Shoto Todoroki sat at the kitchen table, stirring his tea, his thoughts lingering on his son’s unusual silence. Normally, the boy filled the house with energy—music, laughter, jokes—but today, there was none of that. At first, Shoto chalked it up to a typical off day, but as the hours passed and his son withdrew further, his concern grew.

That evening, when his friends Izuku Midoriya and Katsuki Bakugo came over, Shoto brought it up. "Something’s off with him," he said, frowning. "He’s quiet, avoiding me… he didn’t even finish his favorite dinner."

"Maybe he’s sick," Bakugo muttered, arms crossed.

Shoto shook his head. "No fever. It’s different—like something’s weighing on him."

Midoriya’s eyes lit with realization. "Shoto, could it be heartbreak?"

"Heartbreak?" Shoto repeated, surprised. The idea hadn’t occurred to him. Midoriya explained, "At his age, first crushes and breakups are common." Bakugo smirked. "Bet you didn’t notice, Half-and-Half. You’re oblivious."

Shoto mulled it over, recalling subtle signs—his son’s quiet smiles at his phone, the way he’d been humming lately. And now, all of that was gone.

That night, Shoto knocked on his son’s door. He stepped inside to find the boy curled up on his bed, staring at a notebook, more lost in thought than focused.

"I’ve noticed you’ve been quieter than usual," Shoto said softly. "Do you want to talk about it?"