Showtime

The warm Spring breeze rustled through the leaves of the old oak tree that stood tall and proud in the Ishikawa family's back garden. The sun's golden rays danced through the branches, casting long shadows on the lush green grass below. In the midst of this tranquil scene, a young girl with raven-black hair and piercing grey eyes swung back and forth on a rope swing, her small hands gripping tightly to the worn fibres.

Ren, just five years old, was dressed in a vibrant red sundress that matched the fiery hue of her best friend's hair. The dress billowed around her as she swung, the fabric catching the wind and making her feel as if she could fly. Her feet, bare and grass-stained, kicked out in front of her as she propelled herself higher and higher, her eyes fixed on the fence that separated her family's property from the Todorokis'.

She was waiting, as she always did, for Shoto to come out and play. But as the minutes ticked by and the shadows grew longer, Ren's heart began to sink. She could hear the muffled sounds of training coming from beyond the fence - the grunts of exertion, the crackle of flames, and the sharp, barking commands of Endeavor's voice.

Ren's hand tightened around the rope of the swing as she heard Shoto's voice, high-pitched and strained, pleading with his father for patience and understanding. At first, she feared Endevour, hid behind the fence whenever he would pop his head out of a doorway to see what Shoto was doing. He was like a giant thundercloud that followed Shoto around, crackling with lightening, threatening to unleash a downpour on the little boys shoulders. Now, she hated him. The number 2 hero was no hero to her. Watching Shoto being tortured by his father, hearing his cries, his screams for mercy, turned her heartbreak into hatred.

As Ren swung back and forth, lost in thought, a single leaf from the oak tree drifted down in front of her eyes. It was a vibrant green, edged with gold, and it seemed to dance on the breeze as it fell. Ren's gaze followed its path, transfixed by the way it twisted and turned in the air.

But then, out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of something that made her heart skip a beat. A pair of eyes, the same stormy grey as her own, peering at her through a gap in the fence.

Ren's feet dragged against the ground, slowing her swing to a stop. She hopped off, her bare feet sinking into the soft grass as she made her way towards the fence. As she drew closer, she saw that the eyes belonged to a woman - a beautiful, ethereal woman with long white hair and a gentle smile.

It was Rei, Shoto's mother, and she was dressed in a simple white sundress, an apron tied around her waist. In her hand, she held a basket filled with ripe, juicy berries, the fruits of her labor in the Todoroki family's garden.

"Little Ren," Rei said, her voice soft and melodic. "You're so fond of Shoto, aren't you? You wait out here for hours, just to see him."

Ren approached the fence shyly, her small hands clasped in front of her as she blushed under the woman's affection. She had always liked Rei, had always been drawn to her sweet, calm demeanour. She was the opposite of Endeavor in every way - kind where he was cruel, gentle where he was harsh, approachable where he was intimidating.

"Even when you were born," Rei continued, her eyes distant and slightly unfocused, "you waited a whole five hours for him to come into the world. It's your birthdays soon, isn't it? I hope we can all celebrate together."

Ren nodded slowly, but as she looked up at Rei, she noticed something strange in the woman's expression. Behind the smile, behind the warmth and kindness, there was a deep, profound sadness. It was as if a shadow had fallen over her face, a darkness that even the bright Springsun couldn't chase away.

Rei loved Shoto more than anything in the world, that she wanted nothing more than for him to have a normal, happy life. That's why she often encouraged Ren and Shoto to play when Endeavour was at work and the other Todoroki children were at school. But she also knew, with a clarity that made her stomach feel hollow, that Endeavor's ambitions would always come first. That Shoto, and anyone close to him, would inevitably become casualties in his father's relentless pursuit of power.

"Will Shoto be finished soon?" Ren asked, her voice small and hesitant. "I want to play with him."

Rei's smile faltered, and she glanced back towards the house. Just then, a shout rang out - Endeavor's voice, sharp and angry. The woman and the little girl both flinched.

Rei turned back to Ren, her expression serious. "You like Shoto a lot, don't you, Ren?" she said, her voice low and urgent. "You're very sweet, Ren. It's very sad to see you grow up without a mother." Ren blinked, taken aback by the sudden change in Rei's tone. She didn't know how to respond, didn't know what to make of the woman's words. "Heroes try to save everyone, but sometimes they can't…" Rei's face softened, but the sadness in her eyes remained. Suddenly, the woman's demeanour changed, her back became straighter, her eyes wide and wild, she wanted to reach through the fence and grab hold of the naive, sweet little girl in front of her. "Stop waiting for him, Ren," she commanded. "These men, they chase after the title of 'hero'. But they only see their own ambitions. They don't see you waiting. They don't even care."

Ren's heart clenched, a sudden, sharp pain in her chest. She thought of all the times she had waited for Shoto, all the hours she had spent swinging on the rope, watching the fence, hoping for a glimpse of his red and white hair.

"Maybe Shoto is sweet to you," Rei continued, "maybe he makes snow for you in the summer, so you can play together." Her voice became low, her expression grew darker. "But he is still his father's son. I'm sure he's not so sweet to you sometimes. Burns you a little, if you don't play the game right?" Ren nodded, her eyes wide and solemn. She thought of the times when Shoto had lost his temper, when his quirk had flared out of control and singed her skin. She had never blamed him for it, had always understood that it was just a part of who he was.

But now, hearing Rei's words, she couldn't help but wonder. Was Shoto really so different from his father? Was the darkness that lurked within Endeavor, the cruelty and the ruthlessness, a part of Shoto too? Rei's expression was pained, as if the words she spoke caused her physical agony. "Go inside, Ren," she said, her voice firm and unyielding. "Do not disturb Shoto's training. Do not wait for him. Do what I could not do and leave him." Ren was just a little girl, she could not understand what was being asked of her, where it was coming from, why the world had to be this way.

But Ren grew to understand as she got older. The way Shoto began to walk straight past her as they passed one another on the way home from school, the way screamed at her and hid the burn on his face, the way he stopped opening his window when she threw stones in his direction. The day she left to study abroad, he hadn't even come to say goodbye. She had cried in the car, on the way to the airport and wondered if she would ever see him again. She stuck to what Rei had told her; don't wait, stay away.

Now at nineteen, as she left her father's car to enter UA's grounds for the Sport's Festival, Ren found that she was still listening to Shoto's mother. No matter how mischievous, outspoken or rebellious Ren was, she found that she could not break her silent promise to Rei. Perhaps it was because Rei's words was the closest thing to a mother's love Ren could remember, or perhaps, somewhere deep down and unnameable, Ren knew she had been right. You could not interfere with Shoto's training, his preparation, his ambitions and his dreams. So Ren had not contacted him since their meeting in the alleyway. She had put her part of the plan into action and sent him a message of confirmation but the boy she was finding it hard not to think about, had not responded, nor contacted her since.

The vibrant energy of the U.A. Sports Festival was palpable as Ren stepped out of her father's sleek black car. The warm Autumn breeze carried the scent of delicious food and the excited chatter of the crowd, enveloping her in a cocoon of sensory delights. The school grounds had been transformed into a carnival-like atmosphere, with colourful stalls, fluttering banners, and massive TV screens dotting the landscape.

Ren took a moment to absorb the scene, her grey eyes scanning the herds of people. She couldn't help but catch a glimpse of herself on one of the screens, her image larger than life. With a practiced smile, she raised a hand to wave at the camera, eliciting a few cheers from the gathered spectators.

For the occasion, Ren had chosen a simple yet elegant linen dress, its colour a striking combination of red and white. The fabric flowed around her, the skirt dancing just above her knees as she walked. It was a departure from her usual high-fashion attire, a deliberate choice to appear more approachable, more relatable to the general public. Her dark hair, usually styled and stiff, was left to cascade down her back in soft, natural waves. Her makeup, too, was minimal. It was a look that said, "I'm just like you," even though nothing could be further from the truth.

As Ren made her way through the crowd, she couldn't help but reflect on the irony of her situation. Her father's company had carefully crafted this image of her, the down-to-earth heiress, the relatable celebrity. They had seen her rebellious streak, her disdain for the trappings of wealth and fame, and they had used it to their advantage. It was a clever move, Ren had to admit. By allowing her to be herself, or at least a version of herself, they had made her all the more appealing to the masses. She was the billionaire's daughter who didn't act like one, the girl who could have anything but chose to be normal.

But as much as Ren resented being a pawn in her father's games, she couldn't deny the thrill of being in the spotlight. The attention, the adoration, the sense of power that came with being the centre of attention - it was intoxicating. Something the flirtatious young woman seemed to thrive on.

Lost in thought, Ren almost didn't notice when Mount Lady appeared on the nearest TV screen, her voice booming through the speakers. The pro hero was dressed in her signature purple and cream bodysuit, her long blonde hair flowing in the wind as she addressed the crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" she exclaimed, her voice bright and bubbly. "We are graced with the presence of two very special guests today. The reason you are seeing my beautiful face right now! Akira and Ren Ishikawa!"

Ren blinked, momentarily startled by the sudden attention. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she had almost forgotten where she was.

But as the camera zoomed in on her face, she could her the crowds already the stadiums, sitting on the edge of their seats and watching the screens eagerly, applaud her sudden appearance. Ren slipped easily into her public persona. She smiled and waved, her movements graceful and poised, as Mount Lady approached her with a microphone in hand.

"Ren, darling!" Mount Lady gushed, air-kissing Ren on both cheeks. "You look absolutely stunning. But then again, you always do."

Ren laughed, the sound musical and effortless. "I'm just happy to be here, to be a part of this incredible event," Ren thought for a moment before adding, "with thanks to my father and Endeavour's encouragement." For a moment, Endeavour's imposing figure flashed up on the screen.

Mount Lady nodded, her smile widening. "Tell me, Ren - what's it like being the daughter of a billionaire? It must be a dream come true!"

Ren's smile turned mischievous, her voice coated in well-practiced sincerity. "Oh, it's much like being the daughter of a millionaire," she said, "just, you know... better." The crowd laughed, charmed by Ren's quick wit and self-deprecating humour. Mount Lady, too, chuckled, shaking her head in amusement.

"You're the embodiment of charm, darling," she said, wiping an imaginary tear from her eye. "But let's talk about the real reason we're here. The U.A. Sports Festival! Who do you have your eye on to win it all this year?"

Ren paused, her expression turning thoughtful. In truth, there was only one person on her mind - Shoto Todoroki, the boy with the red and white hair and the eyes that she couldn't get out of her mind. For less than a second, Ren looked straight into the camera and debated saying it, knowing he was somewhere on the grounds, watching. But the thought of Rei's dark eyes, shimmering with tears beyond the fence, came into her head and she silenced the thoughts about the boy next door. So instead, she offered a cryptic smile and a shrug of her shoulders.

"You know, being abroad for so long, I haven't really kept up with the latest crop of heroes-in-training," her voice was light and airy. But Ren could not resist, the chance to make him blush, make him know she was thinking of him. "But, you know, I have a feeling that the weather might turn cold today." Mount Lady blinked, clearly confused by Ren's answer. She glanced at the camera, then back at Ren, her brow furrowed in puzzlement.

"Well, folks," she said, her voice taking on a teasing tone. "She has beauty, grace, and money to spare. But perhaps it's too much to ask for her to have intelligent insight as well!" The crowd laughed again, and Ren joined in, her smile never faltering.

So Ren played her part, smiling and waving and laughing at all the right moments. And when the interview was over and the camera had moved on to the next shiny object, she slipped away.

She found her father near the entrance to the stadium, his tall, imposing figure surrounded by a gaggle of reporters and photographers. He was dressed impeccably, as always, in a crisp black suit and a blood-red tie, his silver hair slicked back and his blue eyes sharp and calculating.

Ren approached him, her steps measured and even. She knew the drill. "Father," she said, her voice sweet and slightly breathless. "There you are. I've been looking all over for you."

Akira Ishikawa turned to face his daughter, his expression softening almost imperceptibly. He held out an arm, and Ren slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, allowing him to guide her towards the waiting cameras.

"After all I did to get little Shoto's father in the spotlight, you'd think you owed me something" he whispered to her as they walked into the stadium to take their seats. "Smile, darling," he murmured, "the world is watching." And so Ren smiled, her lips curving into a perfect, practiced arc. But all the while, her mind floated back to him. How had his training for the festival been?What bruises was he still hiding? Who was with him to heal his wounds? That lonely boy where she had once found a home?

The waiting room buzzed with nervous energy as the U.A. students prepared for the Sports Festival. The air was thick with anticipation, the walls seeming to vibrate with the muffled roar of the crowd outside. The room itself was sparse, with plain white walls and a few scattered chairs, but the students had managed to make it their own, filling the space with chatter and laughter.

Shoto sat in the corner, his face a mask of calm concentration. He was dressed in his sports uniform, the blue and white fabric clinging to his lean, muscular frame. His red and white hair was slightly damp with sweat, a testament to the intense training he had undergone in preparation for this day.

Around him, his classmates were engaged in various states of pre-game rituals. Some stretched and warmed up, their faces set in determined grimaces. Others talked and joked, trying to dispel the tension with humour and camaraderie.

But Shoto's attention was caught by the television screen mounted on the wall, where the image of Ren flashed on screen. Ren's interview with Mount Lady was playing. He watched as she smiled and laughed, her red and white dress fluttering in the breeze. She perfectly at home in front of the cameras, he had never been able to mimic her carefree attitude to attention as effortlessly as she did.

Shoto felt a strange flutter in his chest as he watched her, a mix of quiet admiration and gratitude. He knew that she had upheld her end of their bargain, that she had used her influence to secure Endeavor a spot in the limelight. It was a small thing, perhaps, but to Shoto, it meant everything.

As the interview drew to a close, Ren looked directly into the camera, her gaze seeming to pierce through the screen to lock onto Shoto's eyes. "I have a feeling," she said, her voice low and mysterious, "that the weather will turn cold today."

Shoto felt a jolt go through him, a shiver that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. It was as if Ren was speaking directly to him, sending him a secret message that only he could decipher. But he quickly schooled his features, not wanting to give anything away to his classmates. He knew that they were watching him, that they had all taken in what Ren had said with surprise. Hopefully none of them had noticed the way his eyes had widened.

"Hey, Todoroki," Uraraka said, her voice puzzled. "It sounds like she's talking about you." Shoto ignored her, keeping his face as expressionless as he could. But the other students had noticed it too.

"She's even wearing red and white," Kirishima muttered, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Just like your hair."

Shoto felt a flicker of irritation, a spark of annoyance at Ren's inability to keep things simple. Since they were children it was as though her sole mission was to irritate him. She always said she hated how his face gave nothing away, so she would push him and poke him, seeking retribution, to watch his calm features reveal something beneath.

He shook the image of her from his mind and focused inwards. He knew that this was his chance to prove himself, to show the world what he was truly capable of and not as his father's son, but as someone who was more than just a product of his father's quirk and his mother's genes. And so, with a a mind focused solely on the task at hand, Shoto stepped out into the arena, ready to seize his destiny and claim his place in the world.