Shoto taps his right foot on the grey carpet of the waiting room, first in line and impatiently waiting to board the plane. The airport officer in front of him darts her gaze between the boarding passes in her hand and him. She does it for two more times before he finally sighs and asks, "Is there a problem?"
"Sir, you give me two boarding passes."
"Yes, and?"
"Why do you have two if you're traveling on your own?"
"I'm not travelling alone, my friend is right here— Ara?"
Upon registering that there's nothing but empty air next to him, Shoto immediately whips around. His grey-cyan eyes scan the waiting room in alarm, all color rapidly draining from his face. Without another word, he snatches back the boarding passes and breaks into a mad dash.
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Dread has crippled Arata into a nervous wreck. She wheezes and coughs repeatedly, forcing air into her lungs in large gulps, yet it never seems to be enough. It's as if there was a burning hole in her throat that immediately leaked out all the oxygen she had sucked in, leaving her hanging by a thread.
Nothing stays inside her anymore. Everything trickles out at an unsettling rate, be it calmness or oxygen. It escalates even higher when she finally realizes that a green, rigid exoskeleton starts to encase both her hands, transforming them into mantis raptorial limbs.
No, no, no! Why now, out of all times?
Arata desperately curls her shivering body and hides the changing arms behind her bent knees. She chokes out a sob as she senses that the transformation slowly extends from the tips of her fingers, working its way to her elbows.
Stop it! Stop your own quirk! Stop it, Arata!
She pushes and pulls at the flow of her quirk, trying to shut it out from her system. But she can't. Her body has cut itself off her brain by force. It only listens to the primal fear in her veins, and nothing more.
Arata's control is slipping through her claws like it's sand, and the whole world is collapsing on her all at once.
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"Huff... Huff... Huff..."
Normally, this shouldn't be so taxing. Years of training have pushed Shoto's stamina to an all-time high. Circling an airport terminal a few times shouldn't take this much out of him. Yet, beads of sweat trickle down from his forehead, as palpable as the coiling concern in his stomach.
Where did we get separated? How could I be so careless? Shoto snaps his head left and right, searching for any sign of her—black ponytail, green eyes, light yellow blouse—anything. But there's nothing.
Did I really lose her? What if someone from the Shirayuki abducted her? Or worse, what if it was Hanakiri?—
— Stop! Stop, calm down... The airport is fairly secure, and there hasn't been an uproar anywhere. Shoto tightens his jaw and takes a deep breath, trying to quell the bubbling agitation in his chest. I should try again, more thoroughly this time. I might've just missed her on the previous laps.
Please be safe, Ara.
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Arata thought she had reached the peak of fear. But she was dead wrong. There is no describing the horror that swallows her whole when a hand much smaller than hers taps on her right shoulder.
"Nee-san, why are you sitting here by yourself?" The young boy's voice is cheerful, without a care for caution.
Pressing her body against the wall even closer, Arata jerks away and shrinks her body even smaller. "Don't— Don't come here! Stay away!"
"Eh? But, you look so sad!"
"No!" Arata croaks out, hoping that she has concealed her mantis forelegs enough. "Please... go away."
Don't come near me! This form is hideous. You can get hurt, and— and... it must not happen!
A mature, feminine voice calls out just as the boy seems ready to insist. "Takeo-chan, it's rude to bother people. But my son is right. A teenager like you shouldn't be alone. Are you lost? Where's your mother? Do you need help finding the information center?"
"No, I'm— I'm fine..." Please just leave... Please... I'm scared...
A frown mars the woman's face as she notes Arata's shaky reply. "You're clearly not okay. Come on, let me take you to the security, at least."
Another wave of panic shoots through Arata when she hears her footfalls approaching. "Don't—"
"Please let me take it from here. I'm her friend."
After what feels like forever, Shoto finds Arata at last. It's no wonder he missed her during his frantic search. Arata is wedged beside a large potted plant in the corner, its leaves acting as a cover for her tiny stature. If these strangers didn't interfere, he wouldn't even think to look for her here.
Without waiting for a reply, Shoto bypasses the woman and her son and crouches in front of Arata. The moment she hears his voice, her head snaps up, revealing her sweaty, pasty face. Without missing a beat, she quickly moves closer to him, resting her forehead on his left shoulder.
"Get them away... Please..."
Shoto is a bit surprised at the sudden physical contact, but he doesn't pull away. "What?"
"My— My forelegs..." she whispers to his ear with a great effort, a round of tremor racking her body.
Oh, she's hiding them, Shoto realizes, catching a glimpse of green raptorial limbs in place of her arms. That's why Ara wanted the stranger and her son to leave.
"Are you okay?" the female stranger asks again, cuddling her son with one hand. "Do you need help?"
Shoto turns his head for a moment to give a dismissal nod. "Thanks for your concern, but we'll be fine on our own."
"Okay, if you're sure... We're off, then."
"They're gone," Shoto mutters back to Arata, her head still limp and heavy in the crook of his collarbone. It trembles ever so slightly with each of her erratic breath intake.
"I— I can't control it! I still can't... deactivate my quirk... I can't! And breathe—! I... can't breathe..."
She's having a panic attack, Shoto realizes with a jolt. The weight of the situation settles in, making him a little nervous.
Stay calm, he reprimands himself. I can do this. Aizawa-sensei has briefed me on what to do in case this happens.
"You can, once you're calmer. Give it time. For now, Ara, can you breathe with me?"
"I— I'll... try..."
"Good. Take a deep breath." he pauses for a few seconds before continuing. "Now, breathe out."
As she struggles to follow his words, he reassures her, "You'll be fine. We're going to do this a few more times."
The next few minutes, Arata's focus is only on his calm, soothing voice.
"Breathe in... Breathe out. Breathe in... Breathe out. Breathe in... Breathe out."
Eventually, the attack subsides. Shoto can see panic slowly drizzle out from her being, returning her to the normal state. Her transformation wears off afterwards, altering the mantis forelegs back to her human arms. Only sweat glistening on her skin is the evidence of her recent hysteria.
"Water?" Shoto offers her his water bottle. Arata gives him a faint nod and accepts it with trembling hands.
After taking a few sips, she squeaks in a small voice, "Thank you, Shoto-san."
"Any idea why it happened?" His grey-cyan eyes scan her expression with a probing look.
"The crowds, maybe. I'm not sure." Arata shrugs weakly, leaning on the wall behind her. "I didn't see you anywhere and— and somehow it just happened."
Shoto almost flinches at her admission. A sense of guilt pulls on his heartstrings. He doesn't want to admit it out loud, but he has accidentally overlooked the extent of her inexperience in most things.
For someone who spent half her life with a weird commune and the other half in captivity underground, Arata certainly knows a lot, thanks to her self-learning from books, television shows, and movies. Her knowledge level is more or less on par with other people, so sometimes, it slips from his mind that she only ever watches or reads how things work; she doesn't truly understand it.
She seems almost normal that he forgets that when it comes to experience, she has little-to-none in almost everything, including the simple little things.
Aizawa indeed has taken her to the supermarket, bus and train station, and several other places. But, what happened just now is her first time being in a public space by herself. The sheer number of people in the airport must be overwhelming for her. Coupled with her fear when she got separated from him, it must have been terrifying.
I had been so drowned in my own thoughts and boredom, Shoto's hands curl, nails digging into palms. I didn't even notice that Ara wasn't behind me anymore. It took me an airline worker asking why I had two boarding passes to realize that she had been missing.
What if the airline worker didn't ask me? What if, by the time I realized, it had been too late? What if I'd lost her in the crowd and never found her?
This time was just a fluke. It was a fluke that had led me to her location. Next time, I probably wouldn't be so lucky...
That being said, now everything has been solved. Relief pours into his being as he plops down in front of her. Thanks to whoever is up there, he didn't accidentally lose his teacher's adopted daughter before the plane even took off. Aizawa surely wouldn't approve of it.
Not to mention, this trip wouldn't be the same without her. To be honest, he has been sort of looking forward to having a good time together. Being with Arata feels easy and effortless; he can just be himself and the worst she will do is laugh with **him.
But, at the moment, he has to address a more important matter on their hand...
"You should've told me if you were uncomfortable," he chides her gently, letting a hint of remorse lurk in his voice.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was so insensitive, Ara.
Arata doesn't answer right away. She reaches up to gently caress his face, wiping away the beads of sweat that have gathered there. Her touch is tentative, her sleeve a soft caress against his skin. Astonishment slowly seeps into his expression as she gingerly dabs his forehead with it.
I didn't even realize I was sweating so much.
"You— You came back for me... Thank you, Shoto-san."
Shoto stares at her for a couple of seconds, acknowledging the immense gratitude in her bright green eyes before answering, "Of course I did."
Don't sound so surprised or relieved about it. Of course I came back. There was never any doubt.
"I'm sorry I panicked," Arata continues in a low, regretful mutter. "I know it's supposed to be a normal thing. Everyone just walks without a care. But... I can't. I can't be normal."
"That was your first time being in a public space alone," he states pensively. "It's understandable."
"Yeah, I've never seen so many people in one place before. It's... a bit intimidating," Arata admits, rubbing the back of her neck.
Shoto mulls the problem over for some time, then an idea pops in his mind. With one swift move, he takes off his maroon hoodie and pulls it over her head. A little, surprised squeak comes out from her mouth as the fabric obstructs her vision.
"Wear this," he says in his usual monotone voice.
Because of their glaring size difference, Shoto's hoodie completely drowns Arata out. It goes past her mid-thigh. He almost can't make out her fingers peek out from the sleeves. She looks like a girl playing dress-up, donning her father's clothes or perhaps those of an older brother.
Shoto steals a look at her again and ponders, somehow feeling an odd discomfort at what his own brain has just suggested. No, not siblings, he thinks, shaking his head, we don't look related at all. If anything, she's more like...
"Shoto-san?" Arata tilts her head, his hoodie drooping over her crown and framing her sight with a maroon wreath. "Um, what is this for?"
His trance broken, he clears his throat, then slips back into the impassive tone he usually uses. "Can you still see with the hood up?"
Arata pats the fabric over her head to adjust its position, then nods to him. "Yeah."
"Do you feel better now?" Shoto's eyes delve right into hers, searching for any sign of discomfort. "There should be less people in your vision."
"Oh, you're right." she nods an affirmative, a small smile gracing her face. "This is a great solution. I hope it won't be long until I adapt to these things."
"You will eventually be normal. Let's just take one step at a time." His words soak her in a calming effect, putting her worries to rest. "Come on, we need to board the plane fast."
Arata hesitates, a bit concerned. "What if... we got, um, separated again..."
Well, obviously, she's not the only one who doesn't want to have a repeat of the earlier incident. Shoto pauses a few seconds, probably weighing his options. "To avoid getting lost, you can... hold my hand or my clothes."
Then, off they go to the next checkpoint. Arata finds walking beside Shoto comforting. Not only does he keep a safe distance with other people, but he also strides with an air of certainty. She can't pinpoint what it exactly is, but he seems sure on where they are going, and that little fact comforts her.
She tugs on the seam of his white T-shirt, not wanting to get left behind. Not that she actually needs to do that. He makes sure to match his walking pace with hers and really pays attention to his surroundings this time around.