Midoriya's thoughts melted from his brain. All Might had stumped him.

"He… He's not going home? Well, then where is he going?"

Toshinori nudged Todoroki's door.

"He'll be staying here."

Midoriya's eyes crossed.

"By himself?"

"Mr. Aizawa and I will be keeping him a close eye on him, don't you worry."

The student looked down. Hurt laced his expression.

"I… It's just that it's Christmas. His mother. His siblings. What—"

"I don't have details, son," All Might hushed, kneeling down, "But I can assure you he'll be alright."

Midoriya looked into All Might's blue eyes. The man really did have a talent: a talent for making things seem alright. Even when they weren't.

"Now," the hero nodded, "If you'll excuse me, these coffees are getting cold. Mr. Aizawa's a stickler for a good cup of joe."

Midoriya noticed his mentor's hands were full. He pulled the door open, looking up to see that All Might had stopped halfway through.

"Young man—"

Midoriya swallowed hard. "Yes?

"It will all be okay. You know that. Don't you?"

He looked down. He couldn't look All Might in the face and lie.

"I know, All Might."

Gently, the door shut. The darkness of the room was starting to lighten, with a creak of sun shining through. Now that thing's were calm, Toshinori was able to take in the culture of Todoroki's space.

"Very Japanese," he admired vocally, "Just noticed that."

Not particularly caring, a blurry-eyed Aizawa reached out for his morning brew.

Aizawa grumbled, "Took you long enough."

"Oh, you're welcome," All Might's sardonic tone was ringing through, "Really, it's no trouble. Seriously, though, you take it black?

Pressing the plastic lid to his lips, a deep inhale permeated Aizawa's nostrils.

"I take it strong," he breathed out.

A light snort of Todoroki's slumber interrupted his moment of tranquility. Sipping his own cup with his right hand, Toshinori felt the boy's forehead with his left.

"Speaking of which," he noted, "How's our trooper doing?"

"Not much change," Aizawa droned, "Sweating like a beast, though."

Toshinori nodded. "Fever must be breaking… Finally."

"Let's hope so."

Aizawa cradled the travel mug in his hands. It was warm, though not too warm. It reminded him of Todoroki's fit: how the flames, though wild and thrashing, stoked the room like a campfire. All Might, too, felt the heat of the beverage through his bandages.

"Toshinori…"

He looked to his comrade. Red eyes glued to the snoring teen.

"What do you think happened to him?"

All Might harumphed.

"Aren't we the Chatty Kathy," he jested, "'Thought you didn't want to talk about it."

"I don't. I just… Well, you know that guy."

"We're not exactly friends, if that's what you mean."

Aizawa's brow softened for only a moment. Hot breath peeled out of him.

"He's just so big. Way bigger than… What did the boy do last Christmas? The Christmas before that? Where did he go?"

Before Toshinori could even entertain an answer, Aizawa pressed on almost fitfully.

"You should've seen him when he came to my office a few days ago. He was almost desperate not to go home."

Toshinori clapped Aizawa's shoulder. It was strange to him – that Shota had not swatted the gesture away.

"What matters," All Might insisted, "Is he's here now. We're not going to let anything bad happen to young Todoroki."

"And I can control that," Aizawa yearned, "When he's here… I can protect him. Not out there. Not from him."

All Might stared at the low bed. Todoroki looked so peaceful in this moment. He was sure peace was not something the boy came upon often. The Symbol of Peace struggled to find words to console his colleague's thoughts. He breathed out.

"Well, look on the bright side. At least he'll have a safe Christmas for a change. That's all we can give him, for now."

Aizawa blinked.

"'All we can give'. Still doesn't feel like enough."

"For him," All Might replied, "It's more than enough."

Toshinori sipped at his coffee again.

"'Bet the other students will miss him, though."

Aizawa's brow crinkled. "How do you mean?"

"Well, it's just… They're going home. Young Todoroki will be here."

Aizawa sneered.

"Which is none of their concern."

All Might gulped.

"W-what? I—"

Aizawa groaned, lowering his head.

"All Might? What did you do?"

Toshinori's arms flapped. "Well, I didn't know his staying here was a secret!"

Aizawa shot up in the chair.

"Again," he bellowed, "Three words for you: 'Student'. 'Teacher'. 'Confidentiality'. Have you even looked at a book on education theory?"

Toshinori's cheeks burned.

"I-I'm sorry."

"So, you admit it. You told the students?!"

All Might rubbed the back of his neck.

"Just… one."

Aizawa crossed his arms.

"'Bet I can guess which one," sarcasm laced his own tongue.

"Look," All Might demanded, "Don't get yourself worked up. Young Midoriya was a bit upset, sure, but I'll bet he's practically forgotten about it now."

"That kid doesn't 'forget'," Aizawa snapped, "He's smart. And he's impulsive. Too smart and impulsive for his own good, sometimes."

"Really, Shota," Toshinori pressed, "You're fretting too much, here."

Again, he flashed his best 'everything will be okay' smile.

"It's nothing."

"We have to do something!"

Midoriya's followed Kirishima, Iida, and Uraraka like a shadow. Alarm was in each stride.

"Wait, wait, wait," Iida tutted, "Midoriya, what are you saying?"

Kirishima quirked a stiff eyebrow.

"The dude's gonna stay at U.A.? For Christmas? But why?"

"I don't know, he… He asked Aizawa if he could, but—"

"So," Bakugo scoffed, "You're saying it was frickin' Icy-Hot's choice, then?"

"Kacchan," Midoriya stuttered, "I-it's not like that. I mean, yes. Yes, he chose to stay, but… Are we really just gonna leave him here?"

Bakugo waved the teen off.

"Psh. Sounds like you're getting everyone worked up for nothing, ya damn clown."

Uraraka frowned.

"I see what you mean, Deku! It'll be lonely for him here with just the teachers!"

"That's right, Uraraka," the freckled boy nodded, "Plus, he's already pretty sick. And i-it's Christmas, for crying out loud."

Midoriya scratched his chin. Almost obnoxiously, he shook Iida's arms.

"We… we should all stay!"

Iida's glasses slid down his nose, his surprised face contorting.

"What?!"

Jiro scoffed at the kitchen nook. "Not happening, man. My parents would flip!"

"Mine too!" Kaminari chimed in, his mouth full of French Toast.

Rikido's expression looked almost panicked.

"Who knows what my mom is cooking up. I love her, but she's a terrible chef… I have to save Christmas dinner!"

More disagreeable rumblings came from the 1A students. Midoriya's brow furrowed. It was his turn to stand on the chair and address his classmates.

"I get it."

Midoriya's voice could only be so loud, but he spoke to everyone in the common room who would listen.

"I get it, okay? Christmas. It's a big deal, right? A time for giving, and caring. And family. Family… that's a big one. Well, I don't know about you guys, but… I consider Class 1A family. All of you!"

"Leave me outta this,"Bakugo hollered.

"Even Kacchan!" Midoriya continued, "Think about it. Think about everything we've gone through together. The Sports Festival? U.S.J.? Last summer's training camp? C'mon – how do you go through something like that together and not leave closer? Whether we like it or not, we are a weird, loud, crazy… strong family."

A quiet, intent ribbit came out of Asui. Even Koda hummed a bit as he listened.

"Right now," Midoriya's voice cracked out, "A member of our family is sick. And alone. Christmas is about family. And I know it's a lot to ask, but – what if our family spent this one together? I know my mom will be pretty sad. It's just us at home… But I think she'd understand. And I'm sure, your parents and cousins and aunts and – well, whoever – will understand, too."

The class turned their heads at a snotty sniffle. Kirishima's eyes were striped with tear strands.

"Th-the man's right," he sobbed, "Y-you're right, Midoriya!"

Smiling, Midoriya acknowledged his friend's sentiments. He turned to the rest of his classmates.

"So… whaddya say?"

Slow, condescending claps came from behind him. Aizawa's firm hands gratingly applauded his pupil.

"Excellent speech, Midoriya," he droned, "You've a fair shot at Second-Year Class Representative with those skills. That is, if you haven't been expelled by then."

Like a rain cloud, Aizawa blew through the room.

"Let me make this perfectly clear," the teacher admonished, pointing upward.

"That clock will reach fifteen-hundred hours. And when it does, this room will be spotless, your bags will be packed, and you will be leaving U.A. for Christmas break. Even if you need to be rendered temporarily quirkless to do it."

A stiff hush fell over the room. Midoriya's once confident voice squeaked out.

"B-but Todoroki-

"Will be staying here," Aizawa declared, "Though, frankly, it's none of your concern. A decision he made, in the appropriate way, for appropriate reasons. Which I am not at liberty to discuss."

Red, droning eyes peered around the common room. He had a disgusted look on his face.

"Clean this place up."

Quietly, a few students began to grab at some pillows and blankets. Midoriya was not one of them. He squinted at his teacher.

"Mr. Aizawa—"

"Fifteen-hundred hours, Midoriya."

His back turned to his pupil.

"I suggest you get started."

Aizawa's words chilled him. Midoriya's tearing eyes welled up at his mentor.

"All Might…?"

The former pro bowed his head.

"Sorry, kid," the former pro sighed, "Not my call."

Defeated, Midoriya picked up and sloppily folded a baby blue bedsheet. Uraraka and Iida watched, perplexed. They turned to find the shadow of their homeroom instructor zipping from sight. They turned back to their green-haired friend.

"Deku?" Uraraka cooed, "Now what?"

Midoriya's response was stiff. "We clean up. Like Mr. Aizawa said."

"No, not that," Iida added, "W-what are going to do to change his mind?"

"Nothing."

Iida adjusted his glasses at the flat reply. "Sorry, what was that?"

"Nothing," Izuku repeated, "He said 'no'. We all heard him. It's over."

Uraraka chimed brightly, "But if we try again—"

"There is no trying again, guys. It's over."

His low, sad eyes barely glanced over to the direction of the dormitories.

'I tried, Todoroki. I tried.'

Aizawa's stare was fixed. His path to Todoroki's room took only seconds, he was marching so resolutely. When he entered the doorway, Aizawa was startled by a harsh thud to his shoulder.

"Hey. What—"

"They weren't asking for much, y'know."

All Might planted himself in the armchair. His eyes averted from his colleague. He struggled to keep his booming voice low, for the teen's sake.

"'Just not sure what the big deal is."

All Might slurped from his mug. It was painstakingly sluggish. Aizawa gritted his teeth. His hair stood on end.

"You," he asserted, trying to keep his own livid voice down, "Have no right."

All Might tiredly turned his head. Aizawa's pointed finger grazed the tip of Toshinori's nose. He calmly pushed the hand from his face.

"Shota," he stated, trying to remain level, "I know you want to do the right thing here. And I know you're thinking of all the things that could go wrong."

He looked his colleague in his wide, red eyes.

"Have you stopped to think of what could go right?"

Aizawa froze. Toshinori jumped as the man whipped his body away from him. Frantically, Aizawa crouched down to Todoroki's nightstand. He mumbled into the drawer as he fished through it.

"C'mon, he's gotta have one in here…"

Scared to ask, All Might sipped at his coffee placidly. Aizawa grabbed his head and lashed back around.

"Do you mind?!"

"No," Toshinori shrugged, shutting his eyes, "Please, don't stop on my account."

A low growl rumbled in Aizawa's throat. More rummaging ensued. His tight shoulders straightened, grabbing at the item he sought.

"Here," he hummed to himself.

Toshinori squinted. It was some beat up, old-looking red book. He tried to get a good look at the cover page, but Aizawa's mad page-turning made that all but impossible. All Might was scared to speak, so he let his colleague continue his furious work.

"There's gotta be… I know it… It's somewhere… Here."

Aizawa's thumb pressed down the corner of the book's page before he shut it. He started swatting at his own hip bone.

"Damn," he grumbled again, "'Left it in the office."

He looked up to Toshinori. There was no honey in his tone.

"Let me use your phone."

All Might, not wanting to press any further, took his phone from his suit pocket and handed it off to Aizawa. He thanklessly grabbed it, flipping through the phone's contacts. Again, his thumb pressed down on the 'call' button. He muttered into the transmitter.

"C'mon… Pick up…"

Still, Toshinori watched Aizawa's fit. There was intention to what he was doing. He just didn't know what. Again, he flinched at sharp Aizawa's greeting when the call connected.

"Hello… Principal Nezu? Yes… No, it's Eraserhead… All's fine, yes… Well, I'd like your permission on something, sir…"

All Might grinned. He looked to Todoroki.

'Looks like you might be spending Christmas with some friends, kid.'

Shoji clapped his massive hands.

"All done," he remarked.

The common room was officially cleared of the sleepover set-up. Though they'd accomplished their task, everybody had a bit of a frown on their face. None were deeper than Midoriya's. His whole body sank into the empty couch. The teen was so sucked into the cushions, he could barely flinch at the appearance of a black shadow. It belonged to Mr. Aizawa, who was hovering over him. Izuku's forehead dribbled as he looked up.

'Oh, crap. What did you do now, Deku?'

Noticing the teacher's fist was clenched, he sauntered to the center of the room. He stopped in front of the coffee table. A deep breath drew a gust of air, as well as the students' attention.

"Oh, look," he stated, almost rehearsed, "An important piece of paper. 'Better not lose this… Whoops."

Releasing his fist, the mysterious crumbled document trounced to the coffee table. Aizawa wasted no time, turning his back. Other than that, he did not move an inch.

Cautiously, Midoriya grabbed at it. He peeled back the layers of the paper, careful not to rip it. Iida sprinted to his friend's side.

"What is it?"

Midoriya studied the yellow, tarnished document.

"It… It's a page. From the U.A. School Handbook."

Uraraka sat down next to him.

"What's it say?"

Midoriya cleared his throat as he read the policy aloud.

"'During all federal and state holidays, U.A. shall remained closed and vacant of campus activity, class work, and residency'."

"What's he trying to do," Iida jeered, "Rub it in?"

Still, Aizawa did not move. Midoriya looked up.

"'However'," Midoriya continued, "'Students - permitting verbal parental/guardianship consent - are afforded the option to remain on U.A.'s campus residency through federal and state holiday recess: so long as a minimum of two (2) full-time professors, administrators, or authorized personnel members of U.A.'s leadership team are present to supervise said residents'."

Uraraka beamed, realization setting in.

"So… this means—"

"We can stay?!" Iida exclaimed.

"We can stay," Izuku whispered, "We can stay! But…"

Aizawa's back remained turned.

"If I don't hear from everybody's parents by fifteen-hundred hours, deal's off."

Midoriya's green eyes teared up. Aizawa's expression remained firm.

"I suggest you get started. I—"

Aizawa stopped short. Midoriya didn't wait to question if it was appropriate. He hugged the teacher's torso. His voice wobbled.

"Th…thank you."

"Get to it, Problem Child," Aizawa asserted, peeling the pupil from his grip.

The instructor waved off, waltzing back to Todoroki's dorm.

"You know where I'll be."

Midoriya's forearm swiped his eyes. He turned the stove clock. 7:23.

'We've got time,' he thought, 'But we have to be quick.'

Iida and Uraraka grinned to their friend. Midoriya clenched his own fist resolutely.

"Let's get to work…"