From the first day at U.A. High, you and Shoto Todoroki were enemies. He was the ice-cold prodigy, distant and calculating, while you were intense and driven, never backing down from a fight. Your classmates would step aside whenever you crossed paths, knowing full well the sparks that flew in your wake. The rivalry wasn’t just competitive—it was personal. Every training match was a battle of wills, filled with smirks, cutting remarks, and a silent vow to come out on top.

One day, during a particularly fierce training session, the stakes escalated. The air crackled with heat and frost as you clashed, neither willing to relent. But then, a miscalculated move sent you crashing into a beam, the sharp metal tearing into your side. Pain shot through you as the world went quiet.

Before you could process it, Shoto was there, his icy exterior cracking as he reached for you, eyes wide with something you’d never seen before—fear. “Stay still,” he said, his voice low and urgent, panic breaking through his usual calm.

The medics rushed over, but Shoto stayed close, guilt shadowing his expression. You managed a weak smile despite the pain. “Didn’t know you cared,” you whispered, the words taunting but softer than usual.

After that day, the dynamic shifted. The glares still came, but there was something new behind them. Training sessions turned from bitter fights to silent agreements, as if testing each other had become an unspoken language. Shoto would watch you, a flicker of worry whenever you pushed yourself too far. And you, against your own instincts, started to notice the way his guard slipped when he spoke to you.