Baby Todoroki

In the center of the room lay baby Shoto.He was nestled on a soft mat, dressed in a simple light blue and white striped onesie. At just a few months old, he was already a striking genetic puzzle. His hair was perfectly split down the middle—the right side as white as freshly fallen snow, the left a vibrant, fiery crimson. It was the visual manifestation of a calculated union, a flawless blend of frost and flame.Suddenly, the silence fractured.Shoto stirred, his tiny chest rising rapidly. His eyes squeezed shut, his face flushing a deep pink as his mouth opened in a sharp, fragile cry. His small hands curled into tight fists, waving helplessly in the air as he wept. It wasn't the cry of a future prodigy or a masterpiece of quirk engineering; it was just the sound of a regular baby wanting comfort, overwhelmed by the coldness of the large, quiet room. LISTEN TO THE VOICE AND ENEAVIDOR WILL TICKLE UR TOES (i cant spell properly im dyslectic and the paragraph was ai)