I need to stop tempting fate, Uryuu thinks faintly while staring up at Getsuga in blank acceptance.

She’s looming over him, her long neck arched and her head tilted in curiosity, examining him like a cat examines a new toy. He’s never been so close to a wyvern before. Never truly appreciated how large they are before now. Standing on her hind legs as she is, she’s twice his height and built like a mountain, dangerous and implacable. Her wings are folded loosely, the clawed paws on her wing-arms poised to strike and more than large enough to crush his head without trouble.

She’s breathtaking. This close, her plain black hide has undertones of midnight blue and deep violet. This close, he can see the way her black horns gleam like blackened steel and the way her claws and wing-claws shine like silver. Her eyes are a piercing cyan and the level of intelligence in them is beyond everything he expected to see.

Shiro stands at her shoulder, magic clinging to his fingers and body tense as he watches their stand-off. He had caught Uryuu after morning practice and teased him aside, leading him to a quiet corner of the Flight Field with promises of something special. And the moment they’d been alone, Shiro brought his fingers to his lips and whistled…

Getsuga had thundered down from the sky, landing with a thump that Uryuu felt in his bones, and immediately turned to fix him with a deadly look.

If this is how he dies, Uryuu thinks he might be alright with it.

(She’s beautiful.)

She growls and crouches closer, muzzle coming inches from his head as she investigates him closer. He’s already lasted longer than most people Shiro introduces her to; rumors around the castle are that Getsuga is Shiro’s final test for friendship. Rumors around the castle are that most people fail.

Uryuu takes a breath and stands firm, meeting her narrowed gaze and refusing to back down. His mind is still and his body feels frozen, but that’s alright.

(Shiro will protect him.)

Getsuga snorts and shoves her muzzle against his chest, sniffing at him and then the scarf — Shiro’s scarf — that’s wrapped around his neck. She’s scenting him, curious as a cat, her threatening posture beginning to ease off at last.

Before he can censor the thought, his hand comes up to pat the side of her head. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs as she twitches back and narrows her eyes at him.

Muffled laughter draws Uryuu’s attention away from Getsuga and to Shiro, who’s standing with a hand over his mouth and his shoulders shaking. “She is, ain’t she,” he said through his laughter, stepping away from Getsuga’s shoulder and approaching Uryuu. “Ya like ‘er?”

Uryuu gives Shiro a dry look and then glances up at Getsuga as she rises back to her full height. “She’s a sight to behold,” he agrees, before licking his lips — be bold — and continuing, “though I’d have appreciated a bit of warning.”

“Eh,” Shiro wriggles a hand in a so-so motion, “You’d’a jes been all tense iffen I had. S’better this way.”

‘Better for who’ Uryuu wants to ask but doesn’t. He takes a moment to admire her again — and to admire his continued uninjured existence — before asking, “Are all wyverns so…” The words die in his throat as he gestures awkwardly at Getsuga, unable to decide what he wants to ask first.

(He’s never had a chance to ask.)

“Big?” Shiro finishes with a grin. “Sorta? Getsuga’s larger’n most, but she ain’t th’largest even ‘mongst the Aerial Knights. Y’wanna see what it’s like from ‘er back?”

“I would,” he answers immediately, looking between Getsuga and Shiro; he doubts Shiro is asking at random. There’s something here that he’s missing, some test that he’s being given that he doesn’t understand. Being introduced to Getsuga makes some sense in context, but Shiro offering to take him up on Getsuga’s back?

Only his brothers have ever flown with him as far as Uryuu is aware.

Shiro’s grin widens and he darts away, calling out, “A’right! C’mon girl, let’s getcha kitted out!”

Getsuga remains in place, staring down at Uryuu with narrowed eyes. Uryuu meets her stare for stare until she harrumphs and turns away, stalking after Shiro. She settles on all fours next to the fence, bringing her shoulders within reach, and Shiro sets to work.

Uryuu drifts closer, watching Shiro sling her saddle up and over the base of her neck. It’s larger than he expected, extending over her shoulders and a small way down her back, with heavy straps dangling down. Shiro makes quick work of them, buckling and tying and tightening in turn until the whole contraption is in place.

She grumbles and pulls away, flexing her wings and twisting her neck around to peer at her back.

“All good, girl?” Shiro asks, grinning at the disgruntled look she shoots him in response. “I ain’t takin’ Ishida-san up wit’out a saddle, so y’can pack away th’unhappy looks.”

“You… ride her without a saddle?” Uryuu knows his liege is a daredevil, but to fly without a saddle…?

“Why not? She won’t let me fall.” Shiro shrugs and holds out a simple bridle to Getsuga. She leans in and opens her mouth, letting him slide the thin metal bit into place at the back of her mouth then holding still as he buckles the bridle in place around her horns. “Tha’s a girl. So, y’ready t’fly, Ishida-san?”

“Yes.”

Shiro flashes him a bright grin and tosses Getsuga’s reins over her head, then climbs the fence and drops into her saddle. He leans over and reaches down, offering his hand to Uryuu.

Uryuu steps closer and reaches up, clasping Shiro’s hand and trying to ignore the way Getsuga’s sharp eyes are watching his every move. She’s accepted him for now, but he has no doubt that acceptance is conditional; if he does anything she doesn’t approve of he’ll lose that acceptance in a flurry of violence and pain.

(That’s alright. Most of the ways he could lose her acceptance involve hurting Shiro.)

(He never intends to do that.)

Shiro hauls him up and into the saddle in one smooth motion. “Tuck yer legs in— yeh, jes like tha’. Don’t be ‘fraid t’hold onta me iffen y’need ta. Ready?”

Uryuu licks his lips and awkwardly lets his hands rest on Shiro’s waist for lack of anywhere else to place them. “Ready.”

The saddle is uncomfortable, just a thin pad draped across Getsuga’s hard back; it’s a leisure saddle, not built for war, and lacks many of the things Uryuu /expects/ out of the saddle. Shiro has no stirrups and there is no raised cantle or any major padding between them and Getsuga. Even worse, his position behind Shiro leaves him with few places to put his legs that aren’t in Getsuga’s way.

But his discomfort is quickly forgotten as Getsuga rises up and spreads her wings. She crouches, muscles tensing, and then leaps…

The ground falls away, figures and buildings dwindling to specks.

It’s been so long since he’s seen the world from above.

(He missed it. He missed it and he never realized.)

“Beautiful,” Uryuu murmurs, leaning against Shiro’s back and watching the world below.

(If nothing else, he’ll treasure this moment as long as he lives.)