Chapter Text
“Uggghhhhhhh…” Izuku groaned, leaning back on his cheap office chair. The hinges squeaked as the backrest bent a little, coarse fabric doing little to cushion his aching spine. With one final stretch, arms reaching high above his head, he slowly stood up. His joints popped as he flexed some more, chasing away the stiffness that came with working a desk job.
Izuku loved his job. Truly. It paid decently well, it had good benefits, his boss was nice, and overall, it was stable. Sure, it would be nice to move around more and not sit in his office all day, but he couldn't have it all. He made up for that by going on a run every weekend. And honestly, Izuku considered himself lucky to have the job in the first place. He had to drop out of high school to take care of his mother, so going back to school and later finding work had been really difficult.
But here he was, with a decent house he’d inherited from his mom, a full fridge, and the weekends off. Speaking of the weekend, today was Friday and Izuku couldn’t wait to get home. He was going to spend his time off binging this new show about the history of monster hybrids. Humans used to share the world with monsters—big, terrifying, deadly creatures. They caused so much destruction that humans had to build walls around their cities for survival (and that was ignoring the flying ones). But with that problem eventually solved, a new one arose: humans loved danger. Which was why, before monsters met extinction, they started breeding them. Rather than breeding with other monsters, however, they were mixed with animals to form less deadly—but still just as cool—pets. These days, people could get all sorts of domesticated monster hybrids, although they were usually for the more well-off as they were quite expensive. The newly released show went into all the details of how humans got to this point, and Izuku was super excited to watch all the episodes at once. After all, Izuku was a bit of a monster nerd. He loved them.
At least, that was his original plan.
It did not include finding a weird stray kitten on the side of the road.
He had just stopped by the corner store to stock up on snacks, and his hands were full of bags when he noticed some rustling in an alley nearby. It was too quiet to be a person, but it seemed panicked, and almost frantic. Despite Izuku’s interest in monsters, he’d also been told he had a bleeding heart—too kind, too compassionate. And this instance was one of many in which he’d exemplified that trait. Being unable to ignore the sound, Izuku dropped his bags on a nearby bench and slowly crept closer. His favorite red shoes (no, they were not dorky, thank you very much) crunched gravel gently beneath their well-worn soles.
Once he grew close enough to the grimy brick wall, Izuku peeked around the corner. Green curls fell over his eyes, obscuring his already limited vision. After pushing them away with a huff and shuffling a little further into the alley, Izuku saw…
Nothing.
There was nothing there. Just…trash. There was some random litter scattered throughout the alley—Izuku grit his teeth at the fact that people were too inconsiderate to throw away their own junk—and a tattered trash bag close by, which smelled worse than hell and was leaking some fluid Izuku didn’t even want to think about.
He spun on his heel and was about to go fetch his bags when he heard the rustling again. This time, instead of outright observing, Izuku was going to be sneaky —like in those spy movies he loved to watch. With a bated breath, he very sloooowwwly turned his head, green eyes sharp and searching. Still, even with his newfound stealth, there was nothing.
Until…
There was something!
A shifting inside that gross, smelly, disgusting trash bag. The same gross, smelly, disgusting trash bag that Izuku was now very reluctantly sticking his hands into. He swallowed the bile which had regurgitated in his throat as his eyes watered from the stench, searching the inside before… Ouch! Something bit him! He quickly grabbed the culprit.
“Aha! There you are, you little rascal,” he declared triumphantly. “Let’s get you out of this filth.”
Izuku dragged the fighting creature out of the bag and held it up to the yellow-orange street light. In his scarred and now bitten hands was a skinny little male kitten. It mewed weakly, and Izuku wanted to die right then and there. It was SO CUTE! He had to give it a little kiss.
But just before his lips met the furry animal's forehead, he stopped. It probably wasn't the best idea to put his mouth on a runt he’d just pulled out of the trash, even if said runt was absolutely adorable.
It had brownish fur growing in patches over pink and infected skin. His ears were way too big for his tiny little head, positioned slightly lower than Izuku expected. While he thought they would be near top, they were actually on either side, almost parallel to one another. Where his ears should have been were two little weird bumps that rested under the skin. Frowning, Izuku chalked it up to a mutation or an infection, which wouldn’t be surprising. His teeth were also concerningly long, with claws to match, and he had a thin tail that was crooked at the end. All in all, the kitten was definitely a little… odd. But that didn’t matter. He was different, and that was ok! There was absolutely nothing wrong with being a little special.
The kitten’s eyes were practically held shut with the slime that coated his skin. And as much as Izuku dreaded the hassle of caring for the pathetic looking creature, he couldn’t just leave him here. That would be cruel. Hell, the kitten looked one gust of wind away from falling over and calling it a day. With a resigned sigh, Izuku scooped up his bags with one hand and cradled the kitten close with his other. The little guy was barely bigger than Izuku’s palm. Small fluffy legs waved in between Izuku's fingers as weak mews of protest left the runt's tiny mouth. He did his best not to laugh at the adorable little sounds as he carried him home.
***
Izuku almost cried in relief when he finally caught sight of his house. The walk wasn’t long, and usually he was more than capable of doing it without breaking a sweat, but he normally wasn’t carrying all of his bags with one aching hand while restraining a squirming kitten in the other. And that didn’t account for how disgusting he’d felt the whole way home after digging through that appalling trash bag.
With a relieved sigh, Izuku dropped the bags unceremoniously on his front porch, not caring about crushing his chips or breaking his bottle of juice. His fingers were stiff and tingling, with red welts carved into his skin as blood slowly returned to the digits. Once his hand started functioning again, Izuku dug through his pockets for his keys, turning up his nose with a grimace as he stained his clean work pants with dumpster juice. His other arm was also protesting from being held up in one position for so long. He had plenty of blood flow through that one due to the little rascal he was carrying—the same one that currently nommed on his finger like an afternoon snack. Unfortunately, the blood was flowing outside his body from all the bites he'd received.
After opening the door, Izuku made a mental note of everything he touched so he could disinfect it later. There was no cleaning product in the world that could help Izuku feel less gross right now, so instead, he focused on the more pressing issues at hand: his groceries, and his new, nearly-dead kitten.
After standing and muttering for way too long to be efficient, Izuku decided against putting the groceries away for now. He didn’t want to get near his kitchen in the state he was in—at least not before he could wash his hands… which brought him to the more complex of his issues: the kitten
Izuku had been avoiding thoughts about him the whole way home. It wasn’t that he minded thinking about the kitten per se—who didn’t like thinking about nice, soft, fluffy kittens? It was more that he didn’t want to think about what he had to do to the kitten. He needed to clean it, and cats were notorious for hating water. Plus, this one was extra feisty. His poor arm had already suffered enough abuse.
But he didn’t want to spend hours driving around looking for an open shelter, either. And he couldn’t let the creature stay this filthy if it would be staying in his home. The awful smell radiating from the small fluff ball had him feeling like he was going to puke.
So he was at an impasse. Bathing the kitten was necessary.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, little one,” Izuku cooed, holding the hissing, squirming boy a safe distance from his precious face. If there wasn't so much gunk sealing its eyes shut, Izuku was sure they'd be giving him a terrifying glare—the animal wriggled and struggled as if Izuku was trying to kill it.
“I think you’ll be happier when we’re done,” he added, feeling hopeful. Or… maybe he was just projecting.
Having slid his shoes off, he made a beeline for the bathroom, deciding to just get it over with.
After shutting the door with a soft click, Izuku set the kitten down in the tub for the first time that day. He washed his hand four times (and a fifth just to be safe) while the small creature observed its new surroundings. Once his hands were cleaned and cleaned and cleaned again, Izuku bent down and scooped up the floor mats, shoving them away into the bathroom cabinet so they wouldn’t get absolutely filthy.
He then turned his attention to the illegally small criminal in his tub who was trying, and failing, to get out. The smooth porcelain made escape almost impossible, and Izuku couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at the adorable sight. Maybe taking care of this kitten wouldn’t be too bad.
***
Only a few minutes later, Izuku was struggling. Taking care of this kitten was hell. He’d ran a shallow warm bath to clean the grime off the fluff ball, whose screeches and yowls now murdered his ears. Claws were simultaneously destroying his arms. The beastie even got a few scratches on his face. Oh god, fuck this.
Izuku resorted to sacrificing his cooking mittens. He needed new ones anyways. Wincing as the coarse fabric rubbed against his fresh wounds, Izuku slowly walked back to the bathroom, dreading what was to come. He absent-mindedly thought about the definite need to disinfect his wounds soon, else he’d probably need his hands cut off to save him from the awful infections.
Once he was back in the prison of a bathroom, the door safely shut behind him, Izuku lunged forward and scooped the small feline up, grinning as tiny claws made contact with thick fabric.
“Haha! Can’t scratch me now, you rascal!” He grinned, satisfied with his engineering. “I’m gonna get you all cleaned up, and there is nothing you can do about it.
“ Ksssssss—mmmreooow! ” Hissed the kitten in response, almost like he understood Izuku’s words. Not that it mattered, because soon enough he was hissing for a whole different reason. Izuku submerged the fighting rascal in the water, marveling in disgusted shock as clouds of grime floated off from his skin. He was like a living bath bomb. There was so much dirt that Izuku absentmindedly wondered if he was going to clog the drain.
***
After replacing the water many, many times, and scrubbing the kitten gently but thoroughly, Izuku was starting to see some progress. It turned out that the little guy’s fur was actually a blondish, white color with little orange and black boots on his paws. Now clean, the small bumps atop his head could be confirmed as mutation, rather than infection, as they certainly seemed to be a natural part of his skeleton. With a cup, Izuku scooped some fresh, clean water over the kitten's head, rubbing softly at the corners of his eyes, urging them to open as the slime was washed away. The water and rubbing seemed to work, as soon enough, those big doe eyes finally revealed themselves— a harsh, crimson red.
Izuku was quite surprised. He never expected the grimy runt to be so pretty. When he’d finished, he wrapped the little thing in a baby blue towel, clean and fresh and apparently still really, really pissed if the way he glared at the greenette was anything to go by. Although, there wasn’t much he could do with his little legs trapped tightly in the towel burrito. Izuku thought about taking a shower himself, but he decided to just wash his arms in the sink, making sure to scrub all the dirt from his wounds. God, it stung so bad! Looking around the space to assess the damage, Izuku grimaced at the sight of the bathtub; it was filthy and definitely needed a good scrubbing before it could be used again. How could such a tiny creature hold so much dirt in the first place?
“Ok! Step 2 in ‘Rehabilitating my Rescue Kitten:’ Food. Do you want food?” Izuku asked, eyeing the blonde head of fur that poked from the top of the giant towel. “You look really skinny… I’ll see what I have in the fridge.”
Izuku scooped up the fluffy kitten burrito and cradled it close, no longer worried about being scratched now that the kitten's limbs were bound, and sauntered over to the kitchen.
“Y’know, I can’t just keep calling you kitten or rascal forever,” he mused. “You need a name. Hmm…”
Pinching his lip between his fingers as he always did when he was lost in thought, Izuku began to brainstorm: what should he call the little thing?
After setting his new charge down on the counter, Izuku set about putting away the forgotten bags. He gingerly opened them, not wanting to touch their contaminated handles with his now clean hands, and started putting things away.
He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice the towel unraveling, nor the kitten making his way out. It was only after Izuku heard a sharp mew and a thud that he spun around. The air caught in his lungs when he saw the towel empty.
Oh no.