Heyo fellow readers! First of all, I want to thank all the love and support this fic has been getting! I'm truly grateful! :)
I understand the previous chapter I'd said that we'd be done with this fic by November. Sorry for not being able to keep the promise; I hit a major writing block for MHA fics in general and was too excited with some life developments to even look at writing for a while.
But I'm back now, consistently writing for a few weeks and finally got the inspiration to dive back into MHA! q(≧▽≦q) I've decided the last 3 chapters will be posted all at once. So after this chapter, all y'all have to wait for is the final update.╰(*°▽°*)╯
I hope you all enjoy this story as much as I loved writing it <3
Enjoy reading!
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There was something peculiar with the way Hina said things. Like they weren't quite her words she'd regurgitate from time to time. The case wasn't in every conversation she's had with Katsuki. So it took him time to pinpoint exactly what was that difference he never noticed before.
But there was a pattern he soon started to recognize.
A pattern he once had with himself. He'd say words, phrases really, that weren't his own. He'd repeat them because of how they affected his inner self, how they'd inflict such introspection that made him feel inferior to what he was supposed to be.
His mother's voice. Her words. Her criticism.
Don't get him wrong, he appreciated his old hag. She made him who he was. She cared deeply for him, took care of him. She put him down a few pegs when he was being an obnoxious brat, spoiled by society's image of an ideal hero.
But his mother hadn't started with the harsh truths until after he turned seven. So imagine his surprise—his utter perplexment—when he realized Hina was repeating words that belonged to a reprimanding adult when she was just four years old.
The first time it clicked was when she was extra excited about being called a good girl. How her eyes grew big and her cheeks flushed in joy when her smile showed her blue stained teeth from the cotton candy at the amusement park.
You really think I'm a good girl Tsuki? She asked, her voice small yet high with jubilance. He brushed it off with a ruffle of her hair and distracted her with the plushie prizes at the arcade; but he still took note of her demeanor then.
The second time he realized this phenomenon was when they played at the park. She'd run after him, calling herself a bad girl when she accidentally dropped sand out of the sand pit. Then she'd whispered under her breath with tears pooling at the waterline, Good girls don't cry over small things. Good girls don't cry.
However, the time that really left Katsuki bewildered was when she practiced her judo stances in the in-home gym.
She was wearing the little white judo outfit, a white belt tightly fastened around her waist. She kicked the air and then punched it, exhaling a strong "hah!" with every move.
Hours had passed and she'd been continuing relentlessly. Sweat dripped from her temple, her chin, and her lips were pressed in a line. Her focus was impressive, especially for a child who couldn't even speak most words properly.
But this was starting to worry Katsuki, his patience dulling into a blunt pencil from how her little flushed cheeks were puffed with excessive breath. He watched her from the entrance of the gym, his shoulder leaning against the wall as she continued her stances one by one. He watched until she stumbled on a stance, falling to her knees and nearly on her face.
"Ya gotta slow down," he rushed to her side, holding her by the shoulders to help her balance. "It's been over two hours."
She ignored him, punching the air in another rigid form.
"I havta be strong," she huffed, "Good girls havta be strong and pretty."
The phrasing threw him off. It sounded rehearsed and robotic. As if they weren't her words at all.
"Who told you that?"
She wrinkled her nose and paused her stance from kicking the air once more. Her eyes darted to the floor, not trying to meet Katsuki's.
That only worried him more.
"Well?" he asked.
"Papa said I havta always be a good girl." Again her voice was monotonous, rigid even. "I havta behave, or papa is upset."
Katsuki's heart sank and his anger plumed. Hina, as a child, was given expectations of what is a "good girl"?! As a toddler?
He was grateful that she couldn't feel his emotions as of now; that little innocent Hina will remain oblivious to the inner turmoil. That she won't feel just how his anger was simmering, scalding, right under his skin.
And thanks to the scent patches plastered on his glands--those itchy bastards—she couldn't smell it off him either.
So with the very thinly wired patience he had—and for honoring someone she loved and who was deceased—he swallowed his words, letting them sink into the pit of his stomach. And he crouched down, making himself eye level with the girl.
"You don't havta be anything right now," he whispers, holding her fist, gently uncurling her finger, "You're just a kid, Firework. Ya can have as much fun as ya want."
That was the wrong thing to say. Because as soon as he'd finished, her big blue eyes started to swim.
"My Papa is right," she pouted while her shoulders shook from a cry that was begging to escape. "I need to be a good girl," she insisted.
This restraint of emotion, the way her little four-year-old frame was trying so hard to not give in—to dive into her sorrow—broke Katsuki's heart. It doused the anger and helped steer away from the clearly uncomfortable conversation.
"It's okay to let go, Squirt," he said, pulling her into his chest. "It's okay."
Her body quaked, soon the floodgates were broken. She wailed, louder than the first nightmare he'd helped her wake from as a child. Louder than any cry she's ever let him witness.
With every wail, he squeezed her with more comfort, trying to shield her from all that was hurting her.
But how could protect her from her own thoughts?
The rest of their day was slow. After the training fiasco they had their lunch and then Katsuki took her out to play with Shoto's twin boys in the park, to hopefully cheer her up. But that only acted as a buffer from her sorrows and the energy she still hand in her limbs. She played the role of villain well and it only ended with one of the boys, the one with white hair and gray eyes, was hurt with scabbed knees.
She'd apologized for the rough-housing, and he accepted it with a reluctant nod. However, when the other twin, the half-red and half-black haired with black eyes, decided to exact revenge with Hina getting scabbed knees, both Shoto and Katsuki thought it best to cut the hangout short.
She didn't complain about her pain. Rather, she wore it like a badge of honor.
I was brave wasn't I Tsuki? She said into his hair as he carried her on his shoulder, his hands resting on above her wounded knees.
He didn't know how to approach the subject; if it were his kid he'd have exclaimed just how proud he was for showing strength. But after seeing just how each one of these wins negatively impacted her, how it made her think she wasn't a "good girl" if she didn't put her opponent in the ground, he could only nod silently.
He needed to talk to her about this when she came back. That was if she was willing to. He'll just figure that out when she's her proper age again.
By the time they'd reached home, she was nodding off with her chin digging into the crown of his skull. Expertly, he propped her into his arms before going up the stairs, taking her to her room, and gently laying her down in her bed. The rustle of fabric and possibly the loss of his body heat made her shift in her sleep, drowsily peeking up at him before he could retreat out the door.
"Please stay," she whispers while reaching her arms out to him. "I don't wanna be scared."
And god damn it all, he just couldn't say no to her big blue puppy eyes.
He huffed and ruffled her hair before slipping into the giant comforter and kissing her forehead. "I'm not goin' anywhere ya squirt."
And she rolls up into his side, fast asleep just two seconds after they settled into their shared warmth. Katsuki soon followed into the black abyss of his sleep.
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The weight on top of him was familiar and warm. The moment he registered her, his eyes snapped open.
Hina was an adult again. Stark naked on top of him with her toddler clothes torn beside the both of them.
Being the carnal bastard he was after being deprived of his fated mate (give a grown man a break; his feelings towards toddler hina were purely paternal thank you very much), Katsuki could only blurt the one thing he could coherently think at that moment.
"I could get used to this," he said.
And he's fully aware that this beautiful sculpture of a woman heard him. All because her annoyance brayed through their pushing and pulling link. (Hell, he never thought he'd miss that wretched thing).
She groaned, twisting her neck and tossing her head to the side on his chest.
"Shut up, Tsuki," she grumbled.
"Oh," his smile peeled open, "So you remember."
She scoffed against his sternum before lifting herself off of him to finally meet her eyes with his. Her hair draped around her bare shoulders in waves.
Gods. He really missed her.
She felt his surge of whatever he was feeling. Adoration? Yearning? Passion? Lust? All of the above?
Whatever it was, it made him look too smug for her liking. And in much Katsuki-like fashion she sneered at it while lightly swatting the side of his head.
"Most of it," she said, "Some of it's a bit hazy."
His laugh rumbled, soothing the headache from the quirk's impact on her body. Then his touch gliding up her sides only made her feel more calm.
"Ya were an annoying piece of shit."
She scowled again, "I wasn't and you know it."
"Heh." He sounded so pleased with himself and she knew he was from how his link warmed with satisfaction. Then it sunk into an uncomfortable cold, the iciness creeping into their bond. "Your old man was-"
"I know," she said with a clipped tone. She wanted to nip the bud before he could say anything further. "It's the main reason Nee-san and him would fight. It was a lot like how you and Mitsuki fight." She sighed, seeming to look far away; as if she could see that image of her father right in front of her. "When we got older though he got better."
"That doesn't mean he should've said that shit to ya when you were four," he grumbled while tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear.
"At least he got better," she argued.
"Still, squirt. You were four."
She nodded looking down and not meeting his eyes. She knew he was right. But her father was a complicated man with his own demons and flaws; there was no point in arguing over it anyway. Her father wasn't there to remind her of his expectations any longer.
A part of her was glad she never had to confront them any longer. But the other part, the stronger part, wished she could talk to him again, even if he'd berate her.
Just thinking about her father, about their complicated history and their complex relationship made her thoughts curl into herself. And Katsuki couldn't stand the way the cold was now overbearing their bond, slowly freezing over the depressing numbness he could isolate from the numbness of her sleep.
So he leaned forward, pressing a soft, tender, kiss on her lips.
She sighed into his touch, her hands digging into his skin. She didn't realize just how much she missed this part of him.
"You're mine," his lips brushed against hers as he whispered the promise into her breath.
"I'm yours," she promised.
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Another note: if you are interested in beta reading any of my works (I have a few MHA WIPs, if you are fandom specific) feel free to comment! I'd like another set of eyes to make sure I don't mess up any technicalities <3
Thanks and see you soon!