Chapter 1: The Circus
Hello, Valentine here!
Everyone in the MHA universe is aged up to 19 in this fic because 1. Obviously and 2. Ew
Enjoy!
The Circus
The sleek black town car glided through the bustling streets of Musutafu city, its polished exterior reflecting the bright lights of the towering skyscrapers. Inside, Shoto Todoroki sat beside his father, Enji Todoroki, better known as the pro hero Endeavor. Shoto tugged at the collar of his tailored suit, feeling uncomfortable in the restrictive formalwear. He much preferred the ease of movement his everyday t-shirt and jeans provided.
"Stop fidgeting," Endeavor chided, his deep voice cutting through the hum of the car's engine. "This party is important for our public image. The Ishikawa family controls the largest media conglomerate in Japan." The old man adjusted his costume, reminding Shoto for the hundredth time.
"You're saying that like I didn't grow up in the house next door to them," Shoto muttered, his words ignored by his father.
"Their influence is vast, and it's crucial that we maintain a positive relationship with them."
The young hero resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Normally, he would never have agreed to accompany his father to an outing like this. He found these high-society events tiresome and superficial, but he understood the necessity of playing the game. With his upcoming entrance into U.A., the most prestigious hero academy in the country, it was more important than ever to showcase the Todoroki family's strength and unity. Just another night well spent in a masquerade, he thought wryly.
As they approached the venue, the muffled sounds of the crowd and pulsing music grew louder. The car slowed to a stop, and Shoto peered out the window at the throng of paparazzi and well-dressed guests. Camera flashes illuminated the night sky, and the red carpet leading to the museum's grand entrance was lined with reporters and fans eager to catch a glimpse of the arriving celebrities and heroes.
Endeavor's eyes narrowed as he surveyed the scene. "Ah, it looks like Ren Ishikawa is back in the city," he remarked, a hint of calculation in his tone. "Shoto, make sure to get into her good graces tonight. Her father's support could be invaluable to our family."
Shoto felt a flicker of annoyance at his father's blatant attempt to use him as a pawn in his political maneuverings. "Why me?" he muttered under his breath, but Endeavor had already stepped out of the car, his imposing figure cutting a path through the clamoring crowd.
With a sigh, Shoto followed suit, his mind drifting to memories of Ren from their childhood. He hadn't seen her in years, not since she had been sent away to a school overseas. Back then, she had been a precocious and lively girl, always eager to drag Shoto into her mischievous schemes. But that was a long time ago, and Shoto had no doubt that Ren had grown into a typical socialite, more interested in fashion and parties than anything of substance.
Ignoring the group that gathered around his father on the red carpet, Shoto made his way up the museum steps, blinking in annoyance at the flashes of the cameras. He brushed a straying strand of red hair from his eyes before he caught sight of a girl he once knew. Posing for photographs beside her father, Akira Ishikawa, Ren stood, elegant and still, as she was trained to be, in a black dress. Her sleek black hair fell like a waterfall behind her back, her grey eyes sparkled in the limelight. She had indeed grown up, her once childish features now that of a woman born to be in the spotlight.
It made the hero-in-training question himself; did he look grown up to her, or still that same child she would call to over the garden fence? Shoto couldn't help but notice the numerous men vying for her attention, their eager smiles and flattering words a constant buzz around her.
Endeavor met his son on the steps and leaned in close to Shoto, his voice low and conspiratorial. "We're lucky you're good-looking," he whispered, nodding to the men around Ren. "Use that to your advantage and try to talk to her tonight."
Shoto's jaw clenched at his father's callous remark, but he maintained his composure as they entered the grand foyer of the museum, the opulent decor and shimmering chandeliers a testament to the Ishikawa family's wealth and influence. The foyer was bustling with people and jubilance, servers carrying drink trays, women draped over men's arms, and the chatter of politicians. Turning around at the sound of commotion, Shoto watched Ren and her father enter the room. Her skin was golden, glowing under all the attention. Shoto scoffed, realising she had turned out to be exactly what he thought she would be.
Followed by a cloud of paparazzi, Ren stood beside her father as he addressed the crowd with practiced charm. She smiled and waved, the picture of a delighted daughter, her eyes sparkling, giving nothing away of how she felt inside. The growing sense of unease was seeping out of her bones and into her blood. The glitz and glamour of her family's public persona had always felt hollow to her, a glossy veneer hiding the ugliness beneath. Their constant and incessant hero-worshiping was grating to a girl who wanted nothing to do with that part of the world.
"Ren!" A reporter shouted her name, and she lowered her arm from a wave, nodding at the man. "What are your plans now that you're back in the city?" Ren allowed her eyes to skim the crowd to engage all onlookers like a beauty pageant contestant. When she parted her lips to speak, however, she was momentarily paralysed as her eyes locked onto a familiar face. There, beyond the group of gathered reporters and photographers, a silent, stoic figure amidst the bustle of a party, was a boy she used to know. Her father, confused by her sudden and uncharacteristic silence, was quick to cover for her.
"My daughter will be joining the family business, of course!" Akira declared, his booming voice carrying over the crowd. "She's ready to take on a larger role in our media empire." Ren's smile faltered for a split second, the words like a punch to her gut. She had no interest in following in her father's footsteps, no desire to perpetuate the sensationalised, hero-obsessed culture that dominated the news cycles. But as always, her had the last word.
Her eyes did not leave her old friend's face as her father continued to address the crowd. Shoto Todoroki, the prodigious son of the pro hero Endeavor, stood behind his father with an air of detachment, his heterochromatic eyes staring back at her with cool disinterest. Did he remember her? The little girl he used to call to over the fence?She supposed, he was like her, quietly playing the game of the adults around them. Or was he waiting too, for the world to change?
The girl's stare was broken as Endeavor walked in front of his son and strode forward to greet her father, the two men exchanging exaggerated embraces and boisterous laughter. She knew their friendship was one of convenience, a carefully cultivated alliance between the hero industry and the media that controlled the public narrative. She tried to look past them again for her childhood friend but could not find him again.
Before she could process the strange flutter in her chest, a familiar voice called out to her. "Ren! You're back!" her childhood friend, Mei Yamazaki, exclaimed, bounding over to engulf Ren in a hug. "We have to take a selfie to commemorate your return!" Ren allowed herself to be pulled into the photo, pasting on a bright smile as Mei snapped the picture. But even as she laughed and posed, her mind kept drifting back to Shoto and the mystery of the young man he had become.
The night wore on, and Shoto found himself drowning in a sea of meaningless conversations and shallow compliments. Everyone wanted to talk about his acceptance into U.A., their words dripping with false sincerity and thinly veiled envy. His father, of course, reveled in the attention, boasting about the Todoroki family's unparalleled strength and the expectations placed upon Shoto's shoulders.
Shoto's mind wandered, his thoughts consumed by the brief moment of eye contact with Ren. The girl he had known had grown into a striking young woman, her presence commanding attention even as she seemed to retreat from it. There was something in her eyes, a flicker of discontent that mirrored his own. He wondered what had brought her back to the city, what dreams or ambitions she harboured beneath the polished veneer of a media heiress.
Seeking respite from the suffocating atmosphere, Shoto's gaze roamed the crowded ballroom until it landed on the very girl he was thinking about. She looked as bored as he felt, her polite smile not quite reaching her eyes as she nodded along to whatever inane conversation she was trapped in. Seizing the opportunity to escape, Ren deftly plucked a drink from a passing waiter's tray and slipped into an adjacent room, disappearing from view.
Endeavor, ever vigilant, noticed Ren's departure and promptly elbowed Shoto in the ribs. "Go after her," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. "This is your chance to make a good impression."
Shoto bit back a retort, knowing it was futile to resist his father's commands. With a resigned sigh, he set his own drink aside, tugged at his shirt collar and followed Ren's path, his mind churning with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Was she still the girl he remembered from a decade ago? Or had she become someone entirely different?
As he stepped into the quieter side room, less grand than the ballroom, Shoto spied his old friend standing out on the balcony. The cool night air was a welcome respite from the stuffy atmosphere of the party. He found her leaning against the railing, her eyes fixed on the glittering cityscape below. The distant sounds of traffic and the gentle breeze whispering through her hair created a serene moment amidst the chaos of the evening.
"Needed a break from the circus too?" Ren asked, not turning around.
Shoto moved to stand beside her, resting his arms on the railing. "Something like that."
The girl flashed her eyes over to him, and she regarded Shoto with a raised eyebrow. "Shoto Todoroki," she mused, her voice tinged with amusement, saying his name for the first time in years felt strange. "I see you've been tasked with the unenviable job of making nice with the media heiress."
Shoto smirked, heartened by her blunt humor. "You caught me. And here I was under the impression that you enjoyed these pretentious affairs." Ren took a sip of her drink, her smile turning wry. "You looked quite at home though, in front of all those cameras. They training you up to be the next weather girl?" Ren looked genuinely surprised that he could not keep up the pretence for very long.
"Ouch!" She bit her lip as though in pain, "are you here to insult me, or seduce me?" Shoto averted his eyes from her lips and cleared his throat.
"It's been a long time, Ren," he moved back to lean against a pillar opposite her.
"Ten years," she mused, her dark hair falling from her shoulder as she turned to him. "Your old man still dragging you to these things?" The boy nodded. "We all have our roles to play, right?" She whispered, "the perfect son, the dutiful daughter. It's all a grand performance."
There was a hint of bitterness in her words that Shoto recognized all too well. He stepped closer, his curiosity piqued. "What brings you back to the city after all these years? Ready to take your rightful place in the Ishikawa media dynasty?"
Ren scoffed, swirling the amber liquid in her glass. "Hardly. I'm here to finish my studies in journalism, much to my father's chagrin. He'd rather have me be a pretty face, parading around at events like this."
Shoto nodded in understanding, all too familiar with the weight of parental expectations. "Journalism, huh? I didn't take you for the type to chase after heroes for a scoop."
"Oh, I have no interest in the hero worship that passes for news these days." Ren's eyes glinted with a fierce determination. "There are far more important stories to be told; the world is bigger than just heroes and villains, Shoto." He found himself drawn to the fire in her gaze. This was not the spoiled socialite he had assumed her to be. No, Ren Ishikawa had become something else entirely. "The world is so much more complicated than that," Ren sighed, reaching for her glass on the railing. "We were naive children the last time we spoke, believing in the simplicity of it all."
As she lifted the glass, it slipped from her fingers, tumbling towards the ground below. In a flash, Ren's hand shot out, grasping the glass mid-air. At the same moment, Shoto's own hand closed around hers, his reflexes kicking in.
Ren gasped, recoiling as a sharp, icy sensation spread across her skin. Shoto's eyes widened in surprise, amazed that he had affected her so strongly without any intention or effort.
"Your skin," he murmured, releasing her hand. "It reacted so intensely to my quirk. I barely touched you."
Ren flexed her fingers, a small smile playing on her lips. "I nearly forgot that you're one of them," she murmured and set her glass down, before reaching for his hands. "Your quirk is hot and cold, right? One side cold, one side hot." Her fingers traced over his palms, feeling the contrasting temperatures. Shoto stood perfectly still, his breath catching in his throat at her bold touch.
Her eyes looked up to his forehead, right where his hair parted in two colours. "Your body is divided right down the middle..." As she spoke, her eyes traveled down the middle of his face as though looking for the line of separation. Ren's eyes caught on his lips, and she was surprised to find herself wondering what his tongue might feel like.
Shoto felt a rush of heat flood his face, a mixture of embarrassment and desire coursing through his veins. He opened his mouth to respond, but the words died on his tongue as the balcony door swung open.
Ren's friend, Mei, stepped outside, her eyes widening as she took in the scene before her. "There you are, Ren! Your father is looking for you."
The girl with dark hair released Shoto's hands and looked away, suddenly aware of the charged atmosphere between them. As she moved to follow her friend, Ren paused beside Shoto, her lips curving into a tempting smile. "Time to finish the performance for the evening," she said innocently, as though nothing unusual had just passed between them. "Until next time, Todoroki."
With that, she sauntered away, leaving Shoto standing on the balcony, staring after her. His mind raced with a thousand questions, a thousand possibilities. Who had she become, really? What secrets lay beneath her polished exterior? And why, after all these years, did the mere touch of her hand set his heart racing?
Shoto took a deep breath, the cool night air filling his lungs. He knew, with a certainty that both thrilled and terrified him, that this was only the beginning. With a final glance at the glittering city below, Shoto straightened his tie and returned to the party, ready to play his role once more. But even as he smiled and nodded and shook hands, his thoughts never strayed far from her.
As he climbed back into the sleek black town car, his father's voice a distant buzz in his ears, he couldn't help but wonder what the future held. In that brief moment on the balcony, Shoto had glimpsed a kindred spirit, a soul as lost and lonely as his own.
Ren watched his car leave from the balcony, her mind racing with questions about the boy she had left behind in this city. In the world of television cameras and photographers, she rarely saw anything unedited, un-airbrushed. The moment their eyes locked on the balcony she felt as though she had seen a glimmer of hope, a chance at something real and true amidst the chaos of their world.
"Ah!" With a gasp of surprise at the feel of someone watching her, she turned to find her father standing in the doorway, his eyes fixed on the retreating taillights of the Todoroki family's vehicle. Akira Ishikawa's face was unreadable, a mask of calculated calm that Ren knew all too well.
"Did you manage to speak with the Todoroki boy?" he asked, his voice low and measured. Ren nodded, her heart racing as she tried to decipher the hidden meaning behind her father's words. "Good," Akira continued, moving to stand beside her at the railing. "It's important that we maintain a close relationship with the Todorokis. They're a powerful family, and their influence could be invaluable to us."
Ren swallowed hard, a sense of unease settling in the pit of her stomach. She had always known that her father saw her as a pawn in his endless games of power and control, but hearing him speak so plainly about his intentions made her feel like a helpless puppet, dancing on strings she couldn't see.
"I'm not sure what you expect me to do, Father," she said softly, her eyes fixed on the distant city lights. "Shoto and I... we're not close. Not anymore."
Akira chuckled, a sound devoid of warmth or humor. "Oh, my dear Ren," he said, placing a heavy hand on her shoulder. "You underestimate yourself. You have a way of getting under people's skin, of making them want to confide in you. Use that to your advantage. Get close to the Todoroki boy. Learn his secrets. And when the time is right..."
He trailed off, leaving the rest of his sentence hanging in the air like a threat. Ren shivered, suddenly feeling very cold despite the warm summer breeze.
Whaddya think? Worth a second chapter?
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