"Ayame Kobayashi? The doctor will see you now," a pleasantly plump secretary called out with a warm smile from where she was sitting behind her large, wooden desk. It was plastered with children's drawings and colourful stickers and the little girl in question looked a little bit braver as her eyes found them, although she still clutched her mother's hand tightly as the pair made their way to the adjoining room.

Izuku Midoriya spared them a passing glance before his gaze fell once more to his own daughter, curled up against his side as she doodled absentmindedly in one of the colouring books the doctor's office provided for its miniature clientele. The waiting area they were currently sitting in had pale yellow walls that boasted educational posters from ceiling to tiled floor, and a hidden stereo system was responsible for the unobtrusive music that filtered throughout the room.

It was a pleasant atmosphere, one that Izuku noticed was probably intentional, and he was impressed as he realised that this meant that the health practitioner a door away was not too arrogant to forget about how most children were afraid of the universal 'doctor' and all this associated with one; and so, opted to soothe these fears before they even stepped into the consulting room.

Izuku's wife had been the one to make the appointment for their daughter, worried about the persistent swelling in the back of the child's throat, but she had unintentionally made the booking while she was meant to be in at her agency, for an important meeting. Ever the doting father and husband, the number one hero had dropped everything in order to take her in himself. Of course, this meant that there were quite a few stares but, thankfully, not from the doctor's practice itself. And, if the staff were so professional, Izuku certainly had high hopes for the medic he was about to see. Ochako had told him that the man was noted in a renowned medical journal for being one of the most efficient paediatricians in Japan, so it was warranted, he supposed.

The door swung open silently, and little Ayame skipped out with a (sugar-free) lollipop in her mouth, all of her previous fears clearly put to rest; and her mother followed her shortly after she left a grateful bow in the doorway.

The secretary looked over to where the door had been carefully shut and, after a few minutes to provide the doctor some time to get his bearings for his next appointment, called out to the second-to-last patient of the day.

"Mr Midoriya? You can take your daughter in now," she smiled pleasantly at him, and pulled a funny face at the girl in his arms which elicited a shy giggle from the young, green-haired girl.

Izuku nodded at her and awarded her his own smile in thanks, before he opened the door with one strong hand, only to freeze at the sight that greeted him.

Behind the L-shaped desk, littered with all sorts of arts and crafts from grateful, little patients, sat a man that the hero recognised immediately. He didn't think he could ever forget him, and in spite of the fact that he hadn't seen him in decades, the sight of Izuku's middle-school bully was enough to stop him in his tracks.

Blonde hair, that remained as untamed as the last time the two had seen each other, spiked out from the long white coat that (against all odds) marked him as the world-class paediatrician they were here to see and that fit well on his lean, toned frame. Dr Katsuki Bakugou, as the silver name plate that fought for space on his white desk spelled him out to be, was in the process of looking through the history of the girl he was to be examining next when the door opened, but he now placed the documents down and gave his clients his full attention.

Izuku saw the miniscule widening of crimson eyes and tensed out of reflex. All his years as a pro-hero could not prepare him for an unexpected confrontation with the unresolved issues from his childhood. Although, what he certainly did not expect was the way Dr Bakugou swiftly got out of his chair and beckoned the father-daughter duo to have a seat. As they did so, he leaned over the desk and shook Izuku's hand firmly, an earnest expression on his face unlike any he had ever witnessed on this particular one.

"Mr Midoriya, it's certainly been a while. I've been following your career with great interest," and it was all Izuku could do to keep his jaw from dropping open, "You've certainly come a long way since our school days."

With that, Katsuki graced Izuku with a smile that reached his eyes, and this was finally enough to shock the shorter man into action.

"I could say the same to you, Kaccha –," and here Izuku flushed and made a desperate spluttering sound as he choked on his own spit. Once again, the doctor before him earned his shock as he clapped him on the back with a warm chuckle and a, "it's Dr Bakugou as long as I'm treating our daughter, Mr Midoriya, but it's refreshing to see that you haven't let the fame get to your head."

Then the corner of his mouth lifted into a more familiar smirk that was gone so quickly, Izuku wondered if he had imagined it. Smiling professionally again, Katsuki continued, "You haven't changed a bit."

But you have, Kacchan.

The paediatrician's attention immediately turned to the littlest Midoriya and his smile morphed once more (and Izuku would have scoffed if you had told him that Katsuki Bakugou could display such a range of emotions on his face that were not some iteration of fury) into something much warmer as he took in the girl's timid demeanour.

"Well kiddo, how's about we find out what's going with your sore throat, hm?" He held out a hand to her to lead her to the examination bed in an area of the room separated by an opaque screen, Izuku following behind the two.

"I'm sure it hurts to talk, right?" the girl nodded an affirmative, "Okay then, I'll be asking your dad some questions about what brought you here today, but feel free to let me know if what he says isn't exactly right. He's old after all," a shocked giggle sounded out and Dr Bakugou grinned sharply, "And old people tend to forget things."

There was another, louder, giggle this time, but it quickly devolved into a raspy cough which was followed by a small "ouch". The blonde man's expression immediately changed into one of concern, and just like that the consultation was underway.

It was surprisingly easy to gloss over the history the two men had together when they were both clearly so dedicated to their mutual interest; namely that of the health of a little girl; and so by the time the examination had been completed and his daughter was sucking contently on a bright red lollipop (it was a diabetic-friendly one, as Izuku had found out upon questioning Dr Bakugou about the confection) the Symbol of Peace was surprised to note that this was the first interaction with his old peer he had ever experienced where he left more at ease than before it had begun.

His daughter had laryngitis, as it turned out. But, that now that that was no longer weighing on his mind, he could now address the mystery that had replaced it, the one named (Dr) Katsuki Bakugou.

"Hey, Dr Bakugou," the manner of address elicited a silent smirk, "Do you – uh – want to go for some coffee after you knock off?" Izuku didn't think he'd ever caught Katsuki off guard before, but the way his eyebrows threatened to disappear into his hairline before the health professional cleared his throat and tamed them again, Izuku felt a little spark of triumph at the thought that he'd finally managed to do just that.

"You know, to – er – catch up? Or something," the last bit was mumbled, one scarred hand coming up to rub the back of his head awkwardly while the other rested on his daughter's head affectionately.

The doctor lifted another document, a booking list this time, and after a short moment of deliberation, nodded curtly, "I have one more appointment for the day, but I should be free in around an hour, if that suits you?"

Izuku gave a small smile at the other man's quick acquiescence to his request and the two quickly exchanged contact details, agreeing to meet back at Katsuki's practice later.

With a little wave, Izuku shut the door behind him, slightly wobbly in his stride as he escorted his daughter out of the building. Ochako should be back home by now, so after swinging by for a quick greeting and a query about her day, he'd leave their girl in her care in favour of seeing where this blast from the past would lead him.

It was almost exactly an hour later (Izuku had always known his peer to be prompt) that the off-duty found himself back in the waiting room, standing this time though and admiring the pictures that adorned the sunny walls he had neglected to notice before. Many of them were of beaming children, all holding whiteboards with what was unmistakeably Katsuki's scrawl on them. They all read some version of, "I kicked [insert name of illness]'s BUTT!"

The muscled man chuckled, that sounded a lot more like the Kacchan he knew. There was one photograph in particular that caught his eye though, it was of the good doctor and one of his diminutive clients. The little boy (who could have been no older than four) was sitting in a small, blue plastic chair with a needle in his arm, the translucent pipe running from it to fill up several vials on the table next to him. There was a man in a nurse's uniform in the background, who had been no doubt switching the full vials for empty ones throughout the procedure.

By all rights, the child should have been in tears, as the process would no doubt have been a scary one for a boy of his age. There was not a wet eye in sight however, as his gaze was too busy fixed on the little explosions that sparked from one of his doctor's gloved hands, the other one holding the needle in place so as not to damage the blood vessel it had been inserted into. Izuku shared the boy's expression of slack-jawed awe, albeit for a different reason no doubt. To think that the aggressive child he had known, the one who had been so adamant that his quirk would make him the best hero ever, that it would reign violence on his enemies unlike any other they would have seen; to think that the man in the picture in front of him was that boy. Using his explosive abilities as a mere tool to distract a child from an intimidating medical investigation, simply so that he wouldn't be afraid. The thought was mind blowing.

Katsuki had indeed become a hero in the end. Not a conventional one, but a hero nevertheless.

"I don't know how he'd feel to hear you say that," the motherly receptionist broke Izuku out of his reverie with a chuckle. At his bewildered gaze, she elaborated, "You said that all out loud, Mr Midoriya."

She chuckled louder at his sheepish, but not unsurprised, grin and gestured with a pen at the day-journal she had on the desk in front of her, "The doctor had me put down your coffee appointment here. He should be done in a few minutes."

The plump woman then got out of her seat and pushed a strand of her cropped hair behind her ear as she leaned forward conspiratorially, "I'd prepare myself now if I were you."

Izuku blinked, "Prepare myself? For what?"

"He's a bit different outside of working hours, dearie. He has a heart of gold, but he can be a bit –"

The two were interrupted by the door to Katsuki's consulting room opening abruptly and Dr Bakugou himself emerged, sans white coat and stethoscope. He was now wearing a simple sweater and chinos, a collared shirt peeking out from underneath the grey-blue material of his jersey. Suit shoes that were slightly pointed at the ends completed the look of an off-duty medic that he had going on. He ran a hand vigorously through his hair as he greeted the receptionist.

"Thanks for today, Kimiko. Go home and get some rest, I'll see you tomorrow," the receptionist, who had grabbed her modest handbag from underneath her desk, gave Katsuki a squeeze on the forearm and said her own well wishes.

The trio walked to the entrance, where the now named Kimiko locked up the practice with a great flourish. Before she left though, she gave Izuku a meaningful look and his own shoulder squeeze.

Crimson eyes watched her round the corner before they snapped to Izuku's own green irises. Fully expecting the blonde to address him as 'Mr Midoriya' again, he opened his mouth to suggest that he simply call him 'Izuku' instead of this formality nonsense. He was cut off though, by none other than the paediatrician in front of him.

"What a small fucking world, eh Deku?"