💥 ON HIATUS !!!
⎯ naoko todoroki decided she'd
go through a hell hotter than
her own fire for people who
never deserved it.
OR
⎯ in which the youngest todoroki
joins ua against her father's wishes,
and...
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With a wave of his arm, a frozen tidal wave descended on Naoko, and the entire arena, the entire audience, everyone there physically and everyone glued to their phones and TVs, were in shock from what happened as the ice connected.
Or rather, as it failed to.
With her hands held out in front of her, Naoko sent forth a massive burst of silvery fire. The flames danced at a height above the arena, and the heat emanating from them melted Shoto's ice in seconds. The mass of frozen water collapsed to liquid, a series of ripples making their way across the stadium floor.
Shoto watched in awe, as his ice was rendered completely useless against Naoko.
There was no way that just happened. Not even a month ago, just the cold air from his ice had the capability of incapacitating the girl. How the hell could she do this now?
With a clench of his jaw, the half and half boy sent forth another wall of ice, but this time, it melted before it could cross half the arena to approach his sister.
Every surge of ice was met by an onslaught of silver and grey, the masses crumbling before they could have any effect.
Present Mic, watching the fight, astonished, stuttered to try and commentate, "T-Todoroki Shoto... his ice has been, uh... Overpowered... It seems it no longer has an effect on Naoko..."
Hearing the teacher's words, Shoto grunted in anger as he retreated. He thought to himself, I just need to tire her out...
"Your fire is just doing me a favor!" He called out, hoping to deter the girl. With every blast of heat, the frost that would have eventually impaired him, melted right off his skin. All she was doing was making him able to use his ice longer, so if she ran out of energy before him, he would surely win.
"Is it?"
Shoto took that moment to observe his sister. She stood straight, not a hint of fatigue on her face, nor in the way she held herself. Her arms were out in front of her, fingers relaxed and ready to send fire his way at a moment's notice.
In comparison to Shoto, who was heavily breathing, sweat dripping from his forehead and knees bent, close to collapsing—Naoko looked far stronger. Shoto knew in that second that the match was calling to fight fire with fire.
There was no way around it.
Shoto wanted to let anger take him over, knowing it would strengthen his fire, but there was nothing there. He wanted to look at Naoko and imagine fighting his father, but the image of him that had tainted the girl faded. Her rage was nonexistent—she looked at him without anger that mirrored Endeavor. Her crimson hair was hidden, her face wasn't scowling—there was no glare to remind him of where she came from. Where he himself came from.
