Good Little Girl

What…the fuck?

Ren stood, rooted to the spot. Was she breathing? Was she even there? Had she heard correctly? Shoto's parting words echoed in her mind. He had sent a shiver down her spine, all over her, like wildfire, waking her up. How had she not melted, right there and then on the polished marble floor? Had she finally broken through the carefully constructed walls of the immovable, unaffected, stoic Shoto Todoroki? No... surely it wouldn't be that easy.

As the initial shock began to fade, Ren found herself fighting back a smile. She watched Shoto disappear into the sea of guests, his broad shoulders and distinctive red and white hair making him stand out even in this crowd of the city's elite. If anyone else had overheard his words, they might have sounded like a deliberate attempt at flirtation. But Ren knew better. In Shoto's mind, he had simply stated a fact – nothing more, nothing less. She fought a smirk forming on her lips; it was a fact that could get them both in a lot of trouble. A fact that pushed her a little further to the edge of losing her mind, whenever he was around her.

Maybe Ren hadn't broken him, but he was certainly bending a little.

As the evening wore on, the initial glamour of the gala began to fade for Ren. The opulent ballroom, once a dazzling display of wealth and prestige, now seemed to lose its lustre. The crystal chandeliers overhead cast a harsh light, revealing the cracks in the carefully crafted facades of the attendees. Suddenly, everyone's smiles appeared false, their compliments nothing more than thinly veiled envy. The designer dresses that had earlier caught her eye now seemed gaudy and ostentatious. It all made Ren want to roll her eyes but she didn't, she stood and smiled like an obedient daughter.

The only saving grace in this kaleidoscope of glitter and artificial conversation were the glances Ren and Shoto managed to steal at one another. She could feel the weight of his gaze on her back as she moved through the crowd, sending shivers down her spine. Occasionally, they would pass each other, their hands brushing ever so slightly, the brief contact electric, almost torturous, in the heat and the chaos of what was happening between them.

After enduring a particularly gruelling conversation with her father's CFO, a balding man whose shark-like smile did little to hide his predatory ambitions, Ren had had enough. She downed her champagne in one swift motion, the bubbles burning her throat, and placed the empty flute on a nearby table. It was time to engage in her usual strategy at these parties - escape.

Her stormy grey eyes scanned the room, landing on a set of glass doors at the far end of the ballroom that led to an empty balcony. Freedom. As she made her way towards her sanctuary, Ren passed by Shoto, who was engaged in conversation with a few sidekicks from his agency. Their eyes met briefly as one of the sidekicks asked, "So, Shoto, what are you doing after this?"

In that fleeting moment of eye contact, the answer was obvious. The small sparkle in Ren's grey eyes, the soft curve of her lips as she smirked ever so slightly, told Shoto exactly what he would be doing later. He had to clear his throat to ground himself as the anticipation of the inevitable sent a shiver down his spine. Ren was nothing but chaos, she revelled in the idea of a secret shared in a room full of people who saw everything and understood nothing. She just loved to get under his skin, watch him trip up as lust took over his brain. But she kept her distance this evening; Ren only communicated with the occasional glance, the gentle bite of her lips as he tried desperately not to look at her….because he was working. This was hero territory, not somewhere for her to interfere.

Ren slipped out onto the balcony, closing the glass doors behind her and effectively muffling the sounds of the party. The cool December air nipped at her skin, not that she minded anymore- the cold was just a reminder of the boy she was aching for. She moved to the balustrade, her hands resting on the cold stone as she looked out over the hotel gardens. The scene before her was beautiful. A large fountain dominated the centre of the garden, its waters dancing and sparkling in the moonlight. The gentle tinkling of the water seemed to harmonise with the muted strains of the string quartet playing inside, creating a surreal, almost magical atmosphere. The full moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the manicured lawns and carefully pruned topiaries.

As she stood there, bathed in moonlight, Ren found her mind wandering to her childhood. She had grown up attending these fake, false parties, learning to navigate the treacherous waters of high society from a young age. The realisation of how much she hated this part of her life hit her anew, a familiar dagger in her chest. To these people, Ren often felt like she was made of glass - beautiful to look at, worth talking about like a piece of art, but ultimately transparent. If you angled the light just right, she could disappear entirely, becoming invisible despite being the centre of attention. She wondered if her father cared if she existed or not. Nothing in this part of her life felt solid or real, nothing worth holding onto.

Except for him.

Shoto was like a breath of fresh, cool air, something that could fill her up, life-saving and beautiful. Unbidden, her mind conjured an image of unbuttoning his crisp white shirt, running her fingertips along the defined muscles of his abdomen. She longed to feel something solid, something real, something worth holding onto in this world of smoke and mirrors.

When they were younger, she and Shoto had created a world for themselves by the fence, in the old oak tree that straddled their properties. Now, it felt like they were doing the same thing all over again, carving out a space just for the two of them, a refuge from the expectations and pressures that threatened to suffocate them both.

She sighed, the realisation of how quickly, how deeply she was falling for him was the best and most terrifying thing she had ever experienced. But along with the thrill came a stab of guilt. In this world of false, untrue things, Ren was just as fake as the rest of them. The secret of her quirk weighed heavily on her, a constant reminder of what a hypocrite she was.

The sound of the balcony doors opening and closing jolted Ren from her thoughts. She turned, her heart rate quickening as she saw Shoto step out onto the balcony. She smiled and had to stop herself laughing- he looked devastatingly handsome in his dark suit, the white shirt a stark contrast to the red half of his hair. His dark tie was ever so slightly loosened, a small concession to comfort. How was it fair to her, to look like that?

But Ren had no idea that she had the same effect on him. The way her dress cut off below her shoulders, you could run your lips along her collarbone. The way the intricate feathers of her peacock brooch fanned out over her right shoulder, the delicate metalwork catching the moonlight with every slight movement; its shimmer calling out to him. The gold earrings she wore glittered in the warm glow of the candles that lined the balcony, their light dancing in her stormy grey eyes. She looked a little breakable, more fuckable than he remembered. How is that fair?

With a breath, Shoto had to force himself to count the steps between them, to maintain the illusion for any prying eyes that they weren't dying to be all over each other. He went to lean against the balustrade too, a few feet away from her. He turned too, to face the party through the glass doors. Their hands rested on the stone balustrade, their fingertips bare inches from each other. They stood there for a moment, the air between them charged, almost suffocating.

Through the tempered glass doors, Ren caught sight of her father. Akira Ishikawa's image was slightly distorted, but his commanding presence was unmistakable as he entertained a group of gala guests. Ren lifted her chin in his direction, and Shoto followed her gaze.

"Sometimes I can fool myself into thinking it's all real," Ren said, her voice strained, teetering on the edge of breaking. Shoto noticed immediately, his heterochromatic eyes studying her face with concern, the clues of distress clear to even him. "That he really cares, when he says he's proud of me or he missed me while I was gone," she continued, her grey eyes fixed on the distorted image of her father. "Maybe we'll go home after this and watch a movie or... play board games?" Her voice lifted at the end, turning the statement into a question. Shoto's brow furrowed slightly, picking up on the uncertainty in her tone. Ren turned to him, a sad smile playing on her lips. "What do normal families do to spend time together?"

Shoto's face went completely blank, if slightly irritated. He shot her a look that clearly said, "How the hell would I know?" The irony of the situation wasn't lost on either of them, and Ren let out a humourless laugh.

"Right," she said, acknowledging her mistake in assuming Shoto had any more experience with normal family life than she did.

The fountain in the garden below continued its gentle serenade, the trickling water offering respite to the muffled sounds of the party inside. Ren's hair stirred slightly in the breeze, a few strands catching on her gold earrings.

"How are things going at the agency?" she asked, her tone sincere as she turned her attention back to Shoto.

He paused for a moment, considering his response. "I'm learning a lot," he began, his deep voice carrying on the breeze to her. "The practical experience is invaluable, and I'm gaining a better understanding of how pro hero agencies operate." He hesitated before adding, "And then sometimes I think about burning the whole place down."

A genuine smile spread across Ren's face, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "That insufferable, huh?"

Shoto's jaw tightened, he tugged on the knot of his tie as though the conversation itself were constricting his breathing. "Working with my old man is... challenging," he admitted. "His teaching methods are harsh, and he often prioritises results over ethics. There's constant pressure to live up to his expectations, to be the 'perfect' hero he's always wanted me to be."

Ren nodded, understanding the weight of his words. "At least you're learning more about your left side," she said rationally, always trying to find the silver lining. Her eyes softened as she looked at him, taking in the strong line of his jaw, the slight furrow between his brows. "You're a good hero, Shoto."

Their eyes met, and for a moment, they forgot where they were. In the world they built together there was no hero or heiress, no gala, no family legacy to uphold. Wouldn't it just be so easy to close the distance between them and give in to this feeling? But the risk was too great, and they quickly looked away, their cheeks flushed with more than just the cold. A moment of silence dissipated the want.

"Well...?" Ren prompted, a proud smile playing on her lips as she spied him slyly from beneath her eyelashes.

Shoto's brow furrowed in confusion. "Well, what?"

"Are you seriously not going to say anything?" Ren asked, a hint of hurt creeping into her voice.

"Say anything about what?"

Ren looked at him, her grey eyes wide with disbelief. "About how exceptionally well-behaved I've been?"

Shoto couldn't help but laugh, the sound low and warm. "Have you been?"

Ren's mouth fell open in mock offence, her hand flying to her chest dramatically. "Yes! I barely rolled my eyes when my father said I would be joining the great Ishikawa Industries, didn't say anything when the police commissioner totally overlooked the housing displacement his 'clean up the streets' initiative caused, barely looked at you all night!" Shoto smiled, his tone teasing:

"It must have been very difficult for you-"

"It's fucking killing me, Sho," Ren interrupted, her voice dropping to a whisper.

They looked at each other, matching smiles on their faces. Shoto had to admit, if only to himself, that Ren had indeed been remarkably well-behaved. She had endured her father's machinations, the falseness of their society, and the torture of being so close to him without being able to touch. For someone so naturally drawn to trouble and chaos, she had shown impressive restraint.

"Okay," Shoto said finally, his mismatched eyes narrowing on her. "You can say one thing to me."

"What?"

"Say one thing you've been wanting to say all night... to me, here, where no one else can hear you."

Ren's eyes lit up at the proposition, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "One thing?"

"Yes."

"Something that could get us into a lot of trouble?"

"Yes."

"And you're not allowed to get mad? Even though you're technically working and we're technically in public?"

"Yes." Shoto squared his shoulders and stood in front of her, waiting for whatever reckless thing she might say.

Ren looked around excitedly, her mind racing with possibilities. She spied the partygoers in the ballroom and rolled her eyes; it was a chance to put everyone in their place, to speak the truths they were all hiding from. A chance to be honest, harsh, say something she'd been screaming inside her head all evening.

But as her eyes met Shoto's, she was taken aback by the warmth in his gaze, the steadiness of his smile. She realised how happy he was to be here, with her, in this little world they had created together. She took in his handsome face, the scar that marked his left side, the way his red and white hair fell across his forehead. That ache slowly returned to her, the unfulfilled desire to reach out and touch him was hurting her. Ren's gaze softened, as she realised there was only one thing she ever wanted to say to Shoto. She looked up at him, her grey eyes shining in the moonlight, her soft lips parted gently as she said: "Take me home and fuck me."

The stillness of the night was shattered by a sudden, sharp crackling sound. Ren's eyes widened as she watched ice erupt from the floor around Shoto's right foot, spreading rapidly across the balcony. The crystalline formation raced towards the glass doors, covering them in a thick, opaque layer of frost within seconds. The moonlight caught on the icy surface, creating a dazzling display of light.

Ren's heart skipped a beat, immediately regretting her bold words. She braced herself for Shoto's anger, her body tensing as she prepared to be scolded. The velvet of her black dress suddenly felt too tight, constricting around her chest as she held her breath.

To her surprise, however, Shoto stepped forward and took her face in his hands, his touch both cooling and heating her blood. His mismatched eyes into her own with one last look of resistance before he gave in. Before she could react, he pressed his lips to hers, her bottom lip was already lowering to let him a little further into her mouth.

All the pent-up longing from the evening poured into that single moment of connection. Ren's eyes went wide with shock, her brain struggling to process what was happening. But as the initial surprise faded, she melted into the kiss, her eyes fluttering closed. Her hands found their way to Shoto's chest, feeling the solid warmth of him beneath his suit jacket. It was everything she had been longing for all evening - something real, something to run away to.

As they kissed, Ren realised why Shoto had frozen the glass doors. He had created a private sanctuary for them, hidden from the prying eyes of the gala guests inside.

After what felt like not nearly long enough, Shoto pulled away, resting his forehead against hers. Their sharp breaths, small gasps of want, mingled in the cool night air, creating small puffs of vapour between them.

"You're not mad?" Ren whispered, her voice slightly breathless.

Shoto's brow furrowed slightly, his eyes still closed. "Yes, of course I am," he murmured. "How could you say something so reckless?"

Before Ren could answer, protest her innocence, Shoto moved his head back, his eyes opening to take in her face. The soft glow of the moonlight accentuated her features, casting shadows that emphasised the curve of her cheekbones and the fullness of her lips. Her grey eyes sparkled with a mix of desire and mischief that never failed to unravel him.

"But why do I give in?" he asked, seemingly more to himself than to her. His voice was low, rough with emotion. "When you're in the same room as me, I can't see anything else. If my hands aren't on you, something inside of me is hurting for you, waiting for you. It's like I can't function normally if you're not around me."

Ren felt herself begin to melt at his words, things any girl would kill to hear from the boy she was mad about... But then she remembered who she was talking to - Shoto Todoroki, not exactly a poet. Her brow furrowed and she lifted her chin a little, debating if she should ask the question.

"You have no idea that what you're saying is incredibly romantic, do you?" she asked, a hint of amusement creeping into her voice.

Shoto dropped his hands from her face and took a step back, looking at her as though she were mad, or hadn't listened to him at all. "Romantic?" he repeated, his tone incredulous. "Ren, you are going to ruin my life."

Ren wasn't sure whether to laugh or feel offended. After a moment's consideration, she settled on offence, her lower lip jutting out in a pout. "Hey!" She cried as loud as she dared. "You can quit me any time!" she retorted, her voice sharper than she'd intended.

But as Shoto looked at her, the gold peacock brooch on her dress catching the moonlight and casting intricate shadows across her collarbone, he knew that quitting Ren sounded far more difficult than he'd ever imagined. Without a word, he moved forward and kissed her again, this time with a gentleness that made Ren's knees weak.

"Don't say that again," he murmured against her lips.

Suddenly, Ren stiffened in his arms. "Someone is coming," she whispered urgently.

Shoto pulled back, his eyes darting towards the frosted glass doors. "Go to your car," he instructed as Ren nodded, reluctantly stepping away from him. Their fingers lingered on each other for just a moment, not wanting to let go but knowing they had to.

As if on cue, a large silhouette appeared behind the frosted glass. The ice began to melt rapidly as a hand pressed against it from the other side. Within seconds, the doors swung open, revealing the imposing figure of Endeavor. Unlike his usual hero costume, Endeavor was dressed in a tailored suit that did little to diminish his intimidating presence. His fiery beard and hair were neatly groomed, giving him an air of refined power. His eyes, sharp and calculating, took in the scene before him.

"Shoto," Endeavor's deep voice rumbled, "what are you doing here? Why did you...?" He gestured towards the remnants of ice on the ground, his gaze shifting between his son and Ren. His eyes narrowed as he noticed the slight flush on Ren's cheeks.

"Oh, Ren... what are you doing-?" Endeavor began, but Ren cut him off.

"Leaving," she said quickly, her voice steady despite the nervous flutter in her stomach. She turned to Shoto, her expression giving nothing away. "It was good to see you, Todoroki."

"You too," Shoto replied, his face an impassive mask. The two teenagers nodded at each other, the gesture deceptively casual. As Ren walked past Endeavor, they exchanged brief nods, the pro hero muttering a gruff "goodnight" as she passed.

Once Ren had disappeared back into the ballroom, Endeavor turned his full attention to his son. He squared his broad shoulders, as if preparing for a fight. Instinctively, Shoto shifted his stance, one foot sliding forward, subconsciously preparing for an attack.

"I trust you know what you're doing, Shoto," Endeavor said, his tone a mixture of warning and curiosity.

"About?" Endeavor shifted uncomfortably, clearly unprepared for this conversation. He had always assumed Shoto was solely focused on becoming a hero, not on pursuing romantic entanglements. "I take it she knows what your priorities are?"

"What?" Shoto's eyes narrowed, a hint of defiance creeping into his tone.

"She knows she's not one of them, right?"

Something heavy dropped in Shoto's stomach at his father's words. There was a moment of tense silence, broken only by the distant sounds of the gala and the gentle splashing of the fountain in the garden below.

"You know she's not one of them, right?" Endeavor repeated, his eyes boring into his son.

Shoto remained silent, his jaw clenching as he fought to keep his emotions in check.

"Shoto," Endeavor continued, his voice softening slightly, "she's an important asset, but don't be confused here. The Ishikawa girl can be useful to us, to our family's standing, but you can't let yourself get distracted. Your goal is to become the number one hero, to surpass All Might. Everything else is secondary."

"Who are you to tell me what my priorities are?" Shoto snapped, his cool facade cracking.

Endeavor's eyes widened in surprise at his son's outburst. "I am your father," he said, as if that meant anything.

Shoto let out a humourless laugh, the sound sharp and bitter in the night air. "I'm leaving," he said, moving towards the glass doors.

As he passed his father, Endeavor reached out, his large hand closing around Shoto's arm. "Think about what I said, Shoto," he urged. "Don't throw away everything we've worked for because of a pretty face and a clever tongue."

Shoto yanked his arm free, his eyes flashing with anger. "You don't know her," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "And you certainly don't know me."

Oh my God, I PROMISE we will leave the gala in the next chapter- I just felt like this was long enough.

Ren's fun, isn't she?

Also, I am fully aware that we left the plot back in chapter 17…we will get back to that…soon. Let's just appreciate the romance and the feels and the character development in this chapter, eh?

Thanks!

Feedback appreciated!