Chapter Text
Screw Shoto Todoroki.
No, actually? Fuck him. Fuck him and his stupid, perfect, handsome face, his above average grades, and his amazing quirk(s) the universe felt he should be blessed with.
The universe was unfair and it was constantly reminding you—yes, reminding little old you—that when it came to Mr. Perfect Shoto Todoroki, you would always be second best. Hard to argue that fact when you’ve known him for most of your young life, being compared to him for the majority of it.
“Oh, you have a similar quirk?” classmates would giggle, “That’s so cute!”
“No,” you would chastise them, along with aggravatingly reminding yourself. Because it wasn’t similar, not really. “I can’t control ice. I have a snow quirk,” you clarified.
“And I can’t do those gigantic arctic tundras like he does.” Of course you’d have to clarify this before they asked next. “I can just, like… make it snow. Snow piles? I’m your gal. Save the polar bears from climate change by encasing the Poles with heaven-piercing glaciers? Time to ask Shoto.”
From those sky-kissing ice mountains down to a miniature ice rink he’d provide classmates to skate on (because why wouldn’t he be that kind? ugh), to even the little ice cube shapes he’d give the other children to pop into their drinks when asked. No, none of that you could do.
“I can melt my snow and coat more on top of it for black ice, but that’s about the extent of it.” You’d grimace, and your peers would raise their eyebrows in sympathy, having no idea how to wrap their heads around it. Snow and ice were the same thing in their eyes.
Most of the time, they didn’t even realize why you were so upset. Not about the comparisons, and certainly not about the subject of Shoto as a whole. They weren’t sure why you’d get angry—but how could you not be? It was an unjustified comparison!
Sometimes they’d tease you that it was because you liked him, which was absolutely preposterous—laughable, really. And other times they said it was just because you felt bad for not having as powerful of a quirk, which…wasn’t…really true.
It wasn’t because you were jealous (not really), even though his quirk was certifiably more ‘powerful’ in a fight than yours. It was just annoying being nagged of your similarities (and lack-thereof) constantly. It had been happening ever since you were seven years old and transferred to the same school in your elementary years. How could that not be annoying after happening for so long?
It was worse when teachers would pair the two of you up. It became obvious very quickly how much more eye-catching his quirk seemed over your own. His capabilities promised the ability for greatness on a silver platter. He was going to be a powerhouse of a hero, and your peers had no problem alerting you to that fact.
“Maybe you could ask him to help you learn–”
“Nope, I’m good!” You’d cut them off and leave your seat to escape where the conversation would go.
You didn’t want that. You didn’t.
Because you’ve known him for so long, and been in this precariously annoying situation for even longer, you didn’t want his help, even if he could give it. It’s not as if he could change what your quirk was! You were what you were—a lesser version than himself—and that wasn’t even his fault.
You were just so tired of the subject. You were tired of it and of arguing your points.
You were fine with just being yourself. You were happy with your quirk. What was wrong with snow? People liked snow. Snow was the cause of ‘snow days’ where you got off from school. Snow was associated with holiday traditions and playing outside with your friends. It was crunchy, soft, and just nice. Snowball fights? Building snowmen? Snow angels? Come on. Just awesome. What was wrong with enjoying that?
You could prevent friends’ ice cream from melting, and you could easily defrost people’s cars during the colder months by taking the lighter frost away from windshields.
Hold off the refrigerator letting the food go bad when the electricity got cut? Hell yeah, you could help there.
Was it too hot in the summer and your friends required a cold hand on their foreheads or necks to cool off? You got ‘em.
Make the biggest and most detailed snowman for a contest in winter? You were just the gal for that.
Did it not snow for the holiday season? You’re here to save the day!
Yes, you liked your quirk. You didn’t need ice to feel special. Snow was special enough on its own. Snowflakes were a mysterious wonder, and you always liked watching the different angles form when it poured out from your palms. You liked molding snowballs into different shapes and trying to harden them enough to stick around, even if they wouldn’t last forever.
Shoto and your quirks were different. People didn’t want to accept that, but it was the truth.
You had at least one thing over him. Unlike you, Shoto lacked the ability to generate anything containing wind or blizzard-like effects. His quirk seemed to allow him the function of ice alone, whereas you could change the temperature and density of your snow to be more of a liquid, or harden its texture.
Sure, you couldn’t harden it to the same density as his ice, but you found it a decent enough shield. That, and your blizzards could also help aid with dampening visuals and auditory levels. In a fight, if you were strategic about it, that could give you an edge.
Shoto had to touch something to affect it, and he only had one half of his body able to do so. Both of your hands were the vessel for your power however, expelling the snow outward from them. That gave you the possibility of varying techniques between the two hands at the same time, if you concentrated hard enough.
But, of course, nobody cared about that. Not when the Ice Prince could create realistic ice sculptures or ice bridges that carried you into the clouds like a magic roller coaster ride.
Kind of hard to compete with that.
Your snow wasn’t as cold, hard, or easily manipulative as his ice was, but that was okay. You just couldn’t affect water the same way he could. That was fine. And you certainly couldn’t set yourself on fire like he could, either. That… that was also okay. You didn’t need two quirks to feel unique or anything.
No. Nope. Screw that. Snow was cooler! And you were able to use it just fine.
God forbid you bring up your feelings about the guy and how annoying he was, either. No, no, people adored Mr. Wonderful Ice-Fire Man. You were the crazy one for disliking him! And it would make sense to an outsider to see you and assume your distaste was over the sheer fact he had a ‘better’ quirk than you, or that he did better than you in mostly anything (without even seemingly trying). But that wasn’t just it.
And yes, he had even been blessed with that weird capability where he could sleep or just zone out in class and get straight A’s, never taking notes, barely pretending to care about any of it!
Ugh! Fuck Shoto Todoroki and his perfect photographic memory!
You, of course, had to study your ass off to get where you were, and you refused to allow your grades to slip in the instance where they may require you to ask him for help with that as well. No thank you. It was bad enough that the comparisons weren’t always academic...
No. You were not jealous.
You were angry at the universe, but you weren’t jealous.
You were upset because you couldn’t even get mad at the guy without seeming to be in the wrong. Everyone expected you to like him as much as they did. It was easy to like him, so why would you of all people dislike someone who was so… similar to you, but cooler? And nice?
Shoto was popular without even trying—girls and boys alike gushed about how much they adored him, as if it were only natural to swoon. You were the oddball and always had been when he was around.
It would be easy to understand why your peers loved him to a certain extent. Shoto was kind—or at least, he wasn’t cruel like most of the other children your age. He mostly kept to himself, speaking quietly and politely to his classmates and teachers, doing what was asked of him without much of a fuss.
His grades were above average, too, so nobody minded being paired up with him in either a regular subject or for a quirk assessment (his abilities all-but promised success for both students). Shoto never seemed to find his way into any sorts of drama or brawls like the other boys, either. Nope, that was below Mr. Perfect. He had no time for it.
Go to class, do amazing, get fawned over by everyone, and get picked up by his elder siblings to go home. Absolutely insufferable.
How could anyone dislike a person like that?
As you saw it, the only thing that could be detrimental to this guy’s ability to be without flaw was his estranged family. It had been years since you’d seen either one of his parents. His father, Endeavor, was a top pro hero, so that might have something to do with him constantly missing out on school-related activities involving his son. His mother, however, was an enigma, and Shoto kept enough to himself that he never spoke about either one of them. His older siblings, whom you’d met a handful of times, seemed nice enough, though.
The only other thing that may have been discriminatory against Mr. Perfect, was a small section of marred skin around one of his eyes—an imperfection which somehow made him look like an adorable calico cat. Girls never seemed to mind the mark. It somehow added charm that he had a facial flaw to them. The other boys felt it was manly. (Because why wouldn’t they?)
Not that there were problems with facial markings, of course. While it neither bothered you that he had a facial scar, you felt like if the roles were reversed, people would find a way to avoid you like the plague if you had the same old injury adorning your features. Because that’s just how the universe seemed to go when it came to comparing you both—he was praised, while you were ignored or told he was the cooler/better version of you, while being dismissed.
That was your typical day-to-day. The universe liked to laugh at you, and that’s why you found yourself in the same three schools that he’s attended. You lived close enough to both your elementary and junior high schools where it made sense he may appear there as well, but when you found the perfect princely ass in your high school as well, where you literally picked and applied to, fought tooth and nail to get into that 0.2% acceptance rate, and it wasn’t even nearby where you both lived, now that was when you knew the universe was well and truly out to get you!
“Fantastic,” you muttered under your breath, seething as you recognized his trademark two-toned red and white hair and pretty calm heterochromia eyes. You wanted to laugh at yourself for the irony of never escaping him, but it would only make you feel worse.
So back to point one. Fuck Shoto Todoroki.
Fuck him, and his stupid popularity, and his amazing power, and how good he looked in that grey blazer that offset his CocaCola hair and pastel eyes.
The universe just wasn’t fair.