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There's a leaf clinging to his window, Izuku notices.
It's a half-idle observation at most, really, his mind otherwise preoccupied, but he does take note that it's a Japanese maple, stretching fingers in auburn, sunset tones, veins slipping down their length, pale and creeping. It's beautiful, to be honest.
Maybe he could make something inspired by it? A coaster, maybe? Or something like a purse for his Mum, or a jumper even? He'd like another jumper, he thinks. It's getting late in the year, and for all that his Quirk helps to keep him warm, Izuku still finds that the cold makes his hands and shoulders ache worse than usual. Days like today are the worst for it, damp and heavy.
He's still thinking about all of this a while later, the rain still smothering the leaf against the window, heavy and constant, a soothing counterpart to the clack-clack-clack of his knitting needles, dark blue yarn suspended between them. Sometimes it twinges his hands, admittedly, and he often still aches afterwards, but the overall strength is worth it. He's glad his physiotherapist suggested it.
"Mido-chan, kero? Can we come in?" The call startles Izuku, and he nearly misses a stitch, except he draws a deep breath once, twice, settles his knitting needles together as he turns to the door, and ignoring the sudden pain that echoes up his wrist,
"Oh, sorry! Come in!"
The door to his room bursts open the moment he says it, Uraraka's grinning face already peering around, grown-long bob tumbling around her face, before all of his friend group are bundling in, tripping over each other and brandishing knitting needles, thankfully stabbed into balls of yarn so that their pointy ends are less likely to poke anyone's eye out.
(They've already had a near-miss more than once, because they're a bunch of fools that have a tendency to go for big physical gestures and flopping over each other, but none of them really mind, Izuku least of them all. He's just grateful that his friends offered to join him in learning how to knit. And, of course, that they've all been having fun doing so, which only makes it better.)
Everyone settles around the room, then. Iida settles, prim as ever, on Izuku's desk chair, however he stretches a leg out to be able to press a foot against Uraraka's leg from where she sprawls out on the floor, side to side with Tsuyu.
Todoroki, always very willing to be used as a heater, and knowing full well that Izuku appreciates it yet will very rarely ask for it, had immediately come to settle beside him, genuinely unbothered at sitting on Izuku's bed, happy to simply press in close to him instead, shoulder to shoulder. If he also happens to flare the fire side of his Quirk slightly, then that's by the by
(Izuku is so very genuinely proud of his friend for finding the tiny little ways to he make the Quirk that he did not like or trust into a positive thing. He is learning to become neither his brother nor his father, but rather to be his own sort of hero, his own sort of person.
He is learning to trust himself and his friends, and Izuku is so proud of Shouto for that.)
They all start chattering from there, and Izuku briefly puts his own knitting aside to marvel at the lilypad-patterned scarf Uraraka is making, running his fingers over the soft weave of the pink flowers and dark green leaves, a match to the one that Tsuyu is knitting. Todoroki, in contrast, is making a nebulous shape, which has pretty much been what he's done the entire time they've all been knitting, making various blobs, but he's enjoying it, and none of them really care beyond that.
Iida, when the conversation moves to his piece, holds it up with obvious pride, eyes shining behind his glasses, and they all 'ooh' and 'ahh' over it appropriately. To be fair, the helmet-styled hat is genuinely quite impressive for his second-ever project. Okay, so one or two of the more rigid protrusions, meant to look like the Ingenium helmet, are rather lopsided, but that's okay. He's trying. And they all know perfectly well that Iida's brother is going to love it regardless.
"You're doing well, kero," Tsuyu offers, and Iida flushes slightly, blatantly pleased. It's sweet, how much he just wants to make something that will make his brother happy, and that will give him back a little piece of Ingenium.
Izuku has the best friends ever, truly.
They settle down then, the varying speeds and timings of their knitting needles arguably discordant, but to be honest Izuku quite enjoys it. It's just nice to have the company.
He takes the time to take a photo of the leaf, just because it feels right, he would rather it than just a random picture off of the internet, if he really does use it for inspiration later, and just smiles when Todoroki raises eyebrows at him,
"Nothing. I just thought it looked pretty."
"Fair enough." The easy acceptance, as always, is appreciated, and Izuku gets back to his own knitting as well, listening contentedly as Uraraka and Tsuyu and Iida chat about the research and creation project that Midnight-sensei has set them.
"I might knit the flags for mine," he adds, when there's a suitable pause, his friends turning to him, only open curiosity in their expression.
"You were going to do about the Gemini Riots, right?" He nods at the question, and Uraraka leans back a little, frowning slightly,
"I didn't know there were flags for that."
"They weren't, you know, officially recognised or anything," Izuku shrugs, trying to keep from rambling for like an hour about the Gemini Riots because he's very passionate about how Quirks came to become acceptable, and Quirklessness villified, and the general history of how their society changgegd with the arrival of Quirks.
"But there was a lot of propoganda and each 'side' had a flag. Or at least a symbol that was painted onto flags and banners and buildings and things," he explains, and keeps it to that with only a little bit of difficulty.
"That sounds cool then!" Uraraka chirps, the others nodding along. Tsuyu croaks, quietly, before adding in,
"It would be a good use of knitting. Maybe next time she gives us a project I'll do the same. Kero, it sounds fun."
"I thought so?"
There are some nods and agreeing murmurs, clearly giving him some assurance even whilst giving him the chance to keep on talking. Their consideration, as always, is very sweet.
"I'm going to start it after this keyring." The words have Iida frowning slightly, concerned rather than judgemental,
"Will you have enough time? The project is due in a fortnight."
"I should do. I have the actual research and written piece all done already, so it's the only thing I need to do for it."
"Are your hands going to be okay?" Shouto asks. The question comes from a place of kindness, he knows, and it's impossible to be upset by it like he would have once been.
"I think they will. Thank you," he adds on, because he's truly very grateful for their concern, the genuine care with which they're asking.
His friends aren't infantilising him, aren't trying to override or patronise him. No, they're just worried. And Izuku doesn't mind that at all. Between themselves, over the last year or so of being friends, they have all found a balance of overt gestures versus tiny little ways of helping each other, and when to back off instead of pressing closer.
The conversation descends into their next projects then, Todoroki mentioning that he wants to use this neon orange yarn he found the other day, and it's only half-teasing when Uraraka wiggles her eyebrows a little,
"Got a shape in mind?" Todoroki, in typical Todoroki fashion, hums slightly, swaying closer to Izuku,
"I was thinking of the shape of when I dropped some soup the other day."
"Did you take a picture? An accurate replica may not be possible from memory!"
"I think I did," Todoroki murmurs, clearly trying to rememer for a long second or two before he shrugs, expression smoothing out again,
"Or worst ways it will be another shape instead."
"A fair argument," Iida muses, to a half-amused croak from Tsuyu.
Izuku is grinning, he realises, because there's an ache in his cheeks and his chest feels tight in the best sort of way. He's tired, still a little vacant-minded because it's been a long day and his hands aren't loving him today, but he's happy, set up for a very lovely evening.
(As it turns out, he will fall asleep within the next hour, his head on Todoroki's warm shoulder, his friends' laughter in his ears, dreaming of leaves and soft autumn heat.
But that's okay. His friends will quieten down a little, but keep on chatting. Iida will pass the blanket from the back of the desk chair to Tsuyu, who can then flick the blanket carefully over Izuku's lap and hands, the knitting delicately removed thanks to a light touch of Uraraka's Quirk.
Izuku will nap, safe and sound and utterly content, with his friends just as content around him. It's a very good evening indeed.
And maybe he will spend similar evenings, just as content and sweet, knitting something in the shape of a rain-battered Japanese Maple leaf, and his world will be warm and right.)