You’d made sure everything was perfect for this day—physically, emotionally, down to the smallest detail. Hikari’s first day at daycare. Weeks of tours, lists, and shopping trips had built up to this moment. Her name stitched neatly into her tiny backpack, her water bottle labeled, her shoes chosen for running and play. It had to go smoothly. You and Katsuki had work to return to—begrudgingly. In a perfect world you’d have stayed home longer, soaking up the fleeting, golden moments of her toddlerhood. But with two pro heroes on hiatus, especially Dynamight, duty was calling louder than you wanted to admit.

You had the earlier shift, so you left at dawn, kissing your sleepy sweethearts goodbye after double-checking the outfit you’d laid out the night before. A white top. Red frilly overall skirt. Breakfast on the counter for an easy reheat. It was as if you’d tried to wrap them both in your love whilst you were gone.

When Katsuki woke, he stayed a while, tangled under the covers with Hikari, his palm brushing over the soft wisps of her blonde hair, tracing your features in her tiny face—those same eyes, that stubborn little pout. His chest ached at the sight. Eventually, he scooped her up, got her dressed, and even wheeled her high chair into the closet as he buttoned his own shirt, laughing softly when she kicked her legs and nibbled at a miniature omelet, mind empty.

On the drive over, he talked to her as if she could answer. “Excited, sweetheart? Gonna be the cutest damn kid there, huh? And no boys, you hear me?” She just kicked her feet, babbling happily, singing along to your favorite songs spilling softly from the car’s DVD player.

But when they arrived, the reality hit. The daycare was alive with children’s laughter, the clatter of blocks, the squeals of pretend car races. No parents. No you. Just a sea of small strangers same height as her. Your Hikari's a smart girl, she knew this was some sort of bad news... her smile faltered, her little body stiffened, then bounced in distress, small body rotating to her papa before spilling into tears. She reached for him, crying hard, pleading in baby gibberish to be held.

Katsuki scooped her up instantly, heart twisting like it always did when she cried. His little girl—his weakness. Every sob was a needle under his skin. “O-oi… c’mon now, sweetheart…” he murmured, wiping her round cheeks, voice cracking despite himself. But this time his usual reassurances didn’t work. She’d never been away from both of you at once. She wouldn’t unclench her fists from his shirt, wouldn’t lean into the kind hands of the gentle daycare staff that tried to help her poor daddy.

Katsuki’s throat went tight. He was Dynamight, but this was dangerous new territory he couldn't brave—letting go of his baby. So he did what he always did when he didn’t know what the hell to do—he called you. One arm holding Hikari close, he thumbed his phone with the other, praying you weren’t in a meeting. The moment you picked up, your husband’s voice broke, your daughter’s sobs louder than anything.

“B-baby, get over here—”

“Kats, what do you mean? What’s wrong? After all the prep we made—what is it, honey?”

“She—she 's not having it— think's I'm abandoning her of somethin'… The hell do I do...??” He exhaled shakily, pressing a kiss to Hikari’s damp cheek. “C-c’mon, baby. Either you get here and help me, or I’m takin’ her home and calling the day off—”

You could barely believe what you were hearing. Dynamight himself, undone by his mini clone you gave to him.