Two Weeks Later – Morning Train, Somewhere Outside Musutafu
The train hummed beneath their feet, the low rhythmic clatter of tracks a steady background to the early hour. Souta sat near the window, chin resting in his palm, eyes tracking the blur of the city waking up outside. Beside him, Shoto sat in composed silence, arms crossed loosely, his expression unreadable as usual.
They hadn't spoken much since leaving the house. They didn't need to.
"Thirty-four minutes," Souta murmured without looking up from his phone, where a soft notification from the U.A. app had just pinged their class assignments.
Shoto glanced over. "Class 1-A."
Souta's brow lifted slightly. "Same for me."
"Figures."
It could've been chance. Or U.A.'s way of keeping certain individuals together. Or maybe just someone's sense of symmetry - two Todoroki brothers with vastly different paths yet arriving at the same door.
Souta didn't mind. He didn't like being watched, and being with Shoto made it easier to deflect attention. Most people, upon seeing that scar, were too intimidated or too awkward to get close.
And Shoto… well, Shoto had always stayed close. Despite the walls, the silence, the unspoken scars. Their childhoods had not been equal. Endeavor had made sure of that. Shoto was raised with a purpose, a weight none of the other siblings had been asked to carry. When their mother was hospitalized, the split among the children had only deepened. Fuyumi tried to keep them connected. Natsuo stayed angry. Souta? He tried to understand.
But Shoto had always looked at him differently. Like he was someone who chose to stay, when others wouldn't have.
---
U.A. High – Front Gate
By the time they reached the gates, the campus was alive with students. Some already forming groups, others staring wide-eyed at the building they'd dreamed about. A few posed for photos or gushed loudly over seeing the actual front steps.
Souta adjusted the strap on his uniform blazer and kept moving, hands in his pockets. His pace was steady, not rushed. Shoto walked beside him, a quiet mirror.
He felt the eyes. People glancing. Whispering.
"Isn't that Todoroki - wait, two of them?"
"No way, are they twins?"
Souta ignored it all. He was used to being looked at - used to being misunderstood, too. Most people only knew him as "the one who didn't get a quirk" until recently. Others were just now connecting the dots: his face, his surname, the practical exam results. He wasn't bitter about it. But it did make things… complicated.
They reached the classroom door. Class 1-A. It was bigger than he expected.
Shoto opened it without hesitation and stepped inside.
The classroom was still mostly empty. A few students had arrived early - Bakugo already had his feet on the desk, arms folded, gaze simmering. He looked up when the Todoroki brothers entered, and something like recognition passed across his eyes as he saw Souta.
Not hostility. At least not just hostility. Just… an unspoken note of I'll be watching you, layered around the not so much hidden hostility.
Souta met his gaze without blinking and moved to their seats. Everyone was given a seat based on their names, and therefore number on the class list. Shoto sat obviously beside him.
Neither said a word.
Behind them, chatter started to build as more students arrived. A red and spiky haired guy laughed with a pink skinned girl, drawing in others as well. A green-haired student hovered near the door, mostly scanning faces nervously.
Souta clocked Midoriya right away. Still humble. Still awkward. But having some memories of the 'original show', he knew better than to underestimate him. That dude went from someone unable to control his quirk in any way, to being more or less the strongest user of it ever.
And all that was to say, with the knowledge that he never even reached the full potential of the quirk, meaning he could've technically been even stronger. This thought was actually scary, knowing the might that would have potentially been.
Just to find out how far he may reach, was enough of a reason for Souta to get fired up about the time in school and all the interesting quirks he may encounter.
Class 1-A was beginning to fill.
And yet, in the middle of all the noise, two brothers sat in quiet tandem. Not loud. Not flashy. Just present.
---
The noise of the classroom built in waves - chatter, laughter, nervous excitement. Students introduced themselves in spurts of awkward energy or bursts of extroverted flair. Someone cracked a joke. Someone else bragged about how many robots they'd destroyed.
But in the middle of it all, the Todoroki twins sat in silence. Not brooding, just... observant.
Souta rested one elbow on the desk, chin in hand, eyes flicking from student to student. Cataloguing behaviors and quirks mentally, already thinking about which one to copy next. Shoto simply sat upright, arms loosely folded, his eyes unfocused and distant. Their quiet created a small stillness around them, a space no one seemed quite brave enough to step into.
Souta's gaze went over the few he had already put his eyes on. The ones with quirks that would be quite helpful. His gaze passed over Uraraka, Kirishima, Tokoyami, Shoji, and lastly… Midoriya.
He knew that he would definitely not copy all their quirks, maybe even none, but those were the ones that intrigued him greatly. Especially, Midoriya's, Shoji's and Tokoyami's. All three of those were somewhat special in nature.
For example, would he also grow extra arms, if he were to copy Shoji's quirk, or would he grow a bird's head with Tokoyami's quirk. But most importantly, how would copying Midoriya's quirk work. Through the memories he knew that it was not just a physical enhancement quirk after all.
Throughout it all, Bakugo hadn't stopped watching them. Or rather - watching Souta. His smirk was small and sharp, like he already saw a challenge laid out between them and couldn't wait to answer it with violence. He didn't say anything, but the energy was loud enough.
Souta didn't flinch. He didn't feed into it either. Just one look - slow and unimpressed, before going back to his own thoughts.
Eventually, Iida stood and introduced himself, loud and formal. Uraraka bounced in after him with a bubbly greeting. Midoriya said something quiet and polite, eyes wide as he mentally recorded everything. Kaminari and Sero started some fast-paced conversation in the back corner, while Jirou rolled her eyes and plugged in one earbud.
It was chaos, but it was warm chaos.
And then it ended.
The door clicked open with no fanfare. No dramatic footsteps. Just a dull, dragging sound—*shhhhfff*—like something soft being pulled across tile.
Every head turned.
A man emerged from the hall, wrapped in a yellow sleeping bag, eyes half-shut and hair tangled like he'd just woken from a week-long nap. His scarf was bunched around his neck, his capture gear slung like a loose accessory instead of tactical equipment.
He stared at them. They stared back.
And then he spoke.
"...took you all 8 seconds to quiet down. Too slow."
The entire class froze.
A moment passed before he unzipped the sleeping bag and stepped out, standing to full height in the middle of the room. His presence wasn't explosive like All Might's. It wasn't theatrical. But it exuded seriousness.
"The name is Shota Aizawa," he said, voice monotone and dry. "I'm your homeroom teacher. And I don't like wasting time."
"Put on your P.E. Clothes and come down to the open testing grounds. We're doing a Quirk Assessment."
Midoriya stammered from his seat. "Wait - what about the orientation ceremony-?"
Aizawa's gaze drifted lazily toward him. But his words hit like a cold slap.
"If you want to waste time on speeches and smiling principals, go find another school. We're here to make heroes. That means action. If you're not ready to start, you're not ready to be here."
Souta exhaled once through his nose. 'Efficient'.
Shoto's brow twitched slightly, but he made no comment.
Aizawa looked at them all, gaze sharp even through the fatigue.
"I've read all your files. I know who you are. I know why you're here. And I know that many of you won't make it past the first semester."
There were a few gulps. Someone muttered, "Damn…"
He continued, pointing vaguely toward the group of students. "Ten minutes. Don't be late."
As he walked out, his gaze passed Souta and paused - just for a breath.
His gaze flicked down to the faint lines on Souta's wrists and hands, the burn-scars he hadn't quite managed to cover fully. His tone didn't shift, but there was the faintest glint of irritation, but also… respect?
Then he kept walking, disappearing back into the hallway with the same energy of someone going back to bed.
Souta stood.
Shoto followed.
And just like that, the rest of the class scrambled after them - some confused, some annoyed, but all very aware that this wasn't going to be the first day they expected.