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12:52 blinked in vibrant green on the digital clock by Hisashi’s bedside. He lay there, in his warm, comfortable bed with his lovely wife for what felt like a mini millennium and waited. He turned his head to face the popcorn ceiling, making shapes in the darkness and wondering where he went wrong.
It had been a relatively relaxing day, he managed Izuku solo for the day, while his wife took a much-needed day off. Not too difficult, his son was an angel, only making a small fuss when he scraped his knee outside earlier. And a quick healing quirk fixed that ailment easy enough.
They played heroes and villains together and he got to practice his fire breath out in a new way. He stomped around in their backyard like a dragon protecting its hoard and blew a large blast of fire into the air. And Izuku, being the little connoisseur of quirks he was, had to stop and gawk, losing their little game. It was alright however, because that's how they spent the rest of their afternoon. They analyzed the strength of fire breath, blew intricate rings of smoke in the air that made Izuku laugh, with their backs against the plush grass.
So, overall, the day was just demanding enough to have him slumbering in a satisfying sleep.
But no…
Here he was, wide awake at almost 1 in the morning. Not from a nightmare either, not from a dream of his little brother or that blond oaf, simply because his mind wouldn’t shut up.
It was like the other parents at Izuku’s school, chattering incessantly about unimportant mumbo jumbo like hero society and which kids could be heroes or not. And his brain had the gall to be just like that, chattering about nothing important, like what Izuku wanted for breakfast or what other tricks he could perform with fire breath.
At the ungodly hour of 12:52 in the morning, he was thinking of all the party tricks he could perform with his, otherwise, deadly quirk. He remembers when he melted a subordinates face off with this god-forsaken quirk, now he’s thinking of whether he can turn the flame green instead of orange.
He halted his staring contest with the ceiling in favor of checking the clock again.
At 12:53 in the morning, Hisashi suppressed a miserable groan and scrubbed his hands across his face, letting his arms collapse dramatically to his sides. At times like these, he really wondered if finding a sleep quirk would be more worthwhile than another lethal one. He had plenty of lethal quirks in his arsenal, one that could knock himself out on demand, now that was more interesting.
He gingerly swung his legs to the side, hoisting himself into a sitting position. He made eye contact with the vanity mirror and sighed. His thick nest of white bed head looked almost like a beacon in the dark room. It desperately needed a trim as it curled around the edges and was difficult to brush through. Despite that, he licked his palm and tried to brush it down and it worked, only for about a second before it doubled in size once again. He huffed, rising to his feet with an audible pop to his knees. Hisashi turned back to his wife, leisurely wrapping the blanket back around her delicately and planting a kiss to her forehead before lumbering towards the door to their bedroom.
Hisashi slowly slid the door open, wincing at the sharp screech of wood before closing it. He sighed, craving a warm cup of Camomile tea with a shot of honey as he trucked down the dark hallway.
- thunk-
Hisashi turned his head towards the location of the sound. It didn’t come from his bedroom, it sounded far too close, he thought as his gaze landed on the dark sliding door of his son’s bedroom. He paused, squinting at the dark oak before sighing and making his way to the door.
He slid the door open just enough to peek inside and noticed a small ball spaced lump under the blankets on Izuku’s bed. The light of a flashlight highlighting the silhouette of Izuku’s figure curled under the blanket, a low string of mumbles coming from underneath. Hisashi quietly walked into the room, sliding the door shut behind him.
Izuku’s head immediately popped out from under the blanket like a mole. Hisashi couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his cheeks at his son’s frazzled expression.
“Izuku, what did I say about playing with your toys at bedtime.” Hisashi sat beside the boy on his All Might themed bed.
The boy scratched his right ear nervously, avoiding his father’s stare to gaze down at the All Might figurine in his hand.
“I know Papa, I just couldn’t sleep.” He mumbled sheepishly, ducking his head.
Hisashi hummed, plucking the All Might figure from Izuku’s hands and with stilted delicacy placed it on Izuku’s bedside. “Well, I don’t think All Might is going to help.” He stated simply, Izuku pouted, staring longingly at his figurine.
Hisashi rolled onto his back on the bed, pulling his son to lay down beside him. “Children need plenty of rest, you don’t want to be too tired to play tomorrow, right?”
“No, Papa.” Izuku mumbled, resting his head against his father's shoulder, biting his bottom lip before finishing, “You can’t sleep either?”
Hisashi blinked, a little surprised before answering, “Unfortunately not.” he whispered, staring at the popcorn ceiling. Izuku nodded.
He could make out the dark outlines of various shapes on the ceiling, lumpy faces, fireworks, and one in particular resembled a sheep. Hisashi pulled his son closer to his side, plastering their sides together on the tiny twin mattress, a small smile graced his features.
“Do you want to play a game to help us fall asleep?” He gazed down at his son, who enthusiastically nodded his head.
“What’s the game?”
“We count sheep, Izuku. We imagine little sheep and count them; it’s supposed to help us fall asleep.” Hisashi explained.
Izuku didn’t seem too thrilled by the suggestion, but he didn’t protest, “Okay,” he whispered. Hisashi returned his gaze to the ceiling and Izuku followed, eyeing his father curiously.
“Close your eyes.” Izuku listened, eyes fluttering shut. Then a pause, neither moved nor spoke a word in their little space. It didn’t take long before Izuku began to fidget, not understanding what his father was supposed to be doing. Was he supposed to count in his head?
“1 sheep.” His father suddenly spoke, making Izuku jump at the sudden hand in his hair.
“Hey!” Izuku giggled, hands trying to swat away his father's hand. “I’m not a sheep!”
“You aren’t?” Hisashi asked innocently, grip unfaltering.
“No!” The child denied, “2 Sheep!” He pointed a finger at Hisashi's chest, and he baulked.
“How am I a sheep but you aren’t?” Hisashi griped, Izuku grinned widely.
“B-because…” He faltered, “I said so.” He finished, puffing his chest out with a large grin.
Hisashi pouted, “well alright, if you’re not a sheep, then neither am I.” He finished, curling a strand of Izuku’s unruly hair around his pointer finger.
“But if we’re not sheep, then what are we gonna count?” He questioned, and Izuku did really ponder this, finger and thumb poised on his chin in contemplation. He glanced around his bedroom for a moment before making his decision.
“We can count the All Mights!” He exclaimed with a self-satisfied smile on his face.
“No.” Hisashi deadpanned, Izuku deflated, and Hisashi stared at the ceiling.
“We should count the fluffy things that remind us of sheep, excluding you Izuku.” He offered. Izuku nodded, accepting the compromise.
“1 sheep.” Hisashi started, pointing towards the sherpa blanket wrapped around them, Izuku’s gaze darted around the bedroom.
“2 sheep.” Izuku gasped pointing towards a sheep stuffed animal in the corner.
“3 sheep.” Hisashi pointed out the window at the fluffy clouds in the night sky.
Izuku’s face scrunched up in determination, rolling onto an elbow to get a better look at the rest of his room.
He smacked the pillow with a grin. “S-sheep!” He turned to look at his father. “Sheep?”
“How many sheep have we counted thus far, little one?” Hisashi asked patiently, “Remember to count on your fingers.”
Izuku nodded, taking a tiny fist and counting up to “3, 4. 4 Sheep Papa!”
Hisashi grinned, nodding. “That’s right, little one.” He ruffled Izuku’s hair. “What comes after 4?”
“5!” Izuku exclaimed, full five fingers held up in the air for his father to see.
Hisashi’s grin grew wider, “5 sheep, little one.” His hand is still poised in Izuku’s hair, and the boys’ face scrunches up, settling back down beside his father. He rubs a hand across his eyes, then raising the thumb of his right hand he mutters “6 sheep.” And raises a small hand that lightly smacks against his father’s cheek. Hisashi lets out a low chuckle in response.
He looked over at the All Might, digital clock on the bedside, 1:30AM, he blinked drearily, eyelids feeling a little heavier than before.
“I thought.” Hisashi’s gaze drifted down to his son, “that we were supposed to use our imaginations.” Izuku slurred. The child was staring, eyes half-lidded, at the ceiling, his arms strewn across his stomach. Hisashi rested his head on top of his son’s, nodding into the child's hair.
“Yes. But I thought this was the better option.” He responded. Izuku hummed.
“Are you tired?” Hisashi asked, Izuku shook his head as best he could in their position. “Nope. Are you?”
Hisashi nodded, “Unfortunately.” he responded. And it was quiet, peaceful even. The room was filled with shades of dark azure from the window. Hisashi glanced outside, the stars shining down like diamonds as little flecks of snow flitted down from the few clouds in the sky. He sighed.
“I think it’s time for bed, little one.” He whispered but didn’t get a response. He glanced down, Izuku’s eyes were closed, his head tilted into his father's shoulder, as a little line of drool dribbled past his lip. Hisashi’s eyes crinkled at the sight, wiping the drool away and settling down beside his son.
He closed his eyes, a small smile curling his lips. And he felt warm, despite the cold night.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Inko pressed a hand over her heart, a fond smile softening her sleepy face.
She’d been worried, when she woke that morning to find her husband not beside her. But after some searching, she realized her worries were in vain.
Early morning light crept through the open window, highlighting the precious scene in front of her. There was her adoring husband, a large intimidating man, curled up in a bed far too small for him, with their son sleeping against his chest. The blankets covered Izuku, but as they descended, they were half tangled in Hisashi’s legs and falling off the side. She suppressed a laugh.
She made sure to tuck the two back in properly, and if she took a few pictures before that, well they didn’t need to know.