Title: lucky

A/N: For the One In a Million zine, where I got to write my favourite bnha ship! I wanted to do a soft future fic.

Summary: Mirio had not never realized how lucky he was till Nejire and Tamaki walked through the front door, tired smiles on their faces. Perhaps there was something to domestic bliss after all.

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The doorbell rang and—dazed—Mirio stared at his textbook as he processed the sound. Was it that late already? He glanced at his phone, at the black digits barely visible over the picture of Tamaki, Nejire, and himself. 6:00pm. Looking outside the window confirmed it: already the sun was starting to set, the apartment swathed in a golden light.

Nejire and Tamaki would be home soon. No, scratch that, they were already home; that was a doorbell he'd just heard. Shooting up, he scrambled from the dining table and hurried to the door. It was too late; a second ring followed the first, and a third shortly after.

"Coming!" He called out as he reached the entrance. A soft click and he swung the door open. "Sorry, I was studying."

Outside, he was greeted with the tableau of his two partners. Nejire's finger hovered over the bell. Tamaki's expression was panicked, trying to get her to stop. Despite it being spring, it still wasn't warm yet and the pair were bundled up in winter jackets and hats. Underneath it all, he was sure they still had their work clothes on, their street clothes neatly folded in the cloth bags they carried.

"Mirio!" Nejire pressed the bell anyways before leaping forward and hugging him. He stumbled backwards, only able to keep his balance because he'd braced for it against the wall. "You took so long!"

"Sorry!" Tamaki mumbled, following her in. He fiddled with his fingers. "I tried to stop her."

"It's alright." Mirio chuckled, straightening his posture as he adjusted to Nejire's weight. Keeping one arm wrapped around her waist, he reached out and pulled Tamaki closer. "I wasn't paying attention to the time."

Nejire pulled back, a smirk on her face. "Fell asleep studying?"

Mirio grimaced. "Almost." Whoever wrote textbooks did it with the intent to confuse and put to sleep. He wasn't sure how he was going to make it through his class, let alone get his degree. Maybe he could get Tamaki to help out later. Nejire, for all her enthusiasm, was the worst studying partner. "But I made it through."

"Good." Nejire leaned forward and gave him a sloppy kiss.

Mirio laughed, holding her tight. When she pulled back, he grinned. "Thanks for the praise." Turning to a now red Tamaki, he kissed him softly. "How was today?"

"Great!" Nejire finally let go of him. Sitting down to take off her shoes, she rambled, "Hey, hey, I managed to catch three villains today."

A very flushed Tamaki scooched back after Mirio released him, pulling his hat further down his head. "She did a lot today," he added, still breathless. Coughing, he cleared his throat and continued, "She was almost everywhere."

"I just felt it today." Nejire interlaced her fingers and stretched her arms in front of her. There was a soft pop as her body stretched. "Like today was my day. Hey, hey, maybe I saw the future?"

"Or woke up on the right side of the bed?" Mirio ruffled her hair affectionately. With the way she'd bounced out of bed this morning, he wasn't surprised. Still, with her powers, the drain from overusing them was more prominent than theirs. "Did you use too much energy?"

"Well…" she trailed off, scratching her cheek sheepishly.

"I made sure she took a nap," Tamaki softly interjected, standing up. Mirio could only imagine how hard that must have been. Nejire was a free spirit and it was hard to keep her grounded sometimes. "And gave her some energy drinks."

"I slept on his lap!" Nejire added cheerfully, getting up too. When Tamaki made a garbled, flustered sound, she leapt onto his back and looped her arms around his neck. She pressed her cheek against his. "Thanks!"

Tamaki almost fell over at the unexpected weight. "I-it's nothing," he managed to reply, slowly straightening his posture. When she didn't get off, he added, "I'm changing."

"Me too." Nejire sat up slightly and pointed ahead. "Let's go!"

"What?" Troubled, Tamaki's brow knit before he sighed and gave in. Wrapping his arms around her legs to secure her, he headed toward their bedroom.

Mirio chuckled as he watched them leave. The apartment felt dead when they were gone, the silence too pervading. It was like all of the colour had disappeared until the doorbell rang. Turning around, he neatly placed Nejire's hastily removed shoes onto the shoe rack and picked up their forgotten bags.

Honestly, he was a lucky man. He had not one but two loves of his life, two people who filled his heart to the brim. They came home safely every day, with nothing worse than a broken limb to worry about. His university was a good one—and only ten minutes away—so he could always get home first and get dinner started. Financially, they weren't struggling. All in all, he had nothing to complain about.

All in all, he had no reason to feel a pang of envy every time they talked about fighting villains and helping little old ladies across the street. One day, Eri would return his powers to him. Even if she didn't, there were other professions, other ways to be a hero—doctors, cops, firefighters. Even without his quirk, Mirio could make the world better.

Sir's voice had been strong, almost insistent when he'd declared, you'll be a hero. As though he was fighting the future, trying to reshape the course of reality one last time. Had it been a lie? A wish? Mirio tried not to think too deeply about that final moment, about his weak grip, about his tired eyes.

One day, he'd be able to move past this. Maybe even laugh at this jealousy that filled him. Maybe not today, but one day.

"Something smells good!" Nejire declared, padding out of the living room.

Mirio forced himself out of his stupor. Dumping his partners' bags onto the dining table next to his textbooks, he hurriedly entered the kitchen. He'd almost forgotten about dinner. While the stove's temperature was low, he still had to stir the pot every now and then.

"Ohh! That's a big pot!" Nejire peeked into the kitchen. As usual, she was dressed in an oversized flannel, her go-to comfort clothing in winter. Behind her, Tamaki was dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt and Mirio felt a burst of pride in that. It had taken months before Tamaki had gotten comfortable enough to ditch the hoodies and hats at home. Now, he sometimes went out on dates without them.

"One of my classmates gave me a new recipe and I wanted to try it," Mirio explained. There was a soft clink as he picked up the metal lid and invited her over to look. "It's called chili."

"Chili?" Nejire asked, raising a brow. She sniffed lightly and licked her lips. "Hey, hey, that smells great!"

"It's an American dish," Tamaki added, leaning around her shoulder to look too. Breathing in the warm air, he smiled slightly. "You're good at cooking."

"The best," Nejire chimed in, grabbing the wooden spoon. Taking out a little, she blew on it to cool it. Before she could take a bite, Mirio gently pried the spoon out of her hands and returned it to the pot. "Hey!" She shot him a grumpy pout.

"It's not ready yet." Firmly, he placed the lid back on. When she still looked at him, imploring, he made a shooing motion. "You don't want food poisoning."

"No, that's Tamaki's thing," she agreed, a low blow.

Tamaki's expression crumpled, his shoulders sinking. "I'm sorry. I'm a terrible cook."

Wrapping an arm around both Nejire's and Tamaki's shoulders, he slowly ushered them out of the kitchen while comforting Tamaki. "You're not bad, you just need a little practice. You're always overcooking things."

Tamaki flinched. Looking down at his hands, he clenched them and mumbled, "I just want to make sure everything's cooked properly."

"And you kinda over-salt things," Mirio continued. If he were fully honest, Tamaki over-did a lot of things when it came to food. However, being brutally honest would kill Tamaki. "You just need to find the right balance. If you have a little confidence in your food, it'd be fine."

Looking at him doubtfully, Tamaki asked, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah." He squeezed Tamaki's shoulder kindly. "Definitely."

"Hey, hey, you know, for someone who eats for their quirk, I don't get why your cooking's like that." Nejire pulled out a chair from the dining table and plopped on it. Folding her hands under her chin, she kicked her feet back and forth and hummed. "You've eaten everything."

"I don't know…" Tamaki slouched slightly as he stood behind Nejire. Gently, he pulled her long locks free from her messy ponytail. Even as his shoulders hunched, depressed from the thought, his expression gentled as he carded through her hair. He'd once said it was a calming technique. "I don't just…I want it to be perfect."

"You don't have to worry so much about it." Mirio squeezed his shoulder before sitting down in front of his notes. "You made it. We'll like it."

"Yeah." Nejire grinned as she leaned back in her chair and looked up at him. Her long arms reached up and wrapped around his head before pulling him down closer to her. Kissing him softly, she added, "No matter what it tastes like, I'll like it. It's your cooking."

Even as she let go and sat down properly, Tamaki stared at her, shell-shocked. Speechless, he tangled his fingers in her hair, his face turning redder and redder by the second. What little sound managed to escape his lips was unintelligible.

Mirio chuckled. It was adorable how low Tamaki's threshold for physical affection was, how flustered he'd get from their compliments. Sometimes he and Nejire liked to just sprawl on either side of him in bed, bouncing flattery back and forth until he buried his face in his hands and begged them to stop. Perhaps one day he'd be able to accept their words as honest truths, but until then, they would just keep reminding him.

"I'm jealous though." Nejire sighed, closing her eyes when Tamaki finally returned to playing with her hair. His nimble fingers were parting her long coils, slowly creating an army of braids. "There's so many new things in university! I want to learn new recipes too."

Glancing at her, Mirio raised a brow. "You want to learn new recipes?" He shook his head as he turned back to his notes, carefully organizing them by class. "Don't you do that for every meal already?"

"Well, yeah," Nejire admitted, swinging her feet slowly. She held her hands close together and then increased the gap between them, trying to show the motion of expansions. "But I want more! New spices, new food, exotic dishes. Like your chili!"

For a second, Tamaki stilled. His eyes shifted left and right, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find the right words. There was no polite way to say it and so Mirio took the plunge. "You do that already."

"What do you mean?" Nejire cocked her head, perplexed.

Mirio paused, setting down the papers while he tried to pick an example. There were so many to choose from, between the ones that had almost killed them and the ones he found himself secretly craving for. "You dipped pickles in orange juice." He shook his head, incredulous. "Why? How did you think of that? And how did it actually taste good?"

"What?" She crossed her arms, considering it. "I mean, that was orange and green. The colours worked together."

"Marshmallows and spaghetti," Tamaki chimed in, unbraiding her hair now. He ran his nails against her scalp and she hummed, pleased by the sensation. "I liked that one."

"Me too," Mirio agreed, giving Tamaki a thumbs up. "You're already making strange food combinations; you don't really need anyone else to help with that."

"Really?" Nejire rubbed her neck. Doubt coloured her expression as she studied him, and then Tamaki. When neither said anything, she shrugged. "Okay, if you think so. But those don't seem weird to me."

Of course they didn't. Even her wardrobe was made of clothing that clashed in theory but somehow never did on her. Honestly, there were times when Mirio wasn't sure Nejire was real, for good or for ill. Then again, he wasn't sure if this relationship was real sometimes, and it was only when he woke up to Nejire's snoring and Tamaki's hand in his that he'd realize it wasn't a dream.

"That's cause you're a weirdo," Mirio replied impishly.

She stuck out her tongue but didn't refute. Instead she grinned. "I'm glad your classes end early. The lights are on when we come home. I never had that before."

Mirio reached out and squeezed her hand. "Yeah, it's nice, isn't it?" It wasn't until he came home one day to the smell of frying onions, to a brightly light foyer, that he'd realized how much it meant to say 'I'm home'. To have someone say back 'I missed you.' Pulling back, he finished organizing his notes and stacked them on top of each other. A bright pamphlet stuck out from the bottom of the pile and he pulled it out, revealing a flyer for the school festival. He had almost forgotten about it. Holding it up, he announced, "My school's having a fall fair."

"A fair!" Nejire's eyes lit up immediately. "Like our school's?"

"Yeah." Mirio nodded, placing the flyer down in front of her. "You should come."

"A fair." Tamaki curled a strand of blue hair around his finger. "Is your club doing anything?"

"Kinda?" Mirio rubbed his neck, a sheepish smile on his face. "We're doing a café, but there's a hero theme to it and they're making me the mascot. In the costume they made up. There'll be—" He stopped when he noticed them both staring. "What?"

"You're smiling," Tamaki uttered, for once not averting his eyes.

"Huh?" Mirio didn't know how to respond to that. "I always smile."

Nejire shook her head. "No, you didn't notice? You're smiling more now."

Mirio touched his mouth, tracing his smirk. He could feel the laugh lines, but there was nothing to indicate there were more of them than normal. "Really?"

"Yep." Nejire grinned. "I'm glad."

He'd been smiling more often and perhaps that was true. Yet he was certain it had as much to do with the two people smiling at him as it did with the university. Honestly, he was such a lucky man. Getting up, he came over and wrapped them both up in a tight hug. "Thanks."

One day, he'd become a hero. Maybe his quirk would come back or maybe it wouldn't, but either way, he would get there and these experiences—this sensation of loss—would help him out one day.

In the meantime, he'd enjoy life as it came. "Chili's ready," Mirio announced.

Nejire was already in the kitchen before he could let go.