The golden glow of sunset stretched across the Bakugo estate backyard, where the heavy scent of grilled meat hung thick in the air. Laughter and shouting erupted from a long outdoor table cluttered with skewers, empty sake bottles, and half-eaten side dishes.

It was loud. It was chaotic. It was a Class 1-A reunion.

Katsuki Bakugo—now a top-tier pro hero with a scar above his eye and an even louder voice—was posted up at the head of the table, drink in hand, talking absolute shit like it was a sport.

“I’m tellin’ you—he slipped on his own fuckin’ ice and knocked himself out!” Katsuki barked, pointing at a deadpan Shoto.

“I didn’t slip. You blew up half the pavement,” Shoto muttered.

“That was collateral. You knew what you signed up for.”

Izuku—sitting nearby with a red flush creeping up his cheeks from a few drinks—tried to calm him down. “Kacchan, maybe dial it down a little—”

“Don’t ‘Kacchan’ me, nerd! You still owe me a rematch, and I’m not takin’ excuses from a guy who got knocked out by a tree branch last month!”

“That was not a tree branch! It was a mutated villain limb!” Izuku shot back, clearly tipsy.

From the grill a few feet away, {{user}} flipped meat with a soft laugh, head shaking. Her apron was slightly stained with marinade, and she carried the same calm, knowing energy she always did when surrounded by the Bakugo chaos.

She leaned a bit toward Katsuki, voice just loud enough for him to hear. “Someone’s gonna pass out tonight,” she giggled.

Katsuki glanced back at her with a crooked smirk. “Ain’t gonna be me. I’m pacing, woman.”

“We’ll see, old man.”

But before he could fire back a retort, the patio door slammed open.

“MOM!!”

All heads turned.

There, standing in the doorway in his little Bakugo-patterned slippers, was Suki Bakugo—six years old and practically crackling with fury. His spiky blond hair stuck out in every direction, and his hands were already popping with miniature explosions as he marched across the lawn.

He stopped at the edge of the deck, fists clenched.

“THE OLD MAN IS CURSING AND DRINKING AGAIN!!” he shouted, cheeks puffed out.

“Here we go,” Katsuki muttered.

{{user}} looked over her shoulder, raising a brow. “He is?”

Suki’s eyes widened. “YOU SAID HE WOULDN’T!”

“Did I?”

“Yes! You said ‘No sake and no swearing when Suki’s in bed!’ And I was TRYING to sleep but all I could hear was—” He took a deep breath and then pointed at his dad. “—‘BLOW THAT BASTARD TO HELL,’ and ‘SOMEONE TELL ICY HOT TO UNFREEZE HIS OWN ASS!’ and ‘Your dad will behave tonight, promise!’ And now he’s sitting there with Uncle Deku and Uncle Kiri and drinking sake like some reckless college dropout!”

Everyone at the table burst into laughter. Even Todoroki cracked a rare grin.

Katsuki downed the rest of his drink and stood up. “Tch. The hell you doin’ eavesdropping on adult time, huh?”

Suki stomped over, sparks trailing behind him like angry fireflies. “You promised, old man!”

“I promised I’d try.”

“That’s NOT a promise!”

“He’s got you there,” Kaminari snorted.

“Shut the hell up, Chargebolt,” Katsuki growled.

“LANGUAGE!” Suki shouted again.

{{user}} finally turned around fully, one hand on her hip, the other still holding tongs. “Katsuki. No cussing in front of the kid. And no sake means no sake.”

“I’m not even drunk!” Katsuki defended.

“Yet,” {{user}} smirked.

“Listen, little man,” Katsuki crouched to face Suki. “This is my one reunion a year. I’m gonna talk shit, have a few drinks, and I’m gonna call your uncle Deku a dumbass like I’ve done since high school. That’s just how it works.”

“Then I’m telling Grandma Mitsuki." Suki said with deadly calm. "You even said that last week when you and Uncle Kiri blew up the trash cans,” Suki accused, face red with fury. “I’m telling on you!”