Today, that peace was curled beneath his desk.

A familiar pair of ears rested against his ankle, followed by the soft thump of a tail whenever Shouta’s foot shifted. {y/n} had apparently decided that the faculty lounge was an acceptable place to nap, and Shouta had decided that arguing with his spouse before eight in the morning wasn’t worth the effort.

He reached down absentmindedly, fingers brushing through their fur.

Aizawa Shouta coming to work with his dog was normal. His dog sleeping underneath his desk was normal. His dog following him through the halls was normal. And, apparently, nobody had thought particularly hard about why Shouta always referred to that dog as—