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When the class look back, they’ll eventually realise it started with a maths worksheet. So really, the ultimate blame lies with Ectoplasm for trying to be the “cool” teacher and setting weird, vaguely Christmas themed homework, instead of the usual brain-meltingly difficult sums he prefers. Maybe he was trying to be nice for once.
“Considering the concept of tetrahedral numbers, in the traditional Western Christmas carol The Twelve Days of Christmas, how many gifts were sent by your true love?” Uraraka squints at the page again. “Huh? Why’s he asking about Western music? I don’t know that song.”
“Probably Present Mic’s fault,” Midoriya suggests. “He’s been playing carols in English all week on his show. Maybe we’re meant to be practising our English comprehension at the same time?”
Todoroki is already tapping away at his phone. “I found the words,” he says, and reads aloud in slow, careful English. “On the first day of Christmas, my true love sent to me a partridge in a pear tree. On the second day of Christmas, my true love sent to me two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree. On the third day-”
“There are multiple Christmases?” Uraraka exclaims, leaning over his shoulder. “Why are there so many extra days? We only get one!”
Todoroki ignores her, and continues reading. “On the third day of Christmas, my true love sent to me three French hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree. On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree.”
“Okay, so it’s the normal pattern for tetrahedrals,” Midoriya says quickly. “Does the last verse start with twelve, Todoroki?”
There’s a moment’s silence as Todoroki scrolls. Then: “Yes. Twelve drummers drumming, eleven pipers piping, ten lords a-leaping…”
“So it’s the twelfth tetrahedral number,” Midoriya says before Todoroki has to read off the entire list. “We can just use the formula, we don’t have to count.”
“Can we use calculators for this?” Uraraka asks after a moment. “I don’t exactly know what twelve times thirteen times fourteen is off the top of my head.”
“Twelve times thirteen is one hundred and fifty six,” Iida says immediately, then pauses. “Ah. I might need some paper to work out one hundred and fifty six multiplied by fourteen.”
Todoroki, still looking at his phone, slides over the stack of scrap paper they’ve been using for exactly this purpose. “Why pear trees, ” he mutters, tapping something. “They’re not in season in December anywhere. And what’s the partridge got to do with anything?”
“Done!” Uraraka crows a moment later, putting her pen down. “That’s all our homework, finished before the holidays! Thanks, guys.”
Little does she know that it is only the beginning.
~
The first clue that anyone has that something is a bit strange is when Kirishima comes downstairs one morning looking very puzzled and instead of heading for Todoroki, who is in the kitchen making tamagoyaki with Midoriya, goes straight over to Shouji. “Hey man, have you seen Kouda today?”
The taller young man shakes his head and forms a mouth on his closest arm. “Not since last night. He’s probably still in his room.”
“I checked,” Kirishima sighs. “Maybe he’s outside.”
“What’s up, Kiri?” Kaminari calls from the other sofa where he’s watching Sero and Mina clash viciously in Smash Brothers.
“Oh, there’s a bird in my room,” Kirishima says. “I tried to open the window but it won’t fly out.”
“Weird,” Kaminari says. “How’d it get in?”
“That’s the weirdest bit,” Kirishima explains as he trots over to the shoe rack. “I opened my door and there was a tree outside it, in a pot. I figured it was going to be in the way so I brought it into my room, and then this bird popped out of it and started flying around! Okay, see you guys in a bit – if you see Kouda, tell him I’m looking for him?”
“Well, that was weird,” Midoriya says to Todoroki, who is completely distracted watching Kirishima bend over to put his shoes on. “Hey! Don’t burn the tamagoyaki, Kacchan will kill you!”
~
The next morning, Kirishima is late to breakfast, which is also weird. He looks very flustered when he finally flops down next to Todoroki, who immediately transfers several pieces of bacon onto his plate. “Three birds,” he says. “And another tree! I mean, it’s a really nice tree, it matches the other one, but someone needs to let the suppliers know that there are birds nesting in them. It took me ages to get them out.” He crams the bacon into his mouth and leans a bit sideways to knock his arm into Todoroki’s in lieu of thanking him aloud. “Iffs shoo eeerd.” Bakugou, on the other side of the table, gives him a disgusted look that is either for the poor table manners or the open affection with his boyfriend, and Kirishima grins at him before swallowing. “It’s so weird. Most places have to get special licenses to handle birds. I wonder what happened. I hope they weren’t illegally imported or something, I don’t want to get in trouble.”
“I’m sure it will be fine,” Iida tells him. “They were unannounced gifts with no receipt or indication as to who gave them, correct? So if there is something wrong, we can all vouch that you were blameless. They’ll be able to find out who sent them to you and check with them whether they have the right licenses, don’t worry.”
Kirishima nods, briefly distracted from his worries by Todoroki offering him a slice of toast. He chews it thoughtfully. “I’ll check the tree properly later,” he says eventually. “Maybe there’s a note I missed or something?” Todoroki frowns, but Kirishima just kisses his temple and stands up. “Anyway, I should go make sure Kouda’s okay with the birds. See you guys later.”
~
By the third morning, things are getting really strange. It’s Bakugou who finds the third tree, along with its six inhabitants, and his roar of shock as several of them fly into his face when he opens his door wakes most of his corridor as well as the one above and below. On the plus side, it means there’s more people to help catch said birds as they flutter frantically around the corridor while Kirishima wrestles his new tree into his room. On the down side, it means a good half of the class end up covered in feathers and scratches. Kouda, more in demand than he has been since the business course decided to have a petting zoo for the cultural festival and someone forgot to secure the gate, soothes ruffled feathers of every sort, and shoos the birds outside, where three of them join the previous four in the nearby trees while the remaining three scratch around at the roots, apparently looking for food.
“They’ll be fine, right?” Kirishima asks Kouda, who nods. “I mean, I wasn’t expecting to get them, but I feel like it's deliberate now, like they're meant to be part of the gift and they weren't just nesting in the tree and no-one noticed? So I should make sure they’re being looked after, even if that’s not by me.”
Kouda reassures him quietly that the birds are much happier in the big trees out on campus than the suitable-for-a-school-dorm ones that now adorn Kirishima’s room.
“I just wish I knew where they were coming from,” Kirishima sighs. “I mean, who thought giving me birds was a good idea? I don’t know anything about birds! I barely know anything about plants, but I’ve got three trees to look after now! I’ll ask Tetsutetsu to talk to Shiozaki, maybe she’ll know what sort they are…”
~
On the fourth morning, Todoroki apparently tries to lay a remote trap to catch the gift-giver, because when Kirishima emerges from his room the fourth tree is surrounded by a bubble of ice. Inside it, ten birds are flapping around, unable to cause chaos in the corridor, but are obviously not accompanied by any bird-keeper. Rather than bother Kouda yet again, Kirishima traipses down the stairs and finds Midoriya and Uraraka in the kitchen, on breakfast-making duty.
“There’s more,” he groans in lieu of a greeting, and both of them turn to him with mixed expressions of confusion and pity. “Help?”
It’s so rare for Kirishima to directly ask for help that Midoriya and Uraraka immediately drop what they’re doing and follow him back up to his room, where two of the birds have already managed to escape from the rapidly-melting ice sphere. Midoriya tips out Kirishima’s washing basket and traps most of the birds under it, while Uraraka uses her Quirk to send the waste paper bin after the black bird that is trying to hide behind Kirishima’s curtain.
All animals contained, Kirishima slumps down on his chair and drops his head into one hand. “I don’t understand what’s happening. First one, then three, then six, now ten! I don’t get it, why are there more every day?”
Suddenly, Midoriya’s eyes narrow. “Wait, what did you say?”
Kirishima looks up at him. “There was one bird in the tree on the first day. Then there were three the next day, then six, and today there’s ten!”
“One, three, six, ten,” Uraraka mutters. “That… Deku, why does that sound familiar?”
“Hang on,” Midoriya says slowly. “Kirishima, what sort of birds did you say they were?”
Kirishima shrugs. “I don’t know for most of them,” he says. “But six of them were chickens. Three yesterday and three today.”
But Midoriya is staring at the trees, his face gradually becoming horrified. “Not chickens, Kirishima. They’re hens. French hens.”
“Huh?”
“Kirishima. These are pear trees.”
Kirishima shakes his head, still clearly confused. “So? It’s really cool that you can identify them like that, was it by the leaves or something? But I don’t care what sort of trees they are really, except to make sure I’m looking after them properly.”
“Oh, it’s the song!” Uraraka gasps. “Kiri, did you do the maths homework yet?”
“N...nooo?” Kirishima sounds slightly conflicted. “I was going to do it on Friday?”
“There’s a song in the maths homework,” Midoriya says as quickly as he can. “Four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree. The other birds you got – they were partridges, turtle doves and… uh, whatever a calling bird is, I guess.”
“Okaaaaaaay.” Kirishima doesn’t look convinced. “But where are they coming from?”
Midoriya has the expression that means he’s finally found the last piece of the puzzle. “Uraraka. Remember how the first line of the song goes?”
“On the day of Christmas my two loves spent on me?” she asks, her English a bit fuzzy. Midoriya shakes his head.
“Not two loves, Uraraka. True love.”
She stares at him. Then, very suddenly, her face clears into something vaguely resembling horror. “No. No, he wouldn’t.”
Midoriya looks pained. “He’s very rich. And he loves Kirishima an awful lot, and he does like traditional things so if he thought this was a real tradition…”
“What on earth are you talking about?” Kirishima demands, looking deeply concerned. “Is this about – wait, is this about Shouto?”
Midoriya winces. “Uh… I think he’s trying to give you gifts to prove he’s your true love?” he says awkwardly. “You should probably expect more birds tomorrow. And five rings.”
Uraraka is quickly tapping at her phone, looking up the lyrics. “Oh… oh no. Deku, we have to stop him before he buys Kirishima people. He can’t do that, that’s illegal. And where would they – they’ll have cows. Deku, come on, we need to stop him, quick.”
“Stop who? ” Kirishima asks, looking from one to another. “Please just tell me?”
Midoriya takes a deep breath. “There’s a song,” he says. “It’s about sending Christmas presents to your true love, and there's lots of versions but the one in the homework was mostly birds, but then there’s also people, and rings, and all sorts of things, and I think Todoroki’s been trying to send you the presents in order so that you know how he feels about you but it’s not actually a thing, it’s just a song and – oh no, if he gets to the swans he’s going to have to get them a pond and swans are vicious when they’re angry, and there’s geese too.”
“The birds are from Shouto?” Kirishima asks, obviously still a couple of steps behind Midoriya’s jumbled explanation. “And the trees?”
“Yes, they’re from him too,” Uraraka says. “Just – we’ll talk to him, okay? You’ll stop getting birds in your room.”
“He’s getting me -” Kirishima pauses. “Uh… lots of birds?”
“He’s getting you three hundred and sixty four gifts, if we don’t stop him,” Uraraka says grimly, remembering the final number from the homework. “And that’s not counting the cows separately, or the trees.”
“That’s one for every day of the year!” Kirishima squeaks. “He doesn’t need to do that!”
“Doesn’t need to do what?” Todoroki asks from the door, apparently drawn by the noise. “Good morning, Eijirou.”
“Todoroki,” Midoriya says before Kirishima can return the greeting. “Are the birds from you?”
“Yes,” Todoroki says, looking rather surprised. “I… thought that was obvious?”
“Because you’re his true love,” Uraraka says, though it’s slightly more of a question than a statement. “Oh Todoroki.”
“It’s traditional, ” Todoroki says stubbornly. “Mr. Ectoplasm’s homework said so.”
“It’s a song, ” Midoriya’s voice tilts into something resembling a wail, though that might be because one of the birds-recently-identified-as-a-turtle-dove has just wriggled out from under the washing basket. “It’s not a real tradition, Todoroki, it’s just a song people sing because it’s fun to try and remember all the list in order. You don’t have to get all the things in the song just because you like someone!”
Todoroki blinks, looking genuinely surprised. “Really?” He frowns. “I… thought perhaps it was a Western tradition that we didn’t have. I liked the idea of having lots of days to give presents on. And it was good that there was a list of things too, it’s always easier getting presents when you know what to get.”
Uraraka dives for one of the hens, which is also making a break for it. “You are so cute, ” she says, sprawled on the floor with a squawking bundle of feathers in her arms. “Kiri, you’re the luckiest man on the planet and if you ever make Todoroki upset you will be the luckiest man off the planet because I will launch you into the sun.”
Todoroki and Kirishima exchange alarmed glances at the sudden threat of extreme violence, but Uraraka just stands up and tucks the hen under her arm. “C’mon, Deku. Let’s get these birds out of Kiri’s room.”
“Should I… cancel all the other things?” Todoroki asks Midoriya, slightly hesitantly. Midoriya nods vigorously, preoccupied with gathering the four – calling birds? - into the washing basket and throwing a blanket over to keep them inside.
“Yes,” Uraraka says firmly. “Especially the swans. And the geese. We do not want those in the dorms.” One of the hens pecks her on the hand and she swears. “These are bad enough. Deku, want me to use my Quirk on that?”
“Nah, it’s really light,” Midoriya says, hefting the basket into his arms. “They’re just trying to escape, it’ll be fine once we’re outside. Let’s go.”
Moments later, the room seems much emptier, which is surprising given how much room the four pear trees are taking up, set in a row at the foot of Kirishima’s bed.
“Were you really going to get me milkmaids and pipers and drummers and stuff?” Kirishima asks after a pause. Todoroki looks rather awkward.
“I couldn’t find a way to hire them at short notice,” he admits. “I was trying, but even my dad’s card has limits, and most places don’t hire out milkmaids and cows. Or lords.” He brightens up. “I did manage to get tickets to a steel band concert for the last day, that was the closest I could get to twelve drummers. Though… I guess I should cancel them too.” He subsides again, but meets Kirishima’s eyes squarely. “I’m really sorry. I asked Aoyama if it was a real tradition, but now I think about it he might have thought I was asking him if it was a real song. I didn’t know. And I’m also sorry you had to deal with all the birds.”
“Don’t worry about it, man” Kirishima says, taking Todoroki’s hand and swinging it gently. “And hey, don’t cancel the steel band, I like steel bands. We’ll go together, call it a New Year’s date.” He squeezes Todoroki’s fingers between his, their private code for reassuring each other that things are okay. “Get me a book on how to look after pear trees and we’ll call it quits.”
“I could just get you a gardener,” Todoroki points out.
“No,” Kirishima says. “No getting me people for presents, Shou, that’s not… no.” He runs his thumb along Todoroki’s knuckles. “I want to look after the things you give me. And you got me four, so I’ve got at least four shots at doing it right.”
“There’s another one coming tomorrow,” Todoroki admits. “I can’t cancel it at that short notice. But I can cancel the birds at least.”
“Five trees! Yeah, I can look after five trees! And then when we move out of the dorms they’ll be really big and strong so they’ll have to knock the dorms down just to get them out in one piece.”
“And we’ll plant them in our garden,” Todoroki adds, before continuing rather cheekily, "and get a gardener to look after them."
“Our garden,” Kirishima says, sounding delighted. “Yeah. Yeah. We’re gonna have a garden.”
~
Outside on the balcony, unseen by the occupants, two turtle-doves settle on the railing. They lean close, cooing softly to one another, and after a few minutes of quiet, take off into the wide, winter-blue sky, together.