Operation Ice Prince: Todoroki's Hero Smackdown (UA War Game)

The Plan of Ice and Fire

Me: So, how exactly do I stop a whole class of future heroes?

Izuku: We'll start with Bakugo. He's your biggest threat.

Of course. Leave it to Midoriya to be direct about things. Even while he's tucked under layers of blankets, looking like death warmed over, he's got that strategic mind working overtime. It's actually impressive. If it were anyone else, I'd probably tune them out by now, but with Midoriya, I listen. Always. His mind? It's like a chessboard, always three moves ahead of everyone else.

Me?

 I'm more of a "freeze now, ask questions later" kind of guy.

Midoriya scribbles furiously in his notebook, the one filled with every hero's strengths, weaknesses, quirks, and battle tendencies. He even knows how many times Kaminari short-circuits before he needs a nap.

Izuku: Bakugo's going to be aggressive. It's his default Pomeranian attitude. You can use that against him. Lead him into a trap. He won't even think twice. He'll come at you, full power, and that's when we use your ice to corner him.

Me: You say that like it's easy.

I can't help the skepticism in my voice. Sure, I've fought Bakugo before, but this time it's different. He's got a whole team behind him, and I'm supposed to fend them off solo. Well, with Midoriya's brilliant plan, of course.

As Izuku continues laying out the strategy, breaking down every single one of our classmates, I feel a pit forming in my stomach. Not because I think the plan won't work. No, it's actually too good. So good, in fact, that it makes me uncomfortable.

Because I didn't come up with it.

Me: This is... perfect. Almost too perfect.

Izuku: We're not done yet. You'll need to control the terrain. If you make the entire battlefield your playground, you've already won. Your quirk gives you that advantage—half-hot, half-cold, remember? You can control both ends of the spectrum. No one else can do that. It's why you're the perfect villain for this exercise.

Villain. 

That word again. 

It stings, more than it should.

Me: Right. I'm the perfect villain.

Izuku: Not a villain. Just... playing the part.

Midoriya doesn't get it. He says it like this is just another exercise, another simulation, but for me, it's more complicated. I've spent years trying to get out of the shadow of my father—Endeavor—the ultimate villain masquerading as a hero. I don't want to become him, and yet, here I am, cast as the villain in this little game of ours.

I glance over at Midoriya, who's now coughing into his sleeve. His dedication is beyond ridiculous. He's literally falling apart, but still strategizing like our lives depend on it.

Me: You should rest. You look terrible.

Izuku: sniff  I'm fine. Just... a bit more to go. We still have to deal with Yaoyorozu and her unpredictability.

I sigh. There's no stopping him when he's like this.

My father never asked for help. He didn't trust anyone enough to need it. In his mind, being powerful meant being alone. Strong enough to stand on your own two feet, no matter what. That's what he drilled into me from a young age. Weakness was a sin. Teamwork? That was for those who weren't strong enough on their own.

It was a warped sense of strength. I realize that now, but for years, it was all I knew. Trust no one. Stand alone.

And now, I'm sitting here, letting Midoriya—my best friend, the one person I actually trust—basically do all the work for me. And I'm torn between feeling grateful and feeling like I'm betraying everything I was taught.

Izuku: So for Sero and Kaminari, you'll want to—

Me: I don't get it.

Izuku: Hmm?

Me: How can you do this? Help me, I mean. I'm supposed to be the villain.

Midoriya looks up, blinking at me like I've just said the most absurd thing in the world. Maybe I have.

Izuku: Because you're not a villain, Todoroki. You're my friend. And you're not doing this alone. Besides, you'd do the same for me, right?

He says it so casually, like it's a given. And maybe it is. But hearing it out loud still hits me harder than I expected. He's right. I would do the same for him, without question.

Because Midoriya isn't just a classmate or a rival. He's my best friend. And probably the only real friend I've ever had.

Me: Right. Of course.

We go back to planning, but my mind's still spinning. Trust doesn't come easy to me, not after everything I grew up with. But with Midoriya, it's different. I trust him, maybe more than I trust myself.

The plan is starting to take shape, and it's brilliant. Not just your run-of-the-mill "beat the heroes" kind of plan. No, this one's genius. It uses my quirk to its absolute fullest—both halves. We're talking ice walls, fire traps, using the environment itself against the heroes. The entire battlefield becomes my domain, just like Midoriya said.

No one else could've come up with this. Not me, not Bakugo, no one. Only Midoriya. And that's why, as much as I hate admitting it, I need his help.

But it doesn't sit right with me. I've always been taught to rely on myself, to be strong enough alone. And yet, here I am, letting Midoriya guide me through this like it's nothing.

Me: You know this plan is too good, right?

Izuku: That's the point. We're going to win.

Me: I'm going to win.

Izuku: You're right. You are. But I'll be watching from the sidelines, cheering you on.

I look at him, bundled up in blankets, his eyes tired but still shining with that same determination. He'd never say it out loud, but I know what he's doing. He's not just helping me win. He's reminding me that I don't have to do everything alone.

Flash back brought to you by a small bunny that is hugged by a cat.

I'm eight, standing in front of my father. He's towering over me, his face twisted in anger as I struggle to keep up with his training. My body is burning, but I don't cry. I won't give him that satisfaction.

Endeavor: Weak. You're weak. You'll never surpass me if you rely on others.

The words echo in my head, even now, years later. I've spent so long trying to be anything but weak. Trying to prove him wrong.

End of flashback brought to you by the bunny snuggeling towards the cat.

Me: Thanks, Midoriya.

Izuku: For what?

Me: For... helping me. For everything.

He smiles at me, and it's that stupid, genuine smile of his that makes everything feel a little bit better. Even if I don't deserve it. Even if I still feel conflicted.