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1
The first birthday Keigo can remember is one of the few truly happy memories of his childhood.
It was his fourth birthday, at least that was what his mother told him when he asked why she let him sleep in, which was highly unusual for him.
She promised him that she would do the best she could to make today a good birthday, because birthdays are special.
That was news to Keigo.
But he did understand that today had potential, especially considering the fact that his father was nowhere to be seen, which probably meant he was away doing some scary work for some scary people.
After Keigo made himself some cereal, his mom helped him get dressed in his least raggedy clothes, and did her best at trying to brush his hair, which didn't do much, but it made his tiny wings flutter with affection, and his throat chirp as a quiet 'thank you'.
When they get into town, his mom lets him go and look in all the windows he wants, his wings fluttering and eyes beaming at all the shiny things in the displays.
Then they go to the food market that has a lot of free samples, and just as Keigo almost starts feeling full, his mother quietly tells an ice cream vendor that it's his birthday, and he gets a whole scoop for free.
He can hardly believe that this day is real.
Just as they are starting on the long walk out of town and back home, they pass this little store with a bunch of discount items out front, and there he saw it;
The Endeavor plushie.
His hero, right here, in a tiny, holdable size.
Keigo didn't have to say anything, for once his mother noticed something.
She quietly told him to wait here, went inside the store, and when she came back out, she didn't seem to have bought anything, so Keigo didn't ask.
Keigo didn't think anymore of it until has was about to go to sleep, and his mom discreetly pushed the little plush into his arms and gave him a little kiss on the forehead.
Keigo couldn't believe it.
His mothered had wandered off before he had snapped out of it, but he knew she understood.
She got quiet when she was feeling a lot, too.
Keigo had trouble falling asleep that night, because he didn't want to close his eyes and take his eyes of his new possession, and wake up to find this day had all been a dream.
2
When Keigo turns 18, he is thrown out into the world like a baby bird about to take its first flight.
Except he's been flying for years.
And he is as far from being free as ever.
But what he does have, is his own agency.
And a fresh, new Hero career to dive head first into.
So, at the night of his eighteenth birthday, Keigo was not out celebrating with friends. In fact, he didn't have any friends.
He had been doing prepping work at his agency the whole day, and when he finally landed on the balcony of his brand new penthouse apartment, courtesy of the Commission, he was ready to hit the hay.
As his hand felt around the still unfamiliar wall for the light switch, and then found it, he realized there was a package left for him at the kitchen island.
A childish part of him thought maybe his mother had reached out to the Commission to send him something, but that idea quickly died as he flipped the card over.
Just some standard shit from the Commission.
Of course.
However, as he tore the paper off the package with this talons, he was actually taken aback with its content.
A small plushie, eerily similar to the one on his nightstand, but in stead of Endeavor, it was... him?
When he found the little note informing him this was the first, official merch made for him;
Wing Hero Hawks.
It felt oddly symbolic, the whole thing, and he hated himself for feeling like that.
He there the plushie in the nightstand drawer and tried not to think anymore of it.
3
Keigo's 24th birthday nearly passed without him realizing it.
But this time, it wasn't for the usual reasons.
Every year since his hero debut, Keigo had hid away on his birthday.
He hated the way the media blew it up, and all the extra attention from his fans and supporters made him uncomfortable.
If he were completely honest, he didn't like the reminder of how utterly alone he was, either.
But by his 24th, that had somehow changed.
Not unlike his on his eighteenth, he came back to his place close to midnight.
However, this time, his place was really his place.
It was smaller than the apartment the Commission had put him in, but he preferred it that way.
The place was warm, and homey, and Keigo actually liked spending time there.
That was all still new to him.
That night, he wasn't home late because of work.
He was home late because he had been out to dinner with Rumi, Hakamada, Taishiro, Aizawa and Yamada, who had all insisted on doing something to celebrate his birthday.
That had turned into drinks with Rumi, and just as he has started talking giving Dab-, no, Touya, his name is Touya, a call at the rehab center he knew he was staying at, Ruminator had decided it was time to call it a night.
When he entered his apartment, Keigo made sure to put all the little gifts he had gotten that day on his kitchen table to look at one more time, reading the cards and trying to take it all in.
Endeavor hadn't been able to join the dinner, but he had offered to take him out for lunch, and it had cost every ounce of self restraint he possessed not to ask about Touya.
At the end of the meal, Enji had given him a card that was signed by all the Todoroki's except Touya and a little envelope with a way too familiar handwriting on it.
From him, Enji had said.
However, Keigo new better than to open that when he was alone and bordering on the limit of drunk of his ass.
Maybe tomorrow.
But there was one more gift Keigo hadn't gotten to open yet, left at his office by his little protégé, Tokoyami.
Keigo dumped down on his couch as he started carefully unwrapping the small item, and when he pulled it out, he felt an odd, powerful mix of emotions overtake him.
A plushie.
A Tsukuyomi plushie.
With it was a note written with the tell tale calligraphy Tokoyami always used, telling Keigo it was all thanks to him that he had come this far, that he had gotten his first merch produced, that he had become the hero he always wanted.
If he were sober, Keigo might have held it together a little better, but as it was, the note was nearly drenched in tears by the end of it.
Still hiccuping slightly, Keigo headed towards his bedroom, still holding the plush, and made his way over to the nightstand, opening the drawer slowly.
He picked up the two plushies already inside, one old, withered and dearly beloved, and the other disregarded for the past six years.
He neatly sat all tree of them down on his nightstand, three hero plushies in a row;
All birthday presents, all representing a very different time in Keigo's life.
For the first time since in twenty years, Keigo fell asleep with a smile on his face on his birthday.