You Shouldn't Put Cats In Trees
The morning light that filtered through the wintery cold in the mountain village of Hakurei hilighted the strange things happening to the windows of the Mountain View Suite at the Hakurei Inn. Frost patterns spiralled across the glass before melting away into fog, only to freeze again moments later in an endless cycle. The phenomenon went unnoticed by the room's occupants, too absorbed in each other to pay attention to the effects their connection had on the world around them.
In the large four-poster bed, Ren and Shoto lay facing each other, their clothes long since discarded despite the early hour. Had they even slept? Neither of them could remember. Dreams were blending into every day life; that boy next door, the one with the red and white hair had his hands on her waist, burning and freezing her skin gently as though marking her as his own. That girl with her face up on screens and glossy magazine spreads was begging him softly to fuck her.
The room was warm from the gently crackling fireplace, its light catching on the delicate ice crystals forming on the windows. The scent of wood smoke mingled with the crisp mountain air that seeped in through the old window frames, creating an atmosphere that felt removed from time itself.
Ren's lips traced a path along Shoto's neck, drawing shuddering breaths from him that seemed to echo in the quiet room. Her dark hair fell like silk across his chest as she moved, contrasting beautifully with skin. The only sounds were the soft press of her kisses, her whispered promises of how well behaved she'd be if he gave in to her, and his increasingly uneven breathing, punctuated by the occasional pop from the fireplace.
The young hero's quirk responded to her touch without his conscious direction, creating the strange dance of temperatures that affected the windows. His right side cooled then his left heated up, before the two powers were working in harmony rather than opposition for once. The effect intensified as Ren found a particularly sensitive spot beneath his ear, causing ice crystals to form oversized snowflakes on the windows before melting away.
"Ren," Shoto managed, his voice rough as he tried to maintain some semblance of control, "we should really consider doing something other than each other this weekend." His hands tightened on her waist as she continued her attention to his neck, seemingly determined to ignore his suggestion.
Ren paused torn between amusement at this bolder version of Shoto that had emerged recently and the desire to silence him by trailing kisses down his chest and abdomen. Her lips curved against his skin as she replied, her voice muffled and playful, "Like what?"
"Like eat."
The practical response was so quintessentially Shoto that Ren had to pull back to look at him properly and laugh. "Oh yeah," she said, a bright smile on her face as she watched the morning light catch the red and white strands of his hair, "I forgot we have to do that." Her smile faded as Shoto extracted himself from their embrace, the warmth of his body leaving her momentarily frozen. The wooden floorboards creaked softly under his feet as he stood and put his clothes back on.
"Let's go to that café we passed last night," he suggested, seemingly oblivious to the picture he made standing there in the golden morning light, his hero's physique on full display. without him noticing, Ren used her foot to push his t-shirt off the other side of the bed to earn her a few more moments of the view.
"Or," Ren countered slowly, pulling the plush white duvet higher, "we could stay inside?" Outside, the village was blanketed in pristine snow from the previous night's fall, untouched and gleaming in the early morning sun.
Shoto paused as he searched the floor and duvet for his t-shirt. He looked up at her with a look of genuine confusion. "What, why?"
"Because it's cold outside," Ren replied, burrowing deeper under the covers until only her eyes were visible, grey and sparkling with mischief. "And it's nice and warm in here!" She hoisted the duvet over her head much to Shoto's bewilderment.
"Ren." His tone carried equal parts exasperation and affection.
"Let's stay in bed," came her muffled response from beneath the blankets.
Shoto reached out and grasped the edge of the duvet. With one fluid motion, he pulled it back to reveal Ren's face, her dark hair spread across the pillow like spilled ink, her expression a careful blend of innocence and seduction that she had perfected just for him. The sight made his chest tighten with want, but confusion won out.
"The whole point of coming here was to be able to go outside together without being recognised," he reminded her. "To pretend we're normal humans - remember?"
"I know, but..." Ren's voice trailed off, her eyes dropping to study the intricate pattern on the duvet.
"But?" Shoto's voice softened slightly. But Ren did not respond, instead she bit her lip as though hoping she had turned invisible. "Don't do the silent thing," he warned her, "you know I hate it when you do that; it's really unfair-"
"Okay, okay!" Ren sat up, pulling the blanket up to her chest, her cheeks turning a little pink as she gathered her courage. "It's just... if we do go outside and people recognise us..." Unwillingly, Shoto's chest constricted as he waited for her to continue, fighting against the instinctive fear that she was ashamed to be seen with him, that he wasn't good enough for her. He forced himself to remain quiet, to let her explain. "They'll hound you, Shoto," she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. "They'll talk about you the way those college kids talked about me on the train."
"They'll speculate that I look good naked?" he asked, his face completely serious.
A small smirk tugged at the corner of Ren's mouth. "Trust me, people have already done that."
"I don't understand."
Ren sighed, running a hand through her tousled hair. "They'll talk about you all the time. You won't be able to go anywhere without someone shoving a phone in your face, demanding your attention when all you want is to get coffee like a normal person." Her voice cracked slightly. "There is no normal if you're with me, Shoto. I love you. I don't want that life for you."
The vulnerability in her voice made something in Shoto's chest ache. But his practical nature couldn't quite grasp her concern. "I already have a public profile," he pointed out. "It will continue to grow as my career does. It has nothing to do with you."
"Yes, but if it comes out we're together, the conversation around you will change," Ren insisted, her hands twisting in the sheets. "It won't be about your work anymore - it'll be about us. All the rumours, all the horrible speculation, all the painful things you hope no one noticed about your life, put out there in print for everyone to read."
"You're saying that like it somehow outweighs being with you."
For such a clueless guy, you sure know how to make a girl feel special.
Shoto watched as Ren's grey eyes sparkled up at him, his words affecting her more than he knew they could."What if it does?" Ren's voice was small, afraid. "What if it's too much?"
"Isn't that my choice to make?" Shoto moved to sit beside her on the bed, his dual-colored eyes intense as they met hers. His hand found hers among the sheets, squeezing gently. "Nothing outweighs being with you."
Tears pricked at the corners of Ren's eyes as she reached up to cup his face in her hands. "I love you," she whispered in wonderment; how far had they come? From throwing stones at the immovable Shoto Todoroki's window, to having him reassure her that he loved her.
"I love you too," Shoto replied. "Can we please go and eat something now?"
As if on cue, Ren's stomach rumbled loudly, breaking the emotional tension. Their laughter filled the room, mingling with the crackling of the fire and the soft whisper of falling snow outside. She nodded eagerly, watching him move away and walk to the bathroom, as he did so he glanced around the room.
"Have you seen my t-shirt?"
"No," Ren called out innocently.
The morning air bit at their faces as they emerged from the warmth of the inn, their breath forming delicate clouds in front of them. Ren had bundled herself thoroughly against the cold - a cream-coloured fluffy hat pulled low over her ears, an oversized scarf wrapped multiple times around her neck, and a dark winter coat that made her look smaller than usual. Her reluctance to venture outside manifested in the way she pressed close to Shoto's side, seeking his warmth as they descended the inn's front steps onto the snow-covered street.
The village was beginning to stir, early risers making their way to work or running morning errands. Each person they passed offered a simple "good morning" accompanied by genuine smiles, their eyes sliding past without a hint of recognition. No phones appeared to capture their image, no hushed whispers followed in their wake. They were, for the first time, simply two young people enjoying a winter morning together.
Ren's tension gradually melted away with each friendly greeting that carried no ulterior motive, each passerby who saw them as nothing more than another couple visiting their mountain town. She found herself returning the villagers' smiles, her shoulders relaxing as she realised the freedom this anonymity afforded them. Almost unconsciously, her hand found Shoto's, their fingers intertwining naturally. He glanced down at their joined hands, a faint blush colouring his cheeks that had nothing to do with the cold. As they made their way toward the café, their footprints leaving parallel tracks in the fresh snow, Ren squeezed his hand gently - a silent acknowledgment of this small miracle of normalcy they'd found in the mountains.
They approached Yamagawa Cafè quickly, eager to escape the cold. The cafe occupied a traditional two-story building constructed in the distinctive style of Japan's northern mountain regions. Its dark wooden exterior and sloped roof bore the weight of fresh snow, while paper lanterns hung unlit beneath the eaves, swaying gently in the morning breeze. A stone path, meticulously swept clear of snow, led to the sliding door, where steam from within fogged the glass panels, suggesting the warmth and comfort that awaited inside.
Shoto and Ren were surprised to find that the traditional Japanese exterior gave way to an unexpectedly modern interior, where minimalist Scandinavian design merged seamlessly with local elements. Warm wood tones complemented stark white walls, while delicate paper lanterns hung alongside sleek pendant lights. The scent of freshly baked pastries filled the air - matcha cheesecake, miso caramel banana bread, and other innovative fusion creations that bridged cultural divides.
The café's most striking feature was an entire glass wall, offering a breathtaking yet unsettling view of the valley beyond. The sheer drop between snow-capped mountains created an illusion of floating above the world, suspended between earth and sky.
By the drinks cooler, Shoto browned the options and contemplated how he and Ren often existed between two dualities. Everything about their weekend seemed to exist in this space between opposites - traditional and modern, familiar and foreign, private and public. Like his own quirk, like their relationship, like the control and submission they had found in their most intimate moments, it was about finding beauty in the balance of opposing forces.
He selected an iced coffee before reaching for a strawberry milk he knew Ren would appreciate. As he approached the counter, he observed several patrons glancing appreciatively at Ren as she removed her fluffy winter hat to order their hot breakfast. Her dark hair cascaded past her shoulders, catching the morning light that streamed through the windows. Even without recognition, she commanded attention - something in the way she carried herself, the natural grace that no amount of media training could manufacture.
The elderly man behind the counter was mid-conversation with Ren, his weathered face animated as he spoke about the café. "My daughter's dream, this place," he said proudly, gesturing to the young woman operating the espresso machine. "I just help out on Saturdays."
The daughter, perhaps in her mid-twenties, offered a shy "good morning" before catching sight of Shoto. A faint blush coloured her cheeks as she turned quickly back to her work. Ren smiled sympathetically;yeah, he'll do that to you.
The man reached out to scan the coffee and strawberry milk that Shoto placed on the counter beside Ren as the man rang up their order. As he was about to hand the coffee to Ren, a look of recognition crossed his face.
"Has anyone ever told you," he said to Ren, "you look just like," he pulled the coffee just out of her reach as he turned to his daughter, "what was her name, sweetheart?"
"Rosie Ishikawa," his daughter replied without turning around, too busy with preparing hot drinks.
"That's it!" The man beamed. "She's an old actress," he explained to a politely quiet Ren. "My Yuki here was obsessed with her when she was little."
"She was way before their time, Papa," Yuki interjected, focused on steaming milk. "Like twenty years ago..."
"I suppose." The man's smile turned nostalgic, tinged with sadness. "You probably don't know her." Shoto watched Ren carefully, noting the subtle shift in her expression - the way her smile remained fixed in place while her eyes softened with carefully concealed grief. Few would notice these minute changes, but to him, they spoke volumes.
"Actually," Ren said, accepting the coffee from the gentleman, "I get that a lot."
The old man shrugged good-naturedly, as though he'd guessed as much, before turning to Shoto. "You're a lucky young man."
"I know," Shoto replied simply, causing Ren to nearly drop her coffee in surprise at his directness. His quiet certainty, delivered without hesitation, made her cheeks flush pink.
"Leave them alone, Papa," Yuki called over her shoulder, earning a laugh from her father.
The morning sun caught in Ren's hair as they settled into their seats by the huge glass window, creating a halo effect that reminded Shoto of how she looked in their most private moments - those precious times when she was entirely herself, no pretence required. In these moments, the duality of her struck him anew - this girl who could command rooms full of politicians yet fell to her knees in an instant if he looked at her in the right way. Who wrote scathing critiques of hero society but believed so firmly in his dream of becoming a hero. Who could be both the untouchable media princess and the girl who had thrown stones at his window when they were children.
The pristine landscape stretched endlessly before them as they settled at their table, the glass barrier between them and the sheer drop creating an illusion of suspension above the world. The café hummed with quiet conversation and the gentle whir of the espresso machine, creating a peaceful backdrop to their private moment. They sat in silence for a few minutes, in the gentle quiet and comfort of each other.
Shoto watched Ren as she arranged her dark skirt over her knees, her back straightened to sit so perfectly in the comfortable arm chair. He noted how she unconsciously mirrored the grace of the falling snow outside. A question had been forming in his mind since their interaction at the counter; he had never realised there was something she experienced that was surprisingly similar to his own life. With his characteristic directness, he asked, "How do you feel when people compare you to her?"
He watched her freeze a little, unprepared for the question, her hands tightened around her glass of strawberry milk. "The strangers, like just now?" She glanced back toward the counter, a thoughtful look on her face. "That's actually okay. They're just reacting to what they see, you know? No expectations." A small smile played at her lips. "It's kind of nice, actually. Shows how many people still remember her fondly."
Her expression shifted almost imperceptibly, but Shoto caught it - the slight tension around her eyes, the way her fingers tightened on her cup. "It's different when it's people who knew her. The actors, directors ones who worked with her, or heroes like Midnight and All Might." She exhaled slowly. "Or my father," she said as though she really did not want to think about it. "They look at me and see this... ghost of potential. Then I open my mouth and all they get is the media critic who wants to tear down their whole world."
Shoto's brow furrowed. "You mean your articles?"
"Everything," Ren said, gesturing vaguely. "The articles, the public speeches, the constant questioning of the system. They wanted the movie star's daughter to be just like her - beautiful, charming, perfect. Instead they got..." She trailed off, looking out at the snow. "Me." Ren laughed, but there was little humour in it, she pushed a straying strand of dark hair behind her ear. "Just Ren…and apparently that is really…disappointing." She swallowed hard. "Sometimes I see it in my father's face. He married a movie star, and all he got was a troublemaker. But Shoto could not follow, Ren was so impressive to him, so utterly charming and worth talking to, worth all the trouble, how could anyone make her feel differently?
"Your work matters," Shoto said firmly.
"Maybe. But you know what's worse?" She looked up at him, her grey eyes shadowed. "I can't even talk about missing her. How much I wish I knew her. Because who am I to miss her? I'm just this walking reminder that she's gone, wearing her face like some cruel joke." Shoto stayed quiet, understanding better than most the weight of a parent's legacy, of being compared to someone you barely knew, of trying to make a name for yourself outside of their shadow. "Sometimes," Ren continued, her voice barely above a whisper, "I wonder if anyone sees me at all," she frowned at him, "not the movie star's daughter, or the media heiress, or the "anti-hero" journalist. Just... me."
"I see you," Shoto said matter-of-factly.
Ren's lips curved into a small smile. "Do you?"
"Yes." He took a sip of his coffee, completely missing the playful tone in her voice.
"What exactly do you see?" she asked quietly, leaning forward slightly, her dark hair falling in front of her face.
Shoto considered this with his usual careful deliberation. "Someone who throws stones at windows when she wants attention. Who asks too many questions. Who makes me think differently about everything." He paused. "The prettiest thing I've ever seen."
The teasing smile fell from Ren's face, replaced by genuine surprise. In all their months together, all their years of knowing each other, he had never said anything like that.
"You think I'm pretty?"
Shoto looked confused by her reaction. "Everyone thinks you're pretty."
"It's different when you say it," Ren said softly.
"Why?"
"Because you're Shoto," she said as though it explained everything. "Because you never say anything you don't mean." Her eyes searched his face. "Because I love you." Tears welled in Ren's eyes even as she smiled, blinking them away hurriedly. "Okay, that's enough character development for one morning," she said suddenly, "you're going to return to the city practically unrecognisable and then I'll be held responsible for making Shoto Todoroki feel things."
They shifted apart as Yuki approached with their breakfast, but something had fundamentally changed between them. Another wall had come down, another layer of understanding added to their connection. Outside, the snow continued to fall gently, each flake perfect in its uniqueness.
The aroma of fresh pastries filled the air as Yuki set their plates down, the steam rising to join the dance of snowflakes visible through the window. In the reflection of the glass, Ren caught sight of Shoto watching her with that intense focus she had come to cherish. Here, in this space between worlds, they had found something real - something that belonged only to them, regardless of what anyone else expected them to be.
The afternoon light cast long shadows across Hakurei's narrow streets as Ren and Shoto explored the town. Snow crunched beneath their boots, and their breath formed delicate clouds in the crisp air. The village seemed suspended in time, its traditional architecture dusted with fresh snow, small shops tucked between ancient trees. The people of the village were friendly and welcoming, greeting them both happily as they walked past, telling them where to eat dinner and which places of interest to visit.
They discovered the bookshop tucked away on a quiet corner, its windows glowing warmly. Inside, the scent of old paper and wood polish created an atmosphere of scholarly tranquility. While Shoto browsed modern hero analysis texts and old, unknown manga, Ren wandered into a section of vintage magazines and newspapers.
Twenty minutes later, Shoto found her cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by stacks of publications. Her coat lay discarded beside her, her hair tied up into a ponytail that always signalled deep concentration and focus. She pored over a decades-old editorial about the rise of hero society, a story already forming in her head. Pages and volumes spread around her in what appeared to be an organisational system only she could understand. Her grey eyes sparkled with the kind of focused intensity he recognised from when she was writing, completely lost in her own world of research and analysis.
"Ren," he said quietly, trying not to startle her as he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
She looked up, blinking as though emerging from a trance. Her eyes widened as she took in the chaos she'd created, the careful archive system of the shop completely dismantled in her enthusiasm. "Oh no," she whispered, scrambling to her feet. "I did it again, didn't I?"
The elderly shopkeeper appeared, assessing the situation with remarkable calm. Ren bowed deeply, already apologising profusely, but the woman merely smiled and pointed to where the magazines belonged. For the next fifteen minutes, Shoto watched as Ren meticulously restored order, her cheeks pink with embarrassment as she tried to remember exactly how everything had been arranged.
"You could help," she muttered as he leaned against a bookshelf, clearly amused by her predicament.
"You seem to have a system," he replied, though the real reason he did not help her was something he had only come to understand recently; the concept of "cuteness" had always seemed elusive to him, he could never recognise it. But seeing Ren's face a little pink with embarrassment, accepting her fate of having to clean up, her little pout as she picked up heavy piles of magazines, he understood it completely. Eventually he did kneel to hand her magazines, understanding that this was part of who she was - this capacity to become so absorbed in pursuing knowledge that the world around her ceased to exist.
As a thank you for helping her but punishment for only coming to her rescue at the last minute, Ren glanced around the bookshop stealthily before pushing him into a bookcase and kissing him gently. Torturously slowly, hoping to make him hate her a little for starting something they could not finish here. She pulled away, grabbed her coat, before calling out her thanks and goodbyes to the shop owner, leaving a speechless Shoto to follow after her.
He found her back on the cobbled path that took them past snow-covered pines, their branches heavy with fresh powder. Growing more confident and comfortable, Shoto placed his arm around her, his red and white hair poking from beneath his beanie and glittering in the afternoon sun as he looked down at her with an affectionate smile. Ren's grey eyes sparkled up at him, an easy, genuine smile spreading across her face.
They walked alongside a lake, the sun creating diamond-like sparkles across the icy surface, before They came upon a group of disappointed children gathered at the lake's edge. Their parents were trying to console their crying offspring; a crack had appeared in the ice where they had been skating, forcing everyone off the surface.
Ren glanced at Shoto, then at the lake, then back at him. She nudged him gently with her elbow, giving a slight nod. Understanding passed between them without words - here was a chance to help, quietly and without fanfare.
While Ren engaged the nearest parent in conversation about local winter traditions, Shoto made his way to the water's edge. But as he reached out, he realised the complexity of the task before him. Usually, his ice manifested in dramatic walls or obvious structures - this required something far more subtle. He needed to strengthen the existing ice without changing its appearance, to affect the molecular structure without creating visible evidence of his quirk.
He frowned in concentration, trying to moderate his power. The ice began to form, but too quickly, too obviously - crystalline structures rising to the surface in a way that would immediately draw attention.
Then he felt Ren's presence beside him. Without a word, she removed her glove and placed her hand against his neck. The effect was immediate - his quirk seemed to streamline, becoming more focused and precise. He had better control, more power, something more intense and controlled pulsed through him. The ice beneath the surface strengthened invisibly, layer by layer, until the entire lake was solid enough to support a small army.
A child's excited squeal pierced the air. "Look! The crack disappeared!" After a suitable interval of testing and checking, the parents declared the surface safe. Children rushed back onto the ice, their joy echoing across the water. Shoto watched them, still processing what had just happened with his quirk, but Ren had already moved away, pulling her glove back on as though nothing unusual had occurred.
As the excited children rushed back onto the ice, their laughter echoing across the frozen lake, Shoto stood and turned to Ren with questions forming on his lips about what had just happened with his quirk. Before he could speak, Ren wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply, more passionately than she ever had in public. The warmth of her lips contrasted sharply with the winter air, making his head spin.
When she pulled away, her grey eyes sparkled with an intensity that matched the surrounding snow. "I hate how much I love watching you be a hero," she admitted, her breath forming delicate clouds between them.
"You do?" Shoto asked, genuine surprise colouring his voice. The idea that Ren, with all her critiques of hero society, could find joy in his hero work seemed almost contradictory.
She nodded, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. "Even if you just rescued a kitten from a tree, I think I'd fall in love with you all over again."
Shoto's brow furrowed in that way that made Ren's heart melt. "You shouldn't put cats in trees."
Ren's laughter rang out across the lake, drawing smiles from nearby parents. She buried her face in his chest, shoulders shaking with laughter. "I love you," she whispered against his coat.
Show these kids some love with a comment, won't you?
Is it the fluff you've been waiting for?