"No clown," Haruto reminded his mother for the fifth time that morning.
"No clown," she confirmed, tying balloons to the chairs. "Just family and the Midoriyas. Very small. Very calm."
"And Kacchan!" Izuku's voice came from the doorway, where he'd arrived early with his mother. "And his parents! Your mom invited them yesterday!"
Haruto's eye twitched.
"You invited the Bakugos," he said flatly.
His mother had the decency to look sheepish. "Mitsuki mentioned Katsuki wanted to come, and it seemed rude not to—"
"They bring chaos."
"They bring energy!"
"That's what chaos is."
"Haru, sweetie, it's your birthday. Try to be positive!"
"I'm positively sure this will be a disaster."
His father walked by carrying a cake. "That's the spirit, son."
The Bakugos arrived fifteen minutes later in their usual fashion—loud and impossible to ignore.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HARU!" Bakugo shouted, shoving a wrapped present at him. "I got you something AWESOME!"
"Thank you," Haruto said, accepting the gift cautiously.
"Open it! Open it now!"
"Katsuki, let him open it when he wants," Mitsuki said, though she looked amused. "Not everyone operates on your timeline."
"But I want to see if he likes it!"
Haruto unwrapped the present. It was a book about hero strategies, filled with diagrams and battle plans.
"See?" Bakugo pointed at it proudly. "It's got TACTICS! And STRATEGIES! So we can train together and get stronger!"
"This is actually really thoughtful," Haruto admitted.
"I KNOW! I'm great at presents!"
"Don't let it go to your head."
"TOO LATE!"
Izuku appeared at Haruto's elbow, holding his own gift. "I got you something too! It's not as cool as Kacchan's probably, but—"
"It's cool," Bakugo interrupted. "Deku's presents are always cool even though he doesn't have a quirk."
Everyone stopped and stared at Bakugo.
"What?" Bakugo looked defensive. "It's true! He's good at picking stuff!"
"Did Kacchan just compliment me?" Izuku whispered to Haruto.
"I think he did."
"Is he sick?"
"Possibly."
"I CAN HEAR YOU!" Bakugo yelled.
Izuku's present was a small potted plant—a tiny sapling in a hand-painted pot.
"I painted the pot myself," Izuku explained nervously. "And Mama helped me pick out the tree. It's a cherry tree! Like the one you healed in the park! I thought you could grow it and take care of it and—"
"I love it," Haruto said, and meant it.
Izuku's face lit up. "Really?"
"Really."
"Told you it was cool," Bakugo said smugly.
The party proceeded with surprising smoothness. The adults talked in the kitchen while the three boys played in Haruto's room. Well, Bakugo and Izuku played. Haruto mostly supervised.
"We should train," Bakugo announced, sprawled on the floor. "All three of us. Get stronger together."
"I'm quirkless, Kacchan," Izuku reminded him gently.
"So? You're still gonna be a hero, right?"
"Well, yes, but—"
"Then you need to train! Heroes train! Even without quirks!" Bakugo sat up, gesturing wildly. "You can do pushups and stuff! Get strong! Strategy!"
"That's actually not a bad idea," Haruto said.
Izuku looked between them, surprised. "You think so?"
"Yeah. Strength helps even without a quirk. And you're good at planning."
"See?" Bakugo pointed at Haruto. "Haru agrees! We should all train together! I'll work on explosions, Haru can do plant stuff, and Deku can do... smart stuff!"
"'Smart stuff' isn't a training category, Kacchan."
"It is now!"
They spent the next hour planning an elaborate training schedule that would probably never happen but was fun to imagine. Bakugo wanted to train every day. Izuku suggested three times a week. Haruto voted for "whenever we feel like it."
"That's not a schedule!" Bakugo protested.
"It's a flexible schedule."
"That's called lazy!"
"It's called realistic."
"You're both right," Izuku said diplomatically, scribbling in his notebook. "We could do structured training three times a week and flexible training the other days?"
Bakugo and Haruto looked at each other.
"Deku's too smart for us," Bakugo decided.
"Agreed," Haruto said.
"Hey!"
Cake time arrived with minimal incident. The cake was chocolate—Haruto's actual favorite, not just default rice—and shaped like a tree.
"A tree cake!" his mother announced proudly. "I made it myself!"
"It's very detailed," Haruto's father observed.
"Is that Gerald?" Haruto asked, pointing to a small fern decoration on the side.
"Yes! I thought you'd appreciate that!"
"There's a fern on the cake," Bakugo said. "Why is there a fern?"
"Gerald," Haruto explained.
"Who's Gerald?"
"My fern."
"Your fern has a NAME?"
"He's very wise."
Bakugo stared at him. "You named your fern. And you talk to it."
"He talks back."
"That's so cool!" Izuku pulled out his notebook. "Does Gerald actually communicate or is it more like—"
"He actually communicates," Haruto said. "We have philosophical discussions."
"With a FERN?!" Bakugo looked torn between impressed and confused.
"He's a very philosophical fern."
"I want to meet Gerald," Izuku declared.
"He's on the balcony."
They migrated to the balcony, where Gerald basked in the afternoon sun. The fern rustled slightly as they approached.
"Hello, Gerald," Haruto said.
Hello, small human. Are these your friends?
"Yeah. That's Izuku and Bakugo."
The analytical one and the loud one.
"Pretty much."
"What's he saying?" Izuku asked eagerly.
"He called you analytical and Bakugo loud."
"LOUD?!" Bakugo shouted. "I'M NOT LOUD!"
"You're proving his point," Haruto said.
Gerald rustled in what definitely sounded like laughter.
"Can I touch him?" Izuku asked.
"He doesn't mind."
Izuku gently touched one of Gerald's fronds. His eyes went wide. "It's so soft! And healthy! You take really good care of him!"
"We take care of each other," Haruto said.
That was almost sweet, small human.
"Don't ruin the moment, Gerald."
Too late.
"He's ruining the moment, isn't he?" Izuku guessed.
"Yes."
Bakugo was studying the other plants on the balcony. "You've got a lot of plants out here."
"They're loud too," Haruto said.
"Like me?"
"Different loud. They have opinions."
"About what?"
"Everything. The weather. Their pots. Each other. Last week the basil and tomatoes had a territorial dispute."
"PLANTS can have disputes?!" Bakugo looked delighted. "That's awesome!"
"It was annoying."
"Who won?"
"The basil. Tomatoes backed down."
"Basil's tougher than it looks," Bakugo said approvingly.
They were called back inside for presents. Haruto received books from his parents, art supplies from his father's coworkers who'd sent gifts, and a gardening kit from his grandparents.
"Now you can start your own garden!" his grandmother said via video call. "Your grandfather and I are so proud of your quirk!"
"Thank you, Grandma."
"Make sure you send us pictures of what you grow!"
"I will."
After cake and presents, the adults settled into conversation while the boys returned to playing. Or in Haruto's case, sitting while the others played.
"You don't play much, do you?" Izuku observed, setting up his hero figures.
"Not really."
"Why not?"
"Tired, mostly."
"From training?"
"And everything else."
"That's fair," Izuku said thoughtfully. "Growing quirks use a lot of energy. I read that in a book! Your body has to fuel the growth, so it takes calories and stamina and—"
"Deku, you're doing the info-dump thing again," Bakugo interrupted.
"Sorry!"
"Don't apologize! Just warn us first so we can prepare!"
"How do I warn you?"
"I don't know! Say 'info-dump incoming' or something!"
"That seems excessive."
"You're excessive!"
Haruto watched them argue with something like fondness. This was normal. Comfortable. Just three kids being kids, without the weight of future knowledge or the pressure of destiny.
"Hey," Bakugo said suddenly, looking at Haruto. "You're spacing out again."
"Sorry."
"Stop apologizing! It's your birthday! You can space out if you want!"
"Thanks for the permission."
"You're welcome!"
As the afternoon wore on, parents started saying their goodbyes. Mitsuki hugged Haruto with surprising gentleness.
"You're a good kid," she said. "Keep an eye on my brat, will you? He needs friends who don't just follow him around."
"I'll try."
"That's all anyone can ask."
The Bakugos left in their usual storm of noise and explosions—Bakugo had set off a small blast in excitement and nearly set off the building's fire alarm.
The Midoriyas stayed a bit longer, helping clean up.
"Thank you for inviting us," Inko said warmly. "Izuku had such a good time."
"Thank you for coming," Haruto's mother replied. "And for the lovely plant!"
"I hope Haru likes it!"
"I do," Haruto confirmed. "I'll take good care of it."
Izuku hugged him goodbye—a quick, slightly awkward hug that Haruto returned.
"Happy birthday, Haru-kun," Izuku said. "You're the best friend ever."
"You too, Izuku."
After everyone left, Haruto's parents collapsed on the couch.
"That went well," his father said.
"Surprisingly well," his mother agreed. "No disasters!"
"The bar is on the floor," Haruto observed.
"And yet we still celebrate clearing it," his father said. "That's parenthood."
Haruto took his new cherry tree sapling to the balcony and set it next to Gerald.
"New roommate," he told the fern.
It's very young, Gerald observed. Barely aware.
"Can you help me take care of it?"
Of course. That's what friends do.
"You keep saying that."
Because you keep needing reminding.
The sapling rustled softly, already responding to Haruto's presence. It didn't have words yet—too young, too new—but it radiated simple contentment.
Growing things are hopeful, Gerald said. They always believe they'll reach the sun.
"That's almost poetic."
I learned it from the bamboo.
"The bamboo garden?"
They sent their regards, by the way. Said you left quite an impression.
"I healed one rose."
One rose is enough to change a garden.
Haruto sat down, leaning against the balcony railing. The city stretched out before him, lights beginning to twinkle as evening approached.
Three years old now. Three years in this world.
"It's been a long three years," he said out loud.
And you have many more ahead, Gerald said. Pace yourself.
"I'm trying."
Try harder.
"Rude."
Honest.
Inside, his parents were talking about next year's birthday—already planning, already hopeful. Haruto listened to their voices, warm and familiar, and felt that contentment again.
It scared him a little, how easily it came now. How comfortable he was becoming with this life, these people, this strange second chance.
"Gerald?"
Yes?
"What if I'm not supposed to be comfortable here?"
Why wouldn't you be?
"Because I have things to do. Changes to make. And being comfortable might make me... forget. Or hesitate."
Or, Gerald suggested, being comfortable might give you something worth protecting.
Haruto thought about that. About Izuku's bright smile. Bakugo's competitive energy. His parents' love. Even Gerald's sassy wisdom.
"Maybe," he said.
Definitely, Gerald corrected. You can't protect something you don't care about.
"When did you get so wise?"
I told you. I'm very old for a fern.
"Six months."
Ancient.
Haruto smiled, watching the sunset paint the sky in oranges and pinks. Three years old. Three years of growth, learning, connection.
And maybe that was okay.
Maybe having something to protect made the protecting worth it.
Even if the methods were questionable.
Even if the future was uncertain.
For now, he had this. This moment. This peace. This family.
It would have to be enough.
"Thanks, Gerald," he said quietly.
Happy birthday, small human, Gerald replied. May you have many more.
"I'll try not to cause too many disasters in the meantime."
You'll fail, but I appreciate the effort.
"Rude."
Honest.
P.S:
From here on out!
The pacing will quickly be fast so be prepared to go to the real challenge!