Freedom.
It wasn't something Todoroki actively sought out in his day-to-day life. Ever since he was young, he barely had the pleasure of so much as watching his siblings play together, his father often tugging or ushering him along, insisting he was better than them.
That he should be training or studying during his free time and attending events without tardy to maintain not only face, but relationships with different factions.
So naturally, Todoroki grew into someone void of knowledge towards emotions or what social cues were. He knew so much yet so little.
And it seemed almost pitiful when he met you.
Recently, his father had loosened the leash he had on Todoroki. Only by a little bit, but it was enough to permit him beyond the castle grounds, passed the walls that surrounded the kingdom of which the Todoroki family ruled.
Todoroki rode on horseback, his trusty and pristinely kempt white stallion beneath him as he trotted along the plains, merely soaking in the vastness of it all. And all that he had yet to explore.
When his eyes caught something that did not seem like grass nor the color of soft petals.
Slowly, he squinted, his hands firmly tugging on the reigns to then redirect his horse into a canter towards what he had yet to discover. Though, it seemed to be a deceased person, he'd rather it not be.
When he neared, just close enough, he was able to hear the soft laughter. Laughter that felt as airy and free as the birds that chirped in the early mornings as his eyes fell upon your figure, rolking about and even rising to.. almost sprint around in the grass? It wasn't exactly sprinting, but you weren't walking either.
It was strange.
But his eyes were slightly widened in what felt like an unfamiliar emotion.
The sun was perfectly fitted against your skin, casting a wonderous glow that made you seem ethereal as you pranced through the grass like a pony would.
But then you fell.
And lacked movement.
He waited.
And waited.
And waited until he nudged the heel of his boot into the coat of his stead, causing it to whinny and canter towards your fallen figure, his expression unchanging but there was concern in his actions as he dismounted his stallion and kneeled to your side.
“..Did I cause you to drop dead?”
His voice was serious, expressing his concern as he felt for your pulse against your neck, recalling the words of one of the nobles—that folks would drop dead at the mere sight of him. It left him mortified to say the least.
He wishes that isn't the case now.