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Four months. It had been four months since Ochako left for America as part of a decades-old pro-hero exchange program, set up between sister cities, meant to foster new ideas and teamwork within the global hero network. She'd work with a local agency, as well as teach once a week at one of the nearby hero schools.
Ochako loved kids, and it was a great opportunity to see more of the world, learn what hero life was like outside of Japan. Her family hadn't ever vacationed much, taking only short, inexpensive weekend trips a few times a year; the program would pay for her airfare, and she'd continue to be paid her usual salary, along with the added bonus of spending time abroad like she'd always dreamed.
What she hadn't planned for, however, was how homesick she'd be. Video chatting was a god send, and she'd made friends with some of the other hero teachers and tenants in her apartment. There was always something to do in the city on weekends, but those quiet moments at home, when her ears buzzed and her body ached after a long day, when she woke up alone in her not-quite-home, that was when the weight of it all would come crashing down.
She missed her parents, her friends, and most of all she missed Izuku and Katsuki. She missed wrapping her arms around Deku's waist and resting her tired head against his back after a long day of patrolling. She missed waking up snuggled against Katsuki, to the gentle, sweet smell of his nitroglycerin.
It would only be a few more months, she'd tell herself every time she felt especially down, reminding herself of how much fun she was having in America, how invaluable her time in this program was, how much the kids loved her.
Still, on those cold nights when she slept in her little twin bed in her studio apartment, she sure did miss being in the middle of an Ochako sandwich.
°•. ✿ .•°
Christmas in America, it turned out, was a Big Deal, and indeed all the parties and gift exchanges helped Ochako forget her loneliness, at least temporarily, before she remembered again that her birthday was soon approaching and she would be spending it without her loved ones near.
And really, honestly, it wasn't that big of a deal. She was going to be 24, and birthdays were becoming less and less significant.
Still, as her phone rang incessantly throughout the day with texts and video calls from friends and family back home wishing her happy birthday, she couldn't help but notice that she hadn't yet heard from either Katsuki or Izuku.
They were probably busy, Ochako reasoned, and she'd hear from them the next day, certainly with Izuku teary-eyed and apologizing profusely for forgetting, which had actually happened two years ago, when he'd been pulling extra shifts the entire week of her birthday and passed out at his apartment before he'd had the chance to call her.
She and Katsuki had been more worried about whether or not he needed medical attention.
She'd hear from them tomorrow for sure, Ochako thought to herself as she walked home from the grocery store, hands full with bags of food for the week and a bottle of wine as a birthday treat to herself.
It was no daifuku mochi, but it would do.
It was already dark by the time she reached the entrance to her apartment building; it had automatic glass doors and the lobby was always playing soft jazz from speakers in the ceiling and Ochako felt it was far fancier a place than she deserved, but it was where the program had put her up for the entirety of her stay, so she couldn't complain (nor did she really want to).
As she crossed the street, she could see a couple people loitering outside the entrance; probably the usual tenants who stopped for a smoke before going inside, though even in the dark she couldn't see their filters glowing orange, nor was there any smoke.
Well, whatever. Salt crunched beneath her boots as she walked up the cement steps, giving a sideways glance and a half-nod to the figures half-cloaked in the December darkness.
She was almost to the glass doors when one of them spoke to her.
"Oi. Space cadet."
Ochako nearly jumped out of skin, almost dropping her bags before she whipped around to find herself face to face with a grinning Katsuki and a beaming Izuku. There were two small carry-on bags resting at Izuku's feet.
Her eyes went wide, heart thumping wildly in her chest as her thoughts ran a mile a minute. Was she dreaming? She had to be. How were they here? "Wh―what? Are you two―how? Wh―what are you doing here?"
"Well, we were comin' to surprise you for your birthday," Katsuki said with a dramatic roll of his eyes, "but if you'd rather we just fuck off―"
"Kacchan!"
"No!" Ochako let her bags float a few inches off the wet, salted ground before she ran at the both of them, wrapping her small, strong arms around their waists, with some difficulty, burying her face in their coats that smelled of jet fuel and the inside of a taxi cab.
"I just...can't believe―you came all this way to see me...on my birthday."
"We missed you," Izuku said, and Ochako could hear the smile in his voice. "It was Kacchan's idea."
"Shut up," Katsuki muttered, and Ochako could feel his gravel-deep rumble atop the crown of her head.
"We only managed to get a few days off," Izuku went on. "Sorry."
Ochako shook her head. "I don't care. I'm just so glad you're here."
This was all so surreal, and she still didn't quite believe that she wasn't dreaming. But dreams sometimes came true, right?
Ochako felt a kiss against her hair before Katsuki pulled away.
"'M freezing my ass off out here," he said, grabbing her floating bags and hurrying inside the lobby.
Once inside her apartment, Katsuki set Ochako's bags down in the kitchen, then got to work rummaging through his pack while Ochako watched on curiously. He pulled out a thin, wide box wrapped in colorful paper, and when Ochako opened it she almost cried at the sight of a dozen pink mochi nestled inside.
"I know it's not your favorite, but it's all they had at the gift shop," Katsuki said, though Ochako had barely let him finish before she tore into one of the plastic pouches and shoved the whole thing in her mouth.
"Don' care," she said around a mouthful of soft dough and sweet bean paste. "If foooo good." The mochi offerings she'd found in the city had been...acceptable, but even airport gift store mochi blew away anything she'd tried so far.
She gave them a tour of the apartment, which took all of three minutes, before she turned to Katsuki and Izuku with a warm smile.
"So. What do you wanna do now?"
"Sleep," Katsuki demanded.
"Sleep," Izuku pleaded.
Ochako spared a glance at her little twin bed in the corner of the room.
"My couch is a pull-out," she happily informed them, and when they were all three sprawled out on the thin sofa mattress with Ochako snuggled cozily in the middle, she knew there would be few moments that would top this one.
"Happy birthday, Ochako."