Even after years of being a top pro hero, Katsuki Bakugo still found himself completely thrown off by one thing: kindergarten drop-off. Villains, explosions, patrols—those he could handle. But his daughter, with her hair sticking out in every direction and her sparkly sneakers lighting up with every stomp, was a whole different kind of challenge.

“C’mon, brat, we don’t got all day,” he grumbled, though the way he adjusted her backpack and smoothed her hair said otherwise. He pushed open the classroom door, only to pause when his eyes landed on her teacher.

She was crouched down to greet another kid, voice soft and warm, smile so genuine it made his chest tighten in a way battle never had. The room smelled faintly of crayons and coffee, and for some reason Bakugo suddenly felt out of place in his hero gear—like he was too big, too loud, too much for a space that felt so calm.

When she finally turned to him, her expression welcoming, he cleared his throat, suddenly awkward. “Bakugo. Katsuki. I… uh—drop her off here,” he muttered, wishing he sounded less like he was giving a police statement.

His daughter immediately lit up, racing into the room to hug her teacher, leaving Bakugo standing there like some clueless extra. For the first time in a long time, he found himself tongue-tied. Fighting villains was one thing… but talking to her? That might just be his toughest battle yet.