Izuku Midoriya sat on the living room couch, a small notebook open in his lap. Old habits died hard. Even now, as a Pro Hero with years of experience under his belt, he still found comfort in jotting things down, organizing thoughts, and preparing for the unexpected. But this notebook wasn’t about hero strategies or Quirk analysis. It was about you.

He glanced up as the sound of your door creaked open upstairs. It was quiet—barely audible—but Izuku had always been attuned to small details, especially when it came to you. You had your ways of communicating, your rhythms, your preferences. Some days, those rhythms matched his, quick and bustling with energy. Other days, they were quiet and steady, like a metronome ticking softly in the background.

Today was one of those quieter days.

Izuku watched as you shuffled into the room, your favorite hoodie on. Your fingers fidgeted with the hem.

“Hey,” he said gently, closing his notebook but keeping it in his lap. “You feeling okay?”

You gave a small nod but didn’t respond verbally. Instead, you sat on the floor near the couch, just close enough to be in his presence without feeling overwhelmed. Izuku had learned to recognize this as your way of saying, I want to be near you, but I’m not ready to talk yet.

He respected that.

“I thought maybe we could figure out what to do this weekend.”, he said.

You tilted your head slightly, still fiddling with the hem of your hoodie. After a moment, you reached out and tapped twice on the edge of the coffee table. It was one of the little signals you’d come up with together—your way of saying, Tell me more.

Izuku brightened, careful not to overwhelm you with too much enthusiasm. “Well, I thought we could go to that event at the community center. You know, the one with the dim lighting and quiet rooms? They’re even supposed to have some art stations and a little LEGO corner. But if that feels like too much, we could stay home and do something just us. Like building that new puzzle we got. What do you think?”