' an angel rising '

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The breeze ruffles her hair but Akihisa Yuko's gaze remains steady and unnerving as she watches the windchime chime. She directs another concentrated puff of air on it and the ringing turns louder.

With a quick snap of her finger, the air stills and she wills it to recollect on her palm until she's create an air arrow the size of a small dagger. Strangely, it fits perfectly on her palms.

She raises it, uses the other hand to gather force and thwap! it zooms past the empty space and hits the second circle. Almost there, she reminded herself and wiped a streak of shiny sweat from her shoulders.

Yuko wills the air again, and just like what she's been doing for the past week, creates an air arrow just the size of her palm. Like a kunai but longer and made of air (obviously).

Only three days remain before the festival and Yuko has learned as to what to do to her air arrows so they can be more efficient. Unfortunately, that didn't make it easier to create them and perfect their aim.

She has expanded her thoughts just like Katsuki told her and since her limit is four breezes, five if she's at her best, she decides to make four small air arrows using one breeze so she can use sixteen or twenty. Her stamina is coping (after doing twelve rounds during mornings and afternoons around school it must cope), but she's still bad at aiming and as it stood, the highest number of air arrow she could create was seven.

Create not aim. There were particular happenstances when the arrows would hit a post or another object entirely. So far she hadn't manage to hit other people.

( Probably because there were no other people- Katsuki had terrified all of them and Yuko was the only one [stupid] brave enough to stay and use the gymnasium with him. )

A chorus of explosions resonated throughout the gymnasium and it would have deafen ears but Yuko was too concentrated (rarest of the rare event here folks!) to even bother. Despite the ludicrous thoughts and the stupid commentary, there were things she couldn't deny.

Seven wasn't enough. And the remaining three days before the Sports Festival was definitely not enough to perfect the attack.

A breath escapes her lips and she wills another chunk of air and uses it to ruffle the windchime and in a span of twenty seconds, creates another air arrow.

She watches the innermost circle, takes a deep breath and steadies her trembling fingers. The sixth air arrow is trembling and she tries hard to steady it.

Another pant escapes her lips and she closes her eyes, still tugging at the air arrow and to gather momentum, her right foot takes a step back.

"Go!" Yuko screams and the air arrow soars past the air and hits the second circle again.

Yuko adjusts quickly, creating another one, the seventh arrow, but unlike the others, it's wobbly and it's unable to sharpen the edges. She raises her palms and it follows, steadying, pulsating and with a quick movement tosses it into the direction of the target, hitting the fourth circle much to her disappointment. It'll be okay, she chanted.

She'll be at the eight arrow if she can still do it. She can. She takes another deep breath, wills the air to coalesce and although it doesn't at first, the second attempt poured with emotion and power makes it move to create an air arrow. It is even more deformed than the seventh arrow, but Yuko doesn't lose hope. She adjusts the angle, then releases the arrow so it lands on the first circle.

Yuko doesn't event cheer, she immediately heads to the bleachers and breathes deeply, tries hard to steady her heartbeats and rests. She can't breathe again and she tries hard to inhale and exhale.

It's going to be sunset after a couple of hours and she has to head to the noodle house at eight. Yuko rests for another hour, takes two jogs around the school and walks towards her workplace, a smile on her face.

They had another activity just yesterday, something more like a quirk assessment and she's proud to say that instead of landing at the bottom, she ended up in the fifteenth spot!

She's humming something out of tune under her breath and when she looks up, the sky has turned to red orange with tinges of mauve, grey and sky blue. The clouds have started turning grey too so by the time she reaches the noodle house, it's already nighttime.

The routine has been set, she spends the whole shift washing dishes and waiting (it turns out that the employee she's been substituting for last week has been impregnated so Yuko has to work as a waitress for another six months), Katsuki comes at about ten and orders a ramen, Shouto arrives when the shop is almost closing and he's usually the last person to turn up, always ordering the same serving of zaru soba.

After a couple of days, Yuko has been patient with Todoroki, even joining him at lunch (she's set up alternating days, Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays with Uraraka and Co. and the remaining weekdays to Todoroki) sometimes or talking to him at mornings.

Katsuki wasn't around today, he's been less frequent since two days ago, as the festival drew near and when Todoroki comes, the bicoloured haired boy is always covered in sweat or looks really exhausted.

Speak of the angel. He looks solemn as ever and one of Yuko's coworkers, Lucia Tan takes his order. "Your classmate really loves his zaru soba," the woman says to Yuko as she carries a common black tray to another table.

"He's fond of it," was Yuko's only reply followed by a smile and the night ends as usual. Dazzling stars and the milky white glow of the moon.

Todoroki offers to walk her home again and for the fifth time this week, she agrees. Yuko thinks it's funny, how much his quirk resembles his personality.

Hot and cold.

Sometimes hot, with a gaze that could scorch endless winter wastelands, with a passion hidden beneath dual colored eyes- of magenta and silver, with warmth- a smile oozing of kindness like the hearth of Hestia where people would creep closer for safety. But there was the fire that burned too and it burdened him deeply to carry it.

Cold, like blunt words chucked like icicles meant to tear hearts to fragments, eyes apathetic and cold and made frostbite grow on crevices where flowers should too, casual demeanors hinting nothing but perpetual loneliness and the desire to feel like anything but an ice block. Cold, breakable and destroyed at the slightest feel of warmth.

"Shouto... can I ask you a question?" she asks as they pass park benches and bushes filled with brambles.

"What is it?" he asked. "It's rare for you to be so reserved."

"Now you're just being mean," she deadpanned, and clasped her hands together behind her back as she walked. "The Sports Festival, do you think it's worth it?"

He stops in his tracks and she does too, fiddling with her thumbs behind her back and looked at her. "It's a matter of perspective," he answered. "Being able to test your strength and project an image that will allow people to look up to you, catching the eye of professionals to gain the opportunity of getting in field experience, I think it's crucial for people who want to be heroes."

Yuko doesn't say anything, just purses her lips, smiles and looks up at the stars scattered haphazardly on the evening sky before resuming her walk.

"How's training, by the way?" Shouto asks.

She replies, "I managed to improve a little bit today. Not enough for the Sports Festival though so I think I'll double my workload tomorrow and take a break from work two days before."

He remains quiet but under the silent stars, she seems something in his eyes. "Shouto, do you want to say something?" Yuko is gentle as she says it.

"Nothing," he says as they near her apartment. "It's just that- never mind."

A huff of exasperation occupies the silence that enacts right after and Yuko blows a lock of her hair from her face with a little grunt. "That's just being mean, now. Tell me, dude."

"It's just that you've looked even more determined for the past days," he said.

"Have I?"

"Yes," he says and adds in a soft voice, his blunt voice. "And you look even more beautiful when you show it."

━×━

The next days are spent in endless stamina exercises, she's still up to eight arrows this time and she discovered that she can still create two breezes even after eight air arrows. Uraraka is nice enough to spar with her and even when Yuko gets more losses than wins over six battles, she's still grateful. She offers the possible challenges that the school might use to her classmates, remembering her first time and the class is grateful.

It turns out Izuku is aware of it but he's grateful for some extra information and when the afternoon comes, she practices using the gusts of air, heading immediately to Recovery Girl for a check up and after the old woman applauds her and tell her that it's still okay for her to train, she does a dozen more jogs around the campus to improve her stamina.

Shouto walks her again that night and they stay under the bridge for a while after the success of her plead to do something cool since you want to go home late anyway and the night is filled with banter and Yuko trying to make the stone in her hands skip for at least two times, but ultimately failing.

"I've never seen someone fail that much in rock skipping," Shouto comments briskly and Yuko chucks a stone at his direction. Much to the girl's combined aggravation and relief, he simply catches with one hand.

"Oh whatever," Yuko says, rolling her eyes, displeasure from all the current happenings washing over her features. "I've never seen someone have a bigger stick up their ass and you don't see me complaining."

"I'm not above tossing you into the water, Yuko," he says in response.

Yuko gulped.

"Besides," he says and readies himself. "It isn't that difficult if you think about it."

And the rock skips all the way across the river.

"I hate talented people," Yuko mutters under her breath.

"You love me though," he deadpans.

And yes, yes she did. This boy who she cared so much for and poured her heart into, so much until she's almost ran out of it for herself, but it's worth it, because he deserves it and he will be the pillar she has always wanted. Love and care and love and care and love and care.

And if only it was the same for him.

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E N D O F C H A P T E R
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