Shoto's POV
'From the moment I stepped onto this stage with Midoriya... everything changed.'
Shoto's heterochromatic eyes tracked Tsubaki's movements as they circled each other in the destroyed arena, both breathing heavily from their massive collision.
'Midoriya forced me to see it. To understand. These flames...'
He remembered Midoriya's broken body, the desperate screaming, the absolute conviction in those green eyes.
"IT'S YOUR POWER! NOT HIS! YOURS!"
'He was right. They're not Father's flames. They never were.'
Memories surfaced—old, buried deep, but suddenly crystal clear.
His mother's gentle voice. "When you and your brother become heroes, you should stick together. Support each other. You have each other's backs, okay?"
Her warm smile despite the pain in her eyes.
'These flames are mine. My quirk. My power. Given to me by Mother, not stolen by Father.'
The realization had settled during his fight with Midoriya, solidified now as he faced his brother.
'But understanding that doesn't solve everything. Doesn't fix what's broken.'
His eyes focused on Tsubaki across the crater, and he saw it clearly now the pain radiating from his brother like a physical presence. The hatred burning brighter than any flame.
'Tsubaki... what happened to you? What turned you into this?' Shoto's breathing steadied. His flames and ice settled into a ready state.
And then he asked the question that had been building since the match began.
"Tsubaki," Shoto's voice carried across the arena, clear despite the crowd's noise. "Why do you want to become a hero? Is it truly just for revenge?"
The Arena
The question hung in the air like a physical thing.
The crowd, which had been screaming moments before, quieted slightly, confused by the sudden shift.
"What's this?" Present Mic asked. "In the middle of this intense battle, Todoroki Shoto is asking about his brother's motivation?"
Tsubaki's eyes widened slightly, genuine surprise crossing his features for the first time since the match began.
'Why is he asking me this? Now? In the middle of our fight?' His ice constructs, which had been forming for another assault, slowed. Didn't stop, but hesitated.
Himura Residence
Yukihiro leaned forward in his chair, his weathered hands clasped together as he watched the exchange on screen.
'There it is,' he thought, his eyes sharp despite his age. 'The question I asked you days ago, Tsubaki. The one you couldn't answer then.'
He'd watched the fight unfold—seen Tsubaki's overwhelming power, his precise control, his absolute dominance.
'You haven't used your strongest techniques yet. You could have ended this fight several times already. So why haven't you?'
His eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
'Are you searching for something in this battle? An answer you couldn't find in training? In victory? What's stopping you?'
The Arena
The fight had slowed, both brothers standing across from each other, the destroyed arena between them.
"What does it have to do with you?" Tsubaki asked, his voice cold but carrying genuine confusion. "What does my motivation matter to you, Shoto?"
Shoto's flames flickered, then grew steadier. Hotter. "Because you're my brother," Shoto said, and something in his voice was different from before. Softer. More genuine. "And I can't let you keep fighting your hatred alone."
His flames intensified, heat radiating across the arena. The temperature began to rise not just warm, but scorching. The same level of heat he'd generated against Midoriya, the flames that had nearly melted the entire arena.
The crowd gasped as sweat began to form on nearby spectators despite the distance.
"TODOROKI SHOTO'S FLAMES ARE REACHING INCREDIBLE TEMPERATURES!" Present Mic announced. "THE SAME HEAT HE USED IN HIS CLASH WITH MIDORIYA!"
Class 1-A Section
"Those flames..." Kirishima breathed. "They're insane!"
"He's giving everything," Yaoyorozu said quietly. "Not just to win, but to reach Todoroki-san."
Bakugo's eyes were locked on the arena, his expression intense. 'Half-and-Half is trying to pull the same crap Deku did. Trying to save someone while fighting them.'
The Arena
Tsubaki could feel the heat washing over him, could see the determination in Shoto's eyes.
But it was Shoto's words that struck him.
"I can't let you keep fighting your hatred alone."
Fighting alone.
Something in Tsubaki's chest twisted, anger and pain and something else all mixing together into a toxic cocktail.
And then the temperature plummeted.
Not gradually. Not slowly.
It dropped like a stone thrown off a cliff.
The heat from Shoto's flames scorching, overwhelming met a wall of cold so absolute, so intense, that frost began forming in the air itself. The moisture in the atmosphere crystallized, creating a visible barrier between the brothers.
The crowd gasped, some crying out as the temperature shift hit them even in the stands.
"WHAT—WHAT IS THIS?!" Present Mic's voice cracked. "THE TEMPERATURE JUST DROPPED DRASTICALLY! IT'S LIKE HELL FROZE OVER!"
"Both brothers at their extremes," Aizawa said, his visible eye wide. "This is getting dangerous."
Tsubaki's blue eyes locked onto Shoto's, and the anger there was unmistakable. Raw. Burning with cold fury.
Shoto saw it and felt his heart clench. But he pressed on. "If you have that much anger," Shoto said, his voice steady despite the cold biting at his skin, "then don't hold back. Give me everything." His flames grew even hotter, pushing against the cold, his eyes determined.
"I'll take it all," Shoto continued, and despite the serious situation, a slight grin crossed his face the same fierce, competitive grin he'd worn when fighting Midoriya. "And I'll still win."
He remembered how Midoriya had helped him, how those desperate words and broken bones had freed him from his own cage.
'Midoriya saved me. How can I not try to help my brother? We're the same both trapped by Father, both carrying pain we didn't choose.'
But Shoto Was Wrong they weren't the same
Tsubaki's expression shifted.
He repeated Shoto's words slowly, his voice taking on an edge that made several people in the audience shiver despite the competing temperature extremes.
"You'll take it all?" Tsubaki asked. "You won't let me fight alone?"
A grin spread across Tsubaki's face cold, sharp, and absolutely terrifying.
The temperature around him dropped further. Ice began forming on the arena floor despite Shoto's flames. The cold was so intense it was almost painful, biting through clothes and skin and settling into bones.
Everyone could practically feel it the cold radiating from Tsubaki like a physical presence, overwhelming even Shoto's intense heat.
In the Stands
Endeavor's eyes were fixed on Tsubaki, not Shoto.
His flames flickered uncertainly, his turquoise eyes wide with something that might have been recognition or fear.
'That level of cold... that's beyond what he showed in any previous match. What is he—'
His thoughts cut off as he felt it—a presence, a power building that made his instincts scream danger.
Todoroki Household
"Something's wrong," Natsuo said, his voice tight with concern. "Tsubaki looks... he looks like he's going to do something extreme."
Fuyumi's hands were pressed to her mouth, tears streaming down her face. "Please, please stop. Both of you, just stop."
Mental Hospital
"My boys," Rei whispered, her eyes locked on the screen. "Tsubaki, what are you planning? That look in your eyes..."
The Arena
"You truly don't understand, do you, Shoto?" Tsubaki's voice cut through the cold, each word deliberate and sharp.
The grin faded, replaced by something colder. More honest. "I've been fighting alone my entire life. Since I was five years old and Father threw me aside. Since Mother's breakdown. Since everyone forgot I existed."
His blue eyes blazed despite the cold.
"What would you know about fighting alone? You had Father's attention—even if it was brutal, it was attention. You had Mother's concern. You had people who saw you, who acknowledged your existence."
The temperature dropped further.
"And this—me beating you here—it's not just about revenge on Father."
Tsubaki looked his brother directly in the eyes, and Shoto felt something in his chest freeze at the intensity there.
"This is a beating that's been long coming. Because you seem to have forgotten all the things you said before your so-called revelation."
His voice grew harder, colder.
"How you said my life was easy. How you called me weaker than you. How you looked at me like I was nothing—just like Father did."
The ice around Tsubaki stopped melting. The air itself seemed to crystallize, frost spreading across surfaces despite Shoto's flames.
"So if you want to get beaten that badly," Tsubaki said, his voice dropping to something dangerous, "I won't tell you otherwise."
Tsubaki's stance shifted. His breathing slowed. His eyes closed for just a moment.
'This move... the one I couldn't master back then. The one I developed before U.A. but could never complete.'
His eyes opened, and they were absolutely certain. 'I can do it now. After all the training. After everything.'
The temperature plummeted even further. Frost began forming on the spectators in the front rows. Cementoss was already raising walls, his expression alarmed.
"MIDNIGHT!" Cementoss shouted. "THEY'RE GOING TO KILL EACH OTHER! WE NEED TO STOP THIS!"
Midnight raised her whip, ready to intervene.
Shoto felt the temperature drop and understood what was coming.
'He's preparing something big. A finishing move.'
His flames concentrated, heat building to levels that made the air shimmer. He planted his feet, standing his ground.
'I won't run. I'll face this head-on.'
But even as he prepared, he tried one more time.
"Tsubaki, remember what Mother said? When we were young, before everything fell apart?" Shoto's voice carried across the cold. "She told us that when we become heroes, we should stick together. Support each other. Have each other's backs."
For just a moment, something flickered in Tsubaki's eyes. 'I remember,' Tsubaki thought. 'I remember her saying that. Remember believing it.'
But then the anger returned, sharper than before.
'But that was before. Before she broke. Before everyone forgot about me. Before I learned that words mean nothing without action to back them up.'
"I hope you're ready, Shoto," Tsubaki said, his voice carrying across the arena with absolute finality.
The cold intensified one final time, and everyone in the stadium could feel it a presence, a power that made their skin crawl with instinctive fear.
"Because you're about to see the depths of hell."
His hands moved into position, ice forming around them in complex patterns.
"And this move you won't walk away from it."
The temperature was so low now that Shoto's flames were struggling to maintain their heat. Frost was forming on his costume despite the fire radiating from his left side.
But Shoto stood firm, concentrating his flames to their absolute maximum, trying to generate enough heat to counter what was coming.
'I can do this. I can face this. I won't back down.'
The Todoroki Family
Every member of the family—Endeavor in the stands, Fuyumi and Natsuo at home, Rei in the hospital—felt their hearts stop as they watched.
They could all see it. Both brothers pushing themselves to their absolute limits. Both refusing to back down. Both carrying so much pain that this clash felt inevitable, necessary, like a storm that had been building for years.
The Stadium
"Something big is coming!" Present Mic shouted, his voice higher than usual with concern. "Both Todoroki brothers are preparing massive attacks!"
"The temperature fluctuations are extreme," Aizawa said, his voice tight. "Scorching heat from Shoto, absolute cold from Tsubaki. When they collide..."
Cementoss was creating wall after wall, barrier after barrier. "MIDNIGHT, BE READY!"
Tsubaki's technique—the one he'd spent years developing, the one he'd finally mastered during his training with Yukihiro—crystallized in his mind.
'Arctic Judgement. The technique that condenses all my cold into a single, devastating beam. The move that shows why my quirk is called Absolute Zero.'
His voice rang out across the arena, clear and absolute.
"It's time to prove everyone wrong."
His eyes locked onto Shoto's.
"After this, the world will remember my name."
And he released it.
"Arctic Judgement"
A beam of pure, condensed cold erupted from Tsubaki's hands.
It wasn't ice in the traditional sense it was the concept of cold itself, compressed and weaponized. The air itself froze in its path, creating a visible tunnel of absolute zero temperature.
The beam shot forward with devastating speed.
It tore through Cementoss's barriers like they weren't there, the concrete freezing and shattering on contact.
Shoto saw it coming and released everything he had. Flames hotter than he'd ever generated, concentrated into a single point, the same technique he'd used against Midoriya but pushed even further.
"TODOROKI SHOTO RESPONDS WITH HIS MAXIMUM FLAMES!" Present Mic screamed.
The attacks met in the center of the arena.
For a single second, they clashed heat meeting cold, fire meeting ice, two brothers' absolute powers colliding.
The explosion was catastrophic. Steam erupted in all directions. The shockwave shattered windows throughout the stadium. The ground beneath them cracked and split.
And then—
The ice went through the fire.
Shoto's eyes widened in shock as he saw his flames, his strongest attack, his everything parted like a curtain before Tsubaki's beam.
The last thing he saw was his brother's grin.
Then the cold hit him.
BOOM.
The collision of techniques created a cloud of frost so thick it obscured the entire arena. Ice crystals filled the air, creating a fog that made it impossible to see what had happened.
The stadium fell silent, everyone holding their breath. "WHO WON?!" Present Mic's voice was desperate. "WE CAN'T SEE ANYTHING!"
Slowly, the frost began to clear.
A figure became visible through the mist.
Standing. Breathing hard. Grinning.
Tsubaki.
And as the frost cleared further, the crowd collectively gasped.
The arena looked like the inside of a glacier.
Ice covered everything the ground, the walls, the barriers Cementoss had erected. But the most shocking sight was at the center.
Shoto stood frozen in a prison of ice.
Not completely his head was free, his face visible. But everything else was encased in a spiky, crystalline prison that looked like it belonged in the arctic, not a sports stadium. The ice spread out from him in jagged formations, creating a terrifying sculpture of frozen power.
Shoto's eyes were open but unfocused, his lips blue, his body shivering violently despite the flames he'd been generating moments before. Ice crystals covered his eyelashes, his hair. He looked moments away from hypothermia.
The stadium was absolutely silent.
Then Tsubaki spoke, his voice carrying clearly despite the shocked quiet.
"I guess I win."
Midnight stared at the scene, her expression a mix of shock and professional concern.
Then she raised her whip.
"TODOROKI SHOTO IS IMMOBILIZED!" Her voice was shaking slightly. "THE WINNER IS TODOROKI TSUBAKI! HE ADVANCES TO THE FINALS!"
The crowd erupted some cheering, some crying out in shock, all absolutely stunned by what they'd just witnessed.
"WHAT POWER!" Present Mic's voice was barely coherent. "TODOROKI TSUBAKI WINS WITH AN ABSOLUTELY DEVASTATING TECHNIQUE! I'VE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING LIKE THAT!"
"That wasn't just a victory," Aizawa said quietly, his visible eye wide. "That was a statement."
Medical personnel rushed onto the field, but they couldn't reach Shoto the ice prison was too thick, too cold.
Tsubaki moved his hand, and the ice shattered.
Not melted. Shattered. Breaking apart into countless fragments that dissolved into mist.
Shoto collapsed immediately, his body having been held upright only by the ice. The medics caught him, wrapping him in thermal blankets, checking his vitals with expressions of alarm.
And then another figure landed on the arena floor.
Flames erupted, washing over Shoto with carefully controlled heat.
Endeavor had jumped from the stands, his entire focus on his son. His flames worked to raise Shoto's body temperature, to counter the hypothermia setting in.
"Shoto," Endeavor's voice was tight, concerned despite himself. "Shoto, can you hear me?"
Shoto's eyes flickered, barely conscious, his body shaking violently.
For a moment, Tsubaki and Endeavor's eyes met.
Father and son. The discarded failure and the man who'd thrown him away.
In that single look, everything was said.
Tsubaki stood as the victor, unmarked, powerful, absolutely dominant.
Endeavor knelt beside Shoto's broken, frozen form, picking up the pieces of his masterpiece.
The message was clear, brutal, undeniable.
You threw me away. Called me a failure. And now I've destroyed your perfect creation. Your dreams lie frozen at my feet.
Endeavor's flames burned brighter, but his eyes... his eyes showed something Tsubaki had never seen before.
Recognition. Acknowledgment. And something that might have been regret.
But Tsubaki turned away, walking toward the exit tunnel without another word.
The battle was over.
He had won.
And the world would never forget it.
To Be Continued...