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

Aftermath of Victory

The silence was deafening.

I stood in the center of the ruined training ground, the last one standing. The simulation city was frozen over, with chunks of ice littering the streets, walls scorched with fire, and the last remnants of smoke curling into the sky. My classmates lay scattered around me, some still conscious but beaten down, others already knocked out from the battle.

Aizawa's voice crackled over the speaker, breaking the tense quiet.

Aizawa (over speaker): The exercise is over. The villain wins. Everyone return to base.

I didn't move right away. My feet felt glued to the ground, my body still buzzing from the adrenaline. I'd done it. I'd won. But why did it feel like I'd lost?

Is this what victory feels like?

I glanced around at the fallen heroes, my classmates, my friends. Bakugo was still unconscious, lying face-down in the dirt where he'd fallen, his hands blistered from his explosions. Jiro and Sato were curled up next to a wall of ice, while Tokoyami's Dark Shadow had all but evaporated into a wisp of smoke during the exercise.

They'd fought so hard. I'd seen it in their eyes—the desperation, the determination. But in the end, it wasn't enough. I had been too strong. I had been too much.

What does it mean to win when you break everyone in the process?

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, my chest tight with a familiar ache. This victory felt hollow. Empty.

The ice beneath me cracked as I took my first step toward the others, my legs heavy and tired. Physically, I was fine. Mentally, though? That was a different story.

Aizawa (walking toward me): As you can guess by now, Todoroki as the villain pary won.

I snapped out of my thoughts and saw Aizawa standing in front of me, arms crossed, his usual bored expression replaced with something unreadable. The other students were starting to stir behind him, groaning as they sat up, nursing bruises and aches. Aizawa glanced around at the wreckage and let out a low hum.

Aizawa: I'll start with the obvious. You all failed. Miserably.

A wave of disappointment washed over the group, but no one could argue with him. They had been crushed, and they knew it.

Aizawa: Your strategies were sloppy, your communication broke down, and you relied too much on brute force. This was never about power. It was about thinking. And most of you forgot to do that.

Bakugo, now semi-conscious, glared at Aizawa from his position on the ground, his pride visibly wounded. He opened his mouth to say something, but a sharp look from Aizawa silenced him.

Aizawa: Bakugo, you led with your fists, not your brain. You thought you could overpower Todoroki with sheer will, but that's exactly why you lost. This exercise wasn't about who hits the hardest—it's about who thinks the hardest. You need to start using your head.

Bakugo scowled but didn't argue. I could see the frustration burning in his eyes, his knuckles still clenched. But Aizawa wasn't done.

Aizawa (turning to the others): The rest of you weren't any better. You fell into Todoroki's traps, underestimated his quirk, and let him control the entire battlefield. This wasn't a test of strength. It was a test of adaptability, and you failed to adapt.

I could feel their disappointment as they listened to Aizawa's blunt assessment. But the truth was undeniable. They hadn't been prepared for what I brought to the exercise. They hadn't anticipated how far I'd go to win.

And neither had I.

Aizawa finally turned to me, his expression softening slightly.

Aizawa: Todoroki.

I straightened up instinctively. My chest tightened.

Aizawa: Your strategy was flawless, grest execusion of them as well. You used the terrain, your quirk, and your opponent's weaknesses to your advantage. You anticipated every move they made. You were precisely what I hoped for when I chose you as the villain.

The praise felt strange. Uncomfortable. I shifted on my feet, the weight of his words pressing down on me.

Aizawa: But...

There it was. The inevitable 'but.'

Aizawa: You're not just a strategist and knowing Midoriya, he planned most of this. You're a person, and this exercise wasn't just about winning. It's about teamwork. And that's something you need to work on.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms.

 Teamwork. 

Right.

He wasn't wrong. I had worked with Izuku to come up with the strategy, but once the exercise began, I had shut everyone out. I had focused solely on winning. On being the strongest. Just like my father.

Endeavor would've been proud. 

But would I have been?

Aizawa gave me a long, hard look before continuing.

Aizawa: You were the villain in this exercise, Todoroki. And you played the role well. Too well. It's one thing to win. It's another thing to crush everyone in the process.

His words hit me harder than I expected. I glanced down at my hands, the ones that had summoned ice and fire with such ease during the battle. They were steady now, but I could still feel the echo of the power I'd unleashed.

I had been too much. Too ruthless. Too... Endeavor.

 Is this what I want to be? 

Is this who I am?

Flashes of my childhood came rushing back—Endeavor's cold, unrelenting gaze, the harsh training sessions, the constant pressure to be better, to be stronger. I had always tried to distance myself from him, from what he represented. But in this exercise, I had become everything I swore I wouldn't.

Have I really changed at all?

Aizawa's voice cut through my thoughts once again.

Aizawa: You need to learn balance, Todoroki. Being strong isn't just about power. It's about control. And that includes controlling how far you're willing to go to win.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. He was right. Again.

I had the strength, the skill, and the strategy. But I was missing something vital—restraint. Balance. The same things I had struggled with my entire life.

The other students were slowly getting to their feet, shaking off the remnants of their defeat. They looked at me, some with admiration, others with a mix of fear and awe. But I didn't feel triumphant. I didn't feel like a hero.

What does it mean to win if it makes you feel more like a villain than a hero?

Izuku caught my eye from where he stood on the sidelines, still pale from his illness. His expression was soft, understanding, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. And maybe he did.

Aizawa gave the final nod, signaling the end of the session.

Aizawa: Good work. But remember, this was a training exercise. Learn from it. All of you.

With that, he walked away, leaving us to pick up the pieces of the battlefield—and ourselves.

I took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill my lungs. I had won. But at what cost?

Maybe next time... I'll be more than just a weapon.

As the class gathered their things and limped back to the lockers, I stayed behind for a moment, watching the ice melt in the sun. Victory wasn't always sweet. Sometimes, it just left you cold.