I was halfway through organizing the mountain of presents when my phone buzzed on the table. Normally, I'd let it ring because, let's be honest, anyone calling me at this point is either trying to sell me insurance or yell at me for my "hero dropout" status.

But something told me to pick it up. Maybe it was intuition. Maybe it was boredom. Maybe it was the sheer curiosity of who would even bother calling me.

"Hello?" I said, cradling the phone between my ear and shoulder as I struggled with another stubborn bow that refused to cooperate.

"Oi, is this the Christmas Santa I keep hearing about?"

I froze. That voice. That tone. That unmistakable confidence.

"Uh... who's asking?" I said, immediately suspicious.

There was a laugh on the other end of the line—loud, boisterous, and just a little intimidating. "It's Miruko, kid. Heard you're running some kind of jolly crusade for the holidays. Care to explain that?"

My brain short-circuited. Miruko. The Miruko. Number Five Hero. Rabbit Pro Extraordinaire. Calling me.

"I—uh—what?" I stammered, dropping the bow entirely. "How... how do you even know about that?"

"Got my sources," she said smugly. "You've been sneaky, but you're not that sneaky. Hawks mentioned your little project when I bumped into him earlier. Said you're buying toys for kids. Sounded like a decent cause, so I figured I'd pitch in."

I blinked, my brain struggling to process the words coming out of her mouth. Miruko wanted to help? Miruko, the embodiment of chaos and pure hero energy, was calling me to donate?

"Wait, you want to help?" I asked, just to make sure I hadn't misheard her.

"Of course I do!" she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "What, you think I'm heartless? C'mon, kid, even I can get behind making Christmas better for kids who've got it rough."

"I mean, yeah, but—" I stopped myself. No. Don't question it. Don't look a gift rabbit in the mouth.

"Alright," I said, trying to sound as composed as possible while internally panicking. "What, uh, what exactly are you thinking?"

"I've got some cash lying around," she said casually, as if she wasn't about to drop some life-altering offer on me. "Figured I'd send it your way. You can use it to buy more stuff or whatever you need. Consider it my way of giving back. So, where do I send it?"

I stared at the phone like it had personally insulted me. This couldn't be real. Was this real? Did Miruko actually just offer to donate to my cause?

"Uh, okay," I said, rattling off the details of my digital payment account while my hands shook slightly. "That should work."

"Perfect," she said. "You'll see the money in a few minutes. And don't even think about saying no. I'm stubborn, and I don't take rejection well."

"Wasn't planning on it," I muttered, still baffled by the entire conversation.

"Good," she said. "Now, don't screw it up. Make those kids happy, yeah?"

"Yeah," I said automatically. "Of course. I—I will."

"Atta boy," she said with a grin I could practically hear through the phone. "Merry Christmas, Midoriya."

And with that, she hung up, leaving me sitting there in stunned silence.

True to her word, the notification for her payment popped up on my phone a few minutes later. I stared at the screen, my jaw practically on the floor.

This wasn't just a donation. This was a game-changer.

"Holy crap," I muttered to myself, running a hand through my hair. "That's... a lot of zeroes."

I flopped back onto the couch, staring at the ceiling as I tried to wrap my head around everything. Miruko, of all people, had decided to help me. Miruko, the high-energy rabbit hero, had donated enough money to fund an entire Christmas village.

Why? How? What kind of alternate universe was this?

"I don't get it," I said out loud to no one in particular. "Is this what being nice feels like? Do people just throw money at you when you're not actively causing problems?"

It was baffling. Confusing. And just a little bit terrifying.

But it was also kind of amazing.

"Alright," I said, sitting up and grabbing my notebook. "Time to make this count."

I flipped open to my ever-growing Christmas list and started scribbling furiously. With Miruko's donation, I could go all out. More toys, more supplies, more everything.

For the first time, the enormity of what I was doing really hit me. This wasn't just some small-time operation anymore. This was big. Huge.

This was going to be the best Christmas ever.