Shoto Todoroki X Reader

Chapter 3 : Middle school

Years had passed since that day in the Dark Forest, but the memory of it stayed with Shoto like a soft, lingering echo. He was older now—twelve years old—and today was the first day of middle school.

The morning light filtered through the windows of his room, illuminating the space in a pale glow. Shoto sat on the edge of his bed, his school uniform neatly pressed, the jacket heavy on his shoulders. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, the same mismatched eyes gazing back at him. His hair, still split between red and white, framed his face, and though the burns from his childhood had faded, their mark lingered in the way he carried himself—guarded, distant.

He could hear his father's voice downstairs, stern and commanding as always. Shoto's stomach tightened, his father's words from the night before ringing in his ears: "You will be the best. I expect nothing less."

Shoto clenched his fists, feeling the familiar heat flicker beneath his skin. His fire—it was a part of him, but he hated it. Even now, he could still hear his mother's screams from that terrible day when it had hurt her. He shook his head, trying to push the thoughts away.

A soft knock on his door pulled him from his thoughts. It was his older sister, Fuyumi, standing there with a gentle smile. "Ready for your first day?" she asked, her voice light but filled with concern.

Shoto nodded, but he didn't feel ready. Not for the stares, not for the whispers about his father, and definitely not for the pressure to prove himself. But he knew he couldn't escape it.

The walk to school was quiet, his house looming behind him as he headed toward the gates of the massive building. Other students crowded the entrance, some laughing, others nervously adjusting their uniforms. Shoto kept his head down, trying not to draw attention to himself, though his distinctive hair made that nearly impossible. He could feel eyes on him, whispers already beginning as students recognized him.

"Isn't that Endeavor's kid?"

"Yeah, the one with the fire powers..."

"I heard he's really strong."

Shoto ignored them, keeping his gaze fixed on the ground. He had no interest in making friends or proving anything to them. He just wanted to get through the day.

Classroom 1-C was buzzing with energy when he entered. Rows of desks filled the room, and students were already talking animatedly with one another. Shoto slipped into a seat near the window, his body tense as he kept his eyes focused outside. He wanted to be anywhere but here, where expectations hung over him like a storm cloud.

As the minutes passed, more students trickled in, and soon the room was nearly full. Shoto tried to tune out the noise, his mind wandering to the Dark Forest. He hadn't been there in years—not since he'd run away as a child. But sometimes, when he was overwhelmed by his father's demands, he could almost feel the cool air of the forest, hear the soft rustle of leaves, and see the small flowers blooming at the touch of someone else's hand.

A presence at the front of the room pulled Shoto from his thoughts. The teacher, a tall, stern-looking man, had entered, and the chatter in the room died down.

"Welcome to your first day of middle school," the teacher began, his voice firm. "This is an important time for all of you. You are no longer children, and you will be expected to behave as future heroes, or at the very least, responsible members of society. We will not tolerate laziness, and I expect the best from each of you."

Shoto barely heard the rest of the teacher's speech. His mind was elsewhere, the pressure building in his chest like a weight he couldn't shake. He had to be the best. His father had drilled it into him for years, but each time he thought of using his fire, his stomach turned.

The first few classes passed in a blur, and Shoto moved through them mechanically, answering when called upon but otherwise staying silent. The teachers gave him a wide berth, perhaps because of his reputation or maybe because they sensed he wasn't interested in talking. Either way, it suited him just fine.

It wasn't until lunch that Shoto found himself in an unexpected situation. He had gone to sit by himself in a quiet corner of the school courtyard, away from the crowded cafeteria. As he picked at his food, he noticed someone approaching. A boy with wild, spiky hair and a loud voice from other school.

"Hey! You're Endeavor's kid, right?" The boy plopped down across from him without waiting for an invitation, a grin plastered on his face.

Shoto didn't respond, just glanced at the boy, then back at his food.

The boy didn't seem to mind the lack of response. "I'm Bakugo. I've heard a lot about you. I've seen your old man on TV—he's pretty tough. So, you must be strong too, huh?"

Shoto looked up, his expression neutral. "I'm not interested in talking about him."

Bakugo raised an eyebrow, leaning back as if sizing Shoto up. "Huh. You're a quiet one, huh? Doesn't matter. I'll just have to see how strong you are when we start training."

Shoto frowned, his mind flashing to the countless hours of harsh training with his father. "I don't care about that."

Bakugo snorted. "Yeah, right. We'll see. Everyone cares about being the best."

Shoto didn't reply. He didn't need to explain himself to this boy or anyone else. All he wanted was to get through this day without drawing any more attention.

As Bakugo got up and left, Shoto let out a slow breath. The weight of expectations pressed down on him again, suffocating in its intensity. He wanted to be anywhere but here.

And yet, in the back of his mind, there was a memory—a memory of soft whispers in the wind, of a friend who once told him he could choose his own path. A friend from the Dark Forest who believed in him when no one else did.

Shoto clenched his fists, the familiar warmth of fire flickering beneath his skin, but he pushed it down, just as he had done for years. Maybe one day, he would go back to the forest. Maybe one day, he would find that part of himself again—the part that wasn't defined by his father's expectations, the part that was just Shoto.

But today wasn't that day.

Not yet.