Midor-able

Love me.

Two simple words echoed in Shoto's mind as he made his way through the bustling crowds of Musutafu City's downtown area. The January wind whipped between the towering skyscrapers, carrying the lingering scent of winter and the promise of snow. Around him, couples hurried past with linked arms and shopping bags, their breaths visible in the crisp air, while street vendors called out advertising takoyaki and steamed buns. The nighttime saw this part of the city come alive with post-holiday energy, teenagers free from school for a few more precious days crowded the arcade entrances, and men in dark suits rushed to catch the train home, their shoes clicking against the sidewalks.

Physically, Shoto was present - dodging other pedestrians, glancing up at the glowing store signs and restaurant fronts, following the directions to the new cafe Midoriya had sent to him. But mentally, he was completely absent, totally distracted by what Ren had said to him on Christmas Eve.

Love me.

He wasn't someone who put too much thought into what words people chose to use, not someone who usually lingered on feelings, but now, weeks later, he found himself stuck on these two words. Even he, someone entirely unversed in human emotion and social interaction, knew something had shifted between them as soon as those words had escaped her lips.

What had she meant? In the moment his body had instinctively responded to her, understanding that she meant "give me all of you and I will give you all of me," be close to me," "melt into me," "do the thing only you can do for me." He had kissed her harder, pulled her up into him closer than he had ever before…because in that moment, it made sense to him on some unknown level. But was it something she had just said in the heat of the moment? Or did she mean something more? Was Ren admitting to something neither of them had ever broached with one another? And if she was, what the fuck was he supposed to do with that information?

What did Shoto know about loving someone? Being loved by someone? Emotions were Ren's language, not his, he was totally out of his depth, consumed by deeper waters than he'd ever known. She had been so different since Christmas Eve; more emotional, more intense, pulling him closer, talking to him more but then sometimes she'd pull away suddenly, close up, become nervous, barely talk to him. Just yesterday, she'd spent an hour telling him about her day, curled against his side on her couch in her new apartment, then suddenly gone quiet and distant when he'd mentioned the future. Ren was an emotional puzzle most of the time, he had started to get used to it, was becoming accustomed to decoding her…but this was something else entirely.

Every conversation they had felt like a trap, like she was looking for the right answer, skirting around the issue, not being honest with him and then ultimately incredibly upset when he didn't say the right thing. It was like she was constantly testing him. It wasn't fair to put him in this position. She was supposed to be his guide in parts of being human that he didn't get. Usually she was so patient and understanding, spelling things out for him. Why wasn't she being straightforward now? Why wouldn't she just come out and say what was on her mind? It was so frustrating, trying to figure her out. This chaos that had taken over his brain was every inch Ren; hypnotising, distracting, confusing, all-consuming…it didn't exist in him a few months ago!

The little bell above the door chimed as he entered the cafe, the warm aroma of coffee and fresh pastries washing over him. The space was modern yet cozy, with exposed brick walls and hanging plants, vintage hero posters framed between industrial-style light fixtures. Old figurines of All Might and other pro-heroes lined the walls in between the cafe's own merchandise. A few of his classmates were gathered around a large table near the window, the lamplight from outside streaming in around them. They all turned to greet him, smiles and gleeful cheers of "happy new year" came his way, the attention enough to make him blush.

Midoriya, sat with his notebook open beside his coffee, his green hair messier than usual in the humid cafe air, called out to him and Shoto noticed a table of girls turn at the call of the name "Todorok". They caught sight of the handsome young hero and turned to whisper to each other. He hurried past them, over to his friends.

He was grateful for the distraction, not training, not talking to his father, just a chance to be a normal teenager. Finally, a chance to not think about Ren. As he greeted his friends with a nod and took a seat next to Midoriya, Mina Ashido leant forwards to the girls at the table, her pink skin practically glowing with excitement as she whispered.

"Can you believe we're going to Ren Ishikawa's birthday party tomorrow?"

"Oh my god, I know!" Uraraka squealed, bouncing slightly in her seat.

"Did you see the photos of her at that charity gala last month?" Yaoyorozu added, her eyes turning darker than anyone had ever seen them. "I would hurt people to get my hands on those earrings."

"Couldn't you just make them…?" Came the hushed murmur from Kirishima at the other end of the table.

"Forget the earrings," Jiro smirked, twirling one of her earphone jacks around her finger. "Did you see who she was talking to? That actor from the new hero movie?"

Amidst the delicate squeals of excitement and nods of disbelief, Shoto inwardly groaned. Why was life this weird paradox of fighting villains one moment and attending parties and galas the next? He didn't sign up for this…not the public side of things. But, he supposed, that was the price of being with a girl constantly in the public eye.

A concession Ren had made to her father, she had agreed to a lavish 20th birthday party if she could avoid public appearances until March. Like any event hosted by the Ishikawa family, the city's elite, pro-heroes, celebrities and even the next generation of pro-heroes were invited to the Ishikawa estate to celebrate the media heiress…and unknown to anyone else, as soon as it turned midnight, she and Shoto were boarding a train to head North for the weekend. A promise he had made her weeks ago, to run away together. Something that had felt so far away, like a dream they barely dared to talk about, was happening tomorrow. First, to get through another goddam party.

"What are you wearing tomorrow, Todoroki?" Kirishima asked innocently, clearly anticipating that Shoto, with his privileged upbringing, may have a better understanding of what was expected of them tomorrow.

"Clothes," Shoto responded plainly, earning a flutter of laughter that echoed around the table. He leant back as a hostess placed his drink in front of him, the ice bumping together in the caramel coloured liquid As she set it down.

"I wonder what Ren will wear," Mina said dreamily, her yellow eyes misting over as she stirred her elaborate, purple drink. "She's so gorgeous, whatever she wears will look amazing."

Without warning, Ren, half-naked and beautiful, breathless, beneath him on Christmas Eve, came into Shoto's mind. The memory was so vivid he could almost smell her perfume, feel the softness of her skin under his fingertips, see the sparkle of their kisses in her pout.

Love me.

"Todoroki," Iida said urgently, pushing his glasses up his nose, "should we order you a new one?" Shoto followed Iida's sharp eyes down to the iced latte in his right hand which had now frozen over completely, frost patterns spiralling across the glass.

"Oh, no, it's fine..." he said quietly and used his left hand to defrost the drink, aware and slightly exasperated by Midoriya's big green eyes looking at him pointedly during the conversation. "Stop staring at me, Midoriya," he said quietly, trying to prevent himself from rolling his eyes as his freckle-faced friend then proceeded to jump in surprise and look up at the ceiling.

"My mom's friend's son works at that department store, you know, the fancy one on The Avenue," Uraraka said suddenly, leaning forward. "He said Ren came in a few days ago to buy jewellery for the party and spent enough to pay off my student debt…eight times over!"

Looking around at the boys gathered at the table, Shoto expected them to be disinterested in the mundane activities of a billionaire media heiress, but Iida, Kirishima and Kaminari all seemed politely invested in the conversation. Midoriya remained loyally transfixed on the ceiling.

"She's kinda weird, don't you think?" Jirou shrugged, absently tapping a rhythm on the table with her fingers. "Living such a lavish lifestyle but writing about setting the world to rights…I just can't believe she's that down to earth."

"Who cares if she's down to earth?" Kaminari joked, looking away from the ceiling as he had been trying to see what Midoriya suddenly found so interesting. He looked back to the girls and grinned. "She's a rebel. It's hot."

Love me.

"Midoriya, how is your training going?" Shoto said suddenly, loudly, far louder than he'd ever spoken in front of his classmates before. Everyone seemed to pause for a second, processing what Shoto had said, wondering why he had chosen to speak more authoritatively than ever before in that moment.

"Oh," Midoriya turned to him and blinked, his green hair shaking a little as he did so, freckles standing out against his surprised blush. "It's going really well!" Shoto felt a warmth of gratitude spread across his chest as Midoriya took the opportunity to open his notebook, ready to divulge everything he had learned over the holidays to his friend.

But even as Midoriya explained at full speed his observations and conclusions from his rigorous training, gesturing enthusiastically with his scarred hands, Shoto still caught snippets of the rest of the conversation between his classmates.

"I heard she is dating that pro hero from the west coast," Mina was saying, her voice dropping to a stage whisper.

"I wonder what food will be at the party," Uraraka said thoughtfully, a finger pressed against her lips.

"Her articles are the most interesting thing about her. Not her dating life," Yaoyorozu countered Mina's gossiping before Jirou added:

"Articles and earrings, right?" She grinned at the class rep.

They speculated on her pretentious, high-flying friends who would be at the party, on her workout regime, on her dating life…no topic was uninteresting to them. It was bizarre, knowing the differences between the public's version of Ren Ishikawa and Shoto's Ren. The one who rolled her eyes at the kind of people her father pushed her to be friends with, while being simultaneously unable to book a train ticket because she'd never done it herself before. The Ren who spent hours writing and rewriting articles until her hands cramped, determined to make a difference despite the constraints of her privileged life. His Ren, who could bring him to his knees with a look but also failed to know how much a single banana might cost.

Ren was absolutely not down to earth in some ways, but a better human being than most heroes he knew. She was undeniably beautiful, reckless and charming, those were the parts of her that seeped out into her public persona, the parts of her that people like Kaminari took notice of. But he knew her, in all her vulnerability, in all her goofiness and stupidity, in all the ways he had started to call her mine.

Love me.

Please go away.

A mile or so away from Shoto and his friends in the cafe, on The Avenue, hidden away in a private room in the city's most luxurious department store was a glittering oasis of opulence. Oval-shaped and lined with floor-to-ceiling mirrors, it reflected the soft golden light from crystal chandeliers, creating an almost ethereal glow. Plush sofas in champagne-coloured velvet were scattered throughout, adorned with white silk cushions. Vases overflowing with white roses were dotted around the room, next to ice buckets of champagne and small plates of petit fours. The entire room smelled far too strongly of perfume, the glittering diamond necklaces on display were sparkling enough to blind you.

In the centre of this luxury, stood on a raised platform, being fussed over by the in-house tailor, was Ren Ishikawa, looking every inch the princess she was often regarded as. Her birthday dress, a beautiful gown of light lilac chiffon, hugged her figure perfectly, while the skirt flowed away from her, giving her an ethereal look. Paired against her dark hair, fair skin and red lips, she could have been mistaken for someone out of a fairytale. Despite the grandeur surrounding her, Ren seemed distracted, her stormy grey eyes unfocused as she absently fiddled with the diamond bracelet that had been placed on her wrist.

The tailor, a petite woman with an impeccable bob and a tape measure around her neck, was fussing around Ren, tutting and muttering under her breath as the teenager refused to listen to her instruction. The jeweller, a short, round man with thick framed glasses, was hanging crystals in her hair. He stood on a high stool beside her, attempting to get the heavy jewels to stay in her silky dark waves.

Beside Ren, standing with a glass of champagne in hand, staring up at her with a concerned look, was Bubbles. True to her name and nature, she was a riot of colour in a psychedelic jumpsuit that somehow managed to incorporate every shade of the rainbow. Her pink hair was styled in two space buns, adding to her otherworldly appearance. She had rose gold glitter freckles on her face and had attracted more attention than Ren when they had entered the department store.

A middle-aged woman with sharp eyes and an even sharper suit stood a few feet behind them, her attention divided between her phone and the proceedings in front of her. This was Mizuki Tanaka, Ren's publicist she had appointed to help with the "anti-hero" brand the public had mistakenly associated with Ren. Mizuki's presence was a constant reminder of the public eye that was always on the Ishikawa heiress. Everything, coupled with the mirrors reflecting Ren's image from every angle, just made the teenager feel boxed in, so pretty and delicate in a cage of glass and luxury.

The tailor and jeweller were in the process of displaying what seemed like the entire inventory of the store's jewellery department to Ren. They enthusiastically shoved ridiculously beautiful pieces in her face, anticipating the moment Ren would squeal in delight and pick one up. Ren looked down, her eyes unfocused, on the diamond necklaces of varying designs that were scattered across the velvet-lined trays they held up to her, each piece more dazzling than the last.

"Miss Ishikawa," the jeweller's voice cut through Ren's reverie, "what do you think of this piece? It would complement your lilac gown beautifully."

Ren blinked, focusing on the necklace being held up for her to inspect. It glittered like it was dancing in front of her eyes. It was undoubtedly stunning, but in her current state of mind, she just could not concentrate on what was being asked of her. "Yeah, sure, it's beautiful," she mumbled.

The tailor and the jeweller exchanged a glance, their brows furrowing in unison. "Which one do you prefer, Miss Ishikawa? There are several here."

"All of it," Ren replied, her tone flat and disinterested.

The two of them then looked past Ren to exchange even more concerned glances with Mizuki. "You... want to layer diamond necklaces? That can look a little... excessive, Miss Ishikawa."

Before Ren could formulate a response, Bubbles, putting down her champagne and clapped her hands together loudly, causing everyone to jump and look around to her in alarm. "You know what?" She interjected, her voice bright and cheery, "I think Ren and I need a moment. Girl talk, you understand." She winked at Mizuki, who looked ready to protest. "Come on, we'll be much more productive after a little chat."

Mizuki hesitated, clearly torn between her desire to move things along and the realisation that a more cooperative Ren would ultimately be better for everyone. With a resigned sigh, she nodded. "Five minutes," she said tersely, ushering the other two adults out of the room.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Bubbles turned to Ren, sighing up at her as the dark haired girl continued to stare absentmindedly into space. Bubbles, tucking a straying pink curl behind her ear, reached into a velvet tray and held up an ornate pair of diamond earrings to Ren to inspect how well they may go with her dress. "You know," Bubbles said slowly, "as much as I love being here to interpret whatever angsty teenage girl drama is going on with you," she said affectionately, "it would be great if you could at least pretend to be interested," but Ren did not register anything she was saying. "If I have to hear Mizuki say "any publicity is good publicity," one more time, I'm going to kill you first, Ren, for asking me to come here-hey!" Bubbles shouted in offence as Ren took a step down onto the carpet and batted Bubbles' hand away, her expression a mix of distress and frustration.

"I'm in love with him, Bubbles," Ren said with teary eyes, folding her arms and turning away dramatically. Bubbles blinked, taking a moment to process this sudden confession….the only man in the room had been that middle aged tailor. Her mind raced, trying to connect the dots. Then, understanding dawned on her face.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, realising Ren must be talking about Shoto. "Ooooh, I see." Noticing the look of utter despair on Ren's face, Bubbles snorted with laughter, "my condolences." Ren shot her a look that could have frozen fire. "Okay, okay," Bubbles backpedaled, holding up her hands in surrender, her jumpsuit crinkling as she moved to pick up her champagne again. "So... does he know how you feel?"

Ren began to pace the room, her reflection multiplied in the mirrors, creating a kaleidoscope of anxious movement and glittering diamonds. Her lilac dress swished around her like something out of a dream. "No! He's so difficult to talk to. Every time I mention anything that could be interpreted that way, he suddenly has to leave or take a call or I'm just met with that... that beautiful, blank face of utter incomprehension." Her eyes softened as she thought of Shoto's adorable confused face.

"So you've tried to tell him?" Bubbles pressed.

Ren's pacing slowed, and she looked a little sheepish. "I mean, I haven't actually…directly…said the words…" Her friend raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "It's not so simple," Ren defended herself. "He's not so simple. He's like... he's like this impossible paradox." She ran a hand through her hair, dislodging the crystals slightly. "He can face down the most terrifying villains without flinching, but show him unexpected affection and he freezes up completely." Ren sank onto a sofa, her shoulders slumping. "It's like he's two different people sometimes. This incredible, powerful hero who can handle anything life throws at him, and then... this boy who seems utterly baffled by basic human interaction."

She looked up at Bubbles, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears and admiration. "You should see him, Bubbs. Put him in a life-or-death situation and he's fine - he's…incredible! But try to hold his hand or kiss his cheek without warning, and he just... stops. Like his brain short-circuits and he has no idea how to respond." Bubbles listened intently, her teasing expression softening into one of understanding.

"And the thing is," Ren continued, her voice dropping to almost a whisper, "it's just makes me love him so much more." She stood up again, resuming her pacing. "But how am I supposed to tell someone like that that I love them?!" Bubbles jumped as the rollercoaster that was Ren Ishikawa's feelings started up again. "How do I say, 'I love you so much that sometimes it physically aches' to someone who looks like he might combust if I hug him for too long?"

Ren's voice cracked slightly. "What if he doesn't feel the same way? What if I say it and he just... stares at me with that stupid, beautiful face? Or worse, what if he feels obligated to say it back even if he doesn't mean it?" Bubbles was struggling to keep up, her head bouncing up and down watching Ren pace and then sit down and then pace again. Ren sank back onto the sofa, burying her face in her hands. "I don't think I could bear it if he didn't feel the same way. I'm... I'm crazy about him, Bubbs."

With a thoughtful look, Bubbles walked over to a nearby display, and picked up an ornate diamond and amethyst tiara from a velvet mannequin head. Walking up to Ren, with a small flourish, she placed it gently on Ren's head, kneeling in front of the birthday girl, her glitter freckles sparkling. "You must be the luckiest, saddest girl to ever wear a tiara," she said, her tone a mix of sympathy and amusement.

Ren looked up, her reflection in the mirror showing a girl who looked every bit a princess, from her perfectly styled hair to her designer dress, now topped with a glittering tiara. The juxtaposition of her regal appearance and her very real, very teenage turmoil was almost comical. To Ren, the girl who had absolutely everything, except him, was a girl who had nothing.

"I want him to love me," Ren said softly, her eyes meeting Bubbles' in the mirror. "What if he doesn't? What if I'm not enough?"

Bubbles sat down next to her friend, taking Ren's hands in her own. "Ren, baby, listen to me. Life is just people being brave enough or crazy enough to ask other people to love them. And you? You are so brave. And you're batshit fucking insane."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Ren's mouth. "I am?"

"Yes!" Bubbles exclaimed. "You're completely mad. Because you're sitting here asking me to sympathise with you…while we're surrounded by more diamonds than I've ever seen in my life, discussing which obscenely expensive necklace you're going to wear to your star-studded birthday party, drinking champagne all while you're tearing your hair out, agonising over telling your equally gorgeous, talented boyfriend that you love him. It's absolutely insane to ask me to give a shit right now." Ren laughed despite herself, some of the tension leaving her shoulders as Bubbles' pushed her dark hair away from her face.

"It's okay to be scared. It's okay to be unsure. But fear and sanity never stopped Ren Ishikawa from doing anything. Why should it now?"

Ren took a deep breath, considering Bubbles' words. "So you think I should just…tell him?"

"I think," Bubbles said, reaching for another pair of earrings, shaped like shooting stars with dangling diamonds as comet debris, "that you should definitely wear these. They're perfect." She smiled at Ren triumphantly, "and you should tell him."

Ren smiled, a genuine, warm smile that lit up her entire face, like the universe had showed her the sign she needed. "Thanks, Bubbs, I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'd buy way too much jewellery."

Outside the cafe, Shoto stood staring down at his phone, the winter wind tousling his hair and numbing his fingers. His breath fogged up the screen in small clouds, creating a hazy filter over the messages he was reading. The street around him was alive with the bustle of shoppers all hurrying inside as the first snowflakes of the night began to fall.

He had come outside to escape the conversation in the cafe, knowing he would go completely mad if he had to hear anymore speculation about Ren's love life. Or Ren in general... so why had he come outside just to open up his messages and talk to her? Surely it cannot be normal to crave somebody this much? Even when she's acting crazy, some part of him wanted to ask her to come be crazy next to him.

He pulled his beanie out of his jacket pocket and put it on, hiding his distinctive red and white hair from passersby as he noticed them nudge each other and glance in his direction. The cafe's warmth still clung to him as he scrolled through their messages, trying and failing to prevent a smile from forming on his lips as he saw the photo exchanges they had shared - terrible angles of their faces while enduring meetings with their fathers, her grey eyes crossed dramatically, his deadpan expression somehow making her laugh every time. His finger hovered over the call button, an almost unconscious movement. Any chance to speak to her was like being offered a remedy for the suffering that was everyday existence.

He had never felt this way about anyone in his life. He wanted her, needed her all the time, made choices to accommodate her, thought of her when he saw her favourite snack on the cafe menu, wanted to protect her, fuck her all the time, see what insane things he could make her say... was that lov-

"Is everything okay, Todoroki?" The little brass bell above the cafe door chimed cheerfully as Midoriya pulled on his winter jacket and stepped outside to join him. His friend's freckled face was pinched with concern as he studied Shoto with those ever-observant eyes. Ever since Midoriya had found out about Ren, he looked at Shoto differently, like he was trying to solve a particularly fascinating puzzle. It was as though learning Shoto could be with someone had transformed him from the cold, detached boy at the sports festival into someone entirely new and worth studying. "Is it Ren?" Shoto looked around in alarm as Midoriya spoke so loudly and so casually. The green-haired boy seemed to recognise his mistake, an apologetic frown crossing his features as the snow began to fall more steadily between them.

"What makes you say that?" Shoto asked plainly, watching a faint blush creep under Midoriya's freckles.

"You look different when you're talking to her... or about her," he whispered, shifting his weight from foot to foot as though physically restraining himself from launching into one of his famous monologues. Shoto felt his face go blank with surprise at his friend's words.

"I do?"

"Well I mean," and suddenly Midoriya's analytical mind was working at full speed, his words tumbling out like they couldn't keep pace with his thoughts, his hands gesturing animatedly as he spoke, "you've changed so much since you met her. You train harder, you focus on work more, you talk more." Shoto watched, a strange feeling igniting in his fingertips as his friend continued, spelling out the clues Shoto had been missing all along. "It's like you're constantly thinking, constantly moving forward with both left and right sides. You've accepted yourself more, accepted all of us more…it's kind of inspiring-"

"Hey!" The two boys jumped as Mina banged on the cafe window to get their attention, her pink skin practically glowing against the frosted glass. "You gotta come see this!" She gestured frantically for them to come back inside. Shoto turned back to Midoriya who was suddenly very embarrassed by his outburst, throwing a hand behind his neck and rubbing his hair, his face turning so red he looked like a strawberry.

"Sorry!" He said suddenly, snow catching in his messy green hair. "It's just," he said as Shoto fell in line beside him and they moved to walk back into the cafe together, "when I get a girlfriend... I hope it's the same."

"Really?" Shoto said flatly, wondering who the hell could possibly want to experience this confusion, this obsession, this constant ache of wanting someone so much it physically hurt sometimes.

"Well, yeah," Midoriya pushed open the cafe door, the warmth and aroma of coffee washing over them as he looked back at Shoto with a small smile, his eyes shining with something like admiration. "Ren makes you stronger, doesn't she?"

The single statement stopped Shoto in his tracks, the door swinging shut behind them. Was that true? Why did he even have to think? Of course it was true. Every push to be better, every drive to improve his control, every step forward he had taken recently - they all led back to her. To protecting her, to being worthy of her, to being someone who could stand beside her without hesitation or shame.

"Guys!" Shoto looked around to see his classmates gathered around Jirou's tablet, the end of the charger cable placed comfortably but unwelcome in Kaminari's mouth, his blonde hair crackling slightly with conducted electricity. The atmosphere in the cafe had shifted, tension replacing the earlier casual warmth as they stared at the screen with looks of shock and awe. It seemed every customer, hostess, even management, had taken out their phones and laptops to look at something.

"What is it?" Midoriya asked as he and Shoto approached, the cafe's gentle background music seeming suddenly too cheerful for the serious expressions on their friends' faces.

"There's a new Stain tape," Yaoyorozu said seriously, glancing up at Shoto quickly, her usually composed features tight with concern. "Like an extended version or something-"

"What?!" Midoriya exclaimed, leaving a stunned Shoto standing in the middle of the cafe, his mind racing. Was it Ren? Had she published the copy they made without telling anyone? Was she so reckless, so uncaring of how this might affect the world he lived in? His stomach dropped as he looked down to his phone. Surely, it couldn't be…could it?

The next morning, the day of Ren Ishikawa's glamorous and unwanted 20th birthday party, started with a sharp knock at her bedroom door. She woke with a start, taking a moment to remember she was in her childhood bedroom. The ornate stained-glass windows of Ishikawa Manor cast a kaleidoscope of colours across her bed - blues and greens from the peacock design her mother had commissioned decades ago.

After a moment of silence, another sharp knock preceded the entrance of Hana, the housekeeper who had been more of a mother to Ren than anyone else in her life. Her salt-and-pepper hair was pulled back in its usual neat bun, her crisp black dress immaculate even at this early hour. But her normally warm face was full of concern, her pink eyes clouded with worry. "Ren," Hana's voice was hushed but urgent, the sleepiness was knocked from Ren's brain as she took in the look of distress and panic on Hana's face. "Your father requests your presence at breakfast. Immediately." Ren's heart skipped a beat. Her father rarely ate breakfast with her, let alone summoned her.

"Why?" She asked as loudly as she dared as Hana bustled to retrieve a silk dressing gown the colour of moonlight, while Ren threw herself out of bed, her bare feet finding her favourite fuzzy slippers.

"I have no idea," Hana said quickly, her hands trembling slightly as she helped Ren into the robe. The older woman's anxiety was infectious, making Ren's stomach churn with dread.

"Is it bad?" The young girl asked, and her stomach plummeted as Hana refused to answer, her silence more telling than any words could be. "Hana?"

"Go!" She pushed her out of her bedroom, out of the familiar comfort of her den and into the terrifying emptiness that was her family home.

As she made her way through the sprawling mansion, each step echoing off the marble floors, Ren couldn't help but feel like a child again. The towering suits of samurai armor, their ancient steel gleaming dully in the morning light, seemed to watch her passage with hollow eyes. The stern-faced portraits of ancestors long gone stared down from their gilded frames, their disapproving gazes following her every move.

She paused briefly before a floor-length mirror, its ornate frame carved with scenes from classical mythology. The girl staring back at her looked far too young and vulnerable for the heiress she was supposed to be - her dark hair tousled from sleep, her grey eyes wide with apprehension, the silk robe making her seem even more delicate than usual. Taking a deep breath that did little to calm her racing heart, Ren steeled herself and continued on her way.

The breakfast room was housed in a massive orangery that jutted out from the main building like a crystal palace. As Ren entered, she was struck by the contrast between the dark, brooding atmosphere of the manor and the light, airy space before her. Sunlight streamed through the glass walls and ceiling, illuminating a sea of greenery and colourful blooms. Hanging baskets overflowed with vibrant flowers, their sweet scent mingling with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries.

At the centre of this floral paradise sat an ornate dining table that could have been pulled from a royal palace. The mahogany surface gleamed beneath a pristine white tablecloth, groaning under the weight silver platters holding towers of delicate pastries, their flaky layers catching the light. Crystal bowls brimmed with exotic fruits in every colour imaginable. A dozen different kinds of jam sparkled in cut-crystal jars like edible jewels. Fine bone china and sterling silver place settings caught the morning light, creating tiny rainbows that danced across the white tablecloth. It was a display of opulence that would have impressed anyone else, but to Ren, it was just another Friday morning.

Akira Ishikawa sat at the head of the table, his imposing figure a stark contrast to the delicate floral displays and china tea cups around him. He was already impeccably dressed in a charcoal grey suit, his silver hair perfectly styled, his sharp blue eyes fixed on the tablet in his hand. He looked like what he was - one of the most powerful men in the country, a man accustomed to absolute control. The staff hovered nearby, refilling his coffee cup and adjusting plates with practiced efficiency. As Ren approached, they seemed to melt into the background. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with one of the gleaming silver knives laid out on the table.

"Sit," Akira commanded, not looking up from his tablet.

Ren complied, sinking into the chair to her father's right. Her eyes darted around, seeking some clue from the staff, but they all seemed determined to avoid her gaze. The knot in her stomach tightened with each passing second of silence.

"What's going-" she began, but was cut short as Akira suddenly tossed a newspaper onto her plate. It landed with a sharp clatter against the fine china, causing Ren to flinch.

"Well?" Akira's voice was deceptively calm, like the surface of a lake just before a storm.

With trembling hands, Ren picked up the paper. The headline screamed at her in bold black type: "An Heiress in Love?" Her heart plummeted, her blood turning to ice in her veins. The article beneath was peppered with quotes that were uncomfortably familiar - fragments of the conversation she'd had with Bubbles in the department store. The private words she had spoken in what she thought was a secure space now stared back at her in stark black and white. Someone had overheard them, and now her most intimate feelings for Shoto Todoroki were splashed across the front page for all to see. Thank God she had never mentioned his name.

"Who the fuck is it?" Akira's question cut through the fog of panic in Ren's mind like a knife.

She looked up at her father, her mouth dry. Akira Ishikawa was a man accustomed to control - control of his empire, his image, and above all, his family. The fury in his eyes told Ren that he felt that control slipping, and there was nothing more dangerous than her father when he felt threatened.

"I want a name, Ren. Now."

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