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Shoto stared up at the ceiling from his place on his needlessly lavish bed. Soon he’d have to get up though, to get ready for the ball that evening. He was required to attend because his father was hosting, but he had no interest in attending an event full of strangers, especially strangers in masks. The ball was to be a masquerade, most likely to persuade people to participate in the auction his father was planning to hold at the event.
Turning on his side, Shoto looked at the outfit his father prepared for him for probably the hundredth time since it was delivered to him that morning. There was a bright crimson vest held together by golden clasps, and underneath was a white shirt with a frilly collar and cuffs, and poofy sleeves. The pants were black along with the boots, and there were white gloves to top it off. At least he got to have some input for the mask. His father insisted on flames to match the vest, so Shoto placed them sparingly along the bottom edge of the black mask trimmed with gold. It was in these flames that he strategically incorporated the Todoroki families fire sigil. If he had to have it somewhere, better somewhere less noticeable. If he had to attend the ball, he at least didn’t want to be recognized.
Dragging himself out of bed, Shoto took a quick shower, before donning his formal attire for the long night ahead of him. Looking out the window, he could already see the first guests arriving.
-
Slipping into the ballroom as stealthily as he could, Shoto took a look around. He didn’t have much interest in socializing with so many people, but he suspected there might be at least one friendly face amongst the sea of masks.
Sure enough, he spotted Momo in a silvery ankle length dress, a matching mask, and her dark locks down from their usual style. She looked about as lost as he felt while her parents talk with another noble. The Yaoyorozu family were frequent guests to many of his fathers formal gatherings, so he’d gotten to know her on multiple occasions. Dare he say he’d made a friend.
Making his way across the ballroom, he grabbed a glass of sparkling water from a server’s tray as he passed. He stopped a few paces behind Momo with a click of his boot.
“You look like you could use a drink, m’lady”
When she turned around, Shoto didn’t miss the relieved look in her eyes as she recognised who was offering the drink. Reaching out, Momo took the offered glass.
“And, maybe some company as well?” she asked hopefully.
For an answer, Shoto gave a small smile and stepped up next to her, offering his arm. Momo returned his smile and took his arm, allowing herself to be led to one of the many balconies. They found respite from the stuffy ballroom in the cool night air outside.
They stood in companionable silence as they often did. It was nice, because Shoto wasn’t very talkative, and it saved them the trouble of coming up with subjects of conversation. Just standing and watching the other guests enjoy the party was much preferable to being part of it.
“Shoto,” Momo tugged his sleeve with the hand not holding sparkling water, and pointed to somewhere inside. Following her gaze, he saw a girl, girl? They were wearing a dress, but that’s hardly an indicator of gender, guest then. He saw a guest being cornered by two large men in matching purple suits of different shades. The two men seemed to be giving them a hard time.
He turned back to Momo, “I’ll go see if I can help” Then he set off towards the group of guests with his natural poker face. Upon getting closer, he could start to make out some of the conversation.
The first man, in the darker suit was speaking, “... come now, it’ll be fun.”
“I already told you, I’m…” Shoto couldn’t quite make out everything they said, “rather not… so if you’ll excuse me.” The guest in the dress, they looked like a peacock, tried to leave. The second man grabbed their wrist, then waist, and leaned down. Shoto sped up his pace, almost there. He stepped up behind the smaller guest, in front of the two men, and opened his mouth to speak but stopped. The second man was suddenly blocked by the peacock guest’s fan and had his own wrist in a painful looking grip. The first man looked like he didn't know how to proceed.They finally let go of the man’s wrist when he begged them to stop and apologized profusely.
“I said, no, and I don’t like that, so if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be leaving now,” at that, they went to turn around. Shoto quickly reeled in his shock to return to his emotionless expression, when did his mouth start gaping? Clearly not expecting someone to be right behind them, they bumped into his chest.
They pull back and glare up at him, they really were short, barely coming up to his chin if you count the fluffy mass of green hair, and that was wearing heels. “You with them?” they pointed back towards the men in purple suits with their now closed fan.
“I-no-” Shoto held his hands up, “I actually came to assist you since it looked like they were giving you a hard time–but you clearly had it covered,” He dropped his hands, “I’m rather impressed with how you dealt with them.” They stared at him for a few more seconds, the other two having already fled to some other part of the room, before dropping their guarded posture.
“You’re right, and, thank you, even if you didn’t end up doing anything, it’s nice to know someone would.” They flashed him a smile.
With the tension melting away, Shoto had a chance to really look at them. The aforementioned dress was dark greenish-blue, short and sleeveless, with nothing in the way of straps either. The top and bottom were lined with black ruffles, larger at the top, and following up the small split on the left side at the bottom. From the back the peacock plumage fanned out and downwards, not quite reaching the floor, though it probably would if not for the black wedge heels they were wearing. Wrapping around their back and arms was a semi-transparent, light blue shawl, long enough to hang past their knees. They had a black choker with an emerald embellishment, and a similar emerald as the base for their small peacock-fan-like hair pin. Their mask was white with a receding blue diamond pattern from the solid teal left half. The feathers on the left half were the same color as the mask, which matched the dress as well, and their tips were black. Behind the mask were round, yet somehow piercing emerald eyes. Their hair was dark green, looked impossibly soft, and was artfully messy, being held back on the right with the hair pin. Their complexion was smooth and lightly tanned, and their exposed shoulders and what little he could see of their cheeks were smattered with freckles.
That was a lot. How long had Shoto been staring at this person? Either they hadn’t noticed yet, maybe they had and thought he was creepy, or maybe they were also- the trail of thought ended as the orchestra began to play. Right this was a ball, he was expected to dance. Shifting his eyes back to theirs, he cleared his throat and offered a hand.
“May I have this dance?”
If he had to dance with people, he’d be a fool to drop this opportunity. There’s no way his social skills could get him a dance with anyone else but Momo, and she was still back at the balcony. They seemed to consider for a moment, and they looked like they wanted to decline. Wow, rejection felt a lot worse than Shoto expected. And then there was a hand in his, their fan was tucked away, and they were smiling up at him.
“You may.”
Placing a hand on their waist, he began to gently guide them to match the waltz of the other guests. The dance floor was very quickly filled with pairs of dancers, moving in freestyle sways, dips, and spins to the 1-2-3 beat of the music, more emphasis on the 1. Shoto slowly increased their movement, but seeing how they easily matched his pace and movements, he grew bolder. What was once simple moves flowing smoothly within a concentrated space, became something like flying. They glided around the dancefloor, and it was almost as if the music was shifting to match their pace, not almost, it was. The slow music that first graced the dancefloor was replaced by fast paced violins and flutes that encouraged quicker and more diverse movements. This was the first time Shoto’s been glad he learned how to dance, it was exhilarating. They both split off, but not far, and began doing independent synchronized moves around each other, connecting, then splitting again in seconds. Shoto brought them back in, and with two hands on their waist, he lifted them above him and spun. In one fluid motion, Shoto spiralled them back down and into a dip, the music cutting off as soon as they paused. Both breathing hard, Shoto pulled them back to their feet to the sudden applause. Oh, he was wondering how they hadn’t hit anyone when he wasn’t exactly watching where he was going. The other guests had spread to the edges, leaving plentiful space in the middle of the room for the pair to dance. That was rather embarrassing now that he thought about it.
With a slight flush hiding behind his mask, Shoto turned back to his partner, and gave a slight bow. They courtseyed in return.
“You have excellent dancing skills, that was probably the most fun I’ve had dancing, well, ever.”
“I concur, though I believe I have you to thank for being such a good lead.”
Shoto smiled a little, then remembered Momo back at the balcony. “Excuse me, I left my friend at one of the balconies, she’s probably waiting for me.”
“Of course, it would be rude to keep her waiting longer than you have to, go on then.”
“Right, thank you,” and with another small bow, Shoto quickly walked back to the balcony where he’d left Momo.
He got a bit uneasy when he saw Momo’s devilish grin. She was probably watching him the whole time. Joining her back at the railing, Shoto tried to avoid eye contact in hopes she won’t say anything. That wish was dashed in a matter of seconds when Momo spoke up.
“Looks like someone scored a dance. And that finishing move? Didn’t know you had it in you Romeo.”
“Please stop.” Shoto all but whines in response.
“So, tell me about them. They clearly weren’t what we were expecting if what I saw was accurate. Did they really break that guy’s wrist, or sprang it? What were they like? It looked like you actually talked to them which we both know you don’t do often. I know this is a mostly anonymous party, but did you at least get a name?”
That last part made Shoto let out a groan, “I don’t even know for sure their gender, much less their name.” Momo giggled. “Don’t laugh at my suffering.”
“Come on, let’s think positive, you know what they look like, and you still have the rest of the night. And it can’t be that hard to spot them, those peacock feathers were pretty bold.”
Shoto took a deep breath, “Yeah, you're right.”
“I know,” Momo said with a smug look.
Shoto shot her a halfhearted glare before looking out at the sea of guests. Surprisingly, not many people were wearing green, but none of the ones that were looked anything like his mystery guest. Before he could extend his search, he heard the loud voice of an announcer.
“And now, the long awaited arrival of his lordship, Enji, Todoroki!” And just as they said, his father came out of a door where the two grand staircases met in an elaborate outfit, quite literally wreathed in flames. Why must he flaunt his magic at any given opportunity? A polite applause filled the ballroom, while Shoto scowled. Momo, very helpfully, made a fake gagging sound next to him, which he appreciated.
“I’m going to head over now, if I’m going to be called over eventually, better to just get it over with than let him make a spectacle of it.” Momo simply nodded, and he discreetly made his way to the closest staircase. Once everyone had more or less stopped looking in his general direction, he ducked his head and ascended the staircase as quickly as possible.
Shoto straightened his posture and inclined his head, “Father,” was all he said as greeting.
“Shoto,” is about the response he was expecting. “I expect you’ve been maintaining the Todoroki reputation while I was gone?”
“Yes, father.” was Shoto’s soft reply.
“Have you interacted with the guests this time around?”
“I took the first dance.”
“Good,” His father gave him the look that said they were done, and he swiftly made his way to and down the staircase. Once he reached the reprieve of the familiar balcony, he breathed a sigh of relief.
Momo patted his back, “Why don’t we get some refreshments, you look like you could use a drink,” Momo suggests.
“Yeah,” Shoto agrees, “I’d like that.”
-
A few hours passed in which nothing much of note happened, except that he took one more dance with Momo. He could’ve sworn he’d combed every inch of the ballroom for the peacock guest, but to no avail. With midnight approaching, the bidding would likely begin soon. Right on cue, the announcer spoke up.
“Gather round, any who wish to participate, the bidding will begin shortly!” If Shoto had learned anything from his father's events over the years, it was that ‘shortly’ could be from 10 minutes to 30. It would likely be the latter, seeing as all the participants still needed to make their way to the bidding area, they still had yet to bring out any of the items being bid on, and his father just loved suspense, liked to keep his audience on edge.
As the guests slowly congregate to one half of the room, it revealed a few who decidedly weren’t interested. Shoto made note to respect those people for their refusal to support his father’s method of profit. After all, many of the items up for bid were cruelly acquired. Dragon tears, for example, were normally quite hard to come by, since dragons rarely shed tears unless through terrible agony. Back when the world was full of wizards powerful enough to slay dragons, it was common practice to capture a baby dragon, and slaughter their family in front of them to gather the tears. Shoto shuddered at the thought. Then of course, there were the dragons that were killed in the process, since just about every part of a dragon had value. Honestly, it was pretty much a black market auction.
In that moment, Shoto found, in the few who hadn’t moved to join the others, the one he’d been searching for for the past few hours. Shoto surged forward, and got about halfway there before nearly tripping from the sudden tremor that passed through the floor, and the deafening sound of an explosion to accompany it.
One of the servants tasked with retrieving the bidding goods came bursting through one of the doors.
“My Lord! T-the vault, the one with the bidding goods! It’s been blown open a-and cleaned out! Fire! The one we believe the perpetrator used to shield their escape! It’s spreading!” The end was practically screamed, and their voice seemed strained.
“What?!” was his father’s enraged response.
Shoto found himself quickly swallowed in the chaos of guests pushing for the exit, and he lost sight of his goal. Where, where were they? Were they heading for the exit too, had they already gotten out? Then he spotted them through a gap between people, headed towards one of the balconies.
“Wait!” Shoto yells as he pushed through the mass of bodies. Breaking free of the flow, he ran to catch up to them, it was a good thing he has such long legs. Shoto reached out, and caught them around the wrist “Wait a minute!” he had to yell over the panic.
He spun them around to face him, and thankfully they didn't try to break his wrist. Bending down and bringing their hand up, he placed a kiss on their knuckle. Without moving from his place, he said, “Until we meet again, Green,” then released their hand and straightened up.
Before he could even blink, he was being pulled down to their level by their long shawl. They looked him right in the eyes, their faces mere inches apart. “The same to you,” and their soft smile became a smirk, “Pink.” Then as if to prove their point, there was a soft pair of lips on his for barely a second. Stunned, Shoto could only watch as they disappeared off the balcony, the silky fabric still draped around his neck.
He was only snapped out of his daze when his father’s grating voice assaulted his ears.
“Shotooo!” He yelled, dragging out the ‘o’ at the end.
That’s when he remembered the fire, and the fact that he was the most well equipped to stop it. Taking the long length of fabric, and wrapping it around his wrist, Shoto bolted for the door leading to the hallway with the vault. There were still people in the building, he needed to stop it before the smoke reached the ballroom.
When he reached the hallway, he could see fire blocking the vault door and the hallway beyond. Calling upon his ice magic, Shoto lightly coated the walls in ice, snuffing out the fire closest to him. He continued down the hall, passing the vault door, and glancing in to see it had indeed been cleaned out. Luckily, Shoto could generate ice faster than the fire could spread, so within a matter of minutes, the charred ceiling and walls are dripping with melting ice, and the floor was one big shallow puddle.
Now that the immediate danger was gone, it hit him that Green (he still doesn’t have a name for them) jumped off the balcony. Making his way back to said balcony, he looked down from where they jumped. Good, he didn’t see a body, or any blood from a body that was there and moved. Making his way down to the ground floor and out around to the side of the mansion, he looked up at the balcony again. Trailing down most of the wall was a scratch mark from some sort of blade. Had they seriously used the friction from a knife to slow their descent and make it to the ground? That was kinda hot, but again, why the balcony!
Thoroughly confused at their method of exit, Shoto headed back inside to collapse on his bed. Now, he was even more excited than before for when they would eventually meet again, and they would, that was the promise in their farewell.
-
Now out of his formal attire, Izuku sat at the bar counter and banged his head on it for at least the tenth time that evening. He drew a couple of worried glances from the bartender, but he was too lost in his thoughts to notice.
The notorious master thief deku, employed under Aizawa in the special ops department of the underground organization UA, anonymous operative who has never failed a mission, the most recent one was no exception, couldn’t wipe the stupid blush off his face. What could be the reason for this problem he faced? The double edged sword, named Shoto Todoroki.
Once he got a good look at him, he’d noticed the well-hidden fire sigil on his mask. It was a relief knowing there was someone there who could quickly put out fires. Another bonus was that him being there turned a purely serious mission into something he’d actually enjoyed. He was polite, breathtaking, and drop dead gorgeous, and it had been a while since Izuku danced with someone who could dance as well as him or better. On the other hand, he was so distracting, Izuku almost forgot about the mission entirely while they danced. That would’ve gotten him an earful from Aizawa.
At the end of the night, Izuku pretty much promised him they’d meet again, he even sealed it with a kiss! What was he thinking, that was so stupid! The chances he’d be able to make good on his promise were less than 1%. Even if he got assigned another place where they might meet, he’d most likely have to hide his identity from him for the sake of the mission. Why was he always such a disaster!
With a resolve strong enough to kill a man, Izuku raised his head and slammed his money on the counter so hard the bartender almost dropped the glass he was polishing. He ordered his second red wine of the evening, and sipped it with just one thought on his mind. ‘I’ll see him again, even if I have to defy Aizawa to do it’.
