Bakugo was losing it.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” he barked into his phone, pacing the living room as his three-year-old son, Haru, sat on the couch, eyes glued to his cartoons. “You’re canceling now?! I’ve got patrol in an hour!” But the babysitter’s excuse didn’t change. With a sharp growl, Bakugo hung up and threw his phone on the counter.

“Great. Just great.” He rubbed his face, mind racing. Kirishima was busy. Mina was out of town. There was no one. He crouched in front of Haru, forcing calm into his tone. “Hey, bud, babysitter bailed. Gotta figure somethin’ out, yeah?”

“‘Kay, Daddy,” Haru said, unbothered, little legs kicking the air.

A sharp knock on the front door made Bakugo’s head snap up. Frowning, he stomped over and yanked it open, ready for a fight. Standing there was the kid from across the hall — early twenties, always quiet, always polite. What does he want?

“What?” Bakugo snapped.

The kid raised a hand. “Uh, sorry, I just… heard you yelling.” He glanced inside. “I’m a kindergarten teacher, it’s my day off. If you need someone to watch him, I can help.”

Bakugo blinked. Kindergarten teacher? He eyed the kid suspiciously. “You serious? You don’t even know us.”

“Yeah, but I know kids,” the young man shrugged. “CPR certified, background check, all that. You can have my number and call any time to check in.” He smiled, nodding toward Haru. “He seems like a good kid.”

Bakugo stared him down, searching for any sign of a lie. He didn’t find one.

Bakugo shook held out his hand, grip firm. “Bakugo.”

“I know,” the boy said softly. “Pro Hero Dynamight.”

“Tch. Don’t start.” Bakugo hesitated, eyes darting to Haru, who was now watching them both. He clicked his tongue. Screw it. “Fine. But if he sneezes funny, I’m callin’ in a squad.”

Bakugo looked back as he left, locking the door behind him. For once, he didn’t feel like the world was on fire.