Unknown - Barely Conscious
'Cold.'
That was the first thing Tsubaki was aware of. Not pain—his body had moved beyond pain into a numb void where sensation meant nothing. Just cold. Deep, bone-deep cold that felt like it had always been there and would never leave.
'Am I dead?'
The thought drifted through his mind without urgency. It felt... possible. Likely, even.
But then—sound.
Distant. Muffled. Like hearing through water or thick glass.
BOOM
An impact. Massive. The ground beneath him shook.
BOOM
Another. And another. Rhythmic. Powerful.
'Are they still fighting?'
His mind struggled to form coherent thoughts. Everything was foggy, disconnected. He tried to move—couldn't. Tried to open his eyes—couldn't. His body was a foreign thing, separated from his consciousness by miles of frozen distance.
"—temperature is dropping—!"
A voice. Female. High-pitched with panic.
"—we need to get him warm—!"
Another voice. Different. Desperate.
"—can't move him yet, All Might is still—"
'All Might. The name cut through the fog slightly. He came. He's fighting. That means...'
BOOM
The impacts continued. Each one sent vibrations through the ground, through his unresponsive body.
'They're still alive. My classmates. The teachers.'
The thought brought something that might have been relief, if he could feel anything beyond the cold.
"Todoroki-san!" A familiar voice, closer now. Cracking with emotion. "Ribbit, his lips are turning blue! We need to—"
"I know!" Another voice, strained. "But what can we do?! We can't warm him up without—"
The voices faded in and out. Tsubaki tried to focus on them, tried to hold onto consciousness, but it was like grasping at smoke.
'I'm tired,' he thought distantly. 'So tired. When did I get this tired?'
'Maybe... maybe I should just...'
Then—warmth.
Sudden. Overwhelming. Like standing too close to a bonfire after being trapped in a blizzard.
It hurt. The warmth hurt, shocking his frozen nerves back to painful life. But beneath the pain was something else. Something that felt like salvation.
"—BAKI! TSUBAKI!"
A voice was shouting his name. Loud. Urgent. But also... familiar in a way that tugged at something deep in his fading consciousness.
He tried to focus on it. Tried to pull himself back from the darkness that was pulling him down.
"—hear me?! Don't you dare—"
The voice sharpened slightly. Female. Worried. No—terrified.
That voice... I know that voice...
"Todoroki-kun! Please!"
'Momo?'
"Don't you die."
A different voice. Male. Cold. But underneath that coldness was something raw, something almost desperate.
'That sounds like... Shoto?
But that didn't make sense. Shoto wouldn't—why would he—'
The warmth intensified. The pain with it. But Tsubaki's mind was slipping, consciousness fading like sand through fingers.
'Did everyone... survive?'
The question drifted through his mind as darkness finally claimed him completely.
'Did I... do enough?'
And then there was nothing.
USJ - Central Plaza (Minutes Earlier) -
Shoto's POV
Shoto moved away from the warp gate that Kurogiri had created, the one meant to separate him and the rest from All Might. But the Symbol of Peace had grabbed him at the last second, using Shoto's ice to freeze the warp villain and create an escape route.
All Might had immediately engaged the Nomu, their clash sending shockwaves across the entire facility. The raw power on display was staggering—this was the Symbol of Peace at full strength, and even then, the creature was matching him blow for blow.
"Students!" All Might's voice boomed even as he traded devastating punches with Nomu. "Get to safety with the others! This is beyond what students should face!"
Shoto wanted to argue, wanted to help, but he knew the truth—in a battle at this level, he'd only be in the way. So he ran, using his ice to create a path toward the entrance where he could see his classmates gathered.
And that's when he saw him.
A body on the ground. White hair matted with frost. Blue and black armor covered in ice. Completely motionless.
Tsubaki.
Shoto's feet carried him forward before his mind could fully process what he was seeing. His classmates parted as he approached, their faces pale with shock and fear.
Shoji and Asui were kneeling beside his brother's unconscious form. Tsubaki's skin had taken on a bluish tint, his lips nearly purple. Frost covered so much of his body he looked like a statue carved from ice.
"His temperature is too low!" Asui's voice was panicked, her usual calm completely shattered. "Ribbit, we need to warm him up, but we don't have anything—"
"Move," Shoto said, his voice flat but his hands already moving.
He dropped to his knees beside his brother—his brother, whom he'd barely spoken to during the years, whom their father had kept separate, whom Shoto had viewed more as competition than family.
'What happened to him? What did he do?'
The questions could wait. Right now, Tsubaki was dying.
And without thinking, without hesitation, Shoto broke the vow he'd made years ago.
His left side erupted with flames.
Heat poured from his body in controlled waves, carefully directed toward Tsubaki's frozen form. Not too hot—he couldn't risk thermal shock. But enough to start reversing the hypothermia that should have killed him already.
'How is he still alive?' Shoto thought with something between awe and horror. 'His body temperature—no one should survive this. No one.'
'What were you fighting? What could have pushed you this far?'
"Todoroki-san!" Yaoyorozu's voice cut through his focus.
Shoto looked up briefly. Yaoyorozu was running toward them, Jiro and Kaminari close behind. They must have finished dealing with villains in their zone and been drawn by the sounds of All Might's battle.
When Yaoyorozu saw Tsubaki's condition, her face went white.
"Todoroki-kun!" She practically threw herself down beside them, her hands hovering over Tsubaki's frost-covered form as if afraid to touch him. "What happened?! Is he—is he—"
"He's alive," Shoto said, his flames intensifying slightly. "Barely. But alive."
He didn't mention how close it was. How Tsubaki's pulse was so weak Shoto could barely feel it. How his breathing was so shallow it was nearly imperceptible.
'You idiot,' Shoto thought, something complicated churning in his chest. 'What were you thinking? Fighting in your condition? You could have died. You nearly did die.'
From the plaza, another massive impact. Shoto glanced over to see All Might deliver a punch that sent Nomu flying—actually flying—through the USJ's dome ceiling and out of sight.
The students at the entrance erupted in cheers and relieved cries.
But Shoto's attention snapped back to his brother when Tsubaki made a sound—a weak, pained groan that barely qualified as conscious.
"TODOROKI-KUN!" Yaoyorozu leaned closer, her voice cracking with emotion. "Can you hear me?! Please, you have to—"
"Don't you die," Shoto said, and his own voice came out rougher than intended. The flames on his left side flared hotter for a moment before he consciously dialed them back. "Don't you dare die."
'I haven't beaten you yet. Haven't proven my path is right. You can't die before I—
Before we—'
Tsubaki's eyes fluttered—just for a moment—then closed again as he lost consciousness completely.
But Shoto had felt it. The slight warming of his brother's skin. The pulse growing marginally stronger. The breathing deepening just a fraction.
'He's fighting. Even unconscious, he's still fighting to survive.'
The sound of approaching vehicles broke through his focus. Emergency sirens. Multiple vehicles.
"The teachers!" Iida's voice called out. "The pro heroes have arrived!"
Shoto maintained his flames, keeping Tsubaki warm as teachers and medical personnel rushed into the facility. Recovery Girl was among them, her face grave as she took in the scene.
"Aizawa! Thirteen!" She immediately began triaging. "Get them to the ambulances immediately! And that boy—" Her eyes landed on Tsubaki. "—what happened to him?!"
"Severe hypothermia," Shoto said, his voice clinical even as his flames continued to warm his brother. "Self-inflicted from quirk overuse. I've been warming him with my fire, but his core temperature is critically low."
Recovery Girl moved to Tsubaki's side, her experienced hands checking pulse, breathing, pupil response. Her expression grew even more serious.
"Good work keeping him warm. That probably saved his life." She looked at the paramedics. "Get him on a gurney now. We need to get his temperature up gradually or we risk cardiac arrest. Move!"
The medical team descended, carefully transferring Tsubaki to a stretcher. Shoto's flames stayed active until the last possible moment, only cutting off when they physically moved his brother away.
Yaoyorozu stood beside him, tears streaming down her face as she watched them carry Tsubaki toward the waiting ambulances.
"He saved us," she whispered. "He fought that monster alone to protect us. He almost died..."
"But he didn't," Shoto said, watching the ambulance doors close with his brother inside. "He's stronger than that."
'Stronger than I thought, he added silently. Stronger than Father ever gave him credit for. Too think that's what he fought a monster that pushed All Might.'
The ambulances pulled away, sirens wailing.
And Shoto stood there, his left side still warm from the flames he'd used—flames he'd sworn never to use—to save his brother's life.
'Why did I do that?' he wondered.' Why did I break my vow for him?'
But deep down, he knew the answer.
Because despite everything—despite the distance, despite the competition, despite the tension—
Tsubaki was still his brother.
Hospital - Three Days Later
Consciousness returned slowly.
Not all at once, but in gradual layers—like surfacing from deep water, each moment bringing him closer to awareness.
First, sensation. Warmth. Not the burning cold of frostbite, but gentle warmth. Soft fabric against his skin. The weight of blankets.
Then, sound. Beeping. Rhythmic and steady. Medical equipment. Muffled voices in the distance.
Then, smell. Antiseptic. Clean. Sterile. Hospital.
'I'm alive.'
The realization came with surprise. He'd been certain—absolutely certain—that he would die in that plaza. That his last moments would be kneeling before that monster, unable to move, unable to fight, unable to do anything but accept his end.
But he was alive.
Tsubaki tried to open his eyes. His eyelids felt heavy, weighted, but after a moment of effort they cracked open.
White ceiling. Fluorescent lights turned low. Generic hospital room.
He tried to move—
Arms wrapped around him so suddenly and tightly that what little breath he had was driven from his lungs.
"TSUBAKI!"
The voice was choked with tears, muffled against his hospital gown. But he recognized it instantly.
"Fuyumi?" His voice came out as a croak, rough from disuse.
His sister's arms tightened even more, and he felt wetness against his shoulder as she sobbed openly.
"You're awake! You're finally awake! I was so worried—we all were—and the doctors said you might not—that your body had—" Her words dissolved into incoherent crying.
Tsubaki's mind was still foggy, struggling to process everything. He tried to lift his arm to maybe pat her back, offer some comfort, but his limbs felt sluggish.
"Fuyumi," a different voice said gently. "Let him breathe. He just woke up."
Tsubaki's eyes tracked to the source. A young man with white hair like their mother's, and kind eyes that held concern rather than the usual indifference.
"Natsuo?" Tsubaki managed.
"Hey, little brother." Natsuo offered a small smile that didn't quite reach his worried eyes. "Welcome back to the land of the living."
Fuyumi finally pulled back slightly, though her hands remained on his shoulders as if afraid he'd disappear if she let go completely. Her eyes red and swollen from crying.
"What... happened?" Tsubaki's voice was getting slightly stronger, though speaking still took effort.
"What happened?!" Fuyumi's voice rose, somewhere between relief and anger. "You almost died, that's what happened! We heard about the villain attack and rushed to the hospital as soon as we found out you'd be brought here! And then the doctors said—they said—"
She broke down crying again.
"Your body temperature was so low it should have been fatal," Natsuo explained quietly, his expression serious. "The doctors said it was a miracle you survived the fight at all. Most people would have gone into cardiac arrest from hypothermia long before you finally collapsed."
"Shoto..." Fuyumi managed through her tears. "Shoto used his flames to warm you up before the medics arrived. The doctors said that probably saved your life. That if he hadn't acted when he did, you would have..."
She couldn't finish the sentence.
'Shoto saved me? The information took a moment to process. He used his flames? But he swore never to use them. He hates that side of his power because it comes from Father.But he used it anyway. For me.'
Something complicated stirred in Tsubaki's chest—gratitude, confusion, and an emotion he couldn't quite name.
"Is everyone... okay?" Tsubaki asked, the question that had been weighing on him since consciousness returned. "My classmates? Aizawa-sensei? Thirteen?"
"Everyone survived," Natsuo assured him. "Your teacher—Aizawa—he's still recovering from his injuries, but he'll pull through.
Thirteen too. And your classmates..." He smiled slightly. "They've been asking about you constantly. The school had to limit visits because so many people wanted to check on you."
Relief flooded through Tsubaki so intensely it was almost physical. They'd survived. All of them. His desperate stand hadn't been in vain.
"You've been unconscious for three days," Fuyumi said, finally regaining some composure though tears still streaked her face. "The doctors said your body was in shock from the extreme cold and exhaustion. They weren't sure when—or if—you'd wake up."
Three days. He'd been unconscious for three days.
"Fuyumi looked so worried I decided I needed to come along," Natsuo added. "Haven't seen her this upset since... well. In a long time."
Tsubaki looked at his older brother, though they'd barely spoken over the years. Natsuo had his own complicated feelings about their father, his own reasons for keeping distance from the family drama. They'd existed in the same house like distant acquaintances rather than siblings.
But he was here now.
"Thank you," Tsubaki said quietly. "For coming."
"You're our brother," Natsuo replied simply. "Where else would we be?"
Fuyumi squeezed his hand gently. "We were so scared. When we heard what happened, that you'd fought some kind of monster to protect your classmates, that you'd nearly frozen yourself to death..." Fresh tears welled up. "I kept thinking, what if we lost you? What if you never woke up?"
'Would it have mattered? The thought came unbidden. I was always the after thought.'
"I'm sorry," Tsubaki said, though he wasn't entirely sure what he was apologizing for. For worrying them? For nearly dying? For existing in a way that caused them pain?
"Don't apologize," Natsuo said firmly. "You were protecting people. Being a hero. That's nothing to be sorry for."
A moment of silence fell, weighted with things unsaid.
Then Fuyumi's expression shifted, becoming sadder, more hesitant. Her hands fidgeted with the edge of his blanket.
"Tsubaki... I need to tell you something." She took a breath, and her voice became smaller. "Father... he didn't come."
Natsuo's expression darkened immediately, his jaw clenching. His hands curled into fists at his sides.
"He said he couldn't leave work," Fuyumi continued, her voice trembling slightly. "That he had... responsibilities. Even though you were in the hospital. Even though you almost died. Even though—" Her voice broke. "I called him. I told him you might not wake up. And he still—"
She looked devastated—not for herself, but for her younger brother who'd nearly lost his life and whose father couldn't be bothered to visit.
"Of course he didn't," Natsuo's voice was bitter, sharp with old anger. "He's too busy being the number two hero to care about his actual children. Too focused on his perfect masterpiece Shoto to give a damn about the rest of us."
"Natsuo," Fuyumi warned quietly, but there was no real conviction in it. She looked just as hurt as he sounded angry.
But Tsubaki barely reacted.
His expression didn't change. Didn't harden with anger or soften with hurt. It remained perfectly neutral, almost empty.
"I see," was all he said.
Just two words. Flat. Emotionless. Like he was commenting on the weather rather than his father's absence during what should have been a critical moment.
The lack of reaction was somehow worse than if he'd screamed or cried or shown any emotion at all.
Fuyumi and Natsuo exchanged worried glances. They'd expected... something. Anger, maybe. Hurt. Sadness. Disappointment. But this hollow acceptance, this complete lack of surprise or emotion—it was disturbing in a way they couldn't quite articulate.
"Tsubaki..." Fuyumi started, reaching for his hand again. "It's okay to be upset. You almost died, and he should have been here. You have every right to be angry—"
"I'm not angry," Tsubaki interrupted gently. And it was true. He wasn't angry. Anger required expectation, required believing things should be different.
He'd stopped expecting anything from their father years ago.
'Why would this be any different?' he thought distantly.' I nearly died protecting people, and he doesn't care. Just like he didn't care when I pushed myself to exhaustion in training. Just like he didn't care when I scored highest in the entrance exam. Just like he's never cared about anything I've done.'
'Because I'm not Shoto. I'm not the masterpiece. I'm just... the failure. If I want to prove him wrong to make him regret not caring the only way to do that is to be number 1.'
But he didn't say any of that. Didn't see the point.
"Tsubaki..." Fuyumi's voice was thick with unshed tears. She looked like she wanted to say more, to somehow make it better, but what could she say? They all knew the truth of their family.
Natsuo's expression was stormy, his fists still clenched. "He's a bastard. Always has been, always will be. Don't let him—"
But before he could finish, the hospital room door opened.
All three siblings looked toward the entrance.
And Tsubaki's entire body froze—not from ice, not from his quirk, but from sheer shock at who stood in the doorway.
She looked older. Thinner than he remembered from his childhood. Her white hair, so similar to his own, was longer now, pulled back in a simple style. There were lines on her face that hadn't been there before—worry lines, pain lines, the marks of years spent in a hospital.
But her eyes—those gentle, kind eyes—were the same.
Those eyes that used to look at Shoto with such worry and love. Those eyes that had been so focused on his younger brother, on protecting Shoto from Father's increasingly harsh training, that they'd rarely had time to look at anyone else.
Those eyes that Tsubaki remembered watching his mother check on Shoto late at night, but never checking on him. That remembered her comforting Shoto after training sessions, but having no comfort left for anyone else.
Those eyes that had been there the night she'd had her breakdown, when she'd poured boiling water on Shoto's face because she couldn't bear to look at his left side anymore. When she'd been taken away to the hospital.
The last time he'd seen her.
Years ago. He'd been so young. And she'd been so broken.
And now she was here.
Tsubaki's mouth opened. His throat worked, trying to form words that wouldn't come. A thousand thoughts and feelings crashed through him at once—memories of childhood, of feeling invisible, of watching his mother worry over Shoto while barely seeming to notice him. Memories of the day she left, of the silence that followed.
Finally, barely more than a whisper, he managed:
"Mom?"
Rei Todoroki stood in the doorway, her hands clasped together tightly, her eyes already glistening with unshed tears as she looked at her son—her eldest twin, whom she hadn't seen in years.
The son she'd failed. The son she'd been too consumed with protecting Shoto to properly see. The son who'd been just as much a victim of their family's dysfunction but had been left to deal with it alone.
"Tsubaki," she whispered, his name trembling on her lips.
To Be Continued...
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Author's note:
Hope you enjoyed the chapter
I know people wanted to see more emotion and as I said it would come in time and now you got what you wanted emotion.
If you are still enjoying reading leave some power stones to show support.