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Shinsou adjusted the baby carrier, his fingers brushing over Sakura’s tiny hand as she clutched at the fabric of his hoodie. She gurgled softly, blinking up at him with big, curious eyes, and he couldn’t help the warm smile that tugged at his lips.
“Stop staring, she’s fine,” Bakugou grumbled, though his tone was far from harsh, as he too smiled down at their little baby. He shifted the diaper bag on his shoulder and knocked on the door with his free hand. “Let’s get this over with. I want to see the look on the old man’s face.”
Shinsou shot him a look, amusement flickering in his gaze. “You’re way too excited about this.”
“Damn right I am. You didn’t see the cockatoo's face last time I showed up without warning. Guy nearly dropped his stupid record player.”
Before Shinsou could respond, the door swung open to reveal Yamada Hizashi, his signature grin in place. “Hey, hey! It’s our favorite—” He froze mid-sentence, his gaze dropping to the baby carrier. His jaw slackened. “Is that a baby?”
“'Zashi, who’s at the door?” Aizawa’s voice called from somewhere inside.
“Sho! Uh, you’re gonna want to see this!” Yamada called, his voice a mix of shock and excitement. He remained frozen in place, his wide eyes fixed on Sakura as though she were a miracle dropped right onto their doorstep.
Seconds later, Aizawa appeared behind him, his brow furrowed in confusion. His dark eyes scanned the scene—the baby snug against Shinsou’s chest, Bakugou leaning casually against the doorframe with a diaper bag slung over his shoulder. Slowly, Aizawa’s gaze narrowed. His arms crossed in that familiar way that screamed, Start talking now.
“Explain,” he demanded, his voice flat but edged with curiosity.
Shinsou, ever the calm one under pressure, raised a hand in a half-wave. “Yes. Hello. Nice to see you too. How have I been? Great! Thanks for asking,” he replied smoothly, sarcasm dripping from every word.
Bakugou snorted, smirking at Aizawa’s unimpressed glare.
“And this,” Shinsou continued, patting the baby carrier lightly, “is Sakura. She’s ours.”
“Ours?” Aizawa echoed, his eyes narrowing further. His tone was sharp, but there was a flicker of something softer underneath.
“Yeah, as in ours ,” Bakugou chimed in, stepping forward and leaning just enough to block the doorway from closing. “She’s my cousin’s kid. Long story short, she didn’t have anyone else. So now she’s ours. Got a problem with that, old man?”
Aizawa blinked, his expression unreadable. His silence stretched for a beat too long, and Yamada, still standing frozen beside him, broke the tension.
“Uh, Grandpa over here is processing,” Yamada quipped, a slow grin spreading across his face. “But me ? I’m thrilled! Look at this tiny bean!”
Shinsou couldn’t suppress a chuckle, glancing down at Sakura, who was now blinking up at everyone with wide, curious eyes. “Tiny bean is one way to describe her.”
“I’ve got others,” Yamada replied, already leaning in for a closer look at Sakura. “Angel? Sunshine? Literal perfection?”
“Keep going,” Bakugou muttered dryly. “We’ll be here all night.”
Aizawa let out a long sigh, finally breaking his silence. “You two thought it was a good idea to not tell us about this and just… show up unannounced?”
“Would you have preferred an email?” Shinsou deadpanned.
“Maybe a text,” Yamada added helpfully.
“Or a smoke signal,” Bakugou grumbled.
Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet you keep us around,” Shinsou replied smoothly, his lips twitching into a faint smirk.
At that moment, Sakura let out a soft, contented coo, drawing everyone’s attention. Aizawa’s gaze softened imperceptibly as he studied the tiny bundle nestled against Shinsou. His expression remained mostly neutral, but there was no mistaking the faint tug at the corners of his mouth.
Eri, having overheard the commotion, poked her head around the corner. “What’s going on? Why’s everyone—” She stopped mid-sentence, her gaze falling on Sakura. Her eyes widened. “Is that a baby ?”
“Congratulations, kid, you’re an auntie now,” Bakugou said, smirking at her stunned expression.
Eri’s shock quickly turned to delight, and she practically bolted forward. “Oh my gosh! Why didn’t you tell me?!”
“You have a baby ?!” she squealed, hurrying over. Her gaze softened as she spotted Sakura, who was blinking sleepily up at all the new faces. “Oh my gosh, she’s so cute ! Can I hold her?”
“Careful, Eri,” Bakugou teased, dropping the diaper bag on the floor. “She bites.”
“Shut up, Uncle Boom,” Eri shot back, sticking her tongue out at him before turning to Shinsou. “Can I hold her?”
“Sure,” Shinsou said, carefully unbuckling Sakura and placing her in Eri’s waiting arms. “Support her head.”
“ I know how to hold a baby, ” Eri replied with a roll of her eyes, cradling Sakura with practiced ease. She grinned down at the little girl. “Hi, Sakura. I’m Eri. Your favorite big sister-slash-aunt.”
“She’s not even two months old, and you’re already playing favorites,” Bakugou muttered.
“Yeah, and I’m winning,” Eri shot back, sticking her tongue out at him.
Yamada laughed loudly, clapping Aizawa on the back. “Sho, you’ve got a whole new family dynamic to deal with now. Hope you’re ready!”
Aizawa sighed again, though his lips quirked up into the barest of smiles. “As if I ever had a choice.”
Yamada, catching the subtle shift in Aizawa’s expression, grinned triumphantly. “Ha! I knew it! You’re already smitten. Admit it, Sho.”
“Don’t push your luck,” Aizawa replied dryly, brushing past him and turning his attention back to the couple standing by the door. His gaze landed on Bakugou, who was in the middle of shucking off his shoes with a practiced efficiency that somehow still managed to look aggressive.
Bakugou, entirely unfazed, looked him dead in the eye, his smirk practically daring.
“I hate you,” Aizawa muttered, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward despite himself, his tone tinged with mock exasperation.
Bakugou cackled, utterly unfazed, as he set down the baby’s things and switched his shoes for a pair of slippers waiting by the door. “Yeah, yeah, keep tellin’ yourself that,” he shot back, his smirk only widening.
Shinsou, already in his slippers, slipped an arm casually around Bakugou’s waist, pulling him closer with a quiet chuckle. “Nah, you love us. Admit it, Grandpa .”
Aizawa’s eyes narrowed, but the faintest snort escaped him. “Ours,” he murmured, the word quieter this time, as though he were testing its weight, rolling it around in his mind. His gaze flicked to Sakura, nestled snugly in Eri’s arms, and the lines of his usually sharp expression softened. After a beat, he gave a small nod. “Alright.”
Yamada, standing nearby, gasped as though Aizawa had just declared something outrageous. “Wait, wait, wait. Did you just approve of something?” He threw a dramatic arm around Aizawa’s shoulder, leaning heavily on him. “Quick, someone write this down! Sho’s gone soft!”
“Off me,” Aizawa grumbled, shrugging Yamada off with minimal effort. “You’re lucky I don’t throw you out for that.”
“Pfft. As if. You’re just mad because they called you ‘grandpa,’” Yamada teased, wagging a finger in his direction. “But, hey, if the shoe fits...”
“Do you want to be the next thing that fits in the trash?” Aizawa shot back, his tone dry but betrayed by the faint upward tug of his lips.
Meanwhile, Eri, entirely uninterested in the adults’ banter, was cooing at Sakura, gently swaying side to side. “Sakura, don’t listen to them,” she whispered conspiratorially. “They’re all loud and weird, but I’ll teach you how to deal with them, okay?”
Shinsou watched the interaction, his expression softening. “She’s good with her,” he said quietly, leaning into Bakugou.
“Yeah, well,” Bakugou muttered, his tone gruff but fond. “She’s always been a natural. Brat’s got a way with people.”
Eri glanced up, catching their words. “Of course I’m good with her,” she said, raising a sassy eyebrow. “I’m already her favorite person, right, Sakura?” She held the baby’s tiny hand in hers, grinning as Sakura babbled something incoherent but clearly happy. “See? She totally agrees.”
Yamada, ever the instigator, pointed dramatically. “Bakugou! You’ve got competition for favorite parent already.”
“Like hell I do!” Bakugou barked, though he made no move to dislodge Shinsou’s arm around him. “She’s two seconds away from realizing I’m the best. Right, Gremlin?”
Sakura let out a delighted squeal at the sound of his voice, her little arms flailing. Eri held her up slightly. “Looks like she’s debating it,” she said, her grin almost as sharp as Bakugou’s.
“Brat,” Bakugou muttered, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward as he leaned into Shinsou a little more.
Shinsou chuckled softly, giving Bakugou’s side a gentle squeeze. “Face it, Kats. Eri’s already got this in the bag. Might as well let her have it.”
“Over my dead body,” Bakugou replied, though his tone lacked any real heat.
Aizawa watched the exchange quietly, his gaze moving from the baby to the two young men standing together. His mouth twitched again, this time into something closer to a smile. “She’s got a good family,” he said softly, the words almost lost under the continued teasing and laughter.
Shinsou glanced his way, his voice quiet but steady. “We do.”
And just like that, Aizawa’s soft expression returned to a deadpan as Yamada slung an arm around him again. “See? Sho approves! Group hug?”
“I didn’t say that,” Aizawa muttered, shaking him off.
“You didn’t not say it,” Yamada teased, turning his bright grin on Shinsou this time. “Look at you, Hitoshi, all grown up with a baby! Next thing I know, you’ll be wearing one of those ‘World’s Best Dad’ mugs.”
Shinsou arched an eyebrow, unimpressed. “I think you mean using one of those mugs. You don’t wear mugs, Pa.”
Yamada cackled, undeterred. “There he is! Dad jokes already! I’m so proud.”
Shinsou sighed, shaking his head, though his lips twitched upward in the faintest smile. “You’re insufferable.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Yamada said, waving him off with an exaggerated flourish. “I know you love me. Don’t deny it.”
As the teasing settled, Yamada leaned against the wall, still beaming. He glanced at the small family they’d formed, his grin softening slightly. “I gotta say, this is the best surprise you two have ever pulled.”
“'Zashi, don’t encourage them,” Aizawa muttered, though his gaze softened as it lingered on Sakura.
“You’re just mad you didn’t know first,” Yamada teased, nudging Aizawa in the ribs. “Come on, admit it. You’re smitten.”
“I don’t get smitten,” Aizawa replied, stepping closer to get a better look at Sakura. His voice softened. “She’s… small.”
“She’s a baby, genius,” Bakugou deadpanned, earning a snort from Yamada.
Aizawa ignored him, his fingers brushing lightly over Sakura’s cheek. “She’s lucky to have you two.”
Shinsou met his gaze, something unspoken passing between them. “Thanks.”
“You’re both so soft,” Yamada interjected, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I never thought I’d see the day. You, a dad, and Bakugou… what even is Bakugou in this situation?”
“Dad,” Bakugou said firmly, crossing his arms.
“Wow, didn’t even hesitate,” Yamada said, cackling. Then, with a wicked grin, he added, “Actually, you know what? Scratch that—I was thinking more like Mom , seeing as how you’re the one cooking, cleaning, and keeping the house running.”
“ HEY !” Shinsou cut in, offended. “I help!”
Bakugou, however, snorted unapologetically, clearly unbothered. “He’s not wrong,” he said, smirking. “You can’t cook to save your life, Toshi. Who do you think keeps all three of us alive?”
Shinsou groaned, pointing an accusatory finger at Bakugou. “I keep us organized. That’s just as important as cooking!”
“Oh, absolutely,” Yamada said, nodding with exaggerated seriousness. “You’re the manager. Bakugou’s the one actually holding it all together. Totally a mom move.”
“I’ll show you a mom move,” Bakugou growled, though his smirk gave him away. “Keep talking, Yamada, and I’ll throw you out the damn window.”
“That’s definitely a mom move,” Yamada quipped, stepping further out of Bakugou’s reach but grinning all the same.
Eri, who had been quietly watching the banter while holding Sakura, piped up with a teasing grin of her own. “You know, he’s kinda got a point. Kacchan does lecture us when we don’t put our dishes away.”
“See? Even the kid agrees,” Shinsou said, laughing louder.
“Traitor,” Bakugou muttered toward Eri, though there was a distinct fondness in his tone.
Shinsou sighed dramatically, though his lips twitched upward despite himself. “I live in a house of chaos.”
“You love it,” Bakugou said with a cocky grin, slinging an arm around Shinsou’s shoulders.
“...Yeah, I do,” Shinsou admitted after a moment, leaning into the touch as a small smile finally broke through.
Aizawa, who had been quietly observing the entire exchange with a look of growing amusement, finally chimed in, his tone dry and perfectly timed. “Congratulations. Between the four of you, you’ve managed to recreate a sitcom with no functional adults.”
The room went quiet for half a beat before Eri burst out laughing. “He’s so right,” she wheezed, clutching Sakura closer as if shielding her from the chaos.
“Speak for yourself, old man,” Bakugou shot back, though his voice carried no venom.
“Sho’s not wrong,” Yamada teased, grinning at Aizawa. “And you’re basically the grumpy neighbor who shows up to insult everyone and steal their snacks.”
“I’d like to see you try and stop me,” Aizawa said flatly, though the faint upward twitch of his lips betrayed his otherwise stoic demeanor.
Yamada gasped dramatically, clutching at his chest. “Sho! Was that a joke? Are you feeling okay? Someone get this man a cup of coffee before he collapses from uncharacteristic humor!”
Aizawa sighed heavily, but the small smile lingered as he turned his attention back to Sakura. She let out a tiny giggle, her little hand waving aimlessly in Eri’s grasp.
“You’ve all lost your minds,” Aizawa muttered, shaking his head.
Shinsou chuckled quietly at the scene, leaning subtly into Bakugou’s side. “You know they’re never gonna let this go, right?” he said, his voice low enough to keep it between them.
“I’d be worried if they did,” Bakugou replied, his voice quieter now. He glanced at Shinsou, his expression softening. “You’re good at this, by the way. The dad thing.”
Shinsou’s breath hitched slightly, his gaze dropping to where Bakugou’s hand rested on his arm. “So are you,” he murmured. “Even if you call her ‘Gremlin’ half the time.”
“It’s affectionate,” Bakugou said with a shrug.
Eri, clearly eavesdropping, grinned at them from where she was still holding Sakura. “Aww, you guys are so cute. Like a married couple.”
Bakugou turned an impressive shade of red, glaring at her. “Who asked you, brat?” he barked, though his voice cracked just slightly at the end, betraying his embarrassment.
Shinsou, ever the opportunist, smirked and piped up, “Uh, Eri, we are married. Or have you forgotten our wedding already?” He sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “Tsk tsk, for shame.”
Eri gasped, her eyes wide with mock offense. “I didn’t forget! I still have the photos saved on my phone! Don’t try to twist this around just because you two are disgustingly adorable.” She turned back to Sakura with a conspiratorial grin. “Your dads are ridiculous, you know that?”
“I’ll show you ridiculous,” Bakugou muttered, narrowing his eyes at her, though the corners of his mouth betrayed him with the faintest twitch upward.
“Oh, relax, dear husband ,” Shinsou teased, nudging Bakugou lightly with his elbow.
“Stop calling me that in front of people,” Bakugou grumbled, his flush deepening.
“Why? It’s true,” Shinsou replied, his smirk widening.
Eri leaned closer to Sakura and stage-whispered, “See what I mean? They’re both hopeless.”
“Hopelessly in love, you mean,” Yamada interjected from the doorway, hands on his hips and a teasing grin plastered on his face.
“I swear to—” Bakugou started, only to be cut off by Shinsou tugging him back gently.
“Hush now, My Sweet Apple Pie,” Shinsou exclaimed. He was clearly enjoying himself.
“You’re all the worst,” Bakugou muttered, stuffing his hands into his pockets. But he didn’t pull away from Shinsou, and the redness in his face slowly faded into something softer, something quieter.
“She’s not wrong,” Yamada chimed in, throwing an arm around Aizawa. “Sho, what do you think? Newlywed vibes, right?”
“I think you’re all ridiculous,” Aizawa replied, though his tone was far too fond to take seriously.
As the teasing continued, Sakura let out a soft whine, her tiny face scrunching up in displeasure. Eri immediately began rocking her gently, humming under her breath. “Don’t worry, Sakura,” she said sweetly, her voice soft and soothing. “I’ll protect you from these idiots.”
Aizawa raised an eyebrow at the comment but said nothing, his gaze fixed on the baby with a flicker of concern.
Yamada, catching the look, leaned casually against the arm of the couch with a grin. “Come on, Sho,” he said, his tone light but encouraging. “She’s not gonna break. She’s tougher than she looks. Look at her parents.”
Aizawa shot him a flat look. “Babies are delicate,” he said firmly, crossing his arms. “I’m not taking chances.”
“You’re being ridiculous,” Bakugou muttered from where he stood in the corner, leaning casually against the wall. “It’s not like she’s gonna bite you. Yet.”
“She might,” Eri chimed in cheerfully, bouncing Sakura on her lap. The baby giggled, her tiny hands clutching at Eri’s fingers. “But it’s only ‘cause she loves you, Grandpa.”
“Grandpa,” Aizawa repeated dryly, though the slight twitch of his lips betrayed his fondness. He turned his gaze to Shinsou, who was sitting beside Eri on the couch. “Do I have to?”
Shinsou smirked. “You don’t have to do anything, but she’s gonna be sad if you don’t at least say hi properly.”
“Fine,” Aizawa muttered, his shoulders sagging slightly as he let out a resigned sigh. He approached the couch, crouching slightly to meet Sakura’s gaze. Her big eyes lit up as she looked at him, her chubby arms reaching out with a delighted gurgle.
“Look at that,” Yamada said with a laugh. “She’s picking you, Sho. No getting out of this one.”
“Great,” Aizawa muttered under his breath, though his expression softened. Hesitating, he extended his hands toward Eri, who carefully passed Sakura over to him.
“Support her head,” Shinsou reminded gently, his tone low and steady.
“I know,” Aizawa replied, his voice unusually quiet as he cradled the baby close. His grip was careful—almost too careful—as if she were made of glass. “I’ve done this before. Just… not in a while.”
Sakura let out a tiny coo, her small hand grabbing at the edge of Aizawa’s scarf. She gave it a weak tug, and Aizawa froze.
“See? She loves you already,” Eri said, grinning. “You’re her favorite now.”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” Bakugou muttered, smirking.
Aizawa barely heard them, his focus entirely on Sakura. “You’re small,” he murmured, his voice softer than anyone had ever heard. His thumb brushed gently over her tiny hand, and she responded with another delighted gurgle.
“You’re doing fine, Sho,” Yamada said, his tone uncharacteristically gentle.
Aizawa’s eyes flicked to him, his brow furrowing slightly. “I feel like I’m going to drop her.”
“You’re not gonna drop her,” Shinsou reassured him. “But if it makes you feel better, sit down.”
Aizawa hesitated, then lowered himself onto the couch, keeping Sakura nestled securely in his arms. She yawned, her little hand still clutching his scarf.
“Look at you,” Yamada said with a grin. “You’re a natural.”
“Don’t start,” Aizawa muttered, though there was no edge to his words. He glanced at Sakura again, his expression softening as she blinked up at him, her big eyes half-lidded with sleep. “She’s… quiet.”
“Not always,” Bakugou quipped, earning a laugh from Shinsou.
“Don’t scare him, Kats,” Shinsou said, shaking his head.
“She’s fine,” Aizawa murmured, almost to himself, as Sakura’s eyes drifted shut. His voice lowered even further. “You’re fine.”
The room fell quiet for a moment, the teasing giving way to a shared warmth.
“Okay,” Yamada said, breaking the silence with a sniffle. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be over here crying because this is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Don’t make this weird,” Aizawa muttered, though his gaze never left the now-sleeping baby.
“Too late,” Eri said with a grin. “You’re officially Grandpa now. No take-backs.”
Aizawa sighed, shaking his head. But as Sakura let out a soft snore, the smallest of smiles curved his lips.
Shinsou let out a quiet laugh, his hand brushing against Bakugou’s. The two shared a glance, unspoken warmth passing between them.
“She’s got a good family,” Shinsou said softly.
“Yeah,” Bakugou agreed, his voice steady. “She really does.”