Arata unconsciously breathes a sigh of relief after they both enter the plane and it takes off. The airport and the buildings that seemed so large, now are getting smaller and smaller through the cabin window. Whatever happens, at least it won't be possible for her to get left behind again in this enclosed space.
She glances at her right side, her gaze passing Shoto's sitting figure before it flicks around the aisle. Initially, she only wants to observe the interior of this amazing aircraft that is flying them to I-Island. However, her eyes keep being drawn to a small family sitting on the seats across.
The father is holding out a colorful laminated paper, animatedly explaining safety procedures to his daughter next to him. The daughter lets out childish babbles and giggles, occasionally pointing to some pictures on it and pulling her father's tie. Considering her age, Arata doubts the daughter truly grasps what he is talking about, but it doesn't hinder the father to continue showering her with his attention.
The rest of their family are sitting a seat behind, with the teenage brother talking over various rides they will be trying during I-Expo and the mother smiling at her excited son. He feigns an annoyed frown when she helps him buckle his seat belt, which is replied with an eyeroll by his mother. Arata thinks those are acts of endearment disguised as inconsequential physical cues.
They are a small ordinary family, and the scenes playing out before Arata aren't particularly eventful by any means. But, the affection transpired between them is real and thick, and Arata finds her own chest aching at the view.
Aching because what she yearns for is right in front of her, but she knows it's not laid there for her. Aching because she wasn't born into a loving family. Aching because the ones who ought to be her family, are the ones who left her behind.
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"Okaa-san, you'll be back, won't you?"
Arata's murmured in the dimly lit basement, her small hands cleansing the blisters that have formed around her right ankle, a result of the strain from the heavy metallic ball chained to her leg. No one answered her calls except for the cartoon characters in television. A cheerful laughter erupts from of a cartoon couple as they spun their newfound teenage daughter.
One look at them, and Arata couldn't take it anymore. The basement was her cage. Her mother had not come back for her. She was alone here. What was there to celebrate?
"Why did you leave m— me? You said one day Otou-san would wake up from his sleep, like Snow White… and the three of us would be together! B— But now you're also gone…"
Her sobs filled the air, the laughter and song from the television a cruel mockery of her own reality. Arata's tears flowed freely, her small frame shaking with the force of her emotions.
"Okaa-san, I miss you… I'm so lonely here…"
Suddenly, the metallic door to her basement banged loudly, the sound reverberating through the confined space. Arata jumped, her body reflexively crumpling to her knees as the cuffs pricked her ankle, drawing red lines on her pale skin.
"Shut up, you good-for-nothing!" A voice shrieked without a care, its tone harsh and unrecognizable. A voice that used to sing her praises and braid her hair, back when they thought her quirk would be snow-related. "Who wants to hear your pathetic cries?"
Arata could only muffle her mouth, stifling her sobs, as she sank deeper to her quivering knees, her body curling in on itself under the weight of her loneliness.
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Arata knows that she shouldn't compare, that she should be grateful of how her life has turned out now. But, she can't stop looking at that loving family, can't stop wishing for a little bit of that affection—
"Don't watch if it hurts."
"Shoto-san?" Arata murmurs under her breath. "You noticed?"
And then, in that moment, grey and cyan fill her vision, drawing her gaze away from the family. There is a rare, wistful glint in those eyes, and Shoto allowing his vulnerability to be visible surprises her more than the fact that he has just read her mind.
I was like you... No, I am like you.
"You're not the only one who ever dreamt of a happy family," he mutters back. Originally, he wants to leave it at that. But, when he sees that Arata is listening to him intently, he continues in a low voice.
"My old man has sacrificed a lot of things just to catch up to All Might... It put a heavy burden on my mother, which became worse after I got this burn. Then, when my oldest brother died in a training accident, she couldn't take it anymore, hence her stay in the hospital."
"I'm sorry to hear about your brother."
"Don't be. You have nothing to do with this, Ara," he sighs, running his fingers through his hair. "To tell you the truth... I also don't know how to feel about the accident. I didn't have a close relationship with him, or any of my siblings. Training sessions used to take up the majority of my time. It's better now, at least my older sister and second-oldest brother are on speaking terms with me."
"I see." Arata's eyes soften as she listens, taking in the weight of his words. "Isn't that... a good thing?"
"Yes," Shoto acknowledges, his gaze distant. "But that's all. My family has never done any activities together. Going on a trip like this is out of the question."
It must have been painful, Arata ponders in her mind, perceiving a hint of melancholy in his voice, to have something so close, yet so far. The picture of a family has always been far for me, impossible to grasp and with no hope but to let go.
But, not for Shoto-san. That picture of a family is so close, barely hanging just at the tip of his fingers. One touch, he might reach it... or it could slip away, drifting further into the sky.
Had circumstances been different, Shoto-san's family could have been a loving one. He could have lived in harmony... with a complete family.
Arata's heart aches for him, for the family he could have had. She wants to comfort him, but she doesn't know how. Words are failing her, they slither away from her tongue at the time she needs them the most. Not that she knows what to say, because what words will actually amount to in matters like this?
So, she settles on wrapping her sleeve-clad fingers around his left hand. Shoto raises an eyebrow at her clumsy and uncertain gesture. "Why are you holding my hand?"
She knows that he is just being his usual blunt self, but it doesn't cease a blush from rising on her face. "I— I just want to make you feel better! Isn't this... what people usually do? I mean, for comfort..."
Shoto doesn't answer. After several seconds of utter silence and awkwardness, Arata almost decides to retract her hand. She doesn't get the chance to go through with it though, because the next moment, he squeezes back, his grip firm yet gentle.
"Thanks," he breathes out, to which she replies with a bashful nod. "It seems to be working."
"I'm sorry you didn't get to have fun with your family," Arata murmurs, trying not to get too focused on his clasp on her right hand. "I'll try to make this trip worth your while."
"Why is it only for me? You also never did. I'm not the only one who missed out on fun during childhood."
"Mm-hm. Your point?"
Shoto sends Arata an amused look. He isn't one to put entertainment on his priority, but perhaps having a little fun won't hurt anybody. Besides, he is informed that there will be some attractions that can hone his abilities in I-Expo.
"Then, it means that both of us have to make the most of it."
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At first, Shoto and Arata planned to spend the first couple of hours on the plane by watching a movie together. However, they must have been more drained than expected, because the next time Arata blinks, the rose gold light of dawn is peeping from the cabin window and the monitor has already turned back to a black screen.
So bright, we must have forgotten to pull the curtain down... She yawns and stretches out a hand to shut the window blinds, returning total darkness back into the cabin. I hope the light didn't disturb Shoto-san and other passengers.
Glancing at the other side, she notices that he is still sleeping with his arms folded, as if to preserve warmth. It crosses her mind that he probably feels a little cold among the gusts of air conditioner.
Arata grabs one of the blankets provided by the airline inside the seat pockets, then quietly spreads it out. She is craning sideways to drape the blanket over his torso, when his hand shoots up and grips her right wrist.
Off-balance and yanked forcefully, she tumbles out of her seat. Her knees knock with his before they plop onto the ground. A surprised yelp almost escapes her lips, but she contains it successfully, even though the blanket slips her fingers and falls to the carpet below.
Shoto's eyelids fly open immediately. His gaze is sharp and alert. It softens once he recognizes the silhouette as Arata, but he doesn't make a move. "What are you doing?"
"I— Oof!"
All of a sudden, the seat in front of Shoto reclines, pushing her back with a light thud. Talk about unexpected, she groans inaudibly as her head bumps with Shoto's chest as a result.
"You all right?" Shoto whispers, his free hand clutching the offending seat, halting it from reclining further. He nearly taps the front passenger's shoulder to let him know that he is being very inconsiderate to take up so much space and demand an apology, when the man speaks up.
"Sorry, lad," he says in a pained, hushed voice, his wrinkled face staring right ahead, not turning to meet Shoto's gaze. "Did I accidentally hit you or your friend? I need to straighten my back because it's hurting again. Pathetic what a long flight can do to an old man like me."
Before Shoto can answer with a frank "yes", Arata beats him to it. "It's fine," she insists, her jaw motion tickling him. "I— We hope you can get well soon."
"Thanks. Sorry for the inconvenience I'm causing."
After a while, both Arata and Shoto don't know what to say to each other. Her face is buried in his chest and she can't do much as she is in a kneeling position. The only thing that prevents her body from being totally pressed to his is the support that her elbows provide.
But, that doesn't mean he isn't aware of their current proximity. With her slender forearms caging his thighs and her waist clamped between his knees, even the tiniest movement results in not-so-innocent brushes.
An unintentional nudge from her and his muscles go completely rigid. Shoto doesn't dare to do anything other than keeping his body as still as a statue. Probably that's not the best move he can take, because it seems Arata is also at a loss for what to do next.
And as time goes on, it is increasingly getting cramped and awkward. Shoto breaks the silence by clearing his throat. "So, how are you going to get out of here, Ara?"
"Oh! Can you... push back that seat for a while? I'm, um, trapped between... I— I want to get back to my seat."
"Do you, really?"
What is he implying? Arata squirms uncomfortably as her heart skips a beat. Is he saying that I would like to stay like this? But, why would I want to keep staying on his chest? Wait, do I actually want it?
... What the hell am I thinking?
"Um, no— yes...?" she wriggles out from their awkward position, one hand snatching the slumped blanket on the floor and the other covering her flushed cheeks. "We... should get back to our rest, we're still a couple hours away from I-Island."
"I thought you were going to the lavatory."
Oh. That's what he meant. I feel really stupid right now. "... No, it's not that..."
"What were you doing, then?" Releasing his hold on the front seat, Shoto crosses his arms in front of his chest again. When Arata turns her head away and mumbles something unclear, he creases his forehead. "What? I couldn't catch it."
"I was— I'm just worried if you feel cold." she bites her lips, fiddling with the blanket on her lap. "Well, I'm wearing your hoodie and you didn't have anything on you except for your T-shirt... So I was trying to put a blanket over your shoulders."
"I don't get cold easily," he informs her. "Besides, I think you need it more. Your face's color is catching up to the hoodie."
"... It's not because of the temperature..."
"It's not? Then, why?"
"Nevermind..." Unable to say anything on the matter, Arata tries to bypass the awkward subject and conceal her embarrassment by giving him another question in return. "So, do you want the blanket or not, Shoto-san?"
His expression is imperceptible under the curtain of darkness, but she can sense his gaze on her face linger for a split second before he responds, "Okay, additional warmth probably will make sleep more pleasant."
Instead of taking the blanket from her hand, Shoto closes his eyes and continues dozing off, picking up where he left off without any issue. Oh well, fine, Arata shakes her head and bundles him in the blanket, a small smile tugging on her lips.
Afterwards, she searches for a comfortable snoozing position for herself and sighs contentedly, "Sleep tight, Shoto-san. We're going to need all of our energy for later, anyway."