#anyways its explosion dudes bday

[queenangst]

Deku didn't tell anyone when his bday was because of bad memories, but he gets happily surprised?

Anonymous said: Class 1a doing a birth-day party for izuku who don't now?

for my 30 min fic challenge / read more: ‘30 min fics’ tag taglist: @soyoudneverguess @granny-griffin @zannish @liarielle @aroandanxious @gwogobo @honeyandsunshine​ @cinammon-cinner​ @ice-is-my-lif​ @shanachoimaybe​ @ship-tost​ @gabs-2002​ @the-reading-obsessed-stitchbear​ @hello-kikiac​ @weird-skittle @sapphire363 @fr0znmang0 @in-honor-of-you

invitation [read on AO3]

“Izuku,” Mom was saying, “we can get you a cake this weekend, are you sure you don’t want one? And invite your friends—”

“No,” Izuku blurted.

He kicked his dorm room door shut behind him, slipping off his bag and setting it down. 

“No, um—thanks, Mom, it’s- it’s okay,” he finished, and hoped she couldn’t hear the way his heart was twisting painfully in his chest. “I- I’ll come home by myself, you know, spend some time with you…”

“Oh, Izuku…” Mom sniffled. “Are you sure? I know you’ve been busy, I just don’t want you to feel like your birthday isn’t special.” 

“You’re enough, Mom,” Izuku told her, and smiled though she couldn’t see him. “There isn’t really time to celebrate right now, anyway.”

“There’s always time for you,” Mom said. “Have a good rest of the day, okay, baby? I’ll make you katsudon on Saturday.” 

“Okay, Mom. Thanks, Mom.”

“I love you,” she said, and Izuku imagined her wrapping her arms around him. 

“Yeah,” he managed in response. “Okay, bye.” 

The phone clicked. Izuku sighed, shutting his phone off and slumping into his chair. 

He didn’t like birthdays. He didn’t like celebrating birthdays, because no one cared about Izuku’s birthday, about the stupid, Quirkless kid of Aldera— 

Izuku kicked at his desk. Stared at the edge of it blankly for a moment. 

Sixteen. He’d made it to sixteen. And he’d fought for it, fought for this spot, this room. 

Everyone laughed when Izuku handed out invitations to his birthday party. 

The day Izuku turned ten, he’d looked up an article about Quirkless discrimination. Fifteen percent of young Quirkless people attempt suicide between the ages of sixteen and twenty-four. He hadn’t meant to read it, but once he started he hadn’t been able to stop looking at the numbers, the statistics. Izuku was a number. Approximately twenty-three percent of Quirkless adolescents experience depression. Quirkless people are more likely to— 

Izuku’s wishes never came true. 

Two years ago, Izuku had still been Quirkless. He kicked at the desk again. 

No one wants to go to a Quirkless birthday party. 

Hero-themed. No one came. Izuku helped Mom set up streamers and balloons around the house. No one came. They ate cake alone, two forks cutting silently. 

Stop crying, Dad had said when he’d called in from America. It was the next morning over there, and Dad looked tired and cranky. It’s your birthday. Grow up.

Someone pounded on the door. Izuku jerked, startled. 

“Uh—”

“It’s me, nerd,” Kacchan called. “Open it in the next five seconds or I’m blasting the door off its hinges.” 

Izuku scrambled for the door. “That’s a violation of the safety codes, Kacchan.” 

“It’s not,” Kacchan said, then shoved something at Izuku. His face was pinched. “There.” 

“What- what—”

Kacchan rolled his eyes. “Forget your own birthday?”

Izuku looked down at the small box. The wrapping was All-Might themed with gold and silver stripes; Izuku gaped at it. 

“You got me… a gift?”

“Alright, I’m leaving,” Kacchan said, “I don’t want to see your face anymore. Don’t miss the study session tomorrow afternoon or I’ll drag you to the library myself, got it?”

“Kacchan!” 

Izuku gently unstuck the wrapping paper and cracked the box open. In it was a simple green composition book; in the rectangle where the titles were supposed to go Kacchan had written DEKU - HERO ANALYSIS but had left some space underneath. 

He thought of Kacchan marching on the playground. I’m not going to your stupid birthday party. And now Kacchan had— 

“Crybaby,” Kacchan said. He hadn’t left, and was watching him with half-lidded eyes as Izuku started crying. “Open the cover.”

Izuku held the notebook so the tears would miss it and turned the book, revealing the inner cover. He saw All Might’s signature first, written in the center with a smiley face next to it. Then he saw all of the teachers—all of his heroes—surrounding it. Even Aizawa-sensei had signed it with Eraserhead.

“You—” 

Kacchan huffed. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Kacchan…” 

“And don’t skip dinner,” Kacchan said, chopping his hand in the air. “Exit Light told me to tell you not to.” 

Izuku gently closed the notebook. He thought of Kacchan, hands pulsing with explosions in middle school; then thought of Kacchan now, carefully approaching the teachers and asking them to write their names. 

He swallowed painfully. 

“Tha- thank you, Kacchan.” 

Kacchan grunted. “Whatever.” 

Kacchan remembered. And got him a present. Izuku set the box and notebook on his desk, then wiped at his eyes. He didn’t need to celebrate, not with this reminder that what he’d always wanted—friendship—was rebuilding itself brick by lonely brick.

He did go to dinner, because Kacchan said that Iida said so, and Izuku wasn’t keen on disappointing his friend. The commons room was unusually busy; most of them tended to eat dinner on their own, and the whole class quieted when Izuku walked in. 

“Um,” Izuku said, taking a step back. “Did I do something?”

Kirishima was the first to move, leaping up from his seat and whooping. 

“Dude,” he yelled, “it’s your birthday!”

He held out his hand, waiting, and after a moment Izuku let himself be led to the table where a meal had already been made. Uraraka beamed at him when he sat down, and Iida adjusted his glasses and nodded as he directed everyone to their seats. Everyone was here—even Kacchan, who slunk in and sat as far away as possible. 

“Guys,” Izuku said, voice cracking. 

There were streamers of all colors taped to the ceiling and balloons. In the center of the table was a card, which Todoroki picked up and passed down to him. 

You’re Invited, the card read. Izuku didn’t know why he laughed, but he did, pressing a hand to his mouth as he flipped the card open and saw all of his friends wishing him a happy birthday. 

“We were informed by an anonymous source that it was your birthday, Midoriya,” Iida called. “Sorry it’s so last-minute, but we hope you like— Midoriya?”

Izuku covered his face with his hands and cried. Uraraka, after a moment, squeezed his arm.      

“I— thank you…”

“Happy birthday!” 

Izuku pulled his hands free and laughed, wiping at his eyes. He looked over towards Kacchan, who held his gaze then dropped it. “Sorry. Thank you, everyone. I, um, I— I didn’t expect.. Thank you.”

“You’re our friend!” 

“You didn’t think we were going to let you celebrate alone, did you?” Uraraka asked. 

I wasn’t expecting it. I didn’t think anyone cared. A simple box, wrapped in All Might-themed paper; a card, with You’re Invited; a crowd of smiling faces. He hadn’t wished for it, but it’d happened anyway. 

After dinner and the loud, busy conversation they had cake, passing around forks, and Izuku cut into his slice and stuffed frosting into his mouth. It was sweet. He looked up, and saw himself surrounded by people who’d thought of him, and smiled.