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“Hey! Careful!” Katsuki calls, hand in his pocket, as his son barrels down the sidewalk towards the doctor’s office.
There are some bright green bushes atop the raised walls around them, and the pro hero snorts as he thinks of his husband, busy in New York City with a hero teaching conference. He knows in his gut that, along with all the information he’ll be happy to share when he returns, Izuku will also get a new suitcase to fit a ton of gifts.
Well, he thinks, allowing the tiniest of tiny smiles to show, more for Haruki.
Midoriya Haruki, born on a chilly April morning 4 years earlier, was named with the hope that he'd embody the season. The second character in his name, “ki,” is from Katsuki and his mom’s own names (a character that means “self”). It’s a family tradition that Katsuki wanted to pass on, especially since Haruki looks just like a Bakugo. Izuku, for his part, had a whole month where he was obsessed with the history of names.
And his family wouldn’t have it any other way - they’re a pod of chaos, after all.
“Haru, go slow!” His dad calls again, hurrying forward when he sees his son’s arms start to windmill in circles.
He manages to catch Haruki’s shoulders right before he falls over.
“Papa!” Haruki cries, unfazed, “I found a kitty! Can we take him home?”
“We have a cat, kiddo,” Katsuki grunts. “Can you take care of 2 cats?”
“Yeah! I can take care of fifty!” Haruki insists, holding up 4 fingers, then 3. “No, 100 cats!”
And, oh, sue Katsuki for going soft. Another small, incredulous smile twitches onto his face at the sight.
“Hah? 100? Okay, good. You can take all 100 to the vet by yourself, right? Without help?”
Haruki bunches his t-shirt up in his hands and frowns angrily - except it’s cute instead of menacing, since he’s four, and he’s as squishy as a stuffed animal.
“I’ll do it! I can!”
Katsuki puts his hands up, palms facing out, and tries not to burst out laughing as he opens the door.
“I know. Let’s go inside.”
The pediatric office is a sterile place. Katsuki kind of hates it, with its pastel yellow walls that look like an extroverted sunshine palace and the paintings of giraffes and elephants in fields of flowers. But Dr. Motomiya has been taking care of Katsuki and Izuku’s baby since the beginning, so he gives the walls one more tired glance out of respect before tripping over a set of foam blocks.
It takes every ounce of Katsuki’s strength not to curse like a sailor.
He steers a distracted Haruki away from the blocks before he also faceplants into them, urging them both towards the desk and fishing for Haruki’s health handbook, an insurance card, and medical certificate as he greets the receptionist and gets busy with grown-up paperwork.
“Can I play?” Haruki pipes up when there’s a pause.
Katsuki ruffles his son’s hair and murmurs, “Go for it. Clean before you sit back down.”
Haruki beams and cries out, “Okay!”, hurrying over to the other little boy playing with pro hero figurines and picking up a Red Riot figure without missing a beat.
When Katsuki checks on Haruki, he’s amused to find him playing with Kirishima Eijiro’s action figure - and he can’t tell if it’d be worth telling his old friend about it.
Eh, he figures, there are way, way worse pro heroes to give an ego boost.
Kirishima’s a great guy, and he’s good to Haruki, an uncle figure who takes him out when Katsuki and Izuku can’t.
It’s also a good thing that Haruki inherited his friendliness from Izuku. They’re both warm, and the other boy, holding an All Might figure, is happily imagining a rescue mission with Red Riot on the round carpet. The boy’s mom catches Katsuki’s eye, politely greeting him. He’s about to respond when his phone buzzes in his pocket.
Speaking of…
“Kacchan,” Izuku’s warm voice murmurs. “Hi!”
Moments with Haruki already leave Katsuki softer than usual, and only moments with Izuku compare. He greets the other parent and receptionist quietly and steps right outside the door, turning to face it so he can watch his son, who is still busy playing on the floor.
“Izuku.”
There’s a loud honking noise in the background, followed by a wave of chatter and the sound of clanking construction. Izuku seems to duck inside somewhere, laughing in apology. Katsuki’s cheeks flush a little as he pictures the shy expression on his husband’s face.
“Sorry, Kacchan. It’s hard to take calls in New York.”
“No kidding, are they trying to mess with you?”
Izuku laughs again, and Katsuki’s hand grips his arm.
He feels his emotions bubble up like acid in his gut.
Ugh. Miss you.
“Maybe there’s a villain of noise pollution, but I can look it up. Technically, someone with a quirk like Jirou’s could make it happen, but on such a large scale, it’s probably just how the city operates. I’ve noticed some blocks are quieter than others, and those tend to be where a lot of the hero offices are located. Anyway, I’m coming back tonight, so no more weird phone calls!”
Katsuki just chuckles, low and bemused. “Did you change your flight?”
Izuku probably nods before he mutters sheepishly. “I did. The rest of the conference is optional, and I remembered… Haruki is already 4. It’s a big one. I don’t want to miss too much.”
Katsuki’s eyes cloud with something distant. His brows furrow, and he frowns, gazing at everything and nothing through the shimmering glass.
“Yeah. We’re at the doctor's right now. I think they’re going to talk about it.”
Neither of them has to say it out loud, and Katsuki curses the fact that he isn’t able to have this conversation in person. He just knows Izuku is shaking a little, like he always does when old, sad memories come back to the surface.
“I can tell you what he says tomorrow. Rest when you’re home.”
A scuffling of shoes, and a soft word or two in English. “No, no, thanks, but I want… I want to know. I want to be ready. But you know I love him, either way. He’s our baby.”
Katsuki’s eyes are burning. It’s a hard topic, one they’ve known they’d have to deal with eventually. Izuku not having a quirk from birth means that there’s a chance Haruki won’t either. And if anyone gives Haruki hell the way Katsuki used to with Izuku, he’ll wring their elbows in all the wrong directions for it.
“Inko’s our example,” Katsuki says simply. “He won’t deserve any fucking less.”
A brief, stunned silence fills the air with warmth even in the stillness.
“No, he won’t,” Izuku murmurs eventually, voice honey sweet and on the verge of tears. “I love you, Kacchan.”
Katsuki clears his throat, eyes serious. “Love ya too.”
“Mr. Midoriya and Haruki?”
Katsuki’s head shoots up as he glances at the nurse standing in the internal doorway. He fights the urge to let out a yawn, the act of sitting down for over an hour making his body feel like a squashed soda can.
“Kiddo,” he calls out. “Let’s go.”
Haruki only has to glance up for a moment before he says goodbye to the other kid in the waiting room, politely sets the Red Riot figurine in the waiting room toy box, and hurries over to Katsuki’s side. Katsuki exhales as the corner of his mouth turns up and takes the tiny, tiny hand of his son, letting Haruki lead them through the door with the nurse.
Katsuki sometimes still can’t believe he’s a married man with a child, taking him to doctors’ appointments and holding his hand. And even though Katsuki still has his days and his habits, and he still gets grumbly if anyone ever teases him about the past, he works through his ghosts and his anger issues, slowly and steadily.
After all, he’s got people to protect, which keeps him busy.
Back in the present moment, Haruki’s steady warmth is a sign his son is doing well. He’s following the nurse’s instructions and talking her ear off about random toddler nonsense at the same time. Katsuki wants to say something, but the nurse seems amused by it, and especially by the gruff Dynamight holding his baby.
“Papa, I want a snack,” Haruki pipes up softly, leaning the side of his head into Katsuki’s chest.
Katsuki snorts and ruffles his son’s hair a little more. “Uh-huh, what kind?”
“Choco pie,” Haruki replies with confidence. “Or Cubie, or chocolate sticks! Or gummies. Does the doctor have gummies?”
Katsuki just balks. “Who’s been giving you all that candy?”
When Haruki starts to speak, his father just shakes his head and sighs, voice barely a whisper. “Red Riot.”
He doesn’t have time to recall whether he told Kirishima about his son’s healthy diet, because the doctor walks in—an old man with a bent back, a whoosh of peppery hair, and a clipboard. He smiles gently at Haruki and bows towards Katsuki, who bows as much as he can with a child in tow. Haruki is moved to where the doctor can see him, kicking his legs on the examination bed as if he’s not scared at all.
But Katsuki, who knows the gravity of the moment, is still a little on edge.
“Good morning,” Dr. Motomiya says with a friendly tenor.
Thankfully, Dr. Motomiya is an experienced and kind doctor who offers a soothing smile when Haruki pulls away from the stethoscope, scandalized.
“Wait! I-I don’t want it,” little Haruki’s voice trembles. He clings to Katsuki’s t-shirt like a lifeline, and his father’s heart twists at the sight.
“You’ve seen it before,” Katsuki states, pulling his son gently off and towards Dr. Motomiya. “It’ll be cold, but not like… uh, Shouto’s ice.”
He cringes internally at his awkward delivery.
Izuku’s the one who’s better at comforting others.
But Haruki still perks up, finally smiling a little himself, and creating an opening for Dr. Motomiya to do his check-up.
“His ice is sooo cool and scary! I’ll be like Shouto and Red Riot!”
Katsuki rolls his eyes, but smiles anyway, meaning it when he says, “...Yeah. You will.”
It’s only later in the exam that Dr. Motomiya turns to Katsuki and finally says the words he has been waiting for.
“It’s about time for a quirk to manifest. Have you noticed him demonstrate any abilities?”
Katsuki mills over the last year or so in his mind.
“I… No.”
Dr. Motomiya’s face is unreadable, but he nods. “You know this, but with one parent not having a quirk from birth, the chances of him having a quirk may be reduced. Or it may just take more time than other children. Haruki, do you think you can try something for me?”
Haruki nods with an extreme amount of enthusiasm, and Katsuki is instantly reminded of a much younger Izuku.
Like father, like son.
“Can you try to copy your father here’s quirk?”
Katsuki raises an eyebrow. He watches as Haruki trots over to his side with Izuku-like eyes - sparkling, enthusiastic, and melting Katsuki’s old heart to nothing - and pokes his side.
“How do you make things go BOOM?”
It’s too hard to hold in the snort this time, but thankfully, nobody mentions it. Katsuki clears his throat and holds out his palm.
“There’s this stuff in my skin that makes explosions happen. But you might need to sweat a little.”
The nurses get a field day out of a mini Dynamight hurtling up and down the hallway with his dad right ahead of him, calling out the number of their current lap. It seems like Katsuki is getting a workout too, eye twitching as he reminds himself not to slack on his daily workouts. But he works Haruki into a light exhaustion anyway before drawing him back into the exam room and closing the door.
“Now, try to make a BOOM happen.”
It seems simple enough, though Haruki’s frustrated squinting appears to hint at a lack of progress.
He shakes his hands, growing increasingly impatient and upset.
“It’s not working, Papa.”
Katsuki shows how he stretches his palms out, Haruki watching him as he fires off a very small explosion with Dr. Motomiya’s permission. He sighs, just glad that nothing is burning.
Haruki imitates him, his cute face all scrunched up as he tries his best to summon a blast, and… well, zip.
Not even when Katsuki gets All Might on the phone to cheer his son on and get him excited to try again.
And as he hangs up the phone, Katsuki feels a familiar, parental tension, followed by a soft sniffle.
“Hey, Haru—”
“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
Katsuki balks. “Kiddo—”
“PAPA! I COULDN’T DO IT! I COULDN’T DO IT!” Haruki wails, flapping his arms and sobbing as hard as his small body can.
He keeps getting louder, too, crying, reaching an intensity that Katsuki has never seen before.
He has no idea what to do, either, until…
“Haru, wait, wait, you—!”
Katsuki and Dr. Motomiya stare in amazement. Haruki is setting items all over the room on fire. He’s crying so hard and shouting so much that it’s appearing in wild bursts, and the doctor has to move fast to get the papers he’s holding out of the way before they smolder.
Katsuki hurries over to find a way to calm his boy down.
“Papaaaaa!”
It’s all Katsuki can do to scoop his son up, pat his back soothingly, not say a word, and just hum. Haruki curls into him and descends from panic into a slow, deep nap, ousting the fires as he falls asleep in Katsuki’s arms.
“Speaking of Shouto…” Katsuki mutters, halfway between relief and utter confusion. “A fire quirk?”
A moment of silence passes between everyone before Dr. Motomiya says, “Is there a chance someone in either family has a fire-based quirk? Or that you could have passed on a version of your own?”
“No, I—” Katsuki pauses. “My family’s quirks are based on sweat. There’s none of that until me, and it’s still based on sweat.”
Dr. Motomiya taps his pen thoughtfully, gazing right at Katsuki. “It’s worth asking about your husband’s family tree one more time, though it may be a cousin of your ignition-based quirk. I recommend discussing this together to make sure he can use it safely.”
The night that Izuku arrives home, the whole family is so exhausted that everyone passes out right away. But luckily, the next day is a sunny Sunday, and everyone is home and able to catch up.
Haruki talks his parents’ ears off while Katsuki prepares breakfast, and Izuku smiles down at his son, one arm wrapped around his husband’s shoulder. Katsuki busies himself warming up toast for Haruki and rice and leftover fish for him and Izuku.
It’s a sweet, fuzzy Sunday morning, and they’re grateful for it.
But Katsuki taps his foot, still unsure of how to break the news without souring everything. He tries to lose himself in his son’s excited questions about America and All Might’s old haunts, and then a conversation about the gifts Haruki received from abroad. So far, Katsuki’s noticed he loves the Lego New York postcard, since he can’t stop running over to look at the box. Katsuki chuckles as he promises Haruki that he’ll help him build it, and Izuku juts his chest, proud that his little boy likes his presents.
Izuku chooses a moment when Haruki falls asleep in his arms to face his partner, whispering.
“Something happened at the doctor’s, right?”
Katsuki turns off the stove and sits across from Izuku, nodding slowly. “...He’s got a quirk, Izuku. It showed up while we were there.”
Something conflicted shows up on Izuku’s face then. Envy, joy, relief, and curiosity swirl and dance across his expression. Katsuki, who still feels responsible for some of that pain, watches in patient caution until Izuku lifts his gaze and meets his again.
“How are you feeling?” Katsuki asks.
Izuku’s eyes ache with gratitude, and he swallows lightly. “I’ll… I’ll be honest, I’m a little jealous. You remember… how much I cried when I realized I wasn’t born with a quirk. Tore you and me apart.”
Katsuki frowns, gazing down at the table’s surface. “I pushed us apart, Izuku. It wasn’t you.”
Izuku smiles a little, tapping Katsuki’s foot with his own. “And you also helped put us back together. Besides, we have a family now. Our son could even go to UA someday."
Katsuki feels that familiar burning sensation behind his eyes.
But he’s less prideful now, reaching for Izuku’s hand and feeling glad when he takes it.
“And,” Izuku continues, “You know me. Most of all, I need to know what the quirk is!”
Katsuki is relieved when a big, beaming smile paints Izuku’s face.
“Hah! Classic hero nerd.”
“Tell me! Is it like our parents?”
“Maybe,” Katsuki ponders. “It’s some sort of fire quirk, but it’s not from his skin like mine. The fire just… appears on things in the room.”
A million thoughts race across Izuku’s mind and face, and Katsuki smirks knowingly. This is Izuku’s Roman Empire, his favorite subject in the world, and it only takes minutes of mumbling to reach a conclusion.
“My family has fire quirks on my dad’s side,” Izuku explains, and Katsuki’s eyebrows go all the way up. “But as for why it’s not from his mouth or hands… well, some people’s quirks involve fields that spread. Think like Jirou, and how her quirk involves fields of sound. So maybe something in the item is catching fire when Haru activates his quirk. The spark isn’t inside his own body. That’s pretty rare.”
Katsuki just sits there in amazed silence for a while before he clears his throat, squeezing Izuku’s hand as he starts to murmur.
“The only question is, how does he control it?”
Izuku and Katsuki are seated in the living room, helping take a jab at the Lego set Izuku bought while in New York. Katsuki is focusing hard on building the Brooklyn Bridge and Empire State Building while he flips through the pages, and Izuku is gently guiding his son on putting together the little plants and waterways on the foundation.
But Izuku’s mind drifts here and there. He loves time with his family, but knowing that Haruki’s quirk manifested and that it could be dangerous for him and others… Izuku worries his lip, thinking back on the conversation he had with his husband while they folded laundry together.
Izuku giggles as he dodges the t-shirt Katsuki tosses at him. He marvels at how it lands right on top of the floor lamp, covering it like a new head of hair or a hat. When the couple’s eyes meet, they can’t help but laugh.
Just because they love each other, and it’s a peaceful day.
“You’re good at distracting me, Mister,” Izuku murmurs, grinning. “But we still need to figure out what to do for Haruki’s sake.”
“I figured,” Katsuki muses, rubbing a little at his top surgery scars before he slips a shirt on from the pile. “You did some research.”
Izuku nods and shows Katsuki an entire notebook’s worth of color-coded notes. “It boils down to us talking to him about ways to manage his emotions. We can’t force it out of him, so next time he gets upset, we can work on teaching him. I looked at 30 different parenting guides and even asked Dr. Motomiya. He gave us a one page file, and of course I was able to consolidate all the data, but you can tell me which way you want to try. We… want to try.”
Katsuki’s usual lopsided, almost-frown turns up a little. He gets up and sits next to Izuku, combing a gentle hand through his green curls. The gesture soothes Izuku as he feels tension seep out of his body, and he leans in, head resting safely on Katsuki’s shoulder.
“We’ll figure it out. Somehow.”
He was so confident then, but Izuku knows everything is easier said than done. He glances at Haruki’s cheerful humming while he places the little toy pieces down, heart melting and gushing at the sight of his soft, round cheeks and sincere disposition.
Haruki is sweet and good, and Izuku prays that they’ll be able to help him.
Or, more specifically, that Todoroki Shouto will be able to help them help him.
Shouto is the perfect choice for someone calm and familiar, who also happens to have a fire quirk. Besides, he owes them for helping him move into his new apartment.
With Shouto helping on weekends, and Izuku and Katsuki helping on weekday evenings, they hope to encourage Haruki… and most of all, keep him safe.
When the following Saturday comes, Katsuki greets Shouto, offering him the info sheets from Dr. Motomiya.
The duo is busy chatting when they suddenly hear a happy, gurgling laugh behind them.
Haruki is enjoying a cup of mango sorbet while Izuku fills their son in on the day’s activity.
Katsuki is very relieved to see his son in good spirits - he just… hopes it lasts.
“Hello,” Shouto greets.
Haruki hurries over and takes his hand. “Shouto!”
Shouto gazes down at the Midoriyas’ little boy. “You look just like a certain someone. Maybe you’ll catch on fast.”
Katsuki’s mini-me just tilts his head and beams. “Uncle, my papas said you’ll help.”
“Yeah,” Shouto affirms, kneeling to eye level. “I have fire powers too, so I’ll help you. Can you tell me what you felt when you saw the fire?”
Haruki squirms and looks at his shoes. There’s a long moment of silence before he glances at his parents with wide eyes, and Katsuki and Izuku nod encouragingly in his direction.
Finally, Haruki murmurs something under his breath.
“Scared. Sad.”
Shouto nods. “Mm, can you tell me why?”
Katsuki notices that Izuku squeezes his hand, somewhere between pride and tears, as he watches the interaction.
It’s all Katsuki can do to squeeze back.
“Umm,” Haruki muses. “I didn’t want my papas to be sad. So I got sad and scared. If I have powers, everyone’s happy.”
Shouto’s eyes shimmer with empathy. “I know the feeling. But we can work together once a week, so you can make people happy, powers or not.”
He kneels and makes a small flame appear between them. Its shadow dances across Haruki’s face.
“We don’t have to make fire from fear. What do you think?”
Haruki stares at him, starstruck, for so long that he might as well be a statue.
But he smiles once again after a while, wrapping his arms around his hero with a big hug.
“Okay! Thank you, Mister Uncle!”
“It helps that one of his favorite heroes has fire powers!”
“And that he’s our friend from high school.”
“Exactly!” Izuku says, beaming as he plops a scoop of rice onto a plate. “And from what Todoroki’s told me, this is good for him, too. Can you get some curry for Haru’s plate?”
Katsuki, ever the diligent husband, manages to ladle a completely clean and perfect portion for his son on top of the rice and set up the whole table for dinner. He then sets to work scooping up Haruki and spinning him around before urging him to clean his toys.
“Everything back in the box,” the blonde hero smirks, blowing raspberries into his son’s belly. “You know the drill!”
Haruki, who is usually a diligent son, is just screaming his head off with laughter, begging Katsuki to stop and shoving his little hands in his father’s face.
It takes them way too long to get back to the table, but they eventually slide into their seats together, smiles perfectly identical.
Real smiles.
After everything they’ve been through, and with all they have to look forward to, Izuku couldn’t ask for anything more.
He looks at the calendar, the parent guides taped on the refrigerator door, and all the photos of their family and friends, and feels his heart fill up with happiness…
and something small.
Something like hope.
“Okay! Let’s eat!”