Ash Takami-Todoroki has spent years secretly searching for her father, navigating a dangerous web of family secrets and powerful heroes, all while keeping her actions hidden from her strict and overbearing father. When she finally finds him, their c...
Footsteps thundered. Daf came down the last flight of stairs too fast, nearly missing one.
“What—what’s wrong?” he asked, eyes already searching my face.
I didn’t soften it. I pointed.
“You’re about to have another kid.”
He followed my finger to Papa, who was pale, tense, breathing like he was trying not to panic.
Dad froze.
“…Babe?” he said quietly.
“I didn’t know,” Papa said all at once, words tumbling over each other. “I was at the mall. Just walking. And this woman comes up to me and says—very calmly, by the way—‘Sir, if you didn’t notice, your water just broke.’”
Dad blinked.
“And then I panicked,” Papa continued, voice tight. “Because I’d handed Kurogiri over to Ash, and I couldn’t find anyone, and then—five minutes later—she finds me, and now we’re here.”
The room snapped into motion.
Everything after that blurred into long hours and harsh lights and waiting that stretched until my bones ached.
Fifteen hours later, she arrived.
Tiny. Red-faced. Furious at the world.
Papa was crying. Dad wasn’t even trying to hide it.
“I like the name Milo,” Papa said softly. Dad smiled—a real one, the kind that changes his whole face. “Then she’s Milo Todoroki.”
Something in my chest cracked open.
“Can I…?” I asked carefully. “Can I show her to everyone?”
They both nodded.
I picked Milo up with hands that suddenly felt too big. She was warm. Heavy in that fragile way newborns are. I draped feathers gently over her ears before opening the door.
I didn’t bother lowering my voice.
“Everyone—quiet. Now.”
The room snapped silent.
I stood there, heart pounding. “This is my little sister. Milo Todoroki.”
Shoto stepped closer and lifted his phone. The camera clicked softly.
A moment later, my pocket buzzed.
Dad joined us, eyes never leaving the baby. He glanced at Shoto. “Do you want to hold her?”
Shoto nodded immediately. “Yes. Please.” I watched him cradle her like she was made of glass. I took a picture and sent it to him.
That part was good.
The bad part came when I checked my phone.
Fifty-nine missed calls.
From him.
My stomach dropped.
I ducked into my room and called back.
“Ash Takami,” Father snapped the second he answered, “where the hell are you?”
I exhaled slowly. “I passed out at Endeavor’s on the first day, and then I helped someone give birth. Otherwise, I would’ve been home.”
Silence.
Then: “Don’t get smart with me. I don’t trust you.”
I lifted my arm and turned the camera toward myself. Blood. Dried and fresh.
“There’s your proof,” I said. “I’m busy.”
“Fake. Come home and give me the phone—”
I hung up.
I went back downstairs to tell everyone what happened, but most of the adults were already asleep. Milo too—bundled, peaceful, finally resting.
I sent everyone home through portals. Before leaving, I closed my bedroom door so no one would wander in.
When I got home, Rumi was trying—unsuccessfully—to keep Father from losing his mind.
I handed over my phone without a word. Before I went to bed, I sent Rumi a picture of me holding Milo.
That mattered.
I sat on my bed staring at the wall until the door creaked open.
“Hey, kiddo,” Rumi said gently. “Can you tell me more about the baby?”
“My little sister,” I said. “Milo Todoroki.” My voice cracked.
“I was taking care of her,” I whispered. “I was happy. And then I saw Dad called and I—I—”
I didn’t finish.
I couldn't.
Rumi crossed the room in two steps and pulled me into her arms. I cried into her shoulder until my chest hurt, until the shaking slowed, until sleep took me whether I wanted it or not.
The house was quiet.
But somewhere not far away, my world had grown bigger.
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Her at six^ to give y'all an idea of what she looks like.
