The Quirk Research Foundation's annual gala was in full swing; celebrating twenty-five years of pioneering research into quirk origin and applications meant that this was always an evening for the most high profile individuals in the country. Hosted in Musutafu's Imperial hotel, with its opulent decor, high ceilings, elaborate floral displays and grand, golden ballroom, it was certainly the kind of place Ren Ishikawa should feel at home.
But she never did. Despite looking the part, acting the part, being born to play the role….something inside of her constantly fidgeted in discomfort, as the city's elite practically bowed to her and her father, as the cameras flashed and the photographers called her name, begging her to smile in their direction. The entire place was filled with a jubilant, festive, charitable atmosphere and beautiful, powerful people. But Ren felt a little distant to it all, as though she could hear the sounds of the party going on in another room of the hotel, despite being at the centre of it all.
Stood in a velvet black, off-the-shoulder dress with an ornate gold brooch of a peacock pinned to her chest, its gold feathers fanning out, covering her right shoulder, Ren looked every inch the billionaire's daughter. With gold and diamonds glittering on her wrists and ears, a grey shimmer on her eyelids and soft, glossy lips, she made heads turn and men call her name. But she only wanted to see one person, her eyes scanned the room for him as she stood behind her father but Shoto Todoroki was nowhere to be seen.
Ren sighed, trying to prevent her shoulders slumping in disappointment. The truth was, sometimes Shoto could be right next to her but it was like he was invisible…or as though he weren't there at all. He retreated into himself often and it was hard to get him to open up. When she was younger she would tease him, poke at him, irritate him until flames sparked around his left side and he gave her a piece of his mind. Because it was the closest she could ever get, to figure out what was in his head…now that they were older though, that approach seemed, well, childish. But when Ren would ask him: "what's in your head? What's the matter? What can I do for you?" it never worked. Emotions didn't seem to exist inside Shoto a lot of the time; he was just detached from them, unable to tap into them or unwilling to. His emotional inhibitions made Ren feel as though he was always holding back. In bed, he never felt open enough to ask for what he wanted even if Ren begged him to take it. All she was thinking about at the moment was how to make him happy, make him comfortable, but how was that possible when they barely saw one another?
She ducked with a smile beneath her father's arm as he raised it to reach around her back and squeeze her affectionately for the cameras. From the incessant flashing of cameras in front of them a couple of television presenters Ren recognised from her recent circuit on morning talk shows, approached. Akiko Tanaka, a young but astute presenter with observant brown eyes, and her co-host, Marcus Chen, a few years younger than her but equally sharp in his charcoal grey suit, walked up to the famous Ishikawa duo with microphones outstretched, a cameraman trailing behind them.
"Miss Ishikawa!" Akiko bowed her head in greeting, "you look beautiful! In fact," her bright brown eyes twinkled, "you look just like your mother, in that spy movie of hers, what was it called-"
"Kill Me/Kiss Me," Marcus informed her earning a sweet smile of affection exchanged between Akira Ishikawa and his daughter who was gritting her teeth; her father never spoke about her mother anymore, let alone reminisced about her career. "Ren, I know you're studying at the moment," Marcus said humorously, "but have you ever considered following in your mother's footsteps?" Ren had to prevent herself from laughing.
"See," she said with a giggle, "the thing about that is it would require actual talent," she continued but the presenters were already laughing, completely charmed by her, "of which I possess none."
"Well you're a great liar," Ren's stomach dropped as Akiko spoke.
"Sorry?" Ren's voice was barely audible above the noise of the gala.
"Yes, you are!" Akiko laughed, "you are an exceptionally talented rising writer, your articles, though published as an undergraduate, have made waves in all sorts of circles! Even pro-heroes and politicians are being asked about them!" A wave of relief washed over Ren upon hearing this and she shrugged guiltily.
"Well I feel like I can't really boast about how incredibly talented I am in that regard because my father will say something like-"
"There's a fine line between confidence and arrogance, darling," her father said with a smile but Ren shot a knowing look at the two presenters.
"I'm pretty sure that's a myth," she quipped and fell back into the ease of being interviewed. She was good at this, good at talking, charming, humble, smart and pretty, everything you would want to see of a young celebrity. She could feel her father's approval in the warm smiles he shot at her as they spoke, the squeeze of his hand against her arm as he embraced her.
"Your work for the university newspaper," Marcus continued, "it's quite... thought-provoking. Some might even say it has a somewhat anti-hero tone to it."
Ren's heart skipped a beat, caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone. This was supposed to be a light-hearted interview, focusing mainly on what she was wearing, not what she was working on. But she didn't let her surprise show on her face. Instead, she tilted her head thoughtfully, her expression open and earnest. The picture of professionalism.
"I think that's an unfair characterisation of my work," she said, her voice steady and confident. "If anything, I'd say I'm on the same side as heroes. We both fight for justice – they do it with their quirks and their courage, and I do it by putting pen to paper. Different methods, same goal-"
"And you're not worried about making any powerful enemies at the Hero Public Safety Commission?-"
"Or making any enemies more powerful by feeding into a anti-hero-society rhetoric?" Ren blinked between the two presenters, wondering where their love for the charming heiress had evaporated to- since when were these stupid spotlights an interrogation? Akiko and Marcus, their eyes glinting in the golden light of the ballroom, were hungry to watch the heiress trip up, to have a reason to tarnish her reputation as a media darling. Wouldn't that make great TV?
Ren felt her father shift beside her, about to excuse her work as the rebellious actions of a naive, young journalist. Ren would not let anyone dictate the narrative.
"If the price of uncovering the truth and strengthening institutions like the Hero Public Safety Commission is encouraging a narrative that questions the current system, then so be it." She paused emphatically, letting her words sink in before continuing. "Our society has become complacent, content to let heroes shoulder all the responsibility while we turn a blind eye to systemic issues. My work isn't about tearing down heroes – it's about holding all of us accountable. If that makes some people uncomfortable then good. Change rarely comes from comfort." She tilted her head sweetly at the two presenters, a bright smile on her face as though she were having a pleasant conversation, although the look in her eye invited them to challenge her again. I fucking dare you.
"She's not the little girl who left, is she?" Her father said suddenly, his voice full of warmth and pride as he looked at his daughter fondly. "I'm very proud of her work. Ren has always been a bit of a rebel, I'm just glad she's channeling that energy into her writing- or else I could have been in for a lot of trouble!" Ren let out a slow, controlled breath, her shoulder's releasing the tension that had built up in the last five minutes. She went back to smiling, tossing her dark hair behind her shoulder, her eyes sparkling at the cameras.
Entering the ballroom, Shoto shifted uncomfortably in his suit, wondering why being a hero meant changing your clothes so often. The room felt stuffy, people crammed together in designer dresses, gold chairs and crystal chandeliers were competing for space, the clinking of champagne glasses filled the air. His father's imposing shadow fell across his face as he followed him; cutting through the crowd with his large frame, Endeavour nodded curt greetings to those who approached him, occasionally he introduced Shoto to those who saw the shock of red and white hair behind him.
As he walked behind his father, Shoto realised the calls of "Todoroki" were for him, not for the pro-hero Endeavour. He noticed women turning to smile at him appreciatively, even the limited but irritating paparazzi and journalists in the room seemed to swoon over the idea of getting a photograph of him. This was certainly the worst part of the job; playing this game, the role and pressure of celebrity bore down on his shoulders alongside the family legacy his father was desperate for him to uphold. The hero-in-training adjusted the cuff of his shirt beneath his blazer, trying not to blush as girls his age smiled at him in a way he never noticed before, but his mismatched eyes were scanning the room for one girl in particular. And then he saw her.
The prettiest thing he had very seen; Ren was stood beside her father, talking animatedly to a couple of TV presenters, making everyone laugh. In a black dress with a gold embellishment over her shoulder, dark waves of hair, her lips shimmering and eyes sparkling, Shoto felt something similar to his ice melting away from his right side. A tiny spark of pride flared into life in his chest; that pretty girl, the one people talked about, the talented writer, the one making everyone smile, wanted him as much as he wanted her. The words caught in his throat whenever he thought to tell her that he liked her, though.
It took him a moment to realise his father was headed straight towards Ren and Akira Ishikawa as they said their goodbyes to the cameras.
"Akira!" Ren stopped abruptly to prevent herself walking into her father as Endeavour greeted them. Her heart skipped a beat as she walked out from behind her father to see Shoto, peering around his father for her. A small smile cracked on her face as a memory of three year old Shoto sprung to life in her mind; his little face peering around his father's legs to see who kept throwing stones into his garden. Their eyes met and for the briefest of moments they felt as though the world around them faded to background noise, their fathers' conversation became white noise as they took in the sight of each other. Did she know what she looked like to him? Did he know what he did to her?
Hi.
Hey.
Want to get out of here?
Yes.
"Ren!" Sound returned, unwanted, to her ears as her father gestured to Shoto, "you remember Shoto, he's top of his class at UA, I hear!" Ren tried to prevent herself sighing in frustration; could her father make his intentions any more obvious? She cringed inwardly.
"Hello, Ren," Endeavour said with what Ren assumed he assumed was a smile, "I hear you're a rising star at your university paper," he shot Shoto a knowing look. Ren shuddered a little at their fathers' unsubtle attempt to at matchmaking. To everyone's surprise, it was Shoto, not Ren, who put them in their place.
"You don't have to sell us on each other," he said in a bored voice, "we're already friends." Ren's shoulders shook as she bit down on her lower lip to stop herself laughing.
"Oh," Akira said softly, "good," he leant over to his daughter and kissed her cheek, "we'll leave you two to catch up." Nodding innocently, Ren smiled in goodbye to Endeavour, finally able to breathe as the air cooled when the flame hero moved away. Even Shoto seemed to breathe easier as his father left them to catch up with the media mogul. The teenagers watched their fathers walk away, waiting until their was significant distance between the four of them before Shoto and Ren could look at one another again.
"Hi, Todoroki."
"Hey, Ishikawa." Okay, maybe looking at each other was a bad idea; did the temperature of the room increase for any one else? Or was it just between these two that the air became charged with the potential of something electric? Ren gulped as she watched Shoto's eyes trail across her collarbone, she could practically feel his fingertips gliding across her skin. Could he feel it too? This pull, this heat? Being without him for a week felt like an eternity to her, was he aching for her too? Something told her he might be as his eyes were caught on her lips as she bit them, trying desperately to keep herself from falling apart right there and then.
"We should," Ren cleared her throat, looking around them to make sure no one had caught on to what was happening in this small corner of the ballroom, "probably, at least, pretend to be talking until Shoto Todoroki inevitably walks away from me."
"Would I do that?"
"Of course, I'm the girl your father approves of," Ren smiled to someone across the room, "the socialite, the celebrity; I should be your worst nightmare." Of course, somehow, none of that was true at all, but Shoto understood exactly what she meant. He nodded at her, watching the way a small blush of pink crept onto her cheeks.
"It's strange," he said quietly, "pretending to not know you." The media heiress tried to stop herself smiling as Shoto began to walk past her; "given that I could probably draw every inch of you from memory." She turned, speechless, to watch him walk away from her.
I'm sorry, I have to make the gala two chapters, it is just too long.
I hope you enjoyed it! Any ideas for the next chapter?