A/N: Hey guys, welcome to the very first chapter of "Rubber Band Theory". I wanted to post this chapter before Christmas, but I've been so busy with work and picking up gifts for my nieces and nephews, my brother and sisters, too, that I kind of been lagging behind on updating the "CHAOTIC" story. Anyway, I wanted to get this out because everyone needs a break from the angst of the main fic. Now take this fluff and be sure to get yourself a hot cup of cocoa/tea/whatever beverage you drink that keeps you warm, and enjoy a face full of Dadmight feels!

p.s.

I'm also gonna try a little experiment on third person POV (although, this whole thing seems to be mostly told through Toshinori's POV).

MERRY CHRISTMAS, YA'LL!

AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR~!

Disclaimer: Boku no/My Hero Academia belongs to Kohei Horikoshi, my only claim is my own original character(s)!

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Christmas

(Two Months before the U.A. Entrance Exams)

.

"Happy Birthday and Merry Christmas, young man!"

Kuzan was in the middle of taking a sip from his water bottle when the number one hero of Japan cheerily bombarded him with an unexpected gift. Once the words registered, his tangerine eyes flickered downward to spot a colorfully wrapped present pointedly shoved in his direction. With its red, white, blue, and yellow tones printed upon the gift wrapping paper, it was no secret who it boldly paid homage to. There was even a bouncy-looking golden bow sporting twin antennas at the top of the rectangular-shaped gift.

Truthfully, this wouldn't have happened had no one told Toshinori about his successor's birthday.

He only discovered it a couple of days ago when he had been out on a walk through the shopping districts (he was careful not to call them patrols because he knew Shūzenji would find out and she'd give him an earful the next time she saw him). The daylight hours became shorter and the shopping plazas became increasingly busy as the holidays started to come closer.

Toshinori was barely stepping away from a window displaying vintage toys like trains and rocking horses when a voice called out to him. He slowed his step, unsure is he was mishearing things since it really was full of late Christmas shoppers, yet there came a second call of his name from the river of moving bodies. Coming to a halt, he started to look around the area.

Briefly, he wondered if he accidentally buffed up in his All Might. After all, there was no reason for anyone to approach him while he looked like some misplaced Halloween decoration. His thoughts banished when he spotted a waving arm which he saw belonged to a familiar-looking individual he met some time ago. They made their way through the crowd, eager to reach him.

"Hey there!" the nurse greeted him with a bright and cheery smile once she was close to his hearing range. "I don't know if you remember, but we met at the—"

"The hospital." Toshinori easily recalled the young catgirl who looked after his successor. He offered a small smile. "Nurse Jinchōge. Of course I remember you."

This rewarded him a grin.

"I've been wanting to meet you, but, well, you left the hospital before I had the chance to talk to you."

Toshinori blinked, puzzled by the girl's sudden interest in him. The confusion on his face must've been so obvious because the girl released a small huff of laughter, her mitted hand coming to rest over her hips.

"Oh c'mon. If you really know Kuzan, you'd know why everyone is so curious about you."

"Ah." Toshinori suddenly understood. "He's quite a sour wolf, isn't he?"

There was a pause.

The pro hero wondered if his little joke on their mutual friend's aloof attitude had somehow been seen as offensive. Before he could back track or offer any apologies, the girl amazingly seemed to glow from his words alone. It was there that he was struck with the realization that this meeting of theirs seemed to be more out of curiosity than out of politeness. Common ground established between the two of them, conversation began to flow more smoothly.

The whole thing felt oddly intimate to him.

"I don't know why," Jinchōge shook her head. "It's like even though his words should normally turn you away, his actions kind of pull you in further instead. Isn't that weird?"

"Not really." Toshinori said. "I met people like that when I was in America. They're absolutely vulgar, but they mean well."

Despite having spent the majority of his life growing up in Japan, the boy still acted in a way that utterly clashed with the standard norm. If not for the appearance he inherited from his father, a lot of people would've mistaken the young man for a foreigner. However, to be fair, the fault did not lie at Kuzan's feet for dismissing the culture and traditions, but rather on the people of said culture and traditions.

One time, the teen had given the older man a confused look when Toshinori tried to dismiss him early because of the upcoming festival that was about to roll around later in the evening. Kuzan left him gobsmacked when the boy explained to him that he didn't celebrate such things besides the occasional birthday and western holiday (and even those were rarer than a blue moon).

"Must be a gaijin thing." Jinchōge murmured out loud.

"He's his mother's son."

It was obvious since day one. After witnessing how physically affectionate Dr. Sengoku was of her son (who by no means denied her warm embrace and touch), it became clear to him that the mother was the dominant parent in the household. It explained a lot about his student, taking into account how Kuzan didn't become flushed with embarrassment from the casual touches when he was hugged or ruffled on the head. The kid got hugged (and kissed) on a daily basis that he didn't flinch from Toshinori's touch.

Even as All Might, the older man had to be careful with his touches, making sure not to last longer than a few seconds since it was seen as too intimate in Japan's standards. He was only able to get away with it due to his high popularity and the adoration of his fans because they knew he was fond of most things western.

But all in all, All Might did have a limit.

Yet shockingly enough, Kuzan wasn't one to shy away or get flustered by close proximity. There was time when it was Kuzan who initiated contact first; his shoulder gently brushing against Toshinori's side when they walked down the streets while bantering with each other, or when the kid's thigh knocked into his knee when he wanted his attention.

It rendered the Pro hero speechless when the boy didn't bat an eyelash at the small peck his mother gave to his cheek or forehead, said nothing about his personal space being invaded when his mother nuzzled the crown of his dark hair, nor did he try to pull away in embarrassment because his parent wanted to hold his scarred hands. His father Enzō was careful with the PDA, but even the detective wasn't able to hold himself back in showing his own physical affections by rubbing his hand at some obscured spot on the back of his son's neck.

This revaluation clashed against the image the boy constantly projected to others, making others assume he was this seemingly unapproachable character. It was both sad and horrible to find how a lot of people could dismiss someone because they made their judgement based on appearance alone, but he supposed that was the point of Kuzan's actions. It was the boy's defense mechanism, his armor, sword, and shield against the rest of the world whenever he walked outside.

Whatever, Toshinori thought, that was on them.

Besides, there was something joyful in getting to hear the kid grouch whenever the blond ruffled his head now and then. It only made the older man smile more when the boy did nothing to stop him.

Grete, who had been appropriately suspicious of the stranger wanting to see her son, was astonished to discover that Toshinori was the very same man who Kuzan met at the grocery store (which led to another terrifying confrontation where he was told for the nth time that coughing up blood wasn't suppose to be considered normal). It was only after a few conversations, along with observing her son's open and welcoming demeanor to his presence, that he was finally given the official stamp of approval. Enzō was still a bit leery of him, watching Toshinori carefully despite his wife and son assuring him that the older man meant no harm, but nobody could fault the father for wanting to look out for his family.

"Brrr! So cold~!" the nurse shuddered as she rubbed her shoulders. "I should've shopped earlier for the brat's present rather than wait until late in the afternoon."

"You poor thing," Toshinori chuckled. "What are you getting him? An ugly sweater?"

For all the shit and verbal abuse he got for wearing his golden pinstripe suit (given to him by Nedzu, might he add), it would be the perfect retaliation to receive something as equally atrocious in return. Feeling a little inspired now that it was in his mind, Toshinori wanted to find the tackiest Christmas-themed store he could find so that he would come upon a mountain of the gaudiest-looking sweaters to repel even the jolliest of holiday lovers.

The Pro hero was pulled out of his diabolical musings when Jinchōge gave him an odd look. It only lasted for a few seconds when realization seemed to morph around her features, her mouth shaped into a small "oh".

"He didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

His question caused the catgirl to release a small exasperated sigh; the woman's slitted eyes glazed over, face pointed towards the distance where it almost appeared as if she was trying to astral project her disappointment to the absent individual. Toshinori wondered if the young catgirl truly had the powerful means to pull off such a thing. He was however glad that her formidable ire was not aimed towards his direction.

"It's a bit late to celebrate it because of how busy we are at the hospital, but..." the nurse turned to him. "Kuzan just turned fifteen."

Fast forward to the present (the stunned silence, the horror of coming up empty-handed to his student, the need to find the perfect gift—), Toshinori had called out his young companion to join him for a simple walk around the streets of the glittering city. Kuzan, thinking it was another simple evening of spending some quality time with the Pro hero after a long day of work/school, thought nothing more as he obediently gathered his warm clothes and followed Toshinori out the door.

With a wave to the doctor who watched them go, the pair headed out to the quiet but illuminated streets.

It was when they paused outside of a convenience store so Kuzan could buy himself a water bottle (because he forgot his back at home) that Toshinori sprung his surprise birthday present towards the unsuspecting teenager.

And yet, the boy did not take the gift from his hands.

Slowly, Toshinori's bright smile began to wilt as the silence started to stretch on.

"Ah... I'm—" Sorry?

The boy blinked, his eyes coming back to focus like camera lenses adjusting to the image.

"Who told you about my birthday?" Kuzan wondered out loud.

Suddenly, the boy was looking at him, his gaze intense enough to burn a hole through the hero's forehead if he had the power to do so.

"Did you pull some high authority shit where you summon someone's personal files at the snap of your fingers and nobody would question you about it?"

How was he asking him with such a straight face?!

"Wai—What?!" Toshinori immediately sputtered. "I did no such thing! And of course people would question me if I did something like that!"

"That sounded a lot like an admission to me, you stalker."

The Pro hero was hit was a strong urge to bash the kid's face with his own present still sitting in Toshinori's hands, but the older man stopped himself from following through with the act when he remembered that physical attacks did absolutely nothing to the little mouthy brat. Stupid rubber quirk. Instead, he settled on giving the youth a baleful look. After a few seconds of giving each other the stink eye, Kuzan's attention fell back to the present still waiting in the older man's hands. A small frown made its way to the boy's face.

"I didn't get you a present."

"Do you watch the holiday channels by chance? Lots of people like to send their gifts to Might Tower, and as much as I appreciate it, I mostly send the majority of the presents to charity and other people just so they could have something special."

"Like playing Secret Santa?"

"Something like that." Toshinori nodded. "I wish you told me about your birthday. I'm sorry I was so busy with work that I didn't think to ask."

Kuzan answered him with a nonchalant shrug.

"Heroes are the busiest during this time because people become greater targets for carrying money on them when they go shopping for presents. How can anyone be selfish in demanding your attention on them? You're just doing your job, man."

The way he worded it, it sounded like the boy was used to explaining why he shouldn't be upset when someone put their job before their personal lives. Toshinori was then reminded of nurse Jinchōge's word, the hospital being incredibly busy because of drunk drivers heading home after Christmas parties, mugged victims who were taken by surprise by the shadowy predators waiting to strike, and other ice related accidents. Dr. Sengoku had to have been busy, working hours each day during the holidays. And there was of course Enzō and the robust hero Fat Gum to consider (honestly, discovering that Fat Gum was related to the Sengoku's was a bit of a shocker, but the blond could understand why everyone wanted to keep the news under wraps).

"You can always make a resolution on New Years." Toshinori suggested while bringing up the present again. "Resolutions are suppose to be like promises, so do that and stick to it. I like it when somebody makes a promise and keeps it."

"That's so corny," Kuzan shook his head. "Of course you would say that. You're fucking All Might."

The older man only shrugged.

Kuzan could go ahead and call it corny, but there was something about a person making a declaration of intent then following through with their commitment that truly ignited inspiration in the Pro hero. Many years ago, back when he was just a kid around his successor's age, Toshinori made a promise to not only himself but his teacher, along with everyone else, that he would become the symbol to pave the way towards an era of peace.

Nothing was perfect, there was still so much to fix, but they all had done their best to make their society as it was now. Life was harsh yet the older man was still able to see people smiling as they went about their day.

He was broken out of his musings when he felt the weight in his arms disappear. He frantically thought for a moment that it had slipped out of his hands, but looking down he merely found it was just Kuzan picking up the wrapped present. With great care, the teen peeled away the wrap from the seal areas, slowly undoing the work of the gift wrapper who Toshinori hired (because he was shit at wrapping presents).

The kid paused when he saw the bold logo staring back at him.

"You got me Nike shoes?"

The older man gave a pointed look down between them, towards the teen's current footwear.

"It's all I ever see you wear. You do like these, right?"

"Yeah, I do." Kuzan opened the box to inspect the shoes. "My grandma sometimes will send some over from Denmark, along with some money to put into my allowance."

Normally, it was around this time when children as old as Kuzan needed to go out and get a small time job so they could learn the ropes of responsibility. It would be a few years until they became full-grown adults, and they needed to learn how to manage themselves while earning their keep before moving out of their family homes to pursue their own path in adult life... but who would be willing to hire Aksel Gunnarsen's grandchild?

It was thanks to his grandmother, parents, and cousin that the kid was allowed to have little things without being cheated off of his money by cruel store owners.

Only eating food when it was homemade or bought by trustworthy people, shopping at crap stores, dodging heavily-populated areas, skipping out national holidays, oblivious to cultural customs and traditions, socially awkward when not confronted by aggressive individuals, and now facing possibilities of homelessness because no one wanted to hire him?

There was a migraine beginning to form at the fore front of his head.

"Alright." Kuzan spoke up as he closed the box. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"Say, All Might? Do you have somewhere to be on New Years?"

There was an upcoming gala he was invited to attend as All Might.

Endeavor, Best Jeanist, Hawks, Miruko, and several other top heroes would be going to rub elbows with several high key donors that wanted to chat and meet their heroes up close and personal. It was also a party where Toshinori took opportunity to slowly ease the wealthy men and women into donating their money for the companies that needed help in keeping their programs running. He was sure the other heroes were doing exactly the same, Miruko giving tight smiles as she laughed until the end of the night where she would rip off her dress and hop on off into the night.

Yet what the boy was offering wasn't some big, fancy party taking place inside a rented ritzy hotel, no expensive champagne or tiny plates of barely edible snacks to chew on, no forced conversations or fake laughter.

What was waiting for the Pro hero was an open house full of warmth, a kitchen that smelled of heavenly grounded coffee and assorted cream to make the dark cup blossom into a caramel brown, various dishes that he could safely consume, and insults thrown around the table to get reactions from the other person.

"I don't think there's anywhere else I'd rather be, young man."

Relief bloomed in Kuzan's eyes, and Toshinori felt something in his chest clench from the sight.

In all the time he's known the dark-haired boy, he'd never seen Kuzan actually smile.

There was the cruel twist of his lips when he was in the midst of mocking and taunting someone into submission, the disturbing grins that showed his teeth like a dog would bare it's snarling fangs, and the occasional mad cackle that was anything but happy and joyful—yet no gentle curve at the corner of his lips that spoke of honest content.

It was all in the eyes, the older man observed, they were the ones that spoke the most about Kuzan. They danced a little when he told a corny joke, were full of mirth when Toshinori told a really one, dulled a little as if detaching himself from reality, burned brightly when he was enraged, and tried to blink away the glimmer when sorrow overtook him.

One day, Toshinori thought to himself, he was going to get Kuzan to smile for real.

"Let's get outta here," the boy shook his shoulder to shake off the chills settling into his bones. "Standing still for so long will turn us into a pair of frozen popsicles."

"Did you know that All Might-themed popsicles are more popular during this season? It's weird."

"Not really. A bunch of girls purposefully get their tongues frozen from wanting to lick your juicy face."

"What?! No way, you're making that up!"

"No, it's true. One time when I passing by a college campus, I saw these college girls doing it."

"... Oh my goodness."

"It was kinda hot to watch."

"Stop. Please stop."

"With their tongues stuck to the—"

"BE QUIET!"