Chapter Text
It was a cold winter’s night, and for once the Todoroki house was quiet… that wasn’t normal. Even at the dead of night, he would be screaming at someone or something.
Shoto sat up in bed shaking and sweating… another nightmare. That wasn’t unusual—he was used to it now. Every time he had one, he just went to his brother Touya’s room, and he would calm him down.
But tonight was different… something in the house felt off. It was too warm, and there were unfamiliar sounds around… but as any four-year-old would, Shoto brushed it off and went to his brother’s room.
When he opened the door, he discovered why he had had this terrible feeling… there was fire everywhere. It covered the walls and floors. The heat was unbearable, and the thick smoke made Shoto’s throat burn.
“Mom?!” Shoto called out weakly, but there seemed to be no reply.
Despite that, he tried again.
“Touya!!” he screamed. His lungs burned, but this time he heard something back—a cough.
It came from across the hall.
He squinted and saw his brother standing there looking terrified. His parents and siblings lay unconscious on the floor around him.
“Shoto?” Touya said softly.
“Touya, what’s going on? I’m so scared,” Shoto said, beginning to cry.
Touya’s face crumbled. He walked over to Shoto, acting as if the flames around him wouldn’t harm him.
He winced in pain as he took Shoto in his arms and hugged him, trying to remain strong for his brother, but he could feel himself slipping away.
“Shhh, it’s ok, I’m right here,” Touya whispered while Shoto sobbed.
Finally, they heard sirens getting closer, and relief washed over Touya—but that was quickly replaced with panic…
He couldn’t breathe. His vision started going fuzzy, and Shoto’s words sounded distant. Before he knew it, he had collapsed…
Firefighters rushed in and got both boys out, rushing them to the hospital to get them checked out.
Shoto was alright—no major injuries, just a few mild burns. Touya, on the other hand, was covered in burns over his arms and face. He hadn’t woken up in a few days either.
Shoto was starting to wonder where his brother was. None of the nurses would tell him; they just smiled sadly and told him to go play…
Shoto can’t remember anything after he got put into foster care. He had been there for 12 years, moving from home to home. No one wanted the kid who looked broken—and honestly, Shoto felt broken.
That’s until one day at school.
He was walking through the hall, head down, hood up, and headphones in as usual, trying to be invisible. He was zoned out yet so aware of his surroundings.
He passed the notice board, and something caught his eye—a sign-up sheet for a drama camp that was taking place during summer break. Shoto wasn’t really into acting, but he loved backstage work and scriptwriting, so without thinking, he signed up and continued walking.
The rest of the day was a blur, and before Shoto knew it, it was the next day, and he was in the office handing in his money for the camp. Roughly 22,000 yen gone, but hey—it was something to do for the summer, so Shoto wasn’t complaining.
He went home and packed his bag. He didn’t have much, but he had enough. He then got his backpack out and started packing. He packed his notebook, some pencils, his phone charger, and his phone, then zipped the bag up.
Shoto got into bed that night feeling kind of excited… finally, he was getting out of here, even if it was only for the summer.
He woke up the next morning feeling extremely anxious, but despite that, he made his way to the bus stop and got onto the bus.
He didn’t pay attention for most of the ride—he was too busy writing. It was a script for a play about loss and love. Love… Shoto craved love. He’d never felt it—or at least not that he could remember.
The main character was a prince who lost his kingdom fighting in a war. He then fell in love with the prince of the enemy kingdom, who gets taken hostage, so he sets off to free him. But in the end, his lover dies in his arms, and he realizes he no longer has a purpose in life and ends it all. Obviously, in between he meets people, and there’s some happiness, but Shoto couldn’t think of a happy ending, so he simply didn’t give the story one.
They arrived at the camp when Shoto finally noticed him… Katsuki Bakugo, his school’s golden boy. He was the lead in every single play their school had done. He liked to bully Shoto for… well, existing. Though Shoto never really paid much attention to him before, ever since he had started helping with backstage stuff at their school, he had also started defending himself against Katsuki—which only made the boy angrier.
“Welcome to drama camp, children. I’m your director, Aizawa,” the man said tiredly.
Shoto looked around… the camp looked magical. There were trees surrounding the camp, an outdoor theatre, what looked like an indoor hall, and obviously the dorms. There were these stepping stone paths leading to each area, with signs telling you which path went where. There were small cherry blossoms painted on each sign, which just made everything better.
In that moment, Shoto had forgotten about Katsuki and was just taking in his surroundings, enjoying the warm breeze on his face. But he was quickly brought back to reality when he heard his name called.
“Todoroki, you’re in a dorm with Bakugo,” Aizawa said quickly, calling out more names. But Shoto again paid no attention to that.
He was too shocked.
He thought it would be easy to avoid Katsuki, but apparently not—since they were sharing a dorm.
For a moment the two just stared at each other… Shoto was shocked, but Katsuki just looked mad, which made Shoto even more anxious.
They made their way to their dorm in silence… this was going to be a long summer.
“So let’s get one thing straight,” Katsuki said, setting his bags down on one of the beds.
“What?” Shoto said flatly.
“We aren’t friends, and I don’t like you. You got that, IcyHot?!” Katsuki shouted.
“Ok,” Shoto said, laying down on his bed. It was so comfortable—well, more comfortable than his one back in the foster house, anyway.
He spent the rest of the day finishing up his script since they were allowed to do whatever they wanted for the rest of the day.
Shoto sat alone for dinner, still absorbed in his writing, when someone snatched his notebook… it was Katsuki, obviously.
“Huh, what’s this?” Katsuki said, flipping through pages of notes, costume ideas, and the script itself.
Shoto stood up and tried to grab the notebook, but Katsuki shoved him, and he hit the wall.
“Hey now, pretty boy, this is mine now,” Katsuki said, walking away—but Shoto wasn’t backing down.
“My sorrows consume me, for I can no longer deal with this pain. He died because of me; I deserve to feel the same pain he did,” Katsuki read out. It had started in a mocking manner, but slowly he actually started embracing the character.
Shoto slowly approached him and gently took the book back.
“D-don’t do that again…” Shoto mumbled.
“Or what?!” Katsuki said through gritted teeth.
“Or nothing. I’m not making a threat, I’m simply setting a boundary,” Shoto said, his voice icy cold.
“Hm, whatever. It’s not like it’s any good, so why should I bother,” Katsuki said, walking away.
Shoto breathed a sigh of relief as he examined his notebook to make sure there was no damage—and thankfully there was none.
Shoto made his way to the door, suddenly feeling drained, but Aizawa stopped him.
“Todoroki, I heard Bakugo reading your script. It was good. Would you maybe consider letting us use it for the play? Only if you’re comfortable, of course,” Aizawa said, putting a hand on Shoto’s shoulder, which made him flinch.
“Of course… if you, uh, think it’s good enough,” Shoto mumbled, handing Aizawa the notebook.
“Nice. Then we’ll have auditions tomorrow,” Aizawa said, flipping through the notebook just as Katsuki did. “I’ll see you then, ok kid?”
“Mhm.” Shoto nodded and walked out as fast as he could.
Finally, he was being seen. Being recognized. He wouldn’t be invisible much longer—he could feel it.