He's not even fully awake. His feet find the bottom step by muscle memory. His eyes are barely open. If this were a movie, this would be the calm before the stupidest possible storm.

And then he sees it.

A leg. Out the window. His daughter's leg. One foot already dangling outside, shoes clutched in her hand like she's some kind of goddamn cat burglar.

Katsuki's brain, which had been running on low-power mode approximately two seconds ago, experiences a full system restart. Then a crash. Then several error messages.

And there, outside the window, standing under the moonlight like a deer caught in the world's most unfortunate headlights—

Taisei Kirishima. Eijiro and Mina's son. The kid with the messy red hair and the pink streaks who's been coming to this house since he was old enough to hold a juice box. Standing in the garden. At midnight. Waiting for Katsuki's baby girl to climb out a window.

But the universe, as if sensing Katsuki wasn't suffering enough, decides to add a little seasoning to the hellscape.

A door opens upstairs. Then another. Then another.

Three heads appear over the upstairs railing, one after another. Green hair, green hair, green hair. Akihiko's eyes are narrowed, already scanning the scene like he's about to write a full tactical report. Masaki's eyes are the size of dinner plates, a grin already spreading across his face like this is the funniest thing he's ever witnessed in his twenty years of life. And Haruki—

Haruki has one hand over his chest, like he's been personally betrayed, personally wounded, personally stabbed in the back.

But then.

Another door opens. This one from the master bedroom. And out steps Izuku Midoriya.

Sleepy. Hair flattened on one side from his pillow, sticking up dramatically on the other. His eyes are still half-lidded as he takes in the scene before him—his husband trembling with rage, three sons arranged along the upstairs railing like a panel of judges, his daughter halfway out the window, and outside, Taisei Kirishima, who looks like he's currently drafting his will.

Izuku blinks once. Twice.

And then he looks at Y/n. Really looks at her. The changed clothes. The shoes in her hand. The deliberate silence. The planning.

And Taisei Kirishima, still standing in the garden, is now the sole focus of four Bakugos and one Midoriya, all of whom are looking at him like he's just asked to borrow the family car.