A/N: Guys, it's been a really long time since I started writing this. I can't promise that the writing style will be consistent but once I get the flow back I'll try to rewrite any earlier chapters that don't really fit the story. So sorry for making you guys wait!
Deidara is not happy. This screaming, drooling baby is his new brother? This wrinkled and ugly lump of flesh? This poop machine? Nah. Deidara out. Wrinkling his nose, the young blond stands up and attempts to walk out of the room. Key word: "attempts".
"Not so fast, young man! You still haven't finished your homework and I know that you haven't washed the dishes yet. You better sit your butt down in the chair and get cracking otherwise you'll be changing diapers for the rest of the night," Deidara's mother, a short woman by the name of Hina, calls from the kitchen.
Ah, homework. The bane of his existence. Who needs to know how to graph projectiles when you can simply blow them up? Everyone who's anyone knows that the best way to win is to simply explode your enemies before they can hit you.
Deidara pouts and slinks back into his seat at the dinner table. He picks up his pencil and immediately drops it when the Poop Maker lets out the loudest wail in the history of wails. Reluctantly, Deidara gets up to see what's wrong now with the most annoying being on this side of the sea. He checks the diaper, the pacifier, and even pokes It to see if It's hungry. No dice. His Supreme Smelliness just keeps crying. Finally, Hina comes out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.
"Deidara-kun, did you check Katsuki-chan's diaper?"
Deidara nods furiously, feeling insulted that she doubted that that was the first thing that he would check when Lord Wrinkles started bawling.
Hina sighs and leans over the crib. "Hey Katsuki-chan, kaa-san's pretty worried about you. Are you hungry, hm? Need a little change?"
Unfortunately, as Deidara's ears' nemesis was an infant, Deidara doubted that It could actually understand their mother. To Deidara's surprise, the baby stopped crying.
What the hell. Did that giant woman just call me Katsuki? As in the angry blond chihuahua/pomeranian demon, Bakugou Katsuki? Wrong person, lady.
I attempt to sit up and fail. My weak body is unable to even get up. Clearly, my muscles have atrophied but I don't have any recollection of being injured badly enough to warrant being unconscious long enough for my body to weaken.
I open my mouth and say, "Ooyga wa? Buupee mrhp."
What the hell? What kind of quirk was I hit with? I don't remember there being any record of a quirk that forces speech to be unintelligible in Japan.
"Shoobu? Abugaghee waowi. Dagoojee!"
Aaaaaaand now I'm losing it. The giant woman is bent over, cooing over me. Personal space, ma'am. Ever heard of it?
The woman smiles and picks me up.
Wait a second, picks me up? Me? Lady, what kind of quirk do you have? Some kind of size changing quirk, like Mount Lady? Are you some weird relative of hers whose hobby is kidnapping public servants? I gotta tell you, it's not a good look. I'm part of the Top Ten and as soon as my body is well enough, I'm kicking your ass six ways to Sunday.
Squirming, I attempt to escape the giant's grasp but the giant's gentle strength is unwavering. She settles me on her hip and turns to a little blonde girl.
"Dei-kun, I'll feed Katsu-chan in the kitchen. Don't let me catch you slacking off," she remarks before heading off into what looks like the aforementioned kitchen. Hold up, Dei-kun? Is this kid actually a boy? I mean, with my blurry vision (note to self: check for concussion later), that mass of yellow hair looked pretty long to me and most guys wouldn't wear their hair that long. Ah well. To each his own, I suppose.
Hold up. Kid? Why is a kid in the hospital? Assuming that I'm actually in a hospital and wasn't just kidnapped, there shouldn't be kids just hanging around, even if it seems that the giant woman holding me is his (?) mother or something. And kitchen? Unless I'm in a really fancy hospital AND in a private room, there shouldn't be a kitchen in my room. This is, of course, assuming that I am in fact in a hospital. An assumption that seems to make less and less sense the more I think about it.
"Ah, Katsu-chan. Your brother just can't do what he's supposed to do. If he wasn't so stinking cute, I would've spanked a dozen times over by now!"
Brother? Ma'am, my name is not "Katsu-chan" or any derivative thereof. I am an only child. Please take your delusions somewhere else because I'm about to fucking lose it. Seriously, I don't know who you are or where I am but I need to get back to the rest of my team. They and the people trapped under the ruins and rubble that the earthquake left behind need me…
Distantly, I hear the woman coo as she adjusts her hold on me and begins to hum. Her swaying gait lulls me to sleep, even as I struggle to stay awake.
Elsewhere, the real Bakugou Katsuki is not having a good time. These shitty kids, all snotty and everything, refused to leave him alone. The over-perfumed prepubescent girls swarm him in droves, clamoring for his attention or looking over their shoulders at him and giggling. For fuck's sake, didn't these dipshits have anything better to do?
It's been 3 torturous months since he had woken up in the hospital to a bunch of concerned nurses and some guy with a mind reading quirk. Fucking perverts, trying to see inside my mind. And then there was the guy with the ugly ass hat. Who the fuck thought that was a good look?
"Sasuke-kun! I made this lunch box for you, please accept my feelings," some girl with stringy hair exclaims as does his best to ignore the fact that the body he's in isn't his. The skinny limbs padded with baby fat and the lack of height throws him off every morning as he stares into the mirror while brushing his teeth.
"Sasuke-kun?"
Ah, yes. Couldn't these kids pick up on the fact that he doesn't want to fucking talk to them?
Katsuki grunts, unintentionally reinforcing his image in the minds of his many admirers as cool and mysterious. Unluckily, Katsuki had been punted into the only available body with worse social skills than him. At least the pre-traumatizing event of his own death 23 year old Bakugou Katsuki didn't think the acceptable response to overtures of friendship was to grunt vaguely and stare out of the window. Unfortunately, that was seven year old Uchiha Sasuke's normal response.
Luckily (or unluckily) enough, post-traumatizing event of his own death 23 year old Bakugou Katsuki and seven year old and probably dead by now Uchiha Sasuke mostly exhibited the same mannerisms, throwing off anyone that might've suspected anything after Sasuke's beloved big brother Itachi went off the rails and killed every Uchiha in Konoha, sans Sasuke.
Again, unfortunate for Katsuki's rapidly declining mental health but great for his chances of overall survival. After all, if Uchiha "Brother-Obsessed Kinslayer" Itachi had caught wind that his darling little brother had been possessed and probably killed by a bodysnatcher, Konoha, and by extension Katsuki, would probably not have survived a grieving Uchiha's wrath.
The high pitched and completely unsubtle whispers manage to punt Katsuki out of his thoughts and refocus him on the present. His complete rejection of the stringy-haired girl's affections had managed to stop the rest of his unfortunate little stalkers but Katsuki knows it's only a matter of time before another one pops out of the woodwork and repeats Stringy's actions. Ah, the joys of appearing to be a "mysterious, cool and totally sexy" traumatized child. The very fact that Katsuki had heard himself (or at least the kid who his spankin' new body had previously belonged to) described as that had made him want to throw up the first time he heard it. Kids should not be described as fucking "sexy". Even by other kids. What the fuck is wrong with this place, Katsuki thinks, not for the first or even fifth time today.
"All right, class, settle down. Today we have a new student joining us. Please make her feel welcome!" The teacher turns to the door and opens it, leading fucking Half-n-Half inside. Or at least, a small girl who looked like that fucking bastard. She's got the hair, the eyes, and the same dead-inside look. The only thing missing is the fucking scar, Katsuki thinks as he sizes up the newest addition to the classroom.
"Todoroki Shouto."
The rest of the class gapes at the lackluster introduction as Katsuki feels a bubbling rage boil up in him. Uncaring of his normal "cool' (read: traumatized) set of behaviors, he springs up and roars at Shouto.
"FUCKING ICY HOT BASTARD—"
Unfortunately, Katsuki's tirade against said bastard is immediately silenced by the teacher. Forcefully, one might even say. With a single chalkboard eraser to the face and judiciously applied amounts of Umino Iruka's patented "shut the fuck up before I make you shut the fuck up stare", the great Bakugou Katsuki is stunned speechless. As is the rest of the class.
The only collective thought circulating throughout the classroom is "what just happened."
Todoroki Shouto just smiles to himself. Yes, taking out the creepy old man trying to emulate Endeavor and running a bastardized and infinitely more screwed up version of the Hero Public Safety Commission's training program was definitely worth it if it allows him to enrage Class 3-A's resident loud yapping dog. Would Bakugou be considered more of a chihuahua without a fear of God or just a perpetually angry pomeranian, Shouto wonders to himself as he meanders over to the empty seat next to a silently seething Bakugou. Indeed, it is a good day to be Todoroki Shouto.