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Chapter Text

While Katsuki loves hiking and passes an opportunity to, he admits the brief transitional period between summer and autumn is the worst time to hike. The weather starts up deceptively tolerable, but always ends up being too warm and unbearably sticky. 

The humid weather summons all the fucking mosquitoes. And unfortunately, Katsuki’s nitroglycerin-like sweat smells sweet, making him a giant walking mosquito attractor. 

He comes back from his hike dripping in sweat and so fucking itchy from his plethora of bug bites. 

Arlo doesn’t seem to share his woes, panting happily from the exercise and opportunity to sniff practically every nook and cranny of the trail. Katsuki had wrestled a cooling vest on the dog beforehand and it seemed to have worked as Arlo never once slowed down nor seemed to overheat. 

After his shower, Katsuki attempts to get some homework done. It’s quiet in the common room for once so he sets up his work there on the coffee table, sitting cross-legged on the floor because chairs are overrated.

He doesn’t even realize he’s scratching at the bites on his arm until Arlo shoves his snout in between to break the contact. 

“Arlo,” Katsuki grumbles, pushing the dog away, “it’s just an itch, chill out.” 

He does the opposite because he’s Arlo and Arlo is the most stubborn bastard after Deku. He continues to nose at Katsuki’s offending hand until it is far away from the bug bite, adding few disapproving huffs and grumbles to make sure Katsuki explicitly understands his displeasure.

Katsuki hadn’t been particularly bothered by the bug bites before, but now that he can’t scratch, he’s suddenly very itchy. 

He scratches around the growing welts, careful not to actually scratch it as that makes it worse. 

Arlo does not like the new game and bumps his arm rather roughly. 

“Okay, okay, I’m done, I’m done.” No use fighting with someone who can’t understand the situation. 

Katsuki returns to his work and occasionally messes with the bug bites when he thinks Arlo isn’t paying attention. And if the dog catches him, Katsuki stops before he feels the need to do something about it. 

When Kirishima and Sero walk into the common room, Arlo has taken drastic measures and has his front half on Katsuki’s lap so that he can stare intensely at the welts in case Katsuki dares to go near them. 

It’s a strange sight. Arlo is much too big to be a lap dog and elbows are the last thing one expects a dog to be hyper focused on. 

“Hey Bakugou,” Kirishima greets cheerfully, echoed by Sero. “Hi Arlo!” 

Arlo crooks an ear in their direction, but otherwise doesn’t acknowledge them. He’s usually a social butterfly while off duty; the only time he isn’t enthusiastic about his greetings is when he’s working.

Katsuki can feel the shift in the air when Sero asks, “you okay, dude? Do you want space or can we stay?” 

He bounces his leg and watches as Arlo’s head follows the motion, but still doesn’t break his concentration. With an amused puff of air from his nose, Katsuki shakes his head. “I’m good, do whatever. This fool has a bone to pick with my bug bites.” 

“Bug bites are the worst,” says Kirishima as he grabs the Switch remotes and tosses one to Sero. “Thankfully, bugs don’t really like me because of my quirk.” 

Katsuki grumbles. “Lucky bastard.” 

He stabs X’s into his bug bites with his thumb nail, ignoring Arlo throwing a fit at his blatant disregard of the dog’s efforts to keep him from messing with them. It doesn’t really help, but it’s satisfying enough. 

Sero finishes linking the remotes and looks over at him. “You should rub lemon juice on them. My mom always had us doing that and it worked great.” 

“Do we even have lemons?” 

“We have limes,” answers Kirishima.

Katsuki glances at Sero who shrugs. 

“Yeah, that’ll work too.” 

Unwilling to prolong Arlo’s distress, Katsuki nudges the dog off. He opens the bag of limes and pulls one out to cut in half. He wraps the other half to store away in the fridge (he’s not a heathen). 

He rubs the lime on the red welts on his arm, pleasantly surprised to learn that it does soothe the urge to itch. It stings a bit on a couple that he may have scratched too hard, but it goes away quickly. 

Arlo watches him warily. 

“Oh, lay off,” Katsuki tells him, “I fixed it.” He shows his arm to the dog. Arlo gives it a careful sniff, nostrils flaring at the sharp citrus scent, before turning away with a satisfied flick of his tail. Katsuki is little endeared the dog cares enough about him to protect his well being, even if it’s a bit misguided.

Mission accomplished, Arlo trots back to the common room to greet his friends. 

Kirishima gives the dog a nice scratch behind the ears. “Working hard, huh, buddy?” 

Arlo pants a little hah-hah-hah in agreement. 

Joining Sero and Kirishima on the couch, Katsuki scoffs. “No one asked him, he just made more work for himself.” 

“Aww, don’t be so hard on him,” Sero says in a doting tone. “He’s trying his hardest to be a good boy.” He strokes along the dog’s back before handing a remote to Katsuki, not even bothering to ask. 

Katsuki quickly connects his remote. “Prepare to get your asses beat, losers.” 

“Bet.” 

It becomes a class spectacle when Katsuki finally decides to wrestle Arlo into the protective boots that came with his new gear. The dog doesn’t put up much of a fight and lets Katsuki manhandle him without complaint while he struggles to slip Arlo’s giant paws into the boots. He takes care to tuck his dew claw comfortably inside so it doesn’t catch on the lip of the shoe. 

He pats Arlo’s flank once he fastens the last Velcro strap and steps back to admire the fruits of his labor. Arlo stands frozen in the middle of the room, legs awkwardly placed too far apart.

Behind him, the girls giggle. 

“He looks so cute!” Mina squeals. 

Ponytail adds, “It’s impressive that the support team even made sure to have his boots match Bakugou’s. They really do think of everything.” 

“Is he ever gonna move?” The Grape Bitch asks. 

Katsuki bares his teeth in his direction. “Give him a minute, he’s a damn dog who’s never worn shoes, of course it’s weird for him.” 

The black shepherd wags his tail when Katsuki speaks, but makes no effort to move. 

“Come on, Arlo.” Katsuki snaps his fingers a couple times. “You can do it.” 

Kirishima and a couple others start shouting words of encouragement to the dog. He soaks up the attention with shining amber eyes and an excited swish of his tail. 

Lifting up a singular shoe-clad paw, Arlo flaps it in the air proudly. 

“Yes, now actually take a step,” Katsuki says. 

Arlo sets his foot down clumsily in the same spot and picks up his other foot to wave. Only the dog quickly loses his balance and stumbles forward. Once Arlo starts going, he can’t seem to stop his momentum and awkwardly totters forward. 

His front feet curl up in a high prance and slap down on the ground gracelessly. Katsuki doesn’t even know how to describe the monstrosity that his hind limbs are doing. 

Someone snorts. 

Arlo does some funky large wind-milling motion with his hind feet like he’s become those cartoon characters whose legs are practically wheels while running. He hops forward a little in an attempt to reach Katsuki and his back end hangs in the air much longer than it should, feet flicking.

Katsuki crouches down, shoulders shaking with mirth, and welcomes Arlo into his arms. “Silly mutt,” he rumbles and Arlo presses his head against his chest, tail beating a playful rhythm. 

He stands and Arlo gathers himself enough to follow. 

This starts up a round of raucous laughter from his classmates. Arlo is still walking funny, but he’s starting to get the hang of it. 

“Listen to the tippy taps!” Uraraka says between fits of laughter. 

Katsuki steps away from Arlo so that the dog is forced to walk more. Instead of the soft patter of his paws, there’s a distinctive tap with every step. The beat is more reminiscent of a trotting horse with the way Arlo marches. 

Icyhot takes pity on the dog and scratches under his chin. “Will he be able to get around with those?” 

“With some time, he’ll no doubt adjust to the feeling and weight of the boots,” Deku answers. “Most dogs aren’t hindered by boots and wear them a lot for protection.”

Katsuki narrows his eyes at Deku, but doesn’t say anything. In this case, he came to the same conclusion as Katsuki. 

“He’s already getting used to it,” Earphones points out. 

Sure enough, Arlo is no longer wheelbarrowing his back legs. He still moves somewhat bouncy. That will come down with time. Perhaps a couple games of fetch in the boots and using them on walks would help the dog break them in. 

For now, he lets Arlo prance around, tail curled over his back like he’s pleased with himself. The others stroke him as he walks past and for his favorites, he lingers a bit longer before returning to Katsuki, all smiles and sparkling eyes. 

Katsuki returns his grin and ruffles his ears. 

“I said flour , you dumbass,” Katsuki hisses, the last tendrils of patience withering away the longer he stares at the bouquet, “the white shit you bake with!” 

Todoroki shrugs. “You should’ve gone with us if you wanted it done your way.” 

Katsuki shakes the flowers in his face and waves them fanatically towards where Iida is directing Shouji and Sato to put the giant picnic table on the courtyard. “I’m the only one here who can cook decently! If I left, there would be no food for the stupid barbecue your friends planned. It’s not that hard to grab three things from the store.” 

“The whole class agreed to it, including y—”

Someone plucks the flowers from him and slings their arm around his shoulders. 

“Don’t worry about it, ‘Roki,” Sero says, “I’m sure the girls will be happy to have a centerpiece for the table. And you—” He pokes his index finger into Katsuki’s cheek. “Chill, I’ll ask Mina to go grab what you need.” 

Katsuki grumbles, but decides it’s a reasonable solution. 

Sero heads to find Ashido and Todoroki offers to help Katsuki light the grill as his form of repentance. 

Earlier this week, Four Eyes had made a passing remark on how the recent pleasantly warm weather and clear evenings reminded him of certain evenings with his family when they would cook, eat, and play games outside to make use of the fading summer weather. 

The rest of the sappy idiots immediately fell in love with the idea and decided the class should do the same. Thus, Katsuki was wrangled into cooking as he was one of the few that could actually be trusted around food. 

It’s been a while since he’s experienced something so domestic. Ponytail and Asui wrangle a plastic tablecloth over the table, laughing as the breeze plays with the material until Sero tapes it down. In the window, he can see Deku and Kirishima passing plates and cups to Koda and Jirou from the counter. When Hagakure isn’t looking, Icyhot sneaks a couple more ice cubes into the pink lemonade. Denki is fighting with the Bluetooth speaker to connect his phone, muttering curses as it chimes and then loudly proclaims no device has been found for the third time in the last ten minutes. 

This was definitely a much needed time for the whole class to relax. It feels like they’ve all been waiting for the other shoe to drop all year since their first semester of second year has been relatively peaceful so far with the exceptions of midterms and more internships. 

After the shit show that was their first year, Katsuki thinks they are entitled to a carefree day. 

Beneath the shade of the oak tree, Arlo lays with his chuckit ball secured between his paws. He watches them scurry around like bees in a hive, tongue lolling from the side of his mouth contentedly. Occasionally, someone will stop by to give him attention, which the dog soaks up greedily, rolling over to entice any weak-resolved sucker into rubbing his belly. Arlo is impossible to resist, especially when he stares expectantly with those soulful amber eyes. 

Katsuki cranks the lever to lower the charcoal grid and closes the lid of the grill to let the meat cook. 

“Blasty-y!” Mina sings as she strides into the courtyard with a bag in hand. “I got your flour! Where do you want it?” 

Good, now Todoroki’s slip up has been fixed. “Just put it on the counter.”

Katsuki wipes sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand and then rubs it onto his apron—grilling is such a messy delight. He pries the lid off and flips the meat over. His mouth waters at the aroma that wafts in the air and the sizzle of fat burning. 

“That smells so good,” moans Pikachu dramatically, nearly sticking his face straight into the grill. 

Katsuki snaps the tongs together in front of the other boy to fend him off. “Oi! It’s not done yet!” 

Kaminari whines. “How much longer?” 

“Ten minutes, give or take.” 

Disappointed, Kaminari slinks off to go bother someone else—most likely Jirou. 

Eventually, the food and sides are done and lined up neatly in the middle of the table. It takes longer for everyone to dish out their portions, but no one minds as they’re all laughing and joking and yelling across the table to pitch in to each other’s conversations. Arlo abandons his spot to join them at the picnic table, slipping under the table to stay out of the way. Katsuki sneaks him a French fry at one point. 

“Oh! Bakugou!” Uraraka leans back in her seat so she can look at Katsuki around Kirishima. “Mina and I found bacon flavored bubbles at the store. We thought Arlo might like it, can we try it with him?” 

It’s a really nice fucking day. Katsuki feels no urge to retreat to his room at the first opening during this class event so he thinks it’s a pretty good day. So, he agrees, if only to keep Arlo happy. 

Upon seeing the rainbow-sheened bubbles, Arlo’s eyes grow impossibly wide, the orange of his eyes completely swallowed by his pupils. Uraraka gently blows a couple in his direction. 

One floats towards his nose and pops upon contact. Arlo freezes. His nose twitches furiously. And then he’s on his feet, tail thrashing and paws dancing in an excited shimmy.

He snaps up the bubbles that drift in his direction, licking his lips in amazement at the taste. 

Much to everyone’s amusement, Arlo is obsessed. The bacon-flavored bubbles are the equivalent of catnip to Arlo. The bubble wand starts to get passed around the table. 

Arlo runs down every bubble, chasing them around the courtyard and taking mighty leaps to reach the ones that try to escape into the sky. He barks when anyone takes to long to give him more bubbles. Everyone gets a kick out of watching him do some twists and partial flips in the air when the bubbles are blown above his head. 

The sun starts to sink below the horizon, bathing the courtyard in vibrant pinks and oranges. Most of Class 1-A has migrated to the grass and Arlo flops down in the middle, utterly spent and practically drunk with bliss from the bacon bubbles. He rubs his face into the grass with happy snorts and huffs. 

Katsuki pats his haunches. “Happy, big guy?” 

Arlo rolls onto his back and twists into a C-shape so he can peer at Katsuki upside down. There’s a couple grass pieces stuck to his nose and gravity tugs at his lips to expose his top row of incisors. He looks absolutely ridiculous so Katsuki laughs and scratches his belly. 

“Boop!” Deku reaches over to tap the dog’s nose. 

Arlo sneezes loudly, snot spraying. 

Both Deku and Katsuki let out twin shrieks of disgust while the people around them bust out laughing and Arlo thumps his tail proudly. 

Chapter Text

He doesn’t know what wakes him first— Arlo jumping on the bed or his own terrified screams ringing in his ears.

Even with Arlo pressed against him, it takes a bit before the noise dies down completely. Katsuki pants, breath whistling against his sore throat, and curls a hand around Arlo’s head to keep the dog as close as possible. He hates the trembling that remains after the nightmares. But there’s not much else he can do other than ride it out. So he holds Arlo and shakes, grateful that his dog doesn’t mind keeping him company during these nights. 

It’s been happening more frequently again. Katsuki is exhausted. It’s his second year and final exams are just around the corner. Between studying and training, he’s barely had any time to relax. 

Which is why these fucking nightmares are the last thing he needs.

A bone deep exhaustion settles in his chest and his eyelids are heavier than usual. Yet, Katsuki tucks Arlo under his chin and fights the pull of sleep. The only thing worse than lack of sleep is willingly letting himself relive all of his worst moments. No thanks, he’s not some sort of masochist. 

Unless he secretly is because part of the reason he’s so traumatized is from his dream to be a hero. It’s grueling work and even as a hero-in-training, Katsuki knows it isn’t supposed to be easy. There’s a reason why so many people can’t do this line of work. Despite all the childhood dreams to be a hero, most succumb to the reality that it isn’t in their future. 

Katsuki needs to work hard—he already does—in order to be the best fucking hero. 

He’s only halfway through his second year and he and his classmates have already experienced hell, each coming out of it with new scars and tainted memories—sleepless nights filled with horrific replays of terrible shit that happened, the loss of friends and mentors…

How much more will Katsuki have to break to finally reach his dream? Each day chips away tiny pieces of him, will there be anything left of him by the end? He wonders if it’ll be worth it if he’s left raw and exposed, stripped bare to his core. 

But this is what he wants. 

Right? 

The newfound uncertainty makes his insides squirm. Katsuki shoves it all into the sealed box at the very back of his mind. That’s where these fucked up thoughts belong. He knows everything will be ruined if he probes at them too much. 

Katsuki squeezes Arlo tighter. The dog senses his discomfort and licks his chin before tucking his own head into the crook of Katsuki’s neck. 

And when the sun peeks in through the window, Katsuki sighs heavily. He just wasted precious hours of sleep and wants nothing more than to stay in bed all day. 

He’s repulsed by how tempted he is. 

Who the fuck is he now? 

Katsuki is not going to be another fucking depressed bitch. He’s better than that. He will not stoop so low. Everything is fine. 

He is fine. 

It’s all in his head. 

Mind over matter and all that jazz. He hasn’t been trying hard enough. That’s why he feels like crap. How stupid of him to give into that obnoxious, melodramatic teenage shit when he let himself slip up and slack off. 

Katsuki’s gonna beat away this lazy mindset and make it wish it never reared its ugly head in the first place. 

He drags himself out of bed, stumbling only a little which Katsuki counts as a fucking win because he’s running on less than three hours of sleep and his head is stuffed full of cotton. He measures out Arlo’s food and adds a splash of salmon oil before directing the dog to his crate and setting the food down. 

Arlo crunches away at the food, tags bumping against the side of the bowl with a distinct tinkling noise. Katsuki pulls on his running clothes and heads downstairs. 

The idea of food sends a jolt of nausea so Katsuki forgoes breakfast and forces down a glass of water instead. Better than nothing, right? 

Right. 

He runs with Arlo until his lungs burn and his brain turns to mush. Katsuki doesn’t know why he’s so exhausted. He went slower than usual and with less distance too. 

Has he been too lax with his training lately?

That’s the only plausible reason and now Katsuki gets to deal with the consequences of his actions. 

He trudges upstairs to shower before class. His body doesn’t feel quite right—foreign and heavy. 

Turning the shower to the hottest setting possible, Katsuki lets himself stand under the spray, trying to force himself to wake up more. He can barely feel the heat of the water at this point. 

Katsuki sucks in a deep breath and leans his head against the shower wall. 

He doesn’t know how long he’s there. But the shower curtain moves oddly enough that it jerks him out of his hazy, syrupy thoughts. 

Arlo stares up at him. 

Katsuki blinks down at him. 

The dog chuffs. 

Oh, he’s been here too long. Katsuki shuts off the water and steps out of the shower to towel himself off. His skin is bright red and slightly tender from the scalding water. Somehow he didn’t notice before. 

Time freezes and warps, leaving odd gaps in Katsuki’s memories. It’s vaguely disturbing but he can’t focus long enough to really be concerned. It’s just a passing thought. 

By the time he checks his phone, it’s fifteen minutes into his homeroom class. 

Katsuki is never late. 

He’s never had a reason to be late. He makes an effort to get to class as soon as possible and is usually one of the first to arrive. 

What the fuck happened? 

Aizawa studies him carefully when Katsuki walks through the door, eyes narrowed, before returning to his lesson like nothing happened. No one says a word when Katsuki makes his walk of shame to his desk. He refuses to be embarrassed and avoids looking at anyone directly, chin raised. 

His teachers come and go for each class and Katsuki fights to stay present. 

He copies down the example problem Ectoplasm has written on the board, working ahead to solve it before the answer is given. 

“Bakugou.” 

“X is equal to 9.” 

“Nope!” Present Mic says, very near shouting. “This is English, not maths.” 

His classmates snicker. 

The world snaps into focus. Katsuki blinks. He’s been in English the whole time. Mathematics ended forty minutes ago. Katsuki still has his math notebook out on his desk, pencil pressed against the paper. The example problem hasn’t been completed either. 

He sets down his pencil and idly rubs Arlo’s ears. Everything around him melts away. Words and voices are a monotonous hum in the background and his mind leaves so that he’s no longer attending class but floating miles away in its own monstrous realm. 

Will this bite him in the ass later?

Of fucking course. 

Katsuki should do something about it, but he can’t muster the will to do shit.

When lunch rolls around, he manages to slip away without notice. Katsuki takes Arlo to a quiet corner on campus beneath a large tree to share the shade from the sun. He throws a ball for Arlo and lets himself fall into a rhythm. 

Throw, wait for the slime-covered ball to appear in his hand, throw, repeat. 

He’s not really seeing anything. But distantly, he hears the scrabble of paws against the dirt and Arlo’s excited pants whenever he returns with the ball. 

Sometime in between then and now, they stopped playing the game. Katsuki finds himself sitting cross legged with his hand on his knee, palm facing upward. Arlo lays in front of him, ball held securely in his mouth. He’s not panting heavily. 

Katsuki shifts to sit with his knees drawn up to his chest. He wraps his arms around them and drops his head on top. 

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” 

The words come out miserable and pathetic. He’s glad no one but Arlo is around to hear. 

Arlo makes a sympathetic, crooning whine and puts his chin on Katsuki’s knees so their noses are almost touching. 

“Any ideas?” 

He wishes Arlo can actually answer. 

Instead, he receives a slobbery kiss on the nose. 

Katsuki pats Arlo’s head and reaches over to grab the ball. While Arlo chases it down, he forces himself to get it together. He has to be at his best for his heroics lessons. There’s absolutely no excuse for a subpar performance. 

To say Katsuki is bewildered is an understatement. 

When Ectoplasm mentions passing back “the test,” Katsuki feels everything come to a screeching halt like he’s been doused in freezing cold water. 

He combs through his rather limited memories of the past two weeks and comes up blank. The air is sucked from his lungs in a shaky exhale that stirs up a dark, coiling fear. Nothing. He can’t remember anything from last week. 

Ectoplasm pauses at his desk and the silence that hangs between them makes Katsuki’s skin prickle. 

His test is given to him face down and folded.

Katsuki’s heart plummets all the way down to his gut. 

“See me after class, Bakugou.” Ectoplasm tries to be discreet, but the chatter of his classmates dies down the second they notice their teacher’s hesitation. Katsuki makes no move to grab the test— his test apparently—and Ectoplasm ends up setting it down gingerly on the corner of his desk. 

A flush of heat washes over him as a result of his classmate’s stares. Katsuki doesn’t dare look at the paper. He doesn’t need to see it to know what it says. 

Glaring through Invisible Girl's head, Katsuki grinds his teeth to bite back the oncoming torrent of… embarrassment? Anger? Guilt? He doesn’t fucking know at this point, just that the feeling burns in his chest and bubbles up against his throat like he’s fighting the urge to scream. 

God fucking damnit. 

And just like that, the numbness sets in. He stills and notes offhandedly that his body feels disconnected from himself. It doesn’t matter though. Nothing does. 

As the class period passes, Katsuki figures this is the exact reason why he failed the previous test. He can’t make out a single word anyone is saying. If he’s been called on to answer, he doesn’t. He wonders if he has been called on; if they just take his silence as an answer and move on or if Ectoplasm decides to spare him further humiliation and leaves him be. 

There are sluggish thoughts floating past in his mind, barely tangible and too flakey to truly count them as conscious thoughts. Others are not pleasant so he just hopes they go through quickly. 

Eventually, he gets tired—not a surprise, he’s always tired these days—and stops fighting to keep himself tethered to reality and goes on autopilot. It’s almost like sleeping, but with his eyes open and ten times more disorienting when he comes back. 

It’s Arlo that brings him back to awareness by rasping his tongue over Katsuki’s knuckles and resting his head on his knee. Katsuki scratches under his chin gently, gratefully. 

He remains seated until everyone has left. 

“Bring it here,” Ectoplasm instructs, “I want to go over it with you.” 

Katsuki swallows past the lump in his throat. The last thing he wants is to touch that stupid paper. Regardless, he snatches it up, marches towards his teacher, and all but throws it down onto Ectoplasm’s desk, which earns him a disapproving look. 

“Have you seen it yet?” 

The silence is answer enough. If his quirk allowed, the floors would be demolished from Katsuki’s glares alone. 

Ectoplasm draws in a careful breath and unfolds the paper. He lays it down for Katsuki to see and smoothes out the creases with more care than that stupid fucking useless test is worth. 

Katsuki stares. A big, circled ‘F’ marked in red at the top of the page stares back. There are more marks on that paper than on all of his previous tests combined. His eyes are drawn back up to the grade. It seems to pop off the page, demanding him to look and burn into his mind’s eye the mark of his failure. 

“I was surprised when I graded these,” Ectoplasm says. “Normally, you have one of the top marks in the class.” 

Rub it in, why don’t you?

His teacher clicks his tongue, voice heavy with disapproval as he sweeps on. “Half of the questions were left blank and the ones you did attempt weren’t completed beyond the initial set-up. What happened?” 

Katsuki shrugs. “I dunno.” 

It’s not a lie. He really doesn’t know what happened. But saying that he was not mentally present for the entirety of last week won’t suffice. No one would believe that. It’s just another fucking excuse. Regardless, he failed. 

“Do you understand what this means?” 

He doesn’t answer. He can’t form any words, mind filled to the brim with his no-good, terrible, failure.

Sighing, Ectoplasm shakes his head. “This low of a test score will really affect your overall grade for the class. You’re going to have to work extra hard—and I mean near perfect marks for the rest of your exams and the final—in order to bring this up.” 

The thought alone makes his heart sink. “Yeah, I get it,” he mutters. “Can I leave now?” 

Katsuki holds onto his dwindling dignity while Ectoplasm scrutinizes him for a moment before dismissing him with a tilt of his head. He snatches the test from the desk and stuffs it into his book bag with as much ferocity as possible. 

Self-loathing boils steadily under his skin. Katsuki can’t get out of the room fast enough. Arlo follows, his nails clicking against the terrazzo flooring. 

“Fuck!” Katsuki kicks at the wall and immediately regrets it. He shouts another curse, hissing and spitting like an angry alleycat. He’s so fucking pissed at himself. He just had to go and fuck everything up like he always does. He doesn’t understand. 

Why now? 

Of all times for his mind to stage a rebellion, it chooses now. Katsuki is sick of it—sick of himself.

Thinking of all the work he needs to put in to salvage his grades adds another thirty pounds to his invisible burden. He’s too fucking tired for this. 

But he dug the hole. Therefore, he’s responsible for dragging himself out. 

Katsuki digs the heel of his palm into his eyes, trying to relieve the heavy pressure. “Let’s go, Arlo,” he murmurs, straightening up. 

Arlo whines softly and leans his weight against Katsuki’s legs. Normally, the gesture is reassuring, but today he can’t feel a thing. 

They’re the last ones to enter the locker room. Kaminari and Sero try to ask him about the test, but leave him alone once they realize Katsuki isn’t going to give them an answer. The rest of them seem to have come to a unanimous agreement to not bother him after that. 

Katsuki dresses slowly. He’s slipping again. He can tell by the weird tingling in his limbs and the way they don’t respond quite right. It’s like he has to direct their every move manually. That in itself is exhausting. 

He doesn’t change out Arlo’s gear either. The effort needed is too much for him right now so Arlo will just have to sit this one out. 

Luckily, All Might seems to have toned down his crazy ass ideas and decides to be completely sane for once and have to do quickless sparring for the class period.

Time passes and suddenly, he’s brought back when Uraraka calls his name. 

Katsuki glances around. Everyone is in pairs or going around trying to find a partner. 

“Baku-gou,” Uraraka sings, leaning to catch his eye.

“Huh?” 

“Wow,” she says with a quirk of her lips, “you are like really spacey today! I asked if you wanted to spar with me. I have a couple new moves I want to try out.” She excitedly pumps a fist into the air, nearly catching Katsuki’s nose in her enthusiasm. 

He jerks his head back to avoid getting clobbered. “Sure, why not.” 

She smiles—a genuine smile that reaches her eyes and brightens up her whole face—and practically skips over to an open area. Katsuki follows. 

When was the last time he felt such pure, unadulterated joy? Sparring and hero training used to be exhilarating. He would feel the thrill deep in his bones, a certainty that said this is what he is meant to do. 

Katsuki can’t remember when it started to fade. 

Snap out of it! 

“Ready?” 

“Yeah,” he replies automatically. 

He is not ready. 

Uraraka shoots forward in a startling burst of speed, fists swinging. Katsuki reminds his sluggish limbs to move. Lean back, shift your stance, arms up, protect your face. His body follows, slow and clumsy. 

It didn’t used to be like this. Sparring used to be as easy as breathing. Sure, he did put thought into it and strategized, but there always was that innate driving force that made his senses sharp and his movements fluid. 

He fights to par with Uraraka's moves, but she’s going at him with a vicious determination that leaves him struggling to defend, nevermind land any blows of his own. Simultaneously, he battles to keep himself focused. With every pause, his brain takes the opportunity to drift and Katsuki has to reel it back into the present. 

It’s happening again, he realizes in dismay. He needs to stop. The last time this happened, he fucking failed his math test. Is this some sort of sign? That he’s not cut out for this? Is this always how it’s gonna be? 

Katsuki doesn’t know how long he’s been thinking. But suddenly, he’s being flipped and thrown bodily to the ground. 

There’s a thunk when his head hits the ground. Followed immediately by a screeching whine in his ears. Katsuki’s back spasms painfully and consequently, all the air is knocked from his lungs. 

He lays there, breathless and stunned. 

It’s too much. His mind is heavy and thick, determined to drag him down and Katsuki almost wants to let it. He’s just so fucking exhausted. Of fighting. Of trying. 

“—kugou?”

What’s the point if no matter how hard he tries, he ends up right back here? 

“Bakugou?” 

Why does he bother when the more work he puts in, the farther he falls behind everyone else? Somehow, they’re all moving forward and getting stronger while he’s sliding backwards in his progress. 

Katsuki’s breath catches in his throat, lungs stuttering. 

He really is a failure. Maybe he’s not meant to amount to anything. 

What the fuck has he even been working for? He’s been wasting all of his time on a stupid dream that was never meant to be his. 

Katsuki sits up, nearly smashing foreheads with Uraraka, who’s looking at him with wide eyes. 

He’s just as startled as everyone else when his stomach turns violently and the gag tears from his throat. He teeters off to the side on wobbly as fuck legs and dry heaves for several minutes. It hurts both his abdomen and his lungs. He’s so tempted to just jam his own fingers down his throat to get it over with. A bead of sweat rolls down his temple. Katsuki trembles, bracing himself on a post, and coughs so hard he gags again. 

Saliva drops to the ground, the only product of this stupid fucking ordeal. Embarrassment flushes hotly over him. The intensity of it makes his stomach flop around like a dying fish. 

—oh, bad description. 

Katsuki retches and shudders when his breakfast comes up tasting like acid. He pants heavily, death gripping the pole like a lifeline since he’s too exhausted to stand up straight. 

And he’s still not done. What great fucking luck. 

Just as Katsuki sinks to his knees, Arlo presses his way against Katsuki’s chest, propping him up and supporting his weight as he sags forward to retch again. The dog must’ve broken his down-stay. Katsuki is too preoccupied to be upset about it. 

He doesn’t know what possesses Arlo to stay with him. He’s absolutely disgusting right now. Katsuki rests his forehead on Arlo’s flank, the patches on his vest scratchy against his skin, and lets his eyes flutter close. 

This really is the worst time for his stomach to stage a fucking rebellion. 

Another mistake on his part. 

“You alright, kid?” Aizawa gently bumps his shoulder with a cool water bottle. “Did you hit your head?” 

“I’m fine,” he says hoarsely. Katsuki grabs the water gratefully and takes a careful sip. He forces himself to breathe evenly to avoid a repeat performance. 

Uraraka creeps up behind their teacher, head bowed. “He did,” she admits, “I didn’t think it was too hard, but he probably has a concussion.”

He doesn’t. But Katsuki doesn’t even know how to explain that his crippling fear of failure led to this disaster. Nor does he want to.

Some of the others who are closer begin to approach, asking questions. Aizawa tilts Katsuki’s head up and makes him track his finger with his eyes. He asks stupid questions like ‘what year is it?’ And ‘where are you right now?’ while Uraraka blubbers apologies in the back. 

“Can I go?” Katsuki interrupts. “Please.” 

Aizawa doesn’t manage to hide his surprise quick enough. “Uh, yeah, you should go to Recovery Girl to ensure you’re not hurt.” 

Katsuki nods, although that’s the last thing he’s going to do. And hauls his pathetic ass back to the locker room, ignoring the stares and murmurs that follow. 

“Do you need anyone to go with you?” 

“No.” 

He forces himself to his feet and shuffles to the locker room with Arlo in tow to change out of his gym uniform. 

Katsuki heads back to the dorms slowly, limbs made of stone. Arlo is fed up of moving at snail’s pace and tries to hype him up by running ahead and bouncing back towards him, tail raised in an invitation to play. 

He must realize that Katsuki isn’t going to endorse his antics and falls into step beside him, tail drooping slightly. 

Once he and Arlo are inside his room, Katsuki quietly shuts the door and rests his forehead against the wood. He’s so fucking tired. And there’s an invisible anvil crushing his chest that makes it hard to fully breathe in. 

It hurts. 

He doesn’t bother changing out of his uniform and crawls into bed, burrowing beneath the sheets. Maybe with the blanket pulled tight enough, he can leech the warmth and feel a little bit human. 

Katsuki should be doing homework. He should be studying. He should be catching up on everything he’s missed this past week. He should take Arlo out to play. He should’ve stayed in class. There’s so much he should do. So much he needs to do. 

He naps instead—well, he tries to at least. 

His nap is fitful, dreams tainted by bad memories and shitty thoughts. Katsuki is finally jerked awake when his phone rings loudly. Mind flashing with the remnants of his nightmare, he startles at the noise and scrambles to pick up the device. 

“Hello?” He answers groggily.

“An F, Katsuki?!” His mother’s voice booms from the other line. Katsuki winces and pulls the phone from his ear to spare his hearing from further damage. “What the fuck are you doing? You better have a fucking good reason for that grade!” 

Katsuki is already too warm from his nap, but the verbal reprimand sends a surge of heat against his chest. “Mind your own business, you old hag!” 

“Do not speak to me like that! I have every right to be concerned! Do you know how much this could cost you in the future? This isn’t the time to be fucking around. Get it together, Katsuki.” 

He bites his tongue until he tastes blood. He knows , she doesn’t have to rub it in like he’s some idiot child. “I’m working on it,” he snaps. It comes out more sullen than planned. 

The hag grumbles. “You’re gonna be the death of me, kid. Do you know how stressful it is finding out you’re failing a class?” 

He’s not failing, he has a C in the class overall. “It’s my grade.” 

“Yeah,” says his mom, “so fix it.” With that, she hangs up. 

Katsuki’s hands shake from how tightly he grips the phone. The anger boils over and he throws his phone across the room. 

It didn’t help. Now he’s left with a shattered phone. 

Katsuki falls back onto the bed, rolls over to bury his head in his pillow, and yells until his throat burns. 

Mentally exhausted, Katsuki longs to sleep and escape the burden of existing. He knows better though. He’ll just wake up or be forced by Arlo to wake up because he’s crying out and thrashing in fruitless efforts to ward off made up enemies. He’s so tired of this. 

There is no winning here. 

The bed dips at his feet. Arlo tries to nuzzle underneath Katsuki’s arm, but he tells the dog to go back to his crate. He’s better off there, where Katsuki can’t hurt him or drag him down with him. 

Arlo turns to leave, but then pauses and determinedly settles at the foot of the bed. He rests his head on Katsuki’s foot and heaves a sigh. 

Katsuki lets him stay. He stares at the wall until his cheek is sticky against his pillow and his legs are numb. It’s so loud in his head that the backs of his eyes throb. 

Worthless. So fucking useless. You’re never gonna be a hero like this, his mind crows viciously.

The lump in his throat grows. Katsuki squeezes his eyes shut tight. 

I don’t want to be here anymore. 

Chapter Text

Someone knocks on his door, a heavy-handed and quick rap. Arlo lifts his head, ears pricked. He leans over to poke Katsuki’s thigh like he thinks Katsuki simply didn’t hear and not that he doesn’t care enough to answer. 

Maybe if he doesn’t answer, they will go away. 

Arlo realizes the plan and settles his head back down with a sigh. If Katsuki could read his mind, he’d guess that the dog is disappointed in him. 

Not even a minute later, the banging starts up again. 

“Hey, Bakugou,” Kirishima’s voice floats through the door, “you skipped dinner— which isn’t exactly healthy but I know you’re probably not feeling too great. I have some leftovers… Satou made it so it’s better than anything I could do.” 

Katsuki feels his stomach knot up at the idea of food. 

There’s some shuffling on the other side of the door. “I’ll just leave it here. And, Bakugou, please text me if you need anything.” 

I won’t. 

Not like he can, his bitch fit earlier meant that his phone was more than likely broken. The old hag is going to be so pissed. The realization dredges up feelings of panic. Katsuki breathes in shakily, trying and failing to regain a sense of control. 

Arlo whines softly and wiggles his way into Katsuki’s arms. He tucks Arlo’s head beneath his chin. 

He soaks up the comfort shamelessly despite not deserving it. For once, he’s glad only Arlo is privy to these private moments of despair. Katsuki can only imagine what will happen if anyone else sees him acting this pathetic. 

Wriggling out from Katsuki’s grasp, Arlo goes to his corner of the room and picks up his stainless steel bowl. He brings it beside the bed and drops it with a loud clang. 

How the dog can even think about food at a time like this astounds him. 

Arlo barks, high pitched and demanding. 

Katsuki groans. 

He rolls over and sits up, lightly placing his feet on the floor. It’s grounding in a way, but the mere movement brings back the dread. Arlo whines and pokes his knee with his snout. Katsuki scrubs at his eyes. 

“Okay,” he heaves out the word in a sigh. “Come on.” 

Arlo grabs the bowl again and follows as Katsuki goes over to the sealed tub of food. As he unscrews the food vault, Arlo sets down the bowl and does an anticipatory tap-tap-tapping with his front paws. 

Katsuki scoops out the designated portion of kibble. A string of drool drops from Arlo’s jowls.

Not wanting the prolong his suffering, he gives Arlo the “okay!” to eat his food. The dog wolfs down his food and when he’s done licking the bowl clean of any crumbs, he flicks his tongue around his jaws. He sits by the door and looks expectantly back at Katsuki.

He forces himself to his feet and shuffles over to the door. His foot hits something and Katsuki stops in his tracks. It’s his phone. 

The screen is completely shattered and the phone itself is slightly bent. Katsuki gingerly tries to turn it back on, but to no avail. 

Leaving it on his bed to deal with later, he pulls open the door and motions for Arlo to go out first. The dog glances at the plate of food Kirishima left and back at Katsuki curiously. 

“Leave it, Arlo,” Katsuki mutters, “let’s go.” 

The dog dutifully follows him. 

Katsuki makes it outside without a hitch. He releases Arlo to relieve himself and stands a couple steps from the door, looking but not really seeing. It’s like staring through a frosty window. Everything is hazy and muddled and he can’t make out a single thing. 

He’s not quite sure where Arlo goes. But knowing Arlo, he’ll come back when he’s done. He always does. Katsuki waits. 

“Bakugou,” Iida booms from just beyond the door. “Where on earth is your jacket? You’re going to get sick!” He does that obnoxious chopping motion with his hand like it’s going to drill the point straight into Katsuki’s skull. 

Katsuki faintly registers the tremor that racks his frame. 

Oh. 

It’s that time of year where the temperature at night starts to drop. He doesn’t feel cold though. In fact, Katsuki doesn’t feel anything. His body responds though and it leaves him feeling uncomfortably disconnected from himself. He knows he should be cold in his thin tank top and joggers. 

He isn’t, but he shivers anyways. 

When he finally turns around, Arlo is already inside the dorm, peeking out from behind Iida’s legs. There’s no trace of his familiar doggy grin, just a firmly shut jaw and furrowed brows. 

Katsuki doesn’t dwell on it, too tired to figure out how that even happened. It is what it is. 

He’s vaguely aware of the blanket that’s tossed over his shoulders. He doesn’t need it though, but it takes more effort to shrug it off so he leaves it there. 

Someone asks if he’s okay. 

No. 

“Fuck off,” Katsuki hears himself say in an odd, monotone voice that doesn’t sound like him. “I’m fine.” 

This isn’t me, he feels more than he thinks. A knot forms in his throat. The overwhelming realization that he can no longer recognize himself makes him sick to his stomach. 

He’s fucking destroying himself. 

And he can’t make it stop. Can’t seem to snap out of it. He simultaneously no longer cares and loses his mind at the mere thought. What the fuck. 

He doesn’t sleep that night—doesn’t even try. There’s no point. Not when his grades are dropping. Even if he did sleep, it’s not like it’d be restful. Katsuki spent the night going over every practice problem he could get his hands on and reorganizing his room. 

Arlo tries to stay up with him, gnawing on one of his benebones. He ends up nodding off with the chew under his chin at around 4 AM. 

Katsuki nudges him awake when the sun starts to rise. The German shepherd slowly clambers to his feet and stretches with a groan. They trudge downstairs where Katsuki busies himself making coffee. He’s not one for coffee, usually opting for tea, but the lingering fatigue from staying up all night can only be chased away by the bitter sludge.

The morning chill cuts through the numbness that has been shrouding Katsuki since last night. Arlo seems to have shaken off the last grips of sleep and is very much awake for their run. Frosty air billows from his mouth with every pant, making the dog seem like some sort of winter dragon.

Katsuki hates how his run clears away the remaining tendrils of fog that had been gripping his mind because now his shitty brain has time to remind him of unpleasant notions. 

“This is shit,” he tells Arlo, hands clasped together behind his head while he steadies his breathing. 

Arlo whines low in his throat and presses against his leg. 

Katsuki feels a little guilty for dampening his mood. He strokes Arlo’s head with a sigh. “Let’s go, bud,” he says, “we have class.” 

Arlo trails after him, a slight droop to his ears. Katsuki frowns. 

Is he… chasing away Arlo too? 

Armed with coffee and a newfound desper—determination, Katsuki focuses on concentrating in class. He writes down everything on the board and more, including some helpful notes in the margin on tips to better comprehend the material later when studying. Later, he’ll go over and rewrite his notes and highlight the important stuff. The more he sees it, the more likely it is to stick. Writing them out again will help it stay fresh in his mind. Maybe he’ll even break out the flash cards. 

Something nudges his knee, jerking him out of his thoughts. 

Katsuki curses inwardly when he realizes he zoned off and missed part of the lecture. He slips Arlo a treat from his pocket as a thank you. Who knows how long that would’ve lasted if his dog hadn’t brought him back. 

Enthusiasm waning, Katsuki returns to his notetaking. He settles his chin on his hand and leans into it tiredly, cheek squishing against his fingers, while his hand moves on its own with the pen. 

He feels the familiar heat prickling along his back. It’s his telltale sign that Deku is staring at him with an intensity seemingly only reserved for analyzing Katsuki. He fights the urge to shudder and instead turns back, lips pulled into a warning snarl. 

“I swear to god, Deku,” he warns in a low, dangerous tone. “Mind your own fucking business.” 

“I wasn’t doing anything!”

Deku holds his gaze briefly before he averts his eyes—not submissively like he would’ve done in their first year. Katsuki could see the gears turning already. He isn’t in the mood to deal with him so he gets back to work and pretends like he believes Deku will leave him alone and not prod and nag until he gets an answer he likes. 

Another bump on the knee from Arlo. 

God fucking damnit. 

Kirishima bounds up to him after class, eyes bright and alert despite the boring as fuck lectures. He’s wearing a grin that could melt the wicked when he asks, “you still wanna do our usual sparring practice today?”

He’s so bright and full of life. Katsuki stares, taking in the flush on his cheek, the lively sparkle in his eyes, and the way everything about him screams alive. Compared to Kirishima, he feels remarkably dull. The chasm in his chest widens, leaving him with a burning ache. Someone like him could never be around a person like Kirishima without sucking the life out of them. 

“No,” he answers, “I have homework to finish.” It comes out a little harsher than he means to. 

Suddenly, Kirishima feels miles away. 

Katsuki pretends he doesn’t see the way Kirishima’s face crumples. Acts like he doesn’t hear the disappointment in his tentative, “Oh, maybe next time?” 

He doesn’t think there will be a next time in the near future. 

Guilt eats away at the inner lining of his stomach as he walks away. Kirishima’s crestfallen expression flickers in his mind. 

Katsuki probably just fucked up his first real friendship.

Of course he did. What doesn’t he fuck up at this point?

Definitely not All Might, he thinks sardonically. He ruined his idol’s career, one can’t get any lower than that. 

Stop it, stop it. Stop it. 

He should be past this already. It’s not his fault. He couldn’t have been responsible for that. It wasn’t his fault. 

The voice in his head says otherwise, the hissed comments turning into screams. Everything he worked towards, prided himself on—turns to ash in his mind. 

Katsuki has practically been running on fumes throughout the week. It’s no surprise when he wakes up after passing out at his desk while studying. 

Still, he can’t help hating himself for being so weak and giving in to his body’s pathetic need for sleep. Now’s not the time to be resting. He can rest when finals are over. 

Exhaustion tugs at his limbs and weighs heavy on his mind. 

He wants nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep. But he knows himself. If he rests, he’ll never get back up. If he pauses for even just a moment, he’ll fall even more behind. He can’t stop now. If he does, it will all be over.

Is this how it’s going to be for the rest of his life? 

If it is, Katsuki wants a refund on this living shit. 

He spots his ever growing pile of cups and plates stacked on his desk. Just the sight of it makes his skin crawl so he picks them up to take them downstairs. Arlo leaps to his feet and helps him nose the door open before leading the way to the elevators. 

The elevator dings to signal it’s reached the first floor. Katsuki is greeted by the chatter of his classmates as the doors slide open. 

They don’t notice him when he first passes by, but several heads turn his way when the dishes clink as he sets them in the sink. He pays them no mind and gets lost in the rhythmic motion of hand washing his dishes. Arlo settles at the entrance of the kitchen, head on his paws as he watches Katsuki with a focused amber gaze. It takes longer than it should for the last cup to be dried and placed neatly in his section of the cupboards. 

When he’s done, Katsuki wanders back towards the common room with Arlo at his side. He takes care not to make any unnecessary noise, hoping to go by unnoticed, and is glad he took the time to trim Arlo’s nails so they don’t click on the floors. 

He’s nearly to the safety of the hallway when Kaminari spots him and immediately ruins his escape. 

“Oi! Kacchan,” he sings, draping himself over the back of the couch to look at Katsuki better. “We’re playing cards against humanity, you should join!” 

He hesitates. 

That was mistake number one. 

“Come on, Blasty,” Ashido flings herself at him, holding tight to his arm despite his attempts at shaking her off. “Please!” Her golden eyes look at him beseechingly and when he glances over the top of her curly pink hair through her horns, he sees several other matching expressions. 

No, he shouldn’t give in. This is exactly why he’s failing. He can’t keep fooling around. 

“Not today,” he says. 

“If not today then when?” Mina asks with a pout. “We hardly ever play games with the whole class these days.” 

“A break won’t hurt, Bakugou,” adds Uraraka, “we’ve all been working hard. Remember what Hound Dog said about a work-life balance? This is part of it!” 

Katsuki yanks his arm away roughly at the mention of the school counselor. “I said not today.” 

Arlo paws at his sweatpants warningly. 

I know, Katsuki tries to project to him, I’m trying to leave. 

There’s a chorus of protests. He can’t make out the individual words, but eventually his irritation takes hold. 

He snaps, “will you all just quit it?” 

“Jeez, Kacchan,” grumbles Kaminari, “just say you’re too good for us and be done with it.” 

Katsuki grits his teeth. He knows the other boy is joking, but he’s really not in the fucking mood. “Fine, I don’t want to hang out with you losers.” He turns on his heel and storms away before the ugly thing writhing in his chest can take hold.

“Bakugou!” Kirishima calls, already on his feet. 

Katsuki hurries towards the elevator and jams the button repeatedly with his thumb. “Cover, Arlo.” 

The dog slides out of his heel position to stand horizontally against the back of his legs. Just in time too. 

“Dude,” Kirishima starts, “what’s going on? This is unusual even for you these days.” 

Relieved that Arlo puts some space between them, Katsuki feels comfortable enough to keep staring at the firmly shut elevator doors. “Don’t.”

His best friend— unbreakable, steady, and oh so fucking persistent, Kirishima— keeps pushing. “No, let me talk. You’ve been doing this for too long. You’re not taking any breaks and you’re always studying, it’s not healthy. Come on, bro, just join us for one game. Relax a little and you can study tomorrow. It’ll always be there.” 

“I need to study now.”

“Not like this!” Kirishima steps in front of him to catch his eye, mindful of Arlo moving with him to keep up a physical barrier. “You literally made yourself sick the other week. Nothing about this is necessary! Why are you doing this to yourself?” 

Katsuki glowers at him and signals Arlo to stand down with a hand cue. “I’m not doing anything.” Quite literally too because it feels like he’s been stagnant for weeks despite his best efforts. “Go back to playing the stupid game already.” 

The elevator dings. 

“We can help if you talk to us,” says Kirishima desperately. 

Katsuki shakes his head. “I’m fine.” 

As the doors slide shut, Kirishima lets out a frustrated noise, fists clenched. 

It’s moments like this when Katsuki is acutely aware of his classmate’s disdain towards him and his behaviors. Always when he’s no longer in the moment but instead playing it over and looking from the outside in. It usually doesn’t bother him. He rarely pays attention to what most people think of him—because what others think doesn’t mean shit, not when he’ll just prove them wrong later. Haters are always meant to hate. 

For some reason it feels heavier today. Like it just hit him that very few people truly do like him. 

He wonders if the invitation to join them was out of pity. Or perhaps an obligation to be seen as a good person as they all hold themselves up to some high moral code since they are hero students. 

They’re probably relieved he said no. If anything, they’ll be glad he’s not there to yell his head off for no reason. 

Whenever these thoughts push their way into his mind, time seems to slow. 

No, that’s not right. Time doesn’t slow. Katsuki does. 

One day he’s living, and the next he’s watching the world go by in front of him while he tries to push his way through in his honey jar existence. 

There it is again. 

His insides twist. 

If everyone fucking hates him, where does that leave him? 

Arlo nudges his hand, pulling him away from his thoughts. Katsuki pushes his floor number and leans back against the railing, scratching under Arlo’s chin absentmindedly. 

He wonders when Arlo will realize he is a bad person. Dogs seem to have some sort of sixth sense for this shit. He’ll eventually realize it and want nothing to do with Katsuki. A selfish part of him never wants Arlo to figure it out. But he hates himself for fooling the dog for so long. 

Arlo is too good, too pure for someone like him. 

But where will Katsuki be without him? 

Alone. 

Katsuki makes it to his room somehow. 

He sits on his bed, back against the headboard, and knees tucked up to his chest. He can’t seem to shake the deep feeling of unease that seems to embed itself into his very soul. 

I’m tainted. 

That’s what it is. 

He doesn’t belong. Not here, not anywhere. There is no place for him in this world. His own existence is making him uncomfortable, a dark and aching realization that he shouldn’t be here. 

He doesn’t want to be here. 

But what can he do? 

He’s aware of the consequence if he acts upon the enticing whispers in his mind and falls prey to the sly and twisted words his brain comes up with. 

It almost hurts more. 

It does hurt more. Knowing he is forced to stay here on this stupid planet and live the rest of his life in this haze that is neither living nor dying. 

God, he’s so fucking tired of this. Of everything. 

A piece of him dies at the thought. Because at one point, long ago, he wanted nothing more than to live and be here and do more. He wanted to be a hero. 

Now look at you. 

Katsuki hates himself even more when the first set of tears slip down his cheek, burning tracks down the side of his face. He squeezes his eyes shut and bites his lip so hard he draws blood. Instead of disappearing, more tears well up. 

A broken sob escapes, loud and piercing in the silence of his room. He bends forward with the force of his agony as the raw, keening sound seems to increase in volume. Katsuki slaps a hand over his mouth. It’s a useless endeavor. The damage has been done. 

It rises in him, scratching beneath his skin. He can’t stand it. 

Arlo jumps on the bed immediately, posture alert. He sniffs Katsuki’s face delicately and swipes his tongue over his cheeks, collecting the tears that continue to fall. 

“Noo,” Katsuki moans. He needs to be alone. Away from everyone and everything. He tries to turn away but Arlo is persistent. 

Katsuki looks at him, vision blurred, and can make out the gentle look the dog gives him. Like he’s the only thing that matters at this moment. Arlo cranes his neck forward and touches his nose to Katsuki’s before pressing their foreheads together. 

The gesture is so tender, so genuine. 

Katsuki sobs harder, hiccuping with each desperate gulp of air. 

A wildfire blazes in his veins, burning and aching. Katsuki wraps his arms around himself and grips so tightly his nails dig little crescents into his skin. 

Arlo tries to nudge him into laying down so he could settle on Katsuki’s chest. The task he always tends to do unprompted when he thinks Katsuki needs to be grounded. 

It’s too much. 

The contact is too much. The screeching in the back of his mind pulls up front. Everything is too much. 

Katsuki slides out from under Arlo. He makes it into the half bathroom in three strides, shutting the door before Arlo can squeeze his way inside. Arlo slams against the door with the high-pitched whine of frustration. 

“Fuck.” His hands grip at his hair. “FUCK!” 

When he pulls his hands away, blond strands float to the floor. Katsuki doesn’t know why his hair sends him over the edge, it’s so stupid. But his breath starts to hitch like it’s stuck in his throat. 

Katsuki paces frantically. He does that stupid finger trick his last mandatory therapist forced him to learn. When tracing the shape of his fingers does nothing to steady the burning, awful feeling, he whips around and throws his fist into the mirror. 

It all falls silent.

He stares at the mirror. Katsuki hates the way he looks in the mirror with its spiderweb crack and missing pieces. He brings his hand up and sees the blood smudging his arm and the sharp glint of glass embedded in his knuckles.

And there it is. Clarity. 

Katsuki’s heart races. He fingers a piece of glass from the sink. 

He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. 

Behind him, the door shudders from the force of Arlo shoving against it. He’s barking and barking. It’s distant in the back of his mind. 

Katsuki can fix this. He can fix everything.

“Does anyone know why Arlo is barking so much?” Jirou asks. 

Red flags wave in Kirishima’s mind. And usually, he’s a huge fan of the color—hell, it’s part of his whole brand as Red Riot—but this isn’t the good kind of red. “When did he start?” He demands, suspicions rising. “Arlo is usually really quiet.” 

Jirou’s ear jacks lift a little higher. “Not too long, a minute at most.” 

“Maybe he’s playing?” Denki adds, clearly remembering all the times Arlo startled the hell out of him when he would bark while playing fetch. 

“I don’t…” Jirou worries the bottom of her lip with her teeth, eyes troubled. “Something’s off. He sounds really frantic.” 

Kirishima leaps to his feet in an instant. “I’ll go check!” 

The elevator seems to be moving in slow motion. He shakes his leg impatiently, nervous energy drumming in the air. He hears Arlo before the doors even open. 

Arlo is practically howling, deep and powerful barks that crack in the air like thunder and linger even longer. Kirishima knocks on the door, heart in his throat. Arlo goes quiet.

“Bakugou? Bakugou!” 

If anything, Arlo grows more frenzied. Kirishima can hear his paws scrabbling against the door. The barking resumes with a ferocity that fills him with a cold dread. 

“Kirishima!” Todoroki trots up the hallway to meet him, deep furrows across his brows. “What’s going on?” 

Arlo wails, a noise akin to an anguished person screaming.

Kirishima didn’t know a dog could make such a sound. 

“Go get Mr. Aizawa!” He snaps at Todoroki, who’s looking as horrified as Kirishima feels. “I’m busting down the door! Hurry!” 

With a crackle of ice, Todoroki is half running, half sliding down the hallway in search of help. 

Kirishima shouts, “I’m coming in, Kat! Get away from the door!” 

He feels his quirk ripple over his skin and throws himself at the door without hesitation. It springs open easily and Kirishima has to roll to straighten himself out. He scans the room for his friend, flicking wood chips from his hair. Arlo is at the bathroom door and wails when he sees Kirishima. He rears onto his hind legs and scratches at the door, adding more deep grooves to the many that already scored the wood.

“Arlo, Arlo,” Kirishima tries to soothe the dog, stroking along his back and gently pulling him away. “Let me through, buddy, so I can get him.” 

As intelligent as he is, Arlo is no match for the round doorknob. Kirishima is relieved to learn Bakugou didn’t lock this one too. 

The shepherd pushes past him and rushes to his handler. 

“Bakugou!” Kirishima can’t help but yelp.

Katsuki startles when Arlo leaps at him. How the fuck did he get in? In his haste to get rid of the glass shard, he ends up slicing his palm when he flings it across the bathroom. He hisses and clutches his hand against his chest. 

Arlo whines and licks his face and wraps around him like a scarf. Katsuki stares at him in horror. 

“Bakugou!” 

The familiar voice douses him in icy water. Katsuki stares at his arm, then at Arlo, and finally forces himself to meet Kirishima’s wide-eyed gaze. 

“Out!” He shrieks, “I don’t know how the hell you got in, but you need to leave!” 

Kirishima surges forward and Katsuki rears back, baring his teeth. He’s trapped between the wall and his friend’s hulking form. His heart pounds in his ears. 

Fuck, he messed up. He messed up big time. 

“Hey, hey,” Kirishima is saying, “it’s gonna be okay, man. Just take some deep breaths for me.” He reaches for Katsuki’s hand, only to pause when Katsuki tucks it away, out of sight. 

The gentle words remind Katsuki of someone trying to soothe an injured animal. He knows what it looks like, he’s not stupid, he knows why Kirishima doesn’t want to set him off. 

“It was an accident,” he says. 

Kirishima gives him a sorrowful look. “Okay, I believe you.” 

No, it still feels off. “It was,” he insists, “I don’t know what happened. It just— and I… it was an accident. You need to believe me. I didn’t mean to.” 

“Break the mirror or…?” 

Katsuki shudders, pressing his good hand to his eyes. He doesn’t know. The mirror was an accident… He thinks so at least. It was building inside and it needed to go somewhere. And then— 

“Bakugou?” Kirishima rubs his shoulder gently. 

He doesn’t know why he did this. He has no idea. He wasn’t thinking. 

I can fix this. 

No, Katsuki fights back. He wasn’t thinking. He was being stupid. It was an err in judgement. A temporary lapse in sanity. 

You were so ready though.

“Fuck,” he grounds out, voice choking up. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He squeezes his eyes shut and a traitorous tear escapes. 

“No, Bakugou,” Kirishima says, “nothing’s wrong with y—”

Katsuki glares at him, offended. “Yes there is! I can’t do anything right! My grades are going to shit!” He grabs his shirt with his good hand, nearly scratching his chest through the fabric. “Everything feels wrong.”

That’s it. That’s what it is. The world has been off kilter for a while and he's only now realized. And smashing the mirror had fixed that. But only temporarily. 

Kirishima seems overwhelmed, eyes huge and slightly watery. He tries and fails to say something and settles for squeezing Katsuki’s shoulder. “It’s going to be alright, I’m here.”

He shakes his head with a growl. “You don’t get it.” It’s strange how his voice shakes. Insulting even, but then again nothing is right anymore. 

“Talk to me,” pleads Kirishima. “Tell me so I can understand.” 

“I can’t… you just have to know. Everything just feels wrong. I feel wrong and I hate it— it’s eating me from the inside and…” He trails off. “Nevermind. There’s no point. There’s no point in anything anymore!” 

He’s digging his nails into his palms. There’s a stickiness in one hand. Arlo whines and nudges under his arm in search of pets. Katsuki strokes his fur gently, only stopping when he sees the dirty crimson matting on his pelt. 

They sit in silence together. Katsuki hastily rubbing away tears as they come and Kirishima pressing up close to him while Arlo hovers nearby. 

Arlo’s ears prick just before there’s a knock on the door. Mr. Aizawa steps into the room. 

After a moment, he speaks, “Kirishima, head over to your room. I’ll come find you in a bit.”

Kirishima hesitates, glancing back at Katsuki. 

“You can leave,” Katsuki murmurs. 

It’s only when Kirishima is truly gone that the guilt hits him like a truck. What the fuck is he thinking? He had no right to drag Kirishima into his bullshit. 

Aizawa crouches down near him. He’s wearing black sweats and a t-shirt, his hair pulled back into a messy ponytail and capture scarf slung haphazardly around his neck like he just threw it on moments before. “Rough day, kid?” 

Katsuki barks out a bitter laugh. “More like a rough couple weeks.” 

“Yeah?” Aizawa sits on the floor. “What happened?” 

He brings his knees up to his chest and folds his arms over them. “It’s so stupid,” he mumbles into his arms.

“Trust me, problem child, I hear plenty of stupid things from you kids on the daily. It can’t be that bad.” 

Huffing, Katsuki adjusts himself so he can rest his chin on his arms. “I don’t know. It just all went to shit.” 

“Language,” Aizawa interjects. 

Katsuki thinks it’s mostly out of habit since he doesn’t say anything else, patiently waiting for him to speak again. 

“I feel off. All the time. It’s…fucking frustrating.” He pauses, waiting for a reprimand but gets none. “And I can’t sleep or pay attention to what I need to. It’s like my brain keeps shutting me out. I failed another exam and the old hag’s really fucking pissed. Hell, I’m pissed about it too.” Katsuki takes in a shuddery breath. “But I’m so fucking exhausted.” 

Fresh tears spring up. He is so, so tired. He wants to sleep forever if only to ease the pressure cloaking him. 

“And the arm?” 

Katsuki dips his chin to in shame, avoiding his teacher’s direct look. “I— I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I guess… it was too much and I didn’t know what else to do,” he admits, voice cracking. “I thought it would fix things.” 

He waits for the yelling, for Aizawa to smack him over the head and tell him how stupidly idiotic he was being. For him to suck it up and get his act together. That’s what his mom would do if she caught him like this. 

“Look at me, kid,” Aizawa says gently. “You’re not in trouble. However, you didn’t have to go through all that alone. You could come to me or any one of your teachers. That way we could helped you before things escalated to this level.” 

Katsuki fights to meet his eyes. “It wasn’t that bad.” 

Mr. Aizawa raises his eyebrows. 

“It didn’t get that bad until today.” Katsuki traces his finger along the cut in a feather-like touch that stings enough to make him grimace slightly. 

“Is there a reason that happened?” 

He shakes his head. “No. That’s never happened before… not even when—with the meds, back before Arlo.” He has never felt so out of control of himself and his life. It was like his consciousness and mind were on different pages and his body was not his own. Katsuki feels his breath hitch dangerously. 

“It’s never happened before,” he whimpers, mentally screeching at how pathetic and weak he sounds. “I wasn’t in control. It was like I was a back seat driver in my own fucking mind. It was fucking terrifying.” He swings his head to look at his teacher, wide-eyed and desperate. “It has to be a quirk, right? I’m under the influence of shitty person’s quirk.” 

“No, Bakugou, this isn’t a quirk.” His eyes are soft with understanding. “Look, kid, I’m no psychiatrist, but this sounds an awful lot like a depressive episode.” 

“I’m not depressed.” 

Mr. Aizawa holds up a hand. “I can’t diagnose anything since I’m not a professional. I’m just telling you what I think, not that it’s for certain. Regardless, I think it’s in your best interest that we set up a plan for the next few days.” 

“I’m not suicidal,” snaps Katsuki. 

“Bakugou.” 

The stern tone makes his jaws click shut. 

“I will set up a meeting for you with Hound Dog tomorrow morning. And I will discuss with your other teachers to see if we can do something to bring up your grades. And for the rest of the week, you will be checking in with me every evening so I can see how you’re faring. Lastly, I’ll speak with your parents about getting another meeting with a psychiatrist. I know medications didn’t do much for you last time, but let’s see if they have something that can help you sleep.” 

Katsuki pulls in a deep breath that stammers in his chest. “Okay.” He’s too tired to argue. 

“For now, head to Recovery Girl to check out that arm and then try to sleep. You’re excused from your classes tomorrow to rest.” 

Mr. Aizawa stands, knees cracking with stiffness. He’s just about to leave when Katsuki’s traitorous mouth pipes up. 

“Sensei?” 

His teacher hums in response. 

Katsuki digs his fingers into Arlo’s fur, trying to force the words to come out. “I don’t… think I trust myself tonight.” He can’t bring himself to elaborate, too embarrassed and ashamed that he’s admitting to being scared of himself. 

Aizawa’s eyes soften. “Thank you for being honest.” Somehow, he says it in a way that doesn’t sound patronizing. “How about you and Arlo camp out on the sofa in my room. We can get that hand cleaned up and then you can rest. I have to grade papers tonight so if you need anything, I’ll be up.” 

“Okay.” 

Katsuki stands slowly to follow him. Arlo pokes him with his snout, tail waving hesitantly. He runs his hand over the dog’s head, down his neck and under his jaw for a chin rub. Arlo melts into his touch and Katsuki feels the cold, emptiness in his chest ease a little. 

Maybe things will actually be okay. 

They will, Arlo’s eyes seem to reassure, because I am here. 

Chapter Text

“Wow! The view is so amazing already!” Deku exclaims, his nose pressed to the window of the car. Next to him, Arlo is also at the window, bracing his paws on Izuku’s legs and making little smudges with his nose. Katsuki sputters when he gets hit periodically by his wagging tail. 

The car swerves and Deku yelps when he and Arlo collide. “Todoroki!” 

Katsuki spits curses under his breath and reaches over to straighten out the wheel. “Jesus fucking Christ, Icyhot!” He snaps, but it comes out high-pitched and warbled. “Eyes on the road!” 

With a baleful look, Todoroki turns back around to face the front, hands firmly on the steering wheel. “I wanted to see,” he complains. 

“You’re driving! Y ou can’t be looking at anything other than the damn road!" Katsuki sinks back into his seat, arms crossed. "This is why I should’ve driven.” 

Midoriya and Todoroki both shake their heads frantically. 

“No,” they chorus together. 

Traitors , Katsuki thinks with a roll of his eyes. He follows the rules of the roads to a tee and yet, no one trusts him to drive. 

“You can’t say shit, Deku!” 

Izuku squawks indignantly. “I’m not a bad driver,” he defends himself fruitlessly. 

“You’ve taken the test four times and still haven’t passed!” 

“No license, no driving,” adds Shouto, much to Katsuki’s delight. 

“Okay, that’s unfair, those proctors had something against me. And the first time, I was nervous!” 

Katsuki snorts. “You crashed into a fire hydrant on your test. Ain’t no excuse for that.” 

Burying his face in his hands, Deku groans. “Are you ever gonna let that go?” 

“Nope.” He grins wickedly. 

To his right, Katsuki can see the mountains teeming with life; the trees lush and green with ample brush covering the sides. If he peers out far enough, he can still see the faint outline of the city growing fainter the higher they go. 

Anticipation thrums beneath his skin. The three of them had been planning this backpacking trip for months. And now that they all have the weekend off from their work studies, it's finally time. Nothing beats escaping to the mountains for some fresh air and new experiences. 

Katsuki grips the handle on the door tightly as Shouto makes yet another sharp ass turn that feels like they’ll go hurtling off the goddamn mountain. He still doesn’t know how Halfie even got his license with his crazy fucking driving. The guy is a speed devil, tailgates like no other, always takes turns at the last possible second, and gets so distracted he veers from his lane and then sends everyone into the doors or one another when he overcorrects his mistake. 

And they say Katsuki’s driving is scary because of his potential road rage–he doesn’t have road rage, he just gets rightfully pissed when no one else on the fucking road knows what they’re doing. 

However, using Daddy’s money for the rental car meant Todoroki had sole driving privileges. 

Bullshit. 

“I’m gonna be sick,” mumbles Deku. 

Both Katsuki and Todoroki whirl around in horror. Sure enough, Izuku looks a little pale and one scarred hand hovers over his mouth in a very dangerous gesture.

“Shit,” says Todoroki eloquently. 

“Shit!” Katsuki says for an entirely different reason when the car starts to bump oddly. They are definitely not following the road anymore and heading straight for the edge. “ Shouto .” 

That gets his attention quickly. The brakes squeal.

Katsuki jerks forward from the force and smashes his nose against the dashboard. 

In the back, Arlo tumbles off the seat, paws scrabbling for purchase. Midoriya makes a strangled noise.

“Ow.” Katsuki rubs his aching nose and glares venomously at Todoroki. 

Shouto’s eyes are wide and his expression stiff. He opens his mouth and closes it when nothing comes out. He clears his throat. “Maybe you should drive.” 

This time, Deku agrees fervently before he yanks open the car door and loses his lunch with a disgusting splash.

Arlo whines and presses against Deku’s heaving back, looking over at Katsuki helplessly. Bless his poor bleeding heart. 

Unbuckling his seatbelt, Katsuki slides over the center console and into the driver’s seat, nearly sitting on Icyhot.

“Bakugou,” Todoroki complains as he’s pushed against the door. 

“Out, out,” Katsuki says, batting at his shoulder. “Go grab the Dramamine from my bag.” 

As Shouto scrambles to get Izuku situated with anti-nausea tablets and water, Katsuki adjusts the seat. Fuck Todoroki and his stupidly long legs. He’s convinced part of the reason Halfie can’t drive is because he has the seat further back than necessary. 

“How are you feeling, Midoriya?” Todoroki asks. 

Deku rubs his neck bashfully, cheeks red tinged with embarrassment. “I’m alright now, I promise!” He takes a cautious sip of water. Once he deems it safe, he quickly downs half of it. 

Soon enough, they’re back on the road with Katsuki at the wheel. Todoroki lounges in his new seat like the passenger princess he is. He reaches over and grabs Katsuki’s phone, which is connected to the aux, and changes the song. 

“Hey! I liked that one!” 

“I didn’t,” Icyhot quips. 

Because two can play at that game, Katsuki vetoes Shouto’s song with the play next button on the steering wheel. 

Shouto huffs and fixes it, only for Katsuki to do it again. 

“Stop that,” he says, “you’re being childish.” 

“And you aren’t?” 

“I literally know your phone password. Don’t tempt me.” 

Katsuki laughs. “Nice try, Halfie, I have nothing to hide.” 

“Is that so?” Shouto begins to scroll through Katsuki’s phone. “Well, let’s take a look then.” There’s a moment of silence as he tries to find… something. “You have 58 unread messages. Do you even check your texts?” 

“Depends.” 

“Kirishima sent you another message. He says to “have fun and stay safe” with two exclamation marks.” He pauses long enough that Katsuki risks a glance over. "He really likes that one flexing emoji." 

“You do not need to be going through my texts.” 

“I don’t understand why Kirishima is the only one who gets their actual name in their contact information.” 

“He changed it himself a while back,” supplies Katsuki. 

Todoroki hums in understanding. “Guess I’ll have to change mine too.” 

“Lame.” 

With Todoroki distracted, Katsuki clicks through the auto play of the music until he gets to a song he likes. He glances at the rear view mirror. 

Izuku and Arlo are sprawled out in the back fast-asleep. Izuku’s head resting on Arlo’s flank and Arlo’s tail draped across his lap. It’s a cozy-looking cuddle pile and the whole reason Deku begged to be in the back seat. ("Arlo always cuddles with you. It's my turn!")

There’s a tingling excitement brewing in his chest. Katsuki can’t help the smile that etches onto his face. This trip is going to be great. 

He can’t even scowl properly when he catches Todoroki's smug ‘I saw that’ look. 

“There!” Katsuki snaps the last buckle for Arlo’s backpack and pats his head. “You’re all set.” 

Inside Arlo’s doggy backpack is his own supply of water, waste bags, identification, treats, and his collapsable bowls. He’s only allowed to carry about 15% of his body weight, but it saves Katsuki some room in his own bag. Plus, Arlo is ridiculously happy to strut around with his pack. He thinks it’s some big, important job only he can do. Katsuki will never tell him otherwise.

“Kacchan, are you sure this isn’t too much stuff?” Izuku eyes the hiking backpacks that Katsuki packed for each of them. 

Katsuki scoffs. How dare Deku question his knowledge on wilderness survival when Katsuki’s been doing this shit with his old man since he was a kid. “Of course not! Any unnecessary equipment would slow us down. Everything in these are essentials!” Okay, so maybe he packed a little heavy, but they would serve handy in an emergency. Plus, all three of them are in well enough shape that the extra load wouldn't slow them down much.

“Right…” Deku slings his bag over his shoulders and adjusts the straps for a better fit. 

While Katsuki gets his own pack situated, Arlo enjoys some love from Todoroki in the form of a face smush. 

“Are you excited? Todoroki asks. 

Arlo pants, his tail revealing all his thoughts on the subject. 

“Me too,” says Todoroki in the most deadpan voice. 

If Katsuki didn’t know better, he would think the opposite were true. 

After locking the car, the four of them head over to the start of the trail. Annoyingly, it's about a mile from their parking spot, but that's how most wilderness parks are set up. Katsuki decides to take them on the more difficult trail. It’s steeper and involves more climbing over rocky areas, but there’s a waterfall and a nice clearing 7 miles in where they could set up camp and loops completely around so they don't have to double back.

They set off at a leisurely pace for the first two miles. Izuku stops what Katsuki swears is every other step to take pictures. He even drags Shouto and Katsuki into frame for some impromptu group photos. 

“What about in front of this tree? Doesn’t it look cool?” 

Todoroki studies the tree for a long minute, his head slowly tilting further. 

“It looks the same as the other trees around here,” grumbles Katsuki. 

Todoroki squints. “What makes this tree special again?” 

Midoriya pouts. “Don’t be spoilsports, you two. Get in frame!” He crouches down and makes kissy noises to call Arlo over.  The dog is more than happy to join him, wiggling excitedly and leaning his weight against Deku’s legs. Izuku plants a giant kiss on the top of his head. "You are better than the both of them combined."

With a shrug, Todoroki goes to join them. He grabs the back of Katsuki’s shirt on his way and bodily drags him over, kicking and spitting half-hearted curses.

"If I have to do it," he mutters lowly. "You do too."

Arlo does a happy shimmy when he sees Katsuki and jumps up on him to lick his chin. 

“5 seconds!” 

Katsuki hoists up Arlo to cradle him like a giant baby. Who is he kidding? Arlo is his giant baby. The dog tips his head back and stares at the camera upside down, tongue lolling. Deku takes the chance to jump on Todoroki’s shoulders, nearly toppling them over before Shouto steadies himself. 

The phone makes a wrh-wrh-wrh-wrh as it takes a burst of photos. 

"Was that so hard?" Izuku teases Katsuki, flicking his nose. 

Katsuki tosses his head. "What is up with everyone trying to bust my nose today?"

Ignoring him, Deku slides off Todoroki’s back and rushes to his phone. Todoroki gives Arlo a quick chin scratch before Katsuki sets him down carefully. Arlo shakes out his fur and bounces between the three, excited by their energy. 

“These ones turned out pretty good!” Shouts Deku. 

Arlo takes that as his signal and drops into a play bow, dirt spraying from his feet. He doesn’t give anyone time to respond and zooms off. 

Katsuki sighs. “There he goes.” 

“Oh–” 

As Arlo comes running back, Katsuki pushes Todoroki back a step. Just in time as Arlo races past, right where he once was. During zoomies, the dog does not care who becomes collateral damage. Katsuki knows after being wiped out one too many times. 

He comes to a halt in front of them after another lap, eyes a little too bright and tongue extremely long. 

“Are you done?” Katsuki asks. 

Arlo sneezes and scurries off again. 

“That’s a no,” says Todoroki helpfully. 

Izuku laughs good-naturedly, phone raised to film. “I love how goofy he gets out here. So different from how he is on duty.”

The burst of energy finally fades and Arlo parks himself next to Katsuki. He pants lightly as he throws his weight against Katsuki’s legs like they're the only things holding him up. Katsuki tussles his neck fur affectionately. He loves seeing his dog happy and carefree. 

Weekend hiking means the trails are bound to be busier. Katsuki has planned for that and chose a lesser known trail. But nonetheless, they still encounter other hikers on the way. 

Most are on their way down, likely only doing a quick up-and-back with the lack of camping equipment being an obvious clue. Quick greetings are exchanged out of politeness and the occasional warnings about slippery slopes up ahead or fallen trees. He likes the no-nonsense approach of other hikers, along with the shower of compliments about Arlo’s good behavior. 

They even pass by another backpacker with a tall reddish dog. The dog is well behaved and hauls ass back to its owner when called and remains by his side while passing their group. Arlo makes no attempts to engage and instead looks to Katsuki for direction. 

“Nice dog,” says the guy with an appreciative nod. 

“Yours as well,” responds Bakugou, only nice because Arlo was mentioned. “Irish setter?” 

“Yup! She’s my adventure buddy. We’re out here nearly every weekend.” A soft look is exchanged between the guy and his dog; he eventually smiles and the dog returns the grin. Katsuki gets it, having experienced the same thing with Arlo. It's just a dog owner type of thing.

Deku butts in. “That’s so fun! Did you go to the waterfall?” 

“Yeah, I love the view. Tessa doesn’t swim but she likes to watch the critters that go by."

Katsuki laughs. “I wish Arlo were like that. I’m not a fan, but he’s some sort of water junkie.”

The conversation is short, pleasant, and dog-focused (which makes it more tolerable). The dude sends them off with well wishes and continues on his way, his long-legged companion trotting ahead to investigate some bushes. 

It’s nearly sunset when Katsuki finally hears the distant roar of water. The sound pours life into his weary bones and he can’t help picking up his pace. Arlo senses the shift in energy and turns to look at him. He must like what he sees because his tail begins wagging and then he’s springing up the rocky outcrop like a goddamn mountain goat. A cloud of dust follows in his wake. 

He looks over at them from the top, jaws split in a giant, open-mouthed canine grin. Arlo yaps at them with an obnoxious spray of drool. 

If Katsuki could speak dog, he’s positive Arlo just told them to hurry the fuck up. 

Katsuki sends a feral sort of smile towards Todoroki and Izuku. 

It’s childish to race to the top, but they do it anyway. Katsuki launches himself forward, using some jutted rocks as footholes to propel upward. Deku decides to gun it and go straight up regardless of the slippery areas that are worn smooth–Katsuki swears he sees a flash of green lightning as he passes. Todoroki picks out a path with the most grip and uses his long legs to steadily make progress. 

They heave themselves over the top, breathless and pink-faced from exertion. 

“I totally won,” pants Deku.

Katsuki swats at him tiredly. “In your fucking dreams.” 

Arlo gives them all a congratulatory lick to the face. Or maybe reminding them that he’s the true winner of the impromptu race. 

“Woah,” Todoroki says when he finally sits up. 

Katsuki straightens. He has half a mind to pat himself on the back because damn he chose a great trail. After their monstrous climb, the trees part to reveal a sizable clearing bathed in gold from the setting sun. Just beyond, a thundering waterfall drops into a pool of clear water with an impressive spray of mist. 

“Fuck yeah!” he crows. 

Their gear is piled haphazardly to the side as they gulp down water. Arlo quickly drains his portion and impatiently waits for Katsuki to unbuckle him from his pack. 

He pats the dog’s flanks and rises from to his feet. “Okay, you’re good.” 

A big mistake. Arlo hears his release word and connects some imaginary dots that are in no way related. Apparently it makes sense in his pea sized brain. He gallops across the clearing and launches himself into the water with a giant splash before Katsuki can even process. 

Todoroki and Midoriya laugh. 

Katsuki just sighs. “That is not what I fucking meant.” Arlo does a little lap before dragging himself to shore and laying down in the shallows. He dunks his head under the water like he’s diving for rocks and emerges again with a satisfied grin. 

“It’s cute,” Izuku says, “he’s like a seal.” 

“He’s gonna smell like wet dog now,” Katsuki complains half-heartedly. “You do know he’s sleeping in the tent.” 

“Oh.” 

It’s Katsuki’s turn to laugh at Deku’s pinched expression. 

Eventually, it’s decided that it no longer matters since they’ll all be dirty and smelly by the end of the trip regardless. Todoroki is the first to join Arlo in the water, quickly followed by Izuku. After some coaxing, Katsuki reluctantly goes in as well. 

The water is chilly, but feels nice on his sore muscles and heated skin. He finds a stick to throw for Arlo and succumbs to his fate of being splashed everytime Arlo leaps through the water like a dolphin to bring it back. 

Katsuki is the first one out, chased away by the evening breeze which turns the water frigid against his skin. Deku joins him later and opts to start the fire. Katsuki shivers pathetically despite the towel wrapped around his shoulder and watches disdainfully as Arlo and Todoroki continue to splash around. 

“This is big enough, right?” Izuku has the gall to ask as he hovers beside a campfire that’s nearly up to his waist. 

But Katsuki is appreciative of the warmth and therefore, decides to be nice. “Yeah, it’s good.” 

He roasts himself beside the flame, eager to shake off the chill. Izuku eventually shoos him away, unreasonably worried Katsuki is going to catch himself on fire from being too close.

Arlo comes racing over, fur so laden with water he brings half of the pool with him. Todoroki follows behind at a steady pace, steam rising from one side. He’s perfectly dry by the time he plops down in one of the lawn chairs (the one Katsuki set up). 

“Nuh uh,” Katsuki warns as Arlo does that funky little prance.

His dumb dog pauses to study him before getting closer and shaking out his fur. Katsuki screeches bloody murder as dirty dog water is sprayed all over him. 

“You’re the worst,” says Katsuki. 

Arlo grins. In order to not fall for those puppy eyes, Katsuki throws a towel over the dog’s head and cackles as he awkwardly stumbles around to free himself. 

Todoroki takes pity and pulls Arlo closer to adjust the towel so only the dog’s giant snout and eyes are visible. “Is Bakugou being mean?” He cooes. “Don’t worry, he’s usually like that.” 

Katsuki smacks the other boy with his towel.

“See what I mean?” Halfie whispers loudly. He starts towel drying the dog, probably using his quirk too because Arlo is fluffy and dry again in record time. Seriously, the guy is better than the force dryers at the self-wash station. 

He gets started with dinner with some assistance from his companions. He has to bite his tongue to not fuss about Todoroki's terrible chopping skills. When Deku sneaks Arlo a piece of chicken, Katsuki pretends he didn't see a thing. They eat in the glow of the fire and their chatter melts into the rumble of the waterfall. 

It’s good, Katsuki thinks as he laughs at Deku’s recount of an awkward as fuck solo patrol with Endeavor. Peaceful moments are far and few in between with their busy lives as hero students, but he’s come to appreciate them more recently—especially in the company of the people he trusts with his lives. 

“Pass me the marshmallow, Shouto.” 

Todoroki dutifully hands it to Izuku. He grabs another and with a tiny flame on his pointer finger, roasts it before popping into his mouth. He's one of those heathens who likes it nearly burnt to a crisp.

Amused, Katsuki watches as Deku slowly rotates his own over the fire. Izuku complains, “how are you gonna get the full camping experience if you keep cheating the system?” 

“It’s faster this way,” Shouto says with a shrug as he puts the second marshmallow between graham crackers and chocolate. “Want one?” 

Katsuki shakes his head. S’mores are a little too sweet for his taste. He does nibble on a bar of 80% dark chocolate that Deku brought along just for him. 

Just as Izuku’s marshmallow is turning that perfect golden brown color, it slides off the rod and into the fire. 

A stunned silence follows as they watch the flames lick at it hungrily until it’s charred and crumbly. 

“NOO!” Deku wails. 

Wheezing like a hyena, Katsuki howls with laughter. 

Shouto offers him a freshly made s’more. With a dirty look, Izuku takes it and grumpily chows down. He quickly forgets about his tragedy the more he eats. 

The warmth from the fire and Shouto’s left side (where Katsuki conveniently chose to sit) reminds his body how exhausted he is. Katsuki catches his head drooping several times. He even tips over at one point to rest his temple against Todoroki’s shoulder. Todoroki doesn’t complain so Katsuki can’t bring himself to jerk away and silently promises that it’ll only be for a few seconds. 

One moment, Katsuki is listening to Todoroki talk about Soba’s latest shenanigans. She apparently has gotten into the habit of sneaking up on Endeavor and biting his ankles. She bolts before the man can process what occurred. She also stole a piece of raw chicken from the counter while Fuyumi was turned away to prep.

Then, he’s being shaken awake. 

Izuku smiles, eyes bright with mirth. “It’s barely even 10, Kacchan.” 

“You got to nap in the car," He grumbles and rubs his eyes. 

Despite his teasing, the fire had been doused and all their mess cleaned up. Katsuki feels a bit guilty for not helping, but he’s quickly shepherding to the tent and doesn’t think about it too much. He changes into sweats and a long sleeved shirt. 

The tent is small so they are forced to pack themselves like sardines and have their sleeping bags in a row. Todoroki opts to be in the middle because he “doesn’t want to hear them squabbling.” 

Katsuki and Izuku splutter protests. 

“You two are very immature and would start kicking each other or fighting in your sleep.” 

It’s a fair argument, Katsuki reasons and Izuku relents as well. He immediately claims Todoroki’s left side because nights in the mountains are freezing and the guy is like a personal heater.

Katsuki tucks himself into his sleeping bag. There’s rustling as the other two get settled. And then Arlo carefully picks his way over Katsuki’s legs to curl up between him and Shouto with a content sigh. 

There’s a little too much rustling and that distinctive hair-raising feeling he gets when Izuku starts to mumble. Todoroki makes a sound that could be his sad version of laughing or someone genuinely choking. 

“Really? Whispering like school girls?” Katsuki grumbles, zipping his sleeping bag up all the way so nearly above his ears. “Some of us—” (“Just you,” says Todoroki.) “—are trying to sleep!”

Arlo woofs supportively. 

They in fact do not shut up, but Katsuki finds that he falls asleep quickly regardless. 

Chapter Text

He wakes up to the coo of morning doves and a bright ass light on his face that paints the backs of his eyelids orange. Katsuki rolls over to press his face into Arlo’s fur with a grumble. And promptly jerks away when he knocks against something distinctly lacking fur. 

The lump beside him is definitely not his dog. Katsuki groans. Of course, Izuku would somehow find a way to migrate to him. 

Raising himself onto his elbows, Katsuki realizes no one is where they started. Todoroki somehow managed to get out of his sleeping bag and is sprawled horizontally where their heads once were. Arlo seems to have taken advantage of the free sleeping bag and is curled up cozily on Shouto’s, nose buried beneath his tail. Crammed against the side of the tent are Katsuki and Izuku. How Arlo ended up with the most room is beyond him. 

Oh, and Katsuki lost a sock. 

He pats and lifts things, trying to find his phone to check the time. Icyhot lifts his head to stare blearily at him. 

“Morning?” Katsuki isn’t really sure he’s awake. 

Todoroki squints at him, turns away violently, and goes right back to sleep. 

Well okay then. 

Arlo stretches with a whiny yawn and Katsuki says the obligatory, “big stretch,” as he tugs a sweatshirt over his head. Katsuki tries to unzip the tent quietly. It's pointless when Arlo just ends up barging through with a loud ass rustle. He shakes his head fondly before following the dog out. 

He’s in the middle of scrambling these weird fake eggs when Deku makes his appearance. 

“Good morning, Kacchan! Hi Arlo!” 

Katsuki grunts his own version of a greeting while Arlo lifts his head from his food bowl and wags his tail before going back to his meal. 

As he’s warming up the precooked sausages, Todoroki makes his appearance. His hair sticks up in different directions, oddly flat in some areas, and the split between the two colors has been smudged. He sits heavily next to Deku, staring blankly ahead. 

“Uh, Todoroki?” Deku says hesitantly. “You alright?” 

Todoroki hums. 

“Are you awake this time?” 

He receives another hum. 

Katsuki sighs. “Guess not.” Icyhot is a diesel engine and needs to warm up before he’s of any use. He divides up the food into three portions and adds a protein bar for good measure. Backpacking takes a lot of energy so they’ll need to eat enough to stay ahead of their metabolic needs.

“Thanks!” Izuku exclaims after taking a mouthful. “Where are we headed today?” 

Katsuki scolds Arlo for drooling on Todoroki’s knee in a valiant effort to brainwash him into sharing. “We’re going up that last peak and then finishing the loop. Should be back by tomorrow evening at the latest .” He snaps his finger. “Oi, Arlo, cut it out.” 

Arlo shoots him the most unimpressed look before admitting defeat. 

“My pants,” Shouto says in dismay. “Why is your dog so slobbery?” 

Katsuki rolls his eyes. “He’s a dog, what do you expect? Besides, you two keep sneaking him treats. You’ve Pavlov’d him.”

“Don’t lump me into this,” protests Deku. “I always ask first.”

Todoroki cradles Arlo’s face in his hands. “He just always looks so hungry.” 

“You say that about the cat and that’s why she’s fat,” Katsuki says. 

“She is not fat.” 

Katsuki snorts. While Soba is still rather active, her metabolism has definitely slowed down after being spayed. And she wails like she’s being tortured if there’s anything less than her previous amount in her bowl. As a result, she’s a little chunkier than she should be. “She’s gonna be fat if you keep feeding her all the damn time.” 

“You deal with her crying then.” Shouto proceeds to wrap his arms around Arlo, who originally is thrilled and then slowly starts to look more done with his life as he gets jostled around and squeezed. 

“No thanks. Arlo is enough for me.” 

He’s had to cat-sit Soba on multiple occasions. Don’t get him wrong, she’s got a cute fucking face, but she’s the devil’s reincarnate. An absolutely insane creature who only really loves Shouto and merely tolerates everyone else on a good day. 

Izuku throws muffins at both of them. “Don’t complain about them! Besides Koda, you two are the only ones with any pets. I would give my arm to have a pet.” 

Both Katsuki and Todoroki exchange horrified looks as their muffins fall. 

Shouto adds, “Please keep your arms.” He gingerly wipes dirt off the top of the muffin and sniffs it cautiously. “I didn’t choose Soba, she chose me.”

“It’s fine,” Katsuki tells him, “five-second-rule.” He peels the top off and hands it to Arlo. Just in case. The dog scarfs it down and then licks his fingers for any crumbs. “They’re a shit ton of work,” he adds. “And expensive.” 

Mouth full of his floor-muffin, Todoroki looks scandalized. 

The second portion of their backpacking trip is much easier. The inclines are less steep as opposed to their path the day before so they are able to travel at a brisker pace without straining themselves.  With the recent rainy weather, the streams are further up the banks as well. Most can still be hopped over, but there are times—like now—when the stream is more than a leap’s length. Katsuki has faith in his waterproof hiking boots and simply rolls up his pants to his knees and wades through. 

Arlo follows after him, the water up to his elbows and his tail fur feathering from the movement of the stream. 

He and Arlo pull themselves up the bank at the exact same time. Katsuki pats Arlo on the head and turns to his companions. 

“Come on, losers,” he shouts. “We don’t have all day!”

Todoroki eyes the water then his shoes dubiously. He opts to cross using a couple of rocks that are jutting out. Deku follows closely after him and nearly falls when a rock shifts beneath him. He flails his arm wildly and somehow manages to find his balance, hurriedly scampering the rest of the way with a breath of relief. 

Arlo barks when they’ve all gathered up again and does a couple celebratory spins. He begins to trot ahead, pausing after a bit to check in, his eyes bright and his tail held high. 

The boys are apparently too slow for Arlo. He races ahead and then immediately whirls on his haunches to come running back, and repeats this process multiple times until his tongue hangs extra long from the side of his jaws. 

“Anyone see a stick?” Katsuki says, tired from merely watching Arlo walk more than he has to. “This dog needs a pacifier.” 

“I think there’s one over there.” Deku points to a nearby tree that seems to have dropped some of its foliage. 

Katsuki catches Arlo on his way back and points towards the base of the tree. “Go get it.” 

The dog goes enthusiastically, snuffling the ground as he tries to find what exactly Katsuki was gesturing for. He snatches up a few leaves and spits them out when they crumble between his teeth. 

Instead of grabbing any of the twigs and sticks nearby, Arlo sets his sight on a surface root. He grabs at the handle-like space and starts to tug, frustrated whines punched out with every new pull. 

“I don’t think he’s environmentally friendly,” Shouto says. 

Katsuki just sighs. 

Izuku is absolutely no help and crouches beside Arlo to cheer him on. “Get it, Arlo! Get it!” He smacks the dog’s flanks playfully which only serves to rile him up more and he tugs with renewed vigor and noises like a motor revving. 

“He is an environmentalist’s worst nightmare,” amends Todoroki. 

Katsuki didn’t really expect Arlo to yank out the root (he really should stop underestimating his dog), but the ground starts to shift a bit and Katsuki decides to end his destructive streak. 

“Alright, that’s enough.” Arlo immediately stops because he is a good boy. “Let’s not kill the tree.” 

Todoroki finds an actual stick and hands it to Arlo, who snatches it happily. And then proceeds to prance circles and nearly impale them each time he passes.

“I don’t know how Mr. Aizawa does this,” says Deku, airily clearing his throat after he finishes the last bit of his meal pouch. He chugs his water hurriedly and even goes so far as to gargle with some. As if that alone could wash the god-awful taste from his mouth. 

Katsuki is inclined to agree with him, and steadily takes his own in manageable mouthfuls. If he goes any faster, he considers it might come up just as quick. “I bet his taste buds have gone dead from always eating this shit. Fucking nasty.”

“It could be worse,” says Todoroki, the only one unbothered about the mushy texture and bitter, chalky taste disguised by the very fake and very sweet peanut butter-banana flavor. “It could’ve been grape-flavored.” 

Izuku chuckles. “That would make it so much worse, huh?” 

“Why do I think you’d end up like Aizawa and be surviving off these?” Katsuki accuses Shouto, squinting at him suspiciously. He’s taking the meal replacement down way too easily. Then again, Icyhot has always had shitty tastes so maybe it’s not so surprising. 

Shouto shrugs and tucks his finished pouch into the ziploc they have dedicated to food trash. “It’s very convenient. All the vitamins, minerals, and nutrients you need in one meal.” 

“Wouldn’t you get bored?” Deku objects. “Where’s the variety?” 

“It’s not like it’s the only thing I’ll eat.” 

“You are something else,” says Katsuki. 

“Thank you.” 

“It wasn’t a compliment.” 

Deku interrupts before their banter takes off, pulling out the smallest deck of Uno cards known to man. 

And by small, he means it literally because the longest side of the cards are no more than the width of his phone. 

It takes longer than necessary to shuffle them because of their size and they end up splitting the deck in three so each can shuffle a chunk and compare who shuffles the best. Eventually, the game does start. 

“Blue plus two,” says Izuku. 

Katsuki grins sardonically, “Green plus two.” 

“I hate you both,” says Shouto as he draws eight cards. “Stacking isn’t even in the rules.” 

Patting his shoulder sympathetically, Deku rubs salt in the wound. “You agreed to it at the start. No take backs.” 

Halfie grouses, “it’s a stupid rule.” 

“You just need to be better. You suck.” Katsuki cackles when the other boy gives him the dirtiest look he can muster. 

“Kacchan, go already.” 

Katsuki flips him off, but looks over at the card pile and chooses to put down a yellow card. “Calm your tits, I was thinking.” 

With his abundance of cards, Shouto has no problems finding something to put down and crows with delight when he forces Deku to draw four. 

Katsuki puts down a skip just to rile up Todoroki, and his satisfaction is wiped away immediately when Izuku also puts down a skip, swapping their roles. 

“Uno!” 

“Already?” 

Katsuki curses under his breath. “You got a reverse?” He asks Todoroki, who begins to flick through his cards. 

“Hey!” Izuku protests, “Don’t conspire with him!” 

Sagely, Shouto tells him, “Desperate times call for desperate measures.” 

“Attaboy,” Katsuki says, clapping him on the shoulder. 

He tosses a blue 4 onto the pile and Shouto immediately follows it with a blue reverse, which Katsuki also does, and they manage to keep it up for two turns before Katsuki runs out of cards that match Shouto’s reverse cards and they are forced to concede. Without any +2 or +4 cards in their possession, Deku was always bound to win with his wild card.

“I still think you’re cheating,” Katsuki accuses. 

Deku sticks his tongue out. “Suck it, Kacchan, you just don’t want to admit I’m better than you.” 

Todoroki looks between the two of them, confused. “I thought the game was all luck.” 

Both Katsuki and Izuku round on him. “Of course not!” They say in unison. 

“There’s a strategy to it,” says Deku earnestly, “you’ll figure it out!” 

Katsuki tips his head to mutter lowly to Shouto, still loud enough for Izuku to hear. “Yeah, the strategy is cheating.” 

“I don’t cheat!”

“And then,” Shouto pauses, whether for dramatic effects or just because—Katsuki has no idea, but he’s unnerved by the way the flashlight casts harsh shadows across his face and the whistle of the wind that seems to kick up right then, rustling the tent ominously. “His father looks under the bed and sees another copy of his son curled up beneath, absolutely terrified. ‘There’s someone on my bed,’ the boy tells him.” 

Deku shifts a little closer to Katsuki, practically glued to his side. They wait, stiff with anticipation. 

Shouto doesn’t say a thing, face as impassive as hell. 

“Shouto?” 

“Oh that’s it,” Icyhot says, “I forgot the rest.” 

The tension floods from his body instantly and Katsuki laughs, both in disbelief and to dispel the leftover jitters. “Are you fucking serious?” 

“Those were pretty good, Shou,” says Izuku. “Minus that last one being incomplete.” He chuckles warmly and detaches himself from Katsuki to crawl to his sleeping bag, carefully stepping over Arlo’s curled up form, who cracks one eye open in the process. 

They are packed snuggly in their sleeping bags within the hour. Arlo stumbles over to Katsuki and he opens his sleeping bag to let the dog flop against his side. He throws his cover over the two of them and snuggles the dog, breathing in the earthy scent he’s taken on from their travels. 

Katsuki swears he only sleeps for a second when he finds himself awake again for no reason. 

“ Kacchan!”

Nevermind. Izuku is responsible for this tragedy. 

He closes his eyes again and pretends to be sleeping in hopes Deku will shut up and go to sleep. 

“ Kacchaaan! ” Comes the hissed response. 

Katsuki sits up. “What do you want? It’s still dark.” He too is whispering because both Icyhot and Arlo are asleep. 

“I think I heard something outside,” says Izuku, eyes so wide that Katsuki can see the slight green of his irises even in the darkness. 

“Probably just the wind.” 

Izuku protests as Katsuki shuffles back into the warmth of his sleeping bag. “Kacchan, I’m being serious, I think there’s something—”

And Katsuki’s just about to tell him where to shove it when outside the tent, a branch snaps. The atmosphere stills. 

“Could still be the wind,” Katsuki offers, but he’s a little suspicious too. 

“Should we check?” 

Katsuki and Izuku stand and fumble towards the zippered entrance. Katsuki unzips the corner of the inner lining, leaving the fly sheet intact and tries to peer out. 

“I don’t see anything.” 

“Are you sure?” Izuku presses, pushing to see. 

“Ow! Deku, that’s my fucking foot!” 

“You’re fine, don’t be dramatic.” 

“Well, fuck you too.” 

They fall silent. Well, sorta, because Katsuki can hear Izuku breaths in his ears and the puff of his own lungs as they wait. He’s about to call the whole thing stupid when right behind him, a deep sound breaks the silence. 

Katsuki doesn’t know if he or Izuku screams louder. Like fire’s been lit under their asses, they jump in unison and Izuku whirls around so fast he spins right into Katsuki, who stumbles right into the tent wall. The material is definitely not meant to support them and gives way immediately.  He yelps as the zipper catches on his hair and yanks when it opens under the pressure. Katsuki tumbles out of the tent and onto the dirt and sticks and tiny stones that cover the ground. Izuku flops next to him, thrashing wildly against the flap that is determined to keep him in. 

The whole tent rustles aggressively and only stops when Deku has fully been spat out. 

“You idiot!” Bakugou cries, sitting up and gesturing at Arlo who stares at them innocently from inside the tent. “It’s just the dog!” 

Izuku just laughs nervously. “How was I supposed to know? I didn’t think he would bark!” 

Neither did Katsuki, but no one has to know. 

To make matters worse, they woke up sleeping beauty. 

And unlike the fairytales, Todoroki is far from thrilled about being back in the land of the living. In fact, he looks downright murderous as he points his phone flashlight at them. 

“What is wrong with you two?” He begins his tirade, voice raspy from sleep and eyes narrowed into slits. “You’re acting like children!”

Beside him, Arlo lets out a warning grumble, the fur on his neck puffed up so he looks larger. 

Which is… very very odd. 

Katsuki gets a nagging feeling that’s usually reserved for when his life is at risk. Deku must feel something similar because he stiffens noticeably. E ven Todoroki stops his rant. The only sound being Arlo’s growl that steadily increases in volume. 

“There’s a bear, isn’t there?” Izuku ventures.

Shouto nods mutely. 

Katsuki risks a glance over his shoulder and sees a pair of eyes, made reflective by Shouto’s flashlight, staring back at him. In a flurry of movement, he’s on his feet, palms lighting with pops of his quirk and Izuku is crackling green from his quirk. Arlo takes his actions as a sign and launches forward with a volley of deep, resounding barks that startle some nearby birds into flight. Katsuki barely manages to stop him with a skillful grab of his collar, heart beating wildly in his chest. The dog strains against his hold with a bark that trails into a snarl. 

The bear makes a noise of surprise and after swinging its giant head to look between all of them, decides the prospect of human food is not enough to risk face off against the lot of them, and hurries away. 

When Arlo sags against his restraint, Katsuki allows himself to relax. 

“Why does this always happen to us?” Shouto demands, no longer concerned about the bear and still fussy about his lack of sleep. 

Izuku laughs good-naturedly, relief palpable. “I’ll take a juvenile bear over a villain. It was kinda cute.” 

“Only you would think that,” says Katsuki with a scoff, but he too loosens up. “We’re just trouble magnets.” 

Arlo yaps in agreement. 

Chapter Text

“So, what exactly does the dog, like, do?” 

Katsuki rolls his eyes at the stupid first-year intern. “His job.”

It’s been a slow day at the Genius Office, which means that Katsuki and the rest of Best Jeanist’s interns and work study students are antsy and looking for something to do. Katsuki is just getting back from his vending machine run when some kid decides to brave a conversation with him. Mainly to pester about Arlo. 

Honestly, Katsuki shouldn’t be surprised at this point—Arlo, unfortunately, raises a lot of eyebrows. Curious bystanders cannot resist asking questions or giving their unwanted opinions. 

Still, he does not want to be bothered about his dog while at work. 

The intern huffs and Katsuki wonders where he even finds the audacity to be offended that Katsuki doesn’t want to share personal information. “That’s not what I mean. But like, dude, you’re the same age as me, why do you need a service dog? How did you even get Best Jeanist to agree to let him be here? Are you even cleared for hero work?” 

“None of this is your fucking business,” snaps Katsuki. “But for the record, asshole, as a service dog, he’s allowed wherever I am.” 

“Can I pet him?” 

“What? No.” Katsuki instinctively shuffles so that Arlo is safely tucked behind his legs. Arlo is very much used to this, having gone through the same song and dance during his first year with Katsuki at UA. He lies next to Katsuki’s desk chair with his head on his paws and merely sighs like this is the worst part of his job—waiting. 

“Haruki,” rumbles Best Jeanist’s voice from behind, interrupting any further instigation. “You should know better than to distract a working animal. Now, run along.” 

Katsuki can’t help but smirk triumphantly as the extra scurries away. “Hah.” 

He gets flicked on the head and squawks indignantly. 

Best Jeanist fixes him a withering look. “Don’t be childish.” 

“I was being harrassed,” Katsuki protests. And it’s only because he basically died on Best Jeanist that the older hero simply shakes his head and regards him in an almost affectionate manner. 

“Yes, I’ll have a talk with the interns later this week,” amends Best Jeanist. “Get your feet off the desk. This does not mean you get to return to your uncouth mannerisms.” 

“Ugh, you’ve seriously got a stick up your ass.” He does return his feet to the floor though. 

 Pinching the bridge of his nose, the fiber hero mutters, “Christ, how have I put up with you for so long? My one and only delinquent reformation failure.” 

Oh, he’s just asking for it at this point. Katsuki’s mouth stretches into a Cheshire grin. 

“Don’t—”

“I mean, you had the opportunity to get rid of me forever,” quips Katsuki. “I’m sure I would’ve had as much fun haunting you from beyond the grave.” 

“You are terrible,” Best Jeanist tells him flatly. 

Katsuki doesn’t get a chance to answer because one of the sidekicks rushes in. 

“Best Jeanist, sir! There is an emergency disaster relief call! They are asking us for help evacuating a collapsed residential building.” 

Katsuki jumps to his feet, suddenly alert. Arlo senses the shift in the atmosphere and proceeds to take his place at Katsuki’s side. 

“Let them know we’re heading over,” orders Best Jeanist. “Gather up some of the work study students as well and an intern with a quirk that may aid in rescue. This is a good training opportunity.” 

“And us?” Katsuki demands, unwilling to be sidelined. 

Best Jeanist regards him skeptically. “Your quirk is best suited for combat.” 

“A hero needs to be able to do whatever is needed. At Endeavor’s agency, I responded to every call he received during my work study—no matter the situation; it’s also been hella slow today and I need to do something. Besides,” he rests his palm on Arlo’s head, between his ears, “Arlo has completed his disaster search training and can be of use.” 

“Alright.” His mentor looks like he’s swallowed a lemon. “I better not regret this, Dynamight.” 

Katsuki grins confidently. “You won’t.” 

He tussles Arlo’s fur, anticipation coursing beneath his skin. It’s showtime!

It’s chaotic like one would expect in the midst of a disaster. There are emergency vehicles lining the streets, lights flashing and sirens wailing, and civilians scrambling to make sense of it all. 

Katsuki steps out of the car, holding the door open for Arlo to jump out. 

“Our main priority,” says Best Jeanist, “is stabilizing the building. Once that is done, we can send others in to look for survivors.” 

Since they are not looking for a demolition, Katsuki chooses to help secure the perimeter. He helps a police officer unroll some police tape to serve as a boundary and prevent anyone from sneaking inside. 

“No, you can’t go in,” Katsuki explains for the nth time to yet another idiot who thinks they are the exception to the rules. “It’s not safe. Either wait or come back later because there’s no way you’re getting in.” 

The man gives him a furious glare, which Katsuki returns tenfold, and stalks off. 

“Please, my baby! Please, you have to let me go in!” 

Katsuki finds himself drawn to the commotion. No more than twenty yards away, some woman with pale blue hair is being restrained by an officer. Katsuki marches over and calls out sharply. 

“Oi! What’s going on here?” 

The officer regards him flatly. “I’ve got it handled, kid, go back to your area.” 

Katsuki ignores him and turns towards the woman, observing the frantic light in her tear-filled eyes. 

She wrenches free of the officer’s grasp, wrist held protectively against her body. “Please, you have to help me,” she begs. “My daughter—she’s four—and she’s trapped in there!” 

“The heroes are currently working to secure the building so they can begin searching,” Katsuki says, the words worn from being said out loud so often. 

Hand flying to her mouth to stifle a sob, the woman shakes her head. “You don’t understand. She’s a child and she’s alone and probably so scared. I don’t know how this could happen—I only stepped out to get the mail. My baby, my poor baby!” 

In another desperate attempt, she ducks under the caution tape and makes a beeline for the apartment building. Katsuki stops her before she can get far, blocking her physically with his form, one hand outstretched to keep her at bay. 

Katsuki tries to stay polite, telling himself she is just a scared parent. “Look, lady, I can’t let you through. It’s too dangerous. You are no help to your daughter if you get hurt or killed. Once the building is stable, someone will go and look for her.”

The woman makes an anguished noise. “She’s so shy, she’s going to be so scared if some stranger tries to get her.”

“Even a hero?” Katsuki finds himself looking for Best Jeanist, an undoubtedly well-known hero that may have better luck soothing this lady than Katsuki. But Best Jeanist is busy, quirk activated to help stabilize the building and straining to keep himself steady against the weight. 

His eyes settle on Arlo, patiently waiting beside him and all decked out in his own hero gear to keep him safe and identifiable. 

He cuts off the woman’s frantic blubbering. “Does she like dogs?” 

She gives him an odd look and responds almost suspiciously, “She does…” 

“This guy here is a search and rescue dog,” he explains, gesturing towards Arlo. “He’s trained to locate people and help bring them to safety. Not to mention, he’s a real softie for kids. You may not be allowed to go in to look, but he can and his presence can be soothing for your daughter.” 

The woman studies him for a long while; Katsuki feels like he’s been flayed, soul exposed for her violet eyes to witness all he is, and he stands frozen in time while she picks him apart. 

“Okay,” she murmurs. And all at once, she seems smaller, more vulnerable without that powerful desperation that he can only define as a mother’s fierce love. “Bring me back my little girl.” 

Katsuki thinks the words are more directed at Arlo than him, but he nods firmly for the both of them. “We’ll bring her back.” 

“Arlo, let’s go.” The dog eagerly follows at his heels, boot-clad paws tapping rhythmically against the asphalt. Katsuki pulls them off to the side and pulls out the tiny camera from Arlo’s tactical vest to clip it on. From his own pocket, he pulls out the matching set that allows him to communicate with Arlo and see what’s going on. He strokes Arlo on the head, smoothing back his velvety ears so he can press his forehead against the dog’s. 

“Kick some ass, okay?” 

Arlo licks his chin in affirmation. 

“How stable is the building?” He demands one of the sidekicks currently helping canvas the area. 

The woman looks down her nose at him. “The outside is secure, but there is no guarantee on how safe the internal structure is. Any added stressor or big movements could cause some walls to come down.” 

Katsuki frowns. He may not be able to go in with Arlo if that’s the case. “Can I send in a search dog? He weighs about sixty pounds. We’re supposed to be looking for some kid.” 

“I don’t know.” She eyes Arlo warily. “What can he do that we heroes cannot once the damage has been contained?” 

“The kid’s not a fan of strangers, but likes dogs. He can locate her and get her out quicker than any of us and with less of a fight.” 

“But—”

Katsuki sweeps on. “He’s smaller than everyone else. If the structural integrity is truly compromised, some areas may be blocked by debris. He can get through easier.” 

She looks between Arlo and Katsuki, eyes stormy with conflicting thoughts. After what feels like eons, she dips her head. “Fine,” she says. “I have kids of my own. I would hate it if they were trapped alone for longer than necessary. Do you really trust him to bring a child to safety?” 

“Without a doubt.” 

“Alright, come around the back. This entrance is the most sturdy.” She leads them through the sea of heroes and first responders, weaving delicately around people until they reach the far side of the apartment building. 

The door hangs crooked on its hinges, propped open with rock and marked off with caution tape. Katsuki peers inside, noting the crumbled walls and chunks of debris that have crashed to the floor. The staircase off to the side has a dented rail and swinging from the ceiling nearby is a fallen ceiling light, still partially attached by its wiring. 

Katsuki grasps the handle of the vest as he crouches beside Arlo, their cheeks nearly brushing, and points inside. 

Snapping into focus, Arlo follows his gesture, ears pricked and muscles coiled like springs. 

“Search!” 

The dog forges ahead without Katsuki, head craned towards the ground, and disappears inside with a flick of his tail. 

Katsuki sends Arlo towards a pile of rubble and the dog scrambles up, strategically choosing the more stable areas to support his weight. He ducks under a large slab of concrete to stick his nose inside some crevice. 

His tail begins to wag and he whips his head to look at Katsuki and barks once. 

Grinning, Katsuki carefully picks his way closer and peers down to meet Uraraka’s large round eyes. 

“Gotcha!” 

He gives Arlo a couple hearty pats on his flank before reaching down to grasp his pretend victim’s arm to lift her out. She laughs delightedly as she dusts herself off. “He’s doing so well!” 

Once away from the mess, Katsuki pulls out a ball tug and lets Arlo grab it. “He’s getting real quick about it and without knocking down everything.”

Katsuki thinks the hardest part was teaching Arlo to safely navigate dangerous terrain. The dog is easy to please, but tends to be reckless in his excitement. In a real life situation, his size could cause trouble if he isn’t aware of his body. 

Their search-and-rescue trainer suggested setting up more practice scenarios with a variety of people to help generalize Arlo’s training. 

Thankfully, Katsuki has an abundance of people who were more than willing to participate in Arlo’s training. 

All Might even allowed them to use portions of Ground Beta that had yet to be fixed to simulate a real urban search and rescue scenario. They spent an hour having Arlo find various classmates who have hidden themselves among the rubble. 

“Think he’ll be able to use this in the field?” Dunce Face asks once they’ve all gathered together again after Arlo completed his task. 

“Don’t see why not,” says Katsuki. He tosses the toy for Arlo to chase. “He’d be useful if there isn’t anyone with a surveillance-type quirk to see if there are any survivors. Dogs were used a lot for this stuff before quirks existed.” 

Ashido wraps her arms around Arlo’s neck when he returns and squeezes, her cheek squishing against his. “I would be so happy if I saw his cute little face after being trapped and waiting to die alone.” 

“That’s so morbid,” Kirishima says with a surprised laugh. 

In a way, Katsuki understands what she meant. Arlo could provide a symbol of hope to trapped victims who may have given up on being rescued. While the dogs seem to know the weight of their jobs, they are also under the impression that they are playing a game. Every person found is a chance for a reward. That enthusiasm can be refreshing to those in bleak situations. 

Arlo shoves the ball at Katsuki’s thigh and pants noisily, frothy spit lining his jowls. Katsuki tugs with him before letting go so the dog can do his usual victory lap. 

From his transmission screen, Katsuki sees Arlo choose to climb the stairs, avoiding the few damaged steps that look a little sketchy. The dog pauses at the top and the mic picks up the snuffling of his nose before he chooses a side. It’s weird to be watching from Arlo’s point of view without being there with him physically. The camera is clipped to the chest portion of the vest’s padded y-front so Katsuki’s line of sight is rather low. 

He knows Arlo finds something when the dog stops pausing to scent the air and instead marches determinedly. 

The front of the building seems to have taken the worst of the damage, but Arlo approaches an area where the ground drops are completely. Katsuki can’t tell if the all the floors in that area did the same or if just the second story has a hole from his view. 

Arlo starts to go forward, inching towards the side where it’s still connected. 

Katsuki feels his pulse quicken. “Easy, boy,” he warns quietly into his radio. “Easy.” 

The dog picks his way across carefully and towards the end leaps towards more solid ground, sending debris skittering downward with ominous crackles. 

“Hello?” A voice calls, distorted through the radio. “Anyone there?” 

Arlo barks and surges forward. As he turns a corner, Katsuki can see a figure come into view. A man is sitting against the wall, holding his arm like it pains him, and eyes the dog warily. 

“Hey, this is Dynamight and search-dog, Arlo,” Katsuki says as Arlo steps closer.

The man laughs, and it’s breathy with relief like he can’t quite fathom what’s going on. “Oh man, I didn’t know this was a thing anymore.” Katsuki can see his hand carefully release his arm and reach out to pet Arlo, hesitant at first, but slowly growing confident. “Is anyone coming to get me?” 

Katsuki pauses to flag down the sidekick from earlier. “He found someone. What’s the status of the building?” 

“Hello, sir,” she says, ignoring Katsuki in favor of talking to the distraught man on the skin. “This is Pro Hero Limelight. Are you injured? We are currently stabilizing the building, but we know your location and will send heroes to get you out safely soon. Stay where you are and someone will be there soon.” 

“I think I sprained my wrist when I fell,” the guy says. “How long will this take?” 

“Shouldn’t be more than fifteen minutes if all goes well.” 

The man nods and breathes in shakily. “I don’t suppose the dog can stay?” 

“I’m afraid not,” Limelight says sympathetically. “He has to locate more people.” 

At Katsuki’s request, the man fishes a cheese cube from Arlo’s pouch and feeds it to the dog, murmuring appreciations. 

“Arlo,” Katsuki says to get his attention. “You ready? Search!” 

He pauses for a moment, no doubt trying to figure out why he’s being asked to leave his target, but then doubles back and returns to searching, nose in the air. If the man’s scent throws him off, Arlo doesn’t show it and makes his way down a hallway that has seen better days. 

Several doors have been sprung open and Arlo briefly pokes his nose into them before deciding there is no one. 

At one point, Katsuki worries he may have lost the scent because the dog circles back a couple times like he’s not sure where to go. And finally, he returns to a doorway that he passed several times. Inside there are fallen pictures and toys strewn across the floor. 

Arlo stops in front of a room that’s blocked by a tipped wardrobe. He whines, tests the stability with a paw and immediately retracts when it creaks. There’s something there, Katsuki thinks, because he keeps pacing back and forth in front of it. 

“Go through,” Katsuki tells him. And the dog whines again and tries once again to go over. He backs away, breaths frantic with frustration. Then, the dog lays down, which makes his neck fur fall over the camera lens and shadows his view. 

Arlo crawls forward, nails digging into the floor and vest scraping against the top of the wardrobe. He makes it through and shakes out his fur and then alerts. 

Only from his camera angle, Katsuki can see the little girl, curled up with her knees to her chest under the bed. 

“Good boy,” Katsuki praises. 

Arlo shoves his head under the bed, eliciting a muffled squeak from the terrified kid. 

Katsuki nearly smacks his forehead in exasperation at the dog’s exuberance. “Arlo, down.” 

There’s a soft thump as the dog’s elbows and rump hit the floor. He can hear the steady swishing of his tail. 

The girl stares at Arlo, eyes round and watery. 

Katsuki reaches to unmute himself, but Limelight’s hand on his shoulder stops him. She shakes her head wordlessly. 

Arlo is patient and slowly makes his way closer to the child, crawling slowly and pausing after every move so she doesn’t get frightened. And once he’s practically pressed up against her, he noses at her cheek gently and licks her outstretched little fingers. 

She sniffles, and then she’s throwing herself against him with a whimper that turns into a sob. She tires herself out quickly, soothed by Arlo’s gentle presence. 

Katsuki clicks on his transmitter. “Hey, kid, are you Yuko?” He tries his best to keep his voice friendly. “My hero name is Dynamight, and the dog is my canine partner, Arlo. Your mom sent us to help find you.” 

She startles when he speaks, then seems to notice the camera, and nods quickly. Her cheeks are tear-stained, glowing faintly in the dim light that manages to reach under the bed from the window. She hiccups quietly. “Arlo?” 

Katsuki nods, even though she can’t see him. “Yeah, that’s his name. He worked super hard to find you.” 

She strokes his fur. “Really?” 

“Yep,” Katsuki says, “and if you want, he’s got some cheese bites in his pocket. You can give him one. That way he knows he did a good job.” He mutes himself and turns to the sidekick. “How much longer until someone can go in?” 

“Can’t be much longer, hang tight.” 

The audio crackles to life as Yuko giggles, having given Arlo his cheese reward. The dog’s tail thumps loudly and he licks her hand to get any remaining hint of food. 

“Hey, kid, you’re being hella brave right now. Think you can wait a little longer before I come get you?” 

She hums affirmatively. 

Limelight takes over and talks with the girl, asking her questions and engaging with her to keep her distracted while she waits. She even manages to get her out from under the bed. Katsuki shuffles impatiently beside the pro hero, itching to go in already. He doesn’t like Arlo being so out of reach. 

The sound distorts, and the little girl shrieks as the building seems to groan and creak suddenly. There’s a spray of debris and from Arlo’s camera, Katsuki sees Yuko throw her arms over her head to avoid getting hit. Katsuki hears shouting from the heroes nearby. 

“Arlo, cover!” 

He’s relieved the dog understands him despite the chaos and moves to shield the kid, pressing against her protectively so that her body is safely tucked under his large frame. It’s a command typically used for deep pressure therapy, but he supposes it works as well here. 

And as the radio falls silent, Katsuki shares a look with Limelight. 

“Yuko?” She asks. “Are you okay?” 

She gives an affirmative. “When can I get out?” She whimpers. 

“Soon, sweetie. Just hang in there.” 

The second Katsuki gets the all clear, he rushes in, carefully picking his way across as fast as possible. Katsuki stands at the doorway blocked by the dresser. 

Arlo is still on the girl’s lap, and in Katsuki's presence, he lifts his head, tail thumping against the ground. Katsuki uses his quirk lightly to boost himself over the dresser. 

Yuko looks at him with wide eyes, face tense like she’s not sure what to make of him. 

Patting Arlo on the head, Katsuki crouches so he’s at eye level. “Hey Yuko, I’m Dynamight, Arlo’s handler. I’m gonna take you to your mom.” 

The girl looks between him and Arlo, who’s leaning comfortably against Katsuki’s legs. Silently, she reaches for him. 

Katsuki has little experience with kids—the only significant one was babysitting the kids from his remedial courses and even then, it doesn’t wasn’t one of his strong suits. He awkwardly lifts Yuko into his arms, one arm supporting her and the other free so he can use his quirk. 

“Hang on tight.” 

She doesn’t say a word, silent as the grave, but she wraps her tiny arms around his neck and buries her face into his shoulder. 

The way back is slower, more careful with Arlo in tow and the child clinging to him. Katsuki itches to pick up the pace, but reminds himself that slow and steady is safer. There’s no way the kid’s frantic mother wouldn’t rip him a new one should anything happen to her. 

Once outside, Katsuki breathes a sigh of relief and turns to look at Arlo. The dog is coated with dust and debris, lightening his normally dark fur to a patchy gray-white along his exposed pelt. That vest is definitely going to need a wash. 

“Yuko!” 

The girl squirms in his arms upon hearing her mother’s cry and Katsuki nearly drops her, fumbling awkwardly before setting her on the ground. The kid’s mom ducks under the caution tape, heedless of the irate officer’s, and rushes forward, falling to her knees to scoop up her child and tucks her into the crook of her neck. 

“Oh, my baby,” she breathes, kissing the crown of her head. “My baby, my baby. You’re okay, sweetie, momma’s here.” 

Finally safe, Yuko melts into the embrace and wails. 

Arlo whines softly at the noise, unsure of what to do in the face of a distressed child receiving comfort from elsewhere. Katsuki reaches over to press the dog’s face against his leg, scratching lightly at his chin. “Good boy, Arlo.” 

When the intensity of the reunion dies down, Katsuki shepherds the pair towards the ambulance to get the kid checked out. He makes a hasty retreat once someone else takes over for their care. 

He takes Arlo to a quieter location to unbuckle his vest and check the dog over. He’s got bits of plaster and dirt clumps stuck in the feathers of his tail and overall, is rather dusty. Katsuki tries to pick out most of it and ruffles his fur to shake out whatever he can. Arlo basks in the attention, all giant doggy grins and wagging tails. He dutifully lifts each paw in turn so Katsuki can take off his boots and check for any lacerations between his toes. 

Katsuki eventually sits back, satisfied that his dog is uninjured, and just looks at him. Arlo stares back. 

Delighted, Katsuki throws his head back and laughs. “Damnit, Arlo,” he says, tugging the dog into a hug. “You are the fucking best.” The dog rests his chin on Katsuki’s shoulder and sighs softly like he knows and wonders why Katsuki ever doubts him. 

Best Jeanist appears, hair slightly tussled, but otherwise no worse for the wear. “He did it.” 

“Damn right he did!” Katsuki grins up at his mentor. He can’t help the twinge of satisfaction when the man holds out an expectant hand to Arlo and gives the offered paw a firm shake. 

And because Best Jeanist is still Best Jeanist, he gripes at Katsuki for sitting on the ground and dirtying his hero costume. Katsuki scowls, but stands and tries his best to pat off as much as he can. 

“Excuse me?” 

Katsuki turns to see Yuko’s mother standing with her daughter propped on one hip. Yuko must’ve gotten the clean bill of health from the medics as she has a red lollipop in her hand and seems more content. 

“May I…” she trails off, angling her head towards Arlo. 

Oh. 

Katsuki nods and tells Arlo to sit. 

The lady crouches in front of Arlo, and up close Katsuki can see the dark smudge of her make-up, messy from crying, and the glimmer of unshed tears just barely being held back. 

“Thank you,” she tells the dog, voice wobbly. “For saving my little girl.” 

With the hand not holding Yuko, she pets Arlo so tenderly like he’s something precious, stroking the top of his head and running her fingers over his neck fur. Arlo sits patiently, chest puffed out like he knows this is an important moment. 

Yuko reaches to pet him too. Arlo returns the pat with a gracious (slobbery) kiss to her cheek, eliciting a delighted shriek from the child. The kid throws herself at Arlo, tiny arms wrapping around his neck. Arlo’s tail starts to swish, and Katsuki is struck with how young Yuko looks—even standing straight, her head is barely level with Arlo’s. 

And then Katsuki is also being pulled into a hug and he fights the knee-jerk reaction to wriggle in protest, instead frozen in surprise. Yuko’s mother has him in a firm grip and he can feel the hitching of her breaths in his ear. 

This is frankly too many emotions around him, Katsuki hopes if he stands like a limp rag doll in her hold, she’ll let him loose. Just over her shoulder, Best Jeanist looks pointedly at him, the expression hardening the more time passes with Katsuki stuck there. 

He awkwardly lifts a hand to pat her back in a pathetic attempt to return the hug, heat rising to his cheeks when Best Jeanist nods his approval. 

At long last, she releases him, still holding his shoulders so she can force him to make eye contact. She smiles, a watery sort of thing, like she’s about to cry all over again. “I bet your mama is very proud of you, young man.” 

Katsuki doesn’t even get the chance to do anything other than gape at her with wide eyes because she leaves, leading Yuko by the hand. 

“Ugh, how embarrassing!” Katsuki splutters, breaking out of his stupor. He hides his face in Arlo’s fur so no one can see how red his face is. 

Best Jeanist, however, is an asshole and just laughs at his plight and squeezes his shoulder.