Chapter Text
Holding down a domestication job at the Hybrid Rehabilitation and Integration Complex was not easy.
Your job - Senior Behavior Specialist - demanded long hours and unadulterated focus. You were tasked with domesticating the most troublesome of hybrids - from grizzlies to sea lions, you’d seen every large predator under the sun, and not one had left your care without successfully completing the program. Where others saw animals, you looked past the rabid exteriors to find the most human sides of them. And it had always, always worked.
Most days you were expected on site at 9 am - leaving your house at 8. Today however, you’d left your apartment early, around sunrise. You had plans to meet up with an old patient of yours - a larger-than-life shark-hybrid named Kirishima, or KE-1016 to your more cold-hearted coworkers. He’d been released into custody of the Navy three weeks ago, the combination of his quirk and animal instincts creating the perfect soldier from birth. All it took was a kind hand to convince him to not shred every human he saw.
You parked your car outside the massive naval base, rows upon rows of docked boats staring back at you. Through the drawn sails and towering masts, you could see a distinct, familiar flash of red cutting through the water. Bingo.
The walk down to the docks was short, a wide set of concrete stairs leading to the wooden walkways. Your shoes clicked on the ground, alerting the nearby soldiers to your presence.
One of them - a sergeant you’d spoken to when dropping Kirishima off - waved as you approached, “Doctor! Long time no see!”
His uniform was sharp, pants creasing as he met you halfway, shaking your hand as he led you to the edge of the dock. “Kirishima’s been waiting for you to come back. It’s all the bastard talks about. Well, that and how ‘manly’ we all are.”
You laughed - the sound cutting through the drone of waves and seagulls, “It’s his thing, cut him some slack. Has he been behaving okay?”
You weren’t really worried, asking out of obligation. Kirishima was a case you were never concerned about - a broken creature with a good heart, someone who just needed to be patched up again.
“He has! No complaints here. Kid’s a hard worker,” his tone carried a note of pride that made you smile.
The sergeant finished talking as you reached the water - vast ocean stretching out in front of you. Waves kissed the thick pillars, sunlight dancing off of them and into your eyes.
And somewhere in the middle of the blue expanse, a certain red-haired hybrid perked up when he saw you.
“Doctor!” His enthusiastic yell was heard clearly from across the waves, head disappearing as he ducked under the water.
You smiled as he breached the surface again, closer this time, his powerful tail churning the water into foam. Red hair plastered to his forehead, sharp teeth flashing in a wide, genuine grin that somehow made the jagged edges look less threatening. He hauled himself up onto the dock with a wet slap of fins against wood, water streaming off his scaled shoulders and the reinforced harness the Navy had fitted him with.
“You came!” Kirishima’s voice boomed, deeper than before, carrying that same unshakeable enthusiasm. He didn’t bother shaking off like a dog; instead, he planted himself solidly, claws digging lightly into the planks for balance. He craned his head up, clearly asking for scratches you readily bent down to deliver. He spoke through a purr, “Thought maybe the big shots had you on some other assignment. This place is huge, man. All these boats, all these guys training hard every day. It’s pretty manly out here.”
The sergeant chuckled beside you, clapping Kirishima on the back with the easy familiarity of someone who’d already seen the hybrid’s quirks up close, “Knew he’d light up like a buoy. I’ll give you two some space. Holler if you need anything, Doctor.” He gave a crisp nod and headed back toward the stairs, ushering the other soldiers away as he went.
You crouched down fully to Kirishima’s level, pulling a small waterproof tablet from your bag, “Wouldn’t miss a check-in. How’s the integration going? Any tension in the joints from the new bracing? Nightmares still hitting at low tide?”
Kirishima rubbed the back of his neck, a few droplets flying off. His red eyes - still carrying that faint, wild gleam from his facility days - softened with thought, “Nah, the bracing’s solid. Feels like part of me now. The guys here push me during drills, but it’s good. Real good. I swim patrols, help with underwater recon… even taught a couple of ‘em how to hold their breath longer.”
He puffed out his chest, then deflated a little, “But, sometimes the water gets too quiet, y’know? Like back when I was… lost. Before they found me washed up on that reef.”
You nodded, jotting quick notes. This was familiar territory. Kirishima wasn’t broken in the clinical sense anymore; he was simply a force of nature learning to aim that strength. The Navy had given him purpose, structure, a pack. Your job had always been making sure the patches held.
“Quiet’s normal,” you said, keeping your tone steady and professional. “You’re not that same stray anymore. You’ve got a team now. And from what the reports say, you’re pulling your weight better than most of the pure-humans. That instinct of yours saved a diver last week, right?”
A proud rumble escaped his chest, “Yeah! Dude got tangled in some old netting. I sliced right through it before the current could drag him under. Felt… useful.” He grinned again, but there was a thoughtful pause. “Hey, Doc. You think they’ll let me stay out here long-term? Not just custody, but like… really part of it?”
You tapped the tablet off and tucked it away, meeting his gaze evenly, “That’s the plan. Your file’s clean, your progress is excellent. I’ll recommend full operational status in my report today. No more weekly babysitting from me - just the occasional visit to make sure you’re not overdoing the heroic stuff.”
Kirishima’s tail flicked happily, sending a splash across the dock, “Manly! Then next time you come, we’ll do a real swim test together. I’ll show you the reefs I mapped. No pressure, just… thanks. For seeing I wasn’t just some monster to lock away.” His grin was blinding.
You returned his smile, brushing off your pants as you stood, “Never were. You’ve always more than that. Keep it up, soldier.”
As you turned to head back up the stairs, Kirishima slipped back into the water with a powerful surge, calling after you one last time, “Tell the others I said hi! And Doc - stay safe out there!”
“Always!” You called back, leaving him with one final wave as you ascended the stairs back to your car.
———
The drive to work was a quick one, your favorite playlist blaring as the sun steadily rose.
You pulled into the staff parking lot of the HRIC just as the morning shift change was beginning. The familiar concrete building loomed ahead, its reinforced walls and high-security gates a stark contrast to the open ocean air you’d left behind at the naval base. You killed the engine, the last notes of your playlist fading out, and grabbed your bag along with Kirishima’s updated file. The early start had left you feeling centered - reconnecting with a success story always helped ground you before diving into whatever fresh challenge waited inside.
The lobby was already buzzing with the low hum of activity; handlers trading notes, medical staff wheeling supply carts, and the occasional distant growl or splash from the specialized wings. You nodded to the front desk receptionist on your way through the secure turnstile, badge scanning with a soft beep. The elevator ride down to the administrative floor was short, but it gave you just enough time to mentally shift gears from Kirishima’s bright enthusiasm to the heavier workload ahead.
By the time you reached the senior specialist offices, the sun was fully up, casting long rectangles of light across the hallway. You pushed open the door to the main office suite and stepped inside.
There was a note on your desk, scrawled in the lazy handwriting of your boss;
Come to my office when you get here. - A
You gathered a small notepad and pen just in case, left Kirishima’s report on your desk, and headed back out the door to the Research Director’s office.
———
Aizawa was sitting at his desk when you walked in, typing furiously into his computer. A small cup of coffee sat in front of him. His office held minimal decoration - purely a place of work.
His eyes flicked to yours briefly as the door shut behind you, “Got a new case. I want you on it specifically.” He paused his typing to toss a thick file into the desk, papers spilling out the edges. “BK-0420 - Katsuki Bakugo. Team rescued him from an underground fighting ring two days ago.”
You sat in the chair in front of his desk and opened the file, noticing the wolf-hybrid’s photo first. He was snarling through a muzzle, blond hair matted and wild, eyes glaring daggers into the photographer. His ashy ears were pinned back, tail nothing but an angry pale blur in the background. It was clear the photo had been taken in transit - his surroundings looked to be the back of a van.
A brief read told you he’d been bred for the fighting ring, knowing nothing but a life of violence. He was one of their champion fighters before the ring was busted. Estimates put his total fight count in the hundreds. He’d already injured a handler in transit - apparently managing to snap at them before being restrained.
You continued scanning the page - noting his height, weight, age - before bold words under Katsuki’s name finally caught your eye.
LETHAL - EXERCISE CAUTION.
“The goal is for basic command response; sit, stay, attack - the basics. They want him to follow orders. Nothing more, nothing less,” Aizawa continued. “You have three months. Failure will result in his euthenasia.”
He paused fully, looking up from his screen with tired eyes, “Don’t let me down.”
You took a deep breath, closing the file softly. Three months was hardly enough time to get an apex predator to let you pet them, let alone listen. Most of your cases took six months at least - even Kirishima snapped at you out of habit until month four. Apex hybrids were often combative, even without being created purely for the fight.
You finally spoke, voice confident despite the worries swirling in your chest, “I won’t disappoint, sir. When can I see him?”
Aizawa waved a hand dismissively, focus back on his screen, “Now, if you want. He’s on the basement level, cell 13. Be careful, this one’s no joke.”
“Thank you, sir,” you stood with a nod.
Your stomach churned, clutching the file as you left his office. You’d dealt with plenty of lethal-grade hybrids before, but something about Katsuki’s wild eyes caught your attention.
You could only hope to catch his, too.