Ara is in a better mood, Shoto's lips curve slightly as he catches the sound of a quiet hum from the other side of their room. The melody, unfamiliar but pleasant, mixes with the sound of her rustling through clothes in her backpack.
He carefully folds his clothes, laying them neatly in his own bag. It's a methodical process, one that keeps his mind occupied, though it doesn't erase the memories of their recent struggles.
Unlike the chaotic encounters with law enforcement during her hospital stay, Arata's police interview went surprisingly well. Shoto suspected that David Shield and All Might were subtly steering things to keep the details hazy, but when he saw how much it brightened Arata's mood, he chose not to dig any deeper.
Returning to Japan won't erase the memories inflicted by the demon, but at least Arata is no longer burdened by legal charges.
Arata's voice is as bright as the clear sky outside their window when she pipes up, "Now that everything's settled and we're definitely going back to Japan tomorrow, how do you feel about our I-Island trip?"
"What do you mean?" Shoto asks, still focused on folding his clothes.
"Remember when you said we should make the most of this trip? I wanna know if you enjoyed it."
Shoto pauses, his gaze landing on a pair of formal pants with a few rips from the recent fight. He stuffs them into a plastic bag. "Well, a villain invasion, a lockdown, and a police interview aren't exactly what I'd call fun."
"Oh, hmm..."
"What?"
"Nothing. It's just... your realistic self is back. I'm wondering where the optimistic Shoto-san from this morning went."
"Try being pessimistic again, Ara, maybe he'll come back."
With two beds separating them, he can't see her face, but he's pretty sure she's rolling her eyes at him. "Very funny, Shoto-san."
"What about you? What's your take?"
"I wouldn't trade it for anything. Sure, some parts were tough, and I'd— I'd erase them if I could, but... I had so much fun with you at the early access event. And I learned a lot about you, Shoto-san."
"Same here. I learned a lot about you too," Shoto replies.
He lets out a quiet sigh as his gaze lands on a tattered red tie. Moments aren't tied to objects, he reminds himself, fingers brushing over the fabric before he stuffs it into the plastic bag with the rest of his damaged formal attire. I have more ties at home, and Ara is still here. The future has more moments to come.
"All things considered, I'm happy I got to be on this trip with you, Shoto-san," Arata says. Along with her ponytail, her voice bounces with a kind of happiness that makes him smile. "Do you think Aizawa-san will allow us to go on trips like this again?"
"Absolutely not."
"Eh?" Her head pops up over the mattress. "Why not?"
"Because, it's not exactly a proper thing to do." A strange look crosses his gaze before he answers her in a low voice. "You do realize that opposite genders generally don't share a room, right?" And for good measure, he adds, "In normal society."
It takes her half a minute to register the implication. "Wait!" Arata flails her hands in embarrassment, her cheeks reddening. "Um— I didn't mean it like that! Of course I know this was a one-time thing!"
"Sure." Shoto sounds serious when saying it, like he actually believes her. However, the ghost of a smirk that adorns his face tells her otherwise.
"I really wasn't implying that I would like to— to share a room again with you," Arata insists, pouting. She shoves the last of her clothes and his maroon hoodie—that she had worn on their first day of the trip—into her backpack with a little more force than necessary.
He raises his mismatched eyebrows, the corners of his mouth almost curling upward. "Mm-hm."
"You don't believe me, do you?"
"Your words, not mine. All I did was agreeing with you, Ara."
"Yeah, with that expression in your face, how can I believe you, Shoto-san?"
"The same way I believe you, even though you implied that you want to go on a trip like this again with me."
"You're being unusually playful right now, Shoto-san."
"And you're being unusually bold by inviting me on a private trip, Ara."
"Now you're just making fun of me." Arata lightly throws a pillow to him and giggles. "You know that's not what I meant. Quit teasing me."
"What if I won't?" Shoto shields himself with one arm. He slowly rises up from his seat on the carpet. "You said we're here to have fun, and that's exactly what I'm doing."
"All right, smart boy." Arata lifts another pillow above her head, a wide grin on her face. "We will see how wide you can smirk after I beat you with this."
"Is that a challenge?" Shoto swiftly pulls his own white, fluffy weapon and flings it to her. It bounces off her left shoulder with a low thud. "I would like to see you try."
"Hey! That's cheating!" Arata laughs, dodging his next throw and tossing a pillow back in retaliation. "Oh, you're so on, Shoto-san!"
──────────
Shoto dodges another pillow aimed at his head with ease. He snatches the fluffy object mid-air and quickly sends it back. It sails across the room, hitting the wall beside Arata's head with a puff.
"You'll have to do better than that, Shoto-san." Arata sticks her tongue out at his miffed expression, playfully spinning a pillow on the tips of her fingers. "Didn't you say that I have a terrible aim? With your misses, I think that makes two of us."
"Stop talking nonsense." Shoto shoots a death glare at her. "I wasn't the one who almost knocked the TV off its mount with a subpar throw. Don't lump me on the same level as you, Ara."
He swears that there is nothing wrong with his aim. It is decent in the least, great most of the time, and impressive at best. But, no matter how fast and how discreet he throws the pillows, somehow Arata always manages to dodge it. Every single time.
He doubts his aim is the culprit in this matter. It may be more related to her ability to react at the drop of a hat. Or is she able to predict where the pillow will land? Whichever it is, it's starting to feel like she has some secret up her sleeve he's not aware of.
"Hey, it was just a moment of bad luck." Arata grins widely. She then grabs a few pillows and launches them at him.
Shoto rolls his eyes as they miss him by a couple of centimeters, despite the fact that he doesn't even move. "Really?" he quirks an eyebrow.
"Um... My hand slipped?" she offers with an uncertain smile.
"In that case, I think your hand must have slipped at every throw. Maybe stick to close-range fights, Ara. Don't want you accidentally taking out your own team."
"Then, unless we want this to end in a stalemate, I'll have to find another way to win, won't I?"
Shoto isn't sure if he likes the hint of mischief underlying her tone. He watches closely as Arata picks up a pillow near her feet, his body tensing in anticipation. But instead of throwing it, she charges at him. She leaps over the pillows on the floor, wielding the pillow like a sword.
Shoto's eyes widen in surprise at the incoming white blur. He ducks just in time as the pillow swoops over his head. Quickly recovering, he grabs another pillow and swats her hip with it, earning a surprised yelp from her.
"One point for me." he smirks triumphantly. "Looks like your new strategy won't work either."
"Don't get cocky yet, Shoto-san."
Arata kicks a smaller pillow toward his face. He parries it easily, but the brief distraction gives her the opening she needs. Before he can react, she dives low. Her pillow smacks the back of his knees. They instantly buckle under the staggering force.
"One for me," she sings, giving him a playful push as he topples. "And down goes The Great Shoto-san."
"I don't think so." Shoto grits his teeth and yanks her wrist, using her weight to pull himself up.
The sudden tug throws her off balance. She stumbles over the scattered pillows on the floor. "Wait, I'm not that strong!"
Instead of regaining his balance, Shoto only manages to bring Arata down with him. The momentum sends them both collapsing onto the soft mattress with a thud.
Not one to miss an opportunity, Shoto quickly grabs one of the pillows on the bed and pokes the girl sprawled beside him with it.
"Hey, stop!" Arata laughs, trying to fend off his playful jabs. She rolls over, attempting to escape, but he's quicker. "I can't believe you brought me down with you!"
"In my defense, you're the one who made me fall," Shoto says amidst his own chuckle. "Besides, friends stick together. If we go down, we go down together."
"Way to make a pillow fight sound intense."
"A fight is a fight. I play to win."
"Clearly," she mutters and playfully pushes him away. There's no edge to her words. Instead, they're soft, laced with a giggle. "The Great Shoto-san is ruthless, but..."
"But?"
"You know..." Arata trails off, suddenly lowering her speaking volume. His grey-cyan eyes narrow in confusion when she closes him in with an indescribable expression and pink cheeks.
From this distance, he is practically breathing in her hair's sweet scent. The body heat she emanates is warm against his skin, spreading a tingling sensation to his chest. And all of a sudden, he is conscious of the little space that separates them on the bed.
Shoto clears the lump at the back of his throat and shoots her a stiff reply. "What?"
"He can use more caution, because this fight isn't over yet!" Without warning, she lightly slaps him with a pillow and jumps out of the bed, putting a few good meters between them. "Yes! One point for me!"
His nervous trance is shattered that exact second. Oh, now he really wants to wipe that smug smirk off her face. He knows this is simply a childish pillow fight, but it doesn't stop him from being competitive.
"Of course it's not over, I haven't won yet." Shoto hears himself laugh as he dodges yet another of her abysmal throws. "You're going down, Ara."