Paradise [Todoroki Shoto x reader]

Chapter 64

"Well, you still are being monitored, you know," Arthur explained, "so you need to get your license approved by the committee in charge of watching kids like you."

"Oh for fuck's sake," you complained, rubbing your forehead. "Ok. Let's get it over with."

Arthur nodded, before waving over a new taxi; All Might waved you goodbye, giving you a pat on the head before he got into the cab he'd called. Bakugo stuck his tongue out at you, to which you gave him a middle finger, as he stuffed his equipment in the boot of the car.

Your boyfriend gave you a concerned look, to which you sighed, and shrugged. "I'm under surveillance," you chuckled mirthlessly, "I can't get off scott free. I should've seen this coming."

Todoroki showed same rare emotion, his beautiful eyes showing sorrow—then, he leaned down, and pressed his hot-cold lips to your cheek, as a small gesture of affection.

It left you stock still, which made him laugh slightly, before saying a quiet, "See you," and also entering the cab. You watched the vehicle leave, pressing your fingers where he'd kissed, practically steaming with embarrassment.

"What was that?" Arthur's menacing voice cut through your thoughts, and you turned around cautiously, to find him utterly blazing with fury.

"Uh... I didn't tell you? Todoroki and I are dating now," you replied, laughing nervously.

Arthur stood there in silence, before turning to the driver of the taxi he'd called over, and pointed in the direction that the others had gone. "Follow that car."

"Arthur, no—"

After convincing your dad that he didn't need to pull Todoroki over to interrogate him, you two ended up driving over to a large looking government building, with the words, "Ministry of Quirks" stamped above it. Arthur got out first, and lead you inside to a busy reception, where many people were rushing around in suits, with documents.

The strangest thing was, though, was that no one made a sound. There was no conversation between the employees, as they went through door to door, only the security guard at the front desk was talking on the phone, in a hushed tone.

You were very uncomfortable with the atmosphere that they had created in the studio today.

Sticking close to Arthur, you followed him up to the reception, where he addressed the man. "I'm here to get approval for the licence of (L/n) (Y/n) from Delta."

"Confirmed," the worker replied. "But they've changed the approval. You'll need to get stamped by Foxtrot, not Delta."

"Foxtrot?" the uncertainty in Arthur's voice in turn made you nervous. "I've never heard of a Foxtrot. Are they new?"

"Just came in last week, from a promotion," the employee answered. "They're up in room 8-D."

"Must be pretty good if they're already granted approval stamps..." Arthur murmured to himself, before looking round to you, and holding out his hand, with a smile. "Come on."

Still suspicious, you took it, and allowed your dad to lead you up staircase after staircase, down corridor after corridor, till at last, you arrived at a grey door, titled simply "8-D Conformation Room" above the threshold.

You instinctively stiffened, worry creeping into your brain like a cancer, and you took a step away. Arthur noticed this, and grimaced; he could also tell something wasn't right here, but he knew you needed approval.

"Comeon," he coaxed, "you've faced much worse than this. You can do it. I'll step in if they try anything."

You glanced up at him, then nodded shortly, and gestured for him to open the steel door. He did, and you were greeted with a dark room, with two singular desks opposite each other, a fair distance away.

At the table furthest away, sat a young man, with grey, short hair, and a set of sunglasses. In his hand, he was fiddling absentmindedly with what you assumed was your stamp of approval; he carried the air of a confidence not many could, and there was something oddly unsettling about his smile, when he turned his head to see you.

"Don't just stand there, come in!" he chuckled, waving his free hand. "You do want your license approved, don't you?"

You didn't appreciate his mocking tone.

Arthur did not either, which was evident from his offended expression, as he closed the door behind him. You jumped slightly at the noise, playing with the edge of your school blazer.

"(L/n), correct?" the man asked. When you nodded in response, his grin stretched out across his face, causing you to stiffen. "Do sit down."

Cautiously, you took a seat at the open desk opposite him, leaving Arthur to stand at the back of the room.

You glanced around, trying to determine your environment, but thanks to the lack of light, provided only by one small lamp hanging from the ceiling, not much could be said. However, the ground seemed to be made of metal, indicating this was some type of holding room.

"Oh, where are my manners?" the man exclaimed, leaning forwards over his table. "I am Foxtrot, a new member on the committee that keeps watch over children with potentially dangerous quirks."

"Nice to meet you," you replied, raising an eyebrow, "I'd shake your hand, but unfortunately, my arm isn't five feet long."

Foxtrot tipped his head back, and laughed maniacally; you subconsciously shuffled a bit back in your chair. He sounded so... unhinged. Perhaps something had been knocked loose in his brain.

"I like kids with a sense of humour, you know," Foxtrot spoke slyly, gaining your attention again. "So many of the kids I've met at so traumatised, so dull, lacking in personality... but you... oh, you've got flavour. I'll give you that, (L/n)."

Your eyes narrowed, and you peered at his green eyes. Arthur had green eyes—but unlike your father's, Foxtrot's were bright, with a little too much energy.

Was he trying to mess with you?

"I'd like to get my stamp of approval as soon as possible," you responded hastily.

"Oh, but of course!" Foxtrot replied, before his grin became a tad more sadistic, "But, I'm afraid you're going to answer a couple of questions first."

A/n: am I adding in another subplot of my own? You bet.