This is one of the cases where there is a massive change from canon and it might be the point that might turn many around on this but I found that it stuck out well on this chapter.

Shoto gets advice from an unlikely source.

Shoto Todoroki walked through the UA campus, the crisp evening air brushing against his face. The day had been long—training, classes, and, of course, enduring Saiko Intelli's relentless presence. She was intelligent, no doubt, and articulate in a way that commanded attention. But Shoto couldn't shake the tension that lingered whenever she was around. Her questions were too pointed, her interest too calculated. It left him feeling drained, like he was constantly under scrutiny.

As he walked, Shoto's mind wandered. He thought about the times he'd spent with Momo—quiet moments during study sessions or strategy discussions for team exercises. He'd never given much thought to why her presence felt different, but the contrast between her and Saiko was undeniable. With Momo, he felt... calm. The last time he'd felt that way had been with his mother, years ago, before everything had gone wrong.

That thought struck him harder than he expected, and his steps slowed. He glanced around, realizing he'd unconsciously made his way toward the common area near the dorms. A faint hum of conversation drew his attention, and he spotted Momo sitting at one of the outdoor tables, a notebook open in front of her. She was alone, her head tilted slightly as she scribbled notes, her brows furrowed in concentration.

For a moment, Shoto hesitated. He wasn't sure why. But then, as if his feet had made the decision for him, he found himself walking toward her.

"Yaoyorozu," he said softly as he approached.

Momo looked up, surprised but not displeased to see him. "Todoroki. Is everything alright?"

He nodded, though his expression was thoughtful. "May I join you?"

"Of course," Momo said, gesturing to the seat across from her. She closed her notebook slightly, her attention shifting to him. "Did you need something?"

Shoto sat down, his movements deliberate. "No. I just... thought it would be nice to talk."

Momo blinked, clearly caught off guard by the admission. "Oh. Well, alright. What's on your mind?"

He hesitated, his gaze drifting to the table. "It's been a long day."

Momo nodded sympathetically. "It has. Training was especially tough."

Shoto glanced at her, his lips twitching into the faintest of smiles. "That's not the part that's been difficult."

Momo tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. "Then what is?"

Shoto paused, his fingers brushing the edge of the table. "I've been... trying to figure something out. About people. How they make you feel."

Momo's expression softened. "That's not always easy."

"It's not," Shoto agreed, his voice quiet. He met her gaze, his heterochromatic eyes steady. "But being here with you... it feels different. Better."

Momo's cheeks flushed slightly, but she didn't look away. "I'm glad to hear that."

Shoto nodded, the weight that had been pressing on him all day easing slightly. For the first time in what felt like hours, he felt at peace.

Scene skip

The rhythmic clatter of the train filled the cabin, a steady background to Shoto Todoroki's thoughts. He sat by the window, his chin resting on his hand, staring at the blur of scenery rushing past. The weekend break from UA should have felt like a reprieve, but his mind was anything but calm.

It wasn't just the usual noise of the school—the constant training, the endless projects, the hum of energy from his classmates. He was used to all of that. What grated on him now was something else entirely.

Saiko Intelli.

The girl had a way of digging under his skin, not with malice but with her incessant presence. She was always asking questions, always probing, her sharp intellect carving into every word he said. Shoto had dealt with persistent people before—heroes, villains, even his father—but Intelli was different. She was relentless in a quiet, calculated way, and it left him feeling drained.

For a moment, he let out a soft sigh, his breath fogging the window. What should I do about her? It wasn't like he could just tell her to back off—he wasn't sure how, and even if he did, he doubted she'd take it seriously. His usual approach of quiet endurance wasn't working either. Every conversation with her felt like walking through a minefield.

His thoughts shifted, almost involuntarily, to Momo. Working with her had always been different. Her calm presence and steady demeanor made everything feel... easier. With her, he didn't feel the need to guard his words or tread lightly. She was someone he trusted.

The train jolted slightly as it slowed into the station. Shoto rose from his seat, adjusting the bag on his shoulder as the doors hissed open. Whatever answers he was searching for, he doubted he'd find them here. For now, he just wanted the quiet he always found in his mother's presence.

Scene skip

The hospital's hallways were quiet, the sterile smell of disinfectant lingering in the air. Shoto walked toward his mother's room, the familiar path easing some of the tension in his chest. But as he approached, he slowed, his footsteps faltering. Through the small window in the door, he saw her—not alone, but sitting across from a man with jet-black hair and pale, scarred skin.

Shoto's grip on the doorknob tightened. Toya.

It had been months since the first time he'd walked into this room to find his eldest brother sitting there, and the memory still lingered. He remembered how his entire body had tensed, how the sight of Dabi sitting there, so casually, had sent a jolt of anger and confusion through him. But then his mother had spoken, her voice calm but firm, reminding him that in this room there wasn't a thing like hero and villain. Just two brothers on different sides.

"Are you just going to stand there, or are you coming in?" Toya's gravelly voice broke through Shoto's thoughts. He glanced up to see his brother looking directly at him, a faint smirk on his face.

Rei turned her head toward the door, her eyes softening when she saw Shoto. "Come in, Shoto," she said gently. "We were just having tea."

Reluctantly, Shoto pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room was as it always was—bright but sterile, a small table by the window cluttered with tea cups and a plate of untouched cookies. Rei sat on one side, serene as ever, while Toya lounged on the couch, his long coat draped over the armrest.

"Still calling me Toya, huh?" Toya said, leaning back with a grin. "Guess that's better than calling me 'Dabi.'"

Shoto ignored the jab, moving to his usual seat by the window. He glanced at his mother, who gave him a small smile before returning her gaze to the garden outside.

For a while, the room was silent, the only sounds the faint hum of the heater and the clink of Rei's cup as she set it down. Shoto could feel Toya's eyes on him, waiting, but he refused to look up.

Eventually, Toya spoke again. "So, what's eating you, little brother? You've got that same broody look as always."

Shoto sighed, his fingers brushing against the edge of the table. "I didn't come here to talk to you."

"Sure you didn't," Toya said, his smirk widening. "But you're here, and I'm here, so why not make it interesting? Spill it."

"Toya," Rei said softly, her tone carrying a quiet reprimand.

He raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. I'll behave. Kind of."

Shoto hesitated, his gaze fixed on the table. Then, almost against his better judgment, he said, "There's someone at school. She's... difficult."

Toya raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Oh? Do tell."

Shoto frowned, his voice low. "She's always asking questions. Always... there. It's exhausting."

"And this bothers you because?" Toya asked, his tone light but laced with curiosity.

"Because I don't know how to deal with her," Shoto said, his fingers tightening against the table.

Toya chuckled, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "Ah, I see. A girl who gets under your skin. Sounds like trouble."

"It's not like that," Shoto said quickly, his tone sharp. "She's just... different."

"And what about the other girl?" Toya asked, his voice softening slightly. "The one you're not talking about but can't stop thinking about."

Shoto stiffened, his eyes flicking to his brother.

"Relax," Toya said, his smirk fading into something more genuine. "It's obvious. You like her, don't you?"

Shoto didn't respond, his gaze dropping back to the table.

"Look," Toya said, his voice unusually serious. "I'm not exactly a role model for relationships, but here's the thing: people like that first girl? The ones who push and pull and make you second-guess everything? They're poison. But the other one? The one who makes you feel... lighter? That's the one you hold on to."

Shoto looked up, surprised by the sincerity in his brother's tone.

"Take it from me," Toya continued, leaning back with a sigh. "If you've got someone who makes you feel like you can actually breathe, don't let them go. You won't get many chances like that."

For a moment, the room was quiet. Rei smiled softly, her gaze flicking between her sons. "I think that's the best advice you've given, Toya."

"Don't get used to it," Toya muttered, though the faintest hint of a smile lingered on his lips.

Shoto nodded slowly, the weight on his chest lifting just slightly. "Thank you."

I believe that none of us were really surprised when they revealed that Dabi was Toya in the original series. That was a surprise to actually no one.

I disliked how his fate was handled, among many things in the original series.

I have been a sucker for that sort of relationship between two brothers, especially in the way that fanart spread around the two.

I had to do something with it hence why I went for this solution. And the advice is also how I came up with the name for the fic.

And if any of you can help me, I'm looking for a picture of Toya protecting Shoto, saying that it was enough, most likely against Endeavor, shouting "You've done enough already! He's just four!"

I haven't been able to find it back ever since the revelation. Ah well.

Saluut.