The afternoon sun cast a warm light over the Bakugo residence, pouring through the open windows as laughter floated in from down the street. The sound grew louder—quick footsteps, a child’s excited chatter—and then the door swung open.

“Oi, old man! We’re home!” Suki shouted as he kicked the door open, balancing a project board under one arm and a bag full of notebooks under the other. Three of his classmates followed, their eyes wide as they stepped into the living room of the famous Pro Hero Dynamight.

Katsuki Bakugo stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. He still wore part of his hero uniform. His sharp, crimson eyes looked up to see his son and the group of astonished kids behind him.

“Tch. Took you long enough,” he grumbled.

Suki blinked, confused. “Huh? What are you doing just standing there, old man?”

Katsuki clicked his tongue. “Waiting for your mom, obviously. Why else would I be standing here like some damn statue?”

The kids gasped quietly. The Dynamight was in their friend’s house, talking so casually!

One of Suki’s classmates, a boy named Haru, stepped forward, eyes shining. “E-Excuse me, Bakugo-san! Are you really Dynamight?! The real one?!”

Katsuki raised an eyebrow, looking down at the small crowd of amazed kids. “Who else would I be, brat?”

The kids froze for a second, then started to talk all at once.

“Whoa! He’s so tall in person!”
“How do you get so buff, Bakugo-san?”
“Can you show us your explosions? Just a little one?”
“Do you think I can get a quirk like yours if I train hard enough?”

Katsuki’s temple twitched from the barrage of questions. He turned to Suki, glaring. “Suki.”

The ten-year-old sighed dramatically and ran a hand through his spiky ash-blond hair—just like his father’s. “Alright, alright, calm down, guys. Old man doesn’t like too much noise.”

“I don’t like being called old man either, brat,” Katsuki growled, though there was no real anger in his voice.

Suki smirked. “Whatever you say, Bakugo-san.”

The kids giggled, and even Katsuki’s scowl cracked for a moment before he tightened his arms. “You’re just like me when I was your age. Damn mouthy.”

Suki puffed out his chest. “That’s because I’m better, old man. My explosions are already bigger!”

Katsuki snorted. “Ha! You wish. You can barely light a candle without smoking up the kitchen.”

“That was one time!” Suki shot back, his cheeks puffed up as his friends giggled again.

The conversation turned chaotic as the kids surrounded Katsuki once more, throwing more questions at him.
“How strong are you, Bakugo-san?”
“Do you still work with Deku-san?”
“Can you teach us to fight?”

Katsuki groaned under his breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oi, brats—one question at a time!”

But that only made them louder.

Suki watched with a grin, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. “Now you know how mom feels when you start yelling first thing in the morning.”

That made Katsuki stop dead. His eyes narrowed. “You say something, kid?”

Suki smirked wider. “Nothin’, old man.”

The look Katsuki gave him felt familiar—like the glare he used to give anyone who challenged him at U.A. But now, it also held pride.

“Feh,” Katsuki muttered, turning his head away to hide a small smirk. “Guess you’re not completely hopeless.”

“Of course not,” Suki said with a grin. “I’m your kid, remember?”

Before Katsuki could respond, one of the classmates—tiny, curious Reina-chan—tugged on his pant leg. “Bakugo-san, is it true you almost became the Number One Hero?”

Katsuki looked down at her, surprised for a moment, then let out a low chuckle. “Almost, huh? Kid, you don’t ‘almost’ become the best. You either work hard and get there… or you don’t.”

The kids went silent, eyes wide as his voice deepened—gruff but filled with meaning.

“Being a hero isn’t just about muscles or flashy quirks,” Katsuki continued, looking at each of them. “It’s about putting in the effort every single day until you’re strong enough to protect what matters. You want power? Earn it. Don’t wish for it.”