Chapter 4

'Does anyone?' Shouto shook his head tersely at the question echoing in his own mind. "No one ever asked before," he admitted, carefully sliding his finished meal further down the table.

"No one?" Momo repeated with surprise. "Hmm. Seems…sad," she mumbled, resting her forearms on the table as she slid her phone between her hands. "That something so important to you…" Momo trailed off suddenly, her head coming up, eyes flickering to him before she looked away.

"Uh. Never mind," she shrugged at last, colour blossoming in her cheeks.

Shouto shook his head again, releasing a quiet breath. "No, you're right," he agreed, shrugging uncomfortably. "It is important to me. And I…" he chewed at his lower lip, searching for the words he wanted. "I suppose it's ungrateful to focus on…"

'On what?' he thought suddenly. 'The fact that I never tried to tell people what the song was actually about?' Shouto sighed audibly, "It's hard to explain," he finished lamely.

Momo's head bobbed as she picked up her phone off the table and slipped it into her coat pocket. "Yeah…I guess it would be," she said, her words having a strange note of finality to them. "It looks like we've both finished our meals…"

"Hm?" Shouto grunted, his eyes flickering to the plates waiting to be bussed at the end of the table. "Oh. Yeah."

"I'm sure you, you know, want to get back to enjoying your day off." Momo said, shifting a little closer to the edge of the bench.

Shouto's stomach dropped. 'She's saying goodbye!' he realized with dread.

Momo stood up, wrapping her yellow scarf around her neck as she did. "I'm sorry I bothered you. But, uh, it was nice." She looked at him, meeting his eyes for a moment. "I…I know you meet lots of people every day and probably get hounded by women all the time." Momo's shoulders hunched upwards a little at that last part.

"But, ah, thank you," she pressed on quickly, warm grey eyes meeting his overtop of a small smile. Momo extended her right hand towards him. "It was nice, for a minute, to make a new friend. Good luck toni—"

"I'd rather spend the rest of the day with you," Shouto finally managed to unstick his tongue. He got to his feet and took Momo's offered hand with both of his. "If…if that's ok," he continued, unsure.

Shouto knew it was what he wanted. 'Doesn't mean she feels the same,' he reminded himself. Pulling his left hand through the side of his hair, Shouto glanced away. "We could go back to pretending I'm some dense idiot that doesn't get your favourite song?" he asked hopefully.

Momo's eyes widened, her mouth working, but no sounds came out. Her hand slipped out of his as a blush spread across her features. "That's…You're very polite." Her fingers worried at the hair behind her right ear. "Umm, kind. But I…" With one last glance up at his face, Momo spun and bolted for the door.

Confusion flooded Shouto. 'What did I say?' He desperately wanted to dash after her, but was acutely aware of the potential eyes watching him now. Reaching into his pocket, Shouto grabbed out money for their meals and slapped it down on the edge of the table.

Without a second thought to the scene it might create, Shouto rushed to the door and back outside into the cold. His eyes swept up and down the sidewalk until he caught sight of a flash of red. "Momo!" he called, no longer caring about the attention he drew from the people he dodged around trying to reach her.

"Momo!" Shouto called again, certain she had heard him, but her stride only quickened.

Shouto reached out thumb and index finger, snagging the material at the elbow of Momo's sleeve. "Wait, please?" he pleaded, trying to fall in step beside Momo as she kept on walking.

"Why?" she asked, in a small voice, her eyes remaining determinedly facing straight ahead.

"I…" Shouto stopped staring at Momo in confusion, "Why what?"

Her eyes did flicker to him then, just a brief flash of grey, and they continued walking down the sidewalk. "Why…I don't know, why anything…"

Shouto might have felt like laughing at her reply if it wasn't for the confusion swirling in his head. He didn't understand this change in Momo. 'Did I say something stupid? Have I offended her?' Somehow, Shouto didn't think either was the right answer.

"Why did you speak to me in the park?" Shouto asked suddenly, keeping pace with Momo easily and leaning a little closer to keep their conversation private.

Momo's steps slowed marginally, and she actually glanced at him for a moment. "I don't know…" she said, her shoulders shrugging inside her coat. "You looked…sad…I just wanted to see you smile. I don't know why…"

"Same reason I don't want to just let you walk away," he told her with more confidence than he truly felt.

"But I—" Momo stopped then, turning to face Shouto, her cheeks red, eyes bright. "I'm not anyone," she whispered fiercely, eyes dropping.

"I…uh," Shouto began, but stopped, his mind actually processing what Momo had just said. He drew a breath, looking down at her. "This is why…I just wanted to be me for the day."

He gave his head a small shake. "I'm not anyone either," he said honestly, but immediately saw Momo's mouth open, her expression becoming one of denial.

"I'm just a guy who sang a song people liked." He shrugged, a dry chuckle escaping his throat. "It's not even me that they like. Or I wouldn't have to cover this up…" he sighed, gesturing to the scar around his eye.

Momo's mouth snapped shut, her eyes meeting his before flickering to the scar. Those full lips turned downwards at the corners before Momo looked away. Shouto cast a glance up at the low-hanging clouds, wishing in that moment that he could go back to before Katsuki had ruined everything.

'Who's to say this isn't always how it would have gone?' that annoying thought filtered out of the back of Shouto's mind as he searched for something to say.

A passerby bumped into Shouto's shoulder with a muttered apology, bringing him out of himself and back to where they stood. Biting the inside of his lip, Shouto reached out a hand towards Momo's elbow but stopped just shy of touching her.

"Thanks for being with me today," he said around a sudden lump in his throat. "I was…I really liked getting to know you." Shouto smiled, though inside he felt more like grimacing as he said, "I wish it didn't turn out like, well…I get it."

He frowned then, puffing out a breath. "Being famous is too much…" Shouto turned, though it was the hardest thing he'd done, and made to walk away.

Shouto felt something jerk at the elbow of his coat and stopped just as something solid pressed into his shoulder. Glancing out the corner of his right eye, Shouto saw with surprise Momo had pressed her head against him.

Warmth rushed through Shouto, his heart rate speeding up, not just from the physical connection with Momo, but also from the realization that he didn't know what to do now.

"There's a museum exhibit…" Momo's voice sounded a little muffled as she spoke into his coat. "I was going to explore it. It's a short walk from here…"

Shouto turned to face Momo, excitement coursing down his spine, electrifying his limbs as he smiled down at her. "I've been to it so many times growing up," he told her.

Momo looked up at him, her expression unsure, but Shouto thought she looked hopeful. Opening his mouth, he had to clear his throat before he could make himself speak. "Would you like to go with me?" he asked.

The smile that spread on Momo's lips made Shouto's pulse quicken. "Sounds nice." She looked at him through her lashes, her smile only growing. "I'd like that."

Shouto drew himself up, squaring his shoulders. "I need to be honest with you, though."

Her eyes went wide. "What else have you been hiding?" she asked with an unsure giggle.

"I'm asking you to go on a date," he told her clearly. 'If this is my second chance, I'm not messing it up.' He thought with determination.

"Oh," she gasped softly. "Well, I would like that," Momo said, but the smile dropped from her lips as she looked at him. "But only if that means you don't, you know, ah…"

Shouto regarded quizzically for a moment before her concern clicked in his addled brain. "I don't have a girlfriend," he told her with a shake of his head. "Katsuki's an asshole. Forget him."

…

"I'd think, being the one who wrote it," Shouto said, smiling down at Momo as they completely ignored the piece of art they stood before. "Would, I don't know, make me the ultimate judge of it?"

"Ah," she was quick to say, her bright eyes staring back at him with playful challenge. "Judge of the intent you had when writing it, I'll agree to that. But you can't deny that words heard by different people can have different meanings even when they remain exactly the same."

Shouto's eyes narrowed as he concentrated on Momo's expression, her smile so lively, eyes glittering in the fine lighting of the museum. "Doesn't what you say also mean someone is inherently wrong in their understanding of those words?"

"Not necessarily."

"Up can't mean down," he contended.

Momo chuckled softly into her hand, her shoulder bumping against his arm as she did. "You're being too literal," she told him, her eyes looking beyond him a second before she took his arm and guided him further down the corridor.

"I'm not debating the meaning of individual words. Although I could point out some that have separate and contradictory meanings." She laughed, and it was a sound Shouto thought he could never grow tired of hearing. "I'm talking more about the interpretation of the words and how an individual could perceive them differently."

Shouto raised an eyebrow at that, "Does that mean I have no final say on my own song?" he asked, amused, and enjoying the course of their conversation, how easily he could speak to Momo.

"You created it," Momo beamed at him, "you know what you felt and thought when you did. But you shared it with the world, you let that song touch the lives of countless people, including me. And I'm here to tell you," she planted her feet and pointed a finger at the middle of his chest. "I hear the voice of someone battling back."

He smiled, a soft breath escaping him when Momo's index finger connected to his chest. "I'll agree there's a battle," he allowed, but then frowned, looking away. "What You See of Me was an outlet for the position I was forced into."

"An outlet," Momo mused, her head tilting to one side as she studied him intently. "Hmm, ok. So then, you see it as a battle you could never win?"

"I…" Shouto's voice stuck thickly in the back of his throat.

Momo smiled at him. "I haven't known you that long," she said carefully. "But I don't see that in you."

"What?" he asked, blinking in confusion.

Her elbow connected with his side, just below his ribs. "A defeatist attitude," Momo told him with a smirk.

"It's not defeat," Shouto countered slowly, shaking his head, throat still tight against the emotion stirred in him. "A frustration that I can't—"

"Be who you are?" Momo filled in.

"Yes!" Shouto exclaimed, and winced internally at the sharp looks he received from the people admiring art around them.

The smile Momo offered him was a sheepish one, before she tipped her head towards the exit of this exhibit. Shouto was more than happy to leave their current location behind and follow his date.

His heart thudded in his chest, a nervous excitement coursing through him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so relaxed in the company of another human being. Where he might just be able to be himself, and accepted for who he was.

Momo's steps slowed as they entered another part of the museum. Shouto glanced about the spacious room, pleased to see there was no one else there. Momo didn't immediately move towards the outer ring of the room where the various art pieces hung or sat on displayed pedestals. Instead, she took a seat on the bench there.

Shouto hesitated a moment before taking his seat, right hand coming to rest on the wood between them. He glanced surreptitiously towards Momo, who appeared deep in thought. Unsure what to say to break the silence between them, Shouto found his attention drifting towards the art.

The warmth of Momo's hand coming to rest securely over top of his brought Shouto back. Looking to his right, he saw Momo's brow pulled together in thought, but her lips held a contented smile as she looked towards him.

Holding his breath for fear she might pull back. Shouto turned his hand beneath Momo's, interlacing his fingers with hers. For a moment, he just looked at their joined hands, marveling at the security he felt in that simple human connection.

He looked up when Momo suddenly shifted beside him. She drew her left knee onto the bench so she could more easily face him. "While it's true that our scars and experiences contribute to the person we become." She began earnestly, her warm grey eyes locking onto his.

"That they impact who we want to be, or even what we want the world to believe. About us." She shifted closer, her focus never leaving his face. "It's a mistake to think that our scars are the only thing we are."

Momo licked her lips, which teased into another smile. "So far, you've been wrong about a lot of things. You're not just a guy with a scar. And you're not just a guy who sings a song."

"People don't become what you are to others unless they have something really special inside." Momo's smile became sad as she looked down at their joined hands. "I don't know where that got lost for you…" she shrugged, eyes meeting his again. "Maybe it's the business of everything."

Shouto stared for a minute, snapping his mouth shut. 'She thinks I'm special,' that thought ignited a fire inside of Shouto. "It's the hiding," he heard himself say. The truth slipped from him without hesitation.

"Your scar, you mean?" she asked, her attention remaining squarely in his own eyes.

"Yeah…" he huffed, a weight easing off his shoulders to have finally admitted that out loud.