My first time writing...I think it's called shigayumi? It's a sweet little rarepair, so I decided to give them a sweeter kid! Happy reading! (P.S. Takehiko uses the 雄彦 spelling for "hero prince".)
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No matter how many times it was spoken, their life didn't feel real. Shigaraki'd been hurt, Fuyumi'd been hurt, and they'd just so happen to meet. Now they had a kid.
The little kid, Takehiko, sleeping soundly, had these little wisps of hair like clouds. Kind of like him, but kind of like her and her burnt-frost hair. Baby's features changed after the first few days of birth, but he really hoped he kept his mother's hair. Better than his bleached tangle that long needed a good cut.
(but she liked playing with it so maybe the kid would want to)
She left, then, smiling so big for someone so tired. That's been one of her goals, to get back to teaching as soon as she possibly could, and who was he to take that from her? (a memory gripped him of his mother telling hana and him how she'd always wanted to go back to her gardening job but dad forbid it) The kid and him would have...fun.
He just couldn't touch 'em. It hurt, that punctured organ in his chest oozing at the thought that he'd have to deprive the little thing of one of life's elements worth not-decaying. (that little gasp from the couple when they'd first held hands. him and his sister walking and laughing and holding hands like they were bigger than the universe. a spark from yumi when she clutched his whole hand so so tight after endeavour had)
It'd be okay. Takehiko would be okay. He'd grow up big and strong without ever feeling his dad cut into him. It'd been what both Yumi and him had wanted, prayed for when she first gave the news and he had to make terms with everything he'd once known.
For now Shigaraki watched, thinking it too cruel to smile at someone who couldn't even see, who couldn't even know what he was smiling about. Takehiko looked so pure, so perfect it still shocked him how someone like him had made something as wonderful as this. Well, it'd been Yumi too. Maybe her good genes simply balanced out his bad.
Takehiko could just keep sleeping, like the blissful kid free of any world's pain. Dreaming whatever his little heart desired. It'd be much better than waking up seeing what world lay in store for him. How the people would judge before he was even old enough to feel their rejection.
But could Shigaraki seriously keep watching? Sitting idly with no league, no plan, as his son grew up in the cesspool called society? With all those heroes flying around making things worse, could he really risk his son's future on some promise that as long as he paused, the world would as well?
No other choice (remember what the heroes had done to your people what they'd almost done to her), he placed his hand near his son's side. That way he'd somehow communicate how sorry he was his son had been born to him unknowing of the curse that had taken his father's ability to dream.