Chapter Text
Shouto had expected the mission to be simple. Escort the research team to the mountain facility, stand guard while they collected samples, and return before nightfall. It was the kind of assignment that didn’t require much thought, which was exactly why he had agreed to it. He liked predictable work. He liked knowing what he was walking into. Unfortunately, the weather didn’t care about his preferences, and the storm rolling over the ridge had arrived hours earlier than forecasted. By the time the team decided to turn back, the wind had already picked up enough to make visibility almost nonexistent. The snow came down in thick sheets, and the path they had taken up the mountain had vanished under it.
He kept his left side warm to shield the researchers from the cold while Momo walked ahead, creating markers out of metal rods to stab into the snow. She was trying to give them a trail to follow, but the wind kept knocking them sideways. Shouto could tell she was frustrated, though she didn’t say anything. She rarely complained, even when she had every right to. He admired that about her, even if he wished she would speak up more when she was pushing herself too hard.
When the first researcher slipped on the ice and nearly tumbled down the slope, Shouto made the decision for all of them. He caught the man by the arm, steadied him, and raised his voice over the wind.
“We’re not making it back tonight. We need shelter.”
Momo turned toward him, her hair whipping across her face. She looked worried, but she nodded without argument. She trusted his judgment, which still surprised him sometimes. He wasn’t used to people doing that so easily.
“There should be an old ranger station nearby,” she said. “About half a kilometer east.”
“Lead the way. I’ll cover the rear.”
They moved slowly, the researchers huddled between them. Shouto kept a steady stream of heat flowing from his left side, careful not to overdo it. He didn’t want to melt the snow beneath their feet and make the ground unstable. Momo kept checking on the others, offering encouraging words and adjusting her pace to match theirs. She had a natural way of making people feel safe. Shouto didn’t think he had that quality, but he tried to compensate with reliability.
By the time they reached the ranger station, the storm had grown violent enough that even he felt the cold biting through his coat. The building was small and half-buried in snow, but it was intact. Momo created a metal bar to pry the frozen door open, and they ushered the researchers inside. Once they were settled, Shouto sealed the gaps in the walls with ice to block the wind. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough.
The researchers fell asleep quickly, exhausted from the climb. Shouto and Momo stayed awake to keep watch, sitting near the small emergency heater in the corner. The room was dim, lit only by the orange glow of the heater and the faint blue light leaking through the frosted window. Shouto could hear the storm battering the walls, but inside it felt strangely calm.
Momo rubbed her hands together, trying to warm them. He noticed the way her shoulders trembled slightly. She had used her quirk nonstop for hours, and he knew how draining that could be. He shifted closer and let a gentle wave of heat radiate toward her. She looked up at him, surprised at first, then grateful.
“Thanks,” she said quietly.
“You’re cold.”
“A little.”
He didn’t say anything else, but he kept the warmth steady. She relaxed beside him, her breathing evening out. He watched the frost forming on the window and tried not to think too much about how close she was sitting. He wasn’t uncomfortable, but he was aware of her in a way he didn’t usually feel around people. It was distracting, though not in a bad way.
“You handled things well today,” she said after a moment. “If you hadn’t taken charge, we might still be out there.”
“I just did what made sense.”
“It was more than that. You kept everyone calm.”
He didn’t know how to respond to that. He didn’t think he had kept anyone calm. He had simply acted. But Momo sounded sincere, and he didn’t want to dismiss her.
“You did a lot too,” he said. “Those markers helped more than you think.”
She smiled a little, and he felt something warm settle in his chest that had nothing to do with his quirk. He looked away before it showed on his face.
The storm continued to howl outside, but the heater hummed steadily, filling the silence between them. Shouto wasn’t good at starting conversations, but he didn’t mind the quiet. Being near her felt easy, even when they weren’t talking. He wondered if she felt the same.
After a while, she leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. Her voice was softer when she spoke again.
“Do you ever think about how different things could’ve been? If we hadn’t ended up in the same class?”
He considered the question. He didn’t like imagining alternate versions of his life. Most of them were worse than the one he had now.
“I’m glad we did,” he said. “I don’t think I would’ve become who I am without everyone there.”
She opened her eyes and looked at him. There was something thoughtful in her expression, something gentle.
“I’m glad too,” she said. “Especially about you.”
He felt the words hit him harder than he expected. He wasn’t sure what to do with them. He wasn’t sure what she meant. He wanted to ask, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment by overthinking it.
“You should rest,” he said instead. “I’ll keep watch.”
She shook her head. “We can take turns. You need rest too.”
“I’m fine.”
“You always say that.”
He didn’t argue, but she must have seen something in his face because she sighed and shifted closer, her shoulder brushing his.
“Then we’ll both stay awake,” she said. “At least for a little while.”
He didn’t move away. He let her stay there, leaning lightly against him. Her presence was warm in a way that didn’t rely on temperature. He found himself relaxing without meaning to. The storm outside felt distant, almost irrelevant.
He wasn’t sure when he started thinking of her as someone he wanted to protect for reasons beyond duty. It wasn’t sudden. It was something that had grown quietly over time, like warmth spreading through ice. Sitting beside her now, he realized it had been there longer than he admitted.
She shifted again, her head resting lightly against his shoulder. He froze for a moment, unsure if she meant to do it, but she didn’t pull away. Her breathing was steady, and he could tell she was finally starting to relax.
“Shouto?” she murmured.
“Yeah.”
“Thank you. For everything today.”
He didn’t know how to answer in a way that matched the weight of her voice, so he spoke honestly.
“I’m glad you were with me.”
She smiled against his shoulder, and he felt it more than he saw it. The heater hummed, the storm raged, and the small room felt warmer than it should have. He didn’t need to say anything else. She stayed close, and he let himself enjoy the quiet, steady comfort of her presence.
For the first time that day, he felt completely at ease.