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When Katsuki imagines his future, he imagines one thing and one thing only: Success.
Being the number one, being at the top of his game, operating his own agency, and being the front page of everyone’s mind — That was an ideal future.
One thing Katsuki had managed to neglect in these fantasies, was family. Friends. Since U.A had forcefully made him have both of those things, and he now realises he can’t get rid of them all, he’s had to refactor.
What does the future look like for him now? With his friends, with Deku - what is it supposed to be from now on? Success is still attainable, but what will he have to sacrifice or gain through having these people around?
Admittedly, Katsuki hadn’t been thinking on it much. He liked the way his future looked in his head, and was at this point, entirely unwilling to let it be different in any way. So, he’d filed his future away in the back of his head. Save it for a rainy day before he takes it and shakes it out again to make some changes.
He’s good to just let it be, for now.
-
“There’s been an incident,” Aizawa deadpans, in the most serious tone he’s ever taken as he walks in and waves Iida and Yaoyorozu back to their seats. “Idaten agency had an issue with a villain—“
“Pardon?” Iida pipes up, stopping just short of sitting down at his desk. “What? What happened? Is everyone ok?”
“Everyone’s fine, there’s just been a complication—“
“What kind?”
Katsuki can see Aizawa’s fists clench in his pockets as he huffs a frustrated noise. “If you let me finish—“ He grits. “In twenty years from now, Idaten agency has an incident in which two of it’s heroes’ children wind up wrapped in a time-travel quirk incident. Those children are now here, in the present, exactly twenty years back.”
The entire class audibly blinks at him. “Two of you become heroes at Idaten, have children, and they have wound up here due to an accident with a time-travel quirk,” Aizawa summarises, but Katsuki can hear Kaminari’s cogs still starting and stopping slowly from a seat over. “They’ve been brought here as they believe their parents can help them to talk about what happened.”
“Sorry?” Yaoyorozu asks tenatively, her hand raised to catch his attention. “They haven’t told them what’s gone on?”
“The police and two sidekicks from Idaten have gotten a base-level estimation of the incident, but the girls that arrived have refused to say a word to anyone they don’t recognise.” Aizawa casts an almost nervous look to Iida. “The only person they do recognise, so far, has been Iida Tensei. The eldest pointed him out on a poster and reffered—“
He sighs, head dropping. “Referred to him as ‘uncle.’”
Katsuki looks at Iida immdiately, and the realisation is clear on his face. Those kids are his. One or two of them, at least.
And if that ain’t a fucking thought. For Iida Stick-Up-His-Fucking-Ass Tenya to have children. To have raised a baby into a person - this kid must be just as fucking boring. Katsuki would bet she wears cargo skirts with zip-up cardigans.
Katsuki could see it now - long straight hair pulled into twin braids over her shoulders. Big owlish glasses sat on a rounded little face. He’ll bet she’s in love with trains, or dinosaurs, or some other generic interest. A true Iida child.
That’s probably why she’s not cooperating with police either. That ‘Stranger Danger’ policy is suddenly very unhelpful, huh, future Iida?
“How old are they?” Is the first question Iida asks, even though Katsuki can see the what the fuck? sitting just on the tip of his tongue. It’s nearly laughable.
“Sixteen, fourteen, and five,” Aizawa replies, and the whispers amongst their classmates begins. “They all have developed quirks, as far as we can tell, and the eldest is apparently in attendance at U.A - another reason the police ultimately decided it was best to bring them here.”
Iida opens his mouth to ask something else, then closes it. Aizawa senses the hesitation and meets it with an answer to an unasked question. “They won’t speak to anyone, and I haven’t seen them yet, but the sidekicks noted that only one looked like you,” he explains. “The other two are blonde, and one is under discussion for potentially being restrained due to her explosion quirk having been set off when she arrived.”
Katsuki feels his head explode the minute the words leave his mouth. “What.” He mutters, and Aizawa nods like he’s confirming something.
“The other two appear to be yours, Bakugou,” he tells him. “So you two are both going to need to speak with them in an attempt to get them to explain how they ended up here, and potentially figure out a way to get them back, or know if someone is coming to get them.”
“How the fuck do you become a father?” Jirou mutters, narrowing her eyes at him. Katsuki wonders that himself.
-
Katsuki had expected Aizawa to protest when his friends asked to tag along to meet his supposed children, but he’d let them go. They all headed in silence up to Katsuki’s room, where they’d left the kids to wait on him.
“What are we—?” Katsuki asks, gesturing to the door. Aizawa sighs, as if this is all so frustrating.
“Ask them their names, where they’re from, how they got here, and if they know how to get back,” Aizawa says, waving a hand toward the room. “Be aware that they will recognise you and assume you know things you do not. Ask questions if you feel it’s necessary, but don’t go exploding your own heads. The plan is to get them home.”
“Right,” Eijirou affirms.
“And don’t go pissing them off,” Aizawa adds sharply. “Her quirk nearly took down Idaten’s entrance, she’s far more powerful than necessary, so take caution.”
Katsuki expects nothing less of his child, but it’s still a bit jarring. A powerful kid that inhereted his powerful quirk - he never would’ve thought of that, no sir.
He opens the door and steps inside, and they look way different to how he’d imagined. They look— Boring, really.
The older one’s hair is tied back neatly, her bangs are freshly trimmed and pristine, and she’s sat nicely with one leg crossed over the other on his bed. She’s wearing leggings. And sneakers. Katsuki really wanted a little more pizzaz from his own children
“Oh,” Ashido says. “You’re— You’re normal-looking.”
“Not sure what else you were expecting,” she says, voice flat but soft. Her entire gimmick feels like the word gentle. Katsuki doesn’t understand where he could’ve gone in life to have a kid like this. So plain. “Hi, dad.”
“Don’t do that, I haven’t had you yet,” Katsuki cringes, moving over to pull out his desk chair and seat himself in front of them. “What’s your name, where’d you come from, and how do I get rid of you?”
“Why did they take Sorashi away?” She asks instead of answering him. “She didn’t want to go - why did they take her from us?”
“Is that Iida’s daughter?” Ashido asks, and they rest of his friends follow her to come sit around her on the floor. “Sorashi? That’s a pretty name.”
“What are you talking about?” She asks. “Iida’s daughter? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Not important,” Katsuki cuts in, casting a glare back at Ashido. “How are you here?”
“Time travel quirk incident,” she says. “A boy being held at the agency has that quirk, he was remanded for reasons unrelated, and it was accidentally activated and we were the only targets around.”
Eijirou blinks at her blankly. “Wait— it was genuinely an accident? How old was the guy?”
“Nineteen,” she replies, sounding almost bored. “Papa’s caught him and detained him on several different occasions for stupid things like theft and vandalism. He’s not threatening, just a drop-out our father thinks he can save.”
“Why the fuck would I do that?” Katsuki grumbles. She frowns at him sadly.
“Not you,” she says, “papa. Our other father. Your husband. You’re telling me you haven’t met him yet?”
“Clearly not!” Katsuki huffs. “Family weren’t exactly on the agenda before you turned up.”
“That’s not right,” she mutters, shaking her head. “Papa said he met you in U.A. That you were aggressive and arrogant and he wanted you expelled - before he got to know you, obviously.”
“Well that narrows it down to the entire school roster,” Sero says, looking flatly at Ashido. “It’s not me. I’d rather die.”
“Sorry— Hate to interject,” Kaminari starts, looking around the room, “where’s the little one? They said you had two kids?”
Katsuki notices then that, yeah, Dunce-Face is right. The youngest is missing. He looks to his daughter (Christ, what a fucking idea) for some kind of worry, but she just sighs.
“Hibiki,” she calls, “dad wants to see you.”
Kaminari jumps ten feet in the fucking air, yelping sharply as the covers of Katsuki’s bed suddenly flit up from where they’d hung over the side of his mattress, and a little blond, curly head of hair pops out from beneath it. He blinks owlishly up at them all, looking visibly overwhelmed by the crowd.
“Hibiki likes to hide,” Katsuki’s daughter (this isn’t funny anymore) explains, reaching for him to pick him up and settle him on her lap. “He’s not much for talking either.”
And she’s right. They all look at him for something, but all he does is look right back. He doesn’t squeal, or fight, or anything. He doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t say a word. He sits and stares, just as confused as they are.
“He’s a boy of few words,” she says, like she’s fucking Shakespeare. “My name is Megumi.”
“Two out of three questions, twerp,” Katsuki cuts in, because he’s actually a little on edge about this now. “How do I get rid of you?”
“Sorashi was right,” Megumi says instead of answering him. “You two were very different before us. Before each other. I suppose I see where she gets it then - her attitude is one equivelant to yours.”
“What in the fuck are you talking about?” He asks frustratedly. She straightens her back, shaking her hair out of her eyes.
“You don’t get it, do you?” She asks, amusement obvious in her tone. “No wonder you believed I was just a late bloomer.”
“What are you talking about now?” Sero asks. “Is it about— Your quirk? Because we heard how crazy that shit was.”
“What quirk?” She snorts. “I don’t have a quirk.” She looks sharply at Katsuki. “And that always hurt you, didn’t it?”
Katsuki startles. A quirkless kid— He didn’t think that’d happen. Maybe it’s karma for Deku, which would be fair, he won’t lie, but still.
That always hurt you. Katsuki doesn’t like that. Having a quirkless kid, yeah that’s a bit sucky, but the way she looked at him? Is he horrible about it in his future? What the hell does he say to her? What kind of fucking dad does he turn out ot be?
“I don’t have a quirk,” she says again, casting her eyes away. “The most Hibiki can do right now is be a human sparkler. The explosion at the agency wasn’t me - it was your daughter.”
Now Katsuki’s just confused. “You’re my daughter?” He says, leaning closer. She levels her gaze on him, face set.
“So is she,” she says. “Papa always said he was surprised you liked him back. Uncle Tensei thought you were after his money.”
Ashido catches on sooner than Katsuki, reaching to hold onto his arm and look at him with wide eyes. “Holy shit, dude, you marry Iida—“ She tells him, voice hushed but incredulous, and Katsuki feels his body go rigid.
What the FUCK.
-
Maybe if they had seen the kids all together, it would’ve clicked much sooner. Katsuki thinks this all would’ve been easier if he and Iida had just been given the chance to look at their supposedly separate children side-by-side.
The evidence is both compelling and appalling. Katsuki and Iida stand a good five meters away from each other, looking at their children— Their joint children— in disbelief.
Iida’s daughter is tall, broad, and surprisingly buff for a girl of her age. She sits on the sofa in the common room with her arms crossed over her chest, and one leg propped up on the coffee table. Her large, beat-up sneakers are scuffing the table they eat off of, but Iida seems too caught up in her look to really notice.
Katsuki’ll admit she’s throwing him a bit, too, but it’s easier to believe that she might be his own. If her set frown, ripped baggy jeans, and t-shirt brandishing a metal band he is very much into is anything to go off. The bracelet on her wrist which is obviously in the colours of his hero costume is only more damning.
How the fuck did the cops not notice these details? They’re glaring at Katsuki in the face right now.
This conclusion also explains why the fuck his kids were so lame. They were half Iida. Of course her hair was neatly trimmed and the boy liked to hide. The only trace of them Katsuki could sniff out was the quirk on the youngest, the blonde hair, and Megumi’s fucking attitude.
“I told you they’d freak,” Sorashi pipes up. She’s looking at Iida but it’s obvious she’s talking to her sister, who lazily swings her gaze over to her from where she’d previously been watching their brother fiddle. “Can’t wait till our actual dad’s come and get us. These losers aren’t worth talking to. They’re not even together yet.”
Megumi hums, narrowing her eyes at Katsuki. “He’s hardly top ten material at this stage,” she sighs, “if he’d kept up like this, I doubt papa would’ve touched him with a ten-foot pole. Let alone let him bear his children.”
“Why have you made our kids talk like this?” Katsuki scoffs, looking to Iida. “They sound like peasant orphans from yore. Like they’re about to ask if they can have extra bread for all their good chimney sweeping.”
Iida seems like he’s checked out for a moment, before he very slowly turns his head to glare at Katsuki. His fists clench at his sides, and something inside Katsuki actually gets excited at the idea that he might punch him in front of these children. He’s not sure why, but violence is always itching inside of Katsuki, so is it a surprise?
“Bakugou,” he starts through gritted teeth. “In some kind of future time, we end up together, and I put a harsh amount of faith in you by not only allowing you into my family and, god for-fucking-bid, marrying you, but also having you birth and raise my children. The next generation of Iida’s. My parent’s grandchildren. Either you shape up very fucking quickly, or my standards drop through hell. I am very afraid to find out which of those options it is, but given the state of my eldest, I’m making the bold and painful assumption that it was the latter. Do not speak to me about what I’ve done to them.”
And, ok, fucking ouch. These kids are par-baked, and Katsuki is a dick, and Iida has every right to think that this is fucking ridiculous (because even Katsuki has realised that), but what the fuck? A bit fucking dramatic to say his standards dropped through hell.
Fuck him and his goddamn children. If Katsuki forces himself to ‘shape-up’ for this asshole, then maybe he’s gonna just have to live with making these kids non-existent. Sorry to Megumi and Hibiki, but does this shit seem worth it? Of fucking course not.
No wonder his kid thinks he hates her. He’s under the constant stressors of Iida Tenya and his big fat fucking ego. Maybe their kids came out so fucked up because he couldn’t stop trying to live up to some stupid legacy - probably getting in the way of Katsuki trying to be number one.
He knew family shit would be a pain in the ranks. He knew he should’ve cut that fucking idea way out of his head. Well, now he can. He’s been given the heads up. Kids are out of the question, end of.
Sorashi bristles like a cat, however, at Iida’s words. She stands quickly, and Megumi reaches out to take her by the arm before she can actually square up to her goddamn father.
“Say that about my dad again, asshole, I’ll drop you through hell,” she warns, straining against the grip Megumi has on her wrist. “You can say hi to Endeavour on your way down. Maybe he’ll have some pointers for you on being a shitty father.”
“Sora,” Megumi stops her, tugging at her arm. “That’s not papa - not yet.”
“I’m sure I tried my hardest considering what I was working with,” Iida grunts, and Katsuki does not miss the side-eye he recieves.
Clamouring outside the doors breaks them away from the bubbling argument, and Katsuki worries for a minute that Aizawa’s allowed all their classmates back into the building to come see their family issues out on display. He’d rather not watch Todoroki try to chime in with all the Endeavour comparisons.
But when the doors burst open, it isn’t the class. It’s him. Older, wider, with longer hair loosely tied back and wearing what looks like a long-upgraded version of his hero costume. He focuses on Katsuki for only a beat before his eyes land on the kids.
“Oh, thank fuck,” he breathes, rushing at them quickly. He nearly shoves Katsuki and Iida out of the way in his hurry.
He scoops all three of them into his arms, and both Megumi and Sorashi reach and cling to him, breathing out a collective sigh of relief once they’re in his hold. “Thank god, you’re ok,” he sighs when he draws back. “Are you hurt— Is Hibiki happy?”
Megumi hauls the boy up to see his father— Sweet Jesus, his actual father. Katsuki - himself - the older version that should be- Should be terrible. Katsuki shouldn’t look so together, and happy. Why are his kids pleased to see him?
“Hi, ‘Biki,” Older Katsuki coos at Hibiki, hoisting him up and smiling at him. Hibiki still makes no sound, but a firm smile breaks out across his round little face, and his small arms wrap around his dad, pressing their cheeks together to hug him. “I thought something happened to you. I’m gonna kill that little time-travel shit when we get back.”
Katsuki’s so caught up in watching himself, that he doesn’t notice Iida beside him. Taller Iida. Broader, darker, fucking huge Iida standing over him and looking at him curiously. Katsuki jumps out of skin when he notices him, darting backward a few steps.
“So little,” Iida muses, and his voice is so low. “You used to be so small, Kat.”
“What?” Older Katsuki asks, turning around and seeing how he’s backed away. “Stop it, Tenya, you’re scaring him. He probably doesn’t even know he’s gay yet.”
Iida hums. “So unkempt,” he chuckles, fucking fondly. “You were cute, but I’m very glad you stopped wearing so much baggy clothing.”
“Also very glad I stopped binding, huh?” Older Katsuki teases, and Present Katsuki feels like he’s about to have a stroke when he sees the soft smirk on his own face. “Pervert.”
“And if I say yes?” Iida laughs, before kneeling (he is massive, how the hell did they get him through the door) down to talk to Megumi. “Hi, sweet. You alright?”
“You’re a terrible person in youth,” she tells him. Katsuki looks around for younger Iida, whose stood stock-still and confused much closer to him. Like he’s also taken a few steps back from the situation. “I don’t think you like dad very much.”
“Oh, no,” Older Iida chuckles, looking back at them. “I do. I’m just an asshole about it because your dad used to be a lot like that.”
“What? Fucking cool?” Sorashi chimes in. Older Katsuki flicks her arm.
“An egotistical dickhead,” he corrects her. He looks over to Katsuki (that’s confusing), tilting his head at him. “I was such a prick. God, but I’ll never forget that waistline. I miss it sometimes.”
Katsuki and Iida haven’t said anything since their older selves walked in. To be brutally honest, which Katsuki always is, this is a headfuck of a situation, and Katsuki no longer likes looking at himself like this.
(He will, however, silently admit that he does look good. Like, a grown-into-himself kind of look. He seems just— Hotter. Katsuki’s glad to know he only gets hotter. Not so glad to admit that Iida does, too, like the petty prick he is.)
“You look fine without it,” Older Iida goes on, before patting Megumi and Sorashi on the shoulders and urging them toward the door. “We should go. I think these three have made enough of a mess, don’t you?”
Older Katsuki doesn’t reply for a beat, still looking at Iida. “I sort of miss the younger you, you know?” He says, a suspicious grin on his face. “And the younger me. It was a lot easier to climb you when I was that much shorter.”
Katsuki swears he hears the thunk of his jaw hitting the floor. Older Iida only laughs it off, urging the girls to go, and Older Katsuki bundles up Hibiki in his arms to take him away, too. He talks softly to him the whole way out, not sparing a single glace back, even as Aizawa appears to stare wide-eyed at them.
“Don’t worry, Shou, we’re outta your hair,” Older Katsuki laughs at him. “You won’t see me, but I’ll definitely see you at dinner tonight. Later, Teach.”
Aizawa watches them go, and a very sharp and sudden flash of light signals their departure. He turns back to Iida and Katsuki, still standing awkwardly in the common room, unsure of what to do with themselves.
“You two—“ He starts, before Iida sharply cuts him off.
“Can we have a minute alone?” He asks, eyes on the floor. Aizawa lets out a puff of breath that’s hard to place the emotion of, but ultimately backs out of the room and closes the doors behind him.
“That was hot,” Katsuki blurts, mostly to break the silence. He doesn’t give himself time to regret it as he powers on. “Good with kids— That, uh— I don’t need to say what it does. We have kids, that about sums up what it does to me.”
Iida, once again, turns to look at him very slowly. He doesn’t look angry, or incredulous this time. He looks mildly disappointed, and tad annoyed, and Katsuki cracks a small grin at the reaction.
“You—“ Iida sighs, shoulders sagging. “—Are remarkably insufferable.”
He brushes past Katsuki, heading for the elevator. “I cannot wait to see what future you make me suffer through before those kids come around,” he calls over his shoulder.
Katsuki snorts, “wouldn’t you like to know?” before chasing after him. He steps into the elevator beside him when the doors slide open.
Iida takes in a deep breath. “Yes,” he admits, “I would.”
Katsuki smiles, eyes dropping to the floor. “Guess you’ll have to find out.”