Three years had passed since the "real" wedding, and the Todoroki villa had transformed from a quiet sanctuary into a place of soft anticipation. The heavy, dark furniture had been replaced with rounded edges and plush rugs, and the nursery-painted a soothing seafoam green-was finally ready.
(Y/N) sat on the back porch, her feet propped up on a cushioned ottoman. She was, as Mirko affectionately put it, "dangerously close to popping." Her pregnancy had been healthy, but the last few weeks had turned her into a restless, glowing version of herself.
A familiar warmth settled beside her. Shoto didn't even have to say a word; she knew his presence by the way the air around her became perfectly regulated. He sat down and immediately placed his hand on the high curve of her stomach.
"He's kicking again," Shoto murmured, his voice dropping into that low, tender tone he only used at home.
"He's practicing his 'Heaven-Piercing Ice Wall' on my ribs," (Y/N) gasped softly, leaning her head back against Shoto's shoulder. "He's definitely your son, Shoto. He's stubborn and he has way too much energy."
Shoto smiled, a soft, paternal glow in his eyes. He leaned down and pressed a kiss directly to the fabric of her dress, right over where a small foot was pushing out. "Just a few more days. Then you can have your ribs back."
^ • ^
Even after three years, Shoto's protective streak hadn't faded, it had simply evolved. He had taken a leave of absence from his agency for the final month of the pregnancy. The "Number Two Hero" was currently spending his days timing (Y/N)'s Braxton Hicks contractions and organizing the diaper bag with the precision of a military operation.
"I saw the news today," (Y/N) teased, reaching over to ruffle his dual-colored hair. "I talked to Fuyumi on phone. She said you've called her three times this week just to ask if Mom's old ginger tea recipe is safe for 'third-trimester heartburn.'"
Shoto flushed slightly, though he didn't look away. "It's a valid question. Fuyumi was just being loud. Besides, she's the one who sent over those tiny hero-themed onesies yesterday."
"The ones with 'My Dad Can Freeze Your Dad' on them?" (Y/N) laughed, wincing slightly as the baby shifted. "I think those were from Bakugo, actually. He's too proud to admit he went shopping in the baby section."
^ • ^
As the sun began to set, casting long, golden shadows across the garden, Shoto pulled (Y/N) closer into his side. He looked out at the peaceful grounds, then back at his wife.
There was no talk of "heirs" anymore. There was no pressure for the child to have a specific Quirk or to carry the burden of a family name. This child was coming into a world where he was wanted for nothing more than the fact that he existed.
"My father called today," Shoto said quietly. "He wanted to know if we needed the car prepped for the hospital run. He's... he's already bought a crib for his house."
(Y/N) smiled, placing her hand over Shoto's. "And my father sent over that hand-carved rocking horse. I think the grandfathers are already competing for 'Favorite Relative.'"
Shoto huffed a small, happy laugh. "Let them. As long as they know I'm the one who gets to hold him first."
He turned to her, his gaze intense and full of a love that had only deepened with time. He cupped her face, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. "Thank you, (Y/N). For all of this. For not giving up on the 'icy-hot jelly-man' back when he didn't know how to be a husband."
"I told you," she whispered, leaning in to kiss him softly. "You were always my number one. Contract or no contract."
As the stars began to peek through the twilight, the two of them sat in the quiet of their home, waiting for the new life they had created together to finally begin. The Contract was a forgotten relic of a different life; in its place was a real family, built on choice, laughter, and a love that had truly burned through the ice.
^ • ^
The calm of the night was shattered at exactly 2:14 AM.
A sharp, wet *snap* sounded in the quiet bedroom, followed by (Y/N) sitting bolt upright with a gasp that was half-shock and half-agony.
"Shoto!" she gasped, clutching the sheets. "The... the water. It's happening. Now!"
Shoto was awake before she even finished her sentence. The "Number Two Hero" vaulted out of bed with a speed that would have put a villain to shame, but his usual cool-headed composure had vanished instantly. He tripped over the rug, scrambled for his phone, and accidentally froze the bedside lamp solid in his panic.
"Okay. Okay. Breathe. I'm breathing. Are you breathing?" he stammered, his eyes wide and wild. He scooped her up in a bridal carry, but as he moved toward the door, a massive contraction hit.
(Y/N) let out a yell that made the windows rattle, her fingers digging into Shoto's shoulders with superhuman strength. "SHOTO TODOROKI! If you don't get me to the hospital right now, I am going to melt your right side and shatter your left! You did this to me! You and your... your 'practice'!"
"I know! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Shoto cried. He was actually beginning to tear up, the sight of her in pain causing him more distress than any injury he'd ever sustained in battle. "Please don't be in pain. I'll take the pain. Can I take it? Is there a Quirk for that?"
^ • ^
By the time they reached the delivery room, Shoto was a total wreck. He was kneeling by her bed, his face pale and his mismatched eyes shimmering with fat, hot tears. He was holding her hand so tightly she could feel his pulse racing.
"You're doing so good," he whispered, his voice cracking as (Y/N) let out another string of colorful curses directed at him and his entire family tree. "I'm right here."
"I hate you!" she groaned, her face flushed and sweaty. "You did this! No more! We are never doing this again! You hear me? One and done!"
Shoto didn't even argue. He was nodding frantically, his tears falling onto their joined hands. "Never again. I promise. I can't watch you go through this again. We'll just have him and that's it. I'll go get the procedure tomorrow. I'll do whatever you want, just please don't hurt anymore."
He leaned his forehead against her hand, his shoulders shaking. "I'm so sorry, (Y/N). I love you so much. Please be okay."
(Y/N), despite being in the middle of a world-ending contraction, felt her heart soften at the sight of her powerful, stoic husband reduced to a weeping pile of mush. She reached out with her free hand and tangled her fingers in his hair. "Shoto... honey... look at me."
He looked up, his face a mess of tears and freckled with frost from his stress.
"I don't actually hate you," she panted, managed a weak, shaky smile. "I'm just... really, really mad at your genetics right now."
^ • ^
Hours later, the storm finally passed. The screaming and cursing had been replaced by a silence so profound it felt holy.
Shoto sat on the edge of the hospital bed, his face finally dry but his eyes still red-rimmed. In his arms, wrapped in a soft white blanket, was a tiny, bundle of life with a tuft of white hair on one side and crimson on the other.
The baby opened one eye-a piercing, storm-gray-and let out a tiny, soft huff.
"He looks just like you," (Y/N) whispered, leaning against the pillows, exhausted but radiant.
Shoto was staring at the infant with a look of such pure, soul-shattering devotion that (Y/N) knew their lives had changed forever. He didn't look like a hero; he looked like a man who had just seen the face of God.
"He's perfect," Shoto breathed, his voice barely a whisper. He looked at (Y/N), his expression full of a new kind of resolve. "But I meant what I said. I'm never letting you go through that pain again. From now on, it's just us and him. Our little sanctuary."
(Y/N) smiled, reaching out to touch the baby's tiny hand. "We'll see about that, Jelly-Man. Give it a year. You might change your mind when you see him in those 'My Dad Can Freeze Your Dad' onesies."
Shoto let out a soft, huffed laugh, leaning down to press a kiss to (Y/N)'s forehead and then to the baby's. "Maybe. But for now... this is everything. We're finally, truly free."
The contract was long gone, the past was buried, and the future was currently yawning in Shoto's arms. The Todoroki legacy wasn't a burden anymore-it was a miracle.
^ • ^
Shoto looked down at the tiny boy, who had finally settled into a peaceful sleep against his chest. He looked at the tuft of bi-colored hair and the way the baby's small hand gripped his thumb with surprising strength.
"He needs a name that feels like a new beginning," Shoto whispered, his eyes never leaving the infant. "Something that doesn't carry the weight of the past."
(Y/N) reached out, brushing her knuckles against the baby's soft cheek. "I was thinking of something that represents the peace we finally found. Something light."
Shoto nodded, a look of quiet realization crossing his face. He leaned down, his nose brushing against the baby's forehead.
"Haruki," Shoto murmured.
(Y/N) smiled, the name tasting like spring and sunlight. "Haru... for light and hope. And 'ki' for the radiance he's brought us. Haruki Todoroki."
"It's perfect," Shoto agreed, his voice thick with a new kind of pride. He adjusted the blanket, tucking Haruki in closer to his heart. "Welcome home, Haruki. You're going to be so loved."
As the morning sun began to rise over Musutafu, the three of them sat in the quiet glow of the hospital room-a family born not from a contract, but from a love that had defied every expectation.
The End