rain on birthdays... | m. izuku
cw: this one's a lil sad sorry guys, absent fathers and the trauma it brings (izu's dad to be specific), father! izuku. saw a video that hit a little too close to home so..haha
tiny feet tucked into bright red rubber boots ran haphazardly through various puddles. the boy, freshly eight, hopped up and down in each small body of water, kicking up water onto his overalls until they were soaked and dirtied with mud. bright emerald eyes peered upward through thick lashes, giggling as the rain chilled his rosy cheeks and glued his curly fringe to his forehead. it always seemed to rain on izuku's birthday like clockwork, but it was okay, he loved the rain. with rain came puddles and mud, frogs and worms, rainbows after it was all said and done. the boy stopped his splashing at the sound of his mother's sweet call from the porch, she stood with a phone raise in the air. it was his birthday after all, he was due for a very special phone call. his heart hammered in his chest, feet barely letting the rest of him catch up as he started a sprint towards the woman that birthed him. she ushered him into the house, glad to have him in now that it seemed the storm was starting to pick up.
the inside of the house was warm and welcoming, the smell of sweet cake billowed through the house, balloons blown up by inko scattered the floor, superhero decorations seemed to wallpaper the walls. through all the excitement and bright colors, his eyes were glued to the screen of his mother's cell. a tiny box with an illuminated screen greeted him, his tiny fingers gripped the device almost too tightly as he tried not to let it slip from his wet hands.
"hi papa!" he all but screamed into the phone as he shoved it to his ear, shooing his mother away when she tried to hover. there was a look on her face that he was still too young to place, but she only nodded and left him be. he watched the woman ease into the kitchen, far enough for his conversation to be private, but still close enough for her to see him from where she would be icing his cake.
"happy birthday, sport," his dad hummed into the phone, voice tired and bored, "how's it feel to be six?"
the boy's head cocked to the side at the question before laughing, "i'm eight. almost double digits soon, just two more years. oh and i'm taller too, and mom says she thinks i'm going to out grow her because none of my clothes fit and-"
the man let izuku babble, he always did. the child was the one who led these conversations but he didn't seem to mind. there was a whistle sometimes when he spoke, air flowing straight through the front tooth he lost three days ago. he made sure to update his father on that too. he talked for maybe an hour, his dad humming along when he could. izu was sat cutely on the step by the door where shoes were meant to be taken off, admiring the etchings on the wall that showed how many inches he had grown and he wondered if his dad was a tall man. he couldn't remember. sometimes at night he’d close his eyes really tight and try to paint the man’s picture in his head, but that was a difficult task too since there were no longer pictures of him on the walls. he wondered if maybe his mom and dad were a little mad at each other. he wished they’d make up already.
"papa?"
"yeah, kid?"
"are you still coming to visit? it's just me and mama today...i tried to ask my friend kacchan to come but, his mom said he has the flu." there was a pout on izuku's lips, his tiny fingers crossing in hope in his lap. he had on his lucky all might socks, his lucky penny in his pocket, and he had wished on eyelashes, wishing wells, and a shooting star. this had to be the day, right?
"not this time, i'm tied up right now. let's try for next year, okay?"
maybe he should have blown out his candles sooner. one more wish might have helped.
"but you said that last year...," izuku tried not to let it bum him out and instead offered another solution, "maybe christmas then? it's only july right now."
"we'll see. no need thinking too far in the future," his dad gave an awkward cough, "i have to go. hope you like the present i sent ya."
......
"mama..?" your daughter pulled on the hem of your shirt, making you glance down from where you were icing your husband's cake. she took after the man a lot, pretty green curls, light scatter of freckles, inquisitive as ever.
"yes, my love."
her finger pointed towards the glass sliding door that led to the back porch where izuku currently sat, "why's daddy out in the storm?"
you had to catch yourself from letting your face drop, you didn't think she was quite old enough for that conversation. how do you explain to your five year old that her father hated his birthdays? it was the one day of the year where it seemed to physically hurt him to smile big enough for his dimples to show.
“maybe he’s a little lonely, we’ve been spending so much time together decorating. i think he misses you,” you boop the tip of her nose with icing, smiling as the kitchen filled with a chorus of her giggles.
“i’ll go put on rain clothes, mama!” she stated plainly, starting a shaky run for the front of the house where her rain gear was.
“do you want mommy’s help?!” you called after her.
“i can do it! i’m five and a half.”
you shook your head but chose not to fight her on it, instead you shared a look at the older woman before you that held your other toddler on her knee. inko was as beautiful as ever, her long jade hair pulled back with a clip, silvery strands spilling out here and there.
“they grow up so fast,” she teased, but there was a look on her face that she was hiding well. regret.
“yes, they do.” not too long after that came the patter of your daughter’s feet in her bright pink and purple, Pinky themed rain boots and her Froppy themed raincoat and umbrella. her obsession with heroes was already peaking, even if most of them were her aunts and uncles.
her hands yanked at the sliding door, pulling it with all her might before turning around and slamming it closed. izuku looked up from where he was thumbing at the watch around his wrist. it was old and didn’t tick anymore, a gift from his father from when he had turn eight. an adult calculator watch. it was the last thing he had ever received besides post cards and sometimes text messages that lacked feeling, but even those stopped when he hit seventeen. aika made her way over, fiddling with her umbrella until it shot open, using both her hands to hold it over her father’s head. he was wearing a raincoat of his own, but he was still pretty soaked, his feet hanging through the bars of the porch railing. the wood was still a bit unfinished from where he had been building from scratch, but it was still impressive.
“angel, why’re you out here?” he asked gently, tugging the umbrella from her hands when she sat down, holding it over her head instead.
“you looked sad.”
he gave a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, patting the top of her head, “daddy’s fine. you don’t have to worry about me.”
aika didn’t seem to buy it, crawling into his lap and hugging around his middle. he supposed even kids could recognize sniffles and red rimmed eyes. he held her close, grateful for her tiny presence. why wouldn’t someone want their kid around, kids in his case, it always cheered him up a bit to know that he created life. his daughter was so smart, maybe a bit empathetic in nature, she always seemed to be around when he was down. it was like she could feel it.
“it’s okay to be sad, papa.”
izu chuckled, “using me and your mama’s words against me now?”
she only nodded into his chest as he placed a kiss to her temple.
“we need to get you inside, wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.”
“can we say happy words first?” big brown eyes were gazing back up at him as if he hung the moon and he couldn’t help but melt just a bit at the sight. happy words was something izuku and you had started doing for the kids when they were upset or stressed, it was just verbal affirmation but aika took to it really fast.
“alright, princess. three each, you start.”
she thought for a moment, humming, “i love my hair.”
izu nodded, “very pretty hair you have, just like your mommy,” he paused to think, “i love being a hero.”
“i loveeeee how smart i am!”
“that’s a good one, you’re almost smarter than me. let’s see,” he tapped his chin, “i love that i’m strong.”
“i love having the best daddy in the whole wide world.”
izuku felt his eyes welling with tears again, setting down the umbrella in favor of wrapping his large arms around her in an embrace, “and i love you. with all my heart.”
their moment was interrupted by the sound of the door slamming opened, “what the hell are you two doing out here?! hah? showering?”
aika wriggled free from izu’s grasp, giggling in delight at the sight of katsuki in the doorway, “ ‘suki!,” she cheered, but the blonde only flicked her playfully in the forehead.
“go find something dry to put on, you look like a damn tadpole.”
the little girl kicked off her shoes, bolting through the house to her room, trailing water in her wake. izuku went to enter the house as well but bakugou placed a hand on his chest to halt him.
“you good?,” wild crimson eyes searching izu’s, he knew him pretty well.
“yeah,” the greenette nodded only to be pulled into a hug by the blonde.
“happy birthday, dipshit.”