Archive of Our Own

Hiro’s parents are perfect.

They're supposed to be, anyway. There aren’t any other kids who can say their parents are the number one and number four heroes in all of Japan, and Hiro loves the rare moments when both of them wait for him to be done with school.

“Deku and Dynamight really are your parents?! That's so cool!”

Hiro looks up ahead at his bus stop to see both of his dads waiting. They're not even standing next to each other, but they're immediately recognizable.

"Who is that Dynamight's talking to?" a classmate asks Hiro, loud in his ear. "Is that another hero?"

He shrugs, and his classmate moves on to talking about how cool Deku is. But Hiro never knows any of the people who talk to his papa. He watches his papa lean away from them to whisper something in his dad's ear before walking away with the stranger. When he catches up to his dad, he's immediately swept up into a hug.

"How was school, little bug?"

Hiro's been their little bug ever since freckles just like his dad's started showing up on his face and arms. The nickname makes him feel soft and fuzzy inside.

"It was fun, daddy! Where's papa? I saw him waiting."

His dad squeezes him a little tighter, a big hug that means they can't see each other's faces.

"He's going to talk to a friend. But you know he'll come back soon. He always does."

Hiro shrugs and lets his dad hold him close for a moment. Sometimes his dad likes to share big hugs with him. Hiro always likes cuddling with him, even if he wishes papa was here to hug them too.

"Daddy? Can we race home today? I’m getting really fast, I think I can win.”

And then they're off.

Hiro notices the way his dad's smile doesn't really last. Especially when Papa's not around.

"Dad, where's papa?" Hiro asks almost every day.

Both of his parents work a lot, of course, and he's used to one or both of his parents disappearing sometimes. Papa used to tell him when he would be heading to work for a while, giving him a kiss on the side of his head before going away. Maybe for a few hours, or maybe a day or two at the most. But lately, Hiro doesn't see his papa at all. Sometimes he wakes up in the middle of the night and hears muted footsteps in the hallway followed by hushed voices. They sound so angry. He really doesn’t want them to be mad, and they never act upset in front of him, so it’s easy to pretend he doesn’t hear their arguments.

But right now they're supposed to be eating dinner together. His dad had been so excited to go out as a family, but so far it’s only Hiro and his dad at the table. They've been waiting forever for his papa.

"He’s working, little bug, you know how busy he gets. He'll be here soon."

Dad gives him a quick, small smile, a look that Hiro's starting to recognize as not quite right. Not as big or fun as the smile he used to give all the time. It's always the smile on his face when he says "Papa will be home later" or "Okay, just the two of us can spend time together instead, won't that be nice?"

Shifting in his seat, impatient and hungry, Hiro finally asks quietly, "Can we order for him? I'm starving."

Dad sighs in defeat, and orders food with a tight smile. It’s a hollow victory. The prospect of food doesn’t feel worth it when he hears the slight wobble in his dad’s voice. While they wait, Hiro looks around the restaurant and notices families all around them talking loudly and laughing together. It hurts that his family isn’t like that anymore, and he feels intensely jealous of the people around him.

While he mopes and glances around, he realizes his papa actually is here. Straightening up, Hiro tries to wave him over, but he drops back into his seat when he realizes that his papa doesn't notice him. Too busy leaning into someone else, whispering in their ear while the stranger laughs with a hand on his arm. He frowns, confused and hurt at the thought of his dad bringing a stranger to their family dinner.

"Dad, he's here.”

When he points at him, they both look over. Dad's smile falls, and he turns back to their table. Hiro keeps watching his papa, expecting him to join them any moment. He tries to wave again, but his dad grabs his hand to stop him.

"Stop staring, Hiro, it's rude. He'll join us when he's ready."

Hiro sneaks one last quick glance and wonders how long he'll make them wait this time.

The angry, late-night conversations between his parents stop, or maybe they're just more careful about when and where they have hushed arguments. Even though Hiro doesn't hear them anymore, it's easy to notice that Katsuki's around even less than before. Technically both his parents are gone a lot; hero work and all the paperwork, interviews, and stress keeps both of them busy.. He doesn't resent them for it. He’s used to coming home to an empty house after school. He’s accustomed to it, but getting home to see Dad’s car outside the house is a nice surprise.

"Dad?"

He calls out a couple times as he goes through the house, but there's no answer. The silence is too heavy and uncomfortable when Dad’s car is outside. He should have responded right away to Hiro calling out, and his heart starts beating faster, and he can’t help rushing through the house, looking for him.

“Dad, are you here?” he asks, knocking.

The response he receives is a strangled, quiet sound that he knows is a sob. Slowly, he pushes open the door. His heart sinks at the sight.

There, sitting in the corner and sobbing into a shirt, is his dad. He’s the number one pro hero and possibly the most beloved public figure in all of Japan. He’s Pro Hero Deku. But he’s also the man who used to hug him close during a scary scene in a movie, bandage his knees when he’d fall off his bike, and give him advice about anything and everything. That’s Hiro’s dad, the most important person in his life, crying in a corner.

"Dad," Hiro breathes out in a whisper, tentatively stepping into the room.

He wants to run to his dad, just like he used to when he was little; but this time to comfort him instead of the other way around. He finally catches his dad’s attention, and he sits up abruptly. Panic flickers across his face for a moment before he quickly wipes away tears and forces a weak smile.

"Hiro! H-hey! Sorry, sweetheart, I- I guess I... kinda lost track of time? So, umm, how was school?"

He tucks the shirt under his leg, but Hiro catches the logo before he does, realizing it’s one of papa’s old shirts.

"What did he do?" he asks, pointing at the shirt.

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart, it's all going to be okay."

The smile on Dad’s face is clearly supposed to be reassuring, but it doesn’t convince Hiro; not with the red around his eyes and tear stains on his cheeks.

"Where is he?"

Deku the hero is known by so many, but Hiro knows more about his dad than anyone else in the world, and he knows every single one of his dad’s smiles. The one he wears now is unlike any of the others he’s ever seen. It’s pained, barely stretching upwards at all, and stained with tears.

"Is he at work?"

Dad doesn't quite respond, but there's a small nod.

"He's- he’s busy, that's all,” he says quietly, his voice small and timid, and he studiously keeps his eyes on the ground beside him. “You know he- he wants to be the best, and that- that takes a lot of, umm, hard work."

Hiro's had enough of the excuses for his behavior. He turns around and grabs his things and leaves before his dad has enough time to realize what he's doing and object to it. He'll apologize later for running out. Right now, he needs to do something. Whatever's going on between his parents, it has to be an accident. Nobody would intentionally make his dad cry like that. There's no way.

It's rare that he goes to either of his parents' agencies, but people still recognize him. It’s one of the perks of being the only child of two incredibly famous heroes. He doesn't even have to say a word to the receptionist, who waves him on with a "You've grown so tall, just like Deku! You look so much like him! Nice to see you, Hiro!"

He sprints up to the office on the topmost floor. He knocks hard on his father's door, ignoring the assistant outside his office, pleading with him to wait.

"Hiro, your dad's really busy, you should leave him alone—"

He ignores the request, instead ripping open the door, but shock stops him from leaving the doorway. Someone Hiro's never seen before pulls away from his dad, frantically buttoning their shirt.

"What the hell, I told you not to let anyone... in..."

Katsuki stops mid-sentence when he looks up, staring blankly at his son. Hiro only moves to let the stranger run past him.

"Is that..." Hiro pauses to point out of the room at the person who's already gone. "Is that why Dad's at home crying right now? Does he know?"

There's a heavy sigh, but Hiro can't see his face. He's straightening his clothes, facing away from him as he does. At the sound of a belt buckle, Hiro cringes. Not out of embarrassment, but horror. Anger. He's suddenly so upset, he's shaking.

"If Deku's as smart as he's always been, he'll figure it out on his own. It's his choice to cry at home instead of doing something about whatever's bothering him. That's his problem."

Hiro knows there's been something wrong between his parents for a long time. He knows that his dad is suffering because of the man standing in front of him now. He knows that, but it still shocks him to hear such a dismissal.

"What's wrong with you?" Hiro demands to know, not waiting to hear the scolding he's going to get for yelling. It doesn't matter now; he doesn’t care anymore what Katsuki thinks of him. "You really don't care? He's the best thing in my life, in both our lives. All he wants is for us to be happy together, and you're cheating on him with some loser? The whole world except for you can recognize how incredible Dad is. And he's at home, upset, and I know he's probably way too willing to give up everything for you."

"Believe me," Katsuki scoffs. "I know exactly how much the world loves him."

There's a weird, bitter sort of emphasis on the last word and Hiro glares at him for it.

"Screw you," Hiro bites out even as he wipes annoyed tears off his face.

He wants to hate the sudden furious tears that spring up now, just like every time he's angry. But it's yet another way he's like his dad, and another way that he's not like the asshole in front of him.

"Screw you," he says again, spitting out the words. "You don't care at all. Dad's crying at home because of you. He knows what you're doing, he's just waiting for you to wake up and appreciate him. But you never will change because you're despicable, and I'll make sure he doesn't wait around for your ungrateful ass."

The shock on Katsuki’s face is almost its own reward.

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about," he growls out.

"I hope getting your dick wet is worth all the pain you cause." There's some sort of thrill to saying that to his own asshole of a father. "Because you're a disgusting piece of shit. Dad and I are going to be so much better without you. He's gonna finally have the happy life he deserves, and you won't be part of it. The same way you won't be part of mine."

Without pausing to appreciate the utter surprise on his face, Hiro leaves as fast as he can, bumping into people and running down the stairs, past the reception before they have a chance to say anything to him. He barely notices his trip back home. He knows he takes a bus but doesn't remember any of it. But he is aware when he runs into the house. It's eerily quiet, and Hiro doesn't hesitate before kicking his shoes off and rushing back to his dad's room.

"Dad, you still here?"

Hiro gingerly opens the door, wondering if he fell asleep. But he's awake, though he's no longer on the floor. Instead he's on his bed, curled around the same shirt he was clutching before, staring at his hand, but he sits up when Hiro walks in. This time he doesn't try to disguise his tears, and as Hiro sits next to him on the edge of the bed, he realizes he's crying too.

There are no questions about Hiro's disappearance. They both know but can't bear to talk about it yet. Hiro buries himself in his dad's side just like he used to whenever he was upset as a young child, but it doesn't feel right to be held close and comforted. Not when it's his dad that's suffering the most this time. But maybe it's okay for him to mourn, too.

Hiro grabs his dad's arm, their arms twisting around each other, holding tight to each other like it's the only way to keep from falling apart.

"Thank you, little bug." The old nickname makes Hiro roll his eyes through his tears. "You're a good kid and you're so insightful, but I'm okay now. Everything's going to be—"

Izuku tries to move away, forcing a shaky smile, yet Hiro knows he's pretending that things are okay. And he knows he can't let that happen. Not when it's clear Katsuki will never change.

"Don't— you can't pretend everything's fine," Hiro insists. "How long has he been— the things he puts you through, how long has he been doing this?"

The tentative smile on his dad's face cracks, and he pointedly doesn't answer the question. He just shakes his head, biting his lip. It's easily recognizable as something he does to avoid crying, and Hiro wants to go back to that office and yell some more.

"He's never gonna change." Hiro pauses when his hand is squeezed tight, and he looks down to poke at the ring his dad wears. "I can't watch you fall apart while he's out there fucking extras—"

"Hiro, watch your mouth."

He looks up at his dad, at the frailty and sadness on his face, and nods. Hiro might look like his dad, but a lot of his verbal habits were learned by copying his other father. Maybe it's a bad reminder, or the blunt words hurt too much. Either way, he knows he can try. Probably.

"He doesn't deserve you. I can't watch him toss you aside for any other warm body he can—"

"Hiro what did I just say—"

"I'm not being crude!" Hiro tightens his hold on his dad's hand, and taps on his ring with his free hand. "I know you love him, but he's a di- he's throwing that away. I can't watch you waste away, throwing all your goodness at him and waiting for him to come back. You're amazing. You have so much love to give someone who deserves it, but it's not him. He doesn't deserve you."

Hiro grabs his hand loosely in both of his own, looking up at his dad, desperate for him to realize that he's suffered enough. Too much.

"How long have you been waiting for him to do better? Years?" He pauses but there's no response. "Too many to give to him when he's not worth it."

Hiro watches as his dad rubs a fingertip along the gold band of his wedding ring. Then he nudges it with his own hand. There's no protest as Hiro pushes it, but he hears his dad's voice catch on a short sob.

"Whatever this ring was supposed to mean for you, for both of you, when you got married, it doesn't matter. It's not the same now."

Hiro tightens his grip when he feels a tremble in that hand, holding his dad steady when he can't do it for himself.

"Please, Dad. For once, think of your own happiness. Not his. Not what you think things could be if he'd just change. Not what you think we should have had. Just yours. I want you to be selfish, just this once."

There are tears in both their eyes, and Hiro looks away to twist the tarnished ring, waiting for a word of protest that never comes. He thinks about every time he's seen pain on his dad's face, a fake smile, all the hurt he's endured silently for what must be years, and starts to slide the ring off. A quiet whimper is heavy in the air but his hand isn't pulled away and he doesn't say anything.

"Please," Hiro repeats. "It's your choice, but I'm with you. You don't need him, and I'm here with you. You've supported me all my life, the least I can do is try to support you now. Every step of the way, as long as you need it."

Hiro sits back, gently letting go of his dad's hand. He keeps quiet even if he wants to scream and yell and make the decision for his dad. But he can't. When he backs away, their eyes meet and he sees the conflict in his dad's eyes. The same green eyes everyone tells Hiro he's lucky to have just like his dad, but all he sees is pain. There are still tears staining both their faces, but Hiro recognizes the moment his dad comes to a decision.

Hiro watches his face even after his dad looks down towards his hand. He watches with curiosity, yet still scared to look down. He inhales, taking a deep, steadying breath before he looks at his dad's hands. Instantly burying his face in his own hands, Hiro cries.

Hiro pretends he doesn't notice when his dad talks in a low voice with his friends about Katsuki. He tries not to listen, but they're not as careful about being quiet as Izuku is.

"We want you to be happy. So glad you stopped being so stubborn."

The words are repeated so often, they echo in Hiro's ears for months on end. Or maybe that's just how often they say it. When he overhears his dad mention him in a response, that sticks in his thoughts even more than anything else.

"I guess I just wanted to pretend things were normal until I figured out how to be enough for Kacchan. I don't know if I ever was."

He only says something like that once within Hiro's earshot, but it sticks with him. Makes him angry all over again about everything his dad endured.

He's more determined than ever to make sure his dad finds happiness, in one way or another. After breakfast with Izuku's friends one morning, after saying goodbye to them and starting to walk away, Hiro knocks his shoulder against his dad's. It's a little too hard, making him stumble.

"What are you trying to do, knock me into the street?"

He grumbles about his son being too strong for his own good before Hiro knocks into him again, but more gently this time.

"He likes you, you know," Hiro says with a grin. When he's met with a carefully blank look, he continues. "Shouto."

"Oh, be quiet," his dad says but his face is pink.

"No, really, he definitely does, but I bet he's waiting for you to say something. He's probably trying to be sensitive or something. Having a teenage son probably makes you a scary prospect to date."

"You really are a menace and I should start leaving you behind when we... when we go out to eat..."

Izuku's flustered and bright pink. Hiro wants to make fun of him for not delivering the threat in a more believable way, but then he follows his dad's gaze and sees what made him go quiet. It's been at least six months since Hiro last saw him, but it makes him freeze. Even from afar, he'd recognize Katsuki anywhere.

They watch together as Katsuki climbs out of a car and ignores the clingy extra by his side. His once-characteristic cocky smirk is nowhere to be seen. Just a deep scowl that looks a little too permanent. There's a slight twinge of sadness, but mostly Hiro feels only a vindictive satisfaction at how profoundly unhappy he appears. He looks over at his dad, not sure what to expect, but needing to know he's okay.

But there's no hurt, no sadness. Just the coldest, most blank stare Hiro's ever seen on his face, turned on a man who'd once been the center of their world. When his gaze falls on Izuku and Hiro, he shoves the extra away in his haste to go towards them.

But Izuku grabs his son by the hand and leads him in a different direction. The stony look on his face shatters and the expression that takes its place is so sad it breaks Hiro's heart.

"He'll never change, Dad," he says in a quiet voice.

They stop abruptly and Hiro watches as his dad reaches for the simple necklace he's wearing. The wedding ring, long gone from his hand, still sits on the cheap chain. A thin reminder and the shadow of Katsuki's presence in their life. He rips it off, the chain snapping, and leaving a red mark on his neck.

"Dad?"

Izuku just shakes his head. The hand clenched tight around the necklace slowly unfurls. Izuku keeps walking but Hiro watches the way it falls onto the sidewalk, just for a moment, before sprinting to catch up. He glances over his shoulder to see if Katsuki's still following them, but he's stopped to pick up the ring and chain. His shoulders slump, and a look of pure agony crosses his face.

But Hiro looks away; he can’t be bothered to care about him. Instead he follows after his dad in silence. So much of his life has revolved around watching his dad's pain, watching the slow unraveling of his parent's marriage. But he's tired of all the hurt they've carried, and all he feels toward Katsuki is bitterness. He's not the man he once considered a hero, or even a father. Not even in his head does Hiro call him anything other than his name. His dad seems happier and more confident all the time, and they're better now. Despite everything that man did to them.

Hiro jostles his dad again, nudging him in the shoulder again.

"It's about time you took off that ring."

It startles a laugh out of Izuku. Hiro can't wait to hear more of it in the future.

Watching his son run out of the room is entirely surreal. Hiro slams into Kirishima's side in his rush, but doesn't seem to even notice. There's an urge to scold his son but he's already gone.

"Hey, what's that all about? Hiro looked pretty upset."

Kirishima's face wrinkles with worry before looking over his shoulder, but the kid's long gone.

"He's..." Katsuki doesn't really know where to start when he's at such a loss for words. "He wanted to ask me a question and saw something he shouldn't have."

"What do you mean, what did he see? Do you have pictures from a grisly crime scene out in the open?"

The wrinkle in the middle of Kirishima's forehead goes even deeper as he looks at Katsuki, clearly waiting for a better explanation. Slumping into his office chair, Katsuki buries his face in his hands but looks at Kirishima through his fingers. He carefully looks over Katsuki, taking in his appearance. Looking down at himself, he realizes that two buttons aren't just undone, but entirely missing, and he sighs.

"Bro- did you have- were you banging someone in here?"

"Fuck off, why are you acting so offended?"

He looks up to see Kirishima clench his jaw, his eyes narrowing into a glare.

"I thought you took off work today," he says slowly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Izuku was excited you were both taking a day off together, he even said he—"

Katsuk cuts him off with an annoyed groan.

"I don't care what you think Izuku wanted. That's all everyone cares about."

He shoves away from his desk, glancing out the window so he doesn't have to see the judgment on Kirishima's face.

"He's your husband, bro. He arranged your schedules so you could have some needed time together and you're... what the hell's going on?"

Katsuki keeps avoiding his gaze, but suddenly Kirishima's directly in front of him.

"It's not what you think it is," Katsuki says weakly.

Kirishima scoffs.

"You don't get it," Katsuki adds, going hot under the scrutiny. "You have no idea what I go through every day."

He's tired of everyone looking down at him. Always less than Deku, never enough. For a few minutes when he's with someone else, he's not compared to Deku. For a short while, his flaws aren't under the scrutiny of someone he's known for decades. If only for a fleeting moment, he's the center of someone's world and not being compared to the number one hero, to Deku, to the perfect parent, to someone who everyone tells him is too good for him.

But Kirishima's lip curls, his face twisted with disdain in a way Katsuki's never seen on him before.

"I don't think there's anything worth understanding. I've been trying to understand for ages, but you don't seem to care about what you're doing to other people. I can't watch you sabotage your relationships anymore, bro. Izuku's my friend too."

Katsuki can't hold back his scoff.

"Of course you are. Can't even keep my best friend on my side—"

Kirishima laughs in his face, but there's no humor in his voice, and he scowls. Glancing away from Katsuki, he sighs.

"I'm done trying. I should have given up on you ages ago. I should've given up when you tried to get in my bed instead of going home to your husband. You blamed it on being drunk, but I should have known.”

Kirishima walks out, ignoring Katsuki in a way he never has before, and for the second time in the span of only a few minutes, he's left staring at the back of someone dismissing him, walking out on him.

Izuku calls him that night. Katsuki ignores it, because it's always the same needy question. Sometimes in a phone call, sometimes in a text, but it's always a needy demand of "when will you be home?" He hasn't bothered asking in a while, but Katsuki knew he'd eventually start wanting to know again. It's what he always does.

But when he listens to the voicemail, it's not a demand for Katsuki to come home.

Hey Kacchan. Umm. I didn't want to say this in a message, but you never answer. You've, uhh, made it clear you don't want to be here, and I... I've decided I agree. Hiro and I are staying with mom for a couple days. You should take your things while we're gone. We should talk about this later, if you- if you're willing. But for now, umm, I don't know how to look at you anymore without crying, and I think I'm tired of crying. I guess I'll talk to you later. Maybe.

Katsuki stares at his phone, entirely flabbergasted. The swirling thoughts in his head come to a standstill and he doesn't know what to think.

At first it seems like the answer to all his problems. But within weeks of moving out, the novelty of his solitude wears off. He still hasn't found a place of his own to live in yet, and hasn't even bothered trying to ask his old friends. Kirishima was the last person who stayed in his life and didn't judge him harshly, but even he's finally sick of Katsuki. Instead he goes from one hotel room to another so nobody catches on that he's been avoiding going home. Barely a month after Izuku first told him to leave, he clings desperately to the things he thought gave him meaning.

But the random hookups don't feel as thrilling as they used to feel. Each time he invites a stranger into his bed, he always immediately kicks them out of whatever hotel room he's stuck in. They simper at him, trying to stay a little longer, but Katsuki doesn't even remember their names, and the superficial attention makes his skin crawl.

"Stupid," he tells himself, head in his hands as soon as he's alone again.

He doesn't want this. He's only spoken to Izuku once since he threw his belongings in boxes and disappeared. But even then he hadn't realized yet. It hadn't hit him just how much he'd miss his family. The temptation to call his husband — ex-husband? does he have to call Izuku his ex when they're still technically married? — and apologize, beg for his forgiveness. But he doesn't.

Staring at his phone for a long time, he swipes away a tear from his face that he hadn't noticed falling, and makes a decision, unlocking his phone before he can change his mind.

I hope you're happier.

There's a sick part of him that wants Izuku to say no, to say that separating was a mistake, but Katsuki does want him to be happy. He's been so self-centered — and simultaneously so insecure — for so long it's hard to see, but he's not lying. He falls back on his bed, thinking about his own broken vows and how maybe the only way to honor them is to stay out of Izuku's life.

We're getting there. We will be.

Katsuki can't help the little helpless cry he utters, clutching tight to his phone, but doesn't say anything else to Izuku. Nothing he says now would do any good.

It feels like a slap in the face when he sees Izuku and Hiro on the street months later. A slap with the barest hint of hope behind it. But as they walk away before he can even try to approach them, that flicker of hope is washed away. Katsuki picks up the ring that Izuku casts aside.

Holding it close to him, he's gentle and almost reverent in his touch as he traces the engraved pattern with his thumb. Without hesitation, he twists the thin chain, tying it in a rough, tight knot around his neck. Maybe it's not his to claim, and maybe it's a painful reminder of everything he took for granted. But it’s all that he has left, so he keeps it.