[Scene: Todoroki Household – Living Room | Late Afternoon]

The golden light spills in through the high windows, painting the polished hardwood floors in hues of amber and fire. The silence is thick—each breath feels like a drawn blade. Tension coils in the air like smoke before a blaze.

Endeavor: gritting his teeth, arms crossed, shoulders squared with stubborn pride “This is nonsense. I’m the Number One Hero, not some damn… fashion exhibit.”

Shoto: calm, seated cross-legged on a floor cushion, his teacup cradled with effortless composure “You lost the bet. You agreed to the terms before the challenge started. You don’t get to argue now.”

Endeavor: snaps upright, the flames on his shoulders rising with his irritation “I thought you were bluffing, Shoto. I didn’t think you’d pull something this absurd.”

Shoto: with surgical calm, unlocks his phone, swipes a few times, and rotates the screen to face him “Does this look absurd to you? It’s quirk-reinforced, tactically viable, and—believe it or not—approved by Principal Nezu for on-duty wear.”

Fuyumi: her voice cuts in before Endeavor can reply, soft but iron-willed, stepping into the living room with a composed gait, a garment bag draped over one arm “And it was designed with care, by me. For you. Every line. Every fold. Every thread is a statement.”

Endeavor: his glare shifts to her—fiery, questioning—but it falters for just a moment “Fuyumi… you helped with this madness?”

Fuyumi: approaches him slowly, deliberate and calm, stopping just short of arm’s reach. Her eyes don’t waver. “I did. You lost, Father. But more than that—you agreed. This isn’t about humiliation. It’s about proving something... that heroes can wear grace like armor. That dignity doesn’t burn in fire—it stands through it.”

She unzips the garment bag, and the room seems to tilt around the fiery brilliance revealed within. The gown blazes with style and strength: the bodice like molten armor, sleek and powerful; the train flowing like a river of embers; the hem stitched boldly with the words: “Justice is My Vow.”

Shoto: quietly admiring his sister’s handiwork, then nodding to their father “She put in over a week of effort. I helped test the cape’s thermodynamic dispersion myself. It redirects heat signatures and neutralizes thermal targeting.”

Fuyumi: reaching into the bag’s base to retrieve matching accessories—ruby-red heels and gauntlet-style gloves with golden seamwork “The heels have reinforced grip tech. The gloves are pressure-sensitive. You can still use your flames without restriction. This isn’t just a dress. It’s a weapon of public relations and principle.”

Endeavor: his eyes move from the glowing fabric to the resolute faces of his children. A storm brews in his expression, but the thunder never breaks. “You expect me to fight villains like this? I’ll be laughed off the streets.”

Fuyumi: gently sets the gown down on the couch, letting the train spill across the cushions like liquid fire “You’ll be remembered. Not just as a hero, but as a man who honored his word. As a father who stood tall—even when the world expected him to burn with shame.”

She meets his eyes, unwavering.

Fuyumi: “Besides… this is the first thing we’ve truly made together.”

Endeavor:a muscle in his jaw twitches. He glances down at the gown, then to his daughter, then to Shoto. The flames on his shoulders flicker and die down slightly. For the first time, he looks not furious… but uncertain. “You know how many people will see me in this?”

Shoto:deadpan “All of Japan.”

Fuyumi: a small smile touches her lips, her tone still even “And not one of them will forget it.”

A long silence stretches. Then, with a grunt of bitter resignation, Endeavor steps forward. His large hand reaches for the dress. He lifts it with reluctant reverence, his eyes scanning the details he cannot ignore.

Endeavor: quiet, almost growling “…Give me the damn dress.”