Ethereal ◆ Shoto Todoroki x Reader

55.5 | Escape

It burns.

Hiro's eyes feel like they're on fire. But he can't leave yet. His father is still in here. He's somewhere, Hiro knows it. He can't let him die.

No matter how judgmental. No matter how rude. Now matter how fake.

Because if King Mizuki dies, then all his responsibilities will fall down on Hiro, crushing him with no guide and crowning him king. He's studied all his life to become king, yes, but he's not ready. He doesn't think he'll ever be ready. 

He can't be responsible for hundreds of lives. He'd mess it up. He knows he would.

But part of Hiro also knows that his heart still sees King Mizuki as his father. 

He can't forget who taught him everything he knows. He can't forget who bandaged him when he was hurt. He can't forget who sang to him when he was little, until his mother died and his sister came to the palace.

He wants to forget, because King Mizuki is not the man he was back then. But he can't let someone die when he could prevent it.

He runs through the collapsing palace, silently cursing the tight outfit he's wearing. 

Flames dance around him, and his ears are ringing, and he wants to stop more than anything, but he can't. He can't. 

He can't.

He hears pounding and cries from behind him, and he spins around. A person is trapped in a room.

But only seconds before he goes in that room himself, the ceiling falls, making it unreachable. The screams die.

He can only assume the person did also.

He continues down the hall wiping tears from his face. He can't use his quirk because he can't see the moon, so he feels useless. broken like the glass on the floor.

And then he sees a window, with a pile of rubble beside it.

And limping to the window is none other than King Mizuki. His father.

His father is alive.

His heart settles as he watches his father escape, but he reminds himself that he has to get out also. He goes to the now open window himself, tears streaking down his cheeks.

Right before he jumps out of the window, right before he leaves the flames, he takes one glance at the collapsed ceiling . . .

 . . . and he sees an arm.

His heart speeds up again, and he grabs the arm, feeling for a pulse. There's no way this person could've survived. As expected, the arm is cold, even despite the flames around it. There's no heartbeat. He lifts the wood off of the rest of the body, and it reveals a girl.

Blonde, stringy hair and blood running down her face. 

She was crushed. Her lips are blue, which Hiro recognizes as a sign of asphyxiation. One of the worst ways to go. 

She suffocated.

Hiro resists the urge to throw up. 

His vision is getting blurrier by the second, and he almost misses the person laying beside the pile.

Is that . . . is that Takahashi?

He doesn't bother feeling for a pulse, because even if he's dead, he wants to at least give his friend a proper burial.

He doesn't have time to cry. No time to mourn. He wipes his tears and pulls the guard onto his back.

Hiro would give anything to see those moon colored eyes smile again. 

Before taking the body and jumping out of the window, he takes one last look at the dead girl on the floor, her body crushed. 

Her blue lips are turned up in a smile, as if she died happy. Hiro hopes so.

And then a thought hits him like a hurricane.

Did . . . did King Mizuki even try to save the girl? It's clear she hasn't been dead long. Takahashi must've tried to save her.

Only someone as strong as Hiro's father could've with the pile on top of her. And surely he must've seen Takahashi's body as he escaped.

Hiro's throat goes dry. He doesn't want to think about it. 

No more thinking. No more grieving. Just doing.

He jumps out of the window, his eyes feeling like hell itself, and hears his ankle snap.

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