Morning - Path to U.A.
Tsubaki walked through the streets, his backpack slung over one shoulder, the morning sun warm on his face. The city was alive with its usual morning energy salarymen rushing to work, students chatting as they headed to school, the distant sound of traffic creating a familiar urban symphony.
But something was different today.
"Excuse me!" A middle-aged woman approached him hesitantly, her phone in hand. "You're... you're the student who won the Sports Festival, aren't you? Todoroki Tsubaki?"
Tsubaki stopped, surprised. "I am."
Her face lit up. "Could I get your autograph? My son watched the entire festival—he wants to be a hero too, and your ice quirk was amazing!"
"Of course," Tsubaki said, taking the paper and pen she offered.
As he signed his name, more people began to notice him. A group of elementary school kids pointed and whispered excitedly. A businessman nodded respectfully as he passed. A girl around his age blushed and quickly looked away when he met her eyes.
People are seeing him. Acknowledging his existence. Remembering his name.
Tsubaki handed the autograph back and continued walking, and he couldn't stop the small smile that crossed his face. His body felt lighter than it had in years like a weight he'd been carrying since childhood had finally been lifted from his shoulders.
'This is what I wanted,' he thought, his blue eyes distant but satisfied. 'To be seen. To be recognized. To prove I'm not a failure.'
Todoroki Household - Earlier That Morning
The tension in the Todoroki house had been suffocating ever since the Sports Festival ended.
After ensuring Shoto had recovered completely from his hypothermia Recovery Girl's healing supplemented by Endeavor's flames raising his body temperature back to normal their father had left for work. He hadn't returned home since that moment in the arena where Tsubaki's eyes had met his across Shoto's frozen form.
Tsubaki had barely interacted with his family since returning home. A few polite words with Fuyumi. Nods to Natsuo. Complete silence with Shoto.
The brothers existed in the same house like ghosts, aware of each other but never quite occupying the same space.
'He went to visit Mother,' Tsubaki had overheard Fuyumi telling Natsuo. 'Said he needed to talk to her about the festival. About his quirk.'
Tsubaki's feelings about that were...
complicated. Part of him was glad Shoto was reaching out to their mother. Another part didn't know what to feel his mother was a complex topic.
'But that's family drama for another day,' Tsubaki decided, pushing the thoughts aside. 'Right now, I'm going to enjoy this moment. This victory. Before dealing with everything else.'
Flashback - After the Festival
"OI! ICE PRINCE!"
Tsubaki had been leaving the stadium when Bakugo's voice cut through the crowd noise. He'd turned to find the explosive blonde stalking toward him, his second-place medal still around his neck, his expression thunderous.
"What is it, Bakugo?"
"Don't give me that calm crap," Bakugo snarled, stopping directly in front of him. "I lost today. Fine. I can admit that. But next time—NEXT TIME—I'm gonna win. You got that?"
His red eyes blazed with absolute certainty.
"I'm gonna be Number One. And that means beating you when we face off again."
Tsubaki had met his glare with cold calm.
"When we face off again," he'd said quietly, "I still plan to win."
For a moment, they'd stood there two rivals, both absolutely certain in their own victory.
Then Bakugo had grinned sharp and feral and genuinely excited.
"Good. That's what I wanted to hear. No point in beating someone who's already given up."
He'd turned and walked away, but called back over his shoulder.
"Train hard, Ice Prince. Because I'm coming for that first place spot!"
And just like that, a rivalry had been born.
More Flashbacks
Yaoyorozu had approached him after the ceremony, her expression warm despite her own loss.
"Todoroki-san, congratulations. You were incredible out there."
"Thank you, Yaoyorozu. You fought well too."
"I... I have a lot to improve on," she'd said quietly, her hands clasping together. "But watching you and the others showed me what real strength looks like. I'll work harder."
Kirishima had practically tackled him with enthusiasm.
"DUDE! That final match was so MANLY! The way you kept your cool even when Bakugo was going all out! That's the kind of hero I want to be!"
Even Tokoyami had given him a respectful nod.
"Your victory was well-earned, Todoroki-san."
Mina had bounced over, her usual energy slightly subdued but still present.
"Thanks for what you said after our match, Todoroki-san. About walking with pride. I... I needed to hear that."
The congratulations had continued—genuine, warm, acknowledging his achievement.
UA Gates - Present
Tsubaki reached the gates of UA, the massive "UA" letters gleaming in the morning sun. He walked through them with steady, confident steps.
'I've come far from where I started,' he thought, his eyes tracking across the familiar campus. 'From the entrance exam to now. From being invisible to being recognized.'
His mind drifted to another memory visiting his grandfather after the festival.
Flashback - Himura Residence
Yukihiro had been waiting in his training room when Tsubaki arrived, tea already prepared.
"Congratulations," the old man had said, his weathered face showing genuine pride. "You achieved what you set out to do. First place in every event. Complete victory."
"Thank you, Grandfather. Your training made the difference."
Yukihiro had poured tea for both of them, his movements precise despite his age.
"Don't think you're at the top yet," he'd said, his eyes sharp. "You won the Sports Festival. That's an achievement. But it's just one step. You still have more to do. More to prove. More to accomplish."
Tsubaki had accepted the tea, nodding seriously.
"I understand. Thank you."
Yukihiro had studied his grandson's face for a long moment, seeing something there that made him nod with satisfaction.
'After the fight with Shoto, his shoulders became lighter,' Yukihiro had thought. 'He proved to Endeavor—and more importantly, to himself—that he wasn't second to anyone. Wasn't a failure. That weight he'd been carrying since childhood... it's finally eased.'
But aloud, he'd simply said "Good. Then keep training. Keep growing. The world is watching you now. Make sure they continue to see something worth watching."
Class 1-A
Tsubaki reached the classroom door and walked in, heading to his seat near the window. The room was already filling with students, their voices creating an excited buzz.
"Did you see how many people were talking about the festival?!"
"My parents called like ten times to congratulate me!"
"I got recognized on the train this morning!"
Tsubaki sat down, setting his bag beside his desk. The morning light filtered through the window, and he allowed himself a moment of quiet satisfaction.
Yaoyorozu approached, sliding into the seat beside him with a warm smile.
"Good morning, Todoroki-san. How are you feeling after the festival?"
"Good morning, Yaoyorozu. I'm well, thank you. And you?"
"Better than I expected," she admitted. "I've been thinking a lot about my performance. About what I need to improve."
They talked for a few minutes comfortable conversation between class president and vice president. But Yaoyorozu found herself noticing something different about Tsubaki today.
He smiled more. Not his usual cold, controlled expression, but genuine small smiles that reached his eyes. His posture was still perfect, still composed, but somehow less rigid. Like something inside him had finally relaxed.
"Todoroki-san," she said carefully, "you seem... different today. In a good way."
Tsubaki glanced at her, surprised. "Do I?"
"You do. You seem... lighter, somehow."
He considered that, then nodded slightly. "I suppose I am. The festival gave me something I'd been seeking for a long time."
Before Yaoyorozu could ask what he meant, the classroom door slid open with force.
Aizawa walked in, looking as exhausted as ever despite having had time to recover. His bandages were finally removed, though his face still showed the healing scars from the USJ incident.
"Sit down," he said flatly, and the class immediately scrambled to their seats.
The usual morning chaos died instantly.
"Good work with the Sports Festival," Aizawa said, his visible eye scanning the classroom. "Your performances have been noted. By the public, by other heroes, and most importantly for you, by pro hero agencies."
The class leaned forward with interest.
"Based on your performances, agencies have sent in offers for internships." He pulled out a remote and clicked a button. "Here are the results."
The screen lit up, displaying names and numbers:
TODOROKI TSUBAKI: 4,123 OFFERS
TODOROKI SHOTO: 3,890 OFFERS
BAKUGO KATSUKI: 2,456 OFFERS
The class erupted.
"FOUR THOUSAND?!" Kaminari shouted, his jaw dropping. "Todoroki got over FOUR THOUSAND offers?!"
"That's insane!" Mina added, her eyes wide.
The screen continued showing other students' numbers, all significantly lower but still respectable:
YAOYOROZU MOMO: 892 OFFERS
TOKOYAMI FUMIKAGE: 678 OFFERS
IIDA TENYA: 564 OFFERS
URARAKA OCHACO: 234 OFFERS
The list continued, with most students having between 50-300 offers.
"Wait, wait," Sero said, pointing at the screen. "Why is Bakugo in third? He got second place!"
"It's because of his attitude," Kaminari said with a grin, unable to resist. "He looked like he wanted to murder everyone during the medal ceremony! Agencies probably think he's too aggressive!"
"WHAT WAS THAT, SPARKY?!" Bakugo roared, explosions crackling around his palms. "I'LL SHOW YOU AGGRESSIVE!"
"Bakugo, sit down," Aizawa said tiredly. "Kaminari's right, though. Your performance was excellent, but your behavior during the awards turned some agencies off. Something to think about."
Bakugo slumped in his seat, glaring murderously at nothing in particular.
Tsubaki glanced across the room and noticed Iida sitting unusually still, his expression distant. The normally energetic student hadn't said a single word since class started. Something about him seemed... off. Different from how he'd been at the festival.
'What happened?' Tsubaki thought, concern flickering through him.
"Even if you didn't get many offers—or any offers—don't panic," Aizawa continued. "The school will help you find good internships. This is about learning, not popularity."
He clicked to the next slide.
"Since you'll be doing actual hero work during your internships, you'll need hero names. Official codenames that agencies and the public will use when referring to you."
The class immediately started buzzing with excitement.
"Hero names?!"
"We get to pick our own?!"
"This is so cool!"
"Take it seriously," Aizawa said, his tone sharp enough to cut through the excitement.
"The name you choose could stick with you for your entire career. So you better choose wisely." A female voice said.
The door slid open again, and Midnight walked in, her hero costume as revealing as ever.
Several boys immediately flushed red.
"Whoa," Kaminari breathed.
"Eyes forward," Jiro hissed, elbowing him.
"I'll be helping you choose your hero names!" Midnight announced with a sultry smile. "Since Aizawa here has the creativity of a brick wall."
"I'm going to sleep," Aizawa said flatly, already climbing into his sleeping bag in the corner. "Wake me when they're done."
Within seconds, he was somehow asleep.
Midnight pulled out a stack of small whiteboards and markers, distributing them to the class.
"Remember," she said, her voice taking on a more serious tone despite her smile, "this name might be with you for life. Some heroes change their names, but many don't. Choose something that represents who you are—or who you want to become."
Tsubaki accepted his whiteboard and marker, staring at the blank white surface.
'A hero name,' he thought, his mind already churning through possibilities. 'Something that represents me. My quirk. My goals.'
Around him, his classmates were already brainstorming, some writing immediately, others staring at their boards with furrowed brows.
"I've got mine already!" Mina announced excitedly.
"Me too!" Aoyama added with his characteristic sparkle.
Tsubaki tuned them out, focusing on his own board. His marker hovered over the surface, ready to write.
'What name would suit me? What represents everything I am, everything I've fought for?'
His blue eyes were thoughtful, analytical, as he considered the question that would help define his hero career.
His marker touched the board.
To Be Continued...
Give me any ideas you have here