Humerus Reunion

The Parents

"Well those boys were sweet"

Distracted Masaru responds with a noncommutative "mhm"

"I've been cheating on you with the milkman"

"Yeah... I hear y- wait... you WHAT?"

Not even attempting to hide her snicker behind a hand Mitsuki gives the now frazzled Masaru a little wink.

"I'm sorry hun, you know I couldn't pass up the opportunity to tease you while you were distracted. Though I suppose that's to be expected with the situation and where we're at."

Letting a long sigh through his nose while pinching between his brows he shakes his head exasperatedly. Having been married so long it wasn't like he wasn't used to his wife's antics and in a lot of ways he knows it's her way of distracting from the stressful situation they were in.

"I love you even though you're impossible"

"You love me BECAUSE I'm impossible dear" she wiggles her eyebrows while cackling at him.

Immediately after they walked through the heavy wooden double doors the temperature automatically dropped 15 degrees, which he could only guess was because they wanted to keep people recovering after surgery on the cooler side for inflammation purposes. Though that really was only his educated guess, he was a fashion designer not a doctor after all.

It also was a lot quieter back here then it had been upfront. There weren't any decorations on the walls just the occasional small window about 5ft up and 1 large floor to ceiling window at the end of the hall, it being around 3 am or so there wasn't much to see other than a street light in the distance and some parked cars.

Checking the square white and blue number plates with different names on them they made it about 3/4ths of the way down the hall before stopping in front of a beige wooden door with number 254 next to it and "Bakugo" written in a slightly messy but legible rounded writing.

Masaru hesitated in front of the slightly askew door, unsure of what he would find on the other side. Being the proud parent of a pro hero didn't make him unfamiliar with getting calls at ungodly hours of the night with Katsuki being in the hospital. This time it was different, however. All the previous times it would be a broken leg, new gash, being sick from working too much overtime. Those were all terrible yes, but nothing irreparable or that a visit from recovery girl couldn't fix in a week or so.

Startled out of this train of thought by a firm but reassuring hand on his shoulder he looks towards his wonderful wife. Some might see how she acts and think her too abrasive and hot-tempered but there was so, so, much more to her than that. In the first stages of their dating, many thought them to be too much of an odd match-up.

While she was loud, commanding, and upfront; Masaru tended to be more even mannered, soft-spoken, and was a follower. Some particularly ignorant individuals would even label their relationship as "toxic" or that their "roles were too reversed". Some went as far as to infer that she was "the man of the relationship" like anything such as gender roles and other illogical nonsense like that mattered. He hasn't lost his temper many times in his life but in those moments he could be hot-headed enough to rival his wife.

They had been each other's pillars of support through many trying times in both their lives. Whenever he found himself unable to face something particularly hard he always knew he wouldn't be alone in it with Mitsuki by his side. No one's love is perfect, but he'd like to think theirs comes pretty close.

Sometimes, though he would never say this directly to Katsuki, he worries his son may miss the chance to find that kind of love. Don't get him wrong; He's beyond proud of his firecracker's accomplishments, it's just with him continuously working to be the best he worries he might forget that there is more to life then hero work. The more melancholy side of him worries even more that Katsuki might not live long enough to find that kind of love either.

He lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding in as well-practiced hands combed gently through the hair on the back of his neck, moving light auburn spikes this way and that. Easing into the familiar and comforting motion Masaru lets his shoulders sag a bit.

"Thank you, honey."

"Anytime my cute hubby, I know when your brain is working overtime. Let's just take one step at a time okay?" Mitsuki says in an uncharacteristically soft voice.

Smiling softly even if she can't see it he replies "Yes, yes, shall we go see out little firecracker?"

Humming in agreement she adds "I wouldn't be surprised if he is still getting some beauty rest."

Leaning into her hand for a moment more he nods and reaches for the metal pull handle of the heavy wooden door. It makes a heavy click followed by a small groan as he pulls it open while stepping back and out of the way. Being sure not to open it entirely, just enough for his wife and him to walk in, Masaru steps in after Mitsuki who had entered as soon as possible.

The scene is familiar but also not. Again, even if he has seen Katuski in the hospital on many occasions he might dare to say this is the worst he has looked yet. The light from the hall doesn't do much to illuminate the room other than showing the minimal color schemes. Lights flash, mostly in reds and greens; The room is silent excluding the steady beep of what looks to be a portable heart monitor. His little firecracker lies in a mess of white blankets, different cords running to and from him.

It makes Katuski almost look straight out of those sci-fi comics Masaru had read when he was younger. He looks beyond exhausted, dark circles brand under the other's eyes standing stark from his almost colorless skin. The only color is that of bruises and scrapes too small to justify bandaging. It fills him with a cold but prevalent rage at whoever hurt his son. His hands clench at his sides making fists that shake with tension that has nowhere to go.

He's shaken out of his anger when he hears a nearly nonexistent sniffle. Burgundy eyes cut to watery red. Mitsuki shakes like a leaf that tremors against the wind, valiantly trying to stay attached to a solid tree. Without another thought, he unclenches his hands and embraces his love in a firm but a loving bear hug. Forgoing her heels for this visit he can without much strain rest his chin on her bowed head, as she shutters and sniffles into the place his neck and shoulder meet. Bringing his arms up under hers he begins to slowly trace circles and shapes without much direction on her upper back.

Slowly but steadily her shaking subsides and he feels soft blond hair tickle slightly at his chin as she adjusts to hug him back properly. They stay like that for quite a while, silently holding each other together like two puzzle pieces as they come to the acceptance that their son is alive, but just barely.

What may have been a couple of minutes or possibly as much as an hour their nonverbal mourning and relief at their son's safety is interrupted by a gentle but firm knock at the minutely open door. Clearing his throat Matsuru utters a "You may come in." though it comes out much shakier then he would have liked. He shuffles his wife into a recliner near Katsuki's bed to make room for another person and give her a moment to gather herself. When he turns to greet the newcomer he is startled to see a very familiar and also unfamiliar face.