Ripples of Fate

Chapter 5: Umbrella Day

Mailin’s POV

The day begins with the soft patter of rain outside my window, the kind of rain that makes everything feel a little more subdued, a little quieter. I pull on my uniform, grab my umbrella, and head out to start the day. U.A. is beautiful in the rain—the mist curling around the buildings, droplets clinging to the trees, the grounds more peaceful than usual. There’s something calming about it, like the world is taking a breath.

As I walk across campus, I notice a small, drenched kitten huddled under a bush near the path. Its tiny body trembles, and my heart aches for it. Before I can do anything, though, someone else moves ahead of me. I see Shota standing a few feet away, his usual tired expression barely changed, but there’s something in his posture—something gentle. He kneels down, staring at the kitten for a long moment, then slowly places his umbrella over it.

My breath catches.

It’s such a simple, quiet gesture, but it says so much about him. Shota always seems like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, always so serious, so closed off. But seeing him now—doing something so thoughtful without a word, without expecting anyone to notice—it’s like I’m seeing a different side of him. A side that’s softer. A side that feels... familiar.

I want to go over to him, to say something, but I hold back. Instead, I watch as he walks away, leaving his umbrella behind, the rain falling around him.

By the time I make it to class, I can’t stop thinking about what I saw. About Shota and the quiet way he cares for things without ever making a show of it. It’s... endearing.

As the day goes on, I notice he doesn’t have his umbrella anymore. He walks through the hallways slightly damp from the rain, but as usual, he doesn’t seem to mind. It’s like nothing fazes him. But I know better now. There’s more to him than what he shows the world.

Later, in homeroom, something unexpected happens. Shirakumo bursts through the window, laughing like he always does, but this time, he’s holding something—a tiny kitten, wrapped in a dry towel. It’s the same one Shota left his umbrella for.

“Look what I found!” Shirakumo announces, grinning as he walks to the front of the class. “Our little friend from this morning. Found him all cozy under Aizawa’s umbrella!”

The class erupts in laughter and coos of affection for the kitten, and even though Shota tries to hide it, I catch the smallest flicker of embarrassment on his face. His usual stoic mask falters just for a second.

But it’s enough.

I smile to myself, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. There’s something special about him—something that goes beyond his tough exterior. And somehow, I feel like I’m beginning to understand him in a way I never expected.

---

Shota’s POV

The day starts off like any other—gray skies, rain pouring down in sheets. I hate the rain. It makes everything slower, heavier. But there’s something else that weighs on me today, something I can’t quite shake.

As I walk toward school, my usual thoughts are interrupted by the sight of a kitten, shivering and soaked beneath a bush. I stop, staring at it for a moment. It looks so small, so helpless. I don’t know why, but something inside me shifts. Without thinking, I kneel down and place my umbrella over it, shielding it from the rain.

I don’t say anything. I don’t do anything else. I just leave the umbrella and walk away. It’s not like I can take the kitten with me—what would I do with it? Still, the image of that little creature stays with me as I head to class, even though I push it to the back of my mind.

By the time I reach the homeroom, I’ve mostly forgotten about it. Or at least, I’ve tried to.

That is, until Shirakumo bursts into the room with the kitten in his arms.

“Look what I found!” he announces, a huge grin plastered across his face. “Our little friend from this morning, all nice and dry thanks to Aizawa!”

I feel a wave of heat rush to my face, and I quickly look away, trying to act like it doesn’t bother me. But I know everyone’s watching. I hate being the center of attention like this, especially for something that was supposed to be a quiet gesture.

The class is laughing, cooing over the kitten, and I can feel their eyes on me. Normally, I’d brush it off. I’m used to being unnoticed, to keeping my distance from all of this... but this time, it’s different. I know she’s watching.

I glance across the room and see Mailin looking at me. Her gaze is soft, steady, like she’s not just seeing what’s happening on the surface, but something deeper. It makes me feel... exposed, vulnerable in a way I’m not used to. She doesn’t say anything, but I can tell from the look in her eyes that she understands. She gets it. She sees me in a way no one else does.

That unsettles me. But at the same time, it’s comforting. Her calmness, her quiet presence—it’s something I didn’t realize I needed until now. It’s like she’s grounding me, even though we haven’t exchanged more than a few words since the start of the semester.

There’s something about her that draws me in, even though I’ve tried to keep my distance. Maybe it’s the way she carries herself, always composed, always steady. Or maybe it’s the way she looks at me—not with judgment, but with understanding. Either way, I can’t deny the connection I feel.

And for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel so alone in this.