maneuvering through

A Woman On A Mission (pt.2)

'Madness.'

The only word Shouto found fitting to describe the situation.

Three years of burgeoning hero career and he never once fronted a ridiculously absurd situation as he has now. He encountered hysterical and outrageous fans before but not the same kind that forced him to sit before a surfeit dinner table, in a quaint lavishly decorated pavilion, right in front of a lagoon-shaped swimming pool.

She had everything planned, and by the looks of it had been following his tracks. She was smiling demurely at him as though she hadn't dragged him out here through the pull of her quirk.

Her quirk rendered him helpless and yielding. Likened to an improvised version of Shinsou's quirk. Though hers didn't even need any sort of acknowledgment to manifest. But he couldn't just sit there and marvel like a seven-year-old fawning over the functions of her quirk, right now, he needed to get away from her proximity and stop listening to her awfully sweet voice. And then there's Hiyori.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for a chance like this Shouto-san." Her eyes locked on him, her chin resting on her palms. "Those other girls would kill for a chance like this."

His gaze was cautious as she poured out wine into their glasses.

She held hers, watching the crimson liquid dance in idle circles, while he was counting the seconds before she speaks again.

"From the moment I saw your face during that sports fest, I have dedicated my life to following you," Resting her back on the soft cushions of their seats, "I haven't introduced myself, haven't I?" She held her slender fingers towards him. In retrospect, teenage Shouto would accept it without malice, but even his adult self couldn't restrain himself when she told him to take her hand, despite the dispute happening inside his head. His years of training hadn't prepared him for situations like this. A nonviolent quirk wherein he couldn't think of an escape, except for some external intervention.

"Sayuri Akutagawa. We've met before, the... concert."

'There should be... some kind of cancellation of the quirk. He can't stay here any longer.'

The chilling winds of the summer night brushed past the slender trees surrounding the pool area. The efforts of making the night romantic had been nothing but jarring, the fairy lights that orbited the structure looked haunting to him. The course meal was far from appetizing. And he felt more like a slave taking orders from a master and not a date, and he called for some miracle in a form of some outsider's help to drag him out of this predicament.

A bark of a dog. A hiss of a cat. Anything.

"Would you like to dance?"

He jolted back into the small part of his consciousness he can control.

Sayuri didn't look bad, he thought she had a pleasant and innocent-looking face. Any man who would love to dance with her would be fortunate to have her eyes on them. Her countenance would be enough to take any man for a date, yet ironically, here she was, utilizing her quirk to get him to obey.

His body moved before he could stop himself, closing firmly his eyes when a hand made it to her waist and another snuggled her hand.

Shouto held his breath when she moved closer and leaned on his chest, consciously feeling her warmth heightened by the cool breath of night air.

His first dance had been awkward and way back in UA. He could pretend that he was dancing with the same girl, the one he wanted to dance with herewith. But the color of her hair nor her scent was working against him. She was nowhere near compared to Momo.