Cyclone - Shoto Todoroki

Chapter Nine

I am free to do as I please, so it should be simple, right?

It's been about three months since Endeavors murder.

And just as they had before, the seasons changed in the blink of an eye. The cold of winter was quickly smothered by the warmth of spring, the snow replaced with blooming cherry blossoms.

It's hard to picture how he had ever lived in such a way, how he could put up with the constant misery, and how long it had taken him to break. Maybe he had gotten weaker not only in body, but in mind.

Is it really okay, to keep on living like this?

Was he really allowed to simply take on a new name and immerse himself into a life unrelated to his past crimes? To forget it had ever happened, as simply and naturally as the spring erasing the winter.

He keeps thinking about it- as if simply pretending to feel guilty changes anything. As if he's so naive to think that simply 'feeling bad' about doing something so unforgivable would be enough of an apology.

In truth, he doesn't feel guilty at all.

It's as if those crimes were committed by another person, he can't even manage this much.

But really, he doesn't care about that either...probably.

—

''Is it really okay for us to play this, Natsuo-nii?''

The older boy shakes his head fondly, as if his question had been one so ridiculous there was no point in even considering it. ''Of course, Shoto, Endeavor is away! So he can't catch us now.''

He says, gleefully setting up the 'game' he had brought with him today. It has a piece of cardboard with vibrant colours, and many small pieces of plastic accompanying it.

Shoto thinks he can remember playing a game like this once, but the details refuse to return to him. All that is left is a sense of vague recollection, of cards with bright colours.

He didn't really want to play this game, but Natsuo had asked him to, and Shoto didn't know what to think at that time, simply going along with it had felt easier.

His brother had barged into his room, exclaiming that he had his promised gift, and excitedly dragged him away to the side of the house he was forbidden from entering.

The room they were sitting in was strange, it made him feel uneasy. Logically, it was almost identical to the rooms he was typically confined to, but there was something...

He didn't know what to call it, but it was different.

Natsuo makes a shout of excitement, moving to sit down from his position on his knees and collapsing onto the tatami mats in an awkward, lazy way. If Father saw, he would surely not approve. ''Okay Shoto, this game is pretty intense so buckle up!'' He barks, arranging some further pieces into a row.

''Choose your player, they're all pretty much the same, so just go for whatever!'' He says, pointing toward the row of plastic figures.

Shoto looks at each of them one by one, but they all look the same. Which is he supposed to choose? What's the correct answer? Natsuo is looking at him, smiling at him, what does he want him to say?

''I don't know.'' Shoto says simply, heart pounding wildly in his chest. He doesn't want to drag things on, sitting in suspense is torture.

Natsuo nods his head and picks up one of the figurines. It's a person with silver hair and a red scarf, his clothes look like ninjas. ''This is Edgeshot, do you know him? He's a hero, a real hero, not like Endeavor.''