Summer Nights [Chapter 1]

Katsuki knew there was something weird going on the moment he pushed the door open. The house was too clean, everything too neat and in its place, like they’d hurriedly cleaned up for him when he’d agreed to come over. Most weeks he arrived to a mess they hadn't bothered to tidy, stepping in the door and immediately yelling his complaints across the house when he trod on strewn-about clothes and papers from work. This time, however, he couldn't seem to find fault.

Strike One.

“Katsuki!” his mother grinned, waving him inside with an enthusiasm like she hadn’t seen him in months. “Welcome home! How was your week?”

“The fuck is going on with you, old hag?”

“It's good to see you too!”

Strike Two.

“Are you hungry? Dinner is on cooking but I can make you a snack if you're starving, come tell us about your week!”

His father was already sitting at the kitchen table, smiling warmly as the pair passed through the doorway, and Katsuki scowled when he smelled the spices coming from the stove. His favourite curry, apparently.

Strike Three.

“Tell me what the fuck is going on or I'm leaving right now,” he demanded. “I'm serious, old man.”

The couple shared a glance, a strangely soft smile, and Mitsuki nodded as she sat down beside her husband, reaching for his hand.

“We have some good news,” Masaru began. “I hope you'll think it's good, too.”

“Out with it, old man.”

“Your mother is pregnant.”

The room fell silent but for a dull, low hum of a kitchen fan in the next room. Katsuki stared, waiting for the smile on his father's face to crack, waiting for his mother to snap and start laughing, but still they just watched him.

They were both... Happy?

“What, I wasn't good enough for you?” he snorted, rocking his chair back onto two legs to avoid meeting their gaze. “Had to go shove a snot-nosed little brat in this place?”

“We always wanted two kids,” Mitsuki told him, surprisingly calm considering her usual cranky demeanour. “But you were so...”

“Needy,” Masaru finished, almost kindly.

“I was an asshole and you were scared of having two of me,” Katsuki scowled. “Don't lie to my face, dirt-bags.”

“Close enough,” Mitsuki agreed, before Masaru could object. “We talked about it a few times over the years, but it just never seemed like the right time, with all your extra classes and trainings and then whatever the hell that phase you had in middle school was. But you’ve seemed like you were doing better, since being at UA, and then when we watched you go up and accept your medal at the sports festival this year it just kind of... solidified things for us.”

“You screwed to celebrate me winning and had an accident, is what I'm hearing.”

“We watched you step up and graciously accept the medal and smile as you took it,” Masaru corrected him. “Do you know how rare it is for us to see you genuinely smile, Katsuki?”

Katsuki's stomach churned at that, a hint of guilt sneaking into his body that he quickly tried to shove away. He didn’t like that feeling, didn’t like knowing that his parents had noticed something like that, let alone that he couldn’t even refute it. When he finally peeked at his parents' faces, at the openness and honesty they were sharing with him, for a moment he couldn't quite find words.

There was something about the way his mother's eyes had lit up, though, as she talked about it. The strange happiness that had come over her, devoid of the yelling and arguments they usually shared. He’d never thought he'd miss that, but the softness was... Frankly, weird. His father, too, held a little smile on his face that he couldn't quite hide, even as he tried to remain passive, the smell of Respecting Katsuki's Feelings™ permeating the air.

“Congrats,” he said finally, still refusing to meet their eyes. “When's it due?”

“August”

“I've never been more grateful for the dorms.”

“We understand that you won't want to stick around much when it's born,” Masaru acknowledged, and Katsuki finally tipped his chair back onto all four legs. “We'd really like it if you still came to visit us on the weekends, but we understand if you want to sleep at the dorms overnight.”

He grunted his acknowledgement, glancing toward the bubbling pot on the stove, then back to his mother, who, come to think of it, was looking a lot rounder. He was a little surprised it had taken him so long to notice, but he supposed he didn’t spend much time really looking at her.

“I'll get it,” he grumbled, when Mitsuki followed his gaze to the kitchen. “Its fine.”

“Wh- H- Th- Thank you, Katsuki.”

“Whatever.”

He stomped over to the stove and stirred the pot a few times, then turned off the element, dishing out bowls of rice and curry for each of them and taking them back to the table. They were steaming hot, probably too spicy for either of his parents, but ultimately that was their own fault for cooking it just to try to appease him, or whatever. Katsuki's scarlet eyes locked on the white porcelain, contemplating as he stirred his food up.

“Boy or girl?”

“We don't know yet.”

“What are you gonna name it?”

“We don't know that either.”

“What kind of shitty pregnant couple are you?”

“The kind who thought maybe their son would want to be involved in that discussion?”

Katsuki's jaw dropped, staring again as his parents dug into their food like it was no big deal, his trains of thought colliding and derailing with a resounding crash.

“I don't care,” he said finally, stuffing food in his gaping mouth to keep from saying anything stupid. “Do what you want.”

“Okay, well, if you have any ideas let us know,” Masaru shrugged it off, giving a warning look to Mitsuki when she pulled a face. “We'll show you our list next time you come over, maybe we’ll even have some options that you especially like.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

─

It was three more weeks before Katsuki deigned to visit them again, and he was a little proud of himself for the way he showed up on the doorstep, so calm and collected. His parents had given him plenty of space, time to gather his thoughts and mull it all over until he could piece it together in his head and make it make some semblance of sense. So he knocked on the door, and as he waited for them to answer, he pulled a piece of paper from his bag.

“Here, since you wanted my input so badly,” he grumbled, shoving it in his mother's hands rather than bother to greet her. “Have fun.”

“Katsuki The Second,” she read aloud, rolling her eyes as he smirked back at her. “Baby Explosion Murder. Lucifer.”

“What, you don't like them?” he asked innocently.

“Grenade,” she continued. “Mini Might. Baby Two: Electric Boogaloo.”

Finally, she began to laugh, and Katsuki's smirk grew a little wider. At least she’d decided to appreciate it, rather than attempt to smack him over the head with it.

“What is this, an emoji?”

“Yeah. It's original. Won’t be anyone in their class with the same name.”

“And Green? Just... Green?”

“It's a good colour.”

“You're such a sarcastic little brat.”

“Yeah, wonder where I got that from?” he snorted. “You raised me, idiot.”

“I made worse mistakes than sarcasm.”

“Rude hag, I'm perfect.”

“Keep telling yourself that, kid.”

She handed the list off to Masaru in the dining room, and thankfully the man seemed to get a kick out of it, chuckling to himself as he scanned down the list of potential baby names.

“What's this one at the bottom?” he asked, squinting at faint scribbled lines. “Did you erase it?”

“Ah, f- yeah, I- Ignore that one, it’s just-”

“Natsuki?” he asked softly, tearing up as he lifted his gaze to Katsuki's flushed face. “To match you and your mother.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, looking away with a stubborn little pout. “Ignore that, it’s stupid, the other options are way better.”

Masaru’s eyes moved past him for a moment, and apparently found something important in Mitsuki’s gaze behind him, because he pressed the page to his chest lightly, struggling to hold back his tears.

“It's perfect, Katsuki. I love it.”

“Gross. Baby Explosion Murder is a thousand times better.”

[To Be Continued]