Chapter Text
The distinct sound of his phone vibrating against the wood of the nightstand jarred Katsuki from his post-match slumber. Blindly, he reached for the disturbance, finding it after a moment with a heavy hand before silencing the device and shoving it under the fluff of his pillow.
His phone was supposed to have been off because there was absolutely nothing he wanted more than to sleep away the aching of his legs and shoulders.
Katsuki’s opponent wasn’t the tomato-can Endeavour claimed, and he’d taken a few more hits to the ribs and face than he would’ve liked. He managed to pull out a win in round three-- he always did. And the fifty grand was worth it.
With a grunt, he stumbled out of bed and into his bathroom, heavy from the painkiller taken right before passing out. Katsuki flicked on the light to his bathroom, squinting against the abrasion to his senses and leaned forward to check his reflection.
The right side of his face was beat to hell-- deep swelling set in a crescent shape tapering up towards his hairline. His mouth wasn't in any better shape-- bruised and slightly discolored.
Gingerly, Katsuki poked at the split on his bottom lip, testing the tenderness of the flesh before retreating. Damn, he really looked worse than he thought he would-- but it wasn’t anything a good night's rest and a few days off couldn’t fix. He was used to this by now.
He ran a tired hand through sleep ruffled blond before exiting the bathroom, plopping back down on the edge of his bed and retrieving his phone.
4:57 am
Katsuki scrolled over to the missed call list and realized the number wasn’t one stored in his phone. Confused and still a little groggy, he hesitated. Neither his coach nor his manager mentioned anything about getting a new number at his match the night before. The only other people Katsuki spoke to on a regular basis were Izuku and Ochako, and they wouldn't be calling at such a weird time, anyway.
Before he could dwell any longer, the phone lit up and began to ring again. Katsuki’s thumb hovered over the screen as his ringtone shattered the stillness of his room, a strange sensation bubbling up in his gut.
With a deep breath, he swallowed his annoyance and answered the call. The sooner he talked to whoever this was, the sooner he could go back to sleep. "Hello?"
“Is this Katsuki Bakugou?” a polite female voice answered back.
“Yeah? Who is this?” his eyes narrowed, darting to check the clock once more.
“I’m calling from Yuuei Methodist Hospital--”
“Are you stupid or something?” Katsuki growled from his spot against the door frame.
Izuku was braced against the sink of the tiny bathroom, anchoring himself with both hands as water dripped from his cheeks. “Kacchan, don’t! Just-- stop! I don’t need this right now-!"
“Get up and dry your face.” He snapped, yanking the other man up roughly by this bicep. Katsuki had long since reached his threshold for wedding day bullshit.
“What if I forget my vows?!”
Katsuki seized the moment to unceremoniously shove Izuku back into the hotel room, snatching the groom's coat off the bed and holding it out for him to take.
"Are you really losing your shit right now?!"
"I-- no-- I'm just--"
“Look, you little bitch,” Katsuki started, stepping into Izuku’s space and looming over him “I put on a fuking suit for this. Have you ever seen me in a suit?! EVER?” he demanded, shoving his finger roughly into the other man's chest.
“No, no, no okay!” Izuku took a step back away from Katsuki and slapped his own cheeks a few times. “You’re right, okay!”
Katsuki snarled and shoved the navy blue jacket roughly into Izuku's chest
“She’s nervous, too, or whatever. So will you chill out? It's just a stupid ceremony."
Izuku hesitated for another second.
"I'm going to kill you--"
“Really? She’s nervous?” Izuku asked sheepishly, a light blush creeping up from the collar of his dress shirt.
Katsuki blinked before responding "Yes? What do you think I was just doing in her room? I poured her a mimosa and told her I would drag you both down the aisle by the hair if I had to."
For some odd reason, that seemed to comfort the other man, a fondness replacing the anxious expression. "Thanks..." he finished, slipping his jacket on over his dress shirt.
“Yeah, you better be thanking me. Apparently, this stupid, overpriced, piece of shit wedding wouldn’t be happening without me to pull you both together.” Katsuki shoved his hands in his pockets and walked over to the window.
A comfortable silence fell between the two men and Izuku turned to face the mirror, adjusting his tie.
Katsuki leaned against the window frame, sliding the curtain aside to admire the view. The late afternoon sun was peacefully dipping closer to the shoreline of the lake next to a simple altar-- perfectly romantic. As much as Katsuki hated weddings, he had to admit that this was a nice venue.
“Uhm...” Izuku started, his back still to his best man. Katsuki raised an eyebrow at him “What?”
“How does she look?”
Izuku asked after another moment, his reflection in the mirror looking up to make eye contact. Katsuki allowed a grin to creep across his face before turning to watch the guests down below trickle to their seats
"Beautiful."
Katsuki braced himself with both hands against the door of the morgue, the fluorescent light above him beamed down white-hot on his back, cutting into the center of his skull. He concentrated on the center of the dirty tile at his feet, hyper-aware of the blood pumping through every vein in his body.
“Yeah. That’s them.” He’d answered robotically, hands in his pockets to hide the shaking.
Cold, lifeless, mangled, and covered by a stark white sheet-- but unmistakably them.
Slowly he felt himself sinking down onto his haunches, his knees couldn’t seem to hold his body weight.
How was this reality?
Katsuki’s head fell forward, a hollow knock resounding as his forehead collided with the solid wood door. Everything seemed so loud and way too quiet at the same time. The air around him was molasses on his skin, his senses were overwhelmed, his tires were spinning.
Katuski could feel the rising and falling of his chest as his body attempted to take in oxygen-- his breaths were shallow, desperate, and surreal.
He needed to leave, he needed to get away from the hospital.
How was he still allowed to breathe when-- his family--
Katuski inhaled and bit down on his lip.
That was his family on the sterile surface of the exam table.
His breath hitched again as he pushed himself up on shaky legs, his brain was in overdrive but his body was stuck in place. He needed to start calling their friends, he needed to figure out where Yuki was, he needed to do something, but--
A wave of nausea washed over him and into the back of his throat as the horrific realization punched him square in the face.
Yuki. Their son, his godson. Where was he, and did he know?
In a daze he walked out of the hospital and climbed into the solitude of his car, throwing his phone into the passenger seat. He couldn't talk, he couldn't deliver the news. Not yet.
Instead, he gripped the steering wheel for dear life and screamed until his throat was raw.
The next few weeks passed in a blur.
Legal guardian, next of kin, power of attorney. These titles were an Albatross around his neck, heavy and uncomfortable.
He was being asked to make decisions about the Midoriya's estate he never fathomed.
Funeral arrangements, contacting creditors, talking to social workers.
His coach for some reason was on his ass, but his manager kept him at bay. Katsuki’s next match was somehow the first and last thing on his priority list, everything in between currently taking precedence.
The day of the funeral arrived and Katsuki sat on his closet floor, staring up at the black pinstripe suit he'd worn on the day of their wedding. It was the only real suit he owned, but he wasn't sure if it would even fit at this point. Katsuki was certainly bulkier than he was six years ago, so he opted for the maroon dress shirt and slacks he usually wore for press conferences-- hoping Izuku wouldn't mind too much. He hadn’t exactly had time to go to funeral shopping between cleaning out their house and selling their remaining car.
He didn't speak at the funeral. There was too much to say, too much to feel, too much to address. So he remained silent and stone-faced at the back of the hall, chewing on the inside of his mouth as Ochako’s distant cousin spoke about the pair of them.
Yuki wasn't there either, and he wondered if that was for better or worse. Katsuki hadn't seen his godson since the night of the accident. Everything was just so overwhelming-- there was simultaneously too many and not enough hours in the day.
On top of everything, now that an ill-fated "what-if" scenario had come to fruition, he was officially charged with taking their toddler into his care.
"There's no one we trust more."
Yeah, but did he trust himself to fulfill Izuku and Ochako's wishes?
That night, Katsuki lay sprawled out on his living room floor watching the ceiling fan rock gently on its hinges, allowing the spinning of the blades to hypnotize him.
For the first time in his life, Katsuki Bakugou doubted himself. How could he, a hot-headed workaholic, replace two warm and loving parents?
He lay there questioning his ability to be the father Izuku was and to put Yuki’s needs before his own.
This tiny human was robbed of the life he was supposed to live with two parents who would love him unconditionally and raise him with their whole heart and soul.
Ochako wouldn't be able to read to him at night snuggled under a mountain of blankets, and Izuku wouldn't be there to ask him about his dreams. They wouldn't be there on Yuki's first day of school, or to take care of him when he was sick.
That was all up to Katsuki now. And as the dawn crept in through the windows to wash over his being, he felt crushed by the weight of just how unprepared he truly was. He sucked in a deep breath and blinked away whatever emotion was threatening to spill out.
Crying wasn’t an option.
Not now, not when the social worker was bringing Yuki in just a few hours.
Katsuki knew needed to pull himself together quickly, but he didn't know where to begin.
His coach was being horribly insistent about coming in to keep up with his training. But he still needed to go to the grocery store, and he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with Yuki while he worked out for two hours every other day.
What did kids eat anyway?
Ochako always packed Yuki’s food when the toddler came to stay. Maybe he should’ve checked their pantry when cleaning out their house last week?
Getting off the floor seemed like such a monumental task. He’d laid there on the scratchy rug most of the night, knowing if he got into bed, he would never get out. At this point, Katsuki’s life was on autopilot, simply moving him from one unpleasant reality to the next.
As real sunlight began to drift through the blinds, he moved to start a pot of coffee and groom himself. He needed to at least resemble a man who was ready to take on the responsibility of a child.
8:03 am
The social worker was bringing Yuki at 8:30 am.
He sat in thick, tangible silence and sipped his coffee, allowing what felt like the final minutes of his old life to tick by until a knock at the door finally snapped him out of his daze.
Katsuki drug himself across the expanse of his living room towards the door, wiping both hands down the front of his face and inhaling. He wasn’t ready to face Yuki, not even in the slightest.
But he had to be.
He opened the door, suddenly level with a set of round, brown eyes peeking out from behind a stuffed lion.
“Katsu?”
His chest tightened as he cleared his throat.
This was already too much.
“Hey, kid.”
"Sorry we're late," the social worker started, "Yuki here was a hand full this morning."
She smiled tightly, and Katsuki resisted the surge of anger bubbling at the base of his throat. What did this bitch expect?
"Just bring him inside." Katsuki snapped, carding a hand aggressively through his hair.
"Katsu, Katsu!" Yuki practically chased after him as they entered the house, arms outstretched to be picked up. Katsuki’s heart gave another uncomfortable squeeze as he realized that he was probably the only familiar face Yuki had seen since the night of his parents’ accident.
Get it together.
Katsuki squatted down to Yuki's level, reaching to run his fingers through the mop of messy auburn hair, "Are you cryin'?" The question manifested on his tongue softer than intended. Yuki sniffed, shifting the stuffed lion in his arms to reveal tear swollen cheeks.
"I'm scared." He walked closer, his free hand outstretched to latch on to the front of Katsuki’s v-neck.
"I know, me too." He answered honestly, wrapping his arms around Yuki's smaller frame to draw him close to his chest. “I’m really scared, too.”
Yuki looked too much like his dad for Katsuki’s grief to handle.
He stood, balancing the toddler on his hip while absently listening to the social worker talk about custody hearings, visitations, and court dates.
"Any questions?" She asked with a plastic smile.
How do I do this?
“No,” He just wanted this woman off his front porch.
"Okay, so I'll see you in a few weeks for your first adoption hearing?"
Katsuki nodded, closed the door and suddenly Yuki felt so heavy in his arms.
8:53 am
Usually, when the door clicked shut it was Ochako dropping her son off for a short while, and Katsuki could start the countdown for how long he simply had to entertain his godson before her return.
But now Yuki wasn’t leaving, and Ochako wasn’t coming back.
Already exhausted, Katsuki wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep off the fresh wave of grief. But Yuki was now his priority, so he asked himself what would Izuku do?
Well, Izuku would probably put on a movie or give the kid a snack as a distraction. He still needed to call Aizawa to let him know he’d be skipping conditioning that week.
He knew if he called Endeavour it would be a fight, and Aizawa in general was more understanding of the situation.
“Have you eaten?” Katsuki asked, attempting to lower Yuki on the couch. But instead of answering, the little boy shrieked and clung desperately to his neck, digging his heels sharply in Katsuki's ribs.
"No! Katsu-- No! Don't!"
“Okay-- Geez-- Okay, I got you. I'm not letting go." Katsuki squeezed his eyes shut as Yuki lay his mess of curls against the crook of his shoulder and sobbed.
He circled his living room a few times, gently rubbing the expanse of Yuki’s back and toddler held on tight, fresh realization overwhelming the two of them.
This child was an anchor for him, too, so Katsuki obeyed his instincts and simply held his godson until the soft cries graduated into even breathes.
Eventually, Katsuki walked into the spare bedroom newly transformed into Yuki’s room. He’d done his best to bring over as much as he could from the old space, but he wasn’t sure it would really feel like home to the little boy without his mom and dad. But maybe it was a start.
"What do you want to do?” He asked with a hint of awkwardness. At this point, Yuki was more relaxed and allowed Katsuki to set him down on his bed. Yuki buried his face into the fluff of his stuffed lion and shrugged
"Okay, I have to go make a few calls. You want me to put on a movie?" Yuki kicked his feet, burying his face into the fluff of the stuffed lion.
"If you don't tell me what you want, I'm going to put on Dumbo, and we both know that’s the worst Disney movie ever.” He paused for a moment, frowning when the five-year-old didn't protest. "Right. When you feel like talking, come find me and we'll watch a movie together." Katsuki was doing his best to keep their normal dynamic up, but Yuki just looked so deflated. "I'm going to the other room, okay?"
Katsuki walked out, leaving the door open as he sat on the couch and talked to Aizawa.
An hour later, Yuki finally wandering out of his room, still looking a little sheepish, but definitely more lively than before.
"Do we have any snacks?"
Right. Snacks. They still needed to go grocery shopping.
Katsuki sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, I have some veggie chips--"
"GROSS!" Yuki frowned and stomped his foot against the carpet.
"Hey, who are you yelling at--"
"YOU!"
Katsuki growled and scrubbed his face to compose himself, "We are not starting this crap on day one."
"I want juice!" Well, at least Yuki was talking.
"What the hell else do you want because it looks like we're going to the store."
"Dad said that's a bad word."
"Yeah well, your dad said a lot of things. Buzz off." Katsuki retorted, laying back against the couch and covering his face with a pillow.
Said.
He wasn’t used to referring to his best friend in the past tense just yet.
After struggling with Yuki’s car seat for another hour, the pair of them were finally making their way to the store with a mile-long grocery list in hand.
"Will you eat this?"
"No."
Katsuki growled and slammed the box of Triscuits back onto the shelf with more force than necessary. When they composed this list at home, his godson had been much more cooperative. He was no stranger to hanging out with Yuki and taking him places. However, he wasn’t used to partnering with Yuki and catering to his specific daily wants.
"What about this?"
"No.”
His frustration only grew as he wheeled down the aisle and picked up one brand of cracker after another, attempting to appease young taste buds, only to be refused again.
"I'm buying it and you're eating it, or you'll starve." he snapped, throwing the box of rice crackers down onto the pile of groceries already in the cart. He was done giving a five-year-old choices.
Yuki gasped as he did so and Katsuki rubbed his forehead vigorously in an attempt to reign himself in.
“Hey--”
“No, you yelled, Katsu!” Yuki sniffed, and an immense wave of regret racked through the bulk of Katsuki’s body. It was his job now to tend to his godson's needs-- there was no use getting frustrated over crackers.
“Okay-- I’m sorry-- here.” He quickly snatched up a bag of gummy bears that were resting out of place on the rack next to them, shoving it into the little boy’s hands.
"That’s your candy for the week, make it last." He instructed, pushing the cart along. Katsuki took a few deep breaths, his annoyance fizzling out as Yuki munched quietly and kicked his feet. He shopped for his own dietary and training needs, checking off one item at a time.
Eventually, he stopped at the cereal aisle, picking up two different boxes to compare the ingredients. One tasted like shit but had lots of protein, and one tasted great but lacked fiber.
“I WANT THIS ONE.”
Katsuki jumped, looking up to see a young girl with silky black hair and round crimson eyes stomping her feet while holding a rather large box of fruity cereal. The man in front of her stood about Katsuki’s height, sporting velcro sandals and a blue hoodie covered in bleach stains.
“I said no.”
The girl burst into tears, whining loudly as she clutched the box possessively to her chest.
"We're not doing this every time we come to the store!" The stranger snapped, rubbing his temples before adjusting the headband holding back a mess of untamed hair.
Katsuki realized he was staring and quickly trained his eyes back down to his godson perched in the shopping cart. “Which one you want?” He held up both cereal options, tossing Yuki’s pick into the over stuffed basket.
Katsuki cringed outwardly as the young girl let out a piercing screech and decided it was time to vacate the aisle so he didn’t die from secondhand embarrassment. He awkwardly began to roll past the pair, watching with mild curiosity as the man snatched up the cereal and fiddled with the crushed edges of the box in an attempt to reform it.
"Pick something with less sugar." He pleaded with the little girl, shoving the mangled product back on the shelf. Katsuki’s eyes met with equally exhausted ones for just a moment, and he stumbled-- unsure if he should offer sympathy or words of encouragement.
"Wanna trade?" The stranger laughed weakly, indicating towards Yuki while the girl continued to squawk and protest at his feet.
Katsuki grimaced and shook his head, rounding the corner to make way towards the dairy section, "Thanks for not being that kid." He praised, ruffling Yuki’s hair.