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There were a few days over winter vacation where everyone went home, only a small handful of students staying with Nedzu.
Izuku hadn't quite known how much he had missed his home until they moved back in for the whole two weeks of vacation.
Especially the roof.
Which was why he had persuaded his brother to have a picnic on the roof, both of them wearing several layers of clothing. Izuku also had his favorite blanket wrapped around his shoulders.
Hitoshi had looked pretty grumpy at having to do this, he hated the cold, right up until Izuku had blatantly bribed him with coffee.
"It feels kind of mean to leave Eri out," the purple-haired boy remarked, taking a sip of his coffee.
Izuku sighed softly. Hitoshi had taken better to being a big brother than the greenette had.
Much better.
Sure, he was nice to Eri and he made her feel welcome, but he was overwhelmed by her presence quite often. He also, much to his shame, experienced small bits of jealousy when his fathers doted on her.
It was pathetic.
She deserved it and so much more after all and she'd had a terrible life.
But still. His therapist said that his feelings were valid even if they weren't fair.
"Papa is taking her to the park anyway," he replied.
The brainwasher nodded. "And you need to get away from her for a bit?", he guessed.
Izuku sighed again, setting his cup down to rub at his eyes. "Does that make me a terrible person?", he asked softly.
Hitoshi immediately made a noise of protest and Izuku was glad at the lack of hesitation.
"Izuku," his brother began and when he stayed silent after, Izuku abandoned his eyes to look at the boy.
The other's lavender eyes were eternally soft and kind as he regarded the freckled teen.
"Izuku," Hitoshi repeated. "We felt that way about each other at first too. Remember? We used to not even acknowledge each other. This is a whole lot better than that."
"I know, but with mom," Izuku started, before he suddenly couldn't speak, tears welling up in his eyes.
"Hey, hey," his usually so snarky brother said in a gentle voice he seemed to have copied straight off their blonde father when he was comforting them. Hitoshi awkwardly scooted over to Izuku, slowly reaching out and tugging him into a hug when he wasn't stopped.
The greenette let out a nearly inaudible sob.
"Change is hard. Eri is a traumatized child and so are we and it's only natural that we feel threatened or overwhelmed or both. That doesn't mean that we like her any less or that we won't be good brothers. It just means that we are complicated humans with complicated feelings in a complicated situation."
Izuku didn't think that he'd heard Hitoshi say that much at once before, unless one counted the Taylor Swift rant he'd gone on.
For a few moments, he allowed himself to soak up the words and then he opened his mouth, desperate to make a joke and release the tension in the air.
"Did you copy that speech from your therapist?", he asked, chuckling wetly.
"Rude," Hitoshi predictably exclaimed, disentangling himself from the freckled teen and scooting back to his original position. Only then, did he passive aggressively roll his eyes. "See if I'll be emotional support for you again."
Izuku giggled, eyes still wet, reaching out to take a cinnamon roll from the plate in their middle. "No, I do appreciate it," he said, a bit more seriously.
"I know, don't you worry your green brain off," Hitoshi reassured him and the green-haired boy stuck his tongue out at him.
"Now," Hitoshi started. "Tell me about Tokoyami."
"Tokoyami?" Izuku tilted his head, trying to figure out what the other wanted from him.
"Did he try to kiss you again after that first time?", his brother asked eagerly.
The cinema thing had been… awkward. Or it would have been if Izuku felt awkward.
In fact, he had more so found it puzzling and a little bit amusing when his friend had tried to kiss him.
He'd also made it very clear that he did not want to kiss him back.
"No, why would he? I told him that I don't want that," he replied with a shrug.
Hitoshi paused briefly. "Well yes, but he hasn't exactly given up, has he?"
Izuku took a bite of cinnamon heaven.
"I'm not sure what you mean," he replied after swallowing."
"You know. The dates?" The brainwasher gestured vaguely.
Izuku prided himself on his analytical mind and on being able to pick apart any social situation in seconds, saying the right thing at the right time with no issues, but he seemed to be missing something.
"We're going as friends," he told his brother who paused again and then smirked into his coffee.
"I see," he replied simply.
But before Izuku could ask him what exactly he 'saw', the door to the roof opened and their newest sibling came bouncing out.
"Izu-nii, Toshi-nii," she exclaimed happily and even if Izuku had wanted to get away from her for a while, he couldn't help the smile at the nicknames.
"Yes, Eri-chan?" Hitoshi asked, putting down his coffee cup to catch her when she threw herself at him.
Izuku nibbled on his cinnamon roll, watching the interaction.
"Hizashi-san took me to the park to see the ducks," she explained solemnly.
"Ducks?" Izuku asked. "In this snow?"
"Yes," Eri exclaimed and the greenette hid a wince at the volume. "There is this woman and she looks after them. She has a- uhm sun quirk."
"Ah," Izuku made.
It had taken a long time until they had gotten Eri to stop talking about curses when she mentioned quirks.
"That's wonderful," Hitoshi said with a smile he reserved for Eri, indulgent and adoring.
He really did make quite the good older brother.
The white-haired child however was fixed on Izuku with sudden intensity.
"Are you sad?", she asked. Ever since their dads had explained emotions to her, she was intent on figuring out what everyone was feeling at all times.
She was good at it too.
"A bit," he admitted, because she realized when one was lying and their fathers had impressed on the brothers that they mustn't do that.
"Why?", she questioned and Izuku hesitated.
His green eyes met Hitoshi's purple ones and his brother shrugged.
Helpful.
"I fear that I haven't been a very good brother to you," he admitted bluntly.
Hitoshi raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment.
"You have been the best brothers," she declared, pumping her tiny fist into the air.
Izuku couldn't help himself, he chuckled.
Eri smiled, evidently proud of herself.
"Hug?", she asked.
'Hug," he affirmed and she vaulted herself over the food in their midst in a daring maneuver.
Izuku caught her and she giggled.
"Papa gives me a bandaid when I have a booboo," she confided with wide, red eyes.
Izuku exchanged another look with Hitoshi who looked like he was holding back laughter. Or a coo. It was hard to tell sometimes.
"You need a bandaid too," she concluded, even if he wasn't sure how she had gotten there. "They make you not sad."
Aha.
Hitoshi was now outright laughing, but he still abandoned the food and followed them when Eri pulled Izuku downstairs, clutching his coffee mug like it was a life saver.
Knowing his brother's amount of sleep, it probably was.
Their dads were both in the living room when they wandered past, looking alarmed when they took in Izuku's face which probably showed signs of tears.
"He needs a bandaid," Eri told them.
Hitoshi shook his head and the two adults furrowed their brows, but relaxed again as their children trudged into the bathroom.
Eri picked out a pink princess bandaid that he knew for a fact was her favorite, since she'd been holding it back to keep it longer. His eyes were stinging again, this time because he was moved.
"There," she said, sounding satisfied after taping the bandaid to Izuku's cheek.
Hitoshi was shaking with laughter in the background, but the girl was focused on Izuku.
"Sister bandaid," she said softly, looking up at him with her too wide eyes, the color of crimson. Worried, as if he'd tell her that they weren't siblings.
'Sister bandaid," he confirmed and she beamed. "Thanks, Eri. You're the best little sister."
She smiled brighter and then her eyes turned to Hitoshi.
"I want to do your hair," she declared.
Izuku laughed loudly as Hitoshi's eyes grew horrified.
"Sister hair," he said solemnly from behind Eri.
Hitoshi very much looked like he wanted to flip him off, but couldn't in front of the child.
Izuku laughed harder.