A Heartfelt Pretense

"Not gonna," Izumi Kouta declared.

"We'd really appreciate it."

"I just said I'm not gonna ," Kouta said, waving one arm angrily in protest.

At the sight of the tiny first adorning it—and all too familiar with its abilities—Midoriya Izuku uneasily moved his hands towards his groinal region. Aizawa for his part raised an eyebrow at his student's odd behaviour then went back to the subject at hand. "Please, Kouta-kun, we thought it would be better if it was someone closer to her own age."

"Doesn't she have any friends who can help?"

"No, no one her age."

Oh. That was bad, so Kouta tentatively thought it over. Despite Auntie Mandalay trying, he hadn't done this in ages. He wasn't sure he was ready, but . . .

His eyes strayed over to Izuku. He, Auntie and everyone said that being a Hero wasn't just fighting Villains. Often it was being brave about other things as well. So, Kouta straightened himself, stuck out his chin and with a sharp nod said, "Okay, I'd do it. But since I'm new at being a Hero, I'm going to need some help."

At 11 AM on a Saturday morning, Kouta marched into Eraserhead's apartment for the playdate. "Okay, I'm here to teach you"— he pointed at Eri who had curiously poked her head out from behind Izuku—"to play Pretend!"

"It's okay," Izuku said. "He's loud but he would never hurt you."

Eri nodded. Of course she knew he wouldn't do that. Everyone had said so. Katsuki-nii had even promised that if Kouta tried, she should tell him and he'd 'blow the brat into pieces so small a fucking microscope couldn't find them'. So to stop Izuku from worrying, she explained this to him.

His reaction was a little odd with him groaning, "Oh, Kacchan." The statement had seemed perfectly straightforward except for the— "Izuku-nii, what does 'fucking' mean?"

Kouta, unbothered by Katsuki's threats and undeterred by Izuku's choking, stepped in. "We learned about it in school and I even read books. It means making babies. It's messy and boring." Kouta went on to explain the details while Eri listened.

Kouta was right. It did sound messy and boring.

Startled, she realized that Izuku was turning increasingly red, but before she started panicking, Kouta took her hand and pulled along to the living room's little play area. "Don't worry about him. Adults always get weird when you talk about fucking. Last time, my Auntie Ragdoll wouldn't stop laughing and that made Mandalay annoyed."

The play area met with Kouta's approval. There was an assortment of items like Lego, dolls and trucks. He made an especially big deal about the boxes that Izuku-nii had brought over which according to him were better than the rest put together.

"There's a lot of kinda ways to play Pretend," he explained. "There's Rocketship, House, Heroes, Animals. Also everything on TV . . . So what kind?"

Eri worried her lip then looked around her home, taking in the sights that each day felt safer. "House?" she answered.

"Okay," Kouta said and waved Izuku over. "We need your help."

Izuku had recovered somewhat, though his skin was still clashing horribly with his hair. "You want me to be the father and you my kids?"

Kouta seemed terribly offended at the notion. "This is Pretend. We're kids already. How can we pretend to be that?" he protested as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. " You can be the baby. I can be the daddy and you"—he indicated—"can be the mommy."

Quietly, Eri said, "Do I have to be the mommy?"

"You're a girl," Kouta pointed out. "You are a girl—right? It's s'okay if you're not. My Uncle Tiger used to look like one and he's really a boy." Eraserhead seemed nice but if he was forcing Eri to pretend to be a girl when she was really a he, he'd have to have Auntie beat him up.

"Yes, I'm a girl." Eri answered.

Kouta's brow furrowed. "Then why—?"

"Please, Kouta, don't make me a mommy," she pleaded. "I don't want to be like Mommy."

Kouta only shrugged and said, "Okay, we can both be daddies." Why not? He'd dressed up as a princess a few times.

For some reason, Izuku got really weird and picked him up and hugged him, puzzling both children. "Stop that!" Kouta protested. "Babies don't pick up dads."

After Izuku finally remembered his role, they suited up. The children plundered the apartment for resources. It ended up with Eri having toilet paper wrapped around her neck. And after having been told that Pretend didn't have to be too accurate, she added so much mouse to her hair that it nearly stood straight up. Meanwhile, Kouta debated on a costume made of a straw and pair of googles, but ended up settling on a pair of green bunny ears.

Then, at the sight of his two new fathers, Izuku got into character by proceeding to burst into tears. They finished his look by duct-taping a towel to his behind.

Both children thought this was a better way of acquiring a baby as 'fucking' sounded like not enough fun and too much work.

Truth be told, there wasn't much parenting as both dads were both full-time superheroes, and Izuku mainly stayed at home with Mr. Bear as his nanny.

For the first few minutes, Kouta ran around punching Villains and Eri was puzzled why all the Villains were invisible. Thankfully with a bit of prompting from Kouta and the surprisingly eloquent advice of a baby (that somehow had managed to teleport onto the field of battle), Eri started kicking a few of the downed Villains.

After another thirty minutes of this, Eri asked, "Shouldn't we go back to the baby? Izuku should get to play too."

Kouta paled, hands dropping to his sides. "Yeah, parents should always go back to their baby," he eventually agreed, a crack working its way into his voice. "They have to."

Up until now, Izuku had been happily snapping photos of the adorable antics, but upon his 'parents' returning home and seeing the boy's pinched face, he lowered his phone. "Kouta-kun, are you—?"

"Shhh. Babies don't talk," Kouta said, wiping something wet from his eyes. "Babies are supposed to be taken care of and hugged." He wrapped his arms around the teenager, and needing no prompting, Eri did the same.

Once under control, Kouta got the family back on track. Under his guidance, meals for the family were prepared. Boxes were turned into a stove, a fridge and a set of counters. Prepared lunches further prepared in the miniature kitchen. It didn't go as well as Kouta would have liked because, despite the complete disrespect of the familial hierarchy, Baby Izuku wouldn't investigate the kitchen for cookies or other junk food.

"You got to make the pieces super small," Kouta explained as they got to the business of feeding him. "Otherwise he might choke."

"But—!" Izuku began, realising what the fate of his sandwich was going to be.

"Sh!" Eri chimed in, having got into the spirit of things. "Baby Izuku can't talk."

Izuku was tempted to declare a timeout on the pretending. It really was a nice sandwich. Three different meats, bursting with crisp peppers, fresh tomatoes and cool cucumbers. All of it topped with a spicy avocado and peanut sauce, and held together with newly baked ciabatta bread.

Of course would mean spoiling the moment, ruining Kouta's patriarchal pride and the growing gleam in Eri's eyes. Thus he stayed silent for the feeding session, didn't say anything through the awkwardness of having another towel taped on top of the first one (after many attempts, Eri and Kouta had been unable to remove the first one and unwilling to receive any juvenile aid).

The previous day's Hero training had been quite intense and Kouta had firmly stated that coffee was an adult drink and not good for infants. Therefore Izuku started yawning and Eri suggested that maybe he needed a nap.

Thus they set up a refrigerator box as a crib and 'helped' the baby toddle into it.

"No blankets. He might choke," Kouta warned Eri as they settled him down, "and ya gotta make sure he's on his back for safety." For the latter, the children tried to roll him from his side to his back, failed, then poked the laughing oversized infant until he did it on his own.

"Now we are supposed to hug and kiss him so he has a good sleep."

This time Eri needed no prompting, and smothered Izuku with multiple kisses and wrapped plump limbs around his neck. When she was done, Kouta patted his head and gave him his own gentle kiss before leading Eri out of the crib.

While their baby was sleeping, Eri and Kouta happily devoured the remnants of their (undesecrated) lunches.

"You know a lot about babies, Kouta," Eri observed. "How come?"

Kouta looked down, scuffing the carpet. "My parents used to talk about having or adopting one. I wanted to be a good big brother so I asked a lotta questions."

"Oh, are you a big brother now?"

"No."

Eri was a bit disappointed by the answer. After feeding him and changing Pretend Baby Izuku, she thought it might be nice to do it with a real baby. Something small and soft. Something she could protect instead of everyone protecting her. "Are you going to be?" she asked hopefully.

"No. They can't have babies anymore. They're dead," Kouta stated bluntly. He pulled out a little velcro wallet from his back pocket, opening it to reveal a picture featuring a little Kouta being cuddled by a man and a woman. He slowly passed it to Eri, who cradled it as if it were made of glass. "That's them."

She stroked the photo carefully. Everyone looked very happy there. "What happened?"

"A monster killed them," Kouta said solemnly. He brightened slightly. "But later Izuku stopped him."

Considering this carefully, Eri asked, "Do you think he'd stop the monster who killed my daddy?"

"'Course," Kouta declared. "I bet he's hunting him down already."

"She," Eri said. "She used her Quirk to do it."

"He'll get her then . . . and I'll ask my aunties and uncle to help. And I bet your Eraserhead-san and all his friends will help too and—" He stopped midspeech when he realised that Eri's grip on the picture had tightened and now a deep crease cut through his father. "Eri-chan, are you okay?"

Realising what she had done and horrified by it, Eri dropped the photo like it was on fire, skittering away and into a corner of the room. "I'm sorry! I hurt your daddy."

"It's just a photo. I got others." He picked up the wallet photo, flattened it out and offered it to her. "Besides. It's fine again."

Eri refused to even glance at it, and tightly shutting her eyes, she curled into a ball. "No! I hurt your daddy. Just like I hurt my daddy."

Slowly Kouta recalled what Eraserhead-san mentioned about Eri's Quirk. That it was very powerful and she had only recently got control of it. "It's okay."

"No, it is not!" Eri sobbed. "My mommy said so. Said I was a bad monster who made Daddy go away forever!"

"Then she wasn't a real mom anyways!" Kouto ferociously declared. "If she were a real mom, she would have said it was an accident." He stomped his foot. "If you didn't want it to happen, it doesn't count. My mommy and daddy are gone, but they didn't want to leave me so they didn't abandon me. That makes a difference."

"But he's still gone."

"No, he's not."

"But—"

Kouta took her hand, and then, pulling her to her feet, wrapped his arms tightly around her. "He's not all gone. You remember him? Him holding you? Making you feel happy?—safe?

Eri sniffled and looked up at him through water-laden eyelashes. "...Uh huh?." she said hesitantly.

"My daddy always said that's why mommies and daddies . . . That's why real mommies and daddies hug their babies. Hug 'em. Kiss 'em. Hold 'em." He pressed a kiss to her cheek and whispered, "'Cause no matter what, we know we got their love. And that never leaves."

An hour later, Izuku woke feeling rather sheepish. He had been supposed to help Eri learn to play. He had only supposed to pretend to fall asleep and not actually do it. Well, he had and by doing so had left Kouta stuck holding the fort.

He shifted to see if he could see either of the children from his makeshift crib, only to stop when he felt two warm bundles next to him. Warm, yes, but not as warm as the feeling building in his chest.

Down by his waist, Kouta and Eri had tucked themselves into his sides, their hands joined together just above Izuku's belly button. Carefully Izuku lay back down, and put a hand on each of their backs, completing the three person hug.

He had the best daddies ever.