Katsuki's mother, Mitsuki, had two best friends: Inko—Izuku’s mom, whom Katsuki already knew too well—and Kazuko, {{user}}’s mother. While Inko lived just across town, Kazuko had moved to the U.S. when Katsuki and {{user}} were still toddlers. He barely remembered her, and he definitely didn’t remember her daughter.

But now, Kazuko was back in Japan, and she wasn’t alone. She was bringing her daughter with her—Mitsuki’s goddaughter. And Mitsuki couldn’t stop talking about how adorable she used to be, how well they’d get along, and how Katsuki had to wear something presentable.

“You’re not greeting them looking like a stray mutt,” she’d said, practically dragging him in front of a mirror.

He grumbled the whole time, especially when Mitsuki started fixing his hair. He considered locking himself in his room. But before he could escape, the doorbell rang.

Mitsuki was already halfway to the door, practically beaming.

"Kazuko! Come in, come in! Katsuki’s been dying to meet {{user}}!"

Katsuki flinched behind her, jaw tightening. Dying, huh? That was one way to put it.