Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Aizawa-sensei once said something to them, during a battle royale free-for-all training scheme where they’d all performed disastrously.

“The thing with villains is this: they’ll often have more friends than you do.”

Katsuki didn’t really realize what he meant at the time, mainly because he used to scoff at the mere idea of friends back then. But he gets it now. Being a Pro Hero is just as cutthroat as Katsuki always thought it would be. It’s about the wins, about the credit. Teaming up means sharing that credit. That glory. For those aiming for the top, it means a lower score for your hero rankings. You don’t do it unless you have to.

Villains though, villains have no such restrictions. And there’s nothing worse than villains who’ve formed a fucking clique.

That’s the whole reason Katsuki’s in this mess right now, pinned to an alley wall with his arms stretched behind his back. Fuckers jumped him when he was tired, pretending to be helpless victims, and like a dumbass, he fell for it.

“Not so tough now, are you?” the man behind him with piercings all over his face sneers. He has some sort of immobilization quirk, touch based, Katsuki notes desperately. Has to be. He hasn’t moved his hand off Katsuki since this started.

“Fuck off! The hell do you want?”  

“We’re going to ransom you, of course,” the woman coos in a sickeningly sweet voice. “For our Tsunami-chan.”

Katsuki’s eyes widen in realization. Tsunami. The anarchist villain he apprehended no more than 30 minutes ago. She had some sort of earthquake quirk, levelled an entire city block before Katsuki managed to get to her. He got injured too, but emergency services were backed up, media was being a bitch and he’d been so fucking tired he decided to head back to his agency instead of waiting at the scene.

His own damn fault. Otherwise these two-bit extras would never have gotten the jump on him.  

“That’s the fucking dumbest shit I’ve ever heard,” he growls venomously.

“Don’t be like that,” the woman says, stretching her fingers out towards him. Katsuki would bristle but he can’t even move a single muscle. He mentally prepares himself instead. “This isn’t going to hurt. We’re just going to make you easier to carry.”

Her fingers make contact, and Katsuki feels a swooping sensation start up in his gut, like he’s free falling. It makes his head spin, his guts churn, his eyesight gets blurry and it hurts, his bones hurt—

“He’s so cute!”

When Katsuki opens his eyes, it’s to come face-to-face with the man’s boots.

He’s not holding me anymore , that’s the first thought that strikes his  Katsuki’s mind. He tries to get up on shaky legs—but somehow he can’t. The world tilts and turns blurry as he falls. He’s still on all fours, he realizes. Still at eye-level with the fucker’s shins. Something’s not right.

“Awwww Ground Zero-san! You make an adorable puppy!”

He’s a dog, he’s a fucking dog!

His mind’s still reeling from the realization. Dog-quirk girl’s got him tucked tight under an armpit—fucking gross, dipshit clearly never uses deodorant— and they’re taking the bus. Like regular old civilians. She’s chatting a mile a minute, taking the time to coo at Katsuki every now and again.

The humiliation burns. Him, the Number Four Pro Hero, turned into a fucking dog. He’s going to be ransomed. He swears the first chance he gets, he’s gonna explode both their faces straight to hell for making him go through this.

She makes a kissy face at him and Katsuki snaps his jaws at her, growling. Piercings lets go of the overhead handle to touch him again, to immobilize him. He’s having none of it though. If these assholes think Ground Zero’s gonna make this easy for them, they’ve got another thing coming! Katsuki moves his muzzle away, jerks in her hold—

And that’s when the bus jerks to a sudden halt. The girl jerks forward too, her hold on him loosens, the man’s hand touches her shoulder instead—and Katsuki’s got the reflexes of a Pro, so of course he takes the opportunity to jump away.

“Hey! The dog!”

He doesn’t think, there isn’t any time—he runs, stumbling and uncoordinated on stubby little limbs, through columns of human legs forward to where he can see the doors of the bus sliding open—and then he’s out.

He doesn’t stop. The adrenaline burns through him, forcing him forwards. He has no idea how far behind they are, he has no idea where he is, the world looks like an acid trip from down here but he can’t stop. Getting recaptured is not an option.

He runs until his lungs burn, until the ache that’s been building in his body ever since the fight with Tsunami overcomes him. He has just the presence of mind to try to find a shadowed corner on trembling limbs...and then his vision goes dark.

“Oh geez little guy...what happened to you? Must have been hell of a fight…”

Something soft touches his ear, just the lightest breeze of a touch. Katsuki tries in vain to open his eyes but all he can manage is a crack.

“You look well-groomed though, you can’t be a stray. I’m sure your owner misses you…”

Katsuki tries to say something, preferably ‘ I’m not a fucking pet asshole’ but all that comes out is a pathetic little whimper.

“...I probably shouldn’t be doing this but...you look like you need the help.”

He feels himself being lifted up and suddenly he’s pressed against something incredibly warm, something that smells fresh and familiar...and...and...

Katsuki’s swaddled in something warm and soft when he wakes up, his head full of cotton. It takes him a moment to remember why his whole body feels like garbage and when he does, he shoots up like a bullet.

Unfortunately, his legs get caught up in the blanket and he tips forward. (Just how many times is that gonna happen, anyway?) The blanket goes over his head, and something even heavier seems to settle over that.

Katsuki is trapped. He yowls, unintentionally, but it comes out of his mouth anyway and the sound makes him pause. No human vocal chords. No human mouth. Experimentally he yowls again. Fuck that sounds pathetic. He tries once more at a lower register, and this time it comes out like a bark.  

He must have been kicking up a hell of a fuss, because he can hear footfalls hurriedly padding into the room.

“Ah! Little guy!” That doesn’t sound like Piercings or Dog-Quirk, but that’s only marginally reassuring.

The heavy weight on top of him gets lifted, someone picks him up under his arms(paws? legs?) to bring him up to their face and Katsuki freezes, suddenly stunned.

Two realizations hit him at once. First, his eyesight is shot to hell. Everything’s weirdly muted, in shades of dusky yellow and gray. And second, the face staring back at him right now, with a blinding grin...he knows this face.

Deku, he thinks, stupefied. Deku, he tries to say but of course it comes out as another pathetic dog noise.

The man in front him barely seems to have changed since middle school. Sure, Katsuki’s eyesight’s like a bad Instagram filter right now, but the important features are still the same. Wild hair, big eyes, spotty face. That soft, reassuring look.

“Awww, are you in pain? You hurt yourself really bad, you know? Slept through the vet too,” Deku says softly. “C’mon, let’s get you your meds.”

He tucks Katsuki under an arm and that’s when realization number three hits him: he’s a tiny-ass dog. Wonderful.

Deku carries him over to the bathroom and sets him down on the sink, giving Katsuki his first chance to look at himself in the mirror.

He’s...still blonde. Still red-eyed. And, he has to grudgingly admit, stupidly fluffy except where he’s missing patches of fur with bandages on his back. From the fight, when he’d briefly been pinned down by debris. It looks much worse as a dog. Oh, and he’s a pomeranian. Fantastic. In the one small corner of his brain that’s not freaking out over his appearance, his situation, fucking Deku—he thinks he would have preferred to be something else. Like a Rottweiler maybe. Or at least a pitbull. Not a living ball of fur.

Deku finally pulls out a pill bottle from the medicine cabinet and holds it up to Katsuki triumphantly. Fuck no, he thinks, backing up against the counter as he watches him shake out a few pills. He’s not really a dog, he has no idea what those pills will do to him.

But then again, his human anatomy can't be all stuffed into this little body, so his insides have to actually be, Christ, canine right? These meds are obviously for dogs but— Actually, fuck that noise. He’s not taking mutt meds. He’s been in worse scrapes and hurt far more badly, he can take the pain.

There’s no way Deku’s making him swallow those. Katsuki’s hind legs start tensing as Deku advances. The other man (the only man, he notes despairingly) notices. “Little guy,” Deku says warningly, a steely determined look in his eyes that Katsuki still recognizes after all these years, even if it’s missing the characteristic tears.

Here’s Katsuki’s realization number four: pomeranians are an all-bark, no-bite kind of breed.

“Good thing I got you checked out for rabies,” Deku mutters wryly as he surveys the scratches littering his forearms. Katsuki, still incensed that he lost the match against him, doesn’t even deign him with a look.

After force-feeding him dog pills, Deku rechecked his bandages and settled him in a large basket stuffed with a pillow and blanket—what Katsuki had gotten stuck under in the first place. Then he settled himself on his own bed with a laptop and the muttering had commenced. From what Katsuki can hear, he’s surfing hero forums. Once a nerd, always a nerd, he thinks, and tries not to name the emotion he can feel tightening his chest.

“Hey, you’re someone’s pet, right? You have to be, with the way you look. I should put out a post so that your owner comes to pick you up.”

Katsuki ears perk up immediately. Katsuki’s no one’s pet and the last thing he needs is Piercings and Dog-Quirk finding him. Between those two and Deku, he’d rather take his chances with Deku...Then again, without Dog-Quirk how’s he gonna reverse this bullshit? Fuck.

Deku keeps rambling to himself. “That said, you don’t have a collar. I don’t have enough space for a dog in this apartment, though. And if you keep making noise my landlord’s gonna kill me. But you are so cute,” he sighs dramatically. Katsuki tenses, then forces himself to relax. Dog-him is cute. Right. And it goes on, Deku debating the pros and cons of keeping a dog until at last the muttering peters off. When Katsuki realizes how quiet it’s gotten, he glances up to see Deku slumped on the bed, asleep.

Stupid nerd. He’s going to ruin his posture sleeping like that. Katsuki kicks off the blankets Deku so carefully tucked him in with and jumps onto the bed. Deku looks peaceful in his sleep, face slack, lips slightly parted. That tight emotion starts up in his chest again.

Growing up...he’d been a shitty kid. He’d had...okay he’d had some major attitude problems, he can admit it now. And the one who’d borne the brunt of those attitude problems is the man in front of him right now.

Deku had...he’d just made Katsuki so mad. He’d been weak and Katsuki had hated weakness. But he’d still somehow managed to make Katsuki doubt himself at every turn, make him think less of himself at a time when Katsuki’d assumed he was at the top of the world.

It wasn’t until Katsuki made it to UA, until he met people who were just as strong, just as dedicated and skilled, who all wanted to be heroes for so many different reasons, that he was forced to re-examine his views. He likes to think that he’s better now. A less shitty person.

And he’s thought of Deku since then. Katsuki isn’t good with all this emotion bullshit but he’s thought about Deku enough to recognize regret. He’s wondered what he might say if they ever met again...if he could ever explain . If Deku would be the same. And now the universe dropped him into Deku’s lap as a fucking dog.

Fucking hilarious. Katsuki looks back over at his basket with its rumpled blankets and then at the space beside Deku’s head, where there’s a perfectly good pillow right there.

Fuck it, Katsuki decides. He’s had the world’s shittiest day: a fight with a villain, getting quirked into a dog by yet another villain, escaping, blacking out, and getting picked up by his biggest childhood regret who’s now making him overthink everything.

He deserves a break. He plants himself down on the pillow next to Deku’s head and goes to sleep.

For someone who insists that he definitely can’t keep a dog, no sir, impossible, Izuku’s certainly prepared. In the morning he seems amused by the fact that’s Katsuki’s migrated to his bed, but warns him not to try it again. Then he makes himself breakfast and gets out some dry dog food  in a dog bowl with a paw print on it for Katsuki.

Which he absolutely refuses to touch. Dog pills were bad enough, nothing short of the threat of starvation is gonna make him put dog food in his mouth. He keeps his jaws stubbornly shut, growls and snaps at Deku when he approaches. Thankfully this time Deku needles him for a bit, then relents and, after a quickly mumbled google search of ‘can dogs eat cheese’, gives him one of his omelettes.

“Picky little guy,” he smiles fondly, and Katsuki’s hit with a ridiculous urge to jump up into his arms. He tamps it down viciously.

After that Deku leaves for his job and Katsuki’s left alone in the apartment. With nothing better to do, he takes to exploring.

The apartment’s positively tiny, but packed to the brim with so much stuff. It's a good thing Katsuki is as small as he is or he would never have fit in it. There’s a kitchen and living room combo, a single bathroom and bedroom and a balcony that may as well be a window box. And that's it.

There are posters of All Might on the wall—of course there are—and action figures and plush toys stacked on the shelf above Deku’s desk. He could almost roll his eyes. Still, it makes him feel fond. He remembers when they discovered that All Might would be their teacher; the first thought that had crossed his mind was ‘Deku would have flipped his shit ’ (then he’d hated himself for still thinking of that nerd).

As Katsuki peers up at the parodies of the familiar grin, something on the topmost shelf catches his eye. That’s not All Might paraphernalia. He jumps up onto the bed to get a better look, cursing his monochrome sight. He squints up at the merchandise from his new vantage point and abruptly realizes why it looks so familiar.

That’s not...Ground Zero merch, is it? He thinks he can see something shaped like grenades, another small thing that could be an action figure. But it can’t be, there’s no way. Deku wouldn’t go out of his way to buy merchandise of Katsuki of all people. Not with...the sort of history they have. He has to get a closer look. To be sure, he tells himself, although he can’t explain why it’s so important to him that he confirm Deku collects his merch. But like most things he doesn’t want to deal with, Katsuki pushes this to the back of his mind and instead plans out his route.

He leaps onto the desk first, then onto the bottom shelf. The next part is trickier. The shelf is just a bit wider than his whole body. Gently, he nudges one of the mini-Mights off the shelf so that it lands on the desk, then uses the free space to scramble onto the next shelf and then the next until he’s at the top, looking at a giant couch pillow shaped like his head. It’s resting between two other grenade-shaped pillows. There are two little scowling figures too, one plastic and one a plush toy.

That’s...not creepy at all.

Deku collects Ground Zero merch. The discovery makes him feel warm for some reason, weirdly elated and embarrassed and awful all at once. Which is fucking stupid because he’s never cared about merchandising at all in the first place, usually leaving it at his agency’s discretion.

Katsuki moves forward, intent on examining the figures more thoroughly when the shelf creaks ominously. Katsuki swallows, looks down. Suddenly, he realizes that he has made no plan at all about how he’s supposed to be getting down.  

Experimentally, he edges near the corner and the creaking intensifies into a sudden snap. He has just enough time to bemoan the fact that he’s not a cat before the right edge of the shelf is sliding down, taking all the merch and Katsuki with it.

His toenails scrabble for the purchase on the polished wood but it’s futile. Stuffed Ground Zeros go flying and Katsuki realizes something else that should have been obvious from the start: Dog-him doesn’t have his quirk.

Katsuki squints his eyes shut, bracing for impact—except he lands with a poof on something soft. He flails for a moment, stupid tiny dog legs kicking in the air, before managing to sit up. God bless grenade pillows, he thinks with relief, when he sees what caught him.

When he looks up though, all his relief turns immediately to dread. The top shelf’s hanging on the wall on its left side but the right’s collapsed onto the shelf below it, making it look like a ramp. Some of the Doll-Mights have been knocked over, and absolutely all of the Ground Zeros are on the ground.

A hot mix guilt and shame and, unbelievably, fear , curls up in Katsuki’s gut, and before he knows it he’s ducked underneath Deku’s bed, paws over his eyes.

He can’t look at this mess. Deku’s gonna be so mad. So fucking pissed. He’s gonna kick Katsuki out. Wait a minute. Katsuki removes his paws. No he’s not. If there’s one thing that he can be sure hasn’t changed since middle school, it’s that Deku’s still the biggest pushover in the world. If he can’t talk himself out of keeping a stray he found, he won’t talk himself into getting rid of Katsuki.

...Right?

Well, it’s not like he wants to stay with the shitty nerd anyway! He needs to be figuring out how to get home and human . If Deku kicks him out, he’ll just have to...find another human he could potentially figure out how to communicate with. In an animal pound. Where people are probably used to animals doing dumb shit. Right.

Ah damn. He puts his paws back over his eyes. The universe couldn’t have dropped him on Nedzu?

Katsuki doesn’t realize he’s fallen asleep until a very loud “OH MY GOD!” snaps him awake.

Oh shit. Deku’s home. Katsuki debates coming out from under the bed.

“Little guy? What did you do! Oh noooo. Where are you?”

He sounds stressed, almost frantic, and Katsuki knows he should get out from under the bed. Carefully, he peeks his head out.

“Oh my god! You awful dog!”

Katsuki immediately tries to duck back under but strong arms grab his shoulders and haul him out.

“Bad boy! Awful, naughty boy!” he exclaims once Katsuki’s safely cradled in his arms, completely unaware of the hot flush of embarrassment his words have caused.

It was a fucking accident, okay? He snaps his jaws at Deku in irritation, who of course, doesn’t understand.

“ Nasty , angry boy,” Deku narrows his eyes. “You don’t get to be angry with me , little guy. You’re the one who pulled all my Kacchans down.”

Katsuki gapes, Deku keeps talking. “Oh and poor All Might too. What were you thinking anyway? You’re not a cat, you can’t climb things like that! You’re so small, don’t you know a fall from that height could kill you?”

Deku puts him down on the ground to pick up the pillow head. “Poor Kacchan, mauled by a dog,” he says mournfully as he fluffs it out.

Realization number fucking-whatever.

Deku still thinks of him as Kacchan.

Deku doesn’t eat the rest of the night. He takes the time to set out a bowl of kibble for Katsuki with a murmured, “Knew I couldn’t handle a dog.” But beyond that he doesn’t make any mention of getting rid of him, just busies himself with reassembling his shelf.

Kibble is fucking disgusting, but Katsuki manages a few bites anyway. No reason to tip the scales in favor of the doggy pound. Deku’s surprisingly resourceful (not that surprising, his mind helpfully supplies) and he fixes the shelf himself armed with a power drill and plaster. Then he starts painstaking restacking it.

When the clock hits eleven and the damn nerd’s still muttering apologies to his All Might bobble-heads, Katsuki decides enough’s enough. He bites on the edge of Deku’s pants legs and tugs as hard as he can.

Deku yelps and stumbles backwards, one hand going to his waist to keep his pants in place. Katsuki pretends he didn’t see the flash of red, white and blue. His already fragile sanity couldn’t handle it if he got confirmation that Deku has All Might underwear.

“Little guy—”

Katsuki barks at the bed meaningfully. When Deku raises his eyebrows in surprise, Katsuki nods at the clock on the wall and barks again.

“...I want to say you’re a smart dog, but smart dogs don’t make messes like this.”  

Oh bring down a nerd-shrine once and suddenly everyone’s a critic.

Katsuki clamps his jaw on the trousers and tugs again, this time even more viciously. No one calls Dog-him stupid and gets away with it!

“Hey, no! Bad dog! Bad dog! Let go!”

In the end, Katsuki manages to drag the damn nerd to bed, who mostly follows out of fear of losing his trousers to Katsuki’s teeth. Once in bed, Katsuki makes no move to get down.

“Oh no,” Deku says. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Yes , Katsuki asks himself. The hell are you doing?

But he doesn’t want to get down, that’s the thing. Not at all. He thinks he might lose it if Deku makes him get out. So he bares his teeth and dares him to.

“Don’t give me that! You don’t get to break any more rules! Oh, wait. I didn’t really give you any solid rules...but no, I definitely said no more bed-sharing! And anyway, naughty dogs don’t get nice beds and—did you—did you just roll your eyes at me?”

Katsuki meets Deku’s flabbergasted look with what he hopes is an unimpressed one of his own and digs himself into the blankets deeper.

Deku blinks, then sighs. “You know what? I’m tired. And possibly seeing things. Just don’t pee the bed.”

Katsuki howls in indignation.

Deku oversleeps on Day 2. He finds time to make them both omelettes again (weird that he doesn’t try the kibble again at breakfast) and shout out a hurried, “No climbing things, no breaking things, no climbing out the window, no—no being a bad dog, I mean it this time—”

Then he’s gone.

And Katsuki’s left alone again.

Yesterday was a total waste. He didn’t manage to get anything done.

(Except find out that Deku collects his merch, Deku is a fan, Deku’s still the same soft-hearted nerd, Deku still says Kacchan.)

But today he’s got a plan. Before leaving, Deku had hurriedly scribbled something down at his desk. And that’s how Katsuki noticed the notebooks piled there.

The lack of opposable thumbs is a pretty big fucking problem but Katsuki’s adaptable. He just needs to hold a pen in his mouth and an open page. How hard could writing be something be?

It doesn’t take much for Katsuki to jump onto the desk and nose one of the notebooks open. It takes some scrabbling with his paws but he manages to find a blank page. This poses his next problem: all of Deku’s pens are fucking capped.

Fucking neat-ass nerd, he thinks viciously. Couldn’t have left a marker uncapped.

He considers what to do for moment. Using his mouth’s out, if he accidentally chokes on a cap, he’ll die in this apartment as a dog with no one ever the wiser. Not fucking happening.

In the end he tips the penholder over and rolls one of the pens between his paws. Trapping the capped end under one paw, he tries to shove it off the pen. After a few fumbles, the pen shoots out suddenly and lands straight out the window. Katsuki blinks. Well. At least it's doable.

With the next one, he makes sure the pen end is facing the desk.

But that just brings up problem number two. Dogs don’t have lips. Or maybe they do but they’re different enough from human lips that Katsuki has no idea how to work them. Fuck.

Gingerly, he tries to pick up the pen with his mouth, but the damn thing keeps sliding off to the side. Do dog mouths really have to be so damn wide? He tries to grip the pen as best as he can using his front teeth only and write something on the note, preferably ‘Hey I’m a human hero get me to an agency’ —except the pen slides across the page way farther than Katsuki intended.

Katsuki stares at the wide sloping mark on the page. This… this is going to take a while.

Twenty notebook pages, an inkspill in his mouth, and innumerable little bits of paper stuck to his nails later, Katsuki’s sitting on Izuku’s bed, fuming. He’s too furious to even be guilty like yesterday. No, Katsuki’s just super fucking pissed.

Shitty dog body. Shitty fucking villains. Stupid Deku.

When Deku enters his room this time, he does peeks around the edge of his door like he’s expecting another calamity. His gaze lands on his desk and he groans. Katsuki refuses to feel guilty this time. He absolutely refuses. In the grand scheme of Katsuki being trapped in a dog’s body for-fucking-ever, Deku’s notebook is a pretty small casualty.

“You know, I was just asking my boss today whether I should keep you and he said that I needed the company. Then I come home to this. My notebook,” he says the last part softly, almost mournfully. Katsuki’s ears ring.

(Hero Analysis For the Future #13

‘Hah? A quirkless loser like you—’ )

“Well,” he says, and dumps the book into the basket without fanfare. Katsuki’s eyes widen. It feels wrong, to see Deku just throw it away like that. Deku used to be a hoarder. He’d never start a new one until the old one was finished, he’d wear his pencils down to stubs before using new ones.

“You’d have a terrible time at the pound, I think,” he continues, flopping down onto the bed beside his bed, unaware of Katsuki’s shock. “Everyone else would probably return you within a day. I’m the only idiot who’d keep you, so I guess that makes you mine, huh?” he says and his tone is cheerful but again, it sounds so wrong. His smile looks so...so…

... Rueful.

And Katsuki realizes what’s wrong. He has never, not once, heard Deku be like this. He would be embarrassed, he would flinch or try to downplay Katsuki’s anger but when push came to shove, Deku would still try. He would still raise his hand and say, “I want to go to UA too” no matter how much he averted his eyes in self-consciousness.

Why does this Deku sound so resigned ?    

Deku sighs, a heavy, forlorn thing, and despite himself, Katsuki shuffles over and presses his nose to Deku’s shoulder. He smells like coffee and ink and soap, a thousand times sharper than Katsuki ever remembers these scents being. Deku stretches out a hand and idly scratches behind his ear, eyes somewhere far away.

“Well,” he says, voice suddenly forcefully chirpy, “I got you something, little guy. I figured you’re going stir-crazy in here.”

He rummages through his backpack until he retrieves a ball, a bone-shaped chew toy and a fucking Ground Zero plushie. The fucking gall.

“Since you liked the ones on the shelf so much,” he explains with a grin. The fucking audacity.

“Come on, give it a try?” he prodded, holding out the ball. Katsuki resolutely turns up his nose because abso-fucking-lutely not. Deku throws the ball lightly, so that it just reaches the doorway of his tiny bedroom but if Deku thinks Katsuki’s going to play fetch, he’s wrong.

Katsuki refuses. But there’s a tingle running up his spine at the sight of the ball, just lying there, near the door. Wouldn’t take much, to just pick it up and return it to Deku. Wouldn’t take much at all.

But he’s got no reason to be doing that, he tells himself.

“...Little guy.”

Except this idiot beside him, sounding like someone had just thrown his last Mini-Might into a dumpster fire.

Katsuki gets up, ignores how weirdly excited he feels, and trots over to the ball. Putting it in his mouth is out of the question, he’s still got some dignity left fuck you very much. So he just uses his nose to roll the ball over to Deku who’s watching him with a bemused grin on his face.

“Weird dog,” he scratches under Katsuki’s chin. He leans into his hand for moment before jerking back with a growl, suddenly remembering himself. Deku’s expression grows even more bemused.

“You know,” he says slowly, “You remind me of someone I used to know. He was prickly, like you. And he used to destroy all my stuff too.

“I think it’s time I gave you a name, little guy. How about I call you...Kacchan?”

Chapter Text

A few problems pop up in the days following his christening. Problem Number One is that Deku starts dog-proofing his house. This means that he moves his desk from below the shelf and locks his notebooks in the drawer. Potentially ‘dangerous’ shit in the kitchen gets moved to the high cabinets. And the asshole always takes his laptop to wherever it is that he works, so he can’t even type out a message, fucking great. And while Deku does sometimes turns on the TV while he works in the kitchen, Katsuki can’t figure out how the TV’s gonna be any help to him.

Desperate and running out of options, Katsuki tries to forcibly commandeer Deku’s laptop on the fourth day while he’s working on it and deletes some mile-long rant about All Might straight off his nerd forum.

Izuku is incensed. “You awful puppy, Kacchan” he hisses though his teeth, then retreats through the bathroom, the only place anyone can have any peace in this tiny-ass apartment. And Katsuki? He retreats back under the bed. He doesn’t even know why he does it, he just does. He stays there until Deku retrieves him later at night with soft apologies and tucks him in bed beside him.

Problem Number Two is something that shouldn’t be a problem at all but somehow still is. Problem Number Two is that Deku keeps calling him Kacchan. And he responds to it, how could he not? It’s a painfully familiar instinct that feels like it’s ingrained into his bones. But at the same time, the sound of that name falling so fondly from Deku’s lips feels like ice on his skin. He doesn’t...he doesn’t remember the last time he heard that nickname in that tone.

(Kacchan! Please! Why do you have to be so mean—)

It’s the worst. Katsuki begins to think that, quite possibly, he might be trapped in this apartment forever. Which is un-fucking-acceptable. So enough’s enough. On the fifth or sixth day (somehow he’s managed to lose count, goddamnit), Katsuki decides to make his escape.

Deku’s shitty-ass apartment has no air-conditioning, so the window in Deku’s bedroom is always cracked open. Katsuki’s been using it...to do his business because somehow Deku seems to have forgotten about that part of having a pet. Which is fucking fine. That’s one hit Katsuki doesn’t think his ego could survive.

The point though, is that that window leads to the fire escape, and the fire escape leads to freedom. By now it’s obvious that communicating with Deku is out but if he can just get to a hero by himself then...he can do something. Anything would be a step up from this. Kibble is actually starting to taste good, for fuck’s sake.

When Deku leaves that day, Katsuki doesn’t waste a single minute. He leaps out the window and onto the fire escape with a clank. One thing Katsuki’s found in his late night excursions is that steps are instinct for humans, but huge for stupid little dogs with four feet. He can manage, though. It’s easier now, in the daylight. As borderline monochrome as his eyesight is, things are still clearer  than at night.

When he reaches the bottom of the fire escape, a new problem appears. Now that Katsuki’s actually trying to orient himself on the street, the perspective’s...too damn off. He has to crane his neck to understand anything of what he’s seeing. Man. What are pomeranians even made for? Didn’t humans domesticate these little shits to hunt?

Katsuki tentatively takes a few steps forward, trying to determine exactly where in the city Deku lives. There are indistinct shapes in the distance that not even squinting can help him see. But still, moving forward’s gotta take him somewhere, right?

He starts walking down the path. The humans in the area thankfully don’t seem to pay much attention to him, small mercies. He stretches out his senses, straining to find a familiar marker down the road, hoping his dog senses will somehow help him when—

Wait. The hell’s that?

Katsuki sniffs the air cautiously, a foreign, unpleasant smell filling his nose. He can feel his hair puffing up around him, some sort of strange warning. He raises his head. A villain?

“Mrrrraaooo.”

His head snaps to the right. There’s a cat sitting on the fence there, lazily swishing his tail back and forth. Eyes bright and narrowed and trained on him. He narrows his own eyes in reply. “Mrrrrrawww,” it purrs again.

Don’t do it, he begs himself. Don’t you dare fucking do it.

The cat stands up suddenly, hind legs tensing up. Katsuki has one final blissful moment of clarity where he thinks ‘ Oh God, no.’ And then he pounces.   

Cats, Katsuki thinks sourly as he licks his scratched-up paws, came straight out of the devil’s anus. He should have known.

Katsuki chased that fucker over what felt like half the town only for the feline menace to get away scot-free. Which is stupid because he doesn’t even know why he did that! The cat didn’t do anything wrong. Scratch that, even if it had, that’s still no reason for Katsuki to go chasing after it like a—like a—

Cold dread trickles into his stomach.

Like a dog. Fuck.

No. No, no, no, don’t think that.  

He forces his mind onto a more immediate concern which is that he’s lost now. Perfect. He’s exhausted, he’s hungry, he just wants…

“Kacchan! How did you get out?”

He stands up suddenly, sharp barks escaping his mouth. Familiar hands encircle him, cradling him to a warm chest. He can hear Deku’s heartbeat under his ear, and subconsciously, he presses closer. Deku starts walking, looking down at his muzzle. How can he be looking and walking at the same time? Katsuki hates his perfect human coordination. “You’re a block away from home! Did I leave the door unlocked? Ahhhhh, how could I have been so careless?”

A block. He’s travelled a fucking block. If Katsuki were anyone else, now’s about the time despair would settle in. As it is, despair’s held at bay by Deku’s sharp gasp.

“Oh no! Oh no, oh no, oh no! I can’t believe I forgot, I’m the worst!”

Katsuki blinks up at those big eyes, baffled by how suddenly watery they are.

“I forgot dogs need to be walked!”

Deku’s bathroom doesn’t have a bathtub, but he does have a bucket which he fills with warm water. Then, carefully peeling back the bandages on his back, he drops Katsuki into the bucket. He can’t even protest; the water feels damn good.

The wounds on his back feel like they’ve mostly healed by now, especially with Deku diligently feeding him puppy pills every night. Even if they hadn’t, he knows he has an unusually high pain tolerance. Still, it feels nice. How gentle Deku’s hands are.

Deku rubs the water onto his fur, and Katsuki closes his eyes. Not because he likes it or anything. It’s just humiliating, okay? He’d rather have as few memories of this as possible. Everything’s quiet for who knows how long. Just the sloshing of water and Deku’s hands on him. Then he speaks.

“I’m sorry, Kacchan” he says softly. Katsuki opens his eyes to find Deku’s head bowed and eyes downcast. What the hell? “I’m being a bad owner, huh? I swear I read up on having a dog! It’s just that I’ve been so busy lately. Hospital’s laying people off and I’m picking up extra shifts everywhere and…” He lets off a heavy sigh.

“I’m actually surprised they kept me.” And there it is again. That weird rueful look. It pisses Katsuki off. What is Deku anyway? A doctor? Nurse? He snaps his teeth at Deku who has the audacity to laugh.

“I’m sorry though,” he continues, seriously, this fucking nerd, apologizing to a dog. “That’s no excuse, you deserve better. I promise I’ll be better, so don’t go running off again, okay, Kacchan?”

Katsuki can’t believe it. This absolute dumbass. The hell’s he apologizing to a damn dog for? Deserve better? Katsuki’s done nothing but make messes for Deku since he showed up. And yeah sure, dogs aren’t supposed to understand jackshit, so they do need to be taken care of, but a crappy dog like him deserves to be kicked out already. And here Deku is. Apologizing.

Katsuki, since the very beginning, has never been able to understand this guy.

Izuku hums under his breath, some show tune he doesn’t recognize before finally lifting him out of the bucket and towelling him off.

“How about it, Kacchan? I’ll take you out to a walk tomorrow. An extra long one, even. Is that okay?”

Katsuki’s tail starts wagging. It’s because a walk means that he can finally find clues to where he is and find a way to get home. Obviously. That’s why he feels excited. That’s it.

“...By the way...I can’t believe I didn’t notice. How exactly have you been doing—”

Katsuki howls as loudly as he can, to drown out the rest of that question.  

The next day fucking Deku doesn’t take him for a walk. He comes home early, sure—maybe he took a half day at work—and Katsuki loiters around the doorway meaningfully (anxious, not excited, fuck you brain) but Deku doesn’t pay him much attention at all. Instead he seems harried, stuffing papers into a file as he rushes around.

Katsuki narrows his eyes, raises a paw to slowly scratch down the wooden door. Deku glances up at the noise and the look on his face grows even more miserable.

“I’m sorry, Kacchan,” he sighs. “I know I promised but,” he holds up the file, “I gotta go to the insurance office for my mom. It shouldn’t take long, though! I can walk you afterwards! Oh, but it might be dark afterwards...Then again, this isn’t a bad neighbourhood. Plus you’d protect me, right?” He hits Katsuki with a blinding grin, impervious to the rising queasiness his words have caused in Katsuki. He feels...fuzzy inside.

Katsuki shakes his head to dispel the feeling and instead starts barking at Deku. What does he mean he’s going to the insurance office? Okay, Katsuki gets what he means. But still. Katsuki needs this walk. He needs an out. He’s got a suspicion of what’s happening to him and he would like to human again before he needs to confirm that shit.

“Bad Kacchan!” Deku scolds as he makes his way to the door. “No, no, later. Okay? I promise, later?”

Quick as lightning, he makes it out the door before Katsuki can follow him. And he’s trapped again.

Katsuki could scream. The rage boils in him, makes him feel like he could explode. And usually he would but this stupid body won’t do anything right. He starts pacing, agitated. He makes his way towards the bedroom, only to find that the nerd’s learned to lock the bedroom window. Fantastic. Katsuki really is going to scream.

How dare Deku? How dare anything, actually. How dare this happen to him of all people? He needs to do something to relieve this tension inside him, making him feel like he’s going to vibrate straight out of his skin.

Maybe he could eat a pillow. Or the Ground Zero toy. That’d teach Deku. Katsuki glances around, trying to find a suitable target when his eyes catch on something under the table.

Shoes, he realizes upon further investigation. Old and worn and Katsuki’d bet his eyes if he could see in color, that they’d be red in color.

A sudden wave of nostalgia rushes over him. He doesn’t know what color shoes Deku wears now and somehow that thought hits him hard.

He lets his muzzle brush against the soft, well-worn material, closing his eyes. It makes him feel...weird. He can’t describe the feeling. Like something’s gone soft in the centre of his chest.  There isn’t much of a scent left on them aside from dust. Deku probably keeps them out of sentiment.

Katsuki opens his eyes with a sigh.

And abruptly realizes that he’s chewing on the toe of one of one the shoes.

He shrieks, spits it out and scrambles backwards as fast as his legs will carry him, knocking over a chair in the process.

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck—

Heart hammering in his chest, Katsuki looks at the shoes in horror.

It hits him then. No more denial.

Oh my fucking God. I’m turning into a dog.

Deku comes back at fuck-o’-clock and peeks into the bedroom door to check for damage as he usually does. This time all he finds is Katsuki lounging morosely in bed. When Katsuki hears him approach, he glares balefully.

Fucking Deku. Fucking shoes.

“Sorry, Kacchan,” he scratches behind his ear. “I’ll fix up a sandwich, then take you out. How’s that sound?”

Please. Fucking please. He needs out of this nightmare. Before he loses his mind.

Katsuki sticks around on the bed, feeling too petulant and anxious to get up. He keeps one ear on the noises Deku’s making in the kitchen, the TV running in the background.

That’s when he hears the sudden noise.

Katsuki may be a dog now but he’s still a Pro Hero dog, okay? So when he hears the crash of a plate, a soft choking gasp coming from the living room, he’s immediately on the move.

He comes running haphazardly into the room, not even bothering to smother his barking this time, but when he gets there, nothing’s out of place. Nothing except Izuku with his hand over his mouth, eyes watery, staring at—

Oh.

Staring at Katsuki. On the TV screen.

There’s a report on Tsunami’s villain attack from a week ago. The cleanup, a list of damages. And Ground Zero’s picture, front and centre.

“...Pro Hero Ground Zero reportedly sustained severe injuries during the fight and has been missing in the week since the villain was taken down. His hero agency officially announced him missing earlier today while previously keeping the situation under wraps…”

“Oh…” Izuku makes another choked little sound and Katsuki tears his eyes away from the screen, from the life he’s been apart from for so fucking long, to look at Izuku stumbling onto the couch on shaky legs. “Oh,” he says again, and the tears really do come down on his face this time.

Katsuki’s gut twists. Fucking hell . Fucking crybaby Deku. What does he have to cry about?

This is Katsuki’s life. It’s Katsuki’s life that he’s missing out on, yipping around this apartment like a deranged mutt. It’s Katsuki’s friends being interviewed on live TV having to keep stoic faces. It’s Katsuki who’s slowly losing his mind to stupid canine urges.

So what does Deku have to cry about? Why the fuck would he even cry about someone he hasn’t seen in years, someone who tormented him and made his life hell.

...Someone who doesn’t deserve it.

And suddenly, it’s unbearable, watching Deku cry. Katsuki growls, the mix of emotions inside him forcing him to do something, anything— so he jumps forward and bites down on the hem of Izuku’s trousers, a well-practiced motion by now, and tugs.

He may as well have been invisible for all the attention Izuku gives him. He tugs again, harder, and this time Izuku, eyes still glued to the TV, leans down and scoops him up into his arms.

He runs his hands absentmindedly over Katsuki’s fur, gesture familiar and soothing by now, but Katsuki refuses to be soothed— can’t be, not when Izuku’s tear drops are still falling wetly on his nose.

Across the room the newscaster drones on about his life and his accomplishments, as though he’s already dead, as though the rest of the world’s just given up on him . A fucking obituary. That’s what it sounds like. He can’t listen to this.

Katsuki wriggles out of his grasp and snaps up the remote from where it’s lying on the couch before spitting it out as violently as he can on Izuku’s lap. When Deku’s startled gaze meets him, Katsuki growls meaningfully, ears twitching.

Izuku picks it up soundlessly, then switches off the TV.

“You’re one strangely smart puppy, you know that?”

Katsuki yips. He knows but who knows how much longer that human intelligence will last? Katsuki burrows back into Izuku’s arms, back into his warmth. Stupid dogs and stupid dog instincts. No wonder dogs care so much. Izuku resumes stroking down his back. He doesn’t speak for a while, and Katsuki feels his jitters die down, feels himself falling into a doze. Here, he can forget about what the news has just reminded him: that he’s trapped in a foreign body with no way out.

“I used to know him, you know.”

His voice startles Katsuki out of his stupor. His ears perk up.

“I used to call him...Kacchan. Like you,” he says, voice impossibly soft. “He was just this kid from my neighbourhood. He wasn’t very nice to me...but he was my first friend.”

Katsuki doesn’t want to hear this. He does not want to hear this. Except he does.

“Actually, Kacchan was a pretty big bully. He used to pick on me a lot. Because I’m quirkless, you see? Deku, he called me.”

Izuku picks him up under his front legs so that they face each other. Up close, Katsuki can pick out the freckles on his face, can see the puffy rims around his dull eyes.

It’s such a pitiful picture, it should make him mad. But it doesn’t. Instead, Katsuki simply can’t believe he’d ever taken pleasure at making Deku cry.

“He was right,” Izuku says, and laughs. A shaky, watery, horrible sound. “Quirkless and useless.”

Katsuki freezes. What. The. Hell. That’s not— Izuku’s not supposed to say that. Katsuki’d said it plenty of times, back when he’d been a fucked up kid and an asshole but Izuku’s not supposed to agree. Izuku is—he’s supposed to get back up and smile like the nerd he is. Izuku’s not supposed to—to—give up —

As if he can hear his thoughts, Deku continues. “I really did try . Even All Might thought I couldn’t be a hero but I thought...I tried…to help in other ways. I got a degree in medicine. Top of the class, even. But you wouldn’t...you wouldn’t hire a quirkless kid when there are people who can heal with a touch or with X-ray eyes or— or whatever...So there wasn’t really a place for me.”

He doesn’t want to hear this. He doesn’t, he doesn’t, he doesn’t, he—

He has to hear this.

“So here I am. Deku, the pharmacy technician. It’s not where I wanted to be but at least it pays the bills right?”

Izuku hugs him to his chest again, high up enough that he can bury his face in Katsuki’s fur. Katsuki melts against him, mind still numb with Deku’s confession. He feels as if they’re suspended in a bubble, just the two of them tucked into a cocoon against each other, the only sounds being that of Izuku’s breath against his fur and the thump-thump-thump of Izuku’s heartbeat against his ear.

Deku. I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.

“Maybe Kacchan was right but stupid as it is, I haven’t given up…” Izuku murmurs quietly. “I haven’t...I’ll get there some day. Where I want to be...just like Kacchan made it to Number Four…and I know he wouldn’t just die without making it to Number One.”

“Kacchan,” Izuku says, “has always been my image of victory.”

Izuku is probably the biggest fucking enigma Katsuki’s ever met in his life. How can he talk about how shit his life is, how shit Katsuki made his life then turn around and wish him well in the same breath?

He makes no sense. His image of victory? He makes Katsuki so damn mad. They fell asleep on the couch together after Izuku’s speech and right now his whole face is making Katsuki mad, smooshed against the arm of the couch as it is, making his cheeks look even pudgier. There are tear stains there too. Fucking crybaby.

Katsuki wants to do something to that face, like maybe dig his claws in to punish Deku for crying over stupid things. That sounds like a good plan. Definitely better than licking the tear stains from his squishy cheeks. Katsuki’s not going to do that. He’s not.

...Ah fuck it. Katsuki opens his jaw wide and scrapes his tongue across Izuku’s cheeks. Izuku’s face twitches in his sleep, nose wrinkling. Once is enough, Katsuki tries to tell himself, but the itch under his skin won’t be curbed and before he knows it he’s doing it again. And again, and again, until the nerd cracks an eye open in bleary confusion before laughing out loud.

“Kacchan! You’re awfully affectionate today!”

He bites on Izuku’s collar and pulls harshly at that, just to prove to himself that he hasn’t completely lost his touch.

Izuku yelps, then dissolves into laughter once more. “Okay, okay I get it! You’re still a terrible dog.”

While Izuku ambles towards his room to get dressed, Katsuki sits down on the couch and tries to wonder how the hell his life came to this. These instincts are getting worse and worse everyday, and he still has no idea what to do or how to turn himself back. And Izuku’s...not helping matters. He doesn’t know what to think of yesterday, of Izuku’s soft confessions, except that it sheds a whole new light on his childhood...not-friend.

The tiny apartment, the lack of any visitors or calls, the heavy cloud that hangs around him sometimes.

The thought of it makes guilt and frustration settle in his chest like lead. Izuku...he deserves better than this, he can freely admit it this time.

Despite that, Katsuki still doesn’t want to feel this way, especially not because of someone who’d disappeared from his life so long ago. He doesn’t know what to do with this feeling. A part of him hopes that when he becomes human again, he can leave and he won’t ever have to look Izuku in the face again. But he already knows that it’s not going to happen.

He can’t...he can’t let Deku slip through his fingers again.

The banging of pots and pans in the kitchen brings him back to himself and he jumps down from the couch to make his way there. Izuku’s in shorts and an oversized T-shirt, humming a show tune to himself as he cracks open an egg on the frying pan. The sight of it relaxes him somehow, makes something indescribably fond well up inside him.

He walks up to Izuku’s ankles and nuzzles him before he can stop himself. Izuku drops his spatula in surprise.

“You really are affectionate today,” he says, bemused, stooping down to ruffle his fur. “Is it because you’re worried about me? You don’t have to be,” he insists, even though his smile looks sad. “I’m really fine.”

Katsuki whines lowly, resting his head on Izuku’s knee. Izuku tilts his head with a soft smile. “You know, I’m really glad I decided to keep you, Kacchan.”

And then he leans in and presses his lips to Katsuki’s nose.

Before Katsuki realizes what’s happening, there’s a swooping feeling in his gut, like the drop from a roller coaster— and suddenly he’s flailing, limbs uncoordinated and clumsy, tipping backwards and landing on his ass.

His suddenly very human, very bare ass.

For a moment, he just lays back stunned. Then he slowly raises his hands to his face. Fingers. Fucking human fingers, five of them on each hand and probably the most beautiful thing Katsuki’s ever seen.

A manic laugh bubbles out of his throat. He’s back! He’s finally fucking back! He pushes himself onto his elbows— only to come face to face with a stunned Izuku, still on his knees in front of him.

“...Kacchan?”

Shit.  

Sitting on Izuku’s dining table, in pants that hang over two inches off his ankles and one of Izuku’s trademark oversized hoodie (he’d wisely refused a shirt),Katsuki has a lot of explaining to do. He owes Izuku that much at the very least.

Here’s the thing though— Dog-O-Vision hadn’t done Izuku a lick of justice. Fucking at all. He’s so painfully bright in color, head full of messy forest green hair, eyes a darker shade of the same color, tan skin freckled with brown. Katsuki can’t stop staring.

“You got hit by a quirk, right? It has to be. I mean why else would...uh that happen?” Izuku mumbles, eyes averted. Katsuki jerks out of his thoughts. Of course. Deku's always been smart as hell, no wonder he’s figured it out.

Katsuki clears his voice gruffly. “Yeah,” he manages and his voice sounds so awkward. “Forced shape-shifting. Villains jumped me when I was, uh, coming back from work.”

“And you were...umm, cognizant? The whole time?”

Katsuki swallows the lump against his throat. “Yeah,” he reluctantly admits.

Izuku nods in understanding but he still won't look at Katsuki. After having his undivided attention for so long, it's unbearable. Katsuki has no idea what he's thinking. Well actually, the discomfort on his face and Katsuki’s own mortification gives him some idea. He’s been desperate to be back in his own body for so long—it feels fucking divine , to be able to sit up straight, to see in colour, to look Izuku in the eye—but ending up ass naked in Izuku’s kitchen isn’t how he’d wanted it to happen.  

But still. But still. The humiliation aside. He wants Deku to look at him.

“Look, Deku—”

“It must have been a very disorienting experience for you Bakugou-san!” Izuku says hurriedly and the name is so unfamiliar to Katsuki from Izuku's lips that he almost reels back in shock. “You—You need to contact your agency, the world needs to know you're alright! And—and  of course you need to recover!” Katsuki watches Izuku fumble around before holding out his phone. “Here, you can use my phone to call whoever you need to, I don't mind. I unlocked it for you. But I need to get to work soon, I haven't got any more sick days left—”

“Deku I—”

“And you're a Pro Hero! I’m sure you're capable of handling yourself so, I’ll just leave you to it!”

Katsuki barely has time to say anything as Izuku rushed out the door, out of his own apartment—still in his shorts and T-shirt. Katsuki’s knows by now that he’s not the most emotionally aware person, but even he can read this room.

He tries to ignore the disappointment curling in his gut, the feeling that he's messed up irreparably. After all, none of this was his fucking fault to begin with. He didn’t ask to get transformed or to end up here, he reminds himself fiercely. Instead he picks up the phone and types in the one number he has memorized.

“Hey, Shitty Hair.”

There are  tears when he gets back home, Jesus Christ.

It takes a while on the phone, trying to explain to Kirishima exactly what happened and how and no this isn’t a fucking trap, he knows their code words and he’s not using them so would he ping the cell phone’s location and get his ass here already?

Kirishima practically tackles him bawling when he bursts into Izuku's apartment with Kaminari and Sero in tow to find that it really is just Katsuki sitting like an idiot on Izuku’s couch, and not a trap set up by a villain. He even brings Katsuki a spare change of clothes like he asked, thank God.

After the briefest explanation Katsuki can manage, they take him straight to the hospital despite his protests, where they meet up with Ashido and Uraraka. Both the girls, despite being made of infinitely stronger stuff than either Drooly, Shitty Hair or Soy Sauce, glomp him too and get teary-eyed while they’re at it. Even fucking IcyHot (who isn’t even from Bakugou’s agency) shows up in the middle of his patrol to squeeze his shoulder and tell him he’s glad Bakugou’s not dead in a ditch somewhere.

If Katsuki’s honest, he's reeling at this reaction, has no idea how to deal with it. He knows they care, of course he does. He’s known since their first year. They were probably worried sick and he appreciates that too. But he feels so fucking wrung out, wrong-footed and exhausted. He just wants to sleep.

Of course, these idiots won’t leave him alone until they know exactly what went down. It starts as soon as the doctor leaves his room, telling him he’ll have to stay overnight just in case the quirk has had any adverse effects.

(The doctor also asks if he knows what reversed the quirk and Katsuki thinks Deku kissed me and says Absolutely no fucking clue. It’s better. To just assume that the quirk had simply run its course, than to deal with...That.)

It starts with Kaminari, of course it does, asking, “So what kind of dog were you anyway?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Ashido looks like Christmas came early. Uraraka looks intrigued. Sero’s grin stretches from ear to ear. IcyHot is impassive but Katsuki just knows the asshole is making fun of him on the inside.

“Fuck you,” Katsuki growls. “The hell does it matter, I’m back now aren’t I?”

“So a poodle then?” Todoroki says, apparently either catching on or playing along; quick on the uptake but an asshole to the end.

“Fuck you, no, it was better than a poodle!”

“But worse than…?”

Katsuki grits his teeth. He’s spent three whole-ass years with these losers, he knows what they get like. He’s not giving them jackshit or he’ll never hear the end of it. He won’t .

The problem with that line of thinking though, is that after all these years all his friends know that he’s an all-bark, no-bite kind of person too.

The jokes don’t stop for almost a week afterwards. It almost drives Katsuki up the walls.

“You should take a paws, Bakugou, you’ve had a ruff time,” says Kirishima when Katsuki comes in to work the next day.

“Damn Bakubro, you’re looking pretty fur-rocious,” says Kaminari when they take down a villain together.

“You should have given a clearer press statement, the media will keep hounding you ‘till you do,” says Ashido on his sixth day back.

Katsuki blows up a table, then a filing cabinet. They still don’t stop.

And God, Katsuki can’t focus . It’s stupid, but every time he hears them bring up the Dog Thing, his mind goes straight back to Deku. His stupid tiny, apartment with the nerd-shrine. His habit of cooking omelettes with too much cheese and singing in the shower and getting randomly excited over nothing. The way he filled the space with his white-noise chattering, the way he smelled like coffee and ink, how warm and solid he felt.

...Fuck, he misses Izuku.

He’d known. He’d just known he wouldn’t be able let Izuku go.  

Izuku doesn’t seem to be having the same problem though. He knows who Katsuki is now, he knows where to find him. Isn’t the rambling nerd curious at all? Doesn’t he want to know what happened?

...Doesn’t he feel this heaviness in his chest the same way Katsuki does?

Actually, he shouldn’t, Katsuki thinks ruefully. Not for someone he’d known only as a bully and a crappy dog. Katsuki would think that Izuku doesn’t care at all now that he knows who Katsuki is, except he knows Izuku does.

He feels listless, like he left something unfinished. And Katsuki hates doing things by halves.

So on Saturday, Katsuki takes the bus back to Izuku’s place.

It’s almost surreal, walking up the flight of stairs Izuku’s old-style apartment as a human. What looked freakish and daunting, impossible to navigate as a dog, looks so absurdly normal as a human that Katsuki almost feels like an idiot for not trying to escape more than once. Then he remembers the shitty cat.

Izuku’s door is plain and unadorned and Katsuki has to pause before it with his hand raised to knock, heart in his throat. Don’t be an idiot, he tells himself. You just want to clear the air.

He knocks roughly. Faintly he can hear the muffled sounds of someone approaching the door from the other side which culminates in a soft ‘eep!’ Presumably Izuku looked through the peephole. Katsuki waits for the door to open but nothing happens.

“Deku,” he slams a fist on the door, nerves frayed. “I know you saw me. You’ve never been a coward in front of me before, so don’t start over something dumb like this now.”

The door cracks open then to show Izuku, and Katsuki’s breath catches. The nerd’s got dark circles under his eyes, and damn, is his hair ever going to behave? But the expression though. He’s got a defiant look on his face now. Familiar and foreign all at once.

“I wasn’t,” Deku tells him firmly, jaw set. “Is there something you needed Bakugou-san?” Katsuki winces.

“Look,” he says, then stops. Katsuki’s good at strategizing, but not at planning. His plan was ‘go to Deku, explain’ but now he’s not sure what he’s supposed to be explaining. “Look, I just wanted to say I’m sorry about—about this whole shitshow, you didn’t—”

“I get it!” Deku holds up his hands suddenly, expression melting off into an even more familiar frazzled look. “I mean—I read the press statement on the paper, it’s not like you asked to be umm, quirked into a dog. Well, you didn’t mention the dog thing but that’s not the point. Anyway,  it was my own fault really, now that I think about it, you were trying to tell me weren’t you? I didn’t notice—”

“No, shut up, that isn’t it,” he interrupts. He wants to mean that Katsuki’s sorry for everything in their past, not just the trouble he’s caused this week but Izuku flinches. His hands come up to his chest, uselessly wringing the strings of his hoodie and Katsuki has to stop short. Unbidden, he’s reminded of those hands rising in defence, clutching notebooks to his chest in the same manner.

“Look,” he starts again, almost desperate. “I just—I don’t want to leave it like this alright? I came here to say that I’m sorry. And...thanks..for you know, not kicking dog me out. I know I was being a pain in the ass.”

Izuku’s face gets even more pinched. “It’s—you’re welcome, of course Bakugou-san,” he mumbles. “It’s fine, really. But umm, I’d rather we not talk about it anymore. We should just...put this behind us…

“I mean, it can be a pretty funny story!” He grins awkwardly, running a hand through his wayward hair. “To tell your friends at Christmas or something.”

Katsuki snorts. Fat chance. They’re already never going to let it go, Katsuki’s not fucking contributing to it. “Don’t worry,” he rolls his eyes. “I’m not going to tell anyone about your nerd shrine to me and All Might.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Katsuki instantly knows that it was the wrong thing to say. Izuku’s face, which has been portraying his usual anxiety throughout this whole conversation, completely closes off. The sight of it feels like a blow to Katsuki, leaves him floundering for what to say.

“Right,” he laughs again, a hollow sound. “Of course, you wouldn’t. Now that that’s settled I really don’t think there’s any reason for us to linger. Good luck with your life and goodbye, Bakugou-san.”

“What? Wait, Deku—”

The door shuts in his face, a clear, final dismissal. This time, Katsuki knows that no amount of yelling or goading will bring Izuku back out again.

Katsuki’s never been good at compartmentalizing, so of course these shitty, garbage emotions boiling inside him bleed all over all his work. The rest of the agency starts giving him a wide berth.

During a mission in a collapsed building—well, Katsuki doesn't perform badly because he’s worked too hard and come too far to fuck things up for himself now, but he’s snappish, irritated, blows up things with ten times the frequency he usually does.

When he makes a snot-nosed brat cry hard enough that he accidentally pricks Katsuki all over with his porcupine quill quirk though, that's when the rest of his team decide to put their foot down.

“Dude,” Kirishima says seriously as he watches Katsuki pat at the tiny, itchy purple pricks in his skin. “Dude, you’re making a bad impression.”

The paramedic on the scene, who Katsuki had unwisely called an extra just a while ago, snorts loudly.

“Fuck off,” he tells her. “And you too,” he adds at Kirishima. Kirishima looks even more disappointed in him.

“We gotta talk.”

Back at their agency, Sero’s the first to complain as he throws himself onto an chair. Kirishima plants his ass on the table beside him.

“I can see the headlines now,” Sero gripes. “Ground Zero returns from hiatus, makes babies cry, turns purple. More on page 10.”

Katsuki glares at the Sero, then at the dots on his arms which are indeed turning purple. Fucking bullshit quirks. Why couldn’t people have simple things, like shooting laser beams out of your eyes?

“No one expects me to be a babysitter anyway,” he grits out. And it’s true. Different heroes are marketed differently, no one ever expected Katsuki to be the family-friendly type. Katsuki’s market is what Kaminari had once affectionately dubbed, ‘Those guys that get mad at you if you use items in Smash.’ Kind of a long moniker but Katsuki’s never cared. Fans are not the reason he’s doing this anyway.

“This is a problem,” Uraraka says, eyes narrowing. “We’ve worked really hard to set up our own agency, Bakugou. You’re Number Four now, and that’s great, but we’re still new at this. Appearances matter. Our work ethic and image matters. And—” She glances at the rest of them.

“We’re worried about you,” she admits softly. “Look, I know we were...we were kidding around a lot. But we didn’t think to consider how your experience with that quirk affected you. We should have. So…if there’s anything you want to say...”

Some rigid emotion in his chest deflates at their words. His shoulders slump downwards. God, these assholes. Why do they fucking care so much? Why did they teach Katsuki to care? It’d be easier if he could brush things off like water the way he used to, unaffected, instead of holding all this guilt and regret inside him.

(Easier, but so much worse.)

“This is totally an intervention, by the way,” Sero tells him, flat and without mercy. “But we know you’re as emotionally constipated as they come so like...How about we give you some space?” He gets up and walks towards the door, glancing at him meaningfully. Uraraka follows, closing the door behind him. Kirishima doesn't move. Katsuki keeps looking at his splotchy wrist.

“Shitty Hair.”

“Yeah?”

“...I think I fucked something up.”

Kirishima rests his elbows on his knees, patient, while Katsuki tries to articulate his thoughts.

“The apartment you picked me up from…the guy who took in Dog me...it wasn't some random-ass extra. It was...Deku.”

He’s thought about Izuku a lot in the past. But he’s only ever talked about it once, when they were all drunk off their asses post-graduation, and only to Kirishima.

“Deku? You mean that kid you umm…”

“The kid I bullied the shit out of, yeah!”

Kirishima holds up his hands placatingly. “Okay,” he says. “Okay, that’s uh, that’s—”

“It’s stupid, is what it is,” he rubs a hand over his face, exhausted. “He’s...God Kirishima, he’s the same . Still a nerd over hero shit, still...so good . He named me, Kacchan. Dog Me. Said that’s who I reminded him of. There was a news report on the TV about me going missing and he cried over me.”

“...Awww jeez man, Bakugou.”

“I went over to his place on Saturday,” he powers through, because these words are only ever going to come out of him once. That’s how it always is with him. “To fucking apologize. For everything. I did a shit job of it apparently though. He slammed the door in my face.”

Katsuki doesn’t look at Kirishima, concentrating on the growing purple stain on his wrist. He doesn’t want to look at the pity he’s sure will be in his eyes.

“...Okay, yeah. I get why that hurts, man. But you gotta admit, like...he doesn’t have to forgive you, y’know. I mean I’m not the best about this sort of stuff but I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works.”

“I know that!” He bursts out, slamming a fist over his table. “You don’t think I know that? But he cried over me! Before he even knew who I was. So obviously, he still thinks of me. He told me—he told me shit. About his life. And, what, now he wants to pretend that shit never happened?”

A quiet spreads over the room. Katsuki still can’t bear to look at his friend, or give voice to the most important realization he’s had so far: He’s the one who can’t pretend what’s happened. He wants Izuku back in his life.

He sighs. “Forget about it—”

“Maybe,” Kirishima starts slowly, frown between his eyebrows. “That’s the problem.”

“Hah?”

“What I mean is,” he continues. “You know all this shit about him right? I mean you practically lived with him for like, a week or something? You must know a lot about his life. Probably a lot of stuff he wouldn’t want anyone finding out. Like the crying thing. But uh, you did. So maybe he’s embarrassed about that?”

Katsuki stares.”What the shit? I was his fucking dog. I ate his shoes. If anyone has anything to be embarrassed about its me.”

“You ate his shoes—okay,” Kirishima hurries on, perhaps sensing the storm incoming. “Okay but like, he doesn’t know anything about you, right? I mean think about it, your uh, bully from when you were a kid, knowing all that private shit? I’d be mortified. You guys are just...not on the same page. You get me?”

Katsuki keeps staring, fists clenched. His palms feel itchy.

“Uh, Bakubro?”

“...I need a fucking drink.”

Kirishima gives him an uncomfortable, knowing look but maybe he gets that Katsuki’s quota for emotional garbage is done for the day. Time to pack it up and come back tomorrow.

“Sure, I’ll call Denki then, tell him to bring over the light stuff?”

Katsuki grunts, still running over Kirishima’s words. Despite having Hair-For-Brains, he thinks, Kirishima can be surprisingly smart sometimes.

Following the crappy pattern set, two things become apparent over the next few days. Thing Number One is that the purple won’t fucking go away. He’s had to go to the doctor and get a cream. Fucking again. Thank God nothing rhymes with purple.

Thing Number Two is that while his issue hasn’t been dropped exactly, the others have backed off a little and Kirishima apparently thinks that he’s learning to let it go. Hah! Fat chance! Katsuki’s never let anything go in his life and he’s not going to start with this.

...Well okay, he can. He will...if he has to. If that’s what Deku wants. But not yet. Katsuki wouldn’t be Katsuki if he gave up without trying his damndest first.

He’s come to realize that Kirishima’s probably right. Katsuki’s only ever...confessed anything about himself to Kirishima once. That too while he was drunk off his ass and he’d threatened Kirishima to never bring it up on pain of death.

For Izuku to have unknowingly talked about his struggles with being quirkless to Katsuki of all people. To have had Katsuki witness his daily life and weird-ass habits...He guesses that it’d be the equivalent of if he’d confessed to Half-n’-Half that night instead of Kirishima. Or worse, that Copy-Cat asshole from Class B.

(It doesn’t feel good, to compare realize that he might be worse to Deku than what those two are him. But it is what it is).

But. But Katsuki has a plan. Sort of. He’s spent more than a day thinking of it so it’s gotta count for fucking something right? Anyway the point is that if Izuku’s problem is that Katsuki’s and him have never been on the same page, then Katsuki’s gonna put them on the same goddamn page and hope that it’s enough. And if after that Izuku still doesn’t want anything to do with him...well. He’ll cross that bridge then.

Katsuki knows that Deku works as a pharmacy technician—which, what the hell? Katsuki had to google it to find out what that meant and yeah, that’s a total waste of Deku’s talent. He might not have seen the guy since middle school but he’d always known, deep down, how talented the kid was.

(Just one of the many, many reasons Katsuki had felt so threatened as a child).

Nevertheless, ‘pharmacy technician’ and ‘Midoriya Izuku’ are a lot to go on and as the Number Four Pro, he’s got access to plenty of resources. It doesn’t take much to track Izuku down to a hospital downtown.

He tries not to feel like a stalker as he loiters around the entrance of the hospital. It’s not creepy, he tells himself. It’s not creepy. It’s not...it’s a little fucking creepy okay, but so what?

Katsuki has to see this through. One last time. He has to. He never does things by halves, and this has been sitting on the shelf for too long already. No more wondering what he could-would-should have told Izuku. Today he’s going to know.

With a deep breath, he pushes open the door open and heads to the reception area. From there, he can see the hospital pharmacy where Izuku’s supposed to be working. Filling out prescriptions, what a fucking joke .  

The girl at the reception, young and obviously inexperienced, does a double take when she sees him. He thinks, for a moment, it’s because she recognizes him. Then as her eyes rake over him, he understands that it’s because he’s still purple. He grinds his teeth.

“Sir, do you have—”

“Midoriya Izuku,” he barks out, then points. “Works over there. Tell him to come the fuck out.”

“Sir,” she says. “I really don’t think—”

He slams down his license in front of her. “Hero business,” he lies through his teeth. Heroes don’t even have the authority for this. Investigations and interrogations are strictly off-limits barring certain circumstances. But they’ve all learned that the public rarely cares about shit like that. The girl’s eyes widen, then narrow. “Is he in trouble?”

What? Of course it wouldn’t be that easy when it comes to Izuku.

“Look, sir, Midoriya-san wouldn’t be involved in any funny business,” she starts, surprising Katsuki with her sudden earnestness. “Honestly—”

“He’s not...in trouble. He’s just...a witness, that’s all,” he says. The girl glances over him again, uncertain. “I promise,” Katsuki adds.

The girl worries her bottom lip for a moment before leaving her position to call Izuku. It leaves Katsuki alone with his thoughts, turning over her unexpected protectiveness.

A friend? More than that? Or maybe she’s just someone who just feels drawn to Izuku the same way Katsuki seems to be lately.

(It’s a wonder, how no one ever stepped up to protect the damn nerd when they were younger. No one ever stepped up to protect anyone except Deku himself—)

“Bakugou-san?”

Katsuki startles out of his thoughts to come face-to-face with a dumbfounded Izuku. A dumbfounded Izuku whose expression was rapidly turning to tired resignation. Damn. Is everytime he sees Izuku in color from now on gonna feel like a punch to the gut?

“One conversation,” he rasps out, tongue like lead. “Then I’m outta your hair forever,” he promises. “But there’s some shit I gotta say and there’s some shit you gotta hear. Okay?”

“Bakugou-san…” He repeats, exasperation coloring his tone.

“Please, Izuku.”

Izuku reels back in shock, blinking rapidly. Katsuki wonders what he’s thinking. “Okay...okay um, let’s just. Go over there. Get this over with.”

He leaves the girl hovering nervously behind him to lead Katsuki to a deserted hallway to the side, wringing his hands together the whole while. Katsuki looks at the harsh fluorescent lights, the open corridor and thinks no fucking way. So he grabs Deku by the arm and, ignoring his yelp, throws him into the door labelled ‘Janitor’ to the side.

It’s dark inside but not dark enough that Katsuki can’t make out Izuku’s face. Good enough, he thinks through the ringing in his ears. Good enough.

Izuku’s face starts getting pinched again.          

“Um, you’re purple, Bakugou-san. Is that a rash? Are you here to fill out a prescription?” Izuku says, discomfort mixing with bewilderment on his face. That’s fucking hilarious because if he was, he wouldn’t have dragged Izuku here into the supply closet now would he?

Katsuki swallows against the dryness of his throat. Now or never, he tells himself but the words won’t come out of his mouth. He feels like a deer caught in the headlights, except the headlights happen to be the possibility of Izuku never wanting anything to do with him again.

“...Bakugou-san?”

“I’m purple,” he forces out. “Because I messed up during a rescue mission and ended up making a little brat cry and activate his quirk. Which turned me purple. Two quirk-related fuck-ups in one month, what a record.”

 The self-deprecation feels sour and foreign in his mouth, but he can feel something easing in his chest nonetheless, can feel the truth of it ringing in his head. Izuku looks even more surprised if possible, eyes wide.

“I hate that, by the way,” he continues over the thundering of his own heartbeat. “Fucking up. I can’t stand it, makes me wanna tear my own hair out. But I’ve fucked up so many times anyway. That dog-shit’s just one more thing in a long-ass line.”

“Um—”

“Firstly,” he continues because he knows that if he stops, he won’t ever be able to start again. This is a one-time thing. It always is. “I can’t cook apparently. I’ve given everyone in my class food poisoning at least once because those wimps can’t handle the spice. And uh, and I can’t drive.”

“Umm, what?”

“I can’t fucking drive. Failed the test three times. Too much road rage or some shit. My last instructor pissed his pants and that’s when I decided to call it quits.”

“Okaayyy…” Izuku looks desperately like he wants to escape right about now. Katsuki understands exactly how he feels but unfortunately for the both of them, the damn nerd’s just gonna have to stay put ‘til he’s finished.

“I can’t hold my liquor either. First time I got drunk was after graduation, I ended up in a fountain with my clothes on backward. My best friend took me back home and I ended up telling him shit I never meant for anyone to know. I hate that it happened. You wanna know what I told him?”

He can see Izuku’s throat working. Wordlessly, he nods.

“I got kidnapped. In my third year, by some wannabe villain league. Don’t know if you heard of that, the school kept it hush-hush,” he swallows hard, because this is the hardest part to get through right here. “The leader had a quirk that let him vaporize anything he touched with all five of his fingers. He’d keep three fingers on me whenever we talked.” He brushes his hand over the back of his neck, where his hair is buzzed short thanks to his undercut. Despite everything, he can’t bring himself to tell Izuku the reason for this: the fact that he couldn’t stand the feeling of his hair there, an eerie reminder of Shigaraki's feather-light touch. Or that he had to have his gauntlets redesigned to be lighter because he hated having anything that heavy hanging from his wrists ever again.

“They kidnapped me, because they thought I’d make a good villain,” he gives an empty, choked laugh. “Can you fucking believe it? Me, Bakugou Katsuki, a villain? They had a bullet pointed list and everything. I told them to go stick it where the sun doesn't shine.”

“Kacchan…” The sudden return of the familiar nickname feels like a breath of fresh air in his lungs. But Katsuki doesn’t dare raise his eyes to look at Izuku now.

“But Kirishima though. I told him that maybe they had a point. About the whole villain thing. ‘Cause of the way I am, see? ‘Cause of the way I treated you, our whole childhood. I’ve thought about that a lot. Wasn’t very fucking hero-like of me, was it?”   

He takes a deep shuddering breath. It’s quiet, in the office closet. There’s nothing more to say.

“Kacchan,” Izuku’s voice breaks on the word. Katsuki steels himself, raises his eyes to find—sure enough, Izuku’s crying again. Fondness swells up in his chest again, like it always seems to now whenever Izuku’s involved. Stupid crybaby.

“I—Why are you telling me this? Why—why are you here?”

“...This is me making things right,” he says. “I was a total shit to you, growing up. Believe me, I know that . And I know that I’m the last person you’d ever want finding out about any skeletons in your closet. So this is me putting us back on the same footing. Making us equals. In the embarrassing garbage department.

“You don’t have to ever see my face again if you don’t want to after this,” he promises even as his stomach turns over. “But this is me saying sorry, Izuku. I’m so fucking sorry. For the shit I pulled when we were kids, for finding out all your personal business this past week, for everything. You deserved better, you still deserve better and I wanna—”

“ Kacchan ,” he bursts into a sob then and Katsuki only has his hero reflexes to thank when Izuku practically throws himself at him. Katsuki’s own arms come up automatically to rest gingerly on Izuku’s back. And it feels stupidly exhilarating, to be able to hold Izuku like this. Like some missing part of him’s finally slotting into place after years.

Weird, he thinks as he inhales. Dog-him had an extra sharp sense of smell, but somehow, he can still pick out the coffee and ink as a human anyway.

“Kacchan,” Izuku mumbles against his neck wetly. “Kacchan, you ass. You don’t know—you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.You could have just started with that, I can’t believe you. You’ve always been such an awful drama queen.”

“I’m not a fucking drama queen!” Katsuki bristles instinctually but then his heart twists. “Shit. Uh, I mean you should have heard it sooner. And I—”

Izuku leans back to put a finger over Katsuki’s lips. “Don’t,” he laughs through his tears. “Let’s just...not. This is just...too much, way too much. Apology accepted, okay?”

Izuku’s finger lingers over his lips as they stare quietly at each other, arms wound tight. God he’s never taking color for granted again.

“Will you…” Izuku’s voice catches, trembling. “Do you want...to be friends again, Kacchan? To start over?”

Un-fucking-believable. Somehow he hadn’t expected that, but he knows he should have. Only Deku could be like this, so childish but so earnest nevertheless. Only he could let things go like this. Too fucking good and pure but Katsuki’s not going to look a gift horse like this in the mouth.

“...What, you think I aired out my dirty laundry like that for nothing? I’m...Starting over...sounds good.”

Colored purple and emotionally exhausted and in a crappy hospital supply closet with Izuku’s arms still around his neck, cheeks blushing red and lips curled into a stupidly hopeful smile, Katsuki has what is potentially his last realization from this whole dumpster-fire-dog-disaster.

With Izuku in his arms, he doesn’t really regret any of it all that much after all.