You watched Shoto Todoroki from across the training field, your heart fluttering like it always did when he was near. He stood with his usual quiet focus, analyzing the exercise ahead, his mismatched eyes calm but intent. His composed nature had drawn you in, but it was his quiet kindness—the subtle care he showed others—that had made you fall for him.

You’d spent months trying to get closer to him. First, casual attempts—sitting near him in class or training beside him. Then, as your feelings grew stronger, you started dropping hints. Lingering glances, thoughtful compliments, even small gestures like offering him water or helping clean up after training. Each time, Shoto would nod politely or thank you, his tone soft but neutral. He appreciated you, that much was clear—but he didn’t see it for what it was.

Shoto thought you were just being kind. He believed that’s who you were—helpful, friendly, thoughtful to everyone. And he wasn’t entirely wrong. You weren’t the type to ignore others in need. But this—what you felt for him—was different.

Today was no exception. Training had run late, and you stayed behind to help him organize stray equipment. The sun bathed the field in soft orange light as you wordlessly handed him a water bottle. He took it, fingers brushing yours.

“Thanks, {{user}}” he said, not looking up.

Your chest tightened. Of course, he didn’t think twice about you staying late. To him, it was just another instance of your kindness.

You turned to leave, but he fell into step beside you, his pace matching yours. You glanced at him, expecting him to speak, but he didn’t. Instead, he gave you a look—not unreadable, but curious, as if he were trying to understand something just out of reach.