Chapter Text
The light breeze and sunny skies were gorgeous. Looking painted in a blue that looked like every other blue. Like a cliche. The house was big and the smell of fresh air was clean. Like freshly watered flowers. Clean air after rain.
Perfect.
But the man next to you was not perfect. His family was not perfect. This marriage was not perfect.
Marriage.
Married into the Todoroki family. Or bought into it. Who'd have thought arranged marriages were still a thing now, after the war. But out of all the heroes you weren't surprised it'd be Endavor who'd buy you for his son. No other then number two hero. Shoto Todoroki.
Why he'd accepted was beyond you. But you knew about their history. All of it exposed by Dabi, or Touya, during the war.
You would be just another piece of their family drama. A someone, but never the someone you wanted to be. A mom who'd burn half their son's face off. A mom who'd never be there for her child. A woman who'd give herself up for money. A woman who'd see no other future then the pain of her children.
Because if Shoto agreed to this arrangement he was no better than his father.
Or was he?
"This is your room." Shoto nodded towards the empty room. His shoulders were slightly tense and his neck looked stiff. Or maybe his whole body did. White sheets decorated the bed and the window showed a perfect view over the small garden.
Not once did he look you in the eyes. His grey and blue gaze finding interest in the floorboards, the wall, the ceiling.
"You have your own bathroom next door, and I'll be in the last room down the hall."
The hall in question was too perfect. Lit in a way that made it seem cozy. Painted and perfect. Gosh that word.
Shoto looked bored. His face showed no emotion. Gave no comfort in this situation. Why would he though. He had agreed to this.
You had partly agreed to this by being here. Even if it were your parents who had signed the contract.
The only way you could make this harder for him was by just not speaking. Not acknowledging how hard he was trying to make this easier for you. You hated this. How unfazed he acted. Hated him for going along with this. Still you followed him to the garden in the backyard.
Its flowers were gorgeous. Exotic. Each one colorful and unique. Placed all surronding one big tree. A lovely cherry blossom. It stood proudly. Its petals organized in a way that almost seemed staged. Yet again, perfect.
"Wow."
The word left you in a quiet breath. Three letters. One syllable. Barely anything.
Still Shoto turned towards you. His gaze still never meeting yours but there. In front of you. Directed towards you. It was like he was trying to give you an ounce of privacy. Trying to keep those eyes from meeting yours. To keep them from trying to read you.
Your eyes would say it all. And as much as you wanted to show him how much you hated all of this, how much you wanted to scream and fight and punch him in that unfazed face of his. Even though all you wanted was for him to actually acknowledge you. Not just this arrangement. This marriage.
You couldn't let him see that.
"Why are you smiling?" You asked. You didn't mean to. You didn't care.
He was still not looking at you but you could see the small curve in his lips. The small crease the smile caused on his almost perfect face.
"You actually said something."
"Well I'm not mute."
"Yeah, you're not."
The conversation ended there. So did Shoto's smile. After maybe a minute. For the next seconds that passed you both seemed content to sit in silence. Just looking at the garden. Admiring it's flowers. Like a painting. A picture capturing...
Something. Something being the flowers. Something being the cherry blossom. Something being two people. Or two people being something. The wind kept on blowing calmly and leave and flowers flew in the air. Up, down. Left, right. Indecisive. For what felt like hours the birds flew above them. The sun disappered leaving room for the moon, the stars and for the dark. A practiced routine almost.
"We should head in." Shoto whispered.
And that he did. Leaving you alone. Giving you the choice to stay or go back in.
He hadn't locked you out or forced you in. It was ironic that this was the choice he was letting you make. Not the others.
The night was beautiful. It always was on the countryside. The stars being free to shine. And that was it. The first day. Once back inside you saw Shoto cooking. Or at least attempting to. It smelled of something salty. Some type of fish. But all food would do right now would make you nauseous. It could be sweet, salty, perfect... You would still not eat it.
"I'm going to bed."
Ready for this day to be over. Ready to drift into unconciousness. Ready to dream. Ready to fly. Or maybe just fall in a nightmare. You didn't look back to see how Shoto would react. And if you had, the look in those eyes would have stopped you from leaving him there in that kitchen.