Work Text:
Every Friday evening, Momo hears a lovely tune coming from the forest.
She's not supposed to be out and about on her own. She's the crown princess of the Northern forest fairies, and she should be at the castle, held up in her room or doing her duties. But ever since she heard that mysterious voice, she's been unable to keep herself away.
She's never actually seen who or where the voice comes from. Usually, there's a group of creatures singing together, playing their instruments and laughing. But one voice always stands out to Momo. A little higher-pitched than the others, but smooth like velvet and enchanting to merely listen to.
So every Friday evening, Momo spreads her wings and flies over to the same spot, to a clearing near the waterfalls, and sits on a tree branch, just listening.
She's not sure why she doesn't just show herself. Most of the creatures in the forest will bow to her the moment they see the crown on her head, made of golden, sparkly leaves. If she were to ask to watch their performance, she's sure they'd let her.
(Maybe that's the reason she doesn't dare approach them, though. She doesn't want them to sing and play out of obligation. She wants to see them in their most authentic sense.)
Today, Momo is already perched onto a tree branch, waiting for them to begin. They're a little later than usual, actually. The sun has already begun to set and Momo still hasn't heard their familiar, cheery tune.
Just as she's about to give up and head home, a large explosion narrowly misses her face and nearly burns off her hair. She gasps in surprise, wings kicking into action as she flies away, scanning the ground for the source. Before she finds it, she hears a loud, grating voice.
"I found her!"
Momo freezes, her blood turning to ice. She sees a group of creatures hop out of the bush nearby, joining the one in the centre, who is gesturing at her with a long stick. They all have pointed ears and varying eye colours, and the one holding the stick has a sharp grin on his face. They must be elves.
"I told you not to head off without us, Bakugou!" the one with short purple hair snaps, and Momo's eyes widen. She knows that voice. "Idiot, you could've knocked that tree down!"
"Who cares? I found the intruder." Bakugou points aggressively at Momo, who is still hovering in the sky, unsure of whether to come down or fly away. Both seem like dangerous options.
"It seems like she was just passing by," the one with skin as dark as the night and a pointed nose says. "I do not think it's her."
The last one has bright yellow hair and what seems like electricity sparking under his fingertips. "Yeah, she looks really confused. Sorry about that!" The last part is directed to Momo, along with an attempt at a friendly wave.
The one with yellow hair grabs Bakugou by the bicep, tugging him along. As the group turns away, Momo feels a rush of impulsivity run through her and she flies down, her lips parting before she can think. "Wait!"
They all pause and turn back in sync. Momo makes eye contact with the one with purple hair and notices two red, droplet-shaped tattoos on her cheeks. "Are you the one who sings around here?"
The elf's eyes widen. "Wh-What do you mean?"
Momo swallows down her nerves, bowing her head. "Every Friday, I hear you all playing music here. I admit I've been listening, but only because I find myself enchanted by your tunes. You, specifically, you're the one who sings, right? Your voice is lovely."
When she looks back up, the elf's cheeks have reddened. Her mouth hangs open in shock.
The yellow one nudges her with a laugh. "See? Other creatures agree, too! Your voice is good!"
"I told you she's the intruder," Bakugrou grumbles, still held down by the yellow one like he was on a leash.
"Shut up," the purple one bites out. "Um… Thank you. I didn't realise we had an audience. Would you like to join us?"
"Really?" the other three elves chorus, turning to her with varying looks of shock on their faces. Momo can echo that sentiment.
"You'll have me?" she asks, excitement bleeding into her voice. Before she can get a reply, Bakugou speaks up again, his voice bordering on hostility.
"There's no way we're letting her watch us," he mutters.
"What! Why not? She seems nice," the yellow one says. He turns to Momo, holding out a hand. "I'm Kaminari. That's Jirou, and this is Tokoyami, and the rude angry one is Bakugou."
Momo tries to muster up a smile. She reaches for Kaminari's outstretched hand, about to take it into hers, when Bakugou interrupts, "No way! We're not letting royalty watch us perform for their own selfish entertainment!"
Momo's arm stills. Silence hangs in the air for a few seconds, and then—
"Royalty?!"
Momo doesn't know how she got here. She's sitting on a mushroom, legs swinging nervously. Bakugou is staying as far as possible from her while still keeping her in his line of sight. Kaminari is trying to convince him that she's harmless. And Jirou—
"I'm sorry about him," she says, joining Momo beside her on another mushroom. "He doesn't like performing for others. He says he plays music to kill others."
Momo's eyebrows knit together in confusion. "I don't understand how that works?"
"Haha! Me neither. But he's really good, so we let him think what he wants." Jirou shrugs, her fingers drumming against the mushroom's head absentmindedly. Her nails are painted purple, Momo realises. "Do you play any instruments?"
"Oh! Yes, I do." Momo sits up a bit straighter. "I can play the piano, the violin, and the harp."
Jirou lets out a low whistle. "I don't think I've even seen a harp before."
"It's a very beautiful instrument. I think it'll blend well with your voice—" Momo begins gushing, before she cuts herself off. "Sorry. I don't mean to intrude. I'm sure that's why Bakugou-san is so angry."
"Hm? What do you mean?"
Momo hesitates, looking into the distance. Bakugou has escaped Kaminari's hold now and is shooting little explosions at him with the same twig he was using earlier. Kaminari is shooting out small bolts of lightning in return, proving Momo's earlier suspicions that he has electricity-based powers right. Tokoyami is resting by a tree trunk, watching them.
"We live in two different worlds," she says, reaching up to take her crown off. It's a heavy weight in her palms and she stares at the piece of jewellery, wistfulness bleeding into her voice. "I've always known that I'm born more fortunate than others. I do my best to share that wealth, but not everyone is receiving to it. Some creatures see it as pity."
Jirou makes a humming noise. Even such a simple acknowledgment sounds like a melodic tune coming from her.
"And because of that, I could never really make any friends. I'm always seen as a princess first before a fairy. I don't like asking for things because I know others will drop everything just to grant it to me, even if it's unfair." Momo gestures ahead. "Well, except for Bakugou-san, but I can respect his distaste for me."
"He doesn't hate you. He's just like that," Jirou assures. "Besides, well, I didn't realise you were a princess when I first saw you. Neither did Kaminari or Tokoyami— sorry, is that rude to say? I'm just, like, new to the area, so I—"
"It's fine," Momo interrupts, waving a hand dismissively. "It's actually a pleasant surprise. I'd like to be treated like an equal here, if that's alright with you."
"...Okay," Jirou replies softly. She smiles, and for a second, Momo forgets where she is, the sight stealing all the breath out of her lungs.
"Hey, Princess!"
Momo yelps as a string of explosions whizz past her, dragging her attention away. She turns to see Bakugou racing towards her with a menacing smile on his face, Kaminari hot on his heels.
"If you want to listen so bad, then play somethin' for us!" Bakugou announces. "Show us you're not just a pretentious loser!"
"Bakugou," Kaminari hisses. He deflates with a sigh. "I give up."
"No, it's okay," Jirou says, hopping off the mushroom. She turns back, catching Momo's eyes and giving her another warm smile. "You can play the piano, right?"
"This is incredible," Momo whispers, her fingers pressing down onto the wooden keys. The makeshift piano comes to life, almost like magic, and her veins spark with excitement whenever she plays another note. "How is this possible?"
Tokoyami nods his head over at Jirou. "Jirou is a music elf. She specialises in transformation and charms. She can turn anything into an instrument."
"Not anything," Jirou mumbles, ducking her head shyly. "There's complex requirements and stuff, I can't just whip up a drum set out of nothing, and the magic drains me of my energy—"
"Most things, then," Tokoyami corrects. Momo turns to Jirou with her eyes shining in fascination, wondering how it's possible for someone to be this amazing.
"I didn't manage to ask you before, Jirou-san," she says, "but what instruments can you play?"
"She can play everything!" Kaminari announces from where he's fiddling with a guitar. It's made out of red and orange leaves and smells like the autumn trees. The strings resemble flower stems, sturdy and green. "Jirou taught me how to play this guitar. And look!"
His fingers spark, and before Momo knows it, the guitar is doused in electricity. When Kaminari strums it, a loud, distorted noise zips through the air. Momo thinks their surroundings are coming alive, biting at her skin and making the sky look just a bit brighter.
"She made it so that I can use my own magic on it," Kaminari explains.
"That's incredible," Momo whispers.
"Bakugou uses his magic when he plays, too. His explosions make his drums even louder than they need to be," Tokoyami says, ignoring Bakugou's affronted noise. "Yaoyorozu-san, what sort of magic do you do?"
"Oh, it's not anything that can be incorporated into music," she laughs, waving her hand. "I specialise in creation. I can make almost anything non-living if I know the composition of the item."
Jirou's eyebrows fly up. "That's impressive. You have to be really smart, then."
"Disgustingly educated," Bakugou adds on, prompting a whack on his shoulder by Jirou.
"Anyway, would you like to play with us?" Jirou asks, extending her earlier offer again. "I think our music will be even more fun with the piano. Yaoyorozu, can you read sheet music?"
She nods. It's been a while, but she's sure she'll manage. "Yes. And please, just call me Yaomomo."
Jirou's eyes crinkle as she smiles. "Welcome to the band, Yaomomo."
By the time the moon is hanging high in the sky and sweat is dripping down her forehead from exhilaration, Momo thinks that she might just know what freedom tastes like.
It's not a thought she tries to entertain often, for she knows she's bound to her duties and responsibilities at the castle. Eventually, she'll have to take the throne, and she can toss away childish dreams like playing music with elves and dancing in the forest together.
But it's just so fun.
The way the keys feel under her fingers, like each and every one is enchanted with Jirou's spells. Bakugou's strong, intense beats, keeping together the two guitars, one high and one low, creating a dulcet symphony. Jirou picks up the bass, and despite it not being the loudest instrument, Momo can feel her steady rhythm tying the music together, like they're all subconsciously following her playing.
And most of all, Jirou's voice graces their ears, and Momo thinks it's comparable to an angel's choir.
She can't explain it. Jirou's voice is simply too unique for words. It's authentic and full of passion and life, and when she sings, she sings like she can't get enough. When Momo listens to her, she feels inexplicably more alive.
But alas, all things have to come to an end. When it's time to go, Momo's wings flutter slowly, like she isn't just ready to fly off yet.
"That was really fun," Jirou says, her hands held in Momo's. Maybe it's just her imagination, but Jirou's eyes are coated with sadness, and her grip is just a little too tight to be casual. "Will you join us next Friday, too? We'd love to have you."
"I…" Momo hesitates. "I don't— you've been kind enough to me, letting me join once. Are you sure?"
"Obviously! Music is for everyone, princess or not."
Momo swallows down the lump in her throat, warmth crawling up her cheeks. "Then, I'd love to. If you'd have me. Thank you, Jirou-san."
Jirou grins. Momo begins to pull her hands away, however reluctant she may be, but before they can let go, Jirou curls her fingers tighter and drags Momo forward. She stumbles, letting out a surprised gasp, and then there's a soft pair of lips being planted on her cheeks, fleeting and quick.
"Call me Kyouka," Jirou says. The tips of her ears are red and her voice wavers, but her gaze is firm. From behind her, Kaminari smiles brightly, sending Momo a thumbs up. "We'll see you next week."
The words make her blush harder. "O-Okay," she agrees.
As Momo leaves, flying back to the castle, she can't help but squeal into her palms. She wonders if there's something magical in Jirou's kisses too, for her heart is still racing even after they've separated, like there was a spell cast onto her.
She can't wait for next Friday.
