Izuku wakes up slowly, grumbling at the prospect of leaving his warm bed. He snuggles into the covers further and groans. He opens his eyes and blinks at the ceiling, waiting for his brain to start working.
He’s comfortable and so warm and cozy.
His mind begrudgingly considers the reality of his inevitable getting up and stutters abruptly to a halt as he remembers the date.
It’s the last day of the year.
Izuku is facing a new year in less than a day.
Suddenly his prospective getting up and facing the day has a different feeling.
He realizes with a start that he’s used to this.
He’s used to waking up warm and comfortable and safe. He can’t remember when exactly the last time he woke up confused and disoriented over his room was. He can’t remember when it became his room and not just the room he’s staying in.
It really is his room he realizes with amazement. Yamada-san may not have managed to convince him to go on another shopping spree but slowly but surely it’s lost its impersonal air.
He has posters that Yamada-san picked up for him over time for all the heroes Izuku expressed his love for, including Present Mic of course.
His notebooks sit carefully on their dedicated shelf, with all the care he could never give them before. There’s other books too, thick quirk science tomes from Nedzu, a few adventure novels from Kayama-san, extra blank notebooks Aizawa-san bought so he doesn’t run out, a sketchbook from Hitoshi.
His desk is covered with half-finished homework and papers, there’s a folder laying abandoned off to the side. Tsu-chan gave it to him in a vain attempt to help his organization. His backpack sits hanging off the back of the chair. There’s a little homemade charm dangling off the strap, Hitoshi made it for him.
Izuku shifts slightly to look over at the corner, where Aizawa-san set up a cat bed. Tuna blinks slowly back at him.
He smiles at her.
He can’t remember ever looking forward to a new year. The prospect was always mired in the knowledge that the best he could hope for was consistency. That foster parents he could predict and accommodate were better than foster parents he couldn’t.
It’s different now. He has so much more than he ever thought possible.
He doesn’t need to accommodate them, not like his other foster parents. He doesn’t need to memorize patterns and tones and warning signs to dodge punishment and pain.
He finds himself looking forward to it, anticipating the new start and feeling more than a carefully practiced apathy.
He’s brought out of his musings by a gentle knock and call from Yamada-san letting him know that breakfast is almost ready. It’s more than enough to rouse him out of bed and dressed.
He takes a moment to kneel down and give Tuna a little attention.
“Thanks Tuna, for making sure I stayed.” She purrs in response, relaxing into a puddle of contented cat.
Izuku heads out to face the day, the last one of arguably the best and worst year of his life.
-
Breakfast is an elaborate affair, courtesy of Yamada-san.
Izuku doesn’t know how they’re going to eat everything.
He settles into his spot. He has a spot! And eats the wonderful breakfast, half listening to Yamada-san’s chattering and Aizawa-san’s quiet replies. Yamada-san laments his absence from the new year several times, bemoaning his early career decision to agree to a new year’s special.
“I like it, I used to l-listen to it s-sometimes.”
“You did!? Izu that makes me so happy!”
“Mhm, you always s-seemed so ex-excited for the new year.”
“Aw, I am excited, I’m even more excited this year!”
Izuku tilts his head a little in question.
“You’re here this year! We’re starting a new year all together for the first time!”
He feels himself blush and curl up in pleased embarrassment. Izuku knows they care about him, he does. It’s just, he’s not sure he’ll ever stop being surprised when they just talk like he’s here forever, like he’s a part of their family.
He wants it, more than anything he does.
He’s still not sure why they picked him. He’s just a quirkless little kid, a liability with a villain on his trail.
He can’t bring himself to doubt though, not when Aizawa-san gives him one of those tiny little smiles and Yamada-san gestures a little too wide in his enthusiasm.
They really do care about him and he loves them back.
Love is a dangerous concept, it hurts no matter what and he knows how risky it is. He knows that giving people your heart is one of the most dangerous things you can do.
He loves them so much anyway.
He didn’t even really decide to either. There was no big moment of realization, no decision made on his part.
He just does it. He loves them and in his best moments, when the doubt isn’t whispering at the back of his mind reminding him of how unworthy he is, he knows they love him back.
-
Yamada-san spends every moment he can with them before he has to leave. They watch movies curled up on the couch together and Izuku hugs his fuzzy green blanket close.
Izuku is content.
In the afternoon Yamada-san agrees to a nap, he needs as much rest as he can for the long evening ahead. Aizawa-san gestures for Izuku to join him over in the kitchen.
“Would you like to help?” He asks quietly.
“What are you making?”
“Well, ‘Zashi’s never been able to welcome the new year with me, not since we got married so… we have a tradition. ‘Zashi’s studio provides dinner for everyone but I always like to make Osechi to send along with him. I send a box for him and a couple extras for everyone else to share. Would you like to help put them together?”
Izuku would love to! He nods vigorously and watches Aizawa-san bring out bento boxes and ingredients.
They don’t talk much, Aizawa-san only occasionally pausing to ask Izuku’s opinion on one inclusion or another. Izuku doesn’t mind, he loves being included. Actually, he might cry if he thinks too hard about it. He’s helping with something Aizawa-san does every year, making sure that Yamada-san knows they’re thinking of him even though they can’t see the beginning of the year together.
Izuku could spend every New Year’s Eve just like this, he thinks, quietly spending time with his family.
And isn’t that a risky thought, that they’re a family.
-
Yamada-san heads out far too soon in Izuku’s opinion. He doesn’t say anything of course, but the apartment feels noticeably emptier after he sweeps out the door with a hug for Izuku and a kiss for Aizawa-san.
Aizawa-san must feel it too.
He sighs after the door closes and guides Izuku back inside.
They aren’t left alone long, much to Izuku’s surprise.
There’s a pounding on the door mere minutes after Yamada-san’s departure. Izuku worries that he forgot something important but Aizawa-san just sighs. Izuku thinks It’s a very fond sigh. He’s been getting better at telling them apart.
Aizawa-san grumbles under his breath and goes to answer the door, Izuku padding curiously behind him.
As soon as he opens the door Kayama-san struts into the entryway like she owns the entire building.
“Shouta! What a lovely surprise!” She grins and wraps him in a massive hug.
Izuku struggles to hear his response through her giant sweater. “Nemuri, we do this every year.”
“Hush, now, I want to see my nephew.” She releases him and zeroes in on Izuku.
“Hello Kayama-san.” He waves, slightly nervous.
“Oh, you’re still just so cute! Can I hug you?”
Izuku nods, she’s nice and he likes her for all that he doesn’t really understand her.
She wraps him in a hug just as massive and careful as Aizawa-san’s was.
“I brought cookies! And mochi, of course!”
She sets her bags down off to the side and surveys the apartment.
She nods decisively, Izuku doesn’t know why and Aizawa-san sighs in exasperation.
“I approve.”
“I’m glad.” Aizawa-san rolls his eyes.
“Now, I said I brought cookies but I’m going to need to borrow your oven.”
“You didn’t finish them?”
“Of course not.” She sniffs haughtily. “Everyone knows cookies are best warm, you have a perfectly serviceable oven and I desire the best experience for my darling little nephew.”
Izuku giggles a little at her performance and she beams, shuffling through her bags and getting out the dough.
“Not to mention the bonding opportunity! We can put them on the pan together!”
“Alright.” He goes to join her, carefully scooping the right amount of dough on the pan to ensure the perfect size.
She chatters the entire time and the apartment starts to feel warm again. He doesn’t forget that Yamada-san isn’t here but, it’s a little easier to bear with Kayama-san distracting them with jokes and cookies.
They’re just as good as he’d imagined, actually, maybe even better. He closes his eyes at the wonderful warmth of melted chocolate.
He thanks her profusely and she waves him off, chattering about how adorable he is.
It makes him blush, which is apparently also adorable and earns more cooing.
-
Aizawa-san kicks them both out of the kitchen eventually so he can make dinner. Evidently Kayama-san can’t be trusted to make real food. This of course starts a teasing debate about whether or not cookies are real food.
Aizawa-san is very convinced they are not. Izuku abstains.
He makes Toshikoshi Soba and Izuku struggles to remember the last time he celebrated the New Year with it. He isn’t sure he ever has. He’s thought about it a few times, eating a traditional food with people who don’t hate him, but he’s never allowed himself to dwell on it.
It’s amazing and the company is even better.
He smiles at Kayama-san’s chatter and Aizawa-san’s sarcastic responses. He even interjects a few times.
-
Izuku nibbles on his mochi and listens to Yamada-san’s New Year's program curled up next to Aizawa-san with Tuna napping on his other side. Kayama-san takes the chair and spends the evening sipping hot chocolate. She has Aiko lounging at her feet like the queen that she is. Sake spends the evening off hiding somewhere.
They all say Happy New Year together with Yamada-san and Izuku has never felt like it might be before, like it might actually be a happy new year.
“And before we say goodbye, I’d of course like to say a very special Happy New Year to my favorite listeners! I can’t wait to see you guys! Love you! This has been Present Mic! Signing off!”
-
Hizashi creeps into a still apartment.
The hall light is still on in anticipation of his arrival but all is quiet.
He takes his shoes off and sighs in the entryway. New Year’s Eve is always a bit of an exhausting adventure. He loves running his show and spreading joy but he does wish, sometimes, that he could be with his own family to welcome the change.
He carefully makes his way to the living room to see how things have gone in his absence.
Nemuri is still around, not a surprise, she usually sleeps over. Although she really could have pulled out the spare futon instead of sprawling across the chair. It’s a very nice chair but really, Nemuri, think of your joints.
Shouta isn’t in bed either, although he isn’t asleep. Hizashi sighs fondly at the sight.
Izuku is curled up at Shouta’s side, breathing peacefully.
Hizashi smiles at his husband, so wonderfully gentle.
“He tried to stay up for you.” He says quietly and moves to fiddle with Izu’s hair.
Hizashi could melt, he loves them both so much!
Instead he just smiles and moves to pick Izu up. There’s no need for all of them to stay out here.
He's getting to be genuinely heavy now, a development that has Hizashi's heart soaring.
He’s careful not to jostle or wake him but the little one stirs anyway.
Shouta, free of his anchor, gets up and starts the process of finding and setting up the futon for Nemuri.
“Yamada-san?”
“Hey Izu, it’s me. Happy new year!” He whispers.
“Happy new year.” Comes the mumbled response.
He’s nodding off again, it must have been a long day for him too. Hizashi pulls the covers back and lays him down in his bed.
“Yamada-san?”
“Yeah?” He gently nudges the hair out of Izuku’s eyes, absently considering when a good time might be to suggest a haircut.
“I love you too.”
Hizashi actually stops, stills completely, his hand half caught in a soothing movement.
“Oh Izu, I love you so much.” He forces himself to resume his gentle carding.
Izuku doesn’t respond beyond nuzzling closer, Hizashi isn’t even sure he’s fully aware anymore. He doesn’t know if he’ll remember this come morning.
He listens as his breathing evens out and deepens with sleep.
Hizashi shuffles out of the room and joins his husband in the kitchen.
The last thing he hears that night before taking his hearing aides out is his own whisper.
“He said he loves me, Shouta.”
Shouta doesn’t respond beyond wrapping him in a careful hug.