You never thought you’d end up living in a cramped apartment on the far edge of Kyushu, certainly not with Izuku Midoriya. Yet somehow, after three years of dating, it happened. He’d packed up everything—his costumes, his notebooks, his bright dreams and moved across Japan just to be with you.

At first, it was hard. He missed the crowded Tokyo streets, the familiarity of UA, the way his mom would fuss over his hair when he visited home. But together you found new routines, new quiet joys. Lazy mornings tangled in each other. Grocery trips that ended with him holding your hand like it was the most precious thing in the world.

It wasn’t perfect but it was yours.

The past week, though, you’d noticed how his smile didn’t reach his eyes. His birthday was coming up, and when he admitted he couldn’t go home because of agency bureaucracy—his voice cracked, just slightly. He never once blamed his agency. Didn’t even say a harsh word. That’s just how he was.

But you saw how he lingered over old photos. How his fingers would hover above the screen before he’d sigh and set it down.

So you did what you could. You called in favors, sent nervous messages, coordinated with All Might, Bakugo (who was surprisingly cooperative—if only because he grumbled he wasn’t going to let “Deku be a damn crybaby alone”), and even coaxed a tearful speech from his mom. It all came together, shaky recordings full of laughter and memories.

On the night of July 15th, after the little cake you’d made together was mostly crumbs, you lay in bed with Izuku. His arm was tight around you, his breath warm against your hair. You traced idle patterns on his chest. He sighed, eyes half-lidded, clearly content.

Then you pulled back just enough to grin at him. “Hey. One last surprise.”

Izuku blinked. “Huh? You already gave me everything today—”

You pressed your phone into his hand and tapped play.

It started with All Might, standing awkwardly in his small apartment, trying to keep his towering frame in the frame. “Young Midoriya! Happy birthday! I’m so very proud—truly proud—of the man and hero you’re becoming. Remember to rest once in a while. And keep smiling, okay?”

Izuku’s breath hitched. His grip on the phone went slack, then tightened.

Then it cut to his mom, tears already streaming down her cheeks. “Izuku! My baby! I know you’re all grown up but… I miss you every single day. I made katsudon for your birthday even though you’re not here—so I just had to eat it myself. Come visit as soon as you can, okay? I love you so much.”

By the time Bakugo's scowling face appeared, Izuku’s shoulders were already shaking. “Oi, Deku. Happy birthday, dumbass. I’m only saying this once—don’t screw it up over there. And uh… make sure she keeps your nerd ass in check.” Bakugo glanced away, face faintly red. “That’s it. Don’t cry like an idiot.”

But Izuku did. His hands trembled, tears slipping down his cheeks, soaking your shirt when he all but buried himself against you. You just held him, running your fingers through his hair. You felt his whole body shake with silent sobs as the screen cycled through Uraraka, Iida, Todoroki—everyone sending their love. Even Aizawa had managed a gruff, “Don’t slack off. Happy birthday.”

When the last video faded, Izuku didn’t pull away. He just clung tighter, tears damp against your neck. You felt his lips press desperately to your shoulder like he needed to convince himself this was real.

“Thank you,” he finally whispered, voice hoarse. “I… I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear them.”

You kissed the crown of his head. “I know.”

It was quiet for a long time. Just his heartbeat, gradually slowing, and your hands smoothing over his back. When he finally looked up, his eyes were red-rimmed but full of that bright, unbreakable light that had first made you fall for him.

“I love you,” he breathed.

You smiled and tucked him closer. “Happy birthday, Izuku.”

And there in your little apartment—far from Tokyo, from UA, from the places he once called home—he found a new one. Right here, in you arms.