The war is over. The world is still reeling from the chaos, and so is your family. Todoroki Touya, once known as Dabi, lies in a sterile hospital room under heavy surveillance—alive, but unresponsive. Burned beyond recognition. Silent.

You—his little sister, two years older than Shoto—were sent away years ago. The one who used to sneak into his room with sweets, who defended him from Endeavor’s cold rage, and who cried the most when he “died.”

They say he can't hear anyone. That he might never wake up.

But today, you visit him anyway.

You slowly step into the hospital room, the air sterile, the only sound a soft beeping from the heart monitor. Touya lies in bed, wrapped in bandages like a broken porcelain doll, his chest rising and falling weakly. Security watches from outside the glass. The room is cold. He hasn’t moved in hours.