Chapter Text
Shouta sat on a bench, a little bite on the breeze threatening the looming winter. He was watching Togata and Midoriya play with Eri, some game that seemed to consist of the boys tossing her around while she shrieked with laughter.
She'd come so far in such a short time. Eri came into their care all those months ago solemn and afraid, like being happy enough to laugh was completely beyond her. Recovery was a work in progress, and she still had a long way to go, but she had a reason to laugh now. Even if it was because of a couple of goofy teenagers treating her like a football.
Shouta didn't need to be there. He could count the number of quirk accidents she'd had on one hand, but he still preferred to keep an eye on her. The accidents frightened her less than they used to, but less wasn't none. It made Shouta feel better to keep her where he could see her, and he knew that was something they were going to have to work on before it became a problem. Eri couldn't use him as a crutch, and Shouta couldn't keep her close forever for his own peace of mind.
Quirk training was something she'd need to start, and soon.
The game had calmed, and Togata had Eri propped on his hip, hair mussed and smile bright as he said something Shouta couldn't hear. He watched as Togata slung a friendly arm around Midoriya's shoulders, stoking a curl of territorial jealousy that made Shouta frown. He knew why it happened, but that didn't mean it was appropriate. There was something deeply unpleasant about watching an alpha act so friendly with Shouta's mate and his—his daughter, he supposed, even if the label still didn't feel quite right. Which was frustrating because Midoriya wasn't his mate and Shouta knew Togata was spoken for.
The two of them shared a particular kind of guilt over Eri. The guilt that they hadn't saved her when they had the chance, that she'd had to endure more hurt because they were unprepared to act. It was a bond of a sort, of a perceived shared failure. The fact that they were both so invested in Eri's well-being was hardly a surprise, even if Shouta thought they didn't deserve the guilt they carried.
Learning to live with mistakes was part of learning to be a hero. They were as human as anyone else, with everything that entailed. At least this one still had a happy end, even if the cost was high.
Shouta did wish all his stupid, territorial alpha instincts would shut up and lie flat. They didn't usually give him so much trouble. Eri was stirring up a lot of protective impulses he wasn't quite used to, and having Midoriya around so much was... difficult. Seeing Midoriya interacting with Eri was doubly so. Less than a year, and Shouta was already so tired of dealing with Midoriya. He was a good kid. Shouta liked him, which was no great surprise. But he wanted his husband back.
With the feeling came a guilt he didn't quite expect. Like we was waiting for the kid to hurry up and disappear so Shouta's life could go back to normal. And sure, he knew that Midoriya would be okay when the time came—more than okay. There was a place waiting for him in the past, a life and future that would treat him well. But there were hardships, too. Lost friends, family, a lost life that Shouta didn't think Izuku ever stopped grieving for. Not entirely.
To stand on the sidelines and wish him gone so Shouta could finally have Izuku back felt almost cruel.
He tilted his head back, staring up at the bright red leaves. He wished it weren't so complicated. He wished Midoriya had the benefit of a teacher that wasn't so fucked up about him in the strangest ways. He wished he never lost Izuku to begin with.
Someone sat beside him, and Shouta looked over to see the object of his woes. The breeze ruffled Midoriya's hair, and Shouta ignored the sudden, sharp urge to touch. Having the kid around so much was murder on the compartmentalization.
"How are things going?" Midoriya asked. Shouta raised a brow, and he clarified, "With Eri, I mean."
It was a big question. Shouta considered Togata and Eri, who were now sitting in the grass. She'd come a long, long way, but Shouta still frightened her in a way that made his heart ache. He knew it wasn't really about him, but about what he shared with the people who hurt her. He was an alpha, and unlike Togata he didn't offset that built-in intimidation factor with silliness. She seemed to understand that Shouta was the one who was in charge of her, and as much as it galled, he knew that Chisaki was the analogue that she measured him against. It was a truth that colored their relationship in a way he was unsure how to fix.
He could see the way Eri tested his reaction to everything, like she was searching for the boundaries that would make him turn on her. It seemed like she was always apologizing for living, for the trespass of existing. She'd flinch from him if he moved too quickly, even though he'd never laid a hand on her—never would. Shouta knew that wasn't his fault, but watching an abused kid treat him like a walking time bomb brought back a lot of unpleasant memories.
He saw a lot of himself in Eri. She held up a mirror to his own childhood in a way Shouta didn't care for. He wouldn't pretend that having a father that liked to take out his anger on a helpless kid was at all comparable to the torture Eri endured, but the way she treated him? That was terribly, uncomfortably familiar.
He should give Midoriya a platitude. Instead, a thread of honesty slipped out. "She's afraid of me."
Midoriya hummed thoughtfully. "I was afraid of you too, at first."
Shouta snorted. That was different. Intimidating a bunch of overconfident hero wannabes was his job. "At first?" he asked. This kid was getting way too comfortable with him.
Midoriya shrugged. "Then I got to know you. And I realized the only reason you're so hard on us is because you care."
He wasn't wrong, but Shouta wasn't sure he liked the fact that this kid already had his number. "All I'm hearing is I need to be tougher."
The brat rolled his eyes. "Anyway, what I meant is that she just needs some time to get used to you. She really likes you!"
Shouta cast him a doubtful look. Eri liked Midoriya and Togata. She liked Hizashi. Shouta didn't think she cared much for him. But still, she talked to Midoriya more than she did anyone else, maybe the kid knew something. "Does she?"
"Yeah, but—" Midoriya cut off, legs swinging and face thoughtful. "I think being afraid is all she knows. And she's doing her best to change, but it's hard." His voice went soft, contemplative. "It's hard to stop being scared when that's all you know how to be."
It wasn't something Shouta didn't already know, but hearing it from someone else helped a little. "She's been through a lot."
Midoriya nodded. "She cares more about what you think than anyone else."
Shouta looked at him, surprised. "Me? Why?"
"Because you're her dad?" Midoriya said, brow furrowing like he was confused by Shouta's confusion.
It was the first time anyone had used that word. Even Hizashi had been uncharacteristically sensitive, knowing Shouta's difficulties with the idea. He swallowed hard and looked away. "I didn't realize."
"It's kinda funny, because mostly she's worried that you don't like her," Midoriya continued.
Shouta's gaze cut back to him, startled. Eri thought he didn't like her? Where had she gotten that idea?
Except... except Shouta had never really thought about it. Whether or not he actually liked Eri was inconsequential compared to the fact that she needed him. They'd had so much to deal with that he'd never given it any thought.
Did he like her? It was an uncomfortable question to ask, but he thought he did. She was gentle with Mochi, and entirely too serious for her age. It worried Hizashi, but Shouta didn't mind. He was the same way when he was little. She was starting to show little blooms of personality now—she liked cats and unicorns, and her favorite color was purple. She colored like she was going to war. And the way she made Hizashi all soft at the edges? Scratched some alpha instinct like a deep itch.
Eri was trying so hard, every day.
Shouta did like her. And if he'd never given it any thought, if she was so unsure, maybe that meant he wasn't doing a very good job letting her know that.
"Deku! Look what I found!" Eri ran up to them, excited and breathless. She thrust her hands at Midoriya, holding out a cluster of hardy purple wildflowers, holdouts against the impending winter. She liked flowers. Liked the changing colors of the trees, liked listening to the birds and watching the squirrels. Shouta didn't think the Hassaikai let her outside much, if at all.
Midoriya smiled at her, warm and soft, and Shouta clenched his jaw. He also liked the effect she had on Midoriya, because instinct couldn't differentiate between this boy and Izuku. All it saw was his mate and his kid, and kept making him have feelings about it that he shouldn't.
He plucked one of the flowers from her grasp, twirled it between his fingers, and then tucked it behind his ear. His curls all but ate the small flower, but it was a cute gesture. Then he glanced at Shouta and leaned over, whispering something in Eri's ear.
Whatever he said made Eri frown with soft uncertainty, gaze skating to Shouta and then back to Midoriya. "I don't think so," she replied in a stage whisper.
"Trust me!" Midoriya said.
The look on Eri's face said he was asking a lot, but she turned to Shouta. She hesitated a moment, and then grabbed one of her flowers and thrust it at Shouta like a sword.
The small offering made something in his chest tighten. "Is this for me?"
Eri nodded, glancing back at Midoriya who gave her an unsubtle thumbs up. Meddler, he thought with more fondness than he should. Then he accepted the flower from Eri, and after a moment of hesitation, tucked it behind his ear like Midoriya had. "Thank you," he said, a smile tugging at his lips.
Eri's eyes went round, and then she beamed at him in a way Shouta didn't think she ever had, before running back to Togata.
Maybe he really had been wearing his worries too close to the surface. He'd have to be more mindful of that; Eri didn't deserve the weight of his problems. "What did you say to her?" Shouta asked.
Midoriya looked very pleased with himself. "I told her you'd like a flower too."
Shouta might be ambivalent about flowers, but Eri's happiness over the small exchange? That he did like. "Thanks."
Midoriya looked abruptly bashful, launching himself from the bench like sitting beside Shouta was suddenly too embarrassing to endure. "Just trying to help!" He took a few steps backward, towards Togata and Eri, and then paused. "I'm glad you decided to take her in," he said, then spun on his heel and fled.
Having Midoriya's approval was a strange feeling. Like he had Izuku's approval too.
Shouta watched Togata braid the rest of the flowers into Eri's hair, feeling a little more at ease. Eri didn't know how to be a kid, and Shouta didn't know how to be a parent, but that was something they could figure out together.
* * *
Hizashi flopped onto the couch with a dramatic sigh. It was nice to sit, he didn't get to do near enough sitting.
Eri was on the other side of the couch, watching her cartoons with a focused intensity that might be a little worrying if that wasn't how she approached everything. Like learning how to be a normal kid was a fight she was determined to win. Hizashi leaned against the arm of the couch, chin in hand, and considered her.
The hardest part of it all wasn't what he expected it to be. The space between him and Shouta, pretending not to be something they were? It sucked, but it wasn't the end of the world. Hizashi might spend more time making out with his husband in supply closets than he ever expected, but it was fine. Eri wasn't watching them all the time, and there was something about the choice of it all that made it easier to endure. He and Shouta were in this together.
No, the hardest part was the fact that this sad, damaged little girl set off all the maternal instincts Hizashi didn't realize he had like a wrecking ball in a minefield. He was already cuddly by nature, and all he wanted to do was clutch that baby to his chest and snuggle her for the next five to ten business years.
Which was pretty normal for new omega parents, he learned. Protective instinct and bonding impulse all rolled into one. Nemuri might laugh at all the parenting books but Hizashi didn't know shit and they were helpful, okay? And that clinginess was fine when you were dealing with a barely animate potato of a newborn. It was a good thing for parent and baby. Except Eri wasn't a baby, and something in Hizashi's janky maze of omega instinct was not getting the memo.
It might not even matter if she was a normal kid. Hizashi could smother her, she'd be annoyed, and it would be fine. But Eri wasn't normal. She was a kid who associated touch with hurt, and her therapist suggested letting her take the lead, move at her own pace. Which meant being respectful of her personal space. And she was getting better! She'd hold their hands without prompting, she seemed to enjoy Hizashi brushing her hair. It was all good progress.
Now that he was thinking about it, the fact that he couldn't cuddle Shouta at whim anymore either probably wasn't helping.
Oh well, he was a big, tough hero. He could handle a dearth of baby snuggles in his life.
Hizashi tuned out the cartoon, mind wandering until he noticed Eri move. He watched from the corner of his eye as she scooted towards him, slow, like she was trying not to spook him. Hizashi swallowed a smile and pretended not to notice. She kept going until she was just close enough to brush his leg, and then stopped.
This was a new thing in the last few weeks. Hizashi would find Eri lingering in his space, never really touching him, but a little too close to be unintentional. He thought she might be working up to something. It always seemed to happen when she was testing a boundary or trying something new. She'd circle it for a few days or so before finally screwing up the nerve. Like the way she'd haunted Hizashi while he was making dinner before finally asking one night if they could have pancakes.
They had pancakes.
Eri asked for so little that they tried to encourage it by giving her what she wanted if they could. If she was a normal kid that might be a recipe for a spoiled brat, but in this case? If his baby was brave enough to ask for pancakes for dinner then by god, she was going to get it.
So Hizashi waited to see if she was just hanging out or if today was the day, and after a few minutes she reached out and tugged the hem of his shirt.
Oho, jackpot. He smiled down at her. "What do you need, kiddo?" It was hard for her to articulate her needs sometimes, but they found a little gentle prompting could help.
Eri scrunched up her little face. "Can I...?" She trailed off, staring at Hizashi like she was trying to communicate her wants via telepathy. He wasn't sure what she was after, so it was a little bit of wishful thinking when he asked, "You wanna cuddle?" To his surprise, a look of immense relief crossed her face, followed by a rapid nod.
Oh. Well.
It was the first time she'd ever asked for something like that, and Hizashi was a little embarrassed by how happy it made him.
Okay, okay, don't make a big deal out of it.
"Heck yeah!" he said brightly. "Snuggle time!" He opened his arms, expecting Eri's usual caution, maybe a tentative cuddle against his side.
But no. Now that she had permission she was all in, clambering right into his lap without a lick of hesitation. Hizashi held still while she curled against his chest, and absolutely did not tear up a little bit.
This was huge, wasn't it? Proof that she trusted him, that she saw him as a safe person, a source of comfort. He wrapped his arms around her—loose because they'd learned the hard way that feeling smothered could trigger a panic attack—and watched her reaction, unsure.
There was nothing to worry about. Eri melted right into him, content as anything. She tucked her head under his chin, and Hizashi started purring like she'd tripped a switch. It was all hormones probably, the way she made him feel. An imprint doing exactly what it was meant to do. Hizashi didn't care. Eri was his baby and he would do anything for her.
His purring was met with a soft gasp, and Hizashi realized this must be the first time she'd heard him purr. He never was any good at doing it on command. "You sound like Mochi!" she said, delighted, one palm pressed flat to his chest to feel the vibration of it. "How are you doing that?"
"Some omegas can purr," he explained, nuzzling against her hair. He tried to figure out how to explain it in a way that would make sense to her. "You know how Mochi purrs when she's happy?" Eri nodded. "It's just like that. We purr when we're happy with the people we like."
"I like it," she said.
Eri lost interest in her cartoons in favor of snuggling, and after a few minutes Hizashi switched off the television. Quiet settled over them, broken only by the faint rumble of his purr, and he was pretty sure she was well on her way to sleep. Hizashi stroked a hand over her hair, earning a content little sigh.
The idea of Eri had scared the shit out of him at first. All he could think about was what he didn't know, what he was going to sacrifice. He worried that she'd be too much pressure for a relationship that was still mending, not quite whole. And he realized now, holding this sleeping girl in his arms, that none of that mattered. He was happy it happened, happy to have her despite the challenges.
Under that feeling was a soft, persistent melancholy that they couldn't be the family he wanted. That they had to lie to her, even though it was for a good reason. But that was only temporary, a small handful of years until there was no reason to pretend anymore. Hizashi leaned his cheek against her head. He always wanted children, and now he had one in a way he never expected.
It hurt, though, to realize this milestone happened without Izuku. Their Izuku. The family Hizashi always wanted was incomplete without their missing mate. Having Eri sleeping in his arms and knowing Izuku wasn't there to be a part of it? It felt so unfair. He was the whole reason they had her, and he wasn't even there to enjoy it.
Hizashi wished Izuku was there, just for now. Just for a moment. That he could be part of this, if only for one impossible instant. He stroked a hand down Eri's back with a soft sigh. In a couple of years, maybe.
Maybe.
A faint, arrhythmic vibration pulled Hizashi from his thoughts, and he frowned. It felt just out of sync with his own purr, and he wasn't sure what it was for a moment before he realized he could feel it through Eri's back, beneath his hand.
She was—she was purring.
Sputtery and so, so soft that Hizashi could barely tell, but his baby was purring. Hot tears pricked the corners of his eyes, and he swallowed hard. It was stupid to get so emotional over it, but he'd never even met another omega that could, and here was Eri, doing it for the very first time. For him.
Purring was hereditary, and kids learned by mimicking their parents. It was a freak coincidence Eri could do it at all. It didn't mean anything, but at the same time it felt almost like a sign. That she was meant to be here. That she was meant to be his.
Hizashi heard the key in the lock, and hastily wiped away a few stray tears. He didn't want to worry Shouta by being an emotional mess.
Shouta came inside, and Eri remained dead to the world in Hizashi's arms, and hell if that didn't also get him in the feelings. She was an incredibly light sleeper, and the fact that she felt safe enough with him to sleep through Shouta coming home? Goddammit, he was gonna cry again.
Shouta kicked off his shoes, stilling when he caught sight of them on the couch. Hizashi waved him over, dying to share his discovery. As soon as Shouta was close enough, Hizashi caught his wrist and pressed Shouta's palm flat to Eri's back, grinning up at him with a giddy thrill.
A moment passed, then another, and Hizashi could pinpoint the exact moment Shouta realized what he was feeling. The confused pinch of his brows smoothed, his eyes widened, and he looked down at their sleeping daughter with the softest expression Hizashi had ever seen him wear. He didn't speak, didn't want to wake her, but he leaned over to kiss Hizashi, gentle and sweet. When he pulled back, he ghosted a soft touch over Eri's hair, a smile lurking at the corners of his lips.
Shouta loved her, Hizashi could tell. He wasn't sure Shouta had quite figured that out for himself, but he'd get there. Hizashi loved her too, this brave, damaged little girl trying to figure out how she fit in her new world. Figuring out how to care for people, how to let them care for her. He thought that they might need Eri as much as she needed them.
It wasn't quite the family Hizashi had envisioned, and Izuku's absence was a hurt that never healed. But in this small, quiet moment, Hizashi knew this life was still one worth having.
* * *
"Are you ready?" Shouta asked, looking down at Eri. She looked back up at him and nodded, tiny face screwed up in determination.
Today was a big day. It was the first time they were going on an outing outside the walls of the school. It was Midoriya's idea, because of course it was. There was a cat cafe not far from there, and it would make a perfect test to see how she handled being in a new environment around strangers. Shouta thought the kids, rambunctious as they were, had done a good job helping socialize her, even if she found them a bit overwhelming at times.
Shouta held out his hand, smiling when Eri took it without hesitation. He wasn't sure exactly when that happened, but it was a nice feeling, to know that if nothing else she trusted him to hold her hand. "Then let's go."
If today went well, then maybe next time he'd let the boy take her alone. Quirk training was going well. She hadn't had an accident in weeks, but they were about to put her in a potentially stressful situation, and Shouta thought it was safest if he was there. He didn't want Midoriya in the position where he had to break himself to channel her quirk. Once was enough.
Hizashi straightened her coat a little, and Shouta knew he was dying to go with them. But Hizashi avoided spending too much time around Midoriya, especially with Eri. He worried that his obvious affection for her might lead to assumptions about them that they were trying to avoid. "Have fun, you two! Play with lots of kitties for me."
"Are you sure you can't come?" she asked, giving him the biggest, saddest eyes Shouta had ever seen.
Hizashi made a sound like he was in physical pain. "I've got work to do, kiddo. You'll have to have enough fun for the both of us. Gimme a hug."
She dropped Shouta's hand and ran into his arms without hesitation. Shouta envied their ease with physical affection, but he also knew Eri's relationship with Hizashi was simpler than her relationship with him. They were making progress, and that was what mattered.
Hizashi squeezed her tight, raining kisses on her head and making her giggle. "Be good, babygirl! I love you."
That was new too, and it still made Shouta's heart trip in his chest every time. Hizashi was so good with her, so easily affectionate. It made Shouta wonder if they'd been unfair to him all those years ago, letting him shut his desire for children away. By not talking about it the way they should have.
Eri lingered in his arms. "I love you too," she said, soft.
Shouta and Hizashi stilled, sharing a wide-eyed look over her head. It was the first time she'd said it back, and Shouta could see Hizashi's eyes go glassy with tears as he gave her another tight squeeze. "Course you do!" he said, voice thick around the cheer. "I'm awesome." He turned her back to Shouta. "Now get going, you don't want to keep Midoriya waiting."
Eri perked at the mention of her favorite person, taking Shouta's hand again with an imperious tug that made him smile. "We can't be late!"
"We're not late," he assured her, watching Hizashi surreptitiously wipe away a few stray tears. Watching his mate get emotional over the affection of their daughter—still such a hard word to think, even if that's what she was—made something in his core feel soft and warm.
Then they were off, Eri gamely trotting at his side as they left the school grounds. Shouta watched her carefully, but she seemed more curious than frightened, head swiveling to look at this or that. Her grip on his hand was tight, but she seemed otherwise fine, and Shouta relaxed a little. He knew he was being overcautious, that she would have been fine going with Midoriya alone. Tagging along was more for his own peace of mind than it was for her welfare.
It occurred to Shouta that he might be hovering a bit. With good reason, but still. He wouldn't do Eri any favors teaching her to rely on him all the time.
The cat cafe wasn't far, and in no time at all Shouta spotted Midoriya waiting for them across the street. Midoriya saw them, expression splitting into a bright grin. "Eri!" he called, waving.
Eri perked up like she always did when Midoriya was there. He might be jealous if it wasn't so cute. "Deku!"
Shouta made for the crosswalk, and Eri's grip slipped from his. She was sprinting across the road before Shouta realized he lost her. Running for Midoriya.
Right through fucking traffic.
A car came around the corner and Shouta's heart hit his teeth, already running, but Midoriya beat him to it. The boy launched from the sidewalk like a green blur, sweeping Eri into his arms and careening straight into Shouta.
Shouta took them like a bullet, skidding back a few steps as he checked Midoriya's momentum. The car honked, and Shouta ignored it, heart thundering in his ears as he pried Eri from Midoriya's grasp. He barely noticed the way she clung to his waist as he checked her for injury. She was fine. Midoriya's quick reflexes had saved her from more than a nasty shock.
"Is she okay?" Midoriya asked, breathless with worry.
"She's fine," Shouta said, cupping Midoriya's face, hands shaky with adrenaline, forgetting himself in the need to make sure his mate was all right.
Midoriya was staring at him with wide eyes, and Shouta realized what he was doing, snatching his hands away. "You good?" he asked, voice rough.
"...I'm good," Midoriya replied, a little faint, and Shouta looked away from him, glad for the excuse of Eri. That was a stupid slip; he'd seen the kid do worse than dodge a car.
Shouta peeled Eri away from him, crouching to get a better look at her. She looked frightened, but there wasn't a mark on her. Fear and adrenaline lodged thick in Shouta's throat, and he had to bite back the urge to snap at her. To demand to know what she was thinking, to ask how she could have done something so stupid and dangerous. Eri wasn't one of his students pulling a foolish stunt when they should know better. She was a young girl with less knowledge of the world than a child her age should have. There were so many things she didn't know that she was never taught, and Shouta swallowed the roiling upset and took a long, slow breath.
"You're not hurt anywhere?" he asked, because that was the most important thing. Just because she looked fine didn't mean there wasn't something he'd missed.
She shook her head, face wobbling like she might cry.
"Running across the street like that is very dangerous," Shouta said, firm but gentle, trying to impress on her the importance of what he was saying. "If Midoriya wasn't there, you could have been seriously hurt." Her face wobbled more, and Shouta explained that they only cross at corners and crosswalks, and always check for cars. "Do you understand?"
She nodded, clutching at his arms, big eyes wet with tears. Shouta felt like an asshole, but this was important. "Are you mad at me?" she asked.
It was a common question. Despite how much better she'd gotten, the idea of someone being angry with her was still a powerful force. Every time she asked, it made Shouta sad, because she wasn't asking if he was angry. She was asking if he was going to hurt her for it.
"A little," he told her, because he didn't want to lie to her. It was anger borne of worry, but anger all the same. "But only because you put yourself in danger. It's important that you know when you did something wrong, so that you know not to do it again. I don't want you to get hurt."
Eri considered his words with a soft sniffle. "Because you can't fix me?"
She was so used to thinking of herself as a valuable asset instead of a person who mattered in her own right. "No," he said, smoothing her hair. "I'm worried about you getting hurt because I care about you. You've been through so much, and it would hurt me to see something bad happen to you." Shouta would do his best to spare her every hurt he could.
Eri's face crumpled with a choked sob, and she plowed right into Shouta's chest, clinging to him while she cried harder than it seemed like her little body could handle. She didn't really hug him the way she hugged Hizashi and Midoriya, and his heart ached a little as he held her.
The tears came and went soon enough, sobs fading to tiny sniffles. Shouta gently pushed her back to wipe her face. "Feeling better?" he asked. She nodded. "You still wanna go see the cats?"
Her eyes went wide at the mention of cats, the reason for their outing lost in all the drama. Her distress seemed to evaporate, and she pulled away from Shouta to go slamming into Midoriya's legs, tugging urgently at his shirt. "Can we still see the kitties?"
"Of course we can still go see the kitties!"
Shouta sat back on his heels, watching them. It was the first time Eri had done anything to really upset him. She was such a cautious, serious kid that she rarely stepped out of line, and when she did it was minor, pointless things. Easily forgotten. But this time she almost got hurt, and this time Shouta was upset, and he'd... handled it. He kept his cool. He didn't yell, or berate her. All this time he'd worried what might happen if she ever did something to make him angry, but he was happy with the way he handled it.
He wanted this little girl to grow up feeling loved, not like a burden or an inconvenience. And he did love her, he realized, watching her babble excitedly at Midoriya. The fear he felt in the moment where she was in danger proved it. It burned in his chest, a warm, solid flame, and Shouta realized he'd never been in any danger of becoming his father. Because he loved this child in his care, would do anything to protect her. It was a feeling that man would never have understood.
He stood, holding out his hand to Eri. She took it without hesitation, and Shouta felt something a little like peace.
