Chapter 10: The Morning After
The summer air hung thick and sweet, heavy with the scent of blooming jasmine from the fence line and the tang of charcoal from the grill. Cicadas thrummed a relentless soundtrack from the old oak tree that shaded half the backyard. The pool, a rectangle of shimmering turquoise, was the day’s beating heart.
Katsuki surfaced with a gasp, slicking his spiky blonde hair back from his forehead. “Your serve was out, you cheater!”
“Your face is out,” Hitoshi retorted, treading water near the net they’d strung across the pool’s width. His purple eyes were narrowed in amusement. “It was on the line.”
“The line is out!”
“Tell that to the judge. Oh wait, there isn’t one. ‘Cause it’s a stupid pool volleyball game with no stakes.”
“The stake is your dignity, which I’m about to spike into the deep end!”
From his post at the stainless-steel grill, Shouta watched them, a bottle of beer dangling from his fingers. He wore simple black swim briefs, his lean torso pale against the dark fabric. Sweat beaded on his shoulders. The air above the grill wavered with heat. “If you two crack the siding with that ball again, you’re paying for it,” he called, his voice a low, tired rumble that nonetheless carried. He flipped a burger with a practiced flick of his wrist.
“They’re just blowing off steam, babe,” Hizashi’s voice, cheerful and warm, floated from the shallow end.
He stood waist-deep, the water lapping at the curve of his hips. His string bikini was a bright sunflower yellow, the triangles of the top barely containing the generous swell of his 36DD breasts, the strings tied delicately at his neck and back. His long blonde hair, usually loose, was piled in a messy, damp bun. On his hip, perched comfortably, was Izuku.
Izuku was a vision of summery delight. His swimsuit was a frilly, skirted one-piece in a soft peach color, little ruffles bouncing at his thighs. His shock of white curls had been meticulously parted and twisted into two small, high pigtails, each fastened with a pink bow. His wine-red eyes were wide with delight, taking in the splashing, the shouts, the dazzling reflection of sun on water. One of his small hands was fisted in the strap of Hizashi’s bikini top, the other patting the surface of the water, creating tiny splashes.
“See, Izu-baby? Kacchan and ‘Toshi are being silly,” Hizashi cooed, bouncing him gently. The movement made Izuku giggle, a soft, breathy sound. “Mama’s got you. Nice and cool.”
“Ma-ma,” Izuku babbled, leaning his head against Hizashi’s shoulder, content.
Katsuki, paddling backwards for Hitoshi’s serve, caught the sight. His competitive scowl softened, just for a second. Izuku looked happy. Secure. The pink bows were ridiculous, but they suited him. He looked… cute. Katsuki would eat his own shoe before saying that out loud.
Hitoshi took advantage of the distraction. He served the ball—a mean, spinning shot that skimmed the net.
“Hey!” Katsuki lunged, his body slicing through the water. He got a palm on it, sending it rocketing back over. The rally was on.
They played with a fierce, sibling-driven intensity, their shouts and insults echoing off the house. The ball thwacked against wet palms, arced through the humid air, plunged into the water with great splashes. Shouta watched them between tending to the burgers and skewers of vegetables, a faint, almost invisible smile touching his lips. This was the noise of his life. The good noise.
After a particularly brutal spike from Katsuki that left Hitoshi sputtering, Hizashi called out. “Katsuki, honey, come take him for a minute? My arms need a break.”
Katsuki swam over immediately, the game forgotten. He hoisted himself out of the pool in one smooth motion, water streaming from his toned body. He padded over the hot concrete to the shallow end, his feet leaving dark, fading prints.
“Gimme the squirt.”
Hizashi transferred Izuku into Katsuki’s waiting arms. Izuku went willingly, making a small, happy noise as he was settled against Katsuki’s cooler, wet skin. His tiny hands immediately pressed against Katsuki’s chest.
“He’s probably getting hungry,” Hizashi said, stretching his arms overhead with a sigh. The sunlight glistened on the water droplets clinging to his skin. “But he’s been such a good boy, just watching.”
“I got him,” Katsuki said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. He walked a few steps to the submerged built-in bench in the shallow end and sat, the water coming up to his chest. Izuku sat on his lap, facing the pool, his back against Katsuki’s torso. Katsuki’s arms encircled him loosely, keeping him steady.
“Watch Hitoshi,” Katsuki murmured into his ear. “He’s gonna try to do something cool and fail.”
As if on cue, Hitoshi attempted a backflip off the side of the pool. He over-rotated and landed with a spectacular, messy slap that sent a wave over them.
Izuku shrieked with laughter, clapping his hands. Katsuki sputtered, wiping water from his eyes. “You idiot! You got him all wet!”
“He’s in a pool, genius!” Hitoshi retorted, surfacing and pushing his dark hair back. “It’s kind of the point!”
Izuku was still giggling, squirming in Katsuki’s lap. “Toshi! Splash!”
“See?” Hitoshi grinned, swimming closer. He flicked a little more water at them. “The baby approves of my artistic interpretation.”
Shouta announced the food was ready. The twins hauled themselves out, Katsuki with Izuku still in his arms. They toweled off roughly and descended on the picnic table under the oak tree, which was already set with plates, condiments, and a pitcher of iced tea. Hizashi wrapped a dry, fluffy towel around Izuku, rubbing him gently before settling him in a padded booster seat secured to one of the benches, next to Shouta.
The meal was a messy, perfect summer feast. Burgers with cheese melting over the sides, grilled vegetables smoky and crisp, potato salad Hizashi had made that morning. Katsuki and Hitoshi ate with the voracious speed of young men who’d been swimming hard. Shouta ate methodically, his eyes moving over his family, observing. Hizashi nibbled at a burger, but his attention was mostly on Izuku.
Izuku had a small portion of mashed avocado and soft, shredded chicken on his plastic plate. He was attempting to feed himself with a chunky toddler spoon, but more was ending up on his chin, the towel tucked around his neck, and in his hair than in his mouth.
“Mmm… gud,” Izuku said, smearing avocado on his tray.
“Good, baby,” Hizashi smiled, reaching over to wipe his cheek with a napkin. “You’re doing so well.”
“He’s a menace,” Katsuki said, but he was watching Izuku’s clumsy efforts with a focused intensity. When Izuku dropped his spoon for the third time, Katsuki picked it up, wiped it on his own towel, and held a scoop of avocado to Izuku’s lips. “Open. C’mon.”
Izuku obediently opened his mouth, accepting the bite. He chewed slowly, kicking his feet under the table.
“You’re gonna be stuck doing that forever if you start,” Hitoshi commented, stealing a pickle from Katsuki’s plate.
“Shut up.”
After eating, a languid stillness settled over them. The sun was past its peak, casting longer, deeper shadows. Shouta leaned back in his chair, eyes closed, a picture of exhausted contentment. Hitoshi scrolled through his phone, probably checking sound mixes. Katsuki helped Hizashi clear the plates.
Izuku, full and warm, began to fuss in his seat. It was a low, grizzling sound, his face pressing into the padded back of the booster. He squirmed, his hands clenching and unclenching.
“Someone’s getting sleepy and needs a change,” Hizashi observed, his voice soft. He untied the towel from around Izuku’s neck. “And probably a little mama-time to settle him.”
“I’ll do it,” Katsuki said, already lifting Izuku out of the seat. The swimsuit was damp. “I’m already wet. You relax.”
He carried Izuku into the house, through the sliding glass door that led to the living room. The air conditioning was a shock after the humid outdoors, raising goosebumps on their skin. In the downstairs bathroom, Katsuki went through the routine. He laid Izuku on the changing mat on the counter, unsnapped the soggy swimsuit, and peeled it away. The diaper underneath was wet. He cleaned him with wipes, the scent of coconut and aloe filling the small room, applied cream, and fastened a fresh, dry diaper. He didn’t put the swimsuit back on. Instead, he grabbed a clean, soft onesie from the stack in the cabinet—light blue with clouds on it.
“Arms up,” he instructed.
Izuku, passive and pliant in his post-meal drowsiness, lifted his arms. Katsuki slipped the onesie on, snapping it between his legs. He picked Izuku up, holding him against his shoulder. Izuku’s head lolled, his breath warm against Katsuki’s neck.
Back outside, the mood had shifted further into afternoon torpor. Hitoshi was now in the hammock strung between two trees, one arm dangling over the side. Shouta was stacking the cooler. Hizashi had settled into a wide, cushioned lounge chair in a shaded corner of the patio. He had untied his bikini top, letting it hang loose around his neck, and had a light cotton blanket draped over his lap and shoulders for modesty, though the curve of his breast was visible.
He held out his arms as Katsuki approached. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
Katsuki transferred Izuku once more. Hizashi adjusted the blanket, creating a private, tented space, and guided Izuku to his chest. Izuku latched on with the practiced ease of a thousand previous feedings, his body going utterly limp. Hizashi leaned his head back against the chair, his eyes closing, one hand coming up to cradle Izuku’s head beneath the blanket. A deep, profound quiet enveloped them.
Katsuki stood for a moment, watching the gentle, rhythmic motion under the blanket, the utter peace on both their faces. He then turned and dove back into the pool, the water shockingly cold now, needing to move.
He swam laps, pushing himself until his muscles burned, trying to outpace the complicated swirl of feelings in his chest. The sleepover with his friends had been a success, but it had left a strange residue. Seeing Chris hold Izuku, hearing Noah’s comment about him being a dad… it had echoed in his head for days. It was one thing to live this reality. It was another to have it reflected back at you through the eyes of the outside world, even kindly.
He finished a lap and hung onto the edge, catching his breath. He looked over at the lounge chair. Only the gentle rise and fall of Hizashi’s breathing, and the tiny, contented sounds Izuku made, indicated what was happening. It was the most normal thing in the world here. The core of their world.
Shouta appeared at the edge of the pool, looking down at him. “You’re thinking too loud. You’ll scare the birds.”
“What birds?” Katsuki grunted.
“Exactly.” Shouta sat on the edge, dipping his feet in the water. He was silent for a long moment, watching Hizashi and Izuku. “Your friends,” he said finally, his voice so low Katsuki almost didn’t hear it over the filter’s hum. “They didn’t ask any difficult questions.”
It wasn’t really a question. Shouta had debriefed with him the morning after, a quiet conversation over coffee while Izuku played on the floor.
“No,” Katsuki said, resting his chin on his arms on the concrete. “Chris just… liked him. Thought he was a cute baby. That was it.”
“Good.” Shouta’s gaze was steady. “It’s not a secret. It’s just private. There’s a difference. We’re not hiding something shameful. We’re protecting something precious.”
Katsuki nodded, water dripping from his hair. He knew that. He’d always known that. But hearing his father, the most logical person he knew, articulate it so plainly, settled something further inside him.
“He’s happy,” Katsuki said, the words coming out rough.
“He is,” Shouta agreed. “We all are, in our way. Even you, when you’re not being a territorial prick to your brother.”
“He started it.”
“He always does.”
They sat in companionable silence. In the lounge chair, Hizashi shifted, the blanket falling a little to the side. Izuku had finished. He was now sleeping peacefully, his cheek smushed against Hizashi’s bare breast, a trace of milk at the corner of his slack mouth. Hizashi’s eyes were open now, gazing down at him with such unguarded tenderness it almost hurt to look at. He carefully re-tied his bikini top, then adjusted the blanket around Izuku, holding him close.
The sun dipped lower, painting the sky in streaks of orange and purple. Fireflies began to blink their tentative lights near the fence. Hitoshi snored softly in the hammock.
It was a snapshot, Katsuki thought. A perfect, fragile, summer evening. His father’s feet in the water, his brother asleep in a cocoon of string, his mama nursing his baby brother who would never be anything but a baby. And him, there, in the middle of it all, the water holding him up. Not on the outside looking in. Not a guardian of a secret. Just a part of the whole.
He pushed off from the wall and floated on his back, staring up at the darkening sky. The water was silent, holding his weight. From the chair, he heard Hizashi begin to hum, a old, familiar lullaby. The sound wrapped around him, as warm and constant as the summer night.