Barking up the wrong tree [Part One]

Izuku slumped against the cold brick wall, sighing to himself, and set his grocery bags down to give his hands a quick break. Everything felt like it took so much more energy, he was lucky his boss had insisted he take time off work – he wasn’t sure he could have made it through an entire patrol. Ever since he’d gotten the phone call, everything had just seemed too hard, like his body suddenly weighed four times more than usual, or he’d been living in space for a year and finally come back to normal gravity. Every step took a concentrated effort, every forced smile made his jaw ache, and every time he opened his mouth to speak, it felt like his throat had closed up, had forgotten how to let sound through.

A quiet whine piqued his attention, his eyes darting toward the darker end of the little alleyway between buildings. He waited, still and silent, for the sound to hit him again. It was weak, pitiful, but it sounded once more, and Izuku straightened up to investigate.

“Oh,” he said softly, watching a furry head pop up in surprise. “Hi.”

The dog retreated, huddling back into the damp concrete corner, and Izuku did his best to not move and startle it further.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, as if the dog might actually answer him somehow. “Do you need food?”

A pair of floppy ears perked up a little at the word, and Izuku reached for one of his grocery bags, digging through the items he’d just bought. He wasn’t sure exactly what dogs were allowed to eat, but the cooked chicken he’d bought for his dinner seemed like a fairly safe bet. He opened up the packaging with his fingernails, tearing off a chunk with no bones or skin, just in case, then offered it to the nervous little guy. The dog didn’t move, just stared at him, and after a moment Izuku set it down on the concrete, backing away a few steps.

“Go on, it’s for you,” Izuku assured it. “Eat up.”

Warily, the dog approached, keeping its eyes locked on Izuku as it ducked its head to get the chicken.

“There’s a good boy,” Izuku praised, already tearing off another chunk. “Is that tasty?”

The dog moved a little closer this time, and Izuku finally got a good look at the shaggy tan fur, all dirty and knotted, and the big brown eyes that watched him warily. It accepted the chicken from his hand this time, quickly pulling away again the moment it had a good grip, and once more it watched Izuku carefully as it munched.

“You must be lost, huh?” Izuku said softly. “You’re such a handsome little thing, someone must be worried sick about you.”

His heart ached as he said the words, but he forced himself to swallow, despite the lump forming in his throat. There was no collar on the poor little thing, and with how dirty it looked, he was pretty sure it had been out there for a few days, at least. No wonder it was so hungry and scared.

“Maybe I should take you with me,” Izuku mused to himself. “I can call the vet and see if anyone is out looking for you.”

The dog didn’t look up, too focused on sniffing the ground in search of more chicken, and Izuku managed a tiny, faint smile.

“What do you think? Want to come home with me?”

The dog’s ears perked up, its tail wagging tentatively, and Izuku offered it a hand, watching as it inched closer to sniff his fingers. It paused for a moment, then gave him a little lick, lapping at his chickeny fingers. Izuku choked out a single, pained laugh, and the dog’s tail wagged a little more confidently, nudging his hand with its nose.

“I don’t have a leash,” Izuku lamented, glancing around like he might find one lying in a dumpster, until the dog nudged his knee lightly, tail wagging. “You gonna be good and follow me?”

He half-expected the dog to answer, for some reason, but it just looked up at him with those big eyes, floppy ears perked up a little to listen.

“Come on then, little buddy.”

He picked up his bags, and the dog watched him with a strange intensity, taking two steps forward but leaving a gap between them.

“Follow?”

The dog took another step, and Izuku nodded awkwardly, turning to start back toward his house. He took a few more steps, then looked back over his shoulder, making sure the dog was still following. Sure enough, despite the cautious way it moved and the oddly serious look on its face, the dog still followed him steadily.

Thankfully, the walk home was a short one, and soon Izuku was unlocking his front door, standing back to allow the dog a wide berth as it followed him in. Izuku was pretty sure bath time was first on the schedule for the stinky trash-eater, but he wasn’t sure the little thing was gonna allow him to get close enough for that.

“I guess I should get you some dog food,” Izuku mumbled, more to himself than the dog. “And a bed. And I should really book a vet appointment for you.”

The dog growled quietly, and Izuku blinked at it in surprise – he supposed even strays knew what the word vet meant.

More out of habit than anything else, he turned on the TV as he passed by. It went straight to the news channel, the only channel he’d bothered to watch for almost a week, and as he set to work unpacking his groceries, he listened.

“The search is still on for a dozen missing heroes across the country this week, with police and heroes alike working around the clock to find leads. So far, reports don’t indicate any evidence that an unfortunate demise may have befallen our protectors, so we continue to hope for their quick return.”

A whine made Izuku turn around quickly, finding the dirty stray sitting in front of the television, head cocked to the side as it watched. Clips of different heroes began to flash across the screen, and Izuku fell still when a familiar sharp grin appeared, flying across the screen with bright, flashy explosions marking his path. Tears pricked at his eyes, but he blinked them back stubbornly, refusing to fall back into that cycle.

Another little whine, and he looked down, surprised to see the sweet little thing sitting at his feet, an old plushie held gently in its jaw.

“Is that...?” Izuku paused, crouching down to look closer. “Aren’t you clever?”

The dog wagged its tail, dropping the faded Dynamite plushie on his feet, and Izuku tentatively reached out, stroking its floppy ears and smiling when its tail wagged slowly.

“That’s my Kacchan,” he said softly, picking up the little toy. “My favourite person in the whole world.”

The tail wagged a little faster, and Izuku clutched the toy to his chest, feeling himself well up again as he stroked the dog’s ears.

“I miss him a lot,” Izuku said softly. “But he’ll come back to me soon, I’m sure of it. And he’s gonna love you, if we don’t find your parents before then. But for now, we should get you cleaned up, yeah? Can’t have you stinking up the place. So let me give you a quick bath, then I promise I’ll get you something really tasty to eat. Sound like a plan?”

The dog whined again, but it turned around obediently, trotting off down the hall. Izuku chuckled faintly, shaking his head, but he took his own turn to follow this time, letting the dog, somehow, lead him to his own bathroom.

“You really are a smart little thing, huh?” Izuku praised, when the dog turned back to look at him. “I guess it makes sense, you look like one of those herder-breed dogs, you probably like telling people where to go.”

He leaned over to start the bath running, jumping when the dog’s nose shoved him lightly, whining again while Izuku just blinked at him in confusion.

“What?” he asked. “Are you in pain?”

The dog cocked its head to the side, and Izuku frowned slightly.

“Are you trying to put me in the bath? I had a shower before I went shopping!”

The head cocked a little further, and Izuku looked back at the bath, at the water slowly rising up the sides.

“What, am I making it too cold or something?” Izuku snorted.

The dog’s tail wagged again, its tongue hanging out a little, and Izuku just stared for a moment at the little smile.

“What, you want a warmer bath?” he asked, watching the tail wag faster. “You can’t be serious.”

He reached over all the same, turning up the temperature a little, and the dog nudged him again lightly, tail still wagging happily.

“I can’t believe I’m talking to a dog.”

A paw rose this time, patting at the plushie still clutched in Izuku’s hand, and Izuku couldn’t help but smile to himself.

“Yeah, I guess I go a little crazy without Kacchan here,” he agreed. “Alright, nice and warm now, time to get clean!”

He wrapped his arms around the big furball, carefully lifting it into the tub, and to his surprise it didn’t squirm or protest, didn’t try to wriggle away and escape, it just accepted its fate, letting itself be placed in paw-deep warm water. It made sense, kind of – it clearly had owners somewhere, it hadn’t grown up on the street, so being back in a house must have felt safe. He was glad he could offer that safety to the poor little thing, until it got back home.

“You’re so fluffy under all that dirt,” Izuku cooed, as he hosed the dog down with the shower head. “I had no idea you were such a big fluffypants!”

The dog stood oddly still as he worked, letting him lather it up in shampoo and hose it back down, carefully clean off its face with a washcloth, and finally drain out the dirty water, bundling it up in a big towel to dry off.

“You’re very sweet,” Izuku said softly. “Let’s get some food and some sleep, then we can try to find your home in the morning.”

He pulled out his phone as they headed back to the kitchen, doing a quick search for dog-safe foods, and the dog just hovered patiently in the doorway, watching.

“Celery? Really?” he mumbled to himself, scrolling down a page. “Celery is so gross, though.”

The dog whined, and Izuku glanced back, seeing its ears dropped low in an oddly pitiful expression.

“Sorry, you feeling left out? You can come closer.”

The dog took two steps forward, and Izuku managed a tiny smile.

“You want me to talk to you instead of to myself?”

The dog cocked its head again, and Izuku nodded.

“Kacchan loves celery, but I think it tastes like stale, crunchy water,” Izuku continued, opening up the fridge. “But I have some here that’s starting to go bad, so maybe you should try it and pick your side. What do you think? Want to eat some icky crunch?”

The damp tail wagged slightly, and Izuku broke off a piece, tossing it over for the dog to try. To his surprise, it chomped the whole thing down with no hesitation, looking up at him expectantly and making him chuckle.

“You pick Kacchan’s side, huh?” He took the rest from the fridge, dicing it up and putting it in a bowl. “Here, have this then.”

He set it down, and the dog hurried over, diving in like it hadn’t eaten in weeks. While it munched, Izuku set to work on his own food – cutting up the chicken he’d bought and throwing it in a bowl of lettuce, grimacing when he stared at the rest of the groceries. He’d been too ambitious, bought too many things that actually needed cooking, when he didn’t have an ounce of energy left to do it.

The dog nudged him stubbornly, and Izuku cracked another smile, ruffling its fluffy head fondly.

“Sorry, all out of celery. I have some more chicken, though, I bet you’ll like that even better.”

He took the bowl back, chuckling at the whine he got for it, but he was quickly forgiven when he set it back down. The dog dug in with a wagging tail, only occasionally stopping to glance up at Izuku and assess what he was doing.

“It’s better than instant noodles,” Izuku defended himself, when the dog stared judgmentally at his bowl. “At least I have a vegetable!”

The dog just turned back to its own bowl, finishing off the chicken before it followed Izuku into the living room, jumping up on the couch to sit beside him.

“You’re awfully affectionate for someone who wouldn’t come near me at first,” Izuku mused, stroking its ears. “I guess I earned your trust with that chicken, huh? It is pretty good chicken.”

The dog just put its head down on Izuku’s thigh, watching, and Izuku couldn’t help but laugh.

“Never mind, you just want to sneak my dinner, don’t you? You’ve had your chicken, this is my share!”

The dog whined, and Izuku managed a surprisingly genuine grin, shaking his head fondly as he fished out one last piece of chicken from his salad.

“Fine,” he conceded. “But this is the last one!”

The dog accepted it happily, barely even stopping to chew it on the way down, and Izuku shuffled a little closer, letting the warmth and weight of the dog seep into his leg.

“Kacchan is gonna love you, when he gets home,” he said softly. “I know I already told you that, but now I’m even more sure. Oh, he might not be happy about you being on the furniture, though. How much do you shed? I hope you don’t get fur all over everything.”

When he set his empty bowl aside, the dog climbed straight into his lap, only giving the bowl one quick sniff to make sure it was empty before it settled in to take a nap. Izuku stroked it contentedly, enjoying the feel of its soft fur under his hand and the warmth it radiated into him. It felt real, grounding, where his life had felt so empty and lifeless just a matter of hours ago. A small part of him hoped they wouldn’t find the dog’s owners, that it could just stay with him instead, a cuddly companion for when Katsuki was away on business trips.

The next thing he knew, the room was dark, and he was slumped awkwardly against the arm of the sofa. He blinked his eyes open to find a big, furry dog wrapped up in his arms, snoring softly as it dozed against him without a care in the world. Tan fur tickled his face, but he didn’t even mind – that short nap was the best he’d slept in days.

He slid down the couch a little, curling up on the cushions, and with the dog still wrapped up in his grasp, he closed his eyes.

[Next]