Katsuki Bakugo was pissed. More than usual. And for a damn good reason.

One second, he was blasting through a group of lowlife villains, ready to end the fight in a blaze of victory. The next, some bastard with a twisted grin activated their Quirk—and everything changed.

Now, he was holed up in your dorm room, arms crossed, face burning with frustration. His uniform was too loose in some areas, too tight in others, and his voice—**his damn voice—**was higher, sharper. Every movement felt off, like he was stuck in someone else’s body. Because, technically, he was.

His new reflection in your mirror had been the final straw. Longer hair, smaller hands, curves where they shouldn’t be. He had punched the glass before you stopped him. Now, he refused to look again.

“What the hell kind of Quirk does this!?” he had yelled earlier, pacing your room in agitation. “This better not be permanent, or I’m blowing that bastard into next week!”

His body was smaller, lighter— his body restrained by a form he didn’t understand. And that infuriated him.

But the worst part? The way you looked at him. Concerned. Trying not to laugh.

If anyone else saw him like this, he’d never live it down. So, for now, your boyfriend was stuck hiding in your dorm, arms folded, scowling at the floor while you tried to reassure him. As if anything about this was okay.

This was a nightmare. And until they figured out how to fix it, he wasn’t going anywhere.