Snowflakes dance in the shimmering sky, a choreographed ballet conducted by a gentle wind under the sun's spotlight. Steel gray clouds roll in the distance, coming to close the final curtain. Not before all of the sunlit glitter can descend and cover the stage though. The city, glistening windows illuminating the snowfall, tells the story of the play. In the end, the earth of yesterday is covered as white as any new page, marking the script's final chapter.
It's the holiday season. Parents rush from work to buy their children gifts with their day's hard earned money. Those same kids throw snowballs and sled down slopes in the areas unoccupied by adults. It's a wondrous sight to behold. Colored lights are strung between lampposts and traffic lights to make things all the more merry. It works. People are happy.
Izuku Midoriya walks along the sidewalk, boots crunching the ice beneath his footfalls, taking it all in. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his full length overcoat; the wool fabric is warming despite the bitter chill in the breeze. A green scarf is wrapped around his neck, pulled up past the point of his chin. The color compliments his hair and the black of his wintry jacket.
But the red of the rose he brandishes stands out the most. He cuts into a corner pocket, taking the alleyway separate from the sidewalk. Snow tries burying litter and trash, but the garbage still breaches the surface of white. Graffiti is glossed over with ice, but it's not washed away. The memory remains here, not so easily forgotten. Izuku bends a knee, crouching down at the exact spot of the alley that he lost his parents. He places the rose that he brought down, paying his respects.
A plane soars overhead, casting a winged shadow over the orphan as he honors his mother and father. He's reminded of Tomoko Shiretoko and how she caught a flight back to America. She'd tried convincing him of going with her. But this is his home. A black cat meows as it steps into the alley, paws sinking into the snow. The feline hops from there onto a window ledge and slinks away, tail flicking back and forth. The shadow of the aircraft leaving the city passes by, snowflakes floating down and dotting Izuku's coat.
He can see U.A from here. The prestigious hero school had somehow survived scandals and much more to remain open. But all thanks to the cooperation of its principal turning himself in. After his mistake with Katsuki Bakugo put a girl's life in danger, he surrendered peacefully. He deemed himself just as much a failure as he had considered the rest of hero society. Nezu confessed to his crimes and got Intelli her position back.
And now, the same girl that had been put in danger by the school is kept safe there. U.A reopened its dorming system and received better security from the tech department at Midoriya Enterprises. Thanks to a joint effort with the school, the company was able to recover its costs. The damage done with the money returned to those who had it stolen was reimbursed and covered. Funding to the hero school was back to an all time high with the support company backing its departments and vice versa.
It had also helped that Izuku sold his manor and resigned from his seat at the board of directors. It wasn't just a PR stunt, but a move he felt necessary after the revelations of his parents and the money that he inherited from them. He held a press conference and addressed all that had been disclosed to him by Commissioner Tsukauchi. It was time for him to relinquish control of his business and accept responsibility on his family's behalf. Because.. He still loves them despite what they did.
Izuku stares at the rose he put down, imagining it would be kept in a vase instead if his mother were still alive. Perhaps his father would have given her a whole bouquet instead. He misses them. He forgives them for what they did. And he'll continue to fight for them not for who they were, but what had happened to them. He rewrites his vows as he's showered by snow, the slate wiped clean.
The earpiece Izuku keeps on him beeps in his ear, alerting him to an incoming call. He wished not to be disturbed but accepts it anyways. Mainly, out of curiosity of who could be reaching out to him. It's not Kurogiri. He had relieved his caretaker of duty. After Nezu revealed to him his guardian was really just a Nomu made to be a butler, he decided to free Kurogiri of his slavery. Whoever the modified man was before and who he is now, he was now able to figure out for himself.
"Yes?", Izuku presses his index and middle finger to the communicator in his ear.
"Hey, Izuku", a voice he recognizes answers. One that brings him both joy and pain.
"Melissa", he can already envision the blonde now. Except, what he sees, is the woman he allowed to be put in a wheelchair for the rest of her life. He closes his eyes, trying to black out the mental image. He sees what his childhood friend had become instead, the one who had put her in the wheelchair. Izuku opens his eyes, preferring to see anyone other than that.
"Do you have any plans to celebrate?", Melissa sounds hopeful though. It could just be the time of the year, but he hopes that her tone is an indication that she's on the right track to recovery.
Even so, he has to turn her down. He shakes his head. Then remembers she can't see him. "I'm not very used to celebrating..", he looks down the alley and remembers the night he lost his childhood cheer for holidays.
"Come on. It's the holidays. You have to", but Melissa doesn't let it go. She urges him on as his eyes land back on the rose that's being specked with snowflakes. "You shouldn't spend the day alone", the flower is almost buried in the snow like the trash.
"I won't..", Izuku whispers. He looks up at the sky. The gray clouds that had been distant before are now beginning to block out the sun. Soon, bats will be leaving their caves to hunt during the night. "I have another reason to celebrate", he blinks when he feels his eyes becoming moist.
"Oh?", and Melissa hears the crack in his voice to know he means what he's saying.
"Last night was the first time in fifty four years without violent crimes", Izuku allows tears to roll down his cheeks as he watches the first of the city's bats take to the snowy sky.