Work Text:
Midoriya Izuku is a busy man.
The sigh he let out was lined with exhaustion, a bit dramatic in volume, as Izuku placed an ungloved hand on his shoulder blade. He rolled his arm back, happy to stretch out his stiff shoulder from within a green, clunky hero costume.
He’s come to appreciate these lapses of time, lulls of empty space that would leave him with breathing room in his day. A period where he can realign himself and kick back into action, like a sprinter’s anticipatory breath before kicking off at the crack of a gunshot.
Izuku used to dread these lags as a hero student, young and jittery and waiting for something, any action to happen. With a provisional license, he had felt like his time as a hero had been on stopwatch. The opportunities to prove himself were so limited back then, and Izuku wanted to leap for his I Am Here moment.
His moment had arrived at the end of his third year at UA, with a defeated Shigaraki at his red shoes and his shaking fist raised. The world had seen him then, every camera pointed at his direction, the cheers for the hero Deku cracking through stunned silence like lightning, as Izuku’s arm shot upwards towards a newly approaching dawn. One for All thrummed under his skin, as if it knew its century-long war finally laid to rest. It was a familiar comfort amidst the blood that had caked his green curls and had spilled from his chest.
The spirits of heroes before and now, who had struggled, killed, wept, shouldered through and died for his victory had kept Izuku on his feet, the greatest pillar. Among the destruction, daybreak ushered in a new era of peace.
The Symbol of Hope at eighteen, now nearly nineteen years old. Even now, Izuku was struggling to bear the weight his title garnered. He didn’t quite fit the mold of All Might, greenhorne and bearing a single year of pro experience under his belt. Izuku’s world was moving fast, shooting up too fast , the carefree air of his school days nothing but an unattainable memory left behind as he broke the stratosphere. Toshinori couldn’t have prepared him for this.
Izuku finishes his stretch, dissatisfied with spending his breaktime mulling over the anxieties of tomorrow. He gently slaps both of his cheeks as though to ward away the weakness. Take it one day at a time. Right.
In the privacy of a secluded night street, he pulls out his phone. A bright lockscreen highlights the contours of his face, and the smile on Izuku’s face grows.
It’s him and Kacchan at USJ (the real Universal Studios Japan, mind you), green curls pressed into the crook of Katsuki’s neck, the blond’s face light with a very, very rare smile in public. The outlines of the rest of Class 3-A aren’t too far behind, lively and framed by a candy-colored backdrop. Their senior trip.
It was the last time he had seen Class 3-A together, so lightweight and untroubled, months before his debut. Mere weeks before the League had made that first decisive move, the beginning of the end.
Unbothered by the cracks that web across the front, Izuku checks his texts.
Kacchan
Hey.
Did you clock out yet?
Deku
????
No? Its 9 minutes before 11. My shifts technically not done yet
Kacchan
I swear you act like you’ve never broken a rule in your life, you fucking liar.
It wouldn’t kill your agency to leave early for once.
I already let myself in and started preparing dinner at your place.
You’d better be home on time. Do I need to remind you that it’s your birthday?
Izuku snorts, bringing a hand up to pull his mouth guard down before snarking a reply.
Deku
Yeah, thanks for letting me know
Along with like,
Every other person I interacted with today
Im pretty sure a villain today told me to have a happy birthday before trying to punch me in the nose?
Kacchan
Don’t try and get fucking smart with me.
I know how much of a workaholic you can be.
Aizawa and Yamada both left you a ten minute voicemail on the homeline earlier, courtesy of Eri.
So look forward to that to come home to, not that my stellar fucking cooking isn’t enough incentive.
Even though everyone at 3A was too busy to stop by tonight, they left a shitton of voicemails too. So you’d better hurry so I don’t have to listen to the phone ring every ten minutes.
Deku
Dont act like you dont want to know how everyone else is doing :P
Kacchan
The class group chat is already enough. With the way Mina and Kaminari flood the chat it’s like we never fucking graduated.
Deku
But hearing everyones voice is different!
Do you think it would be too late then to give each person a call?
Kacchan
If you get back on time, maybe not.
Deku
Okay okay, got the message loud and clear! I will try my best!
Kacchan
Seriously, Deku. I know how you are.
Deku
Bye Kacchan!
See you in a bit, love you :)
Izuku laughs to himself as he watches the ‘Kacchan is typing...’ appear and disappear, as though the blond was typing and erasing the message over and over. He finally settles for a short and sweet text.
Kacchan
Love you too.
Satisfied, Izuku brings his mouth guard back up from his chin, tucking the phone neatly back into his belt.
After years in high school pining over each other, fighting and reconciling and becoming true, actual rivals, Izuku still wasn’t used to this. They were the Wonder Duo, always neck at neck, challenging and motivating each other. Like everything else in Izuku’s life, the slow crawl that was the growth of their rocky relationship suddenly burst forward in leaps and bounds. Izuku had never been able to remember his life without Kacchan, so it only made sense to ensure that he wouldn’t waste a minute of his future being without him either.
He supposes the almost end of the world and the near loss of each other expedited that.
The fact that Class 3-A couldn’t share his birthday with him like they had for the past three years was bittersweet. It made sense that everyone who had taken part in the last stand against the League was busier, more in demand and growing into the great heroes he always knew they were capable of being.
Busy meant successful, and of course Izuku would wish them nothing but the best.
A cry for help brings his break to a screeching halt. Izuku steps back out into the luminescence of streetlights, the warmth of full-cowling branching out from the core of his body to the tips of his fingers. Murmurs of ‘Deku-san!’ and ‘Ganbatte, Deku!’ are in the wind at his back as he bounds forward, phone long forgotten in his pocket.
~
The incident is practically over as soon as Izuku touches down.
The villain was in for one hell of a surprise when Izuku landed in front of him, a built powerhouse of green electricity and pure intimidation. The villain’s speed quirk held no competition to One for All. Izuku had apprehended the purse-snatcher easily, so it should’ve been a quick situation.
Except the incident just so happened to be in the busiest street of Musutafu. And a late night news crew just so happened to be nearby too. Everyone who knew him well enough knew that trouble seemed to gravitate to Izuku like a magnet, but this... this was too much.
Izuku stood rigid, immediately taking on his there are cameras being pointed at me face. He bounced the toddler reaching for his curls from his elbow— the child of the purse owner handed to him. In the sea of fans he craned his arm to sign another autograph. Izuku’s phone buzzed at his side angrily, no doubt Katsuki giving him a piece of his mind.
This was really too much.
A lifetime ago the magnitude of chatter would have been absolutely overwhelming to the shy Midoriya Izuku. But to hero Deku, this was just as essential of a job as pulling civilians from crumpling buildings was.
He was once that shy fanboy, hanging onto All Might’s every word. He couldn’t find it in his heart to say no to a fan. Or twenty.
“Deku!” A news reporter squeaks, squeezing past the pack of high schoolers trying to take selfies with him. “What kind of birthday plans do you have for the night?”
“Just a simple dinner with a friend is all!” Izuku says, trying to juggle the toddler now grabbing at his nose.
“A friend? Does that friend happen to be Ground Zero?” A mischievous glint reaches the reporter’s eye, and Izuku fidgets.
“You’ve been sighted a lot together since your debut! What do you have to say for your fans who think this is surely blossoming lov—“
“A-Alright! I think it’s getting a bit late,” His phone vibrates like it agrees, Izuku prying the giggling child from his face. He’s pretty sure Katsuki would stop cooking whatever godly meal was waiting for him at home to personally beat his ass for outing their newly-developed relationship. “Thank you all for the birthday wishes! Bye-bye!”
The crowd waves and shouts their final “Happy Birthday”s as Izuku hops away, fingers flying to punch in his passcode. The wall of notifications that greet him only make him bound home faster.
Kacchan
Hey. It’s finally “after” now, nerd. Did you clock out yet?
Deku? I’m going to assume you’re on your way back now.
Kacchan
Deku.
Your shift isn’t that far from home. Don’t tell me you’ve started slacking on your speed.
Deku.
I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt here.
Kacchan
WAIT A FUCKING MINUTE
HEY
IS THAT YOU ON FUCKING TV?
IT’S LIVE FOOTAGE. YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE.
I SWEAR I'M GOING TO GO DOWN THERE AND DRAG YOU HERE MYSELF
LITERALLY THE FUCKING NEWS
IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY. STOP BEING SO NICE AND TELL THEM TO FUCK OFF
GET OUT OF THERE DEKU
my names kacchan and i get really pissy and annoying when i miss my boyfriensdlfkjdsldf
Kacchan
SHIT
I
DID NOT WRITE THAT
I MEAN
JUST COME HOME ALREADY.
Izuku skims the wall of very confusing text, finally at his front door. A single dim light is on inside, his usually bright household washed over in darkness. His house is big, more massive than anything he ever owned growing up or knew what to do with.
His head runs through the lines of his best apology to Katsuki (because this surely isn’t the first nor will be the last time he will stay out overtime) before he unlocks his door and opens it.
The chorus of loud, chipper voices nearly startle him out of his skin.
“Surprise!” The former Class 3-A yells in unison, air crackling with the energy of party poppers and cheap plastic birthday horns.
“E-Everyone!?” Izuku’s mouth is gaping like a fish, his eyes darting across his unusually crowded living room. The pristine room was adorned in an array of candy-colors and confetti, a contrast to the typically empty space he occupied. His classmates were scattered about, lounging on his couch and leaning on his kitchen counter.
A wide banner reached across the high ceiling, the words “Happy 19th Birthday Deku” colored in green marker. Izuku had no doubt Uraraka had helped put that up.
The girl in question is still sporting her hero costume as she leans forward, fitting a bright silver birthday hat over Izuku’s curls. “Happy birthday, Deku-kun! We’re glad you finally made it!”
“Finally? You mean, you guys planned this out?” Izuku sputters. Uraraka takes him by the hand, leading him to his own couch and sitting him down besides Iida. “But-- everyone’s busy schedules, I thought-- how...”
“A lot of overtime and negotiating time off.” Shinsou mutters from his seat beside Kaminari, the underground hero looking odd to Izuku without his voice modifier and capture weapon. “Honestly, it was a damn miracle we were able to make it to your house without leading any paparazzi here.”
“It was a lot of organizing.” Tsuyu stands besides Uraraka, signature goggles still situated on her head. “Ochako and I just so happened to finish our shifts around now, but everyone else didn’t have it easy. You can thank Bakugou for organizing the time with everyone.”
“Kacchan?” Izuku’s eyes wander to the kitchen counter, where Katsuki was shooing away a laughing Kirishima and Mina from an unfinished platter of stir-fry. “He really went through the trouble to do all of that?”
“He practically bugged me everyday to put in my time off for your birthday.” Kaminari says. “If I didn’t eventually do it, Bakugou would’ve probably marched into my agency and punched in the time himself.”
“You should’ve seen the way he was raging at the TV before!” Hagakure chimes in, the sparkly birthday hat atop her head the only indicator of her presence. “He was all like ‘Grrrr! Why isn’t my Deku home already enjoying this awesome surprise party I organized for him?’ It was... kind of endearing.”
"Endearing?" Kaminari rolls his eyes to Hagakure's giggling. "The guy nearly blew my head off when I took his phone from him."
"Really, really!" Uraraka teases, leaning besides his head. "Having all of us crowding your couch, watching you sign autographs and hold babies while your own surprise party was waiting at home-- You're too cruel Deku-kun!
“It’s been a long time since we’ve all congregated like this.” Iida says. “Bakugou mentioned how much you’ve missed that since our fight against the League. I’m glad he worked so diligently to make your wish come true.”
A genuine smile blooms from Izuku’s face, not blighted or rigid for any camera or critic. Here, talking amongst friends that he had fought together with, nearly died together with, Izuku is able to shed his title as the Symbol of Hope. There’s no danger, no expectations. It’s just Izuku and his friends, bantering and reminiscing just as they would in the bright courtyards of UA High.
Katsuki eventually occupies the other empty seat besides Izuku, nudging him with a fist to the shoulder. The party is in full swing, their soft words drowned out by the whirlwind of overlapping conversations.
“You were late, asshole.” Katsuki says, no bite in his words.
Izuku wrings his hands together, sheepish. “I’m sorry. I should’ve left as soon as the villain was dealt with.”
“Damn right you should have.” Katsuki grumbles. “You may be the Symbol of Hope, but at the end of the day you’re still fuckin’ human. It’s not your job to work yourself to the bone, especially on your birthday when things like this are waiting for you at home.”
“You mean your ‘stellar fucking cooking’?”
“You know exactly what I mean, smartass.”
Izuku allows himself to fall back, head sinking into a plush cushion. He takes in the scene before him, Bakugou’s efforts. He watches Aoyama and Kirishima cheer excitedly as Jirou finishes setting up what appears to be a karaoke machine, Yaoyorozu materializing a microphone with an excited glint in her eyes.
Izuku grins. “Yep. I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect birthday party.”
“Hell yeah. If I’m planning the party then you’d damn well bet that it’s going to be perfect.” Katsuki smirks, raising his chin high.
“Yeah right! You couldn’t even make sure the most important person of the hour came on time!” Mina chirps, startling Katsuki.
“Guess we know who wears the pants in the relationship.” Todoroki says aloud, hand raised to his chin in thought.
“Oi!” Katsuki grips the back of the chair, Mina squealing and playfully hiding behind Kirishima. “I’ll kill you, Raccoon Eyes!” He whips his head around Todoroki, who barely even blinks at Katsuki’s yell. “Don’t think you’re off the hook either, Half-n'-Half Bastard!”
Laughter bubbles deep within Izuku, first small and quiet. Like the opening of floodgates it pours out of him, stress and anxiety detaching itself from his weary limbs and escaping from his mouth. Freckles scrunch up on Izuku’s face, the man bringing a hand to wipe the trickles of tears that formed from merely laughing so hard.
He was another year older, the world moving so fast, but in these moments everything was just slow and happy and good . As much as things changed, he always had his friends behind him, to confide in and to cheer him on during these lulls. So he could raise his head, smile, and kick off once more.
He was so blessed.
“Oi. You haven’t gone crazy on me, have you? You're not that old yet.” Katsuki says, poking his side with an elbow.
Izuku beams, feeling as though a massive weight had just spilled from his body and dissipated into the air. “No-- no, I haven’t! I haven’t!”
“I’m just... really happy. Things are exactly how they should be.”