"To come to terms with monotony is to accept variety."
It was likely a phrase he'd read whilst flicking through some pre-quirk era book as a kid that he had long since forgotten (whether that was due to his disinterest with the text itself or his own negligence was unknown to even himself). Back then, heroes were the only thing on little Izuku's mind; he would incessantly watch heroes on TV as they battled and saved in equal quantity, he would comb through hero forums for any extra details on the up-and-coming pros both spotlight and underground alike, and, if given the chance, he would mumble at breakneck speed analysing the quirks of every passerby encountered that day. So why, in spite of all of that, did this particular phrase hold such vital meaning to him?
At first, Izuku himself could not fathom why exactly his subconscious latched onto it for years on end, although he was indeed certain of the almost innate attraction to the phrase. He chuckled at that.
The quotation itself was ironically unique to him for he had not heard anything quite like it before nor after discovering its existence. He mused, in hindsight, that these ten words had peculiarly managed to encapsulate his own life’s journey up until his then-current situation, at least, in principle.
In a world of the extraordinary, the ordinary were believed to simply have no place in it.
From an outside perspective, the Midoriya's had been almost notably average; they were far from the richest in this side of Musutafu, but not among the poorest either. The family of two, Mother and Son, lived comfortably and had no qualms with the cards they had been dealt with. Arguably the most 'deadly' card of the deck, referring to the son's (Izuku's) diagnosis as quirkless, had a comparatively minor part to play in the game of everchanging strategy that is life, especially compared to the greater goings on in regards to quirk relations in this superhuman society. To this extent, Izuku merely did what he did best: he adapted to the hand he was given and played well. The aforementioned variety had primarily derived from this; his excellency and proficiency in analysis had earned him a reputable position as a police detective under the tutelage of one Tsukauchi Naomasa, the nationally renowned detective who was himself a vital card within the madness of the Paranormal Liberation War some eleven years back.
Izuku’s earnest and caring nature had also helped him meet and eventually marry the love of his life-
But this was all besides the point. He had the other 364 days of the year to lament his entire life story up until this current point in time, just not now. He smirked once more to himself. The very same habitual mumbling that had propelled him this far was now disturbing his otherwise linear train of thought. Fortunately no one else was currently at his apartment to hear it, for if they were they’d be subject to a frankly incomprehensible stream of seemingly nonsensical rambling that only those who were by now used to it would be able to in fact utilise the information spilling out of his mouth.
Today was Christmas Day, or so it was deemed to be. You see, for most in this great wide world, this particular day held special sentiments of relaxation, festivity and great moral spirit, often supplemented with ludicrous amounts of food and material gifts. Today was supposed to be that specific dissimilarity that alone broke up the tedium of the day-to-day cycle of life. Izuku's day paled in contrast as a result.
He would wake up at God-knows what o'clock, arrive at work to copious amounts of paperwork pertaining to a dozen individual cases that had to each be carefully examined and acted upon (let alone those few cases that inevitably turned out to be not so individual as first perceived) and return home long after nightfall drowned out the the sun’s blazing gaze. This happened, with some minute difference on occasion, sometimes with the thankful addition of being sent out to a fresh crime-scene to provide initial theories and speculations as well as providing back up in stressful situations on the job, other times spending an extended period of time in another prefecture on a particularly nasty case, every day as it turned out.
This one was no exception to that unwritten rule. Then again, that was honestly to be expected, both Izuku and his wife intimately knew that crime does not simply 'take a day off', although it did not serve to lighten the burden of this reality. Hell, arguably their separate yet similar professions relied on this fact of life being true; without the constant emergence of crime, there would be no reason for such jobs to exist, let alone become as prevalent as these roles are in the eyes of the populace.
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"Villain attack in the east precinct, we've so far managed to maintain a perimeter around the area, but we can't hold out much longer; we need backup!" The handheld transceiver blared, replicating the speaker's sheer urgency, which upon its hearing, was unceremoniously yanked from its resting place at the table and slotted into its respective holder on the man's jacket. He was sprinting to and fro the apartment, eager to race out the door as soon as possible. He did occasionally question why no one had ever complained of the stomping of heavy-duty combat boots every morning or so. He did all this whilst simultaneously doubly, triply and sometimes quadruply making sure he did in fact have everything he would need. God knows that would have been embarrassing for him to have forgotten something, especially someone of his status.
Regardless, he looked at himself in the mirror as yet another precaution.
Badge? Check.
Keys? Check.
Fedora? Check
Transceiver? Check.
Pistol? Check.
He was finally most certainly ready. Composing himself, he rapidly replied into the communicator and was already directing his officers as to what to do in one hand, the other busy getting in touch with the necessary parties. "The Uravity Agency is currently sending heroes to your location as we speak. You're gonna have to keep 'em busy for just a little bit longer 'till they arrive. Don't worry; we're on our way."
Swiftly, he managed to enter the inky car parked a few paces outside of the apartment block. Grabbing the wheel and flicking on the sirens (arguably his favourite part about the car itself), he set down the device on the other, empty seat and then proceeded to hit the gas, racing down towards the scene. Sweat coalesced on his brow as did it on his hands as he neared the location. This was all standard practice at this point, but he could not afford to be relaxed in this field. So little as one minute lost could be the deciding factor in whether someone could live or die that day.
Fortunately, every vehicle in the force also contained a built-in transceiver in place of the usual radio, meaning that the man did not have to risk his life every time he needed to give out commands to his men already on the ground. Speaking of which…
"So what are we dealing with here?"
"Three C-rank villains; Two emitter types, each being able to shoot lightning from their fingertips. Brothers most likely. The third is an unknown, but seems to have an usually high skill with knives. She's the wild card."
"Any appearance from the heroes yet?"
"No, not at the moment sir it's just- Hold on! Uravity has arrived and is engaging the trio!"
"Anyone else?"
"No sir, although she does appear to be dealing with them rather efficiently I might add."
Arriving at the scene soon after, he bore witness to one of the brothers attempting to zap her, but she fortunately dodged it with effortless ease, resulting in the blast hitting the other who had been behind the young heroine into a nearby wall. She then abruptly kicked and punched the last villain standing like some perfect combination of martial arts and dance until he too collapsed unconscious. All the while, Uraraka had her signature reassuring smile plastered on her face that reminded the man a tad too much of the former top hero.
The fight was most certainly quick. It did not drag on for more than it needed to - thus minimising the potential for the large collateral damage that plagued the other heroes in the top ten. Well, Uravity believed the fight to be over.
Unbeknownst to all, the ‘wild card’ had risen again, a knife shakily but steadily held in her tired grip. Taking several silent steps, they were only a few inches from inflicting a fatal strike upon her neck before a resounding bang ricocheted around the area, the fierce splatter of red liquid following the noise.
The villain lowered her arms, her breath halted and her eyes rolled backwards as did her body, slumping against the dirty concrete rubble with a decisive crash of unstable grit and other tiny debris spilling outward. Adjacent from the carcass was none other than the detective himself, gun still pointed at where the threat once stood, his own viridian eyes not at all tainted with hesitation. Slowly and calmly, he too lowered and tucked away his weapon, finally letting out a breath he never knew he was holding.
-----------------
However, it seemed that Fate was equally tired of this normality also.
“I’m home!” Izuku called out as he carefully opened the front door to the apartment, taking a few steps inside before removing his muddied yet somehow all-the-more garish garnet boots. While it was around 10pm on a Tuesday evening (a time where, in spite of the collective festivity of this current date, most had since settled into a deep sleep), he knew that his partner was present and most definitely awake.
Casually strolling through to the living room, which itself doubled as a kitchen, he was confronted with what can only be described as an utterly euphoric scene: in the back corner besides the window stood a solitary yet proud viridian tree clothed in lights and tinsel and helmeted with a gleaming star, adjacent to it was the dining table donned in simplistic candles and velvet napkins on either side, and amongst all that was the luxurious smell of-
"Is that chicken?" Izuku playfully queried.
"Why yes it is, glad ya noticed. Only took you five minutes," his partner snarkily replied, turning towards him. Midoriya Kyouka, more commonly known as Earphone Jack to civilians and fellow heroes, was a promising young Pro Hero with an incredibly successful career over the brief nine years she had been working for (though given the average retirement age of the role, one would easily deem her a veteran of the profession); she had also graduated as part of the so called ‘UA Hell Class’ which in itself practically guaranteed significant media attention to all those in it, let alone the feats she had accomplished in the period since entering the workforce. That particular class had been the centre of many controversies and incidents, from the USJ incident in their first week as well as the I-island siege, to the Paranormal Liberation War and later the Humanize crisis. And that was when they were mere first years, so it was no wonder that their class only totalled thirteen by the end of their third year, Kyouka being one of them.
To Izuku, she was simply divine. Despite still being kitted out in her hero costume (for, unbeknownst to Izuku, she had arrived about forty minutes prior), only having replaced her jet-black leather jacket with an equally dark coloured apron, her features were just that much more apparent. Her raven hair, barely contained in a ponytail, gracefully flowed down to her shoulders, streaks of a more vibrant, vivid violet among them. Her face was surprisingly devoid of the usual crimson marks beneath her eyes nor the subtle makeup she would use to disguise the more ‘egregious’ scars scattered across her visage. As much as Izuku always made her aware of how he thought they added to rather than detracted from her beauty, it was an unfortunate fact that in limelight heroics those otherwise inconsequential features do have an effect on public approval, however minor, and may become the difference between rising in rank or potentially falling in rank. In conclusion, to see her without them denoted tonight as something incredibly special indeed.
“Talk about romantic,” Izuku quipped.
“Well it is meant to be Christmas after all,” Kyouka responded with a hint of sarcasm. “It's not like we could have celebrated earlier, Mister Overtime,”
"Kyo, just because I finished later than normal.." he light-heartedly explained. Kyouka burst into a fit of giggles, each one yet another reminder of exactly why Izuku came to love such a woman as her. "I know, I work in the same industry, silly. Now, enough talk about work, let's eat!" She declared.
The small meal, now fully prepared and finalised, was then set upon the maple table on either end, the two carrying out this duty in equal steed. They then individually sat down upon a sturdy metal chair, relaxing slightly as they each grasped a transparent glass already filled with a familiar plum purple liquid.
“Merry Christmas!” They cheered together, clinking glasses.
And just like that did the night continue onward in comfortable peace, the couple merely revelling in the precious company of one another. No need for extravagant gifts nor overtly ornate food (although the food they did have was positively exquisite) for that was all they needed on a night like this. It was unusually quaint for sure, but it was the variety in that very quaintness that they cherished so much .
