety. She glanced back toward Tokoyami, her breath catching as she saw Dark Shadow deflecting another burst of energy. The villain seemed irritated now, his movements growing more erratic as he advanced toward her partner.

“Creati, focus,” Tokoyami called out, his voice calm but commanding. “We must remain coordinated.”

Momo nodded sharply, her mind racing as she formulated a plan. She crouched behind a nearby column, her hands working swiftly to create a reinforced net - a tool designed to restrain the villain without causing harm. Her gloves allowed her the precision she needed, and within moments, the net was complete.

She glanced at Tokoyami, who caught her eye with a brief nod of understanding. “Dark Shadow can lead him toward you,” he said. “Be ready.”

As the villain unleashed another wave of energy, Dark Shadow darted around him, drawing his attention and guiding him closer to Momo’s position. She held her breath, her hands gripping the edges of the net tightly as she waited for the opportune moment.

But just as she prepared to act, the villain’s hand shot out, a burst of energy striking the column she was hiding behind. The impact sent cracks splintering through the structure, and Momo stumbled backward, her heart pounding as she struggled to regain her footing.

“Yaoyorozu!” Tokoyami’s voice cut through the chaos, and she raised a hand to signal that she was unharmed.

“I’m fine,” she called back, her voice steady despite the tension in her chest. “But we need to reassess. His control over his quirk is stronger than I anticipated.”

The mall was in disarray, chaos spilling through the atrium as Momo and Tokoyami worked to contain the situation. Smoke hung thick in the air, and the debris from shattered railings and toppled kiosks littered the floor. Momo’s breath came quickly but steadily as she crouched behind a fallen pillar, her hands moving deftly to craft smoke bombs for cover.

“Creati, we’ve got this guy’s attention,” Tokoyami called over the commotion, his voice calm but carrying urgency. “Dark Shadow’s keeping him busy for now. You need to focus on the civilians.”

Dark Shadow darted ahead, weaving between bursts of crackling energy that sent sparks flying through the atrium. “We’ll keep him on his toes!” the shadowy figure quipped, his tone casually confident. “Do what you gotta do, Rozu!”

Momo nodded, her mind already calculating the safest route to guide the trapped civilians to the west exit. She sprinted toward them, her crimson cape trailing behind her as she gestured for them to move. “Follow me! Stay close and keep low!”

The civilians hesitated for only a moment before scrambling after her, their panic palpable but their trust in her direction evident. Momo led them toward the exit, her quirk crafting temporary barriers to shield against falling debris as they moved. Her gloves gave her the grip and precision she needed, and she worked tirelessly despite the growing tension in her chest.

“You’re almost there,” she said, her tone reassuring even as her focus shifted back to Tokoyami and the villain’s movements.

Momo turned to lead another group of civilians toward the west exit when a sharp burst of energy erupted nearby, shattering the remains of a railing above her. Shards of glass and jagged metal cascaded downward, and before she could move, a piece of debris struck her left side with brutal force.

The pain was instant, radiating through her ribs and leaving her breathless. Her hand instinctively moved to her side, pressing against the injury as she staggered but refused to fall. The crimson fabric of her costume masked the damage, and she gritted her teeth, determined not to let the civilians - or her partner - notice.

“Keep moving,” she urged the civilians, her voice steady despite the sharp ache. “Head to the west exit - it’s clear!”

Her movements slowed slightly, favoring her right side as she crafted another shield to protect the civilians from falling debris. The group reached the exit, their expressions a mix of relief and gratitude as they turned to thank her. Momo offered a faint smile, her lips pressed together tightly as she nodded and turned back toward Tokoyami.

Tokoyami’s sharp eyes caught sight of Momo as she staggered briefly, one hand pressed to her side. His heart tightened, and he called out to her over the chaos, “Creati, are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Momo replied quickly, her voice firm but clipped as she straightened herself. “Focus on the villain. Civilians are almost clear.”

Tokoyami frowned, his gaze lingering on her movements. She was favoring her right side - not her left as usual - and though she moved with precision, there was an undeniable stiffness in her posture. He glanced at Dark Shadow, who dodged another burst of energy before chiming in casually, “I don’t know, Fumikage. She looks like she’s hurting pretty bad.”

“She’s dismissing it,” Tokoyami muttered under his breath, his jaw tightening. “It’s her nature... but this isn’t the time to ignore injuries.”

He called out to her again, his tone firmer. “If you’re not fine, Creati, you need to reassess. There’s no shame in retreating for treatment if necessary.”

Momo shot him a sharp glance, her voice steady despite the pain in her chest. “I said I’m fine. I can manage.” She turned away before he could reply, her focus shifting to craft another net for the fight.

Tokoyami exhaled slowly, his expression unreadable as he directed Dark Shadow forward. “Fine or not, I’m keeping an eye on her. We’ll hold him here.”

“Don’t worry, Fumikage - I’ll give him an extra headache,” Dark Shadow added with a snicker, darting toward the villain with renewed vigor.

The villain’s energy bursts continued to wreak havoc through the mall’s atrium, the sharp crackle and explosive force sending sparks cascading across the ruined floor. Momo’s breath came quickly but measured as she adjusted her position behind a partially intact pillar, her mind racing to determine the best course of action.

Her left side throbbed painfully, the injury from earlier adding a weight to her movements that she refused to acknowledge outwardly. She pressed her hand against her right side reflexively, the pressure easing the sting just enough to keep her focus intact. Tokoyami and Dark Shadow were doing an excellent job keeping the villain distracted, their coordinated maneuvers deflecting each wave of energy with impressive precision.

“Creati,” Tokoyami called over the chaos, his voice steady but sharp. “Status on the civilians?”

Momo nodded quickly, her voice firm as she replied, “They’re clear. I led the last group out through the west exit.”

Dark Shadow swooped low, dodging another burst of energy before adding, “Good call, Rozu! This guy’s throwing sparks like it’s a festival.”

Momo bit back a smile, focusing instead on crafting another reinforced net. Her hands moved swiftly, the materials forming into a sturdy tool designed to secure falling debris and shield civilians who might still be near the perimeter. She glanced at Tokoyami, who shifted to cover her as the villain turned in her direction.

“Creati,” Tokoyami said quietly as he stepped closer, his sharp eyes scanning her movements. “You’re favoring your right side. That injury - how severe is it?”

“I’m fine,” Momo replied firmly, her tone leaving little room for argument. “Focus on the fight. We need to keep him contained until reinforcements arrive.”

Tokoyami’s gaze lingered on her briefly before he nodded, his trust in her resolve unshaken. “Dark Shadow and I will press him toward the east atrium. Be ready to act when the opportunity arises.”

“You got it!” Dark Shadow chimed, darting forward to intercept another energy burst.

As Tokoyami and Dark Shadow maneuvered around the atrium, their coordinated efforts forced the villain to shift his focus away from Momo and toward them. Tokoyami’s movements were calculated, his steps deliberate as he analyzed the villain’s attacks and adjusted his strategy accordingly.

Together, they moved with precision, forcing the villain to step back toward the east atrium. The energy bursts grew more erratic, the unstable quirk becoming harder to predict. Tokoyami glanced at Momo, who was crafting another tool despite the strain evident in her posture.

“Creati,” he called out, his voice firm but laced with concern. “Are you ready?”

She raised her head, her expression resolute despite the faint sheen of sweat on her brow. “Yes,” she replied, her voice steady. “Let’s finish this.”

The air in the atrium was stifling, thick with the scent of scorched metal and smoke. Momo tightened her grip on the reinforced net she had crafted, her mind running through possible strategies as Tokoyami and Dark Shadow continued to corral the villain toward the east atrium. She could feel the steady throb of pain in her side, but she pushed it to the back of her mind - there was no time to dwell on it.

“Creati!” Tokoyami’s voice cut through the chaos, his sharp tone drawing her attention. “He’s almost in position. Your plan?”

Momo steadied her breath, her eyes scanning the atrium’s structural layout. The broken railings, scattered debris, and weakened pillars all posed risks, but they also offered opportunities. “We need to limit his mobility,” she called back, her voice steady despite the tension in her chest. “Dark Shadow should focus on containing his energy bursts. I’ll create barriers to reinforce the area and prevent further destruction.”

“Understood,” Tokoyami replied, nodding firmly. “Dark Shadow, you heard her.”

“On it!” Dark Shadow chirped, weaving through the air as he advanced toward the villain. “Time to put this guy in a corner.”

Momo moved swiftly, her hands working to craft reinforced panels designed to absorb the impact of the villain’s energy attacks. She positioned them strategically, creating a makeshift perimeter to protect the atrium’s remaining structure. Her movements were efficient, though each one sent a sharp jolt of pain through her left side.

As the panels snapped into place, the villain turned his attention toward her, his glowing crimson eyes narrowing. “You think you can box me in?” he growled, his voice crackling with the same unstable energy that coursed through his body. “Let’s see how well that works.”

He raised his hand, a powerful burst of energy erupting toward her. Momo braced herself, the reinforced panel absorbing most of the impact, though the force sent her stumbling backward.

“Yaoyorozu!” Tokoyami called, his voice tinged with concern as he advanced toward her position. “Are you-”

“I’m fine!” Momo interjected sharply, her voice firm but clipped. “Focus on the villain. We’re almost there.”

Tokoyami’s gaze lingered on Momo for a moment longer, his sharp instincts noting the tension in her movements and the way she held her side. But he respected her resolve and knew that pushing the issue now would only distract her. Instead, he directed Dark Shadow to intensify the assault.

“Dark Shadow, keep him off balance,” Tokoyami commanded, his tone calm yet forceful. “Force him to react.”

Dark Shadow lunged forward, his shadowy form darting around the villain with calculated precision. “On it, Fumikage!” he called, swiping at the villain’s arms to disrupt his aim. “You’re not getting another clear shot, buddy!”

The villain growled in frustration, his energy bursts growing more erratic as he tried to fend off Dark Shadow’s relentless attacks. “Annoying pests!” he snarled, his voice echoing through the atrium.

Meanwhile, Momo worked quickly to adjust the positioning of the barriers, reinforcing weak points and crafting additional tools to aid in their efforts. Despite the pain, her mind remained sharp, her strategic prowess guiding her every move.

The villain’s movements became more desperate as the combined efforts of Momo, Tokoyami, and Dark Shadow began to corner him. The energy crackling around him surged with unstable intensity, the arcs growing larger and more dangerous.

“This power - it’s destabilizing,” Tokoyami muttered, his gaze narrowing as he analyzed the situation. “If we don’t subdue him soon, the damage could become catastrophic.”

Momo nodded, her expression resolute. “Then we need to neutralize him before that happens. I’ll create a containment field - something to isolate his energy.”

“Can you do it in time?” Tokoyami asked, his voice steady but urgent.

“I’ll manage,” Momo replied firmly, though her fingers trembled faintly as she began crafting the components. “Keep him occupied.”

Dark Shadow let out a low whistle. “You got it, Yaomomo. Don’t take too long, though - we’re pushing our luck here.”

As the fight continued to escalate, Momo’s hands moved with precision, her quirk crafting the components for a containment device designed to absorb and disperse the villain’s energy safely. But time was running out, and the strain of the battle was beginning to take its toll on all of them.

The villain’s energy surged once more, the arcs of electricity crackling wildly across the debris-strewn atrium. Momo adjusted her position behind one of the makeshift barriers she’d crafted, her hands moving deftly as she completed the containment device. She could feel the strain in her side, the sharp pain biting with each breath, but she pushed it aside, her focus unyielding.

“Tsukuyomi!” she called, her voice firm but urgent. “The containment field is ready. We need to draw him into position!”

Tokoyami nodded sharply, his expression resolute as he directed Dark Shadow. “Understood. Dark Shadow, let’s close in.”

“On it!” Dark Shadow replied, his tone light despite the chaos.

Together, Tokoyami and Dark Shadow maneuvered strategically, herding the villain toward the reinforced perimeter Momo had constructed. The villain lashed out with another unstable burst of energy, but Dark Shadow deflected it with practiced ease, his shadowy form weaving through the chaos with precision.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Dark Shadow taunted, circling the villain. “Come on, big guy - give us your best shot!”

The villain growled, his focus entirely consumed by the relentless attacks from Tokoyami and Dark Shadow. Momo seized the opportunity, activating the containment device with a swift motion. The field sprang to life, a shimmering barrier of energy designed to neutralize the villain’s destructive bursts.

“Now!” Momo shouted, her voice carrying above the cacophony. “Guide him into the field!”

Dark Shadow struck swiftly, his shadowy tendrils encircling the villain’s arms and forcing him backward into the containment field. The villain struggled, his movements growing more frantic as the energy around him crackled and dissipated against the barrier.

“It’s working,” Tokoyami muttered, his sharp gaze never leaving the scene. “The containment field is absorbing his power.”

The villain let out a roar of frustration, the unstable quirk finally faltering as the energy arcs sputtered and faded. Dark Shadow released his hold, retreating to Tokoyami’s side as the villain slumped to the ground, his strength spent.

“Nice work, Fumikage!” Dark Shadow exclaimed, pumping a shadowy fist. “And you too, Yaomomo! Teamwork for the win!”

Tokoyami exhaled slowly, his posture relaxing slightly as he turned to Momo. “Excellent execution, Yaoyorozu. Your strategy was pivotal.”

Momo offered a faint smile, her hand pressed subtly against her injured side as she replied, “I couldn’t have done it without your coordination.”

Just as the villain was subdued, the sound of approaching sirens filled the air. The Pro Heroes and police finally made their way into the atrium, the paramedics trailing close behind. The earlier debris that had blocked their access had been cleared, and their arrival brought a sense of relief.

Best Jeanist strode into the scene, his imposing presence commanding attention as he surveyed the aftermath. “Report,” he said curtly, his sharp gaze landing on Tokoyami and Momo.

“The villain has been contained,” Tokoyami replied calmly, gesturing toward the shimmering barrier. “We neutralized his Quirk using Yaoyorozu’s device.”

Jeanist nodded, his expression unreadable. “Good work. We’ll take it from here.”

As the police moved to secure the villain and the paramedics began tending to injured civilians, one of the medics approached Momo, their gaze concerned. “Are you hurt, ma’am?”

Momo shook her head quickly, her posture perfectly composed. “I’m fine. Please focus on the civilians - they need you more.”

Tokoyami’s sharp eyes flicked to her, his brow furrowing slightly, but he said nothing for the moment. Instead, he turned to assist the medics in guiding the civilians outside, his quiet efficiency a stark contrast to the chaos they had just endured.

As the atrium began to clear and the situation settled, Tokoyami approached Momo, his tone low. “You’re not ‘fine,’ are you?”

Momo hesitated, her composure faltering slightly before she sighed. “It’s nothing serious,” she admitted quietly. “Just a minor injury.”

Tokoyami’s gaze softened, but there was a quiet intensity in his voice as he replied, “You pushed through it for the mission. Admirable, but reckless. Make sure you let the medics check you over once this is over.”

Momo nodded, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Thank you, Tokoyami. For everything.”

He inclined his head, his expression calm as he replied, “It was an honor to work alongside you.”

The chaos had finally subsided. With the villain subdued and the civilians evacuated safely, the mall atrium was now a controlled site filled with Pro Heroes, police, and medical personnel. But as the initial relief of victory began to settle, another familiar commotion reached Momo’s ears: the press.

Cameras flashed and reporters swarmed the periphery of the mall, their voices blending into a cacophony of questions and hurried commentary. Momo stood near one of the medics, who was still tending to her, her composure carefully maintained despite the dull ache in her side.

“Young Hero Creati!” one reporter called, pushing forward with a microphone. “How did you manage to contain the villain’s Quirk? Were you injured during the fight?”

Another voice chimed in, “We noticed your coordination with Dark Shadow - how crucial was teamwork to this operation?”

Momo raised her hand slightly, her voice calm but measured as she replied, “The safety of the civilians was our top priority. My partner and I worked together to ensure the threat was neutralized while minimizing further harm.”

Tokoyami stepped forward, his imposing presence quieting some of the reporters as he added, “Yaoyorozu’s strategic planning was instrumental. Her quick thinking made all the difference.”

The questions continued, but Jeanist's sharp voice cut through the noise, instructing the press to step back and allow the heroes to manage the aftermath. Momo let out a slow breath, grateful for the reprieve as the medics escorted her toward the waiting ambulance.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The fluorescent lights of the hospital room buzzed softly as Momo sat propped up in bed, a stack of books on the small table beside her. Her left side was bandaged tightly beneath the hospital gown, the aftereffects of surgery to remove debris and repair the damage caused by her injury. The stitches were a constant reminder of the battle, but Momo had taken solace in the knowledge that no civilians had been harmed.

Her recovery had been steady, though the enforced rest left her feeling restless. She glanced at the clock on the wall, her fingers brushing the edge of one of the books as she wondered when her next visitor would arrive.

The knock on the door was soft, but it pulled Momo’s attention immediately. “Come in,” she called, her voice steady but warm.

Shouto stepped into the room, his usual calm demeanor carrying a faint edge of worry as he approached her bedside. He held a small bouquet of flowers in one hand and a neatly wrapped package in the other. “Yaoyorozu,” he said quietly, his mismatched eyes scanning her carefully. “How are you feeling?”

Momo smiled faintly, her tone light as she replied, “Better than I was, thanks to the doctors and... a certain someone’s daily visits.”

Shouto’s lips twitched into a faint smile, and he set the flowers down on the table before offering her the package. “It’s nothing much,” he said, almost shyly. “Just something to help pass the time.”

Momo unwrapped the package carefully, revealing a beautifully bound notebook and a set of elegant pens. Her smile widened, a soft warmth spreading through her chest. “Thank you, Todoroki. This is... very thoughtful.”

He hesitated for a moment before sitting down in the chair beside her bed. “You should’ve told the medics about your injury sooner,” he said, his voice calm but laced with quiet concern. “Pushing through it like that - it wasn’t necessary.”

“I know,” Momo admitted softly, her gaze dropping briefly. “But at the time, there were more important things to focus on.”

“You were important too,” Shouto replied simply, his words carrying a weight that lingered in the air.

Not long after Shouto’s visit, a burst of energy entered the room as Kaminari and Sero practically bounded through the door, with Jirou trailing behind them at a more measured pace. Kaminari held a brightly wrapped box, while Sero carried a stack of magazines.

“Momo!” Kaminari exclaimed, his grin wide as he placed the box on her bedside table. “We brought you stuff to keep you from getting bored out of your mind.”

Sero chuckled, setting the magazines beside the box. “And snacks. Because hospital food? Not exactly gourmet.”

Jirou leaned against the foot of the bed, her expression warm as she smirked. “And I brought something that’s actually useful - a playlist of relaxing music. Figured you could use it.”

Momo laughed softly, her heart lifting at the sight of her friends. “Thank you. All of you. It’s so good to see you.”

The room filled with light conversation, Kaminari’s jokes and Sero’s easy banter blending with Jirou’s occasional sarcastic quips. Momo felt the weight of the battle and her recovery ease slightly as the warmth of their support surrounded her.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The hospital room was quiet, the hum of machines and faint murmur of the evening shift nurses the only sounds breaking the stillness. The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated the small space, its light spilling onto the neatly arranged books and notebooks Momo had been using to keep herself occupied.

She adjusted her position slightly, careful not to strain her stitched side, and let her gaze drift toward the window where the city lights shimmered faintly against the dark sky. Visiting hours had ended hours ago, and most of her friends had left with promises to return soon. She hadn’t expected any further company, and though the solitude was peaceful, it carried a faint weight of loneliness.

When the knock at the door came, her brows furrowed slightly in surprise. “Come in,” she called softly, her voice steady but curious.

The door opened slowly, and Shouto stepped inside, his expression calm but his mismatched eyes betraying a quiet determination. He carried a small bag in one hand, his gaze immediately scanning her before landing on the stack of books beside her bed.

“Todoroki,” Momo said, her tone tinged with surprise but warm. “Visiting hours have ended. How did you-”

He gave her a small nod, stepping closer as he set the bag down gently on the table. “I asked for permission,” he replied simply. “My father’s name surprisingly carries weight when it comes to certain requests.”

Momo blinked, her lips parting slightly as she processed his words. “You didn’t have to go to so much trouble…”

“I wanted to,” Shouto said quietly, his voice firm but softened by an undertone of sincerity. “I wanted to make sure you weren’t alone.”

Shouto settled into the chair beside her bed, his hands resting lightly on the arms as he allowed himself to relax slightly. The tension he’d carried throughout the day began to ease as he watched her, the faint pallor of her complexion a reminder of how much she’d endured during the battle.

“You’ve been pushing yourself too much lately,” he said, his tone calm but laced with quiet concern. “This isn’t the first time you’ve ignored your own well-being for the sake of others.”

Momo offered a faint smile, her gaze dropping to her hands. “It’s my responsibility to protect them. As heroes, that’s what we’re here to do.”

Shouto exhaled slowly, his mismatched eyes softening as he replied, “You don’t have to bear that responsibility alone. It’s why we work together - why teamwork matters.”

She looked at him, her lips curving into a small smile. “You’ve always been very straightforward, Todoroki.”

“It’s important,” he said simply, though his gaze lingered on her a moment longer than necessary. He cleared his throat, reaching into the bag he’d brought and pulling out a small thermos. “You didn’t eat much earlier, did you? This should be more appealing than the hospital’s food.”

Momo chuckled softly, her chest warming at the gesture as she accepted the thermos. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice sincere. “You’re very thoughtful.”

Shouto hesitated, his mind racing with thoughts he couldn’t quite put into words. “You deserve to be looked after too,” he said finally, his voice low but steady. “You’re always putting others first - it’s time someone does the same for you.”

As the evening deepened, their conversation drifted toward lighter topics, their voices mingling softly in the quiet room. Momo found herself relaxing in his presence, the warmth of his sincerity easing the lingering tension in her chest.

“You really didn’t have to go through so much trouble to stay,” she said at one point, her tone light but carrying a faint trace of gratitude.

Shouto’s lips quirked into the smallest of smiles, though his gaze remained steady. “I wanted to,” he repeated, his voice soft but resolute. “You’re important, Yaoyorozu.”

Momo felt her cheeks warm, and she turned her gaze away briefly, her fingers brushing against the edge of the thermos. “And you’ve been very kind. More than I deserve.”

Shouto frowned slightly at her words, his voice firm as he replied, “Don’t say that. You deserve every kindness and more.”

Their eyes met briefly, the unspoken weight of their connection lingering in the air. The quiet moment stretched, filled with a subtle tension that neither of them dared to break.

Chapter Text

In which the Press just loves Drama

(I suck at summaries in case you haven't figured that out by now)

Shouto Todoroki (轟とどろき焦しょう凍と Todoroki Shōto) - "I want it, too. I'll be a hero!"

Age - 19

Birthplace - (Near) Shizuoka Prefecture

Birthday - January 11th

Blood Type - O+

Physical Description - 6'0 1/4 and rather muscular and well-built for his age, stemming from his intense training as a child, with fairly tanned skin. His eyes, in shape, were thin and reserved, while being heterochromatic, left eye an icy turquoise while his right a steel gray and usually set in a neutral expression. His hair was slightly frazzled and mimicked the mismatching, the right locks chalk white and the left locks crimson red with a few small flecks white on the left and crimson on the right at the crown. It was grown out - to piss off his father - and tied back into a small, low, slightly messy, ponytail at the base of his neck, with his bangs falling to his mid-nose bridge and parted twice to avoid obscuring his vision. On the left side of his face was a burn scar from his hairline to halfway down his cheek from when he was a child, his mother had a lapse of sanity due to his father's abuse and threw a kettle of boiling water she had near her over her son's face. However, what scarred him was Rei attempting to soothe the burn using her Frost Quirk - though it's fading as he ages. He also had a small X-shaped burn at the center of his chest from using Phosphor excessively during his fight with Dabi without mastering it.

Personality Description - Cold, aloof, distant, and socially awkward. He closed himself off, not bothering to build friendships or connections with others, which stemmed from his abusive upbringing and complicated family life. However, after First Year's Sports Festival, he became somewhat sociable and kind, even gaining a sense of humor and occasionally smiling, although still retaining his distant attitude and nonchalant demeanor. While usually quiet, Shouto possessed a moderate level of arrogance inherited from his father, which, combined with his solitary tendencies, made him take the initiative without considering the opinions of others at times, displaying confidence that he could take on any obstacle with his strength. Shouto seemed to prefer acting alone, though he only did for practical purposes since it allowed him to unleash his full power without worrying about allies. Calm and composed yet brutal in combat, Shouto was well-grounded on ethics, since defeating his oldest brother, Touya/Dabi, while some of his awkward character remained, he became more laid back and made a name for himself as a hardworking hero who treated all his fans equally and with respect. Just as he always wanted, Shouto became his own hero, with people thinking less and less of him as Endeavor's son. Touya had only been given a few years and could only talk for a few minutes a day, however, he'd defied the odds and made a full recovery. Now, Touya had gone through rehab at Fujitani Hospital and was now back with his family. Enji retired from Hero Work to spend all his time making amends for his actions. Shouto once had a deep loathing for his fire abilities, which he inherited from Endeavor, as it symbolized his father's wickedness towards him and his mother as well as what he was born to be: a tool to surpass All Might, a fate that he detested. Shouto often felt bothered by Enji's mere presence and could barely contain his anger while talking to him, especially whenever the Pro Hero brought up the purpose he had intended for his son since before birth. Ironically though, Shouto's animosity towards his father made him more like how Endeavor was, being apathetic and indifferent towards others while obsessively focusing on his own goal of rejecting his father. Shouto was quite reflective of his own growth, due to this, he was not against his father trying to make amends with his family and become a better person, knowing from experience that a single thing can change a person if they allow it to. However, Shouto's grudge towards Enji had not yet disappeared, self-admitting that such resentment can't vanish so easily and that he was wrong in trying to bury it. He remained relatively cold towards Enji and had made it clear that forgiveness for his past treatment of him and his mother was difficult but has also demonstrated worry about his father's safety. Ever since Enji tried to repair his relationship with his family, Shouto had taken a cautious, yet hopeful approach to this development, not seeming against the possibility of forgiving his father; however, he made it clear to Endeavor that he must earn it.

Quirk - Half-Cold-Half-Hot; Gave him the ability to generate ice from the right side of his body, and flames from his left side. If he overused one element without utilizing the other, then his body temperature would suffer; the ice half would cause frostbite and the fire half would cause heatstroke. Until his bodily limit was reached, however, neither had any visible effect. Shouto could easily negate this weakness by alternating between ice and fire. Further development of his Quirk and mastery over his fire had allowed Shouto to combine both halves into a 'cold fire', making use of his circulatory system to move the hot and cold blood around his body, merging the fire and ice into one ability - which he called Phosphor. This gave Shouto immunity to heat-based Quirks, as well as improved offensive capabilities, especially against those with such Quirks. However, this way of using his Quirk required a certain level of concentration to maintain it; otherwise, it would falter and dissipate.

School - U.A. High

Occupation - Hero-in-Training

Also Known As - The Frozen-Fire Hero; Shouto

Hero Chart Ranking - UNRANKED

Hero Costume - A navy blue heat-resistant jacket with elbow-length sleeves, it was collar high, with a cooling/heating device within it, and joined in the center by a gray neckpiece while featuring a large gray-blue T-shaped stripe going from his waist to his armpits. Baggy pants of the same color as his jacket, a metal-plated tactical vest that functioned as both a heater and radiator. White boots with soles equipped with spikes and a thin line running down the center of each of them a darker pale gray. He also sported a brown utility belt around his waist, which could hold eight little metal capsules containing medical supplies hanging off. He also wore two burgundy wrist guards with armor-like bracing, accompanied by plating from his wrist to his knuckles, which could store up heat and cold to help condense his power.

Fighting Specialty - Ranged Combat

Favorite Food - Zaru Soba

Other Facts(Headcanons) - His hair was soft yet two different textures, the white thin while the red held more volume and was fairly fluffy. His hands were calloused from training, yet gentle. He smelled like smoke, sage, and hint of peppermint. His favorite fruit was blackberries. When Shouto was mad, his right side activated subconsciously, lowering the temperature in the room, when he was flustered, his flames subconsciously activated.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

Momo Yaoyorozu (八や百お万よろず百もも Yaoyorozu Momo) - "We've got to start at the bottom and work up! And if we don't earnestly cheer each other on... We'll never be great heroes!"

Age - 19

Birthplace - Aichi Prefecture

Birthday - September 23rd

Blood Type - A-

Physical Description - 5'11 with a mature physique, her hair was raven black, tied into a spiky ponytail with a large strand hanging on the right side of her face. Her skin was a pale porcelain, and her eyes were big yet sharp, colored onyx, paired with short eyebrows often set in a stern expression. She had a scar on her left temple that went to her upper cheek from the Forest Training Camp ambush by the L.o.V First Year.

Personality Description - Prudent, dedicated, levelheaded, calm, kind, polite, and relatively innocent yet reserved. She wasn't one to initiate a friendship, due to past experiences of only being used for her money, status, or looks. However, once you truly got to know her, she was this warm, bright, energetic, and upbeat person who loved to spend time with and help out her friends as well as those in need. Though she often wears a mask of perfection, compartmentalizing her emotions and opting to help others through their struggles without acknowledging her own.

Quirk - Creation; Gave her the ability to create any non-living material/object from her exposed skin by transforming the molecular structure of her fat cells. To create something, she needed to understand the molecular structure of what the material/object is made of. The more Momo ate, the more material she had to work with, so she needed considerable food ingestion for her Quirk to be effective. However, it took her a more extended period and more skin exposure to create large objects. This aspect of Momo's Quirk is likely the reason for her slim figure, as she constantly burned her fat to create objects. This was also a significant weakness because if she generated too much without replacing her calories, she could become weak and anemic.

School - U.A. High

Occupation - Hero-in-Training

Also Known As - The Everything Hero; Creati

Hero Chart Ranking - UNRANKED

Hero Costume - An open back high-collared, sleeveless crimson leotard with silver lines at her waist and around her arms. It covered her entire torso yet had a boob window. Her high-collared red cape over her costume with a ring around her neck and a large red gemstone at her throat that used to be exclusively for her winter costume she now wore all the time, modifying the material to be comfortable and suitable in all weather conditions. She had crimson leggings - the side thigh being open and outlined in silver as she can only use her Quirk with exposed skin - and a gold utility belt around her waist. The book she used to carry - what her mother dubbed the 'Yaoyorictionary' - on composition information, was now converted into a watch, making it more convenient. She wore her sports calf-length red boots with heels, which dipped sharply down in the center. The collar of the boots was lined with silver, while there was a gold hexagonal outline on the back of the shaft of the boot from just below the collar to the ankle, and the sole of the boot was black.

Fighting Specialty - Close & Support Combat

Favorite Food (Headcanon) - Gyoza

Fun Facts (Headcanons) - Momo had a somewhat casual, natural, and non-lewd view toward nudity, she also had very little self-preservation and fidgeted when she was nervous or anxious. Due to past experiences, there are very few men outside her family Momo trusted. Her hands were rougher than expected from training, but still soft. She smelled like vanilla, roses, and a hint of cherry blossom. Her favorite fruit was strawberries. She needed to eat twice a normal person to maintain a healthy weight due to her Quirk and already fast metabolism, she also wore contacts - but only for reading. When Momo was overly embarrassed, nervous, or flustered her Quirk activated subconsciously and Russian Matryoshka Dolls popped out from her arms.

Other Facts (My AU) - As a child she wasn't allowed outside the property gate unless 'absolutely necessary', and while the Yaoyorozu Estate took up a whole street line worth of houses, it got boring. Momo couldn't interact with other kids; she didn't have friends. All she had were her studies and lessons. Everything was planned out for her since before she was born. She didn't get an opinion, a say, or an option for what she did or didn't do. Momo's mother, Hidoi, was strict, neglectful, and emotionally abusive. However, she was also extremely possessive of her daughter, controlling every aspect of Momo's life. Momo's father, Zankoku, barely came out of his office. For the public, he put on a charming act but really, he was cold and unforgiving. He always threatened Momo with violence, and at first, she called his bluff, but he stayed true to his word one day when Momo said too many words and ended up with multiple injuries. Her mother took a more phycological punishment, locking Momo in what she called her 'Thinking Room' which was the one untouched room of the house that was cramped, dark, and dirty - this led to Momo developing mild claustrophobia. Momo was primarily raised and cared for by her aunt (Hanta's mom). Her aunt, Ichigo Sero, was the one to introduce her to hero work and allow her to take Bōjutsu and Kenjutsu - without Momo's parents' knowledge. Ichigo was also the one to send Momo's application to U.A. and was the reason why Momo acted nothing like her parents. Momo's aunt was such a mother figure to her that she called her 'mom' whenever her parents aren't around.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

Izuku Midoriya (緑みどり谷や出いず久く Midoriya Izuku) - "It's not all black-and-white. Most things in this world are in shades of gray. A blend of fear and anger. Which is exactly why... I've gotta extend a helping hand!"

Age - 19

Birthplace - (Near) Shizuoka Prefecture

Birthday - July 15th

Blood Type - O-

Physical Description - 5'7 1/4 with a round face framed by a mop of fluffy dark-green hair grown out in a mullet which curled up at odd angles around his head, casting noticeably dark shadows onto itself and was parted slightly to the right. His eyes were large and somewhat circular, and his irises were emerald green, which at times are very watery, and are usually stretched quite wide, giving him an innocent, energized appearance. He had a set of four symmetrical freckles in diamond formations, one on each cheek. Izuku had often been described as "plain-looking" or "not standing out" by others. He had developed and defined muscles, the fingers on his right hand slightly deformed, and his hand showed visible scarring. His right arm was further damaged after his intense fight, leaving many more scars. Following his recovery after the previously mentioned fight, Izuku wears a black compression sleeve on the upper portion of his right arm in order to support the heavy damage it sustained: it is partially visible when he wears short sleeves. He had two face scars, one on the right side of his head, and the other below his right eye spreading down his cheek and reaching his chin.

Personality Description - A very timid, reserved, and polite boy, frequently overreacting to abnormal situations with exaggerated expressions. Due to yeаrs of being looked down on by Katsuki Bakugou for lacking a Quirk, he is initially portrayed as insecure, tearful, vulnerable, and non-expressive. These traits were especially present around Katsuki, who also constantly harangued him for his aspirations to become a hero. However, after being accepted into U.A., making new friends, and facing Katsuki, Izuku gradually matured into a more confident and braver person who was always eager to prove his worth as a hero, eventually developing strong leadership skills, which combined with his passion and strategic abilities, had turned him into a central figure. Izuku was a quite diligent and strong-willed student, being extremely (and sometimes scarily) enthusiastic about topics related to heroes. His dream drove him to write down notes about everything he learns about heroes' Quirks and fighting capabilities. Thanks to this practice, Izuku had developed a great analytical mind and can form complex battle plans in a few seconds, factoring in the best ways he could utilize the Quirks of allies and enemies alike for his own advantage. Izuku externalizes his observations through endless mumbling, a habit that annoyed or creeped out his peers. Izuku often wrote down his observations in a variety of notebooks. He checked on them regularly during school activities, during his free time, or at night. Izuku was caring and emotional, never hesitating to help or rescue someone in danger, even if he knew that he might not be strong or otherwise qualified enough to do it. Often, he did this on instinct, taking a more careless approach than the usual overthinking he goes through and putting himself in peril in order to protect someone.

Quirk - One for All; Transferred to him from Toshinori Yagi, Izuku's Quirk allowed him to stockpile an enormous amount of raw power, allowing him to significantly enhance all of his physical abilities to various boundless levels. This resulted in unbelievable levels of strength, speed, stamina, agility, and durability. When Izuku activated One for All, red, vein-like lines course throughout the empowered part of his body. Izuku could focus the stockpiled power into a single body part, or spread it across his entire body evenly, though, focusing the power in a single part puts a greater strain on that part of his body. He was also able to control what percentage of his full power that he uses. Since he was not born with this power, his body was not naturally suited to handle it, however, over time and with continued training with it, his body has become more accustomed to bracing for the strain. He was able to handle 45% of his full power without breaking his bones, with 30% being his normal output. In addition to the stockpiling power, Izuku also had access to a subconscious realm where vestiges of the consciousnesses of the previous One For All holders dwell. These vestiges could trigger Izuku to activate One For All without any conscious input from himself, as seen when he was under the control of Hitoshi's Quirk and illusionary shadows of these echoes appeared in his vision. Izuku had little to no control over this aspect of One For All, being unable to freely enter or exit, his body not being fully materialized, which limited his movement within the realm, and only being able to talk through muffled sounds since his mouth has not fully manifested yet. However, Izuku had reached the point where he can freely communicate with the vestiges of the previous users while still conscious. Izuku is the first holder of One for All known to have gained access to this realm while still alive. Izuku was granted access to the Quirks of the previous owners of One for All, but he has since transferred someof them to Tomura in an effort to defeat him. This left him with only Blackwhip, Smokescreen, and Float, having transferred Gearshift, Fa Jin, and Denger Sense.

School - U.A. High

Occupation - Hero-in-Training

Also Known As - The Peace-Symbol Hero; Deku

Hero Chart Ranking - UNRANKED

Hero Costume - Created by Melissa Shield and Mei using data collected from All Might's against All for One; funded by members of Class A and gifted to him by All Might, Izuku receives a new technology-based Hero costume that looks markedly like his Costume Zeta, albeit more mechanical. This costume can be stored as a briefcase that is marked with the number 18, Izuku's seat number when he was a student.

Fighting Specialty - Close and Ranged Combat

Favorite Food - Katsudon

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

Hanta Sero (瀬せ呂ろ範はん太た Sero Hanta) - "Unlike some of you, my life wasn't full of wild highs and tragic lows. All I had pushing me forward was, like, not wanting to fall behind on the next practical exam, or whatever. And y'know... it's been some tough times, for him. The guy used to look all zonked-out and empty! Anyone'd be better off... not going through all that miserable, tragic crap!"

Age:   19

Birthplace - Tokyo

Birthday -  July 28th

Blood type -  B-

Physical Description  -  A tall, lean young man with chin-length black hair spiked downwards, with jagged bangs coming about halfway down his forehead. He had almond-shaped eyes, usually stretched quite broad and rather large, with small pupils and straight teeth that dominate his grin; however, according to Katsuki Bakugou and Present Mic he had a rather plain face. His elbows had the shape of cylindrical tape dispensers, from which he fires his Tape Quirk.

Personality Description - Amicable and had proven to be one of the more sociable members of Class A. He could sometimes be loud and showy, often trying to impress his peers with his Quirk. He was often the only person to call his classmates out when they acted crazy. He was pretty humorous and usually made jokes with his friends. However, when push came to shove, Hanta was a brave Pro Hero who wished to prosper on his own while helping others do the same. He made friends with those around him and was shown to be a very laid-back guy. Hanta could keep up his confidence and make an effort, even when he believed the odds were stacked heavily against him. Hanta had a teasing side that he showed on occasion, even towards the high-tempered Katsuki Bakugou, as he was seen jeering at him along with Minoru Mineta for not cleaning their dorms windowsills properly. He could also be one to speak his mind and at times insult others without meaning to. Though not openly flirtatious like Denki or Minoru, Hanta still had some interest in girls. This was primarily seen during the Provisional License Exam when Izuku informed him of the girl who transformed into a clone of Ochako; he started violently shaking Izuku and asking him if she was naked then as well. Later, he informed Denki and Minoru of what happened with Izuku and 'Camie', proving that he also had a habit of spreading gossip.

Quirk -  Tape; He had tape dispenser-like organs in his elbows, from which he could shoot long cellophane tape-like strips; he could also retract them. They appeared to be somewhat sturdier than regular tape. Overuse of his Quirk would cause his skin to dry out. He could use his tape to wrap people, swing long distances, and create traps, among other applications.

School - U.A. High

Occupation - Hero-in-Training

Also Known As - The Taping Hero; Cellophane

Hero Chart Ranking - UNRANKED

Hero Costume - A black, skin-tight bodysuit with a turtleneck, plain apart from a white design on his mid-torso area, and two yellow trimmings around each of his elbow-length sleeves. He wore white boots lined with yellow and had short white bands around his waist and the sides of his thighs, a larger one across his chest to connect his shoulder pads, shaped like tape dispensers. He completed his outfit with a yellow helmet, shaped similarly to his shoulder pads, with a sizeable black visor obscuring his face.

Fighting Specialty - Ranged& Support Combat

Favorite Food (Headcanon) - Oranges and Soy Products

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

Denki Kaminari (上かみ鳴なり電でん気き Kaminari Denki) - "Don't waste your breath. Costumes? Check. On the scene? Check. That makes us heroes!"

Age - 19

Birthplace - Saitama Prefecture

Birthday -  June 29th

Blood type - O-

Physical Description  -  Had almost shoulder-length gold hair, parted to the right with a black lightning-shaped streak on the left of his side fringe, which is angled to partially obscure his left eye. He had slanted, somewhat triangular golden eyes and notably small eyebrows. He was slimmer than most male students in his class, with little visible muscle mass. During the Paranormal Liberation War, Denki gained a scar on his upper left forehead following his injury from Mr. Compress' attack, although his hair covered it rather well.

Personality Description - A friendly, social, and energetic boy who enjoyed hanging out with others. He was rather casual when interacting with other people, including the generally unfriendly Katsuki Bakugou, although he was not above petty complaining or overreacting if he felt annoyed or shocked enough. Denki may come off as blunt and reckless at times but was always well-meaning. He encouraged others to be themselves and become more comfortable doing what they like. Denki was somewhat flirtatious towards the girls in and out of his class, sometimes accompanying Minoru Mineta on his schemes and trying to pass himself off as a smooth talker. He was not very lucky with his approaches, though, frequently having his advances ignored or outright rejected by those he asked out. Denki was also a bit of a jokester and sometimes teased others with playful comments. Overall, Denki was interested in appearing cool and trendy to impress people but had a shallow understanding of how to do so correctly. Denki could be more academically bright, requiring massive help with studying due to his general disinterest and neglect of school duties. He did not appear to pay much attention in classes, got quickly bored from lectures, and suffered anxiety attacks when dealing with tests, at which point he became increasingly agitated and aggressive. Frequently showing a lack of tact and smarts in and outside of school, Denki may give off the impression of being stupid or foolish, leading others to throw snide remarks at him, especially Kyouka Jirou, or underestimate his capabilities as a hero. Denki became distraught when put into stressful situations, appearing spineless and incompetent to foes and allies alike. During combat, he was swift to panic and may accidentally activate his Quirk in the face of imminent danger, leaving himself vulnerable. He became more reluctant to use his full power when there were allies close to him, being afraid of hurting them through collateral damage from his explosive bolts. He became more confident in his fighting abilities when he was assured that all his allies will be safe from his powers. He didn't tolerate others looking down on him and his classmates, and would defend them if necessary. Whenever Denki exceeded his wattage limit, he lost his ability to discharge energy, with his entire personality changing into that of a giggling idiot for a certain period until he reverted to normal. In this state, he was always giving thumbs-ups as a way to let others know that he was okay.

Quirk -  Electrification;  Allowed him to store electricity and discharge it allowing him to cover his body in it. While he could also discharge this energy over a distance, Denki had little to no control over it, meaning it would go everywhere indiscriminately. Exceeding his wattage limit caused his brain to short-circuit, leaving him in a vulnerable state for 1 hour. Denki was also able to absorb and neutralize electricity and other lightning-based Quirks.

School - U.A. High

Occupation - Hero-in-Training

Also Known As - The Stun-Gun Hero; Chargebolt

Hero Chart Ranking - UNRANKED

Hero Costume - A plain white shirt, over which he wore an open black jacket with two white lightning patterns near the hem and collar, and a yellow-rimmed white lightning bolt around each of his shoulders, with matching pants a small white zig-zag near each of their cuffs and brown shoes. He had a single, square-shaped earphone over his right ear, resembling a radio antenna sticking out of the top and a lightning-bolt extension on the left. He wore a white belt that held his pointer ammo with and a white V-neck shirt. Around his right wrist, he wore a wristband with a circular mechanism from which he could shoot disc-shaped Pointers, which aided him in aiming his Quirk. He also wore a black choker with a silver buckle on the left side and a headset with a blue-tinted visor.

Fighting Specialty - Close & Support Combat

Favorite Food - Hamburgers

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

Kyouka Jirou (耳じ郎ろう響きょう香か Jirō Kyōka) - "You wanna talk... about being scared? Or strong? Or weak? Or 'special'? Well, I don't give a crap! You hear me? Screw all that! My problem is that you're the one... who made my pals cry!!"

Age - 19

Birthplace - Shizuoka Prefecture

Birthday -  August 1st

Blood type -  A+

Physical Description  -  A petite, fair-skinned girl with a slender build. She had triangular onyx eyes with notably long lower eyelashes and small eyebrows. Her dark-purple hair is shoulder-length, with an asymmetrical fringe that had two reflections shaped like sound waves on either side. Her most prominent features were the flexible, plug-like earphone jacks hanging from each of her earlobes; they acted like extra limbs that she was able to control at will and change their length if so desired. Following the Paranormal Liberation War, she gained a small scar on her right earphone jack. During the Final War, her left ear and earphone jack were blown off by All for One.  Shortly after the Final War, Kyouka wore a prosthetic in place of her left ear and earphone jack.

Personality Description - A pragmatic, unenthusiastic, blunt, and teasing personality that was mostly shown to those she found irritating, like her fellow classmate Denki Kaminari, whose cluelessness made him an easy target for her snarky comments. Kyouka was not always like this though, as she did enjoy socializing with others, in which case she was usually nice and friendly, most notably with Mina Ashido and the other girls in her class. Kyouka often gesticulated through her elongated earlobes in place of her hands. She could also be quite aggressive, evidenced by when she used the Earphone Jacks her Quirk provided, to physically punish people when provoked or to keep them in line, most notably Denki and Minoru. During hero activities, however, Kyouka prefered smarter approaches, usually by coming up with a plan herself. She was surprisingly organized and made sure to convey her ideas in a way that was easy to understand. Despite the fact that she came off as cold and indifferent, Kyouka also had a much more sensitive side, being very defensive towards her friends, empathetic with others' feelings, and getting flustered when her talents and capabilities are brought up. While Kyouka was hard to unnerve or surprise, she was afraid of horror-based activities and had an aversion to nudity. She was a bit self-conscious about her looks and style as well, becoming noticeably upset when she was not seen as attractive by Minoru, and attacking Denki and Yuuga Aoyama for commenting that her dorm room was 'unladylike'. Like her parents, Kyouka had a major interest in rock music and owned several instruments which she was able to play to some extent. However, she seemed to be somewhat embarrassed about her interests at first, because she perceived them as completely unrelated to heroism, but thanks to a great presentation during the U.A. School Festival, she was able to outgrow that mindset.

Quirk -  Earphone Jack;  She had a pair of headphone jacks hanging from her earlobes. When the jacks were plugged into something, Kyouka could channel the sound of her heartbeat through them in the form of a violent vibration attack. She could stretch her earlobes several meters. This Quirk also allowed her to hear minuscule sounds and vibrations from her surroundings.

School - U.A. High

Occupation - Hero-in-Training

Also Known As - The Hearing Hero; Earphone Jack

Hero Chart Ranking - UNRANKED

Hero Costume - Consisted of a black leather jacket, long salmon-colored shirt with several rips at the collar and hem, black pants, and boots with stereos built into their shafts. She also had a set of headphones with two bracelets that double up as her amplifiers and face paint to two larger chevron-shaped marks. 

Fighting Specialty - Close & Support Combat

Favorite Food (Headcanon) - Sukiyaki

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬:

TodoMomo/CreaShou - Shouto Todoroki x Momo Yaoyorozu

Relationship Type: Mutual Feelings

Relationship Status: Dense

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

IzuOcha/DekuRavity - Izuku Midoriya x Ochako Uraraka

Relationship Type: Mutual Feelings

Relationship Status: Awkward

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

KiriMina/PinkyRiot - Eijirou Kirishima x Mina Ashido

Relationship Type: Dating

Relationship Status: Flourishing

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

KamiJirou/ChargeJack - Denki Kaminari x Kyouka Jirou

Relationship Type: Dating

Relationship Status: Rockin'

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

MashiTooru/InvisibleTail - Mashirao Ojiro x Tooru Hagakure

Relationship Type: Dating

Relationship Status: Surprisingly Chill

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

TokoTsu(yu)/TsukuRoppy - Fumikage Tokoyami x Tsuyu (Tsu) Asui

Relaionship Type: Dating

Relationship Status: Calm

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

SeroSetsu/LizardPhane - Hanta Sero x Setsuna Tokage

Relationship Type: Dating

Relationship Status: Pieced Together

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

TetsuKendou/BattleSteel - Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu x Itsuka Kendou

Relationship Type: Dating

Relationship Status: Thriving

Chapter Text

The chill of late autumn had settled over the U.A. campus, the crisp air brimming with quiet energy as students went about their daily routines. Momo stood in the simulation room, her gloves snug on her hands as she tightened the strap on her utility belt. The familiar hum of the training mechanisms filled the space, and for the first time in weeks, she felt the rush of anticipation in her chest—a spark of the drive that had always fueled her efforts.

Her recovery had been steady but challenging. The stitches had been removed days ago, and though her side still ached faintly when she moved too quickly, the doctors had cleared her to begin light training. But this wasn’t just about regaining her strength. This was about reclaiming her place among her peers - and proving, once and for all, that her potential was boundless.

The mall fight had left an impression on everyone, but it had also reignited a fire within her - a determination to show not only herself, but her mentors, what she was truly capable of. All Might and Aizawa-Sensei had always been cautious in their evaluations of her, and though their intentions were rooted in concern, Momo couldn’t help but feel the weight of their underestimation.

She adjusted her gloves, her gaze sharp as she prepared to activate the simulation. “I’ll show them,” she murmured softly to herself. “I’ll show everyone.”

The simulation room transformed into a sprawling urban landscape, the holographic projections so detailed that they might as well have been real. Momo moved swiftly through the environment, her Quirk activating in tandem with her strategy. She created barriers, decoys, and tools with practiced ease, her movements fluid despite the faint ache in her side.

The scenario escalated, introducing multiple threats at once, and Momo’s mind raced as she calculated her next move. A distraction to split their focus. A shield to protect herself. A countermeasure to neutralize their attacks. Each action was deliberate, her quirk responding seamlessly to her commands.

By the time the simulation ended, the holographic threats neutralized, Momo stood at the center of the scene, her chest rising and falling with steady breaths. Her gloves were scuffed, her cape slightly askew, but her expression was resolute.

Unbeknownst to Momo, Aizawa-Sensei had been observing her session from the control room. His sharp eyes followed her every move, noting the precision of her quirk usage and the composure she maintained throughout the exercise.

“She’s pushing herself,” he remarked quietly, his tone thoughtful rather than critical. “But she’s grown. Her confidence is finally catching up to her capabilities.”

All Might stood beside him, his brows furrowed as he observed the screen. “She’s always been talented,” he admitted. “But... perhaps we’ve underestimated just how much drive she has to grow beyond our expectations.”

Aizawa nodded slightly, his expression unreadable. “She’s proving it now. Let’s see how far she can go.”

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

After the session, Momo returned to the common room, her cape neatly folded over one arm. Her classmates were gathered, their chatter filling the space as they shared stories from their day. Kaminari waved enthusiastically, and Jirou gave her a small nod from the couch where she sat tuning her headphones.

“Back at it already?” Midoriya asked, his tone both impressed and concerned.

Momo smiled faintly, her voice calm but firm as she replied, “There’s always work to be done. I can’t afford to fall behind.”

Bakugou snorted from across the room, his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. “You’re not falling behind, Yaomomo. But keep pushing like that, and you’re gonna end up back in the hospital.”

“I appreciate the concern,” Momo said gently, though her gaze was resolute. “But this is something I have to do.”

Her classmates exchanged looks, a quiet understanding passing between them. They knew better than to argue - Momo’s determination was unshakable.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The sun filtered through the tall glass windows of U.A.’s training facility as Momo stood at the edge of the simulated cityscape, her crimson cape fluttering gently in the breeze created by the environmental system. Today’s Practical Training was focused on time-sensitive rescue operations combined with defensive combat—elements designed to push students to react swiftly and think critically under pressure.

Momo adjusted her gloves, her eyes scanning the scenario ahead. Wrecked buildings lined the simulated streets, scattered with holographic civilians crying out for help amidst holographic "villains" patrolling the area. Her teammates for this session had already been assigned, and though it wasn’t uncommon for her to take a leadership role, today she had decided to approach things differently - she would work as a team member, focusing on executing strategies rather than leading.

As the simulation began, Momo moved quickly through the rubble-strewn streets, her sharp gaze analyzing the layout. A civilian’s holographic cries drew her attention, and she immediately crafted a collapsible stretcher to assist them. Her movements were precise but efficient, her mind racing as she balanced the demands of rescuing civilians and staying aware of potential threats.

“Yaoyorozu, over here!” Midoriya called, waving her toward a crumbling building where a group of civilians was trapped. “We need a way to stabilize the structure before we can get them out.”

Momo nodded sharply, her Quirk activating as she began crafting reinforced steel beams. “Midoriya, clear the entrance first. I’ll secure the structure - it’ll hold long enough to get them out safely.”

As Midoriya went to work, Momo carefully positioned the beams, her gloved hands moving with practiced ease. Her cape brushed against the ground as she knelt to adjust the placement, her focus unwavering despite the faint ache in her side - a lingering reminder of her recent recovery.

As the exercise progressed, Momo found herself engaged in close combat with one of the holographic villains. She crafted a bō staff, her movements fluid as she deflected the incoming strikes. Each motion was deliberate, her strategy unfolding seamlessly as she anticipated her opponent’s moves.

“Impressive work, Yaoyorozu,” Aizawa-Sensei’s voice crackled through the intercom, his tone neutral but carrying a subtle edge of approval.

Momo straightened as the simulation wound down, the faintest smile tugging at her lips. The training wasn’t perfect - there were areas she knew needed refinement—but it was another step forward, another moment proving to herself and her instructors that she was more than capable.

From the observation deck above the training facility, Aizawa watched the session unfold, his arms crossed as his sharp eyes followed Momo’s every movement. He’d always been aware of her potential, but there had been times—especially early in her first year—when he’d questioned how much of that potential she truly believed in herself.

“That injury hasn’t slowed her down,” All Might remarked from beside him, his brows furrowed as he observed the simulation. “She’s maintaining an impressive level of focus.”

Aizawa nodded slightly, his expression unreadable. “She’s driven. That’s not new. What’s new is how she’s channeling it. She’s more tactical now, more willing to adapt her approach instead of relying solely on textbook strategies.”

All Might glanced at him, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “It seems the mall fight lit a fire under her.”

“It did,” Aizawa agreed, his tone thoughtful. “But it also reminded her - and us - of what she’s capable of. She’s not just rising to the occasion. She’s setting the standard.”

His gaze shifted back to the simulation, where Momo was now coordinating with Midoriya to evacuate the remaining civilians. There was a fluidity to her movements, a quiet confidence that spoke volumes about the progress she’d made - not just physically, but mentally.

“She’s got a ways to go,” Aizawa continued, his voice quiet but firm. “But if she keeps this up, she’ll surpass every expectation.”

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The training field was a stark contrast to the controlled environment of the simulation rooms - wide open spaces, uneven terrain, and a simulated earthquake scenario meant to test the adaptability of the students. Momo stood on higher ground, her crimson cape shifting with the breeze as she observed her teammates scatter across the chaotic setup. Her clipboard—a tool she had requested to help keep track of rescue points - was in one hand as her sharp eyes followed their movements.

“Midoriya, don’t overextend,” she called firmly, her voice cutting through the noise as she noticed him darting toward a distant point. “You’ll lose sight of the civilians nearest to you. Focus on managing the immediate threats first.”

Midoriya flinched slightly but nodded, adjusting his path toward a group of simulated civilians trapped near a collapsed structure. Momo’s gaze shifted to Kaminari, who had taken it upon himself to assist with clearing debris.

“Kaminari,” she said, her tone measured but direct as she approached. “Your Quirk isn’t suited for this kind of task. You’re expending too much energy needlessly. Focus on crowd control instead—it’s a better use of your abilities.”

Kaminari blinked, his expression a mix of sheepishness and realization. “Oh, uh... right. Got it, Momo.”

She gave him a brief nod before turning back to the field, her attention shifting to Jirou and Sero, who were coordinating efforts to stabilize a crumbling overhang. Their teamwork was solid, but there was room for improvement.

“Jirou, Hanta,” she said as she approached, her voice steady but carrying an edge of critique. “Your setup is effective, but it lacks redundancy. If one of your anchors gives way, the entire structure will collapse. I’d recommend reinforcing it with additional supports.”

Jirou arched a brow, her expression bordering on defensive. “A little blunt there, aren’t you, Momo?”

“It’s a necessary observation,” Momo replied matter-of-factly, though her lips twitched faintly, betraying the hint of a smile. “Your solution is good, but it could be better. That’s what we’re here for, isn’t it?”

From the observation tower overlooking the training field, Aizawa leaned against the railing, his sharp gaze fixed on Momo as she continued to direct and evaluate her teammates. Her tone was steady, her instructions precise, and while her comments were occasionally blunt, they were always constructive.

“She’s stepping into a leadership role again,” All Might remarked beside him, his tone thoughtful. “But there’s something different this time. She’s more... direct.”

Aizawa nodded, his expression unreadable. “She’s focusing on efficiency. The mall fight reminded her that hesitation has a cost. She’s compensating for that by being as straightforward as possible.”

“Do you think it’s too much?” All Might asked, his brows furrowed slightly. “Her critiques are sharp - it could alienate her teammates if she’s not careful.”

“She’ll find the balance,” Aizawa replied simply. “Yaoyorozu has always been self-aware. If she pushes too far, she’ll adjust. What matters is that she’s taking charge - and doing it well.”

As Momo moved to assist Tokoyami with crafting a pulley system for a simulated rescue, Aizawa’s lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile. “She’s not just meeting expectations anymore,” he murmured. “She’s exceeding them.”

The training concluded with the simulated civilians safely evacuated and all hazards neutralized. Momo stood at the edge of the field, her clipboard tucked neatly under her arm as she reviewed her notes. Her critique of the team had been thorough, her observations detailed and to the point. But as she glanced at her teammates, she caught the flicker of mixed emotions in their expressions—respect, understanding, but also a touch of frustration.

Taking a steady breath, Momo approached Kaminari, Jirou, and Sero, her posture as composed as ever. “I appreciate your efforts today,” she said, her tone softening slightly. “If my comments came across as harsh, I apologize. It wasn’t my intention to discourage you - only to help us improve.”

Jirou crossed her arms, her expression still faintly skeptical but ultimately understanding. “You’re just saying what needs to be said, huh?”

“Exactly,” Momo replied, her lips curving into a small smile. “I trust all of you to do the same for me when necessary.”

Kaminari grinned, his easygoing nature shining through as he waved a hand dismissively. “Nah, it’s all good, Momo. You’re the brains of the operation - we get it.”

As the group began to disperse, Momo allowed herself a brief moment of quiet reflection. She was finding her stride again, but there was still so much to learn, so much to refine. And as she glanced toward Aizawa-Sensei and All Might observing from the tower, she felt a renewed sense of determination.

Aizawa stood in the corner of the observation deck, his arms crossed as his sharp eyes tracked the movements of his students below. The rescue exercise had shifted into its third phase, adding environmental hazards and escalating the stakes for the participants. His gaze settled on Yaoyorozu, watching as she directed her classmates with a precision and focus that had become more pronounced in recent weeks.

She moved methodically, crafting tools and coordinating efforts with the efficiency of someone who had spent hours, if not days, strategizing. Her crimson cape trailed behind her as she knelt to stabilize a crumbling structure, her expression composed and unreadable.

“She’s cutting through distractions,” Aizawa thought, his lips pressing into a thin line. “But she’s also distancing herself.”

Below, Momo was addressing Bakugou, her tone as even as ever but edged with a sharper bluntness than Aizawa had seen before. “If you focus solely on overwhelming the threat, Bakugou, you’ll miss the civilians caught in the crossfire. Adapt your approach or risk collateral damage.”

Bakugou scowled, his hands sparking faintly. “I know what I’m doing, Ponytail,” he barked, though he pivoted to assist Kaminari with reinforcing the barricade.

“She’s not wrong,” Aizawa murmured under his breath. “But her delivery... it’s changing.”

Aizawa hadn’t missed the gradual shifts in Yaoyorozu’s demeanor. The self-doubt that had once clouded her actions during their first year was being replaced by an unwavering focus. Her tone was more direct, her words less padded by politeness, and while she remained courteous, there was an unapologetic edge to her critiques that had not been there before.

'She’s reverting,' Aizawa pondered. 'Or rather, she’s returning to the seriousness she had when she first arrived at U.A. - before the weight of public perception started to wear on her. But now, it’s tempered by experience. Calculated. Intentional.'

There was a distinct duality to it. On one hand, her ability to lead and strategize had reached new heights, her confidence growing as her successes accumulated. But on the other, her reserved nature had deepened, and she seemed less inclined to engage in the camaraderie her classmates often shared.

'Her kindness hasn’t disappeared,' Aizawa thought, watching as she paused to offer Todoroki a nod of approval for his quick thinking during an improvised rescue.

As the final simulation wound down, Aizawa made his way to the field, his presence commanding attention as the students gathered for feedback. He walked to the center of the group, his gaze sweeping over them before landing briefly on Yaoyorozu.

“Good effort today,” he began, his tone as dry as ever. “But there are areas that need improvement. Bakugou, your aggression is effective, but you need to temper it. Collateral damage isn’t acceptable.”

Bakugou grumbled, crossing his arms but offering a curt nod.

Aizawa’s gaze shifted to Midoriya. “You were too scattered. Focus on prioritizing the immediate threats before looking at the bigger picture.”

Finally, he turned to Yaoyorozu, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. “Your strategies were sound, and your execution was near flawless. But your delivery could use refinement. You’ve got the skill to lead, Yaoyorozu, but you can’t afford to alienate your team by being too blunt. Balance matters.”

Momo’s posture straightened, her expression composed as she replied, “Understood, Aizawa-Sensei. I’ll take that into account.”

Aizawa studied her for a moment longer, his thoughts unspoken. “She’ll push herself harder now,” he realized. “But that’s who she is. She won’t stop until she’s surpassed every expectation - even her own.”

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The training field stretched before him, the quiet hum of U.A.’s simulation systems adding a faint undertone to the controlled chaos unfolding below. Shouto adjusted the gloves on his hands, his mismatched eyes following Yaoyorozu as she moved through the scenario with practiced precision. The structured chaos of rescue and combat training seemed to suit her—a stage where her strategic mind could thrive.

She was different now. Not completely, but subtly. Shouto had noticed it in the way her voice carried more weight, her directives delivered with a sharpness that hadn’t been present before. There was no hesitation, no room for doubt in the way she spoke, even when she corrected others. It was... admirable.

“Yaoyorozu, cover the eastern quadrant,” he called across the training field, his tone calm but deliberate. “Midoriya and I will handle the remaining civilians.”

She didn’t hesitate, nodding sharply before moving into position, her crimson cape flowing behind her as she crafted a rescue tool mid-stride. Shouto watched her for a moment longer, something warm settling in his chest as he turned his attention back to the task at hand.

The scenario escalated as holographic hazards were introduced - a sudden “explosion” near the western quadrant sent debris tumbling, and Shouto caught the faintest flicker of tension in Yaoyorozu’s movements as she recalibrated her strategy.

'She’s carrying this team right now,' he thought, his chest tightening slightly. 'But who’s carrying her?'

Shouto directed a burst of ice toward a crumbling structure, stabilizing it just long enough for Kaminari to guide the civilians to safety. As the last of the holographic threats were neutralized, he turned his gaze back to Yaoyorozu. She was coordinating with Jirou and Sero, her gestures efficient as she explained how to reinforce a damaged barrier. The conversation seemed amicable, though there was a certain... unyielding quality to her demeanor.

As the training session wound down and the students began to regroup, Shouto approached Yaoyorozu, his boots crunching softly against the gravel. She was organizing the scattered tools she’d created, her movements methodical as she packed them away.

“You did well today,” he said simply, his voice low but steady.

She glanced up, her expression composed but warm. “Thank you, Todoroki. You did as well.”

There was a pause, the hum of the training systems fading into the background as Shouto considered his next words. “You’ve been different lately,” he said finally, his tone thoughtful. “More... direct. Focused.”

Yaoyorozu hesitated for a brief moment before returning to her task. “There’s no time for hesitation anymore,” she replied quietly. “Not after everything we’ve been through. If being direct helps us improve, then so be it.”

Shouto nodded slowly, his mismatched eyes studying her carefully. “Just don’t forget to give yourself room to breathe,” he said, his voice softer. “You carry enough weight as it is.”

Her fingers stilled briefly over one of the tools, but she didn’t look up. “I appreciate the concern, Todoroki,” she said evenly. “But there’s always work to be done.”

Shouto exhaled quietly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Of course,” he said, stepping back to give her space. “Just... don’t carry it all alone.”

As he turned to leave, he couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder, watching as she straightened her posture and resumed her work. “She’s stronger than she realizes,” he thought, his chest tightening again with that unspoken warmth. “And she’ll prove it - she always does.”

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The campus had begun to settle into the quiet rhythm of late afternoon, the fading sunlight casting long shadows across the training fields. Shouto adjusted the strap on his gloves as he made his way toward the simulation building, his steps purposeful but unhurried. He had started to notice the small changes in Yaoyorozu - changes that lingered in his thoughts long after their training sessions ended.

She had always been focused, always meticulous in her approach to hero work. But now, there was a new edge to her demeanor, a sharper precision that seemed born from the weight of recent experiences. Shouto wasn’t sure when exactly it had started, but he found himself paying attention in a way he hadn’t before.

“Yaoyorozu is pushing herself harder than ever,” he thought, his mismatched eyes narrowing slightly. “But... why does it feel like she’s pulling away?”

The simulation room buzzed with activity, the holographic projections creating a sprawling rescue scenario that was as demanding as it was immersive. Shouto watched as Yaoyorozu stepped into the field, her crimson cape sweeping behind her as she moved with measured purpose. She was assessing the layout, her sharp gaze flicking over obstacles and hazards with practiced ease.

“Todoroki, Midoriya,” she called, her voice steady but firm. “The northwest sector is unstable. Focus on clearing the civilians trapped there - I’ll reinforce the perimeter.”

Her tone left no room for argument, and Shouto followed her directive without hesitation. But as he moved toward the northwest sector, his thoughts kept returning to her. The way her voice carried authority without wavering. The way her actions were deliberate, each move calculated to maximize efficiency.

“She’s always been an excellent leader,” he thought, his ice forming to stabilize a crumbling structure. “But this is different. It’s like... she’s forcing herself to be even stronger.”

As the exercise progressed, Shouto found himself watching Yaoyorozu more closely than he intended. She crafted a series of tools with impressive speed all while maintaining a calm, composed demeanor. But there was something in her posture, in the way she held herself, that felt... heavier.

“Yaoyorozu,” he called as he approached, his voice low but steady. “You’re taking on too much. Delegate more - you don’t need to handle everything yourself.”

She glanced at him briefly, her expression composed but unreadable. “I’m managing fine, Todoroki,” she replied evenly, though there was a faint edge to her tone. “Focus on your task.”

Shouto’s chest tightened, but he nodded, respecting her boundaries even as he continued to watch her from the corner of his vision. “Why does it feel like she’s putting up walls?” he wondered.

After the simulation ended and the students began to disperse, Shouto lingered near the exit, waiting as Yaoyorozu gathered her tools and packed them away. He approached her cautiously, his steps measured as he stopped a few feet away.

“You were impressive today,” he said simply, his voice quiet but carrying an undertone of sincerity.

Yaoyorozu paused briefly before straightening, her hands brushing against the strap of her utility belt. “Thank you,” she replied, her tone polite but reserved.

There was a beat of silence, the faint hum of the simulation systems filling the air between them. Shouto hesitated, his mind racing with thoughts he couldn’t quite articulate. “You’ve been... different lately,” he said finally, his voice softer. “More focused, but also... more distant.”

Yaoyorozu’s expression didn’t falter, though her gaze shifted briefly. “There’s no time for distractions,” she said simply. “Not anymore.”

Shouto nodded slowly, though the weight in his chest didn’t ease. “Just don’t forget that you’re allowed to rely on others,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “You don’t have to carry it all alone.”

Her lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Thank you, Todoroki,” she murmured. “I’ll... keep that in mind.”

As she turned to leave, Shouto watched her go, a quiet determination settling in his chest. “She doesn’t realize how much she matters,” he thought. “I’ll remind her - no matter how long it takes.”

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The dorms were buzzing with the usual energy of Class 2-A's Game and Movie Night, laughter spilling from the common room as Kaminari and Mina argued over which game to play first. The faint aroma of popcorn mingled with the sound of Jirou strumming her guitar, her melody rising above the clamor like a thread of calm. It was the kind of vibrant chaos that defined their bond, a reprieve from the intensity of hero training and the weight of looming midterms.

But in her room, surrounded by neatly stacked textbooks and pages of notes, Momo sat in quiet contrast to the commotion outside. Her desk was a small island of order amidst the storm of preparation for midterms, each textbook placed with meticulous care and her notebook open to a fresh page filled with neatly written diagrams and annotations.

The soft glow of her desk lamp illuminated her face, its light casting a golden hue over her crimson cape, which hung carefully on the back of her chair. Momo's expression was focused, her brows slightly furrowed as she reviewed a particularly dense section on advanced chemical compounds. Her determination was palpable, a quiet but unyielding force that had become her constant companion in recent weeks.

Her classmates had invited her, of course. Kaminari had been particularly insistent, showing up at her door with what he’d called his 'puppy-dog eyes' routine, only to be met with Momo’s polite but firm refusal. “I appreciate the offer, Kaminari,” she had said, her tone kind but leaving no room for argument. “But I really must prioritize my studies tonight.”

Now, as the muffled sounds of her classmates’ laughter reached her ears, Momo allowed herself a brief pause. She leaned back in her chair, her fingers brushing the edge of her notebook. The camaraderie she’d once indulged in now felt... distant. It wasn’t that she didn’t value her friendships; she did, deeply. But each choice to step away felt like another step toward proving herself - not just to her peers or her mentors, but to herself.

She returned to her notes, her pen gliding across the page as she made a quick adjustment to a formula. Her movements were methodical, her thoughts sharp and precise. There was a certain satisfaction in the order of her work, in the discipline it demanded of her. It was a reflection of the focus she’d honed during her recovery and training - an evolution that felt as natural as it was necessary.

The moments of warmth and connection she used to share with her classmates would have to wait, she decided. There was too much at stake now. Every detail she absorbed, every strategy she refined, was another piece of armor she was forging against the doubts that had once weighed her down.

In the common room, Shouto’s attention drifted to the hallway leading toward the dorm rooms. He sat with one leg crossed over the other, his expression calm but his thoughts preoccupied. He hadn’t seen Momo since dinner, and though he respected her need for solitude, he couldn’t shake the quiet concern that lingered in his chest.

“She’s studying again, isn’t she?” Jirou asked, her voice cutting through his thoughts. She leaned against the arm of the couch, her tone equal parts amused and understanding.

Shouto nodded, his mismatched gaze steady. “She’s been pushing herself harder lately.”

Kaminari, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a controller in his hands, grinned. “That’s Momo for you. Always the overachiever. I tried to convince her to join us, but no luck.”

Jirou’s smirk softened into something more thoughtful. “She’s just focused,” she said, her fingers lightly tapping the strings of her guitar. “But I hope she knows it’s okay to take a break every now and then.”

Shouto didn’t respond immediately, his gaze flicking toward the hallway again. “She knows,” he said quietly. “But it’s not about taking breaks. She’s trying to prove something - to herself, more than anyone.”

The others fell quiet for a moment, their banter subdued as they considered his words. Shouto’s attention lingered on the faint light spilling from beneath Momo’s door, the faintest flicker of determination settling in his chest. He wouldn’t disturb her, not tonight. But he would find a way to remind her that she didn’t have to walk this path alone.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The weeks blurred together as Momo settled into a rigorous routine, her days divided meticulously between studying, training, and refining her leadership strategies. The constant pace left little room for anything else, and though she rarely admitted it - even to herself - it was isolating.

Her training sessions had become her sanctuary. In the simulation rooms, she tested her abilities tirelessly, cycling through rescue drills, combat scenarios, and quirk refinement exercises. Each session was approached with an intensity that had not been as evident during her first year. She was deliberate, methodical, and unapologetic in her assessments of herself and others. If she spotted mistakes during group exercises, she corrected them with sharp precision, her once-sugarcoated feedback now exchanged for candid critiques.

"Kirishima, your timing was off," she said one afternoon, her tone blunt but calm as she analyzed their performance in a simulated disaster. "Had you reacted a second later, the civilians would’ve been caught in the debris."

Kirishima scratched the back of his head, laughing a little sheepishly. "Yikes, thanks for catching that, Momo. I’ll work on it."

She simply nodded, her focus already shifting to the next task. It wasn’t that she didn’t value the relationships she had built - it was just that she had little patience for inefficiency. Every moment was an opportunity to improve, to strive closer to the ideal hero she envisioned herself becoming.

In the evenings, when laughter and shouts of her classmates spilled into the hallways from the common room, Momo retreated further into her studies. Her desk became her haven, its surface adorned with neat stacks of books and color-coded notes. She devoured material on advanced quirk mechanics, rescue strategies, and leadership principles, her mind focused on outpacing not just expectations but the shadow of self-doubt that lingered from her first year.

Her interactions with her classmates grew quieter, reserved. If they joked or teased, she would offer a polite smile but rarely anything more. Even when Kaminari or Mina popped into her room to convince her to join their antics, she declined with the same steady composure: "Thank you for the invitation, but I’m focusing on my studies tonight."

It was becoming predictable.

About three months into this cycle, Momo found herself halfway through a particularly dense chapter on team dynamics when an unexpected noise startled her. It began as a faint scuffle outside her room - muted voices whispering, an occasional giggle - and then, suddenly, her door burst open.

Kaminari, Sero, Mina, and Kirishima spilled in, their expressions alight with mischief. Kaminari grinned widely, holding what appeared to be a controller in one hand. "Momo, you’ve officially been abducted! Resistance is futile!"

Mina folded her arms dramatically, her pink eyes twinkling. "We’re staging a rescue mission - saving you from yourself! No more studying tonight!"

Momo blinked, utterly caught off guard. "What-? I have midterms to prepare for," she protested, gesturing to the open book on her desk. "I don’t have time for-"

"Wrong answer!" Sero interjected with a teasing smirk as he stepped forward, his tape Quirk ready. "This is a hero operation, Momo. You’re not getting out of it."

Momo sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried to maintain her composure. "Everyone, I really appreciate your concern, but-"

"No buts!" Kirishima said cheerfully, his easygoing grin unwavering as he reached to grab her chair. "Come on, Momo, you’ve been working yourself to the bone. Let us help you loosen up for once."

Before she could formulate a reply, Kaminari and Mina had taken her hands, practically dragging her from her chair as the others cheered in encouragement. It was both overwhelming and, to her surprise, faintly endearing.

"Fine," Momo relented finally, her voice a mix of exasperation and reluctant amusement. "Just for a little while."

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The common room was louder than she remembered. Kaminari and Sero had taken over one end of the couch, fiercely competitive as they battled it out in a video game. Mina had positioned herself on the armrest, laughing and offering commentary that bordered on heckling. Jirou played referee from the other side, her guitar resting casually against the sofa.

Momo sat at the edge of the chaos, her initial reluctance softening as the evening progressed. She found herself smiling - genuinely - as Kaminari declared a "rematch" after Sero bested him once again. When Mina handed her a controller and offered to team up, Momo hesitated for only a moment before accepting.

The energy in the room was infectious. For the first time in months, she allowed herself to relax, to laugh at Kaminari’s ridiculous antics and groan when Kirishima accidentally sabotaged their game. She wasn’t used to letting her guard down like this anymore, but as the night wore on, she realized how much she had missed it.

"See? This isn’t so bad," Mina teased, nudging her playfully.

Momo chuckled softly, her polite mask slipping just enough to reveal a faint smirk. "I suppose it has its... merits."

The group burst into laughter at her subtle sass, and for a brief moment, Momo felt lighter - less burdened by the weight of her self-imposed expectations.

The common room of Class 2-A was alive with laughter and playful banter as the group gathered for another one of their infamous game nights. Tooru, ever the instigator of chaos, clapped her invisible hands together with glee as she presented her latest idea. “Alright, everyone! Tonight, we’re playing the Pocky Game!”

A collective groan mixed with laughter rippled through the room. Kaminari’s eyes lit up with excitement, while Jirou rolled hers, though the faintest hint of a smirk tugged at her lips. Mina, of course, was already on board, practically bouncing in her seat.

“Couples first!” Tooru declared, holding up a box of Pocky sticks like a trophy. “Kirishima and Mina, you’re up!”

Kirishima and Mina exchanged a glance before grinning at each other. “Let’s do it!” Mina said, grabbing a stick and holding one end between her teeth. Kirishima leaned in without hesitation, their laughter filling the room as they got closer and closer until-

“Boom! Winner!” Kaminari cheered as the two kissed before breaking into laughter.

Next up were Mashirao and Tooru, who managed to pull it off with surprising ease, though Tooru’s giggles made it clear she was having the time of her life. Tokoyami and Tsuyu followed, their calm demeanor contrasting hilariously with the chaos around them.

Then came Izuku and Ochako. The room fell into a hushed anticipation as the two sat across from each other, both blushing furiously. “You can do it, Midoriya!” Kaminari teased, earning a glare from Jirou.

Izuku hesitated, his hands fidgeting nervously as Ochako held the Pocky stick between her lips. They leaned in, their faces growing redder by the second.

“Nope! Can’t do it!” Ochako squeaked, pulling back at the last second. Izuku followed suit, his face practically steaming as the room erupted into laughter and good-natured teasing.

As the laughter died down, Tooru’s mischievous voice rang out again. “Alright, next up - Yaomomo and Todoroki!”

Momo, who had been quietly observing from the corner with a faint smile, froze. “What? No, I don’t think-”

“Oh, come on, Momo!” Kaminari grinned, already pulling her toward the center of the room. “You’ve been sitting out all night. It’s your turn!”

Sero joined in, grabbing Shouto by the arm. “And you too, Todoroki. Don’t think you’re getting out of this!”

Shouto blinked, his expression calm but slightly puzzled as he allowed himself to be dragged forward. “I don’t see the point of this game,” he said, though there was no real resistance in his tone.

“It’s fun! That’s the point!” Mina chimed in, holding up a box of strawberry Pocky. “And we’re using this one because Momo loves strawberry-flavored stuff.”

Momo’s cheeks flushed faintly, but she composed herself quickly. “This is ridiculous,” she muttered, though she didn’t pull away as Kaminari handed her the Pocky stick.

“Rules are rules,” Tooru said with a giggle. “Now, go!”

Momo held one end of the Pocky stick between her lips, her posture perfectly composed despite the faint pink tint on her cheeks. Shouto leaned in, his mismatched eyes meeting hers briefly before focusing on the stick.

The room fell silent, the teasing and laughter momentarily replaced by a collective anticipation. As Shouto moved closer, Momo’s heart raced despite her best efforts to remain calm. She could feel the warmth of his breath as the distance between them shrank, her own resolve wavering.

Shouto, for his part, was uncharacteristically flustered. His usual composure was intact, but there was a faint redness creeping up his neck as he leaned closer. The strawberry scent of the Pocky was oddly distracting, and for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, his chest felt tight.

Just as their noses were about to brush, Momo bit off her end of the Pocky stick with a sharp snap, pulling back abruptly. “I’m done,” she said quickly, her voice steady but her face a deep shade of red.

She stood, smoothing her skirt as she avoided everyone’s gaze. “Thank you for the... experience,” she added before making a swift exit, leaving the room in stunned silence.

Shouto blinked, still holding his end of the Pocky stick as he processed what had just happened. His cheeks were faintly pink, and for once, he looked genuinely confused. “Did I... do something wrong?” he asked, his voice quiet but sincere.

The room erupted into laughter and teasing once more, Kaminari clapping Shouto on the back. “Nah, man, you were great!"

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The days following the Pocky Game incident were unusually quiet, at least where Yaoyorozu was concerned. Shouto couldn’t pinpoint exactly when things shifted, but the change was undeniable. She still sat beside him in class, her posture as composed as ever and her notes impossibly organized, but there was a new tension in the air. She rarely spoke to him unless necessary, her focus directed almost exclusively toward the lessons. And whenever their eyes met by chance, her cheeks would flush a deep shade of red before she turned away quickly.

At first, Shouto had thought he might have upset her during the game, though he couldn’t imagine how. The memory of her biting off the Pocky and leaving abruptly replayed in his mind more times than he cared to admit. He had been confused then, and he was still confused now. But the longer this went on, the less he believed he’d done anything wrong. It felt more like... avoidance.

During Practical Training, the distance was even more pronounced. While the class usually divided into groups for exercises, Momo consistently stationed herself on the opposite side of the field from him, even when working in pairs would have been more efficient. Shouto wasn’t oblivious—he noticed the way her eyes would flick to him briefly before she glanced away, the faint pink flush on her face when their paths crossed.

'She’s avoiding me,' Shouto thought, his mismatched gaze narrowing slightly. 'But why?'

Despite her avoidance, Shouto couldn’t help but be drawn to her. Momo had always carried herself with poise and grace, but lately, there was an unyielding edge to her demeanor that intrigued him even more. Her critiques during training were sharp and unapologetic, her tone carrying a weight that commanded attention. She was evolving, growing into a more assertive version of herself, and Shouto admired her all the more for it.

But admiration wasn’t enough. He wanted to understand her. To be closer to her, not just as classmates or teammates, but as someone she trusted enough to let her guard down around. Her growing distance only made him more determined.

During one training session, Shouto watched as Momo directed Jirou and Kirishima with the same sharp precision she had become known for. Her voice was calm but direct, her critiques precise but blunt. “You need to adjust your timing, Jirou,” she said evenly, her tone leaving no room for argument. “If you hesitate even for a moment, the structure could collapse.”

“Noted,” Jirou replied, though her tone was tinged with faint irritation.

Shouto’s gaze lingered on Momo, watching as she moved to assist Midoriya with reinforcing a barrier. The faint ache in his chest grew stronger as he realized just how much she had changed—not in a bad way, but in a way that made her feel further from him than ever.

During a break between training sessions, Shouto found himself sitting at the edge of the field, his thoughts consumed by the growing distance between him and Momo. He glanced toward the opposite side of the field where she was reviewing a diagram with Midoriya, her posture as composed as always.

He hesitated for a moment before standing and making his way toward her. His steps were measured, his expression calm, but his chest felt heavier with each step. He stopped a few feet away, waiting for her to acknowledge him.

“Yaoyorozu,” he said quietly, his voice carrying just enough weight to draw her attention.

She looked up from the diagram, her eyes meeting his briefly before she turned her gaze back to the page. “Todoroki,” she replied, her tone polite but reserved. “Is there something you need?”

Shouto studied her for a moment, noting the faint pink flush on her cheeks despite her composed demeanor. “I wanted to check in,” he said simply. “You’ve been... distant lately.”

Momo’s fingers stilled over the diagram, her expression faltering just slightly before she composed herself. “I’ve been focused on my studies and training,” she said evenly. “There’s a lot to prepare for.”

“I understand,” Shouto replied, though his voice softened. “But... you don’t have to avoid me.”

Her gaze flicked to him briefly, her cheeks flushing deeper before she looked away. “I’m not avoiding you,” she said quickly, though the words felt rehearsed.

Shouto’s lips curved into a faint smile, his tone gentle but unwavering. “You can talk to me, Yaoyorozu. About anything.”

Her fingers tightened slightly on the diagram, and for a moment, he thought she might respond. But instead, she nodded curtly. “Thank you, Todoroki. I’ll... keep that in mind.”

As she turned back to her work, Shouto stepped back, allowing her the space she clearly needed. But his determination didn’t waver - he would find a way to bridge the distance between them, no matter how long it took.

Chapter Text

The hum of the news broadcast in the common room was faint, but the headlines were sharp enough to reach Shouto’s ears even as he lingered near the kitchen, a cup of tea warming his hands. His name was plastered across the screen again, however now the headlines had taken a darker turn. Shouto stared at the glowing screen in the common room, his expression calm but his chest heavy with the weight of the words scrolling across the ticker. 𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚘 𝚃𝚘𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚒: 𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚛 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚗𝚎𝚍? followed by, 𝙴𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝙻𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚌𝚢 - 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝙵𝚊𝚛 𝙳𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙰𝚙𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝙵𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚃𝚛𝚎𝚎? He had grown accustomed to the public’s scrutiny, the skepticism that came with being the son of Japan’s former #1 hero, but lately, the narrative had taken an uglier turn.

He didn’t bother reading the full articles anymore. The narrative had grown predictable, each iteration chipping away at his already fragile relationship with the public. The accusations leveled by his brother had opened old wounds, twisting the story to paint Shouto as part of the abuse rather than one of its victims. It was cruel, twisted, and wrong, but the public ate it up. His association with his father had always been a burden, but now it felt suffocating.

“Todoroki, you need to clear the air,” Midoriya said one evening, his voice steady but concerned. He had been one of the few willing to approach Shouto about the issue directly. “The longer this goes on, the worse it’ll get.”

Shouto shook his head, his mismatched eyes meeting Midoriya’s briefly. “Explaining won’t change anything,” he replied quietly. “It’s easier for people to believe lies than face the truth.”

Midoriya looked like he wanted to argue, but he hesitated, the words dying in his throat. Shouto appreciated his concern, but the reality was unchanging - the public would see him the way they wanted to, regardless of the truth.

Momo’s struggles were quieter but no less burdensome. After the mall fight, she had tasted what it felt like to be recognized for her capabilities - for her leadership, her strategy, and her strength. But the taste had been fleeting. The public had quickly reverted to their old misconceptions, dismissing her as a 'recommendation student who didn’t belong in U.A.' Their critiques were rooted in ignorance, shaped by moments they didn’t fully understand.

She had been underestimated since her first year, her loss during the Sports Festival reinforcing the belief that she was unfit for leadership. Her internship with Uwabami had been twisted into a story of vanity and fame-seeking, ignoring the fact that it was the only option she had at the time. Now, as the headlines about her resurfaced, the words stung in ways she didn’t like to admit.

𝚈𝚊𝚘𝚢𝚘𝚛𝚘𝚣𝚞 - 𝙰 𝙵𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝙻𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙?

𝙼𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚢, 𝙵𝚊𝚖𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙽𝚘 𝚂𝚞𝚋𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎.

They were lies, but they felt real, each one a reminder of the uphill battle she faced to prove her worth.

Shouto noticed the change in Momo almost immediately. Her polite demeanor had taken on an edge, her critiques during training sharper and more direct. She worked tirelessly, throwing herself into her studies and training with an intensity that bordered on relentless. She was growing - stronger, more assertive - but the distance she created between herself and her classmates, between herself and him, was hard to ignore.

He recognized the struggle in her eyes, the weight of public perception that mirrored his own. They were both fighting battles rooted in misunderstandings, their efforts overshadowed by narratives that refused to change. He wanted to tell her she wasn’t alone in this, that he understood more than she realized. But every time he tried to approach her, she seemed to pull further away.

One evening, the two of them found themselves alone in the common room. Momo sat at the far end of the table, her notes spread out in neat rows as she reviewed a strategy document. Shouto lingered near the window, his gaze flicking briefly between the glowing skyline outside and her focused expression.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” he said finally, his voice breaking the silence.

Momo didn’t look up from her notes. “I’ve been busy,” she replied evenly, though her tone lacked the warmth it once had.

Shouto hesitated before speaking again. “The public doesn’t see what you’ve accomplished. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter.”

She glanced at him briefly, her eyes betraying a flicker of surprise before her composure returned. “It’s not about recognition,” she said simply, her voice steady but distant. “It’s about doing what needs to be done.”

“You’re doing more than anyone realizes,” Shouto said, his tone softer now. “But that doesn’t mean you have to do it alone.”

Momo’s fingers tightened slightly around her pen, but she didn’t respond. The silence between them stretched, heavy with unspoken understanding.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The headlines weren’t just cruel - they were relentless. Every day brought a new article or broadcast dissecting Shouto’s life, his choices, and his so-called complicity in Endeavor’s past. His brother’s accusations had given the media fuel, and they weren’t letting up. Shouto knew the truth, and so did his classmates, but the public saw what they wanted to see: another Todoroki, forever tainted by the legacy of their father.

Every time he stepped into the streets, he felt their eyes - judging, scrutinizing, whispering. Fans still asked for autographs, but there was a hesitation now, a question lingering unspoken on their faces. Was he a victim, or was he guilty by association? The ambiguity gnawed at him, not because he cared what strangers thought, but because it made moving forward that much harder.

Pro Heroes hadn’t exactly been supportive either. While some expressed sympathy, others openly questioned his readiness to be a hero at all. “He’s too tied to Endeavor’s shadow,” a prominent hero had said during an interview. “How can we trust someone who hasn’t cut those ties completely?”

The words echoed in Shouto’s mind, their weight heavy but not unfamiliar. He had been judged his entire life, but this was different. The narrative wasn’t just about his past - it was a challenge to his very identity.

For Momo, the return of public scorn felt like a cruel déjà vu. Just when she thought her leadership during the mall fight had finally turned the tide, the same old accusations had crept back, their sharp edges cutting into her newfound confidence. The public had dismissed her efforts before, and now they were doing it again, twisting her actions into stories of failure and incompetence.

She hated reading the comments online, but sometimes she couldn’t help herself. “Yaoyorozu’s just a face,” one thread read. “She’s not meant to lead - look at her track record. She’s a liability.”

Another post accused her of clinging to stronger classmates like Todoroki and Midoriya to mask her own inadequacies. The one that stung the most suggested her internship with Uwabami was all anyone needed to know about her priorities. “Of course she interned under a hero known for her image rather than her impact. It says a lot.”

Momo clenched her fists at her desk, her notes and books scattered across the surface. She couldn’t let their words distract her - not again. She had come too far, endured too much, to let the public’s ignorance dictate her worth. But despite her resolve, the weight of their doubt clung to her like a shadow.

Shouto wasn’t oblivious to Momo’s struggles. He saw the way her shoulders tensed during class discussions, the way her critiques during training carried an edge of frustration that hadn’t been there before. She was sharper, more focused, but also more reserved. And while she hid it well, Shouto could sense the burden she carried.

He understood it too well - the sting of being underestimated, the frustration of having your efforts dismissed. Watching her navigate the same struggles he faced only deepened his admiration for her. She was strong, determined, and unyielding in ways that left him in quiet awe.

But it wasn’t just admiration. Every time she spoke, her voice calm but firm, he found himself drawn to her. Every time she looked his way - brief as those moments were - his chest tightened. And every time she avoided him, he wanted nothing more than to bridge the gap between them.

It was during a quiet evening in the library when their paths crossed again. Shouto had been searching for a book on quirk theory when he spotted Momo at one of the long tables, her textbooks spread out in neat rows. She was focused, her pen moving swiftly across the page, but there was a faint furrow in her brow that betrayed her thoughts.

Without thinking, Shouto approached her. “Yaoyorozu,” he said softly, his voice careful not to startle her.

She looked up, her expression briefly surprised before settling into polite composure. “Todoroki,” she replied, her tone even. “What brings you here?”

“I needed a book,” he said, holding up the one he’d found. “But I couldn’t help noticing... you’ve been carrying a lot lately.”

Her brow furrowed slightly, and she placed her pen down with deliberate precision. “I’m managing,” she said, though the faint tension in her voice betrayed her.

“I know you are,” Shouto said, his mismatched eyes meeting hers steadily. “But I also know what it’s like to be judged for things people don’t understand.”

Momo’s gaze softened, the guarded wall she’d been building showing the faintest crack. “The public isn’t always fair,” she admitted quietly. “No matter how hard you work, it’s never enough for some people.”

Shouto nodded, his voice lowering. “They don’t see what we do. What you’ve done. But their opinions don’t change the truth. You’re not a failure, Yaoyorozu. You’re one of the strongest people I know.”

Her cheeks flushed faintly, but she held his gaze this time, her expression wavering between gratitude and disbelief. “Thank you,” she said softly. “That means... more than you know.”

For a moment, the weight of their shared struggles seemed lighter. And as they sat together in the quiet of the library, Shouto couldn’t help but feel his admiration deepen, his chest tightening with emotions he wasn’t quite ready to name.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The steady hum of activity in Class 2-A had become second nature to Momo, the rhythm of training sessions, classroom debates, and practical drills weaving into the fabric of her days. But she had felt it - the slow unraveling of the persona she’d adopted over time, the warmth and openness she’d tried to embody to meet the expectations of others. Now, as she sat at her desk reviewing patrol assignments, she couldn’t ignore the quiet satisfaction she felt in reverting to the composed, analytical version of herself she had been when she first entered U.A.

It wasn’t a complete change, nor was it intentional. But each day, as she pored over training plans or critiqued her classmates’ performance, she felt a sharpness returning to her tone - a deliberate bluntness that allowed her to be unapologetic about her observations. It wasn’t cruel, nor did she intend it to be; it was simply direct. She didn’t sugarcoat critiques anymore because it wasn’t useful, not for her nor for them.

“Tsu,” Momo said during a recent disaster drill, her tone calm but firm as she gestured toward an unstable structure. “You’re focusing too much on the rescue without considering the hazards. If the structure collapses, it’ll endanger everyone inside. Redirect your approach.”

Tsuyu tilted her head slightly, nodding after a moment of thought. “Understood, Yaoyorozu. I’ll adjust.”

There was no room for hesitation anymore. Every mistake had a cost, and Momo’s sharpness was born from a need for precision, not arrogance. She still admired her classmates, still found inspiration in their determination, but she had reclaimed the seriousness and introversion that had defined her early days at U.A. - the version of herself that didn’t shy away from responsibility, even if it made her reserved.

When Aizawa-Sensei announced the next set of group patrol assignments during Heroics class, Momo listened attentively, her hands folded neatly on her desk. The pairs and teams were being assigned, and as usual, her name was grouped with another student for their designated route.

“Todoroki,” Aizawa said, glancing briefly at the list. “You’ll patrol with Yaoyorozu.”

Momo stiffened slightly, her gaze flicking to Todoroki before returning to the front of the room. She knew what she was about to ask would raise eyebrows, but she couldn’t ignore the growing desire for independence - the need to prove her capability without relying on anyone else.

“Sensei,” she said after a moment, her voice steady but respectful. “I’d like to request permission to patrol alone.”

The room fell silent, her classmates exchanging glances as they processed her request. Even Todoroki looked slightly surprised, though his expression remained composed.

Aizawa tilted his head, his sharp eyes meeting hers. “Patrols are meant to teach coordination and teamwork, Yaoyorozu,” he said evenly. “Why would you want to work alone?”

“I believe it’s important to develop the ability to operate independently as well,” Momo replied, her tone unflinching. “I want to demonstrate that I can handle a route on my own, without assistance or oversight.”

Aizawa studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “What makes you think you’re ready for that?”

Momo straightened, her posture as composed as ever. “I’ve been working tirelessly to refine my strategy and execution. My leadership has improved, and my ability to assess and adapt to situations is stronger than ever. I want to put that to the test.”

Her classmates murmured softly among themselves, but Momo didn’t falter, her gaze steady and unwavering. Finally, Aizawa nodded slightly, though his tone carried its usual edge. “Fine,” he said. “But if I receive any reports of issues, you’ll return to group patrols immediately.”

“Understood, Sensei,” Momo replied, inclining her head respectfully.

As the discussion moved on, she felt the faintest flicker of satisfaction in her chest. She didn’t want the approval of others—not anymore. What she wanted was to prove, to herself and the public, that she was capable of standing alone, unyielding and strong.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The afternoon sun hung low in the sky as Shouto, Sero, and Bakugou began their assigned patrol route. The streets were bustling with activity, civilians going about their day with only the occasional glance toward the trio of heroes-in-training. Bakugou strode ahead, his hands shoved into his pockets and his usual scowl etched firmly on his face, while Sero and Shouto lagged a few steps behind, their pace more measured.

Shouto wasn’t entirely sure why Aizawa-Sensei had put him his these two, though he suspected it had something to do with balancing Bakugou’s aggressive nature with Sero’s easygoing demeanor. For his part, Shouto was content to observe, though his thoughts wandered to the day’s earlier events and, inevitably, to Momo. She had insisted on patrolling solo, and though he respected her decision, he couldn’t help but worry. She was capable - more than capable - but that didn’t stop the faint unease that lingered in his chest.

“So, Sero,” Shouto said after a moment, his tone casual but deliberate. “I heard you’re cousins with Yaoyorozu.”

Sero glanced at him, raising an eyebrow before nodding. “Yeah, that’s right. Why? Something on your mind, Todoroki?”

Shouto hesitated for only a moment before continuing. “What makes her happy?” he asked, his voice as calm as ever but carrying a faint undertone of curiosity. “I mean, what does she enjoy - beyond hero work?”

Sero blinked, clearly surprised by the question, before breaking into a grin. “Oh, I see how it is,” he said teasingly, nudging Shouto with his elbow. “You’ve got an interest in Momo, huh?”

Before Shouto could respond, Bakugou’s voice cut through the air like a whip. “What the hell are you two gossiping about back there? Focus on the damn patrol!”

Sero waved him off with a laugh, clearly unbothered by Bakugou’s irritation. “Chill, man. We’re multitasking.” Turning back to Shouto, Sero added, “Anyway, Momo’s pretty easy to read once you get to know her. She’s super into anything strawberry - like, you put a strawberry-flavored anything in front of her, and she’s happy. Oh, and she loves reading and learning new stuff. Pretty obvious, right?”

Shouto nodded, filing the information away. “Strawberry-flavored things,” he murmured thoughtfully. It aligned with what he’d already heard from Kaminari, but hearing it from someone closer to her made it feel more personal, more real.

Sero tilted his head, studying Shouto with a knowing smirk. “You’re really curious, huh? Don’t tell me you’re planning something for her?”

Shouto’s cheeks warmed slightly, though his expression remained composed. “I just want to understand her better,” he said simply. “She’s been... distant lately.”

“Yeah, she gets like that when she’s under pressure,” Sero said, his tone a mix of concern and understanding. “She doesn’t like asking for help, but she’ll come around eventually. You just gotta be patient.”

“Can you two shut it?” Bakugou snapped, glaring over his shoulder. “This isn’t a damn social hour. You’re both useless.”

Sero rolled his eyes but kept his grin. “Relax, Bakugou. We’re just bonding.”

Shouto, however, didn’t respond to Bakugou’s outburst. His thoughts were already elsewhere, focused on the quiet determination he’d seen in Momo’s eyes and the faint blush that seemed to surface every time their gazes met. He wasn’t sure when it had started, this pull he felt toward her, but he knew one thing with certainty: he wanted to see her happy, in a way that was effortless, genuine, and unburdened by the weight they both carried.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The streets hummed with the quiet rhythm of daily life as Momo moved through her assigned patrol route, her steps steady and purposeful. The crisp autumn air brushed against her crimson cape, which billowed faintly with each stride, its gemstone clasp catching the soft afternoon light. Despite the bustling activity around her, the world felt quieter than usual—a solitude she had sought deliberately when requesting to patrol alone.

Momo scanned the area with her sharp gaze, her hand resting lightly on her utility belt as she observed the flow of traffic and pedestrians. Her patrol route wound through a shopping district filled with boutiques and cafes, its streets well-maintained but not immune to moments of disruption. She preferred routes like this - structured yet unpredictable enough to keep her mind focused.

While she appreciated the independence of solo patrol, she couldn’t ignore the faint tension that lingered beneath the surface. It wasn’t her classmates’ absence that unsettled her; it was the watchful eyes of the public. She felt them - glances that lingered a little too long, whispers that drifted just close enough to reach her ears.

“Isn’t she that recommendation student?” one voice murmured from a nearby cafe, their tone filled with skepticism.

“Yeah, that’s Yaoyorozu,” another replied. “Didn’t she mess up during the Sports Festival? I thought she was all hype and no substance.”

Momo’s posture remained perfectly composed, but her heart tightened at their words. She continued walking, her focus unyielding even as the whispers followed her like shadows. She had heard it all before - the doubts, the dismissals, the accusations that she wasn’t good enough. And while she had grown adept at brushing them aside, their persistence was exhausting.

As she rounded a corner, the faint sound of an argument reached her ears. Two civilians stood near a shattered storefront, their voices raised as they gestured toward the damage. Momo approached swiftly, her composed demeanor concealing the faint ache of unease that lingered in her chest.

“Excuse me,” she said politely, her tone steady but authoritative. “Is there an issue here?”

The civilians turned toward her, their expressions shifting from frustration to mild surprise. “The glass shattered out of nowhere,” one of them explained, gesturing to the broken window. “I think it’s a Quirk accident.”

Momo nodded, her mind already running through possible scenarios. “I’ll handle this,” she said calmly, producing a small notepad to record the details. “If you could step away from the area for safety reasons, I’ll assess the damage.”

Her efficiency seemed to reassure them, and they moved aside without argument as Momo carefully examined the storefront. She crafted a temporary barrier to secure the area, her quirk activating with practiced ease as the material formed beneath her touch.

But as she worked, she felt the weight of their eyes again - not just the civilians she was assisting, but the passersby who had stopped to observe. She wondered what they saw when they looked at her: a capable hero-in-training, or the failures they had so often painted her with?

The whispers returned as she continued her patrol, quieter but no less present. “She’s just a face,” someone muttered as she passed. “Not really hero material.”

Momo’s composure didn’t falter, but her thoughts grew heavier with each step. She had always strived to prove herself, to show that her capabilities were more than skin deep, but the public’s skepticism seemed endless. Her accomplishments during the mall fight hadn’t erased their doubts; they had merely paused them. And now, as she walked alone, she felt the weight of their judgment more keenly than ever.

Her mind drifted briefly to her classmates, their unwavering support a quiet comfort despite her growing distance from them. She thought of Todoroki, his words from the library lingering in her thoughts. “You’re not a failure,” he had said, his voice steady and sincere. “You’re one of the strongest people I know.”

But even his assurance couldn’t silence the voices that followed her now, nor could it lift the shadow of doubt she carried. Momo inhaled deeply, her gaze sharpening as she turned her attention back to her patrol. She had chosen to walk alone because she believed in her strength, in her ability to stand independent and unyielding. And while the weight of public perception was heavy, she knew it would only make her stronger.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The ornate envelope had arrived earlier that morning, its gold-trimmed edges gleaming faintly under the soft light of Momo’s desk lamp. The handwriting on the front was unmistakable - flawless cursive that belonged to none other than her mother, Hidoi Yaoyorozu. The letter inside was as formal as ever, carefully worded but carrying the weight of unspoken threats that only Momo could decipher.

𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔩𝔶 𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔞𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔡, (You are heavily encouraged to attend,) her mother had written, though Momo could practically hear the clipped edge to her tone. ℑ𝔱 𝔴𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔟𝔢 𝔲𝔫𝔴𝔦𝔰𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔦𝔤𝔫𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔯𝔢𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔰𝔱, 𝔞𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔞𝔟𝔰𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔯𝔢𝔣𝔩𝔢𝔠𝔱 𝔭𝔬𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔶 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔞𝔪𝔦𝔩𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔴𝔢 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔟𝔲𝔦𝔩𝔱. (It would be unwise to ignore this request, as your absence will reflect poorly on the family and all we have built.)

Momo had read the letter twice before folding it neatly and placing it back into its envelope. Her parents didn’t need to be explicit; the consequences of refusal were as ingrained in her as the rules she’d grown up following. To them, her presence at the annual Yaoyorozu-hosted gala wasn’t just about family - it was about status, maintaining appearances, and ensuring that their name remained untarnished in the eyes of high society.

Now, as she stood in front of her closet later that evening, Momo’s reflection stared back at her from the mirror, her expression calm but her chest tight with the tension she couldn’t quite shake. The formal gown she had chosen for the gala - a deep crimson to match her hero costume - hung delicately on its hanger, its intricate design reflecting the wealth and status her parents clung to so fiercely.

She hadn’t told her classmates about the event. They were vaguely aware of her family’s influence and their high expectations, but Momo had always kept the darker truths about her parents tucked away. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her friends - it was that the weight of her family’s expectations felt too personal, too suffocating, to share.

Yet, as much as she dreaded stepping into the familiar world of manipulation and judgment that awaited her at the gala, a part of her knew she couldn’t refuse. It wasn’t just about avoiding her parents’ wrath - it was about ensuring that her efforts as a hero-in-training weren’t overshadowed by their interference. The Yaoyorozu name carried weight, and Momo knew that weight could just as easily crush her as it could support her.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The Yaoyorozu estate was as grand as ever, its sprawling grounds lit with soft golden lights that framed the elegant facade of the main building. Momo arrived alone, her steps measured and her expression carefully composed as she crossed the threshold into the familiar world of high society. Guests mingled in the opulent ballroom, their laughter and conversation filling the air as music played softly in the background.

Her parents were easy to spot - her mother, Hidoi, standing near the center of the room with a glass of champagne in hand, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd like a hawk. Her father, Zankoku, lingered nearby, his charming smile a facade that masked the coldness Momo knew all too well.

“Momo,” her mother said smoothly as she approached, her tone carrying the faintest edge of approval. “I’m glad you made it. You look... acceptable.”

Momo inclined her head respectfully, her expression betraying nothing. “Thank you, Mother,” she replied evenly.

Her father glanced at her briefly, his smile never faltering. “You’ll remember to be on your best behavior, won’t you?” he said, his voice low but laced with unspoken meaning.

“Of course,” Momo replied, her tone steady even as the tension in her chest tightened further. She knew the rules - they had been drilled into her since childhood. Smile, nod, and say the right things. Be the perfect daughter. Anything less was unacceptable.

The air in the grand ballroom was thick with the clinking of glasses and the murmur of carefully curated conversations. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm, golden glow over the room, illuminating the sea of elegantly dressed guests who moved about with effortless poise. Momo stood near the edges of the gathering, her crimson gown a striking contrast to the soft pastel hues worn by many of the other women. She kept her posture perfect and her expression neutral, doing everything in her power to blend into the background despite the lingering gazes that followed her.

Her parents were near the center of the room, mingling with a group of business associates whose names Momo had heard countless times before. From her vantage point, she could see her mother’s sharp, approving smile as she greeted each guest with calculated charm. Her father, meanwhile, had adopted his usual mask of warmth, his laughter deep and practiced as he shook hands and exchanged pleasantries.

Momo knew better. The smiles were as much a part of the act as the lavish decor surrounding them, a carefully constructed image of perfection that left no room for deviation.

She turned her attention to the scene before her as her parents’ conversation shifted to familiar territory - business. The topic of mergers, investments, and partnerships filled the air, their words precise and deliberate, each one calculated to strengthen the ties that bound their empire together.

But then, as one of the older business partners raised his glass in a toast, Momo’s sharp ears caught the shift in tone that made her stomach tighten.

“It’s fortunate, isn’t it,” the man said, his smile practiced but his eyes glinting with something deeper, “that the next generation is just as promising as our current endeavors. I must say, Yaoyorozu, your daughter is quite remarkable. A brilliant young woman with unmatched poise.”

Momo’s mother inclined her head in polite acknowledgment. “Momo has been an asset to our family name,” Hidoi replied smoothly, her tone betraying none of the sharp expectations that so often colored her words at home. “She’s worked diligently to uphold the legacy we’ve built.”

The man chuckled, his voice carrying a touch of amusement. “I should hope so. It would be a waste for such brilliance to remain unaligned, wouldn’t it? I’ve heard your daughter has yet to be formally engaged. Perhaps it’s time to consider aligning her with one of our families.”

Momo stiffened imperceptibly, her breath catching in her chest. The words were subtle, spoken with the genteel tones of high society, but the implications were unmistakable. This wasn’t about admiration - it was about leverage, about securing alliances that would benefit both families.

Her father’s smile widened, though his eyes remained as cold as ever. “It’s a consideration we’ve certainly entertained,” he said smoothly. “But Momo’s focus has been on her education and hero training. Still, when the time comes, we’ll ensure that her match reflects the values and ambitions of our family.”

As her parents’ conversation continued, Momo shifted her position slightly, keeping her expression composed even as her thoughts churned beneath the surface. The last thing she wanted was to draw attention to herself, but it seemed an impossible task.

Across the room, a group of young men her age stood near one of the tables, their laughter loud and grating as they exchanged what they likely thought were discreet comments. Momo didn’t need to hear every word to know their intent—the way their gazes lingered on her gown, the way they nudged each other and smirked, was enough to make her skin crawl.

“Can you believe that’s Yaoyorozu?” one of them said, his voice just loud enough to carry over the music. “Makes sense they’re keeping her on a leash. If I were her, I’d ditch this boring scene for something... more interesting.”

Another boy laughed, his tone dripping with mockery. “Think she’s as cold as she looks? Bet I could change that.”

Momo’s jaw tightened, though her expression remained carefully neutral. She had long since learned to ignore such comments, to let them slide off her like water against steel. But tonight, with the weight of her parents’ expectations and the suffocating atmosphere of the gala pressing down on her, it was harder than usual.

As if on cue, one of the young men approached her, his smirk as polished as the shoes he wore. “Momo, right?” he said, his voice smooth but insincere. “Mind if I join you? Thought you could use some company.”

Momo inclined her head slightly, her tone polite but distant. “Thank you, but I’m quite fine on my own.”

The boy laughed, undeterred. “Come on, no need to be shy. I’m just being friendly.”

Her smile didn’t waver, but her eyes sharpened slightly as she met his gaze directly. “I assure you, I’m not shy,” she said evenly. “But I would appreciate it if you respected my space.”

The boy hesitated for a moment, clearly taken aback by her calm yet unyielding response. Before he could recover, Momo turned her attention back to the rest of the room, her posture as composed as ever even as the tension in her chest refused to ease.

The room felt stifling. The glittering chandeliers overhead illuminated the ballroom in a golden glow that reflected off polished marble floors and sparkling jewels. Around her, conversations hummed like background noise - discussions of mergers, alliances, and other matters Momo wanted no part of. She had done her duty - offering polite smiles, nodding in agreement at all the right times, and enduring the stares of those too shameless to bother hiding their intent.

Her parents continued mingling, seamlessly weaving between groups as if they were born for this, which, she supposed, they were. Her mother's sharp gaze flicked her way every so often, ensuring her presence was visible and appropriately composed. Her father’s expression remained as unreadable as always, though his occasional glances sent a clear message: Stay in line.

But the weight of it all - the tight smiles, the shallow pleasantries, the murmured whispers - was suffocating. Every interaction felt like a transaction, every gaze like an evaluation. Momo’s poise never faltered, yet her heart longed for the fresh air, for even the smallest reprieve from the crowd that seemed to close in around her.

The young men who had been making comments earlier still lingered nearby, their voices low but their laughter unmistakably directed at her. She caught fragments of their words, dripping with arrogance and entitlement.

“Think she’s looking for someone to whisk her away? Shame she’s so untouchable.”

“Maybe if her parents weren’t breathing down her neck...”

“Bet she’s all prim and proper for show. What do you think it’d take to-”

Momo didn’t wait to hear the rest. She couldn’t. The bile that rose in her throat was unfamiliar, the anger simmering beneath her calm exterior threatening to break free. She needed to leave before the façade cracked.

Momo moved through the crowd with practiced grace, offering polite nods and murmured excuses as she made her way toward the far end of the room. The door to a smaller, private sitting room caught her eye - a place she remembered from childhood, back when she had been brought to similar events and told to entertain herself quietly.

The moment she stepped into the room, the atmosphere changed. The air was cooler, the dim light a welcome contrast to the bright glow of the ballroom. She closed the door behind her softly, exhaling as the tension in her chest eased ever so slightly. Her gaze moved across the room, settling briefly on the familiar furniture and paintings that lined the walls. It was quiet here, free from the scrutiny and expectations that clung to her like a second skin.

She walked to the window, the cool glass against her palm grounding her as she stared out at the sprawling gardens below. The distant sound of the party still reached her ears, muffled and far away, but for the first time that evening, she felt like she could breathe.

And then, faintly, she heard it.

A rhythmic beeping, quiet but distinct, cutting through the stillness of the room. Momo turned, her brows furrowing as she scanned her surroundings. The sound wasn’t coming from the ballroom - it was closer, almost as if it were within the walls of the estate itself.

“What is that?” she murmured to herself, her voice soft but steady. It grew louder, more insistent, and just as the realization began to dawn on her-

The world went black.

Chapter Text

Pain was the first thing she felt. It was sharp and unrelenting, radiating from every part of her body as if her very nerves were on fire.

A relentless, high-pitched ringing filled her ears, drowning out the world around her. It was sharp and unyielding, a constant reminder of the explosion that had torn through the estate. The muffled sounds of distant screams and the crackling of fire reached her faintly, distorted and far away, as though she were submerged underwater. Everything felt distant, yet the pain that coursed through her body was all too real.

Her eyes fluttered open, squinting against the flickering orange light that painted the room in harsh, uneven hues. It took her a moment to realize that it wasn’t sunlight - it was fire. Flames licked at the far wall, consuming the once-polished wood paneling and spreading rapidly toward her. Thick, black smoke curled upward, twisting into the air in heavy plumes that made each breath feel like a battle.

Pain radiated from every part of her body, sharp and searing. Her face throbbed with a raw, stinging sensation, the skin along her jaw and cheek burned and torn. Blood trickled from her neck, sliding down to stain the scorched fabric of her gown. Her arms ached fiercely, her right arm trembling with effort as she tried to push herself upright. Her left arm, however, was numb and unresponsive, hanging limply at her side as though it no longer belonged to her.

She coughed weakly, the acrid smoke filling her lungs and making her chest tighten painfully. Her legs felt heavy, her movements sluggish as she tried to shift her position. The floor beneath her was littered with debris - splintered wood, shattered glass, and fragments of what had once been an elegant room. The heat pressed against her skin, oppressive and suffocating, as the flames crept closer with every passing second.

Through the haze of pain and smoke, Momo’s mind raced. She needed to move, to find a way out, but her body refused to cooperate. Each attempt to rise sent fresh waves of agony through her limbs, and the dizziness that clouded her thoughts made it nearly impossible to focus. Her vision blurred, the edges darkening as exhaustion threatened to pull her under.

The distant screams grew fainter, the sound of fleeing guests fading into the background. No one was coming for her. No one even seemed to realize she was still inside, trapped amidst the wreckage and fire. The realization sent a chill through her, cutting through the heat that surrounded her like a vice.

Her gaze flicked to a shattered mirror nearby, the fractured glass reflecting the flickering flames. For a moment, she caught sight of her own face - bloodied, bruised, and streaked with soot. It was a face she barely recognized, a stark reminder of how close she had been to the source of the explosion.

Momo clenched her jaw, the sharpness of the movement grounding her in the overwhelming reality of the situation. She couldn’t afford to give in to fear, not now. She had to hold on, to fight, even if every breath felt like a struggle. But as the flames crept closer and her body grew heavier with exhaustion, the creeping darkness at the edges of her vision began to close in once more.

The heat was unbearable, pressing against Momo’s skin like an invisible weight. Her breaths came in shallow, uneven gasps, the smoke clawing at her lungs and leaving her chest tight and aching. She struggled to stay conscious, her mind fighting against the pull of exhaustion and pain. She couldn’t let herself pass out again - not now, not when the fire was growing closer with every passing second.

Her gaze flickered across the ruined room, the chaos around her both surreal and unrelenting. The fire had consumed nearly half the space, its flames crackling and roaring as they tore through what little remained of the furniture and walls. The debris scattered across the floor shifted occasionally, dislodging ash and embers that glowed faintly in the dim light.

Momo’s arms trembled as she tried to push herself upright again, her right arm bearing most of the weight while her left hung limply at her side. Her burns stung fiercely, and the glass embedded in her skin sent jolts of pain through her with every movement. Despite the agony, she refused to stop. She wouldn’t - couldn’t - let herself give up.

As she managed to sit up slightly, leaning against the remains of a toppled cabinet for support, her vision swam with dizziness. She pressed her bloodied hand against the side of her head, feeling the sticky warmth of the wound there. The ringing in her ears had faded somewhat, replaced by the faint but persistent sound of the fire consuming everything around her.

The muffled cries of fleeing guests still reached her occasionally, distant and fragmented, but they were growing fewer and farther apart. The estate’s once-bustling halls were now eerily quiet, save for the relentless roar of the flames. No one was coming. She was alone.

Momo clenched her jaw, her breathing uneven as she forced herself to think. She couldn’t rely on help - it was clear that no one even realized she hadn’t escaped with the others. If she wanted to survive, she’d have to find a way out on her own, no matter how impossible it seemed.

Her eyes scanned the room, searching desperately for anything that could serve as an escape route. The door was blocked by debris and flames, leaving the windows as her only potential option. One of the windows had been partially shattered in the blast, its frame bent and warped, but it wasn’t completely obscured by the wreckage.

She shifted her weight slightly, biting back a cry of pain as her right arm trembled with the effort. Her movements were slow and unsteady, every inch forward sending fresh waves of agony through her body. But she refused to stop - her determination was the only thing keeping her from succumbing to the fear and despair that threatened to consume her.

As she inched closer to the window, the smoke grew thicker, making her cough violently. Each ragged breath felt like a knife to her chest, but she pressed on, focusing on the faint glimmer of light filtering through the shattered glass. It was hope, fragile and distant, but hope nonetheless.

Momo’s vision blurred, her strength fading with every movement. She was so close, yet the effort felt insurmountable. Her trembling fingers reached out, brushing against the jagged edge of the window frame as her body finally gave out. She slumped against the floor, her chest heaving with shallow breaths, the darkness creeping in at the edges of her vision once again.

But even as her body faltered, her mind clung stubbornly to one thought: She wasn’t done. Not yet.

The flicker of light through the shattered window frame was both cruel and comforting - a reminder of freedom tantalizingly close yet agonizingly difficult to reach. The ringing in Momo’s ears was constant now, a faint, maddening backdrop to the roar of the flames behind her. Every breath felt like fire itself, the smoke choking her lungs and clawing at the edge of her consciousness.

Her trembling right hand pushed against the debris-laden floor, dragging her weakened body an inch closer to the window. The jagged edges of the shattered glass gleamed in the firelight, cruel but inconsequential. With what little strength she could muster, she reached for the frame, her fingers brushing against the warped metal. Her left arm hung limply by her side, its numbness sparing her the pain but leaving her unbalanced and vulnerable.

The effort to pull herself closer to the window was excruciating, her muscles screaming in protest. Her gown snagged on the wreckage beneath her, its crimson fabric darkened and torn, but she pressed forward. With a final, desperate push, she managed to grip the edge of the frame, her hand trembling as she fumbled for leverage.

Momo’s breaths came in shallow gasps as she forced herself to sit up slightly, leaning against the frame. Her chest heaved, each inhale dragging smoke deeper into her lungs, but she refused to stop. Pressing her hand against the frame, she pushed weakly, her strength faltering but her determination unwavering.

At last, the window creaked open slightly, the warped metal groaning in protest but yielding just enough to create an escape. The cool night air rushed in, a stark contrast to the oppressive heat that surrounded her. Momo’s vision swam with dizziness as she pulled herself closer to the opening, her body trembling under the strain.

With a final effort, she shifted her weight forward and rolled out of the window, the momentum carrying her down to the ground below. She landed on her limp left arm, the impact dull and painless but jarring. The cold earth met her with an unforgiving thud, and for a moment, she lay there, her body unmoving as her chest heaved with ragged breaths.

The cool air was a reprieve, filling her lungs and clearing the haze of smoke just enough for her to take in her surroundings. The estate’s sprawling gardens stretched around her, bathed in the eerie orange glow of the fire that consumed the main building. The faint sound of sirens reached her ears, growing louder with each passing moment. Voices, too, called out in the distance - frantic shouting from what sounded like police officers, paramedics, reporters, and firefighters.

Momo tried to move, to stand, but her body refused to comply. Her right arm trembled as she pressed it weakly against the ground, but her strength was gone, her limbs heavy with exhaustion and pain. Her vision blurred once more, the edges darkening as the sirens grew louder. The shouting voices were closer now, but they felt distant, as if she were hearing them through a fog.

She exhaled shakily, her strength finally giving out as the weight of everything - the fire, the injuries, the suffocating fear - pressed down on her. The world faded to black, her last fleeting thought a stubborn, desperate hope that someone would find her in time.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The fire roared with a relentless fury, its orange flames casting an ominous glow against the night sky. Thick plumes of black smoke twisted upward, curling like grotesque shadows that blotted out the stars. Shouto’s heart was pounding as he stepped off the emergency vehicle, his mismatched eyes taking in the scene before him - the sprawling Yaoyorozu estate engulfed in chaos.

Heroes, firefighters, and first responders were already scattered across the grounds, shouting orders and working tirelessly to contain the blaze. The sirens wailed, piercing through the air as the press gathered at the edges of the estate’s barriers, their cameras flashing like lightning in the dark.

Shouto barely registered the noise. His mind was focused on one thing - Momo. She hadn’t come back to the dorms tonight, and when the call came in about the fire at her family’s estate, his chest had tightened with a suffocating urgency. Now, as he stood amidst the chaos, that urgency had turned to outright panic. She had to be here. She had to be safe.

He activated his right side, the icy chill spreading through his body as he stepped toward the flames. His Half-Cold Quirk was invaluable in situations like this, the frost rapidly cooling the areas he passed as firefighters moved in to douse the remaining embers. Yet his Half-Hot side made him nearly immune to the flames themselves, his fire resistance allowing him to move through the inferno without injury.

Shouto’s movements were swift and purposeful, his gaze scanning the estate with sharp precision. Guests were being ushered out of the burning building, coughing and dazed but alive. He recognized some of their faces - figures from high society, businessmen and women who had likely been present for whatever grand event the Yaoyorozus had hosted tonight.

But there was no sign of Momo.

Shouto pushed past the crowd, his mismatched eyes narrowing as he approached one of the responders. “Has anyone seen Yaoyorozu?” he asked, his tone calm but edged with urgency.

The responder shook his head. “Not personally, but most of the guests are accounted for,” he replied quickly. “If she was here, she should have gotten out with the others.”

Should have. The words twisted uncomfortably in Shouto’s chest, his mind racing as doubt began to creep in. He knew Momo - knew how composed and careful she was - but something about this felt wrong. He couldn’t shake the gnawing unease that told him she hadn’t escaped, that she was still inside.

He spotted her parents near the edge of the crowd, both looking unruffled despite the chaos surrounding them. Hidoi’s expression was sharp as she spoke to a reporter, her voice clear and authoritative. Zankoku stood nearby, his usual charm on display as he reassured another guest. Neither of them seemed to be searching for Momo, nor did they appear concerned about her absence.

Shouto’s jaw tightened as he turned away from them, the cold spreading further across his body as he moved toward the building. If no one else was going to care, then he would.

The flames inside the estate were fiercer than he’d expected, licking hungrily at the walls and ceiling as debris fell with loud crashes. The air was thick with smoke, making it difficult to see, but Shouto’s fire resistance allowed him to move quickly through the wreckage. He called out her name as he searched, his voice steady but loud enough to cut through the roar of the fire.

“Yaoyorozu!” he shouted, his mismatched eyes scanning the destroyed rooms. “Momo!”

There was no response, only the relentless crackle of flames and the occasional sound of collapsing beams. The suffocating heat and smoke pressed against him, but his quirk kept him steady, the frost forming across his skin cooling the air around him just enough to breathe.

His heart raced faster with every step he took, the panic clawing at his chest. What if she was trapped? What if she couldn’t call for help? He forced himself to focus, his eyes flicking to every corner of the room for any sign of her. But the more he searched, the deeper his fear grew.

Until he heard it.

A faint thud, barely audible over the fire, came from outside the building. Shouto froze for half a second before turning sharply, his instincts guiding him toward the sound. He moved swiftly, ignoring the flames as he pushed through the wreckage and reached the nearest window. The glass was shattered, the warped frame bent outward - someone had escaped through here.

He climbed out carefully, landing on the scorched ground outside as his gaze searched desperately for her. And then he saw her.

Momo lay motionless on the grass, her gown torn and bloodied, her face streaked with soot and ash. Her left arm hung limply, and her chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths. Shouto’s heart clenched painfully as he dropped to his knees beside her, his hands hovering uncertainly before carefully resting against her shoulder.

“Momo,” he said softly, his voice trembling despite his efforts to stay composed. “Momo, wake up.”

She didn’t respond. The faint sound of sirens and shouting reached him, growing louder as responders began to move closer. Shouto turned toward the building briefly, his mismatched eyes narrowing in determination before focusing on her again. He wasn’t going to leave her - not until he knew she was safe.

Shouto’s breath hitched as he knelt next to Momo, his mismatched eyes scanning her injuries in a flash. Her face was bruised and bloodied, streaked with soot and ash that smeared the contours of her jaw and cheek. Her gown hung in tatters, exposing burns and cuts that marred her pale skin. His gaze lingered briefly on her left arm, which hung limp at her side, and he winced as he noticed the glass embedded in her forearms and the dried blood staining her neck.

Her chest rose and fell, shallow but steady, a fragile reassurance that she was still alive. “You’re okay,” he murmured softly, though the words were more for himself than for her. His hands hovered above her for a moment, unsure of where to touch her without causing further pain.

The wail of sirens pierced the night, growing louder now that emergency responders were moving deeper into the estate grounds. Shouto exhaled sharply, his focus narrowing on what he had to do. Gently but swiftly, he slipped his arms under her - one cradling her back and shoulders, the other supporting her knees. Her body felt lighter than he’d expected, fragile against the strength of his grip.

“I’ve got you,” he said quietly, his voice low but steady. “You’re going to be okay.”

The gardens were eerily quiet, their once-meticulous landscaping now bathed in the orange glow of the still-raging fire behind him. Shouto moved quickly but carefully, his boots crunching against the scorched grass and scattered debris as he made his way toward the responders. The cool night air helped counter the oppressive heat radiating from the building, but the weight in his chest felt heavier with every step.

Momo’s head lolled against his shoulder, her breaths shallow and uneven. He glanced down at her as he moved, his jaw tightening at the sight of her injuries. The stubborn fear he had tried to push away crept back in, but he refused to let it overwhelm him. She was alive - that was all that mattered for now.

The glow of flashing lights came into view as he rounded the corner of the estate. Police officers and paramedics were scattered across the grounds, directing evacuees and assessing the injured. Shouto’s pace quickened, his boots striking the ground harder as he pushed through his own growing exhaustion.

“Over here!” he called out, his voice cutting through the commotion. “I need help!”

A pair of paramedics turned toward him immediately, their expressions shifting to urgency as they grabbed their equipment and rushed to meet him. Shouto lowered himself to one knee as they approached, his arms still cradling Momo protectively.

“She inhaled a lot of smoke,” he said, his voice clipped but calm. “Burns, cuts - her left arm is unresponsive. She hasn’t woken up since I found her.”

The paramedics nodded quickly, their hands already moving to assess her injuries. One of them placed an oxygen mask over her mouth and nose, while the other began inspecting her burns and checking her pulse. Shouto forced himself to let go as they worked, his hands trembling faintly as he stepped back to give them space.

“She’s stable for now,” one of the paramedics said, glancing up at him. “But she needs to be transported immediately.”

“I’ll come with you,” Shouto replied without hesitation, his tone firm.

The paramedic hesitated for a moment before nodding. “All right. Let’s move.”

As the paramedics lifted Momo onto a stretcher, Shouto followed closely, his gaze never leaving her pale, soot-streaked face. The flames from the estate continued to roar in the background, but he barely registered the sound anymore. His mind was consumed with the image of her lying unconscious, her usually composed and confident demeanor replaced by vulnerability.

He clenched his fists at his sides, the cold from his right side spreading unconsciously across his body. A heavy weight settled in his chest as he climbed into the ambulance with her, sitting silently beside the stretcher as the doors closed behind them.

He didn’t speak, his worry written plainly on his face as the vehicle began to move. All he could do was watch over her, his mismatched eyes focused on her shallow breathing and the faint rise and fall of her chest. Whatever happened tonight, he wouldn’t leave her side. Not until she woke up. Not until he knew she was okay.

The soft wail of the siren filled the air, the sound both urgent and repetitive as the ambulance sped toward the hospital. Shouto sat silently beside Momo’s stretcher, his mismatched eyes fixed on her soot-streaked face. Her shallow breathing was a fragile reassurance, but every rise and fall of her chest felt agonizingly slow, as though time itself had slowed to taunt him.

The paramedics worked quietly, monitoring her vitals and tending to her wounds as best they could during the ride. Shouto’s right hand rested lightly on his knee, his fingers clenching intermittently as the weight of everything settled in his chest. He exhaled sharply, his gaze flicking briefly to his phone before he finally reached for it.

He stared at the screen for a moment, the glow illuminating his face as he scrolled to find Sero’s name. Momo had never explicitly said much about her bond with her cousin, but Shouto knew enough to understand their connection ran deep. If anyone deserved to know, it was Sero.

The phone rang once, then twice, before a familiar voice answered. “Yo, Todoroki!” Sero said, his usual lighthearted tone coming through even over the faint noise of the ambulance. “What’s up, man?”

Shouto’s throat tightened briefly before he managed to speak. “Sero, it’s about Momo. She’s hurt.”

The lightness in Sero’s voice vanished instantly, replaced by alarm. “Wait, what?! Hurt how? What happened?”

Shouto glanced at Momo, his tone calm but laced with urgency as he explained. “There was an explosion at the Yaoyorozu estate. She was caught in the fire - burns, cuts, smoke inhalation. She’s unconscious. I found her outside before the responders could.”

Sero was silent for a moment, his breath audible over the line before he responded, his voice sharper now. “Where is she? Where are you? Which hospital are you going to?”

Shouto relayed the information quickly, his movements precise as he checked the address with the paramedics. “We’re on the way to Central General. She’s stable, but she needs treatment immediately.”

“I’m coming,” Sero said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ll grab Kaminari - he’s been worried about her all day - and let the others know. Jirou especially... she’ll want to know. We’ll be there as fast as we can.”

As the ambulance pulled into the hospital, Shouto stepped out first, his movements purposeful as he helped the paramedics unload Momo’s stretcher. His classmates’ reactions echoed faintly in the back of his mind, but he couldn’t focus on anything other than the girl lying pale and still before him.

He followed the paramedics closely as they rushed her inside, his mismatched eyes scanning every movement as they transferred her to a room for immediate care. The sterile smell of the hospital mingled with the residual scent of smoke on his uniform, grounding him in the overwhelming reality of the situation.

Shouto didn’t speak as they worked, his presence silent but unwavering. His classmates would arrive soon, no doubt bringing their own blend of worry and chaos. But for now, he was content to stay by her side, his quiet determination keeping him anchored as he waited for any sign of her waking.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The hallway outside the dorm rooms was usually a place of light-hearted chaos - laughing, teasing, loud voices bouncing off the walls. But tonight, the mood was entirely different. Sero paced back and forth, his phone clutched tightly in one hand as he stared at the messages pouring in from his classmates.

Momo was hurt. The thought churned in his chest, sharp and unrelenting. The cousin he’d grown up alongside, who had spent hours sneaking into his family’s home to escape the suffocating expectations of her parents - the person who, despite everything, had always carried herself with unwavering grace and composure - was now lying unconscious in a hospital bed.

He’d barely had time to process Shouto’s call before grabbing Kaminari and heading straight to the common room to tell the others. Kaminari’s reaction had been instant, his voice loud enough to carry through half the building.

“Momo’s hurt?!” Kaminari exclaimed, his hands gripping the back of a couch as he looked at Sero with wide eyes. “What do you mean she’s hurt? What happened?”

Sero ran a hand through his hair, his usual grin replaced by a tight, strained expression. “Explosion at her estate,” he said, his voice steadier than he felt. “Fire. Todoroki found her outside, unconscious. She’s stable, but-” He paused, the weight of the situation hanging in the air. “It’s bad, Kami.”

The news spread like wildfire, just as Sero had known it would. Kyouka was the next to join them, her usual calm demeanor replaced by quiet urgency as she stepped into the room.

“Where is she?” Kyouka asked immediately, her voice sharp and direct. “What happened?”

Sero didn’t hesitate, repeating the details he’d shared with Kaminari. “Central General. Todoroki’s with her.”

Kyouka’s brows furrowed, and for a moment, her lips pressed into a thin line. Then, without another word, she grabbed her jacket and headed toward the door. Sero followed her, knowing she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

By now, most of the class had gathered in the common room, their voices overlapping in a mix of concern and determination. Even Bakugou, who rarely expressed his thoughts, looked unsettled, his usual scowl replaced by a furrowed brow.

“She’ll be fine, right?” Hagakure said softly, her voice carrying a faint tremor. “She’s so strong - there’s no way she won’t be okay.”

“She will be fine,” Iida said firmly, his hands clenched into fists. “We must trust that Momo’s resilience will see her through.”

“We’ve gotta go see her!” Mina declared, her usual energy tempered by worry. “She’s one of us - we can’t just sit here waiting for news!”

Sero tried to stay composed as his classmates rallied together, their concern for Momo clear in every word and action. But the weight of his own worry pressed heavily against his chest, a gnawing ache that refused to ease. He thought back to the nights when Momo had confided in him, her voice soft but steady as she spoke of her struggles. The way she had smiled, quietly grateful, even in moments of pain - it stayed with him now, sharper than ever.

“She’s strong,” he thought, his grip tightening around his phone. “She’s always been strong. But even she shouldn’t have to face this alone.”

By the time the group reached Central General, their presence was impossible to miss. Sero led the way, his usual carefree demeanor replaced by a quiet urgency that matched the mood of the group. Kaminari stuck close to his side, his expression unusually serious as he clutched his phone tightly.

Kyouka walked ahead, her steps purposeful and unyielding, while Mina and Iida exchanged words of reassurance with the others who had come. Even Bakugou, though reluctant, had followed, his silence speaking volumes about his own concern.

As they stepped inside the hospital, Sero exhaled sharply, his eyes scanning the sterile halls for any sign of Shouto or Momo. His heart raced with anticipation, but there was one thought that stayed at the forefront of his mind: No matter what happened next, they would be there for her. They always had been. They always would be.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The minutes stretched on endlessly as Shouto sat in the corner of the hospital waiting area, his elbows resting on his knees, his head bowed. The fluorescent lights overhead cast a harsh glow, their stark brightness contrasting painfully with the dark tension that weighed heavily in his chest. His clothes smelled faintly of smoke, a reminder of the fire he had just escaped, and every so often, his fingers flexed unconsciously as if the phantom heat still lingered against his skin.

The rest of Class 2-A began filtering in, their voices a mix of urgency and quiet worry. Shouto looked up as Sero arrived first, his steps brisk and his expression uncharacteristically serious. Kaminari was close behind, his usual easygoing grin replaced by a furrowed brow that made him look oddly mature. Kyouka entered moments later, her face pale but determined as her sharp eyes scanned the room.

Sero immediately approached him, his voice steady but tight. “Where is she?”

“They’re working on her,” Shouto replied, his tone calm but strained. His gaze flicked briefly to the closed doors of the emergency room. “She hasn’t woken up yet.”

Sero’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, his usual lighthearted demeanor seemed miles away. “She’ll be okay,” he said, though it was unclear whether he was trying to reassure Shouto or himself.

Kyouka stepped closer, her gaze fixed on the doors as if willing them to open. “What happened in there?” she asked, her voice quieter but no less urgent. “How did it get this bad?”

Shouto hesitated briefly, the memory of Momo’s fragile, unconscious form flashing in his mind. “It was the fire,” he said finally. “I didn’t see the explosion, but by the time I arrived, the flames had already consumed most of the building. No one seemed to notice she wasn’t outside. No one except...”

He trailed off, his chest tightening as he remembered the cold indifference of Momo’s parents, their complete lack of concern even as the estate burned behind them. He clenched his fists at the thought, his mismatched eyes narrowing briefly before he forced himself to focus.

“I found her in the garden,” he continued. “She must have gotten out through a window. But she was-” His voice faltered, and he exhaled sharply, steadying himself. “She was barely breathing.”

As more of Class 2-A arrived, the waiting area grew noisier. Mina rushed in next, her expression a mix of worry and determination as she made a beeline for Kyouka. Iida followed closely behind, his posture rigid as he moved with precise steps. Even Bakugo had appeared, though he lingered near the back, his arms crossed and his scowl deepened by the faint tension in his gaze.

“We’re not leaving until we know she’s okay,” Mina declared, her voice firm as she addressed the group. “She’d do the same for any of us.”

“Of course,” Iida replied, his tone resolute. “We are here as her classmates and her friends. We will support her in any way we can.”

Kyouka crossed her arms, her gaze still fixed on the emergency room doors. “I just want to see her,” she murmured, her usual sharp tone softened by worry. “She’s always so... composed. It’s hard to imagine her like this.”

Kaminari nodded silently, his usual chatter replaced by an unusual stillness. Sero placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, though his own expression remained tight.

As the group settled into the waiting area, their presence brought a sense of solidarity that, despite the circumstances, was oddly comforting. They spoke quietly, exchanging words of concern and support, their collective worry for Momo tying them together in an unspoken bond.

Shouto sat apart from the others, his thoughts spinning as he replayed the events of the night in his mind. The fire, the search, the sight of Momo lying unconscious amidst the chaos—it all felt like a blur, yet every detail remained sharp and vivid in his memory.

He glanced at the closed doors once more, his mismatched eyes narrowing with quiet determination. She had to wake up. She had to.

As his classmates’ voices filled the space around him, he leaned back slightly, exhaling softly. Whatever happened, whatever it took, he would be here. For her.

Sero leaned against the edge of the waiting room couch, his elbows resting on his knees as he fiddled with his phone absentmindedly. He wasn’t scrolling, nor was he checking any new messages - he was just holding it, turning it over in his hands as his mind raced. The sterile scent of the hospital hung thick in the air, mingling with the faint hum of machinery and the distant murmurs of medical staff moving through the hallways.

Momo was hurt. That thought had settled in his chest like a stone, heavy and cold and impossible to ignore. No matter how much the others reassured him - or how much he tried to reassure them - he couldn’t shake the lingering fear. The image of her unconscious, bloodied, and barely breathing had been painted in his mind from the moment Todoroki had called. And now, all he could do was wait.

Around him, his classmates filled the waiting room, their presence a quiet but palpable testament to how much Momo meant to them. Kyouka sat across from him, her arms crossed tightly and her gaze fixed on the emergency room doors. Mina paced near the wall, her steps quick and uneven, while Kaminari leaned against the counter, his face unusually serious. Even Bakugo had joined them, though he lingered near the back, his usual scowl softened by faint tension.

Sero glanced at Todoroki, who remained in the corner, his posture rigid and his mismatched eyes locked on the closed doors. “How’s he even staying that calm?” Sero wondered briefly before catching himself. It wasn’t calm - he could see it now. Todoroki’s knuckles were white, his grip on his knees tight. He wasn’t unaffected; he was just holding it in.

Iida spoke quietly with Hagakure and Tokoyami, his words measured but firm as he reassured them that Momo was in capable hands. Yaoyorozu’s strength was undeniable, he said, and they had no reason to doubt her resilience.

“She’s going to make it through this,” Iida declared, his voice steady. “We must trust in her determination.”

Tokoyami nodded solemnly, his shadow flickering faintly in the fluorescent light. “Indeed,” he said. “Her spirit is unyielding, even in the face of adversity.”

The others murmured their agreement, though the tension in the room was still palpable. It wasn’t just worry for Momo - it was frustration, anger even, directed at the situation itself. They’d all heard about her parents’ indifference, and while no one said it outright, the unspoken judgment hung heavily between them. How could they not care? How could they act as though their daughter’s absence was inconsequential?

Kyouka broke the silence, her voice sharp but quiet as she addressed Sero. “She’s strong, right? Stronger than anyone gives her credit for.”

Sero nodded, his grip on his phone tightening. “Yeah,” he replied, his voice steady despite the ache in his chest. “She always has been.”

Minutes felt like hours as the waiting room remained suspended in uneasy quiet. Every so often, the sound of footsteps would echo through the halls, drawing the group’s attention to the emergency room doors. But no updates came. No answers.

Sero’s mind wandered as he stared at the floor, his thoughts drifting to the memories he shared with Momo - the times she had come to his house for comfort, the quiet conversations about hero work and family, the way she had smiled when she felt safe enough to let her guard down.

“She’ll make it,” he thought, though the words felt hollow. “She has to.”

Kaminari nudged him lightly, his expression strained but faintly reassuring. “She’s tougher than she looks,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. “She’ll bounce back. You’ll see.”

Sero nodded, though his heart still weighed heavily in his chest. “Yeah,” he said simply. “Yeah, she will.”

Kaminari leaned against the hospital wall, arms crossed tightly as he tapped his foot against the tile floor in a restless rhythm. His usual bright energy was nowhere to be found, replaced instead by an anxious tension that made it impossible for him to keep still. His gaze flickered to the emergency room doors for what felt like the thousandth time, his heart heavy with worry.

Momo was his best friend, the person who had always been there for him no matter what. She’d helped him through exams, encouraged him when he doubted himself, and even laughed at his terrible jokes when no one else would. And now, the thought of her lying hurt in the next room, unconscious and vulnerable, was almost too much to handle.

“She’ll be fine, right?” he asked, his voice low and strained as he glanced toward Sero, who sat nearby. “I mean, it’s Momo. She’s... she’s got this.”

Sero looked up from his phone, his usually laid-back demeanor replaced by a rare seriousness. “Yeah,” he said firmly, though the tightness in his voice betrayed his worry. “She’s tough, Kami. She’ll pull through.”

Kaminari nodded quickly, trying to convince himself. He looked over at Kyouka, who sat a short distance away, her arms crossed and her headphones dangling loosely around her neck. Her posture was tense, her fingers drumming lightly against the arm of her chair.

“She’s too stubborn not to be okay,” Kaminari muttered, forcing a small, shaky grin as he gestured toward Kyouka. “Right, babe? You know how she is. She’d hate knowing we’re all freaking out like this.”

Kyouka met his gaze, her lips twitching faintly in what might have been an attempt at a smile. “Yeah,” she said softly, her voice steady despite the worry in her tone. “She’d roll her eyes at us and tell us to relax.”

Her words drew a weak chuckle from Kaminari, though the sound felt hollow. He hated this - hated the not knowing, the waiting, the helplessness of it all. Momo was his best friend, and Kyouka was like her little sister. They were both so important to him, and seeing one of them hurt, knowing the other was struggling to stay strong - it made his chest ache in a way he couldn’t explain.

The waiting was unbearable. Jirou sat stiffly on the edge of her seat, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she stared at the emergency room doors. Her headphones rested around her neck, but for once, they weren’t providing the usual comfort she sought in moments of stress. The steady hum of the hospital was grating on her nerves, every sound amplified by the tension that had settled in her chest.

She couldn’t stop thinking about Momo - her big sister in everything but blood. She hadn’t always thought of her that way. Back in their first year, she’d had a small crush on her, captivated by Momo’s poise and brilliance. But as time passed, that admiration had shifted into something deeper and more familial. Momo had become her role model, her confidante, the person she trusted most when she needed advice. And now, knowing she was hurt and unconscious in the next room, Jirou felt like her world had tilted on its axis.

The sound of approaching footsteps snapped her out of her thoughts, and her head shot up as a doctor stepped out of the emergency room. Jirou was on her feet in an instant, her heart pounding as she met the doctor halfway.

“Is she okay?” she asked quickly, her voice sharper than she intended.

The doctor nodded, her tone calm but professional as she addressed the group. “She’s stable. She inhaled a significant amount of smoke, and she has burns and lacerations that required treatment, but none of her injuries are life-threatening. Her left arm is numb due to nerve compression, but it should recover with time and physical therapy.”

A collective sigh of relief swept through the room, and Jirou let out a shaky breath, the tension in her shoulders easing ever so slightly. But the doctor wasn’t finished.

“She’s still unconscious,” the doctor added gently. “Her body needs time to recover from the trauma and exhaustion. But she’s strong. She’s been fighting.”

Jirou nodded, her fingers brushing lightly against the cord of her headphones. “Can we see her?”

The doctor hesitated briefly before nodding. “Only a few at a time, and only for a short while. She needs as much rest as possible.”

Jirou turned to Kaminari, her protective instincts kicking in as she gestured toward him. “Denki, go. You should be the first one to see her.”

Kaminari froze for a moment, his gaze shifting from Jirou to Sero. He hesitated, biting his lower lip as his usual nervous energy bubbled just beneath the surface. Momo was his best friend, someone he cared deeply about - but she was also Sero’s cousin, family in a way that no one else could truly claim. Kaminari worried that stepping forward might feel like overstepping, and his uncertainty showed in the way he glanced at Sero for reassurance.

Sero met his gaze without hesitation, his own worry clear but tempered by a quiet understanding. “Go, Kami,” Sero said softly, his voice steady despite the heavy weight in his tone. “She’d want you there. I’ll get my turn - it’s yours right now.”

The encouragement was enough to push Kaminari into motion. He exhaled shakily, nodding quickly as he squared his shoulders and stepped toward the doctor waiting by the emergency room doors. “Thanks, man,” he murmured, his voice low but genuine, before turning back to follow the doctor inside.

Sero watched him go, his chest tightening as the door closed behind them. He ran a hand through his hair, releasing a slow breath as he glanced back at Jirou, who was already watching him with quiet concern.

Chapter Text

The Class 2-A dorm common room buzzed with a tense energy as a group of students gathered, their concern for Momo still weighing heavily on their minds. The news of her condition had been shared among the class, but one critical step remained - they needed to inform the staff, including Principal Nezu, about what had happened.

Sero was the first to speak, his usually easygoing demeanor replaced with something far more serious. “We need to tell Aizawa-Sensei and the others,” he said firmly, glancing around at his classmates. “If they don’t already know, they need to hear it from us.”

“They might’ve seen it on the news,” Mina said hesitantly, her voice softer than usual. “But we can’t assume they know everything. They’ll want to hear about Momo’s condition.”

Kyouka nodded, her expression grim. “She’s still part of this class - even if they know about the fire, they might not know she got caught in it.”

Kaminari stepped forward, rubbing the back of his neck as he exchanged a glance with Jirou. “Yeah, we can’t just sit here and wait for them to figure it out. Who’s going with me to tell them?”

Iida straightened his posture immediately, his authoritative tone cutting through the tension. “I will accompany you. This is a matter of utmost importance, and as her classmates, it is our responsibility to ensure the staff is fully informed.”

It didn’t take long for Kaminari, Jirou, Sero, and Iida to arrive at the teacher’s lounge, their steps brisk and purposeful. Inside, Aizawa-Sensei sat at a desk with his ever-present sleeping bag nearby, his expression unreadable as he sifted through paperwork. All Might stood in the corner, his skeletal form a stark contrast to the larger-than-life persona he once displayed. Cementoss and Ectoplasm were seated at a nearby table, their heads turning as the students entered, while Snipe stood leaning against the wall, his arms crossed.

The students hesitated briefly before Iida stepped forward, his voice clear and steady despite the underlying tension. “Aizawa-Sensei, All Might-Sensei, Cementoss-Sensei, Snipe-Sensei, Ectoplasm-Sensei - we need to inform you of an urgent matter regarding Yaoyorozu.”

Aizawa-Sensei’s gaze lifted from his papers, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as he took in the students’ expressions. “What happened?” he asked, his voice low and direct.

Kaminari glanced at Iida, who nodded encouragingly. Taking a deep breath, Kaminari launched into an explanation. “There was a fire at the Yaoyorozu estate tonight - an explosion started it. Momo was... caught in it. She inhaled smoke, and she’s got burns and cuts, but the doctors said she’s stable.”

“She’s unconscious right now,” Jirou added, her voice quieter but no less resolute. “They said she’s been fighting. She’s strong, but... we thought you should know.”

All Might’s eyes widened briefly, a flicker of worry crossing his gaunt features before he nodded firmly. “Thank you for bringing this to us,” he said, his voice filled with quiet resolve. “Yaoyorozu is a remarkable young hero-in-training. I’m certain she’ll pull through.”

Cementoss leaned forward, his gravelly voice steady. “Which hospital is she at?”

“Central General,” Iida replied promptly. “Todoroki is there with her now, and we’ve all been taking turns staying updated on her condition.”

Snipe’s gloved hands tightened briefly against his arms before he spoke. “She’s a fighter,” he said simply. “She’ll get through this.”

Aizawa-Sensei sighed softly, leaning back in his chair as he closed his eyes for a moment. “You did the right thing coming to us,” he said finally. “We’ll keep tabs on her condition and do whatever we can to support her. Let the rest of the class know we’re aware, and if any of you need anything, you come straight to us.”

The students nodded, the tension in the room easing slightly as they felt the weight of their responsibility shift to those they trusted most.

The group left the teacher’s lounge and headed straight for Principal Nezu’s office, their nerves still on edge despite the reassurances they had received. The small but brilliant creature was seated at his desk when they arrived, his bright eyes glinting with curiosity as he greeted them.

“Ah, Class 2-A,” Nezu said cheerfully, though his tone softened when he noticed their somber expressions. “How can I assist you?”

Iida stepped forward once again, bowing respectfully. “Principal Nezu, we wish to inform you of an incident involving Yaoyorozu. There was a fire at her family’s estate tonight, and she was injured in the explosion. She is stable but currently unconscious at Central General Hospital.”

Nezu’s expression grew serious as he processed the information. “I see,” he said thoughtfully, his paws steepled in front of him. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention. Yaoyorozu is an invaluable member of Class 2-A, and I trust the medical professionals are providing her with the care she needs.”

“They are,” Jirou said quietly. “But she’ll need time to recover.”

Nezu nodded solemnly, his bright eyes filled with a mix of concern and determination. “And recover she will. Yaoyorozu is not only an exceptional student but also a resilient young hero. Please extend my best wishes to her, and know that the faculty and I are here to support you all during this difficult time.”

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The rhythmic beeping of the machines was the only sound in the room, their steady pulse a fragile reminder that Momo was still alive. Shouto sat motionless in the chair beside her bed, his elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward, his mismatched eyes focused solely on her.

Momo lay pale and unmoving, her body swathed in bandages that seemed to highlight the severity of her injuries. Her right arm was entirely covered, from shoulder to fingertips, the stark white fabric hiding the burns that he knew would scar. Her left arm was less damaged, with only her forearm wrapped, but the sight of it still made his chest tighten. Her right shoulder was bandaged as well, extending up to her neck, jaw, and partially her cheek. The bandages wrapped carefully but securely around her neck and jawline, covering the area where burns had seared her skin and ensuring the wounds beneath were protected.

Her face was a painful juxtaposition of old and new injuries. The faint scar from the Forest Training Camp curved along her left temple to her cheek, a reminder of a past fight, but now it was joined by fresh injuries that marred the delicate line of her jaw. The oxygen mask covering her nose and mouth obscured her expression, leaving her features unnaturally still.

The burns and lacerations had been carefully treated, but the knowledge that they would scar filled Shouto with an ache he couldn’t quite name. She had fought so hard to escape the flames, and while she had survived, the cost was written all over her body.

Shouto exhaled slowly, his gaze lingering on her bandaged form. He had wanted to sit closer, to reach out and hold her hand, but he hesitated, unsure of where he could touch her without causing pain. Instead, he rested his hands on his knees, his fingers tightening into fists before relaxing again. The memory of finding her - broken, bloodied, barely breathing - was seared into his mind, and no matter how many times he reminded himself that she was safe now, the image wouldn’t fade.

“She’ll wake up,” he murmured quietly, his voice steady despite the lump in his throat. “She’s strong. She’ll wake up.”

He thought back to the fire, to the way the flames had raged uncontrollably as he searched the estate. His fire-resistant left side had protected him, but it had offered no shield for her. She had been inside for too long, her injuries evidence of how close she’d come to losing everything. The thought made his chest tighten, anger and helplessness warring within him.

His gaze fell to her right arm again, the bandages stark and final. He knew the scars would remain, a permanent reminder of what had happened. But they were also a testament to her strength, to the fight she’d put up against impossible odds.

The faint sound of voices outside the room reached his ears, but Shouto didn’t turn to look. His classmates were still here, waiting their turns to visit her, sharing updates and offering one another comfort. He was grateful for their presence, even if he couldn’t bring himself to join them. For now, his focus was entirely on Momo.

He leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on the edge of the bed as he spoke softly. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said, his voice firm but quiet. “You’ve done enough, Momo. You can rest. I’ll be here.”

The words hung in the air, a quiet promise as he settled back into his chair. He didn’t know how long it would take for her to wake up, but it didn’t matter. He would stay as long as she needed him.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The training field felt emptier than usual, even though Class 2-A was working diligently to complete the day’s exercises. Shouto stood near the edge, his Half-Cold side active as he focused on the precision of his ice projections. The sharp, clean lines he created mirrored the quiet focus he tried to maintain, but his thoughts kept drifting.

Momo’s absence was palpable. He hadn’t realized just how integral her presence was to their class until she wasn’t there - her calm leadership, her unwavering support, her thoughtful contributions to every problem. Every time he glanced toward where she would usually stand, directing strategies or brainstorming solutions, the void was impossible to ignore.

When the training session ended, Shouto stayed back, his mismatched eyes scanning the horizon as his classmates began to file out. Iida gave him a brief nod, his expression resolute but tinged with quiet worry, while Kaminari exchanged a glance with him before heading toward Jirou. Shouto remained still, the cool air of his ice lingering around him as he silently wished for her recovery.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The hum of the classroom was familiar, but Sero couldn’t bring himself to focus. His eyes flickered toward the empty desk where Momo usually sat, her absence gnawing at the edges of his concentration. He leaned back in his chair, his mind drifting between memories of her and the conversations he’d had with Kaminari and Jirou earlier that week. They were all worried - even Bakugou, though he’d never admit it outright.

When the bell rang for a short break, Sero stepped into the hallway for some air. The buzz of students moving to and from their classrooms filled the space, but it barely registered as he leaned against the wall.

“Hanta,” a familiar voice called softly. He turned his head to see Setsuna approaching, her grin subdued but warm as she slipped away from her classmates to join him. “I figured you’d need this.”

Before he could respond, she wrapped her arms around him, her hold firm and comforting. “She’s going to be okay,” Setsuna murmured against his shoulder. “You know how tough she is. And in the meantime, you’ve got me here to worry with you.”

Sero chuckled quietly, the tension in his chest easing slightly as he hugged her back. “Thanks, Setsu. You’re kind of amazing, you know?”

“Of course I am,” she replied with a teasing smirk, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. “Someone has to keep you grounded.”

Kaminari sat cross-legged on the couch in the common room, absentmindedly sparking small currents of electricity between his fingertips. He glanced toward Jirou, who was leaning against his side, her headphones dangling loosely around her neck. The silence between them wasn’t awkward, but it was heavy - each of them lost in their thoughts.

“She’s gonna be fine, right?” Kaminari asked suddenly, his voice soft but insistent.

Jirou sighed, tilting her head slightly to look up at him. “She has to be,” she replied. “There’s no way Yaomomo would let something like this keep her down.”

Kaminari nodded, his lips twitching into a faint smile. “Yeah. She’s tough. Like you.”

Jirou rolled her eyes, though her smirk betrayed her amusement. “You’re ridiculous,” she muttered, lightly elbowing him. “But thanks.”

Kaminari leaned down to press a quick kiss to her forehead. “Anytime, babe.”

Izuku watched nervously as Ochako paced near the window of the Class A common room, her steps quick and uneven. Her usual cheerful energy was muted, replaced by a quiet distress that made Izuku’s chest ache. The girls in Class A were incredibly close, and Ochako had always admired Momo’s poise and kindness. Now, with Momo hurt and recovering in the hospital, Ochako’s worry had reached its breaking point.

“She’s so strong,” Ochako said, her voice trembling as she turned to face him. “But what if- what if it’s too much this time? What if...?”

Izuku stepped forward hesitantly, his nervous energy bubbling beneath the surface. “Uraraka,” he began softly, his voice steady despite the slight tremor in his hands. “Yaoyorozu is... incredible. She’s been through so much, and she’s always come out stronger. This time will be no different.”

Ochako’s lips quivered as she tried to hold herself together, but her shoulders shook as the tears finally spilled over. “I’m scared for her,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “She doesn’t deserve this.”

Without thinking, Izuku closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her. The hug was tentative at first, as though he were afraid of crossing some invisible boundary, but as Ochako buried her face against his shoulder and clung to him tightly, he relaxed.

“She’ll be okay,” Izuku said quietly, his words firm and filled with quiet determination. “And we’ll be here for her. Together.”

Ochako nodded against him, her grip on him easing slightly as she allowed herself to find comfort in his presence. “Thank you, Izuku,” she whispered.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The hospital room was quiet, save for the soft beeping of the monitors and the occasional murmurs from her visitors. Class 2-A had made a point of taking turns visiting Momo, ensuring she was never alone for too long. Sometimes it was one or two of them; other times, it was a small group, their presence a constant reminder of how much they cared.

Today, it was Sero, Kaminari, Jirou, and Mina who sat around her bed. Kaminari held her hand gently, his thumb brushing against her bandaged skin. “You’ve got this, Yaomomo,” he said softly. “We’re all rooting for you.”

Jirou sat on the other side, her gaze fixed on Momo’s peaceful face. “No pressure or anything,” she added with a faint smirk. “But we could really use your strategies in class right now.”

Mina leaned forward, her bubbly energy tempered by the somber atmosphere. “And don’t forget - you promised you’d help me with my English homework. I’m holding you to that.”

Sero chuckled quietly, his hand resting lightly on Momo’s bandaged arm. “You’d better wake up soon, or Kaminari’s going to spark himself into a panic.”

Momo didn’t stir, but the steady rhythm of her breathing was enough to reassure them that she was still fighting. And in the meantime, her friends would be here, waiting.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

Sero slouched slightly against the edge of the couch in the Class 2-A common room, his eyes fixed on a random spot on the wall as the chatter of his classmates surrounded him. It wasn’t loud or distracting - just the kind of quiet background noise that usually helped him unwind. But tonight, it did little to ease the tightness in his chest.

Momo’s absence weighed heavily on him. He knew the others felt it too, especially Kaminari and Jirou, but for him, it was different. She wasn’t just his friend - she was family. Every time he glanced toward the door, as if expecting her to walk in and join them, the void hit him like a wave. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, about how she’d fought to escape the fire and how she was now lying in a hospital bed, her body scarred and broken.

His phone buzzed quietly on the table beside him, and Sero glanced down to see a message from Setsuna. It was short and simple - just three words: 𝙸’𝚖 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛. He smiled faintly, the weight in his chest lifting just enough to give him something to hold onto.

It didn’t take long for Setsuna to arrive, slipping into the common room with the kind of stealth that made Sero wonder why she hadn’t signed up for stealth missions yet. Her green hair was tied back loosely, and her grin was softer than usual, more reassuring than mischievous.

“Hey,” she said quietly, her voice low as she stepped closer to him. “How are you holding up?”

Sero shrugged, his usual humor absent. “You know me - I’m all jokes and elastic tape. But... it’s hard, Setsu. She’s my cousin.”

Setsuna didn’t hesitate. She slid onto the couch beside him and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. “She’s gonna be okay,” she said softly, her voice steady and confident. “You said it yourself - Momo’s one of the strongest people you know. She’s just taking her time. That’s all.”

Sero exhaled shakily, leaning into her embrace. Her warmth and quiet reassurance eased the ache in his chest, and he let himself hold onto her like a lifeline. “Thanks for sneaking over,” he murmured. “I needed this.”

“Anytime,” Setsuna replied with a teasing grin. “You know I’ll break any rule if it means helping you out.”

Sero chuckled, the sound soft but genuine. “You really are amazing.”

“Duh,” Setsuna quipped, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “And don’t you forget it.”

A few days later, Sero and Setsuna walked into Momo’s hospital room together, their steps quiet as they approached her bed. Sero had visited her a few times already, but having Setsuna beside him made it feel different - not easier, but less suffocating.

Momo lay still, her bandaged arms resting at her sides and the oxygen mask covering her nose and mouth. Her right arm was completely wrapped, while her left forearm was bandaged in stark contrast. The burns on her neck, jaw, and cheek had been carefully treated, but Sero couldn’t stop thinking about how permanent the scars would be.

“She’s resting,” Setsuna said softly, her gaze steady as she looked at Momo. “That’s a good sign.”

Sero nodded, his throat tight as he sat down beside her. “Hey, Momo,” he said quietly, his voice steady despite the lump in his throat. “Setsu’s here too. She wanted to see you.”

Setsuna leaned against the bed, her tone light but gentle. “Hey, Yaoyorozu. You’ve got a whole army of people cheering for you, you know. So hurry up and wake up, or we’re all gonna start pestering you about how much we miss you.”

Sero smiled faintly, resting his hand lightly on the edge of her bed. “She’ll be back,” he said, more to himself than anyone else. “She always bounces back.”

Setsuna reached over, her hand brushing his lightly in a quiet show of support. “And until she does,” she murmured, “we’ve got each other.”

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The hospital room was quiet, the hum of the machines blending into the faint sounds of movement in the hallway outside. Shouto sat in the chair by Momo’s bedside, his posture relaxed but attentive. This had become his routine - the time he used to dedicate to extra training or studying was now spent here, at her side. It wasn’t much, but it was something. A way to stay connected while she recovered.

Momo lay still, her bandaged arms resting at her sides and the oxygen mask covering her nose and mouth. The burns on her neck and jaw were hidden beneath careful wrappings, but the faint scars on her left temple and torso hinted at the battles she’d faced before tonight. Shouto’s mismatched eyes lingered on her face, searching for any sign of movement, any indication that she was closer to waking up.

He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees as he began to speak. His voice was low but steady, his tone quieter than usual as if he were sharing a secret.

“We started a new training module today,” he murmured, his gaze softening as he recounted the day. “Aizawa-Sensei said we need to focus on rescue scenarios - ones like what happened at your estate. I don’t think anyone missed the connection. You’ve been on everyone’s mind lately.”

He paused for a moment, his lips pressing together as he thought of his classmates. “Iida rallied us before we started. Said we needed to push ourselves harder so we’d never be caught off guard like that again. Everyone agreed - they all want to make sure this kind of thing doesn’t happen to you, or anyone else, again.”

Shouto exhaled softly, his eyes flicking briefly to the bandages on her arms. “Kaminari was loud, as usual. He’s been trying to keep Jirou and Sero’s spirits up - it’s clear how much they miss you. Sero’s been quiet, though. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this. And Jirou… she’s tough, but you can see it’s wearing on her.”

He let the words settle in the air for a moment before continuing. “It’s been strange without you. Class feels... off. I didn’t realize how much you anchor us until you weren’t there. Even Bakugou seems more subdued than usual, though he’d never admit it.”

The room felt heavier with every passing minute, but Shouto refused to leave. He shifted slightly in his chair, his hands resting lightly on his knees as he glanced at her again.

“Ice training went well,” he said after a moment, his tone softening as he found himself smiling faintly. “Kirishima and Mina teamed up to try and knock me off balance. It didn’t work, but it was entertaining to watch them try. You would have laughed - you always do when they start their antics.”

His smile faded slightly as his thoughts drifted back to her injuries. He didn’t like seeing her like this - scarred, fragile, and unable to even tell him how ridiculous her classmates were being. But he knew she’d pull through. She had to.

“You’ve done enough for us,” he said quietly, his voice steady despite the lump in his throat. “Just focus on getting better. We’ll take care of the rest.”

Shouto leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving her as he settled into the quiet routine he’d created. He didn’t know if she could hear him, but it didn’t matter. If speaking about his day, sharing his thoughts, and simply being there could help her, he’d do it for as long as it took.

“You’ll wake up,” he murmured softly. “And when you do, I’ll be here. Just like now.”

The promise hung in the air as he fell silent once more, the rhythm of the machines filling the space around them. It wasn’t the training he’d once dedicated his free time to, but it was far more important. And Shouto wouldn’t trade it for anything.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The vibrant hum of the arcade buzzed with life, the flashing lights and upbeat music a stark contrast to the somber mood that had gripped Class 2-A over the past few days. It had been Mina’s idea - alongside Tooru - to organize an outing for the couples to blow off some steam and cheer each other up. “We need this,” she had said, her infectious grin bright despite the lingering worry they all carried for Momo. And she wasn’t wrong.

Eijirou was the first to step inside, his crimson eyes lighting up at the sight of the sprawling arcade. “This place is amazing!” he exclaimed, his voice carrying over the noise as he glanced back at Mina, who was already tugging him toward a row of racing games.

“Come on, Kirishima! I’m gonna crush you!” Mina teased, her bright energy infectious as she all but dragged her boyfriend to the machines.

Behind them, Kaminari strolled in with Jirou by his side, her hand resting comfortably in his. He grinned at her, his gaze darting to a claw machine nearby. “Think I can win you something, Jirou?” he asked, his voice light and teasing.

She raised an eyebrow, smirking. “If you waste all your tokens on that, you’ll have to walk home.”

“Worth it,” Kaminari replied with a wink, earning a playful shove from Jirou as they moved further inside.

Sero and Setsuna gravitated toward the basketball hoops, their competitive streaks sparking a playful rivalry. Setsuna tossed the ball effortlessly, her movements fluid and confident as she sunk shot after shot. “Come on, Hanta,” she teased, a mischievous grin lighting up her face. “Is this really the best you’ve got?”

Sero laughed, shaking his head as he lined up another shot. “Oh, it’s on, Setsuna. You’re going down.”

They went back and forth, the playful banter drawing the attention of a few classmates who paused to cheer them on. It was a rare moment of levity, and Sero found himself grinning despite the ache in his chest that hadn’t fully eased since Momo’s injury.

When the timer buzzed, Setsuna raised her arms in victory. “That’s right! Winner gets bragging rights and the title of Best Basketballer in the Arcade.”

“Fine, fine,” Sero conceded, though his grin didn’t fade as he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her temple. “Next game’s mine, though.”

Toward the back of the arcade, Izuku stood with Ochako near the air hockey tables, nervously fidgeting with the edge of his jacket. He’d been invited to join the outing alongside her, and while he wasn’t exactly sure why (he had a faint suspicion Mina and Kaminari were behind it), he wasn’t complaining. Being here with Uraraka made him oddly happy, even if he couldn’t quite put it into words.

“This looks fun,” Ochako said, her tone upbeat but laced with a tinge of nervous energy. She smiled at him, her brown eyes warm and inviting. “Wanna play?”

Izuku nodded quickly, his voice a little too loud as he replied, “Y-Yeah! I’d love to!”

They took their places, the puck sliding back and forth as they laughed and exchanged playful banter. Ochako’s competitiveness soon took over, and she managed to score several points before Izuku realized he needed to step up his game. By the end, they were both breathless with laughter, the lingering tension momentarily forgotten.

As the game ended, Ochako’s smile faltered slightly, her fingers brushing against the edge of the table. “You really think Momo will be okay?” she asked softly, her voice barely audible over the arcade’s noise.

Izuku hesitated for a moment before stepping closer, his nervousness giving way to quiet resolve. “I know she will,” he said gently, his green eyes meeting hers. “Yaoyorozu is strong, and she has all of us to support her. She’s going to be okay.”

Ochako’s lips quivered as she tried to hold back her emotions, but a single tear slipped down her cheek. Without thinking, Izuku reached out, wrapping her in a gentle hug. “We’ll be here for her,” he murmured, his voice steady despite the faint blush on his cheeks. “And for each other.”

Ochako nodded against his shoulder, her arms tightening around him briefly before she pulled back, her cheeks tinged pink. “Thanks, Izuku,” she said softly, her smile returning. “You’re always so kind.”

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The group had gathered around one of the larger tables in the arcade’s snack area, trays of food and drinks scattered across the surface as they took a break from the games. The atmosphere was lighter than it had been in days, with Mina animatedly recounting her victory over Kirishima in their last race. Her energetic gestures and Eijirou’s exaggerated protests drew laughter from the group, their spirits momentarily lifted.

Kaminari leaned back in his chair, a soda in hand as he exchanged a grin with Jirou. “I’m telling you, babe, next time I’m definitely winning something better at the claw machine. That stuffed... whatever it is was just a warm-up.”

Jirou rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smirking. “Sure, Denks. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Across the table, Setsuna playfully nudged Sero’s shoulder, her grin subdued but still teasing. “You were barely keeping up with me at basketball earlier. You’ll have to step up your game if you want a rematch.”

Sero chuckled, the sound genuine despite the ever-present weight in his chest. “You know I let you win, right? It’s called being a gentleman.”

Before Setsuna could respond, Kirishima pointed toward one of the TVs mounted on the wall of the arcade, his expression shifting. “Hey, turn that up. Isn’t that…?”

The group fell silent as the news broadcast caught their attention, the cheerful banter replaced by a growing tension. The screen displayed the aftermath of the Yaoyorozu Estate fire, the charred remains of the once-grand building stark against the night sky. The headline at the bottom of the screen read, 𝚄𝚙𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎: 𝙵𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝙳𝚎𝚟𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚈𝚊𝚘𝚢𝚘𝚛𝚘𝚣𝚞 𝙵𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝙴𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚎 – 𝙳𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚜 𝙴𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚎.

Kaminari’s grip tightened on his drink, his usual smile fading as he stared at the screen. “Why are they showing this now?” he muttered, his voice laced with unease. “Can’t they just… let it go already?”

Jirou’s gaze was fixed on the broadcast, her hands clenching into fists as the anchor spoke. The footage shifted to an aerial view of the estate, the scale of the destruction making her stomach churn. She barely registered Setsuna reaching over to squeeze Sero’s hand, her attention completely absorbed by the news.

“As of today,” the anchor said, her tone grave, “investigators are still working to determine the cause of the explosion that led to the fire. Sources close to the family have confirmed that the youngest member of the household, Momo Yaoyorozu, was severely injured during the incident. She remains hospitalized, with no official updates on her condition.”

Kendou’s eyes widened slightly, her normally calm demeanor faltering. “They’re still talking about it like that? As if it’s just a headline?”

Mina placed a hand over her mouth, her usual cheer dampened as she turned to Kirishima. “Eijirou... this is awful. Do they even care about what she’s going through?”

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Kirishima replied quietly, his brows furrowing. “They’re treating it like some kind of spectacle.”

Kaminari slammed his drink down on the table, the loud clatter drawing everyone’s attention. His golden eyes were filled with frustration as he glared at the screen. “She’s not just some story for them to milk for ratings! Momo’s... she’s my best friend, and she’s fighting for her life, and they’re just showing the wreckage like it’s entertainment!”

“Denki,” Jirou said softly, her voice steady as she reached for his hand. Her touch grounded him, and his shoulders sagged as he exhaled shakily. “We all feel the same way. But getting worked up over the news isn’t going to help her. Right now, she needs us to stay strong for her.”

“She’s right,” Sero added, his voice calm despite the flicker of anger in his dark eyes. His gaze shifted to the screen, the image of his cousin’s family home reduced to ash and rubble striking a chord deep within him. “Momo doesn’t care about what they’re saying. She cares about what we’re doing. And right now, that’s being here for each other - and for her.”

Setsuna tightened her grip on his hand, her expression firm but reassuring. “We’ll get through this, Hanta. She’s not alone.”

The group sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the broadcast settling heavily over them. Then, slowly, they began to rally around each other. Mina reached for Kendou’s hand, their bond as friends unspoken but evident in the way they comforted one another. Kirishima placed a hand on Kaminari’s shoulder, his supportive presence grounding the electrified tension that still hummed faintly around his friend.

Jirou leaned closer to Kaminari, her quiet strength a steadying force as she rested her head against his shoulder.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The hospital staff had been kind enough to allow all of Class 2-A to visit Momo together, albeit in shifts to avoid overwhelming her room. When the news spread, every member of the class immediately adjusted their schedules. No one wanted to miss the opportunity to see her, even if she was still unconscious.

The atmosphere in the hospital hallway was thick with both worry and quiet determination as the students filed in, their footsteps echoing softly against the polished floors. They clustered near the door to Momo’s room, their expressions a mixture of anxiety and hope.

Shouto was the first to enter, his usual calm demeanor slightly more guarded than usual. He glanced back at his classmates, nodding to them as if to reassure them that it was okay to follow. He had been spending the most time by her side, so it felt natural for him to guide the others in.

Mina stepped in next, her bright pink hair an uncharacteristic contrast to the somber expression on her face. She stayed close to Kirishima, whose usual grin was muted but still warm as he gave her a supportive nudge.

Kaminari lingered near the back of the group with Jirou, his usual hyper energy subdued. He glanced at her, his hand brushing against hers before he spoke softly. “Hey, uh, are you okay? This is… a lot.”

Jirou’s sharp eyes softened as she looked at him, her hand finding his and giving it a brief squeeze. “I’ll be fine,” she said quietly. “But seeing her like this… it’s hard.”

They shared a quiet moment before Kaminari nodded, his own resolve solidifying as they stepped closer to Momo’s bedside.

The girls of Class 2-A naturally gravitated toward Momo, their bond with her stronger than ever. Mina and Tooru stood on either side of her bed, their usually bubbly personalities tempered by the weight of the moment.

“You look so peaceful,” Tooru said softly, her invisible hand brushing lightly against Momo’s bandaged arm. “But you need to wake up soon, okay? We miss you.”

Tsuyu sat in a chair near the foot of the bed, her wide eyes filled with quiet determination. “We’ll be here when you’re ready,” she murmured. “Take your time, but don’t keep us waiting too long, ribbit.”

Jirou stayed on Momo’s other side, her gaze lingering on Momo’s bandaged face. “We need you, Yaomomo,” she said simply, her voice steady but tinged with emotion. “Class isn’t the same without you.”

Ochako wiped at her eyes discreetly, standing near the window with Izuku by her side. She hesitated before speaking, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’ve always been so strong for us, Momo. We’re going to be strong for you now.”

Izuku nodded, his green eyes reflecting the determination in Ochako’s tone. “You’re not alone in this,” he added, his voice steady. “We’re all here for you.”

Sero stayed near the back of the room initially, his dark eyes fixed on his cousin as he processed the sight of her so still, so quiet. He felt Setsuna’s hand slip into his, her steady presence grounding him as he found the strength to step closer.

“Hey, Momo,” Sero said, his voice lighter than he felt. “The class is a mess without you, you know. I can’t believe you let us fend for ourselves like this. Seriously, though… you’ve got everyone rooting for you. We can’t wait to have you back.”

Setsuna smiled softly, her other hand brushing against Momo’s blanket. “He’s right. You’ve got the best cheerleading squad in the world.”

As the group settled into their visit, the room filled with quiet laughter and hushed conversations. Mina shared a funny story about Kirishima’s attempt to 'help' her with training, earning a few chuckles from their classmates. Tokoyami and Tsuyu spoke softly about their plans for upcoming lessons, their calm voices adding a sense of normalcy to the moment.

Shouto remained close to Momo’s side, his gaze steady as he listened to his classmates. He didn’t speak much, but his presence was a constant reminder of the quiet strength that held them together.

In their own ways, each member of Class 2-A found a moment to speak to Momo, their words a mixture of encouragement, humor, and love. They knew she couldn’t respond, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that she knew she wasn’t alone.

As their visit came to an end, the group lingered outside the room for a moment, their usual energy replaced by a quiet, collective hope.

“She’s going to be okay,” Mina said firmly, her voice filled with determination. “She’s Yaomomo. She’s unstoppable.”

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

The soft hum of machines and the faint murmur of voices filled the hospital room. Class 2-A had gathered once again to visit Momo, just as they had done countless times over the past months. The atmosphere was lighter this time, though, filled with quiet chatter and laughter. The sight of their friend slowly but surely improving had given them hope, and even though she was still unconscious, they knew she could feel their presence.

Shouto sat in his usual spot by Momo’s side, his mismatched eyes focused on her peaceful face. Kaminari was leaning against Jirou’s chair, his energy unusually calm, while Mina and Kirishima whispered animatedly in the corner, their bright personalities never fully dimmed despite the weight of the situation. Sero was seated at the foot of the bed, Setsuna’s hand resting lightly on his shoulder, her quiet support a constant source of comfort.

As Iida gestured with his usual enthusiasm while discussing the next day’s training, Ochako leaned close to Izuku, her quiet giggle accompanying his nervous laugh. Even Bakugo, who had begrudgingly shown up, stood near the doorway with his arms crossed, his expression softer than usual.

Then it happened - a faint, almost imperceptible shift. Momo’s hand twitched, and her breathing seemed to deepen slightly. Shouto’s head shot up, his sharp eyes narrowing as he leaned closer.

“Momo?” he said softly, his voice cutting through the hum of conversation. The room fell silent in an instant, all eyes turning to her as they held their breath.

Momo’s eyelids fluttered, and after a long moment, her dark eyes slowly opened. She blinked a few times, her gaze unfocused at first before settling on the concerned - and very relieved - faces of her classmates.

“Yaoyorozu!” Iida exclaimed, his voice louder than intended as he stepped forward, his arms flailing slightly in his characteristic excitement. “You’re awake! This is most excellent news!”

Momo’s gaze shifted to him, her expression groggy but still as composed as ever. She opened her mouth to speak, her voice hoarse and quiet but unmistakably hers.

“How much school work have I missed?” she rasped, her brows furrowing faintly with concern.

For a moment, there was stunned silence. Then, as if a dam had burst, the room erupted into laughter. Kaminari doubled over, his hand slapping the arm of Jirou’s chair as she hid her smirk behind her hand. Mina clapped her hands together, tears of mirth streaming down her face, while Kirishima shook his head, grinning widely.

“Momo, only you,” Mina managed between laughs. “Only you would wake up from a months-long coma and worry about schoolwork!”

Shouto’s lips twitched into the faintest of smiles, the tension in his shoulders finally easing. “It’s good to have you back,” he said softly, his voice carrying the weight of months of worry and relief.

Momo blinked slowly, her mind still catching up with the scene around her. “But… I really do need to know,” she said, her tone earnest despite her weakened voice. “If I’m behind, I need to start catching up immediately.”

“Don’t worry about that right now, Yaomomo,” Jirou said gently, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she moved to sit closer to her. “We’ve got it covered. Just focus on getting better.”

“Yeah!” Kaminari added, his grin as bright as ever. “You’ve got plenty of time to worry about school. For now, just enjoy being the toughest, smartest person in the room again.”

The room was filled with warmth, laughter, and an overwhelming sense of relief as Momo’s classmates surrounded her, each of them offering words of encouragement, humor, and gratitude. For the first time in what felt like forever, Class 2-A felt whole again, and the knowledge that their friend was back gave them a renewed sense of hope and strength.

And as Momo looked around at the faces of her friends - her family - she realized that no matter how much time had passed or how much she had missed, they had been there for her every step of the way. With their support, she knew she could face anything.

The hospital room was no longer the solemn, still place it had been for so many months. Now, it buzzed with life and activity as Class 2-A settled into the space like they belonged there - as though the months of visiting Momo had made it their second home. Laughter and chatter filled the air, accompanied by the occasional clatter of a chair being moved or a tray of snacks being passed around.

Momo sat propped up in her hospital bed, the once-lifeless figure now very much awake and present. Though her movements were slow and careful, her eyes sparkled with the sharp intelligence and warmth her classmates had missed. The bandages around her arms and neck were still there, a reminder of everything she had endured, but Momo was smiling - truly smiling - and that made all the difference.

“I can’t believe it’s almost the end of the year,” Momo said softly, her voice still hoarse but gaining strength with every word. She looked around at her classmates, her expression a mixture of gratitude and disbelief. “You’ve all grown so much while I’ve been… away.”

“You’re one to talk,” Mina said with a grin as she perched on the arm of Kirishima’s chair. “You’ve been through more than most pro heroes do in a lifetime, and you’re still here, kicking butt just by waking up.”

“We missed you,” Kirishima added, his crimson eyes warm and sincere. “Things weren’t the same without you.”

Momo’s gaze softened as she looked at each of them in turn. “I missed you all, too,” she admitted. “And I can’t thank you enough for being here - for not giving up on me.”

Shouto stood slightly apart from the group, his usual spot by Momo’s bedside now occupied by Jirou and Kaminari, who were playfully bickering over whether Momo needed anything else. He watched the scene unfold with quiet satisfaction, the corners of his mouth lifting in a faint smile.

He wasn’t the type to express his emotions openly, but the relief he felt seeing Momo awake and interacting with her classmates was palpable. She had been a constant presence in his thoughts over the past months, and now, seeing her smile, he felt a sense of peace he hadn’t realized he’d been missing.

Noticing his silence, Momo turned her gaze to him, her dark eyes meeting his mismatched ones. “Todoroki,” she said softly, her voice cutting through the noise around them. “You’ve been here the most, haven’t you?”

The others fell silent, their playful banter pausing as they turned to look at Shouto. He blinked, caught slightly off guard by the attention, before nodding. “It didn’t feel right, not being here,” he admitted, his tone calm but sincere. “You’ve been a big part of why Class 2-A has grown so much. We wanted to make sure you knew how much you mean to us.”

Momo’s cheeks flushed faintly, her lips curving into a small but genuine smile. “Thank you,” she said simply, her voice filled with quiet gratitude. “For everything.”

The conversation shifted to lighter topics as the group began sharing stories from the past months - training exercises gone awry, Mina’s never-ending attempts to teach Kirishima how to dance, and Kaminari’s ongoing quest to win claw machine prizes for Jirou (who insisted she didn’t need them but secretly cherished every one).

Sero leaned forward from his seat at the foot of the bed, his usual grin returning as he joined the conversation. “You missed Iida’s epic speech about teamwork during a training session,” he said, winking at Momo. “It went on for so long, Aizawa-Sensei actually fell asleep standing up.”

The room erupted into laughter, even Momo managing a soft chuckle despite the strain it put on her recovering voice. “I’m sorry I missed that,” she said, her smile widening. “But it sounds like you’ve all been doing well, even without me.”

Jirou, who had been quietly observing the exchange, leaned closer to Momo and shook her head. “Don’t let them fool you. We were a mess without you. I mean, I tried to step up with strategies, but…” She trailed off, shrugging sheepishly. “You’re irreplaceable, Yaomomo.”

Momo’s smile faltered for a moment, her gaze lowering as she processed the weight of Jirou’s words. “You’re all incredible,” she said softly. “And I’ll do everything I can to catch up and support you, just like before.”

As the group continued chatting, Setsuna slipped into the room quietly, her green hair tied back as she joined Sero’s side. She placed a hand on his shoulder, her grin teasing but kind. “See? Told you she’d wake up,” she whispered, earning a soft laugh from him.

“You’re always right, aren’t you?” Sero replied, his tone affectionate.

“Obviously,” Setsuna quipped, squeezing his shoulder before turning to Momo with a warm smile. “It’s good to see you awake, Yaoyorozu. You had us all worried for a while.”

Momo nodded, her eyes glistening with gratitude. “Thank you, Tokage,”

As the evening wore on and the group began to filter out one by one, Momo found herself surrounded by a sense of hope and belonging she hadn’t felt in months. Though her journey to recovery was far from over, she knew she wouldn’t face it alone.

Shouto lingered behind as the last of the group said their goodbyes, his mismatched eyes meeting hers once more. “You’ve come a long way,” he said quietly. “And we’ll be here for whatever comes next.”

Momo nodded, her smile soft but steady. “With all of you by my side, I know I can face anything.”

As the room fell quiet again, the hum of the machines blending into the soft glow of the city lights outside, Momo finally allowed herself to rest, her heart full of gratitude and the strength of her bonds with her classmates.

Chapter Text

In which our favorite Hero Course students (formally Class 1-A and now 2-A) become Class 3-A, starting their Third and final year at U.A. High School.

Shouto Todoroki (轟とどろき焦しょう凍と Todoroki Shōto) - "I want it, too. I'll be a hero!"

Age - 20

Birthplace - (Near) Shizuoka Prefecture

Birthday - January 11th

Blood Type - O+

Physical Description - 6'1 1/4 and rather muscular and well-built for his age, stemming from his intense training as a child, with fairly tanned skin. His eyes, in shape, were thin and reserved, while being heterochromatic, left eye an icy turquoise while his right a steel gray and usually set in a neutral expression. His hair was slightly frazzled and mimicked the mismatching, the right locks chalk white and the left locks crimson red with a few small flecks white on the left and crimson on the right at the crown. It was grown out - to piss off his father - and tied back into a small, low, slightly messy, ponytail at the base of his neck, with his bangs falling to his mid-nose bridge and parted twice to avoid obscuring his vision. On the left side of his face was a burn scar from his hairline to halfway down his cheek from when he was a child, his mother had a lapse of sanity due to his father's abuse and threw a kettle of boiling water she had near her over her son's face. However, what scarred him was Rei attempting to soothe the burn using her Frost Quirk - though it's fading as he ages. He also had a small X-shaped burn at the center of his chest from using Phosphor excessively during his fight with Dabi without mastering it.

Personality Description - Cold, aloof, distant, and socially awkward. He closed himself off, not bothering to build friendships or connections with others, which stemmed from his abusive upbringing and complicated family life. However, after First Year's Sports Festival, he became somewhat sociable and kind, even gaining a sense of humor and occasionally smiling, although still retaining his distant attitude and nonchalant demeanor. While usually quiet, Shouto possessed a moderate level of arrogance inherited from his father, which, combined with his solitary tendencies, made him take the initiative without considering the opinions of others at times, displaying confidence that he could take on any obstacle with his strength. Shouto seemed to prefer acting alone, though he only did for practical purposes since it allowed him to unleash his full power without worrying about allies. Calm and composed yet brutal in combat, Shouto was well-grounded on ethics, since defeating his oldest brother, Touya/Dabi, while some of his awkward character remained, he became more laid back and made a name for himself as a hardworking hero who treated all his fans equally and with respect. Just as he always wanted, Shouto became his own hero, with people thinking less and less of him as Endeavor's son. Touya had only been given a few years and could only talk for a few minutes a day, however, he'd defied the odds and made a full recovery. Now, Touya had gone through rehab at Fujitani Hospital and was now back with his family. Enji retired from Hero Work to spend all his time making amends for his actions. Shouto once had a deep loathing for his fire abilities, which he inherited from Endeavor, as it symbolized his father's wickedness towards him and his mother as well as what he was born to be: a tool to surpass All Might, a fate that he detested. Shouto often felt bothered by Enji's mere presence and could barely contain his anger while talking to him, especially whenever the Pro Hero brought up the purpose he had intended for his son since before birth. Ironically though, Shouto's animosity towards his father made him more like how Endeavor was, being apathetic and indifferent towards others while obsessively focusing on his own goal of rejecting his father. Shouto was quite reflective of his own growth, due to this, he was not against his father trying to make amends with his family and become a better person, knowing from experience that a single thing can change a person if they allow it to. However, Shouto's grudge towards Enji had not yet disappeared, self-admitting that such resentment can't vanish so easily and that he was wrong in trying to bury it. He remained relatively cold towards Enji and had made it clear that forgiveness for his past treatment of him and his mother was difficult but has also demonstrated worry about his father's safety. Ever since Enji tried to repair his relationship with his family, Shouto had taken a cautious, yet hopeful approach to this development, not seeming against the possibility of forgiving his father; however, he made it clear to Endeavor that he must earn it. As his family's bond has healed over the years, Shouto has steadily become more open and extroverted, while still tending to keep to himself he's much better at maintaining conversation and approaching people warmly.

Quirk - Half-Cold-Half-Hot; Gave him the ability to generate ice from the right side of his body, and flames from his left side. If he overused one element without utilizing the other, then his body temperature would suffer; the ice half would cause frostbite and the fire half would cause heatstroke. Until his bodily limit was reached, however, neither had any visible effect. Shouto could easily negate this weakness by alternating between ice and fire. Further development of his Quirk and mastery over his fire had allowed Shouto to combine both halves into a 'cold fire', making use of his circulatory system to move the hot and cold blood around his body, merging the fire and ice into one ability - which he called Phosphor. This gave Shouto immunity to heat-based Quirks, as well as improved offensive capabilities, especially against those with such Quirks. However, this way of using his Quirk required a certain level of concentration to maintain it; otherwise, it would falter and dissipate.

School - U.A. High

Occupation - Hero-in-Training

Also Known As - The Frozen-Fire Hero; Shouto

Hero Chart Ranking - UNRANKED

Hero Costume - A navy blue heat-resistant jacket with elbow-length sleeves, it was collar high, with a cooling/heating device within it, and joined in the center by a gray neckpiece while featuring a large gray-blue T-shaped stripe going from his waist to his armpits. Baggy pants of the same color as his jacket, a metal-plated tactical vest that functioned as both a heater and radiator. White boots with soles equipped with spikes and a thin line running down the center of each of them a darker pale gray. He also sported a brown utility belt around his waist, which could hold eight little metal capsules containing medical supplies hanging off. He also wore two burgundy wrist guards with armor-like bracing, accompanied by plating from his wrist to his knuckles, which could store up heat and cold to help condense his power.

Fighting Specialty - Ranged Combat

Favorite Food - Zaru Soba

Other Facts(Headcanons) - His hair was soft yet two different textures, the white thin while the red held more volume and was fairly fluffy. His hands were calloused from training, yet gentle. He smelled like smoke, sage, and hint of peppermint. His favorite fruit was blackberries. When Shouto was mad, his right side activated subconsciously, lowering the temperature in the room, when he was flustered, his flames subconsciously activated.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

Momo Yaoyorozu (八や百お万よろず百もも Yaoyorozu Momo) - "We've got to start at the bottom and work up! And if we don't earnestly cheer each other on... We'll never be great heroes!"

Age - 20

Birthplace - Aichi Prefecture

Birthday - September 23rd

Blood Type - A-

Physical Description - 6'0 with a mature physique, her hair was raven black, tied into a spiky ponytail with a large strand hanging on the right side of her face. Her skin was a pale porcelain, and her eyes were big yet sharp, colored onyx, paired with short eyebrows often set in a stern expression. She had a scar on her left temple that went to her upper cheek from the Forest Training Camp ambush by the L.o.V First Year. She also has a scar on her left torso from an injury received during the Mall Villian Attack, which required surgery and stiches. She has a large, jagged burn scar on her right arm that goes onto the back of her hand a bit and up her shoulder, the side of her neck, onto her jaw and up her a bit of her cheek. There are some sections of her arm that are not burned, but the majority of it is.

Personality Description - Serious, levelheaded, calm and introverted while unapologetically blunt with her comments about people's mistakes and miscalculations, tending to be very direct. A very prudent, dedicated person who was a natural leader and very kind and polite but still relatively reserved. She was a selfless hero who gets inspiration from others while also taking the role of a leader. She also had a tendency to be very sassy in her remarks, though it doesn't appear to be intentional. Momo often wears a mask of perfection, compartmentalizing her emotions and opting to help others through their struggles without acknowledging her own.

Quirk - Creation; Gave her the ability to create any non-living material/object from her exposed skin by transforming the molecular structure of her fat cells. To create something, she needed to understand the molecular structure of what the material/object is made of. The more Momo ate, the more material she had to work with, so she needed considerable food ingestion for her Quirk to be effective. However, it took her a more extended period and more skin exposure to create large objects. This aspect of Momo's Quirk is likely the reason for her slim figure, as she constantly burned her fat to create objects. This was also a significant weakness because if she generated too much without replacing her calories, she could become weak and anemic.

School - U.A. High

Occupation - Hero-in-Training

Also Known As - The Everything Hero; Creati

Hero Chart Ranking - UNRANKED

Hero Costume - An open back high-collared, sleeveless crimson leotard with silver lines at her waist and around her arms. It covered her entire torso yet had a boob window. Her high-collared red cape over her costume with a ring around her neck and a large red gemstone at her throat that used to be exclusively for her winter costume she now wore all the time, modifying the material to be comfortable and suitable in all weather conditions. She had crimson leggings - the side thigh being open and outlined in silver as she can only use her Quirk with exposed skin - and a gold utility belt around her waist. The book she used to carry - what her mother dubbed the 'Yaoyorictionary' - on composition information, was now converted into a watch, making it more convenient. She wore her sports calf-length red boots with heels, which dipped sharply down in the center. The collar of the boots was lined with silver, while there was a gold hexagonal outline on the back of the shaft of the boot from just below the collar to the ankle, and the sole of the boot was black.

Fighting Specialty - Close & Support Combat

Favorite Food (Headcanon) - Gyoza

Fun Facts (Headcanons) - Momo had a somewhat casual, natural, and non-lewd view toward nudity, she also had very little self-preservation and fidgeted when she was nervous or anxious. Due to past experiences, there are very few men outside her family Momo trusted. Her hands were rougher than expected from training, but still soft. She smelled like vanilla, roses, and a hint of cherry blossom. Her favorite fruit was strawberries. She needed to eat twice a normal person to maintain a healthy weight due to her Quirk and already fast metabolism, she also wore contacts - but only for reading. When Momo was overly embarrassed, nervous, or flustered her Quirk activated subconsciously and Russian Matryoshka Dolls popped out from her arms.

Other Facts (My AU) - As a child she wasn't allowed outside the property gate unless 'absolutely necessary', and while the Yaoyorozu Estate took up a whole street line worth of houses, it got boring. Momo couldn't interact with other kids; she didn't have friends. All she had were her studies and lessons. Everything was planned out for her since before she was born. She didn't get an opinion, a say, or an option for what she did or didn't do. Momo's mother, Hidoi, was strict, neglectful, and emotionally abusive. However, she was also extremely possessive of her daughter, controlling every aspect of Momo's life. Momo's father, Zankoku, barely came out of his office. For the public, he put on a charming act but really, he was cold and unforgiving. He always threatened Momo with violence, and at first, she called his bluff, but he stayed true to his word one day when Momo said too many words and ended up with multiple injuries. Her mother took a more phycological punishment, locking Momo in what she called her 'Thinking Room' which was the one untouched room of the house that was cramped, dark, and dirty - this led to Momo developing mild claustrophobia. Momo was primarily raised and cared for by her aunt (Hanta's mom). Her aunt, Ichigo Sero, was the one to introduce her to hero work and allow her to take Bōjutsu and Kenjutsu - without Momo's parents' knowledge. Ichigo was also the one to send Momo's application to U.A. and was the reason why Momo acted nothing like her parents. Momo's aunt was such a mother figure to her that she called her 'mom' whenever her parents aren't around.

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

Fuyumi Todoroki (轟とどろき冬ふゆ美み Todoroki Fuyumi) - "Ugh... should've known... but with Shouto at U.A. and finally able to see mom again... and now that she's starting to cheer up, since you're making an effort... I thought... I thought we might just turn into a real family..."

Age - 27

Birthplace - (Near) Shizuoka Prefecture

Birthday - December 6th

Blood Type - AB+

Physical Description - A young woman of average height with turquoise eyes. She has white hair, flecked with a few noticeable traces of a crimson-like color, which is mostly shoulder-length aside from the ear-length side bangs she sports and the short clump she leaves hanging down her forehead. She wears a white dress shirt with a plain grayish peach-colored cardigan, the sleeves worn rolled up to just below her elbows, along with navy blue jeans. She also sports brown dress shoes and a pair of red-framed rectangular glasses. During the Final War, Fuyumi receives burn marks and scars right after exposing herself to the battle between Dabi and Endeavor. In the aftermath of the war, Fuyumi's burns have mostly healed, with only three notable scars remaining on her face.

Personality Description - Fuyumi was a kind-hearted person who cared deeply for her family. She took on a nurturing role for her younger brother, Shouto, during their mother, Rei's absence. It was shown that she had an amicable relationship with both her brothers, Shouto and Natsuo, as well as her mother whom she often visited at her hospital ward. She also had a teasing side, as she taunted Natsuo for having a secret girlfriend at college. Fuyumi didn't show the same resentment towards her father as her brothers did, although she confirmed that she did feel the same way as them at times. Despite this, Fuyumi tried to get along with her father for the sake of their family changing for the better, an idea which she was hopeful about after taking note of her father's changing attitude and Shouto's healing relationship with their mother. She was shown to worry about her family whenever something happened to them, including her father, as she was horrified to see him grievously injured during his battle with Hood. She also showed visible panic when Shouto came back from saving Katsuki, and was frantic upon hearing that Natsuo was kidnapped by a villain whom her youngest brother and his friends later fought. The feeling that she "couldn't do anything for Shouto" remained in her heart. This was also what inspired her to become a teacher, as she felt that she couldn't protect her youngest brother. For all her positivity, Fuyumi admitted that she was too afraid to stand up to her father's abuse and could only do her best to keep up the appearance of a happy family, acknowledging that she too held some partial blame regarding her older brother Touya's fate. Even so, she agreed to unite with her family to help their father stop Dabi. Fuyumi had proven to be very brave, as during the Final War, she chose to accompany her mother and Natsuo in confronting Dabi, who was releasing a deadly inferno and was on the verge of self-destructing. Fuyumi used her ice Quirk to help contain Dabi's explosion, telling her older brother that she can't bear to lose anyone again and pleading with him not to take everyone down with him as well.

Quirk - Frost; Fuyumi inherited her mother's ability to generate ice, to both coat herself in it and blast it out.

Occupation- Teacher

Favorite Food - Ice Cream

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

Touya Todoroki (轟とどろき燈とう矢や Todoroki Tōya) - "If you're trash, at least burn and be kindling for my flames.

Age - 28

Birthplace - (Near) Shizuoka Prefecture

Birthday - January 18th

Blood Type - O+

Physical Description - A reasonably tall, pale young man of slim shape but somewhat muscular build. He had white hair with a few red flecks at its crown that spiked upward around his head, hanging low over his eyes, which were thin, turquoise, and heavily lidded. Dabi's hair was dyed black before revealing his true identity. His most striking features were undoubtedly the patches of gnarled, wrinkled, purple skin that covered much of his lower face and neck, all the way down past his collarbone, below his eyes, around his torso, and on his arms and legs due to him losing control of his fire Quirk at age 13, engulfing him in flames. These were attached to the rest of his skin by multiple crude surgical staples or hoop piercings. He had several silver cartilage piercings in both ears and a triple nostril piercing on the right side of his nose. Upon closer inspection, he also lacked earlobes on both sides of his ears.

Personality Description - A stoic, aloof, confident, and focused individual who rarely showed emotion. While rather crude and violent, he was also cautious and observant, choosing to retreat when Mirko arrived to aid Endeavor and made sure not to divulge too much information to Hawks about High-End because of the infancy of their relationship. Overall, Dabi was a highly enigmatic individual who trusted no one, preferring to do things alone and in his own way. He also gave off the impression of knowing more about certain people than he let on. Despite his usual expressionless behavior, Dabi found joy in establishing himself as a villain fighting what he believed to be false heroes, an ideology proposed by his apparent inspiration, Stain. Dabi was dedicated to Stain's mission and desires to destroy superhuman society, sharing his belief that one person with the necessary conviction can do so. He had shown to share Stain's sentiment that heroes are hypocritical and unworthy of their title, but unlike Stain, did not seem to seek a society with better heroes, believing that true heroes don't exist. Despite his devotion to the Hero Killer's creed, Dabi did many things that Stain would not, such as attacking innocent bystanders and helping the League get revenge against Overhaul, while also being motivated by his vengeance against Endeavor. In the end, Dabi only used Stain's ideals to cover his motives and justify his crimes against the hero society. Dabi took pleasure in taunting heroic figures, students, and Pro Heroes alike, sadistically enjoying the pain he inflicted on others, including those he murdered. Sometimes, Dabi engaged in psychological warfare to unnerve whoever his opponent was while also allowing himself to cool down from his Quirk's effects. Very pragmatic in battle, he was savvy about how heroes operate and would exploit their natural tendency to rescue others. He was not afraid of causing collateral destruction, rarely holding back, even if it put his allies at risk. Dabi was intolerant of most people and could be very derisive, rude, and condescending to everyone he met. He insulted Tomura Shigaraki immediately after meeting him and constantly did the same to his allies and enemies, but didn't always do it with the intention of being rude. While the League went on to develop a strong sense of camaraderie, Dabi remained distant from them for the most part. He later admitted that he didn't care for Tomura or the rest of the League and that the value he places on them came mostly from their ability to bring his ambitions into reality. This selfish way of thinking established Dabi as an extreme sociopath. However, Dabi at least had a capacity for remorse. While he had no problem killing the Pro Hero Snatch, the latter's words appeared to have resonated with him, implying that Dabi held sympathy for those who have lost family due to villains, as well as the loved ones of those whom he had killed. Yet, this remorse did not extend to his family, as Dabi frequently contemplated their deaths for the sake of revenge against Endeavor. He also appeared to have certain standards, as upon seeing Tsukuyomi arrive to save Hawks, he was surprised and disgusted by how the heroes and government were more than willing to bring young students into the Paranormal Liberation War, although he could've just been looking down on them for having to rely on high schoolers. Dabi even displayed some semblance of kindness when he burned down Himiko Toga's old family home while she was feeling distraught over it, though he claimed he only did it to twist the knife for the heroes. Despite admitting that he held no care for the other League members, he did encourage Twice to do his best for the League during the war, even hi-fiving him as he ran out to join the battle and took the time to encourage Himiko that they should continue fighting for their cause. This motivational aspect showed that Dabi cared enough about his allies to support their morale when needed, even if only for pragmatic and self-serving purposes. However, after being confronted by Rei, Fuyumi, and Natsuo, who all use their ice Quirks in an effort to cool him down and stop his explosion, Dabi did internally show some happiness at seeing his family again, even imagining them all (minus Shouto) being together and happy, while gathering around a grown and happy version of Touya. This implies that Dabi wasn't as far gone as he previously claimed, seeing how everyone, including his father, was watching him just as he always wanted and wondered why it couldn't have happened sooner. While being visited by his family, he casually mocks them and his own state while also rejecting his father's words, calling him a coward and telling him not to bother after everything that's happened. Though he fell quiet upon hearing his family's words and that they intended to continue visiting him. At the end of the visit, Dabi answered Shouto's question that his favorite food was soba. After recalling how Shouto refused his statement that they would never be together, Dabi finally showed remorse for his actions upon seeing how his family still refused to give up on him, crying as he apologized to Shouto. Overall, the neglect Touya had received paired with his refusal to stop chasing his father had caused him to devolve from a bright and ambitious boy who wanted to be a hero, to a bitter, vengeful, and destructive villain. Even Natsuo said that had his family, especially Enji, given Touya the help he needed, Dabi would have never come to be. To add to this irony, Dabi completed what he set out to do, having ruined the career and reputation of the hero he once looked up to. Nevertheless, Dabi showed multiple times that he hadn't completely lost his humanity, nor had he forgotten about his family, even being momentarily happy upon seeing them again and later having remorse for all the harm he caused them.

Quirk - Blueflame; Dabi's Quirk granted him the ability to generate and control highly destructive blue flames from his body. Originally orange and red, his Quirk turned blue after going through a growth sprout. He had very well-developed control of his flames and could unleash them far from himself and in large amounts. Furthermore, his flames possessed greater firepower than his father, Endeavor's, Hellflame Quirk, and they became even stronger when Dabi felt strong emotions, especially anger and hatred. However, Dabi's body had a low tolerance for his own flames due to him inheriting his mother's constitution, which gave his body resistance to freezing temperatures rather than intense heat. As a result, he would get burned if he used them for prolonged periods and severely limited his endurance, with the highest temperature of his flames being fatal. After being defeated in his second battle against Shoto, Blueflame's power increased, resulting in it manifesting the ice from his mother's Quirk, Frost, within itself. This power-up was described as something "different" to a Quirk Awakening, a burst of power that emerged when he was on the verge of death in an effort to help him survive his intense burns.

Favorite Food(Headcanon) - Tempura Soba

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Rei Todoroki ((轟とどろき冷れい Todoroki Rei) - "Yes? What about your heart? Those regrets and guilt... the rest of us have borne that burden... much more than you have."

Age (Headcanon) - 44

Birthplace - UNKNOWN

Birthday (Headcanon) - November 9th

Blood Type (Headcanon) - O+

Physical Description - A middle-aged woman with an average height and build. She had straight white hair that was just above shoulder-length with rather long bangs over her face. Her face had round features, having mellow expressions in casual situations. Her tired-looking eyes were steel gray with reasonably long eyelashes. During the Final War, she received a huge amount of burns and scars all over her body after exposing herself to the battle between Dabi and Endeavor. In the aftermath of the war, Rei now bore a large scar on the upper left side of her face running all the way down to her right cheek.

Personality Description - A kind, caring, and loving mother towards her children. She loved her eldest son Touya and wanted to stop him from training his Quirk, knowing the harm it was causing him. Sadly, Rei's love and concern were not enough to help Touya see through his obsession with becoming a Hero and gaining his father's approval. She was also devastated by Touya's supposed death, despite her son cruelly blaming her for his birth. She was also loving and protective of her youngest son, Shouto, and would try to stop her husband from forcing his mad training methods on him. While Shouto suffered from Enji's cruelty, Rei comforted him and encouraged the boy to become the person he wants to be, saying that he isn't bound by his father's blood, further showing her kind nature. However, the constant abuse that she received from her husband caused her to become mentally unstable. This is seen where Rei admitted that she was slowly becoming repulsed by her own children due to her seeing their resemblance to her husband in them. Eventually, she became unstable to the point that one day she finally snapped upon seeing Shouto's left side, which reminded her of Enji. This caused her to throw a kettle of boiling water she had near her over her son's face, burning him. She did not, however, do this out of hatred for Shouto, but rather due to her mental instability and it is later revealed that after doing so, she immediately attempted to soothe her son's burns using her ice Quirk, while hysterically apologizing to him and asking herself why she did it. After staying at a psychiatric ward in Fujitani Hospital and being away from her husband, Rei had shown to have returned to her past kind, caring self. Upon meeting her son again, she apologized and smiled through tears after he told her that he forgave her, and the two restored their loving relationship. She also received visits from her other children, Natsuo and Fuyumi, and appears to receive small gifts from her husband, although she was yet to see him face to face out of fear. Her kindness and compassion was shown when she understood the internal struggle Enji is facing, and from this, Natsuo was able to understand that Rei had faith in him despite all of the trauma he put her through. Despite her kind nature, Rei was surprisingly strong-willed. After having seen her eldest son's broadcast and learning the truth that Touya was alive and had become a mass murderer, instead of breaking down, she resolved to address the situation with the rest of her family, including her youngest son and her husband. She went to the hospital where her husband and youngest son were being treated, and when Enji was expressing his guilt and shedding tears, Rei approached him and reminded her husband that the rest of their family suffered from these feelings more than he has, explaining to Enji that she came to talk about their family and about Touya. Despite her anger towards her husband for what she and her children went through, she also understood that she too had been unable to see how they failed Touya when he was young, a sense of guilt she shared with Enji and a burden that she pointed out is not his alone. Due to her recovery and reclaiming her sanity, Rei had shown to be a forgiving and understanding woman, determined to do what she could to help her husband recover and to put an end to their family's dark legacy in Dabi once and for all. Although Rei wasn't a Hero, she was strongly determined to risk herself to save her husband and her eldest son when the both of them were going to die from Dabi's internal combustion. Following the Final War, despite everything her husband and eldest son have done, Rei still refused to abandon either of them, wishing to talk to a dying Touya being kept at hospital, and stayed by Enji's side after the latter retired from hero work, telling her husband that even with how bleak his future looked, he wouldn't have to face it all by himself.

Quirk - Frost; Gave her the ability to generate and manipulate ice from her body. This ice Quirk was considered very powerful, given that it impressed Enji enough that he wanted an offspring with a combination of this Quirk and his own. Unlike the Quirk used by Geten, a distant relative of hers, she could generate ice from her body at will. Even though Frost was a powerful Quirk, she couldn't use her Quirk for long periods of time as overusing or prolonging it can cause her body to develop frostbites, and her body temperature drops if she pushed it further.

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Enji Todoroki (轟とどろき炎えん司じ Todoroki Enji) - "I'll be making amends and apologizing for my sins for the rest of my life... Whether you're all around to see it or not. And I'll shield you kids from the fiery fallout to the best of my ability. If there's a reason I survived, that's got to be it."

Age - 46

Birthplace - (Near) Shizuoka Prefecture

Birthday - August 8th

Blood Type - AB+

Physical Description - A tall, sturdily-built man with a very muscular physique. He had short crimson hair, which he wore spiked up around his head, and sharp turquoise eyes. His beard and mustache appeared to be made of fire, but when he voluntarily turned off the flames on his face, a slight amount of stubble showed around his jaw. He had a large, jagged scar on the left side of his face reaching from his hairline all the way down to his chin, his right arm was ripped off in the Final War, and he has burns all along his face and body. As a further result of his injuries sustained during the Final War, he is bound to a wheelchair and was forced to quit Hero Work, however he did so willingly in order to spend the rest of his life atoning for his sins and making amends with his family

Personality Description - Described as a prideful and ambitious man. His obsessive drive to surpass All Might in strength and power has followed Enji throughout his entire life, and repeated failure has plagued him since his youth. Dedicated to his studies and hero work, Enji strived to become the absolute strongest Pro Hero in the country. However, the figure of All Might proved itself too much of an insurmountable obstacle for him or anyone else to overcome, leaving Enji in a growing state of despair as he became increasingly aware that closing the gap between him and the Symbol of Peace was futile. As a result, Enji turned into a cold, callous person who didn't care for anything but his impossible dream. Enji would become a cold, even abusive father and husband, with his actions negatively affecting all members of the family he formed. Shouto, his youngest child, was considered his masterpiece, a tool with all the correct elements to exceed All Might's ability and nothing else. As a result, Enji focused all his hopes on Shouto, forcing him through incredibly harsh training from a young age and showing no concern for his son's desires. The rest of his children were ignored and perceived as "failures" that weren't allowed to interact with their younger brother. Enji became verbally and physically violent towards his wife, Rei, whenever she tried to defend Shouto from the brutal training to the extent where she began to fear him and started seeing him in the faces of their children. When his wife succumbed to a mental breakdown and injured Shouto, Enji sent her to a psychiatric ward to prevent her from getting in the way of his child's development. At the same time, he wasn't entirely without feelings and concern for his family. Upon learning that his first son, Touya, had stronger fire powers but a body that could not handle his flames, Enji quickly stopped forcing his efforts on Touya in fear for his well-being and was frustrated when he refused to quit and kept burning himself. Beforehand, he was content with training Touya to be his successor, despite him not inheriting the ideal Quirk that he desired, and his training with Touya was nowhere near as harsh or brutal as he would be with Shouto. Also, despite their arranged marriage, he did show some sentiment towards Rei when they first got together, remembering her favorite flower despite her only telling him about it once. As the years passed however, Enji became more stubborn and impatient to fulfill his lifelong goal. Being so devoted to his hero work and his dream, he never took the time to learn how to be a family man, believing that all he could show anyone was the world of a hero. Rei accused Enji of using his hero status to avoid his problems as a father, and he would admit this to be true to Natsuo years later, confessing that all he could do was dodge his responsibilities and blame others. This avoidance of his parental responsibilities led to the abuse of his wife and the neglect of his children, especially Touya, who drove himself hysterical yearning for his father's acknowledgment after being replaced in favor of Shouto. While Touya's apparent death devastated him, Enji's obsession with training Shouto remained, feeling as though it would have all been for nothing had he given up.

Quirk - Hellflame; Allowed him to produce and manipulate large amounts of extremely intense fire at will. He appeared to be immune to other flames and can easily control the shape and temperature of the blaze as well. Enji's level of control enabled him to utilize his flames in unorthodox ways, such as concentrating flames and heat to his feet to achieve limited flight. He had been shown shaping his flames into long-range and melee weapons, such as when he struck a Nomu with a spear made of fire and was even capable of emitting fire from his eyes as shown when he burned All for One's hand when the villain attempted to steal his Quirk. Using too much of his power would overheat Endeavor's body, causing a depletion of stamina, and an impairment of his physical functions.

Former Occupation - Pro Hero

Formally Known As - The Flame Hero; Endeavor

Former Hero Chart Ranking - #1

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Izuku Midoriya (緑みどり谷や出いず久く Midoriya Izuku) - "It's not all black-and-white. Most things in this world are in shades of gray. A blend of fear and anger. Which is exactly why... I've gotta extend a helping hand!"

Age - 20

Birthplace - (Near) Shizuoka Prefecture

Birthday - July 15th

Blood Type - O-

Physical Description - 5'7 1/4 with a round face framed by a mop of fluffy dark-green hair grown out in a mullet which curled up at odd angles around his head, casting noticeably dark shadows onto itself and was parted slightly to the right. His eyes were large and somewhat circular, and his irises were emerald green, which at times are very watery, and are usually stretched quite wide, giving him an innocent, energized appearance. He had a set of four symmetrical freckles in diamond formations, one on each cheek. Izuku had often been described as "plain-looking" or "not standing out" by others. He had developed and defined muscles, the fingers on his right hand slightly deformed, and his hand showed visible scarring. His right arm was further damaged after his intense fight, leaving many more scars. Following his recovery after the previously mentioned fight, Izuku wears a black compression sleeve on the upper portion of his right arm in order to support the heavy damage it sustained: it is partially visible when he wears short sleeves. He had two face scars, one on the right side of his head, and the other below his right eye spreading down his cheek and reaching his chin.

Personality Description - A very timid, reserved, and polite boy, frequently overreacting to abnormal situations with exaggerated expressions. Due to yeаrs of being looked down on by Katsuki Bakugou for lacking a Quirk, he is initially portrayed as insecure, tearful, vulnerable, and non-expressive. These traits were especially present around Katsuki, who also constantly harangued him for his aspirations to become a hero. However, after being accepted into U.A., making new friends, and facing Katsuki, Izuku gradually matured into a more confident and braver person who was always eager to prove his worth as a hero, eventually developing strong leadership skills, which combined with his passion and strategic abilities, had turned him into a central figure. Izuku was a quite diligent and strong-willed student, being extremely (and sometimes scarily) enthusiastic about topics related to heroes. His dream drove him to write down notes about everything he learns about heroes' Quirks and fighting capabilities. Thanks to this practice, Izuku had developed a great analytical mind and can form complex battle plans in a few seconds, factoring in the best ways he could utilize the Quirks of allies and enemies alike for his own advantage. Izuku externalizes his observations through endless mumbling, a habit that annoyed or creeped out his peers. Izuku often wrote down his observations in a variety of notebooks. He checked on them regularly during school activities, during his free time, or at night. Izuku was caring and emotional, never hesitating to help or rescue someone in danger, even if he knew that he might not be strong or otherwise qualified enough to do it. Often, he did this on instinct, taking a more careless approach than the usual overthinking he goes through and putting himself in peril in order to protect someone.

Quirk - One for All; Transferred to him from Toshinori Yagi, Izuku's Quirk allowed him to stockpile an enormous amount of raw power, allowing him to significantly enhance all of his physical abilities to various boundless levels. This resulted in unbelievable levels of strength, speed, stamina, agility, and durability. When Izuku activated One for All, red, vein-like lines course throughout the empowered part of his body. Izuku could focus the stockpiled power into a single body part, or spread it across his entire body evenly, though, focusing the power in a single part puts a greater strain on that part of his body. He was also able to control what percentage of his full power that he uses. Since he was not born with this power, his body was not naturally suited to handle it, however, over time and with continued training with it, his body has become more accustomed to bracing for the strain. He was able to handle 45% of his full power without breaking his bones, with 30% being his normal output. In addition to the stockpiling power, Izuku also had access to a subconscious realm where vestiges of the consciousnesses of the previous One For All holders dwell. These vestiges could trigger Izuku to activate One For All without any conscious input from himself, as seen when he was under the control of Hitoshi's Quirk and illusionary shadows of these echoes appeared in his vision. Izuku had little to no control over this aspect of One For All, being unable to freely enter or exit, his body not being fully materialized, which limited his movement within the realm, and only being able to talk through muffled sounds since his mouth has not fully manifested yet. However, Izuku had reached the point where he can freely communicate with the vestiges of the previous users while still conscious. Izuku is the first holder of One for All known to have gained access to this realm while still alive. Izuku was granted access to the Quirks of the previous owners of One for All, but he has since transferred someof them to Tomura in an effort to defeat him. This left him with only Blackwhip, Smokescreen, and Float, having transferred Gearshift, Fa Jin, and Denger Sense.

School - U.A. High

Occupation - Hero-in-Training

Also Known As - The Peace-Symbol Hero; Deku

Hero Chart Ranking - UNRANKED

Hero Costume - Created by Melissa Shield and Mei using data collected from All Might's against All for One; funded by members of Class A and gifted to him by All Might, Izuku receives a new technology-based Hero costume that looks markedly like his Costume Zeta, albeit more mechanical. This costume can be stored as a briefcase that is marked with the number 18, Izuku's seat number when he was a student.

Fighting Specialty - Close and Ranged Combat

Favorite Food - Katsudon

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Katsuki Bakugou (爆ばく豪ごう勝かつ己き Bakugō Katsuki) aka Kacchan (かっちゃん Katchan) - "If you keep looking down on everyone... you're never gonna notice your own weaknesses."

Age - 20

Birthplace - (Near) Shizuoka Prefecture

Birthday - April 20th

Blood type - A+

Physical Description - A young man of above-average height, with a slim, muscular build, and a fair skin tone. He has short, spiky, sandy blond hair with choppy bangs that hang over his eyebrows, as well as two braids at the back of his head, designed to look like lit fuses. His eyes are sharp and crimson red in color. His right arm is heavily scarred much like Izuku's, additionally, Katsuki's right cheek bears a stitched scar, marking the side of his face. He also has two scars on his body: an impacted one near the base of his left shoulder that stretches to his clavicle, and one on his lower stomach area.

Personality Description - A crude, arrogant, short-tempered, and aggressive person. He ends to come off as unheroic; this problematic behavior going all the way back to his early childhood days when he was known to bully. However, after being accepted into U.A. and experiencing several personal defeats, one of them even coming from Izuku, Katsuki has gradually changed into a less antagonistic person, albeit still retaining a lot of his unpleasant traits. While often portrayed negatively, Katsuki's fierce character and competitive drive have actually granted him an important role among Class 3-A, as a sort of inspirational mood-maker. Determined and thirsty for victory, Katsuki smiles eerily when in the middle of a battle. He is incredibly focused on achieving his own authentic victories and has learned to never underestimate his opponents. Katsuki is not only very athletic and talented at fighting, but also very intelligent and extremely perceptive, capable of strategic planning and improvisation. Katsuki also possesses surprising talent in other areas, such as cooking and music, even though he doesn't show a particular interest in them. Overall, Katsuki is considered a natural-born genius with the potential to be one of the best Pro Heroes around. While a rather volatile hero-in-training who reacts and snaps more than thinking, Katsuki is smart enough to discern who his enemies and allies are. He is not particularly nice or open with people who are on his side, or anyone else for that matter, but will act less unfriendly and sometimes even kind to those that manage to earn his respect. Because of his attitude and vulgar language, Katsuki's U.A. classmates often react negatively to him, although they have come to appreciate his skills and warm up to his personality. Katsuki matures slowly through his time at U.A., coming to befriend some of his classmates and willingly engaging in social interaction with them, though remaining solitary for the most part. Katsuki has a habit of bestowing insulting nicknames upon others, he also refers to people he doesn't know as "Extras" treating them as little more than fodder or steppingstones to his victory until he faces them head-on. Despite this, he can address others properly when it matters, such as when he's serious or in the heat of battle. Katsuki values honesty highly and never lies to the point his brash candor is seen by some as rude and insensitive. He is never afraid of speaking his mind and will notice when people are not being truthful to him. Katsuki is an excellent judge of character, making it hard to deceive him. Due to the constant praise of his abilities and powerful Quirk, Katsuki has developed a superiority complex, and because of that, he desires to be the first and best at everything. Katsuki loves to win above all else and cannot stand it when he doesn't, leading him to lose his already short temper or, less often, sulk. He is fiercely competitive and will never settle for less than the number one spot, having a compulsive need to always strive for victory and also prove people who doubt him wrong. However, Katsuki also values hard work and fair play, to the point of refusing to acknowledge a winning result if he feels that his victory was not earned by actual merit. Along with that, he detests being pitied or looked down on by others and will hold contempt towards those that don't take him seriously, while recognizing the effort of those that manage to put up a challenge against him. Because of his Quirk and talents, Katsuki is very confident and brave to where he is willing to go against anyone who challenges him. He never backs down from a fight and will go out when facing such a powerful opponent. Katsuki is immensely prideful and prefers to act alone, as he hates the idea of being protected or having to rely on other people to assist him unless, in the latter's case, he is recognized as the unquestionable leading figure within a team. Katsuki also has an honorable side to him.

Quirk - Explosion; Allowed him to secrete nitroglycerin-like sweat and ignite it on command, allowing him to create strong, condensed explosions. The more Katsuki sweated, the stronger his explosions became. Katsuki had a strong grasp on the applications of his Quirk, not only could Katsuki use the explosions for attacking, he could also use them to propel himself and navigate through the air at high speeds, allowing him to fly at his opponents without giving them time to react, as well as evade incoming attacks, even while in the air. The shockwave from an explosion could even be used as a shield. Katsuki could keep up his explosions continuously. If Katsuki overused this power, his forearms and other areas where he triggered explosions will start to ache.

School - U.A. High

Occupation - Hero-in-Training

Also Known As - The Explosive Hero: Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight

Hero Chart Ranking - UNRANKED

Hero Costume - A tight, black, tank top with no left sleeve and a long black sleeve that envelops his entire right arm and shoulder, featuring an orange "X" across the middle, creating a V-neck design. There were two black dots along the left side of the collar, which was the trademark of his costume's designer. The outfit included a metallic neck brace with rectangular ends, each having three holes on either side. He wore black sleeves extended from streamlined Grenadier Bracers shaped like smoke grenades up to his biceps, finishing with thin orange tips and featuring silver sights fastened to every knuckle. A green and orange belt, equipped with grenades, secured his baggy pants that had green straps and knee guards. On his feet, he sported black, knee-high combat boots with orange soles, eight eyelets, and straps at the top. His mask was jagged and black, with a large, orange-rimmed flare shape protruding from each side around the eyes.

Fighting Specialty - Close & Ranged Combat

Favorite Food (Headcanon) - Karakarakuo Tsukemen

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Denki Kaminari (上かみ鳴なり電でん気き Kaminari Denki) - "Don't waste your breath. Costumes? Check. On the scene? Check. That makes us heroes!"

Age - 20

Birthplace - Saitama Prefecture

Birthday -  June 29th

Blood type - O-

Physical Description  -  Had almost shoulder-length gold hair, parted to the right with a black lightning-shaped streak on the left of his side fringe, which is angled to partially obscure his left eye. He had slanted, somewhat triangular golden eyes and notably small eyebrows. He was slimmer than most male students in his class, with little visible muscle mass. During the Paranormal Liberation War, Denki gained a scar on his upper left forehead following his injury from Mr. Compress' attack, although his hair covered it rather well.

Personality Description - A friendly, social, and energetic boy who enjoyed hanging out with others. He was rather casual when interacting with other people, including the generally unfriendly Katsuki Bakugou, although he was not above petty complaining or overreacting if he felt annoyed or shocked enough. Denki may come off as blunt and reckless at times but was always well-meaning. He encouraged others to be themselves and become more comfortable doing what they like. Denki was somewhat flirtatious towards the girls in and out of his class, sometimes accompanying Minoru Mineta on his schemes and trying to pass himself off as a smooth talker. He was not very lucky with his approaches, though, frequently having his advances ignored or outright rejected by those he asked out. Denki was also a bit of a jokester and sometimes teased others with playful comments. Overall, Denki was interested in appearing cool and trendy to impress people but had a shallow understanding of how to do so correctly. Denki could be more academically bright, requiring massive help with studying due to his general disinterest and neglect of school duties. He did not appear to pay much attention in classes, got quickly bored from lectures, and suffered anxiety attacks when dealing with tests, at which point he became increasingly agitated and aggressive. Frequently showing a lack of tact and smarts in and outside of school, Denki may give off the impression of being stupid or foolish, leading others to throw snide remarks at him, especially Kyouka Jirou, or underestimate his capabilities as a hero. Denki became distraught when put into stressful situations, appearing spineless and incompetent to foes and allies alike. During combat, he was swift to panic and may accidentally activate his Quirk in the face of imminent danger, leaving himself vulnerable. He became more reluctant to use his full power when there were allies close to him, being afraid of hurting them through collateral damage from his explosive bolts. He became more confident in his fighting abilities when he was assured that all his allies will be safe from his powers. He didn't tolerate others looking down on him and his classmates, and would defend them if necessary. Whenever Denki exceeded his wattage limit, he lost his ability to discharge energy, with his entire personality changing into that of a giggling idiot for a certain period until he reverted to normal. In this state, he was always giving thumbs-ups as a way to let others know that he was okay.

Quirk -  Electrification;  Allowed him to store electricity and discharge it allowing him to cover his body in it. While he could also discharge this energy over a distance, Denki had little to no control over it, meaning it would go everywhere indiscriminately. Exceeding his wattage limit caused his brain to short-circuit, leaving him in a vulnerable state for 1 hour. Denki was also able to absorb and neutralize electricity and other lightning-based Quirks.

School - U.A. High

Occupation - Hero-in-Training

Also Known As - The Stun-Gun Hero; Chargebolt

Hero Chart Ranking - UNRANKED

Hero Costume - A plain white shirt, over which he wore an open black jacket with two white lightning patterns near the hem and collar, and a yellow-rimmed white lightning bolt around each of his shoulders, with matching pants a small white zig-zag near each of their cuffs and brown shoes. He had a single, square-shaped earphone over his right ear, resembling a radio antenna sticking out of the top and a lightning-bolt extension on the left. He wore a white belt that held his pointer ammo with and a white V-neck shirt. Around his right wrist, he wore a wristband with a circular mechanism from which he could shoot disc-shaped Pointers, which aided him in aiming his Quirk. He also wore a black choker with a silver buckle on the left side and a headset with a blue-tinted visor.

Fighting Specialty - Close & Support Combat

Favorite Food - Hamburgers

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

Kyouka Jirou (耳じ郎ろう響きょう香か Jirō Kyōka) - "You wanna talk... about being scared? Or strong? Or weak? Or 'special'? Well, I don't give a crap! You hear me? Screw all that! My problem is that you're the one... who made my pals cry!!"

Age - 20

Birthplace - Shizuoka Prefecture

Birthday -  August 1st

Blood type -  A+

Physical Description  -  A petite, fair-skinned girl with a slender build. She had triangular onyx eyes with notably long lower eyelashes and small eyebrows. Her dark-purple hair is shoulder-length, with an asymmetrical fringe that had two reflections shaped like sound waves on either side. Her most prominent features were the flexible, plug-like earphone jacks hanging from each of her earlobes; they acted like extra limbs that she was able to control at will and change their length if so desired. Following the Paranormal Liberation War, she gained a small scar on her right earphone jack. During the Final War, her left ear and earphone jack were blown off by All for One.  Shortly after the Final War, Kyouka wore a prosthetic in place of her left ear and earphone jack.

Personality Description - A pragmatic, unenthusiastic, blunt, and teasing personality that was mostly shown to those she found irritating, like her fellow classmate Denki Kaminari, whose cluelessness made him an easy target for her snarky comments. Kyouka was not always like this though, as she did enjoy socializing with others, in which case she was usually nice and friendly, most notably with Mina Ashido and the other girls in her class. Kyouka often gesticulated through her elongated earlobes in place of her hands. She could also be quite aggressive, evidenced by when she used the Earphone Jacks her Quirk provided, to physically punish people when provoked or to keep them in line, most notably Denki and Minoru. During hero activities, however, Kyouka prefered smarter approaches, usually by coming up with a plan herself. She was surprisingly organized and made sure to convey her ideas in a way that was easy to understand. Despite the fact that she came off as cold and indifferent, Kyouka also had a much more sensitive side, being very defensive towards her friends, empathetic with others' feelings, and getting flustered when her talents and capabilities are brought up. While Kyouka was hard to unnerve or surprise, she was afraid of horror-based activities and had an aversion to nudity. She was a bit self-conscious about her looks and style as well, becoming noticeably upset when she was not seen as attractive by Minoru, and attacking Denki and Yuuga Aoyama for commenting that her dorm room was 'unladylike'. Like her parents, Kyouka had a major interest in rock music and owned several instruments which she was able to play to some extent. However, she seemed to be somewhat embarrassed about her interests at first, because she perceived them as completely unrelated to heroism, but thanks to a great presentation during the U.A. School Festival, she was able to outgrow that mindset.

Quirk -  Earphone Jack;  She had a pair of headphone jacks hanging from her earlobes. When the jacks were plugged into something, Kyouka could channel the sound of her heartbeat through them in the form of a violent vibration attack. She could stretch her earlobes several meters. This Quirk also allowed her to hear minuscule sounds and vibrations from her surroundings.

School - U.A. High

Occupation - Hero-in-Training

Also Known As - The Hearing Hero; Earphone Jack

Hero Chart Ranking - UNRANKED

Hero Costume - Consisted of a black leather jacket, long salmon-colored shirt with several rips at the collar and hem, black pants, and boots with stereos built into their shafts. She also had a set of headphones with two bracelets that double up as her amplifiers and face paint to two larger chevron-shaped marks. 

Fighting Specialty - Close & Support Combat

Favorite Food (Headcanon) - Sukiyaki

*🕮❀──────✧❅-'♡'-❅✧──────❀🕮*

Hanta Sero (瀬せ呂ろ範はん太た Sero Hanta) - "Unlike some of you, my life wasn't full of wild highs and tragic lows. All I had pushing me forward was, like, not wanting to fall behind on the next practical exam, or whatever. And y'know... it's been some tough times, for him. The guy used to look all zonked-out and empty! Anyone'd be better off... not going through all that miserable, tragic crap!"

Age:   20