The bag over my shoulder was killing me. Okay, maybe not literally, but my shoulders were screaming, my arms were trembling, and my back was seriously reconsidering its life choices. I should've brought wheels. Or a sleigh.

I trudged through the quieter streets, my hood pulled up against the cold. Snowflakes drifted lazily from the sky, sticking to my bag and leaving a trail of tiny wet spots. The scene was almost picturesque—until I heard the telltale sound of wings.

Great. Just what I needed. A pro hero.

Before I could even think of an excuse for why a suspicious hoodie-wearing figure was carrying a giant, questionably heavy bag through the city at night, he landed in front of me with all the grace and flair of someone who's fully aware they're cool.

Hawks.

Of course, it had to be Hawks. Because the universe just loves to mess with me.

"Hey, buddy," Hawks said, tilting his head and giving me a casual grin. "What's in the bag? Looks heavy. Rob a bank?"

I froze. 

"What? No! Why would I—who robs a bank on foot?"

"Fair point," he said, his golden eyes narrowing slightly as he studied me. "But you've got a real Santa-meets-shady-dealer vibe going on here."

"Wow, thanks," I said dryly. "Nothing screams festive like being accused of illegal activity."

Hawks chuckled, but his eyes didn't leave me. "So, what's the deal? You look like you're on a mission."

I sighed, knowing that arguing with him wasn't going to get me anywhere. I reached up and pulled my hood back, letting him get a good look at my face. His grin faltered.

"Wait a minute," he said, squinting at me. "Midoriya? Is that you?"

"Surprise," I said flatly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a lot of things to do and not enough time to do them."

Hawks raised an eyebrow. "Okay, but seriously, what's in the bag? You look like you just looted Santa's workshop."

I hesitated, clutching the strap of my bag a little tighter. "It's... toys. And other stuff. For kids. You know, Christmas spirit and all that."

His expression softened, but he still looked skeptical. "Toys, huh? And where exactly did you acquire these toys?"

I rolled my eyes. "I bought them. With money. Legally."

Hawks crossed his arms, clearly enjoying my annoyance. "And what's the catch? You're not exactly the 'Christmas charity drive' type."

"Wow, thanks for that glowing review of my character," I said. "Look, after I dropped out of UA, I realized there's a lot of kids out there who don't get the Christmas they deserve. Kids in hospitals, orphanages, on the streets... So, yeah. I'm playing Santa this year."

For a moment, Hawks didn't say anything. He just stared at me, his usually playful expression replaced by something softer. Then, without warning, he grabbed the bag off my shoulder.

"Hey!" I protested, trying to snatch it back.

"Nope," he said, slinging it over his own shoulder like it weighed nothing. Show-off. "You look like you're about to collapse. Where are you headed?"

"Home," I muttered.

"Cool," he said. "Lead the way."

By the time we got to my apartment, I was thoroughly annoyed and also slightly grateful. The bag had been cutting into my shoulder, and Hawks was carrying it like it was full of feathers. Which, you know, figures.

He set the bag down on the floor and stretched, his wings ruffling slightly. "So, what's the plan now? You gonna wrap all this by yourself?"

"Yeah," I said, pulling off my hoodie and tossing it onto a chair. "Not like I have an army of elves at my disposal."

Hawks smirked. "Good thing you've got a bird, then."

I blinked. "What?"

"I've got time," he said, shrugging like it was no big deal. "Might as well help out. Besides, I'm curious to see what Santa Midoriya's workshop looks like."

"Fine," I said, trying not to sound too relieved. "But if you break anything, you're paying for it."

He grinned. "Deal."

We set up a makeshift wrapping station in the middle of my living room. Hawks took one look at the mountain of toys, scarves, books, and cookies and let out a low whistle.

"Wow," he said. "You really went all out."

"Yeah, well," I said, grabbing a roll of wrapping paper. "Christmas only comes once a year."

He picked up a stuffed bear and turned it over in his hands. "You're serious about this, huh?"

"Of course I'm serious," I said, cutting a piece of paper with maybe a little more force than necessary. "This might be the only Christmas some of these kids remember. I'm not messing around."

Hawks didn't say anything, but I noticed the way his expression softened again. He grabbed a roll of tape and started wrapping like he'd been doing it his whole life.

"Where'd you learn to wrap presents like that?" I asked, watching as he folded the edges of the paper with precision that would put a professional gift-wrapper to shame.

He shrugged. "You pick up a lot of random skills in this job. Besides, it's not that different from folding wings."

I snorted. "Sure, because wings and wrapping paper are totally the same thing."

For the next hour, we worked in relative silence, interrupted only by the sound of scissors snipping, tape ripping, and Hawks occasionally making sarcastic comments about my lack of wrapping skills.

"You're supposed to fold the corners, not crumple them," he said, holding up one of my attempts.

"It's the thought that counts," I shot back, grabbing another toy.

When we finally finished, the floor was covered in brightly wrapped packages, each one topped with a bow. I sat back, wiping my forehead and surveying our work.

"Not bad," Hawks said, stretching again. "You're really doing something good here, you know."

I shrugged, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. "It's not about me. It's about them."

He smiled, a real one this time, not his usual cocky grin. "Well, Santa, you've got my respect. And if you ever need a delivery bird, you know where to find me."

With that, he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. Before he left, he turned back, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Oh, and Midoriya?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't mess this Christmas up."

And with that, he was gone, leaving me with a pile of presents, a sore back, and a heart that felt just a little bit lighter.