Song of Storm (Shoto Todoroki x Fem! OC)

CH 0: Prologue - One Life Was Enough

If hell could be found on earth, what was even the point of afterlife?

Todoroki Shoto laid on his futon lifelessly. Hikamori-san, the housekeeper of the north wing of the mansion had gasped shrilly that day when she realized the youngest Todoroki had a fever. No one could blame her for being astonished. Logically speaking, the youngest Todoroki should not ever have any problem with regulating his body temperature due to his quirk.

However, Todoroki Shoto, at the unripe age of nine, learnt the hard way that anything and everything in this world is possible.

None ever imagined the second best hero to be anything other than heroic and a stellar citizen. But Shoto knew the bitter truth about what a colossal piece shit he actually is.

His mother should be having a life of luxury and relaxation after marrying one of the richest men in japan. Surprise surprise! That's not how things ended. Rei Todoroki was transported to a mental institute two days ago after mutilating the handsomest Todoroki.

No one ever imagined the oldest son of the Todoroki would up dead without a full corpse in a forest fire. Yet there Touya Todoroki was --- the only thing remainder of him was a small jawbone. The heat of the fire had blackened and shrunk the already pathetic piece of bone. Shoto had taken one look at the bone when a sullen endeavor brought it back. The youngest Todoroki took one glance at it and immediately concluded that his adolescent penis bigger way bigger than it. It was hard to imagine that Touya used to snap at him from a distance with that same pathetic jaw.

It had been a week since his brother was burned alive in a forest fire and it had been exactly two days since Rei Todoroki boiled his eye. The latter landed herself in a mental hospital while the former couldn't even have proper funeral because he was already cremated. A little too cremated, in fact.

However, none of these incidents had affected Shoto's overly imposing father. Even that same morning, Shoto had seen the man standing just as tall with his one good eye. The taller Enji Todoroki stood, the hotter Shoto's rage became. Perhaps, enji's visit that morning was what pushed Shoto to achieve the impossible feat of having a fever. Or, maybe Rei's burning kettle fucked up his quirk pathways somehow. Shoto did not know what caused his fever, nor did Shoto care. All he wanted to know was what would break the camel's back that is Enji Todoroki.

The futon he was laying on was apparently worth thousands of dollars. He knew that because he heard Hikamori-san's shrill voice reprimanding her subordinates for creasing that same futon a few months back. Apparently, you could buy a decent apartment in Tokyo with the cost of the futon. Enji Todoroki 'rewarded' him with it a while ago and proudly claimed it was custom made by an artisian futon-maker to make help his blood circulation flow better and offer Shoto maximum comfort. But, Shoto called bullshit. That wretched futon did not offer him an ounce of comfort during his feverish state. The only thing that somewhat dulled his pain at the moment was the fact that his father was scammed out thousands of dollars by that quack futon maker.

He felt like he was dying. His heart was slowing down and his vision was rapidly deteriorating. If there was a god, Shoto wanted to thank them for sending a deafeningly loud thunderstorm down to earth to accompany him in his misery. The roaring thunder helped. It distracted him from his pain momentarily. The storm started right after he received the news of touya's demise. It never stopped for a single moment for the last seven days. In a way, the roaring heavens were the only thing that stayed by his side for the days of endless grief. He liked the storm even more because he often saw his father staring at the dark flashing sky with malice in the last few days.

Shoto may have been just a nine year old boy. But he felt as if he aged several decades in the last few days. If he wasn't already born with white hair, his scalp would have still found a way to dye his strands pale due to the stress of the week.