Ice Cold

Return

"Excuse me?"

The water you had dancing above your head fell onto you and you opened your eyes in annoyance.

I am on a roof, who could possibly—

"Kid, you're kind of close to the edge there."

The water soaking you hair was flung out and turned to ice picks in the air, shooting in the direction of the one who had snuck up on you.

In return, red feathers collided with them and both stopped and fell to the roof the two of you resided on.

You sighed and flicked your wrist. The ice returned to water and found refuge in the pouch that lied beside you. "Hawks."

"You could look at me when you're greeting me."

"I could." You picked up your bento box you prepared for yourself, which only had store bought mochi in it, and pretended to be occupied with it.

He sighed. "I get that you're mad at me."

"I am?"

He noticed the genuine confusion in your voice. "Do you... know how it feels?"

"Anger... Yes, I do. I'm not angry at you." You opened your bento box, then closed it, then opened it again.

I'm not angry at him, right? It doesn't feel like anger. But, it's not like I don't have some sort of negative emotion aiming at him.

You thought about when you heard of Hawks' role in Twice's death, how this odd feeling bordering anger and frustration filled your chest. Every time you heard him, you thought about what he had said to Twice.

"Is this about Twice?"

You were silent, still isolated in your own conflicted thoughts.

Hawks glanced at your hero costume folded at your side, then at your sweater that didn't seem to belong to you on your figure. As far as he was concerned, the only person you spoke to while you were out here was Midoriya.

It's not that you were one who needed to talk to someone like most people did. You seemed to actually find solace in silence. After all, rooftops were your favourite places. Especially the high ones from where no one could see you.

You always seemed off put by Hawks, and he always thought it was because you and him were so different.

His morals, especially.

Yours were so set in stone and he was so loose with them. Honestly, his morals were flimsy. He was a hero but he had so much blood on his hands. You, on the other hand, felt guilty for things that you couldn't even control—not that you even killed anyone.

He was "optimistic to a fault", to the point where he seemed morally bankrupt. You saw it that way, at least.

For a long time, he didn't say anything. It was so long that you thought he had left.

Then the sight of his crimson wings came into your peripheral vision and you found him perched on the side of the roof like a bird.

"We call the feeling contempt." He said, following your gaze to the land below. "Wanna have a heart to heart?"

You sighed. "Fine."

"So what's your deal with the league?"

"When you spend enough time with people, you begin to understand them. Don't you think?"

"You have... a lot more compassion than someone would think."

You hummed.

"You know it had to be done."