Mismatched Rhythms and Lullabies

Izuku's POV

As the afternoon sun cast long shadows across his small home office, Izuku Midoriya powered down his computer, the hum of the cooling fans tapering off into silence. His workday, primarily involving the intricate tasks of software engineering for his modest yet thriving business, had been productive, but it was what awaited him afterward that now quickened his pulse.

Yesterday's outing with Katsuki and Eri had left an imprint of joy and potential progress in their evolving relationships, and the echo of Eri's delighted squeals seemed to linger in his mind as a reminder of the barriers they had all crossed. Katsuki had even allowed a rare smile to breach his usual defenses, a moment of vulnerability that Izuku cherished.

With a contented sigh, Izuku made his way to the kitchen to prepare his usual green tea, the ritualistic whistling of the kettle providing a comforting backdrop as he mulled over his plans for the evening. Today wasn't just another bedtime arrangement; it was an opportunity to reinforce the tentative bridges he had built with both Eri and her father.

After breakfast, with the new toys packed securely in a colorful tote bag, Izuku donned his light jacket and headed out.

"Eri's going to love these," Izuku chuckled, imagining her wide-eyed wonder as she experienced each new toy.

It was astonishing, really, how naturally he had slipped into this role; how eagerly he had taken to the challenge of brightening Eri's day with thoughtful toys and activities. There was a joy in this process, a fulfillment in seeing Eri's delighted reactions that Izuku hadn't expected when he first offered to help Katsuki.

Izuku couldn't help but wonder, with a touch of amusement, Is this what fatherhood feels like?

Yet, amidst this newfound joy, there lingered a shadow of inadequacy — a sense that, for all his efforts with Eri, he hadn't quite done enough for her father. Katsuki, with his gruff independence and occasional bursts of warmth, remained a puzzle that Izuku felt he was far from solving.

He made the brief journey to Katsuki's apartment with quick, eager steps. Upon arriving, Izuku adjusted the bag on his shoulder, took a deep breath to calm his racing heart, and knocked.

The door swung open promptly. Katsuki, looking more frazzled than usual, ushered Izuku inside with a distracted gesture. His hair, in disarray, showed a day spent in stressful chaos, likely grappling with school demands. Izuku's eyes briefly followed Katsuki's glance back towards his bedroom, where the disorganized spill of books and papers was just visible.

"Look, I've got to hammer out this essay for my engineering class—it's due tonight and I haven't got half of it done yet," Katsuki grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. His tone held a mix of irritation and stress, likely aggravated by the looming deadline and his clear procrastination.

Izuku nodded understandingly, setting down the bag of toys. "No worries, Katsuki. Eri and I will be just fine, won't we?" he chirped cheerfully, glancing at the little girl secured in her swing chair, her eyes brightening at the sound of Izuku's voice.

As Katsuki retreated to his room, the faint clacking of keyboard keys soon filled the apartment, punctuated by the occasional sigh or mutter. Izuku turned his full attention to Eri, his hands diving into the bag of toys he'd brought with him. "Now, what do we have here?" Izuku murmured mostly to himself, but loud enough for Eri's curious ears.

Izuku laid out the toys carefully on the coffee table, creating a vibrant display of colors and shapes that immediately seemed to catch Eri's interest. He picked up the fabric book first, its pages a riot of textures and hues designed to catch the eye and stimulate the senses.