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Eri always liked Katsuki’s voice.
Aizawa and Yamada used to alternate who read Eri bedtime stories, Hitoshi joined for a bit, and then Katsuki joined the family.
Katsuki, who seemed to have a voice for every character of every book, stretching high for rabbits and mice, growling low and deep for the bears, and the lions.
Eventually, this gradually led to Katsuki being the only one able to get her to sleep. The only one she would let read stories to her.
And Katsuki was fine with this.
He was glad to be a part of the family.
Hitoshi could tell.
Soon enough, Katsuki would be the one to comfort her when she had nightmares too. Hitoshi went to him for nightmares as well, and he always seemed to know exactly what to do or say to calm his nerves. Some nights, Katsuki would sit Eri on his lap and guide her hands while working the clay, or carry her around the house until she drifted back to sleep.
Eri needed the movement when she remembered Chisaki restraining her…
But Katsuki complied. He never asked about the nightmares, but he could usually tell what she needed.
He once stayed up for 5 hours, cradling and rocking Eri as he walked around the house.
Then he put her to bed and got an hour of sleep before waking up, ready to go to school.
Hitoshi almost always saw.
He barely slept most nights, and really, it would’ve been more convenient for everyone if Eri got attached to him.
But she chose Katsuki.
And Katsuki never pushed her away.
Not when she asked for two more stories.
Not when she woke him up the second time. Or the third time. Or the fourth or fifth or however many nightmares she had, he would comfort her and lull her back to sleep with soothing words and funny voices.
Hitoshi liked seeing Eri get comfort.
He liked getting comfort too, but if Katsuki was busy, he settled for watching his brother and sister interact, and that usually was enough.
Some nights, when Katsuki would need to tell her another story, Hitoshi would sit beside the door.
Hitoshi liked hearing his stories.
The best stories though, were not the ones from the books.
When Katsuki was too tired to turn on a light and fish out a book, and the story sprung from his head like explosions from his hands.
Those stories… Those were special.
Stories of two kids and adventures, fighting dragons, pretending to be heroes and saving citizens…
Those stories were from deep in Katsuki’s memory.
He only fished them out for Eri.
But Katsuki never pushed Hitoshi away either.
When Katsuki would leave Eri’s room, finally getting her back to sleep, he would offer Hitoshi a hand, and they would head down the stairs, into the room Katsuki worked his clay in.
There was a special chair for Hitoshi now.
Comfortable, just for him.
And Katsuki would lull him to sleep by working on clay.
Forming images and shapes with his hands and tools.
Sometimes painting the fine lines of flowers and leaves, hands steady.
It would always send Hitoshi to sleep.
Something about Katsuki working the clay… Katsuki being relaxed, in his element was enough to relax Hitoshi’s nerves and settle him into dreamless sleep.
Hitoshi knew that Katsuki had useful hands, working with clay, using his quirk with precision, painting those fine details, hitting the drums during their concert for the festival…
Steady hands that cradled Eri.
He knew that Katsuki was musical, at least to some extent. A certain amount of rhythm required.
He didn’t anticipate that Katsuki would be good at something musical outside of working with his hands...
But on the nights when Hitoshi had already woken up once before. When Eri was up and needed to be walked around the house, he read a story, and then woke up again, heading to Katsuki’s room again… and again…
Those nights were rare, but special in their own way.
Those were the nights when Katsuki was too tired to function. Too tired to think up a story for Eri, and he would sing.
Singing whatever came to mind, a song he heard on the radio, an actual lullaby, hero themes that he remembered.
It varied from moment to moment, sometimes shifting in the middle because he couldn’t remember the next words.
Those nights were the most soothing.
Those nights, Hitoshi fell asleep beside Eri’s door, and would wake up in his own bed the next morning.
He knew Katsuki was carrying him there.
He didn’t really know how though.
Hitoshi, while being an insomniac, was a notoriously light sleeper.
It was how he knew when Eri was out of bed.
When Katsuki got up.
When Aizawa returned home…
It was a side effect of his time with his previous foster parents.
But he would never sleep soundly.
But those nights, when Katsuki was too tired to think, he would sing Eri to sleep…
Katsuki somehow would find him, lift him, and carry Hitoshi back to his room, tuck him into bed, and leave…
All without waking Hitoshi.
Man, even Aizawa’s stealth didn’t stretch that far.
Hitoshi woke up to every touch, every whisper around him.
Except Katsuki’s apparently.
Then, the next morning, Katsuki wouldn’t say anything.
No comments on the night before.
Hitoshi was confused.
He just wanted to know how Katsuki did it!
Then he sees Katsuki pick up Bumblebee without waking her, just gently picking her up, slipping into the seat, and plopping her back on his lap without her stirring.
Hitoshi thinks he might be doing something along the same lines with him.
But he still can’t figure out what he’s doing.
Eri was the same way as Hitoshi.
Sure, she got to sleep well enough, but moving her while she was sleeping became downright tedious.
Aizawa couldn’t do it, Yamada couldn’t do it, hell, Hitoshi couldn’t do it.
But then Katsuki slipped around the side of the car, unbuckled Eri’s sleeping form and picked her up, humming a little tune as he brought her into the house, leaving the rest of the family to gawk.
“How the hell did you do that?” Aizawa asks when Katsuki came back out. He took a small step back.
“Do what?” he asked.
“Get Eri without waking her,” he asks and Katsuki chuckles a little.
“She’s just like the cats,” he says and no one knows what that means, but Katsuki is moving again, carrying books and groceries into the house.
Hitoshi tries to bring it up to him a few days later.
“You’re both… just… cats?” Katsuki says and Hitoshi sighs.
“But what does that mean?”
“You like warmth?” Katsuki says, sounding more unsure with every word.
“Both Eri and I wake up to every touch. Except yours,” he says and Katsuki looks down.
“Oh,”
“Yeah, oh. How do you do it?”
“Well… I said you’re like cats right?”
“Go on,” he sighed.
“Well, I always warm up my hands before moving cats. They already like me because I’m a fuckin’ space heater, and the same thing applies to you guys,” Katsuki says and Hitoshi squints at them.
“So you warm up your body… so we don’t wake up?” he asks and Katsuki nods.
“I also hum something. Distract from the noise and what not, but it’s mostly that,”
“Isn’t it annoying?” he asked.
“It’s fine? It’s not too long,” Katsuki says.
“But… you already said you run hot,” Hitoshi says and Katsuki shrugs.
“I just become slightly feverish for a little bit. Not that big a deal, I drink water after it,” he says and Hitoshi just sighs.
“We really don’t deserve you,”
“What?” Katsuki exclaims.
“You go through all of that to make sure we don’t wake up,”
“I only sleep well whenever everyone else is asleep,” Katsuki blurts out, and then he looks down like he regrets saying that.
The next night, Hitoshi doesn’t feel that bad, going to Katsuki after he’s had a nightmare.
“Katsuki,” Hitoshi said quietly. Katsuki wakes up with a jolt, and he feels bad for a second, before Katsuki fixes his worried gaze on him.
“Hitoshi? What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Sing for me?” Hitoshi asks, and Katsuki just smiles, patting the bed next to him, and Hitoshi leans on him, Katsuki quietly braiding his hair, like he knows exactly what calms Hitoshi.
He probably does.
Because Hitoshi is asleep minutes later.
Turns out, despite Yamada’s protests, Katsuki was the better singer, rarely using his voice, only singing to soothe.
Like a cold compress on a bruise.
Hitoshi liked having their little family secret.
He wouldn’t tell 1-A.
And honestly? What would Hitoshi do without Katsuki at this point?
He hasn’t slept this well for years.