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The date approaches with heightened nerves and skyrocketing anxiety. Izuku hadn’t known the cause of the almost imperceptible shake in his hands, but he’d had his guesses. Despite this, he hadn’t directly thought about it during the days and weeks leading up to it. It’s not that he forgot– but he’s had more important things occupying his thoughts.
With the aftereffects of the summer training camp and the stress of trying to undo the haunting looks in his friend’s eyes, it had completely slipped his mind.
He wakes up one morning, turns his phone on, and sees three messages from the only people that know (or care), and it is only then that he glances at the date.
July 15. He is hardly surprised.
He shrugs to himself and quickly replies to the ‘happy birthday' messages from his mom, Auntie and Uncle. He is perfectly content to act like it is any other day (isn’t it?).
Izuku doesn’t necessarily dislike his birthday. It’s just– he vividly remembers turning five and being so excited in the way only little kids are capable of. He remembers the cake and the balloons and decorations in All Might’s signature yellows and blues. He also remembers watching the hours tick by, the grin on his little face slowly dimming as his party ends without a single soul coming to celebrate with him.
Back then, he hadn’t understood. Izuku had listened through the bedroom door as his mom called Kacchan’s parents, listened to her voice that was thick with tears and betrayal. He listened as she asked why ‘little Katsuki’ hadn’t shown up. He stopped listening shortly after. He was afraid his cries would alert his mother to his eavesdropping. Either way, he had already known the answer.
But Izuku was young and hopeful and the sun in his chest had yet to be eclipsed.
Every year he threw a party. And every year, he celebrated alone.
He doesn’t remember when exactly he had stopped trying; doesn’t remember when his sun had threatened to collapse, leaving behind only the darkness of night.
All he remembers is that gut-wrenching feeling and quiet resignation when he finally realized that his quirklessness had ruined more than just his dream.
He tries not to dwell on it too much as he heads down to the common room, clearing his mind of those bitter thoughts of a little kid who had only ever hoped. Hope had never gotten him anywhere.
Seeing his friends all scattered around the common room and kitchen (in various stages of getting ready) soothes something in his chest with a quiet sort of shock. For a moment, he had forgotten that he wasn’t walking out of his room into that quiet apartment, preparing to go to a school that had only ever hurt him.
But he’s here, standing within UA’s walls, fulfilling his dream with the people he cares about and care about him in turn surrounding him,
This, he thinks, is a testament to that freshly heartbroken quirkless kid that maybe hoping was worth it.
“Deku! What’re you just standing there for? Tsu made pancakes!” Ochako called from the kitchen counter, waving him over enthusiastically. Izuku grins at her.
“Coming!” He calls back, jogging over and swinging himself onto the counter next to her, kicking his legs childishly.
Tsu is quick to hand him a plate, which he takes with a smile and a, “Thank you!” Tsu nods in response before turning back to the stove.
He feels eyes studying him, turning to meet Ochako’s questioning gaze. “Is something wrong?” Izuku watches her eyebrows furrow, eyes jumping across his face, taking in something that only seems to make her more upset.
“Deku… are you okay?” Which… okay, Izuku isn’t exactly feeling fantastic, but that’s how it’s always been. Does he really look so upset as to worry his friends?
Tsu turns to them. “I figured something was off with you too but wanted to give you space, ribbit,” the girl says with a finger on her chin.
“Midoriya,” a voice says from behind him. Izuku startles, turning around to find Shouto directly behind him, piercing gaze boring into him. “If something is wrong, you can tell me.” The heterochromatic boy says it with a straight face, and to anyone else, it would seem like he doesn’t care– but Izuku sees the concern dancing in his eyes and the almost imperceptible tightness marring his face.
Guilt bubbles in his stomach. He had never meant to worry them. Still, something in his chest softens at the caring words they have so kindly given him. “I know. Thank you, but I promise it’s fine! I just woke up a little off.” True, but not the truth.
But his friends are kind and warm and they trust him, so they take his answer for what it is and continue with their previous conversations, Shouto settling behind them on one of the island stools as Tsu slides him a plate as well.
Izuku feels something in his chest settle as the day progresses. It is, truly, like any other day. And yet these typical, average days are more than he could have ever hoped for when he was little.
Warmth surrounds him all day. It’s in the little things, like the way Kirishima immediately turns to him when Kayama-sensei announces a group project, and the way Ashido and Kaminari make jokes where no one is the punchline, but they can still all laugh regardless. He feels it when Tenya thoughtlessly shares his lunch when he thinks Izuku isn’t eating enough, and when Ochako and Kacchan fistbump him after they come out on top during foundational heroics.
He feels their warmth all throughout the day and he feels light.
He forgets that it is such a dreaded day up until it’s time to go home. Izuku and his mom always try their best to spend special days (even if it feels more cursed) together. Aizawa-sensei wasn’t going to let him go home in the middle of the week, but Izuku had begged– not because he needs to spend it with his mother, but because he fears those middle school birthdays coming back if his classmates find out.
The light warmth gradually fades as he slips his shoes on, ready to take the train home to an apartment he knows will be empty until later tonight.
“Mido! Where are you going?” Kaminari calls from where he’s watching Ashido, Kirishima and Jirou duke it out in the new video game he brought from home. Immediately, all the attention is on him. One of the dorm rules is that they aren’t allowed to leave during the weekdays, after all. His classmates (his friends?) are bound to be curious as to how he managed to get permission.
He smiles and tries not to let the sinking feeling in his chest show. “I’m heading home for the rest of the day! I’ll be back before classes tomorrow, promise.”
Jirou furrows her brows as she pauses the game, ignoring the groans that follow. “Is everything okay? Aizawa-sensei wouldn’t let you go unless there’s an emergency.”
“No emergencies! I’m just gonna spend some time with my mom,” he reassures with a smile. “Bye guys!” and with that, he’s gone, leaving Heights Alliance and heading towards the gate.
The train station is quiet, but not as quiet as the apartment he steps into. The silence is familiar though, so Izuku can push back the annual memories of waiting alone for hours as his hope dwindled.
His mom should still be at work until later, so until then, Izuku will be on his own. He goes to the kitchen to begin dinner, blocking out the deafening silence with quiet humming. He can’t help but be reminded of those middle school days.
He remembers coming home and treating wounds that he prayed would never be seen before going to start dinner on his own. He remembers waiting hours for his mother to come home just so he wouldn’t have to sit at the dinner table alone. He remembers those nights when her night shift would run later than expected and he chose to sleep instead of eating by himself.
It’s unfair, Izuku knows, to blame his mother for all the times he has been alone in this house that does not feel like a home without her. She has worked tirelessly his entire life just to take care of him– and yet he still mourns all the time they could not spend together because of it. It’s unfair, yes, but Izuku aches with the need to fill this empty apartment with warmth.
Izuku has been told he resembles the sun; always bright and burning with fiery passion and so warm. And yet here, within these empty walls, he feels like his flames have been doused. Here, he feels so cold.
“Where the hell is Deku?” Bakugou growls as he storms down the stairs, head whipping around as he searches the common room. Ochako’s eyes hone in on the wrapped box clutched tightly in his hands.
“Sorry dude, you just missed him. He left a little while ago,” Kaminari responds from the couch. Bakugou growls in frustration, running a hand through his hair as he huffs out a breath.
“Of course,” he grunts, irritation colouring his voice. The boy stomps over to the couch, throwing himself next to his friends and tossing the wrapped box onto the coffee table. It is, evidently, a mistake to put it down in a room full of the world’s nosiest people.
Ashido is the first to snatch it off the table, squealing with delight. “Bakugou, what’s this!”
The explosive boy does not take her touchiness well. “Hop off, Racoon!” he yells, explosions bursting from his palms as he tries to snatch it back. Ashido tosses it to Kaminari to escape Bakugou’s wrath.
“Aww, did you get me a gift?” Kaminari teases, dancing away from the hands that reach out towards him, laughing mirthfully at the furious expression shot at him.
When Bakugou gets close, Kaminari tosses it back to Ashido in an over-glorified game of catch. It is, of course, Kirishima who steps in to stop it, snatching the gift from them and handing it back to Bakugou.
“So not cool, guys. Sorry, Bakubro, you know they’re just messing with you,” Kirishima says with a shark-toothed grin. Ochako watches as Bakugou grunts before flopping back onto the couch, this time clutching the gift to his chest protectively. Kaminari and Ashido whine at Kirishima before eventually giving up and returning to their game.
Ochako takes this as her chance to snoop. “Seriously though, what is that?” she says, bouncing towards the group on the couch and leaning over the back of it.
Jirou chimes in, poking Bakugou’s arm with her earphone jack. “Yeah dude, you don’t get that protective over anything, like, ever.”
“Exactly!” Ashido exclaims, flashing Bakugou her best pout. “It’s gotta be important! What is it? Who’s it for?”
Bakugou grumbles under his breath, glaring at them before replying. “It’s for stupid Deku.”
That takes them off guard.
“Deku? Why’d you get him a gift?” Ochako asks, confused. Surely, if there was an occasion for presents, Deku would tell her. Surely, they would have known.
Bakugou looks at her incredulously, before barking out a laugh. “He didn’t tell you? That’s rich.”
Ochako furrows her eyebrows, hurt bubbling up in her chest. What does Bakugou know? Why didn’t Deku tell her something that even Bakugou knows? “Didn’t tell me what?”
“It’s his birthday, Cheeks. I thought you losers knew and were just ignoring it or something.”
His birthday? But more importantly… “Why would we ignore it? We would never do that!”
Bakugou snorts, “Hell if I know.”
Regardless, Ochako has a mission now. She should have known, and now Izuku had to spend his birthday without any gifts or well wishes. Ochako is determined to make this right.
“Guys! I have a plan!”
Izuku waits a very long time.
He sits on that empty couch in their empty living room with his arms clutching his knees to his chest. He waits as dinner cools from where it was placed on their dinner table with the empty chairs.
He imagines things being different. He imagines sitting in the same apartment but instead of cold permeating the air, he imagines being filled with warmth. He imagines being surrounded by people and colour and life. He imagines smiling and laughing and, for the first time in his life, spending his birthday with friends.
Izuku dreams for a very long time.
He is not granted any of his wishes. Izuku sits on that empty couch in that empty apartment and waits.
“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry but I’ve been asked to stay a little longer. I know it’s already so late and you have school in the morning–”
“Don’t worry about it, Mom. It's fine. Promise.”
“Oh! But I know you wanted to spend today together. I’m so sorry, baby…”
“It’s not your fault. I’ll be fine.”
“If you’re sure…”
“I am. Really.”
“Alright, sweetheart. I love you. Happy birthday.”
“Love you too.”
“Yaomomo! Do you mind making some things for me? We need this to be perfect!” Ochako exclaims the moment everyone is gathered in the common room.
Everyone’s reactions had varied from excited at the prospect of what is to come, and deeply saddened that they had let Deku down. Still, they are all determined, and that is enough for now.
“Of course! I’m happy to help in any way I can.”
Ochako glances around for a moment. “Any other ideas? Sato’s on cake duty, Bakugou’s making food, Yaomomo, Mina, Tsu, Aoyama and I are on decorations… am I missing anything?”
Mina’s eyes grow wide. “Presents! We forgot presents!”
Kirishima facepalms. “Bro! We can’t have a birthday without presents!”
“But Aizawa-sensei isn’t going to let us go anywhere so late…” Ochako hums thoughtfully.
“We can make presents,” Todoroki suggests, startling a few people who had forgotten he was there due to his relative silence. “Izuku will love anything.”
Ochako smacks her fist against her palm, a grin lighting up her face. “Of course! Todoroki, you’re a genius!”
“Ms. Midoriya, I’m so sorry to bother you so late, but this is important!”
“It’s not a problem, sweetie. Is something wrong?”
“Nope! I just have a favour I need to ask. For Deku”
“Oh! Of course, ask away!”
“Alright, here’s what I need you to do…”
Izuku wakes up from a fitful sleep on the couch with a soft pink blanket thrown over him. He smiles at the sight of it before getting up, immediately spotting the note on the coffee table.
‘Leaving for work early today. I left breakfast in the fridge. Love you!
-Mom :)’
Izuku sighs a little, feeling his heart crumble a little more. Alone again, as he has always been.
It isn’t until he’s fully dressed for school that he spots the wrapped box on the kitchen counter. The wrapping paper shimmers slightly under the bright kitchen lighting, drawing his attention to the All Might printed on the side.
He smiles a little, ignoring the guilt in his chest that bubbles up when he sees that his mother had still tried.
Still, even as he opens the present and grins at the new figurine, something bitter inflates in his chest.
Being used to something is a terrifying thing. When Izuku had been little and hurt, he had been so used to the constant ache that it had become normal. He had been resigned to his fate.
But now, he has gotten too used to the warmth that comes from class A. He has gotten too comfortable with their kindness and love. It has only made the absence of it hurt even more,
Being used to something is a terrifying thing. Izuku wishes he would become resigned to hurt once more, if only so that disappointment wouldn’t hurt so much.
“All Might! Do you mind helping us out? We would really appreciate it!”
“What is it, young Uraraka?”
“It’s for Deku!”
“Just tell me what you need, and I’ll do my best.”
“Okay! Well…”
Izuku’s classmates are avoiding looking at him. It’s either that or they look a little too much, for a little too long.
He can feel their gazes boring into him in class. He doesn’t try to look back, but he feels it nonetheless. It’s nerve-wracking, and his anxiety is already at an all-time high, as it always is when he doesn’t sleep well.
Still, he tries his best to ignore it.
His heart feels heavy, and Izuku feels less like hero-in-training Deku, and more like the useless quirkless Deku than ever before. It aches viscerally in the depths of his chest. He feels like the cold of home has carried over and marred the warmth he has found in UA.
Really, it would be better if he didn’t even have a birthday– or maybe, it would be better if he hadn’t been born at all.
It’s not a rational thought, he knows. And yet he can’t bring himself to stop. He had known that this would happen. He had known that nothing would be different. He hadn’t even hoped for a good birthday– and yet somehow, he has still been disappointed so deeply that he feels like the sun in his chest has long since stopped burning.
The day goes like this: Izuku tries his very best not to think about that empty apartment and inevitably fails. His friends know something is wrong, but Izuku does not want to (and will not) talk about it. He still feels his classmates' heavy gazes and he still looks the other way. When classes end with Izuku feeling exhausted in a way he has not in a very long time, he immediately goes to his room and turns off the lights, lying in bed until the growl in his stomach grows too uncomfortable to ignore.
When he finally heads down to the common room in search of something to eat, it is bordering on seven at night. The lights are all off which… okay, weird, but Izuku pays it no mind.
That is, until the lights suddenly switch on and he is enveloped in a chorused cry of “Happy birthday!” and there is colour and light and noise and Izuku feels so warm.
For a moment, he stands there and stares in awe at the decorations that had previously been hidden in the dark, mouth open in shock as tears pool in his eyes.
“Wh-what?” he says in shock, taking in the fact that even his mom is here, standing next to All Might in the corner. He spots the cake on the table next to piles of presents and everything he has held in since yesterday morning comes spilling out of his eyes.
“Surprise! We planned this for you!” Ochako says, coming towards him with a bright grin, followed closely behind my Shouto, Tenya, and Tsu. “Everyone helped!”
“It was mostly Ochako though, ribbit.”
Izuku looks at his friends and his classmates and everything they have done for him and cries.
“Thank you.”
He throws his arms around Ochako, sobbing into her shoulder while she laughs and pats his back.
Izuku feels warmer than he ever has in his life, and he thinks it might just be because his friend's affection burns brighter than any sun ever could.
Later, when everyone is piled in the common room on piles of blankets and pillows for a class-wide sleepover, Izuku will whisper in the dark of night where secrets spill easier than during the day. He will tell them about how he has never had anyone celebrate with him, always left alone when it really counted. He tells them about that empty apartment where he has spent many empty years, and they will, in five short words, somehow make it all worth it.
“Well, now you have us!” they tell him, and Izuku smiles.
Yeah, he realizes with something bright shining in his eyes, he does.
Being used to something is a terrifying thing. But Izuku thinks he could get used to this.