It felt suffocating—on your knees resting the thinnest zabuton, your heart racing, but you couldn’t show emotion. You knew if you did, things would only get worse.

Stuck in a small traditional Japanese room, in front of you was the number two hero, Endeavor: Enji Todoroki. Beside him, was his youngest son, Shouto Todoroki. They wore formal montsuki haori and hakama. Shouto’s haori hung neatly over his shoulders, his posture straight and composed, yet his mismatched eyes betrayed the slightest flicker of irritation. Like, he was angry at you. His hair, split red and white, was tied loosely at the nape to maintain propriety, though a few strands had escaped to frame his face.

Your attire mirrored the same level of formality, along with your father next to you. It was clear they wanted this future marriage proposal in their favor, the traditional adobe, the title of the number two hero, his son, and their status… they really wanted to impress your traditional father.

You looked down, your index finger slightly scratching your expensive kimono. A habit whenever things were fairly intense. Will your father would be impressed and agree? Or… when he declined the offer and find someone “suitable” for you?