“Iｔ'ｓ  ａｌｌ ｒｉｇｈｔ, ｎｏｗ!                 ¡ʍou ‘ʇɥƃᴉɹ llɐ

★—The flurry of warmth to his shoulders, as he sat busied, pried his attention from the card he was signing. He recognized the presence of this familiar, precious person even before his bright eyes could regard the sight of her. The blanket was cheery in design, and welcome in its weight. Gingerly, he set a hand on one of hers,

❝Nana! Thank you! I didn’t hear you come in.

                 Don’t let me be rude, let me get you a-❞

    But the soft collision of his irreplaceable teacher’s kiss to his brow hushed his conscientious worries, and he was left in speechless, flustered appreciation. Nana’s affectionate praise dropped a dam at the base of his throat, closing it against his words. But it also seemed to open a floodgate somewhere behind electric blues.

    Nodding with effort, eyes stinging with gratitude too deep to utter, he wrapped his arms around Nana’s waist, letting his forehead come to rest against his teacher’s abdomen, like a child. Who in this world, didn’t want to hear such things, from their own #1 ranked hero?   

  Clumsily, composure waning beneath the immensity of emotion, he pointed at the attentively wrapped basket to the left of the surface he worked on. The basket was filled to the brim with holiday themed cookies and pastries, secured within the weaved container by decorative cellophane. The card he’d signed was to her, as well.

 It read,

To the teacher who gave me the world,From watching your back, I learned about strength. Within the span of your palm, I studied compassion. In the words you said, I discovered wisdom. By the sound of your laughter, I learned how to love.And through your works, you taught me to what a single life amounts.Thank you, and Merry Christmas,  to the Greatest Hero I have ever met,    With all my heart,            Toshinori Yagi

                                                  —Ｗ ｈｙ                                                                    ¿ʎɥM—                                                            

                                                       — ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ Ｉ ａｍ ｈｅｒｅ!!”

                                                               ¡¡ǝɹǝɥ ɯɐ I ǝsnɐɔǝq —

“Iｔ'ｓ  ａｌｌ ｒｉｇｈｔ, ｎｏｗ!                 ¡ʍou ‘ʇɥƃᴉɹ llɐ

★—A surprise attack?! He had been looking for the ash-haired perfectionist, but he didn’t expect to find him at the other end of a blast! It was Young Bakugou, behaving as unpredictably as ever! The grenade was fired, and All Might barely had the chance to shift to a more defensive posture.  HERE? NOW? Adolescence, he knew, was a tumultuous time, but surely there was a reason behind Bakugou’s abrupt -   

    Suddenly, amidst the heat and force, a package hit the center of his palm, and the blond closed his hand around what seemed to be the core of the explosion. It smoldered a bit, within his hand, and he made hastened ‘ow, ow, ow!!’s while he dampened out the sizzling wrapping with the weight of his palm. 

    The wrapping was unbound, and the gift inside merited a broad grin to the instructor’s otherwise perplexed features.

❝HAHAHA! YOUNG BAKUGOU, YOU’RE QUITE THE ENTERTAINER, TOO, AREN’T YOU?

      THIS IS EXCEPTIONAL, YOU RECKLESS ZYGOTE, YOU!!❞

 All Might crossed the distance between them within an instant, massive arm extended to pull Bakugou in against his torso - a crushing hug of appreciation.

 ❝THANK YOU, BAKUGOU, MY BOY!

             NOW, I HAVE SOMETHING FOR YOU, AS WELL.❞

  He extracted a small pair of wristbands, and held them up for Bakugou’s inspection.

❝THESE BRACERS ARE A SURVIVING RELIC FROM MY ROOKIE DAYS. I TRAINED WITH THESE WHEN I WAS AROUND YOUR AGE. YOU REMEMBER THE WEIGHTS FROM THE EXAM BACK THEN, RIGHT? THESE TOTAL TO AROUND THE SAME. YOU AND MY YOUNG SELF ARE A LOT ALIKE; ALWAYS PUSHING THE BODY HARDER AND FURTHER. I DON’T THINK IT’LL BE LONG BEFORE YOU CAN USE THESE EFFECTIVELY. JUST REMEMBER,  THEY’RE UNFORGIVING, SO DON’T OVERDO IT.

MERRY CHRISTMAS, BAKUGOU.

               IT’S A FINE THING, THAT YOU CHOSE TO ATTEND UA THIS YEAR. ❞

                                                  —Ｗ ｈｙ                                                                    ¿ʎɥM—                                                            

                                                       — ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ Ｉ ａｍ ｈｅｒｅ!!”

                                                               ¡¡ǝɹǝɥ ɯɐ I ǝsnɐɔǝq —

@preheroiics

  🎅—IT WAS FUN TO BE YOUR SECRET SANTA! THANK YOU FOR PARTICIPATING!

I WANTED TO COMMUNICATE MORE OFTEN! BUT I ENDED UP SO BUSY THIS MONTH.

  IT WAS HARD TO SOUND ANONYMOUS,  I JUST KNEW I’D GIVE MYSELF AWAY, HAHAH! 

 I BELIEVE I CAUGHT YOU DURING A BLOG-RESET, SO I APOLOGIZE IF MY TIMING MADE CORRESPONDENCE DIFFICULT, BUT I ENJOYED READING YOUR ANSWERS AND LEARNING ABOUT THE WAY YOU PLAY YOUR MUSE. I LOOK FORWARD TO PLAYING WITH YOU ANYTIME, IF YOU EVER FEEL INCLINED TO IT!

(I HOPE YOU LIKED YOUR ICON. YOUNG AIZAWA IN A CAT SWEATER IS QUITE AN AESTHETIC.)

                                                          HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!

have an autograph!!

“Iｔ'ｓ  ａｌｌ ｒｉｇｈｔ, ｎｏｗ!                 ¡ʍou ‘ʇɥƃᴉɹ llɐ

  ★—The hot cocoa was a merciful offering on the frigid December morning. Toshinori was one of those types who enjoyed the diversity of the seasons - from the sweltering hot summers that wrung every drop of sweat from honey-tanned skin, to the icy, chilly winters that left noses and cheeks as red as the ornaments on the Christmas trees. Those taxing temperatures made the seasonal affectations and delectable bounties all the more appreciated; present offering included, as his dry, wind-chapped hands accepted the cup from Stark.

    Before he could issue his booming thanks, the inventor posed a most bewildering inquiry - prompting the blond to follow his gaze to the mistletoe secured overhead.

    The mistletoe. He had been so careful, up until this point. He had navigated around them all this time; walked sideways down the hallways, climbed into classrooms through the windows…  he’d even made use of the maintenance ducts, rather than contend with the obligations decreed by the wily flora. One just couldn’t be too careful during this time of year. 

    And indeed, even with all of his attentiveness, he’d neglected the presence of just one sprig. Now the younger instructor was regarding him with mischief and no polite declination in reach. 

  Glancing downwards, at the delicious drink in hand, the blond summoned a bold grin and a joyous posture that stemmed from a very genuine root of thanks, towards Stark’s enthusiasm for the season. He could manage this. It was just a game. He liked games. It was mischief and practical fun. If it was witnessed or mentioned, he could laugh it off and make a show instead, of encouraging the sentiments of a season that celebrated the ties of humanity. The holiday spirit was worth cultivating a few moments of personal courage and accelerated affinity, after all. He approached the challenge with the air of good-natured sportsmanship, and allowed surprise to manifest at the visual realization of the mistletoe in relation to Tony’s prompting. 

❝OH! YOU’VE CAUGHT ME FAIRLY, IT SEEMS!

                   HAHAH! LURED ME IN WITH THE HOT COCOA, EH?

                              I GUESS THIS ROUND IS YOURS, IRONMAN-SENSEI!❞

  All Might issued a hearty laugh, and ducked his height before his more refined considerations barred against it. His empty hand took purchase upon Stark’s shrugged shoulder, and a very incomplex kiss scored just at the side of the inventor’s wry mouth. It was brief, chaste, and all in the spirit of good fun. He just hoped that Tony didn’t mention it too much, too directly, or at all, really. His own composure was such a capricious veil sometimes.  

                                                  —Ｗ ｈｙ                                                                    ¿ʎɥM—                                                            

                                                       — ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ Ｉ ａｍ ｈｅｒｅ!!”

                                                               ¡¡ǝɹǝɥ ɯɐ I ǝsnɐɔǝq —

“Iｔ'ｓ  ａｌｌ ｒｉｇｈｔ, ｎｏｗ!                 ¡ʍou ‘ʇɥƃᴉɹ llɐ

  ★—Toshinori’s curiosity and subsequent gratitude were hushed out by the enveloping warmth of the scarf’s generous, plush coils, piled around his neck and chin. But the amusement carried all the way to his eyes. Fully adorned and ready for winter’s icy charm - his gaze followed Aizawa’s back for the duration of his retreat. Toshinori was a bit(?) of a clothes-hound, and he was quite happy with this unexpected gift! The simple elegance of the scarf would find the article a mainstay in his winter wardrobe. He had no doubt that Aizawa would discover the presents he had left for him, at his desk in the teacher’s lounge. 

    Earlier that month, he’d inquired in an informal text as to what Eraser would have liked for Christmas, and, unsurprisingly, but just as endearing, his junior had simply responded with ‘Peace and quiet.’ 

    The blond had considered that rather ambiguous desire for some time, before he decided upon a few simple representations. And the veteran hero grinned beneath the comfortable layers of the scarf at his jaw as he recalled the cheery dilemma of choosing gifts for one of the more enigmatic individuals for whom he cared, very deeply. Toshinori hoped to arrive to the door of the teacher’s lounge in time to witness Aizawa’s response to his gifts.

    The package addressed to Eraserhead was wrapped in holiday paper depicting decadent, sleeping cats, sprawled across unreasonable surfaces, very true to life. And that was only half the fun. Folded inside was a pajama set - and the fabric was a cozy, warm-up like material patterned in a reflection of All Might’s own Silver Age costume. Even the muscles were printed in loyalty to the vision of the symbol that was the #1 Hero. He’d been so terribly entertained by the prospect.

        A gift of “Peace”, indeed!     

  If Aizawa could endure it, the second token within the same package was a stylized ‘meditation’ type CD titled, ‘Two Hours of Kittens Purring.’ The cover boasted that the enclosed tracks could achieve everything from regulate blood pressure to improve lucid dreaming; but certainly, it promised to offer the listener the best sleep of their life.

      It wasn’t exactly silence, but it was a variation of quiet just the same! 

               Requests filled!

                                                   —Ｗ ｈｙ                                                                    ¿ʎɥM—                                                            

                                                       — ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ Ｉ ａｍ ｈｅｒｅ!!”

                                                               ¡¡ǝɹǝɥ ɯɐ I ǝsnɐɔǝq —

“Iｔ'ｓ  ａｌｌ ｒｉｇｈｔ, ｎｏｗ!                 ¡ʍou ‘ʇɥƃᴉɹ llɐ

★—All Might lifted the parcel up, enveloping it gingerly in his expansive grasp. He turned the box over, in appreciative curiosity. It was meant for him, but when had…? The holidays had tugged him all over, along with those of his fellow Pro Heroes who were willing to make the appearances, speeches, and lead the traditional spectacles that the holiday merited. He’d even spent a bit of time in America for it (where the holiday received admittedly different attention than in his home of Japan). Weary but satisfied, his expression was contemplative when he discovered the parcel. Now the atmosphere surrounding him brimmed with sentiment. 

  He took the box inside with him, and considered it all the way to his desk, where he laid away his red coat, the faux Santa beard, and some new office supplies. Inside the lounge, the bulk of his frame was left behind, in a flurry of steam and quiet coughs, but his thoughts were on the surprise package. The blond was impatient to open it, which is why he delayed - such was the Christmas game, wasn’t it? The teacher’s lounge was quiet for the time being, and only the low thrum of a warming pot of water could be heard. In this pleasant solitude, the present was divested of its characteristic wrapping (which he liked, a lot.)

     The coffee was celebrated with a wry chuckle, and striking eyes glanced at the freshened coffee maker, just waiting to percolate a sample. Winter-chilled hands were quick to form up a prayer of gratitude towards Nighteye’s peerless memory. And no time was wasted before he was indulging in a gratifying cup of his favorite coffee, while he investigated the rest of the gift. 

    Toshinori carefully held the figurine aloft, memory and time reviewing its features, and the events that had surrounded him during the era of its creation. At first, there was nostalgia, and then an ounce of peace for his own behalf. The hurried youth he’d been. The restless adult he’d become. Changes upon changes. It had all been done, for the achieving of a dream. …they had all come such a long way, hadn’t they? 

    He took a sip of the flavorful coffee as he read the note, scrawled in Nighteye’s impeccable calligraphy, and the subsequent affectionate, asymmetrical smile was richer and warmer than even the fresh coffee in hand. Toshinori eyed the Santa costume, lying over the back of a chair. It seemed he had one more delivery to make. 

                                        —Ｗ ｈｙ                                                                    ¿ʎɥM—                                                            

                                                       — ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ Ｉ ａｍ ｈｅｒｅ!!”

                                                               ¡¡ǝɹǝɥ ɯɐ I ǝsnɐɔǝq —

★—❝OH MY GOODNESS!

       SO MANY THOUGHTFUL MESSAGES! I’VE NEVER HAD A SECRET SANTA BEFORE.

                          AND I’LL NEVER FORGET YOU, EITHER. THIS WAS MAGICAL.❞

⛄ —HAH! THERE’S NO CAUSE FOR APOLOGY, MY DEAR SECRET SANTA!

  I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had time enough to check back here enough! But I do want you to know that I’ve appreciated the correspondence throughout the holiday, and I’m honored that you think well of my portrayal! I have the best wishes and regards for you, too, and hope that you’ve had a mirthful, cheery time of it!

         Have some cookies and a warm drink on me, Dearest Santa!

★—The veteran hero had observed the diligent process from a doorway’s distance - long enough to cultivate an understanding of what exactly, she was trying to achieve. Witnessing her determination waning, and vexation reaching an endearing height, All Might decided that it was time that he did that meddling that heroes were wont to do.      

   ❝Ahh, don’t give up, my girl. You almost have it.❞

  His voice was uncharacteristically soft as he ducked his considerable height down, crouching beside Eri. He lifted the rebellious tresses in between careful fingers, measuring out a degree of the length. Methodically, he wove her pale, nacreous hair back, into a pair of matching braids, so that the tufts at the ends of the braids would mirror the silhouette of his own unmistakable appearance. Encouragingly, he gestured to Eri’s valiant shadow on the wall behind her.  

   ❝WHAT DO YOU THINK, HM? HERO-WORTHY, IF I HAD TO SAY!❞