Todoroki Residence - Entrance
Tsubaki pushed open the front door, the familiar weight of home settling over him like a heavy blanket. He bent down, carefully removing his shoes and placing them in their designated spot.
The house was quiet. Empty. Just how he preferred it.
He'd left the hospital early that morning after a final check-up. The doctors had cleared him with warnings about taking it easy, about not pushing himself too hard too soon. Tsubaki had nodded, agreed to everything they said, and walked out the moment the paperwork was signed.
He hadn't gone to see his mother before leaving.
He couldn't. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
The living room was exactly as he remembered—pristine, cold, more like a display than a home. His eyes caught on a newspaper spread across the coffee table, its headline bold and attention-grabbing:
"UA HIGH SCHOOL UNDER FIRE AFTER VILLAIN ATTACK - SECURITY QUESTIONS RAISED"
Tsubaki picked it up, scanning the article. The media was having a field day with the USJ incident. Questions about how villains had breached UA's supposedly impenetrable security. Demands for answers from the school administration. Worried parents calling for increased protection measures.
'They're afraid,' Tsubaki thought, setting the paper back down. 'The Symbol of Peace teaches at UA, and villains still managed to attack. If students aren't safe there, where are they safe?'
He flipped to the next page, and another headline caught his attention:
"HERO KILLER STRIKES AGAIN - THIRD VICTIM CLAIMED IN HOSU CITY"
Tsubaki's eyes narrowed as he read. The Hero Killer—Stain, some were calling him. A vigilante who'd been making headlines for months now, systematically hunting down and murdering pro heroes he deemed "fake." His victim count was rising, and with each kill, his notoriety grew.
The article detailed his latest victim: a mid-level hero who'd operated primarily in Hosu City. Not particularly strong, not particularly famous, but still a licensed pro who'd been helping people.
Now dead.
'He hasn't targeted heroes who are known for their strength,' Tsubaki noted, reading through the sparse details available. Attacks them when they're alone, isolated. But information on him is limited—just glimpses, witness accounts that barely agree with each other. No one knows his quirk. No one knows what he really looks like.
'He's smart. Calculating. He'll keep killing until someone strong enough stops him.'
The article mentioned something else that made Tsubaki's lip curl in distaste: online cults had started forming around Stain. People who worshipped him, who believed his twisted ideology about "true heroes" versus "fakes." Forums dedicated to praising his actions, treating him like some kind of messiah.
'Fanatics,' Tsubaki thought, tossing the newspaper aside.' He'll get caught eventually. He will slip up, leave evidence, make a mistake. Villains always do.'
He walked through the house, his footsteps echoing in the silence. Past the training room Father had built. Past Shoto's room. Past the kitchen where Mother used to make tea.
His room was exactly as he'd left it—sparse, functional, more like a barracks than a bedroom. He changed out of his clothes, pulling on a simple training outfit. As he did, his phone buzzed.
A message from Momo.
Yaoyorozu: "Todoroki-san, I hope you're recovering well! The school wanted me to inform you that despite recent events, UA still plans to proceed with the Sports Festival as scheduled. They believe it's important to show the world that we're not afraid. Please rest and recover—we need our class president at full strength! Everyone is looking forward to seeing you back."
Tsubaki stared at the message for a long moment.
'The Sports Festival.'
'Of course they'd still hold it,' he thought, a smile tugging at his lips. 'UA can't show weakness. Can't let the villains think they've won. So they'll put us on display, show the world that their students are strong, that the school itself is unshakeable.'
'Perfect.'
The Sports Festival wasn't just a school event. It was broadcast worldwide. Heroes from across Japan—across the world—would be watching, scouting talent, assessing which students showed promise. It was the single biggest opportunity for a hero student to make a name for themselves.
'This is my stage,' Tsubaki realized, something igniting in his chest. 'The world will be watching. Every hero, every agency, every person who's ever doubted me.'
'This is where I announce myself. Where I show everyone that I exist. That I'm not just Shoto's brother or Endeavor's son. This is where I prove I'm going to be number one.'
He understood how the hero system worked. Rankings weren't just about strength—they were about popularity, public perception, results. All Might wasn't just the strongest hero in Japan; he was the most beloved. Stars and Stripes in America held the same position—overwhelming power combined with massive public support.
If Tsubaki wanted to truly reach the summit, to stand at the top where everyone would have to acknowledge him, he needed both. He needed to be strong enough that no one could deny his capability, and visible enough that no one could ignore his existence.
The Sports Festival would give him that visibility.But only if he was strong enough to back it up.
'My fight with Nomu showed me something,'Tsubaki thought, flexing his hands and feeling the phantom cold of his ice.' I've been holding back. Limiting myself. Focusing so much on control and precision that I never truly explored what my quirk could do at full power.'
'But during that fight, when I stopped thinking and just acted on instinct, something changed. My ice moved differently. Responded to my will in ways it never had before. I touched something—a level of power I didn't know I had.And that was just the surface.'
He looked at his hands, remembering the frost that had covered his body, the cold that had nearly killed him.
'In order to improve, to take my quirk to the next level, I need help. Real help. Not the school's generalized curriculum. I need someone who understands my power. Who can push me past my limits.'
'I need to do something I thought I'd never do again.'
Tsubaki walked out of his room, through the silent house, and stopped at the landline phone in the hallway. He stared at it for a long moment, his hand hovering over the receiver.
'Am I really doing this?'
He picked up the phone.
Dialed a number he hadn't called in years.
The phone rang once. Twice. Three times.
Then someone answered.
"Hello?"
The voice was older, but still strong. Still familiar despite the years.
Tsubaki took a breath. "Hey," he said, his voice carefully neutral. "I know this is unexpected, but... I need some help with something."
Training Room - Later
The training room was exactly as Father had designed it—brutal, efficient, designed to push bodies beyond their limits. Tsubaki stood in the center, dressed in simple workout clothes, no armor, no equipment beyond himself.
He wasn't doing quirk training. Not yet. That would come later, when he had proper guidance.
Right now, he needed to rebuild his foundation.
His body had survived the fight with Nomu, but barely. The hypothermia, the exhaustion, the sheer physical toll—he'd pushed himself to the absolute edge and beyond. Now he needed to ensure his body could handle that kind of strain without breaking.
He started with basics. Push-ups. Sit-ups. Squats. Movements that had been drilled into him since childhood, so ingrained they were almost second nature.
One. Two. Three.
His muscles protested—they were still recovering, still healing from the trauma he'd put them through. But pain was familiar. Pain was manageable.
Four. Five. Six.
As he worked, his mind drifted to the upcoming Sports Festival. To the stages he'd need to pass. To the opponents he'd face.
His classmates were strong. Bakugo had raw power and combat instinct. Midoriya had that mysterious quirk that seemed to grow stronger each time he used it. Tokoyami had Dark Shadow. Yaoyorozu had her Creation.
And Shoto...
'Shoto has everything Father wanted me to have,' Tsubaki thought, transitioning to one-armed push-ups. 'Perfect balance of ice and fire. Overwhelming power. The masterpiece.'
'But I have something he doesn't. I have nothing to lose and everything to prove.'
Sweat dripped onto the training room floor as he continued his workout. His breathing was controlled, measured, using the techniques he'd developed over years of solo training.
'The Sports Festival will have multiple stages just like previous years,' he thought, moving through exercises with mechanical precision.' Each stage will test different aspects of our abilities.'
'I need to be ready for all of it.'
'I need to be perfect.'
His phone buzzed again. More messages from classmates checking on him. Offers to visit. Well-wishes for his recovery.
He ignored them all.
'They mean well,' he acknowledged. 'But I can't afford distractions right now. The Sports Festival is in three weeks and I already spent half of the first week in the hospital the only good thing is that I'm only to school next week.'
'Three weeks to improve myself, to explore my quirk's new limits, to become strong enough that when I step onto that stage, everyone will have to acknowledge me.'
'Three weeks to transform from a ghost into someone impossible to ignore.'
Time passed. The sun shifted across the sky, casting changing shadows through the training room windows. Tsubaki pushed through sets, through exhaustion, through the voice in his head that told him to rest.
'Rest is for people who have time,' he thought grimly. 'I don't have that luxury.
I've wasted too much time already.'
Finally, as the afternoon light began to fade, he stopped. His body was trembling with exhaustion, his shirt soaked with sweat. But he felt centered. Focused.
Ready.
He grabbed a towel, wiping his face, and thought about the phone call he'd made earlier. About the person he'd reached out to after years of silence.
'That was the right choice,' he told himself. 'No matter how uncomfortable it feels. No matter what it costs me.'
'I'll do whatever it takes.'
'Because I'm going to win the Sports Festival.And I'm going to make everyone remember my name.'
Earlier - Unknown Location
In a different part of the city, the person Tsubaki had called sat in a modest living room, staring at their own phone with a complicated expression.
"After all this time," they murmured, their voice carrying notes of surprise, concern, and something that might have been hope.
"He finally reached out."
They stood, moving to a window that overlooked the city. Somewhere out there, their family was scattered—broken pieces of what should have been a whole.
"I wonder..." they said softly, "what made you call now, Tsubaki? What pushed you to reach out to me after all this time?"
They looked down at their hands— still capable and still strong.
"Well," they said with quiet determination, "if you're finally asking for help... I won't let you down. Not this time."
'Not like the others did.'
They picked up the phone again, already making plans, already thinking about what would need to happen next.
'The Sports Festival,' they thought. 'That's what this is about. He wants to prove himself on the world stage.'
"Good."
"It's about time someone in this family fought for what they wanted instead of what they were told to want."
A small smile crossed their face—sad, but genuine.
"I'll help you, Tsubaki. But on one condition."
They looked out at the setting sun, their reflection barely visible in the darkening glass.
"You have to promise me you'll remember why you wanted to be a hero in the first place. Not for recognition. Not for revenge. But for something worth protecting."
The phone sat silent in their hand, holding the echo of a conversation that would change everything.
In three weeks, the Sports Festival would begin.
And the world would finally learn the name:
Tsubaki Todoroki.
To Be Continued...
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Author's note
Hope you enjoyed the chapter
Leave a guess as to who you think Tsubaki called?
And if you enjoyed drop some power stones to show some love.