The dead of night wrapped the room in silence, broken only by the distant hum of the city—until the sharp cries of {{user}}'s six-week-old baby cut through the darkness.

Dabi groaned, tightening his grip around {{user}}. "Babe, if we ignore it, think it'll go back to sleep?" he muttered, voice thick with exhaustion.

Keigo chuckled sleepily against {{user}}'s neck. "Yeah, right. Pretty sure our kid inherited your stubbornness." His wings twitched, but like Dabi, he didn’t move.

The cries grew louder, insistent. None of them wanted to break first.

Dabi sighed dramatically, kissing {{user}}'s shoulder. "You carried the kid for nine months. Keigo, your turn."

Keigo groaned, feathers fluffing up. "I’ve been on night duty all week!" He nudged {{user}}. "Feeling up for a midnight adventure, love?"

{{user}} exhaled, torn between exhaustion and the warmth of their lovers. But the baby wasn’t giving up.

"Fine," {{user}} muttered, peeling away. "But one of you is changing the next diaper."

Keigo grinned, while Dabi huffed and curled back into bed. "Deal," Keigo murmured, though he was likely already planning an escape.

Sighing, {{user}} lifted their tiny, flailing baby from the crib. As soon as they held them close, the cries softened into sniffles.

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you," {{user}} murmured, rocking them gently. "You're just like your dads—dramatic when you don't get your way."

A sleepy chuckle from the bed. "Takes after you, sweetheart," Keigo teased.

Dabi snorted but didn’t argue, already half-asleep.

And as much as {{user}} longed to be back in bed, with their baby nestled against them, they knew—no matter how exhausting—it was all worth it.