The hurt in Arata's voice cuts deep. It is unbearable and Shoto wishes he could comfort her, but he doesn't know how. He feels like he should do something, but he can't. His hand is itching to pat her shoulders, like what Uraraka usually does to comfort Midoriya.
But he senses her reluctance. Her gaze tells him she doesn't want to be touched. Shoto's hand curls into a fist, his nails digging into his palm as he grips the white sheets.
What should I do? What can I do?
Words are all they have now, but he is at a loss for what to say to comfort her. No amount of pretty words will ever be enough to heal her pain, and he is left with the frustrating awareness of his own limitations.
Noticing his distress, Arata offers him a fragile smile, grateful for his silent empathy. "There's more," she says weakly, steeling herself to continue.
"But, are you sure you still can continue?" Shoto asks, worry tingling in his deep voice. He won't push her to spill everything right now if she can't bear it.
Arata nods, gathering her strength to recount unpleasant memories. "After that… the Shirayuki were extremely furious," she says, her voice unsteady. "My mother escaped… and I was the only one they could blame, so… they took it out on me.
"Their beatings didn't last long. After a year, they went back to ignoring me. However, they left my ankle in chains, dragging a steel ball with me everywhere I went. It was their way of protecting themselves, so I wouldn't be able to do what my mother did.
"And despite what she did… when the first years went by, I still wished for her to come back, t— to take me with her, away from the Shirayuki… But, after some time, I realized that she would never return for me… and the isolation and stress caught up to me.
"No matter how much I read or how often I watched the TV or how long I stayed busy, nothing could replace human contact. It's all just like a static noise in my head... Little by little, I felt myself inch closer and closer to insanity."
"I felt so alone and numb," Arata sighs, her voice heavy with the weight of her solitude. "No one even cared if I was alive. Perhaps, it would have been better for them if I died in that basement."
"But, Shoto-san," she turns her head towards him, her dark eyebrows furrowing in remorse. "I don't want to die. I also don't want to spend my whole life in an underground chamber. It's selfish... but, I want to live. I— I want to have a chance at living my life, like the princess..."
"'The princess'? Who?"
Silence lingers in the room for a moment before Arata manages to answer Shoto, embarrassment coloring her voice.
"Oh, it's just... a cartoon character I could relate to..." Trailing off, Arata averts her gaze and twirls her own dark tresses, distracting herself. "Perhaps, you'll find it weird, but I know her from this, um, movie on the TV... I've only watched it once, but I remember it as clear as day. Um, should we change the topic? I don't think you need this info for the investigation, or anything really..."
"No, go on. I want to know," Shoto doubles down, his eyes fixed on Arata with an earnestness that roots her in place. "What about her?"
It's nothing special, Arata wants to say. She is quite certain that Shoto isn't interested in fairy tales or princesses on his own accord. However, those words crumble at the sight of his solemn expression, the way he is genuinely looking into her eyes... and wanting to know more.
No one has ever looked at her like that. Like they actually cared about her opinions and whatnot. Like they would not just tuck her away in the deepest corner of the basement and pretend she was just an afterthought. Like they were here for her and nothing else could change that.
Shoto listens to her, no matter how small her voice is and how trivial the conversation is. With him, no word of hers goes unheard.
It does cross her mind sometimes, whether he treats her this way just because of the inside story she withholds. Whether he would change his demeanor once they managed to extract information from her. A part of her thinks that she won't see him again after this... because, what for?
That being said, Arata desperately wants to believe what they have is real. That all his visits are not all for mere information. That there's an ounce of him that really cares for her as a person, not an investigation subject. Then, all that's left for her... is to cave in and let time run its course.
So, with a deep sigh, Arata surrenders to the moment. Her voice cracks as she begins to reveal a piece of herself to Shoto.
"The character... She had been locked in a tower for years, isolated from the outside world. Every day in her life passed by inside those walls, doing chores, without any freedom to step out. Her only access to the outside world was the window, and she could only watch when seasons changed.
"Then, one way or another, she eventually managed to escape her tower and went on an adventure. Outside, she saw more than she could've ever seen in books, chased after a dream she could've ever dreamed of, and... met a lot of real people—ones who really cared about her...
"I know my circumstances aren't identical to hers. I'm not a princess like she was... and— and she's merely a fictional character... But, seeing her being able to run away from her prison and being so happy and free... gave me hope. Hope that someday, I too could live my own life... like her.
"I wanted to feel grass under my feet. I wanted to see trees changing colors. I wanted to smell flowers blooming on the field. I wanted to be directly under the sunlight, not through a small hole in the basement anymore. And mostly, I wanted to be free... away from the Shirayuki…
"So, I set up my escape. I let the chains rot under the vinegar water. The Shirayuki land was covered with snow throughout the year, but it's thinnest in the summer. Two weeks ago, I ran away and didn't look back. I didn't know where I was going, but I knew I had to get as far away as possible. After years of being locked up, all I wanted was to breathe the air of the outside world and sleep under the open sky.
"I was sleeping inside the giant cylinder on the playground when the kidnapping happened," Arata murmurs to Shoto with a grim tone. "And it was there, as I lay hidden, I heard him crying and calling for his mom when they took him… I— I couldn't bear it. So, I tried my best to save him and... you know how the rest of the story turns out."
For a few moments, silence reigns. A heavy atmosphere settles between them. Arata rests her crossed arms on her knees, her face buried in the crook of her arms, seeking a momentary refuge from the weight of her past.
"Well, that's it." Arata looks up, the glassy look in her eyes betraying the small smile she offers to him. "Sorry it took a while for me to share."
"I understand. These things take time," he says.
A pause stretches between them as he racks his brain for the right words to say to the girl who has just laid her soul bare in front of him. "I wish… there was a way to spare you from all of this," he continues, as earnest as he can.
"… Me too," she whispers back, her voice trailing off into the quiet that still lingers between them. "Thank you for everything, Shoto-san. If you don't mind, could you please, um…"
His gaze, though gentle, is heavy with his own inner turmoil as it meets hers. "Do you want me to leave?"
"Um, yeah... If you don't mind," she replies, her voice small and weary.
"It's okay. I could use some time too, to process everything."
Arata expects him to rise, to head for the door. But he remains still, his eyes never leaving hers, an unreadable gaze that holds her in place. She looks away, feeling the intensity of his scrutiny.
After a few seconds, finally Shoto opens his mouth. "If you want to talk, ask Aizawa-sensei to contact me. It doesn't matter what time. This hospital is close to my house, so visits won't be a problem."
"I'm sure you have other priorities," Arata declines politely, not wanting to impose.
"Ara," Shoto calls out, his voice solemn. "I don't say things that I don't mean."
He may not be the most eloquent conversation partner, but this is the only thing he can offer. In the face of her pain, the virtues he take pride in—his power, his quirk, his skills—are inconsequential. All he has to offer is his friendship, as inadequate as it may feel to himself.
Arata meets his gaze. "Okay," she replies, tucking her doubts into the back of her mind for now, a small smile tugging at her lips. She might have answered him because of the commanding tone in his voice, but it is the concern in his grey-cyan eyes that thaws her heart. "Thank you, Shoto-san."
He nods, his hand reaching for the door handle. Yet, just as he is about to exit, he recalls something that she said. "I forgot to mention this earlier. There is nothing selfish about wanting to live. It's just natural. So, keep living, because it's your life, Ara. Never forget that."
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As Todoroki has expected, Arata's room is equipped with a recording system, so he doesn't have to recount what he has learned to Aizawa and the police. While it certainly makes his job easier, it costs Arata her privacy. He wonders if she even knows about the monitoring devices they use on her. However, he isn't here to talk about it.
Aizawa raises one hand to greet Todoroki. As socially inept as he is, Todoroki has managed to coax an important piece of puzzle they have been looking for. His student has gone a long way. From a cold, anger-ridden boy to an earnest, kind-hearted hero candidate.
"You've heard her story yourself," Todoroki remarks upon seeing his teacher, the iron in his voice unyielding. "We can't let her go back to the Shirayuki. And definitely not Hanakiri."
Aizawa rolls his dark eyes. Todoroki's idealistic approach hasn't changed at all, though. The boy has no hesitation to defy orders he thinks as wrong and do things his own way. Aizawa knows as much following his run in with Stain.
Aizawa sighs, scratching his own unruly mass of hair. "You know I have no jurisdiction over the case. It isn't a hero's job to decide things. The police are the ones who handle the legal decisions."
Of course Todoroki knows. He doesn't go to school for nothing. But, he also knows this investigation probably won't end in Arata's favor, despite all the hardships she has been through. The lack of legal records puts her in a serious disadvantage.
"Todoroki," Aizawa says with his usual boring tone. "I get where you're coming from, but let's wait for their decision first. They trust us to do our part well, and we trust them to do their part well."
"Fine."
"Technically, your involvement in the case ends here. You've done a great job in bonding with Arata and extracting information from her. There is no obligation for you to maintain the visits anymore. In contrast, regarding her concerning background, the official recommendation is to keep your contact with her to a minimum."
Aizawa notices the darkening of Todoroki's grey-cyan eyes at his last sentence. Aizawa doesn't say it out loud, but the way the police still phrase Arata as a potential danger bothers him too. Haven't they investigated enough to see that she isn't a villain? It is disturbing that at the end of the day, prejudice tramples all.
"I need to see how this ends by myself," Todoroki shoots down the idea without hesitation. He refuses to obey a warning that is based on a bias. He won't abandon a friend in need because of unfounded suspicions.
"Yeah, I know," Aizawa grunts lazily. "I won't stop you from visiting. Just... don't cause a problem."
Todoroki doesn't expect his teacher to be on the same page with him on this matter. The boy scowls suspiciously towards him, but Aizawa merely shrugs his shoulders. Aizawa doesn't see why he should stop Todoroki's visits when they bring Arata hope.
After what Hanakiri and the Shirayuki did to her, one had to be heartless to take away this small solace from her.
"I'll take my leave then," Todoroki bids Aizawa farewell, his tone abrupt as he cuts their conversation short. Aizawa nods in acknowledgment, his gaze steady.