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December was around the corner in Musutafu, the weather was getting colder by the day and the forecast talked about how the first snowfall of the year should happen soon.
It was a rather chilly late afternoon when Shoto was returning from a gym session training, heading back to the dorms. He was walking through the grounds when the corner of his eye spotted a movement, a quick flash in the distance. As he got closer and focused his view he spotted you. Sitting on a low branch of a tree, ankles crossed and swinging, wings unfolded as your eyes were fixed to the sky.
You always kept your wings tucked while indoors so Shoto could only see them at their full width while training on the P.E. grounds.
He had been quite impressed by them right from the start: long broad and rounded, slightly sharper at the tips. Their underside was a saffron colour while your upperwings were mottled with brown, black and gray spots. They were strong and efficient, capable of quick tight turns and agile movements when presented with obstacles, but also somewhat gentle when they swayed in the wind.
One time you stopped a blow that was coming at him while he was prone. Your back invaded his field of vision in seconds, wings spread out at their max to cover him.
In training you wore a long sleeved tee shirt uniform with a zipper back along your spine, the zip being only on the nape and lower back to allow smoother movements; contrary to your usual collar opened back shirts or buttoned tops.
Standing like that he could see how your back muscles tensed, the muscles in your wings twitching as the feather shafts stretched. There was a trail of feather-like hair, paler in colour, extending up to the back of your neck that thinned out and mixed with your baby hair.
It all happened in a flash, but for Shoto it was a slow motion moment that engrained the image in his mind, sometimes resurfacing when he saw your tucked wings twitch while you were sitting somewhere in the common room.
Shoto followed your gaze to notice the sky growing a pale shade of pink, clouds covering most of it as snowflakes begun to lazily fall down.
A tiny squeak startled him. As he looked up back at you, he saw the biggest brightest smile light up your face and it took one blink for you to vanish from the branch. With a powerful stroke, you were now way up, wings slicing through the frigid air, each beat purposeful yet fluid stirring the silence with their rustle. Snowflakes were falling in a slow, hypnotic descent – only then you saw him.
Slowly coming to a stop in mid-air, looking back at him and waving, you then descended in small circles. The flakes caught in your plumage, dotting your wings with small pearls that glistened briefly before vanishing into the feathers.
“Sorry, didn’t see you there”, you nervously apologized. “It’s just the snow, it makes me ridiculously happy. Did since I was little. Had a feeling today would flurry”.
Shoto doesn’t recall ever seeing you this cheerful. “Isn’t it colder up there?”, he asked feeling the chill in the air and thinking about your almost bare back, hole cut through the orange sweater.
“Yes, but my feathers are quite equipped in keeping me warm. Plus, all this adrenaline basically melts the snow right off me”, you giggled. “Besides”, you flapped your way back up, “it really just feels... free. Up here. A safe space”.
There was a brief moment of silence except for the pitter-pattering of snow starting to stack on the ground. Then a loud crack of ice. You froze in your upstroke, turning to find your classmate standing on a long stalagmite-like platform.
You tilted your head, looking at him.
“I wanted to join in, it did seem fun”, he simply stated.
You huffed through your nose and circled back to him, hovering over.
“Want to try the real thing?”, you asked with a little smirk.
Shoto opened his mouth to reply but before he could muster a syllable, you quickly dived to him, going around and grabbing him from under his armpits whispering “Hold on tight”. It all happened so fast it took the breath out of him; one moment he was standing on the ice, the next he was heading towards the dorms not by the usual lane of buildings but swaying while soaring higher and higher.
A bright laugh erupted from your chest, peering down at him. “Doing ok over there?”.
Shoto could only nod, his brain still not catching up with the situation, the cold air biting all over his face. He took a look around: the world below blanketed in stillness, the windows of the U.A High building reflecting your bodies in that fragile middle space where earth gave way to sky.
He glanced at you, upper body hovering over him. “You’re really fast”, he stated, tone louder to cut through the air. You gave him a small smile.
“Am I not heavy?”. He could feel each thrust upward, the flutter of feathers all around, and he wasn’t exactly lightweight all geared up carrying bags.
“Nope, just like holding a couple of grapes”, you replied, tongue jokingly stinking out in the smile.
You did carry him effortlessly, keeping him steady through the drafts. Your grip on him was firm but also gentle. He could feel the shift in your muscles against the air, trying to overwhelm him as little as possible while keeping him still.
“Todoroki, throw a small ball of fire a couple feet in front of us”.
“In front of us?”, he asked, puzzled. “If you’re that cold we can just land”.
You laughed. “I don’t want to toast us, silly. Trust me!”. A shiver from a quick thrust shook him.
Shoto followed the instructions, lighting up a small area ahead of you both. You flapped quickly and shifted above the explosion, using the warm updrafts to spiral upward. A weird sound came out of Shoto in the unexpected roller coaster-like motion, between a gasp and a chuckle. You laughed again, so hard your eyes shut. Shoto quickly used the opportunity to subtly reach for your left wing, a frosted feather softly brushing his fingertips.
What felt like hours of flying probably only took a few minutes, as Shoto’s feet were back on solid ground on the floor of his balcony. You were perched on the banister, wings fanned out from your back like a cape, little puffs of hot air releasing from your grinning mouth as you caught breath.
“So, how d’you like it?”.
Shoto run a hand through his hair fixing the flight-messed locks, and took a moment to ponder before replying: “Definitely the quickest route for getting back. It must be convenient to have it at your disposal”.
Your mouth formed a small puckered “o” before giving in a light laugh.
“Also, it was freeing, you were right”. He paused for a moment, measuring the words, then: “The view was beautiful, too”.
Still laughing, your eyes met his. “Glad to be of service. I might start charging from next time though”, you leaned back, still perched, the snow catching in your hair, on your eyelashes, on the tip of your nose. “Well, I saw you off, so I better get back too now”.
“Why don’t you come inside?”, Shoto proposed before you could dive down. A wondering look on your face, he continued: “We were just out freezing and you did bring me to my room, let me at least offer you a warm towel and a cup of tea. I have a blend you might like. If you want, of course”.
You slowly lifted one of eyebrow, then smiled. “I’d love to”, and jumped down the balcony with a small thud. “One second though, can’t be dripping around your room”. Lifting your wings up, a parallel line over your head, you spread them and rapidly started shaking them.
Shoto knew he was staring hard, he could feel his eyes begging for him to blink at least once but he was just too captivated by you. By how much you resembled those tiny birds in stone basins amidst water, taking a bath and making the cutest mess. The way your feathers moved in small sections, brushing first against each other and then patting down your back, droplets falling all around.
Out in the cold, he could feel the tip of his ears start to burn.
Once you were done, you moved inside. He lent you some towels to dry off, then gave you a blanket and started the kettle, preparing the mugs and blend. Every so often he would glance back at you behind his shoulder. It was the first time you had been in his room and he was starting to get nervous.
You were mostly silent but Shoto was glad you were someone who also could find comfort in silence without trying to fill it with small talk.
You always showed him this side: always sparing a bottle of water after training putting it quietly beside him, pointing sections of pages in the rare times he would get distracted in class and lose track of lines. The way you stood in front of him the day his father came to school looking for him. You pretended to stretch, yawning and spreading your wings wide, blocking him entirely from Endeavor's line of sight. The only time you fully opened your wigs inside the school.
A high pitch from the electric kettle woke him from his thoughts. He carefully prepared the tea, put the mugs on a small table and sat beside you. When you gestured to the blanket, he shook his head no.
You tilted your head, a move that always managed to disarm him. Your big eyes blinking at him, strands of hair slipping to your cheek, the head down one side like a puppy… or a cute owl.
He felt his breath catching in his throat, his hands only just trembling around his mug. Then a gentle weight fell on his shoulders, sliding off his side. He looked as one of your wings was resting on his back.
“You’re shaking”, you simply said. “I don’t want you to catch a cold. Especially after I made you flitting through a snowfall right after a gym session. I’d feel guilty”. You smiled, looking back at your mug and sipped the tea. You started complimenting the blend he chose but Shoto didn’t hear a word. His hearing was muffled, like the snow that was beginning to fall heavily outside had crept into his head and was slowly piling on his thoughts.
All he could feel was the heat radiating from the feathers covering his right side, how they gently tucked him a bit closer and then curled imperceptibly around him, almost like a hug. Or half a hug.
There was such a difference in his left side, close to you but not enough to share warmth, leaving him slightly chilled and mildly frustrated. He was taken aback by the sensations in his body, not used to this switch of temperatures in his sides.
One thought was drilling his mind: close the gap between you two and make the tingle in his left arm stop.
He must have been lost in thought for a while; your hand waved in front of him.
“Earth to Shoto, are you there?”, worried eyes fixed on him.
“Yeah, sorry. I just spaced out for a second”.
A small soft smile. “You must be tired. Sorry for imposing on you, I’ll let you rest”. You put one leg up, hand on your knee propping to stand.
As the wing slowly started to slid off his side, Shoto panicked and grabbed you by the sweater sleeve.
“No, please. Wait. Could you stay a while longer? I wasn’t spacing out of tiredness or boredom, really. You were just... warm”, a shaky breath, swallowing saliva and the thought of taking it back. Not letting it escape afraid you might disappear if he said it out loud. “It felt safe”. The word came in a whisper, the tone almost a question.
Your eyes widened. Looking down, your left wing rose to cover your face. A quiet sigh. Then two big owly eyes peeped out looking gently at him, head slightly tilted in a way that made Shoto’s mouth dry. You put your leg down, scooted back adjusting for a bit more space to move and opened your legs. You patted twice the spot between them “Come over here, back facing me”.
Shoto’s ears were on fire again, but he complied. The moment his back laid on your chest he felt a quick flutter and was entirely enveloped by gentle feathers. A couple tickled his neck, his nostrils filled with their cinnamon sugar-ish odor mixed with your argain oil lotion.
Your kept you hands behind your back, balancing to keep straight while cradling Shoto’s body.
You could feel him tense in the beginning, surely not used to this or any kind of contact at all, then slowly starting to relax as you gently ruffled your feathers around him, humming softly just to get him comfortable in this shared space.
Shoto felt so incredibly warm, surrounded by pillowy fluffness and sensing himself drifting off. It seemed improper to a part of him, the way he was this close to you, but there was just something about the feeling of the feathers around him. Protecting him. From the cold air, from the harms of the world, from his own mind.
He really didn’t know a whole lot about safety; didn’t feel safe in his home growing up, not in the dorm when late at night -sometimes- nightmares came and made his heart ache, his breath quicken. But nestled there, feeling the smile in your voice and the softness of your being... safe is the only word that fits.
He gently collapsed on you. You felt the steady heartbeat of slumber in the regular small pulses on the feathers near his neck, the slow rise of his chest beneath them.
It made you smile wide, the way he trusted you. It’s been a while since you've noticed the way he stared at your wings, catching him more than once peeking when he thought you were distracted. You started to purposefully brush against him every so often, just a quick graze, but you noticed his eyes lingered first on the tapped spot then followed you back.
Slowly you lowered your head, lips hovering over the bicoloured hair just barely brushing them with your nose, afraid to wake him. They were soft and smelled so good, like you thought they would.
Maybe being on the ground wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe it wasn’t keeping the wings tucked as much as wrapping them around someone that mattered. Another safe space between lazy rising steam and slow gentle breaths.
You felt your cheeks ablaze almost like you were still skimming through the cold air.
Your sky.
His wings.