Paradise [Todoroki Shoto x reader]

Chapter 65

YOU WATCHED intently, as Foxtrot brought out a slip of paper, and scanned over it vaguely; he then turned to you, with a sly smile. "Shall we get started?"

"Yes," you answered quietly, your hands clenched against your legs.

"Very well," he sat up, keeping a close eye on you. "(L/n), why do you want to be a Hero?"

You had not expected that question, to be honest. What you'd prepared for were general queries regarding your skills; not an analysis of your morals.

"I want to help people," you responded, after a pause.

"I see... so, you are not interested in money, or fame?" Foxtrot continued.

"Those things are irrelevant to me," you replied, "I'm lucky enough to be well educated, and to have a roof over my head. All I want is to in some way contribute to the wellbeing of others."

"How selfless," the man across from you commented. "So, you wish to help people, although you have ended the life of somebody?"

You stiffened, reassuring yourself that he was playing with you, before replying, "Yes."

"Hmm," Foxtrot grinned, obviously having noticed your discomfort. "(L/n), are you perhaps... what some might refer to as radical?"

"What do you mean by that, sir?" you asked, frowning.

"Well," Foxtrot stood up, and began to wander round the room. "As you know, history has been long, filled with wars, dictatorships, and opposing ideologies. However, thanks to the introduction of quirks, our society has become further disrupted.

"There are many opinions regarding this. Some say it has been a huge victory, and that the economy has improved drastically thanks to the utilisation of many people's new powers. Some say that it has been an awful turn of events, due to the abuse of power.

"However, thankfully, we have people such as yourself, who take it upon themselves to rid the world of those who want to steal, pillage, and bring destruction to the world. As we have known, the profession of the Hero has gained a very positive reputation to most.

"In the immortal words of Winston Churchill himself, "Never in the field of conflict, was so much owed, by so many, to so few". Don't you agree?"

Where is he going with this?

"However... there of course, is the dirty underside," Foxtrot's eyes glinted with untold disgust. "Only those with exceptionally strong will can maintain their values. I'm sure you're aware of the top ten heroes in the country...

"But what about the others? What about those at the bottom of the ladder, who stay out of the limelight, and use their status as a hero to live a life of luxury, and ignore the crime around them. What about those who realise that their power is theirs to control, and they can do what they want with it?

"What about those who realise that the government has no right to keep them silenced, after being radicalised?"

You gulped, looking at the floor. "I agree that the system is flawed. However, if I may quote Lenin, "Without revolutionary theory, there can be no revolutionary movement"." You spoke slowly. "There would need to be an organised push, if they believe that they deserve a better life."

"Ah," Foxtrot approached your desk, laying his slender hands flat on the wood, looking down at you, with that unsettling grin of his. "But do they deserve a better life?"

A wave of nausea attacked you, and your bottom lip wobbled, as you let out a weak, "Huh?"

"What about those who steal? Those who create havoc? Those who... kill?" at the last word, he looked directly at you. "Do you think these people deserve to be given such opportunities?"

You shook in your seat, almost as if you could see the reflection of the boy you'd killed in his unforgiving, sharp eyes. Did you deserve all this? Did you deserve a family? Did you deserve Todoroki's love?

The man smiled, like a fox closing in on an unsuspecting rabbit. He then lifted his hand, and tapped the desk; "License here."

Without a word, you slid the card out of your pocket, and placed it shakily on the table. Foxtrot then carefully stamped the blank area, sealing your approval; yet you felt no relief or gratitude. Only a cold sense of dread remained in your bones.

Foxtrot was delighted at your fear, and then spoke in a sickeningly sweet tone. "Don't forget what you did, all right, (L/n)?"

You stared in utter horror at the desk, at a loss for words.

He then drew away, and walked back to his desk, humming what sounded like a nursery rhyme. Arthur was beside himself with rage, and prepared to take a step forward, with a good mind to give him a good thrashing—but he stopped short, when you suddenly began to talk.

"People are not perfect," you whispered. "But I'll assume you know that."

Foxtrot turned around, surprised at you finally choosing to speak. "Yes, that I do know."

"We make mistakes," you continued slowly, "we do things we regret. We often make bad decisions for both selfish and selfless reasons. However, I think you will find that there is more than meets the eye in most cases.

"As an example, let's say that a person robs someone else, stealing all of their money. Your first instinct would be to punish the thief, right? But what if this thief has been subjected to a life of financial distress, unable to get a good job due to his lack of education? What if this thief is trying to provide for their starving family?

"Things become more complicated. Not everything is black and white, and there is often a cruel, cold logic behind even the most evil of actions.

"But do not excuse these actions. If you know what you have done is wrong, admit it, and prove it. If you ran an illegal dog fighting ring, and got found out, donate to charities that work against dog trafficking, and speak about it to younger generations. Prove that you are willing to correct yourself.

"Context and consequence is important. But these things are mostly not dealt with properly in society. So, to repent for my own crime, I will work to create a fairer system for those seeking justice."

You stood up quietly, glaring at Foxtrot determinedly; "I know where I come from, sir. You don't need to remind me, nor try to control me. Because I believe that what I went through was unfair, and so I will try with all my might to disassemble the dumb system you put me through."

There was a pause, as Foxtrot stared at you in surprise. Arthur practically glowed with pride, muttering to himself about how he needed to get you some of your favourite food after this.

"Do you really think you're in control?" Foxtrot spat, walking towards you quickly without warning, his hand raising upwards, in preparation to do something, "You think you can lecture me? A child who killed somebody?"

You prickled in shock, you quirk involuntarily activating, as his hand came flying towards you, and you reached out to defend yourself, stumbling backwards—

A set of fingers wrapped around Foxtrot's wrist, before anything further could happen. Arthur let out an irritated sigh, pushing the man's arm away from you, before giving him an intensely angry stare; "Don't touch my child."

The pixels on your hands faded away out of relief, and you almost collapsed, from the mental stress of it all. Arthur turned to you, and picked your newly stamped licence off the table, before taking your right hand, and leading you out of the room.

"Thank you for the confirmation, Foxtrot," Arthur called out, before he closed the door, "I'm sure (Y/n) will use it to its fullest capabilities."