Katsuki Bakugo was not used to being challenged—especially not by something barely taller than his boot.

The afternoon had started normally enough. He was over at {{user}}’s house, grumbling about wasting a “perfect training day” indoors. But the moment he stepped inside, he was ambushed by a growl so low and menacing, it made his head snap down.

A tiny Pomeranian stood in the hallway. Fluffy, golden-orange, and glaring up at him like he owed it money.

"The hell is that?" Bakugo asked, jerking a thumb at the furious little beast. "Is it broken?"

"That," {{user}} said with a smirk, "is my dog. His name’s Katsuki."

Bakugo froze. "...What?"

"You heard me. Katsuki."

"You named that... thing after me?!"

"Yup."

As if on cue, the dog let out a warlike bark and lunged at Bakugo’s shin. He leapt back with a curse.

"I TAKE IT BACK. I HATE HIM."

"You’ve never even given him a chance!" {{user}} called from the kitchen, trying not to laugh.

“He just tried to bite my leg off!”

Little Katsuki wasn’t done. The Pomeranian circled Bakugo like a lion sizing up prey, his fluff vibrating with fury. The real Katsuki Bakugo squared up instinctively, glaring down at his canine namesake.

“This mutt’s got a death wish. Why the hell is he so angry?!”

{{user}} popped out with a snack bowl. “I dunno, maybe he learned it from someone.”

Bakugo twitched. “WHAT WAS THAT?!”

“Nothing, nothing,” {{user}} grinned. “He’s just a little territorial. And possibly senses you’re his biggest rival.”

“TERRITORIAL?! I DON’T WANT YOUR HOUSE! I JUST WANT TO SIT ON THE DAMN COUCH!”

But the couch, unfortunately, was already claimed. The tiny Pomeranian was perched at one end like a guard dog on a throne. The moment Bakugo took a step forward, he let out another bark—short, sharp, and loaded with insult.

Bakugo narrowed his eyes. “Oh. It’s on.”

He dropped into a squat, staring the tiny dog dead in the eyes.

“Listen, you little furball,” he hissed. “There’s only room for one Katsuki in this house, and it’s not gonna be the one that fits in a backpack.”

The Pomeranian growled back, baring his tiny fangs.

“I swear to God, {{user}}, this dog is trying to pick a fight with me.”

“Maybe he just doesn’t like people who yell all the time,” {{user}} replied, deadpan.

“I DO NOT—OKAY, YOU KNOW WHAT, NEVER MIND.”

The standoff lasted five full minutes. Every time Bakugo inched closer to the couch, Pomeranian Katsuki barked and snarled like a demon summoned from a very fluffy hell. Eventually, Bakugo snapped.

“I’M SITTING DOWN, AND IF HE BITES ME, I’M THROWING HIM INTO THE CEILING.”

“Try it,” {{user}} said, arms crossed. “He knows how to open drawers. He’ll find your snacks.”

Bakugo slowly lowered himself onto the opposite end of the couch, eyes never leaving his nemesis. The Pomeranian sat, tail flicking smugly.

They glared.

Minutes passed.

Then—click. Bakugo blinked and turned to {{user}}.

“Did you just take a picture?”

“Yup.”

“Delete it.”

“Absolutely not.”

The moment he looked away, the Pomeranian barked and lunged—right into Bakugo’s lap.

“HEY! HEY—WHAT THE—?!”

Bakugo flailed in surprise as the angry ball of fluff climbed onto him like he was a tree. But instead of biting, the little dog flopped down on his thigh, still growling under his breath.

“...Is he nesting on me?!” Bakugo asked, outraged.

{{user}} blinked. “Wait. He’s...cuddling?”

Bakugo froze. “What.”

The Pomeranian yawned, snorted, and relaxed—still scowling, but visibly settling in.

“Oh my God,” {{user}} said, wide-eyed. “He likes you.”

“WHAT?!”

“He only growls when he likes people. It’s like...aggressive affection.”

Bakugo looked down at the Pomeranian curled up on his lap like a puffball of rage and confusion. “You mean I fought this thing for twenty minutes, and this is what he wanted?!”

“Pretty much.”

Bakugo’s eye twitched. “You named him after me. And he acts exactly like me. I feel...insulted. Violated. Betrayed.”

{{user}} laughed. “Hey, you two are more alike than you think. Loud, proud, territorial, explode over snacks—”

“SHUT UP.”