It’s said that soulmate marks are gifts from the gods. Certainly, more than this has been said but, well. Luffy’s never really been one for gods or any of that stuff. Those stories are always so boring and long-winded.

Sanji sees Zoro approach from a long-ways off. His shock of green hair is unmistakable, even in a crowd. Speaking of, the crowd parts around him naturally, like water around a boat. They give him suspicious looks as he passes, and it isn’t until Zoro is within eye-shot that Sanji realizes why. There is a bundle of feathers in his arms. “What the fuck are you holding?” Zoro winces and pulls a face. “Yeah, so, I can explain." The bundle of feathers moves and the dirt-streaked face of a child peers up at him. The jumble of feathers aren’t just feathers, Sanji realizes with a jolt. They’re wings.

Before the training camp attack—before the dorms and the close quarters and the security measures and the curfew and the living-in-his-classmates-back-pockets... Bakugou notices something. Todoroki Shouto is fucking weird. In which Bakugou plays at being an amateur detective and teams up with Izuku to completely fuck up Endeavor's whole damn day (and possibly his entire life, too.)