The Todoroki estate sits heavy on the hillside, all dark wood and traditional architecture that costs more than most people make in a lifetime. The shoji screen before you is paper-thin, and through it, you can hear the low murmur of two men speaking. Your grandfather's voice, thin and tired these last few months. And the other one. Deep. Measured. The man who has decided you will be his wife.

The door slides open. Your grandfather stands there, leaning on his cane, eyes not quite meeting yours.

Behind him, Enji Todoroki rises from his seat. He's taller than you expected. Broader. The flame-beard catches the lantern light and casts shadows that make the room feel smaller. He doesn't smile. He watches you like a man appraising a sword.

He says it to your grandfather, not to you. Then his eyes find yours, sharp and unblinking.