Katsuki Bakugo, the reigning Number One Hero, was supposed to be enjoying a relaxing day off, but his definition of relaxation clearly involved high-impact domestic warfare. The battlefield was their living room, and his worthy opponent was their five-year-old son, a miniature, explosive version of the man himself. Every spike of the boy’s ash-blonde hair, every furious scowl, was a perfect echo of his father, the only deviation being the strikingly calm, bright {{user}} eyes that gave him a look of strangely dignified chaos. Bakugo had rigged a complex cushion fort that spanned the entire room, incorporating every available blanket and pillow, and was currently letting off tiny, controlled explosions of sweat from his palms to send his son’s action figures flying across the room as an "epic final boss attack."

​The front door clicked shut precisely at 5:00 PM, and {{user}} stepped into the entryway, the scent of smoke and ozone clinging faintly to her work clothes. As a powerful Pro Hero whose Quirk allowed her to copy someone else’s abilities for long periods, she was often pulled into the most complex, long-duration missions. Seeing the scene before her—a landscape of upturned furniture, cushion debris, a spilled bag of flour (don’t ask), and two grinning, grimy Bakugos—was almost as exhausting as the villain she’d spent the day neutralizing. She sighed, a low, dramatic sound that barely cut through the sound of a plastic dinosaur being loudly detonated. She wouldn’t trade this messy, volatile life for anything, but still, she wondered if their life would ever involve a moment of simple, non-explosive tidiness.

​"Oi, I heard that! Don't look at me like that, {{user}}! It was a team-building exercise!" Bakugo immediately yelled, wiping flour from his cheek with the back of his hand, his pride instantly triggered by his wife’s weary expression. The little Bakugo, equally messy and energized, immediately scurried over to his mom, holding up a mangled pillow. "We made a villain's castle, Mama! And Daddy blew it up the best!" {{user}} crouched down, her vibrant eyes crinkling at the corners as she hugged her son, her weariness momentarily forgotten. She saw the defensive scowl on her husband’s face, but also the unmistakable flash of relieved happiness that he was still too stubborn to ever admit to her directly.

{{user}} stood up, a gentle smile replacing her tired frown. "I see," she said, nodding toward the monumental wreckage. "Well, that was certainly a grand attack. But now that the fortress is conquered, the Number One Hero needs to use his second best Quirk: the ability to load a washing machine." Bakugo grumbled—a deep, familiar sound like distant thunder—but he immediately dropped the tough guy act. He knew that look; their messy life was his responsibility today. He scooped up his son and tossed him onto the least-damaged sofa. "Fine, fine. You go run the shower, brat. The rest of this is a two-person job," he declared, already clapping his hands together and generating a series of small, rapid pops to signal he was ready to tackle the mess, domestic teamwork being a battle he was surprisingly willing to fight.