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“Daddy.” There’s a little hand shaking at his arm, a hiss in his ear. “Daddy, wake up.”
That’s all it takes for Eijirou to crack an eye open, expecting the worst. The kitchen set alight from attempts to cook, perhaps, despite all his warnings about fire safety and Katsuki being the only one allowed to touch the oven - or maybe the opposite, the bathroom flooded again from the inability of children’s hands to turn the taps off.
It doesn’t bode well for him that the room’s still pitch black, but there’s neither the sound of crackling flames nor rushing water. Eijirou sits up, rubbing his face and sighing hugely. “Hey, baby.”
It’s Kaede who’s facing him - the baby of the family, barely out of toddlerhood and growing up so fast that it’s breaking Eijirou’s heart into a million pieces. She’s small for her age, chubby cheeked and messy haired and, right now, blinking soulful carmine eyes at him.
“I wanna have a tea party,” Kaede whispers. There’s a child-sized apron haphazardly tied around her neck, clearly by tiny hands unused to knots and bows. “Satsuki’s already in the house. Will you and Dad come, too?”
“What time is it?” She points at the clock on his bedside table; Eijirou squints and tries not to curse. “Is it not a little early for a tea party, honey?” he says, instead of teaching her a word she really shouldn't learn.
“Please?” Her hands find one of his and tug, and he melts. Cuteness over rationality - and a lie in, apparently.
“Okay, okay. Let your dad sleep, though.” One glance at Katsuki and the shadows under his eyes confirm that a lie-in for him is probably the safest option. Resisting the urge to lean in and press a kiss to his head, Eijirou leaves him be and slides out of bed, letting Kaede tug him in the direction of the living room.
Despite the fact they’d gotten the biggest play house possible for them for the corner of the living room - shipped from the States and slapped with an eye-watering customs fee - it’s nowhere near big enough for Eijirou to squash into. Relegated to sitting outside it and having his pretend meals passed through the window, he nudges a curtain aside and peers in to see Satsuki inside, head bowed as she busies herself over the stove. “Morning, sweetie. What’s on the menu today?”
“We got herbal tea,” Satsuki announces, making a big show out of pouring him an invisible cup. “It’s good for your immune system.”
He feels his eyebrows arch. “Really? How do you know that?”
“I just do,” Satsuki says imperiously. There was clearly an attempt made to brush her hair: half of it is sleek and straight, while the other is a golden-blonde tangle. “Auntie Momo gave us herbal tea last time she looked after us.”
And clearly passed on her wisdom, then. Eijirou tries his best to hide his smirk as Satsuki passes the cup over with a flourish. “What about you, Kaede?”
“Eggs and kuh-wa - kwa - ” She gives up, holding a plastic croissant aloft instead. “Is that okay?”
“That’s more than okay. Excellent choice!” Kaede beams at him, then starts neatly arranging a fruit salad in the bowl beside the pastry and eggs.
Kirishima Eijirou is pretty sure he’s killing it in life.
He’s the battalion chief at the fire station he started working at ten years ago, just a few weeks after he packed his life up and moved to Tokyo from Osaka; his home is a cute little townhouse that was a real estate steal, complete with a garden full of vegetable boxes; and he gets help tending to said vegetable boxes from the two most charming, beautiful daughters he could ask for, even if bickering over the carrots sometimes turns into them screaming and throwing soil over one another.
Oh, and he’s been married to the love of his life for nine years, soon to be known as Japan’s next bestselling author.
Katsuki’s been zealously guarding his work in progress, but from what little Eijirou has read, it’s excellent - just like everything else Katsuki does, really. His husband had been reluctant to tell him about him wanting to make the jump from editing books to actually writing them himself, as if Eijirou somehow wouldn’t have lost his mind with excitement and immediately supported the idea. Sure, it means long periods of time where Katsuki’s shut up in his office, isolating himself and typing until Eijirou has to massage his cramping hands; less time spent with the girls, their family and friends stepping in to help look after them. But it’s temporary, he reasons with himself, on the nights where he’s lying in bed and feeling neglected while Katsuki’s typing filters in from the other room - and he’s made Katsuki promise that, when it’s finished and published, the profits will be put towards a trip to Italy for the four of them.
His stomach grumbles at the thought of endless amounts of pasta and pizza, and he gazes longingly at the plastic food as if it were real. “What do you two think of a tea party with actual food?” he proposes, and Satsuki shoots him a very ugly look.
“Is this not good enough for you?” In a gesture scarily reminiscent of her other father, she slaps the fake plate of food before him. “Kaede, you shouldn’t have asked him to come.”
Kaede doesn’t respond but offers him a look of soulful sorrow. Eijirou holds up his hands in self-defence, shaking his head. “You mean you’re not actually hungry? That you would say no, thank you, if I fried a ton of bacon right now?”
Satsuki pauses, head bent over the sink of plastic dishes. In the midst of her internal debate over whether or not to give in, Kaede lifts her chin. “ I want bacon,” she tells him, and squeals when Eijirou reaches in and hauls her into his arms, gently navigating her through the window of the play house.
“Then bacon you shall get,” he says grandly, sweeping towards the kitchen with her balanced on his hip. There’s a scuffling sound behind them, toys flying as Satsuki scrambles after them with indignation in her tone.
“I better get some bacon, too!”
Katsuki appears in the doorway just as he’s serving up, bleary-eyed and no doubt roused by the smell of bacon and eggs. “You’re cooking?” he says, voice thick from sleep. His hair’s sticking up at the back, one leg of his sweatpants rolled to his knee, but looking like he’s just emerged from hibernation isn’t going to stop Eijirou from simping.
“Dad!” Satsuki shrieks, dropping the glass she’d been tapping on the table. Katsuki winces, a hand pressed to his left ear, and she adopts a guilty expression. “Sorry. I forgot.”
“That’s okay,” Katsuki says wearily, readjusting the hearing aids which clearly squealed with static alongside Satsuki. He presses a kiss first to her head, then Kaede’s, then slumps against Eijirou at the stove. “Hey.”
“Morning.” He can’t help but frown when he sees the exhaustion on Katsuki’s face. “What time did you go to bed last night?”
He’s such a deep sleeper himself that he’s dead to the world as soon as his head hits the pillow - which didn’t go over too well with Katsuki when the girls were babies and he was the only one being awoken by their crying in the middle of the night, unless he shook Eijirou awake and demanded him to take his turn. Still leaning against him, Katsuki sighs. “Dunno. After three, I think.”
“After - ?!” Turning away from the stove, he pushes Katsuki in the direction of the sofa. “That’s, like, five hours sleep! Go on, go lie down. You’re napping today, you hear me?”
Katsuki scowls at him, even when he throws himself down on the sofa. “I can’t take naps, you know that.”
“No one is physically incapable of taking naps, unless you’re an insomniac. I remember us napping the first afternoon we met each other.” Eyes narrowed, Eijirou points with the spatula towards the sofa. “Get over there and lie down; I’ll save your food for you.”
It’s a sign of how truly tired he is that the instruction makes Katsuki wrinkle his nose instead of snapping back, then does as he’s told. When he’s thrown himself down, head against a cushion, Kaede slides from her chair and pads out of the room. Seconds later, she returns with the large floral blanket Izuku crocheted for her and, with difficulty, tosses it over Katsuki.
“There you go,” she says, pulling it over the places she couldn’t reach and tucking it around Katsuki’s confused, blinking face. “Go back to sleep, Dad.” Kaede presses a kiss to his cheek then returns to her table, Eijirou hiding his smile while Satsuki keeps digging into her breakfast.
It’s only when he turns the pan off and looks over his shoulder that he sees Katsuki’s fallen asleep again, mouth slightly ajar and arm hanging off the sofa so that his fingers brush against the carpet.
“Can I have his bacon?” Satsuki says in a stage whisper, and Eijirou makes sure to put it on a shelf too high for her to reach.
With Katsuki spending Saturday holed up writing, Eijirou’s stuck with writing of his own in the office of the fire station. “You’re not on shift today,” Tetsutetsu says when he pokes his head in, doing a double-take at the sight of Eijirou hunched over a pile of papers.
“Nah, I just called by to do some paperwork. I’m pretty much done, though.” He stretches and reaches back, tightening his bun. “The new guy’s here, isn’t he?” Tetsutetsu nods, and Eijirou stands. “I’ll introduce myself, then.”
The new firefighter turns out to be a big, burly man called Yoarashi, who bows so deeply to Eijirou that his head looks in danger of smacking against the tiled floor. “It’s an honour!” he booms, his handshake vigorous. “I didn’t realise you were working today!”
Eijirou grins at him, hand falling to his side once more. “I’m not today. I thought I’d say hello on my way out - I need to go pick my daughters up from their grandparents.”
“Daugh - ?”
“Don’t get him started,” Tetsutetsu says warningly, slinging his jacket over its hook and shooting Eijirou a look as Yoarashi opens his mouth, “‘cause he’ll never shut up about his princesses.”
“Ah, give it up.” Not truly offended, Eijirou waves him away. The girls had once asked if them being princesses made him and Katsuki kings, to which Katsuki tartly responded that he was the king and Eijirou the court jester. “How am I not supposed to talk about them? Satsuki learnt to drop-in yesterday, you know.”
Despite his previous reprimand, Tetsutetsu’s attention is seized at once. “She did?”
“Yep,” Eijirou says smugly, sliding his phone out of his pocket and searching for the video as Tetsutetsu crowds in close, Yoarashi joining them. “She had no fear, either: she just squared her shoulders and did it.”
Tetsutetsu lets out a bark of laughter as they watch Satsuki skate down the edge of the mini ramp, shaking on her board but throwing up her fists in triumph when she manages it. “She’s great,” he says admiringly as Satsuki tightens the strap of her helmet, heavily decorated with stickers. “You should bring her in again soon! She’s the funniest kid I know.”
“All Katsuki,” Eijirou tells him, thinking about their matching scowls and cheek.
“Katsuki?” Yoarashi echoes, confused. “I thought you said your daughter’s called Satsuki?”
The usual confusion, then. “She is,” Eijirou says, grinning a little, “and Katsuki is my husband.”
“So they’re called Katsuki and Satsuki? Does that not get confusing?”
“Yep. It was the hill he wanted to die on when it came to naming her, though - he took my surname, so we agreed he could name our first kid.” Yoarashi laughs, and Eijirou claps him on the back. “Nice to meet you, man. See ya on Tuesday, Tetsu.”
Despite his tiredness, it’s a pleasant drive to his in-laws’ house, the streets almost white in the blazing light overhead. Their combined salaries have them getting by comfortably, funding the occasional holiday and whatever hobby the girls want to take up, but it’s still daunting for Eijirou when he thinks of just how rich the Bakugou family are. Katsuki kept that one quiet until the first time Eijirou met them for dinner at their house, and almost choked at the sheer size of the place. How many people had a tennis court in their back garden? If Mitsuki had her way, the girls would be Grand Slam champions before they were out of their teens.
“They’re napping,” she says in a low voice when she opens the door to him, beckoning him inside. She’s only slightly less intimidating than the first time Eijirou met her, though he found she became a great deal warmer when he helped to provide her with grandchildren. “Masaru had to go into the office. I fed them an hour ago, and Satsuki had seconds - I swear, she’s grown two inches since the last time she was here.”
“She’s growing like a weed,” Eijirou tells her, somewhat ruefully, as he kicks off his shoes. “Did she tell you about her drop-in?”
“Of course she did.” They make their way into the living room, and softness spreads over Mitsuki’s face in a way that Eijirou’s only seen in relation to her granddaughters. True to her words they’re snoozing on the sofa together, a blanket tucked around them and Kaede’s head against Satsuki’s shoulder. Eijirou tries not to melt, and fails miserably. “She asked if I’d make her a pair of knee pads. They’re not exactly clothes, but I told her I’d do my best.”
“Ah, you’ll do a great job. Designing them won’t be that much different from clothes, will they?” Mitsuki makes a noise of dissent behind him, but Eijirou’s already crouching down and gently shaking his daughters. “Girls, it’s Daddy. Time to go home.”
Kaede opens her eyes and blinks blearily at him, while Satsuki’s are too tightly squeezed to be natural. Eijirou nudges her again and, this time, Satsuki sighs dramatically. “Don’t wanna.”
“Listen to your Daddy,” Mitsuki tells her, but it’s fond rather than reprimanding. “I’ll let you bring the blanket home - and maybe I’ll put a few packets of puccho in your backpack if you’re good.”
Miraculously, Satsuki’s awake and alert two seconds later. “Do you have the peach type?” she says at once, sliding from the sofa, and Mitsuki’s smirking as she leads her towards the kitchen. Eijirou’s left to find Kaede’s shoes, put them on for her as the girl slumps against him, then interrogate Mitsuki the moment she returns with a beaming Satsuki.
“Where’s Kaede’s onesie?” He definitely didn’t put her in this yellow floral dress to go to her grandparents.
“Replaced by that lovely little outfit she’s wearing.” She holds out a bag, unimpressed. “I was this close to burning it - why would you put her in such an ugly outfit?”
“It’s not ugly,” Eijirou says defensively, taking the bag from her, “and because she likes dragons. The little hood and tail are so cute.”
Mitsuki offers nothing more than a cool raise of her eyebrows before she crouches down, spreading her arms wide and letting the girls cling to her. “Be good for your dads, babies - try to keep the noise down while Dad’s writing, won’t you? Kaede, make sure you get some of the puccho, sweetheart. Satsuki, make sure you share. ”
Satsuki’s winning smile may fool her grandmother, but Eijirou watches her open the packet in the rearview window on the drive home, just to be sure sharing is going on and a civil war doesn’t break out in the backseat.
He doesn’t knock on the door of Katsuki’s office until much later that evening, entering the second a low voice invites him in. “How goes the work?” Eijirou says, making his way over to Katsuki’s desk and leaning against it. The groan of the wood under his weight is less than reassuring, but his husband doesn’t wave him away.
Instead Katsuki pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales hugely before he responds. “Getting there. I know that it’s just going to click, that I’ll be on a roll when I get to the last few hundred words, but it’s reaching that point that’s the problem.” The crease between his brows deepens, eyes tight. The shadows beneath them are more prominent than ever. “I’m sorry I’m so absent. I should be - ”
“Focusing on finishing this,” Eijirou soothes, a hand coming to rub Katsuki’s back. “It’s just a little while longer, isn’t it? The girls understand, and they know you’ll have loads of time to spend with us once it’s over. Your mom’s been reminding them of that, too, and I’ll bet any money your dad’s the same.” He smiles at him, head to one side. “On that note, why don’t you take a break then go back to it? You could find sudden inspiration lying on the sofa and getting away from the screen for a while.”
“No. No, it’ll just be in the back of my mind, annoying me. I need to get it done. My manager's already on my back wanting to see what I have.” Katsuki sighs again. “Are the girls in bed?”
“Yep.” He stretches, yawning hugely. “Max has just been crowned King of the Wild Things.”
Katsuki eyes him warily. “I’m not sure you should be reading it to them; I think it’s going to scare Kaede.”
“No, she’s enjoying it. She’s tougher than you give her credit for.” Much to his delight, Kaede hung on every word he read aloud with wide eyes and not a trace of fear as she traced the illustrations of the Wild Things, begging for him to read just one more page. “Why don’t you go in and say goodnight? They’re probably still awake, and I’m gonna insist you take at least five minutes away from the screen.”
Katsuki stretches then stands without dissent, ambling off in the direction of their bedroom. Following at his heels, Eijirou lingers at the doorway just out of sight as Katsuki enters - and, sure enough, Katsuki’s low laugh comes only a second later. “You’re terrible at faking sleep, you know.”
“Not faking,” comes Satsuki’s stubborn voice. “I was asleep and then you woke me up.”
“I’m sure.” Eijirou imagines him crouched down, stroking Satsuki’s thick hair back from her face as Kaede dozes on the opposite side of the room. “I saw you trying to hide your face the second I walked in, brat.”
“You didn’t see anything.” There’s no doubt in his mind where Satsuki’s insolence has come from, no matter how many attempts he’s made to teach her otherwise. Leaning against the wall, Eijirou continues listening in. “Is your book finished?”
“Nearly. Another day or two and it’ll be done, I hope.” There’s a short pause. Eijirou peeks around the corner to see that he’s right: Katsuki is on one knee by her bedside, a hand in Satsuki’s hair as she peers up at him. “I’ll have more time for you and your sister then. I’m sorry I’ve been so distracted, for so long now.”
Satsuki sighs, wriggling down until only her nose and eyes are visible above the duvet. “It’s okay,” she says, voice muffled. “Grandma said you writing your book means you’ll have more money to spend on us.”
“She said that?” Katsuki asks, eyebrows no doubt raised.
“Uh-huh.”
“And what do you want me to spend my money on?”
“I dunno. Maybe a phone.”
“A phone?” he says incredulously. “You’re six! Keep dreaming, you little brat - ”
Satsuki shrieks with laughter that cuts off suddenly at Katsuki’s shushing sound, and a tense silence fills the room in its wake. After ten seconds have passed and Kaede’s breathing has stayed rhythmic and undisturbed, Satsuki lets out a smothered giggle.
“Alright, alright, time for you to sleep,” he hears Katsuki say in an undertone, but there’s amusement in his words. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” Satsuki replies, her words punctuated by a yawn. Then there comes the creak of footsteps upon the floorboards, and Katsuki emerges to quietly close the door behind him. Eijirou’s mildly surprised when he makes, not for his office again, but for the living room.
“What are you up to?” he says, traipsing after him as Katsuki drops to the sofa.
“Taking your advice and not staring at a screen for five minutes.” Head against the armrest and eyes tightly closed, he opens his arms. Eijirou takes the bait at once, throwing himself onto the sofa and snuggling into Katsuki’s chest.
“I’ve missed your pecs,” he says into them, voice muffled, and Katsuki snorts with laughter.
“You’re so weird.” Katsuki pauses. “I think I can give my husband at least ten minutes of my time, considering I’ve been - ”
“If you say neglecting us,” Eijirou says in a warning tone, tilting his chin to look up at him, “then we’re gonna have some issues. You are not neglectful, Kats. It’s only been in the last couple of weeks that you’ve been locked in your office, and we get it. It’s just the final push, yeah? You’re doing what needs to be done.”
Katsuki doesn’t look convinced, a hand coming up to rub at his forehead. “I’m not gonna write or edit anything for at least two weeks when I get this finished,” he says at last, and Eijirou beams at him.
“I’ll put in a request for days off as soon as you do! We could… oh, get a flight to Miyajima Island, maybe? A mini-break before Italy? I think the girls would love the deer.”
“They would. That would be nice.” Katsuki smiles down at him, tired but serene. Faint lines crease the edges of his eye with the movement, and Eijirou doesn’t think he’s ever seen something so beautiful before. “Let’s do it.”
“Yep,” Eijirou says, smirking up at him and leaning in. “Let’s do it.”
He didn’t exactly mean ‘let’s fuck on the sofa because we haven’t had sex in weeks’, and definitely doesn’t think that’s what Katsuki is implying, but Eijirou’s not complaining when he leans in to kiss him. At once his hands slide up beneath Katsuki’s vest, travelling over smooth, warm skin until he can close his fingers down on his waist, fingers pressing into him. Tilting his head, Katsuki sighs into his mouth and rolls his hips against his simultaneously, and Eijirou can’t help but jerk with surprise at the motion.
Katsuki pulls away, suddenly alert. “Did you not - ?”
“No,” Eijirou says at once, head feeling much fuzzier and jeans much tighter than they should, “no - I just didn’t expect it.” He can’t help the abrupt grin from breaking out across his face. “Definitely not complaining, though.”
Now Katsuki’s grinning, a definite edge to it. When he leans up to kiss him again there’s a new fire, hands moving to his hair and tugging at his ponytail until Eijirou’s hair falls loose while simultaneously grinding against him. Eijirou responds in kind, hands leaving Katsuki’s waist to grapple with his belt and shove a hand down his jeans instead to -
“Daddy?”
No matter how soft the voice from the doorway is, the mere sound of it has Eijirou yelping and falling sideways off of the sofa, hitting the floor with a grunt as Katsuki sits bolt upright. They look to the doorway where Kaede is standing, blanket in one hand and rubbing at her eyes with the other.
“I’m thirsty,” she whispers, big eyes focused on them. “Can I have a glass of water?”
She blinks at them, bewildered, when Katsuki drops his head back with a groan, then swings his legs off the sofa and gingerly steps over Eijirou to make for the sink.
He’s brushing his teeth above the bathroom sink, staring at his tired, sleepy-eyed face, when Katsuki slinks into the room with an unmistakable expression of glee. “I’m finished,” he says, before Eijirou can question him. “The book. I’ve finished it.”
Eijirou drops his toothbrush into the sink with a clatter, wheeling around to face him. “Are you serious?” The words are distorted around the foam in his mouth, and he quickly spits back into the sink before he speaks again. “You’re finished? Actually finished?”
“It’ll have to go through an editor,” Katsuki says, the words in a great rush. “The publisher will want someone else to edit it, even though I’m perfectly capable of editing my own book - but, yeah. It’s done. Ready to go to them and be evaluated.”
Eijirou’s heart gives a great leap in his chest, a weight lifted off his shoulders. “I’m so, so proud of you. You know that, right? You’re amazing.” He steps forward, arms wrapping around Katsuki’s narrow waist in a great bear hug. “A-ma-zing.”
He feels Katsuki’s low laugh, the arms moving to hold him in return. “They’re not going to know what’s hit them. It’s brilliant, if I say so myself.”
“Of course it is. It’s you, isn’t it?” He buries his face in the junction between Katsuki’s neck and shoulder, and hopes he isn’t smearing toothpaste against his jumper. “When are you gonna pitch it to them?”
“Today.” Katsuki wriggles back out of his grip, looking up at him with an expression Eijirou knows means he’s got the day planned out completely. “I know Deku’s going to some stupid craft fair, so I’ll get him to drop me off - means you can have the car, if you need it.”
“You don’t want me to come with you?” Eijirou asks, and Katsuki shakes his head. “Not even for moral support?”
“No. No, I’ll get him to leave me there then pick me up again. I’d rather do it on my own.” Not that he would ever admit it - not when he’s aware of his own brilliance, when he knows how highly his managers at the publishing company think of him - but there’s a muscle of tension twitching in Katsuki’s jaw. “Thanks, but you wouldn’t want to be there, and neither would the girls. It’ll be long, and boring, and - ”
“That’s okay,” Eijirou interjects, a hand moving to cup his face. Katsuki leans into his touch, eyes on him. “We’ll have weeks and weeks to spend together now, won’t we?
Katsuki’s grin is searing and, regardless of the toothpaste still smeared around his mouth, yanks Eijirou down by his collar to pull him into a kiss.
Having promised to bring company, Izuku arrives surprisingly alone later that morning. “I’m sorry, girls, but no play date today,” he tells them, offering an apologetic grimace. “Nozomi’s come down with a stomach bug - your Uncle Shouto’s looking after her.”
“Oh.” Satsuki, who rushed at Izuku the second he stepped through the door, wrinkles her nose. “Is she throwing up everywhere?”
“You should make her a Get Well Soon card,” Eijirou suggests, clapping him on the back and saving Izuku from answering that pleasant question. “That would make her smile, wouldn’t it?”
Nozomi - the most serious, sombre child that Eijirou’s ever met - rarely cracks a smile, but Izuku’s beaming makes up for it. “That would be so kind of you! It’d definitely help her feel better.”
“Okay,” Satsuki says, satisfied, then glances up at Katsuki. Having just slunk out of the kitchen, one finger hooked in the collar of his shirt and tugging at it, he’s leaning against the wall in silence. “Are you gonna go sell your book now, Dad?”
“Yep.” Eijirou can’t remember the last time Katsuki looked so pale, or so ill. “They’re gonna love it, offer me a multi-book deal and pay for our two-week Italy vacation. Maybe a few days in Greece, even.”
“They will,” Eijirou says comfortably, stepping forwards and wrapping his arms around Katsuki’s waist again. Despite the blond’s clear nerves - or perhaps because of them - he feels calm and assured, in no doubt about the fact Katsuki’s going to go in there and bowl them all over. “Good luck - not that you’ll need it.” He punctuates his words with a kiss, hands cupping Katsuki’s face.
“Eww!” Satsuki shouts from behind them. “Gross! I don’t wanna see that!”
“Don’t look, then,” Katsuki says tartly, leaning in for another kiss. There’s a definite trembling in his hands when he pulls away, even if his voice is firm. “I’ll see you later.”
“You will.” Eijirou grins at him, and it’s all he can do to let Katsuki step out of his grip and grab his bag instead of going for yet another kiss. Two fleeting hugs to the girls and then he’s gone, marching out of the room with a waving Izuku on his heels.
Despite the fact the two departed men weren’t making much noise, the room seems almost silent in their absence. Hands on his hips, Eijirou glances down at Satsuki and Kaede. “What now, then?”
The girls look at each other, frowning. He’s just expecting her to suggest making Nozomi cards when Kaede speaks up, shy and hesitant. “Can we play hairdressers?”
He was decent enough at doing his own hair before he became a father, but pouring over hundreds of YouTube tutorials after Satsuki was born turned him into an expert. “I don’t play hairdressers, Kaede,” Eijirou says loftily, cracking his knuckles. “I practically am a hairdresser.”
Five minutes later and he’s halfway through a lace braid in Kaede’s dark hair, wrapping it around the crown of her head like a diadem. Satsuki’s sitting on the counter beside them, leaning in to watch what he’s doing. “See?” Eijirou tells her, going more slowly than usual so Satsuki can pick up how he’s threading her hair together. “It looks harder than it actually is.”
“Hmm.” Satsuki leans her head against his bicep, brown eyes fixed on the motions of his fingers. “Can I have a go?”
“Sure.” He steps aside, holding the strands until Satsuki can take them from him. “Gently, now.”
“Don’t pull my hair,” Kaede says fretfully, and Satsuki scowls at the back of her head.
“I’ve never pulled your hair,” she mutters, somewhat untruthfully, but it’s with obvious care that she starts slowly braiding it.
Eijirou can’t resist snapping a quick photo of them, grinning down at the image of Kaede’s stoic expression and Satsuki’s tongue poking between her lips in concentration. As the girls talk - Kaede’s voice a quiet murmur, Satsuki’s loud and bossy - he sends it to Katsuki.
[Eijirou] : having short hair means you’re the only missing out on having fancy hairstyles
He likes Katsuki’s hair the current length it is, even if it’s barely an inch long all over, but it’s given him the unfortunate habit of blaming everyone else in the house for clogged drains while absolving himself of guilt entirely. Shaking his head, Eijirou gets back to the girls.
“You can borrow my green hair ties, if you want,” Satsuki’s telling Kaede, the braid better formed now, “but you have to give them back, ‘cause Camie gave them to me.”
Camie seemed to have the belief that she was legally allowed to spoil them rotten, like a rich, fun aunt without the title - and Eijirou knows how much it’ll stress him out if he were ever to calculate how much money she’s spent on them, despite her wheedling of a new skateboarding helmet for Satsuki or new book for Kaede being too perfect to resist. Snorting, he checks his phone as it chimes.
[Katsuki] : ❤️
Grinning, Eijirou slides his phone back into his pocket so that he can examine Satsuki’s work. “Nice one, honey. Do you want to get yours done now, too?”
She nods and the girls swap places, though Kaede’s short stature means Eijirou has to lift her onto the counter. Her hands are clumsier than Satsuki’s as Eijirou shows her how to do a Dutch braid, brow furrowed in concentration.
“There,” she says, satisfied, when Eijirou helps her to secure the tie at the end of Satsuki’s hair. “Your hair is so pretty.”
“Both of you have pretty hair,” Eijirou corrects, hand on her shoulder. The sunlight streaming through the kitchen windows has turned Satsuki’s hair golden and created a glossy sheen in Kaede’s. “It’s such a nice day, isn’t it?”
“Yep.” Satsuki’s hands are at her hair, carefully feeling the braid. “Can we go into the garden?”
“Hmm. You’ll need sun cream.” The sun is a little too warm today, and his life wouldn’t be worth living if Katsuki came home and found them playing outside without sun protection. Eijirou scratches his chin, trying to think of when they last used it. “I think there’s some in one of the suitcases in the attic.”
“I want to go look in the attic!” Satsuki says at once, sitting up straighter in her seat. Eijirou blinks at her, bewildered.
“Why do you wanna look up there, honey?”
Satsuki shrugs. “Dunno. Just to look. Our Christmas decorations are up there; I wanna see the glass baubles Camie and Momo gave us.”
“They are pretty,” Eijirou acquiesces, having let Satsuki hung them on their tree the Christmas before while hovering out of fear they’d be dropped and smashed. “It’s dusty in the attic, though, and I bet there’s spiders lurking in the corners.”
“I’m not afraid of spiders,” Satsuki says, though her voice isn’t as strong as she perhaps hopes it is.
“You shouldn’t be,” Kaede tells her, “because spiders are good. They get rid of flies.”
“Some spiders,” Eijirou says hurriedly. “Little tiny ones are okay, but don’t go picking up any big or colourful ones you find, alright?” He glances down at Kaede, kicking her feet up and letting them fall back against the counter. “Do you want to come too, Kaede?” She nods, stretching her arms out and letting Eijirou pick her up to balance her on his hip once more. “I’ll get the ladder down and you go up first, Satsuki. I’ll follow behind you.”
Satsuki scrambles up the ladder the second its feet hit the floor and Eijirou follows, careful not to hit Kaede’s head on the ceiling as he carries her into the small roof space. He starts to search through the suitcases while the girls poke around the attic, peering into corners and cardboard boxes. There’s no great squeal or attempt to flee, which he takes to mean that there’s no spiders lurking in wait - that they’ve discovered, anyway. He’s just setting aside pairs of flip flops when Satsuki’s voice pipes up.
“What’s this?” He turns to see her kneeling beside a box, holding something up to her face and squinting at it. At her side, Kaede’s found one of her baby blankets and deposited it in her lap, rubbing the edge of it against her face as she peers at whatever Satsuki’s found.
Frowning, Eijirou makes his way over through the mess of boxes and bric-a-brac. He crouches beside them and Satsuki hands her discovery to him, still apparently none the wiser to what she’s found. On the other hand, Eijirou feels the breath catch in his chest at the sight of it: the ugly, bizarre clock with muscular arms protruding from either side of its face.
“Oh my God,” he says under his breath, his fingers leaving trails upon the face of the clock as they move through the dust lying heavy upon it. “Oh my God, I completely forgot this was up here.”
“What is it?” Kaede’s voice is slightly muffled by the blanket. “A clock?”
“Yeah.” Years upon years of other responsibilities pushed the clock from his mind completely, hidden as it was up here in the attic. A huff of laughter escapes from Eijirou’s chest as he turns it over in his hands, marvelling at the fact he simply forgot about what had been at the centre of a back-and-forth between himself and Katsuki. “Do you remember how me and Dad used to live far away when we first met?” They nod together. “Well, this used to be in my house in Osaka. I found it in a thrift store and couldn’t resist buying it.”
“It’s ugly,” Satsuki says, reaching out to trail the left arm with her fingertip, “but I kind of like it ‘cause it’s so ugly.”
A backhanded compliment, but a compliment all the same. “You really are my daughter,” Eijirou says fondly, and Satsuki offers him a grin. “Why do you think I bought it? I love ugly kitsch. You know, the only reason it’s up here is because your dad hates it.”
“He hates it?” Kaede echoes, confused. “Because it’s ugly?”
“Yep.” Pulling the cuff of his jumper over his hand, Eijirou sets about polishing the white face of the clock. “I brought it with me from Osaka, but Dad insisted he didn’t want to have it hanging in his house. I ended up putting it up here for safekeeping, since he kept taking it down and hiding it and I was worried one of us would end up accidentally breaking it.” Hiding it in his shoe drawer had been Katsuki’s most creative place, he thinks, having forgotten that Eijirou would go hunting there in search of shoe polish.
“Why would he do that? It isn’t his clock.” Scowling just like Katsuki, Satsuki tugs it from his hands and holds it up to the light. “I wouldn’t take it down if you put it up.”
Kaede nods along with her statement, and Eijirou pauses as a lightning bolt of inspiration strikes him. An idea that would drive Katsuki mad, surely, but one too petty and amusing to push from his mind. “What would you say,” he says slowly, “if I put it up in your room, girls?”
They blink at him, then at each other. “I don’t mind,” Kaede says, rubbing the edge of the blanket against her cheek. “It’s funny.”
“Yeah, put it up,” Satsuki interjects, chin raised. “I wanna see Dad’s face when he sees it - and Nozomi’s, next time she comes over.”
Eijirou can’t help his broad grin, presenting the clock to Satsuki to hold. “You hang onto this for me then, honey. Let’s go look for a hammer and nails.”
While Satsuki disappears into their room, clock held aloft, Kaede stays balanced on his hip with one arm wrapped around her throughout their search for tools in the garage. “What’s kit-shh?” she says abruptly. “You said the clock was kit-shh.”
“Kitsch, baby. It’s something that’s cheap and maybe not great quality, but that’s what makes it fun.” He hands a packet of nails to her, and she clutches them in chubby hands. “The gaudier and uglier the better, yeah?”
She hums in agreement, head resting against him. “Like how Grandma says your shoes are cheap?”
Eijirou snorts as he finally retrieves the hammer, heading off towards their room again with Kaede clinging tight. “Crocs aren’t cheap, they’re reliable. Don’t listen to Grandma Mitsuki - Granny and Nana raised me in Crocs and I turned out okay, didn’t I?”
Kaede nods vacantly. Eijirou knows she’s thinking of the framed photo of the four of them in his and Katsuki’s bedroom taken when she was still a baby, all of them posing in matching Crocs and cementing it as Mitsuki’s least favourite photo in existence.
They both end up on Satsuki’s bed, watching intently as Eijirou marks out where the nail needs hammered in. He strikes once, twice, then jumps as a chunk of plasterboard falls from the wall. “Oops.” He glances down at his wide-eyed audience. “It’s okay; the clock will cover it anyway. Just… don’t tell Dad.”
Their silence isn’t reassuring, but at least Satsuki isn’t wearing the expression that Eijirou knows means she’s going to run and tell Katsuki the second he steps through the door. Tongue clamped between his teeth in concentration, it’s a relief when the third blow of the hammer lodges the nail in almost completely while keeping the rest of the wall intact.
Hanging the clock upon it, Eijirou stands back to admire his handiwork. It’s completely at odds with the pale, duck egg blue of their room, but he thinks he likes the contrast. “What do you think?”
“I like it.” Satsuki tilts her head this way and that, brow furrowed. “Yeah. Cool.”
“Cool,” Kaede echoes, once again rubbing her blanket against her face. “Can we go into the garden now?”
Probably the best reaction he could’ve hoped for, Eijirou thinks to himself: the girls casually accepting the wall as just another piece of the decor. All that’s left is to hope Katsuki will do the same, lest Satsuki catches him trying to move it and subsequently screams the house down.
Katsuki himself returns when they’re midway through weeding the cabbage patch. The girls are in matching, oversized hats and sunglasses, and Satsuki’s slip down her nose as she lifts her head, trowel pausing above the soil. “I hear someone.”
Eijirou looks up from the pile of weeds to see Katsuki letting himself through the French doors. Dropping the bucket, he straightens automatically: the blond’s expression is neutral in a way that makes his chest clench at once. “How did it go?” he says, rising to his feet as Katsuki approaches. “What did they say?”
Katsuki lets out a long breath, hands shoved in his pockets. By Eijirou’s side the girls have fallen into silence, paused in the weeding as if frozen to the spot. “I got into an argument with my manager,” he says at last, and Eijirou’s heart seized as if grasped by an icy fist.
“Oh, Kats,” he says, agonised. “You didn’t - ”
“I didn’t start it,” he retorts, scowling at him. “He did, when I said it was a stand-alone novel and not one I’d be interested in writing a continuation for. He wanted sequels and I said no, because you know I hate unnecessary sequels. I battered him down by promising I’d publish any further original works through them, though.”
For a moment Eijirou simply blinks at him. It must be the sun, he thinks, the warmth of the day playing tricks on him. From the corner of his eye he sees Kaede glance up at him, a similarly confused expression on her face and seeking his insight. He swallows hard. “You - further books?”
“Yep.” Katsuki swings his shoulders slightly. “Whatever I come up with next. He wasn’t too fussy about the genre, just as long as the quality continues.”
“So,” Eijirou says, not daring to hope, “you sold him your book, and ones you haven’t even written yet?”
“Uh-huh. Publishing exclusivity for at least three books including this one, though I told him to expect a good, long break before I start writing the next.” And finally, finally, Katsuki’s face cracks into his typical smug smirk. “The advance on this one is more than enough for a few days to Greece on top of Italy.”
The bucket’s tossed aside entirely as Eijirou barrels towards him, sweeping him up in a bone-crushing hug. “Brilliant! Brilliant! I told you you’d do it!” He peppers Katsuki’s face with kisses, choosing to ignore his wriggling. “My husband, the author,” he adds, glowing at just saying the phrase aloud and knowing it to be official. “Kirishima Katsuki, Japan’s modern-day answer to Shakespeare.”
“Shakespeare wrote plays, idiot.” Katsuki’s fist comes down on the crown of his head, but there’s no weight behind it - and he can’t hide the beaming grin lighting his face like the sun.
“Hey!” Satsuki snaps. They turn to face her and find her with her hands on her hips, all four feet of her brimming with indignation. “I’m not allowed to say idiot, so why are you?”
“Very right, sweetie,” Eijirou says loftily, eyeing Katsuki. “Dad is so rude, isn’t he?”
“Uh-huh,” Satsuki says, but then pauses. “Well done, Dad.” She steps forwards and hugs Katsuki’s legs, her sunglasses sliding sideways in the process.
“Put me down,” Katsuki orders, and Eijirou returns him to ground level. He bends down to hug Satsuki properly, beckoning Kaede over until she stumbles into his arms, too. “Thank you both for being so patient with me.”
“S’okay,” Kaede says, her little voice muffled. “I’m happy they bought your book.”
Katsuki sighs, eyes closed and cheek pressed to her dark hair. “Me too, honey. Me too.”
As surreptitiously and silently as he can, Eijirou extracts his phone from his pocket and snaps a picture of the three of them. One to pull out at birthdays and graduations, he thinks. “We’re all very proud of Dad, aren’t we?” he says eventually, once Katsuki seems to have hugged them enough to make up for the last few months. “I’ve always said he was a genius, and only geniuses sell books they haven’t even written yet.”
“That was pretty smart,” Satsuki concedes, pulling away and shaking back her hair. “Can we get takeaway to celebrate? You can pay for it with all the money they gave you.”
Eijirou can’t help his snort of laughter, even if Katsuki’s sighing. “God, you’re turning out just like my mother.” Shaking his head, he straightens and frowns down at her. “Fine, fine. What do you want?”
“Pi-zza,” Satsuki says in a sing-song voice. “You like pizza, Kaede, don’t you?”
“You’ll have enough pizza in Italy, and don’t try and strong arm your sister into getting what you want,” Katsuki adds warningly.
“I’m not,” Satsuki says, glaring up at him. “Kaede’s favourite pizza is proshutto, and I don’t mind sharing it with her even if Hawaiian is better.”
“Prosciutto,” Eijirou corrects, because he knows they’ll start bickering if he plays Switzerland right now, or comments on Satsuki’s choice of toppings. “Kaede, do you want pizza?”
“Yep.” She’s still hanging onto Katsuki’s leg, rubbing her face. “A proshutto one. Please.”
“Anything you like.” Picking her up, Katsuki heaves her onto his hip. “I’ve missed your hugs, you know - and you’re still using that mango shampoo, aren’t you? It’s my favourite.”
She nods, and Eijirou reaches out to take Satsuki’s hand so as not to leave her behind. “They did a great job on each other’s hair, didn’t they? I hardly helped at all.”
It’s a white lie, but worth it for the way Satsuki preens under his praise. “Dad,” she says abruptly, chin lifted to meet Katsuki’s eyes, “come into our room. We’ve got something to show you.”
Eijirou can see her lips twitching with the effort of holding the smile back. Kaede’s not so subtle, breaking out in full-on grin. “Yeah, Dad.” She tugs at his collar. “Come see.”
A crease between his brows, Katsuki’s eyes flicker between them before settling on Eijirou. “What’s this something?” he says, instant suspicion in his tone. “What have you been up to?”
“So rude, isn’t he?” Eijirou sighs, swinging Satsuki’s arm as they follow them into the house. “You think he’d be excited to see this something.”
“Very rude,” Satsuki agrees. “Hey, is Nozomi still throwing up everywhere?”
“I don’t know,” Katsuki says over his shoulder, glancing back at them, “and I don’t know if she was even throwing up in the first place, ‘cause all Deku said is - ”
They never find out what Izuku said, as Katsuki stops in his tracks in the door to their bedroom. Fighting to hold back his glee, Eijirou watches the way his expression shifts from surprise, to shock, and finally to horror, all while Satsuki bounces by his side with a grin splitting her face. “Surprise!” she crows, delighted with herself. “Do you like it, Dad? ‘Cause we do!”
“Yeah,” Kaede adds, pulling herself away from Katsuki to see his expression, “we love it. Satsuki found it and Daddy put it up for us.”
Katsuki’s mouth opens and closes wordlessly. It’s been a long time since he’s been so lost for words, which in itself is a rare occasion. Come to think of it, there’s only two times Eijirou can think of Katsuki being left speechless: Camie tossing a positive pregnancy test at them almost seven years ago, and the time he came home from a particularly nasty industrial fire with a massive chunk of hair burnt off and still smouldering.
“It’s so ugly,” he says at last, and it sounds like a plea as his hand comes to cover his mouth. Supported by his other hand, Kaede begins to giggle. “Why would you - ?”
“Ugly things can be nice too,” Satsuki says stoutly. “Wind turbines are big and ugly, but they’re good for renewable energy.”
“Wind?” Katsuki looks bewildered, turning to her. “What have wind turbines got to do with anything?”
Satsuki shrugs. “We watched a documentary with Auntie Momo about renewable energy last time she was here,” she explains, slightly pityingly. “People don’t like them on the landscape but they’re good for the Earth.”
At a loss for words, Katsuki looks back to the clock, then at Eijirou. “They really are your kids,” he says eventually, shaking his head in a way Eijirou hopes is defeat. “Grandma Mitsuki will be devastated at their lack of taste.”
“Does Grandma Mitsuki know you sold your book?” Kaede pipes up.
“No, no yet. I wanted to tell you three first.” Readjusting her, Katsuki pinches between his brows with his free hand. “And you greet me with this.”
“You can’t take it down,” Eijirou warns him, feeling his lips twitch despite the attempt to be reprimanding, “because the girls wanted it up. You wouldn’t do that to them, would you?”
It really is defeat creasing Katsuki’s features when he shakes his head again. “How much did you pay them to put them up to this?”
“Not a thing!” Eijirou protests, and Satsuki nods vigorously. “Honestly, is it so hard to believe someone other than me likes the muscle clock?”
“Yes.” Katsuki sets Kaede down, hands moving to his hips. “It is. Well, I guess it’s just a pity that they got your taste and nothing from my side.”
Eijirou arches his eyebrows. “A pity? It’s because of my taste that I married you, so it can’t be that bad, can it? I wouldn’t have moved across the country and gotten a mortgage with just anyone, you know.”
Rubbing his jaw, Katsuki seems to evaluate his words. “No,” he says slowly, “I suppose not.” Casting one last glance back at the clock, the next words seem to pain him. “If the girls want it, then the clock can stay.”
“Thank you!” Satsuki sings, missing baby teeth on show as she grins. “Can we order the pizza now?”
“In a second,” Eijirou tells her, “once I’ve thanked your Dad for letting Muscle Clock stay.”
Choosing to ignore hers and Kaede’s shrieks of disgust, he wraps his arms around a smirking Katsuki’s waist to pull him into a slow kiss.