Ethereal ◆ Shoto Todoroki x Reader

30 | Questions

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Hitoka is crying.

What did he say? 

Surely Takahashi didn't intentionally make her cry; she could just be homesick or sad about Moyasu. She did just hear about it recently, and it was her hometown. Maybe you should comfort her, but she doesn't seem like the type to want comforting.

You peek inside the room, feeling slightly guilty. You're ignoring Hitoka's privacy, and as bad as you feel about it . . .

Yeah, nevermind. You shouldn't do this, especially after taking her in and giving her a place to stay. 

You sigh, walking away from the crying girl. You've noticed that ever since you left your father and Hiro, you've been getting careless, reckless.

But maybe not. Maybe it's because you feel more relaxed here, more comfortable. 

You don't want to intrude and make Hitoka feel uncomfortable, but you still want to help. 

You walk briskly down the hall, searching for Takahashi, but instead find Shoto. He's sitting on a couch at the end of the hall, right next to his father's room; or what used to be, since he's been moved to the doctor's care. 

A book sits in his lap and he skims the pages.

"Shoto?" You ask, sitting next to him. 

He looks up and smiles. "Princess."

You point at the book in his lap. "What are you reading?"

He flips it closed and shows you the cover. It's brown leather, and looks fairly worn.

"I found it in my father's room," he says, "It's a records book. The history of the kingdom."

He opens the cover to reveal the first page. It's normal, despite the fact that pen marks cover it. They dance across the page, circling important dates and quotes, and leaving opinions scrawled on the side of each. 

The edges are crinkled, making each page look as if read a thousand times over.

"It was his," his lips slightly curl upward, "he's had it for a long time, from what I've read. But look."

He carefully flips to the back of the book, to the very last section, where there's some empty pages. It's the only spot that looks good as new, as if reserved for someone else. 

There, in sloppy handwriting, is this:

ѕнσтσ, ωнєη ι αм gσηє, ƒιηιѕн тнє ѕтσяу.

"When I am gone, finish the story," Shoto repeats, tracing the writing with his finger. "Do you think he planned on giving this book to me?"

"I bet he still will," you say, taking his hand in yours, "because he's not gone. He'll survive this. He's a fighter; he always has been."

"Yeah," he smiles, squeezing your hand, "Yeah, you're right."

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"What in the world did you say to her?" You ask the confused guard. 

Takahashi shifts his weight from one foot to another, looking around the room and avoiding your eyes. "Say to who?"

"Hitoka!" You say. "I walked by and heard her crying right after you walked out! She's a guest; you shouldn't. . ."

You stop, watching the transformation in front of you. Suddenly all nervousness is gone; Takahashi stands straight, not moving, hands behind his back like he normally would. His eyes snap to yours and he smiles.