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Eri can’t stay awake in the car. The vibrations and the white noise are so soothing, she’s out like a light if the drive lasts longer than ten minutes.
At first, she hates it. It’s not that she hates the car, and she certainly doesn’t hate the privacy it brings. She would much rather pass the time listening to Hizashi sing along to the radio than clinging to Aizawa’s leg with bone-white fingers on the rare days they do have to take the crowded train, but when their family is new, it worries her to no end. She jerks awake in a panic whenever they stop in traffic or at a light. She is always quick to apologize, and her dads are just as quick to reassure her.
It’s cute, they say. It’s fine, you need the rest. Sometimes she fights it, and when Hizashi notices he’ll sing something soft and slow to help her drift off. On nights when her nightmares keep her awake, Aizawa sits with her in the back seat and they drive around the neighborhood until she falls asleep with her head in his lap. If they know she could use a nap, they intentionally refrain from conversation on the way home from school, and over time she begins to accept that they aren’t going to get mad about it. She is safe, she is loved. She can sleep.
And finally, there comes a day she doesn’t wake up at all, not even when Hizashi parks in front of the house and shuts the car off. He takes charge of everyone’s bags and goes ahead to fumble with his keys at the door, and Aizawa carefully lifts her from her seat. She wakes only briefly as he tucks her into her bed, murmuring an incoherent goodnight and scrunching her nose at a kiss to the forehead.
She loves it.
It doesn’t happen as often as she wishes it would. Most days it’s too early in the afternoon for her to truly nod off, and she wakes on her own. When she does manage to stay asleep until they get home, Aizawa often wakes her up trying to get her out and she finds herself back on her feet, fighting a pout as she rubs at a sleepy eye. He always holds her hand as they move into the house, but it isn’t the same.
She considers it a stroke of genius the day she realizes she can fake it.
It takes a few tries before her nerves stop getting the best of her. When Hizashi stops the car, she keeps her eyes shut. She's been awake for several minutes, since before they turn into the neighborhood, and it takes real effort to keep from squirming when Hizashi makes a cooing sound and nudges Aizawa to look.
“I’ll get her,” Aizawa says quietly after a moment, and Hizashi hums his agreement.
She holds herself still, measures her breathing as Aizawa lifts her out of the car. He pauses for some reason and she feels him twist his head to look at her before he carries her inside. After taking her to bed, she hears him say something to Hizashi in the hallway that he responds to with a muted, “Aww!”
After that, she fakes it every chance she gets. Aizawa never fails to carry her inside, sometimes to bed and sometimes to the couch, if it’s still early enough in the afternoon. A few times she falls asleep for real by the time he lays her down, though for the most part she just enjoys the rest for a few minutes before getting up with an exaggerated yawn and stretch. Her dads always smile at each other, and then at her, before asking if she slept well.
“You’ve sure been sleeping a lot, littlest listener!” Hizashi comments one day, ruffling her hair when she comes out of her room in search of a snack. “You feelin’ okay?”
She bites her lip, suddenly nervous. It hasn’t occurred to her until now, but isn’t she technically tricking her dad? And that’s bad, isn’t it? Guilt overwhelms her. She can’t look at Hizashi, clutching at the hem of her shirt as tears prick her eyes, worry building in her chest -
“Eriii,” Hizashi sings, so softly. He tickles her ear with a strand of her hair, coaxing out an uncertain smile. “What’s wrong, kiddo?”
He’s down on her level, his presence is calming, his smile reassuring, so she confesses. He listens carefully. He doesn’t tease. He isn’t mad. He nods seriously and motions her closer, looking around with an exaggerated conspiratorial air.
“You know, sometimes I’m pretending when Dad carries me to bed from the couch after work.”
Her eyes widen, her guilt forgotten in an instant. “You do?”
He nods, tilts his glasses down to wink over them. “It’s nice to be carried sometimes, you know?”
“Yeah! And Dad is super strong!” She throws her arms up and flexes as hard as she can, face scrunching with the effort.
Hizashi laughs and throws her over his shoulder, depositing her in a chair at the table so he can throw a snack together. “Dad’s the strongest, you got that right! So how ‘bout this. I’ll keep your secret if you’ll keep mine, deal?”
“Deal!”
They seal the agreement with apple slices and caramel dip. A few days later, as Aizawa carries her into the house, she peeks one eye open to look at Hizashi walking behind them. He grins and winks, and not for the first time - and certainly not the last - she thinks that she just might have the best dads in the whole world.