Ethereal ◆ Shoto Todoroki x Reader

34 | Betrayed

"She couldn't have gone far!"

Guards search the palace for the rogue maid. Right after you spoke to her, Mayra disappeared.

"Your Highnesses," a deep voice says.

You turn around to see the Commander of Defenses. He's a tired-looking man, with dark, messy hair and remnants of a beard. He's dressed in his battle outfit, as all knights wear during war or such to enhance their quirks, with a capture weapon around his neck.

You struggle to remember his name. "Commander Aizowwow-"

Shoto holds back a laugh from beside you. You look at him quizzically.

"Just call me Aizawa, your Highness," he says, his voice void of emotion. You're grateful he didn't laugh at least.

"You both should probably hide," Aizawa says, gesturing to a guard behind him, "Izuku here will take you to a safer spot. Who knows where that traitor could be hiding, or how dangerous she could be."

The General walks past, leaving you and Shoto with the gaurd.

"Izuku? I hardly recognized you under that mask!" You say, greeting the old friend. "I thought you didn't have a-?"

"OH W-WELL," Izuku stutters loudly, interrupting you, "W-we can talk about that later!" He says.

His quirk enhancing outfit is green, with black, sturdy looking boots and other commodities. You're not sure why he has one, since quirkless guards (not that there are many of them) usually go overseas to help trade with other kingdoms, but it seems like he doesn't want to talk about it.

"N-now," he says, "I'd better take you somewhere safe."

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"Don't worry," Izuku says, pushing you and Shoto in the dark room, "You'll both be safe here, your Highnesses."

He closes the door, completely encasing the room in darkness. 

"What room even is this?" You ask Shoto, feeling around the small encasement.

"I think he said it was an old storage room," Shoto says quietly.

"Why are you whispering?" You whisper, "and why is it so dark?"

Suddenly pain rips through you, searing like fire and pounding through your body. You fall to the ground, clutching your head, and call out for Shoto, remembering the doctor's words.

And, just when the pain is at its worst, it disappears completely, instead leaving you with a pounding heart and Shoto wrapped around you. 

"Are you okay?" He whispers, his head on your shoulder.

"Now I am," you whisper back, dangerously aware of his position.

He must've thrown you  in his lap during the event, his arms wrapped under your arms and head on your right shoulder. He's sitting with his legs in a looser version of criss-cross-applesauce, and your legs are draped over his.

Your hands are resting on his back, face erupting in red. Thankfully it's dark and he probably can't tell.

"We need some light," Shoto says, holding up a hand. Flames curl around his arm, circling to his hand and resting there. The small flame illuminates his face, and this close his eyes seem like they're glowing.

"Wow," you whisper in awe, "I've never seen someone so. . .in control. It's like it's a part of you."

He sighs. "A result of my childhood."

"Sorry."

You sit in silence, holding each other, until a series of thumps sounds outside. Shouts come close after. Shoto quickly puts out his flame, blanketing you both in darkness once again. You get as close to the prince as you can, heart pounding, partly from his body pressed against yours, partly from fear.

A scream.

A man, probably a guard, screams, his voice pitching higher and higher in fear. It stops abruptly, and you find yourself wishing it hadn't.

The absence of sound scares you more than the screaming. Are they hurt? . . .dead?

You find yourself shaking; your hands quivering at the silence outside the hidden room. It's a wonder Mayra--or whoever she is--hasn't found you and Shoto yet. Surely the traitor would have a better plan than to just cause chaos with no purpose.

A sudden thought strikes you, making your heart pound faster, if even possible.

Where's Hitoka?

Is she okay? Is she even a part of this? Surely there must be blackmail of some sort involved. Hitoka wouldn't . . .

But then again, you never suspected Mayra, either. But she's clearly the culprit, or at least one of them. 

Your mind is racing, trying to calculate every possible outcome.

Where's the King?

The guards always protect the king first; he's probably okay. 

But what if he isn't?

In his delusional state, he'd be easy to capture, even kill. That's why they poisoned him. 

They must be after the king.

"Shoto," you whisper frantically, "the king. Your father. They're after your father!"

"He's fine," Shoto says, sounding not so sure, "Commander Aizawa was heading that way, remember?"

"R-right, but-"

"Shh!" Shoto puts a hand over your mouth, and you can feel the warmth from the flame that used to reside there.

Voices outside. The only voices you've heard since Izuku, besides the screaming. 

Two women, one you recognize as Mayra.

"Toka, c'mere!" 

The second person--Toka--doesn't say anything.

"Look at him!" Mayra says, "Isn't he just so cute?"

Silence.

"I caught this one earlier," Mayra says, "He looks even better all bloodied up, don'tcha think?"

"I'm sorry, but I'm not a complete wacko who thinks bloody guys are sexy," a voice says. A voice you recognize. A voice you've heard cry and make snarky remarks.

Hitoka.

So she's part of it after all. This whole time? 

You thought you'd be sad. But all you feel is betrayed. 

You clench your fist against Shoto, rage flowing through your veins like lava, wanting to fight. To do something. You can feel your quirk flow to the brim, and for a second, you even consider letting it go.

After everything? After you helped Hitoka, and all of the palace staff was so nice to her?

But they weren't. She was going to the dungeon. Even after what happened before. . .

You were still going to imprison her. Even after she suffered at the hands of the guards the first time. It's your fault. If only you could've done something.

Your anger melts away, and the betrayal settles in. 

And you cry; in the arms of your fiancé who holds you tighter at the sound of your sobs.

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