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Izuku sighed as the pencil he was using to scribble notes snapped. It just wasn't his day, he decided. He'd woken up late and came sliding into class without any time for breakfast. Aizawa had given him a dark look, which always made him feel bad, even when he wasn't in—a headspace. Izuku was driven by praise, no matter what. His heart was the biggest reason that All Might had chosen him, after all.
He fished through his bag and pulled out another pencil. Of course, when he moved his bag back, he fumbled it and the whole thing spilled. Aizawa cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow as the rest of the class giggled.
“Pick it up, Midoriya.” he sighed. There was redness on the teen's cheeks as he scrambled to put everything back. He kept his eyes down the rest of the lesson. When it was finally English, he thought he might get a little bit of relief. Even if he couldn't say or do anything in public, Hizashi had a way of looking at Izuku and just knowing. He was able to subtly walk by and touch the top of his head, or brush his hand against his.
It was usually enough. It was usually enough to steady him. It was a grounding gesture. If nothing else, it would get him through the rest of the day. He waited eagerly for English, his feet dragging against one another as he sat in his chair.
“Change of plans,” Aizawa strolled in, looking exhausted still. “We're going to have some hero training. I'll escort you to the training grounds, and then All Might and Thirteen can take it from there.”
Izuku couldn't help but deflate a little. He knew it was silly, but he just wanted to see Papa, even if it was just for a few minutes. He sighed and followed the class to the training grounds. And his day did not get better, as he tripped over some rubble before he could even begin to exercise. His knees stung on impact, and he was embarrassed at the way that his eyes burned, too.
It seemed to throw him off, as he was easily defeated first by Sero and then Tsu. Part of him knew that he should grit his teeth, come back harder. But a louder part of him wanted to go and get Papa or Daddy. Probably not Daddy, he amended. He was probably still mad over the spilled backpack earlier today.
The torture ended, and All Might gave him a frown. It was enough to make Izuku shrink back on himself as he slunk away to the showers. He was redressed quickly, and dragged to lunch. The line was endless, of course, and all that seemed to be left when he was there was plums and rice. He didn't even have time to ask Lunch Rush for something else.
He picked at his rice, ignoring the plums, before hauling himself to math. Before he could step in though, there was Yamada, reaching for him, his hand on his shoulder. Izuku looked up at him, eyes wet and wide.
Shouta had been right then, Hizashi thought. Izuku was not having a good day, and too much more was likely to tip him into headspace. As it was, he was biting on his lower lip, trying hard not to let tears spill over. Usually, Yamada would make up some excuse, say something about having to look over an assignment. But none of the other students were looking at them or seemed to care.
It was easy enough to sweep him towards the office he shared with his husband. The glass on the door was frosted, and no one could see. He ushered his kid in and closed the door. They kept the lights on low for Shouta's chronic dry eye, and gentle music piped in for extra calming.
“What's the matter, baby?”
“Papa!” he gasped out, finally feeling the damn break. He dropped his backpack and held out his arms. Yamada made a sympathetic sound and gathered him up, sitting in his big office chair, settling Izuku on his lap. The boy's head found a home on his shoulder, crying as he did. Yamada didn't say anything, just played with his green curls.
No sense talking to him when he's this worked up, he thought. Best let him settle down. Sometimes babies just needed a good cry. When Izuku had cried himself out and was down to sniffling, he reached for tissues and helped the baby blow.
“Now do you wanna tell me what's wrong? Hmm?” he rubbed his back. “Papa can only help if he knows what's wrong.”
“Everything.” Izuku said dramatically. Yamada bit back the laugh that was bubbling up inside of him. The kid could always try to go for the stage if he the hero gig didn't work out. Instead, he cuddled him closer and kissed his temple.
“Can you give me specifics?”
“Spilled my bag, and Daddy didn't like it.” he rubbed at his eyes. Hizashi frowned. It wasn't like Shouta to care about something like that. “Missed breakfast, and I fell down, Papa, and it hurt my knees. And All Might was mad, and lunch was gross.”
“Oh, that does sound like a terrible day.” he agreed. “Why didn't you tell Daddy you needed a minute with him? Or me?”
A minute was usually resolved for the most desperate cases. Typically all it took was a hug and a rub on his back, a kiss on his head. A few gentle whispered words, promises of what they could do that evening, and Izuku would be fine for the rest of the day. This was a little bit deeper than that.
“Wanted you, but English was switched.” he mumbled.
That was right. Yamada could have smacked himself in the forehead. He did have to switch up English class with 1-A to get some work done with some of the business students. They were having a hard time with some of the translations that they'd like need to understand eventually.
“Why didn't you ask Daddy?” he persisted. Izuku looked at him like he was an idiot.
“Daddy's mad at me.” he repeated.
“I don't think so.” he reached for the phone on the desk and cradled it to his ear. He tapped in a few numbers and waited for a voice on the other line.
“Hey hot stuff, I got a lap full of a baby singing the blues.” he listened for a moment and then hung up. “Daddy will be here in a minute.”
“Problem Child?” Shouta called softly as he closed the door behind him. “What's wrong?” he looked—concerned. He didn't look mad, or frustrated, or irritated, or any of the other things that Izuku was sure he was feeling. He could only whimper and put his arms up.
“Oh kiddo,” he took the baby from his husband, let him settle against his chest.
“Zuzu was telling me that he he has a terrible day. He missed breakfast, lunch was gross, he fell down in training and hurt his knees, he didn't get to see me for English. Oh, and he thinks All Might is mad and that you're mad at him.” Hizashi ticked everything off on his fingers.
“Mad?” Shouta looked at the fluffy green hair and freckles in his arms. “What made you think that?”
“My b-bag spilled.” he stuttered. “And you just glared at me a-and told me to pick it up.”
“I'm not mad!” he hugged him tightly. “I am not. I was just in the middle of something important, and everyone was giggling. I was frustrated that no one was paying attention. I wasn't mad at you. You didn't do anything wrong.” he rubbed Izuku's scalp.
“And you know what?”
“What?” he asked softly, looking up with those big green eyes that always left Shouta feeling breathless peered up at him, all love and innocence.
“All Might isn't mad at you, either.” he let the backs of his fingers rub Izuku's cheek.
“He isn't?” something inside of him lit up.
“No, baby. He was worried there was something wrong. He came to me to ask if you were okay. He knows that Hizashi and I are your guardians. He was worried, that was all. He wasn't mad.” Izuku burrowed into Shouta's chest. His fingers drew small patterns on Shouta's shirt for a moment.
“I'm sorry it's been a lousy day.”
“Not your fault.” the kid swallowed hard. His eyes had that dreamy look to them, he was sliding down fast. Likely Shouta had tipped him over with the cuddles and assuring him in that deep, steady voice of his. Sure enough, the baby was nearly collapsed against him.
“Not yours either. Bad days happen, kiddo. We can try again tomorrow.” he said. The baby just hummed, nuzzling into his sweater. He rearranged the baby so his legs were wrapped around his waist, his arms around his neck.
“I think someone needs to go home and have his owie knees looked over, get into some comfy clothes, and have a cuddle.”
“I think you're right.” Hizashi grinned and began to lock up his desk and shut down his computer. It was close enough to the end of the day. 1-A had free period at the end of the day anyway. No one would miss them. Hizashi snatched up the yellow backpack off the floor and happily followed his husband and baby out of the building.