He Came to Play

In the weeks since starting at U.A., Shoto had begun to find his footing, settling into the rhythms and routines of life at the prestigious hero academy. The classes were challenging, the training intense, but there was a sense of purpose and camaraderie that he had never experienced before, a feeling of being part of something bigger than himself. He relished the distance from his home life, the way the walls of U.A. seemed to provide a buffer between him and the constant pressure and expectations of his father. Here, he was free to be himself, to explore his own strengths and weaknesses without the weight of the Todoroki legacy bearing down on him. The other students in Class 1-A were a diverse and energetic bunch, each with their own unique quirks and personalities. Shoto found himself drawn to the quiet determination of Midoriya, the unwavering loyalty of Iida, and the fierce competitiveness of Bakugo. He knew that he could come across as cold and aloof, his reserved nature and powerful quirk setting him apart from his peers. But as the days turned into weeks, he began to sense a growing respect and admiration from his classmates, a recognition of his skill and dedication.

But even as he settled into the rhythm of life at U.A., Shoto couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had been growing in the pit of his stomach. Yesterday, there had been a security breach, where a mob of reporters had somehow managed to infiltrate the school grounds in pursuit of All Might. It had set the whole campus on edge.

The image of Ren flashed in his mind, the mysterious aura around her fading away to that mischievous, cunning little girl he had always known she was. He knew, from the moment he let slip the information about All Might's teaching position, that something had sparked in her eyes. He had seen the calculation, the subtle shift in her demeanour that told him she was already planning something. Her lips had parted softly, her hair had fallen over her shoulders as she drew him in with her eyes and asked him:

"All Might is teaching?" The pencil in is hand snapped in two. How could he have been so naive? This restless, hungry feeling of intrigue and attraction had been clouding his mind and he was sick of it.

Almost without thinking, he pulled out his phone and fired off a quick text to Ren, the first message he had ever sent her:

"The press broke into UA yesterday."

Her response came almost immediately: "They did? Bizarre."

Shoto frowned in anger, his fingers hovering over the screen as he debated whether to press further.

He was growing to realise that the mischievous, younger Ren had turned into a flirtatious and impulsive young woman. And he had to shake the feeling of want out of him as he realised: it made her a very good liar, a manipulator, just another person who could control him. Before he could type out a reply, the classroom door slid open, and Aizawa-sensei slouched in, his sleeping bag tucked under one arm, his eyes heavy with exhaustion.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of lessons and training exercises, the incident with the press slowly fading out of classroom conversation. It wasn't until he arrived home that evening, his body aching from the rigours of heroics training, that the issue came crashing back to the forefront.

"Shoto." His father's voice, deep and commanding, echoed through the cavernous halls of the Todoroki home. Shoto's eyes narrowed down the corridor. He knew, just from the sound of his voice, where his father was standing in the house. The dreaded instruction followed: "come to the training room. We need to talk."

With a familiar sense of dread settling over him, the hero-in-training made his way to the stark, unforgiving space where so many of his worst memories had been forged.

Endeavor was waiting for him, his massive frame silhouetted against the harsh fluorescent lights, his face set in a scowl. With Endeavour's body aflame, his noticed his son quickly check the state of the fire around his father's figure. It was often a good indication of Endeavour's mood. "How's school going?" Endeavor asked, his tone gruff. "Making any progress in your training?"

Shoto remained silent, his gaze fixed on a point just over his father's shoulder. He knew this routine, knew the small talk was just a prelude to the inevitable demands and criticisms. But to his surprise, Endeavor's next words had nothing to do with Shoto's own performance.

"And what about the Ishikawa girl? How are things progressing with her?" Was Ren really so important?

The boy rolled his eyes; he was beginning to grow bored of this conversation. Growing bored of the only way his father knew how to operate - manipulate and dominate, crush anyone who stood in his way. But beneath Shoto's frown, a small spark of realisation formed; if he could get closer to Ren, he could use her influence to gain some leverage over his father. He could play her at her own game.

"It's fine," he said calmly. "I'm handling it."

But Endeavor wasn't satisfied. He took a step forward, his massive frame looming over Shoto like a thundercloud. "It's time to step up your training," his eyes flashed with a dangerous light.

"What are you talking about?" Finally, Shoto looked at his father, small sparks of ice and fire coming into life around his frame. "I'm training at UA now, I don't need to train with you." But beneath the anger, inside Shoto's fists, deep down in his blood, was the fearful little boy he used to be.

"I got you into that school," Endeavour whispered dangerously, "I can take you out." Shoto let out a breath of disbelief. "Fall in line, Shoto. Get to Ren."

Before Shoto had a moment to think, however, Endeavor was flying towards him.

"Shoto!" he roared, his voice echoing off the training room walls. "Training is reinstated!"

And with that, the two of them fell into a familiar rhythm, a dance of violence and pain that had defined so much of Shoto's young life. As Shoto dodged and blocked his father's relentless attacks, his mind was racing with the new possibilities that Ren presented. He had always seen her as a bit of a wildcard, a chaotic element in the carefully controlled world of heroes and villains. But now, he was starting to realise that she was a player in her own right, a master manipulator who knew how to use her charm and influence to get what she wanted.

As Endeavor's flames licked at his skin, Shoto's resolve hardened. He had been a pawn for too long, a helpless child at the mercy of his father's whims. It was time to take control.

As he launched himself at his father, his quirk flaring to life in a dazzling display of ice and fire, Shoto felt a grim smile tug at his lips. It was his turn to throw a stone.

September moved into Octobera and Ren was happy to find herself more at home in the city again. She stepped out of her favourite gym, her body pleasantly sore from her workout. She was dressed in sleek, black athletic leggings and a loose, off-the-shoulder top, her dark hair pulled back in a high ponytail. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead, a testament to the intensity of her training. The crowd moved around her without taking notice of her, she was glad that sometimes cities can lonely, faceless places.

As she paused to take a sip from her water bottle, her eyes were drawn to the massive television screen mounted on the side of a nearby building. It was tuned to a news channel, the anchor's face set in a grim expression as she delivered the latest. Ren removed her headphones so she could hear the report.

"...a group of villains managed to infiltrate the U.S.J. training facility, where students from U.A. High's Class 1-A were engaged in rescue simulations. The attack appears to have been targeting All Might, who was present at the facility as a teacher. While the students and faculty were able to fend off the villains, there are concerns about the school's security protocols, especially in light of the recent press break-in..."

Ren's heart stopped, her water bottle slipping from her suddenly numb fingers. There, on the screen, for a split second, was a picture of Shoto, his mismatched eyes staring out at her in the nighttime, his red and white hair swaying in the breeze. And then he was gone. The world went on.

A small wave of guilt came over her. If she hadn't shared the news of All Might's teaching position with her father, would this have happened? Would Shoto and his classmates have been put in harm's way? Why did he have to be a fucking hero?

In one of those rare coincidences life throws at you, Ren felt her phone buzz as that very boy sent her his location.

The alleyway was narrow and damp, the air heavy with the smell of rain and the distant hum of city traffic. Ren walked cautiously, her footsteps echoing off the grimy walls as she made her way deeper into the shadows. She was dressed inconspicuously, her dark hair tucked under a plain black cap, her frame hidden beneath a nondescript hoodie and jeans. But even in the dim light, there was no mistaking the wary tension in her shoulders, the calculating glint in her eyes.

She had received Shoto's message an hour ago, a terse command to meet him at this location. No explanation, no context. Just a set of coordinates and a time. It was so like the child she remembered- cryptic and demanding.

But she had come, of course. Despite her better judgment, despite the nagging voice in the back of her head that warned her to stay away, to keep her distance from the boy who had always seemed to see right through her. She couldn't help herself. There had always been something about Shoto Todoroki that drew her in, like a moth to an icy flame.

As she rounded the corner, she saw him. He was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, his face hidden beneath the shadows of a dark hood. But even from a distance, she could feel the coiled tension radiating off of him, the barely contained anger simmering just beneath the surface.

"Ren." His voice was low and rough, a growl that sent shivers down her spine.

She stopped a few feet away from him, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew what this was about, knew the reason for his sudden summons. But she couldn't let him see her fear, couldn't let him know how much his presence unnerved her.

"Shoto," she said, her tone dripping with her usual go-to tactic of flirtation. "Figured me out so easily?"

He pushed off the wall, taking a step towards her. His hood fell back, revealing his red and white hair, his mismatched eyes boring into hers with an intensely.

"You're still the same poorly behaved child you always were," he said, his voice dripping with disdain. "Of course I figured you out."

Ren felt a flare of anger at his words, at the way he seemed to dismiss her so easily. But beneath the anger was a thrill of excitement, a twisted sort of pleasure at the way he looked at her, like she was a puzzle he was determined to solve. It was as though she had been waiting months to meet the man he had really become.

"What's going to make us even?" she asked.

Shoto's eyes narrowed. "My father is driven by his ego," he said, his words clipped and precise. "By his desire to be the number one hero. He is convinced the media plays a big role in pushing that agenda-"

"He wouldn't be half wrong," Ren interjected, a sly smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

Shoto ignored her, pressing on as if she hadn't spoken. "I'm not like you, Ren," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I will come out straight and tell you what I am asking of you. Your father is providing the national and international media coverage of the Sports Festival at U.A. this year."

"Correct."

"Convince him to put a spotlight on my old man," Shoto said, his words a command, not a request. "Running up to the event, during and after. Give me a fucking break from bearing the weight of that psychopath's ego."

Ren's eyebrows shot up, surprise flickering across her face before she could school her features back into a mask of nonchalance. "Eyes will be on you if that happens," she warned him but Shoto just shrugged.

"So be it," he said, his eyes boring into hers. "The eyes of the press puts no pressure on me. It won't affect my performance." Ren had to smile at the well placed arrogance, before she considered him for a moment, her mind racing with the implications of his request. On the one hand, it was a chance to regain some control, to use her influence to manipulate the situation to her advantage. But on the other hand, it was a risk, a gamble that could easily backfire and leave them both exposed.

"Fine," she said at last, her voice barely above a whisper. "Then we're square?"

As if she were nothing, a spec of dust that landed on his shoulder, Shoto shrugged. "I'll see how I feel," he said, earning a small smile of impressed intrigue from Ren. "You may still be useful."

With that, he turned on his heel and began to walk away, his dark hood casting his face in shadow once more. Ren watched him go, her heart pounding in her chest, her mind reeling with the sudden shift in their dynamic.

"You're pretty cruel, you know that?" she called after him, her voice echoing off the damp walls of the alleyway.

Shoto paused, turning back to look at her over his shoulder. "I won't apologize for playing the game that other people started."

Ren felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth, a strange mix of admiration and frustration welling up inside her. "I didn't say I don't like it."

The two took each other in for a second, their eyes scanning one another slowly. Did he feel it too? This adrenaline, this excitement? The unidentifiable tension between them in this silent war?Shoto just stared at her, his eyes unreadable in the dim light of the alleyway. Then, without another word, he turned and walked away, his footsteps fading into the distance until Ren was left alone once more.

So Shoto had come to play?