After calming Izuku down enough to put away his notebooks and things from his sleepover at Emi's, Shouta went to get dressed properly and put a bag of snacks and water bottles together. ("Not a diaper bag, Emi, he's not two.") This, unfortunately, gave Yamada- Hizashi, Shouta had been informed- enough time to catch up with Emi. Because apparently the two knew each other. And if one of them wasn't enough of a headache, then two of them was a fucking migraine.

Shouta was saved from the two belting out into a singing contest by the toddling noise of Izuku's stamping feet. The small child entered the living room with his hair in disarray and about a half dozen toys in his arms. Swiftly, kicking Emi's feet away from his as he went, Shouta stood from the couch and crouched down to heft his kid up onto his hip, blatantly ignoring Yamada's odd

staring.

"Kiddo, you can't take all of these with us," Shouta told Izuku, earning a pout from the child. "One toy, Izuku. You can play with the others later." Because Shouta didn't want to have to keep track of all of Izuku's favorite toys. Because he was surely to lose one, and he really didn't want to deal with a meltdown today. When Izuku opened his mouth to object, Shouta tapped the boy's nose with a finger and repeated, "One, Izuku."

Pouting, but no longer objecting, Izuku ran back to his room, toys in hand. Shouta heard the telltale thudding of the boy's toy chest opening and shutting, and he fought hard not to smile to himself. Izuku was a good kid. Shouta had really lucked out. His tantrums were few and far between, even if his crying meltdowns were a bit more common. And the kid cleaned up after himself. From what Shouta had heard of other children, that was a miracle in of itself.

Emi and Yamada were ramping up once more, and Shouta fought the urge to flare his quirk at the two and yell for them to shut up. He was saved by Izuku once more, however, when the little boy rushed back into the room with a single toy in hand.

Abruptly, Shouta's good mood dropped.

Because Izuku had, of course, chosen his Present Mic action figure.

Fighting down the sigh that was building behind his chest- and the headache that was beginning in the base of his skull- Shouta rubbed the bridge of his nose and said, "Okay, kiddo. Say bye to Emi."

Whereas Izuku would typically pout at Emi's departure, the child merely hugged his aunt and chirped, "Bye-bye, Auntie Joke!" (Shouta absolutely took pleasure in the slight disappointment in Emi's eyes when she didn't have time to hug Izuku back) and then the child was bounding over to Yamada and grabbing the man's hand, tugging and tugging until Yamada stood from the couch and stumbled after the child.

Izuku brought Yamada over to stand right next to Shouta even as he thrusted the toy at the blonde man. "Look, look, Mr. Present Mic Yamada-san! It's you!"

"It is!" Yamada had the utter audacity to grin dopily and beam down at Shouta's child, making the underground hero's stomach flutter. He quickly tamped down on those absolutely not-emotions, choosing to definitively not deal with them later. "Wow, little listener! This one is a really old one, back from when I was first starting out. How'd you get a hold of it?"

As Shouta led Yamada and Izuku out the front door- not-so subtly kicking Emi's shin as she exited past him, giggling up a storm- he listened to his kid regale Yamada with the tales of his fourth birthday. It had been a rough one, certainly, what with Izuku being disappointed about his quirk not coming in. So Shouta may have gone a little overboard on the presents, but it wasn't a big deal. Izuku could do with a tiny bit of spoiling every once in a while, especially with how often Shouta was out working.

And the man certainly felt guilty about that. Being an underground hero and a teacher took a lot out of his days. At night, he would patrol while Izuku's regular babysitter- a sweet young woman who was working on her teaching degree and was a very vocal advocate for Quirkless rights- watched him until late into the evening. Around one to two am, Shouta would appear at home to pay Hanako, make sure she got out to her car, and check in on Izuku. He would then promptly fall into bed and get a few meager hours of sleep before waking up to get Izuku ready for the day. Izuku went to a school further away than usual, which meant they had to take the subway to get there, but

Shouta wouldn't trade the boy's gloriously wonderful and accepting teacher for any other. Aldera Elementary School had been absolutely horrid, and it had taken only one week before Shouta was withdrawing Izuku from their curriculum and shutting down any and all ties with the Bakugou family that they'd previously had. The Bakugous may have been friends with Inko, but Shouta wouldn't stand for their kid bullying and assaulting Izuku. Especially for something as ridiculous as not having a quirk.

Which, now that he thought about it as he hailed a cab, Shouta was concerned about for their day. Because Yamada seemed like the chatty type, and Izuku was too when he was comfortable (Shouta wasn't sure whether he was happy or angry that Izuku seemed to already be comfortable with Yamada, but given that the man was Present Mic... he'd let it slide), but now that Yamada knew Izuku's age, the topic of quirks was more than likely to come up. Especially when Izuku was already so fond of quirk theory, even though he could only talk about it in the most basic of terms.

What would Yamada's reaction be when he heard Izuku was Quirkless?

Shouta wasn't a wishful kind of man, choosing instead to rely on cold, hard facts.

But as he looked over at Yamada opening the door to the cab for Izuku, helping the child shuffle inside, Izuku beaming up at Yamada like the man hung the sun in the sky-

Well, Shouta couldn't help but hope. ...

Getting to the park was easy. The cab driver was politely quiet the whole way there, which Shouta appreciated, given the Yamada and Izuku were talking at a million miles an hour about... JSL? Yamada was teaching Izuku a few signs in JSL. And even with the clumsy hands of a small child, Izuku was taking to it like a duck to water. It gave Shouta pause for a moment. Maybe teaching the kid JSL would have been better in the early days. Maybe it would've caused less strife on Izuku's quiet days, the days when he could hardly nod yes or no, much less speak.

But it wouldn't do to dwell on the past. There was nothing to be done for it, and they'd figured things out eventually. Shouta had figured out quickly how to read Izuku's moods. He could tell when the child was too anxious to speak, too upset to convey his emotions properly, and even happier than a lark.

The whole happier than a lark would apply now. While the kid was talking to Present-fucking-Mic.

Jesus, Shouta thought, running a hand down his face as he tipped their cab driver rather generously. "Thanks," he said dryly, the cabbie tipping his hat back and grinning like a loon before driving away.

Turning around, Shouta took in the sight of Yamada crouching next to his son, beaming at the child just as Izuku had been beaming at him before. Yamada had tugged a dandelion from the ground and was explaining how to make a wish on it to Izuku, the child's eyes wide with wonder.

Shouta had to tamp down on a smile.

It wasn't cute.

It wasn't.

Yamada was an unknown factor, unknown territory that could be a terrible influence on Izuku...

But, while he stood there watching Yamada teaching his son how to wish on a dandelion, Shouta couldn't help but think that the man meant no harm. Not to Shouta's kid, and maybe... maybe not even to Shouta.

And then Yamada's gaze turned to Shouta, and he fucking winked, and Shouta felt a blush rising to his cheeks- curse his pale complexion - as he quickly turned towards the park. Reaching a hand out for Izuku to take- the child taking it without complaint, having long since learned to do so- Shouta began a slow walk towards the park. Shouta had learned early on that Izuku was prone to distractions, and- especially with being small for his age- had trouble keeping up if Shouta used his usual long-legged stride. And so, Shouta walked slowly. Yamada stood on Izuku's other side, still talking to the child about wishes and weeds.

"What did you wish for, buddy?" Yamada asked him.

Shouta tensed up, not knowing what to expect from his child.

But then, oh-so innocently, Izuku said, "I wished for ice cream after the park!" Slyly glancing up at his father, Izuku said in the sweetest of voices, "Daddy, please?"

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Shouta said, "Maybe, Izuku." They'd reached the edge of the playground, and Shouta nodded out towards the swing set. "Swings now or later, kiddo?"

Thinking it over for a moment, a little hand on his littler chin, Izuku murmured, "Later... I wanna go play heroes now."

"Then go play heroes," Shouta told his kid, nudging Izuku towards the grassy area next to the playground.

"Yamada-san can come play, too?" Izuku asked the hero, who beamed down at Izuku. (They'd fortunately established in the cab ride over that Izuku didn't have to refer to Yamada as Mr. Present Mic Yamada-san, even as adorable as it was.)

"If it's okay with your dad, then sure!"

"Daddy?" Izuku turned wide eyes towards his father, and Shouta bit the inside of his cheek. Oddly enough, the protective instincts inside of him lay dormant when Izuku was around Yamada. Maybe it was because he knew the other man was also a Pro Hero. But then again, Shouta knew some pretty shitty Pro Heroes.

"Sure, Izuku," Shouta shrugged. "Go have fun."

Izuku cheered before dragging Yamada off towards the playground, rambling on and on about how Izuku was going to play as All Might and Yamada could be a villain. It was honestly adorable, even if Shouta still sat on a nearby bench with his arms crossed. (He was not pouting, though. Absolutely not. Izuku could play heroes with someone else if he wanted to. Shouta wasn't jealous.)

It was a little... concerning, though, how quickly Izuku took to Yamada. Yamada, of course, had done nothing wrong- Shouta was begrudged to admit- and had been nothing but polite and kind the entire while. Really, Shouta had been the one to tug the asshole-itry out of the man that morning.

And Shouta very well probably would have reacted the same way as Yamada if their roles had been reversed.

So, no, it wasn't anything Yamada had done that was concerning Shouta. It was Izuku. What with how skittish and shy he was around other kids, he was confident and inquisitive around adults. Rather, Pro Heroes. The boy was a different person around the few Pros that Shouta had the misfortune of introducing him to. Gang Orca, Best Jeanist, Ms. Joke (of course), Endeavor (which had ended in tears, an absolute shitshow) ... For being an underground hero, Eraserhead had worked alongside quite a few spotlight heroes.

It would make sense that Izuku was more comfortable with heroes- Endeavor notwithstanding- seeing as how he'd been around Shouta for the entirety of his formative years. And Shouta had, of course, been nothing but kind to the boy, even in his own standoffish way. When Izuku had come under Shouta's guardianship after Inko...

Well, Shouta had been forced to do the opposite of what was suggested- he'd put on the kiddie gloves- in order to raise Izuku.

Izuku had been an emotional mess when Shouta got him, even for a two-year-old. He cried constantly, flinched at any motion from Shouta, and was an absolute recluse at nursery school. It had taken literal years- and a lot of hard work- to get Izuku to where he was now.

And even then, the boy still flinched around kids his age.

Shouta only had Aldera Elementary to thank for that. (He'd been trying to build a case against them, a lawsuit, but nobody wanted to work towards helping the little quirkless kid. Only Emi and Izuku's babysitter seemed as indignant about it as Shouta, although the two were also the next closest thing Izuku had to family besides Shouta's mothers.)

In the field across from the playground, Izuku pretended to punch Yamada's shin, and the man did a rather dramatic staggering fall to the ground, reaching out a hand as if begging Izuku for mercy. Izuku seemed to think it over for a minute before nodding emphatically, reaching a hand out to Yamada who took it with a wide grin, hefting himself up off the grass and ruffling Izuku's hair. True to form, Izuku leaned into the contact with a loud giggle.

Shouta didn't bother hiding his small smile, knowing the two were too far away to see it. So he was a little soft for his kid, so what?

The air around Shouta shifted, and a presence sat to his right at the far end of the bench. An elderly woman sighed gently as she sat, bringing a baggie of what appeared to be birdseed from her pocket. She turned and scattered the seed behind the bench, and Shouta surreptitiously slid a bit further to the left, his smile fading in the presence of a stranger.

Satisfied with her work, the woman turned back around and tapped her walking cane against the ground, smiling as she stared out over the field with glass-colored eyes. Her gaze turned towards Shouta, then out to where his line of sight was- at Izuku and Yamada. "Are those two yours?" she asked him, her voice weathered and gentle. "The boy's hair looks much like yours, I daresay."

Izuku wasn't biologically Shouta's, but the man really didn't want to get in on that sort of conversation with a stranger. Instead, he grunted out, "The boy's mine. The man... not so much."

It was at that very moment that Yamada leaned down to heft Izuku up, raising the child above his head in (an only slightly impressive) display of strength that had Shouta near blushing. Yamada whirled Izuku around, seemingly singing something to the child as Izuku's whole body was

wracked with giggles. Eventually, the giggling was shaking Izuku too much to where Yamada had to set him down on the grass. Immediately, the boy flopped backwards onto his back, panting for air. Yamada laid down about a yard away from him, pointing up at the sky and making the JSL sign for 'bunny'.

"Well," the old woman said with a low chuckle, "I daresay he gets along quite fine with your child. Perhaps making him yours would be best, before someone else snatches him up. Eh, young man?"

Before Shouta could stop blushing and bluescreening, the woman stood and left. Cocking an eyebrow at the odd interaction, Shouta watched her walk away until she got to the edge of the park, getting on a bus and riding away.

"Odd..." he murmured to himself.

But then two tiny hands were suddenly on his knees, and Shouta's attention was turned to his son's wide-eyed gaze.

"Daddy, swings now?"

Shouta frowned slightly and replied, "Swings now...?"

And Izuku rolled his eyes. (Shouta knew that the action came from himself, a learned behavior, but he was choosing to blame Emi.) "Swings now, please?"

"Yes, Izuku, we can go to the swings."

Shouta had thought that pushing Izuku on the swings in the presence of Yamada would be an awkward affair. However, it was anything but. Yamada took the empty swing next to Izuku, lightly kicking himself forward and back as he continued to engage Izuku in conversation. Yamada even put forth the effort to try and engage Shouta as well, and Shouta's one-word and grunted answers did nothing to deter the man in his questioning.

Odd.

The only person near his age to have ever treated Shouta like anything other than a chore or a bother was Emi. The man had to admit, he was a bit (a lot) of a recluse and a loner (when he didn't have about four and a half whiskeys in him). Antisocial would only be touching the tip of the iceberg in describing Shouta.

And yet... Yamada tried. And, more than tried, he seemed happy to try.

With a carefree grin and a laugh, Yamada spoke to Shouta and spoke to Shouta's kid like he'd known them for years, not hours. He talked everything and anything under the sun with Izuku, listening to the kid spout random facts- "Mr. Yamada, did you know that butterflies come from cocoons?! They sleep for a long time and then pop out all pretty!!"- and middle school-level quirk assessments.

It was all... so domestic. Which should have been much weirder than it actually was. Shouta found himself comfortable in Yamada's presence.

Yeah, quite odd indeed.

...

Aizawa was definitely the stoic, brooding type.

It wasn't the type that Hizashi typically went for. He'd had a short stint of dating Fukukado, actually, before the two realized they were better off just as friends. But that was Hizashi's type- bubbly, friendly, extroverted.

Aizawa seemed to be the exact opposite of everything Hizashi had always qualified as "his type".

But maybe... maybe he could branch out a bit.

And then, watching Aizawa's small, gentle smile as he pushed his son on the swing set, Hizashi's heart twanged and he thought, Oh.

Yeah, he could definitely stand to branch out a bit.

But... would Aizawa be okay with casual dating? He'd been okay with a one night stand, it seemed, but something told Hizashi that it was uncharacteristic of the man. Maybe it was the fact that Aizawa seemed so attached to Emi, even as he'd shooed the woman out of their apartment. Maybe it was the way he'd snuggled up to Hizashi all morning, even as he treated him with distaste (at the least) once Izuku had arrived home.

Maybe Hizashi was just a masochist, illuding himself into thinking that he could make something work with a single dad who seemed to hate his guts.

Because Aizawa had yet to do anything but glare at Hizashi while all of his tenderness was

focused on Izuku. Right up until that moment... That moment that Hizashi had caught Aizawa staring at him and Izuku, crouched on the ground with a dandelion between them. Hizashi had seen the weeds and gotten the idea, eagerly instructing Izuku like the child was one of his students. And Izuku was a brilliant child. The way he spoke about all of the random tidbits of knowledge he had and the way he'd immediately taken to Hizashi's mini JSL lesson had spoken volumes. Izuku was a brilliant, bright child.

And, from the way Aizawa had gazed upon them, crouched by the weeds, Hizashi thought that maybe that brilliant brightness had been cultivated by the most jaded man he'd met since he looked in a mirror the night before.

Maybe... Aizawa had brightness in himself, too.

When Izuku started talking quirk assessments, Hizashi couldn't help but grin and theorize right back. Of course, Izuku chose to break down his father's quirk, it probably being the one he knew best. Because Izuku was only five; he wouldn't have a grasp on his own quirk for another few years (or months, perhaps, with how bright this child was). And Erasure seemed like a fucking rad quirk. One that could counter Hizashi's misuses of Voice perfectly.

Shut up, brain, we're not gonna serenade a guy for his fucking quirk, dammit. That's so fucked up.

And what with all of the talk on quirk theory, even in a child's simplest terminology (although Izuku seemed to have the concepts down pact), Hizashi couldn't help but wonder if Izuku had inherited his father's quirk. Or some type of crazy amalgamation of his father's and biological mother's, if Quirk Doomsday Theory had any hold.

So, it was innocently that Hizashi asked, "What's your quirk, little listener?" And Izuku's face crumpled.