My Father's Son - Chapter 2

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When Katsuki woke up in the morning, it was with Hiroki standing beside the bed. He wore his fluffiest pyjamas, a size too big since Katsuki had bought them assuming he'd grow – he'd planned on putting them aside until he grew, but Hiroki had been determined he needed them right away.

"They're so soft, Daddy!" he'd marvelled, rubbing his cheek on them. "I need to wear them tonight!"

Katsuki was a sucker, he couldn't say no.

"Daddy?" Hiroki asked quietly, when Katsuki's eyes fluttered open. "Um, I know it's early, but- but I woke up, and- and..."

"Just this once," Katsuki grumbled, shuffling over a little and pulling the blankets back. "Since you slept most of the night."

Hiroki had been trying to sneak into Katsuki's bed since day one, but Katsuki had been pretty good at keeping him to his own room. The sooner he learned to be independent, the better. Katsuki would always be there, sure, but the more Hiroki could do without him, the easier it would be on the rare occasion that he couldn't.

"I was cold," Hiroki mumbled.

"Were you really or are you making excuses?"

Hiroki fell silent, and Katsuki snorted at him.

"I already let you in, why are you lying to me?"

"I was cold," Hiroki confirmed, pouting. "I had another blanket I could have put on but I wanted Daddy, too."

"Okay. You shouldn't be lying and making excuses. If you get your way for being dishonest, won't you feel bad?"

"Yeah."

"So be a good boy."

He started to run his fingers through Hiroki's curls, like he normally did, but that day something about it made his breath catch. Instead he shifted his hand down, stroking Hiroki's spine, and Hiroki sighed contentedly as he snuggled in for a snooze.

They remained for about another hour before Hiroki yawned and stretched, rubbing at his sleepy eyes, and Katsuki poked him in the forehead.

"Science museum?"

"Yes please!"

They climbed out of bed together, and Katsuki gave him a little nudge toward the door.

"Teeth, face, hair, clothes."

"I know, Daddy!"

He ran off to get ready, and Katsuki dug some clothes out of the closet to get dressed himself. Despite being his day off, he knew he'd likely be going straight to the hospital after Hiroki got caught up in the exhibits, so his fingertips ran back and forth over the hangers in contemplation.

Finally he settled on taking a change of clothes along with him – he could change at his parents' house when he dropped the kid off. He neatly folded his best suit and a brand-new white shirt, even adding a dark gray tie to the mix. If he was going to get what he wanted, he had to look his best – had to make it clear that he was important, powerful, and more importantly, he had money.

From what he'd seen near the park, the other man decidedly did not.

That done, he pulled on a comfy pair of sweatpants and a warm hoodie, bagging up his suit for later. He could hear Hiroki in the bathroom down the hall, so he headed downstairs, leaving his bag by the door and using the second bathroom for himself.

By the time he made it back up, Hiroki was dressed and ready, waiting eagerly by the kitchen.

"You want to do piano while I make breakfast, so we don't have to do it tonight when we get home?"

"Can I do it with Grandma?"

"You have to promise you'll do it."

"I promise, Daddy! I'm not hungry, we can go now!"

"You're that keen, huh?" Katsuki snorted, poking him in the stomach. "You always want breakfast."

Sure enough, the little tummy growled, and Hiroki blushed.

"Let's grab something on the way," he offered. "Just this once. Hashbrowns?"

"Yes please!"

"Alright, go get in the car. You got everything you might need?"

"All here!" he agreed, patting his little bag. "Hat, sweater, book, notebook, pen, water!"

"IC Card?"

"IC Card!" he agreed, showing him the little plastic pocket that held it, Katsuki's smirking face emblazoning the back. "All ready, Daddy!"

"Good boy."

He skipped down the stairs to the garage, and Katsuki followed, patting his pockets to make sure he had his phone, keys, and wallet. Hiroki buckled himself into his booster seat with no hesitation, a beaming smile spread across his freckled face, and Katsuki couldn't help but smile at him in the rear-view mirror.

They picked up their hashbrowns from the Drive-Thru, Hiroki calling a polite thank you to the lady in the window, and soon they were driving across a long bridge, watching the sun shine over the water as they headed away from the crowded city.

Hiroki was enraptured the moment they got inside, marvelling as he darted back and forth between the first few exhibits. Since the room was almost empty, Katsuki allowed it - especially seeing as the kid was still perfectly polite, just like he'd always been taught, making sure to keep out of the way of others and wait his turn despite his over-excitement.

"Daddy, can you read it?" he asked, pointing at the signs beside some pictures of old robots. "I can't see."

Katsuki hoisted him up, holding him eye level with the signs, and pointed at the first one.

"You read, I'll help."

Slowly they made their way through, Katsuki filling in the blanks when Hiroki didn't know the words, and with Hiroki snuggled into his side they managed to decipher the passage together.

"So this picture is the first ever robot?" Hiroki marvelled, pointing at an ancient photo. "That's amazing!"

"Even older than Daddy," Katsuki nodded.

"Daddy isn't old!"

"Thanks, bud," Katsuki snorted. "I'm glad you think so."

"Everyone at kindergarten says so too!" he declared with an odd sense of pride. "Everyone says 'Wow! Look at Mr. Bakugou! He's so young and handsome!' and I say thank you for you!"

If Katsuki had still been eating his hashbrown, he was pretty sure he'd have choked on it right then. As it was, he spluttered weirdly, clapping his free hand over his mouth as his cheeks flushed.

"You tell them Daddy is hot, not handsome," he answered finally. "And he's the best Daddy ever."

"I already do!" he beamed. "I tell everyone I have the best Daddy! And sometimes people say their Daddies are the strongest or the toughest and I tell them they can't be because you are!"

"I bet not many of them have a hero for a Dad."

"Nuh-uh! Well, Asachan does, but her Daddy is a support hero." Hiroki screwed up his face, poking out his tongue. "Not a real hero."

"Support heroes are important," Katsuki told him sternly. "They're just not as important as I am."

"I know!"

Hiroki made no move to get down, so Katsuki carried him along to the next exhibit, showing him another long line of photos and historical notes. Every other kid in the building ran by them like they couldn't care less, but Hiroki was fascinated, determined to read or hear every word from the captions.

"Can we try the pipes?" Hiroki asked, pointing at a little play area with pipes and marbles.

"Yeah, I'm sure we can, let's go take a look."

"You're the best, Daddy!"

─────

A heavy weight settled over Katsuki as the receptionist showed him through to a little office, two men waiting for him inside. Both wore dark suits, though not nearly as expensive and designer as Katsuki's, and neither of them was the green-haired man he'd seen in the park. He'd assumed the guy must have already been there, when he wasn't in the waiting room with Katsuki, but no, he had clearly assumed wrong.

"Please have a seat, Mr. Bakugou," the younger man prompted, gesturing toward a little couch that thankfully seemed clean, if nothing else. "I'm sure Mr. Midoriya will be with us momentarily."

"Mind if I check my emails while we wait?" he asked, waving his phone at them. "I'm sure none of us really want to do the awkward small-talk thing, right?"

"By all means, please be my guest. Would you like something to drink? Tea? Coffee?"

"Just water would be great."

"Of course Sir, just one moment."

Katsuki had hoped, on some level, that his memory was wrong. He thought he must have exaggerated how old and rundown the place was, in the time he'd been away, but sure enough it was just as shitty as the first time he'd been there. He supposed it made sense, it wasn't like Hiroki's mother – or not, as it turned out – had been wealthy. She'd been a random one night stand in a bar where they'd both had far too much to drink, he hadn't even known her name. She knew his, though. Everyone knew his. So when she showed up on his doorstep and shoved the baby in his arms, gone again before he could even register what was going on, there was nothing Katsuki could do to stop her. Not that he really wanted to stop her.

He wouldn't deny that he'd wondered, occasionally, if Hiroki was really Katsuki's kid. They looked nothing alike, after all – except according to his father, who claimed Katsuki had smiled the same way when he was a baby. He was intelligent though, like Katsuki, and had grand dreams of heroism, like Katsuki, so he hadn't really had a reason to look into it too deeply.

"I'm so sorry I'm late!" the familiar man burst through the doorway, bowing low as his hands trembled. "I got stuck at work and missed the train and- Never mind, it doesn't excuse me! I'm so sorry for wasting your time!"

"It's quite alright, Mr. Midoriya. Come have a seat. My name is Yamashita, I'm the general manager at this hospital, and this is Nakamura, our lawyer. Would you like to introduce yourselves or shall I do the honours?"

"I'm Midoriya Izuku," the man flashed a beaming smile at Katsuki, his eyes squinting near-closed. "It's so nice to meet you, even if our circumstances are a little strange!"

"Bakugou Katsuki."

Izuku froze, his smile wavering, and as his eyes slowly opened wider Katsuki felt his heart thump. He looked into those same eyes every day, the same bright, beautiful green and the same shiny look of admiration. He loved those eyes, had loved them since the moment little Hiroki lay in his arms and reached for him, eyes glittering in the sun as he smiled and cooed.

"You're a hero," Izuku said in disbelief. "You won your U.A. Sports Festivals. All three of them. It's such an honour, oh my gosh. Oh, I'm sorry, this isn't the time or the place- You're just- Wow! I'm so glad to meet you! I'm sorry we had to pull you away from work for this, not that I was the one who- There I go again, I'm sorry, I'll shut up now!"

Katsuki just raised an eyebrow at him, watching Hiroki's perfect eyes rake down over his body and the designer suit he'd picked out so specifically.

"Shall we start?" he squeaked, and Katsuki had an overwhelming urge to remind him to speak clearly and properly. "I'd hate to take up more of your time!"

"Of course," Yamashita nodded, glancing down at his paperwork. "Well, on behalf of the hospital I'd like to apologise for the circumstances that have brought us here. Please rest assured that we are making a thorough investigation into what could have caused this slip up."

"So how the hell do you think this happened?" Bakugou asked, levelling them with a stern glare. "Do you have any idea what this is going to do to us?"

"Of course, Sir, and we are more than willing to offer compensation for the trials you have faced, but-"

"You think I want money?" he demanded. "This is not about money. This is about the fact that because of you I have spent nearly six years of my life raising a child that I'm now finding out is not mine. You're telling me that the two of us here, and whatever other family the nerd might have, I guess, have to decide whether we want to give up the children we've raised for this long, or let someone else raise the children who are ours by blood and birthright."

"I understand this is a difficult position for you both," Yamashita assured him, infuriatingly calm. "And I apologise for any offense that came from my comment, compensation is just one of the first questions people tend to ask when this sort of incident happens."

"I just want to know how the hell you expect us to solve this."

"W-Well," he stumbled for the first time, rubbing at the back of his neck. "In the past, when it used to happen decades ago, every family decided to make the switch."

"Haah?!"

"It usually takes some thinking and adjusting, but they all agree that they should be raising the child who shares their blood."

Katsuki gritted his teeth, hands balling into tight fists. Hiroki was his kid, he wasn't gonna just hand him over to some penniless asshole in a too-big suit that clearly came from a second hand store. Or third or fourth hand, more likely.

But the other kid was his, too. He'd known it the moment he saw him, with his spiky blond hair.

"Do you have any photos?" Izuku asked softly, sneaking a peek at Katsuki but not yet raising his head. "I'd like to see him."

Katsuki nodded, plucking his phone out of his pocket again and tapping away the hastily abandoned emails. He dug through his gallery, pulling up the one they'd taken for his school applications: Hiroki with his hair neatly combed, dressed in an ironed white shirt and the tiniest of little grey blazers. He'd marvelled at how small the thing was, when his mother brought it home from work, but it had fit the kid perfectly.

"From school applications," he explained, as he turned the screen to show to Izuku. "Um, he got accepted to a few different schools. We applied to all the top private schools in the prefecture, and all the local ones accepted."

"Wow!" Izuku gushed. "He must be so smart!"

"He's a good kid," Katsuki nodded awkwardly. "He has a little trouble with math, but he's getting there. It's just slower."

"He's only five," Izuku pointed out, smiling wryly. "I'm sure he'll be fine once he gets to school."

"Yeah, he's a hard worker, he'll get it done."

"Would you like to see a picture of Yuuto?"

"Yuuto," Katsuki mumbled, testing it out. "So that's his name, huh?"

"Yeah! Um, from courage, you know?" he explained, drawing it in the air awkwardly. "A brave person. He really is, always wants to try everything, but he's determined to do it on his own, without any help. Not like I was when- Well, yeah, I guess that makes sense, doesn't it? Sorry, that was stupid."

He scrolled on his own phone, and Katsuki saw hundreds of pictures of the pair of them fly by, Izuku mumbling to himself as he tried to find the one he wanted. Katsuki understood, when the screen turned his way – he'd carefully picked out a picture of just the little kid, just Yuuto, rather than the two of them together. Katsuki wasn't sure what to say, so instead he just nodded, staring at the scarlet eyes and the tiny hands reaching toward the camera.

"Hiroki," Katsuki said softly, realising the name hadn't yet left his lips. "Um, my s- Shit, uh... His name, I mean."

"What a nice name," Izuku smiled understandingly, both of them still adjusting to the right terminology. "How do you spell it?"

"Hiro like 'official', and ki like 'self'. My mother and I both use the same 'ki' in ours, too, so I thought..."

"That's so cute," Izuku fawned. "My dad was Hisashi, so the 'ku' in my name came from him, but we never really had a relationship so I didn't end up passing- Oh. I'm sorry, that's kind of insensitive to say right now."

The words hit Katsuki like a ton of bricks, his stomach aching like he'd just taken the worst punch in the world.

"It's okay," he assured the guy, shaking his head. "We uh, we need to talk about that stuff."

"Maybe we could meet up sometime and chat about it? We could bring the boys and meet them both?"

"Sure," he found himself agreeing without really thinking, setting up a new contact on his phone and handing it over for him to fill in. "I, uh, my work hours aren't great, so-"

"Oh, no, of course! I understand! Mine are pretty flexible though, so just let me know a day that would suit you!"

"Sure, we'll talk about it later."

"Sounds great!" he smiled that same bright smile as he handed the phone back, and Katsuki was oddly disappointed to see the shining emeralds practically disappear to accommodate it. "We'll talk soon, Mr. Bakugou!"

With last nods and bows exchanged, they walked out to the parking lot, and Katsuki was unsurprised to see Izuku turn toward the train station instead.

"I'll send you a message later," he said as they parted. "Let you know my hours for next week."

"I'm looking forward to it!"

They parted ways, and Katsuki caught a quick little glance back from the man, eyeing his shiny new car. He'd only bought the thing six months ago, when his parents' one had died and his father refused to let him buy them a new one. He'd given them the old one instead, proudly showing off his brand new toy and telling them both how he no longer needed the "old junker". He felt better knowing they were driving something safe and reliable, anyway. Not that he'd ever tell them that.

Hiroki was asleep by the time he arrived, tucked up in Katsuki's old bedroom with his green curls spread across the pillow comfortably. Katsuki peeked in the door to check on him, but when he didn't even stir, he left him to sleep.

"So tell us," Masaru prompted, when they sat down in the living room with tea and coffee. "How did it go?"

"It was weird," he admitted, sighing long and low. "The guy is... I mean, he's nice. He's very... excitable, and babbles a lot, and... I mean, Hiroki is definitely his, you know?"

"He's your son," Mitsuki interjected stubbornly. "You raised him. That's more important than blood, right?"

"But the other kid – my kid – he's... he's this little blond ball of energy, super independent, and he looks just like me. How am I supposed to just go on like normal, pretending there isn't some kid out there with my hair, my eyes, my face, my quirk. What if... Hell, what if the kid becomes a villain?"

"If he's as much like you as you think he is, there's no way that'll happen." Masaru assured him.

"The guy is poor, Dad," Katsuki groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I swear to God his suit was older than I am, and he lives in this shitty little apartment way outside of the city, and he says his work hours are flexible which probably means he's unemployed, or part of some shitty pyramid scheme or something, I don't know."

"You really are a spoiled brat," Mitsuki sighed. "I thought I raised you better than to judge someone on their wealth."

"You didn't raise me for shit," he argued. "But Dad raised me that way, and it's different when the kid is my son. I either have to leave my blood in that shitty environment, or give Hiroki to them. How the hell am I supposed to choose either way?"

"You could try for both," Mitsuki pointed out, getting a glare from her husband. "Maybe his home life isn't suitable for a child, you know?"

"Trust me, I've considered it," he grumbled, ignoring the appalled look Masaru gave him in turn. "Lawyer says it won't happen."

"Katsuki!" Masaru reprimanded him in a hurry. "You're so torn about giving one of them up, and you want to make this man give up both?"

"Shut up, old man, I know it's shitty!" Katsuki growled. "What the fuck else am I meant to do?!"

"I guess you'll have to talk that out with him, won't you?" Mitsuki sighed, folding her arms. "Pay him off?"

"I'm not buying my kid from him, hag! That's gross even for you!"

"I'm spitballing here, brat! I don't see you coming up with anything!"

"I don't know," he sighed, his anger dissipating immediately as he slumped in his seat. "I haven't even been sleeping right since I found out, I'm a mess."

"Stay here the night," Masaru insisted. "You were going to drop Hiroki off anyway. You can have a little sleep in and we'll take care of Hiroki."

"Thanks, old man," he sighed. "That sounds good."

"Do you want me to make up the spare bed?"

"Nah, I'll indulge the kid just this once."

"Okay, sweet dreams Katsuki! This will all work out somehow, I promise."

"Thanks for having my back."

"Any time, son!"

He shot his mother a nod as he stood, a little surprised when she spoke up too.

"Get some rest, brat," she said, with zero vitriol in the word. "You'll think better after a good night's sleep."

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