The sterile white of the hospital room was broken only by the soft glow of the afternoon sun filtering through the curtains. Rei Todoroki lay exhausted against the pillows, her white hair damp with perspiration, but her expression was one of pure relief. In her arms, she cradled two bundles that had just entered the world.
"Twins," the doctor announced with a smile, though there was a hint of something else in his tone as he glanced at Endeavor. "Both boys are healthy."
Enji Todoroki stood at his wife's bedside, his imposing figure casting a shadow across the room. His turquoise eyes were fixed on the infants with an intensity that made the medical staff shift uncomfortably.
The older twin had the most peculiar appearance. Half of his hair was pure white like his mother's, while the other half was bright red like his father's. And his eyes... one grey, one turquoise. Heterochromia. Enji's breath caught in his throat.
"This one will be called Shoto," he declared, his voice thick with barely contained excitement.
The younger twin was different. His hair was completely red vibrant crimson that seemed to glow in the hospital lighting. Both of his eyes were grey, inherited solely from his mother. He was already squirming more than his brother, tiny fists waving in the air.
"And this one?" Rei asked softly, looking down at her second son with gentle eyes.
"Aki," Enji said after a moment, though his attention remained primarily on Shoto. The older twin represented everything he had been working toward, the perfect combination of fire and ice, visible even at birth.
Rei noticed where her husband's gaze lingered. Her heart sank slightly, but she pulled both babies closer to her chest protectively.
…
When they arrived home later that week, the Todoroki household was already in chaos.
Touya, now eight years old, with predominantly white hair accented by red patches and turquoise eyes, stood at the entrance with Fuyumi and Natsuo.
Fuyumi, seven, tried to maintain a cheerful expression despite the tension in the air. Four-year-old Natsuo clung to his sister's hand, uncertain about the new additions to the family.
But it was Touya's reaction that would haunt Rei for years to come.
The moment he saw Shoto in his mother's arms, saw that distinctive half-and-half hair, those heterochromatic eyes, something inside him snapped. His face twisted with rage and desperation.
"TAKE A LOOK AT ME!" Touya screamed, flames suddenly erupting from his palms. "I'M RIGHT HERE! LOOK AT ME!" He lunged forward, fire dancing along his arms, reaching for the infant Shoto.
"TOUYA, NO!" Rei gasped, turning away to shield both babies with her body.
But Endeavor was faster. His massive hand caught Touya by the shoulder, yanking him back with enough force to send the boy sprawling across the floor. The flames extinguished instantly.
"Enough," Enji's voice was cold and final.
Touya looked up at his father from the ground, tears streaming down his face, mixing with the pain from his overheated skin. "But Dad... you said—"
"I said ENOUGH." Enji's tone left no room for argument.
Fuyumi rushed to help Touya up, her own eyes glistening with tears. Natsuo had started crying openly.
Rei stood frozen, clutching both infants to her chest. Shoto remained eerily calm throughout the entire ordeal, barely making a sound. Aki, however, had begun to wail at the top of his tiny lungs.
…
The years that followed made it impossible to miss how different the twins were. The contrast didn't arrive all at once. It unfolded quietly, day by day, in the smallest habits and reactions.
Shoto was a remarkably calm baby. He rarely cried or fussed, and seemed content to simply observe the world around him with those mismatched eyes. When he did make noise, it was usually because Aki had somehow invaded his space, which was often.
Aki never seemed to slow down. From the moment he could move, he wriggled, babbled, laughed, and kicked with an energy that filled every room he was in, leaving exhaustion in its wake.
By the time they were three, the difference was impossible to ignore.
"Natsu-nii is sleeeeeping!" Aki's voice rang out one Saturday morning at 6 AM.
Natsuo, buried under his blankets, groaned. "Aki, no—"
Too late.
The three-year-old launched himself onto his brother's back with the force of a tiny missile. "WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP! The sun is awake so you should be awake too!"
"OOF—Aki, you're—get off—" Natsuo flailed, half-asleep and completely unprepared for the assault.
"Natsu-nii's blanket looks like a burrito! Are you a burrito, Natsu-nii? Can I eat you?" Aki started making exaggerated chomping noises.
"FUYUMI!" Natsuo called desperately. "HELP!"
Fuyumi appeared in the doorway, already dressed despite the early hour, and sighed the sigh of someone who'd been through this exact scenario at least twenty times. "Aki, come on. Let Natsuo be. He will wake up on his own."
"But he's been sleeping FOREVER! That's like... um... a whole million hours!"
Aki bounced on Natsuo's back. "Lazy Natsu-nii! Lazy lazy lazy!"
"I want to die-Omph" Natsuo mumbled into his pillow only to be jumped on again by little Aki.
"OKAY—OOF—OKAY, I'LL—UH—WAKE U-OOF-P!" Natsuo quickly sat up, swatting Aki off him with a grumble as he pushed himself into a sitting position.
Aki, already bouncing off, zipped out of the room like a blur, dragging his stuffed bear along behind him.
Natsuo, watching him go, flopped back onto the bed with a lazy grin, pulling the blanket back over his head. "Five more minutes…" he mumbled, eyes already starting to flutter shut.
Natsuo woke up to find Aki sitting cross-legged beside his bed, staring at him intensely.
"...How long have you been there?" Natsuo asked, deeply unsettled.
"Forever!" Aki declared. Then, completely unprompted, he pulled out a marker he'd stolen from Fuyumi's desk.
"What are you—Aki, NO—"
But Aki was already drawing, his tongue poking out in concentration as he gave Natsuo a magnificent curly mustache across his upper lip.
"There!" Aki announced proudly when he finished. "Now Natsu-nii looks like a fancy man! A fancy gentleman man!"
Natsuo scrambled out of bed and ran to the mirror. The mustache was bright purple and definitely not washable marker.
"AKI!"
But the three-year-old was already planting a wet, sloppy kiss on Natsuo's cheek. "Love you, fancy Natsu-nii!" Then he darted out of the room, giggling manically.
Natsuo stood there, purple mustache and all, torn between fury and disgust. He wanted to chase after Aki, grab him, and show him exactly what happened when you mess with someone's face. But then he glanced at the clock… He froze.
6:30 a.m.
"NATSUO TODOROKI!…"
'damn'