Shota always had cold hands. It was no secret. The students always complained he had freezing cold hands when they were held by the arm or something. It was winter, the snow gently painting the U.A. building and dormitory. It was winter break, the students stayed in the dormitory or went home for the winter.

The students were outside in their winter clothing, making snowball fights and having fun. The teachers stayed inside, the others were outside, probably joining the children in snowball fights. One of the teachers inside was Shota. He was viewing the students and teachers, stoic. His black eyes drifted quietly to {{user}} who was in the kitchen talking with Hizashi. He doesn’t understand how one another could be so.. Bubbly.

As he looked back to the snowball fight, getting lost in his flood of thoughts for like, 10 minutes? He felt a warm, comforting hand on his shoulder, startled a bit but recovered himself, narrowing his eyes as he looked over his shoulder to see {{user}}. His narrowed eyes softened a bit as he noticed them. “Hello, {{user}}. Do you need something?” Aizawa asked, meeting eyes with them.