Chapter Text
“Look! I got Deku a gift!” Hizashi announced brightly. He held up a tiny box wrapped in red paper patterned with little snowflakes, shaking it once for emphasis. Izuku’s ears twitched as he peered at it. Hizashi carefully untied the ribbon and opened the lid, revealing a small, sleek object nestled inside.
A laser pointer.
Izuku stared at it.
…What? Izuku scoffed internally, tail flicking. As if I would ever use that—
The thought didn’t even have time to finish.
Hizashi clicked the button. A red dot appeared on the floor.
Izuku’s pupils blew wide instantly, his entire field of vision narrowing until there was only the light. His body moved before his brain could catch up—paws scrambling, claws lightly clicking against the floor as he pounced. He missed, skidding slightly, and froze, staring at his empty paws in confusion. No, he knew he didn’t get it, obviously, it was just a stupid ligh—
The light moved again.
“Oh no,” Izuku thought, horrified, as he bolted after it.
The dot zipped across the rug, darted toward the wall, bounced to the corner, and Izuku followed it, instincts completely hijacking his dignity. He leaped, spun, slid, and tried to catch it between his paws, mewling in startled frustration every time it slipped away. His tail puffed, ears pinned forward, whole body buzzing as if someone had flipped a switch inside him.
This is—this is fun!!
He chased it in tight circles, crashed gently into a pillow, launched himself again, and nearly tumbled over his own feet. Hizashi laughed so hard he had to brace a hand against the couch, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.
Across the room, Aizawa just sighed.
He sat back against the couch, eyes half-lidded as he stared down at the large bag resting by his feet. Inside were gifts that hadn’t been opened yet—too many of them, honestly. All small. All carefully wrapped. Every single one labeled Izuku in different handwriting. Some neat and precise. Some messy. Some clearly written by people who didn’t often write cards at all.
Aizawa looked from the bag back to Izuku, who was currently skidding into the corner after the elusive red dot, paws flailing as he tried to stop himself. With a tired huff, Aizawa nudged the bag farther under the table with his foot, out of the way for now.
His gaze lingered on the cat—on the way Izuku laughed in breathless little chirps, on how safe he looked, how alive.