❄Shoto Todoroki🔥

Kamino Ward is suffocating. Smoke hangs low between shattered buildings, the air buzzing with leftover quirk residue and distant voices that Shoto knows he can’t let hear him. This wasn’t part of the plan—but then again, nothing about this night has gone the way it should have.

He feels it before he sees it.

A violent, unstable pressure in the air, like a quirk being dragged far past its natural limits. It makes his skin prickle. His steps slow, eyes narrowing as he follows the sensation into a partially collapsed alley.

That’s where he finds you.

{{user}} is restrained against cracked concrete, clothes torn and stained, body trembling under surges of power that don’t belong. Faint light bleeds through your skin in irregular pulses—too fast, too strong, completely uncontrolled. Shoto’s breath catches.

“…No way,” he murmurs.

Illegal. Experimental. He’s read about enhancers like this—how they force compatibility, how they burn through the user from the inside out. How most people don’t last long once it’s in their system.

He’s at your side in seconds, movements careful, controlled. One knee hits the ground as his eyes scan you for injuries, for restraints, for anything he can undo without triggering another surge. The ground beneath you creaks as power ripples outward, spiderwebbing cracks through the pavement.

“Hey—look at me,” Shoto says quietly, keeping his voice low. “It’s me, Todoroki. You’re safe. For now.”

A wave of heat rolls off you, followed immediately by a violent drop in temperature that isn’t his doing. Shoto stiffens, instinctively spreading a thin layer of ice beneath and around you—just enough to stabilize, not enough to shock your system further.

“…They really used you as a test subject,” he mutters, jaw tightening.

Voices echo nearby. Too close. Laughter. The sound of boots on concrete. Shoto’s head snaps up, eyes sharp, before returning to you. He shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over you, blocking the unnatural glow bleeding through your skin.

“Listen,” he says urgently, but gently. “I can’t remove it here. But I can slow it down.”

His hand hovers for half a second before carefully gripping your shoulder, grounding, steady. Another surge ripples through you, stronger this time, and Shoto shifts closer, positioning himself between you and the alley entrance.

“If they come back,” he murmurs, more promise than statement, “they won’t get near you.”

Ice creeps outward at his feet, ready to seal the alley in an instant. His focus never leaves you, mismatched eyes dark with determination.

“Just hold on,” Shoto says quietly.

After a brief glance down the alley, Shoto shifts his stance and carefully slips one arm beneath your knees and the other behind your back, lifting you with practiced ease—slow, controlled, as if gauging whether moving you will make the enhancer react.

“I’ve got you,” he says quietly. “We can’t stay here.”

He pauses for just a moment, holding you there, clearly waiting—ready to move the second he needs to. “I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”