#this is a beta version of stepdad au aka the first draft

[kewltie]

"Where's no. 3?!" Katsuki demands, storming into the front office of Yavin Elementary.

"G-Ground Zero?" the receptionist squeaks, hand clutching her chest as though she's in a heartattack.

"Midoriya Hikaru," Katsuki snaps, stomping his way toward her. "Where the fuck is he?"

"I—we," she leans back in a little and breathes, "r-requested to talk Midoriya-san about Hikaru, sir," she says, attempting to regather her bearings once more.

"He's busy right now," Katsuki asserts, frowning, "so I'm here in his stead. Tell me what the problem is then."

"We would prefer to talk to a parental unit instead," she insists, steeling herself in the face of Katsuki's thinning impatient.

Katsuki glowers. "I'm his fucking guardian," he bites out. "The brat lives under my roof, shit in my toilet, chow down on my food, and hog my TV, so as far as I'm fucking concern he's as much mine as Deku’s!,” he finishes with a snarl.

"Um," she says, blinking hard.

Katsuki drags his face down his hand and sighs. "Look, you can just over your paperwork and see that I'm listed as one of the emergency contacts for him. Or,” he gives her a pointed glare, “you can talk to my fucking lawyers."

"I—I'll double check right away, sir," she says hurriedly, turning to her computer. Several minutes pass by as Katsuki waits with a growing agitation for her to confirm what he already knows. Thank fucking shit, he'd actually listened to Deku about getting listed on the kids’ emergency cards.

They're a fucking menace, so he should have known something would happen, but he'd given them at least a month, not a week into the new school year, that he would get that call. And for it to be Hikaru of all people and not his twin or eldest sister. That's the fucking shocking part.

"Zero-san?" the receptionist calls out to him. "I apologize for earlier. You're indeed correct, your name is listed as emergency contact for Hikaru," she says, picking up the office phone nearby. "I'll go ahead and call Okaye-sensei to let her know to bring Hikaru up right away."

And that take even longer several minutes, causing him to start pacing a hole in the floor with his rapidly depleting patience. Fucking hell.

He hears the click of heels and the slow familiar gait of Hikaru approaching from a distant before he even saw them. It makes him breathe a sigh of relief.

"Zero-san?" Okaye says, walking into the office with Hikaru's small hunched figure in tow. From the tilt in her voice she's as much as surprise of his appearance here as the receptionist was earlier. "I was honestly expecting Midoriya-san instead."

"He's not here right now, so you're stuck with me," Katsuki says dismissively, his only focus is the brat next to her. "No. 3?" He drops down on to the floor on one knee and opens his arms to Hikaru. "What the fuck happen to you, huh?"

Okaye frowns at his choice of language, but Hikaru quickly lights up at the sound of his voice and breaks away from her side to fall into his arms. "Kacchan," he wails, sniffing into Katsuki's shoulder.

"Hikaru got into a fight with another student from his class," she explains slowly.

Katsuki pauses, pushing him back to look at him over. He eyes Hikaru from head to toe, noticing the bruises running up both arms and the split lip on his kid. "Okay, tell me this at least: did you win and kick that other kid's ass?" he asks gravely, completely serious.

"Zero-san!" Okaye gasps in outrage.

Hikaru nods, gripping the sleeve of Katsuki's shirt in his bruised fist. Katsuki grins and reaches over to wipe away the tear tracks on Hikaru's wet cheeks. "Good, I knew you had it in you, No. 3," he says, pride thickening his voice as ruffles Hikaru's tangled mess of green hair.

"That's extremely improper," she argues. "We don't endorse that kind of behavior here."

"Yea?" he says, shooting a glare over Hikaru's shoulders toward Okaye. "Well, I didn't spent hours teaching my brat to fight back so he can let some snot nose little twat beat up him while you all watched and do absolute shit."

Okaye frowns. "Our academy does not condone bullying. We do our best to stop it before it happen."

"Then what do you call this?" Katsuki demands, carefully gripping Hikaru's shoulder and spins him around to show her the blotches of purple and blue on him. "I know No. 3. He's a good kid, he wouldn't start a fight but he'll finish them." He squeezes Hikaru's shoulder in reassurance. "You're lucky we even let him enrolled at this subpar academy, because you certainly don't know how to fucking take care of my kid properly."

Okaye goes red in the face. "That-that's such a baseless accusation! We take the utmost care of the all children at our academy, Hikaru included." She huffs, crossing her arms across her chest. "And besides Hikaru was the one who threw the first punch."

With a brow raised, Katsuki asks Hikaru, "Did you really?" Hikaru tilts his head back to look at him and nods again as he bites down on his lip. Understanding, right away, Katsuki continues to push, "What did that little shit do to you to make you wanna punch him?"

Hikaru looks down at his feet. He doesn't speak, so Katsuki waits, letting Hikaru decide when he's ready to talk or if he want to talk at all. Finally, Hikaru steps away from him, breaking contact only to turn around to face him properly with a dour expression on his face.

"H-he said I was the son of the devil," Hikaru mumbles, hands clenching by his side. "And that Papa was a bad person. A bad omega who mated with a villain and we, kids, were just as bad." Katsuki narrow his eyes as each devastating words pass Hikaru’s lips. “It made mad. I didn’t like the way he’d talked about Papa, Aki and Yuko-niichan like that,” he quietly admits.

"I hope you got more than a punch in on that kid," Katsuki says with every bit of sincerity that he can carry. "Because I would have pummeled him into the fucking ground and beat some more senses into him."

Okaye makes a noise of protest. "Zero-san, we don't—"

Katsuki's eyes flash to her with a hostile glare. "Shut your mouth, I don't want to hear any more of your bullshit excuses," he snarls. "Right now, I'm talking to my kid, so don't fucking interrupt us."

She reels back, face drawn tight in defense, but she wisely chooses to hold her tongue lest she test the infamous temper of Japan’s number one Pro-Hero Ground Zero that had landed more than one villain in the intensive care.

Katsuki turns his attention back to the more important matter at hand. Hikaru's shoulders are hunched over and his eyes are wary with hesitance. Ever since some rat ass bastard managed to leak the kids' face and names to the media, publicly linking them to the trashcan who donated the other half of their DNA, Izuku had been afraid of this moment. He didn’t want the brats to be exposed to the hostile reality of being the spawn of a villain and what the world thought about that.

Katsuki wasn't worry. Not really, he knows Yuko and Akira. They'll be fine.

It's Hikaru he is more careful about. He's too soft, too sweet, and too hurt easily for that kind of stigma he’ll have to live with when people eventually found out that his piece of trash other parent is a mastermind criminal, who'd menaced society for the last decade; the deathtoll number in hundreds, but those affected by his crimes are thousands.

Adults naturally shitty human being, but children can be way worst with their ignorance and youth. Katsuki would know, he was one himself before UA beat it out of him and made him better for it. "You want me to have a little talk with the twerp?" Katsuki muses, fingers flexing.

Teaching troublesome brats is way beneath his paygrade, but he’ll make an exception for Hikaru and only Hikaru; he can count on Hikaru’s sisters having no problem resolving their own issues. Yuko is a goddamn terror, and Akira can easily wipe the floor with kids who are even older than her.

Hikaru shakes his head. "I don't like fighting," he says quietly. "I just wanted him to stop saying mean things about Papa and my sisters." He looks earnestly at Katsuki as something akin to fear flash across his face. "Do you think Papa will be mad at me?" He wrings his hands anxiously in front of him.

Katsuki thinks of Izuku on that specific day: standing tall, shoulders straight, and with his kids huddled closely around him as he watched his alpha, husband, the father of his children, getting drag away in quirk suppression collar and cuffs. He didn't look away. Not one bit.

It took more than fucking guts to turn his back to his mate of over a decade and reported him to the authority for being a sack of villainous shit. Especially, when there were three children still under his care to think about, but he did it without a single drop of hesitation. He didn’t regret it at all.

It was stone fucking cold.

Even with all the heroes around them, even with Katsuki there, it didn't take much for Katsuki to clearly see how Izuku was easily the strongest and bravest soul there. Omega and quirkless, they were all just a footnote to Izuku's character. They did not define him. Not then, not now, and never will.

Katsuki smirks, leaning down to pinch Hikaru's cheek who puffs up his cheek indignantly. It’s cute as hell. "Disappointed sure, but mad? Nah," he says. "That would make him a fucking hypocrite otherwise. Didn't you know when he was younger Deku used to get into all sort of trouble and fight."

Hikaru's eyes widen. "He did?!"

"Yea," Katsuki's lip twitch in amusement, "you're a shit stirrer like you're good old Papa. And," he reaches for Hikaru's hand, "even if that wasn't the case, I got your back. The world could be against you and I'll still stand by your side."

Hikaru's face crunches up as though he's in pain. "K-Kaaaaaachan," he wails, but this time it's a river of happy tears as he slams his small body right up against Katsuki's legs and wraps his arm around him. "Y-You," hiccups, "mean it?"

"Yea, I wouldn't bullshit you, brat." Rolling his eyes as Hikaru happily sobs into his pant legs, Katsuki comments, "God, you're a crier just like Deku, alright.” But there's no bite to it as he pats Hikaru's back consolingly. He’s not Deku who can easily comfort the brats from nightmares and scary things that bump in the night, but if they need someone to protect them from the brutality of the world? They have Katsuki’s fists to protect them.

He casts an askance glance at Okaye. "I'll be taking him home early for the day," he tells her point blank.

Okaye actually has the audacity to look relief as though his brat was the problem in the first place. "I think that is a wise decision to make, Zero-san."

Katsuki pulls Hikaru back enough to lean down and hitches his hands underneath the boy's armpits. He lifts Hikaru up and hikes him over his hip. "Let's go get you some ice cream, but don't tell your Papa about it," he says.

Hikaru tucks a small smile in Katsuki's chest.

Just as they about to depart and Okaye is finally free of them at last, probably wishing she took a leave of absent today, they hear loud footsteps hitting the floor beyond the walls of the office. It's so loud that even Hikaru raises his head from Katsuki's chest in interest.

"Akira, you can't go in there!" someone loudly protest from outside. "Wait until Okaye-sensei is done talking and she'll call you in."

"You’ve been saying that for the last ten minutes. I'm not waiting around anymore!" a familiar voice argues back. "Let me see my brother!"

The back door to the front office is flung open to reveal a young girl who looks like an exact copy of Hikaru, except for the green insolent eyes and razor sharp tongue, and a taller tired adult trailing behind her.

Katsuki lets out a long exhale as Akira strolls in unprompted. Here is the real troublemaker. His small tyrant.

"Hikaru!" she says as soon her eyes zeroing in her brother right away, not even acknowledging Katsuki who has him in his arms. "I was so worried about you!"

"Aki," Hikaru returns excitedly back.

"Are you alright?" she coos, walking up to them. "Let me have a good look at you."

Katsuki gently lets Hikaru down and places him right in front of Akira. She immediately jumps on him as soon as his feet hit the floor, carefully looking over every cut and bruise she found on her brother, while happily ignoring Katsuki like he's just a rock on the road. He’s not even surprise at her insolent. Yuko is cooly polite, while Akira is so foul mouth and crass that sometimes he has a hard time thinking how Izuku managed to produce her, but her green eyes and hair are all Izuku’s.

Then, he remembers why she’s exactly like this.

"I'm sorry, Okaye-sensei," the woman who came with Akira says. "I tried to stop her but she was, very," she makes a pained face, "insistent."

Okaye heaves a sigh in acknowledgement. "Akira," she says warily the latest troublemaker. "Please refrain from breaking the school's property and causing a disturbance on the school grounds."

"Y'all rich as hell, so you'll be fine," she answers dismissively, not even looking back at her. Or at Katsuki either.

Here’s the thing: Midoriya Akira is self-proclaimed Ground Zero’s number one fan. She’d watched all his videos, tune into all his battles, and had all his merch. She absolutely adores him and tries her best to imitate her idol Ground Zero, but it’s a different story when Zero’s mask is removed and Katsuki is the one standing in front of her.

Okaye cuts to Katsuki with a drained expression on her face. "This child," she mumbles under her breath in pure annoyance and exhaustion, giving over to Katsuki to handle her now.

Katsuki grabs a hold of Hikaru's arm and pulls him back from Akira's attentive care. It's enough to finally catch her attention as her green eyes narrow and flashes toward him with open derision. He drags Hikaru close him as a hostage and prepares for the bloody battle ahead.

"What are you doing here, No. 2?" Katsuki demands with suspicion. "You should be in class."

"What the hell are you doing here, Kacchan? You should be out patrolling," Akira retorts back, and when he just glares at her, she scoffs before raising her bruised knuckles proudly.

"She kick started a brawl in the middle of the classroom and got the entire class involve,” the woman behind Akira answers for her, entirely too weary and vexed—which is the norm when dealing with Midoriya Akira. She’s abrasive and prickly as porcupine, but only those that are close to her does she soften up. “Several students had to be sent to the infirmary afterward.”

"I had to prove my dominance at the top of the pack," Akira announces proudly, who has none of Izuku's sweet temperament but all of his reckless diehard attitude that had sent more than one alpha packing with their tail behind their back. "Now, they won't bother Hikaru anymore."

Feeling a headache coming on, Katsuki glares at Akira. "What the hell, No. 2?" he demands. "Deku is going to flip his shit when not just one of his fucking brats got into a fight but two? And you even pick a fight with your entire class for that matter?!"

Akira pouts. “But you told me that if I want to protect my family I have to be strong, stronger than everyone else so that nobody can hurt them anymore,” she says sulkily. “I had to assert my power somehow!”

“I didn’t mean that you should start a one man war against everyone!” Katsuki snaps, exasperated. Akira got all that bravado, but none of that keen intellect of her older sister, Yuko.

Akira, whose bulldogged nature is more akin to Katsuki because blood be damned, that occasionally he forget whose daughter she actually is, but it's time like this when her eyes start to water and her lips wobble precariously, hands trembling at her side as the dam break, that he’s reminded how like Izuku she truly is.

"I-I didn't do anything wrong," she insists doggedly with eyes leaking a goddamn waterfall because she inherit Izuku's fucking cursed tears.

"Ah, fuck," Katsuki says warily. "Don't cry, No. 2."

"I'm not crying!" she yells back as another tear track rolls down her cheek.

Unlike Hikaru who openly cried like he's vomiting his emotions all over the place until he's emptied out, Akira is much more tightly wound up as though she's a densely packed ordnance that can go off at any moment and when she explode, everything give away to anger and hurt.

Katsuki sighs, dragging his hand down his face. He's trained professional who not only kick criminals' ass on regular basis but deal with plenty of crises. Hell, he'd even saved the country a few times in the past years or so but this—? Hardest fucking thing ever. Nothing can prepare him for the trial and tribulations of parenthood.

He doesn't know how Izuku does this on a regular basis especially when he's wrangling all these kids alone without any help from his dirtbag ex-husband and still managed to pull it all off like a true champion. A damn boss. Izuku can put Katsuki and his colleagues to fucking shame. Because this feel like disaster management 101 and he's failing spectacularly at it with the way the brats' teachers are looking at him like he's a giant disappointment because he's the asshole who made his kid cry in public.

"Akira," Hikaru says worriedly, stepping forward.

The line of his shoulders dips as his head bends low and Katsuki knows the sign well enough. They're twin. Creepily in sync and deeply emphatic of each other's pain. One crying kid is enough, but two? At the same time too? That’s fucking insane. He’ll leave that to Izuku.

Katsuki moves quickly to grab Hikaru by the shoulder and sets him in place. “Stay,” he orders, and without looking back, walks up to a sulking teary eyes Akira who looks like she would bite his head off if he get any closer.

"What you want," she snaps, sniffling hard.

Wordlessly, he drops down to her level. It's an even playing field here. Katsuki may know shit about kids overall but he knows his brats and Akira hates being patronize. He would know because she's like him in a lot of ways.

He extends a hand toward her; a peace offering.

She glares at the gesture like she can burn a whole in it. She doesn't move. Doesn't even respond to it, but he waits anyway. Katsuki doesn't have a lot of patience for anyone else but for Izuku and the brats, he'd learned it the hard way. In a series of trail and errors.

A minute pass by. Then two. Three. Four. Five, and then Akira's wall of defiance and anger softens just slightly enough for her to gingerly take his hand and he pulls her right into his chest, arms wrapping around her in forceful hug that leaves her no room to change her mind.

“Sorry,” he murmurs against her ear. “I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you. That was mean of me.”

She snorts. “I don’t care,” she tells him, dropping her head on to his shoulder as her hand tightens around the front of his shirt that says otherwise. “It was your ugly face that made me cried anyway.”

He doesn’t laugh, because he doesn’t want her to punch him, but it’s a near thing. Kids, they’re going to be the death of him. Thrice over.