Work Text:
The Class 1-A common room being quiet should have been Izuku Midoriya’s first warning sign.
It was two nights before Christmas break. Usually, the dorms were loud, someone playing music too loudly, Mina redecorating something that didn’t need redecorating, Kaminari being told to stop doing something questionable near the outlets. Tonight, though, the space had settled into a rare studious hush.
The heater hummed. The windows glowed faintly with reflected snowlight.
The Christmas tree in the corner leaned stubbornly to the left like it had developed a personality.
Izuku sat at the long table near the windows with his notebooks spread out in careful rows. Color-coded tabs. Diagrams. Marginal notes. A highlighter he was using sparingly and responsibly.
Across from him, Momo Yaoyorozu read through a textbook with the same controlled focus she brought to everything. She turned a page, then tapped a line with her pen.
“This section assumes ideal material conversion,” she said thoughtfully. “No waste. No inefficiency.”
Izuku leaned forward, animated.
“Right, and that’s not realistic outside a controlled environment. There’s always energy loss during activation. Especially under stress.”
Momo’s eyes lit up. “Exactly. That’s the part I wanted to discuss. In practice, the margin of error becomes the real problem.”
Izuku smiled before he could stop himself, then ducked his head, pretending to re-check a line he already knew.
Studying with Momo had become… easy.
They’d started pairing up out of practicality. Momo was precise. Izuku was thorough. Together, they covered blind spots neither of them noticed alone. Somewhere along the way, the sessions had stretched longer. The silence between them stopped feeling awkward and started feeling comfortable.
Unfortunately, the rest of Class 1-A had the survival instincts of a pack of bored wolves.
Behind the couch, three shapes crouched in a conspiratorial huddle.
“Targets confirmed,” Mina Ashido whispered loudly.
Kaminari snorted. “They’re locked in. This is going to be perfect.”
Kirishima held up a sprig of mistletoe like it was a sacred relic. “Manly timing.”
Izuku was mid-sentence when the light shifted over his notes.
He looked up.
Green leaves. White berries. Red ribbon.
Mistletoe.
Hanging directly above his head.
His brain shut off.
Momo blinked, then slowly looked up too. “…Is that mistletoe?”
“GOT ’EM!” Mina yelled, springing into view like a victorious villain.
Izuku shot to his feet so fast his chair nearly toppled. “W-what?! Why is there-?!”
Kaminari popped up from behind the couch. “Season’s greetings!”
Kirishima gave a proud thumbs-up.
“Rules are rules, bro.”
Momo stood as well, cheeks flushing, posture still perfectly composed through sheer force of will. “There is no formal rule requiring anyone to-”
Mina waved a hand. “There is tonight.”
Izuku gestured frantically at his notebooks like they could serve as legal documentation. “We’re just studying! This is a misunderstanding!”
“Sure,” Mina said sweetly. “And I only decorate for subtle ambiance.”
Kaminari leaned in, eyes sparkling.
“We’re spreading Christmas cheer. One awkward kiss at a time.”
Momo’s lips pressed into a thin line.
“This is highly improper.”
“Highly seasonal,” Mina countered.
Several classmates had started paying attention now, heads turning, whispers spreading, someone (Izuku refused to identify who) already holding their phone like they were about to document history.
Izuku felt like he’d been dropped under a spotlight.
“Guys,” he pleaded, “please, this is really embarrassing-”
Momo inhaled slowly, then turned to
Mina with calm authority. “If this is intended as a joke, it has gone far enough.”
Mina blinked. For a moment, her grin softened.
“Okay,” she said. “Fair.”
Izuku exhaled so hard his shoulders dropped.
Then Momo turned back to him, voice lowering enough that the room seemed to fade slightly.
“Midoriya,” she asked gently, “are you uncomfortable?”
Izuku swallowed. “I’m… flustered. But not uncomfortable.”
Momo nodded, relief flickering. “Good. I would not want you to feel pressured.”
She glanced up at the mistletoe again.
“…But,” she continued softly, “if they’re insisting on tradition, we can choose how we respond.”
Izuku’s heart stuttered. “Choose…?”
Momo met his eyes, steady despite the pink in her cheeks. “We can decide. Not them.”
The room held its breath.
Izuku took a slow, grounding breath. Momo’s expression was composed, but her eyes were honest, offering him control, not taking it.
“I’m okay,” Izuku said, voice quiet but real. “If you are.”
Mina’s eyes widened. “WAIT-”
Too late.
Momo stepped forward and leaned in.
The kiss was brief, gentle, careful, unmistakably sincere. It wasn’t flashy. It wasn’t for the audience. It was simply… chosen.
For half a second after they parted, there was absolute silence.
Then the common room detonated.
“NO WAY!”
“I KNEW IT!”
“KIRISHIMA PAY UP!”
“THAT WAS SO CLASSY!”
Izuku stood there, face fully red, brain rebooting from scratch.
Momo cleared her throat, composure snapping back into place with unfair efficiency. “There. Tradition observed.”
Izuku let out a shaky laugh. “I think my heart stopped.”
Mina stared at them, then burst out laughing. “Okay. That was actually adorable.”
Kaminari wiped at an imaginary tear. “I live for moments like this.”
Kirishima pumped a fist. “Manly and respectful!”
Momo calmly returned to her chair, picked up her textbook, and turned the page like she hadn’t just made Izuku’s soul leave his body. “Now. As I was saying, the model does not account for energy loss under emotional stress.”
Izuku stared at her.
“…Right,” he said faintly, sitting back down. “Emotional stress.”
Momo’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “We can discuss it later. In more detail.”
Izuku nodded too quickly. “Y–yeah. Later.”
He tried to look at his notes. The notes blurred.
Because Mina Ashido was not a person who stopped while she was winning.
Mina clasped her hands together, eyes gleaming. “Well. That went better than expected.”
Izuku flinched. “That sentence scares me.”
Momo didn’t look up from her book. “It should.”
Mina turned slowly, scanning the room like she was selecting the next victim in a game show.
Her gaze locked onto Ochaco Uraraka near the kitchen counter, mid-laugh, completely unprepared.
“Oh no,” Izuku whispered.
Mina snapped her fingers. “Uraraka! Come here for a second!”
Ochaco blinked. “Huh? Why?”
She stepped forward.
Right into the path Mina had cleared like a stage.
Mina didn’t hang the mistletoe above the doorway this time.
She held it up like a mobile trap and stepped in sync with Ochaco’s movement until it hovered directly above her head.
Ochaco looked up.
“…Is that-?”
“Yes!” Mina said brightly. “It is!”
Ochaco laughed nervously, hands half-raised. “Mina, I- I don’t think-”
Kaminari leaned forward, delighted.
“This is becoming a tradition.”
Kirishima nodded solemnly. “A manly tradition.”
Ochaco’s eyes darted across the room, seeking an escape route.
She found Tsuyu Asui instead.
Tsuyu was standing near the couch, calm as ever, sipping tea like she was watching weather roll in.
Mina’s grin sharpened. “Asui! Come over here!”
Tsuyu blinked once. “Ribbit. Okay.”
She walked over with zero hesitation, stopping neatly beside Ochaco.
Mina lifted the mistletoe higher so it covered both of them.
The room went dead silent.
Then-
“WAIT.”
“NO.”
“ARE YOU SERIOUS?”
Ochaco’s face turned bright red.
“T–Tsuyu?!”
Tsuyu looked up at the mistletoe, then back at Ochaco. Her expression was neutral for half a second… then softened into something fond.
“Mm,” Tsuyu said calmly. “I guess this is as good a time as any.”
Ochaco stared. “A–as good a time as any for what?”
Tsuyu took Ochaco’s hand—gentle, certain, like it was the simplest thing in the world. “For not pretending.”
Ochaco’s breath caught. “Tsuyu…”
Mina clapped once, sharp and delighted. “YES! I KNEW THIS NIGHT HAD POTENTIAL!”
Izuku turned toward Momo, whispering desperately, “They were just… waiting?”
Momo’s gaze remained on her book, but the corner of her mouth twitched. “It would appear so.”
Under the mistletoe, Tsuyu stepped closer. Ochaco hesitated for exactly one second, then laughed, breathless and overwhelmed, and leaned in.
Their kiss was soft and unhurried.
Not showy. Not forced.
Just real.
The common room erupted again cheers, laughter, someone shouting that this was “better than the Christmas movie marathon.”
Ochaco pulled back smiling like she might actually float. Tsuyu remained calm, hand still in hers.
Mina looked like she’d just achieved world peace.
Kaminari wiped his eyes dramatically.
“This dorm is a romance factory.”
Kirishima nodded, proud. “Manly honesty everywhere.”
Izuku leaned back in his chair, cheeks still burning, heart still racing.
Momo finally glanced up at him, expression gentle and amused. “Are you all right?”
Izuku let out a breathy laugh. “I think this might be the most emotionally exhausting study session I’ve ever had.”
Momo’s smile softened. “Productive, though.”
Izuku stared at his notebook again.
The words were still blurred.
But now it was hard to be annoyed, because the entire room felt warmer, messy, loud, and weirdly affectionate in the way only Class 1-A could manage.
Above them, the mistletoe swayed gently, smug and far too successful.
And Mina Ashido the menace-in-chief looked around the room like she was already planning the next ambush.
Izuku didn’t even want to know.