Utopia

Ren and Shoto jumped apart as if burned, their eyes wide with shock and fear. Shoto instinctively stepped in front of Ren, his body tense and coiled like a spring, ready to defend her from the childhood monsters they had fought before. Ren turned her back to the voice, her shoulders hunched and her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

Endeavor stood at the end of the hallway, his massive frame filling the space like a looming threat. His hero costume, a garish mix of red, yellow, and blue, seemed to pulse with an angry, malevolent energy. His face was twisted in a scowl, his eyes narrowed to slits.

The hallway was a stark contrast to the vibrant energy of the stadium outside. The white walls were bathed in the harsh glow of fluorescent lights, casting sharp shadows across the tiled floor. The air was heavy with the scent of sweat and anticipation, the muffled roar of the crowd a constant reminder of the high stakes at play.

For a moment, Endeavor simply stared at the two teenagers, his gaze flicking between them with a mix of surprise and suspicion. Shoto had never shown any interest in girls before, his focus solely on becoming a hero. Endeavor had assumed that his son's single-minded determination would keep him from such distractions, that he would remain pure and untainted by such frivolous temptations.

"What are you doing here?" He asked his father callously. Endeavor chuckled, the sound harsh and grating in the quiet of the hallway.

"I asked first, son," he said, his eyes flicking to Ren's back.

The girl could feel Endeavor's gaze boring into her back, the weight of his disapproval and disdain and mocking like a physical force. She wanted to run, to hide, to escape the suffocating presence of the man who had caused so much pain and suffering to the boy she used to know. But Ren Ishikawa does not run, no Ishikawa ever does. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and turned to face Endeavor head-on.

The hero's eyes widened as he took in her face, his mouth falling open a little in shock. He recognised her instantly, the girl who had been a constant presence in his son's life since childhood. The girl who had always seemed to bring out a softer, more vulnerable side of Shoto, a side that Endeavor had sought to stamp out and destroy.

Ren Ishikawa had grown up to be everything she had been trained to be. The way her hair fell across her face, her light eyes full of moonlight and stardust, made her look delicate and breakable. But there was a hardness to her, a steely resolve that Endeavor had never seen before. She met his gaze without flinching, her chin lifted in a silent challenge.

"Ren," Endeavor said, his voice low. "It's been a long time."

Ren said nothing, her lips pressed together in a thin, tight line. She could feel Shoto's tension in front of her, could sense the way his body was ready to strike at the slightest provocation. The pro hero's smile widened, his eyes glinting with a cruel, mocking light.

As he took in the sight of Shoto standing protectively in front of Ren, a memory flickered in Endeavor's mind. It was a scene from years ago, when Shoto and Ren were just children. Shoto, small and fragile, had stepped in front of Ren, shielding her from his father's wrath. Even then, he had been willing to put himself in harm's way to protect her. The memory was gone as quickly as it came.

"What's the matter, Ren?" he asked, his voice dripping with false concern. "Still scared of me, after all these years?"

Ren's eyes flashed, a spark of anger igniting in their grey depths.

"I've never been scared of you," she said confidently, "I've just never liked you." Her words were met with silence before Endeavour threw his head back and laughed.

"You've inherited your father's charm, I see." The girl had to prevent a grimace from forming on her face at the idea of being compared to her father, even as a throwaway comment. Her expression remained unreadable. She had spent years perfecting her mask, the calm, composed façade that hid the turmoil and pain that raged beneath the surface.

Glancing over his shoulder at Ren, Shoto let his eyes search her face for any sign of distress or fear. But, as usual, he found none. "Ren," he said, his voice sounding hollow. "Leave." He didn't need to say much else; Ren knew when to listen to him, so she nodded and walked away, her red and white dress swishing around her legs. With one final look at Shoto, she disappeared around the corner. Over his shoulder, Shoto spied her leaving before turning back to his father, his expression hardening into one of grim determination.

"Shoto," Endeavor said in a menacing tone. "I am pleased to see you taking my advice to heart. Getting close to the Ishikawa girl was a smart move, one that will serve you well in the future." Shoto flinched with physical repulsion, his teenage instincts kicking in as his stomach churned, bile rising in his throat at his father's words. The idea that Endeavor could approve of any kind of relationship with Ren made him want to get as far away from her as possible.

"I'm not doing anything for you," Shoto snapped. His father's face twisted, his flames flaring higher and hotter with each passing second.

"I have given you everything, molded you into the perfect weapon to surpass All Might. And this is how you repay me? By defying me at every turn and getting distracted by-?"

"I am not your weapon," Shoto wouldn't let his father finish the thought out loud. Endeavor's face twisted into an ugly snarl, his flames flaring so high and hot that Shoto could feel the heat searing his skin.

"Stop this teenage rebellion," he roared, his voice echoing through the hallway like a thunderclap. "You will win this festival, and you will do it using your left side!" Shoto's fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles turning white with the force of his grip. Shoto began to walk towards his father, his footsteps echoing off the tiled floor. As he passed him, his eyes flashed, a spark of defiance igniting in their mismatched depths.

"Oh yeah?" Shoto whispered, his voice dangerous. "Watch me."

***

The roar of the crowd was deafening as Ren made her way back to her seat. The stadium was a sea of colour and motion, with banners waving and spectators cheering as the individual matches of the U.A. Sports Festival unfolded below. The air was thick with anticipation and excitement, the energy of the crowd palpable in every breath. But Ren felt strangely detached from it all, as if she were watching the events unfold through a haze of numbness and distraction.

As she slipped into her seat beside her father, her movements remained graceful and fluid despite the turmoil raging inside her. She could feel her father's sharp blue eyes on her, assessing and calculating, but she kept her gaze fixed on the arena, her expression giving nothing away as she thought about what had just unfolded. When Shoto had glanced back at her, she could still see the pain and anger in his eyes, almost as though that lost little boy was standing in font of her. She could hear the crack as her heart broke to see him so torn, so conflicted between the boy he had been and the man he wanted to become.

As the matches began, Ren found herself watching with a sense of disinterest, her gaze unfocused and distant. The clashing of quirks and the shouts of the combatants seemed muffled and far away, drowned out by the pounding of her own heart. Her first movement the entire round was to look up at the screen as Shoto's name was called over the speakers, the crowd erupted into a frenzy as he stepped onto the field, his red and white hair gleaming in the sunlight. He was facing off against Sero, a student with a tape quirk, and the match was over almost before it began.

With barely any effort, Shoto's ice surged forward in a massive wave, engulfing the arena in a frigid blast of cold. Sero was frozen in place, his body encased in a thick layer of frost, and the crowd erupted into cheers and applause. Ren let out an airy laugh, shaking her head in amusement. Trust that boy to go overboard when he was angry, to pour all of his emotions into his quirk until it was a force of nature, untamed and uncontrollable.

But as the matches continued, Ren found herself growing more and more uneasy. The violence and brutality of the battles, the way the students threw themselves at each other with reckless abandon, it all seemed so pointless and unnecessary. This was the world of heroes to her; violence, egos, meaningless, pointless, all consuming, all destroying. And he was wrapped up in it, that boy she was trying not to think about.

As though she had slipped under, Ren barely noticed the time pass until Shoto's name flashed up on the screens once more. His handsome face staring out at the crowd as they cheered for a clear favourite. Ren held her breath, half wanting to look away, half unable to tear her eyes away in anticipation.

From the moment the two boys stepped onto the field, Ren could sense the tension between them, the crackle of unspoken words and unresolved emotions. Midoriya was a ball of nervous energy, his green hair standing on end and his freckled face set in a determined grimace. Shoto, by contrast, was a picture of icy composure, his mismatched eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched tight.

As the match began, Ren found herself leaning forward in her seat, her hands gripping her knees with white-knuckled intensity. She watched as Shoto unleashed his ice, sending jagged spikes and frozen waves hurtling towards Midoriya with ruthless precision. But Midoriya was not backing down, not giving an inch. He met Shoto's attacks head-on, his body glowing with the eerie green light of his quirk. And as he charged forward, his fist raised and his voice ringing out across the arena, Ren felt a chill run down her spine.

"Use your left side, Todoroki!" Midoriya shouted, his words cutting through the din of the crowd like a knife. "It's your power isn't it?!"

Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening in shock. What would he do? A small lump formed in her throats as she heard his screams float into her head from across the gardens. Everything he vowed was being questioned; was this worth it? This turmoil? This emotional agony? Ren thought as she blinked away tears, trying to rid herself of the image of her childhood friend limping towards her, a bandage over his left eye, bitter sobs escaping his throat. What will you do, Shoto?

A small, sharp jolt ran through Ren's body, her heart jumped into her throat as Shoto's left side erupted into flames.

The heat was intense, a searing wave of energy that washed over the stadium like a physical force. The crowd gasped and recoiled, shielding their faces from the blistering heat, but Ren found herself transfixed, unable to look away, barely moving.

Shoto's face was a mask of fierce determination, his eyes blazing with a fire that had nothing to do with his quirk. While the crowd cheered around her, onlookers standing from their seats, Ren could not move. The turbulence inside her was enough to send her mad; the agony of abuse, the countless nights hearing him cry himself to sleep…if she felt this way, what was going on in Shoto's head? Had a weight been lifted from his shoulders, had he finally found the strength to break free from the chains that had bound him for so long? Or was this years of abuse finally coming up from the depths to burn this place to the ground?

Because that's what this hero obsessed culture had created. Shoto was a victim to the narrative,to the game of power. Yet he played it, willingly. She had to get away from him, this was too much to bear. She swallowed hard, trying to steady herself, but it was no use. The emotions were too raw, too powerful to contain.

She turned to her father, her voice strained. "I can't do this," she whispered, her words nearly lost in the roar of the crowd. "I'm leaving."

Akira's eyes narrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line of disapproval, Shoto's flames casting menacing shadows across the man's face. "Don't be so sensitive," he hissed, his voice barely audible over the din. "There are literally thousands of people cheering and yet you are, always, the only one who has to have a problem."

But Ren could stand it no longer. A flare of anger sparked in her chest, her hands clenched, gripping onto her dress so tightly it could rip. "Yeah, what's not to love about children beating the shit out of each other while people snap photos and heckle them?" she snapped, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's fantastic, we've achieved Utopia, I'm going to go and celebrate."

Akira's face darkened, his eyes flashing with warning. "Sit down," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

"No." And then she was gone, striding up the stairs and out of the stadium with her eyes cast downwards, completely ignored by those captivated by the fight in the arena. As she climbed the steps, her heart pounding in her chest and her mind racing with a thousand thoughts and emotions, Ren felt a sudden wave of heat in front of her. She flinched instinctively, her body tensing as if bracing; Shoto was behind her, how could she feel the heat of him in front of her?

But when she looked up, she saw that it was not Shoto's flames that had caused the sensation, but rather the looming figure of Endeavor himself. The pro hero was descending the stairs, his massive frame filling the space like a living, breathing obstacle. His eyes were fixed on the arena below, his lips curled into a smirk of satisfaction and pride.

As Ren drew level with him, Endeavor's gaze flicked to her, his expression turning cold and mocking.

"Just like old times, eh?" he sneered, his voice dripping with condescension. "You never could stand to watch Shoto's training. Ren felt her jaw clench as she felt her self-control hanging by a thread.

"And look at him now," Endeavor continued, his eyes glinting with a fierce, almost maniacal light. "Using his left side, embracing his true power. All that training, all that hard work...it's finally paying off." He raised his voice, his words ringing out across the stadium like a proclamation. "Unleash your power, Shoto!" he roared, his flames flaring higher and hotter with each word. "Claim your title as the number one hero!"

Ren felt a shudder run through her body, a wave of revulsion and disgust as she turned slightly and looked over her shoulder, her eyes seeking out Shoto on the field below. And there he was, locked in combat with Midoriya, his face a mask of fierce concentration and determination. But as Endeavor's words reached his ears, Shoto faltered, his eyes flicking up to the stands in confusion and anger.

For a moment, he was paralysed as a strange sight met his eyes. His father stood side by side with Ren. It was as though he were looking at his past and his future at the same time; the little boy he was, the hero he wanted to be, the girl he could never quite leave behind. His gaze locked with Ren's, and time seemed to stand still. She could see the pain and the conflict in his eyes, the way his heart was tearing itself apart as he struggled to reconcile his past with his present.

And then, in a moment that Ren would never forget, Shoto's gaze hardened, his jaw clenching with resolve. He turned back to Midoriya, his flames surging higher and hotter than ever before, and let out a roar of defiance that shook the very foundations of the arena.

***

A few days had passed the exciting climax of the UA Sports Festival, and, since Ren had left before the end, she had been caught up by the news. Shoto was hard to escape, his handsome features graced magazine covers, newspapers and TV screens. Ren had been trying, for three days now, to run away from him but he seemed to follow her everywhere. Reporters had been asking for comment regarding the event but she turned them away constantly, stating she was trying to concentrate on her studies. When the truth was…she couldn't stand to think about Shoto. The world he was a part of, the feelings he stirred up, the past they shared. Please, let it end here, let me never see him again. 

Ren was walking hurriedly through the halls of Musutafu University, her footsteps echoing off the polished marble floors. The basement level of the main building was a labyrinth of narrow corridors and dimly lit rooms, a stark contrast to the grand, sunlit atriums and bustling common areas above.

She was dressed in black jeans and a cream silk blouse that draped elegantly over her frame. Ren knew she looked expensive, knew that the artfully tousled waves of her hair and the tasteful glint of gold at her wrists and throat spoke of wealth and privilege. But beneath the polished exterior, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that coiled in her stomach.

She was here to interview for a position as a writer for the university paper, a chance to finally pursue her passion for journalism and make a name for herself outside of her family's shadow. But even as she walked through the quiet, musty halls, Ren couldn't help but worry that her reputation would precede her. Would they see her as just another rich girl playing at being a reporter? Would they assume that she'd gotten the job through nepotism and connections, rather than talent and hard work?

Ren shook her head, trying to banish the doubts that plagued her. She had worked too hard, had come too far to let her insecurities hold her back now. As she approached the tutorial room where the interview was set to take place, Ren took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders and smoothing down the front of her blouse. She reached for the door handle, her fingers hovering over the cool metal...

And then her phone rang, the sound startling in the quiet of the hallway. Ren's heart skipped a beat as she saw the name on the screen. 

Shoto Todoroki.

She inwardly groaned; go away, go away! They hadn't spoken since the sports festival, since that fateful moment when she had watched him unleash his full power on the battlefield, his flames blazing bright and hot as he claimed his destiny as a hero. Ren had left the stadium that day with a heavy heart, unable to bear the weight of her own conflicted emotions. She had always hated the world of heroes and villains, had always seen it as a brutal, unforgiving place where only the strong survived. She couldn't bear to see him go through it all again, it practically broke her the first time. 

And now, here he was, calling her out of the blue, just minutes before an incredibly important interview.

Ren's finger hovered over the "decline" button, her heart racing in her chest. She didn't want to talk to him, didn't want to be pulled back into the chaos and the drama of the hero world. But even as she hesitated, Ren knew that she couldn't ignore him. That boy had a hold on her now.

With a sigh of resignation, Ren swiped to accept the call, lifting the phone to her ear.

"You can't stay away for too long, huh?" She went for what she hoped was a light, friendly tone. There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line, a moment of tension that seemed to stretch out for an eternity.

"You left," Shoto said finally, his voice flat and emotionless. Ren felt a shudder of irritation go through her. Of course she had left. What did he expect her to do, stand around and watch as he and his classmates beat each other senseless for the sake of some arbitrary ranking?

"Yes, and?" her sweet tone turned sharp and defensive.

"Why?" Shoto asked, and there was a hint of genuine curiosity in his voice, a trace of confusion that made Ren's heart ache as she realised; had he wanted her there? Did it bother him that she left? Did he need her?

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "Because," she said, her voice rising with each word, "I can't abide by the hero culture anymore. I don't want to watch kids killing each other for the number one spot, don't want the cameras flashing in my face as my dad makes me shake hands with the winner. It's fucking grotesque, the world you're a part of."

The words poured out of her in a rush, a torrent of pent-up frustration and anger that she had been holding back for far too long. Deep down, Ren knew that there was more to it than that, knew that the real reason she had left was because she couldn't bear to see what the world of heroes and villains was doing to the boy she had once known, the boy she had forgotten she cared about. But she couldn't say that, couldn't admit to the depth of her feelings for him, even to herself. So instead, she lashed out, her words sharp and cutting.

"You mean the world that gave you such a privileged up bringing?" He asked scathingly. Ren actually laughed; as if she would ask for this life knowing where it came from!

"Don't," she snapped and pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes in frustration. She'd be damned if she apologised first. "Why are you calling me?" she asked, her patience wearing thin. "What do you want?"

There was a pause.

"I need your help," Shoto said finally, Ren felt a chill run down her spine, a sense of foreboding that she couldn't quite shake. She didn't want to get more involved in Shoto's life, didn't want to be drawn back into the world of heroes and villains. But even as she hesitated, Ren knew that she couldn't turn him away, couldn't leave him to face whatever challenges lay ahead on his own. Dammit, what is this boy doing to me?

"With?" she asked, still impatient.

"I need you to locate my mother," Shoto said, and Ren felt the world tilt beneath her feet.