Archive of Our Own ^beta

Inko found him sitting on a bench outside the restaurant, breath white in the cold air. It had been getting a little rowdy in the restaurant. But honestly, he was probably just hiding from his mother. She perhaps had had a little too much to drink, though Inko also thought it was perhaps the perfect amount as well. 

“Katsuki-kun.”

“Auntie!”

He was surprised to see her, and he immediately stiffened, posture going perfect.  

Inko had long forgiven the boy (now a man, she supposed, but he’ll forever be Mitsuki’s little boy to her) many times over, but he was still so wary of her.

If she were a more vindictive woman—or honestly, just more like his mother—she might’ve been amused by it. But she’s had enough of it, and she’s putting an end to it today, she decided. 

Katsuki-kun and her Izuku have been dating for six months now. Inko has been waiting for that boy to seek permission to marry Izuku for that same exact six months. She was sick of waiting, and she was sick of Katsuki-kun looking at her like he was expecting her to tell him at any moment how unworthy of her son he was. As if the boy—the man—hadn’t devoted the past near decade of his life to making her son happy. 

“Katsuki-kun. When are you going to ask Izuku to marry you?”

“Auntie?!”

The look on his face truly was priceless, but perhaps she could’ve been a bit more delicate. 

“I hope you aren’t waiting because you think I would disapprove.”

“Auntie, we’ve been dating six months.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“I didn’t realize it was a question,” Katsuki responded weakly, a little pathetically even. Okay, maybe it was a little funny that he was still so nervous around her. But no, no, she can’t have that!

“Katsuki-kun, let me clear: I want you to marry Izuku.”

His eyes suddenly were so very big. He looked much younger like that. Really, still a boy. Goodness, she felt old. 

“There is no one else I would trust to take care of my Izuku, to make sure he’s happy and healthy and safe—well,” and then, she acquiesced with a truly heavy sigh, “as safe as he can be.” 

“You’re serious?”

“Of course, I’m serious.”

As he was sitting on a bench, Katsuki had to look up at her, which was both amusing given their height difference and also so very nostalgic. His eyes were truly so red and so bright. Even more so when he was scared, which Inko realized, he very much was. 

“In Middle School I told him to take a swan dive off the roof in case he’d get a quirk in his next life.”

Ah. 

Katsuki didn’t even flinch when he said it, and didn't try to hide from her. He stared at her, miserable and terrified and doing a horrible job of hiding it. Oh dear. 

“I know.”

“You know?”

Inko settled next to him on the bench. The old wood was hard underneath her and gave her a bit of a chill. Thank goodness Katsuki radiated warmth.

“Izuku told me. Not then, of course. Only a couple months ago. It was when you had your first fight. Well, your first fight as a couple.”

“Izuku told you.”

Katsuki only sounded and looked surprised, and not betrayed, which Inko was somewhat relieved to see. It would've been upsetting if he thought he had any right to keep Izuku from telling his mother such things. But Inko had judged Katsuki correctly, as she thought.

“Izuku told me that although he’d forgiven you, it seemed like you were never able to forgive yourself. And that it was hurting your relationship.”

Katsuki swallowed hard, and Inko watched as he clenched his jaw. Still painful, then. He stared down the street ahead of them, eyes fixated on the falling snow or a memory she did not share. 

“Yeah. We… argued about it.”

“Of course, I was upset when he told me. And angry. But it lasted…“ and then she laughed, startling him into looking back down at her, “maybe a day.”

He looked astonished. Even offended!

“Oh, of course, I would’ve reacted very differently if he had told me then,” here Inko was, reassuring Katsuki that she would’ve been furious with him! She pressed onwards, those red eyes still on her. 

“I think… well, things may have happened quite differently. Or maybe they wouldn’t have changed at all… But how am I supposed to feel now?”

She turned away from him then, to look down the street that was dark and bright all at once, slowly being covered in snow. 

“Back during those terrible times, during the war, and ever since then, all you’ve done is take care of him. Love him. And he loves you, so much. You’re both so good for each other, truly.”

The thought of their love for each other, and how happy her Izuku was, roused Inko from seeing those dark memories in the night. She looked back to Katsuki, whose expression could only be described as solemn—but maybe a little hopeful, too.

“You were just a boy then,” Inko couldn’t help but sigh, heart heavy, “An angry, envious, foolish little boy.”

“You got that right,” Katsuki’s response sounded as if it were on autopilot, default in his agreement. Sincere, but unquestioning. This may have become a little too much for him, especially after such a long day. 

She patted his knee and made sure he was looking at her for what she had to say next. 

“You’re a man now. A good man. A kind man. A man who loves my son so very much and would never say such things to him again.”

“Never.”

“I know, Katsuki-kun,” she smiled, “that one wasn’t a question. I know you never will.”

Katsuki nodded and blinked furiously. Holding back tears. Just like his mother, really.

“You have my blessing and more, Katsuki-kun. Stop making my boy wait.”

“He made me wait eight years,” Katsuki croaked back, and Inko laughed. She patted his knee again as he frantically scrubbed at his eyes with his knuckles. 

“And it was those eight years that made you so worthy of my blessing! Besides, it’s not like you wanted to get married at seventeen.”

It was Katsuki who laughed then, and while certainly amusing and endearing, it was not the kind of laugh Inko had been aiming for. He sounded embarrassed. 

“Auntie…”

“What, what?”

“Auntie, I basically proposed in the hospital after the war ended,” Katsuki admitted, eyes looking straight up at the starry sky. His cheeks were pink, and Inko knew it wasn’t from the cold. Not this boy. 

“No, no!” Inko gasped, but it was all amusement, no alarm. The thought of it! She can still remember Katsuki then like it was yesterday, swaddled in bandages and following Izuku around like a lost duckling. The boy had come back from the dead but all he cared about was Izuku. When she thinks of it like that… 

“Yeah. I mean…” Katsuki cleared his throat, still looking up into the night, “When he told me that he’d lost One for All, all I could say back is that… that I thought we’d be chasing after each other for the rest of our lives. Obviously, I meant as heroes, but… I don’t think I did. Not really.”

She can’t help it: “That’s a terrible proposal!”

Katsuki laughed, and that was the kind of laugh she had been aiming for. Inko always felt accomplished when she managed to surprise Mitsuki or Katsuki into good-natured laughter, as she’s sure Izuku did too.

“Wait—wait, so the suit was the proposal,” Inko realizes as she says it, stuttering through her own laughter and bringing her hands up to her mouth in surprise. 

Katsuki looked back at her and grinned, cheeky.

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

Unbelievable! Katsuki!

“Does he know? Did you tell him? Did he figure it out?”

“We weren’t even dating! I didn’t even know he—“ but Katsuki was still laughing, and they were laughing together. 

“Bakugo Katsuki, I do believe you may have set the world record for the most extravagant proposal. Oh dear.”

“You see why I haven’t proposed again yet?” Katsuki joked, eyes squinted in amusement, running a hand through his hair like his father did when he was nervous. “Too fucking hard to top that.”

“Really, it should be Izuku proposing,” Inko said without thinking, and then realized just how true her words are. “Wait, why hasn’t he?”

“Auntie, we’ve only been dating six months!”

Inko could not say when the last time was that she’d laughed this hard, that she'd truly felt this light and joyous. She’d never tell Izuku, but of course him becoming a Pro again had made her nervous, had initially made her the most stressed she’d been since the war! But she’d done her best to not let it show. She was truly surprised to find out how much Izuku’s relationship with Katsuki helped reduce that stress. The way Katsuki kept him safe at all costs was such a relief. She hadn’t forgotten about Jaku, of course. 

At that thought, and of little battered, broken Katsuki-kun, back from the dead confessing to Izuku—“Oh, Katsuki-kun, you should really should just start calling me Okaasan.”

“Six months!” Was the squawked reply.

“Six months, Okaasan.” She responded cheerily. 

Katsuki was bright red, bright, bright red. The day he finally called her that would go in the books. She’d celebrate the anniversary every year. 

Both of them were then startled by the sound of the izakaya door opening, and looked up to see a very confused Izuku, who had a flush of his own on his cheeks.  

“Uh… Kacchan, Okaasan? What are you talking about out here?”

Inko seized the opportunity. 

“Oh! Izuku! Just who Okaasan wanted to see. Really, you’ve made Katsuki-kun wait so long, why haven’t you proposed—“

Two voices as one: “Okaasan!”

Inko smiled, beatific.