MHA – Shoto Todoroki : Modern-day Terrorist

Camera flashes crackled, white light seeping through the slit in the tent's fabric.

The shadows of those posing came to us distorted, as if their bodies were nothing more than dry, angular pieces of wood.

"Turn this way !"

"Crimson Ninja, look here !"

The black tent was crowded with celebrities in gala outfits. They chatted and laughed loudly, moving from one group to another to greet each other and exchange confidences.

One of the women had a green dress with a train and feathers in the back that made her look like a peacock. She leaned forward and her feather scratched the face of another woman who sneezed. The first woman pretended not to notice.

My eyes wandered over the rainbow gathering waiting for their turn on the red carpet.

"I thought there would only be heroes"

I looked up at my father.

He was wearing a navy blue three-piece suit with a refined cut.

The jacket was like a second skin, accentuating his broad shoulders and muscular torso. Even his pants, thanks to some seamstress' sleight of hand, lengthened his legs and made him look even taller than he already was.

A handkerchief embroidered with our family name protruded elegantly from his breast pocket.

I'd had to wear the replica of his outfit - including cufflinks emblazoned with the flame logo - except for the bow tie. My hair, longer than his, had been combed back to reveal my face.

I'd always looked like my father, but tonight I was his miniature version. And no matter how hard I'd tried to get him to confess, he'd never said anything except that it was a strange coincidence. I hadn't missed his little smile of satisfaction.

Anyway, the whole thing was signed Hermes, so I'd given up quite easily.

"You can't fill a hall with only top 20 heroes"

He ran two fingers over his gold watch, absent-mindedly surveying the crowd.

With his two extra heads compared to the other guests, it would have been foolish to say that his every move was discreet.

People looked at him out of the corners of their eyes, startled when they met his gaze. But it only took a second for them to look again, curious.

My father intimidated them, but they seemed to love it, in the same way teenage girls love toxic romances.

It scares you, but you keep coming back for more.

"How do you feel ?"

The crowd shouted the names of each new celebrity as they arrived on the carpet. I could hear the metal barriers scraping against the tarmac and imagined security trying to contain them.

"Okay"

Tonight was the big night, the night of my official entry into the world as Shoto Todoroki, son of Endeavor.

The chances that something worse than my last abduction would happen would only be multiplied, but life had been a risky business since the day I was born into this world.

Today or tomorrow, what's the difference ?

My father thought I was ready, too. And I trusted him.

"Don't forget to squint. The light burns the retina if you look at it too long"

I nodded.

A clerk in a black cap with a list and a pen called out to us.

"Mr. Endeavor, you're up next"

The crowd of celebrities parted to let us through. Even the peacock lady released her feathers to prevent my father from getting them in his face.

Or maybe she was just afraid he'd burn them as he walked by.

The agent moved the curtain blocking the entrance to the tent, his big nose sliding out as if for fresh air.

"Countdown in three, two..."

My father took my hand in his. His eyes were reassuring.

"A few photos and off we go"

I could feel the eyes of all the other people in the room piercing my neck.

The agent called out to me:

"Don't forget to squint, kid"

And he pulled the curtain wide open to the outside world. I had underestimated the soundproofing of the big tent.

The cacophony of screams and voices that assaulted me was such that I thought my eardrums would burst.

I was forced to temporarily reduce the quality of my hearing and vision. The contrast was so intense that I felt as if I had gone deaf and blind.

My father gently tugged on my hand to pull me to the center of the mat.

The photographers briefly paused to exchange glances over their cameras. Their eyes darted back and forth between the two of us.

But other than looking, none of them said anything.

If I wasn't having an existential crisis about the frailty of humanity, I might have laughed at the way they avoided my father's gaze.

An acne-ridden boy, probably new to the scene, was seized by a burst of bravado and shouted:

"Mister Endeavor ! Mister Endeavor ! Is this your son ?"

The other journalists looked at him as if he'd just signed his death warrant. My father tightened his grip on my hand, then replied with a proud, straight face.

"Yes"

The journalists looked incredulous that he would deign to answer. It made me wonder about Endeavor's personality and how he'd gotten to the point where a simple "yes" could move forty-somethings with trucker looking men.

Granted, my father wasn't the nicest hero you could meet, and yes, I admit he looked like a grumpy dwarf (minus the dwarf), but he was a good man.

He was fair, impartial, and took his role as a Hero to heart.

He never wasted time posing for magazines or giving interviews, for the simple reason that he "would waste time on the things that really mattered'.

Flashes crackled again.

My father gently squeezed my hand and we were off again.

A few strides and we were on our way to the reception area.

"Welcome"

The huge glass doors opened.

The room was the height of luxury and extravagance.

Blue crystal tables shared space with cream velvet armchairs.

Fountains, presumably part of the walls, poured their water into small basins that circled the room like pipes.

Shimmering hanging plants had been suspended from the marble basins, giving the place a French village feel.

Dim lights had been hung regularly enough to brighten the place, but not enough to see with the glass ceiling that gave a bird's eye view of the surprisingly starry sky (fake?), the atmosphere was more that of a private party than a hero's gala.

An icy, human-sized statue sat in the center of the room. He had a fist raised to the sky and a cloak floating behind him, but his face was smooth as a baby's skin, anonymous.

Presumably to keep the surprise of who would get the next number 1 spot, although that was not really a surprise at all.

"Can I have your phon-"

A clerk stood by the entrance, a plastic box in one hand and a post-it note ready for annotation in the other. He swallowed loudly.

My father glared at him, but his face remained perfectly smooth.

The clerk shrank back into himself.

My father's eyes darkened.

Wait, is that why he always looks so angry in public? Because people are scared when they see him ?

The clerk stammered, his face flushed.

"Good evening, Mr. Endeavor, good to see you.I didn't recognize you in this costume, since you usually wear a different one.I mean, the one you wear as a hero is fine, but this one is better.I mean, I prefer it, but maybe you don't, and I think I should shut up and stop assuming things that don't make sense, because"

He tightened his grip and took a breath. A long one.

I waited for the rest, amused.

"Can I have your cell phones ?"

"No"

And we left him there. I watched over my shoulder as his mouth opened and closed like a fish.

He didn't even try to catch us up.

A waiter in a tuxedo walked by and offered us a drink.

My father eyed the cloudy contents suspiciously, then declined.

"So, where's our table?"

A few guests were already seated, but most of the tables were empty. My father led me to the stage.
"We have to-"

"What a lucky coincidence to meet my dear brother here!"

A woman with white curls and gray eyes appeared out of nowhere and blocked our way. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and glared at my father with contempt.

"Emilia" He sounded surprised "What are you doing here ?"

She laughed, the river of diamonds around her neck jiggling.

"Finally, Enji ! You sound like you're not happy to see me !"

"That's the case"

Emilia's upper lip curled over her teeth.

A storm was building up in her eyes.

Much fiercer than Rei.

She turned her attention to me. Her mouth opened and her eyes softened.

"My little Shoto. If only you knew how happy I am to see you..."

.I moved closer to my father, half hiding behind his arm.

"Daddy, she's scaring me..."

He understood exactly what I was getting at and pushed me even farther behind him.

"You heard him. Move out of our way"

Emilia glared at him, then crouched down to my level.

"You don't need to be afraid of me, Shoto. I'm your aunt, your mother's sister. We've met before, you know ? But you were little, like this" She raised her hand to her knee "You must have forgotten me by now"

Liar.

"What's it like living with just your dad?He's not too mean to you?You'd tell me if he was, wouldn't you ? Since I'm your aunt..."

I felt my father tense up.

"What are you insinuating ?"

"Do you miss your brother and sister ? Would you like to see them ? We could arrange it. You could see your mom too. You love your mom very much, don't you ?"

I looked up at my father. A vein throbbed fiercely at his neck.

"Don't make me repeat myself"

When she saw that I didn't answer her, Emilia reluctantly stood up. She dusted off her skirt.

"You can't keep him away from his family forever, Enji. Sooner or later, he will ask"

"I am his family"

The burst of voices, barely louder than the surrounding chatter, had the misfortune to occur when the pianist paused for a moment.

Heads turned and the chatter lost volume. Everyone seemed to be very interested in seeing Number 2 air his dirty laundry in public.

"How dare you !"

Emilia took a step forward, flushed with anger.

My father wouldn't budge.

"I forbid you to come here and tell your-"

"Relax, Mr. Hero. We're just family here, so why make a scene ?"

A blond man with a broad build slid in between my father and the madwoman on duty. He wasn't nearly as tall as my old man, but he had no trouble looking him in the eye.

I had trouble making out his accent.

Spanish ? Italian maybe ?

He looked around at the more or less discreet group of people watching eyes returned to my father and he gave him an icy smile.

"Take your wife and get out of here, Andrei"

The blond man smiled and then took a step forward, coming dangerously close to my father.

"Or what ?"

The tension rose a notch.

They stared at each other.

I didn't miss the clenched fist the blond man had hidden in his pocket.

But my father knew better than to make the mistake of striking first. On the other hand, no one could blame him for sending his attacker to the hospital.

Emilia tugged her husband's sleeve.

"Per favore sono qui per fare una scenata"

His fist slackened. He continued the staring duel for a few moments, for the sake of form, then took a step back.

He put an arm around his wife, but his gaze was still on my father.

"Contrary to what you may think, I didn't come here to cause a scandal," Emilia said.

She sighed.

"I wanted to talk to you about Rei. How she feels"

"I suppose she doesn't know that you and your husband ambushed me?"

A bitter line twisted around Emilia's mouth.

"You don't know what you've done to her by taking away another of her children"

My father clenched his jaw.

"Her and I have an agreement. Don't make me believe that you don't know"

Emilia spat, again angrily :

"She's suffering, Enji! Terribly!"

He didn't even blink.

"Go away"

Emilia glared at him.

She rummaged through her micro-bag and pulled out a post-it note, scribbling on shoved the paper into the heart pocket of my suit.

"Our address, if you ever need anything"

Without looking back, they made their way through the crowd of curious onlookers to a platinum-haired, blue-eyed boy about my age. He looked at me curiously, his hands in his pockets - mirroring my own behavior - and I was surprised at how much we looked like each other.

The same posture, the same bored expression, and the same haircut.

Emilia took his hand, and the small family walked away, disappearing into the the crowd.

The gossipers gathered around us dispersed, glancing at us occasionally and murmuring in low voices.

I pulled the post-it out of my pocket.

It went up in flames in a second.

"Did you burn it ?"

I looked up at my father, who never took his eyes off Emilia and her husband until he could no longer see them.

I absentmindedly dusted the remains off my jacket.

"Until ashes"

*

Author's note :

Trying out a new time of publication. Is it better for you all if I post around this time ?

I'm actually planning what could be considered the last part of this story and I would like to know what some of you think a world with superpowered individual would look like, or what ideas you think would've been cool to see in the original MHA, or what you were disappointed to not see. Just remember that I'm a very realistic people and we're not here for rainbow and cuddles.

Don't worry, you all, this story won't finish at chapter 50, I'm just that much of an organized person.

Concerning the magical book, or the 'chakra encyclopedia' : I mentionned it for the first time chapter 10, and it was a bit more explained at the beginning of chapter 11. I have been a bit light on the explanations because apart from what you've read, there's not much else to know, and you'll read what you need to know in the following chapters.

Otherwise you can support me on P@treon and read up to 50 chapters ahead 

And see you in the next update everyone !