Chapter Text
Katsuki realizes he’s missing gaps in his memory as he wakes up on his side. Everything feels weird, distorted; like the morning after the worst of a bad flu. His head buzzes and his limbs are weak, muscles twitching against the cool pavement. He blinks a few times in an attempt to make sense of the burry shapes dancing ahead.
How long have I been out?
“Oh no…” A soft voice breaks through the static.
His head rolls on his neck like deadweight, veering to the source.
The face in front of him is massive.
Katsuki scrambles backwards, panicked, limbs fighting over one another to get away. Why is she so close!? He hits the edge of a soda can, stunned at the sheer size of the tin as it rolls away. Everything around him is unexpectedly large, dipped in the long shadows of sunset.
He tries to hiss a familiar what the fuck, but the only thing that leaves him is an actual hiss.
A hiss.
Not the familiar whistle of air between his teeth but something guttural and instinctive, like the puff of his hair (fur— it’s fur) and the scrape of his hands against the ground.
It takes every ounce of willpower he possesses to tip his head down, to look, and there they are. Paws. Not hands— paws, like a fucking cat. Air snaps behind him, a result of the tail now attached to his form, puffed up and swinging in agitation.
“I didn’t mean to!” The girl squeaks, drawing his attention with how her voice grates on his sensitive ears. Her open mouthed horror embodies the panic thrumming in his chest.
“I thought you were someone else,” Her voice teeters on a wail, “I’m sorry!”
Her apologies mean nothing and when she reaches out for him it’s his new sense of instinct that flattens him against the wall, shrinking him into a hissing ball of terror. He doesn’t have a second to consider her words or the implications, only sure that her hands are the cause and she needs to keep them away. Recognition doesn’t spark to him like he hopes; he has no recollection of her, where they are— or how.
“If you just let me—” She reaches out to grab at him again, squatting down to get to his level.
Katsuki takes advantage, darting around the wobble of her legs. His front paw catches, tangles in a long stretch of fabric he realizes is the blazer of his uniform. It’s loose, empty, tossed onto the ground like he's abandoned it. Slumped to the right of his pants is his phone, blinking uselessly.
Another brush of movement behind him, the steady thump of a foot approaching and instinct hurls him away. Around the corner, he flings himself into the throng of an evening crowd. They had been in an alley off the main strip of a road.
His ears pick up the girl’s voice as she cries out to him, but it’s soon far— so far, lost amongst the incoming flood of sensations. His hearing is muffled, at best, but in this form it’s a stark opposite. Steam hissing from the crack of a nearby grate, whistling and piercing, the murmur of overhead conversation, raspy wisps of cold breath, a dog’s panting from two blocks over; the sounds overlap each other in an agonizing rush. He can’t form a coherent thought amidst it all— only, run.
No one takes notice of him at their feet. It’s different from the usual scrutiny he endures just from existing— the weight pressing his shoulders down from being All Might’s end, the villain of the sports festival, the raging spitfire Jeanist took pity on— the permanent target on his back has all but disappeared.
He’s completely on his own.
—
Seeking safety, his feet carry him to the campus ground before he can consider an alternative.
He dashes through the gate, surprise welling when it doesn’t slam shut on him. It must be before curfew or the sensors are ill equipped to deal with something as small as a cat. Which Katsuki thinks would be fucking stupid, with the world they live in. Did they seriously not consider it?
As soon as Heights Alliance looms over him, he halts to a skidding stop. Unused to this form, he trips over his front legs and rolls into a hopeless, shivering heap on the stiff grass. Frost seeps through his fur as he gives up. Never having seen a cat pant before only adds to his confusion, but it clearly isn’t impossible. His lungs ache beneath his ribs, similar and yet entirely different from the rise and fall of a good workout.
What should I do?
Breathing coming to a manageable huff, he considers returning to the alley. The raise of his fur in tension is an instinctual veto. Not that. Deep inside, he feels ridiculous for having to run, but his feline sensibilities preen at his newfound safety. Katsuki can’t recall how he had ended up in that alley, blocks away from UA, with some psycho girl and her quirk. Was she a villain? It is hard to consider, but Toga was young too— evil bitch.
He tries to think back to how it began but his thoughts are sluggish, his memory of the day like the slow drip of molasses. Katsuki can’t make sense of his thoughts as they are. Considering it might be a side effect of the quirk, he tries to assess what he can actually remember.
The school day, it’s Friday— he remembers irritation crawling in him the entirety of the day, prickling under his skin in a way he’s unaccustomed to. What had me so pissed off? Releasing a huff, bordering a soft whine, Katsuki’s claws flex free from his paws. He wants nothing more than to blast something, or hit someone. Hard.
His eyes drag up the brick of the dorms, trying to place a source of the ire— was it a classmate? Deku? He pivots from the thought as soon as it surfaces, feeling his hackles rise, brain flooding with a familiar rage. He distinctly remembers Deku being around less than normal— muttering incessantly over something he and the support extra were going to work through, but…
He had said goodbye, before leaving the classroom— wishing him a good trip.
Trip? Where was he going? It would make sense for Katsuki to have been off campus, then, if he was supposed to be going somewhere. But, he didn’t have anything with him— recalling only the loose clothes in the alley, no overnight bag or even his backpack.
Where the fuck would UA even let me go, after everything?
The closing of a door from around the building yanks him from his thoughts— startles him into action. He looks around, zeroing on a place for cover. He can’t be seen like this. He darts into the nearby bushes, ignoring the urge to hiss as the thin branches scrape along his fur and into his skin.
A light settles along his abandoned imprint in the frozen grass, bright enough to make Katsuki squint.
“I don’t see anything.” His ears twitch with Aizawa's familiar monotone.
1-B’s teacher’s voice, whatever his name is, is full of static through a walkie-talkie, “It was small.”
So the gates are good for something...
Aizawa sighs, one of the deeply disappointed exhales he reserves for returning any kind of score sheet, “I think it was an animal.”
Katsuki watches the footsteps thud closer as he approaches the grass. They slow as he reaches the bushes and then stop altogether. The brightness of the flashlight shifts, cutting through the branches to blind him. He squints through the onslaught, squirming in discomfort but not running in fear of eliciting a chase.
Aizawa narrows his gaze, dark eyes unnervingly perceptive even at this distance.
“Eraser?”
“It was just a cat.”
For a moment, neither of them move. Katsuki considers making a noise, some kind of plea— but what good would it do? Aizawa turns on his heels, heaving another sigh.
His footsteps seem loud, each crunch of the grass ringing like defeat.
"Better safe than sorry.” The static of the walkie-talkie ends with a feint click.
Katsuki all but collapses into the dirt as he edges out of sight, relief leaving him boneless and exhausted. He’s still fucking confused, sluggish. If he had been forced off campus, he didn’t have a semblance of a back up plan.
The teachers aren’t aware something has happened to him: he’s supposed to be gone. They won’t come looking for him, not like last time. The icy chill of the ground seeps into the pads of his feet and he shudders, intolerant of the cold, frustrated that this had to happen during the winter. The shivering breaks through the slow drag of his memories— the most time he ever has to spend outside during the winter is during class trips, and the hag’s birthday.
Shit.
The reason hits him like a well-timed fist from All Might.
He was supposed to be going home for her birthday dinner. Trussed up like some loser, on his best behavior for one night a year.
Renewed panic ignites— knowing the headache she’ll cause when he doesn’t show up, the calls, the screaming. He hadn’t been around for his disappearance during the summer, but he knows it had been a nightmare. It couldn’t have been pretty, not with the way Aizawa and All Might had dreaded the visit to their house. Their stiff posture on the family couch spoke volumes.
He settles down on his paws and considers attempting to return to his parent’s house, but the sheer amount of ground it would take to cover and the unexpected dangers make it too risky. The girl’s quirk might also be on a time limit— and fuck, he does not want to be in the streets if that happens. He’ll be plastered in the news for a whole new reason, branded some kind of fucking perv.
All Katsuki really wants is to settle into his own bed, to sleep it off. He tips his head up, squinting through the branches towards the darkened windows. The ledges of the rooms are too tall, he can’t trust his new limbs to support a climb like that.
It’s the most defeating feeling of the night. A bleak souvenir from Camino and the licensing exams— he can’t do everything. Bakugo Katsuki is only human.
Or was.
—
The phone hasn’t ceased buzzing against the pavement. Determined in its own way, even as the low battery signal flickers across the screen.
Missed Calls (18) HAG
Missed Calls (2) Old Man
Text Message (3) Kiri: yo, we on for the gym tmrw???
Kiri: ashido offered to spot u, lol since sero won’t do…
Kiri: forgot u were gonna b @ ur mom’s, have fun a…
Text Message (1) HAG: Don’t bother coming back if you can’t hand…
Text Message (1) threw the match: Bakugo. Do you have a copy of yester...
Voicemail (1) Old Man
Text Message (15) shitsquad
“Katsuki, call us when you’ve cooled off. I don’t know what she said but you know your mother. I’m not excusing it... we’ve all been under a lot of stress, her included. She’s worried. I really… I really wish we could’ve sat down for just one dinner, but I understand. Take the weekend if you need to. At least send me a text when you get a chance. I love you.”
A final hum, and the screen shorts into blackness. Abandoned in a deserted alleyway, next to a set of empty clothes.