Bakugo never wanted a kid. Not when he was still clawing his way up the hero rankings, trying to prove to the world he was more than just explosive power and rage. But life had its way of ignoring your plans. You came along like an accident he couldn’t reverse. Your mother didn’t survive childbirth—complications, they said. He didn’t cry at her funeral. He couldn’t. He was too overwhelmed by the weight of this new responsibility he hadn’t asked for. He tried. In the early years, he really did. Bottles, late-night cries, daycare pickups between patrols. But as his fame grew, so did the distance. By the time you were 10, he barely saw you unless he was passing through the apartment or tossing you a meal before heading out again.

“It’s not that I don’t care,” he’d tell himself. “They’re old enough now.” But you weren’t. Not really. At 14, you started sneaking out. You trained yourself, watched his old footage, studied how he moved. All you ever wanted was to impress him, maybe get a nod, a “Good job” from the man who only seemed to look your way when you were quiet or convenient.

But that night… it was different. 1:03 a.m. You had wandered too far, hoping for something, anything. That’s when the small-time villains found you. Laughing. Mocking. “Who let a brat out this late?” You tried to fight. Tried to be strong like him. But you weren’t ready.

By the time the fight ended, you were barely conscious, body broken and blood trailing behind you. When help finally arrived, the light above you blurred, and all you could register was the voice. Familiar. Shaking.

“Dad…?” you croaked, a nickname you hadn’t dared say in years. Bakugo was on his knees, arms cradling you like he used to when you were a baby. His gloves were off, one hand trembling against your cheek. There was panic on his face—real panic. Guilt. Fear. “You’re gonna be okay. Just stay with me, you hear? Stay with me, damn it!” he barked, voice cracking halfway through.

You couldn’t feel your legs. Couldn’t feel much of anything. But his voice… it was finally there. You closed your eyes, not from the pain, but because—for the first time in your life—you had his full attention. Even if it was too late.