"You ready, Button?" Izuku asks as he knocks on Kacchan's door. Hisami nods feverishly. He's too excited for words, bouncing from foot to foot, his Frostfire backpack with all his favorite things rattling around inside. The door opens and Hisami bolts to his room with a squealed, "Hi, Papa! Where's Cheeto?"
Izuku stays in the hallways until Kacchan steps aside to let him in, a bit reluctantly. Izuku is just as reluctant to hang around. Now that they've changed their custody plans, he knows Kacchan isn't required to spend any time with him, or to be friendly. Cordial and distant seems to be the way he wants to play it, so that's what they'll do. Still, they can't not talk to each other.
"Uh, your publicist called me," he says, by way of a greeting.
"Shit, yeah, I forgot to warn you. She's kinda…"
"Strident?"
"I was going to say bitchy, but I drink my respect women juice." He gives a bit of a feral grin, which leads Izuku to think he isn't entirely serious. He gives a weak smile back. His publicist's onslaught of personal questions left him feeling a bit raw—and he was already feeling raw and weird about the day. Hisami's first overnight with Kacchan feels like the beginning of some very lonely nights. Izuku doesn't know what he's going to do with all this time.
"She put you through the ringer?" Kacchan asks, bringing him back to the moment at hand. He shrugs because he has no business unloading on Kacchan. He's got enough to worry about without stupid Deku whinging at him.
"Nah, you gave a perfect cover story," he says, and he means it. Kacchan weaved a convincing tale. Childhood friends turned lovers. Apparently, they dated a few years after high school, fell in love, thought they'd be together forever, so they decided to have a baby—and then life and work and success got in the way. Now, they amicably co-parent, and Kacchan wants a bigger role in his son's life, now that he's settled more into hero work. His publicist seemed unconvinced—he could just tell by the way she spat words like romance and love and baby with a nasty edge. In her defense, he couldn't really see Kacchan in love, either, but he did his best to corroborate the story on such short notice.
"You excited for this weekend?" Izuku asks, doing his best to shove all thoughts of the publicist and their fake romance aside.
"Assuming he doesn't freak out as soon as you leave, yeah. How's he been this morning?"
"Excited for a sleepover with Papa. I'm sure everything will go well, but call me if you need anything. I, uh," he pauses, gives a little laugh that sounds more bitter and self-deprecating than he'd like. "I'm free all weekend."
"Go do something fun, Deku. Don't worry about us." Kacchan says it lightly, almost like an attempt to be comforting, but it kind of leaves him reeling.
He can't remember the last time he did anything that wasn't with, or about, Hisami in some way. He thinks he went on a date a year ago, and it was so horrible he never thought about doing it again. Maybe he'll go somewhere—somewhere quiet that he'd never be able to take a three year old.
"I will. Good luck."
He kisses his son goodbye for the weekend, and receives a half-hearted I love you for his efforts. He's busy with his notebook already, Cheeto pawing at his scattered crayons, and can't be bothered. He's not so selfish that he actively wishes Hisami will throw a fit at bedtime without him. He truly hopes everything goes well.
—
Katsuki couldn't be more thrilled with the way things are going. This might be the most well-behaved Hisami has ever been. They settled into the same routine they once had at Deku's. Hisami does what he wants until it's time to help him cook dinner, and he helps as much as Katsuki will allow, babbling on about one silly thing or another.
He's obsessed with Cheeto, and Cheeto seems to be obsessed with him. He's never seen the stupid cat around the house so much. At first, he was worried Hisami might be allergic to him with his teary eyes and runny nose, and then he remembered that his son is just as much a crybaby as his father.
"He's making biscuits, Papa," he whispers, all but sobbing as Cheeto purrs and kneads his legs while they eat dinner. Katsuki laughs and shoos the damn cat away so Hisami will stop blubbering into his curry.
—
Later, after their dinner has settled and the dishes are done, Hisami's dramatics come to the forefront. He rolls around on the floor, moaning like the world is ending.
"What's wrong, Bub?"
"My poops are spicy, but I love curry so much," he whines, the beginnings of tears in his eyes, looking far more conflicted than any three year old has a right to be. He rolls over to crawl towards Katsuki on the couch, looking for comfort. Katsuki barks a laugh, pulls his son into his lap, and rubs his upset tummy.
"Don't I know it, Bubba," he says, sympathetic to his plight. "Allow me to introduce you to Pepto Bismol."
Hisami gets a second wind around seven, after his pink magic juice has taken effect. He demands that Katsuki color with him, handing him a fistful of crayons and a Frostfire coloring book. Katsuki reluctantly obeys, coloring Todoroki's stupid hair while Hisami draws in his notebook.
Hisami is so engrossed in his drawing, he doesn't notice Katsuki peek at his work. Hisami scribbles his name in purple crayon, the sloppy kanji at the top of a crudely drawn image of himself. He's holding hands with two tall stick figures that are clearly meant to be him and Deku. He smiles broadly, imagining putting in on the fridge to look at every morning and night.
"Do you know how to write your Papa's name?"
Hisami shakes his head, and holds the purple crayon out for him to help.
"Alright, I'm going to show you something really cool, Bub. Check this out." He takes the crayon and pulls the the notebook to sit between them. He writes half of Deku's name above his stick figure, the character he shares with Hisami's name. He does the same with the character in his name above his own stick figure. Hisami seems incredibly flummoxed, and slightly pissed that Katsuki had the nerve to fuck up his drawing.
"That's my name, Dummy-san," he grumbles, crossing his arms and pouting. He's noticed that whenever Hisami is upset with him he goes from Papa to Icky or Dummy in five seconds flat.
"Oi! I'm not done yet," Katsuki says. Impatience is clearly an inherited trait when it comes to Hisami. He should be studied as a testament to nature versus nurture. He finishes the rest of the kanji for both names. Hisami stares at it for a moment, and Katsuki wonders if he understands the point he's trying to get across.
"My name is your name is Papa's name?"
"Yeah, Bubba. Let's go with that." He smiles and ruffles his son's hair. "Ready for bathtime?"
"No bathtime, Papa," he says, coloring in Deku's hair.
"Yes, bathtime. No arguing. You smell like the damn cat."
"Language! Can Cheeto get in the bath?"
Katsuki laughs, feeling light and airy. He's never laughed so freely, smiled so much. He's blissfully happy, and it's all because of his wonderful, ridiculous son.