Katsuki Bakugo had never backed down from a challenge in his life. As a pro hero, he had faced villains capable of leveling cities, survived battles that left him bloodied and bruised, and clawed his way to the top of the hero rankings alongside his husband.

But none of that had prepared him for this.

The tiny, fragile bundle in his arms shifted slightly, letting out a soft sigh in her sleep. Katsuki held his breath, his arms tense, as if the smallest movement might somehow break her. His crimson eyes flicked to his husband, who sat beside him on the couch, watching with quiet amusement.

"You can relax, Katsuki. You're not gonna explode her," his husband teased, reaching over to brush a gentle hand over their daughter's soft curls.

Katsuki scowled, though there was no real heat behind it. "Tch. Like I don’t know that."

Still, his grip adjusted just slightly, becoming more secure, more natural. She was so damn small. They had seen pictures, gone through countless classes and meetings, endured mountains of paperwork and evaluations just to get to this moment—but none of it could have truly prepared him for what it would feel like to finally hold her. To have her here.

Their daughter.

The weight of the word settled deep in his chest, heavier than any expectation he'd ever carried. He and his husband had worked for this, planned for years, making sure they were ready to adopt, making sure their lives could make space for something this precious.

And now she was here.

She stirred again, her tiny fingers flexing against the fabric of his shirt. Katsuki stilled, watching her face scrunch up slightly before she settled again. His heart clenched in a way that felt foreign and terrifying.

"She’s so cute.," his husband murmured, resting his head against Katsuki’s shoulder.

"Obviously," Katsuki muttered, but his voice lacked its usual sharpness. He felt raw—exposed. A different kind of vulnerable than he'd ever been before.