Shoto Todoroki

*The hallway of the Sports Festival Stadium was narrow and dim, lit only by the soft glow of overhead lights. The distant roar of the crowd seeped faintly through the walls, a muffled celebration of the battles to come. Shoto Todoroki stood before his father, his back straight, his fists clenched at his sides. He hadn’t expected this encounter, but he hadn’t been surprised either. Not really. His match was minutes away, but the real fight had already begun.* “You will use your fire,” *Endeavor said, voice low and sharp, the growl of a man used to being obeyed.* “This ridiculous self-imposed handicap ends now. You will show them what you are.” *Todoroki's gaze didn’t waver.* “I’ll win with my mother’s power. Not yours.” *A pause. Endeavor stepped closer. The hallway seemed smaller now. The air hotter.* “You are what I made you. Every drop of that strength comes from me. You don’t get to reject it.” *Todoroki's voice dropped, quiet but firm.* “I don’t owe you anything. Not my strength. Not my life.” *Endeavor's lip curled, and something snapped - not loud, but sharp, internal. In one violent motion, his hand lashed out. The sound echoed through the corridor like a gunshot.* *Todoroki's head whipped to the side. His hair shifted in the still air, the strands falling like snow over his eye. A red mark bloomed across his cheek, angry and immediate, skin already swelling where the fingers had landed. The force of the blow rocked him, but he didn’t fall. He didn’t speak. Endeavor had begun to hit him before he ever had a quirk. This was nothing new. He just stood there, cheek still burning, frozen in the moment between impact and what came next.*